MarketCon 2007

So I was invited to a marketing conference—really, a "futurist" conference, but I'll describe what that means in a moment—and decided to go along the line of thinking that if I'd spent the last six years standing in front of the White House telling passersby we needed to overthrow George Bush and then one day he invited me in for dinner, I'd probably have to go do that too.

A "futurist" conference is sort of hard to describe to, well, anyone I think who does not run one, but the gist is that you gather all these various forces together that represent differing emerging trends, and then you invite people to come witness the emerging trends and suss them out a bit, see what is to be gained from them. And who wants to do that? Mostly, marketers. Other people too, sure. But mostly, marketers.

And these marketers wanted very much to hear, apparently, my anti-marketing screed. Which is just as well. That way, later: I can say I warned them.

I'm not going to dwell too much on the conference itself. Suffice it to say that I met a hypnotist, but not the guy from Al Jazeera, and the former Prime Minister of Poland but not the current one of Estonia, and that the people who run the thing and many of the attendees and the location and the accomodations and all are really really great. But that in many ways it was a bit like having dinner at the Shit House with George Bush.*

[Umm, SERIOUSLY, that was a typo, but it was so funny I had to leave it. Sorry. If I start blogging for Slate or the Daily Kos or the Huffington Post or something, I won't leave typos in, I swear. But for now: all funny typos stay.]

OK. So. I'm at the thing and I'm on the podium and I'm telling my funny little stories. You know: I started makin' me own media 'cause yours didn't encompass my POV. I became involved in politics because the companies you work for kept overlooking my lived reality. I started agitating for independent media because I came to view democracy as an important, vital aspect of this country, on the assumption that other kids out there might be interested in contributing to our culture as much as I've tried to. And they should have access to those resources.

Then: Minor Threat / Chicago Ad Blasters / The United States Postal Service's way awesome new promotional campaign for a single film series that is already the most popular one in the universe.

The message: you—marketers, and the corporations you represent—are ruining culture, destroying modes of dissent, eroding integrity. You have put my friends out of jobs, polluted otherwise natural forms of communication, and helped make democracy a sort of nice idea we all pretend we can still access but don't make too big of a fuss about when it becomes clear that we can't.

Please note: that I did not swear, I did not stop giggling, and I did not go all Bill Hicks on them and beg them to commit suicide (my thinking being, that obviously didn't work.) You've heard me say it all before (http://www.punkplanet.com/anne_elizabeth_moore/blog/outside_the_loop_int...). I'll say it all again in November when UNMARKETABLE comes out. Hell, I'll say it all again if you buy the beer. Point is, I was nice but firm.

Immediate reactions, however, ranged from the angry to the extremely angry. Clearly, I had insulted certain elements in the crowd. All three public questions started with the statement "Full Disclosure, I work in marketing for XXXCorp," before proceeding on to the question—two being slight variants on the theme, "do you realize that you are wrong?" The phrase "paradigm-shifter" was bandied about, although no definition was given, and someone used "meaning-maker" which I can't even begin to parse. Later I was called, to my face, "crazy". All of which I suppose I expected. Even the one really clever question ("What other thoughts do you have about positive changes in the future that we can all participate in?") was kind of expected. (Not that I answered it: kind of not my job, I figure. Swing me the average annual marketer's salary of approximately $45/hour and I'll consider it, though.)

What I didn't expect, I guess, is the very sweetly intentioned woman who came up to me afterward and expressed that she'd really connected with my message, but had just a few ideas for how I could make it more palatable to a corporate audience.

I won't go into her suggestions; I won't go into a description of the other nice people that approached me and seemed to not be suffering from the same weird condition she was; and I won't go into the fact that I couldn't even really grasp what she was saying as she was saying it well enough to go, "Ummm, no. The point is, You don't actually get to control all messages, all the time."

I will instead just say that if I am invited to dinner at the White House to tell George Bush to his face he is a trail-blazingly dangerous and short-sighted man, and that I have and will continue to do every non-criminal thing in my power to stop him, I may decline. That, or at least I will not be surprised when later he shakes my hand and thanks me for my vote.

*There was, in fact, a Reagan-appointee there, but somehow I wasn't seated next to him.