some things are better left unexplained.

The number of unmatched socks in this sock drawer is: 2. Add your own sock.

Somebody named Blogger WKen shared the following words of wisdom...

Agreed.

My daughters will be taught that if someone comes up from behind, grabs them, and kisses them without their consent that the assailant is fair game for Tae Kwon Do practice target.

Or Karate. Or whatever she's learned. (Except fencing, of course.)

This commercial really is worse than the usual sexual objectification of women. This one isn't just saying it's okay to ogle every woman, it's saying that sexual assault is a virtuous activity.

9:14 AM  
Somebody named Blogger Unknown shared the following words of wisdom...

Kudos to you Christopher! So proud to be your mom right now, and loving the message to Audi!

4:08 PM  

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Friday, February 08, 2013

Audi Commercial, Superbowl XLVII


They say everyone in your dreams
is actually you.
The commercials are made to be
every bit like dreams:
brief, intense, surreal
and yet entirely relatable.
They are your dreams
planned for you
by people who think they know you
better than you know yourself.
This year,
we watched the Superbowl
for the dreams.

The awkward teenage boy
in the tuxedo is you.
Mom, who is also you,
pins a white rose on the lapel,
reassures you that lots of kids
go the prom without a girlfriend.
Your kid sister
doing homework in the next room
"No, they dont..."
is also you, arguing with you.

You mutter and slouch away
until Dad stops you,
tosses you the keys to his Audi
and tells you to "have fun tonight."
But since Dad is also you,
that means...
You just gave yourself an audi!
A real Dad might have told you to be safe
or be home by a certain hour
or don't drink out of the spiked punch bowl
before you try to drive home in his Audi
but not you.
You are a complete hedonist,
and common sense is not on the agenda.

Now look at you
cruising the streets in your Audi
so smooth
pulling up alongside that stretch limo
so a girl  in a prom dress
can pop her head out the window
and shout to the world, "PROM!"
As if that's a thing people shout out the window,
ever.
As if it wasn't obvious to you,
the kid in the tuxedo driving an Audi
on prom night
where she might be going
or why she might be dressed up in a limo.
But the girl is also you,
and you are the loser with no date to the prom
so why would we expect you to know that?

You park your Audi
in the principal's private parking spot
which says everything it needs to
about the change that has come over you
in the short drive across town
since you, you mother,
told you, awkward  boy with no prom date
how dashing you thought you looked.
And now you are being dashing.
Look at you,
strutting confidently down the school corridors,
pushing boldly through the crowd,
eyes fixed on the girl in the tiara.
Her back is turned.
She has no idea you are there.
You grab her
like you have always wanted to,
ignoring the look of surprise on her face
you pull her toward you
kiss her fast and hold it.
Her prom king boyfriend turns
in time to see you kissing his girl
and gives chase.

Cut to you,
speeding off in your Audi
with a satisfied grin from ear to ear,
a fresh shiner darkening your eye socket.
You rocket around a corner
and howl proudly at the top of your lungs,
proclaiming a predator's victory
as you drive off into the tag line:
"Bravery.  It's what defines us."

Dear Audi,
This is your commercial,
targeted to the awkward teens and heir fathers
who watch the superbowl.
To the prom kings and moms
the kid sisters and girls in limousine windows.
You are giving them this dream.
Everyone in it is also them.
Or have you forgotten.

You are also the girl in the tiara,
At the prom with the boy you love
Voted prom queen,
and he is king
and you are
Smiling and happier than you have ever been.
The commercial should end there for you.
but,
You are grabbed by the arm,
spun forcefully around by a boy you hardly know
who does not speak a word
or offer you a moment to figure out what is going on
before he pulls you in to a kiss
to which you did not give consent.

Sexual contact
that involves force
without consent.

How much closer
to a definition
does it have to be?


You are the prom king.
You may have never hurt a living soul
but you are too noble to look on
while your girlfriend's creepy stalker
sexually assaults her on the best night of her life
shaming her in front of every friend she has.
You hear the dance floor Ooh in response.
You know how sensitive she can be.
When the creep has fled,
you will be there to help her salvage the evening,
to talk through it afterward,
to keep that kid away from her
in the hallways on Monday.

Bravery is not your car
or your parking spot
or your reckless behavior.
Bravery is not avoiding conversation,
fulfilling your cravings,
or taking what is not yours
just because you think it should be.

Bravery starts
with getting your own prom date.
Your car will not do this for you.
Talk to a girl, awkward boy.
Ask her if she wants to dance
or get a coffee,
or kiss you on the mouth in the middle of the prom
while her prom date looks on,
but when she says no,
(and you know she will
because she is the prom queen
and if she wanted you for a prom date
you know she would have asked you)
when you are rejected,
bravery is the willingness to be rejected,
to take no for an answer,
and to be ok with that.

You are both of them.
You are in love with the idea of yourself
stealing your own dignity
and thinking you got away with something.
This will not be the dream
you put in the subconscious of my children.
I will teach my girls to be brave,
that they are not just pretty things in tiaras
to be coveted by cretins,
that there is no love to be found in an ambush
and that they don't need a prom king
to throw their punches for them.
As your eye swells closed
in a blackened socket,
perhaps you will remember.
She is the prom king.

Bravery.  It's what defines us.

Your blog is better than my blog.