Hey everyone, sorry about lack of new posts recently; it's been a crazy summer! Over the past few months I've had the opportunity to intern at one of North America's most esteemed advertising companies, The Finger Firm! Under the tutelage of Frank Finger, I learned all the fundamentals advertising: dreaming up world-changing ideas, wooing big clients, using exclamatory words like "wow" as verbs, and "wowing" those wooed clients.
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| Frank Finger |
But I also learned about the dark side of the ad business. It's a psychological oligarchy that influences all of humanity, but is controlled exclusively by old, straight white men. Sex is the primary currency of advertising, which ironically uses female bodies to warp the minds of women everywhere. But as long as they can sell Axe Body Spray.
Moreover, advertising reinforces stereotypes and tokenism that keeps all minorities in a steel box with a glass ceiling. And the commercial despot insists that ultimately, we only exist to buy products.
So the lows are pretty low, but the highs are pretty high! It's really just like the TV show Mad Men! So I will now chronicle my adventure, discuss what I've learned, and share some of my innovative work, all of which was strangely rejected.
First Day
I'll never forget what Frank Finger said to me when we first met: "Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my office? And where are your clothes?"
Confidently, I replied, "I'm Alex the intern! What am I doing in your--oh, this is your office? I am doing yoga, specifically the downward dog pose. And my clothes are laying on that fancy space-age bench/sofa you got here, being protected from wrinkles and rips."
Touché, he thought to himself, probably. Didn't expect to get such a quick and specific answer to his triple-headed question. He was being aggressive with me because he knew that I'm an alpha-male just like he him. Only I'm younger, more fit (thanks to the yoga), and poised to take over the business that he built from the ground up. Symbiotically, his fatherly instincts kicked in because he sees himself in me; a young protege whom he can mold and nurture as a means to make a difference in the world before he leaves it. This dichotomy would prove to be a source of tension, as well as creative fuel for both of us.
"Go down the hall to Mel Condo's office. You're working with him." Finger bolted out of the office with the sort of reckless speed you'd expect from an exec. One day I'll be that rude and fast.
"Wait," I shouted, "Check out these cool dress clothes I got from Express!" (HOW DO YA LIKE THAT PRODUCT PLACEMENT? SEE, I'M A GREAT ADMAN!)
As I clumsily pulled my abrasively shiny lime green shirt over my head, I heard Finger in the hall speaking with Carla, the sassy ginger office administrator.
"The intern," Finger said. "This 'Alex the intern'? I thought that was gonna be a fucking girl!"
"Well you were halfway there," said Carla. "You had him waiting in your office bending over with no clothes on! Ha!"
"Real funny, Carla. Make sure you go back into the resume pile real soon and find me a viable piece of ass. And for God's sake, get one without a unisex name!"
They were taking about me! As I sat eavesdropping, hidden behind the door, I thought, boy this feels familiar. I had the most surreal flashback to my parents' divorce. I could hear my old man yelling like he was right outside. Wow, a psychological sub-plot! This really is just like Mad Men!
So I began working with Mel Condo, and I actually liked him much better. He's edgier; Mel is closer to my age, which means he has A.D.D. too. He's a Gemini--which you would think meant split personalities or whatever, but Mel is the same razor-sharp gangster-ass Mel 24/7. I told him "you're more like a Scorpio like me!' When I was a kid there was this show, a Power Rangers rip off, called Tatooed Teenage Alien Fighters From Beverly Hills. And instead of colors/dinosaurs, all the different characters where represented by zodiac signs. It was crazy, here it is on YouTube.
But back to Mel. OK his last name is fucking Condo! His full professional moniker is Mel L. Condo (his middle name is Liam, cool!) and to his friends, he's known as "Mellow" or "Mellow Mel L". He used to live in New York! And now he lives in, you guessed it, a condo! He's about the coolest guy I've ever met.
Mel's not a "hipster" per se, but it was his idea to put hipsters in every commercial. Ipso facto, he has defined American pop culture. Or as Mel put it, "I can't change America. But I can design a sick flag with fucking stars and stripes and shit. And I can write a phrase like 'Land of Opportunity'. Then you tell me what you think of when you hear the word America."
First Project
My first assignment was a true challenge: the taboo task of creating a cigarette ad that attracts young kids, without looking like it's trying to attract young kids. I had to make smoking look Kool, but make it look like an accident. And I came up with a bright idea that was going to light up the Newport company like an after-sex fag!*
*Guys, "fag" is what they call cigarettes in the UK. I'm not being homophobic, I'm being intercontinental!
But Frank Finger, ever the straight-shooter, had nothing good to say about it. Specifically, he said: "Awful! It looks like a six-year-old girl drew it... With her feet."
