"Now the ad says: Find your beach. The bottle of beer—it’s an ad for beer—is very yellow and the background luxury-holiday-blue. It seems to me uniquely well placed, like a piece of commissioned public art in perfect sympathy with its urban site. The tone is pure Manhattan. Echoes can be found in the personal growth section of the bookstore (“Find your happy”), and in exercise classes (“Find your soul”), and in the therapist’s office (“Find your self”). I find it significant that there exists a more expansive, national version of this ad that runs in magazines, and on television."
"In those cases photographic images are used, and the beach is real and seen in full. Sometimes the tag line is expanded, too: When life gives you limes…Find your beach. But the wall I see from my window marks the entrance to Soho, a district that is home to media moguls, entertainment lawyers, every variety of celebrity, some students, as well as a vanishingly small subset of rent-controlled artists and academics."
4 comments:
OK, time for all of the beer snobs to jump in.
It's a play on "follow your bliss" and nothing more.
It's best not to take seriously any writer who doesn't know the definition of "subliminal." That's when I stopped reading. The internet is just a click away, for crying out loud.
Oh, and when it comes to beer, there ain't no bad.
When everything feels all over
Everybody seems unkind
Ebola Opened the Door...
One must have a heart of stone (to steal from Oscar Wilde) to read that crap without laughing.
She managed to work in her resentment of her children two or three times, apparently just in passing. It's hell being an intellectual, I guess.
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