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Coke Zero

It's amazing how much of our culture is driven toward how we look. I mean, almost all advertisments have to do with self image. When it comes down to is, all companies say the same thing. "Wear this, Drink that, Buy this if you want to look good or be cool." (if your are cool then you look good). At first glance it seems to be in good light, i mean every company want to sell their product to make a profit, but it is the flip side, the downside to this type of self image focusing advertisements which cause problems in much of the youths or within the general publics self image of themselves. People are, either subconsiously or consiouly effected by these advertisments, and these advertisements are everywhere we look.
I chose an image from a recent Coke campaign, thier new prduct is called "Coke Zero". It has no calories, no sugar, yet it somehow miraculously tastes like Coke. What on earth is in this stuff? The fact that people are willing to drink this show just how much advertisments, media and culture effect the veiw of ourselfs, unfortunately in a negative way. People are obviously striving for this nearly impossible image of the perfect body and Coke is cashing in on their insecurities. I just hope that people open their eyes and see beyond this ever present pressure by companies to be perfect, or to buy thier products to be cool. In the end it's merely a marketing plot, and they're making a whole lot of money off of it.

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS

by: T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)

HE broad-backed hippopotamus
Rests on his belly in the mud;
Although he seems so firm to us
He is merely flesh and blood.

Flesh-and-blood is weak and frail,
Susceptible to nervous shock;
While the True Church can never fail
For it is based upon a rock.

The hippo's feeble steps may err
In compassing material ends,
While the True Church need never stir
To gather in its dividends.

The 'potamus can never reach
The mango on the mango-tree;
But fruits of pomegranate and peach
Refresh the Church from over sea.

At mating time the hippo's voice
Betrays inflexions hoarse and odd,
But every week we hear rejoice
The Church, at being one with God.

The hippopotamus's day
Is passed in sleep; at night he hunts;
God works in a mysterious way--
The Church can sleep and feed at once.

I saw the 'potamus take wing
Ascending from the damp savannas,
And quiring angels round him sing
The praise of God, in loud hosannas.

Blood of the Lamb shall wash him clean
And him shall heavenly arms enfold,
Among the saints he shall be seen
Performing on a harp of gold.

He shall be washed as white as snow,
By all the martyr'd virgins kist,
While the True Church remains below
Wrapt in the old miasmal mist.