Look, I don't like the idea of paying for checked baggage. I think it's a real pound-foolish way for airlines to try to squeeze every last buck out of the flying public. Maybe it's because of the sticker shock- we went from No Fees to $25 or more per bag, virtually overnight. Or maybe it's because of the behavior the extra fee has created- hordes of self-absorbed jackasses trying to jam every manner of garment bag, suitcase, dufflebag and What Have You into the overhead compartment or the seat in front of them, leaving you to stand like an idiot in the aisle wondering if you are going to be allowed to get to your seat before the plane starts to roll (Seriously- the things some people think are appropriate "carry-ons"....Jesus.....)
But I think I would rather pay the extra charge than have the type of people Southwest Airlines apparently employs handling my bags for free. In one commercial, we are supposed to think it's funny that a few of them are reminiscing about their favorite bags, and moaning how sad it is to see them fly off to parts unknown (the commercial is supposed to make us think "Sentimental, Funny." I can't help but think "Pathetic, Loser.") In the one I just saw, these bottom-feeders are competing for the title of Biggest Moron in the Airport by yelling "FREE! FREE! Bags fly FREE!" and laughing like little children in the process. One guy even "sings" "Frreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!" (He should meet the Maxwell House "Freeeeeeesssssshhhh!" jackass.)
I thought the "It's On" campaign was bad enough (one of the "Its On" commercials features everyone's favorite frequent flier, the It's All About Me businessman who doesn't shut his laptop and board the plane until the last possible second, holding the rest of us lesser mortals up with his asshattery.) But these are worse, because they want us to think it's charming to watch underpaid unskilled labor perform like trained seals while celebrating the decisions passed down from Corporate and which benefit them not the slightest.
If I want to watch impoverished cogs in an industrial machine blather on about how great "their" company is, I'll pay more attention to those Honey Bunches of O's commercials, where all the workers sit around spending half their days eating the cereal they "supervise" as it's poured into boxes. Ugh.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Thank You, Makers of DJ Hero
I want to take a moment to thank the good people who worked painstakingly to create the newest Lets Pretend to Play Guitar video game, DJ Hero, which (if I get the gist of it) sets up a "contest" between various rap artists.
I'm not thanking them for creating a game which is sure to instill upon the players a strong love of music. Because seriously, I don't see this happening.
I'm not thanking them for encouraging kids to learn a musical instrument. Because I've played "Guitar Hero" before, and know that learning how to push the right buttons at the right time has only the tiniest relation to learning to play guitar chords. In fact, I shake my head sadly at the realization that every minute, ever hour some doofus kid "practices" at "playing" the "guitar" is time that could have been spent engaged in the enriching experience of actually learning to play a real guitar. Or some other musical instrument.
I can't quite bring myself to thank them for once again proving the power of effective advertising. I mean, think about it: hundreds of millions of dollars in sales of a game which is essentially air guitar, except with a plastic non-musical instrument and cartoons on a tv screen. Talk about the triumph of consumerism.
I'm sure not thanking them for providing yet another excuse for obese technology-obsessed losers to stay indoors on even the nicest days, enjoying their Wal-Mart provided fantasy world while their actual lives gradually slip away.
No, I'm not thanking the makers of DJ Hero for any of these things. But they deserve my gratification anyway, so I'll make it brief: Thank You, Makers of DJ Hero, for not releasing this game until the worthless, thoughtless, clueless moron who used to live in my apartment building finally got his sorry ass tossed. Because at least when the mood struck him to play Guitar Hero at 4 AM (which was, on average, three times a week) at least the music usually wasn't unbearably bad. If I had to listen to Jay Z and Eminem "competing" off-key at high volume, I think I'd lose it.
I'm not thanking them for creating a game which is sure to instill upon the players a strong love of music. Because seriously, I don't see this happening.
I'm not thanking them for encouraging kids to learn a musical instrument. Because I've played "Guitar Hero" before, and know that learning how to push the right buttons at the right time has only the tiniest relation to learning to play guitar chords. In fact, I shake my head sadly at the realization that every minute, ever hour some doofus kid "practices" at "playing" the "guitar" is time that could have been spent engaged in the enriching experience of actually learning to play a real guitar. Or some other musical instrument.
I can't quite bring myself to thank them for once again proving the power of effective advertising. I mean, think about it: hundreds of millions of dollars in sales of a game which is essentially air guitar, except with a plastic non-musical instrument and cartoons on a tv screen. Talk about the triumph of consumerism.
