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Basset, queen of rainbows
When the writing is going well, I’m obsessive. I don’t shower, I don’t take phone calls, I hardly respond to text messages, I don’t do email. I take breaks only to read, and usually I read poetry. When it’s not going well, I just lie in bed and eat chocolate.
Was listening to the Broadcast song I posted to This Is My Jam, clicked over to the tab, and was greeted by the above banner ad. I mean, I know that advertising is supposed to play on Humanity’s Biggest Fears—loneliness, sickness, death, all the great existential crises. But between ads like this (on a Broadcast song! Like, I didn’t ask for your goddamn relationship advice, I just wanted to hear one of the greatest snow-day jams ever!) and the garbage headlines vomited up by Outbrain and Taboola and chirpy sponsored content that exists in a happy-to-lucky thought-free bubble of its own inflated worth … it’s hard not to feel like the churn of the content economy is dependent on making people increasingly uneasy about their place in the world—and not even for good reasons or ones that better humanity on macro and micro levels, but for the STUPIDEST ones that are not rooted in reality as much as they are rooted in increasing agita. And then people wonder why there’s so much hostility on social media?
For instance, one has only to listen to Coast to Coast With George Noory's ads for gold as a hedge against hyperinflation, special emergency radios you can hand-crank in case of extended power failure, miracle weight-loss formulas, online dating services, etc., to understand that KFI and the syndicator regard this show's audience as basically frightened, credulous, and desperate.
Cataract Falls, Marin County
Half Moon Bay, California.
Basset hounds make excellent book stands.
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