The Fools, They've Gone Too Far!
Enough is ENOUGH!Have you seen the commercial for Colonial Penn? I can’t find it on YouTube, but if you watched it you’d probably need a double dose of Metamucil just from the sheer AARP vibes radiating off of it. Two old ladies are sitting at a kitchen table, watching a miniature TV, when a commercial for Colonial Penn comes on, featuring Jeopardy!’s Alex Trebeck. “Oh!” One of the women says. “This is the commercial I told you about!” They proceed to watch the commercial while periodically discussing what a great deal on senior citizen life insurance Colonial Penn gives. It’s like an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000, only they took out the funny parts and replaced them with the sort of story you’d probably hear from your grandma (“So Edna and I were scrapbooking the other day and you’d never believe it, we saw a commercial with that nice man from the Jeopardy show! Did you know that he was Canadian?”). I’m all in favor of spicing up advertising, either with better writing or boobs (I’m not picky) but Colonial Penn has failed to meet my rather exacting standards. I think a good commercial is a memorable commercial, one that brings something interesting and lively to the table. Instead, I’m sitting around watching TV, on which two old ladies are sitting around watching TV. It’s the lamest infinity money can buy.
Of course, it serves me right for complaining about one commercial within a commercial, because not half an hour later did I see something so horrendous that it drove me to my feet so I could shout, “This is so going in the blog!” In yon commercial, we can finally find conclusive proof that corporations have given up on even trying to hide their desire for our delicious, delicious money. What starts out as a trailer for yet another sub-par movie featuring my man Samuel L. Jackson morphs seamlessly into a commercial for computer-TV interfaces, to Windows Vista, to a plug for Serena Williams, to a plug for Andre3000 (whose hit groove “Hey Ya” puts him ahead of the other 2999 Andres as far as I’m concerned), to a preview of Serena Williams’ new tennis video game, to a plug for her new line of designer clothing, and then back to a trailer for yet another sub par movie hoofidy ploofidy blah blah Samuel L. Jackson.
Here’s what I think happened: Some ad exec read my blog and noticed that it’s very easy to get me ranting about commercials and greater American consumerism, and decided that he was going to provoke me by making God’s gift to capitalist whoredom: a promotion of a tennis star and recording artist wrapped in a thin layer of software advertisement, all of this rolled up in a flaky movie trailer crust and crammed between two freshly baked slices of greed. Granted, most things are better in sandwich form (e.g. ice cream), but this is ridiculous! It’s not enough that we’re subjected to advertisements on buildings and buses or in newspapers, magazines, books, movie theaters, on our food packaging, on certain beaches in New Jersey, on T-shirts, and in movies, but now we’re seeing advertisements inside other advertisements! It’s like opening a 7-11 in a 7-11! I don’t suppose I should have expected much from the society that put cameras in their phones and movies on their iPods* and Thomas Kinkade galleries in places where people with brains can be offended by them.
*David Lynch thinks it’s “such a fucking sadness” to watch a movie on an iPod. Coincidentally, I think it’s a pretty big sadness to make me sit through two and a half hours of Mulholland Drive for one measly lesbian scene. I said good day!
But, I mean, really? Is this how we’re playing now, Mass Media? If I saw this sort of crap on Futurama I’d give it a very hearty laugh! The thought of a commercial so long that it warrants its own flippin’ commercial just naturally lends itself to either lighthearted comedy or consumerism-run-amok tragedy. Now that we’ve crossed this line, the line of ‘easy now, lads, one commercial per commercial’, all bets are off. What’s next, taping video billboards to barnyard animals? Product placements during church services? Something… Something with poop? Like, poop based… Poop advertising? It may sound juvenile, but remember, people, they aired an ad within an ad within an ad within a movie trailer! They’re calling all the shots! They’ve captured our bridge! John Doe has control of the game!
