The Spectacle Always Wins

A couple of hours into the Super Bowl Experience, an experience in which the game itself constitutes, at most, 37% of said experience, we began to wonder when the ultimate commercial would appear, the commercial that would take what we had seen to this point and distill it into its purest definitive form. After a few minutes, we had conceived the ultimate Super Bowl commercial of 2019.

A CGI’d image of Gandhi sitting in his cell. We see the suffering of his fellow countrymen, shots of starvation and cruelty, then cut back to Gandhi. A British prison guard enters the cell, says a few mocking words about his hunger strike before producing a bag of Wendy’s (logo prominently displayed). “We’ll see if this might change your mind,” laughs the guard as he leaves. Gandhi looks at the bag, then looks out the window. The bag, then the window. He is contemplating his choice. His mouth begins to water. Finally, he lunges across the room, tears open the bag with a violence that stands in direct violation of his non-violent principles, and slowly, and with great pleasure, savors a delicious Wendy’s Double (I had one last week—they sent me a coupon in the mail!).

There would be outrage of course, both real and feigned. People would point out the less savory aspects of Gandhi’s personal life (not good people). An interview would appear where the current custodian of the Gandhi brand would explain how much money they received for allowing their great-grandfather’s likeness to be used in the commercial, and how a portion of that money would go towards charities to fund causes which Gandhi would have supported, &tc., &tc.

After eleventeen or how many commercials conflating social justice and buying a product, whether it was Serena Williams describing her feminist journey and then urging us to download an app, or the endless ads calling for “unity” and “togetherness,” after a while you just wanted to puke. I have to disagree with the Coca-Cola company. I don’t think it’s wonderful that we all have different views, not when some of those views involve white supremacist violence. That is a view that lots of people have. And the fact that we all drink Coke (which we don’t) doesn’t, uh, make me feel any better about it.

While we’re on the subject of soft drinks, Pepsi putting their logo all over the city of Atlanta (the birthplace/headquarters of Coke) is some pretty cold-blooded branding. Though given the (intentional, deliberate, easily avoidable) price gouging currently going on re: insulin, I’d advise everyone to take it easy on the sugar.

Or corn syrup, for that matter. Did you know the cure for corn syrup is beer, not just any beer, but one beer in particular?

Look, you have to enjoy this shit. There’s something both hilarious and tragic in a commercial where the protagonist, a generic everyman, is bombarded throughout his day with bad news (morning paper headline: Today Even Worse Than Yesterday), only for us to arrive at the end of the commercial and find out the cure for our protagonist’s suffering is...a home security system connected to his wi-fi. Last night’s theme boiled down to Everything Is Completely Fucked But We Have A Product That Will Make Your Life Easier Please Buy It. The fact that it delivered this message through either ironic comedy or a story of personal struggle only made it more insane.

Speaking of personal struggle, I realized last night that the idea of what constitutes “sacrifice” has changed in the last couple decades of our neoliberal descent into individualized madness. Making a sacrifice used to mean taking on personal hardship in order to help someone else, i.e. sacrificing your happiness for the greater good of society, loved ones, whatever. Today it means getting up at 6am to exercise so you can make the sports team. The essential meaning of “sacrifice” in 2019 is the idea that you are putting off your own personal, selfish short-term pleasure in order to achieve a greater, more significant long-term pleasure that is every bit as personal and selfish.

But it’s the appropriation of real, concrete social struggle that is the real psychological tarpit of last night’s festivities. There’s a case to be made that seeing feminism and social justice displayed all over the most-watched television event of the year can have a positive effect. I definitely prefer it over, say, the idea of using white supremacy and tax cuts to sell products. I suppose the marketability of marginalized people can be interpreted as a positive sign of where we stand as a society. Still, as the night rolled on, I couldn’t help thinking that hearing the language of protest used in a commercial can also have a negative effect. It can rob the language of its power. Or to put it another way, last night we recognized that language as the language of protest. Today we recognize it as the language of advertising. And the next time someone says those words, they might not sound like someone fighting for justice. They will also sound like someone selling a product.

The slogans of the Situationists became the car commercials of the 80’s. Demand the Impossible sounds like someone driving a Jeep through water, not students and workers united in solidarity against a society that offers nothing except more work and an early spiritual death.

The revolution will not be advertised. Capitalism can assimilate any form of rebellion. These ideas have always been true, and always will be true. But, in spite of this, change is possible. Real change is already happening. It is essential to remember that a better world isn't for sale. It's not something any of us can buy. I think a lot of people already know that. But the semi-inclusive, semi-woke messages on display last night didn't bring anybody a single step closer to shit except for the company's writing the checks.

Me, I was hoping the final score would be 3-0, and people would finally stop watching this bloodsport--the commercials as well as the game.