The Walking Dead. Oh sure, they pretend to be alive. They walk and talk and cite buzzwords and have all manner of pious ideas. But no blood. No guts. They are mannequins.
They love to congregate on Madison Ave, wherever the hell that is. Well, actually, it’s a place where people with water in their veins pretend to be business people. Or artists. Or living, breathing humans. But they just churn out “the star maker machinery behind the popular songs.” They are well-dressed dead people.
I see them because we get invited to talk on the same TV shows. I am the maverick because I have the gall to think advertising/marketing should sell. They think it should create exciting photo shoots in Paris. They hate me. Bring it on! I can’t hate them; they are dead! Not a single idea in decades. No idea of what a balance sheet looks like. They think they are in business, but are really interred.
Ok, so this is harsh. Yes! And life is short. And business is tough. And itEmail This Post