"It's about making a great ad–the association being not with Vietnam but with a laugh, a smile, that all comes from your headphones," she tells her client, whose campaign must be reworked after it becomes the butt of a Vietnam War joke.
Joan has finally weaned herself from Roger; she is notably absent from the fallout over his mother's death. And Megan—ever the exhibitionist as she dances with her Hawaiian host—has regained her self-confidence as her television career takes off. (She is a long way from the crying episodes after Don wouldn't feature her in his ads).
"Mad Men" tells the story of the 1960s, or as the Atlantic's Richard Lawson said in his review, when the American dream got ill. If this is the decade that put us to the path of "The End of the Men," it is fitting then, that in its penultimate season (at least as Weiner claims), "Mad Men's" ad men are stuck, staring down their demise. "We sold actual death for 25 years with Lucky Strike. You know how we did it? We ignored it," Roger tells Don.
They aren't ignoring it any longer.