Now we can watch Green Acres the way it was meant to be seen.
Everywhere, words are mixing. Words and lyrics and dialogue are mixing in a soup that could trigger a chain reaction. Maybe acts of God are just the right combination of media junk thrown out into the air. The wrong words collide and call up an earthquake. The way rain dances called storms, the right combination of words might call down tornadoes. Too many advertising jingles commingling could be behind global warming. Too many television reruns bouncing around might cause hurricanes. Cancer. AIDS.
Fashion is not art. Fashion isn't even culture. Fashion is advertising... and advertising is money.
Lenina Huxley: — You seem very much alone, John Spartan, but... things aren't all that different. Perhaps you'd like to hear an oldies station? Oldies?
Alfredo Garcia: — This is the most popular station in town. Wall-to-wall mini-tunes. You called them "commercials".
[Lenina and Alfredo sing along to the sausage commercial]
John Spartan: — Somebody put me back in the fridge.
— What the hell is this?... Hey, you. What the fuck is this?
— What the fuck is what?
— This! This [pointing at the billboard]
— Advertising, I guess.
— Advertising what?
— Something obscure?
Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. No job is too big. No fee is too big.
— The choice is clear. The Orient 620. The American made car, for American made drivers.
— See, that's a lie. Orient engins are made in Japan.
— Guilt Signal. The movie everyone's talking about.
— That's another lie. We're not talking about it.
— We're the United State's Post Office. We care.
— Oh, that's the biggest wopper of all!
— He said what? To your face?
— No crime has been committed here.
— Oh, come on. Defamation of character ain't a crime?
— It isn't defamation if she's simply asking a question.
— What are you, an idiot?
— Don't call me an idiot, Dixon!
— I didn't call you an idiot. I asked if you was an idiot. That was a question.
If you are not paying for the product, then you are the product.
- 1
- 2