While listening to the radio this morning I heard what I'd have to call the last commercial I ever expected to hear... ever. After quite heartily enjoying a stimulating segment of LA's Kevin & Bean show in which Kevin and Bean praised guest Emmy Rossum for how thoroughly pleased they were with the full on boobery she displayed in the premiere of her new show Shameless (ironical?), they faded to commercial and a quiet came over the air as a striking voice begged the question: What if your job could change the fate of the nation?
Immediately, I assumed this was going to be some sappy, over-aggrandized ad for an admirable but normal job like teaching, nursing, or custodian-ing. But then they asked: What if one meeting or operation could make our country a safer place?
Then I thought, well it would be hard to justify the thought that one parent-teacher conference could have such a vast effect. And what do they mean by operation? Is this a commercial to be a doctor? And if so could any operation, no matter how difficult, really make the country safer (save for maybe removing a bomb from the skull of the President, a situation which has yet to present itself)?
Now thoroughly engrossed in this commercial, I anxiously awaited the next query. And it came, and I swear this is true, in the form of: What if your job was so important, you couldn't tell your friends or family what you do? Become a Clandestine Operative for the Central Intelligence Agency...
The fucking C.I.A. is putting out radio ads to recruit spies?! I gotta say that does not make me feel good about the state of our nation's covert affairs. I always thought if I was going to be a spy Al Pacino would find me in a bar or some shit. I at least assumed the manner in which you became part of the world of espionage would at least be a little more, I dunno, espionagey?
Basically, I thought they find you. Now I come to find out they run a few spots on the local morning show, likely in conjunction with several search engine optimized craigslist posts and a full pager in Parade Magazine.
For shame, C.I.A. For shame.