Zales Presents another "here's your yearly pay--err, I mean, Happy Mother's Day, Honey" commercial

Ugh, this has so much manipulative bs going on all at once, I hardly know where to start.

First, I wish Commercial Land would spare the Oh It's So Adorable When He Plays Me look on Mommy's face.  Enough with the concept that when Daddy picks up Baby, he's acting like Mommy, ok?  It's his kid too, dammit.  I am so damned sick of commercials which suggest that a guy who picks up his own child is deserving of a  Medal of Honor.

Second, the first point is accentuated by the "here's a bunch of rocks held together by a string, dear."  I get a very definite "Ok, I did the Dad thing, now take this bracelet as a token of my appreciation for the fact that this is a rare occurrence and that YOU are the one who gets up at 5 AM Ninety-Nine percent of the time to take care of YOUR kid."  And more adoring looks from Zombie Way Too Appreciative Wifey- "Oh honey, you picked up our child, AND you got me a bracelet from Zales!  On the same day!  And to think Mom didn't approve!"

Pardon me while I retch at the latest reminder that every Zales commercial runs on the assumption that there are women out there For Sale for the Right Rock.  I mean, I knew that already- I didn't need to be reminded.

A few polite questions for the DVR Genie

1.  Why would anyone want or need to "record up to five programs at the same time?"  I could be charitable and assume that there are some people out there who only enjoy watching five specific television shows, and because the universe is aligned against them, they are all scheduled to run at exactly the same time.  I could be, but I'm not going to be.  It's far more likely that if you enjoy watching five shows that are being broadcast at the same time, you are pretty much infatuated with everything that shows up on your idiot box, and feel an urgent need to watch all of it.  Or, at least, to record all of  it.  Which leads me to....

2.  Do the people who buy this service and who actually record several programs being broadcast at the same time ever actually WATCH any of these shows?  Because these commercials strongly suggest that it's All About the Recording.   Is it just a power thing?  You need this Genie doohicky because in order to justify your cable bill, you must have the power to record everything you can't watch while it's being broadcast?  I strongly suspect that this is the case, because....

3.  A lot of these commercials tackle the "problem" of "Full DVRs."  This REALLY boggles.  So some of you out there are recording and recording and recording (sadly, this is often referred to as "building libraries," because storing thousands of hours of mind-numbingly stupid television is EXACTLY the same as collecting, reading, and lovingly storing books) so much junk that you run out of DVR memory?  Do you just insist on keeping everything you record, even after you've watched it (assuming you ever get around to watching it, See #2?)

4.  Are there people out there who really find the inability to record endless television as horribly annoying as these vile bags of couch pus?  If so, is it ok if I dismiss such TV-addled techno-junkies as the lifeless, soulless freaks they are?

5.  As for the "this Genie is even greater than...." isn't it especially sad that the ridiculous image this guy conjures up is certainly a combination of Amazingly Cool Stuff He Saw Other People Do On Television, but will never, EVER have the chance to even attempt to simulate in real life, because that would involve GOING OUTSIDE?

Finally- if this DVR Genie thing is half as Cool and Awesome and Essential as it is sold on television, why are there still so damned many people in front of me at the cash register and on the thruway?  Shouldn't they all be home filling their bottomless DVRs with mindless junk that they won't be watching later?

It's a Beautiful Life,* especially when viewed from the bottom of a glass of 1800 Tequila

Yeah, that's pretty cool.  1800 Tequila just poured me a shot.

Here are other things that are pretty cool- in Military Time, 1800 was when I sat down at the bar last Friday and ordered my first shot of Tequila.  The empty ache inside was instantly numbed and replaced by a kind of sad despair which was still better because it didn't hurt quite as much.

By 1900, I was on my fourth shot, and the resentment and bitterness over that girl who simply will not call was replaced by a rather generic "f-- her, I wouldn't talk to her if she tried to contact me now anyway" conviction.  Fortified by a fifth shot.

And by twenty hundred hours, every single girl in the bar looks really good-- not too good for me, but good just the same.  Too bad I can't get off my stool to introduce myself, and too bad they won't come over and talk to me, but it's their loss.

And an hour or so later, when I'm vomiting into a trash can in the alley behind the bar, well, that's just the price you pay when you indulge in extra-classy tequila like this.  So is the awful hangover I have the next day.  The returning thoughts of that person I tried to forget for a few hours?  That's the reason I'll be back next Friday.

Sometimes it's easier than dealing with the pain. **   Me and the guy in this ad get it.

*Ace of Base

**Soul Asylum

"FREEEEDOMMMMM!"

