Random complaining

I don't like:

...people who live in apartments and insist upon owning gigantic dogs that can't be exercised on a damn patio, so they bark all day long from boredom.

...southerners who claim various pot-luck offerings are vegetarian, but when pressed, admit said vegetable was fried in bacon grease.

...people who say the radiation in Japan is waaaay over there, so don't you worry yourself over it. The earth doesn't turn and the air never blows and water all stays in one place, so there's no way radiation can spread... oh, wait.

...de-clawing kitties. DON'T DO THAT. And I have the torn-up couches to prove that I don't believe in it. But I can also attest that torn-up couches are a small price to pay for well-mannered, happy felines.

...the way Farmville is always trying to separate you from your credit card, to purchase much-ballyhooed "Farm Cash"--with which you can buy cartoon lakes and donkeys and other dopey shit you don't need... hey, it's just like REAL LIFE!

...And finally...(((drum roll))

Male "enhancement" ads, like the endless infomercial I am listening to right now, wherein a dynamite sex-supplement promises to make you BIGGER and BETTER. It's probably just L-Arginine, an amino acid that can be taken by itself in large doses; up to 3 grams safely. (Works on women too! :D ) And it's lots cheaper than these TV-boosted supplements, which likely include Yohimbe, something that can adversely affect men with hypertension. (The difference between simple L-Arginine and these hotshot supplements can be as much as 100 bucks, so buyer beware.) I also hate the Viagra commercials for using the legendary and fabulous song "Spoonful" in the ads. The not-so-subtle racism of using a well-known black blues song directed at suburban white men with nice cars (not to mention the comprehensive medical insurance that covers these pricey Rx drugs; some insurers don't) seems a little obvious: If you take Viagra/Cialis/etc, you will be as sexy as black men, seems to be the significance of the blues-man message. And then there is the additional subtlety of the title and concept: you only need a spoonful of Viagra.

But even without music, all the winky-winky stuff in the ads (any moment can turn into a Cialis moment!) is offensive and junior high school. Yes, we all know how we get horny just by hammering nails (think about the Freudian implications of that for a second) and hanging out with the mister, as he does his manly household tasks. And then, a knowing look is exchanged, pecks on the mouth, and they leave the room together, arm in arm. We all know that our sexual experiences are EXACTLY like that, now don't we? (((rolls eyes)))

I do appreciate that the women in the ads are the same age as the men. In fact, these ads might be the only place on TV that this is true! Mostly, hot new actresses are paired with older, non-hotties. (Think about LAW AND ORDER and the age disparities.. gray hair and such are standard, but the women are all young.) This is true in movies as well. What can we surmise from this?: That BigPharma is aware they should try to be realistic in these ads--no Lolitas anywhere. And besides, maybe that is intimidating to older men? Or do they (as I suspect) just find the idea silly? (All they want is some familiar intimacy with the wife, not the babysitter.)

The CARS in the ads, and the fact that Viagra now sponsors NASCAR, well, that shouldn't be surprising. PERFORMANCE is a big word in all advertising related to men: Stereos, cell phones, cars, musical instruments, razor blades, athletic shoes, all promise various wonderful levels of PERFORMANCE, a word you rarely hear in commercials for women's products.

Now, I wonder why that is.

Quote of the week

[The television commercial] is not merely therapy. It is instant therapy. Indeed, it puts forward a psychological theory of unique axioms: The commercial asks us to believe that all modern problems are solvable, that they are solvable fast, and that they are solvable fast through the interventions of technology, techniques and chemistry. This is, of course, a preposterous theory about the roots of discontent, and would appear so to anyone hearing or reading it. But the commercial disdains exposition, for that takes times and invites argument. It is a very bad commercial indeed that engages the viewer in wondering about the validity of the point being made. That is why most commercials use the literary device of the pseudo-parable as a means of doing their work. Such "parables" as The Ring Around the Collar, The Lost Travelers Checks, and The Phone Call from the Son Far Away not only have irrefutable emotional power but, like Biblical parables, are unambiguously didactic. The television commercial is about products only in the sense that the story of Jonah is about the anatomy of whales, which is to say, it isn't. Which is to say further, it is about how one ought to live one's life. Moreover, commercials have the advantage of vivid visual symbols through which we may easily learn the lessons being taught. Among these lessons are that short and simple messages are preferable to long and complex ones; that drama is to be preferred over exposition; that being sold solutions is better than being confronted with questions about problems. Such beliefs would naturally have implications for our orientation to political discourse; that is to say, we may begin to accept as normal certain assumptions about the political domain that either derive from or are amplified by the television commercial. For example, a person who has seen one million television commercials might well believe that all political problems have fast solutions through simple measures--or ought to. Or that complex language is not to be trusted, and that all problems lend themselves to theatrical expression. Or that argument is in bad taste, and leads only to an intolerable uncertainty. Such a person may also come to believe that it is not necessary to draw any line between politics and other forms of social life. Just as a television commercial will use an athlete, an actor, a musician, a novelist, a scientist or a countess to speak for the virtues of a product in no way within their domain of expertise, television also frees politicians from the limited field of their own expertise. Political figures may show up anywhere, at any time, doing anything, without being thought odd, presumptuous or in any way out of place. Which is to say, they have become assimilated into the general television culture as celebrities.

Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death, 1986