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David McElroy

making sense of a dysfunctional culture

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I don’t like most people in TV ads, but I can’t tell if it’s them or me

By David McElroy · December 26, 2021

Television commercials frustrate me. I don’t even own a television anymore, but I still stream football and basketball games on my MacBook, so I can’t escape all TV ads.

The culture we choose to allow around us teaches us what “normal” behavior is like in that culture. We’re rarely conscious of this, but culture shapes what children will become and it reinforces those cultural norms for adults.

Before mass media existed, we learned from the behavior of family, friends, associates and strangers around us. But once mass media arrived, that role was increasingly filled by movies, popular music, television shows — and now by social media.

Television commercials are one of the most important components of that culture. Huge companies pay smart and talented people a lot of money to manipulate us — to make us want to give them our money. They don’t necessarily intend to define what the culture is, but they do. In part, they define the culture and, in part, they also reflect what certain cultural elites force them to project.

Since I avoid most of what popular culture has become — because I believe the culture has become dangerously dysfunctional — it’s often jarring to encounter it. And I’ve been feeling that way lately when I see the “normal families” in these commercials.

When I was younger, I watched television just as much as other typical Americans. I saw enough programs — and watched enough commercials — that I wasn’t as aware back then of just how much these commercials shape our views of the society around us.

But now that I see so little of this mass medium, what I do see strikes me as artful dishonesty. Even the commercials feel like a contrived effort to reflect a reality which doesn’t exist and never will exist. Those ads feel like a balancing act by ad execs to placate “social justice warriors” while still finding a way to manipulate people into spending money.

The families in commercials rarely feel like real families to me. The still image above is from a commercial I saw today for a financial investment company. The beautifully shot scenes are supposed to reflect the good life experienced by a typical family which has let this company manage its money.

But the people feel like a collection of actors whose ethnic looks are balanced in a way to avoid looking like any particular kind of family. There’s nothing wrong with ethnically mixed families — and they do happen — but there seems to be a conscious desire to show anything but typical families.

Are they white? Asian? Hispanic? If you look at the commercial, you see different actors who are kinda, sorta everything possible in a vaguely light-skinned group of people.

And I’ve noticed an odd tendency — especially from high-end auto brands — to cast their family members with black actors and instruct them to imitate what they assume rich white suburban people must act like.

These sorts of commercials end up seeming like a parody of rich white people — played by black actors — acting in ways that I’ve never even seen from the real-life rich white folks I know. But such commercials allow the companies to say, “See? We’re diverse. We’re not just assuming the people who can afford our vehicles are white.”

I’m all in favor of companies marketing toward whoever their customers really are — rich or poor, white or black, straight or gay — but there seems to be a bizarre effort to mix and match what we see in ways that will be acceptable to political activists, not necessarily to real customers.

More and more, the families I see — and the groups of friends I see — in television commercials seem more like conscious efforts to dictate what political activists on the left want reality to be. What I see doesn’t reflect much of the reality I see in the real world. It feels jarring and it feels wrong. It feels like an attempt to shape a society through social and political pressure from unaccountable activists.

I was telling someone last week that I’m still not sure what I am, but he initially understood me to say that I don’t know who I am. To me, those are two very different things.

I’ve spent years thinking deeply about who I am. The question is actually very complicated and I suspect most people never give it serious thought. But I feel confident that I know myself to a decent degree.

What I’m still not clear about is what I am — by which I mean, what am I in relation to this culture in which I live?

What role do I play in this society? Where do I fit? How well do I integrate into what is normal in my culture? And do I want to integrate into that culture?

To use Howard Bloom’s memorable categories — from his book, “The Lucifer Principle” — it’s clear that most people in every stable culture are “conformity enforcers,” but that’s not me. I’m among the much-smaller group that Bloom terms as “diversity generators,” which he says are necessary to keep societies from stagnation. (He also points out that most diversity generators are ultimately going to fail, but the few who succeed will change everything.) But how do I specifically fill that role? That’s the part I’m still working out.

I don’t like the people I see in a lot of television commercial right now, because these characters feel dishonest to me. The roles feel forced. They don’t feel like reflections of reality as I understand it. They seem like reflections of the reality which political activists want to manipulate us into becoming.

More and more, I understand why some groups with values which are different from this dysfunctional culture try to keep their members from interacting with modern mass media. It’s not necessarily because they’re bigoted rubes who are stupid and backwards. Some of them might be, but for many of them, the issue is far more basic.

They have a vision of truth which they want their members to accept and emulate — and they’re smart enough to understand that their members will always gravitate toward emulating what’s modeled by the dysfunctional mainstream culture if exposed to this powerful medium.

