Every day I pass by a billboard with an image that I avoid looking at. I think it is advertising a haunted house. I have the impression of stringy blond hair, sunken eyes, and blood coming from the mouth–as if it had just been feeding. I don’t know if it is male or female.
I don’t want to impose my squeamish standards on others–what I object to is that this billboard imposes its image on me and on anyone who looks that way–such as children.
Years ago–okay, decades–time flies when you’re growing old–I saw Indiana Jones. In a climatic scene near the end of the movie, the Nazis opened the Arc of the Covenant. Spirit images–at first lovely–came pouring out, but then they changed to nightmarish faces. At that point, I covered my eyes. Yet, compared to today’s offerings–they were almost cartoonish.
There is a certain type of movie in which a new one is produced every year and shown in theaters each October. It is animated and targets children, but the images are dark and often mutilated. However, they are shown on a screen that requires a ticket to get into or a TV that comes with an off button. This allows parents some measure of control for what their child sees.
Not so with a billboard.
Okay, I’m done. No more soapbox for awhile–I promise.