“And they’re quite right, of course. We of the ... the extreme occident, for right or wrong—and there I’ve said it myself—think in dichotomies ... have done so since our very inception. Oneness? Never had a chance in this great land of ours! Well, I ask you staffers, where does that leave us? Monotheism shot to pieces on the one hand—dire craving for an absolute existing on the other. I submit to you staffers that the solution establishes itself before our very eyes: namely, that an absolute—in any particular field—must be presented as a dichotomy! Yes, if one mother company, such as our Vanity, could confront the public with a pure dichotomy, in any particular product, it would gain virtual monopoly there. Yes, and we will present such a dichotomy! Two sides which embrace the extremes and meet in the middle! I say people will make their choice within the dichotomy presented by the mother company; they will not go outside it, because then the issue would become vague and the implications of the choice no longer clear and satisfying ... satisfying in terms, I mean to say, of the self-orientation for which they do, in the last analysis, buy these products at all. Are there any dissensions from the view I’ve expressed?”
There were none to speak of and Grand continued briefly:
“Now what we want is one product which we can present in the two forms—good and evil, old and new, primitive and civilized—two items designed for the same use but presented as completely antithetical, both morally and philosophically—not aesthetically, however ... packaging will be high-tone and identical, let the departments concerned take note ... now do any of you—execs, staffers—know what that product might be?”
They did not, but this was evidently just a teaser anyhow, for Grand had already selected his product, and the work on it even now was under way. It was to be a body deodorant of course—presented, as he had suggested, in two forms. The first was traditional, combining the clinical and the erotic, offering, as it did, “... Protection for Those Most Precious Moments of All—It Cuts Away Body Odor like a Knife.” It was technically superior to any others on the market, making use of “... liquid glass, harmless plastic sealers ...” and so on. It was called Stealth. The second deodorant was based on another principle altogether, biology. An ancient wisdom revived, it had to do with natural selection among mating animals, and did, according to eminent and quoted authorities, rest securely on the olfactory motive-response by which animals find and achieve harmonious, monogamous relationships. Thus, the second product was designed not to obscure the natural body odor but to cleverly assert it. And, in M.R. terms, an undeniable correspondence and natural attraction would result between appropriate compatible persons. It was called Musk and Tallow. An irritant jingle, in stereophonic sound, on the high-velocity repetition principle, was to be used: “Don’t Lie Fallow—Musk and Tallow!” repeated many many times within a few seconds.
It was also decided that owing to the failure of Downy, it would be to certain advantage to make a clear break at this point and change the name of the mother company—a new name which would embrace both aspects of the M.R. postulate; and so it was decided: LADY APHRODITE.
Grand arranged that a number of prominent biologists, physicians, philosophers, church representatives, film stars, congresswomen, nursery-school teachers, and so on, should come forward in unsolicited endorsement of the moral correctness and practicality of the product.
Promotionwise, it did seem to capture the imagination of the public. Grand’s contention at conference was that it appealed to the “magnificent bohemian strain in the great middle class,” and “to the return-to-nature elements dormant within them like a sleeping giant.”
“In offering these two products across this grand land of ours,” he said at final conference, “Lady Aphrodite has presented a pure dichotomy. At last a satisfactory choice may be made, a side taken, and yet each side shall enjoy the security—on this particular issue at least—of operating within an absolute. Gentlemen, I say this product may well spell ‘home-run’ in the hearts of Mr. and Mrs. U.S.A.!”
Small matter though, for both products were, as it turned out, nothing more nor less than some kind of delayed-action stench-bomb—hydrogen sulfide or the like—causing a great stench and embarrassment to a number of people. Apparently it was simply another joke by Grand at their expense, and not altogether in the best of taste. At least so the press thought (when they got wind of it) and they were down on this Grand and his staffers like the proverbial ton. It cost him plenty to clear.