Fortunately for us, this is not one of our weeks. Unfortunately for Councilman David Yassky, he provided us with a proposal that is almost the Platonic Ideal of what we like to write about. So without further ado, we’ll tell you about the councilman’s scheme.
As we all know, the City of New York is in complete financial meltdown. Our economy is like Chernobyl, except when the banks implode, there won’t be any green stuff flying out into the streets. And the expected loss of property and sales tax has everybody hustling to find some fiscal relief for our spend-crazy government. Some have suggested selling bridges, raising and lowering taxes, and even melting down our beloved manhole covers for their precious platinum cores, but Councilman Yassky has come up with a solution that we find utterly trashy.
Yassky has proposed that, in order to save money on public trash-can creation, maintenance, and even pick-up, that our beloved green cylinders be sold to the highest bidder and emblazoned with bikini-girls selling fried chicken sandwiches, dish detergents, and Bruce Willis movies.
That’s right, folks. Waste receptacle advertising.
The idea does have that ironic “screw you”: by letting companies pay for the privilege of associating their likely cruddy products with a literal bucket of crud, but we think that the sinister cynicism of the idea far outweighs any deep-seeded anti-establishment subtext.
By suggesting this, Yassky shows where his sympathies lie, and it is not with the welfare of the public. His heart may be in the right place, because after all, he’s just trying to save us taxpayers a few dollars down the line, but these savings, like buying Tang instead of oranges, will wreak untold havoc on our bodies and minds at a time when the only thing we need is relief from the overwhelming artificial stimuli that we have introduced into our environment.
We ask you, David Yassky, aren’t there enough advertisements in our lives already? Whether we commute by bus, train or automobile, our mornings and evenings are swollen with slick product pitches designed explicitly to deceive us. New Yorkers are honest people wanting nothing more than to stay productive and be happy, yet we have to be exposed to advertisements for pubic dye on our train rides to work.
We have to refuse calls from political action committees and telemarketers in our own homes. People pay to advertise bands or sporting companies as a fashion statement. Even your favorite weekly community newspaper is packed to the gills with ads shilling surplus cornhusks, striped bendy straws, and old refrigerators.
(Editor’s note: The statements made in Pol Position do not reflect the opinions of our publisher or staff. In truth, we love all of our advertisers as if they were our own children. Probably more than our own children.)
After he sells off all of the city’s garbage cans, we have a short list of suggestions for public places that still do not have corporate sponsors. If Councilman Yassky is lucky, he still might find buyers for these hot advertising locations in and around New York City.
We’ve noticed that there is a renovation-related wrapping around the 59th St Bridge, and a resourceful candy marketer could easily make that iconic landmark look exactly like an Snickers bar.
We would also like to suggest corporate sponsorship of street names. Many members of our staff actually live in Councilman Yassky’s district, and are looking forward to having our mother’s write to us at 536 Tampax Avenue and telling our friends that we live at the corner of Enron Boulevard, just past West Mission Impossible 4 Street.
But if we truly want to be good, patriotic New Yorkers and help our beloved city find it’s way out of its crisis, we should be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. A number of corporations have adopted a new initiative that will pay cities to tattoo slogans and logos on their faces, so that when tourists visit our city, a quick glance into the crowd will remind them of the great, fresh taste of Listerine.
It’s a small sacrifice to make for financial stability, and we at Pol Position just adore Listerine, for that swishable, kissable, can’t-missable smile. We think that all of our readers should go to their corner store and buys some Listerine right now, to wash that garbage-taste right out of their mouths.