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…And then there are some days on this blog when I don’t even have to think about what to write. Unfortunately those days are increasingly sad, for it often means I’m talking about dead heroes. I’m sure everyone already knows about it, but Hunter S. Thompson died last night from a self-inflicted shotgun wound to the head. It’s right about here that I question my current perception of reality and give a little flick to the temple to make sure I’m not in another of those all-too-real nicotine dreams “the Patch” is so fond of supplying me with.
Nope. It is the sad truth. No more ESPN Page 2 hijinks with the Good Doctor. No more grand sweeping epics on the altered state of the human condition. No more expose̩s on fascinating latent sub-cultural protest and civil disobedience. And it seems so unfair.
For a man like HST, who lived life on his own terms and wouldn’t have it any other way, it almost seems permissible for him to have the keys to his own demise. But no. That’s not the way things are supposed to go. Hunter, you were supposed to stick this bullshit game out to the very end, supplying the masses with commentary that weaved, dodged, parried and often stabbed. It’s a double-whammy, because it’s not just a loss fans are mourning. It’s the cause of the loss that leaves us scratching our heads.
I read his last article with ESPN last Friday night, where he detailed a phone conversation with Bill Murray at three o’ clock in the morning. He was brewing a new idea and sounded rather enthusiastic about it. He and Bill Murray were going to re-invent the game of golf. Golf with shotguns. I won’t go into the specifics. Instead, I humbly suggest you go to ESPN’s Hunter S. Thompson Page 2 Archives and see for yourself. I would have loved to have seen such an event televised. Now I’m afraid the grand sport of Shotgun Golf is in jeopardy of being lost forever.
I could be content with Hunter dying senselessly if it involved bear-wrestling or snake handling. I would prefer to see him go into the Bucket-Kicking Hall of Fame while defending a damsel in distress from a pack of wild dogs. Unfortunately, we have this rather inglorious epilogue. It happens all-too-often in the world of writing. Stop doing this, people. The odds are against you as it is. The universe is a cruel and unforgiving place that will thwack you on the head and kill you the second it gets the chance. It is the cosmic four-year-old, and we are the anthill. This corporeal existence will eventually do you in of its own accord, in the way it sees fit. It needs no help. Enjoy your life and let Mother Nature take care of the cruel eventualities.
For a man who stood in the face of every obstacle in his life and balked, this seems to make no sense. Worst decision you ever made, Dr. Thompson. Thank God the work he leaves us is vast and entertaining, filled to the brim with both fear and loathing. –Mike

“The dead know only one thing… that it is better to be alive.”
–Joker, “Full Metal Jacket”