I'm sure not thanking them for providing yet another excuse for obese technology-obsessed losers to stay indoors on even the nicest days, enjoying their Wal-Mart provided fantasy world while their actual lives gradually slip away.
No, I'm not thanking the makers of DJ Hero for any of these things. But they deserve my gratification anyway, so I'll make it brief: Thank You, Makers of DJ Hero, for not releasing this game until the worthless, thoughtless, clueless moron who used to live in my apartment building finally got his sorry ass tossed. Because at least when the mood struck him to play Guitar Hero at 4 AM (which was, on average, three times a week) at least the music usually wasn't unbearably bad. If I had to listen to Jay Z and Eminem "competing" off-key at high volume, I think I'd lose it.
Friday, November 13, 2009
I'm Ready to do Anything but Exercise and Eat Right
"If I lost the weight, maybe I wouldn't have to take so many medications" says one woman.
"If I lost the weight, maybe my back and knees wouldn't hurt so much" some guy tells us.
"If I lost the weight, I could run around with my grandkids" another woman adds.
What are they talking about? Why, how for many, many years they've longed to get rid of that spare tire wrapped around their hips. And now, after years of dithering and wishing, they are going to DO something about it.
What are they going to do? Join a gym and exercise something other than their gums and texting digits? Cut out salty and sugary snacks? Add fruits and vegetables to their diet? Stop guzzling soda and juice drinks? Get off the couch and take a daily walk?
Nope- when we hear each person in turn confidently tell us that "I'm ready," what they mean is "I'm ready to have a 'minimally invasive procedure to place an adjustable (by WHOM?) silicone band around the upper part of my stomach, so I can feel full without overeating."
According to the website, the band "creates a pouch without permanently altering any organs." Oh well, that's good news, at least. But seriously, it's bad enough that millions of people think that they are one exercise machine purchase, one set of pills, or one insanely dangerous diet away from losing weight. Now they are being told that they are one simple, safe and "minimally invasive" surgery away from looking like those models in the magazines. Funny how Quick-Fix messages will always drown out doctors and common sense, which have been telling us for decades that the only way to safely and permanently lose weight is to affect a lifestyle adjustment and introduce your body to regular servings of fruits, vegetables and exercise.
Clearly there exists a massive population of people who are willing to eat up these quick fixes (no pun intended) yet jam their fingers in their ears and chant "can't hear you, can't hear you" when reminded about the exercise and diet thing. The snake oil and surgery salesmen who sell the miracle cures are, I'm sure, eternally grateful for them.
(How DO you "adjust" a band wrapped around your stomach, again?)
"If I lost the weight, maybe my back and knees wouldn't hurt so much" some guy tells us.
"If I lost the weight, I could run around with my grandkids" another woman adds.
What are they talking about? Why, how for many, many years they've longed to get rid of that spare tire wrapped around their hips. And now, after years of dithering and wishing, they are going to DO something about it.
What are they going to do? Join a gym and exercise something other than their gums and texting digits? Cut out salty and sugary snacks? Add fruits and vegetables to their diet? Stop guzzling soda and juice drinks? Get off the couch and take a daily walk?
Nope- when we hear each person in turn confidently tell us that "I'm ready," what they mean is "I'm ready to have a 'minimally invasive procedure to place an adjustable (by WHOM?) silicone band around the upper part of my stomach, so I can feel full without overeating."
According to the website, the band "creates a pouch without permanently altering any organs." Oh well, that's good news, at least. But seriously, it's bad enough that millions of people think that they are one exercise machine purchase, one set of pills, or one insanely dangerous diet away from losing weight. Now they are being told that they are one simple, safe and "minimally invasive" surgery away from looking like those models in the magazines. Funny how Quick-Fix messages will always drown out doctors and common sense, which have been telling us for decades that the only way to safely and permanently lose weight is to affect a lifestyle adjustment and introduce your body to regular servings of fruits, vegetables and exercise.
Clearly there exists a massive population of people who are willing to eat up these quick fixes (no pun intended) yet jam their fingers in their ears and chant "can't hear you, can't hear you" when reminded about the exercise and diet thing. The snake oil and surgery salesmen who sell the miracle cures are, I'm sure, eternally grateful for them.
(How DO you "adjust" a band wrapped around your stomach, again?)
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The Ford F-150: Sure You'll Kill Somebody, but you'll be fine!
Every once in a while, I see a commercial that makes me really, REALLY angry. Here's one from our friends at Ford:
"...Because you're going to eat a Cheeseburger while you drive...." (we see our typical twentysomething asshole jamming food into his face and paying only the most casual "attention" to the road he's cruising down.)
