I’ve been reading Nick Turse’s “The Complex: How the military invades our everyday lives” today, which is a fascinating look at just how many corporate entities and products we consume on a daily basis have ties to the military, mostly through contracting with the DoD. More on that at a future date. Something struck me in the introduction – a fictional tale of a young progressive minded couple and their unknown journey through the maze of DoD subcontractors via every day products – which is just how much of our lives are spent interacting through products.

This has been pointed out in great ways by intellectuals like Douglass Rushkoff and illustrated brilliantly with various “life in logos” projects, but reading it as a narrative was like a bucket of cold water over the head. We wake up every day to a branded alarm clock, eat our branded food, shower with our trademarked soap and wipe our asses with logoed toilet paper. Then it’s time to shuffle off to work in our brand stamped cars, stickered bikes or logoed train cars. After 8 hours of devoting our headspace and bodies to a branded corporation, we head home to relax with copyrighted entertainment material or maybe even create our own entertainment, which the social networking sites we promote it on reserve the unlimited right to use.

In a college class on non-profit marketing I took many years ago, one of the professors pointed out that we now live “in an experience driven economy.” That’s obvious to any 30something who spends more money at a rock show or on the latest version of Rock Band than on a nice couch or dining set that would impress their parents. What’s more interesting though, is why. At first I used to like thinking it was because my generation cared less about material ownership and more about spending quality time with friends and loved ones. Now though, I wonder if it isn’t simply because the consumerist lifestyle has so entrenched itself in our headspace that even in our most intimate actions with another human being are brand stamped and trademarked.

Trademarks and logos find their way into most activities. We don’t just eat together, we go out to X. We catch a film at a Megaplex, brought to us by any number of corporate underwriters who sneak their products on camera. Even at the bar, we comment on how delicious Y beer is and complain about our Z computers acting up and how the Late Night Television Show just doesn’t deliver anymore. We even lament to our familes about the frustration of our job at Q.

So called culture jammers and adbusters are astutely aware of this, but then again, they’re just as guilty – replacing one brand name with another that’s a little friendlier to their subculture’s purported rebellious ideals. In fact, even the most DIY rebellions come with sexy flags and chic banners to fly for initiates. Even if I want to deride the latest pop song or reality television train wreck, I’ll end up doing it wearing a pair of white earbuds.

I wonder where this leaves us sometimes when I sit on the train while staring blankly at a small billboard mounted to the wall of the car. At work I block pop up ad after pop up ad, barely noticing that little metallic dell logo shimmering just out of the corner of my eye. I stopped counting words like Facebook, Twitter, Google, Xerox, Kleenex and Asprin in conversation long ago. Before I fall asleep at night, I wonder if that little Magnavox logo on my television will wind up in my dreams.

So where do we go from here? I have no idea. Dreaming – maybe that’s the answer for now. They can’t get you in your dreams, at least, not yet.

Aaron Cynic is a zine writer, internet radio host, blogger, musician, and project organizer from Chicago. He mainly publishes a zine called Diatribe, but has published a few other one shot zines. Aaron has also contributed to numerous other websites and publications and writes regularly for the Chicagoist.