My name is Jaye Beldo and I suffer from Advertising Affective Disorder, or AAD. My affliction results from life-long exposure to advertising. Ronald McDonald haunts me in my dreams and tries to get me to pledge allegiance to the New World Order. The Pillsbury Doughboy claims that he is the Messiah and if I don't worship him he will turn me into dinner rolls. Tony the Tiger waits in the shadows, ready to pounce on me as punishment for trying to think outside the Cornflakes box. Palmolive Madge threatens to soak my entire body in dish detergent because I desire world peace. The Charmin Teddy Bear causes me to fight with my girlfriend. Every time I try to go to an art exhibit, I see Mr. Clean splashing floor cleaner onto a painting by Picasso or Van Gogh. Advertising mascots like Joe Camel, the California Raisins or the Michelin Tire man trespass into my brain and demand that I buy their products. Or else. It doesnít matter if the ad aired yesterday or 30 years ago because the icons, logos and jingles continue to torment me 24/7. My sense of time has become grossly distorted. Sometimes my attention span comes in 30 or 60 second ad spots.
Sometimes I wonder if Iím being targeted by the CIA. Or perhaps AAD is the result of some Psy-Ops experiment. Perhaps the NSA is behind it all. If so, I'd like to know who or what my handler is. Could only Madison Avenue know for sure? I believe AAD is a silent killer.