"....Because you are going to talk on your cellphone while you drive...." (we see the same guy blathering away on the little box jammed up against his cheek, barreling down the highway without a care in the world.)
".....we've introduced the Ford F-150, the Safest Truck in the World." The Ford F-150 has a massive, heavy steel skeleton, drivers and passenger side air bags, blah blah blah.
Oh, that's awesome. So no worries for this prick- he's going to mow down someone in a lesser car while tweeting that he just passed Exit 30B on the Beltway, but he'll be just fine. He'll sideswipe a van while trying to dig out the last french fry from the bottom of the bag, but he'll be unscathed, thanks to that awesome heavy steel cage he's got surrounding his precious self. And the people he kills through his self-centered cluelessness? Well, they should have bought a Ford F-150 or stayed the hell off the highway, I guess (It IS Ford Truck Month, you know.)
Great message, Ford-- Go ahead and drive like a clueless prick who owns the road. You won't suffer any physical consequences if you do it in this reinforced tank. That cry of terror you heard as you bounced your Ford Fuckmobile off the Honda trying to pass? Don't worry your empty little head about it.
"It's crazy out there," the commercial concludes. It sure is, Ford. And you are not helping.
"...Because you're going to eat a Cheeseburger while you drive...." (we see our typical twentysomething asshole jamming food into his face and paying only the most casual "attention" to the road he's cruising down.)
"....Because you are going to talk on your cellphone while you drive...." (we see the same guy blathering away on the little box jammed up against his cheek, barreling down the highway without a care in the world.)
".....we've introduced the Ford F-150, the Safest Truck in the World." The Ford F-150 has a massive, heavy steel skeleton, drivers and passenger side air bags, blah blah blah.
Oh, that's awesome. So no worries for this prick- he's going to mow down someone in a lesser car while tweeting that he just passed Exit 30B on the Beltway, but he'll be just fine. He'll sideswipe a van while trying to dig out the last french fry from the bottom of the bag, but he'll be unscathed, thanks to that awesome heavy steel cage he's got surrounding his precious self. And the people he kills through his self-centered cluelessness? Well, they should have bought a Ford F-150 or stayed the hell off the highway, I guess (It IS Ford Truck Month, you know.)
Great message, Ford-- Go ahead and drive like a clueless prick who owns the road. You won't suffer any physical consequences if you do it in this reinforced tank. That cry of terror you heard as you bounced your Ford Fuckmobile off the Honda trying to pass? Don't worry your empty little head about it.
"It's crazy out there," the commercial concludes. It sure is, Ford. And you are not helping.
The Garmin Nuvi Phone and Blackberry: United Together to Destroy Civilization
As anyone who has been reading this blog for any time at all knows, Cell Phone commercials are the bane of my existence. I think that most people who own and use cell phones are already clueless, inconsiderate assholes, but if they behave the way they are told they should behave by cell phone commercials, I think it will be time for Western Civilization to basically call it a day.
Garmin has gotten into the biz with it's Nuvi phone. I like Garmin- I have a Forerunner for my wrist to wear when I hike (Harpers Ferry this weekend- amazing weather and views!) and a Nuvi in my car because my sense of direction is, frankly, pitiful. But the way they sell their phone is just repulsive- squeaky, way-too-excited girl tells us "with my Nuvi, everywhere I go, I feel like a local!" (because she can get maps on her phone.) Personally, I don't want to feel like a "local" when I go to a new place. I think finding my way around someplace new is kind of cool. But that's just me. But even worse- "With my Nuvi, I can talk to my friends as I go to meet them!" (because she can touch a button on her car unit and talk hands-free. Gee, thats super. Because you should never, ever shut your hole for even a moment if you can avoid it.) Thanks to the Garmin Nuvi Phone, you can stare at a screen with a map on it instead of taking in the local sights, and you can gab aimlessly with your friends as you drive. Thanks, Garmin.
And this new Blackberry? "Kim has the unlimited calling plan for her family, so now her son can talk all day." SUPER!!! What a great selling point for Kim, or ANY mom out there! Get a phone which allows your kid to TALK ALL DAY! Because know what he's doing now? Unless he's one of those Milky Minutes pricks who don't care what Mommy's phone bill is, he's being deprived of his God-given right to blather and text away his life. Hell, he might even be playing sports or taking walks or having conversations with people who are actually in the same room! Thank God Kim is fixing the situation by getting a plan that lets her kid talk all day! I hope that kid is in my car on Amtrak when I take my 13-hour trip to Vermont next month for the holidays, and he's more interesting than the woman across the aisle from me last year, who called three different people and told them all about her intestinal issues and her strawberry-and-yogurt diet!
