Advanced Medicine to keep you working, at all costs

Watching this guy constantly pop pills because he either can't admit he has a serious physical problem or considers it a matter of personal pride that he's never filed a worker's comp claim is more than a little depressing, don't you think?

I mean, just look at him.  He looks like your typical, out of shape, middle aged blue-collar worker who, thanks to wages which have been stagnant since the Clinton Administration finds himself struggling to cover long hours doing a job which really ought to be left to younger, healthier workers (more than enough time for them to become damaged, sore pill-poppers themselves in a few years.)  He GULPS down one over-the-counter pain killer after the other (loudly, of course- God forbid we don't CLEARLY hear this guy get his Tylenol down, we might think it was stuck in his throat, I guess.)  He constantly grabs at his aching body parts- back, knee, whatever is hurting at that moment.  And takes another pill.  With a GULLLPPP.

And sees nothing really wrong with any of this, except gosh it sure is a hassle to keep having to take all these breaks from inflicting unseen damage to his body and GULP down another pill.

Hey, buddy?  Here's a freaking clue:  your problem is not that GULPING down a pill every few hours is cutting into your Good Productive Worker Drone time.  The problem is that your job is freaking killing you, and you are trying to ignore it by masking your pain with drugs.  Two Advil instead of Eight Tylenol?  Yeah, I guess that's an improvement.  But know what would be even better?  If you took an entire freaking afternoon off and used it to see a doctor.  A doctor who might explain to you that Pain, while nothing any of us would ever actually welcome into our lives, is actually a kind of helpful way in which our bodies tell us that something is wrong.  And while there's nothing wrong with GULPING down an anti-inflammatory on the rare occasion, they really aren't supposed to be part of the freaking nutrition pyramid.  There's no Recommended Daily Allowance for Ibuprofen, ok?  And if there was, be assured that you regularly exceed it before lunch.  Get some help, because really- life is far too short and livers are far too fragile for this.

You know it's fantasy when you can't tell which one is the customer

Here's another "OMIGOD this car is AWESOME I don't even care how much it costs where do I sign?" commercial.  Which means it's just like every other car commercial which takes place during a test drive or features a customer standing around a showroom.

As usual, there's no actual "selling" going on, and we are treated to the antics of a blithering nitwit who has clearly never learned Rule #1 of Buying a Car- never, ever show enthusiasm for the idea of possibly Buying Today.  You are there because you've got some free time and you thought you might pop in to see if there are any deals.  You are looking at a Chevy, but you've always purchased Hondas (insert the names of other brands to suit your particular situation) and probably will again, you thought you'd just check in here, for variety.  When you take a test drive, the car is ok but you want to keep looking for a few more days.  You never act like you actually need a car, or even want one, but what the heck.

You never, EVER act like the people in these ads, desperate to sign on the dotted line for a car you've spent thirty minutes convincing the salesperson that you really aren't good enough for.

So, the question remains: Which of these idiots is the seller, and which is the buyer?

Walmart's Honeyed Trap for the Terminally Stupid and Socially Unconscious

Look, I get that Layaway looks really attractive this time of year, especially to the millions of alleged "Christians" out there who think that the best (only) way to celebrate the birth of the Lord and Savior of the Universe who 33 years later was Crucified for Our Sins is to buy as much cheap crap as possible and wrap it in pretty paper and stick it under a soon-to-be-dead tree.  But there is so much wrong with this concept.  I'll just hit on a few things that annoy me the most;

First- as Christmas gets closer, the sales tend to get better.  This happens because retailers get nervous as the Big Day arrives and realize that no matter how much they trim their profit margins, they are still better off doing that than trying to unload all this junk AFTER the holiday.  So putting something on layaway in the first week of October is actually pretty damned stupid- do you really think that Walmart is going to run out of that item, or that it's price is going to go up?  No, probably not, because that would require some actual thinking. Which brings us to....

Second, Layaway may have been invented with all of the best and most noble of intentions (yeah, like Aarons and Rent A Center were started because someone felt that people with crap credit had a "right" to laptops, living room sets and big-screen tvs.)  But now it's really just a come-on designed to encourage poor people to overspend.  Look, just pick out all the stuff you want but can't afford, we'll set it aside for you and you'll just pay a little per week!  With luck, you won't even NOTICE the bottom line (and if you are an Aaron's or Rent A Center customer, you are already good at ignoring it anyway) and what you've done to your family's food and rent security won't really hit home until the second week in January (around the same time you lug that browning tree to the curb.)   Bottom line- if you can only afford to buy something if you put it on layaway, you really can't afford to buy it.  Sounds mean, maybe- but not as mean as convincing you to go into hock so you show well for your kids.

Finally- hey, people?  This is Walmart.  Everything except the big bags of candy and maybe the shampoo is crap.  The low prices on electronics and clothing are covered with the invisible blood of the Asian children who slave to put it together so you can walk off with more stuff and the heirs of Sam Walton can afford another chain of South Pacific Islands and still leave enough cash when they're dead so that the next descendant who actually has to work for a living is born around the year 3500.   How about celebrating the holiday by doing something other than reveling in the exploitation of people you'll never see but who (inconveniently for your soul's sake) exist nonetheless?

And have no fear, they'll be Sharing it all with us

The good people at Apple decided that the best way to sell us on this month's version of the iPhone was to bury us with scenes we are all already very, very painfully familiar with:  Morons with no interest in maintaining a society and no idea of the concept of privacy blathering nonstop into their stupid-ass ubiquitous phones.