Whether you are religious, agnostic or atheist, one thing people of all creeds agree on is that life is rare, precious and should be defended. If not for the survival instinct, life would never have persisted. It would have fizzed apart in the boiling primordial muck.
As a unique species capable not only of high rational thought, but also capable of creating tools and weapons, we sometimes disregard our instinctive codes regarding the sanctity life and auger in. The effect it has on survivors is always devastating, for the bereaved cannot comprehend self-imposed death. It is hardwired for us to try to live at all costs. Consequently, we start to believe that suicide must the work of some outside force. It must be someone or something else. The dead are not here to tell us their reasons, and the suicide note is only a glimpse into the mind of the afflicted.
As I read the various blog eulogies regarding the recent apparent suicide of Hunter S. Thompson, I was disturbed by some of the flamewar comments that arose from the original posts. One blogger’s post shared my sentiment that suicide should never be an option; that it seemed to go against the grain of a man who championed every cause that caught his interest. Most importantly, the blogger said that he was disappointed in this final act of cowardice that seemed so uncharacteristic in the life of such a cherished icon. I agree. In spite of HST’s ruminations on the end of the world and the loss of liberty worldwide, he seemed to always have a love of life. That is why this suicide in particular is such a blow to fans. In the wake of Thompson’s death, many are trying to defend his final act.
One respondent to the above-mentioned blogpost said:
“Complete crap! So you think it’s cowardly to commit suicide? So you feel cheated? How is suicide cowardly when it still strikes fear in almost anyone you meet yet he faced it head-on? I’m not saying rah! rah! commit suicide but I’m tired of hearing that worn-out line. Ah, it’s cowardly. Hunter S. took his life, he never allowed it to be taken from him. It was his choice, he’s a human being. You haven’t got a clue what was going through his head at that moment.”
Another cracked kernel of wisdom from a fellow suicide apologist goes as such:
“Everyone always says that… that suicide is a ‘cowardly’ act, etc. I call BULLSHIT on that. It’s definitely a selfish act and hurtful to others who love and admire you. But jumping off this earth into the greatest unknown we have is definitely not for the weak of heart. In a weird way, it takes a certain amount of courage. Many people can’t come to terms with that and are so afraid of death that they have knee-jerk reaction to suicide (calling it cowardly, etc.). If you come better to grips with death and really think about it… suicide may be a whole lot of negative, horrible things… but you’ll certainly see that it’s not a ‘cowardly’ act. That’s closer to the truth you may not want to face.”
Now it’s my turn. I’ll take these jokers’ arguments apart while attempting to keep my wits intact. It’s only fair that I do this. After all, they took a few key words from a post that lauds the life of HST and only condemns the circucumstances of his death. If the author of the blog entry was damning the man’s life and disqualifying his value by his choice of suicide, *maybe* vile responses such as the ones above would be warranted.
1). To the question: “How is suicide cowardly when it still strikes fear in almost anyone you meet yet he faced it head-on?” May I submit that human beings feel fear for one basic reason? SURVIVAL. We are programmed to survive. Simply because someone was swayed by a chemical imbalance in the brain or by a deliberate dulling of the senses doesn’t mean they don’t approach suicide with trepidation. Suicide occurs most often when someone is so miserable and off-kilter that acting out in spite of the fear seems to be the only solution to his/her desperate situation. Let me re-iterate – suicide is an act of DESPERATION.
2). To the comment: “It was his choice, he’s a human being. You haven’t got a clue what was going through his head at that moment.” I say that *yes* it was his choice. *Yes* he was a human being. His life’s work was, in fact, a great chronicle of what it was like to be human in the Twentieth Century. But don’t try to sell me a load of garbage about some glorious and unknowable epiphany that made Thompson’s ultimate solution poetic. It is true that we will never know what was going through his head at that moment. All we know is that whatever it was, it caused the contents of a shotgun shell to propel through his skull, transforming those thoughts to taco meat.
3). Now on to the second poster who said: “But jumping off this earth into the greatest unknown we have is definitely not for the weak of heart. In a weird way, it takes a certain amount of courage.” Wow! Suddenly suicide sounds like an adventure! Boldly go! This fool is twisting the deathbed words of agnostic cosmologist Carl Sagan, who was dying of preleukemia syndrome and speaking of his reconciliation with the inevitable. There is a marked difference between coming to terms with one’s impermanence and forcing an early end on oneself. There is nothing brave or visionary in the latter. After all, one does not kill themselves to go traipsing among the stars. One kills themselves to make existence suddenly halt. Any hope of continuation is a remote second place to the overwhelming urge to simply die.
4). Last quote: “If you come better to grips with death and really think about it… suicide may be a whole lot of negative, horrible things… but you’ll certainly see that it’s not a ‘cowardly’ act. That’s closer to the truth you may not want to face.” FINALLY, we have the mindset of these people pinned down. I’m assuming that the flame posters who are romanticizing suicidal notions are either in high-school or they never matriculated to higher philosophical ambitions than those of the state-sanctioned eleventh grade reading list. I’m not disparaging the youth, we’ve all been there. But such comments frequently come from those who are young and just beginning to entertain the possibility that they are not immortal. It is at the immediate post-pubescent stage that death is looked upon as a challenging no-man’s land. Youthful minds want to figure out death quickly and have it done with. After all, it is the ultimate “Does Not Compute” in an environment (supposedly school) where answers to all other questions are easily available. They definitely don’t want death to be the religious judgment promised in scriptural tomes, but neither do they want death to be a sad and meaningless *kaput.* It is only when we have the experience of wisdom (not necessarily age) and see that the world is full of unpredictable things over which we have no control that we start to put death in a rational context. We then recognize it as something always impending, but preferably avoided.
So am I saying that there is no such thing as a noble death? Certainly not. Laying down one’s life to save another is a great deed. Is it permissible to choose to die a relatively painless death rather than suffer through the agony of a terminal illness? Religious pundits may disagree, but I feel that one always reserves the right. Do we know all the particulars about Hunter S. Thompson’s circumstances to be able to answer why he killed himself? No.
In parting, I want to impress upon the reader that just because his final act may have been disturbing and disappointing, it is far from my intention to label him a coward. The bravest and best of men have lapses in judgment. It is sad to think that some are permanent. It is good for us to lament the unnecessary parting of a friend. But one can do so without condoning or endorsing his choice to snuff it. Now sit and spin. –Mike

