Sunday, February 13, 2011

1000 Ways to Destroy your Kindle



Where's the disclaimer? or Don't try this at home, or anywhere else!

I own a Kindle- this version, in fact. I love it. I take it everywhere I think I will have a chance to do some reading. It was a birthday present last August, which makes it even better because I didn't have to pay for it. However, I assume full responsibility for the way I treat my Kindle, and understand that if anything happens to it, I will have to replace it myself.

So whenever I see this commercial, I simultaneously cringe and shake my head at the utter stupidity that's on my screen. Kindles are very light, and anyone who has ever picked one up doesn't need to be told that they are quite fragile. They consist of glass and hard plastic "protecting" very sensitive, fragile electronics. So what the hell are these idiots doing with their Kindles? They are using them in very close proximity to water and sand. On gym machines and crowded subways, where one slip or bump is going to cause it to fall to the ground, where it could be stepped on and instantly destroyed. One guy gives a Kindle as a gift and doesn't even keep it in the damn box it came in- here it is, honey, as if you couldn't see what it was through the superfluous red ribbon, I've even turned it on already for you, let's check first to see if my addle-brained cluelessness didn't result in a scratched screen. And don't get me started on the guy who slips his Kindle into his back pocket- hey, great idea, buddy. Just don't forget it's there, or the first time you sit down you'll be very glad that they now sell for "only" $139.

Here's what I don't get- Amazon sells covers for Kindles. Lots of them, in different colors. They are a little pricey, but I can't imagine taking my Kindle out of the house without one. Even with a cover, I wouldn't bring it to the beach or near a pool- not until they make a waterproof cover for my version. Maybe not even then.

Is Amazon actually being so craven as to encourage people to abuse their Kindles, so that they will have to replace them faster? I'm willing to concede that three dry Cheerios won't damage the Kindle. But I can't IMAGINE letting a dog lick it. Or carrying it in a bike basket like that. Or putting it at risk of being sat on.

If Amazon isn't encouraging people to use their Kindles in a reckless manner, I just don't understand how they can responsibly misrepresent the device's portability like this. Yes, you can use your Kindle without a cover. Yes, you can carry it around with you everywhere you go, again without a cover. But please, DON'T. Unless you want to go through the hassle of buying another one, and probably sooner rather than later.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Oh what a tangled web we weave...

Where Does Breakfast Come From? from DBL DRAGON on Vimeo.



Someone, please, get this kid some parents.

A little girl too young and naive to be aware that her lower-middle class trailer trash clueless parents are doing her zero favors by getting her addicted to grease-and-salt laden "food" from the local Mickey D's asks her idiot father "where does breakfast come from?"

Dad, probably annoyed that the woman who was a Nice Girlfriend But Dammit I Told You I Wasn't Ready to Start a Family forbids him from using his cellphone while driving passes the question back to mom. And now it gets really, really stupid.

Because apparently mom has no clue where food comes from (charitably referring to what they sell at McDonald's as "food.") So she pulls some convoluted pile of BS straight out of her ass to explain what any High School graduate really ought to be able to describe in understandable terms to any kid willing to listen- some crap about Food Wizards with Magic Wands who chant spells and make gestures and Presto! There's the Magical Food, right there!

(By the way, the fact that this little kid doesn't already think that "Breakfast comes from the Refrigerator" or "Breakfast comes from the Store" gives us a pretty good idea of how often she eats at McDonalds. My guess is that she thinks milk comes from 7-11, where it lives next to dad's smokes, and money comes from CashStop.)

Having failed to make this a teachable moment by talking about farmers and cows and trucks and trains and all the hard work that goes into getting food out of the ground, and instead spinning a low-quality fairy tale which the kid will someday repeat on the playground and get mocked for, mom is confronted with another question- "where did I come from?" which mom Hil-ARIOUSLY bounces back to dad. (Don't we all hope that dad responds with a 100 percent accurate, medical description of the procedure? I mean, shouldn't at least one of these alleged "parents" refuse to play the "let's keep the kid dumber than we are, for as long as possible" game?)

Seriously, who is this ad supposed to appeal to? People too young to be carting around children? People too stupid to know that McDonalds food is fatty junk that should be kept a safe distance from youngsters (and adults, for that matter?) People who think that kids should never, ever be given an opportunity to learn anything outside of the sterile confines of a classroom?

Well, I guess that population is pretty big, so McDonalds is safe. If I were sitting at the next table, I'd have a hard time keeping my mouth shut, though. Just to be safe, I'll keep taking my coffee (the only thing McDonalds makes which is worth consuming) to go.

