�
Untitled #96
The billboard towering over the town�s busiest intersection brought fresh new ideas each month, and the townspeople looked forward to them. To rent space at such a prime location was costly, and therefore attracted only the finest advertisements. There were ads for minivans and ads for maxipads. Ads promoting a nice no-nonsense cigarette, and ads with sad cowboys to inform them that smoking is not healthy. The townspeople liked to discuss each month�s new installment. They were getting very good at it, and considered themselves a media-savvy lot. But no ad had ever inspired such talk as the one up there currently.
"That," said the lathe worker, "is certainly something."
"It�s erotic," said the consultant. "It�s erotic and guileless."
"It�s nostalgic, I�d say, and a little bit blasphemous. Nostalgic, blasphemous, and triumphant."
"I would say wistful. Wistful and edgy."
"Edgy, yes, I�d agree with that one."
"What is it selling?"
"Oh, I haven�t the slightest idea."
"Does anyone know?"
"No," chimed in the telemarketer, "but I, for one, would like to buy the product, whatever it might be."
"Yes," agreed the consultant, "I�m sure it�s of high quality."
"How do we know it�s selling something? Maybe it�s telling us not to buy something."
"I think it�s a warning."
"I think it�s ironic."
"It�s self-reflexive, is what it is."
"I�d say it�s post-postmodern. Or maybe pre-postmodern."
"It�s playing with our expectations."
"It�s pulled the rug out from under us."
"I think it�s for a shoe. It makes me want to buy a shoe."
"Oh, I don�t get that at all."
"I know who we should ask. We should ask Bob the Writer."
"Of course! If anyone would know, Bob the Writer would."
Bob the Writer was highly regarded by the town. He was the pioneer of the short-short-short story. Each of his stories was exactly one word in length. People were initially skeptical, but somehow, he made it work.
"Have you read his latest? Untitled #95? It�s brilliant."
"I�ve heard it�s been optioned by Dreamworks."
"Really? A film? That will be difficult. They�ll have to get someone good."
"I didn�t care for it. A pale imitation of his earlier stuff."
"It had promise. A bit rough around the edges."
"Well, I think it�s brilliant. I read it 562 times last night. It reminded me of Carver."
"I�m so jealous. I never have time to read anymore."
And so they all agreed to summon Bob, and soon he stood among them. The townspeople kept back to give him room, and he went face to face with the imposing billboard�he staring up to it, and it staring back down to him, casting him in its shadow. Everyone was silent, and the cars stopped driving, and the birds stopped chirping, and you get the idea. Finally Bob stepped back and declared to the town, "I cannot interpret this piece, because I created it."
Everyone, then, understood it completely, and proclaimed it the most wonderful advertisement in the history of commerce.
Bob, for his part, had never seen the ad before in his life. But in taking credit for it, he made it his own.