Iconic Marketing Campaigns Rewritten By Famous Authors

H.P. Lovecraft on behalf of Unilever

It is a realism so hideous that I sometimes find hope impossible. If such an accursed blasphemy can indeed be, then man must surrender all arrogant notion of his place in the cosmos. I think even now I am paralysed by the mere suggestion — teetering on the precipice of hysterical, gibbering madness. Merciful creator, I cannot accept, I cannot believe it is not butter!

- - -

E.E. Cummings on behalf of Redbull

it g/ves

u.

w 4 ings

- - -

Flannery O’Connor on behalf of Life Alert

The old woman had begun to move forward. Her neck was craned out as if she was a peahen trying to peck at something that was always being drawn away. She lurched suddenly, swaying as if one leg were shorter than the other. Crumpling, she fell on the pavement.

“Help!” she screamed. The darkness seemed to be sweeping down from the crooked roofs of the houses. A child who had been sitting on the steps in front of a store came towards her. He looked at her face as though he had never seen one like hers before. “Help!” She cried again, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

The boy set his face hard. “There will always be fanatics,” he said. He went back the place he had been sitting and stared over the uneven skyline of the city. None came to help the old woman, for there was no one left to come.

- - -

Charles Bukowski on behalf of L’Oreal

sure, I know that you are tired of hearing about it, but

they won’t let you not

hear about it I mean

it was the same for the bartender

“Jesus,” he said, “that’s how it

is, if possible.”

he liked to talk about the way

1 big woman let herself be changed

by

marriage

parties

vitamins

rosaries or

the lack or excess

of coke

“maybe she’s born with it,”

there were tears in his eyes,

maybe

it’s Maybelline.

- - -

Charlotte Brontë on behalf of Reese’s

“Wicked and cruel girl!” I remonstrated, “You have gotten peanut butter in my chocolate!”

Looking darkly and doubtfully on my face, as incredulous of my sanity, Grace grasped me by each shoulder and shook me vigorously.

“What! What!” She bellowed out aloud, “It is you who have gotten chocolate in my peanut butter! For shame!”

Here ensued a pause, filled up by Harold placing the mixture to his lips.

“I need not ask either of you;” he said and ground his teeth. Some hated thought seemed to have him in its grip. “I dare like it,” he subjoined stormily, “Two great tastes that taste great together.”

- - -

Arundhati Roy on behalf of Islay’s

It was no performance. The enormity of his terrible desire threatened to reduce the Imam to one of those blind, insane beggars who wander the streets singing surahs for alms. He groped his way along the wall, collapsing beneath the welcoming boughs of the old khejri tree. For the first time since the riots, he let his imagination take over completely.

Would he walk barefoot across the desert? Would he stand atop the walls of the Red Fort crying out blasphemies? Would he shave off his beard?

Renounce all virtue?

Curse his own children?

Hurl himself into the ocean?

The wise tree repeated the question back to him as he wept great, silent tears.

What would you do for a Klondike bar?

- - -

Jorge Luis Borges on behalf of Energizer

There is exists within the library of Damascus a certain book which is said to contain all books that ever have or ever shall be written. Its pages are innumerable and its lines contain the very essence of eternity. So it is with the strange, cylindrical object that was forced into my possession by a stranger who called on me at my apartment on Calle Cordoba. In a low voice, as if entrusting me with a secret, he told me that it is a cursed thing. It contains neither beginning nor end, and no hope can exist of grasping its infinitude. I understood then that I had been given the Energizer battery and I should never be rid of it. Like the ouroboros of the alchemists or the Jormungandr of the Norse, its flow returns to its source. Even as the threads of time unravel, it just keeps going and going and going.

- - -

David Foster Wallace on behalf of Wendy’s

Where’s 1 the beef?

- - -

Ernest Hemingway on behalf of Payless

Baby shoes. For sale. Never worn.