Sunday, October 02, 2005

For Rent

I just got a pay per hit offer to advertise on an archived top page from 2004 June: the one that brags about the Father's Day card that Catfarmer sent me. Many an offer to trade links, to display banners ... I discard as spam as fast as I throw away the home loan or credit card offers. Realize: pk is the guy who wouldn't wear an I Like Ike button in the 1950s: a time when I actually did like Ike. I don't use my body to advertise others. K. is part of my body: at least part of my mind. I don't want Calvin Klein on my ass, Michael Jordan on my chest, Babe Ruth on my back ... I razor labels from my clothing. I resent the difficulty of removing the car dealership's logo from my car.

Partly, it's a class thing. Classy people are above engaging in trade. Of course the classy individual is first supposed to receive rents from a shire, country ... a state ... My great great grandfather was Prime Minister of England; but that's not good enough. He should have been an earl. Better: a duke.
That's a joke, of course, though few ever seem to get pk humor.

With total seriousness, I do offer my body, my mind, to advertising: where I chose the entity advertised! I advertise Shakespeare, and pay to do it. I advertise Korzybski, Bateson ... Fuller, Prigogine ... Tolstoy, Thackeray ... Jesus, Ivan Illich ... Masaccio, Kurasawa, Tarkovsky.

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