CitiBank again captures the spirit of the times

We've all been here, haven't we? Our Precious Ryan had a hard time learning French, so his mommy did the only natural thing- sent him to France for school! Of course, I mean, what else would she do? Hire a (snigger, condescend) TUTOR?

And it worked out so well- when Our Ryan decided he wanted to make an impulse buy, Mommy was able to instantly transfer funds to his account via CitiBank. Oh thank goodness THAT crisis was averted quickly. We all know what a pain it is to get much "needed" funds into the pockets of our pathetically over-indulged children now don't we?

When this kid isn't enjoying the almost unlimited determination of his parents to give Their Precious Ryan each and every little thing he happens to want at the moment, he's being distracted by cute girls in class- girls who can smell "mommy's Citibank Account" in the pockets of pampered little American snots from a mile away.

"I hope the language barrier isn't too much of a problem" muses Mommy (or something like that- please don't make me watch this again to confirm.) Oh don't worry, Mommy- I'm sure that Ryan will pick up enough words to get himself in the sack before he crashes through your Available Credit Ceiling, if in fact you even have one.

I don't know what I hope for more as a sequel to this disgustingly clueless ad, which simultaneously asks us to appreciate Mommy's electronic apron strings AND her son's willingness to take advantage of her Anything For Our Ryan attitude. Is it Precious Ryan coming back home with an adorable new French Grandchild for Mommy? Is it the pampered little prick arriving back in the US harboring a delightfully European social disease (I'm sure the required shots can be purchased via credit card, and they DO have an awesome health care system over there.)

No, I'll go with Ryan deciding to follow his cute new girlfriend to a quaint little hostel in the Carpathian Mountains, where he learns that Mommy's Citibank card won't save him from three days of brutal torture at the hands of millionaire psychotics, ending with his entitled little head being used as a soccer ball. Hey, it could happen. I saw it in a movie once.

Avoid the court battle over who gets the rubber scissors

Here's a really bizarre family of overgrown children who apparently live in a dollhouse and who for some reason put off writing wills. Maybe it's because they couldn't decide who the parents were (they all seem to be about the same age- forty going on twelve) or what they could possibly list as assets, since their whole world seems to be made out of painted cardboard, construction paper and props.

When one of them decided it was time to make a will, they had the good sense to realize that hiring an attorney was a bad idea- there are relationship issues which are so twisted that they really ought to remain inside the three walls that make up the weird fantasy world some of us live in. So they "went to LegalZoom," which means they took preparing for the Great Journey into the Land Without Finger Paints about as seriously as they take everything else.

"We wrote our will...Finally!" is accompanied with a truly cringe-worthy mock-strangling (it's always funny to follow sober discussion of death with your son- or is that the father?- putting you in a headlock, isn't it?) and an even more uncomfortable burst of laughter. One of my biggest pet peeves in modern advertising- the unnecessary, unjustified laughter. We see it in Olive Garden commercials a lot, usually following some spectacularly mundane comment about endless pasta, but at least Olive Garden commercials aren't INTRINSICALLY about dying. WHAT is so funny about the Old Folks (again, all the "Vargos" look the same age to me) writing a will?

Anyway, these weird child/adult hybrid people are really, really odd. But who am I to judge- maybe I wouldn't be as Amazingly Normal as I am if I lived on the set of Barney.

It's even better than being there, because I get to use this shiny blinky thing

"My family always keeps me busy, so sometimes I forget to do things like lock the freaking door? Seriously? How pathetically helpless can one person get? And when I blame my family for my inability to perform simple tasks without the use of complicated electronics, don't I sound a lot like the woman in that luxury car commercial who starts the story of how she fell asleep at the wheel and nearly killed herself and the child in the back seat by explaining to the audience 'my son was fast asleep..?'"

"Isn't it time for me to just admit to myself that I don't really 'need' any of this Big Brother is Watching You crap, I just like to find ways to flush away money, especially ways that involve pushing little buttons and watching streaming video? I mean, for how long will my friends and coworkers buy the idea that I just don't feel safe unless I can check out the view from my screened porch while I'm supposed to be in a board meeting?"

