Getting branded once involved searing your exposed flesh with a burning hot metal stamper.
Believe me, kids. I’m not making this stuff up.
And after you got burned you were officially brand new—that’s what the term actually means. After getting stamped with a hot iron, you’re now ready for sale.
There were other ways of getting branded. But they were all situations you wanted to avoid.
Years ago, there was even a TV show called Branded. The theme song told a story, and reminded viewers every week that branding was the worst thing that could happen to you.
Ah, the times they are a-changing—folks now want to get branded. They post about it on LinkedIn, and even give cult-like seminars encouraging wannabes to brand themselves.
C’mon Dawg, roll up your sleeve.
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But that’s no surprise. We are living in a golden age of self-mutilation and self-objectification. Sometimes it feels as if the main function of the Internet is to turn people into things.
Of course, that’s always the purpose of branding, whether you’re livestock or a millionaire celebrity. Or—as in increasingly the case—a millionaire celebrity who acts like livestock.
Even so, I still feel my own skin sizzling a bit when I see former rebels submit to the brand.
And that’s especially the case with Mr. Bob Dylan.
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