I've got a few more things to say about Greg from those Prevagen radio ads....

 

...because I'm really sick of the powerful suggestion running through all of these ads that Greg is someone to be looked up to, respected, maybe even admired.  He is absolutely nothing of the sort.

We are told that Greg is a "Substitute Teacher, Motivational Speaker, and Paid Testimonialist."  As far as I'm concerned, that means Greg is Unskilled Labor with a Hustle.  He's found a way to take his total lack of productivity and turn it into a steady paycheck.  He sits in other people's classrooms when actual professionals are absent, he somehow manages to convince people that he can "motivate" them to do things he doesn't do, and he endorses things for money.  And that's about it. 

But here's the part that really grates me about the radio version of this ad:  Greg introduces himself to the audience by explaining that his motivation is to "give back."  THAT'S why he's a substitute teacher and motivational speaker (and paid testimonialist?) Not for the money, but because he wants to "give back."  The world has been good to him, you see, so he's going to sacrifice his golden years by "giving back."  Isn't he something, ladies and gentlemen?   Yeah, no, Greg.  Take that halo off, it doesn't belong there. 

Look, Greg.  Everyone's got to earn a living.  You earn yours by providing no actual value, but as long as you can find someone to pay you, I'm not going to knock your hustle.  But don't tell us you're doing any of this because you feel the need to "give back."  You're a warm body (substitute teacher,) a traveling hypnotist (motivational speaker,) and spokeschoad (paid testimonialist.)  There's nothing special, let alone admirable, about you at all.  A hundred years ago, you'd be drifting town to town selling apple cider mixed with gasoline out of a cart under the label GREG'S MIRACLE MEMORY ELIXER.  And at least you'd be putting actual effort in to earn that paycheck.  Right now, you're just a sad joke we want off our radios and tvs because we're sick to death of your self-congratulatory, smarmy shtick.   Go away now and take your BS snake oil with you.

Carnation's "give them your best" commercial

 

"Kids can change minds....they can even change the world around them..." wow, kids sound really, really important.  We should take care of them.

So how does starting their day with a glass of chocolate milk and calling it "breakfast" equate to taking care of them, exactly?  Are we TRYING to make sure that they're hungry before they get to school?  Because there's a reason why this stuff is called "Essentials:" it's because it's got vitamins and minerals and absolutely nothing else (like fiber) which might keep them awake through third period or less than absolutely ravenous well before lunchtime.

And get that stupid, self-satisfied look off your face, MommyWife.  Investing all of fifteen seconds stirring up two glasses of this crap just screams "half-assed effort," not "I love my children and they are the future of the planet etc. etc. etc."  If you believed that, you'd at least whip up some toast and pour some milk into a bowl of cereal.  Carnation Instant Breakfast?  The only message that sends is "I've got better things to do." 

The Catholic University of America makes me feel so loved on my birthday...

 

Included in this very nice card is a promo code for 25% off at the CUA store.  Except the jacket I want hasn't been available for a year now.  And another jacket isn't available in any size except small and extra large- and it's not eligible with the promotion.  And another sweatshirt looks nice- but oh look, the promo code is invalid. 

Thanks, good old CUA, for remembering me on my birthday.  I'm still not donating, and you clearly don't really care if I buy anything. 

Bambee deserves another verbal kick in the butt

 

"Minimum Wage Requirements!  Wrongful Dismissal Lawsuits!  LABOR REGULATIONS!"

These are the EVIL POTHOLES and HEADACHES that ASSAULT the decent, hard-working business owner every day, according to Bambee.com.  And to deal with these and other hassles that necessary evil called Humans are just waiting to inflict on your poor poor put-upon self, you've got to hire a Human Resources Manager, which we're going to just refer to as another piece of equipment- "they cost $70,000 per year."

Now that Bambee has made it perfectly clear that it sees living, breathing fellow sapiens as royal pains in the ass whose annoying demands for things like a decent wage and compliance with laws passed to Support the Spread of Communism make sure workers are being treated like fellow sapiens, it's not surprising that this company wants to just outsource the career of Human Resources Manager to part-timers working out of boiler rooms on the other side of the planet.  I mean, Bambee couldn't be more obvious with it's utter contempt for workers who dare suggest that they have rights, so as a blood-sucking Capitalist Great American who just wants to be permitted to enslave his fellow man live the American dream, what choice do you have but to hire Bambee?  Live with those minimum wage requirements and other labor regulations?  So what you're saying is, you want the terrorists to win?

Join this Family, Drink the Kool-Aid* (or Minute Maid Fruit Punch)

 

So I guess the "joke" here is that if you bring in anyone from the Outside to meet the Family, that Outsider can expect to be greeted by absolute silence- including the sudden muting of any music that happens to be playing and hell, while we're at it, the freezing of any cooking sounds that happen to correspond with the Outsider's arrival.  Silence, and very cold, unfriendly stares from every member of the Family who will treat you exactly as if you've just stood up at the local Kingdom Hall to announce that you are in fact an Apostate and just came to let everyone know they are in a cult.

