Eighth Bit of Media—The Golden Arch-Enemy

I'm not normally one for McDonald's—I'm proud to say I've never entered one of their restaurants, and hope I never will—but I'll give them credit for some excellent advertising. The company has created  a billboard that doubles as a sundial, which tells time from six in the morning until noon. Each hour is marked by a different food on their breakfast menu, and the billboard is stated as trying to keep McDonald's ahead in the breakfast market. (Read more here.) But honestly, for all their creativity, I don't think the billboard is an effective means of advertising.

It definitely appeals to potential customers' needs for aesthetic sensations, since its color and arrangement are unusual but not too strange to be alienating and the shadow cast by the M is perfectly orchestrated to look appealing.

The background of the billboard is a pleasing, nonaggressive red. It is not so bright as to offend the eyes, but is still bright enough to catch the attention. And as a primary color, it brings viewers' memories subconsciously back to their childhoods. The food products are mostly red, yellow, and brown, colors people associate with food. And the items are placed in a curve that leads the eye to the M, so that the genius of the sundial is wasted on no one.

And the shadow only adds to the beauty of the ad. The shadow created by the M falls exactly on each food item when it should and looks perfectly undistorted when it reaches noon. This shows an attention to detail and a dedication to aesthetics that I really appreciate.

But even though the food items are listed on the billboard, as is the logo, twice, I cannot shake the feeling that this billboard has nothing to do with McDonald's. They aren't a sundial business, after all. And even if their food speaks for itself and appeals to our physiological need to eat, we don't know the prices, the atmosphere, the waiting time to receive a meal, or even the location. Not one thing about the dining experience, just giant pictures of food and a clock that only lasts six hours.

Maybe I'm being too harsh on McDonald's. Who goes there for the atmosphere? But the article mentions that this billboard was a response to the news that Starbucks and Wendy's are both unveiling breakfast foods. With all this competition, shouldn't McDonald's be describing its better traits and not just saying, "look at me"?

It really seems to be using no other techniques than shock value and aesthetic appeal. And I really don't like that.

Seventh Bit of Media—Ho, ho, ho! Happy Holidays!

Upon searching "happy holidays" in Google Images, here are my results:

First of all, let's acknowledge the elephant in the room—Christmas. Never mind Diwali, Kwanzaa, and Chanukah, all of which happen around this time of year. So basically we Americans don't really mean "happy holidays" when we say the phrase. We just don't want to offend anyone by discounting theirs.

Chanukah—or Hanukkah or Chanukka or Hannukah or whatever—will end tomorrow night. I am sad to see it go, but I'm glad its passing got me thinking about how this holiday is portrayed in the American media, and how this reflects the American understanding of Judaism.

So, what is Chanukah? Chanukah began as the celebration of a military victory of a Jewish group called the Maccabees over the Greeks. Because the Maccabees were an extremist group which attacked assimilated Jews and generally wreaked havoc, rabbis decided not to put this story in the Torah, the main Jewish holy book, and discouraged Jews from celebrating the holiday. But the Jews wanted to celebrate one of the few Jewish military victories of the time. So the rabbis created the story about the miracle of the oil, from which originates the lighting of the chanukiah (Chanukah menorah) and the eating of latkes and jelly donuts.

Chanukah is not Christmas. As you can see from the above, the traditions surrounding the holiday are completely different than those surrounding Christmas. And yet we persist with this notion that it is one of the "holidays."Chanukah has been celebrated, and treated by the media, like a Jewish Christmas for decades now.

Jews' answer to Santa Claus

But why? Chanukah is a minor Jewish holiday whose story was not even included in the Torah. To be fair, this is partly because of the original extremism that took place at the time of the "miracle" of Chanukah. But it is worth note that even if this holiday was not based on the celebration of an extremist victory, it would still not come anywhere close to our  main holiday, Yom Kippur. Its only connection to Christmas is the time of year.

As stereotypical as this sounds, I think the answer lies in the fact that the Jews control the media. Not all of it. But a disproportionate share nonetheless. And before Chanukah was made to seem like Christmas, Jews must have felt alienated not having a Christmas of their own. I'm lucky enough to have Christian relatives and to have celebrated Christmas for as long as I can remember, but those who do not share my situation must feel terribly alienated. So they have taken Christmas traditions and Chanukah-ized them to fulfill their need for affiliation. Why else do we see Chanukah Harry of Chanukah bushes appear?

A Chanukah bush is
definitely not a Christmas tree.

Amazingly, this tactic has worked. Jews everywhere can feel like they belong to the atmosphere of holiday cheer. Chanukah has been accepted into the mainstream as Jews' answer to Christmas. But maybe this has worked too well. Chanukah seems to be the only area of Judaism non-Jews know about. Let's be clear: I mean no disrespect to anyone. I mean only to point out how the American understanding of Judaism is based largely on its understanding of Christianity.

