Between Coke and Pepsi, Coke is the older of the two brands, the dominant one. It associates itself with warmth, nostalgia. In a Coke commercial, computerized polar bears sip from icy bottles on Christmas Eve. Conversely, Pepsi is a drink for the young, an underdog, a moment of impulse. Pepsi is the “choice of a new generation,” “the right one, baby, uh huh.” Of course, most soda fountains provide other choices, too. There the additional brown liquids. The hyper-yellows and hyper-reds. And also, as afterthoughts, the lemon-lime citrus.
7UP and Sprite have been associated with slogans like “Make Seven Up Yours” or “Lymon.” Their catchphrases seem to come and go, barely remembered. For decades, advertisers have hatched campaigns to sell their lemon-lime drinks. But nothing seems to stick. Since their creation, not 7UP or Sprite have been able to invent any kind of lasting narrative. (Sprite even showed lack of confidence in their longest-running “Obey your thirst,” truncating it to the innocuous “Obey.”) And this may be partially the point. Transparent sodas aren’t supposed to lead the marketplace. They only allow consumers the possibility of choice. We choose them to satisfy a momentary desire for change, a temporary departure, a vacation from the usual cola.
In the narrative vacuum that surrounds 7UP and Sprite, we begin to take responsibility for our own choices. It is a decision unaided by advertising, and it shows the undercurrents of our personality. This common selection lays us transparent: The devastating sweetness of Sprite sheens our mouths with a protective coat of sticky sugar. Sprite is for the depraved; those who yearn to be wrapped up, nurtured, comforted. In contrast, the tart lime and violent carbonation of 7UP stabs us repeatedly in the tongue and throat. Only closet masochists drink it; those who secretly desire to destroy themselves.
Spectacular. Also of note, Pepsi’s lemon-lime drink has had an identity crisis since inception: from Teem, to Slice, to Storm, to Sierra Mist. It’s obvious that lemon-lime citrus drinks admit some type of uncertainty–we choose it over cola, and the result is often some sort of drink envy–fitting for a brand so associated with the color green.
[...] Located in Center City Philadelphia, the Mütter Museum’s initial purpose was to educate future doctors about anatomy and medical oddities. Now open to the public, its mission has expanded to “tell important stories on what it is to be human”. The exhibits, however, could suggest otherwise: 2000 Objects Collected from People’s Throats, The Soap Lady (who inexplicably mummified to adipocere), skeletons of Siamese-twin infants, among dozens of others. The exhibits are frequented, one could argue, not because they reflect daily experience, but because they exist so beyond what is perceived to be common and palatable. [...]
Is “Obey” truly innocuous? And: What of the oft-forgotten Fresca?
Good question. On the one hand “Obey,” as an imperative, seems far from innocuous. It seems to command that you drink Sprite. Still, we must remember the full slogan: “Obey Your Thirst.” This to me effaces the purpose of the ad, since I know well that when I am thirsty, Sprite will do almost nothing to assuage my need. If I truly follow that full imperative, I won’t even so much as consider buying the soft drink. Of course, the disembodied “Obey” doesn’t disappear as you complete the sentence, though, and you can never completely erase that sense that you are meant to show full deference to the commands of the advertisement…
Yeah, I agree. I meant innocuous in terms of Sprite’s paring down of the slogan to a word that means little outside the original context. By itself, the command, “Obey,” is far from innocuous. Maybe there’s a better word for the idea I’m trying to get across here.
I wonder if the new slogan should have been “Obey!” At least then it would have retained some the original’s emotional urgency. To me, the new slogan just seems like an empty command. That’s innocuous enough, especially since it’s so easy to refuse. Really, “Obey” just lacks authority. Like an eighty-year-old teacher trying to command you to sit, or a stepparent whom you can tell suspects you shouldn’t be listening.
“And: What of the oft-forgotten Fresca?”
Fresca isn’t a lemon-lime drink; it’s grapefruit soda, hence its (proper) omission.