–Author’s Note: I’ve been trending negative the last few entries. I’ll try to say something nice and positive next post.–

I know you people are expecting something fun, pointed and detailed, in the same vein as my recent Super Bowl treatment. Sorry, you won’t get it here. I’ll give you a few impressions and then I’m out for the night.
As a kid, I really enjoyed the Academy Awards. I was much more an avid moviegoer then than I am now. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more selective in choosing what to watch in the theater. As I watch less and less of what Hollywood offers by award time, I find myself more apathetic toward the people who bawl and shake and giggle at the podium. Last year, I’d just about had it. This year, I’m over it. BUT let me say at the front, that I was glad to see Hilary Swank, Jamie Foxx and Clint Eastwood win. All three seem to be class acts. They got the goods by sweat of the brow and carefully-honed talent. With that out of the way, I can now bash Oscar, this bizarre exercise in cloistered community indulgence.
I’m sure this all started out innocently enough. For a long time, movies were the only visual entertainment we had, especially in small-town America. As such, it’s expected that one would be easily drawn into the careers of screen favorites. I don’t know if the first Academy Awards ceremonies were broadcast over radio, but I’m all but certain they were highlighted in the shorts that prefaced films, somewhere between Crash Corrigan and Pacific theater updates. I’d give ‘em a pass on that – people were in a *motion picture* theater; they could put up with a little shameless self-promotion on the part of the Academy.
The move to television was probably an innocent and fun-loving thing, too. In the early days of the cathode ray tube, programming was sparse. It’s only natural that networks would air the glitz and glamour of the Hollywood elite to try and justify staying on the air longer. But in rather short order, after the ceremony was securely anchored in boob tube perpetuity, things took a turn for the worse.
America has always been a starstruck culture, but something happened in the broad expanse between the end of World War II and the turn of the century that caused scores of us to jitter in anticipation of the annual Academy Awards ceremony like junkies waiting for a morphine drip. By 1999, the narcissists who tread the red rewarded our fanatical obsession with mammoth four-hour exercises in self-aggrandizing back-patting and Beverly Hills weep-a-thon antics.
After the longest of Academy Awards ceremonies in history, the networks rebelled and urged the Academy to pare down the love to maybe two and-a-half to three hours. It would be easier on everyone, especially weary viewers who cut over to the local news. It didn’t take much work for them to capitulate, which makes you thankful that the Academy isn’t run by actors, who would probably stretch exposure to twelve hours if they had their way. Not everyone in Hollywood is a dirty, rotten attention whore… just the majority. And it was refreshing to see Chris Rock call the glitterati on their shit.
For about the first minute and a half, I cringed as I listened to him roast the A-List by name, peppering his antics with odd lauds to personal favorites. Then I thought to myself “What the hell? I don’t know these people.” How much of a damn can you honestly give about people who you don’t really know? Like Leonardo DiCaprio said as Howard Hughes in The Aviator, “You’re just an actor! Nothing more!” Amen. They can stand a bit of good-natured ribbing now and then. The nervous laughter and universal perma-grit of crowd concern almost proved me otherwise. I think it took that audience a good ten minutes to thaw to Rock’s particular brand of comedy. Even his supporters probably wondered just what the hell they had gotten themselves into. I’d be surprised if they invited Rock again. But I think he did a pretty good job. He’s always been an equal-opportunity offender. That’s his game. The posh, prim and pretty can deal with it for a few hours.
Even though I enjoyed Rock’s performance, I don’t think it comes anywhere close to his funniest material and I’d be surprised if they invite him back. Even on low-octane, Rock seems just a tad too edgy for the Oscars. And that brings me to a thought I had at the beginning of this entry. The Oscars are no longer simply an awards ceremony, they’re a big fat advertisement for every picture company under the sun, with giant corporate sponsors footing the bill. Wow. Doesn’t really jibe with a lot of that audience’s rabidly progressive rhetoric, does it? Now, I’ll be fair in saying that we’re all hypocrites to some extent… but actors are good at making you believe they aren’t.
I used to enjoy watching the Oscars. I’ll always enjoy watching good cinema. But the more I pay attention to these awards shows, the sicker I feel. Or maybe that’s just the whiskey. At the outset of the show, Chris Rock said “Welcome to the seventy-seventh – and last – Academy Awards show!” And I found myself briefly hoping it was true. But if there weren’t any more of these snore-fests, there would one less thing for me to complain about. And if you didn’t like hearing me complain, you wouldn’t be reading this right now, would you? Oscar 4EVAR. –Mike