So what does this say about our culture? It says that we are lazy and ignorant. Our understanding of the world is really just a jumble of reality assumptions with some past experience thrown in for good measure. I'm not insulting non-Jews—I was only saved from ignorance in this case because of my ancestry—I'm saying that as a society we tend to buy into whatever the media tells us, and that's just lazy. I'm saying that the only way we can think to sell new ideas is to package them like the old ones and hope no one will know the difference. That's lazy too. I'm saying happy holidays to you all, and I mean it.

Sixth Bit of Media—Reflection

After watching Merchants of Cool, Mr. Starace asked us a question: Which reflects the other, media or the individual? I have pondered that fateful question ever since he asked it. I haven't yet come to a choice between the two, but I have found two main arguments, both of which I agree with. Let's dissect them, shall we?

The first is the Mr. Starace argument, and the one presented in the documentary. Both say that the media could sell us anything and we'd buy it. They argue that every counterculture we create is not original, but a response to the media, and so will eventually become a part of the media.

The Insane Clown Posse seem to be anything but a
 media construction, but how divorced are they
 from the media which gave them their fame?

This conclusion is obvious when we look at the Insane Clown Posse, one of the bands the documentary follows. It notes that this kind of extreme, violent expression comes from a desire to rebel against traditional media, which embraces more and more rebellious messages as mainstream. So really this expression comes from the media, since it would not have taken on its shape without a media to rebel against. Think of it as the distorted, fun-house mirror reflection of the reality of the media.

And I agree. If even these guys can become mainstream, how far could we go? I fully believe that if they put their minds to it, advertisers and television and internet creators could sell anything. They could even sell human sacrifice to my grandchildren. If they started working on a more subtle message in my generation, then gradually brought it closer to their goal as the years progressed by intensifying their language, music, and visuals, I fully believe that by the time my grandchildren were adults, it would be the new norm. Luckily, the media seems not to want to do this. But how would we know?

The second argument, which I will call the Amanda Palmer argument, is more optimistic. It argues that the media can only be created by the individual. In her song Map of Tasmania, Palmer says of society, "They don't know that we are the media/They don't know that we start the mania." Media cannot exist without a market, and unless those who run the media cater to that market, their media will fail.

Wait, you're saying, Alex Day looks way more
mainstream than those other guys! How is he an
example of the media being a reflection?
Bear with me here.

By her argument, if my grandchildren did buy into human sacrifice, it would only be because it was in their nature. And even if advertisers tried their best methods and organized with all the right corporations, there would still be enough people who would go against it that it would be prevented. Artists like Alex Day seem to prove that media is only a reflection of the individual. He is influenced by media all around him, true, but he has created his own sound and has refused to be bought up by any record label. And fans have responded, bringing him to number four in the UK Christmas charts last year.

But even as he has dabbled in media constructions like charts, he has created a community on the internet which is separate from the media. It is not so much a reaction to media as its own place. The community Day has created interacts with media as though the community was a person who looked in the mirror occasionally to make sure their hair was okay but wasn't so obsessed with it or with avoiding it that they became its slave.

So which is it? Who is the reflection? Both sides make compelling arguments: the first, that the media is controlling us, which would be impossible to prove if it was, and the second, that we are controlling the media, which is equally impossible to prove because the relationship between people and the content they create right now is so little-understood.

So I go for the third argument: there is no mirror. There are instead two best friends who talk to each other all the time. One is very greedy, always trying to sell the other products, but the other is equally greedy to be adored and remembered by the first. They sometimes have their brawls, but in the end they are dependent on each other, and always have been, although they looked much different when they were both young. At some points in their relationship one may dominate the other, but in the end they must keep a balance in order for them both to survive.

I hope.

Fifth Bit of Media—Pork Roast, or An Open Letter to the National Pork Board

To the National Pork Board:

While I was  dissecting magazine ads in my critical thinking class I became enraptured by this one:

Because pork will make me entertaining. What?! And "Be inspired"? Really?! That is probably the most hilarious euphemism ever. Because learning recipes is so inspiring.

This ad uses a pretty interesting combination of strategies to get the consumer to buy the product. It uses gestalt to get the reader's attention and then glittering generalities to appeal to the reader's needs for guidance and affiliation.

The ad uses gestalt by implying pork will make the reader entertaining. Not many people I know of equate pork with entertainment. And certainly none think recipes including it to be particularly inspiring. And yet the words appear in big, bold letters with a nice, large picture of the product. This incongruous image stuck with me, and was probably employed to stick with other readers.

