April 13, 2010
 

Jamie's Jams: Marketing Desire

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By James Willoughby

Here I am finally; distant glowing futures of iridescent ambient texture landscapes stretching as far as the mind can see. My own man. My own future. My own life. My own love. My own cause. My ownership. Myself. Where will it take me? Where does The Journey end? I don't think the destination is important, for every destination is just another jumping point to something greater. Where will my spiritual quest lead me? Is salvation at hand or are the world's religions just a grandiose hoax? Which is the truer philosophy, Atheism or Theology? These questions seem to be the crux of my existence yet my existence doesn't stop because of them. Perhaps this is the existential truth I've been searching for all my life.

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The spirits of wine and the futures of coffee mix together in an inextricable emotional palette better than the finest French restaurant. I wish I could share this with someone. Words are too few and too inadequate to fully convey feelings. Music is the best language we have. The universal language. The language of love. I often scoff at feelings or interpretations. I often scoff at songs. Then I see a song mixed with an image and suddenly I realize. I realize what is expressed. I realize what is missed. I realize what is predicted. And I cry.

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There is nowhere we can't go on our own. There is everywhere we can go with just a little help from our friends. Movements of articulation push me to find the words that are so easily escapable based on pure ignorance or perhaps pure apathy. Which is more common, apathy or fear? One thing is for sure, if you can sugar coat either you'll sell millions of widgets or wombats or what have you. Coasting on a synthetic train ride of Television and quick fix diets is the American way. It is un-American not to be in debt. People love you. People love your money. People love your products. People love your corporations. People are what it's all about. Love is what it's all in. Getting people to love you is not hard. Getting people to like you is difficult as hell.

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Observe MTV. The worst station in the world has the biggest youth audience in existence. Everyone loves it. No one likes it. We watch with a fascination that is yet to rival morbid curiosity. Who will they make next. The made man has long been a fascination of the film industry, why not the music video business. For once in my life I'm becoming finally separate from all this madness. I think in my separateness I find identity. Though no one really wants to be separate. Non-conformism is the conformism of the future. How do you market a collective separation. I don't know, and I don't care to spend my time figuring it out - that is not my job. If you can find it you will make millions. That is worth more gold than all the Seven Wonders of the World. Allow people individuality while giving them a distinct identity and letting them retain some uniqueness while belonging to a group. Witness the magic of the iPod a device so ubiquitous as to cause no notice and yet lust. A device so ubiquitous as to cause anonymity yet within its confines the utmost slice of individuality may be crafted for the consumer.

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What is the future. My future is a distinct entity of superfluous fun loving freedom fighter group consciousness caring competitive infectious gamble gauntlet sibling rivalry and the entire world is my family. It's a family feud on a grandiose scale. Heck lets invite the whole universe. The aliens can come kill us if they like, that'd be a great marketing scheme: get killed by aliens. Hey it worked for War of The Worlds why not you? No satisfaction is greater than knowing that you were one of the masses yet you found your own route to survival. The psychologists dismiss survival as a primary function of brain evolution yet look at the current best selling genres: horror movies and heavy metal hard rock hell music. Escape, it's the ultimate thrill ride. There's no drug better than the hair's inch away from death. No crack is better than the rush of adrenaline stimulated by a near death experience.

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Witness the extreme sportists. Witness the fascination with extreme sportists. Witness the "Faces of Death" videos. Witness the TV series COPS and extreme video montages. Where do the primordial man end and the modern man begin? Perhaps a cleverly developed scientific marketing study can find out, then again maybe there is no distinction as evidenced by a recent commercial featuring mock Cavemen engaging in such activities as using a laptop computer and playing classical piano pieces being insulted by the derogatory use of the word Caveman.
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I embrace my primordial self. Do you? I embrace my sophisticated arrogant bastard. Can you? I embrace my wishy washy no committal preference for watered down no demand lifestyle. Will you? The good news is you don't have to. Being radical is the new lifestyle. Being extremist without being extremist is the new Gucci. I'm tired of wannabe philosophers dictating politically correct non-offensive middle ground stanzas into semantically unaware computers. The rhetoric of the times bores me into an almost pathetic daze; I can't stand to use the TV anymore. I want bite. I want blood.

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I want synecdoche and metonyme. I want alliteration and parallelism to quench my thirst for logical fallacies. If you're gonna give me slogans at least give me interesting ones. Drastic times call for drastic measures. Now there's a slogan I can emotionally attach myself to without rational influence. Put the intelligence into your rhetoric so I don't have to. Please.

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I'm finally at that stage where I'm about to break free of my latest cocoon and journey onwards to my next non-final destination. My frailty of new image is daunting and I need a way to define myself. Everyone wants to know what the tweens and the teens and the twenties are thinking and wanting, but the thing is - they just want to know what to want. Do you want to help them want what you want them to or will you let them want what your competitors want them to want? It's your choice. Make it wisely.

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James Willoughby is a professional linguistic programming consultant and artistic creative expression coach living in a random corner of the United States. He specializes in sound form manipulation, poetry and production aesthetics. Most people would incorrectly and unfairly categorize his profession as a musician, teacher and freelance writer. James is available to perform puppet shows at weddings and Bar Mitzvahs. He has an honorary Masters Degree which he gave himself for being so cool. He's also got a sense of humor. If you love his work you can contact him at: james@tmajournal.com. If you disagree with him then that's too bad. If you hate his work then you can buy some ice cream.

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