I have finally gained access to the this girl's barren apocalyptic vault. I don't have any grand plans as I return to the clickety clack like a misbegotten Brenda Starr. As I have finished up a major project - a documentary film - I am turning my attention to creative production for soul sake. I toil like many of us at indentured servitude. and I have recently gotten lost in the hipper than hip Mad Men. I have put off indulging in this sharp edged cotton candy. Every now and then the hype is the smoke of fire. For me this fire hits home as it explains to me the years of my family that are lost to me. My father was an alcoholic, NYC, ad man who disappeared and my mother ended up the lone divorcee in the burbs shunned by neighbors and alienated from her Long Island family.
The show is a scathing critique of the fabricated American culture that we have all come to know and either love or hate. The problem is that most of general public are basking in the glorification of a culture that gave us the underpinnings of, what has become controversial, American Exceptionalism.
Does our greatness lie in our ability to create consumerism in place of democracy? Does our polarization come from 70 years of commercial conformity?
The ideas of family, or rather the mold of idealized family, has a genesis and that point is Mad Men. And we still don't get it.