The ad also uses glittering generalities, with the words "entertaining," "inspired," and "simply" to imply that if the reader buys the product, they can create an easy but artfully-prepared dish, which will make everyone love them. It backs this up with pictures of smiling people supposedly having fun cooking and socializing. By using these images and words, the ad hopes to appeal to people's needs for guidance and affiliation. "You don't need to worry about cooking anymore, because if you just go to our website, we can tell you how to easily prepare any pork dish imaginable," the ad seems to say. "Then everybody will have so much fun and love you forever!"

But despite these carefully-designed and -executed ploys, this ad left a bad taste in my mouth. That may be because I've been a vegetarian all my life and the thought of bacon-wrapped pork is one of the least appealing I could think about. But the ad also seems not to come together well. The beautifully-done gestalt is eye-catching and sticks in the brain, but the designers of your ad seemed not to be able to make up their minds whether or not they were serious about the pork being entertaining. This ambiguity leaves the ad as something to be ridiculed rather than thought witty.

Pork is not particularly entertaining. Pork is carcass lying on the table. This image is easily remembered, but as you try to sell it seriously as well as in jest, we, the readers, end up laughing at your board and not with it. If you want us to actually think pork is entertaining, make the pictures of the people having fun more prominent. Then that will be the first thing we see, and we will agree that pork can bring people together and entertain them. Maybe we'll buy your product and visit your website and spend lots of money so you can teach us to use food to make everyone love us.

Or scrap the pictures of happy people and make it all gestalt. We'll laugh at the thought of pork as entertainment, chuckle at its inspiring us, and go on our way with your product in our minds. Maybe next time we're planning a meal we'll remember your ad and think, "They're funny. Maybe I should try their product."

But you must know that you can't do both. Not how you are right now. You guys better get your act together with your ads, or people will treat you as more of a laughingstock than a product. When you're making ads and can't decide between gestalt and glittering generalities, PICK ONE. Many of us will to buy your product, but if your ads are so wimpy and laughable as this, will we really respect you? Make your ads funny or make your ads serious, either way works fine. But make them coherent. Maybe then I'll stop being so embarrassed for you.

Sincerely,
MLDS

Fourth Bit of Media—Welcome to the YouTube brain-gauge

Every time a website tries to improve, someone inevitably complains about it. These redesigns sometimes change a website so radically that it takes a while to adjust to its new appearance and to  how it works (think Facebook's timeline). But the experience I just had trumps all my past experiences of redesigns, and leaves me feeling angry and creeped out.

It may seem to be an insignificant change, hardly the radical shift that timeline was. But when I saw that first paragraph, I finally realized how much companies like Google know about us.

I have known for years that my data was mined, and that it was then used to sell things back to me. I knew that everything I did on the computer was recorded and stored with that of millions of other people and used to figure out how to sell me more things in a more efficient way. And in this critical thinking class I have become even more aware of the specifics of data mining and selling. I have never really grasped how scary this is.

It's so easy to think of this the way business executives do: impersonally. If they want to sell things to middle class teenage girls, they must look at the overall data surrounding this group and create better strategies of selling things that fit this data. I've never been against that. What I realized in looking at this new message is that we may be just another statistic to these companies, but we are a statistic used not just to sell things, but to read people's minds. Our minds. THEY ARE TAKING OUR DATA AND TRYING TO READ OUR MINDS!

Want to see all the latest activity from your subscriptions? No, I'd rather hide in a cave full of books and candles and other prehistoric objects that haven't been touched by the filthy hands of big corporations.

Check out My subscriptions. I think I'll smash all the computers I can get my hands on instead, thankyouverymuch.

How did I not understand this? I knew this was going on the entire time, but I didn't see how it related to me. It was an ephemeral idea that existed far away from my own reality. But, ironically, in trying to tell me how much it cared, Google showed me how creepy its care for me was. It somehow caused me to see just how much it wants to know about me, and how much it does already. And how much it wants to know or already does about you. Yes, you. You looking at the screen. Giant corporations are trying to read your mind.

  Got it?  

Third Bit of Media—This is Not a Commercial for Tumblr

So I was casually YouTubing, as you do, when I came across one of my favorite musicals by AVbyte, a channel devoted to making mini-musicals based on popular culture. But this one struck me because it seemed to be a commercial, even though it was not.

This musical was, first and foremost, an advertisement for the AVbyte channel. While not explicitly so, most videos created on YouTube channels are created to get users to watch more videos on those channels, thereby giving the creators money through ads. So what make this particular commercial unique? In this musical, AVbyte used the power of reification of a person, either knowingly or unknowingly, to promote their video. Hank Green, the first man to sing in the video, is the co-founder of the Vlogbrothers channel, a channel which, through its alliances with other similar channels, has brought together perhaps the largest community of nerds on YouTube. Consequently, Hank is a very prominent figure in the YouTube nerd community. He means more than himself; he is symbolic of a larger community and its values of acceptance, intelligence, and quirky fun. And knowingly or not, by having Hank Green in their video, AVbyte have brought Midas onto their team. Thousands of people who wouldn't take a second glance at the channel before have now flocked to it because if Hank likes it, it must be something they would enjoy.

