Back about ten years and five agencies ago, New York and much of the east coast, was hit by a major black out. The lights went dark. Computers didn't work. New York's highly-efficient (if clattering) subway system stalled.
There was no power. Even our phones, which run on a separate power system, were out.
I had a dream in the midst of all this that the power quickly came back on but one thing, unbeknownst to us continued to malfunction.
The mute switch on our phones would shine red but the muting would not mute. In other words, all the comments that we utter privately would be shared publicly.
We suck a lot up in the industry.
In return for our weekly bread, we duct tape our mouths.
We allow into our work bullshit and new speak and blather and unlikeability because the truth won't will out.
We keep silent.
We do our jobs.
Truth is a difficult thing. It sells itself, but only to the right people. It's great to say, but only if it flatters the product.
It's also the thing with which the purveyors of bullshit who run advertising are least comfortable. In a town populated solely by imbeciles, the truth is a pariah – unless it is equally imbecilic, and it never is.
Not one of your best entries George but you post everyday and there are bound to be some forced marches. Here's to Friday.
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