Process of Elimination #5

I am not what I watch on TV. I am not which toothpaste I use or which magazines I read. It doesn’t matter where I heard about your product. I don’t need what you’re selling. I don’t care which famous voice tells your lies. I’m not interested in your low, low prices. I am not your customer. I will not ask my doctor if your side effects are right for me. I do not accept your planet-killing sandwich. I am not a consumer, but a creator. An investigator. You can not imprison my imagination in your top 100 list. Or limit my choices with fashion. I am capable of more complex thought than your latest blockbuster, your hit series, your online poll could ever hope to inspire, even in your wettest marketing dreams. I am not a demographic. I will not give you my money. I will not give you my time.

I am. Not. Listening. To you.

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It’s obvious that when the apocalypse comes, I will be one of the weak people. I will have no spin kicks with which to defend myself. I will have only the magic of my words and my understanding to protect me. I will be meat for the beast. (Unless I can engage him in conversation.) And I am fine with that. If my death at monstrous hands becomes imminent, I hope I can meet it in a lounge chair, sipping on a gin martini.

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