It’s no secret that the only reason anybody puts up the money for cultural edification the likes of 30 Rock is because they want to sell advertising between shots of Tina Fey’s beautiful face and razor sharp wit. I suppose that with television experiencing such a revolution in quality, what with the Heroes and the Lost and the Desperate Housewives and the My Name Is Earl and the CSI and the The Office, that commercials would have to pull something crafty to keep up. Maybe that’s how the universe stays in balance - every time the forces of creativity do something awesome, the forces of consumerism have to pull up alongside them to keep things in check, kind of like that writer’s strike dealio that I can’t talk about without grabbing my sock full of batteries and looking for the nearest MBA. So maybe one day they will bring back Firefly, and they’ll show new episodes seven days a week, but in return we’ll all be forced to receive a permanent IV of Cherry Chocolate Diet Dr. Pepper.
Truman Capps doesn’t think that adding more adjectives to the name of your soda will make it any better.
Of course, it serves me right for complaining about one commercial within a commercial, because not half an hour later did I see something so horrendous that it drove me to my feet so I could shout, “This is so going in the blog!” In yon commercial, we can finally find conclusive proof that corporations have given up on even trying to hide their desire for our delicious, delicious money. What starts out as a trailer for yet another sub-par movie featuring my man Samuel L. Jackson morphs seamlessly into a commercial for computer-TV interfaces, to Windows Vista, to a plug for Serena Williams, to a plug for Andre3000 (whose hit groove “Hey Ya” puts him ahead of the other 2999 Andres as far as I’m concerned), to a preview of Serena Williams’ new tennis video game, to a plug for her new line of designer clothing, and then back to a trailer for yet another sub par movie hoofidy ploofidy blah blah Samuel L. Jackson.
Here’s what I think happened: Some ad exec read my blog and noticed that it’s very easy to get me ranting about commercials and greater American consumerism, and decided that he was going to provoke me by making God’s gift to capitalist whoredom: a promotion of a tennis star and recording artist wrapped in a thin layer of software advertisement, all of this rolled up in a flaky movie trailer crust and crammed between two freshly baked slices of greed. Granted, most things are better in sandwich form (e.g. ice cream), but this is ridiculous! It’s not enough that we’re subjected to advertisements on buildings and buses or in newspapers, magazines, books, movie theaters, on our food packaging, on certain beaches in New Jersey, on T-shirts, and in movies, but now we’re seeing advertisements inside other advertisements! It’s like opening a 7-11 in a 7-11! I don’t suppose I should have expected much from the society that put cameras in their phones and movies on their iPods* and Thomas Kinkade galleries in places where people with brains can be offended by them.
*David Lynch thinks it’s “such a fucking sadness” to watch a movie on an iPod. Coincidentally, I think it’s a pretty big sadness to make me sit through two and a half hours of Mulholland Drive for one measly lesbian scene. I said good day!
But, I mean, really? Is this how we’re playing now, Mass Media? If I saw this sort of crap on Futurama I’d give it a very hearty laugh! The thought of a commercial so long that it warrants its own flippin’ commercial just naturally lends itself to either lighthearted comedy or consumerism-run-amok tragedy. Now that we’ve crossed this line, the line of ‘easy now, lads, one commercial per commercial’, all bets are off. What’s next, taping video billboards to barnyard animals? Product placements during church services? Something… Something with poop? Like, poop based… Poop advertising? It may sound juvenile, but remember, people, they aired an ad within an ad within an ad within a movie trailer! They’re calling all the shots! They’ve captured our bridge! John Doe has control of the game!
It’s no secret that the only reason anybody puts up the money for cultural edification the likes of 30 Rock is because they want to sell advertising between shots of Tina Fey’s beautiful face and razor sharp wit. I suppose that with television experiencing such a revolution in quality, what with the Heroes and the Lost and the Desperate Housewives and the My Name Is Earl and the CSI and the The Office, that commercials would have to pull something crafty to keep up. Maybe that’s how the universe stays in balance - every time the forces of creativity do something awesome, the forces of consumerism have to pull up alongside them to keep things in check, kind of like that writer’s strike dealio that I can’t talk about without grabbing my sock full of batteries and looking for the nearest MBA. So maybe one day they will bring back Firefly, and they’ll show new episodes seven days a week, but in return we’ll all be forced to receive a permanent IV of Cherry Chocolate Diet Dr. Pepper.
Truman Capps doesn’t think that adding more adjectives to the name of your soda will make it any better.