Oh, and loudly.  Because like I noted above, nobody really believes in privacy any more- and nobody seems to get that the whole f--ing planet isn't interested in listening to one-half of their---umm, "conversations."  That woman on Amtrak didn't get it four years ago.  That lump of dumb at the park didn't get it yesterday.  I'm pretty sure that the first thing cellphones do to users is switch off the Social Sensibility function of their brains.  The whole damn world is your living room, people- so yak away.

And as long as you aren't going to wait until you are not driving your car, or sitting in a library, or walking around a museum (and it's pretty clear to me that you aren't,) you might as well take your f---ing best friends into the surf with you.  Samsung is pimping it's Idiot-Proof phone with a series of ads featuring the same guy finding ways to break his-- I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Apple follows suit, though I must say I don't know why they'd bother, since so many owners see their phones as disposable already.

And I know you don't really need this advice, but I'll give it anyway- please never, ever wait until you have something to say before you make that call.  When you are in a crowded train or bus or a place where the last generation thought that quiet was kind of a plus, that's a perfectly reasonable time to whip out your iPhone and yell "WHASSUP" into it, don't worry if you've got nothing to add beyond that.  You are providing a real service to the people around you, who might have been stuck reading, or listening to music, or just reflecting on the day if you hadn't jumped in and announced that you are the Biggest, Most Thoughtless Dick In The Area.  We know you didn't do it to provide a service, but because the sound of the echos in your empty skull and the withdrawal symptoms you were feeling because you hadn't "connected" with anyone for several minutes in a row forced you to fumble for your idiot box, but we appreciate it anyway.  Really we do.

A solid foundation for ANY relationship, in my humble opinion.

It occurs at the moment the woman here mentions "The Lord" and says "at least we had that in common" or "that connection" or words to that effect (how many times do you expect me to watch this crud?)

What she's saying is that it's nice that this guy is mutually desperate- errrr, interested-- and is not painfully hard on the eyes, etc. but all that really matters is that they both believe that 2000 years ago a guy who wandered around a Roman province doing magic tricks until being executed and then reappeared as a zombie before vanishing for good is simultaneously God and God's son.

She might as well just say "I knew he was the one when I realized he shared my pathetic, childish, medieval delusion.  We were made for each other."  I totally believe it, lady.

Now go forth and multiply, because there really aren't enough intensely stupid people on the planet yet.  I'm being sarcastic.  I feel the need to say so, because you knuckle-dragging morons with your Middle Ages belief systems really don't get sarcasm, or anything else that can't be found in the King James Bible.

(BTW, check out the way these two are looking at each other in the screen shot.  It looks a lot more like "you're here, and I'm sick of looking, and I guess you'll have to do" than "you're my soul mate," don't you think?)

The New iPhone. Unlimited Asshattery.

It's 2013, and the world is wide open to me and my awesome iPhone technology!

I am no longer limited to yakking away from every train, bus, park bench, sidewalk, grocery store and movie theater in the United States!  No more shall I be shackled to mere texting as I swerve around on the highways or bump into you on the sidewalk or pretend to spend quality time with my kids at the zoo or beach!

With the new (latest)  iPhone, I am finally freed from the shackles of my own eyes with their inferior, non-sharing technology!  From this point onward, I shall view the planet through the Superior eyes of my iPhone, capturing every moment of my Amazingly Entertaining and Awesome and above all Share-able life for the world to experience!

I shall record it all.  Every crack on the sidewalk.  Every barking and jumping dog.  Every blade of grass, every grain of sand, every gently crashing wave of the sea.  Because it's happening in front of me and my phone, it can now be preserved and stored and sent to the phones of the people lucky enough to be called my Friends.  No one who has achieved this status need ever be in doubt that I am the Most Remarkable Person in the Universe and that every waking moment of my life is of great Significance.  I mean, check out this funny hat I saw- what would your life be if you were deprived of seeing it?  Here's an interesting-looking squirrel- I know sending it's image to your phone has changed your life for the better.

Now, everyone I know can experience my life, through the eyes of my phone.  And I can record it all (it's my RIGHT, you know) and preserve it for the sad people who do not at this moment have access to the Remarkable Story that is Me.

Come to think of it, you don't really have to thank me.  I won't be able to respond anyway, being way too busy watching the world go by through the filter of a four-inch screen.

Hey, McDonald's? I've never cared about anything less

Just imagine- thousands of idiots with absolutely, positively nothing left to do (now that the AFLAC duck's online "recovery" is complete) rushing to the web (who am I kidding, they were probably already there) to find out who stole Flacco's bag of grease from McDonald's.

Now try to get that image out of your head.  Yes, we are a very sad country.  A very sad, bored, listless, fat country filled with people with no plans for today, tomorrow or the foreseeable future.  A country constantly looking for something to kill the time, all the time.  A country so pathetic that we respond to commercials which ask us to "See the whole story at..." or "learn the rest of (insert name of stupid boring loser here's) tale at..." or "find out what happens next at.." no matter how insipid and pointless the segment we were "treated" to on television was.

I'm not going to be checking out the site, because I can't imagine my life being so devoid of meaning that I would care which NFL player (because duh, we know it's another NFL player) stole the fried crud.  This commercial lost me the moment Flacco got talked into playing for junk he had already purchased.  I mean, why would anyone do that?

Oh yeah, I forgot.  It's a commercial for McDonald's.  I think if it makes sense, it's not allowed on the air.