There’s an ad on Australian TV for the Christian Childrens Fund or something like that. Gets on my Parus major, I can tell you.
It’s a foundation to save starving kiddies in the hot countries, and what a laudable cause that is, no argument with me there.
The ad starts with a big, grey-bearded American telling me that by the time this ad finishes, two dozen kiddies will have starved to death. Bit of a downer to start off on, but I guess the guilt trip is their bag, right? Fair enough.
Then it goes on to say that for the cost of my lunch and a prescription I can save two dozen kiddies lives. Good value, I say.
BUT.
In the process of telling me this it portrays an American woman complain in a whiny voice about the cost of lunch and prescriptions, while the big, grey-bearded voice-over guy says, “while you complain about the cost of lunch and prescriptions…”
Beg yours? I didn’t bloody complain about anything until you showed up, and the least you could do is dub over the accent as a small pretense that you’re putting some effort into getting my hard earned.
And so, for the vague reason that they called me a hard-hearted American whinger, I pit this advertisement, for no better reason than I’m a tight-arse and I have an irrational hatred of lazy, manipulative tripe.
Well, cabdude, at least the ad didn’t portray Australians as pampered whiners. Maybe that’s what it was trying to get across: “Don’t be like those complaining, parsimonious creeps! You’re* Australian*! You guys don’t mind helping out a friend in need, or even a billion strangers, if it looks legit and leaves you with enough left to get along.”
Okay, I’m joking. They probably just didn’t want to spring for another spot. But you have to admit, “Don’t be like the U.S.” would be a persuasive slogan in a lot of places.
I know it’s because of pressure for “truth in advertising” that it’s done, and that having “small print” in TV commercials (even though I have seen some that annoys me even more) is hard to do in the 11 nanoseconds that commercials run these days, but if I never hear/see another of these:
"Volvotec will improve your eyesight, your cholesterol, your sex drive, your brain power, your athlete’s foot and your standing in the community.
Side effects may include: gonorrhea, excessive and sudden diarrhea, gout, rickets, pellagra, beri beri, sleeping sickness, tuberculosis, rheumatism, arthritis, brain tumors, amputated limbs, loss of memory, heart failure, and allergic sensitivity to air.
Ask your doctor if Volvotec is right for you."
…if I never see another of these, it will be too soon.
I hate those “Truth” anti-smoking ads that talk about how eevvvviiiilllllll Cigarette manufactures are. Like people are sitting around thinking “Hmmm I’d like to take up smoking but I hear that Tobacco Execs are bastards!” I mean for fucks sake it’s like they’re just all happy and excited they dug up some dirt on the Tobacco companies they’re just making ads for hippies that really want to talk about how evil corporations are and not stop anyone from actually smoking.
I don’t even smoke and those ads piss me off with how retarded they are.
I hate any preachy ad, but the worst are ones where Tony Danza or some fuck tells me to read to my kids or not to beat the crap out of them. I don’t have kids, but I think somehow when I do I’ll manage without help from washed up TV stars, thanks. And you might want to look at your own culture, you hypocrites, and you’ll know why we’re not exactly looking to the entertainment industry for advice on rearing a family.
They have the same guy on US television making his pitch. Holy hell, this guy lays the worst guilt trip I’ve ever seen, even televangelists could learn a thing from him:
*During the time you watch this commercial thirty gazillion people will die in Desertstan. You’ve always wanted to donate, but why didn’t you? It’s not the money, it costs just a cup of coffee a day. It’s not like you feel bad about it, you’re providing food, medicine, and education to needy kids. It’s not like you have to worry where the money goes, we spend $1.15 of ever dollar directly on the kids.
You know what I think it is? (dramatic pause while he gives you a look of distaste) I think you just forgot the number, so here it is. And you’re not doing anything right this minute, so pick up the phone."*
I’m going to hell for this, but everytime I see this ad I hear Sam Kinnison’s routine about food and luggage…
thanks to the incessant amount of spam i get at my work e-mail account, any “analog” ad (TV/radio) that promotes that male-enhancement crap IMMEDIATELY gets muted/the channel changed
as soon as i hear the first few syllables of the product name i’m reaching for the remote/volume knob, those ads are utter failures, thanks to friggin’ spammers
i know, i know, no wishing death, so instead i’ll wish a large thermonuclear <paintball> would drop on the spammers <computers>
hmmm… thermonuclear paintball, should i…
A group of internet radio stations that I listen to have the option to become a subscriber. If you do, you don’t have to listen to comercials or their about once-a-half-hour subscription pitch. I don’t mind those; it’s radio, it’s a business, they advertise. No big deal.
What I do mind is one drop in particular; it’s about a minute of babies crying obnoxiously. After it ends, the announcer says, “If you were a prefered member, you wouldn’t have to have heard that.”
Grrr. “We’ve put on something specifically to annoy you until you buy our product.”
