Today, I finally figured out how the comments part of a blog works. I was thrilled to see that I had had six comments so far, one of which, by Brian Brooks of Indiewire, was particularly memorable. I quote:
"Just so you know biatch, your blog costs money to host, so 'thanks Scion.' :)"
This was in response to my very first blog ever, entitled "Boycott Scion," in which I try my best to register at least a modicum of protest against the advertocracy in which we live. I had been offered a blog on Indiewire, but nobody had bothered to inform me that the price of having a blog on Indiewire was that an advertisement for a product that I had never chosen to endorse would loom beside everything I wrote.
I wasn't sure what the word "biatch" meant (although I was pretty sure it was derogatory) so I looked it up online and found the following definition:
(1) Synonym for "skank-ass ho"
(2) Epithet used to induce feelings of inferiority and/or emasculation
Interesting. I love learning new words. Thank you for that, Brian.
But what really baffles me is that an obviously intelligent person who writes for an online publication as prestigious as Indiewire would take offense at my attempt to call into question the corporate hegemony over every aspect of our lives.
I once had a friend who told me excitedly that he had recently come up with a brilliant idea for making a shitload of money. His idea: have audio advertisements at gas pumps so that when people fill their tanks with gas, they are bombarded with ads at the same time.
Needless to say, I was appalled. As if there wasn't enough noise pollution in the world.
I understand that things cost money, and that Indiewire has no choice but to offer advertising space on their website if they are to pay the bills. But to be offended that someone would question the optimalness of this state of affairs strikes me as remarkable. It reminds me of the scene in "Gone With The Wind" in which the African-American slaves enlist to fight on the side of the South.
posted by Caveh Zahedi at
12:21 AM
