I like some posters. Not all, but some. So an encore appearance
by the Imaginus poster sale is OK, but not. It reminds me
of a pretentious art gallery, only without the pretension and
without original art. Come to think of it, the only thing
that even makes it a gallery are the gawking students who think
what they’re looking at is even remotely tasteful.
Allow me to explain.
Poor Che Guevara. After dying for communist and socialist causes,
his ubiquitous mug has been co-opted by dark, capitalist forces
and plastered on anything that idealistic youth will pay for.
Admiring his revolutionary gaze is the “cool” way
to rebel while still wearing American Eagle clothing. Call
it socialist hypocrisy if you want; I call it stupid stupidity.
The movie posters give me pause: so I pay money to watch a
movie then pay some more for a poster that will remind me how
much I enjoyed paying the money in the first place. Wrong medium,
morons. I’d rather put my $10 towards down payment on
the DVD version. That way I can enjoy the movie over and over,
as opposed to cluttering my wall with promotional garbage that
I could just as easily have yoinked from the movie theatres.
In the same thread are those who purchase the old tyme “Reefer
Madness” posters or the ones with Bob Marley smoking
a fat one. What better way to celebrate marijuana culture than
hamming it up with the Weed King himself? I’ll tell you
how. Save your cash for a massive spliff instead and trip out
to “Jammin’” while trying to decide where
to order food. That’s money better spent.
Then there are those like me who buy Salvador Dali posters
for their “whoa factor.” Any artist who can combine
six floating Lenin heads, a grand piano, some cherries and
make it all meaningful is deserving of my cash. Even though
I don’t profess to understand what Dali is trying to
convey (probably something about Jesus and friends), I will
always admire his elephants for their long, trippy legs.
“Reach for the stars and you can achieve anything,” says
the typical, barf-worthy inspirational quote poster. It’s
usually backgrounded by some boring and tranquil setting that
has nothing to do with the actual quote. People who buy these
are the types who rate the “Little Engine That Could” as
the best book of all time. I laugh in your face if you let
a quote poster shape your life.
But as I much as I detest the majority of the Imaginus posters,
I save my cruelest criticism for the baby posters. Three
naked babies stuffed in a wagon is not normal. Dressing them
up in ill-fitting football uniforms is cruel and distasteful.
clear the creator of such horrors, Anne Geddes — or Lucifer
as I like to call her — is practicing babyploitation.
If I had it my way, babies would only be used for their intended
purpose: crafters of cheap and stylish wallets.