Say "Hello": A Meaningless Rebellion Against Cultural Imperialism

Cultural imperialism may sound at first glance like a grandiose political concept, but when we examine how it manifests in everyday life, it often operates like a tragicomic scene: we sing along to English songs whose meanings we don’t understand, we yearn to live amid the sets of Netflix series filmed in cities we’ve never visited, and so on...

So yes, cultural imperialism is a huge absurdity. But precisely because of this absurdity, it works so effectively: it shapes our minds, desires, tastes, and even our dreams.

Cultural imperialism is briefly defined as the process by which a relatively powerful country spreads its cultural products, values, and lifestyle across the world, transforming the imagination and daily lives of other societies from within. Communication and media scholar Herbert Schiller describe it as a process of integration into a U.S.-centered global system, with media serving as its primary instrument.

This concept is not merely about the issue of “we watch foreign films, bro.” Hollywood movies, American television series, pop music, fast food, brands, fashion, social media platforms, and the English language together sell a single “lifestyle package.” This package is often polished with images such as “freedom,” “individual success,” “unlimited consumption,” and the “American Dream.”

Have you noticed that often no one forces us into this? We willingly, enthusiastically, and playfully embrace it—and at some point, we begin to regard our own culture’s creations as “dull,” “outdated,” or “provincial,” while accepting someone else’s lifestyle as “normal.”

Think about it: why does this happen, and to what end?

“The American Dream”—what an irony!—is a grand narrative sold not only to U.S. citizens but to the entire world: if you work hard, you will succeed; if you desire enough, you can climb the social ladder; as a free individual, you can shape your own destiny.

This narrative is, of course, contested and riddled with inequalities even within the United States, but from the outside, it appears like a gilded package.

Meanwhile, people in different corners of the world desire to walk as if on New York streets, post stories as if living in Los Angeles, and dress like the characters in teen films set in American high schools—even before they have ever set foot in those places. This is one of cultural imperialism's’s most “successful” aspects: people begin constructing themselves according to scenarios from a country they have never lived in.

Right at the center of this entire system, in 1972, Adriano Celentano took the stage and said: “If the point is not meaning but merely sounding American, then I’ll give you a song entirely stripped of meaning—a ‘fake American song.’”

“Prisencolinensinainciusol” consists of words that resemble English but have no meaning in any language. Only the phrase “all right” is intelligible. In other words, Celentano imitated how a non-English speaker might perceive American English.

This song is a parody about the inability to communicate. The artist stated he wanted to make a song “about not being able to communicate.” The lyrics are deliberately meaningless; the real experiment is how people react when something “sounds American.” Indeed, it was initially barely noticed, but through television performances and years later via social media, it became culture a classic.

The subtle irony here is this: Celentano imitates American English but empties it of all meaning. He presents the seemingly magical sound of cultural imperialism as an empty shell. And as we watch that shell, we laugh and play along—yet shiver slightly:

“Have I really been admiring such empty things for so long?

Moreover, precisely because of its meaninglessness, this song has become part of the American-centered pop culture universe. That is, the system successfully absorbs even its own satirical products and rebrands them!

“Tu Vuo’ Fa’ L’Americano,” released in 1956, is a musical slap to the postwar Italian admiration for America. Renato Carosone portrays Italian youths in the streets of Naples who dress like Americans, drink whiskey, and dance boogie-woogie. The song’s title can be roughly translated as “You Want to Be American” or more colloquially, “You’re Trying to Be American.”

Carosone does not speak as a preacher judging this character, but as a friend who joins in: “You want to be cool, you’re doing rock’n roll, you play baseball… But who pays for your Camels? Your mother!”

The song reveals how the American costume is imposed on a reality grounded in local economic conditions. This track exposes another dimension of cultural imperialism.

A foreign state of “cool” entirely detached from one’s own language, local life, and economic circumstances… While Celentano empties out the sound of American English, Carosone empties out the imitation of American-style living.

One plays with language, the other with behavior; yet both ask the same question:

“Who do you really want to be?”

Research on youth in Türkiye shows how deeply American pop culture influences young people’s daily lives, language, and sense of identity. It is clear that Turkish youth not only consume American pop culture intensely but also develop their own humor, critiques, and local adaptations in response to it.

On one hand, young people watch American TV series in its original language and incorporate English words into their everyday speech. On the other hand, they remix this culture through local jokes, social media language, and Turkish songs.

From this perspective, what is happening today in Türkiye is not a one-way “absorption” but rather a hybridization.

Perhaps somewhere inside us, there is also a voice saying:

“Now you want to be ‘someone’… But the real question is, who are you?”

I believe a large part of “Prisencolinensinainciusol”’s success lies in its complete meaninglessness… The song demonstrates how powerful sounds that have no meaning but still feel “American” when heard can be. Celentano’s game captures cultural imperialism at its core: Sometimes, it is not meaning but merely the “American tone” that suffices.

“Tu Vuo’ Fa’ L’Americano,” by mocking youth obsession with American flair, compels us to reflect on our own lives: How many of us, after all, strive to adopt images that contradict our own economic and social realities, dressing ourselves in their costumes?

These two songs offer not a furious manifesto against cultural imperialism, but rather a meaningless, danceable, humorous, and memorable act of resistance. Perhaps it is precisely for this reason that they are so effective.

Because today, cultural imperialism is as much a daily experience on the dance floor, on TikTok, on YouTube, and in mall corridors as it is an abstract concept discussed in academic papers.

Continue to believe that you are not a consumer of culture, but often merely its playback artist.

So, say Hello!

Dance to these songs, have fun; please don’t laugh—but...

A big “hello” to cultural imperialism, and to the meaningless, humorous, musical, hybrid, and wildly colorful acts of resistance we have produced against it.

^{A surreal image representing cultural imperialism. (Generated by artificial intelligence.)}