I guess this is what happens to trucks when they are found guilty of high treason?

Seriously, what is the point of this stupid ad?  Nobody is going to do this to a truck, ever.  I simply can not imagine a situation in which I find myself in a truck hoping that it will stay together as it's being pulled by heavy chains attached to winches.  I also can't see myself handing my truck over to my mechanic for the fourth time in three years because yet another electronic doohicky has failed and thinking "well, at least I know it can withstand being picked up by heavy chains attached to winches.  That's certainly something."

So, guys?  If you want me to buy a truck (good luck with that.  Not likely) stop showing them pulling space shuttles or saving airplanes or flying down ski slopes.  Stop showing me how I could be throwing rusty engines into them before high-fiving my fellow weekend warrior male types while wearing greasy, dirty work gloves.  And stop trying to sell me on your trucks based on their ability to hold together while being pulled by winches.  Because this- this is just really stupid and pointless and has nothing to do with what's going on in my life.

Dr Pepper's salute to conformist non-conformity

As near as I can tell, this commercial is one great big celebration of the concept of being yourself by following the crowd.

I mean, everyone's expressing themselves by wearing red shirts which include some fact which labels them in some way or another.  Personally, I think it's a lot more individualistic to NOT wear a personality trait on your freaking chest, but that's just me.

And look what qualifies as "Rebellion:"  Wearing a WHITE t-shirt instead of a red one.  A white t-shirt which announces "I'm a Rebel."  The only "rebellious" thing we see this woman do is walk in the opposite direction from the crowd, with a Way Too Satisfied With Her Bold Refusal To Go Along look on her face.  Take that, Sons of Liberty.  Take that, Civil Rights leaders of the 50s and 60s.  THIS is what it means to be a Rebel in 2013.

Is it ok if I find all this choreographed junk just a bit too manipulative to swallow?  Not that I'm a target audience or anything- personally, I've never understood the allure of soda that tastes like cough syrup.  But I never imagined that buying and drinking this swill would put me in the ranks of Nat Turner and John Brown.  Hey, they didn't even have "I'm a Rebel" t-shirts.  Losers.

Hyundai confirms that it does not employ actual human beings to make its ads

Maybe the only thing more disturbing about this tasteless, thoroughly disgusting, horrible little nub of an ad is that there are actually Youtube posters who think it's funny and that those offended by it "need a sense of humor."

This commercial has already been pulled by Hyundai.  But whether or not it should have been pulled is a question dwarfed by a few others:

First, how was it even made?  At least one person had to write it.  At least one other person had to OK it. Several other people created the set, and hired the actor to play Man Humorously Attempting To Commit Suicide.  My guess is that at least a dozen people had a very strong grasp of what was going to happen in this commercial-- and gave it the thumbs-up anyway.

Second, how did this get on the air?  This required even MORE people to watch the ad and sign off on it.  I figure we are up to twenty people now who had every opportunity to stand up and say "wait a minute.  This is unacceptable, offensive garbage.  It's not even a matter of us being able to do better than this.  It's more like, 'it would be hard to do worse.'"

Yet, it got written, it got funded, it got produced, and it got aired.  And now Hyundai has pulled it, expressing surprise and regret that people failed to find humor in an ad mocking a suicide attempt.

I don't think I have a reputation for overreacting, but it's really not enough for me that Hyundai has yanked this ad and apologized.  Personally, I think a few more steps are required.  The writer, producer, and everyone else involved in this abomination should never be allowed to work in advertising again.  Nor should they be allowed within 100 yards of children.  Oh, and they should be deported.  To Gitmo.

Oh, and Youtube posters who thought this was funny and we all just need to "lighten up?"  You can go, too. You will not be missed.

"Here's your F--ing Chocolate Diamonds. Will they buy me even an HOUR of peace?"

So I guess the male half of this couple, bitterly regretting his decision to take his honey to the Levian Chocolate Diamonds Exhibit Sponsored by Kay Jewelers at the local museum, got really sick of listening to the twit blather on and on with her recital of Everything She Just Learned About Chocolate Diamonds From The Signs (hey look, she's literate!  What a great catch!)  and wandered off to the gift shop for some Me Time.

While he was there, he heard a few people checking out the snow globes complaining about this leggy lunatic who can't stop dropping obvious hints about how much she just loves these Chocolate Diamonds.

Resignedly, he pulled out his MasterCard and shelled out for one of the stupid rocks, already inflated in price but even more so at a museum gift shop.  As if the fricking $20 entrance fee wasn't enough-- and oh holy jesus, he also said something about dinner at that upscale cafe afterwards.  It never ends, this shit.