A Modern Case of Spring Fever

First, let me assure you that this is an actual commercial for an actual product. It's not snark, it's not an old SNL skit, it's REAL.

As near as I can tell, someone bought a warehouse full of old vinyl siding and came up with the truly ingenious idea of selling it as "Furniture Fixer"- basically an artificial "floor" which can be slipped under couch cushions to keep them from sagging.

Of course, this product isn't just a cushion stabilizer. It's a "miracle" product which will save you "hundreds" of dollars in furniture replacement- the replacement you thought was necessary because you stood there like a pillar of salt while your bratty, thoughtless, misbehaving spawn jumped all over your favorite sofa (And green dollar signs floated through the air in your oddly black-and-white world. Surreal.)

(Seriously, isn't it obvious that this couple has bigger problems than Coil Integrity? I love the frustrated "what can we do?" gestures, though. How about CONTROLLING YOUR KIDS, PEOPLE!!??)

What happens when your cushions sag? Well, it turns out that it isn't cushion elves have sabotaged your furniture. Nor does it mean that Coily the Spring Sprite is off teaching some old guy a lesson about making wishes without thinking them through first ( I included that classic little Short for those of you who don't remember the 1950s or teach about it in their history classes.) No, it means that years of wear and tear has depressed those coils and now it's "Impossible to get up!" (Oh no, Grampa is doomed to spend the rest of his life on the couch!)

And just in case you aren't sold on the idea that interlocking siding panels are the solution to your sagging cushions, we get the usual avalanche of "extras" available for "no additional cost- just separate shipping and handling." The "couch pouch" attaches to your Good as New furniture so that you never have to look for your tv remote, tv guide, magazines, pens, pencils, paper- oh heck, so you never have to get off your ass ever, ever again. You can also get a set of "Furniture Movers" so that if you ever do get up again, you can- well, move your furniture. And now that you're REALLY hooked, ask about the "Furniture Lifter," which will come in handy when you realize your broken couch is still broken and it's time to haul it to the curb.

Just don't forget to take out that vinyl siding first. You'd hate to risk having the garbage men find it under the cushions, and realize what a dope you are with your money.

It's a Long Way down to Nothing At All

Once upon a time, there was this actor named Ronald Wilson Reagan. Despite his limited ability, this guy managed to use a certain vague aura of masculinity to win roles in a significant number of films, some of them (Santa Fe Trail, Knute Rockne: All American, etc.) were not especially horrible. Most of them, however, were pretty bad.

This actor named Ronald Wilson Reagan responded to a decline in his career by ratting out his friends to Joe McCarthy, making a speech for the American Medical Association warning that Medicare would turn us into Communists and urging voters to put Barry Goldwater in the White House. Then he ran for, and won, the office of Governor of California, which he used primarily to bash "liberals" while raising taxes and for running for President- an office he finally won in 1980. And the rest is history- really sad, best-forgotten history.

Well, at around the same time Ronald Wilson Reagan was riding off into the sunset, there was this other actor, named Fred Dalton Thompson. Despite his limited ability, this guy managed to parlay a certain vague aura of masculinity to win roles in a rather small number of films, almost none of which were notable in any way (unless "Necessary Roughness" could be considered "notable.") He also did quite a bit of television before being elected to the United States Senate in a special election in 1993. In his nearly eight years in the Senate, Thompson focused on foreign policy and intelligence. He declined to seek a second full term in 2000 and returned to acting.

Well, that's pretty much where the comparison between Ronald Reagan and Fred Thompson comes to an end. It's not that Thompson didn't try his best- he was a late entry into the 2008 Presidential sweepstakes but flamed out quickly and dropped out after the first few primaries.

And now look of what has become of Fred Dalton Thompson- on late night tv, pitching Reverse Mortgages, whatever the hell they are. Well, good for you, Mr. Thompson. No, it's not the Presidency, and you don't have your hand on the nuclear button. Heck, you never even got the chance to Not Get Osama Bin Laden, like the drug-addled cowboy you once hoped to replace. But at least you're picking up a few bucks here and there, and as you yourself say in this ad, that's kind of important these days.

And at least this isn't "Necessary Roughness II." Because...well, jeesh. That was one horrible movie.

The Future of Communication, For Better or For Worse

In 2008, Lynn Johnston finished the thirty-year run of her stunningly overrated, preachy, pompous celebration of the Whitest Family in Canada, the "For Better or For Worse" comic strip. The strip concluded with daughter Liz Patterson marrying her on-again, off-again high school sweetheart, Anthony Caine, who by that time was a divorced father of one and well-known to the strip's fan base as the most sunken-chested, morose, family-destroying stalker to ever be portrayed as a "good guy" in any medium.