Thanks, Garmin and Blackberry, for speeding up the process of turning our country into a nation of pathetic, inconsiderate, self-important losers by encouraging them to spend their days giving themselves brain cancer (please oh please oh please) with their electronic security blankets. I hope the money helps break the fall when you decend to the innermost ring of hell.
Garmin has gotten into the biz with it's Nuvi phone. I like Garmin- I have a Forerunner for my wrist to wear when I hike (Harpers Ferry this weekend- amazing weather and views!) and a Nuvi in my car because my sense of direction is, frankly, pitiful. But the way they sell their phone is just repulsive- squeaky, way-too-excited girl tells us "with my Nuvi, everywhere I go, I feel like a local!" (because she can get maps on her phone.) Personally, I don't want to feel like a "local" when I go to a new place. I think finding my way around someplace new is kind of cool. But that's just me. But even worse- "With my Nuvi, I can talk to my friends as I go to meet them!" (because she can touch a button on her car unit and talk hands-free. Gee, thats super. Because you should never, ever shut your hole for even a moment if you can avoid it.) Thanks to the Garmin Nuvi Phone, you can stare at a screen with a map on it instead of taking in the local sights, and you can gab aimlessly with your friends as you drive. Thanks, Garmin.
And this new Blackberry? "Kim has the unlimited calling plan for her family, so now her son can talk all day." SUPER!!! What a great selling point for Kim, or ANY mom out there! Get a phone which allows your kid to TALK ALL DAY! Because know what he's doing now? Unless he's one of those Milky Minutes pricks who don't care what Mommy's phone bill is, he's being deprived of his God-given right to blather and text away his life. Hell, he might even be playing sports or taking walks or having conversations with people who are actually in the same room! Thank God Kim is fixing the situation by getting a plan that lets her kid talk all day! I hope that kid is in my car on Amtrak when I take my 13-hour trip to Vermont next month for the holidays, and he's more interesting than the woman across the aisle from me last year, who called three different people and told them all about her intestinal issues and her strawberry-and-yogurt diet!
Thanks, Garmin and Blackberry, for speeding up the process of turning our country into a nation of pathetic, inconsiderate, self-important losers by encouraging them to spend their days giving themselves brain cancer (please oh please oh please) with their electronic security blankets. I hope the money helps break the fall when you decend to the innermost ring of hell.
Be a Man! Buy a Truck!
If you watch football on Sundays, you probably already know that it's GMC Truck Month. In fact, by my reckoning, we are entering the sixth week or so of GMC Truck Month. To be fair, it's entirely possible that I'm confusing Ford Truck Month with GMC Truck Month- perhaps they overlap? But to tell you the truth, I rarely remember what truck I just saw plow across my screen, let alone the company that built it.
Here's what I do notice- that buying a truck is all about Being an American Male. It's not just Denis Leary's voice sneering that it's time to put down the fricking protractor, Poindexter, and get yourself into one of these behemouths. It's not just Howie Long nodding condescendingly at Not Quite Masculine Enough Lesser Truck Owner as he attempts to use his truck's "man-step." It's the constant To Hell With You and Your Girly Planet, Pansy imagery that adorns all these commercials- the crashing through forests and streams, the leaping small canyons in the desert, and the apparently endless search for mud to spatter all over these oversized monsters.
And if the connection between blatant maleness and dirty trucks isn't obvious enough, not to worry- virtually every other scene is something heavy and filthy being dropped from five feet or so (WHY? Why can't the battleship engine, shipment of lead pipes, or pallet of Big Greasy Things be placed into the truck bed instead of dropped?) accompanied by a spray of dirt and oil into the screen. In case you STILL aren't convinced, stay tuned as dirt-encrusted men emphatically clap their filthy gloved hands together, slam doors to create clouds of dust (whenever I see this I wonder, Why are these guys pissed at their trucks?) and grin at us through coats of grime on their lined, determined-to-do-something-manly faces.
I don't get it. What does buying a truck in order to wreck its shocks and cover it in filth have to do with being a man? Are there really a lot of guys out there who need trucks with "sufficient payload?" (oh, if only Freud were here to deal with THAT claim.) Whenever I see one of these trucks on the road, it's being driven by a guy in a suit, and it's so clean it gleams. I wouldn't even know WHERE to take a truck to give it its required coat of gunk. Would I be expected to mix up mud in my back yard and just douse it before heading off to Office Depot to buy a truckload of heavy stuff?
