Sometimes I just have to stop and thank God, Country, and Facebook for the gifts that rain down on my life. (Hashtag gratitude, Hashtag thankful, Hasthtag Zuckerberg).
In between cracking my knuckles, tweezing my eyebrows, bouts of crushing nihilism over fears that a fascist cantaloupe is poised to overtake our sizzling planet and ship me and my Jewish family off to a 'Murican concentration camp in East Texas in the back of an 18-wheeler, and disbelief that five pounds won't come off my ass no matter how many kale smoothies I drink, I like to scroll aimlessly through the non-neutral "content" on offer from the internet.
I'm talking about all the stuff (yes, ALL of it) that is very cannily and consciously curated to the masses to make us all think we're free agents with real choices, as opposed to disembodied cash cows seeing only what a boardroom on the Google campus in Mountain View wants us to see.
But whatevs duuuudes, 'cause if THIS is what Google, Facebook, and the rest of Silicon Valley's Evil Corporate Overlords want me to see, then Bring. It. On., 'cause I am PSYCHED, bitches.
Clearly The Googs/The Book/The Webs know I'm a lawyer in a small town. That much they've figured out. I don't work for a "small local law firm" though (you guys listening for next time?), so I don't need to turn the small local law firm I don't work for into Andre the National Giant/Hulk Hogan. What does this look like, Jack and the Beanstalk?
But even if I was working at a "Small Local Law Firm" that I wanted to turn Into a "National Giant," the first thing I would do is remove bold, italics, and underline from my keyboard commands, since the most crucial lesson you learn on Day One of law school (after "99.9% of the people you see before you are unmitigated douchecrackers," of course) is how to use these font enhancers with discretion. DISCRETION, people. It's called discretion.
The second thing I'd do is call up Big Mouth Marketing and tell them they need a different spokesmodel for this campaign. Because "Sketchy McSketcher Courtroom Sketch Man" just isn't cutting it.
Who is this mysterious-in-a-bad-way Sketchy McSketcher Courtroom Sketch Man supposed to be? Is he one of my clients? Is he a pedophile? Is he a white collar criminal defendant? Is he facing charges at an American version of The Hague in 2020 for genocidal crimes against humanity committed under President Trump? Is he sad because he was once rich but is now bankrupt due to a large punitive damages award just handed down at my request? Is he all of the above? WHO IS THIS MAN AND WHY DOES HE HAVE A 5:00 SHADOW DRAWN IN CRAYON? And WHO THE FUCK IS THE GUY BEHIND HIM? That guy looks like what would happen if Voldemort and Donald Trump, Jr. had a baby. Where are his eyes? Are his eyes actually just eyebrows, or vice-versa? And why are both of these guys standing against a backdrop of pastel green grass?
So many questions, Big Mouth Marketing. So many questions.
It makes no fucking sense. So all I can say is that Big Mouth Marketing needs to get a clue, because the only thing they tripled today was my contempt for advertising and marketing, and inspiration for my ad-free, Commie blog.