I love the phrase, the banality of evil. If you check Wikipedia you will find that most intellectuals despise it, as some phrase akin to the complete absence of original thought. But those words are poetry. I say, don't hate the words because they are beautiful.
It is like my favorite word, perfunctorily. I'm not as crazy about the adjective form as I am about the adverb, and the noun is a complete mistake. If I could find some clever collection of 3 or 4 words that included perfunctorily, I would write an entire book just to use it as the title. If it was the 1960's, I could write a book of poetry and call it Perfunctorily, Me. Far out.
The banality of evil has nothing to do with this post, but I also wanted to use Computer? I Don't Even Know Her. So you can see why I chose the one I did.
But I saw this tweet today "Lunch time tastes better with a Dr Pepper. At least, that’s our opinion." It was from the Dr Pepper Twitter account. Somehow it got put into my timeline by a retweet.
Now, I love Dr Pepper. I drink it often. I had some today. But this corporate bullshit, this advertising barrage, enrages me. Twitter is bad enough with its often incomprehensible 140-character replies, public timeline gangbangs, spam links, trojan traps, and incomplete thoughts. But this, to me, crossed the line.
Where will it end? Will every corporation just tweet, "Consume our products. Now"? How about, "Wouldn't it be nice to wipe your ass with cottony-soft Cottonelle brand bathroom tissue?" I probably won't mind too much if tweeting is a viable career option when the public libraries disappear. Will the world end not with a bang but with a twitter?
Or maybe I'm still frustrated by The Hurt Locker. I saw this movie the other day and I don't know what the hell it was about. I don't know what the "hurt locker" is: is it a bomb; is it a place where man keeps his inner pain? I have no freaking idea. And I don't know where the hell David Morse went. He's in the movie for two minutes, then gone. And I love David Morse. Were they just trying to reproduce a character like Duvall's fom Apocalypse Now? So I don't know what the hell that was about. Was the movie just a year-in-the-life flick or was it supposed to be some metaphor for something something something that I didn't get. I liked it because it was a gritty war film, but I didn't like it because it didn't ask me to slow dance, get in close, and squeeze my ass like it needed to.
Twitter? I don't even know her.