(no subject)
Jan. 12th, 2003 03:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
petroniaI just spent fifteen minutes filling out a Ford marketing research survey, as a favour to the cousin of my manager. (Plus I was promised $25.) Dear saints alive, are these advertising gigs machiavellian or what? "Gaze at this logo. Now tell us what subliminal messages this logo conveys to you." ...Actually I derived a disturbing amount of pleasure from the exercise. McLuhan Generation and all. "Yes, I'm a young, educated, relatively affluent urban female who looks at pictures of cars on the internet and knows how a rotary engine works. Bet you really want to hear what I think, DON'T YOU NOW?"
Lied through my teeth about my buying plans, though. I'm very conflicted about automobiles. I love them when they're beautiful, and hate them when they're ugly, and resent like hell the fact that all the people my age are desperate to own one, like lemmings hooked on gasoline. (The latter point is my rebellious dadaist coming to the fore. Like how I'd only want a cellphone if I could blog with it; how I refuse to write emails that couldn't be treeware correspondence; how I trust credit cards online far more than cheques through the mail; how I hate chairs because they're far off the ground and you have to sit alone. I have yet to encounter anyone who understands what I mean when I say I don't want chairs in my future apartment.) It's enough to make me declare that I hate driving and never want to own one of the things - which is not strictly speaking true - except then people assume it's because I'm a mechanics-onchi female. -_-; Bwar.
In conclusion, I hate being a lemming who jumps at any chance to paw the parental vehicle, and I hate being a girly-girl who avoids interacting with anything featuring an internal combustion engine. Above all else, I hate being a surburbanite who drives because it's what you do, and how else would you get anywhere? North American society, however, is not offering me a Door #4.
...I should move somewhere where people still ride water buffalo.
Lied through my teeth about my buying plans, though. I'm very conflicted about automobiles. I love them when they're beautiful, and hate them when they're ugly, and resent like hell the fact that all the people my age are desperate to own one, like lemmings hooked on gasoline. (The latter point is my rebellious dadaist coming to the fore. Like how I'd only want a cellphone if I could blog with it; how I refuse to write emails that couldn't be treeware correspondence; how I trust credit cards online far more than cheques through the mail; how I hate chairs because they're far off the ground and you have to sit alone. I have yet to encounter anyone who understands what I mean when I say I don't want chairs in my future apartment.) It's enough to make me declare that I hate driving and never want to own one of the things - which is not strictly speaking true - except then people assume it's because I'm a mechanics-onchi female. -_-; Bwar.
In conclusion, I hate being a lemming who jumps at any chance to paw the parental vehicle, and I hate being a girly-girl who avoids interacting with anything featuring an internal combustion engine. Above all else, I hate being a surburbanite who drives because it's what you do, and how else would you get anywhere? North American society, however, is not offering me a Door #4.
...I should move somewhere where people still ride water buffalo.
no subject
Date: 2003-01-12 10:40 pm (UTC)-mjj