He IS going to die soon, right?

1.  I love the framed photo including the Family Patriarch, hovering over all.  Kind of creepy.

2.  Mom says everything will be fine once they buy Daughter some headphones.  I'm not sure what this means- does Grampa snore?  Is it so Daughter can still listen to her music and not bother Grampa?  If it's the latter, um...is this still daughter's home, or what?  What else in our lives are we turning upside down to make life better for Grampa?  How about getting HIM some headphones and leaving Daughter Who Wasn't Asked If She Minded Giving Up Her Room And Moving Into the Basement alone?

3.  "Thanks for not putting up too much of a fuss over moving my incontinent, grumpy, doddering old fool of a father move in and disrupt our happy home until he's ultimately found dead on the toilet.  Here's your first installment of Shut Up and Deal With It By Sobbing Quietly Into Your Pillow and Hiding Alcohol Around The House jewelry."

4.  "This IS his home."  Sounds sweet, but my guess is she means "we thought getting him to cosign the mortgage was a good idea, but now it's come back to bite us in the ass, what are we going to do?"

Oh, and Jane Seymour Medicine Woman?   Who the hell asked you?

A talking plastic nightmare and "Forrest Gump?" This was the best you could do, Netflix?

Thirty-four years ago, Mrs. McDermott was browsing the local Dollar Store and found the most god-awful ugly Christmas angel to ever come out of a factory in China and inexplicably decided to buy it.

Turned out that this garish piece of middle-class kitsch had a nasal Jersey accent- not that it really mattered to the McDermotts, since it couldn't actually talk, except to itself.  Good thing, too- because it never stopped talking to itself, and the only thing it was interested in was creepily watching the McDermotts do whatever the McDermotts do during the holidays- like watch 20-year old films that everyone else has already seen a dozen times on Netflix, for example.*

During the holidays and ONLY during the holidays, of course- because it's safe to assume that this piece of nasty junk spends 49 weeks of the year sitting in a musty box in the attic, alone with it's thoughts (which, hopefully, don't include "someday I'm going to climb down from that tree and kill the McDermotts.")

*I mean, come on.  At least show them watching The Lone Ranger, or something else a bit more current.  Forrest Gump?  Who the hell would gather with their family on the holidays to watch Forrest Gump?  Maybe the plastic atrocity's memory is a bit off?

Verizon continues its assault on common decency

1.  I'm pretty sure that if the song that accompanies this ad isn't already our official National Anthem, it soon will be.  I can't imagine another with lyrics which more accurately speak to the hearts of the Better Off and Therefore Better Amongst Us.

2.  I'm also pretty sure that if Buying Stuff For Yourself isn't already our official National Pastime, it soon will be.  I can't imagine an activity which more accurately appeals to the hearts of the One Percenters, One Percenter Wannabees, and those who believe they are in the One Percent because Rush Limbaugh told them they were.

Instant Gratification- and your right to experience it- continues to be the guiding philosophy of the richest, fattest, most over-indulged nation on Earth.

Meanwhile, there's a soup kitchen down the street that had to turn families away last night while you were chanting (and living) "I want it, I want it, I want it RIGHT NOW" on your way to the Verizon store.  Dickwad.

Nissan? What the HELL is the POINT?

So the passengers in this commercial are concerned about being late- I guess because they don't know the power of the Nissan Rogue.

The owner of this car proceeds to show off a variety of CGI effects, accompanied by repeated "Do Not Attempt," "You Can't Really Do This" and "Fantasy" disclaimers (and a truly stupid "I do this all the time and it never stops being awesome" head-wag from the driver) to arrive at a parking lot and quip "are we early?"

The punchline, meanwhile, is "Commute Your Way."

So the viewers are expected to keep these two ideas in our heads at the same time- you can chart your own course with the Nissan Rogue, but you can't actually do any of these things we show the Nissan Rogue doing with the Nissan Rogue.  In real life, these passengers would have been late- just like they would have been late if they were driving a Honda, a Volkswagen, or a Ford.  Because in real life, the Nissan Rogue can't jump highways and disobey the laws of gravity.

So....what were we just watching here- and why?

KFC Presents 2014's version of "Family Time." Caution: May Cause Nausea

This is pretty sad, isn't it?

This.....um...."family" is busy congratulating itself because it's....um....."together."

Actually, the.....um....."parents" are being pretty straight with us- they admit that they just bribed their two idiot offspring out of their rooms by bringing home a bucket of everyone's favorite greasy fried chicken.  And that "being together" is good enough- the kids can continue to be isolated, rude douchenozzles with their cell phones and MP3 players.  Nobody expects them to put their electronic shit away for a few minutes to acknowledge Mom and Dad and maybe even have a conversation with them- nope, Mom and Dad are way, way beyond expecting anything like THAT.  Just being in the same room is good enough.

