All posts by Matthew Callan

Promoting Political Involvement through Cheese

On a daily basis, my email inbox is polluted by messages whose presence baffles me. For instance, I receive an email from CMJ every single day. That is not hyperbole–every single day. Not only have I never purchased a copy of CMJ, but I’ve never attended any show as part of the CMJ Fest, or even put the letters C, M, and J together until today. I haven’t the slightest idea how I wound up on their mailing list, but I am definitely on it, because not a day goes by that I don’t get some missive about how I only have three days/two weeks/four hours to register for some event of theirs. I don’t bother to write back and say REMOVE because by this point, I find it more amusing than annoying.

Similarly, I get at least one email a day from a Democratic politician or pundit. The origin of this is less mysterious: I went to some Kerry meet-ups way back in the heady days of 2004 and made the mistake of giving my email address at one of them. So for the rest of my life, I will check my email first thing in the morning and see at least one message from James Carville or J.B. Poersch.

They’re the kind of emails you can see in your inbox from across the room, because the subject line is usually in all caps and consists of one angry word like OUTRAGE! Normally, they go straight in the trash unread. After years of receiving these screeds, I suffer from Outrage Fatigue. I contribute enough time and money to Important Things that I don’t feel bad ignoring these appeals.

Then yesterday, I received an email from Chuck Schumer, New York’s senior senator. He is a frequent OUTRAGE!er, and his emails usually wind up in my recycle bin. But the subject line of this one caught my eye.

cheddarbomb.pngKudos to you, Senator Schumer. An email with the subject CHEDDARBOMB is an email I will read.*

You see that, political fundraisers? Put a food and a percussive verb together that normally have zero relationship with one another, and you’ve hooked me. Here are some humble suggestions for future subject lines:

  • PUDDINGSLAM!
  • SALMONCRUSH!
  • SANDWICHBRUISE!
  • CUTLETSTOMP!
  • ZITIPUNCH!

* In case you’re curious, the email was Chuck trying to stir up donations for Senator Feingold of Wisconsin. Normally this is called a moneybomb, but Wisconsin? Get it?

Endeavors Elsewhere: In the Year 2000

conan2000.jpgAgainst the advice of family, friends, several mental health professionals, and my own sanity, I’ve decided to delve into the Mets’ 2000 season. I’ve decided to call this project In the Year 2000, because I am clever.

The reason: I considered my insane, unrequited love for the 1999 Mets, which carries with it the belief that this team was far superior to the 2000 squad. Was this true, or was I simply allowing my biases to cloud my judgment? Being the empiricist that I am, I concluded that I could not know the true answer unless I delved deep into 2000.

You may recall that last year, I reviewed the Mets’ 1999 season in excruciating detail, game by game. I will not be doing that for 2000. This will instead be an overview, with some in-depth focus when it comes to particularly notable games (such as the postseason).

Oh, and I will be doing this over at Amazin’ Avenue, a Mets-centric blog of taste and distinction. I’ve already put up an introductory post and a look back at the Mets’ trip to Japan to start the 2000 season. If you follow me on the Twitter, you’ll know when future posts drop.

However, rest assured that this site will remain a one-stop shop for swipes at Mike Francesa and Richard Lewis ads.

Pointless Nostalgia Video: BoKu

Commenting on yesterday’s McRib-related post, Brian Dermody had a trenchant observation about the resolute “1991-ness of the 1991” ad. There is something exquisitely early 90s about this commercial. The jittery teal lettering. The man’s Parker Lewis Can’t Lose haircut. His shirt with the Trapper Keeper-esque random geometric shapes. It’s like a heavily moussed time capsule.

Brian also invoked the memory of another ad campaign I had not thought of in quite some time: BoKu, starring Richard Lewis. Thanks to the standup boom of the 80s and a hit sitcom Anything But Love, co-starring Jamie Lee Curtis (well, a sitcom that was on the air, anyway), this was truly the golden age of Richard Lewis.

The neurotic humoredian parlayed his fame into a sweet gig for BoKu, a quixotic attempt to get adults to drink juice boxes. Of course, they didn’t call them juice boxes, and they didn’t have straws, but they were clearly drink boxes to any discerning eye. So who better to emphasize their adulthood than Richard Lewis, that paragon of early 90s grown-up-ness, the living embodiment of the I-don’t-quite-what’s-going-on-itude of this era.

These commercials are prime examples of why I like ads so much: because they perfectly encapsulate the era during which they were made. Ads are not meant to stand the test of time. They’re meant to be consumed, either consciously or subliminally, then discarded.

How could you understand the early 90s, the ennui of the First Bush years, the strange economic nervousness of the post-Black Monday years, the nascent rumblings of grunge, Generation X, and rave culture? An era that, to someone who did not experience it, doesn’t seem to have any characteristics at all? You could read a novel from this time, or watch a film or television show, and you might get a sense of it. Or you could watch this ad and know it in 30 seconds.

See? Now you don’t have to put season one of thirtysomething in your Netflix queue. You’re welcome.