Do you want to be like the mainstream culture? Do you like the values that are increasingly infiltrating from the political and social left? Is this what you want your children to believe and how you want them to behave?

If you keep allowing the mass media of this dysfunctional culture to have access to you and to your children, you’re going to be assimilated or destroyed. An individual can choose to become what the culture dictates — or he or she can consciously choose different values instead.

I’m not comfortable with the values and the direction of this dysfunctional culture. I’m still trying to figure out precisely how to effectively oppose that dysfunction and how to promote a healthier alternative. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what I am in relation to the powerful forces that are pushing us off a cliff.

But I’m absolutely certain that if you continue to pollute your mind with the mass media of this culture, you will be assimilated by an evil which you won’t even recognize until it’s too late.

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Future Photo Display

As part of my effort to rid my life of social media, I will no longer display links to my two Instagram accounts here. Those accounts will be dormant for the time being and will eventually be deleted. I plan to have a method for displaying photos here instead, but the solutions I’ve tested so far have been disappointing. I’m still working on it.

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Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 27, 2026 Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 27, 2026
Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 19, 2026 Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 19, 2026
When I got home at midnight Monday, I was doing so When I got home at midnight Monday, I was doing some work in the studio and Oliver wanted to join me, so I showed him around to acclimate him to the place again. He rarely goes in there, but I have pictures of him in that studio on the night I brought him home as a kitten. 😺
Earlier this week, I found two photos of Lucy and Earlier this week, I found two photos of Lucy and me that I had never seen. I loved finding the pictures, but seeing these photos left me thinking about the effect it has on us when we lose an animal we love — and it was also a reminder of how much my life has changed for the last nine months it’s been since I lost her. I wrote an essay about this. You can find it as the most recent post at davidmcelroy.org right now if you’re interested. I really do miss this sweet girl.
When I take lightning pictures, I’m always hoping When I take lightning pictures, I’m always hoping to get just one usable photo, but I got two dramatic images tonight. You might recognize the water tower and communication tower that you’ve seen in many of my sunset photos. This is about a mile from my house in Leeds, which is just east of Birmingham.
For those who are in places where it’s miserably h For those who are in places where it’s miserably hot today, here is a minute of light rain and gentle thunder from my back yard late Saturday afternoon. It’s very relaxing to stand at my back door and watch this, especially since the heat is pretty mild today — 80 degrees (about 26 celsius) — for July in the American South.
Alex was willing to cooperate with me for a new po Alex was willing to cooperate with me for a new portrait late Wednesday night. It’s been roughly three and a half years now since the cold night when I was able to lure him out from behind a garbage dumpster into a trap — but I don’t think he’s sorry at this point that he fell for the trick. 😺
This is the face of a man who’s thrilled that the This is the face of a man who’s thrilled that the weekend is finally here. It was a very long (and productive) week, but the time has finally come that I have time to write and read and think. Late Friday night, I’m at the McDonald’s near my house with a Diet Dr Pepper and a MacBook. For me, it’s like Cheers without the booze.
Donald Trump has figured out who to blame for the Donald Trump has figured out who to blame for the the D.C. Reflecting Pool turning green. The dastardly deed was carried out by a specially trained squad of Antifa cats trained by the Far Left. It’s not his fault. Arrest all the cats! #satire #parody
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We’ve had thunder and lightning this evening — to We’ve had thunder and lightning this evening — to go with the rain you can see — and Meg isn’t sure what she thinks about all that. She’s already nervous in the office with all three of the other cats, so the thunder was a bit much for her.
I came home a bit after 10 p.m. Friday to find Meg I came home a bit after 10 p.m. Friday to find Meg sound asleep, but she laid in my arms and purred as she tried to wake up. I’ve been able to leave her in the same rooms as the rest of the cats for several days now and there are no problems. They still avoid one another — and there can be some mild hissing if one of the boys gets too close — but they’re getting closer and closer to accepting her as one of their social group.
I think Meg is quite comfortable living inside the I think Meg is quite comfortable living inside the house already. A few minutes ago, she was just posing nicely on the bed, but shortly after that, she was stretched out to be far longer than I thought she could be. 😺
Late Wednesday night, Meg is the only one of the c Late Wednesday night, Meg is the only one of the cats still hanging out with me in the bedroom while I’m writing.
When I got home late Wednesday night, I went to a When I got home late Wednesday night, I went to a side window to see how the cats would react to me showing up there unexpectedly. Alex got out of the bed on my desk and posed on the corner of the desk. Sam jumped into the window and meowed at me. This is an example of a picture that wouldn’t have been possible a few years ago, because the contrast was awful and it was far too hazy since it was taken through the window. But current tools that would have amazed me a few years ago allow me to save such images now. And that’s pretty satisfying.
From the CritterCam: I’m still at work on the othe From the CritterCam: I’m still at work on the other side of town, but Alex seems quite relaxed back home as he rests in the cat bed on my desk.
Meg just woke me up at 3:45 a.m. to let me know th Meg just woke me up at 3:45 a.m. to let me know that it’s time to play. She’s a very determined little girl. She’s purring up a storm. She was rubbing her face all over my hair and walking on top of me until I woke up to give her the attention she demanded.
Late Tuesday afternoon, Meg visited the hanging ba Late Tuesday afternoon, Meg visited the hanging basket of the castle for the very first time. She’s not sure what she thinks. It was only a week ago when she went to the vet and then joined us, but it already seems as though she’s been here forever. She and the other cats are still avoiding each other — and there will be some minor hissing at times ‚ but they can spend lots of time in the same room for a long time without issues. So her integration into the family is right on schedule.
Late Monday night, Meg has been lying on the bed a Late Monday night, Meg has been lying on the bed and Oliver is at the foot of the bed spying on her. He’s just watching instead of trying to come closer — and she’s watching him in return. They’re just watching, not hissing, right now.
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Meet my new girlfriend. Her name is Meg. And she’s my little sweetheart. A couple of months ago, a neighbor across the street told me about a new stray in the neighborhood that she and I were both soon feeding. The cat had been very skittish about contact and she had a lot of scabs and parasites in her fur, but a trip to the vet last week revealed that she was otherwise in good health. The vet estimates her to be 1 to 2 years old. I named her for Meg Murry, the 13-year-old protagonist of Madeleine L’Engle’s wonderful book, “A Wrinkle in Time.” (Please read the book. Don’t watch the horrible movie.) Since we lost Lucy almost a year ago, it seems appropriate that we finally have a new little girl to join the household. She’s already captured my heart, but Alex, Oliver and Sam aren’t there quite yet.

