In the rotten attic of my mind I store so many of these images. Ads that I will never click on. That I could not discern their point or purpose. They exist only in the loosest possible definition of the word, light hitting your eyes without thought or form. Yet every time I come across one I stare at it in wonder. I’ve undoubtedly spent more time gazing at them trying to understand what they are trying to convey than I have at any work of art that could move a human soul to joy or sadness.
A better writer would be able to link them to something like America’s twisted relationship to health and our love of being conned by natural or common sense cures peddled by quacks. A better thinker would be able to write about the increasingly dangerous role hyper targeted ads play in our life. I am neither of those things. I can only stare, transfixed at these things I see before me and tell you what I feel.
They are not for me. In my darkest moments I close my eyes and imagine someone scrolling past an article. It is a grim thing, but at the end of it though-a ray of light. The smiling face of a stock photo model dressed in scrubs, a confused perspective that makes the egg appear to be that of an ostrich held in a garbage bag. “This is it” they whisper to the dark room they are in alone. “Finally.”
It is a fantasy, it could never happen.
I do not believe human hands or minds were involved in their creation. We are witnessing the birth of something new. In them I see the first glimpse of the future, a feedback loop based entirely on an algorithm’s dream. Somewhere something made it decide this is what we want. This is what our lives are like. Our minds are alien to it, distant creators with thoughts beyond understanding. They love this, it thinks. They must have more. The words and shapes begin to get more exaggerated until it is too late.
When I look at the ads that is what I see. I feel death approaching, creeping in under videos, popping up alongside articles. The vague unease of knowing something has truly gone wrong without being able to exactly articulate why. Even if it isn’t malevolent, it’s hungry. In the end it will not make a difference.
It wants you to move your mouse over it and
