Adze – A hand tool for shaping wood.

Ads – A handy tool for shaping would. (As in would you buy?)

The internet is quite a silly place. Instead of watching a few ads in order to get to the weather forecast on the original idiot box (TV for the youngsters) Today you can go to the local television station’s website and get the weather forecast directly. You no longer have to wait for the ads to play out one at a time. Now they place three ads on the page you pull up as soon as you pull it up.  First the ad that the station embeds in the beginning of the clip starts to play. Immediately and at the same time a pop up ad will load and start to play right over the ad playing. If that’s not confusing enough another whole page will pop up “under the fold”  (on a screen unseen directly under the one your watching) with an ad on it playing just as loud and obnoxious as the other two.

All three ads playing at once create a kaleidoscope of overlapping sounds that remind me of a cackling brood of chickens, or a gaggle of geese. None of the ads get any attention as you quickly go around with your mouse trying to click all the little exes to shut the damn things up. The only one you can’t skip is the embedded one that’s playing at the start of the clip. But by the time you change screens to close out the buried ad and find the little x on the pop up (they seem to put that x in a different place all the time) you have completely missed the ad they are trying to show with the clip.  This has become the little ritual mouse dance performed every time I want to watch the weather forecast on the new idiot box. (the computer for you oldsters)

It’s nice to know that when they married the two biggest waists of time in the modern world the time wasted went up exponentially. Those two waists of time being the telephone and the television.

Last summer right before I lost CoCreator’s Blog (through no fault of my own) I was noticing that WordPress was now flagging words with links to ads. Now that I’m back on a WordPress powered site called Cocreator’s New Blog I see they have added pop up ads. Please don’t feel obligated to watch or even listen to these very unwelcome interruptions. They are not there by my admission. (ad mission?) They even show up when I click on to add a post. I simply click them off. If ever the day comes when that is no longer an option I think the internet’s fantastic run will be over. People will leave it as fast as they left cable television when the ads started appearing there. Even faster than they left broadcast television. When you are paying for something already, like cable TV and this internet, you don’t want hucksters screaming in your face. You will stay at home and order from a catalog rather than going to the market overrun with hucksters.

About ten years ago I was watching a talk show where the host and the guest were discussing the lying ways of modern mass media. The guest declared that modern people who’ve grown up in this disinformation paradigm (pair of dig em) had developed a sixth sense for uncovering the lie. An automatic response that occurred on the subconscious level. Almost an instinct developed for survival. At the same time I believe we have developed a sixth sense for tuning out these advertisements. In much the same way for much the same reasons. Our very survival. I can personally attest to the fact that not only have I noticed that development in my own psyche, I think I have further evolved into an anti-ad mentality. Any more when I see an ad, especially one that’s shoved into my face when there’s no justification like here on the net I make a mental, conscious effort to never buy those products again.

So keep it up you fools on Madison Avenue. And wonder why your sales are down. You’re not driving traffic anywhere but away. Soon producers will turn around and walk the other way when they see you coming. The same way potential customers have been doing. Maybe you should have gotten a clue. It wasn’t like there weren’t many along the way.

First came the TV clicker. The TV channel changer was invented by someone who wanted the choice of running from your adds. I know I know you thought you were smart by synchronizing the major networks so all ads came on at more or less the same time. People flocked to pay TV to avoid that but you idiots started placing ads there. So some whizzbang developed the personal video recorder so they could tape the shows they wanted to watch while they did some other enjoyable activity. That way they could sit down at their leisure and fast forward it past the intrusive ads. That was good enough for a time.