"And while I'm at it, for how long am I going to be able to rationalize using 'the people I trust' to spy on the people I don't trust? I mean, my 16-year old daughter is already plenty pissed that she is being watched from the moment she enters the house to the moment I get home, and she's not buying the whole 'it's for your own safety, like the nice man on tv says' bit."

And how long will it be before parents everywhere are using this "service" to cut the childcare budget and just leave the "supervising" to these wonderful electronic eyes? After all, just KNOWING you can whip out your phone and glance at your front lawn, your garage and, time permitting, your unattended children is just so gosh-darned comforting, isn't it?

"My family always keeps me busy. Sometimes I have to check on them two, even three times a day. Thank goodness for modern technology."

Thank Goodness it's still the 19th Century Somewhere!

Ok, I think I get it now- Somehow, all these unrelated scenes featuring glassy-eyed idiots singing some tuneless piece of crap of a "song" form together to create a commercial for everybody's favorite corporate vulture, Arkansas-based but China-dependent Walmart. It took a while, and a few viewings, but now I understand that the message is that a gigantic box store dropped smack in the middle of what was once a nice little cornfield or park is exactly what we all need to make our lives a little bit better. Maybe it's the lead-based toys and brand name electronics. Maybe it's the deep discount clothing. Maybe it's the- oh hell, Walmart sells everything, so what's the point?

Here's the point: Walmart efficiently brings the fine work of 10 million Asian minors to your neighborhood, where it can all be found under one convenient roof. Thanks to Walmart, the regrettable abolition of slavery in the United States doesn't have to mean high prices. Slavery, after all, wasn't really abolished- it was just exported. For people without an imagination, that might be an obstacle. But not for the wonderful people at Walmart. Shop as if downtown New York is still America's sweatshop district- just because you can't smell the stench or see the exhausted, starving, desperately poor and utterly out of hope workers, doesn't mean they aren't there, working for You to provide all those Little Things which put a song in your heart and a cheap phone in your cart.

So hooray for Walmart for allowing us to buy just a little bit more, at no real social cost- at least, not any that we can see. Makes you feel all warm inside, doesn't it?

Look- it's bad enough that most Americans couldn't give a damn where all this cheap crap comes from, or even how Walmart sucks the life's blood out of communities by driving small stores out of business and depressing wages. But damn it, do we really need ads featuring people SINGING about a corporate monster which feeds like a tapeworm on innocent, helpless kids on the other side of the planet? Have we no shame at all?

Oh Goody, THESE Idiots Again

I guess "Washington" is back to talking about going all Nanny-Government on us again, because this organization with the hilariously misleading name "Americans Against Food Taxes" is treating us to another wave of commercials featuring oppressed, harassed mommies who just want the "politicians" to keep it's damn hands off of her purse so she can continue to blow the family payroll on "food" like soda, sports drinks, "even flavored water."

This time a real Tea Party element has been added to the script- whereas it used to be sufficient to "tell Washington we can't AFFORD to pay another 1.3 cents per liter for obesity-promoting sugar water," the Glenn Beck Brigade has upped the ante and now Americans Against Paying Extra For Stuff that Kills Us is throwing around words like "dictating" and and phrases like "we don't need the government telling us how to feed our families." After all, let's not forget that this government is currently being run by a Kenyan Marxist Anti-Nationalist American Exceptionalism Denier who still refuses to release his birth certificate (too busy apologizing to the world for America's surplus of fat children, no doubt.)

This woman isn't satisfied to sneer at "Washington"- she makes reference to "politicians" with a nasty little sneer I'm sure betokens a deep understanding of how our Constitutional system functions and a disgust at it's corruption by The Left, what with their Tell Everyone What To Do agenda. First they told me I couldn't keep driving my seatbelt-free 1964 Volkswagen Beetle. Then they told me I couldn't smoke next to babies on the plane. Now they want me to pay an extra nickel for a week's supply of sodium in a bottle. And all because it's for our "own good."