About two years ago, UPN in Atlanta had as its station ID slogan “Get Your TV On UPN.” At first, the viewing masses may be led to believe that this is just another innocuous and forgettable slogan such as “Must See TV” or “CBS: Believe It!” But something a little more sinister, akin to consumer pandering was going on. It was made that much more clear when the announcer would put a somewhat urban empasis on the “Get Your TV On” portion. UPN, with all its stat-tracking resources noticed that African-American viewership at the time was one of its core audiences (sorry to all the “Enterprise” geeks out there, your numbers just don’t cut it. That’s why your show’s getting pulled). Still seems harmless? Okay. So let me add to it that the term “Get your ______ on” is woefully dated in urban and African-American circles. Hell, even two or three years before this slogan ever made it to the airwaves, I was using it as a fun and silly way to tell people what I was doing. “Just gettin’ my food on and my drink on.” I don’t consider myself culturally isolated, but by the time such culturally-specific terms get to my whitey-white ears, one can safely say the words are dated.
Maybe the folks at UPN felt justified in using this slogan in 2003 since Missy Elliot’s “Get Ur Freak On” came out just a full year before they adopted the phrase. But in my mind, this is just a sad attempt for a bunch of white suit-types to “identify” with the culture of their audience. This gets under my skin no less than “Watch You Some UPN, Soul Brotha” would. Thank God they at least had the sense to stop mining for cultural vernacular at the turn of the century.
Now Lay’s comes along and decides it’s time to update its slogan from “Betcha Can’t Eat Just One” to something a little newer. Unfortunately their new slogan “Get Your Smile On!” seems about as fresh as a bag of their chips at a gas station in the town of Mile Marker 72, North Dakota. Hyperbole aside, I suggest that if companies want to “identify” with their audiences, they take their research to the streets of 2005, rather than follow in the footsteps of their “Hammer” Superbowol ad. Funny as it was, it was funny because it was sad. –Mike

