"What is to be done," writes Taplin in a down mood. Hard to blame him. I've been on an orgy of Mad Men episodes and everything he says conjures up one of their priceless scenes, the image of Peggy in her bath, the redhead rubbing her strap-reddened shoulder, Betty clumsily swinging her perfect legs over the bed and stepping on her broken wine glass.
Mad Men is about the beginnings of this culture, its obsession with celebrity and lies. Last night Marilyn Monroe had died and the entire office was in tears. It causes us to ache, this culture, with desire. We throw each other away along with the useless packaging.
It causes us to isolate. It causes us to self-destruct.
Just try to be kind.
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