Aim High, Sister!

Oh boo-freaking-hoo, Supermom.  Nobody tazered and tagged you and tossed you into Suburbia so you could wake up one day with several constantly-dirty children and a worthless husband.  And guess what?  There are millions of women out there who not only do all this crap without a State of the Art Whirlpool, but with no washing machine at all.

But here's a tissue to go with your cape, Wonder Woman.  Maybe you'll get a chance to use it if you ever climb down from that cross.

Happy Chocolate Pagan Bunny Day!

1.  I never committed a sin before I was born, so I didn't need someone to take the fall for me 2000 years ago.

2.  There is nothing moral or just about a person being tortured to death as payment for something someone else did.  Blood doesn't wash away sins.

3.  I will not be guilted into loving or worshipping or following someone because he allegedly let himself be tortured and/or because he claims to love me.  This sounds like a classic battered spouse relationship- "I suffered for you, so if you don't worship me you are a horribly ungrateful human being."

4.  I don't need a "relationship" with a fictional character to be a worthwhile person or to achieve fulfillment in my life.  And you can't convince me that I do or that I'm sad "deep inside" because I don't "get it."

5.  So many of these "Jesus Loves Me" people pose as admirers of Israel and of Jews, but their own doctrines make very clear that Heaven is open only "through Christ."  Martin Luther, for example, stated that Redemption and Salvation are possible outside the Church but "not outside Christ."  If the people I know and work with every day aren't welcome into heaven, it's too exclusive for me, too.

6.  Jesus "loves me" but he'll never help me with my taxes, or in keeping my house clean, or take a walk with me, or drink coffee with me at the local Starbucks, or take in a movie with me, or do any of the thousand things my real, non-imaginary friends do with me.  His love and $1 will buy me a hamburger at McDonald's.  Given the choice, I'll take the $1.

Enjoy your chocolates.

Wear your best friend on your wrist!!!

Hey, this is really cool!  Now you can take your life-sucking games anywhere you go even before your parents have given in to your pathetic whining and sprung for that iPhone like all the other parents of your friends did before THEY hit the age of eight!

(Of course, if you are still f--ing around with this stupid crap when you hit the age of ten, get ready to be mercilessly bullied by your iPhone-owning friends!  And feel free to show this blog post to your parents in case they don't get it!)

Until then- yaaaaayyyy something to do other than make actual, human friends and play actual, human games (holy crap, these kids are OUTSIDE and TOGETHER and all they can think to do is f--k around with this nonsense?  Do kids even own whiffleballs or frisbees or bikes anymore?)

I take back that part about this being "really cool."  It's actually really, really sad.  If I had a kid, I might get something like this to keep them occupied during long car rides or rainy days.  No, I take that back, too- I'd use long car rides to TALK TO HIM and rainy days to PLAY GAMES WITH HIM.  I can't think of ANY instance in which I'd day to myself "man, I wish I had bought that stupid virtual friend thing to keep my kid's brain occupied, because books are so lame...."

And since my kid would be wildly popular- like the kids in these ads seem to be- he'd never lack other kids to engage in actual play with-- you know, actual play which burns actual calories and actual muscle and develops actual social skills.  Not this garbage.  Adults spend waaaaaayyyy too much of their lives staring at screens- why the hell would we want to introduce that ugly addiction in childhood?

Oh right, Capitalism.  I keep forgetting.

Nissan: Where the Salesmen are just decorative

Here's another ad people who actually make a living selling cars must loathe, because it's so damn common.  This woman doesn't need to be sold a car, she just needs to be followed around until she picks the one she's the most insane about and shown where to sign.  The cars might as well be in vending machines.  I wonder if Toyota shows this commercial to salesmen whenever they ask for a raise- "seriously?  You don't do anything NOW!  People are so desperately manic to buy our cars, you are practically in the way when they come in- a chimp with a pen could do your job!"

"Yeah yeah yeah love the cars, love the deal, here's my wallet give me my keys!"  And the salesman looks flustered and stunned by the whole thing- well yeah, I guess I would be stunned too if I walked into my new class late one August and had all the kids tell me "never mind about teaching us stuff, we read the text over the summer lets just start writing essays we'll grade ourselves and watch prep videos and see you after the AP Exam Mr. J!"

 I'd be stunned- and then I'd wake up.

"Thanks, Mom- these go great with those corrective shoes you gave me for my birthday last year!"

When I first started this blog more than seven years ago, I searched for this commercial on YouTube, but failed to find it.  At that point it was already 17 years old- but I remembered it like I had seen it yesterday because it was just so stunningly stupid.

