for 6 January 2000. Updated every WEEKDAY.
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Toy Story It is all very well to characterize those who oppose toy advertising around the holidays season as killjoys and whiners. However, if you widen the debate what you see is a televised landscape where every program has an advertising tie-in or is sandwiched by targeted advertising (yes, even the apparently benign Thomas the Tank Engine is a sales pitch). I don't suppose for a moment that we will stop the gimme culture or peer pressure (for both adults and children) to get our hands on the latest toy/executive gadget. You have to make a judgement on how knowing kids are and whether they can see the Big Sell or whether they are more naive and therefore susceptible to these techniques. What this whole thing does is to gradually reduce the quality of children's television to a series of either one-dimensional or literally cartoon characters aimed at selling toys (vide Power Rangers). As with the relationship between haute couture and perfume, we all know where the real money is. Peter Garelick <peter.garelick@dtn.ntl.com> There are certainly complaints to be made about the cruddy quality of children's programming aimed at selling toys, but then I don't own a TV so I don't have many of those complaints. As the piece tries to argue, there's lots of resistance even in the giving in to consumer impulses. And to my mind, there's nothing wrong with buying a toy anyway. Best, Eugen  Subject: My god Did you write that? Go home, light a candle, play a RECORD on a GOOD turntable, eat something you made, and read a book (the kind with a cover and pages). Then immediately rent the video of Fahrenheit 451; fast-forward to where Julie Christie is staring at her "big-screen" monitor (is it a Sony?), waiting for the TV image to tell her what to do; and ask yourself if Ray Bradbury's vision of the future is here today, created by our blind love of gadgets and technology. Let's not dial into the Web for a week and do things that don't require batteries, bandwidth, modems, or gizmos straight from CES or Comdex. Let's not even watch that crap on MTV or the latest streaming, screaming video. Can your audience do it? I doubt it. Do you ever wonder why there are no kids playing in the parks, why no one under 15 knows what a pickup baseball game is, why vulgarity is a way of life, why images are everything?We've done it! <jzelesnikar@ cyrus.net> It's really a lot easier to read by electric light, thanks. And my turntable's pretty all right — not one of them multithousand dollar models, but it works. I don't have a VCR or a TV, but I still think I can say that no, Ray, the world's oldest adolescent with the attitude of the world's oldest man was not quite on the mark with that future vision. Eugen In the beginning I thought this was going to be another one of those toys-are- the-root-of-capitalist-evil type essays. The quotes from the Furby epoch of maniacal consumerism was the carrot leading me on. Alas, cruel fate, why dost thou mock me? Toys are part of something we as humans require in order to sustain our meek and pitiable lives? Are you joking? Did you go to an Ivy League school? Are you ... gasp, shriek ... a Republican? I think the Brits had it right in their time-transcendent comments on Furby: Kids are impressionable, and advertising exploits that, and parents get so caught up in the wave of I-want-I-want, thinking that their kid, if not in possession of (insert toy-of-the-year here) by Christ-mahs time, is going to turn out horribly deranged and someday open fire on the school during recess and blame his parents because he didn't get the Pikachu doll for Christ-mahs a few years back. It's a kinda sad circle we've gotten ourselves into, and an essay taking the side of the toys peddlers is a bit scary. Though, maybe I missed the point. But the essay is coming from Suck, so I'm sure not many people are reading it. Just your typical holiday curmudgeons and bah-humbug cynics like me. Have a happy, uh, holiday season? A loyal reader, Matt Downs <mwdowns@unity.ncsu.edu> I'm not a Republican, and my school was way below Ivy League, but I, too, have no patience for people who consider selling-and-getting the root of all evil and did indeed intend to strike a blow for the right of kids to want — and then destroy — any ol' stupid thing they want, and for their parents to wait online for it, guilt free! I hope you can continue to enjoy Suck in the future. Merry Christmas, Eugen Hey, got a good book for you. You've probably already read it, but if not ... It's Technics and