crushing tenderness

Crushing Tenderness

People all over the country are writing jingles on why America is great again for the Dupont contest. Win an air-conditioned coffin or two tons of crushed ice. Both come with a well-proportioned naked woman. Or man. You don’t have to choose a man if you’re a woman or a woman if you’re a man, no one will question your preference. Just write the jingle and mail it off. Sorry, no email submissions. This is an old-fashioned jingle-writing contest — six lines, 46 syllables, assonance and end rhyme. Or doesn’t. No one’s trying to tell you how to think. This is Dupont, reaching out to the common man.

If Howard Zinn were alive he’d tell you don’t do it. He’d say it’s Dupont’s sneaky way of determining how many people still know how to address an envelope; how many people know what a stamp is. These people are retrograde and once we pinpoint their demographic, measures can be taken to deal with them.

But Dupont could be making a big mistake. People who write jingles are old-fashioned and sexually chaste. What are they going to do with a naked body? How will they explain it to their loved ones who are counting on them to show the way?

Wait a minute! I could be wrong. Maybe the real point of the jingle-writing contest is to destabilize what’s left of the family unit. People giving each other emotional support and unconditional love, that’s the real drag on the chemical industry and the banking and credit-card industry and the Fear Machine in general. Drop a hot sexy body packed in ice in the middle of that and watch the whole thing come unravelled.

You gotta hand it to them. They just keep coming. And they won’t stop until they’ve crushed the last morsel of tenderness.

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