Among my friends, the news that I’m re-organizing my book for June publication has reached critical mass and the cat is officially out of the bag. As such, the first question out of most people’s mouths is “So how’s the book coming along?”
To be honest, I’m not quite sure. I think it’s going well. It’s hard to tell these days, however. I’m approaching the text from a much different perspective now, and as a result I’m going to have to re-formulate how I guage progress. When I was 23, I wrote the book in a very linear fashion. I introduced the characters one at a time. Some of them were archetypes that I knew were central to the story, others I stumbled upon by accident. I threw them all knee-deep into a rich setting and sat down to write about them every day, more-or-less discovering where *they* were taking the story along the way. Since the book started out as a short story/character study, I had no idea what a fit or just ending for such an adventure should be. As a result, the outcome seemed a little contrived and lackluster – too lackluster for a group that I had come to know and love over two years.
Once finished, I wiped my brow and let a few people read the manuscript. Some people had to deal with hearing me read the damn thing to them chapter-by-chapter. I looked for their reactions and input, using their feedback to make minor tweaks to the storyline and dialogue.
Then things went sour on several fronts in my life and I tucked the manuscript away for eight years. Elements of some characters were too close to people I knew, and the pangs of heartbreak and loss became overwhelming whenever I tried to revisit the material. Nearly a decade later, I’m back to the work of writing, trying to tie together all the loose ends and figure out where I want this story arc to go.
Since the essence of the story is the same and large chunks of the old material are going to remain, I decided that an outline would be the best way for me to approach the task this time around. I gathered up all the characters, chapters, vignettes and plot points and formatted an Excel workbook around them. Using Excel, I hyperlinked every character to the point at which they appear and cross-referenced plot elements to each other. Who knew that Excel would be such a great resource for organizing a book? Certainly not I. But it’s worked out really well so far. Having the material in such a format helps me recognize points I need to clarify, portions I need to delete and where I have room to add context, subtext, backstory and motivation. As an added bonus, I can look at the text as a framework upon which to continue building, paying special attention to points in the story where additions will make the most sense for the reader. Already, this has led me to shift chapters around and tackle the work quite objectively.
Ultimately, a writer has to understand that no matter how the book is formatted for simplification of approach, the allegiance is to the text that the reader is going to be subjected to. That’s where I am right now. I have a great outline of which I’m quite proud and interested in. Now for the hard part. The part that will make the reader believe in all this mess and enjoy the ride as much as I have. –Mike

Of all the trumped-up, miserable marketing schemes, none are quite so bad as Valentine’s Day. It used to be a holiday for florists and greeting card companies. Now we have anybody from lingerie mail-order to cheap mall jewelers pressuring people to do their damndest on the 14th of February, or else. The vast majority of ads this year imply “you might be watching this commercial right now, but SHE watches TV, too! She’s seen what we got, and if you give her flowers, chocolates and a card, she will tear your ass up and leave you for dead! Forget about love! You can say that EVERY DAY! You’ve got to buy expensive shit or she will leave you, most certainly! Take it from us.” So go the sermons of merchants A, B and C.
For God’s sake, you don’t even get this day off to do something special for your loved one. What’s worse, many cruel and fickle people know this dark holiday as “Relationship Diagnostic Day,” even using it to dump boyfriends and girlfriends they find unworthy. Worst holiday of the year, indeed. If you need a special day to remind you that you actually love someone, then you’re in need of a brain enema. Allow me. It involves a lot of punching and public humiliation. –Mike

Greetings, people! I’ve been kinda dry on the post front for the last few days. Thankfully, Dave Franklin emailed me this bizarre account of a meeting at AA yesterday that involves large, drug-crazed goons hating on parrots. Fun!
Sometimes at my morning AA meetings strange and confusing events occur. Such an event took place just this morning. Please keep in mind as you read this that AA is a wonderful organization that truly does save lives and helps not only people in recovery but also their families. That being said, it’s full of wackos. I was witness to the interaction of such wackos this morning.
Things started off normal enough. I arrived early and spent some time outside having a smoke and drinking coffee (the preferred vices of people in the program) with some other early risers. I went inside to get my seat and prepare for the emotional onslaught. I usually sit in the back next to Pedro. Pedro is a parrot that has learned to say motivational phrases like “Every day is a new day!” and “One step at a time.” I love that little feathery bundle of ��goodwill. I finished my coffee and Pedro and I eased into the meeting.
The topic of discussion for the morning was dealing with daily cravings. I was having a hard time focusing on the conversation though because there was a man sitting two seats down from me who was shaking and sweating heavily. He was starting to give me the fear when he
suddenly stood and started to scream in my direction.
“Shut up! SHUT UP! I can’t take it anymore!” he shouted as he leaned towards me.
“Relax man, I’m pissed it’s early too.” I responded as I began to rise out of my chair.
At this point, several others in the room had stood and were facing our new friend. He stood there for a second shaking with his fists clenched. I was beginning to think I was going to have to dispatch of
this swine with extreme prejudice. Suddenly he leaped. Not at me but at Pedro. This was a tragic error on his part. He was about to taste the wrath of the twelve step program in all of its violent and bloody glory. Nobody touches Pedro!
The assailant was quickly swarmed and subdued by myself and several others. A middle-aged lady sat on his chest while we held down his arms and legs. It was then decided that an ambulance should be called for the poor bastard as he was obviously in the throes of some kind of drug withdrawal frenzy. A man we will call “Ted” came in with a set of bungee cords suggesting we lash our patient to a chair while we waited. Thankfully, he was ignored. After about ten minutes, the EMT’s arrived and removed our visitor.
This event was further proof to me that an AA meeting is a lot like a evening at the bar. The same people you would run into at a bar are there, we just don’t have any alcohol. People tell stories
about getting drunk or stoned that always end with the statement,” I’m much better now though.” It’s a real close family of regulars much like your local corner bar.
It is this close “family” that has helped me stay sober for over two months now. I like to think that I could get through my addiction to alcohol all on my own but I know that I am helpless to its power. It was AA that helped me to realize this. Bizarre people may gather with each other while they are in recovery, but misery does love company. Everyone in the program is better for it. After all, we have
Pedro. –Dave

