The author of chapter 15 writes about how advertisers create content for the purposes of having it “resonate with the knowledge that the listener possesses”. In this sense, the meaning of an advertisement presupposes that I, the viewer, knows anything about the content. Specifically, it's not what I am thinking, but what I desire, feel, or at least, this is what I assume is meant by “dreaming”, about the adveertisement. So, am I being forced to re-purchase that which I already possess. How sneaky.

I describe the iPod on the wall plastered on the wall of the McGill Metro stop as an example of being subjected to monstrously large advertisements displayed one the walls of the metro stops I pass by on my way to school. What happens when I don't desire to listent to music? Are my emotions re-imagined still? Does the huge digital advertisement become null and void to me, or do I purchase an analogue of it?  If, according to the chapter, that the intentionality of the display is directly related to my experiences with it, then yes, I believe the ad is lost on me. However, since they are “part of a social reality”, I believe that I am necessarily a part of  all other riders' desires of the metro. For if I belong, my reflection to the “resonance” of the big wall-sized display causes me to “feel” something. While I care very little for this “poking the bear” process of the smarmy executives who wish to make me “feel” something on my journey on the proletariat chariot, I am reminded of my own desires to get my thesis started and completed in a timely fashion. And, for this, I require a fancy dancy lappy 486 that will allow me to fulfill my desire of drowning myself in higher education. Odd, I know, but even though I lack a desire to listen to music on the metro, the journey to and fro becomes a time when at least my academic asipriations are reflected upon. 

The author turns to Marxist social theory as an explanation of this behaviour. Do I, as the proletariat (You don't see me driving to school in a Hummer, do you?) become so marginalied by my day-to-day journey that I fail to recongize that which goes beyond the mass-cultural dellusion that we all need a fancy music player? Do I fail to take notice of the art pieces that flank the walls of each and every metro stop? Do I let advertisements tell ME what my hopes and wants are? Not specifically no, but, if they at least cause me to reflect upon my own desires, then yes, I think so. Even though I still fail to recognize the beauty of blasting Duran Duran on my way to school, I find myself writing this report on a laptop manufactured by the same company that makes those music players I was rambling about a paragraph above. Even though the ad does very little to evoke my emotions about the specific content of it, it does force me, probably through its LACK of relevance,  to drift in and out of my own mind, while I rehearse the setup and breakdown of my master's reearch proposal. In this sense, the ad does  does allow me to fail to see the dominant discourse of the domiant demographic of the passengers I share a metro car with (young hip urban youth who desire to share their ride with the graces of any of the top 30 music video singeres of the week?) However, I feel this distraction from reality is a productive one, even though the ad does remind me, through a connection formed between the manufacturer of the music player and the one of my work horse laptop, of the ultimate reason for my trip: to learn somthing.