Advertising, like poetry, is the daughter of memory. For every brand created an English word dies. The Eskimo is said to have 40 words for snow. Venus, Mars, Apollo - how poor the Pantheon seems. We lobby to protect the snail darter.
Bad money drives out good.
Hoard old words as you would gold coins in a financial bubble. Await the eventual crash. Some day you will be able to buy 100,000 hours of prime time advertising for one inscription by Alexander Pope. Poetry is spin in behalf of causes remote from wealth and power. Well made lies pro bono publico.