Thanks, now that’s all I’ll be able to think about next time I see that ad.
(paraphrased) “It’s the freaking desert! Why don’t you MOVE?!?”
I really hate that one for OnStar with the whiney kids basically berating and guilt-tripping their parents into getting a car equipped with OnStar.
“You wouldn’t put my baby brother in the car without his carseat, would you?”
“Who’s going to call for help if we have an accident?”
“What if we get lost? How will we call for directions?”
Hey, I have kids, I work with kids, I like kids - but I want to smack each of the kids in that commercial.
Holy smoking ghostly blokes, cabdude, you’ve just entered the internet pantheon as the archangel** Implacable**.
I’d tell you to destroy your television, but then you might look out your window, and there might be a pair’ous major walking by, and then you’d be all wound up again.
I’ll tell you what. I swallowed all my religious objections (it’s a lot easier than I thought, when I can tell myself I’m doing the right thing), I worked it out financially (Hey, I’m the pits in the U.S., but I’m one of the richest men in the world, if you squint at it right), by which I mean I asked my wife’s permission, and I sent a check exactly twice as large as I figured I could afford. And guess what? The world hasn’t changed much, I’m still an asshole, and if anything my family likes me even less than they did yesterday (I’m being strict about homework this week). But maybe sometime next week, one of the children will live, instead of dying. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? It’s something for me to tell God in a while, if s/he exists, and I’ll make sure the kids know about it sooner. Oh, hell. I can’t possibly judge you: I’ll only say it’s a shame if you withold charity because of irritation with the timing. But authors are granted the same courtesy, aren’t they?
Tell you what: take out an ad announcing your intention to watch the dangerous stuff the government wants you to ignore. I believe you’ll make the first cut at least, and then it’s 10 - 1 odds or better. Do whatever you want, I’m just sayin"…
There is one radio spot that causes the station to get changed instantly. Some poor bloke is prattleing on about some home improvement, and his shrill harpy of a spouse (think Hillary wth a rageing case of PMS [oxymoron?]) is whineing on about “tell them about the discount Harry!”. She gets louder and more pissed as the spot dragges on.
If that were me, the first time would get a pass, and by the 4th whine, I would need F. Lee Bailey.
Needless to say, that company will never see one dime of my money.
I’m annoyed by the one with a guy walking the streets of Impoverished Destroyedistan with a little girl who maybe weighs 50 lbs. He’s in dress casuals, she’s in whatever she’s got. He says something about helping out, and then says that little Whatsername has to walk those streets filled with dirt and dangerous sharp-edged metal, and broken glass, etc. every day, and she’s barefoot. I always yell at the TV, “Then pick her up, you asshole! You’re wearing shoes!”
And no, I’m not denying they do good work, and I’m not denying the kids in Impoverished Destroyistan my dollars because of this ad. I’m sending my dollars to someone in Impoverished Sub-Sahara.
It just annoys the crap out of me that he’s going on and on about how at-risk this barefoot little girl is from Icky Things In The Streets…and then he’s dragging her through those same streets. It just looks tremendously like “YOU need to help this poor kid…because I sure as hell ain’t gonna.”
Substitute Bart Durham for Mr. Schulman. Guy looks like he might be able to blow up a balloon. Skinny. Bad hair. Stoop shouldered. Make a good usher at a cheap theater.
“Justice is your right, and we DEMAND it.” Wooooooo (Steven Baldwin in The Usual Suspects)
“If you want to help these people, don’t send them food, send them luggage. You know, we just travelled halfway around the world to bring you dinner, and it occured to us that there wouldn’t BE any hunger problem if you would just MOVE WHERE THE FOOD IS! YOU LIVE IN THE FUCKING DESERT! DO YOU SEE THIS? THIS IS SAND! DO YOU KNOW WHAT GROWS IN SAND? NOTHING GROWS IN SAND! AH AH AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Yeah, they don’t make 'em like Sam anymore. Of course, you’d get lynched for delivering that joke these days. Sure, no country is going to welcome the millions who would take them up on the offer, but nobody ever described Sam Kinnison as bathing in the milk of human kindness.
But I remember another ad that’s even worse, and it’s only on radio AFAIK. “Charlie from Aruba”. Often run in the Boston area during particuarly nasty snowstorms. There are several variations, but the one that makes me want to put my fist through the windshield, played several times when my 45 minute commute gets extended to 3 hours courtesy of Mother Nature:
Hello, this is Charlie from Aruba. Normally it would be a balmy 86 today, but we’re having a cold spell. The temperature has fallen to 85. Brr… If I owned a sweater I’d put it on now, but since I live in Aruba I don’t own a sweater.
If I ever take a vacation in Aruba and some poor schmuck working behind the counter says “Welcome to Aruba, my name is Charlie” I fear I’ll be spending time in an Aruban prison.
Thanks, now that’s all I’ll be able to think about next time I see that ad.