Jeez, tell me how you really feel, Frank. At first, his little quip made quite a dent in my still-developing self-esteem. But then I remembered that Frank ain't nothing but a big ratfink and I don't really give a flip what he thinks! Even Newport's opinion doesn't matter. Clients are idiots. Customers: idiots. I'm the expert, the only one who knows what's good for them.
I'll tell you the only important about an ad campaign: does it work? Does it make the customer want to smoke? Well I can confirm the effectiveness of this ad because I saw it with my own damn eyes.
Minutes after my debut presentation, Frank Finger walked out to the parking garage, with yours truly about, say 10-20 meters behind him. I studied his every move from the shadows. And what's the first thing he did upon exiting the building? Smoke a stinkin' cigarette!
And just like any day in the office, Frank didn't notice me at all. So I proceeded to follow him home to conduct "important market research." I'll disclose my findings here, as this may be a valuable guide if you're thinking about pursuing a career in marketing, or you're just interested in the Finger family.
Things I Learned About The Fingers:
- Wow, their house is huge!
- Frank goes to bed pretty early. Maybe he's depressed? Maybe sometime I could tell him about all the great things Paxill has done for me.
- Frank's wife is hot, hot stuff. She goes jogging every morning and likes to wear tight, fancy neon outfits. And she even has on full makeup, or looks that way.
- The Finger's ten-year-old son is responsible for taking out the trash. He's very good at discovering anybody that maybe be observing his family. Fortunately, his secrecy can be bought for just a few packs of Newport cigarettes.
- The amount of good food this family throws away daily would constitute a world-class feast in the house I grew up in. I wish I would've grown up in the ditch in front of the Finger home.
Obviously, a celebrity endorsement is all you need for a high-impact ad. So I had one of today's top #trending celebrities, Zachery Ty Bryan, to be the figurehead. Boom, done.
Frank Finger's take: "It looks like an eighth-grade girl made this with a cut-up Tiger Beat magazine. So, technically, it shows improvement."
My response: "You mean it shows HOME IMPROVEMENT?"
*Guys, "fag" is what they call cigarettes in the UK. I'm not being homophobic, I'm being intercontinental!
Jeez, tell me how you really feel, Frank. At first, his little quip made quite a dent in my still-developing self-esteem. But then I remembered that Frank ain't nothing but a big ratfink and I don't really give a flip what he thinks! Even Newport's opinion doesn't matter. Clients are idiots. Customers: idiots. I'm the expert, the only one who knows what's good for them.
I'll tell you the only important about an ad campaign: does it work? Does it make the customer want to smoke? Well I can confirm the effectiveness of this ad because I saw it with my own damn eyes.
Minutes after my debut presentation, Frank Finger walked out to the parking garage, with yours truly about, say 10-20 meters behind him. I studied his every move from the shadows. And what's the first thing he did upon exiting the building? Smoke a stinkin' cigarette!
And just like any day in the office, Frank didn't notice me at all. So I proceeded to follow him home to conduct "important market research." I'll disclose my findings here, as this may be a valuable guide if you're thinking about pursuing a career in marketing, or you're just interested in the Finger family.
Things I Learned About The Fingers:
- Wow, their house is huge!
- Frank goes to bed pretty early. Maybe he's depressed? Maybe sometime I could tell him about all the great things Paxill has done for me.
- Frank's wife is hot, hot stuff. She goes jogging every morning and likes to wear tight, fancy neon outfits. And she even has on full makeup, or looks that way.
- The Finger's ten-year-old son is responsible for taking out the trash. He's very good at discovering anybody that maybe be observing his family. Fortunately, his secrecy can be bought for just a few packs of Newport cigarettes.
- The amount of good food this family throws away daily would constitute a world-class feast in the house I grew up in. I wish I would've grown up in the ditch in front of the Finger home.
Next Attempt
Lowes and behold: my opportunity for redemption arrived. Lowes, that was the next client I got to work for. (Did you notice the pun? Lowes? See, there's another advertising slogan--that one's for free!)Obviously, a celebrity endorsement is all you need for a high-impact ad. So I had one of today's top #trending celebrities, Zachery Ty Bryan, to be the figurehead. Boom, done.
My response: "You mean it shows HOME IMPROVEMENT?"
Frank's response: (none)
Then I ran into Mel's office and said the Home Improvement pun. Then he goes "UGHHGHGH?" like the Toolman; we laughed our asses off. Then we did this:
Office Drama
So working in a real-life advertising office is a lot like Mad Men. The main difference is that Carla Doosby is no fucking Joan. (Carla's body sucks!) She looks like Reba, everybody said, especially Carla. She would always make comments about how much she looked like Reba with this outfit or that haircut--I mean she'd say this shit on a DAILY basis. It was so annoying. She may have been 100% correct, but I don't have any idea who Reba is.
