Decemberween: Jetpens

I watch a channel of ads.

I

I cannot wrap my head around this.

I cannot, in any sincerity, imagine even in the most preposterous of dystopian cyberpunk-ass future, envision this scenario that came into my life. I know my dad watches long, meaningless streams of seemingly interchangeable interactions between overpaid white blobs, and occasionally talks to the television about what a good or bad job they’re doing. That’s cultural. That’s a game. That’s sport, I know that shit.

In Demolition Man there’s a gag about the idea of characters listening to old retro jingles for the fast food chains that are all that remain of 20th century culture, the only pop songs on the radio being the ads. That feels like it has some stunning boomer energy, really, when you consider it’s basically ‘oh, the ads are becoming so much more of the radio these days!’ which, sure, whatever, I don’t even listen to the radio itself.

But right now, on Youtube, there is a channel that is literally just ads, and I am subscribed to it, and I put it on when I need something restful that isn’t headphone-required. Because it’s a channel about stationery supplies.

JetPens is a store. It is a business, in California, that sells pens and pencils and pencil cases and sharpeners and card dies and obscure book stuff and backpacks and so many things and the store doesn’t serve Australia.

I mean I can order from it if I want but I don’t need to. There are local stores in Australia that can probably handle the products, if I want them, but what’s more, I don’t really want to buy them. I have my needs met, here. But instead, I watch this channel of gentle, interesting, upbeat and completely friction free ads, and sometimes, thanks to them, think about the kinds of problems I see in the material objects I work with, and the ways I might work on them going forward.

Oh, and it’s great for gift ideas for Fox.