Friday, February 11, 2011

When the Endless Pasta Bowl just won't cut it



"We're in the mood for really fatty, greasy garbage. Who's got it?"

"Ok, now who's got that really fatty, greasy garbage in big steam troughs so we can keep going up and filling our plates over and over again, until our internal organs beg for mercy and our taste buds have committed suicide?"

"Ok, now who's got that really fatty, greasy garbage in big steam troughs for about ten bucks- pretty much cementing the notion that this is really cheap, fatty garbage and the remaining restaurant is a Denny's clone- and if you don't want ribs, you've got plenty of meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, spaghetti and all the rest of my fiber-free, artery-hating favorites?"

"Golden Corral? Yep...that's what I thought. Ok, roll me up to the booth, bring me a pitcher of iced tea and don't even THINK about bringing me the bill for at least three hours."

Gross.

(And oh, just an aside to the Child Abusing Dad in this commercial: You don't need to be hitting any All You Can Eat rib places, buddy. Do your heart a favor and limit your Endless Grazing to salad bars for a while at least, ok? I mean, make an effort to teach SOMETHING of value to those kids of yours before you drop dead from the inevitable massive coronary.)

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

UPS- It's not Logistics, just Pathetic



I ran through a few of these UPS ads to try to find just the right one to fit my current situation. Kind of fun to watch this company claim that it can get your package to it's destination Early Morning, no problem....or to China, no problem, "pretty standard stuff."

Delivering your package early in the morning is pretty standard stuff. So is delivering to China. However...

I ordered a purple Nick Markakis Orioles T-shirt from Football Fanatics ten days ago, in plenty of time to arrive at my parents house in Vermont for my niece's birthday party, which was this past Saturday. Except that the one-pound package was not delivered on the first attempt, on Friday, because of "Emergency Conditions Beyond UPS Control" (that's what it says on the website.)

Nor was it delivered on Monday ("Emergency Conditions Beyond UPS Control.") Nor was it delivered yesterday ("Emergency Conditions Beyond UPS Control.") Scheduled date for the next Failed But Don't Blame Us Delivery: Wednesday, February 9.

Now, the weather isn't that great in Vermont these days. Lots of snow, and my parents live on a dirt road. But these 80-year olds have been up and down that road and into the main town nearby every day since Friday- two 80-year olds driving a little Honda Accord up and down that dirt road, almost right past the UPS store. Know who else has been going up and down that dirt road into town every day since Friday (except Sunday?) The US Postal Service. Know who else? The drivers of the local school buses.

So here's an Emergency Condition Beyond UPS Control which seems to be effecting UPS exclusively. While everyone else and their little brown dog has no problem getting up and down the hill to my parents' house, UPS and their big brown truck can't seem to quite manage it. What do you call that- Logistics? How about Incompetence?

But it sure is heart-warming to know that while UPS may not be able to maneuver it's way up a dirt road in rural Vermont, it can get your package to China no problem. And it can deliver it Early Morning, if you like- as long as there are no Emergency Conditions Beyond UPS Control- like a dirt road, and snow, which don't seem to present obstacles for anyone EXCEPT UPS.

Later today, when my parents are getting their mail right on time and UPS is busy preparing another Emergency Conditions Beyond UPS Control message for me to check out when I hit "track package," I'll be reminded that some people actually think that the US Government can't do anything right, and that services like mail delivery should be privatized. Yeah, that's a great idea- if you only want to get your mail when it's 65 degrees and sunny out.

That's Logistics? No, that's crap.

What can Brown do for you? A lot, I suppose, as long as conditions are perfect. When they aren't? Hmm...not so much.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

An Aggressive Answer to an Unasked Question



Get a load of these self-satisfied commercial stereotypes- here's the middle-aged man oddly proud of the fact that he swims "a mile a day, every day." Here's the rugged bicyclist (more about him later) who is apparently unaware that we have no idea how long he's been "exercising" (snigger, condescend- I'm sorry, but the bike does most of the work) and that he's "not halfway" yet. Here's the Proud Mommy who needs to keep her digestive tract in good shape because Daughter "keeps us on our toes." And here's another woman doing yoga (good lord, if I had a dime for every commercial featuring women doing yoga- is it really that popular?) who says she needs to take a prescription drug to stay "in balance."

Apparently sick of the standard "my doctor told me to" explanation, each of these dicks then stare belligerently at the camera and snarl "Because it works." Hey, back off, people. You want to pop yet ANOTHER pill instead of just MANAGING YOUR FREAKING DIET, that's your decision. Nobody's telling you not to.