One day I overheard another conversation between Carla and Frank Finger.
"I want that Alex-fucker out of here! He's an idiot and a pothead and he's going to ruin the company." Frank shouted harshly.
"Yea right," Carla rebutted. "Don't you know who his dad is?"
"No. Who is he?"
"Well I don't know," Carla continued, "but he's some guy who knocked up Meg Whitman. You know, the HP CEO and founder of eBay? That's his mom. You can't fire Alex, his mommy will ruin us."
"Son of a bitch."
Once again, this reminded me of my parents' divorce.
Quest To Become King; My Best Work
At this point it was clear that an Oedipal dynamic had been established in the office of The Finger Firm. I was destined, determined to take over the throne as the Commercial King, and the only thing in my way was Frank Finger, my pseudo-father. It was time to slay him, figuratively speaking, by producing my best work ever. It was prophecy.
But there's one component of the Oedipus narrative I will be omitting. If Frank is in the father role, I believe that would make Carla the workplace-mother. Well, may I say here on the record, that I have no desire to have sex with Carla whatsoever. And she will, without a doubt, try to bang me once I'm the CEO. But sorry, Carla, no dice.
But there's one component of the Oedipus narrative I will be omitting. If Frank is in the father role, I believe that would make Carla the workplace-mother. Well, may I say here on the record, that I have no desire to have sex with Carla whatsoever. And she will, without a doubt, try to bang me once I'm the CEO. But sorry, Carla, no dice.
Wal-Mart - I made this commercial to promote Wal-Mart's "Low Price Guarantee." They are very proud of hindering price hikes and inflation, thanks to their globalized exploitation of labor. Wal-Mart wants an ad that tells trashy people that they can empower themselves by buying a bunch of cheap shit. But I'm making the ad to tell the truth! And the truth about inflation is, it has to go somewhere. If you keep prices down, something else will inflate. It's like holding in a fart: it might not come out of your butt but it will come out of your head; that's what an embolism is.
Apple, or any vain bullshit tech company - This ad can be accompanied by either dramatic electronic music, or an acoustic guitar with a bunch of bearded bitch boys shouting "Ho oh ho ho ho oh oh!" It shows that the company has a huge heart and loves you, but also has a HUGE brain and is more brilliant than God. ULTIMATE HYPERBOLE! BUY OUR SHIT!
One Last Chance To Clean Up My Act
At this point, my reckless style and wild antics had landed me on thin ice with The Finger Firm. The stakes were at an all-time high when I was approached by the Zest soap company. They knew they needed a maverick adman to make them relevant again.
Bathing habits were changing fast in the United States. Axe was using "sexiness" to take over the young men market, young women were buying only soap that could give them orgasms, and poor Wal-Mart-shopping families were presumably foregoing soap altogether. Would I be able to--Zest desperately wanted to know--converge these contrasting markets? Could I reconcile, or "mashup" the essences of wholesomeness and sexiness?
Yes, Zest. I can.
But Zest was very unhappy with this ad. I thought it would appeal to the entire family. But maybe times really have changed. Families aren't singing and showering together anymore like on The Partridge Family, they're just sitting around, stinking, staring at their iPads.
My Coup De Grace
After several weeks of hard work, I was finally relieved of my duties at The Finger Firm. A shame, but all things must end. Maybe my work will be remembered and revered in the next generation, maybe I'll be just a footnote. Maybe not even that, maybe I'll just be the guy in Frank Finger's ditch.
Where did my career fall off the tracks? Well once HR found out that my mom wasn't really Meg Whitman, I think it freed them from any implicit obligation of keeping a brat like me around. Also, I was caught in the break room putting ex-lax in the coffee--BUTTT!--I wasn't doing it to sabotage my co-workers! I was just seriously backed up for a few days and I needed the relief. I suppose, if we're going to dissect this scenario, I could've just put the laxative in my personal mug and left the community pot alone. But maybe that's my "problem", I'm always thinking about everyone else and how I can help them.
But in this business, it's every Mad Man for himself.
If you're a girl (or someone thinks you're a girl) sorry, you'll never make it in advertising. Your job is to watch commercials and go shopping. And if you ever luck out and get an internship at The Finger Firm, it's only so Frank Finger can fondle you. Hey, I wish it wasn't that way, but it is. After all, I know what it's like to be a woman in the working world.
Now I'm back to square one, passing out my résumé. If I ever get another call, I need to make it clear that I'm a MAN right up front, because otherwise the employer and I are going to get off on the wrong foot.
I'm not here for the fucking lipstick market research study! I'm here to wear suits, drink whiskey, and grab ass... LIKE A MAN!!
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