There is much fondness for claiming to be Marshall McLuhan’s son, daughter, grandchild or bastard progeny. There is a strong tendency to exaggerate the power of wheatpaste and a damn good joke. And to overstate their own power:one culture-jamming manifesto, for instance, explains that “the billboard artist’s goal is to throw a well aimed spanner into the media’s gears, bringing the image factory to a shuddering halt.” (pag.295)