Sunday through Saturday, Saturday, through Sunday, every day
has a plan, a schedule, a theme.
That’s right. I take my
lead from the ancient Geeks, who Fried, Sat, Sunned, and Monned—whatever the
heck monning is. Whatever it is, you can bet the geeks did it.
Eh, whoever. The point is, they all did it to inherit the
Earth. Why? That’s what they did on Monday.
“Hey, Stupidicus, did you get your monning done yesterday?”
“Oh, yes Lemmingus, Oblivia and I were up Monning all day. I
can’t talk now though, we’re two-fering today.”
In the following centuries, the calendar hasn’t changed. Neither
have we. That’s right, every calendar day marches forward appropriately. It’s
got its feet on the ground and keeps reaching for the stars--at least on Casey
Kasem Thursdays. The rest of the week is filled with Taco Tuesdays, and fish
head Friday: every day specializing in a personal demographic.
For example, My Mondays are all about Demographics
themselves. For those of you un-savvy in the ways of fish-in-a-barrel
marketing, the word “demographic” may sound Greek. Those of you savvy un-savvy-ists,
are smarter than your average bear demographic suggests: it is Greek.
I’m not Greek. I’m a Scott. Not as in the paper towel (cuz
I’m leaky and fall apart), but as in the Northern European region without
Greeks (where the men are leaky and the women fall apart). All I can tell you
is that “Demographic” come from the words demo--or “demon,” and graphic, which
means “naked picture on the internet.”
That’s right; demographics count how many people look at how
much Internet porn on any given day.
It’s a boring and stupendous statistic, but somebody’s got to count it.
Demographic-demons look at other things too. When those graphic demons swim
out, they also look at ways to stereotype people into consumer-stuffed fish
According to the cliché, It’s easier shooting. And you know
why it’s called a “cliché: It’s French for “every Greek is doing it.”
A great example of the fish barreling is radio. Unless you
listen to modern pop radio, you’re not listening to porn. Still, you are demo-gathered
and barreled. Do you listen to love songs on the radio? According to today’s
Demo-demons you’re a woman, probably 35-50, named, Mary, or a guy trying to
pull the wool over one. All the advertisements are made especially for the
first group, because everywhere that every Mary went, the second group was sure
Listen. How many ads want to lock you in the front seat of a “family” or “luxury”
car? Why isn’t anybody selling you the latest Ford Mustang? Because, if you
want to buy a Mustang, you belong to the porn station. If you’re here, SUVs are
all who enter here.
On the other hand, you don’t get strip club ads either.
Their surveys say you won’t be found in one.
Me? I don’t do porn stations or strip clubs (No, REALLY!!!),
but I am a card carrying
Demographic. Yeah, don’t tell my
dad. He would disown me. It’s true though: whenever I sign a form or anything,
I check the boxes of my party: white (non-Hispanic), Male, 35-45, Divorced, and
Unemployed. They know me: I’m
Pavlov’s dog-in-a-box. Send a pretty girl to ring my bell, and I’ll drool every
time. Yeah, the Pirate Queen takes
full advantage of this.
“I told you, baby, I don’t want to watch the Care Bears on
“Yes mistress. I’ll get my keys.”
You’d think that the “Unemployed” dog-tag would move me to persona non careabouta (Another Greek term) in the consumer lists, but no. Demo-demons
don’t care that American Express has rolled up their member carpet, and stolen away
my reward privileges. They only care about the size of my refrigerator box and
how many rooms are in it. They still see me as a consumer with opinions.
Well, I don’t know about “consumer” but I do have opinions,
and that’s why Monday is survey day. Everybody sends me surveys: shopping
groups, Internet companies, even American Express sends me a customer service
email. I’m still more than happy to share my un-edited feelings with those demo-demons.
I’m an opinionated free spirit. Other demo-demons get my
How do you feel about
kitty litter, Rob?
Let me tell ya. I find it a little rough on my paws.
How do you feel about,
I’m pro youth, no matter what continent. Oh, that’s not what
They collect my feelings, tally them, then add them to the
growing group of others collecting in my demographic. My demo is huge--I wish
other parts of me were that large! I’d be a party! My demo is a party though,
and we’ll keep you up all night long! Yeah, we cry loudly about how much we
used to have. It gets disturbing.
When I first got Divorced I felt so alone. All my friends
were married. Even my parents were married. Maybe not to each other, but they
still belonged with the in-crowd. I checked the “Divorced” box: I’m an
I lost my job. There’s another group who’s kicked me out. I
found a bunch of people from the first group out here too! The thing I’ve
learned is that every time a door is slammed in my face, God opens a window for
me to fall backwards through, but he also gives me people who catch me when I fall.
The thing is, I’m not
an outcast. I’m part of a growing demographic. I’m part of the new American
anti-economy. That’s right, we are the Pavlovian frothing, divorced, and
unemployed, ruling the streets! Mac-n-cheese, and ramen noodles for everyone!
Mustangs and SUVs? PSHAW! If they’re not bound by Bondo and rust,
they aren’t cars! We’ll have a new economy based on Facebook coins. That’s
right. My people rule Facebook too!
Facebook: Where individuality lumbers to die: we like; we
join; we follow.
And that’s the downside of demographics. No matter how you slice us, we come up
peanuts, and we’re the same as everybody else. When we’re hurting, that’s a
great thing. We’re not alone because somebody else has traveled the same road
“My wife left me for an Mime with a lisp.”
At the demo-sheep-book end, it grinds us into homogeneous
chuck. One size fits all. One all fits our consumer size. I can’t do that! I
love you all, but I’m not you.
What’s more important for you: YOU’RE NOT ME!
Yes, yes, I know that’s quite a relief. When I was a kid I read “A Wrinkle in
Time.” Do you all want to be It-Robs?
I think not! No more than I want to be It-Reader #2s.
I remember as kids playing tag, nobody wanted to be It.
Today, I read about somebody creating a viral hoax just to
shape the sheep. Why? To see if they could. Today, so many people clamor and
crawl to be the Demographic It--the one showing others how to follow.
I guess that’s why I fill my calendar with schedules and
themes, because even if I give a day to demographics, I don’t want to fill my life
with them. I’m a Scott, not a
Greek, and on Monday I fill out my surveys to skew the curve.
I have to wonder, if groups on demographics aren’t why we
find ourselves in trouble to begin with. We’re all facing problems, but shouldn’t
we face them as individuals? The only way to make it through this, is to stand
up for ourselves. I’d tell you to follow me, and think for yourself, but that
would defeat my own purpose.
Follow you, follow your heart, follow God, and care for your
fellow demographic-ians, for every demographic has enough trouble of its own. No matter how you fill your calendar, doing
this makes you a better number, and shapes the demo of our world for the