The Non-Sequitur

“Bigfoot the legendary Sasquatch is real.”

An oat-milk brand opens a piece of web copy with a flat declarative about Bigfoot being real, with no stated link to the product.

Why it’s this techniqueThe line opens cold with an absurd, unrelated declaration, 'Bigfoot the legendary Sasquatch is real', dropping a claim that connects to nothing the reader expected from marketing copy and forcing attention by sheer disorientation. The structural tell is that the opener stands alone with no setup, no product, and no logical thread into a pitch; it is a standalone assertion whose only job is to jar the reader into reading the next line. There is no problem statement, no question, no promise of benefit, just a bald non-connecting statement. A bold-claim opener would tie its assertion to the offer; here the assertion is deliberately off-topic, which is what the copy is built around.

“Sucker! Sucker! Oh, sucker... Yeah, I am a liar Yeah I like it...I'll lie again and again -Henry Rollins "Liar"”

A marketing email opens by quoting punk-rock song lyrics with no apparent tie to the offer, then asks if the reader knows the song.

Why it’s this techniqueThe copy launches with a snarling lyric, 'Sucker! Sucker! Oh, sucker...' and a confession, 'I am a liar...I'll lie again and again,' content that has no apparent bearing on whatever is being sold. It opens cold on borrowed song words rather than on a claim, a benefit, or a problem, which is the structural tell: the first beat lands sideways, owing nothing to product logic, and forces the reader to wonder why a punk lyric is here at all. The attribution '-Henry Rollins "Liar"' completes the disorienting fragment before any pivot. That jarring, unexplained leap, not curiosity phrasing or a quote endorsement, is the engine the lines are built on.

“Nobody Wants to Read Your Shit... No, this is not an email I received from an angry reader (though I have received many similar ones over the years). It's actually the title of a fun book on the topic of writing... Now, what does any of this have to do with investing?”

A finance post opens on the title of a book about writing before asking what it could possibly have to do with investing.

Why it’s this techniqueAn investing post opens on a writing book, 'Nobody Wants to Read Your Shit', a subject with no visible connection to markets, and lets the mismatch sit until the copy itself asks 'Now, what does any of this have to do with investing?' The reader holds an unfinished thought: why is a finance writer talking about writing at all? The structural tell is the voiced pivot question, which proves the irrelevance was engineered; the piece plants a line that does not fit its own subject, then trades on the reader's need to see the connection paid off.

“Do you remember this simple question Katie Couric, then host of CBS Evening News, asked former Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin on September 30, 2008”

A copywriting lesson opens on a famous 2008 television interview moment from electoral politics.

Why it’s this techniqueA copywriting lesson opens inside a 2008 television news moment: 'this simple question' that Katie Couric 'asked former Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin', complete with network and date. Nothing in the line touches writing, marketing, or the reader's work; it is a scene from electoral politics placed first, where a benefit or promise would normally sit. The structural tell is that unexplained distance between opener and subject: the reader cannot yet say why a Palin interview leads a piece about copy, and closing that gap is the only way forward through the text.

“First, fill a pitcher with ice. Now pour in a bottle of ordinary red wine, a quarter cup of brandy, and a small bottle of Club soda. Sweeten to taste with a quarter to half cup of sugar, garnish with slices of apple, lemon, and orange”

A print subscription invitation from a food magazine that begins with step-by-step instructions for mixing a pitcher of sangria.

Why it’s this techniqueThe first position is filled by cooking instructions and nothing else: 'First, fill a pitcher with ice', then 'Now pour in a bottle of ordinary red wine, a quarter cup of brandy', then 'Sweeten to taste' and 'garnish with slices of apple, lemon, and orange'. No sender, subject, or offer appears while the reader is being put to work. The structural tell is that the mismatch is sustained across a full procedure rather than a single strange line: each step commits more attention to a task the copy never explains, so the question of why any of it is here grows with every clause.

“I don't get to the cinema much these days, but as a young slacker, was a frequent moviegoer. I'll never forget one occasion... 10 minutes in, he confidently declared, 'Oh right, that guy's dead'. The movie we were watching: The Sixth Sense.”

A social media post from a copywriting teacher recounting a night at the cinema when a companion called a film's twist early.

Why it’s this techniqueThe piece opens on private movie history, 'I don't get to the cinema much these days, but as a young slacker, was a frequent moviegoer', then runs the anecdote all the way to its punchline: '10 minutes in, he confidently declared, 'Oh right, that guy's dead''. The tell is that the digression closes itself. Whatever suspense it raises is its own, and it is discharged inside the excerpt: the twist is called, 'The movie we were watching: The Sixth Sense' supplies the title, the scene ends. The reader is left holding a completed story whose only loose end is its presence in a piece about something else.