I love getting emails from the White House. Periodically, a document that appears automatically on my index finger presses the delete key on my computer. An invitation to a club with FB a flyer foul. Another study absolutely not necessary on AIDS. A newsletter that speaks to me of gay, wait for it is very unexpected ... Lady Gaga. Can someone send me information worthy of name, for crying out loud? I'm at my one hundredth mail removed since this morning and suddenly, Michelle Obama writes.
This is not about prestige. I'm not particularly impressed with the idea of getting a message "staff" of the First Lady of the United States or even a hello from David Axelrod. In fact, the whole clan of the White House seems to give over to send her some news. Monday morning, the emperor, his wife and the little prince ... "So, Michelle, you write to Didier on Monday and David (Axelrod), provided you have been sending a skylight for Friday." No, the whole world spends in a dual system that favors fair either the chairman or a secretary of state who has something to say or someone totally unknown.
I subscribed to the White House (that's a nice sentence to write, I assure you) More than a year, I can not remember how. I probably pressed the "Submit" form "Get Email Updates " at the top right corner of the home page of the White House, by definition, like "let's see if you are able to amaze me . And every time I get one of these emails, a small smile appears on my lips, even when I'm in a bad mood.
I'll tell you: to receive these emails is the equivalent of a mint very fresh in the midst of all mails that appear to have been heavily starched before they are sent. Because, damn, what model. It is a breath of fresh air that surrounds you, a breeze caressing and transparent, and it's not yet something that is easy to imagine coming from the White House. Someone, somewhere in the West Wing, or look in a basement office outsourced elsewhere, has pressed a button that sent millions of messages through the world and mine arrived in my little village in Normandy. Cool, huh?
importantly, this is the central point, what a nice mail. The logo White House is locked at the top center of the document, surrounded by a halo of brightness dimmed incredible. This is not white, not gray, it is a gray-white powder that seems to catch the light of your computer. This recalls the wonder that accompanied the early days of Photoshop. One can imagine even sub-layers of color coded in white, indistinguishable from the ordinary to make it unconsciously more beautiful, richer, more Institutionally, what more American! It's the equivalent of medieval parchment with ribbon sealed by the plug. A message from the White House to youuuuu! White sign is what sending the White House and we imagine a team of 25 geeks doing brainstorming sessions to give even more depth, in a very WASP, very Calvin Klein. Moreover, to add prestige, when you receive an email from Obama-himself ", the logo of the White House has disappeared altogether for another in-gray-on-white-on-beige. kind of less is more , there is not laughing more.
And the text! Below, the subject of the mail is inscribed in gold, so gold! It spares no! And in the text, each word seems clearer, more dynamic. That the White House who is writing a brothel. And you read the mail, even if the subject does not interest you, because you think they bothered to do it well, them. It's not like you receive a message from the City of Paris laid by a student on the PS that came about just because he hopes to sleep with someone to get ahead and who lives in a studio with a loft in light wood (pine stand) purchased from a side street in the sixth district.
Ah, you see me coming. The Mairie de Paris. Well no, for once, I speak rather of the French Presidency of the Republic. Have you noticed the nice desk that they chose to press conferences at the Elysee? With a pretty blue logo embossed on one side that gives Washington at 55 Faubourg Saint-Honoré? That is, it will signal the approach of presidential elections. But the rest! It's as if people who "work" in the dressing the Elysee had said, by mutual agreement, "OK, we passed the desk of the media room, we will do the rest and all the variations when the graphic model of the Chained Duck out of the 19th century. Translation: NEVER!
There really is something that I dados in Web design o.2 foo. Since Facebook is the "third state" of the planet , we are inundated with invitations to parties or events with hideous pictures. It is the revival flyers queers 90s. And I'll put you guys who have not even bare the look of Now and appear out of a bank of images coming from Budapest. And I'm sending out invitations that look like exhibition of cartoons for Ward debates organized by the mayor of the eleventh arrondissement (PS I think it's there, haha) and then an icon bitch a bitch who invites you to play in Farmville. Bitch, I live in the countryside, I do not need your substitute crop country.
I say. Look at the mail from Michelle Obama. I'm pissed to death against her husband and Hilary Clinton who care about our mouths on the subject of Gaza and all that lies around in a radius of 1000 kilometers (at least), but it feels good to breathe and put aside his anger to listen to what she has to say. Hey, today is the abuse of babies giraffes. Interesting.
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