Can't Washington see that this woman doesn't need any help deciding how to spend her money on groceries? She's doing a great job making that tight budget dollar go a little farther and still keeping her family in Brand X ginger ale, Gatorade and "flavored water" (pardon the redundancy.) Now if this stereotype of a stuffed-suit, power-hungry politician will just step aside, she has to get this crap home to those mushrooms with legs that she calls her husband and kids. I mean, it's almost time for
Hannity.

Wow, this is just like what happened to me once! Oh wait, no it's not

Filthy-rich suburbanites who were probably hippies many, many years ago (before their souls died, or were sacrificed to Mammon) get the not-unwelcome news that the husband has been transferred to Istanbul. Unlike all those whiners who learn that their jobs have been outsourced to a phone bank in Pakistan and then- like the whiny, spoiled little brats they are, refuse to either follow it or agree to take that job as a Wal-Mart greeter that's just sitting there, Filthy-rich suburbanites take it all in stride.

Their pioneering spirit is of no doubt invaluable to them as they "settle in" to their luxurious new surroundings. They "find a deli" (thank goodness, because they were so attached to that $15 sandwich, $5 coffee place they frequented pretty much every other day back in Manhattan,) learn how to gesture their wishes to the mysteriously ethnic brown people in the shops (it's not exactly Whole Foods, but they are willing to rough it,) and somehow manage to adjust to watching the sunset on the Bosporus instead of the Hudson, the brave dears.

Back home, their equally vile son wants to buy them a gift for their thirtieth wedding anniversary and gets the super-bright idea of calling CitiBank to ask how many "Thank You" points it would take to buy the pampered assholes who breeded him the two seats they used to sit in at Shea.

Oh good lord, you have got to be kidding me. This guy uses his credit card SO OFTEN that he's accumulated enough points to cash in for something that must cost thousands of dollars- really? GOD I hate this family.

Back in Istanbul, our intrepid adventurers (who really need to die, and I mean right now) chuckle at their adorable son's thoughfullness (I'm sure they'd feel the same way if they knew the seats didn't even cost him anything) and sit their way-too-comfortable, massively entitled asses down on their new gifts, which add just the perfect touch of "America" to their freaking palace. Can you tell how much I hate these people?

Once again, CitiBank manages to perfectly capture the pulse of our nation with this ad. I mean, who among us can't relate to the middle-aged couple or their delightfully generous son? Sure, I don't have quite as many "Thank You" points accumulated as he does, but I can't be that far behind- last time I checked, I think I had enough to order a nice pen and pencil set. And in this economy, who among us doesn't live in constant worry that we'll wake up one day and learn that our company is shipping us off to Istanbul, or Paris, or Rome, or some other backwater?

I only hope that this couple, their son, and every single one of those "Ask Chuck" spokeschoads someday find themselves facing a REAL challenge that can't be solved by flashing a fucking credit card, and that involves something a bit more daunting than replacing the upscale deli that was So Important in Our Lives Back Home. These people might actually be even more loathsome than the eTrade babies- and that's saying a LOT.

I was just sitting watching my TV, and started viewing About Me

I guess the idea here is that there is a form of life which loves to be dunked in sudsy water before having it's face pushed across dirty floors. I don't know about you, but I was aware of this already.

And when Yesterday's News gets replaced by The New Kid in Town, there's some level of heartbreak experienced by the dirty mop, which never appreciated how truly wonderful it was to be soaked in cloudy water and Pine-Sol, wrung out, pushed around for a while, and finally stuffed into a dark closet until needed again. I can so relate to this.

The rejection and sense of betrayal is so great that what was Once Useful, but is Now a fuzzy, distant and not always-pleasant memory will resort to stalking, flowers, telegrams, candy, and bad 70s music- again, do these guys have a camera in my house, or what? I mean, all that's left is to have this mop use FaceBook exclusively to cry out to The One that Got Away (only to be met with indifferent silence,) and the stunningly accurate portrayal of my life is complete.

I'm not quite sure what this ad is trying to sell, but I'll keep watching anyway, if only for the stalking tips.