Um, is it way out of bounds for me to ask why?  As in, why can't these "parents" get their kids out of their rooms simply by announcing "time to come out of your rooms and to the dinner table?"  And once they are at the dinner table, what exactly would be wrong with "put your phones and music away, you are with your parents now?"  Why is this depicted as some kind of unreasonable, impossible expectation?

What the hell is this?  Mom and Dad have simply surrendered to the "inevitability" that their kids will act like soulless, rude jerkwads and are happy with the tiny crumbs of attention they are willing to spare the people who made the house, their rooms, and this chicken possible?  Again- am I out of bounds when I simply ask "Why?"

And while I'm at it, why is dad's "now, if their batteries die, we might just have a conversation" supposed to be anything but depressing?  What exactly would happen if Dad told his kids to shut their crap toys off for fifteen minutes?  Why are the electronics in charge here?

Was I just born in the wrong century, or what?  WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?

Ride Along for the further adventures of American Racism- and Sexism

Here's yet another movie made by black people to exploit every stereotype white people have of black people.  In other words, a movie in which intelligent African-Americans who really ought to know better (or care more) exploit racist white people and stupid African-Americans, and all so that a tiny handful of already rich African-Americans and already rich whites can stick a few more dollars in their pockets.  Awesome.

We have the surly, tough-talking blacks and the screechy, bug-eyed blacks, competing for the right to make our ribs split with laughter because OMG Did You Hear What He Just Said ROTFLMAO!!  We have witless banter and (I'm quite certain) endless car chases.  We have situations which make sense to white people only if we assume that This Is Just The Way Blacks Are, and which make no sense to black people but Hey It's Just Fantasy So It's Funny.

Oh, and we have a nice undercurrent of misogyny as a major (THE major?) plot device- why does the protagonist need the permission of his girlfriend's brother to marry her?  Why does he have to pass some test of Worthiness devised by said brother in order to win the "right" to wed her?  If I were this guy, I'd remind her brother that she's an independent human being and not his property.  What Freaking Century Is This Anyway??

Then again, if Hollywood was willing to accept that this is the 21st century, it would have to stop spooning out blackspoitation crap like Ride Along.  So we'd better just buckle in and get ready for what I'm sure will be just the first installment of a billion-dollar (ok, maybe quarter-billion dollar) franchise.  It's going to be a very long decade....

Kevin Garnett, Beats by Dre, and the Unbearable Awfulness of Life in 2014

Ok, now that I've seen the long version ( I don't get paid for this you know) I get that this is Kevin Garnett being criticized in ESPN for being "a little too over the hill" and then being treated like a mass murderer/child rapist by a population of racist morons transported in from the 1940s to throw eggs and yell horrible things at him as he takes a bus to...a game, I guess.

I get that this is all ridiculously exaggerated and that at most what the fans are really angry about is that Kevin Garnett is making more money per game than most of them will see in a year of hard work which is not performed in front of adoring fans.  And I don't get this at all- if you think Garnett is overpaid, he's not being paid with your money unless you buy tickets to see him play.  Wouldn't it be more effective to just not show up and keep your money in your wallet?

And I get that none of this bothers Kevin Garnett because he's got these awesome Noise-Cancelling Headphones.  So it's ok that a mob of goons basically wants to lynch him- he can shut them out by listening to....um...."music."  Maybe what they are angry about doesn't even really matter- the important thing is that Kevin Garnett is comfortable in his own skin, is confident of his own worth- and has these cool headphones that silence the raving lunatics who- again- sure look like they want to string him up and douse his corpse with gasoline.

I could ask several questions about this horrible, overplayed, overwrought nugget of an ad- for example, if the maker of these headphones is suggesting that the cure for criticism- or a scary, murderous mob- is to pretend it doesn't exist.  Or if we should all take comfort that Kevin Garnett doesn't give a damn what anyone thinks of him as long as he knows he's great- and is paid accordingly.  Instead, I think I'll just make one observation:

I spend a lot of time on trains and buses, and in stores and museums.  That means I spend a lot of time listening to people witlessly blathering away on their cell phones.  I also hear a great deal of other people's music bleeding out of ear buds.  I guess I could invest in a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and try to shut these morons and their thoughtless asshattery out of my life, but wouldn't that require me to be constantly listening to my own noise?  Sometimes "hearing what I want" means "not hearing anything at all."  And if I just want to enjoy some peace and quiet and do some thinking- is that just not allowed anymore?

(Oh, and BTW- yes, you can tell everybody anything you want, including "I'm a man I'm a man I'm a man, " but the last time I checked, being a "man" didn't mean sealing yourself off from criticism.  Maybe it's just me.)