And is GMC Truck Month going to end sometime before Christmas?
Here's what I do notice- that buying a truck is all about Being an American Male. It's not just Denis Leary's voice sneering that it's time to put down the fricking protractor, Poindexter, and get yourself into one of these behemouths. It's not just Howie Long nodding condescendingly at Not Quite Masculine Enough Lesser Truck Owner as he attempts to use his truck's "man-step." It's the constant To Hell With You and Your Girly Planet, Pansy imagery that adorns all these commercials- the crashing through forests and streams, the leaping small canyons in the desert, and the apparently endless search for mud to spatter all over these oversized monsters.
And if the connection between blatant maleness and dirty trucks isn't obvious enough, not to worry- virtually every other scene is something heavy and filthy being dropped from five feet or so (WHY? Why can't the battleship engine, shipment of lead pipes, or pallet of Big Greasy Things be placed into the truck bed instead of dropped?) accompanied by a spray of dirt and oil into the screen. In case you STILL aren't convinced, stay tuned as dirt-encrusted men emphatically clap their filthy gloved hands together, slam doors to create clouds of dust (whenever I see this I wonder, Why are these guys pissed at their trucks?) and grin at us through coats of grime on their lined, determined-to-do-something-manly faces.
I don't get it. What does buying a truck in order to wreck its shocks and cover it in filth have to do with being a man? Are there really a lot of guys out there who need trucks with "sufficient payload?" (oh, if only Freud were here to deal with THAT claim.) Whenever I see one of these trucks on the road, it's being driven by a guy in a suit, and it's so clean it gleams. I wouldn't even know WHERE to take a truck to give it its required coat of gunk. Would I be expected to mix up mud in my back yard and just douse it before heading off to Office Depot to buy a truckload of heavy stuff?
And is GMC Truck Month going to end sometime before Christmas?
Saturday, November 7, 2009
To Own One is to Love One?
"My mom, she has one..."
"My sister."
"My next door neighbor has one..."
"My nephew got one last year, when he went away to college."
What are all these people talking about? Why, the people they know who own a Honda, of course. Well, that's all very nice- they know people who own Hondas. So what?
Narrator: "Everyone knows someone who loves a Honda..."
Um, excuse me? I didn't hear anyone say they knew someone who "loves" a Honda. I heard people say they knew someone who OWNS a Honda. Why is that the same thing?
I own a Honda because they are inexpensive and reliable. My parents own a Honda, as does one of my brothers, and my niece. I'm pretty happy with my car, and so are my relatives. When it's time to replace my car, will I buy another Honda? Yeah, probably- my last car was a Honda, and I'm satisfied with the performance, gas mileage and (for the most part) upkeep costs. Would I consider buying another brand? I guess- though my preference would be for another Honda.
Do I love my Honda? Well, no. The interior noise is loud, and I had to replace the clutch after only 65,000 miles. Besides, it's a car. I don't love cars. But as far as Honda is concerned, because I own one, I must love one, I guess.
Hey Honda- you make a good product. It's very popular in this country. Congratulations. Be happy with your success in the marketplace, and don't stick words in our mouths, ok? Leave that to the Health Care Industry, which thinks that if you have health insurance, you are "happy" with your coverage. Ok?
"My sister."
"My next door neighbor has one..."
"My nephew got one last year, when he went away to college."
What are all these people talking about? Why, the people they know who own a Honda, of course. Well, that's all very nice- they know people who own Hondas. So what?
Narrator: "Everyone knows someone who loves a Honda..."
Um, excuse me? I didn't hear anyone say they knew someone who "loves" a Honda. I heard people say they knew someone who OWNS a Honda. Why is that the same thing?
I own a Honda because they are inexpensive and reliable. My parents own a Honda, as does one of my brothers, and my niece. I'm pretty happy with my car, and so are my relatives. When it's time to replace my car, will I buy another Honda? Yeah, probably- my last car was a Honda, and I'm satisfied with the performance, gas mileage and (for the most part) upkeep costs. Would I consider buying another brand? I guess- though my preference would be for another Honda.
Do I love my Honda? Well, no. The interior noise is loud, and I had to replace the clutch after only 65,000 miles. Besides, it's a car. I don't love cars. But as far as Honda is concerned, because I own one, I must love one, I guess.
Hey Honda- you make a good product. It's very popular in this country. Congratulations. Be happy with your success in the marketplace, and don't stick words in our mouths, ok? Leave that to the Health Care Industry, which thinks that if you have health insurance, you are "happy" with your coverage. Ok?
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