Curb Your Enthusiasm

When I worked in the ad agency world, I was involved in many new business pitches. We'd win some. We'd lose many. Just like any typical ad agency.

One thing we'd never do, ok almost never, whether I was at Chiat/Day or BBDO or even Team One was participate in your typical new business gimmickry.

We didn't make stupid videos of employees eating pizza (or whatever passes for it) at a Pizza Hut. We didn't don moronic costumes to show our commitment. Or send potential clients giant tubes of toothpaste, you know because they'd be smiling so much for hiring us.

We didn't feign enthusiasm.

We did the work.

Because enthusiasm is cheap. It's shabby. It's lazy. It's one dimensional bullshit, created by people who think bullshit works. I will take rational cynicism over manufactured enthusiasm 8 days a week and twice on fan-less football Sundays.

Charlie Manson's followers were enthusiastic.

Nazi Germany was enthusiastic.

The Atlanta Falcon fans, and the players, at Super Bowl LII were incredibly enthusiastic when they held a 25 point lead over the New England Patriots deep into the third quarter.

While they were zealously high fiving and slapping each other on the butt, Tom Brady and Bill Belichek coolly went about a strategic approach, matched by precision execution of a plan to get them over this seemingly impossible hurdle. And they did. For those of you that don't follow gridiron, the Falcons lost.

This country does not need Precedent Shitgibbon's jingoistic, flag fucking, paper thin, bargain basement enthusiasm.

This country does not need airport rallies, where dumbfuck Red Hats, convinced of their own invincibility, gather in large mask-less crowds to hear a con artist clap for himself and whine about how the world "doesn't like me."

This country does not need tacky boat parades. I'm not impressed by classless bourgeois lunkheads tearing up a lake in their mini-yachts with clever names like the SS Liberals Tears or SS PussyGrabber or SS King Covfefe.

Though I could watch hours of footage showing those glorified dinghies getting capsized by lake wakes and their flailing owners clutching a life raft in one hand while maintaining a sturdy grip on their Bud Light in the other.

There are about 50 days left until the election.

Plenty of time for Red Hats to put their fervent zeal to the side and take a cool-headed, rational, objective look at the genocidal havoc Grandpa Ramblemouth has wreaked upon this nation.

I'm hopeful they will.

But I'm not very enthusiastic.