to be hospitable, generous, and tolerant;nit is quite another to abandon one’snstrongest convictions for the sake of annurbane and cosmopolitan eclecticism.n—Harold O.J. BrownnFROM A BLACK background anneerie, white sphere illuminates threenice cubes in a glass of clear liquid. Atnfirst, there is nothing special about thenpallid image, except maybe the lack ofncolor. But look again. Below the glassnthe bold white letters read “AB­nSOLUT SUBLIMINAL.” Somethingntugs at your memory. The wordn”Subliminal” triggers your reaction,nunlocking a latent urge inside you. Thenice cubes, of course. They want me tonlook into the ice cubes. There, barelynvisible, lurks the ghostly prize, yournPavlovian reward, the words “AB­nSOLUT VODKA.”nThe ad, which made its debut on thenback cover of the Atlantic Monthly lastnyear, would seem to give itself away.nBut in so doing it willfully resurrects anfavorite child of American folklore: thensubliminal advertisement.nIn large part, our preoccupationnwith the rival claims of cigarette andncornflake ads, and our self-consciousnfears of dandruff, body odor, hairy legs,nand baldness do not tell the whole storynof advertising. From the carny barker tonthe billboard, practically anything goesnwhen it comes to getting our attention.nIf bright colors and sexual come-onsnare not enough, even the most suspiciousnand skeptical consumer cannotnresist a subliminal suggestion hidden innan ad. The idea behind subliminalnadvertisements was simple. We werennever supposed to be aware of them.nWhether or not we were ever annation of zombies, cryptically manipulatednby Madison Avenue, is open tondebate. What we are is a culture of ads.nAmerica’s churning myth-factorynmakes or breaks our common parlance.nThe most effective advertising campaignsnare ultimately the ones we talknabout. The key to selling a product is,noften making it a conversation piece,nespecially among kids, and what betternway than to throw the savvy consumerna spitball, an ad campaign just trickynenough to pique our interest, to makenthe product a household word. If nothingnelse the myth of subliminal ads didnjust that: it caught our attention. Hyp­nnotic suggestions may have been ineffective,nbut the Zeitgeist of subliminalnads, like that of UFO’s, caught fire.nAds were no longer simply thought ofnas one-way streets of seduction that hitnyou on the head with pleading oneliners.nThey became curiosities. Whonknew what evil lurked in the details,nwhat sinister command we were beingnslipped.nSo we talked. The idea behind subconsciousnsuggestion — that if it wasnthere we could not possibly see it —nwas forgotten. Our skeptical eye freelynturned on the ads, attempting to ferretnout any indication of foul play. Thenbyways of the American grapevine litnup with countless stories of manipulation.nUnleashed, the unfettered lorenof subliminalism flourished. S-E-Xnspelled out on a model’s back andnskulls in ice cubes are the stuff ofnlegend. Who was not initiated to thenBig Screen without a warning aboutnencoded messages that drove mass audiencesnto the candy counter? There isnthe now-infamous pack of Camel unfilteredncigarettes. You either see a sexu­nally aroused man or a voluptuous nudenwoman painted into the camel’s leg.nThe “Absolut” ad revels in America’snadvertising Zeitgeist. It is a tributento the myth of subliminal ads. Thenshock-value of sex, violence, and mysticismnmay be gone, but their mystiquenremains. The bold letters spelling outn”ABSOLUT SUBLIMINAL” at thenbottom of the ad beg us to question thencontent of the ice cubes overhead. Butnwe have been tricked. Where we expectednto find the taboo of a deathnimage we find instead a corporate logo.nIn fact, “ABSOLUT SUBLIMI­nNAL” could easily be rewrittenn”ABSOLUT-LY OBVIOUS.” Thenad encourages a symbolic reading overnthe original idea behind subliminalism,nfor it is not covertly selling to ournprimary emotions of fear, anger, andndesire. Its target is our national mythfactory.nFor all its emblematic allusionnto consumer engineering, the ad takesnthe guise of a clever joke, distillingnsubliminal advertising into nothingnmore than a pop-culture phenomenon.n— Daniel Mendel-BlacknALL MY ROAD BEFORE ME:nTHE DIAKCOF C.S.LEWIS 1922-1927nEDITED BY WALTER. HOOPERnJS; / FOREWORD BY OWEN BARFIELDnnnSEPTEMBER 1991/11n