Admission

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.

Cc

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Hey Trader Mac

Hey Trader Mac,
I remember my first auction. Up in the hills north of Council Bluffs where I bought incidentally an end gate seeder. Dad and I went to the sale. We had just purchased an aluminum scoop shovel at the Minden hardware store for around $35. They were selling one for only a few bucks off of the flatbed full of shop stuff at this really old timer’s farm sale. If you can call them mountains farms. I asked Dad if we should buy another one cheap and he said, “I prefer to buy hand tools new.” I’ve never figured that one out. When they came to the seeder he nudged me in the shoulder and said, “Your up. You’d better get in there.” That’s the first time I remember that rush. (You never forget your first) That’s the last sale he went to with me. Willy and I attended the rest until we were tooled up. The rush was something I thought would fade after a few auctions. It never has.

Years later Dad sent me to buy a farm for him when he was staying down in Texas for the winters. You would think the effect would be quantitatively stronger given he never told me what to pay. It was. I wasn’t going to even bid since it was damn near where I thought he would pass on the price. The auctioneer (whom I suspect Dad had talked to) wasn’t able to get any more bids and he turned to me and said, “Well Phil, are we going to let them have it for that?” I was flabbergasted. I didn’t know what to say. It was a very small crowd and I didn’t know either of the two gentlemen that were bidding. I didn’t know what to do so I bid. One of the other men bid. So I bid again. The auctioneer cried a while but the man bid again. Now Dad may not of told me what to bid directly but he kind of let me know in a code. The only problem was this other gentleman was sitting on the bid that I thought was the upper limit according to dad’s code. The ball was in my court and everyone was looking at me. I closed my eyes, I hung my head, I bid ten dollars an acre more just in case Dad wanted it for “around that price”. I couldn’t face Dad if the farm went to someone else at Dad’s price.

Talk about a rush! That one was about a half million dollar rush. The most I had ever bid for anything. Maybe the most I ever will. That bid was the one that took it. It turns out I wasn’t the only one bidding for their dad. The only difference was that man’s dad had given him a solid upper limit and Dad had only said, “Whatever it brings you’re the one who will be paying for it. The rent is going to be a 4% return on my money. How much rent are you paying for Vic’s?” (That was the code) I quickly went home and gave Dad a call and told him that “the lightning had struck” and he now owned another farm. When I told him the price he seemed to chuckle a little. I asked him if that was alright he said it was and that he and Mom had better get packed and headed back up to Iowa.

I hadn’t slept for the three weeks since he had told me what he wanted me to do. I didn’t sleep for a few more weeks until he had convinced me that I hadn’t bankrupted him. He told me later that I was the first son he had sent to buy a farm that hadn’t bought it out from under him. Not to change the subject but this reply is getting too long to simply hide it “under the fold” in a comments section. I’ll go ahead and post it here as a reply but I’m also going to make it a new post where everybody can see it. Thanks for jarring (Or is it unjarring) my memory. When I spoke of the rush on that post (I’ll have to go back to find out which one) I had forgotten when this all started. Not to mention that six week “rush” from bidding for Dad. Now when I’m senile I can come back here and remember it again. If I remember where this is. Or who I am.

If I see you there and see you then, and you recognize me, tell me who the hell I am.

Cc

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