Recently on television, you might have seen the story of Goldilocks and the three Hummers.
While I suppress the sophomoric urge to turn that phrase into a cheap joke, I'm sure that a lot of you might recognize its true origins - a recent car commercial.
The commercial features three bears of varying sizes coming home to a house that has been ravaged by your average run-of-the-mill young, blonde, suburban, girl-next-door, supermodel-like house burglar, who - unlike the original Goldilocks - was not content with reveling in the menacing and heinous acts of locating the most comfortable chair or polishing off the most appropriately warm bowl of porridge. Instead, the coup-de-gr+â-â-óce for the unfortunate group of bears in the commercial is fully recognized when they head out to their three-car garage and discover that Goldilocks has made off with the newest model of their complete Hummer collection: the H3.
The commercial ends with the tag line for the H3's marketing campaign, "This one's just right."
Aside from the obvious inquiries that this commercial seems to naturally conjure - namely, how is PETA going to find a way to protest for a family of grizzly bears making enough money to not only afford a house with a three-car garage but to also to stock it with brand new Hummers - I believe that it speaks to the fragile nature of American identity.
Also, using a children's story to sell cars to adults seems to be catering to consumers who are confused about what kind of image they want to project in society.
Furthermore, by claiming that "This one's just right" in reference to the H3, isn't the Hummer corporation admitting by default that the H1 and H2 were mistakes? I mean, sure it seemed a little gaudy that the H1 was large enough to stage a reenactment of Gettysburg in the back seat and that the H2 actually came fully loaded with an OPEC nation ready for drilling already in the trunk to save money on gasoline. But to advertise that the H3 is only large enough to comfortably contain a small grizzly bear tells an already materialistically minded society that not even our corporate giants can remain consistent in the messages they send the public.
It is at times like these when America needs a pillar of strength that we can rely on for some consistency. Someone who will anchor us firmly in the principles of self-realization and inner-confidence that we value in the ideal individual.
Someone like, you know, Ashlee Simpson.
As evidenced by the title of her recent sophomore effort "I Am Me," Ashlee Simpson may single-handedly carry the goods that will keep us afloat during our national identity crisis.
From the pulsing hip hop of "L.O.V.E," in which she mimics Gwen Stefani, to the stargazing rock sound of "Dancing Alone" that was stolen from Coldplay, to her desperate attempt to sound like the Black Eyed Peas on "Burnin Up," Ashlee Simpson - or "the talented one's sister" - has remained firm in her quest to deliver the most contrived, manufactured, paint-by-numbers excuse for music that our nation's preteen girls have ever loved to make themselves dumber to.
Yes, whether copying the sugary croon of her older sister in the studio or brandishing the crack-addicted-ostrich-receiving-a-hot-coffee-enema squawk that defines her live performances, Ashlee Simpson has taught us one thing: Consistency pays best when you're consistently selling out.
This is what her father and manager, Joe Simpson, has taught her. And why shouldn't she listen to him? After all, he was recently cited as the "Most Successful Man In America To Willfully Make Money By Marketing His Daughters' Cleavage."
So, that's that. She is her, and her is whatever her marketing team thinks that fans want her to be.
Selling an Ashlee Simpson album is really a lot more like selling a car than making music, but maybe it's all for the best. I mean, how else is she going to afford that new Hummer?
Write to Lance at lmvaillancou@bsu.edu
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