the reason why i don't think i'll ever be able to go into marketing is because you have to be able to stand in front of a group of colleagues, and with a straight face say, "these are breakthrough binders." breakthroughs happen in cancer research. in AIDS research. i'm not convinced they happen in binders. granted, our little marvels are made out of shiny cardboard and they do have a nifty design printed on them that some graphic designer thought through for about 60 seconds, i somehow think that our participants won't leap from their chairs with joy when we hand them out at a meeting. "boy, the war in iraq really sucks, but i can't seem to get my mind off this binder." nor will they fall off their chairs with youthful glee. i think they will remain seated. and not notice a thing. or maybe they'll just pretend they don't notice, you know, to fuck with me. inside their hearts will be racing. they'll be wishing they'd created such a binder. that it was their idea. that they worked for such an innovative organization. one that had the foresight to see that happiness doesn't come from doing what you love or loving what you do or whatever crap those treehugging hippies say. it comes from binders. breakthrough binders.

it's my goal by the end of the year to stop handing out binders. you know, to save the world, and all that good stuff. also because i'm too lazy to make a memo that tells our production guy to what i need printed. my poor marketing person will think that i just don't understand the value of his breakthrough binder. I think I'll just hit him over the head with it.