Amy the Amazon Kindle Sprite lives on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Which is in downtown Karachi.

Before I get to Amy and the sad shipwreck that is her life, I just have to spend a moment snarking on the concept of a "Mayday Button" on the new Kindle Fire.  I mean, jeeesh....I have an old-fashioned Kindle, with e-ink and no color.  Doesn't sound familiar?  It's for reading books.  Still doesn't sound familiar? Sigh....

Anyway, my lame, black and white non-TV streaming Kindle doesn't have a Mayday button because it doesn't need one.  What Kindle is telling me here is that their new version is so damned complicated, it has to include what is in effect a panic button that puts the owner in contact with a grinning zombie eager to guide you around your new little toy, You Clueless Dumbfuck Why Don't You Just Ask One Of Your Kids To Help You?

Ok, enough of whole "Mayday Button" thing- is Amy the Kindle Sprite related to the Magic State Farm Insurance Genie? Because if those ads are at all realistic, it means that there is an army of Eternally Happy to Be Of Service At A Moment's Notice women just waiting to be summoned by clueless morons who Need Help Right Now.   Anyone else think that the instantaneous appearance of Amy is more than a little disturbing?  What was she doing before this guy pushed that Mayday button?  Staring at a blank screen, wishing some drooling moron would rub the Kindle in just the right way and summon her from her freaking bottle?

Come to think of it, Kindle and State Farm aren't the only commercials which sell the idea that there is an entire population of people out there just waiting to fly to our assistance whenever we are befuddled by anything for more than a few seconds.  There are those Lincoln Concierge ads, where all one has to do is stare lustfully at a particular car to have someone magically materialize in front of you to explain how awesome it is an book a test drive.  There's those spots for OnStar which feature disembodied voices thrilled to death to have the opportunity to book reservations and buy flowers for thoughtless moron buttmunches who are simply too busy to remember to do that shit for themselves.  The message is pretty clear- if you've got money, you are a button-push away from getting some drone sitting in a cubicle to wipe your nose for you.

So my question is- who the hell are these people who respond to the pushing of buttons labeled "OnStar" or "Chat with an Agent" or "Mayday?" What happened in their lives to drive them to being handmaidens for loathsomely clueless fucktards who can't be bothered to read a manual (or a website) or anything else if hey, look, here's someone who will do it for me?  Do they ever think about it?  Do they dream of being on the other end of that button some day?  Or are they just grateful to be picking up a paycheck?

Oh, and one more thing- come on, seriously.  Amy- and all the other "click here to talk to someone right now" minions- live on the other side of the planet, right?  Like in Pakistan?  And they don't look at all like Amy, do they?  Much darker and significantly less blonde?  And there's nothing about their paycheck that justifies this level of giddiness- am I right?