I tried to appreciate it, I really tried my best. They tell me that Campofrío played a game of distraction this year: he launched a typical Christmas ad about coming back, coming home for Christmas, only to deny it a few days later with the actual announcement . The authentic should be cheeky, traditional, a little punk, sour, horny and representative of today's Spain. Well, I don't see any difference between the nerd ad parody and the real ad. And that Carlos Areces convinces me of everything. I always spend everything with him, but I prefer to excuse myself for Christmas dinner.
This is not about creating a new division between Spaniards who welcome Campofrío's announcement and Spaniards who boo it. Making fun of this advert is already a cynical cliché, as common as hating Christmas itself. There's nothing wrong with being a little grumpy – the lottery is coming soon and we'll regret it – but that is not the debate. What's impressive here is how the Christmas spirit survives the way capitalism does: by pretending to include its critics.
I didn't see any difference between the real and the fake advertising that was supposedly created with artificial intelligence because there isn't one. Campofrío offers the same prudery as always, the same preaching from large developing families, the same lyrics from the same Christmas carol, the same nonsense. Selling it with excellent comedians and hooligan script resources makes it sound like a fancy priest saying cool things about Paraguay in his sermons without them ceasing to be just as sermons as the ones the Carlist priests gave in Latin. Today as yesterday they preach the same nerdy values: “Let a poor person sit at your table.” It's the data of what will be done, but it doesn't represent me.
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