Saturday, March 14, 2009

I was settling my father's estate in the assistant manager's office at the Chinatown branch of the very big bank. The assistant manager was scrupulous and cheerful. Resting on his credenza were a number of framed certificates from marathons he'd run: Atlanta. Philadelphia. Three hours and forty-seven minutes something. Signed by Mayor Street.

There was also a pile of pamphlets promoting the very big bank's credit card customer loyalty program. There were three messages in italics on the front of the pamphlets:

Shop online and watch as your savings add up.

Save automatically as you spend.

Use your credit card to earn cash back.


I was struck by the oxymoronic nature of these commands. We like to think we've come a long way, baby, since advertisers told us cigarettes were healthy. We like to think we once were treated like children - or worse, rubes - but that now they'd better all watch what they're doing, boy. In fact, we might've regressed to a yet more infantile state. They once had the gall to lie to us about what we didn't know - that smoking kills. Now they have the audacity to lie to us about what any child would know.

Shop online and watch as your savings add up.

Now they realize they can dispense with such subtleties as the spurious argument, the logical fallacy, the bogus expert. No more straining, no more unseemly exertions: someone had the bright idea that it'll all go better if they boldly, unblinkingly tell us the craziest nonsense they can.

Save automatically as you spend.

This, somehow, is what we're can't resist. Try to reason with us in bad faith and we'll shame you, scold you, ride you out of town on a rail. But tell us something crazy, something obviously totally fucking wrong and we're suddenly mesmerized, slack-jawed and drooling.

Use your credit card to earn cash back.


For Christ's sake.