A Copywriter’s Blog
Fair is Fair Ben Levy 22, May

In my day, Saturday morning television was about Martial Terapins and Extinct Reptiles from Outer Space. Now it’s full of shows like this.

On this show gentlemen- clothed in camouflage and covered in scent-masking soap- talk a lot of shit. They lovingly discuss their custom-balanced rifles, with the magnifying scope and laser site. The ones loaded with armor-piercing bullets.

They hunt turkeys.

I have it on good authority that turkeys are the under-educated, car-jacking, straight-up thugs of the avian kingdom. But they are also fat birds. You cannot, cannot, sit there with military-grade armaments and act like the world’s greatest badass. You should not need the accumulated technological advances of an entire civilization to take down an overweight, barely flightworthy bird. And even if you do, you should not brag about it.

Around this time last year, I was working on an account for a shoe based on barefoot running. In the process, I read a lot of running theories.

One of them was along the following lines: Humans weren’t capable of actually running down their food. But we had endurance. So what would happen is, we would startle a deer. It would take off. We would jog after it. The deer would eventually tire out, and pause to catch its breathe. Before it was completely recovered, we would catch up, causing it to bolt again. This cycle would repeat, but the deer was able to run less and less each time. Eventually, its heart would burst. Back in the day, this was referred to as “lunch time”.

During that project I was on a shoot with a pair of runners. One was a former olympic miler. I casually mentioned this theory to him.

“Oh yeah,” he said “that works.”

“Really?” I replied with surprise “I wasn’t aware they’d actually tested it.”

“Oh, I don’t know if they did it officially or anything. But my friends and I did it once.”


“We ran down a deer. It only took two and a half hours, actually. Had a heart attack.”


Now that. That you can brag about.

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My New Cult Ben Levy 19, July

Last week, the treadmills in my complex were either taken or broken, so I went running on the pier.

I see why people do this now.

I was never a treadmill runner before. I actually ran (more like jogged quickly) track in high school, and I prefer the sort of running that actually takes you somewhere to the sort that keeps you in one spot. But I just moved recently and haven’t worked out a mile loop in my area, so I’ve been hamster-wheeling it the last few weeks.

But I was forced to actually go outdoors last Wednesday, and stumbled again upon the cult of the runner.

Most of the street/pier was full of businessmen. But here and there I discovered people like me. Men and women in crappy clothes and earbuds pounding pavement in defiance of laziness and sloth. Each time we passed each other, a nod of the head or flip of the fingers was given in wordless salute. We were brothers and sisters, and though no two of us dressed alike, we were all identified by our pace and resolve. We weaved in and around the coffee-drinkers and briefcase-carriers, feeling superior. And in some cases, feeling short of breath as well.

Every runner I passed rejuvenated me. As long as they ran, so would I. None of us would stop, not within sight of each other. We would push on. Just till that lamppost. That jetty. That bus stop sign. Just by stepping outside, and then stepping some more in quick succession, I had joined a swift and unspoken brotherhood.

Then Friday I was back on the treadmill. Cause cults take a lot of commitment, y’know? And I didn’t want to get stuck with any membership fees. I’ll just take some time to read the pamphlets before committing to anything.

But I might show up for next Wednesday’s meeting. We’ll see how it goes.

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