Watching the Super Bowl on Sunday made me realize two things: One, God makes up for his hatred of the Red Sox by doing everything in His power to make sure the Patriots win. And two, even the most anticipated commercials of the year can suck, and suck really bad. The latter point is something that has been bothering me for the last few minutes, so I have decided to use my vast influence as staff columnist for The Dartmouth to rant about something no one else cares about.
Every time I see a bad commercial, I get violently angry and resolve to punish the offending company by never purchasing anything from them for as long as I live. Then I remember that I am a college student who has no money, and that I probably couldn't afford to buy whatever product was being sold, anyway. But by keeping the money I don't have in my wallet, I at least feel like I am sending a powerful message to companies that approve of stupid commercials to advertise their products. In this way, I estimate that 1-800-COLLECT, Old Navy, and Vagisil have all lost several of my non-existent dollars as a result of their silly advertising campaigns.
There are, of course, several categories of bad commercials. Take for example, the type of commercial that hypes a product so much that people who don't even know what the thing is or what it does still yearn for it. I, for example, would love nothing more than to get my hands on a glorious, beautiful, new hemi. I truly would die for the opportunity to pick a hemi up from the store and just take it home and cuddle with it. I don't actually know what a hemi is or does, but I do know that if on the off chance I am one day challenged by an unshaven white guy to a pickup truck race with the stipulation that we must tow 20-foot yachts behind us, I am definitely going to need to get me some hemis beforehand. It's either that or look like a fool while my challenger grins a toothless grin as his pickup and boat pull away in a cloud of choking dust.
A similar type of commercial touts some kind of medicine that looks as if it will give you the gift of everlasting life. The ad encourages the audience to ask their doctors about the drug, since, naturally, the ad itself won't tell you anything about it. My own experience with such commercials has curiously drawn me to the drug Levitra. While I'm not sure exactly what Levitra does, I do know that if I ever want to throw a football through a tire, I'm going to need to take a couple of those pink tablets and endure the possible side effects that include blindness, death and even excruciatingly painful diarrhea. Obviously the folks at Levitra are very decent and honest people, as they are comfortable telling us all about the horrible, debilitating side effects of the drug without actually telling us what good the drug does. I figure that if a company is sincere enough to do that, maybe a little internal bleeding and loss of liver function isn't so bad.
Then, there are the ads for things you would never think need advertising. Is it really necessary to advertise for plastic? Do I actually ever have a choice of choosing a different material for my water bottle, pen, keyboard or plastic utensils to be made out of? Apparently the plastic industry believes I do and has therefore launched a huge campaign to promote plastics, which apparently "make things possible." I swear I have even seen ads that tout plastics as the solution to poverty and hunger. Mobile phone companies have joined in the "advertise for no reason campaign" by creating ads that claim that no matter what mobile phone carriers do, they are acting in the best interest of consumers. I didn't realize that charging me $15 on my phone bill for calling the mobile phone company to complain about being mistakenly overcharged was in my best interest.
Of course, I seem to be confused about the meanings of a lot of commercials nowadays. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need to go take a Levitra -- writing about all these stupid ads has given me a headache.