The silence and the threatening stares will only end when, and if, the Patriarch hands you a glass of Minute Maid Fruit Punch and bursts into laughter worthy of any escapee from Beldam Asylum.  And when the rest of the Family joins in, well....if you hang around to actually drink that fruit punch, you must really like that girl or really like the idea of being "accepted" by this truly weird family.  I mean, it's one thing to meet the Crazy Uncle We Have to Invite first.  It's another thing entirely for that Crazy Uncle to actually turn out to be your girlfriend's dad and the role model for everyone else in this group of lunatics who somehow include your girlfriend.  I'd start to wonder what I got myself into, and if there was some kind of Get Out deal at work here.  In any case, I wouldn't drink that fruit punch, and I'd remind myself of that old saw "marry the girl, you marry her family."  

(By the way, these people really like Minute Maid Fruit Punch...I mean, it's not TERRIBLE, but...there are a lot of better-tasting drinks out there.  Seriously.)

*yes, I know it's not Kool-Aid.  But it wasn't Kool-Aid at Jonestown, either.  

TDAmeritrade's shameless, manipulative exploitation of a shameless, manipulative song

 

Because I'm afraid I'll forget, I just have to spotlight one of the YouTube responses to this commercial which lets us know that Mr. Chapin's estate is very grateful that this song was used in this ad.  Yes, I'm quite certain that Mr. Chapin's heirs appreciate the royalty money.  Other than that, I'm not at all certain that Mr. Chapin would be thrilled to see his cloying tear-jerking mess of a song being used to pitch TD f--ing Ameritrade.

Now that that's out of the way, we see that this is one of those ads that has nothing to do with any product but instead is designed only to elicit feelings of warmth toward a particular company.  "Awwww....look at that dad being involved with his kid!  Awwww...I remember this song, which is about a father who neglected (worked for a living to keep a roof over his head) his kid!  Awwww...the company that bought the rights to use this music must really, really love dads who really, really love their kids!  I should invest with them, maybe!"

Oh seriously, gag me.  This commercial features maybe ten three-second scenes from eighteen years of a father's life with his son, including baby-holding time that son will NOT remember or appreciate later.  Are these three-second scenes representative of the guy's relationship with his son?  Or are they the rare highlights of 18 years in which the dad was essentially absent (the rare highlights that this guy images reflect the kind of awesome dad he was/is, while if the son looked at this commercial would think "yeah, I guess that ten times over the course of 18 years, dad and I did stuff together, but what about the great majority of the time when he was nowhere to be seen?")  Also, if this IS an accurate portrayal of his life as a father, so what?  Being a father is Optional.  This guy chose to be a father.  He's just doing what decent fathers should do.  This ad suggests that this guy should be up for a Nobel Prize because he held his son when he was a baby and played catch with him and took him out for a burger on occasion.  

And finally...this is, in the end, a commercial for TDAmeritrade, a company which in all of it's other ads feature people staring at stock analyses on laptops and cellphones or sitting in coffee shops or "green rooms" chatting away with greasy analysts about how to spend more time obsessing over money.  No kids to be seen, anywhere.   So what's with the mixed messages?  Are guys supposed to spend time with their kids, or are they supposed to be spending every waking moment manipulating their money?  I know which one yanks the heartstrings, but I also know which one signs up the customers.  Which is why this particular ad is the outlier. 

Ocrevus declares war against biology. I guess.

 

This is exactly like those stupid "Stand Up To Cancer" commercials I used to see- and actually commented on more than a decade ago.  You know, the ones where random people (and Lance Armstrong) would stand up and stare at the camera and challenge cancer to a fistfight, or something. 

This really weird anthropomorphizing of a disease always struck me as being weird.  I have rheumatoid arthritis.  My specialist never suggested to me that RA was "out to get me" and it was "me against RA" or that shooting up with Humira twice a month was my way of "fighting back" against RA, maybe because he's an adult and I'm an adult and he realized that to describe my condition and it's treatment in that manner would be treating me like a child.  Instead, he just told me that Humira can aid in controlling the symptoms of RA.  He didn't describe RA as a monster that had invaded and was determined to take over my body and "control me."   And I'm grateful that he didn't because I prefer to take my doctor seriously.

To the best of my knowledge, diseases don't exist to challenge us or knock us off our pedestals as the Most Awesomest Living Things Ever.  They don't exist for any purpose at all, and they aren't thinking at all, let alone thinking of ways to bring us down.  To think otherwise requires a level of self-importance even I can't obtain.

On the other hand, if phrases like "Win The Fight Against COVID" and "Defeat COVID" and "It's Us Against COVID" convince the roughly one-quarter of the American population currently determined to let Stupid enslave them (and, more importantly, make life difficult for the rest of us,) then I say keep using them.  But I'm not going to stop thinking that this is all pretty stupid.