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Douglas Holt and James Twitchell

Entry 6:

Now, Jim,

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There you go again. Only halfway through my cappu-latte, and you've got my brain aching for a follow-up triple shot.

I think you've generally got the brand thing down. Time for you to pursue that brand management job that you've been fantasizing about. If you move beyond those management books that you're reading--designed to sell consulting hours rather than tickle the brain--to less fun but more provocative academic journal articles on the topic (the crazier wings thereof), you'll find that this story-based view of branding (and consumption more generally) dominates. But this is not the cyberspace to hold forth on such strung-out writing.

Onto Chicago blues and the Palm. That's one mangled argument you're making, Jim. English professors get schooled in rhetoric? Please help me understand.

1. Brands are (short) stories competing for our interest. Fine.

2. When marketers (the Roman Catholic Church) try to control the meanings of their ecclesiastical product, they are not able to do so, and the alternative meanings eventually take over. (This is exactly the point of my paper I sent you last month, Jim--the argument is central to what I'm calling "postmodern branding"). So I think that point is swell also.

3. Therefore, the Chicago Blues District is a story that the audience wants, and I'm resisting their storied desires. Huh?

My point is just the opposite. The audience as it has been formed without the help of commerce wants the authentico story with the REAL buildings (remember the German tourists). Some want the performance staged for them, of course. This is the basis of the Bellagio's success and other experiential tourist destinations like it. Tourists don't want to do any of the work accessing the stories. However, there is no problem staging the 1930s Bronzeville District jazz story from within the Palm. In fact it's much easier since the tavern is full of real artifacts--dusty old pictures of all the jazz legends of the era line the walls, the bar's patina is in fact a product of Langston Hughes' elbow. Don't your students like to pilgrimage to Stratford-Upon-Avon to access the story of Shakespeare in his day in a manner more visceral than they can get from your pontifications?

The point is that marketed stories have greater value when they touch our lives in a more literal way than you're willing to allow for. Often enough, desires for "touching" leave the realm of fantasy to connect to places and times and events that we (people, rather than marketing companies) had a hand in making. Branding that facilitates such connections wins big in today's marketplace.

Another point is that companies often have tremendous power to shape the stories that we consume. This is not the narratological equivalent of perfect competition that we're witnessing. Certain stories get spun more often because it's easier to make money with them, regardless of audience tastes. Why do you think there are so many sports newscast channels these days? How much do you think those guys get paid relative to Tiger and Shaq?

BTW, in deference to lineage, the No. 1 car song of all time must be the Modern Lovers' "Roadrunner," followed closely by the Mekons' "Memphis, Egypt." Don't be tempted to give them a spin in your Beamer, though. Would be kind of like a Rockport ad finding its way onto Page 3 of the Times. Jonathan Richman's voice might stick to the Italian leather, and then you'd have a hell of a mess on your hands.

Rock on,
Doug

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James Twitchell is supposed to be teaching English literature but is more interested in the marketing of stuff. He has written books on advertising (Adcult USA,Twenty Ads That Shook the World) and has a mild defense of luxury consumption coming out next year (Living It Up: Why We Love Luxury). Douglas Holt is a professor at Harvard Business School.