Civilization, by Mumford. You can find it at Stacey's on Market Street and some other places. Written about 1930, it still applies heavily, although the author is a little taken in by socialist ideals that have been shown to be dead ends with time. Your article, though, reflected a lot of the criticisms of a consumerist economy that Mumford shares with you. His reflections on the effect of the machine on human society would interest you as well, I think. Trey Butler <Trey.Butler@schwab.com> PS Good article, with a nice punch at the end. Makes me wonder if it'd be worth keeping the tree around for Burning Man. My sarcasm was perhaps too heavy — I was actually railing against anticonsumerism, and from everything I know about Mumford (not a lot firsthand, actually) I don't think I'd care for him much either. Consumer sovereignty is far more powerful than corporate sovereignty. Best, Eugen Filler Polly, No, no, no. Do not let the Christmas holidays steer you down the path of negativity and bitterness. Fuck the fucking fuckers. There is so much more to have and share during these times of inflated self-worth. Fires, in a fireplace and not some motherfucker's house, crackling and warming your house and your heart. That numbing buzz of alcohol you feel as you walk down the snow-covered streets singing Christmas carols to yourself, but just loud enough for strangers to hear and notice you in "the spirit" but not of the Spirit. And last but not least, the joy of giving. And you can start by replying to my Christmas query: "How big are your breasts?" Have the greatest holiday, because shit keeps rolling downhill and more and more young, stupid, sniveling kids are getting up the hill faster. Nate Stinson Dallas, Texas Wow. I wish I had the numbing buzz of a vacation that you apparently had. Polly Dear Polly, It struck me that Filler is just like Christmas cookies — a plateful of sugary, nonnutritive goodness with which we glut ourselves; we're shocked when nothing remains but the crumbs of the Fish column, feeling just slightly sick afterward, unrepentant but a little greasy. Ohhh, I live for Wednesdays. At least during the week, that is. On the weekends I actually live for Saturdays, and kind of for Sundays, though have you ever noticed how Sunday doesn't hold the allure that Saturday does 'cause deep down you associate it with having to go to church? Ick. Well, I didn't want the year to end without letting you know I love your work and I'm glad to have Suck and Filler in my life. It makes me feel so much better that there are bitter, cynical, but ultimately pathetic women out there just like me! Regards, Joanie <daphne@imageworks.com> But most of all, pathetic, huh? Good to know I can comfort you with my patheticness. Keep on glutting yourself, Polly Dear Kauai no Polly-Chan, I read with interest your foibles in trying to control your anger this (by now) past holiday season. One word: Quake III Arena. Wait, that's three words! Well, screw it, the point I'm trying to make is this: Instead of spending money on worthless self-help books, killing people in real life, or trying to suppress your rage at the general ass-liciousness of the world, just go out and get a nice first-person shooter like Q3A and open up a bloody can of virtual whup-ass on all and sundry! Of course, it doesn't necessarily have to be Quake. You might go for Unreal Tournament instead, or perhaps Half-Life if you prefer a plot line to go with your massacre. But Q3A is the best because it's the purest — it's all about nothing but slaughter, murder, and mayhem! And the catharsis makes you feel great afterward, like a good enema. Believe me, I know. I do phone-tech support for a major company that shall remain unnamed, and the crap I have to take from customers and from my bosses can really drive me up the wall sometimes. But my co-workers say I'm always bright and cheery. Why is that? Because I can come home every night and blow the living crap out of everything that moves!! I feel great and so will you! You could even make a custom skin of that cute little angry squirrel thingy. Imagine her running around with a rocket launcher or the BFG10K, putting the maximum smack down on anything that even looks at her funny. Weeeee! The only problem is that you might be so mellow afterward that it might change the complexion of the Filler column. Oh well, it's better than the funny farm or lethal injection! Just trying to help, <jugurtha@mail.integraonline.com> Please make an appointment to see the guidance counselor at your high school immediately. |
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