The "relationship" between Liz and Anthony was notable primarily for it's total lack of meaningful communication. The two characters never actually spoke what they were thinking, but instead each played a passive game of Wait For Fate which might have gone on forever if their creator had not been determined to make them The Perfect Couple. Even their Engagement consists of nothing more than the two soulless idiots sitting on opposite ends of a couch, Liz muttering something about how since they get along, and they are already dating, and there's nobody else, well, they are kinda sorta engaged, right? (Anthony's breathtakingly romantic response: "I guess so.")

Too bad the story didn't take us beyond their hideous lavender-and-teal-wrapped wedding, because had the strip continued, this commercial would make a good example of what Liz and Anthony Caine, Mr and Mrs Meant to Be Like it or Not, could expect out of "marital bliss."

The couple in this ad is so disturbingly distant, so emotionally detached, and so utterly incapable of communicating that they now must resort to "expressing" themselves by scrolling through their cable service's On Demand menu. The guy seems genuinely interested in playing Kiss and Make Up, displaying romantic garbage titles and video of "our wedding." The girl is having nothing of it, at one point even changing her Facebook status to "single" (seriously, if that's an indication of how truly horrible their fight was, is it really going to be fixed by choosing the right tear-jerker to snuggle with? Is this guy really so diminished by his relationship with this woman that he's going to forget she announced to the world that their marriage was over because of a FIGHT?)

At any rate, the choice of the "right" video ultimately ends this disgusting display of passive- aggressiveness and gets this obviously well-matched couple back together again, and they have "SmartTalk" by Samsung to "thank" for it. No apologies necessary- no apologies, no heart to hearts, no soul searching, no compromises. Nope. Whatever the problem was, it was solved through the magic of the Big Glowing Screen. Thank goodness, because there's nothing in the world worse than actually communicating with the one you "love," is there?

Very fortune for us, too. Because on television, it's kind of hard to read the thought bubbles.

Not the word I would use to describe you

There are two things that have always bugged me about commercials like this one (and this commercial is very, very familiar.)

First, the exaggerated response of the "actor" at center stage. No matter how tiny the victory being handed to this guy is, he must respond by acting like a deranged lunatic, or a small child. I mean, he won a freaking taco from Taco Bell. We are told that means he saved- wait for it- EIGHTY-NINE CENTS. No one in their right mind would jump up and down, scream, and physically assault people over this. How would this guy respond if he had just won a million dollars? Hard to imagine he could whip up MORE enthusiasm.

Second, the seriously depressing, nonchalant response of the woman who mysteriously knows what the fuss is, even though she's not standing anywhere near the idiot. "He thinks he won a taco"- ok, wait a minute. The fact that she knows this is what he's screaming about, and doesn't think he won- well, a million dollars- must mean that she's used to this kind of behavior from the dick. So why does she still find herself hanging around with him (the fact that she's asked what the fuss is strongly implies that they are together- WHY?)?? Also, what's the deal with the other people around this guy- instead of wondering if he's suffering from a heroin withdrawal, they seem to find his antics either A) just slightly beyond normal, or B) somewhat amusing. Why doesn't a single person here grab this guy and tell him to get himself a fricking clue and stop acting like a braying jackass?

I'll just wrap this up with a side note- this looks like a party, taking place at a rather upscale club. If that's what it is, why are they serving Taco Bell tacos, complete with game stickers attached? And there's a whole tray of tacos there- why would this guy be excited about winning something that seems to be available in unlimited supply, right there in front of him, anyway? What the hell?

I can't believe a mere asteroid was powerful enough to wipe these things out

"It slices! It dices! Look at that tomato!
You can even cut a tin can with it, but you wouldn't want to!"

--Weird Al Yankovic, "Mr Popeil"

Here's another ad for a little piece of garbage I really wish I had the guts, know-how and lack of conscience to have invented and marketed myself. Oh, and I guess I should include in my list of inadequacies a little something called chutzpah- I mean, what could be more important to someone willing to slap a fancy name, a list of glowing attributes and an incredibly inflated price to a rope made out of rubber?

First, the fancy name- "Raptor Strap." Seriously, that's just awesome. Not only does the name "Raptor Strap" just scream strength and dependability (what is stronger and more dependable than an extinct dinosaur?) but the claim implied is also one hundred percent non-confirmable (is this product REALLY as strong as a Raptor? Well, if you disagree, go find me a Raptor, and let's compare. Oh, they haven't existed on the planet for a hundred million years? Well, that's YOUR problem, isn't it, buddy?)

Second, the logo- also awesome. That's one angry, confident-looking dinosaur there, holding a Raptor Strap as if he's ready to take on the largely unsecured, unfastened world on his own. Wouldn't you like to be as boldly ready to bind stuff to other stuff as this guy is? Well, there's only one product that can make that happen. And it's only available from this TV offer.

