For sale.

A friend of mine just sent me an article from "The Denver Post" about Bud Light's upcoming effort to takeover the town of Crested Butte, Colorado and make it one big spectacular for the brand. Bud Light intends to paint the town blue, open pop-up bars and host a huge "Twister" game. Of course there will be a huge soundstage and enough bands to put the grandest Bar Mitzvah to shame.

You can read about the MSEOTH (major special event on the horizon) here.

I have this strange, and perhaps outdated notion that oppressive advertising ubiquity actually hurts brands. When I witness logos everywhere and hear brand bombast blaring at me, I wind up hating the sponsors, not liking them.

I don't cotton to this crap. Brands have always had one hand down our pants, now they're adding a second and, somehow, a third.

The idea that I have to shell out, to see an opera for instance, $100 for the tickets and still have to bear ads everywhere offends me. The same holds true when I see a ballgame, or go to the movies, or, shit, ride the subway. I'm paying $2.50 to ride the train. Do you really have to abuse me further by barraging me with your crap?

Logos on lampposts, on tennis nets, a bank's name or a telco's on a tax-payer-funded stadium fairly makes my blood boil. Not only do I regard the sponsors as blood-suckers, encroaching on my personal space, such advertising also says to me two things. 1) The sponsor has more money than sense, and 2) They're making extortionate profits.

Crested Butte claims it's getting $250,000 from Bud Light. And surely, they can use it.

But really.

Does everything have to be for sale?
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By the way, I feel similarly about advertising on my phone. This is my personal device. I keep it in a pocket near my crotch or hold it up to my head. Keep your filthy paws off of me.

That is, unless you give me something of real value. Money. Information. Entertainment. Otherwise, I won't only ignore you. I'll hate you.