New York advertising.

Yesterday the great Dave Trott commented on a post of mine, "Random Memories." He referenced a special sort of advertising that thrived here in New York in the 1960s and early 70s. This was advertising that had a tough, roll up your sleeves and no-nonsense tone. And a brusque and unassailable logic that woke you up and changed your perceptions.

"It takes a tough man to make a tender chicken." For Perdue.
"Drive it like you hate it." For Volvo.
"Choosing an airline for its food is like choosing a restaurant for its flying ability." For Pan Am.

And then there was this house ad for DDB. Written by Bob Levinson and art directed by an ex-boss of mine, Len Sirowitz. Below, I've pasted the copy.

As we say in New York, read it. Or get the fuck out of here.

Do this or die.

Is this ad some kind of a trick?
No. But it could have been.
And at exactly that point rests a do or die decision for American business.
We in advertising, together with our clients, have all the power and skill to trick people. Or so we think.
But we're wrong. We can't fool any of the people any of the time.
There is indeed a twelve-year-old mentality in this country; every six-year-old has one.
We are a nation of smart people.
And most smart people ignore most advertising because most advertising ignores smart people.
Instead we talk to each other.
We debate endlessly about the medium and the message. Nonsense. In advertising, the message itself is the message.
A blank page and a blank television screen are one and the same.
And above all, the messages we put on those pages on those television screens must be the truth. For if we play tricks with the truth, we die.
Now. The other side of the coin.
Telling the truth about a product demands a product that's worth telling the truth about.
Sadly, so many products aren't.
So many products don't do anything better. Or anything different. So many don't work quite right. Or don't last. Or simply don't matter.
If we play this trick, we also die. Because advertising only helps a bad product fail faster.
No donkey chases the carrot forever. He catches on. And quits.
That's the lesson to remember.
Unless we do, we die.
Unless we change, the tidal wave of consumer indifference will wallop into the mountain of advertising and manufacturing drivel.
That day we die.
We'll die in our marketplace. On our shelves. In our gleaming packages of empty promises.
Not with a bang. Not with a whimper.
But by our own skilled hands.

Doyle Dane Bernbach Inc.