Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Dear Nike, Die

It's not me, it's you. We used to have something back in the day. Maybe it was Michael who brought us together with his mighty airness. I don't know for sure.

But I do know that was then. I've grown up now. I no longer need a swoosh on my chest or foot to know I'm in good hands. You however still are seeking attention and devoted fans, never just happy with what you have.

Sure when I started running, I looked to you and your fancy wares but I realized that you were mostly flash and gimmicks. You didn't care about my foot, all you wanted was the next best thing. Others actually cared, and showed it.

Now you're scraping the bottom of the barrel and going after my eyeballs. It started out on the west coast when you tested your evil depraved plans in Eugene under the banner of "helping the program." I have to admit, I watched because it was novel. What crazy shade(s) of green would the Ducks be sporting this week? But you've stretched out that piece of taffy and last year you took your plan nationwide and convinced weaker minds at Adidas and Under Armour to work with you in making college athletes look even more ridiculous then before.

Still, I let that slide. But now you are out of control! I opened my paper this morning to find what can only be described as a mix between leftover XFL jerseys dipped in silver paint and dragged through a tub of glitter that may, or may not, have an emblem belonging to the Washington Redskins.

I can't be sure but I think it may glow in the dark. That's probably a good thing because the team wearing them may need to escape laughing fans under cover of night. As an astute apple magnate observed, "... I may have to beat them up and steal their lunch money. " He's saying this about 300 pound strong men who could squish him like a grape. Do you see how you're raping our eyes?

In light of all the evil in this world and all the malice spread over the airwaves, I thought that a little more wouldn't hurt. So, Nike, please get out of my life and the lives of every seeing person who you continue to infect with your perverse brand of design.

Yours Truly,

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