One of AVbyte's crew smiles down at her computer in
what is definitely not a commercial for Tumblr.

But the musical also advertises the website Tumblr, in a more abstract way than it does its channel. The musical is primarily a satire of common occurrences on Tumblr, from popular slang like "feels" to the preponderance of celebrities like Emma Stone and Benedict Cumberbatch. It uses these experiences, which are assumed to be like those of the viewer, to draw the viewer in and make the viewer enjoy the musical. But, as I have said, this assumes the viewer has had these experiences. It's amazing how hateful the nerd community is to those who they feel aren't as obsessed with the things they are obsessed with as they should be. Hank Green is singing in a musical and you don't know what he's singing about? And you call yourself a nerd? says the voice in the head of the poor soul who doesn't use Tumblr who just watched the video. Or says the commenter responding to this person as they seek clarification. But how to solve this problem of being on the outside looking in? Go in. So essentially this video says, "Hank Green goes on Tumblr. We all go on Tumblr. You should too, and then you'll be like us and be part of our community." That may sound a bit extreme, but then I never cease to be amazed by the lack of acceptance in the nerd community. And by the semi-intentional plugging of nerd lovemarks that is somehow everywhere.

So by making this video AVbyte essentially made an advertisement not only for their channel, but for Tumblr itself. And, I'm saddened to say, these tactics worked. I subscribed to AVbyte because of this video. I found myself nodding in agreement for half the song the first time I listened to it, not even paying attention to the singing or scenery but instead trying to match each lyric to my own experience. But not only that. Despite the fact that this is not an ad for Tumblr, I found myself wanting to go on the website more after I watched this video, to get the jokes and experiences mentioned in the video that I couldn't relate to.

THIS IS CRAZY!

How did it get to the point that small, independent "content creators" (whatever that means) are advertising for large, wealthy corporations that can do that for themselves? Are we this close to the scenario in The Persuaders in which we persuade ourselves to buy things? How did we get here so quickly? How did I not see this the first, third, fifteenth time I saw this video?

How much of our minds are our own?

Second Bit of Media—LindseytheFriendliest

When trying to think of a good piece of media to dissect, I finally came upon the perfect thing: a dissection of the media in video form. This video-blog, created by the lovely LindseytheNerdiest of YouTube, analyzes the emotional relationship the public has to fictional characters, how this affects our relationship with the works those characters appear in.

In her video Lindsey compares the emotional response to fictional characters to porn. She notes that people's attachment to these characters prevents them from understanding the flaws in the plot, or virtually any other part of the piece of fiction. And this is why I like her video so much: she understands how we're all being brainwashed, instead of just noting that we are. Her critical look at a situation that is so commonplace shows her brilliance and never ceases to intrigue me.

LindseytheNerdiest leans in to tell the camera her story is true

But I also like the video because of the way she portrays herself. Lindsey seems to be having a conversation with her audience. She begins the video like each of her others, with the familiar "Here's what I'm thinking." This sounds almost like she's beginning a conversation with a real person, and not just her camera. Her friendly tone makes the audience feel as if she is one of their friends—the same type of one-sided emotional attachment she talks about with fictional characters, though perhaps less extreme.

As she continues to talk to the camera, she continues to treat it like a person, at one point leaning forward to tell the camera in a confidential tone that "this is a true story" as if she were talking to a friend. Her continued friendliness increases the sense that the audience is looking through a screen at her talking directly to them, instead of looking at a recording of her talking to a camera.

And when she laughs at herself for saying "fish-pumping," which she could easily have cut out of the final video, we see her sense of humor and how comfortable she is sharing her mistakes with her audience. By leaving this part in she seals the deal, and the audience is inevitably charmed by her friendly, personable, self-assured manner.

But don't get me wrong. I don't think she's intentionally trying to make her videos "emotional porn" in the same way she says fictional movies, books, and other media try to sell their characters. As far as I can tell, she's being herself, or whatever aspect of herself shows up when a camera is turned on. But the little gestures and moments Lindsey shares with her audience give her videos a quality of familiarity that is surprisingly rare in video-blogs. Watching her videos feels more like a human interaction than like an intake of media, and this is why they are so brilliant.

So in her creation of a video about emotional porn, Lindsey ends up making some herself. She draws the audience in as much with her charm and friendliness as with her thoughtful analysis. But the thoughtful analysis is there. So thank goodness that in this bit of media, at least, I can safely say that relationships with characters are not built to cover up badly thought out work.