This week, I finally found it.  And since like everyone else I did not have a blog back in 1991, and since I'm not adverse to snarking on commercials from the distant past, here it is, in all it's glorious awfulness.

This woman suddenly realizes that hey, it's Christmas and hey, she really ought to get to work buying all those people in her life- her husband, her family, and herself- some presents.  She's a little concerned about money, but especially concerned about having enough to buy herself something.  Seriously.  She's going to buy HERSELF a Christmas present.  Because that's not something she can leave to those other people.*

Suddenly she remembers that hey, those people in her family all have one thing in common- they all have bad eyesight.  Maybe they bump into things a lot or have stopped reading because the words are too blurry or are getting headaches from eyestrain.  Here's a wonderful idea for presents, and it only involves one trip to one store- "America's Best Contacts and Eyeglasses, for myself, AND my family!"

Sure, the element of surprise will be lost- she's going to have to make appointments for those kids and her husband and herself.   The element of Joy will be lost, too, as soon as her family realizes that the trip to the store for eye exams basically constitutes their freaking Christmas presents.  Happy Holidays, everybody!

In real life, is there any way this woman gets away with this?  I think that even back in 1991, eyeglasses were things that parents were kind of supposed to provide to their kids when they were needed- not as holiday presents.  What is this woman going to get her kids for their birthdays?  Braces?  Measles shots?  I mean, come on.  What the heck?

Anyway, she looks pretty happy with her "solution," and goes back to lovingly decorating the tree.  And we all kind of wish there had been a sequel in which she told her family what they were all getting for Christmas- a session of "Better Here, or Here?  Clearer Now, or Now?  Let me know when you can see the little red farm house in the distance" followed by a delightful several minutes picking out cheap frames.  And being told again and again that Yes, No Kidding, This Is Actually Your Christmas Present.  Really.  I would have loved to see that, no pun intended.

This commercial still makes me laugh, and I'm glad I got a chance to snark on it.  Better late than never.   And I bet this woman hasn't seen her kids for years, and hasn't got Clue One why that is.

*And now I suddenly understand why she sees the need to buy herself a Christmas present.  If this basic-essentials-for-Christmas bit is a regular thing with her, I don't imagine her family is all that generous in return .

Coke's new ad campaign gives me whiplash

Remember when Coca-Cola was running it's "Share a Coke With...." ad campaign?  It was roughly yesterday.  I still have about a dozen cans in my refrigerator which suggest that I share them with A Friend, Mom, Sweetie, a Superstar, etc.

Well, so much for that deal.  Maybe it's because Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year's and Valentine's Day and the rest of those Togetherness Is What Matters holidays are over.  For whatever reason, nowadays over at Coca-Cola it's all about getting your soda delivered in a colorful package and making sure the rest of the world keeps it's damn grubby mitts off.

This kind of reminds me of watching "Roll a Rollo to your friend" and "You can have a Half and still have a Whole" (Almond Joy, in case you don't remember or are under 40) going the way of carbon paper and being replaced by Twix "Two for Me, None for You" nastiness.  And I wonder if, sometime in the late autumn of next year, Coca-Cola will pretend to be in to be into the whole sharing thing again.  Until then, I guess I'll enjoy the colorful cans.  I guess.

Isn't Jan jumping to conclusions here?

I thought that the stupid customer in this commercial just brought her friends to help her pick out a car- why does Jan just assume that every person she brought with her is ALSO in the market for a brand new car or truck?

I mean, wouldn't that be a rather odd coincidence- "I want to buy a car, and I brought along with me three friends who are also interested in purchasing?"  Holy crap, really?

And Jan has her usual stock answers for each person- she can let them know exactly what is available for each one of them without even a glance at their credit scores or even asking them individually what they might be looking for.  She can just TELL which ones want a sportscar, truck, 4-door, 2-door, lease deal, used (excuse me, "certified pre-owned,") etc.?  How?  By looking at their shoes?

I suspect that this is all about Jan refusing to ever, ever get up from her freaking desk.  In magical tv land, this does not prevent her from selling 200 cars and trucks a day to excited, blithering idiots who rush in bleating "I want it I want it I want it where do I sign?"  Damn I missed my calling- selling cars looks like the easiest damn job in the world.

Still- I came in here with a person interested in buying a car.  That doesn't mean I want to buy a car.  And it certainly doesn't mean that you get to hand my friend a sheet of paper and say "sign here where it says you agree to pay $400 a month for the next five years, do it quickly and I might even show you the actual car you're buying."  It's going to take a little more than that, Jan.