Now, onward to the meat and potatoes!
Commercials are going to be the death of me. Not just because they are largely annoying (have you seen the new Miracle Whip ad campaign?) and interrupt the shows I’m watching, but because I block them out. You may ask, “Isn’t it good to block out the stuff that annoys you?” and you’d be right, except you’re not. By ignoring the commercials, I let my guard down and things bleed into my subconscious. The background noises, typically music, seep past the actual ad and into my ears. The next thing I know, I start bobbing my head around and tapping my feet. Sometimes this is a good thing, like the T-Mobile commercial that uses an Architecture in Helsinki song or the Buick commercial that uses a Black Mountain song. Other times, though, I’m horrified to discover I’m dancing along to an atrocious Mary J. Blige autotuned (or do they still try to say it’s a vocoder?) piece of garbage. Or that’s what I tell myself.
I guess the issue at hand is: what dictates our “liking” something. Clearly, on the basest level, if I find myself subconsciously affected by the music and that transfers to physical movement, there must be something about it that I like before I have a chance to acknowledge that it’s something that I do not (or should not) like. It’s like an instinctual reaction. This kind of scares me, because I REALLY don’t like the song in that commercial. But why? Is it the perception of others I care about? Do I have some image I need to uphold? Probably.
Another time this happened to me was watching the Doug Pray documentary “Scratch.” I’ve never been one for hip-hop or scratching, but a good documentary can make any subject enthralling (and it is a good documentary). However, I still came out of it not caring much for scratching, except I found myself moving along to the rhythm once again. These moments of cognitive dissonance are profoundly confusing to me. It’s like a fight between body and mind. Why can’t I just give myself over to the music? I won’t say it calls into question everything I know, but it calls into question the things I think I know, if that makes any sense.
Maybe I do like Jay-Z, Justin Timberlake, and Beyonce. Hell, maybe I like Britney Spears, the Backstreet Boys, and Nickelback (I got a little nauseous typing that last one, so I think I’m safe there). I’ll never know because I’ll never investigate further than what I hear on TV or the radio. I’ll almost definitely never admit to it even if the artist is critically acclaimed.
There is one thing I can always fall back on. A happy place to go to re-center and find myself once again. Something so steadfast and true that I could build a religion around it. My security blanket… Journey sucks.
Thanks for the kind words sir, I think you're going to have to go ahead and take the moniker of either Ringo or George, since there was no Nate in The Beatles (I guess you could be Pete, but really, go for one of the big four).
ReplyDeleteI don't know what is up with that commercial, I know it will likely terrify my girlfriend more then Paranormal Activity did (she was scared by the movie, but Mayonaisse is more terrifying to her). How does referencing Stephen Colbert sell Mayo? Who signed off on that campaign? I just don't understand it.
And Nate...I think more then anything you need to jump on the Journey train. Don't Stop Believing buddy...Journey is good clean fun!
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ReplyDeleteFirst of all, Miracle Whip is NOT mayo. Not even close. The reason for calling out Colbert is they bought all kinds of ad space on his show because he came out as a supporter of mayo (see, even Miracle Whip doesn't consider themselves may). That was the only ad of the new rebranding campaign I could find easily, but it's just as bad.
ReplyDeleteAnd I could be Ringo, since it's not his real name anyway.
And I will never hop on the Journey train. NEVER!!!
Nice. All we need is a George and we’re set. Also, I say bring on the self-indulgence.
ReplyDeleteRegarding the post topic, this same exact issue came up with me very recently. There’s a Black Eyed Peas song currently playing on the radio and in bars, the simplistic music and ridiculous lyrics of which I found myself happily going along with on more than one occasion. The way I rationalized this is by drawing a distinction between music I actively like and music I don’t, which includes music that may be effective in some way (ie, making me dance to it), but I otherwise dislike or don't listen to on my own.
But I also realized that the music I actively like is often formed by a combination of me liking it and me wanting to like it, which I think is a simultaneous process where the two sort of reinforce each other. In any case, since I do partly define myself through the music I actively listen to, it makes sense to me that I wouldn’t want to define myself through the music of the Black Eyed Peas.
Problem is, I don't know, anyone named George.
ReplyDeleteThere is a great sociological/psychological study in the determination of why people like what they like waiting to be done (or maybe it has been). I know I'd read it.