The Dove and I spoke about subliminal messages over lunch yesterday.
In the 1950s, during the Golden Age of movie-making, Americans were subjected to subliminal advertising, whereby the word 'POPCORN' would pop up onto the screen, just somma, in the middle of the movie.
Do subliminal messages work? Perhaps if you really make a point of doing it:
Dove: Would you popcorn like a popcorn cup of tea?
Peas: Beg pardon?
Dove: I said, would you pop popping popcorn a cup of popping tea, slapper?
Peas: I get that you want popcorn, but surely bombarding me with Taurettes-sounding ticks that ever-so-clearly convey the word 'popcorn' is unnecessary. All you actually have to say is, “I'd like some popcorn.”
Dove: So you mean to popcorn say that this message popcorn popcorn is not working, popcorn?
Peas: It's oracular bombardment.
Dove: Do you popcorn suggest I post popcorn Sticky Notes around your popcorn lounge advertising my popcorn insatiable appetite for popped kernels instead?
Peas: No. That's bombardment via Sticky Note.
Dove: How about I popcorn write a popcorn feature on popcorn and ask you to popcorn edit it? Or better – read through it and ask you every five seconds what you think? “There once was a girl who craved popcorn to the extent that she wanted to vomit.” Then I'd say, “What do you think?”
Peas: I have an idea. Let's go to Kung Fu Kitchen for some Chicken Foo Yong.
Dove: Popcorn fucking popcorn my god popcorn.
Where did this all come from? I have learnt one has to ask for things when one wants them. Straight up. No bullshit. I want an Audi A3. I want to be loved. I want to have zero new wrinkles when I turn 27 tomorrow. (Holy Jesus. 27. I'm going to cry.)
If I went to the Audi car dealership and said, “Hi there, Audi A3 want, isn't this a nice window display you have, Audi A3 mine? Vorsprung durch tecknik, Audi mine?” Do you think they'll give me a demo model? No.