OK. You surrender. The little white flag is now raised high over your cubicle. Your weekend is all laid out for you. After taking the kids to see Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs you’ll take in The Informant. Why? Helloooooo. Do you really think we have a choice? Is NOT choosing to slap down coin on the new Diablo Cody/Megan Fox vehicle Jennifer’s Body really “voting with your dollars” or are you caught in a double-bind with your consumptive choices cordoned all around you and shoveled down your sometimes-metaphorical throat?
Well, perhaps while watching The Informant you’ll enjoy the irony of being fed by the beast a great story of the beast deciding just what you eat and how much you’ll pay for it.
And when you’re done in the theater, you might want to listen to the original Mark Whitacre tapes.
The tapes were run on This American Life back in 2000. I recall listening to them while I was painting my basement one Saturday afternoon and the absurdity of the story boggles one’s mind. Given the press over The Informant, TAL is re-playing the episode.
It’s worth listening to: get it FREE on Apple iTunes/ITMS monopolyÂ by clicking here.
Or, you can check out the episode from TAL’s website.
Yes, airline prices are always the same no matter which airline you call; in Presidential elections you always feel like you’re choosing between the lesser of two evils; and it doesn’t really make your hair any cleaner if you do the final part of the instructions “shampoo, rinse, repeat.” There are all sorts of situations in which we suspect the fix is in, but we almost never find out for certain. On today’s show, for once, we find out. The whole program is devoted to one story, in which we go inside the back rooms of one multinational corporation and hear the intricate workingsâ€”recorded on tapeâ€”of how they put the fix in.
And, since it’s Thursday, which is almost Friday, and you’re just hiding in your cubicle anyway, grab the free Netflix stream of the Frost/Nixon original interviews.
Because today our goal is clearly to toss you over the conspiracy-theory-edge; hopefully in a direction different from the one Glenn Beck is weeping his way towards.