Our advertising department recently got a new big cheese, the new SVP. I met with him yesterday, and the effects of the meeting are still being felt.
He is one of those big idea advertising guys, the type of person that jerks in ties would pay 1500 dollars to see give a seminar at some swanky hotel in the city. He would definitely rock an N*sync-esque headset and use sweet powerpoints. Think Tom Cruise in Magnolia, Everything Scat, the main character in the book Syrup wishes he could be, Topher Grace in the movie, In Good Company, and Henry Rollins' character in Feast...I'm telling you, see that fuckin movie because I am going to keep dropping obscure references to it, and you are going to miss the frackin' boat. One of those people that is self-consciously hip, because he knows he has to be, lest he get swallowed up by all the tech-savvy young guns fresh out of college with their arsenal of Helios and Zune players, who think Myspace is "played out".
Be that as it may, I met with him, and it was refreshing, a solid shot in the ass for my attitudes toward work. He, of infinite success and almost unrealistic vision, expressed a lot of faith in me because I am young, and I will be "the future" of this organization and blah blah blah. He told me to go ahead and step on toes, ruffle feathers, and don't listen to what any old fucks have to tell me, Besides him, I need to listen to him, (he's 40, but you wouldn't know it...that's the point) and I don't have much of a problem.
He wants to "usher us into a new age" or whatever, break people down, generalize, compartmentalize, figure out how to manipulate them into buying ringtones so we can stop using outdated media like print (egad!!) radio (wholly defeated, I hear) and TV (we all love it), in preparation for the cliff-dive that CD sales are going to take. Now I can take this either way. Ive spent a lot of my life, especially my academic one, railing against this kind of manipulative, catch-phrasey jargon-rich rhetoric that comes from "Advertising Professionals". I am still very uncomfortable with it, but since this is my job for the time being, I am going to do my best to break it down, balance it out (the benefits of being a Libra), and go "black checker, red checker" on it...thanks uncle Joey.
Ok, quickly, my cynical analysis: This is all well and truly fucked. I'm fucking quitting, going vegan, deleting my facebook, shopping at thrift stores, and moving to Wascott Wisconsin, where I can drink in ONE bar, write leaflets, and jerk off a lot, safe from falling prices and the retarded/old greeters at Wal-Mart.
Anyway, on with the angular over analysis of this situation.
See, a lot of people hate on such pie-in-the-sky thinking because it is unrealistic, but when all the chips are down/the cards are on the table/at the end of the day/when all is said and done, cut and dried, the men separated from the boyz II men (pick your favorite cliche, apparently...) and you need to pull off some cool shit, it doesn't hurt to have one of these big dreaming motherfuckers in your crew. Inversely, it also helps to have a cynical realist fuck around too, to keep Mr. Helium Brain tethered to the ground.
In my situation, I have to weigh the options.
My other influence apart from this guy (we'll call him SVP), is my immediate boss, who I work with day to day. She is sweet, smart, and driven, but the truth is that she is extremely overworked and frazzled. I watch her writing emails and it is strangely amusing, watching her hammer on her keyboard and swear a lot. She resents SVP. She is the gruff Sargeant in the trenches stepping over rats and corpses holding defiled and failed magazine ventures, he is the Colonel, all shiny buttons, medals, and fucking fantastic boots (the 2009 Jordans, probably). To her, he doesn't know the reality of the situation, and he truly does not know what its like to bust ass every day in the mud like she does.
Because of SVP's rallying though....I get the distinct vibe that my department is afraid of me now....more on this later
(TO BE CONTINUED)
There are a few other things though. Lil' Wayne is a fucking genius, if you don't know by now, you better get to the learning annex, bitch.
So be a competitor or get out the weather
Me? I got a umbrella and a Beretta
I shook this guy's hand, it was like he barely saw me, I am of ZERO concern to him, and his handshake reflected that. Loose, soft, unmotivated. I'm surprised I even got a look at all, or any kind of acknowledgement. A dark club, sunglasses on, and a non person like me is not a combination a guy like this even needs to concern himself with.
They ask me why I wear shades at nighttime...cause I don't wanna see nothin'.
The Diplomats work right next to me. I see Jimmy Jones' mom almost as much as I hear "Ballllllllin!!!". In the same vein, the cool ass AV technician guy made a music video about his receding hairline called "Ballllldin!!"
I went to the offices of Rolling Stone/US Weekly today for a luncheon with the rocker guy from American Idol who lost. Free food, and I got to see if the people who work for US weekly really are the twits I imagined they were. They are. Free food, free Rolling Stone magazines everywhere.
Ok, that's it, I'm out. I have a big weekend planned. Have a good one. Wait...before I go...
MORE SHANE MCGOWAN!!!!! AAAAHHHHH!!!
I realize it's small....thus making it anticlimactic, but, AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
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