Retinal Acuity.

Back in 1978, and we accepted it at the time as we accept it now, the American Broadcasting Company, under the purported aegis of something called a Roone Arledge, placed the network's News division within the network's Entertainment division.

He then paired Barbara Walters with Harry Reasoner. Like putting Soupy Sales with John Gielgud. You know, ratings.

Thus, quietly, stupidly, inexorably, and with few people noticing it, began the end of amerika. And as a tiny spillover effect, the end of the advertising industry.

That was it, folks, 1978.

That's when we could, as a society, no longer distinguish between something that's entertaining and entertainment. 

Chris Hedges, a Pulitzer-winner fired from the Times for being too liberal, calls today "The Age of Illusion." The passage below was written sixteen years ago. Does it shiver your timbers?

We now live in two societies: One, the minority, functions in a print-based, literate world, that can cope with complexity and can separate illusion from truth. The other, a growing majority, is retreating from a reality-based world into one of false certainty and magic. In this “other society,” serious film and theatre, as well as newspapers and books, are being pushed to the margins.

That's why, today, as amerika and nominal amerikan values are being eviscerated (like "Birthright Citizenship" which has been the law of the land since 1868) instead of outrage, we're talking about a third-tier pop star going to space.

On a day after the amerikan secretary of duh-fense or defenestration , whichever comes last, sends out military secrets to the world and the pope dies, all the items above can be found on the front page of the Times. Neil Postman had it right, we've amused ourselves into a coma--preparatory to death.

Most people in advertising can no longer distinguish between an ad that's fun, and an a fun ad that sells. We default to stunts, noise, fanfare and bombast and leave selling on the cutting room floor. But people like us, they really like us.

The pasta ad below is a good example. Would it have hurt to put in a single line that says something like "Italy's #1 pasta" or "The pasta made from durum wheat--the grain of the Roman Empire."

That would have made it an entertaining ad not just an entertainment. As it stands, it could be for any pasta. 

As an industry, we don't even draw a distinction anymore.

If you believe, as I do, in Dave Trott's simplification of every successful communication in the history of carbon-based life forms on earth, you'll soon realize that most of the communications or ads we see only do one-third of what they need to do to be effective.

Many have impact, but they communicate or persuade not at all. Many say all the things clients and focus groups want you to say, but they have no impact. And many try to get you to act, with no real persuasion other than using the word NOW! and thirty-four exclamation points. And balloons. Or, worse than balloons, Kevin Hart.

I try to be entertaining when I do my work. My ads are usually twisted and funny and informative and persuasive. The ones I do for GeorgeCo., LLC, a Delaware Company, which have built my business into a seven-figure one. And the ones I do for clients.

I want to win awards as much as the next person. And, I suppose, at some level I want to be liked, too. But not if it means sacrificing my values and my standards. And my taste.

Looping this around from the micro of advertising, to the macro of politics, that's the difference between a leader and a demagogue.

To that point, it occurs to me that a lot of what's masquerading as advertising, mustard-flavored ice cream, a dress that looks like oatmeal or a company that produces more plastic waste than any other on earth twisting its logo in an effort to deceive people as to their environmental bona-fides, is little more than demagoguery. 

As accounts fire old agencies and choose new agencies just like the old ones, as we endure another never-ceasing award-season followed by a hurricane of hubris and humble-bragging, I'd ask you to keep the definition below somewhere near your retinas. 

I'll admit, it's not entertaining.

But it might be important.