So I'm about to drop the little dude off at daycare last week when I notice somebody eyeing me from down the hall. Panicked by the thought of non-virtual communication, I grasp around in my pocket for a weapon but, alas, find only Chap Stick and two nickels. The corridor narrows and dims cinematically; I steel myself for the inevitable. Then the guy sidles over and, with a big smile, waits for the recognition to wash over me.
In a nifty bit of philosophical-nutritional synergy, while my mind was still fixed on burgers and mortality I happened upon the most recent video volley in McDonald's "Our Food. Your Questions." series of dietary propaganda. Previous installments attempted to answer queries like "what are McRib patties made of?," "why is the McRib seasonal?" and "where did the McRib come from?" These are all questions I have asked, usually when pondering secondary options as I encounter a 30-deep line at the bagel store after six beers. I love that McDonald's has bothered to answer them and believe they should give the ...
For today's exercise, then, I set out to find a piece of brand video whose approach to the upcoming holidays might be described as "sardonic," "contemptuous towards those who would consume conspicuously" or "evidence of an imminent psychotic break in its creator." After an hour or two of clicking and then recoiling in horror upon hearing the first lite-jazz notes of a Starbucks-ified holiday classic, I gave up.
I've never warmed up to NPR's offerings, despite the urging of family and friends to give them another chance. "Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me!," "A Prairie Home Companion" and the rest - they've always struck me as programming for people who crave wittiness and/or intelligence by association. This is just one guy's opinion, of course, and that one guy just declared his undying love for fart jokes.