Third, check out all these awesome things you can do with your Not a Bungee Cord- you can secure things to posts! You can throw them over cars without permanently blinding your friends with iron hooks (Bungee Cords kill and injure THOUSANDS every year, you know! A Raptor told me so!) You can use them to walk your dog (did you know that every year, THOUSANDS of dogs chew through ordinary leashes, dash across streets, and get eaten by Raptors?)

Third, the price. Not much, as long as you are willing to forget that THIS IS A PIECE OF RUBBER WITH HOLES IN IT. And that's always the trick in these commercials- no matter how obviously stupid the product is, that stupidity can be disguised by a low price and AWESOME SPECIAL EXTRAS INCLUDED AT NO EXTRA COST JUST PAY SEPARATE SHIPPING AND HANDLING!! Because in our gullible little world, crap may not be worth the price tag it carries, but multiply that crap several times, and add some different crap, and suddenly it's a Must Have Once In a Lifetime Order Right Now Opportunity that Must Not Be Missed At Any Cost.

After all, remember that time your best friend was blinded by the lethal iron hook of a bungee cord?

History Just Isn't what it used to be

Check out these commercials for The History Channel. The first is from 1996, when the History Channel was devoted to...well, history. Lots of World War II footage. Lots of documentaries- "Hitler's Madness," "The Luftwaffe," "Dogfights of the RAF," etc. etc. A few harmless, silly pseudo-documentaries like "The Salem Witch Trials" and "The Prophecies of Nostradamus." But for the most part, real history, presented by real historians, in an easy-to-digest format.

Now check out the commercial for The History Channel, 2011 version. If you dare.

I say "if you dare" because if you care about history at all, this is really, really sad. Ancient Aliens. American Pickers. Alligator Torturers (that's not what the show is called, but it might as well be.) Ice Road Truckers. Pawn Stars. And what any of this has to do with history is totally beyond me.

This isn't a "history channel" anymore. It's a clearing house for reality tv crap rejected by STARZ, TNT, and the USA Network. It's audience must be 100 percent different now compared to the 1990s-- I hate to be a snob, but this really is nothing more than trailer trash television- lots of explosions, falling trees, loud trucks, animal abuse, and huge hairy, dirty men yelling "WOO HOO" every few minutes. I mean, come on- this crap makes "MythBusters" seem highbrow.

Here's a tip for the people currently running what used to be The History Channel into the ground: nobody wants to you try to "make history." I think the original idea was for you to examine history and present it in an entertaining manner. For more than a decade, you managed to do this fairly well. But for whatever reason ( I suspect money, you penny-pinching cretins) you've decided that the word "History" basically means whatever you want it to mean, be it "Watching guys cut through 1000-year old trees" or "check out the awesome big truck as it crashes through the ice for the 900th time." Whatever the reason, the result is just another channel devoted to Junk TV.

This is the second time I've ripped into the "History" Channel, and probably not the last, because G-d knows the people who ruined what used to be a very good reason to purchase cable deserve it. My guess is that they've received plenty of complaints, but their response has been to come up with more new crap and to run American Pickers marathons. In other words, to give the finger to real fans of History. So here's mine, right back at you, you channel-wrecking dicks.

So....men don't buy toilet tissue?

Why are television commercials still locked into some fairy tale version of the 1950s? Here we have a crowd of women (and ONLY women) discussing something "nobody wants to talk about." "It's time to be honest about what goes on in the bathroom," one of them tells us.

Ok, stop right there. First, who is being "dishonest" about what is "going on in the bathroom?" Second, no, we really don't. There's this nice little theory that "some things are better left unsaid." Fits here.

There's a lot of crap about how Quilted Northern (I don't know why, but that name just strikes me as so funny- no matter how thick and soft your toilet paper is, would you ever really describe it as "Quilted?" And why "Northern?" Is this stuff being produced in a textile factory in Lowell, Massachusetts? I hardly think so.) But I don't pay much attention to it, because I can't get past the idea that in the United States, in 2011, only WOMEN are qualified to talk about "bath tissue" (snigger.) I suppose that's because women, in the United States, in 2011, still do all the shopping and are the only people who have time to even think about stuff like "what's really going on in the bathroom."

Men, you see, are too busy managing their stock portfolios, working their Blackberries and waiting for the mountains on their beer cans to turn blue. It's not that bathroom tissue isn't important - it's just not within the American male's Sphere of Influence. Get it?

Yeah, I get it. It's 2011 on the calendar, but it's still 1955 on television, and apparently it always will be. I'd just like to know what Quilted Northern expects a single guy like me, who must make non-Male choices like which bathroom tissue to purchase all the time, is supposed to do, without a Tissue-Expert Woman around to steer him in the right direction.