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I just posted the below as a comment over at Jeff's site; he's sparking considered thought over there, as usual. I'm thinking about adding comments to my site, as well, but I like having my own forum.

The most important part of this post, to my mind, is the idea that our economy would crumble if purchasing were driven by reason, rather than by desire. I completely agree with that assessment. For better or ill, we have chosen as a culture to accept advertising as a facet of modern life. But more importantly, we have chosen to base our entire economy on the idea that more is not just better, more is necessary. If our economy does not grow, it is considered to be failing. This seems strange. I understand that a certain amount of growth is necessary to accommodate the rising population, but perpetual explosive growth is probably not sustainable, or realistic.

I believe it’s because of the fact that we rely on explosive growth as the yardstick of our economy that we find ourselves in such straits as we currently are. Capitalism has brought us many good things, or at least many interesting things, but it’s also self-reinforcing: if buying fuels growth, and advertising fuels buying, then advertising must necessarily escalate to promote more buying. Which, in turn, fuels more growth, more advertising, and more buying.

I’m not at all opposed to the idea of advertising, personally. I’m about as anti-censorship as one can get, so I think that the appropriate response to advertising, for those that don’t like it, is to speak out against it. Educate people about why it’s so damn bad, if you think it’s bad. The real problem with advertising, currently, is that nobody will admit to preferring appetite over reason, and we’ll never solve this problem by not talking about it.

Ignoring billboards is not the answer, either—you have to put serious thought into what’s wrong with that billboard, into what bothers you about that billboard. In this way, the evil of advertising (and yes, I agree that it’s insidious) can inspire us to greater heights than we might normally achieve on our own. I sound like a plant for the advertising industry when I say that, but I really do believe in the power of conversation. Viewed objectively, advertising is just a challenge to our powers of self-control, which we should not fear if we really believe we can control ourselves.

W/r/t wanting to be controlled, I think most people enjoy being told how to feel, what to do, what to think, what to admire. It’s easier that way, but obviously less rewarding in the long run. I drove 104 mph on a backroad in southern Illinois yesterday, and the thrill was visceral, but all things considered I’d rather have been on a train, or some other form of public transport. It’s hard to remind yourself of that, though, especially at 1.5 miles per minute.
Excellent work again, Jeff. Keep it up.

Top 5 songs for whenever the hell-whenever the hell

1. Beck, "Hell Yes" I love every song I've ever heard titled "Hell Yes," so perhaps this was no surprise. This is a straight up rap (inasmuch as anything Beck does can be called "straight up") with robotic voices, an insouciantly '80s drum-machine beat, a sampled Japanese woman, and the following lyrics during the chorus:

"Hell yes I'm movin this way/
I'm doin this thing (please enjoy)/
Hell yes I'm turnin it on/
I'm workin my legs/
Hell yes I'm callin you out/
I'm switchin my plates (please enjoy)/
Hell yes I'm cleanin the floor/
My beat is correct"

Our little baby's all growns up.

2. Queens of the Stone Age, "Broken Box" Laura asked in the car, "who are we listening to?" "It's Queens, baby," I answered, and she looked stunned. Indeed, this fuzzed-out late '70s rave up does not sound at all like typical Queens, but even so, this makes #2. Should tell you what I think of their new album.

3. The Flaming Lips, "Buggin" God, is this band weird. I'd've said that BEFORE I heard the synth-mosquito sound they back this song with, not that I needed any confirmation. I like to shake my big old ass, however, and the beats in this song are sufficient to move it. Oh word?

4. Beck, "Scarecrow" I'm very pleased with Beck's new album, as well. As I said to Rick on Monday, he builds a groove in this song and then has the sense to ride it all the way out, to a fade. Great use of harmonica, too, second only to #1 on this list.

5. the Rolling Stones, "Honky Tonk Women" A) no list is complete without the Stones (and it is a FACT that I am a seventh son!) and B) I heard this song on the radio today, and was so compelled to play air guitar that I couldn't stop myself. I'm kinda moving on to air drums, though. Or trying to.

It's not often that you spot them before they spot you. Yesterday, under an ominous and low but dry cloudy sky, I was chugging along on a 2-mile run when I heard something in the brush, not 20 feet from the trail where I stopped short. At first, I panicked, figuring the twin white stripes and upturned tail to be a skunk, who usually don't take kindly to interlopers.

I was confused for a few seconds while my mind resolved things: the creature's body was brown, not black, and it was far too large to be a skunk. By the time they noticed me, I had counted at least four of them. Later, I'd recall six deer peering curiously back at me, not inclined to run, checking me out as I tried not to move.

We had about five minutes together, silently peering around branches and me hoping nobody else came along. They got tired of me and took off quietly, and I watched them as long as I could. I felt bad about stopping my run, but I've never been that close to a live deer before. When I was sure they were gone, I booked it back home, in record time.

Life in a Treehouse

Last night I made some really delicious pasta. I had some penne lying around, as well as some tomato, basil and mozzarella from caprese with my folks on Monday, so I mixed it all up, poured on some olive oil, salt and pepper, and called it "dinner." This was at 8:30 at night.

Living alone can be, well, lonely, but I am rapidly coming to like it. Not that I'm not looking forward to October 8th's nuptuals and the prospect of my wife moving in with me, but it's so freeing to operate on your own schedule. I had a great time in college with no money and a select few roomates I didn't get along with, so being on my own has been a lot of fun so far, and I'm expecting that trend to continue.

To recap: the new place is spacious, clean, quiet, and sunny. There's a forest preserve less than an eighth of a mile away, where yesterday evening I walked through a savannah that recalled fond memories of playing Myst as a teenager. The cloudless sky was suspended above, a stiff wind blew intermittently, and the sun sank towards the horizon of a very satisfying day.

Feel free to drop by anytime.

So Bobby Bloodyfangs-Flowerhair-Doublechins is counting "two," and his buddy Ernie Evileyes is at "one," and this is way too convoluted to adequately explain without pictures, which will follow when I get to them. The gargantuan feral infant of my middle twenties lurks less than 28 hours away, at which time I will be Officially Moving out. My room at my parents' house is a sty right now, which is actually a step up from the Slough of Despair it was yesterday. You'd think I would've started packing earlier, but doing things sensibly has never been my style, or forte.

I've been praying for No Rain and actually it's been gorgeous here lately, and that's supposed to continue this weekend--bonus. Work could not be going slower right now, and this year's Cubs look suspiciously like last year's Cubs. How am I not myself?