This is a post about the news of the invitation of the announcement of the release of the iPhone 5. News fell that today would would indeed be the day the product would be available to the public. No! That would be the day they tell you about what’s in it and when you can get it. I think…
Either way, pretty soon, the posters will be everywhere. You’ll be filled with awe and envy, cursing your stupidity for owning the antiquated cotton gin known as the iPhone 4S. Further chastising of yourself with continue into your sleep as you become angry that you don’t have enough disposable income.
One day, I will have the money to partake in this Mr. Toad’s Wild Arms Race. I love Apple. My love of toys and things that go “zap!” was one of the few boy things I held onto when the gay agenda came for me as a child. I love Apple, but I still call my Dad more times than I think about the iPhone 5, so I feel like my world is still on straight.
The artist known as Banksy operates in secret. He’s rarely, if ever, been seen in public. His graffiti has become the zenith of what’s now known as Urban Art. He would have quite a few things to say about the iPhone 5 announcement. In fact, he’d probably say this:
“The thing I hate the most about advertising is that it attracts all the bright, creative and ambitious young people, leaving us mainly with the slow and self-obsessed to become our artists. Modern art is a disaster area. Never in the field of human history has so much been used by so many to say so little.”
Banksy aside, Banksy is right! Apple’s design and creativity rivals and trounces any modern artist. I know this first hand. I watched the Oscars, and all the Oscar clips, and I must nod my head numbly in agreement.
I won’t disagree with people that Apple is art (That is to say, I agree that Apple can be art). That’s Apple’s secret. They found the recipe for success by marrying technology with art. It’s what makes Microsoft so so possible to resist.
Here’s another Banksy quote on advertising today:
“People are taking the piss out of you everyday. They butt into your life, take a cheap shot at you and then disappear. They leer at you from tall buildings and make you feel small. They make flippant comments from buses that imply you’re not sexy enough and that all the fun is happening somewhere else. They are on TV making your girlfriend feel inadequate. They have access to the most sophisticated technology the world has ever seen and they bully you with it. They are The Advertisers and they are laughing at you.
You, however, are forbidden to touch them. Trademarks, intellectual property rights and copyright law mean advertisers can say what they like wherever they like with total impunity.
Fuck that. Any advert in a public space that gives you no choice whether you see it or not is yours. It’s yours to take, re-arrange and re-use. You can do whatever you like with it. Asking for permission is like asking to keep a rock someone just threw at your head.
You owe the companies nothing. Less than nothing, you especially don’t owe them any courtesy. They owe you. They have re-arranged the world to put themselves in front of you. They never asked for your permission, don’t even start asking for theirs.”
Banksy is the closest thing we have to Batman. And if he’s Batman, the international hackers called Anonymous are the Joker. Cut from the same cloth, one of them was just given a little push in the other direction. 25 suspected members of Anonymous were rounded up by Interpol in a sweep across South America and Europe.
Say what you will of their methods, they are scrupulously honest, and they do not play politics. Maybe that makes them Batman?
As far as my opinions go on advertising, we either need to go full Blade Runner or we need to chill the fuck out. This current tempo we’re going at is just insincere and gluttonous.
Or maybe I’m Glee season premiere. Sorry. My brain got away from me there. I meant to say maybe I’m wrong. It just seems a little rich hearing about what a tough economy we’re in when I step out my door and am being told how much I need to get my ass to Vegas’s Cosmopolitan Hotel.
I’ve been doing my best to feed money back into the economy, but I’m exhausted. I think I’ll go to the Getty instead.