Strobe ads

August 18, 2014

I don’t know who the schmuck is that thought up those strobe-light TV ads that have become all the rage, but I’ve got a feeling it’s not cream and sugar spiking his coffee.

I am aware that aging sort of muddies up the brain’s capacity for doing wheelies, but even at my least civilized life-phase I don’t recall “wheelies” being the preferred mode for getting from one place to the other, physically or cerebrally. Nothing in nature serves as a model for the staccato 30 second incidents of neurological assault and battery to which present day TV viewers are subjected.

They tend to occur like comments from an AK-47 every ten minutes while one might be attempting to keep track of who’s naked and who’s afraid or some other such intellectual slurry. It’s like “Distracted Relaxing”, which, like driving, should be the singular focal point when engaged in that activity. I survived the influx of that stuff back in the seventies. The only good thing about Disco was one didn’t need organic compounds in order to have an out of brain experience.

I wasn’t born into this multi-tasking fad, inspired, I suppose, by the cascade of techie-toys raining down on us like flies at a barn dance. I had enough trouble just getting through Algebra II A Cappella. I wouldn’t have had a clue how to approach such an undertaking while simultaneously trying to slay orcs, email a joke to my cousin in Boston, read and respond to serial text messages , and send a rude selfie to the girl in row three, et cetera.

I read somewhere that TV is expected to join Univac and hand-crank Marchant calculators pretty soon, and I can’t say that it bothers me much. It’s hard to find much programming requiring more than the intellectual capacity of a sea cucumber, after all, and when I succeed I don’t want to experience a dopamine cascade every ten minutes followed by the inevitable struggle against the urge to break something.


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