How Ads Got "Woke"
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
Gerard Van der Leun
The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God’s last Put out the light was spoken.
— Robert Frost
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
— BY THEODORE ROETHKE
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
Comments on this entry are closed.
What ads?
I love how internet ads all feature attractive women who neither appear beneath the link nor have anything to do with the product. Knowing this keeps me from clicking on the link.
Pet peeve. An example is the local bank, it is a local bank, a few branches in adjoining towns. And on the South Shore of MA, it the area the Irish, Italians moved to from Boston. Very white, all the towns here are over 90% white.
So on all the literature from or at the bank, Negros; some Asians, some brown skins and more than half women. There are some white women, they are always with a black man. Some white children, shown with their parents; black or brown and sometimes Asian (sometimes they forget to show the white mother).
But white males are not seen. Are. Not. Seen.
The only ad I saw from that bank that had a white male, and only white people, was the TV ad trying to dredge up folks that had over $50K in ‘disposable funds’ to hand over for investment management.
Pet peeve.
This made me SO happy!
https://youtu.be/0rLhJZTHYo4
https://uploads.disquscdn.com/images/d52dcb605a1749473c93bacb859089a6ad08537cafddbc96e0da8d21fcd4b9bf.jpg