Thursday, March 30, 2006

"That Would Not Be Kind"*

The most important thing I learned from my marketing class was people buy on emotion not thought. Funny commercials sell bad products. A personable candidate defeats a droll one. You catch more flies with honey. The squeaky wheel gets grease. Intelligence does not always rule the day.

You can see it with blogs. There are some intellectual blogs, but most are like this one; some kid dealing with life. Funny posts get more attention than serious ones. People want to feel not think.

I have no idea what the above means. I guess it is me justifying my laziness. It is me telling me its okay not to think. It is me.

I read over my last posts. I have no direction. I do not know what I want, and I do not care what I want. I am just faking life. I have become what I hate.

But at least I am not calling in any "10 o'clock tuck-ins." The marks are key. You are either selling them something or you are one of them.

*Gordon Lightfoot's "Rainy Day People" A great song. Read the lyrics.

1 comment:

Stephen said...

two quotes that seemed fitting.

"I had thought —I had been told —that a 'funny' thing is a thing of a goodness. It isn't. Not ever is it funny to the person it happens to. Like that sheriff without his pants. The goodness is in the laughing itself. I grok it is a bravery . . . and a sharing… against pain and sorrow and defeat."

and

"Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be. But a great artist —a master —and that is what Auguste Rodin was —can look at an old woman, portray her exactly as she is… and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be…. and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart…. no matter what the merciless hours have done to her. Look at her, Ben. Growing old doesn't matter to you and me; we were never meant to be admired —but it does to them. Look at her!"