On their latest commercials, the makers of Listerine are claiming that Listerine is "as effective as floss". There is no doubt that they have studies backing up this claim. Nevertheless, I say: "fuck the Listerine company, fuck their families, fuck their friends, fuck their teeth, fuck their pets, and (especially) fuck their dentists."
Am I the only anti-corporate capitalist on the planet? Or are there other people out there who also think that the existence of relative freedom allows for the propagation of bullshit? (In case you're wondering, what we have now is not actual capitalism.) Of course, if we lived in a dictatorship, the bullshit would be coming from the government. Or should I say, more bullshit would be coming from the government than it is now. The public-to-private-sector bullshit ratio would definitely be fucked.
(Ok, fine. I'd take corporate bullshit over government bullshit any day. At least companies don't force me to eat it.)
Capitalism is like a refreshing mountain stream. Cute, little, furry animals can drink out of it. But sometimes, animals will take a shit in the stream and the shit will float. It's not so much the properties of shit that are keeping the shit visible, but the goddamn water for having the nerve to be denser than air. I'm no scientist, but I'd bet you good money that shit would never float on air. (Shit and air is fucking anarchy.)
So Pfizer, the makers of Listerine, are now claiming that rinsing your mouth out with a liquid is as effective as jamming a fishing line between your teeth and yanking out your dinner. What I want to know is: were there any human beings present during the filming of the commercial? Don't you think that the chances are good that there was at least one person who flosses? Was this person mute? Or did Pfizer just duct-tape his mouth and lock him in a closet?
If I was involved with the production of this commercial, I would have been looking for a new job immediately. In fact, I wonder if there's a civil war brewing at Pfizer, because there's obviously some disagreement. Check out this screen shot of their current website.
What am I saying? There's no goddamn civil war. Fine print is what lawyers do. The marketers and ad agencies spout the shit, and the corporate lawyers pump it with air.
Pussy Dry? Try Miracle Lube.
At around 1:00 AM last night, I was watching a religious infomercial. You might want to question my sanity, but hear me out. The name of this particular program was:
The Peter Popoff Miracle Ministry
All I saw on the channel guide was "Peter Popoff", I didn't even know it was religious. If I see the name "Peter Popoff", I have to watch. But, on top of this, if you tell me that Peter Popoff is a reverend, I'll rearrange my schedule for the next three months if I have to. Nothing will come between me and Reverend Peter Popoff.
Peter Popoff was filming from beautiful Nassau, Bahamas, where the water is warm and the religious zealots are ripe. This grotesque individual, with a face frozen in a failed attempt at a smile, offered deliverance from suffering and financial woes. (Actually, I'm pretty sure he mentioned financial woes first.)
Not to worry, Peter Popoff had Miracle Spring Water for sale. Just call his toll-free number to get one "free". They must have some serious hucksters working their phones. I was almost tempted to call just to see what they would sell me, but I was afraid I'd be put on the "morons who respond to religious infomercials" list. Here's the number, if anyone wants to try: 877-902-7400.
Perhaps what was funniest of all was the packaging of the Miracle Spring Water. It was a small plastic container, probably bizarre-looking to anyone except someone like me who's been to a porn shop on 8th Avenue.
I discovered my own version of Miracle Spring Water one fateful evening, or rather, one morning, that started out at a libertarian meeting with John Stossel, then continued on through at least two hotel bars and the famous, now-defunct, Filter 14, and ended at one of the few remaining porn shops not quite on 42nd Street. While my cohort of the evening was making organizational suggestions to the store manager on the placement of the porn videos, I was browsing the flavored lubricants. In little, .33-ounce plastic containers, were a variety of glycerin-water-sucrose lubes. Guava-pineapple, for example. I also bought Piná Colada, Passion Fruit, and Cinnamon. Most amazingly, each flavored lube was in the same plastic packaging as Miracle Spring Water.
I haven't (ehem, my girlfriend and I haven't) had the nerve to try these flavored lubes yet. But if they were miracle lubes, maybe I'd try them. Peter Popoff, are you listening? I've got the tagline for you already:
Fuck at the speed of God.
According to the Peter Popoff website, if you watch Comedy Central early enough in the morning, you'll be able to catch his infomercial. Now that's poetic comedy.
Actual quote from Peter Popoff:
"God paid off one of her bank loans and she didn't even know it?"