Things I Paid for at Gunpoint Today (vol 3): A Whole Lotta Booze Advertising

Lining the Toronto subway system, street-level billboards, and every other visible inch of ad space, is a bold, widely-marketed assertion from our extremely necessary state-run Ministry of Booze, (more formally called the Liquor Control Board of Ontario or LCBO) that I am in fact, a member of 'The New Whisky Generation.' Or in their words, "You're In... The New Whisky Generation."

Curious.

I was not aware of my membership in any such association, but the many hundreds of thousands of jumbotron-sized ads placed in high-visibility hyper-expensive advertising spaces seem most persistent on the matter. And seeing as my complete awareness of this situation has been deemed substantially more important than my ability to buy groceries, I'm guessing my membership in this prestigious fraternity is of no small import! Though membership benefits are vague at present, I maintain confidence that their bounty will materialize shortly. (For the gift of being made freshly aware of whisky's existence is simply too wondrous to quantify in material terms)

I what? I am? Do I have to be? I'd rather be a Mason. Or in the 'Ten bucks richer because I'm not shelling out for the LCBO's 'jillion taxpayer dollars a year on booze awareness' generation.'

The ingenious advertising campaign is comprised of semi-attractive yuppies pulled out of an upstart graphic design firm, bedecked in ski hats, scarves, and paisely shirts and captured in slick black and white photography while wearing carefully austere 'wise beyond our years' expressions. Conceivably for the purposes of appealing to the 24-30something crowd. Problem is, the 24-30somethings are off at a sports bar guzzling Canadian beer made of February sidewalk-slush runoff, and most certainly not discussing the smokey aftertaste of a twelve-year-old scotch in between Antonioni screenings and rounds of backgammon. I'm hence cursed with a most nagging sensation that such ostentatious marketing is not only a morally dubious use of the public coffer, but perhaps wasted on the intended audience of Adam Sandler fans.

Though I admit, my naivete may show as I wrestle to understand the wisdom of such an appropriation of public funds. After all, are there any priveleges the free citizen enjoys quite so vigorously, as that of having his income taken to make him aware of liquor? Surely he looks at mortgage payments, clothing for his children, and well-salted pork as the trifles they are when placed alongside such a boon to the public welfare! After all, he knows that wealth taken from the citizen is a sacred trust; taken only for the direst needs of the people. And with that in heart, the implications of the cultural crisis bearing down on us in the absence of whiskey awareness become so crystal clear and monstrous to behold, that only the most obtuse or heartless among his fellows would dare object.

We will no doubt alert you of said implications shortly.

What I would've preferred to have for my money:

-dining room chair upholstery
-blindfolded colonoscopy
-argument with Jake LaMotta

-Nick



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