I do not care for your peri peri chicken sauce or your 2 for 1 deal – fuck off. I do not care for your low-calorie diet cereals – fuck off. I do not care for your fat free yoghurt – fuck off. I do not care about your talent shows and I do not care about Denta-life for my pets – fuck off, fuck off, fuck off.
Adverts on every video. Scroll through the TV guide and it almost always seems to be on an advert. Lotion cream, spreadable butter, car insurance, coffee, phones, yogurt, high street clothing brand one, delivery services, high street clothing brand two, smart watches, stomach tablets, high street clothing brand three, gaming consoles, beer, a new line of mascara, cereals, mobile data contracts, foundation, holiday providers, high street clothing brand four, mortgages, cruises, betting, condoms, banking, nappies, perfume, supermarkets, stock trading apps, high street clothing brand five, toothpaste, digestion tablets. Every wave length is saturated.
You can call it marketing, but let’s call it what it is – propaganda. Manipulation is not restricted to the horrors of the 20th century, it is alive and well in Nestle, Coca Cola, Apple and every other Leviathan stretching itself out into our cranium. At all hour’s clever people with degrees are getting paid to figure out how to break your mind open and get you to buy shit. Every time you switch a device on it’s working on you. Every time you step outside there is something bombarding you. These fuckers would bio-engineer plants to show their logos if they could.
Dial this up by several factors and you will get a vision of what the future will hold – the insertion of products in every facet of one’s existence and commercialization at every level. The future is tattooed teeth and sponsored nails. The future is adverts on your car, clothes, the buildings you pass, the roads you drive on and the household appliances you use. It’s people treating their personality like a brand, sponsored conversations, branded tattoos and pornographic cooking shows.
Sale offers straight into your pre-frontal cortex; mandatory surveys; triple ads and double midroll adds for a five-minute video that contains paid promotion within it. Minimum spending quotas and the abolition of saving. Brain reminders so that you never forget a thing. New shopping lists and when to buy the items on them.
The logical extreme of emancipation shall lead us to the erosion of the final distinguishment – the membrane between the individual and society; between of one and of the many; between the self and the rest. Everything will be an undefinable, unoffensive mass of economic activity and artistic regurgitation. We will be reduced as vessels for products to soak up market capital. Every home appliance will have a secondary sexual function so while you eat bug paste that simulates ‘real food’ you can get a hand job from your toaster and manage your virtual profile which is the only thing that is left to do in between receiving government UBI cheques.
All this until we can’t make our own decisions without a computer in our head giving us the correct signal like a whip to a stead. WHIP! A micro-chip induced hit when you buy certain products depending on what those in charge want you to buy that month, or week, or day, or hour. The great mass of humans will become sponges for economic tides, absorbing output, cushioning deficits, balancing accountant tables – pawns in corporate chess. There will be no view without the dazzling colour of an advert; no moment without a sound or slogan; no content without a sponsor; no unverified thought.
Thought Horizon 