Seriously. What the hell is this? I mean, come on. What, was it a slow day around the creativity hub? This poor kid Trayvon’s dead and this is his legacy?! What does this connote, he died for Skittles? He can’t speak for the Skittles contingent. Again, seriously, what the hell does this mean? I’m not leaving this paragraph until I get an answer. I’m fairly adept at semiotics and interpreting such. But this, this has me stumped.
The confused messaging is not rare. It’s the same thing that happened during occupy Wall Street. Kids who just dig the whole protest bit rallied around and played bongos and spouted mindless phrases and shibboleths about corporate greed. Or something. It’s what they believed was protest. And it made them feel a part of something. Connected. Their symbolic speech may have been disconnected, but there was a sincere effort to spout anger, anger at something. Anger at an amorphous thing and object.
And on a lighter note. Perhaps. Did you catch Christie Brinkley on the Today Show with the Torquemada of schmaltz, Matt Lauer? Here’s my, er, take.