There’s nothing socially acceptable that’s as dangerous as drinking alcohol. Most people grow up being told to “drink responsibly” — and all of us see people abusing this drug in one way or another — but the truth is that drinking alcohol is always a terrible risk. The alcohol in these drinks is toxic and the human liver has to work hard to filter the toxins out. What most people don’t realize is that alcohol is classified as a known carcinogen by the World Health Organization — because of the well-established connection between imbibing and various cancers. Many people have taken refuge behind the idea that light or moderate drinking might be safe, but a new study shows that drinking even one drink a day increases the risks of 10 types of cancer. When I was a teen-ager, I looked around and saw the negative effects that this behavior had on a lot of people and decided not to start drinking, so I’ve never even tried this poison. The evidence keeps piling up that I was lucky to have come to that conclusion early.

It hasn’t happened yet, but there’s a possibility that I might be taking in a fourth feline. A couple of months ago, a cat-loving neighbor asked whether I’d seen a “tuxedo cat” hanging out in the neighborhood. I hadn’t, but this guy eventually wandered past my house a few weeks later — and we haven’t been able to find evidence that he has a home. I’ve been giving him water and food for the last week and he finally let me pet him two nights ago. He’s purred for me two nights in a row and he let me take a low-quality selfie with him Thursday night. Tonight, though, he let me pick him up and bring him inside to look around. This went surprisingly well, as you can see from this photo. I don’t know whether he’ll be joining the family, but I’m certain that Alex, Oliver and Sam would vote no, at least until they get to know him. I’m trying to make certain he doesn’t have a home, but if he does join us, what do you suppose his name will be?

It turns out that the radical far left has been training “Antifa cats” to sabotage anything important to Donald Trump. Everything he did was perfect. Honest. It was all the cats’ fault. Arrest all the cats! This is the latest of my ridiculous satirical shorts. Please go watch it. Then “like” it and subscribe. Please. I’m begging you. (Too much?) Although a couple of the previous videos have had views in the hundreds, most have still been seen by fewer than 20 people. So I seem to be having trouble letting people know that page exists.

Here’s the latest of my ridiculous parody shorts. It crossed my mind Tuesday to wonder what a slick and fast-talking car dealer might do right now to try to turn the high price of gasoline to his advantage. So I conceived of a fat and lovable character who tried to sell cars that don’t use any fuel — and then I started wondering if it would be funnier if all the characters were felines. Designing the King Cashpaw character took about four hours, but the rest took only another four hours, so this was a relatively quick piece that virtually wrote itself. I know it’s almost impossible for these parody videos to find a larger audience, but at least they amuse me — and there are 19 of them on my YouTube page now. The first few were very limited, but they’re getting more complex.

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