Today, I read that Nordstrom is offering an $85 rock in a leather pouch.
“A paperweight? A conversation piece? A work of art? It’s up to you, but this smooth Los Angeles-area stone — wrapped in rich, vegetable-tanned American leather secured by sturdy contrast whipstitching — is sure to draw attention wherever it rests. A traditional hardening process gives the leather a beautiful ombré effect. Like all Made Solid pieces, this one is cut, shaped, sewn and finished by hand in artist Peter Maxwell’s Los Angeles studio. Using vintage leatherworking tools and traditional saddle-stitching techniques, Maxwell aims to create beautiful designs that embody both simplicity and functionality, and that develop rich character and patina over time.”
Jesus, I love copywriters. Whenever I think of how bad I had it as a reporter, the turds I had to polish, the pride I had to swallow and the truly awful things I had to witness, I look at copywriters and feel so much better. Sure, I covered a trial where ALL of a small-town police chief’s kids testified in detail about him molesting them, but shit. I never had to write THAT about a goddamn rock. The trial gave me nightmares, but having to churn out that copy would have sent my soul into a dark abyss from which there can be no return.
And no, them getting paid more than I ever did has nothing to do with this. They can keep the money. They need it for the Tony Montana sized pile of blow it takes to put something like that description together and not shove a gun in their mouth in the process.
Let me do you, as well as my beleaguered marketing comrades of the pen, a big favor and translate that into plain, fucking simple English.
“What the fuck is this thing? It’s a rock, dumbass. It’s a rock from Los Angeles wrapped in the skin of a dead animal. Like all rocks, it’s hard, because it’s a fucking rock. In fact, to hell with the rock. This is about an expensive, yet useless, stitched piece of leather marketed towards moronic dilettantes with a lot of disposable income — like you. Don’t argue. Just hand over the money. It’s either going to be for this or some other dipshit offering from our catalog and you fucking know it! JESUS, I GOT AN MFA IN CREATIVE WRITING! THEY SAID I WOULD BE AN AUTHOR! WHAT HAVE I DONE WITH MY LIFE? *drink* *cry*”
You know, this is probably one big marketing ploy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. You just know they’ve already sold more than a few dead-animal covered rocks. Right now, at this very moment, there’s some overpaid hipster looking contentedly at their dead-animal covered rock whilst sipping their homemade mead. “Yes,” they think, “this is sure to fascinate my mead-brewing club. A Peter Maxwell original, no less! You can tell it’s by the leathersmith I never heard of until I went online from the stains on the carcass.”
I feel like I’m missing out — missing out on money, specifically. If 2016 has taught me anything, it’s that some people will buy some truly stupid shit simply because they can. Look at our next president. He’s fucking worthless and stupid people bought his bullshit wholesale. If Donald “The Citrus Führer” Trump can get the nuclear codes off these people, surely I can get a few bucks, right?
So, here are some products I can absolutely deliver. Take heed Nordstrom.
Wood Collection from the LaSal Mountains.
“Hand-harvested and carefully selected from remote mountain copses, this playful arrangement of boscage is sure to provoke conversation at your holiday gathering.”
Locally-Sourced Lawn and Garden Enhancer
“Extracted from the noble Canis lupus familiaris, this odiferous compound is sure to make your lawn greener and your vegetables bigger. All shipments are guaranteed to be organic. Some drying may occur in transit.”
Price — $250
Dihydrogen Monoxide Supplements
“Generally accepted to be beneficial to healthy living, this special compound comes in its own carrying case for easy application. It can also be used for any number of sanitary purposes.”
Price — $500
“You can feel it now, can’t you? The icy hand of society clutching at your heart? Expectations will weigh you down, but without them, what are you? What is all this for? Who are you, really?”
Price — $420
“Plahust, qjugcv bisudfbvg bfouhvn. Ysfingkly jahsdstik? Hsyseofuivn hofvgon spdfiyfs odfuc bs oduivfbdsd. Jcvlhyi, cfeufywbsdruib, vgi sgbvgf!”
Price — $185
“Absolutely nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Not a goddamn thing. Why should you care? You just bought an $85 rock.”
Price — $2,500