Round fields long strange to hand of toil “Does Lei like dragonflies?” came Ah Bak’s tinny voice, their haematite beak unmoving. Zhao clenched his teeth and dragged his eyes over the white naked sun to blot out the image. A memory forced its way to the surface, fingers ruined by fire, the rest of the hand lost. His stomach tightened, a light prelude to much greater agony. Almost imperceptibly small, it cut its trail across perfect blue. Zhao stared at the scene, taking in the collage of colours and contours when he noticed something in the sky. In the distance, the Pearl River curled east, having conferred upon the lake a small fraction of its life on its thousand-mile journey from the west.
“Dragonflies do not breed in stagnant water.” “That is good,” echoed Ah Bak in their tinny voice. Other winged jewels joined the flurry, some green as spring, others red as blood, wings iridescent. Soundless, they zipped and wheeled to the quiet rhythm of filtration pumps. Quick sapphires danced over sun-silvered water. The truth is, nobody gives a shit about brands right now.” (Continue Reading…) “The really bad part is this.” Corazon swept her hand along the line labeled Brand Perception, which had plummeted like a stone in the aftermath of the election.
Gregoria, a junior art director, began to nervously shred the paper cup her morning latte had come in. Everybody in that over-air-conditioned room knew exactly what she meant, though, because they were all living on the same rapidly sinking ocean liner. That was the euphemism to end all euphemisms. “Year on year sales are down, but we’ve been expecting that due to the current… economic climate.” She turned to face the projected line graph behind her. When she spoke, she was a breath apologetic, but not too much: “As you can see, we have our work cut out for us.” She tipped her head to the side, disarming but not too flirty. She pulled her shoulders back, like her grandmother had instructed. She focused on the smudgy mirror at the far end of the conference room, looking past her team to her own reflection. The Revolution, Brought to You by Nike By Andrea PhillipsĬorazon clicked to the slide she’d been dreading: long-term trends for brand engagement.
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Beyoncé, treason, Nike, the Justice Department, hope, plus something small that people could do to feel useful? The clickbait farms didn’t even have to work at the story. They had enough of those celebrity videos to release a new one every day for the duration of the campaign. They also front-loaded the Beyoncé video, a beautiful declaration of strength and defiance. In one of them, a gay couple hugged on camera, and the shorter one said “I’m making a world where love is love is love.” In another, a child in a wheelchair looked at the camera with determination and said, “I don’t want to die.” They seeded a few aspirational pieces of video right away, to model the kinds of things they were expecting from legitimate users. The first part of Corazon’s campaign was the manifesto. Another day, another straw that was somehow never the last one.
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Launch day came on a bright Tuesday, amid a flurry of reports that the executive office had pushed through a series of contracts requiring the president’s own hotel properties be the preferred vendor for all federal travel going forward. The Revolution, Brought to You by Nike by Andrea Phillips
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