I think I dislike this use of Walt Whitman. It feels like a debasement of his poetry—like using the Bible or the Bhagavad Gita to sell soda. And what’s up with the Leni Riefenstahl vibe and the fascist salutes (one toward the middle and one at the end)?
The more I think about this the more I hate it. The ontological mysteries (to which Whitman’s poems are addressed) are hijacked for the selling of pants. Ontological mysteries are turned into the functional, the fake. It is an artificial spontaneity, a mimicry of authenticity, like the evolved tricks of this octopus:
Whitman wrote his poetry under inspiration; Levi’s appropriates his poetry for market manipulation. Ironically, most people’s exposure to Whitman’s energies will only ever come via this insincere and debased Romanticism; this simulacra.