As unemployment ravages the working class, our lower and higher education systems shudder in crisis, and murder decimates our forgotten urban poverty zones, Nike is rolling out its first $300+ sneaker. But mom, you don't understand—it's worth it.

This is America. This ain't Saskatoon or Piscataway or Buddhistan or some other foreign speck of dust. This is America. We have an army. A god damn capital-A Army. A big badass American army with big ol' guns. And that army needs soldiers. Lots of soldiers. Lots of big god damn badass American soldiers to carry some big guns and show the freaks and the geek's what's what. There's Jesus in Heaven and there's god above and he gave man dominion over all things and guess what, that man is called The You Ess God Damn Army. Now you tell me, son: where exactly do you think we should find a bunch of god damn red-blooded boys ready to kill for god and country? Should we, should we, should we look up under the couch cushions? Should we look up under the floormat? Hey, I think I left m' god damn US Army recruits on my nightstand table! Should we look there? Hot shot? Oh, you probably think we should look up in the god damn fabric store, eh? How bout we look for one million future globe-dominating soldiers up in the La-mozz class? Is that it? Maybe we should go on down to the, to the Yankee Candle store down at the outlet mall and ask if they have any assistant managers lookin' for a little excitement? Maybe that's where we'll find the future Navy SEALS of America? Maybe a bunch of posey-picking little girls will beat up the next Sad-dam? Is that it? Or do you think maybe, maybe, maybe we should, lemme just propose this to ya, maybe we should take a look down at the ol' Nascar track? You think? Ya think that one might be a better idea, smart guy? Maybe we should go have a look at the ol' football stadium? For some strong young fellas? Would that be alright with you, pinky? Maybe we can find a few strong young boys who know a little something about kickin' butt down at the drag-racing spot, eh? That alright with you, Albert Einstein? Thank you so much. So if it ain't too much trouble and all, we're just gonna keep on spendin' our $80 million a year sponsorin' some stock cars and football games under the name of the God Damn Army of the United States of America, thank you very much. So stop your god damn bellyaching about it. There's still a few good men left in Congress, thank god.

Remember how BP's relentless pursuit of profits at the expense of safety caused the Gulf of Mexico to be flooded with oil a little while ago? No. I don't remember that. Do you? Hmm. What I do remember is BP's absolutely awesome Olympic spirit!

Used to be folks wouldn't dream of going to the theater without long white gloves, traveling on an aeroplane in short pants, or robbing a bank in anything but their finest haute couture ball gown.

Yasiin Bey, Muhammad Ali, artful calligraphy, gorgeous cinematography. Add them all together and what do you get? Just another fucking Louis Vuitton ad.

The public relations industry is dogged in its pursuit of money, a doggone shame, a hired gun without a dog in the fight, the crisis management version of hair of the dog. This is PR Dummies: watching corporate America rim dogs, once a week.

Sure, the thousands of truly creative people who, through vicious twists of fate and circumstance, find themselves working at ad agencies, where their creative impulses are channeled into Skittles and Old Spice and H&R Block and other equally vacuous enterprises, are suffering an awful and soul-deadening fate. But couldn't it be more soul-deadening? How about if we made them do this stuff all night?

Action hero Kiefer Sutherland pines his high school crush Susan Glenn in a brooding Wes Anderson-esque spot for Axe Body Spray.

Corporate America knows that the key characteristic of you, the consumer, is this: you are a liar. You lie to your wife. You lie to your boss. And, worst of all, you lie to corporate America survey-takers whose job it is to determine what you like so that corporate America can sell that thing to you. What do you really like? Corporate America will track your eyeballs in order to find out.

Is there any huge corporation too evil to engage in the production and marketing of yogurt, America's new crack cocaine? It appears that the answer is "no," as PepsiCo is now joining the yogurt fray, already occupied by a rogue's gallery of multinational players, Greek and otherwise. How much disinformation and propaganda must the "mainstream media" disseminate before the yogurt wars come to an end?

The battle for the heart and soul of America's yogurt preferences is a marketer's version of brutal and ceaseless trench warfare, as you, the consumer, are bombarded by wave after wave of new yogurt product from a mind-blowing variety of yogurt factions, all hoping to deluge your taste buds with just the right yogurt flavor to make you a yogurt addict of their own particular yogurt variety. Are you ready, America—for more yogurt?

There are few things more delightful than waking up on an average Monday morning here in Post-Racial America to the following real headline from a column in Ad Age: "Hats Off to the Soft-Drink Industry for Giving Attention to Hispanics and Blacks." Hats off to you, marketers of nutrition-free sugar water! You are trying to sell your product to minorities. You are all the real heroes.

Why do celebrities publicly endorse certain consumer products? Usually, it's because some company gives them a staggering amount of money to do so. But not Jay-Z—he does it because he really believes in the Duracell Powermat battery-charging device:

I don't know about you, but when I think "People who made the wrong career choice," I think "Albert Einstein." Talk about wasting your smarts! Instead of writing papers on math things that the average consumer doesn't even understand, he could have been writing slogans, for Kit Kats™. Missed opportunities.

TV networks are pissed about a new DVR that can automatically skip over all ads in recorded content, no fast-forwarding necessary. Ha, fuck them, right? Fuck TV ads, right? Okay, well. I hope you love product placement and want to marry it.

The real creative fireworks at Creative Week came at the end of this morning's "Creative Renegades" panel when Colleen Decourcy, a creative, said that she didn't really love creatives.

What do you think when you hear the word "Pepsi?" Chances are you think, "I guess if you're outta Coke, yeah that's fine. Do you have Diet Coke? No? Mr. Pibb? No? Forget it. Pepsi's fine." But what The Pepsi Corporation would prefer you to think is, "A kind of brown swill with amazing marketing!"

"Artisan." Remember the word "artisan?" Perfectly valid word. Described an actual type of thing. Until the ad world got ahold of it, put it on the street, and pimped it out until every last chemical food concoction assembled by robots out of petroleum byproducts was marketed as "artisan." Totally killed the word. "Bespoke?" You're next.

People with half a god damn brain in their heads not drugged to a stupor by that evil emotion "hope" have long understood that "anti-wrinkle creams" are bullshit. That, of course, has not stopped Americans from buying them by the truckload. We are a fundamentally dumb people. We must be protected from ourselves.

For millennia, media that comes on screens has operated on a very simple premise: they show you entertaining things like Three's Company for free, and in return, you sit there and watch the ads. Very simple. And guess who is now fucking up this wondrous model of passive infotainment? That's right: kids these days.