I am, however, a little mystified as to what this pill is actually supposed to do for you that getting enough whole grains, fruit, veggies and water can't. I strongly suspect that the answer is "nothing"- so the woman doing yoga wasn't stopped from doing yoga before this latest abomination from our friends at Big Pharma hit the market; she was just annoyed at being "forced" to cut out the crap and eat decent, healthy foods. And if you ask her what was so damned horrible about eating a sensible, digestion-friendly diet, and why she's taking a pill instead, she'll skip over the first part of the question and simply answer "because it works." When the better answer is "Because I can."

Ok, back to that guy with the mountain bike- is it just me, or do bikers in commercials always seem to spend at least as much time CARRYING the damn thing as riding it? What is that- is it supposed to make them look more rugged and athletic? Well, I'll admit that the way I see most people use their bikes, carrying it around IS much better exercise than riding it.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

No Smoke, Still Insufferable



(Full Disclosure: I was married to a smoker for four years. She said she'd quit while we dated, and while we were engaged, then never made much of an effort at it once we were married- basically, it was my responsibility to just get over it. I had a headache pretty much every other day for four years. If she hadn't been the most stunningly beautiful woman I'd ever met, I probably would never have started dating her. And oh, our divorce had nothing to do with her smoking.)

Now that that's been taken care of...

I'm not especially annoyed by the all-too-common practice of having five people tell us what one could tell us just as well- even when they finish each other's sentences and even interrupt each other. I don't care about the ostentatious blowing of smoke rings. I'm even willing to shrug off the entirely gratuitous "it's a free country- isn't it?" we get near the end (Yes, it's a free country. What's your point? Still pissed that people woke up one day and decided they didn't think they should be required to "share" your pathetic addiction just because they wanted to eat at a nice restaurant, have a drink at a bar, or do work in an office?)

No, what really pisses me off about this ad is the truly retro "Smoking Is Still The Coolest Thing You Can Do" message which is cleverly shoved down our throats throughout. One guy looks like a cross between a secret agent and a mob boss (maybe he's Rico from that awful Copa Cobana song.) A super-glamorous woman looks like she's ready for an extremely expensive night on the town- just her, her equally glamorous friends, and her e-cigarettes. The point in clear: Smoking still makes you look Far Better than Average, the kind of person People Want to be Like. And now you can do it in public places again (I worry about anyone complaining about having water vapor blown into their faces- I seriously think that any of these people would lose it, right then and there.)

Also- is it just me, or do all these people look like refugees from late-night phone sex ads?

Better late than never, I guess



I'm not sure what it is about the produce section that makes this woman suddenly stop and ask herself "did I take the pill this morning?" I really HOPE it's not that green bean she's holding in her hand, because...well, that would just be wrong.

At any rate, it's really annoying that she can't remember if she took her pill, because apparently if she had, she'd be squeezing in behind the Sale on Watermelons to do it with the next passerby (seriously, why DOES this thought pop into her skull?)

Ok, I'll move on. We don't know why she was reminded of her birth control medication while shopping for veggies, but we do know how that thought gathers strength- her unattended little monsters have just taken out some of those watermelons, the adorable little tikes. The helpless "what am I gonna do, they are my spawn after all" look on this woman's face suggests that she thinks about Life Before These Things more often than she officially lets on in the course of the commercial.

So she gets home with her sack of groceries (celery sticking out of the top-check) and opens the door just in time to see more of her unattended Oopses destroying part of her lovely suburban home. And here it gets really confusing- at one point in this ad, she tells us that "two are enough, for now." But she had two kids at the grocery store- and when she walks into her house, there are two more. Are they the same kids? If so, how did they manage to get into the house and wreck the place before she got in? Why didn't they at least hold the freaking door for her? And if they are different kids, did she just forget about them when she told us that "two are enough, for now?" (Not that I could blame her...)

And now we get to meet Dad, who is every bit as attentive to these Life-Ruining little energy vampires as Mom is. Dad is busy doing what dads do in the suburbs- sitting on a lawn chair, reading the newspaper, and gradually consuming about four pounds of M&Ms. Ah, the American Dream. Except that the bitter reminders of his fertility are swiping his snacks. Well, at least they aren't demanding his notice- that's something.

Here's the message that hangs heavily over this entire commercial, and all the others for the same medication- the Idea of having kids is nice, but god damn they will drive you into an early grave, so here's a weird piece of plastic for you to jam into yourself, ladies, if you can manage to make the idea of having sex pleasant again by separating the concept from those noisy little creatures who are always underfoot.

How many of those creatures does this woman have again? The odd thing is that she seems to be underestimating that number. Wishful thinking, I guess.