Then came the promise of video on demand via this internet. The programmable video recorder had met it’s match. People flocked out to buy the new idiot boxes that made this possible and the revolution had begun. But alas, paying for the service was not enough. Madison Avenue had to get into the picture. Revenues were falling fast and a finger was needed in the Dick Van Dyke. (New York City was a Dutch city after all) New tulips to sell, get them while they’re hot. The popup ad was born. As mouse powered whack a mole became the popular pastime by default. Yet the best way to end that mole problem is to trap them (in your subconscious) and eliminate them one by one. (by individual boycott)

May the promise be fulfilled. That long ago made promise of the internet, eliminating the middlemen. Buying directly from the producer. Ads should be herded up and corralled inside the classified section of the medium. If they don’t want to totally shoot their foot off. That way if your looking for an item, or an advertisement, you’ll still be able to find them. Feeling free to click on. What do you think?

With that I think I’ll click on out of here.

Then, there.



May Flowers

Happy Tax Day. (I started writing this yesterday)

A wise old man I knew (Mine) once told me not to fret about paying taxes, that means you made a profit. But then he was part of the greatest generation. Or so our mas media have christened them as such. Ah the main stream media, herd dogs of a soon by-gone era. The generation that was consumed in this new world order for the ages. The generation who willingly marched into the slaughterhouse. Not as meat cutters, though some were adept at playing the part. These poor misled, starved and battered souls were not only robbed by ten-eleven years of  economical depression, they were more than willingly herded up, buzzed short, clothed in uniformed monkey suits and poured out on beaches all around the world to try to snuff out the “demons”  their overlords had created, or was that cocreated?

Don’t get me wrong, they were far from the first. Those of the civil war era were maybe a little more easily led astray, convince that their brothers needed to be murdered, either to keep them in the fold or to let them be free of it. Had the tremendous taxes imposed upon the rural states (reportedly up to 40%) simply been ignored, much as the thirty million people who’ve decided to quit playing the corrupted income tax game (as of the year 2000, who knows what it is today fourteen years later) and had the southern states forced, by any and all “off the grid” measures, the Federales to enforce their unsupportable crunch, hundreds of thousands of lives on both sides of the conflict could have been saved. But that premise could be supposed for almost all the fallacious conflicts polluting our common history. When listening to fools the Mob rules. I think you know of which Mob I speak.

Later in life he was more than aware of what had transpired. Luckily he was still in Diesel School for the Marines when the Japanese super dirigibles held Truman hostage with the severe threat of biological warfare. The ensuing suing for peace or at least ceasing of hostilities that had Truman capitulating at the Emperor’s feet from the corner he’d been backed into saved my father’s life. He was going to be the “sacrifice to Mammon” along with possibly millions of US conscripts that our malevolent leaders had planned to offer up for world dominion. His contemporaries and he were spared the inevitable death on Pacific beaches trying to take the Japanese islands when this insanity was permanently delayed. Or I wouldn’t be here writing this diatribe today. He would have died along with the rest of America.

These last little tidbits of history I have no way of knowing if he was aware of. What I do know is his reaction to my first use of the word bankster in a conversation we were having. Of those crooks he was aware. Also, he was plainly aware of many of the other atrocities our malevolent leaders have perpetrated. He told twice (I think he forgot he’d told me) (or he thought it appropriate to remind me) of his little encounter while wandering down around Mena, Arkansas looking for an airport when a rather authoritative man drove up to him and confronted him. More or less telling him to get his Yankee ass back to Iowa where he belonged if he cherished his tranquility. He spoke of hair standing up on his neck. I wonder if he was aware that that’s your subconscious’s way of telling you to pay very close attention.

Though I have yet to read the Treaty Of San Francisco that official ended the state of war between our two great nations I intend to try to find and read what must be a very interesting and revealing document. It may be online. It may be in libraries somewhere. That isn’t the only treaty document I intend to read. I’ve heard that the Treaty Of Westphalia between the prepubescent United States and King George’s British Isles is a fascinating read. If  “Merakins” actually knew real history what a world it could be. Until then we might want to listen to someone whose job it was to burn that history. The links below are there for anybody’s examination. Listen at your paradigmatic peril.

See ya in the funny pages writing teenie tiny ‘toons,