My last post promised to give you an ad-for-ad commentary on all the Superbowl ads. I only got as far as #50, as I was completely worn-out and it was going on 3:00 AM. Well, here I am again to give you the rest – ads 51 through 58. The humor factor seriously diminished by this point, so if you’re looking for the funny ads, read “Superbowl Advertainment, The First Fifty Ads.”

(The only pharmaceutical ad I saw during the Superbowl was for the erectile dysfunction pill, Cialis. Not funny. NEXT!)

Ad #51
Company: Verizon
Product: Verizon Wireless V-Cast
Gimmick: Video content now deliverable to your phone, celebrities get tiny.
Highlight: Shaq in danger of being squished by a basketball.
Comments: It gets the point across, but that’s about all.

Ad #52
Company: Toyota
Product: Prius Hybrid
Gimmick: “The world’s been moving, it just hasn’t been moving forward.” Shows people walking and driving in place.
Highlight: Jack Russell Terrier walking in place. Almost spooky.
Comments: The whole treadmill-motion effect was very nicely done. Who knew everybody could moonwalk?

Ad #53
Company: Anheuser-Busch YET AGAIN!!!
Product: Budweiser Select
Gimmick: We could have been making a better beer all along… we’ve just waited until now to do it.
Highlight: Nuthin’
Comments: Better Beer Through Chemistry… science!

Ad #54
Company: MasterCard
Product: Debit MasterCard
Gimmick: Put all our favorite food product mascots around a table and show them actually getting along. A very effective way to advertise for a bajillion companies while having MasterCard front the cash for it.
Highlight: Poor Mr. Clean has to do the dishes.
Comments: A good commercial overall. Very nice. Who knew the Vlasic Stork was the life of the party? Groucho Marx should have been a pickle addict instead of a heavy smoker. Who knows? He could still be with us today. Unlikely. He’d be 115 years old. The Stork carries the torch. Filled with pickle vinegar, he’s never gonna die.

Ad #55
Company: Emerald of California
Product: Nuts
Gimmick: A father discourages his little gir from eating his Emerald Nuts by telling her if she does so, unicorns will disappear forever.
Highlight: Other mythical beings appear, including Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny to shame the mean daddy.
Comments: That’s something I’d say to my nephews.

Ad #56
Company: Anheuser-Busch
Product: Budweiser
Gimmick: Cedric declines a beer at a noisy house party because he’s the designated driver. He tries to convey his intentions via hand signals and everybody thinks its a dance. Lemmings.
Highlight: The expression of exasperation on poor Cedric’s face.
Comments: Budweiser, in the course of their ads have shown you that they are funny, thoughful, compassionate, patriotic and that they care about YOU, the customer. Psychology! MORE SCIENCE!!!

Ad #57
Company: Career Builder
Product: Careerbuilder.com
Gimmick: More of the guy who works with monkeys.
Highlight: “I just think it’s a bad idea to name a product “The Titanic.” The boardroom goes ape. The chimpanzee president’s expressions are lovely as another chimp literally kisses his ass.
Comments: There’s been a pretty strong negative reaction to these ads. Some say that they can’t touch Monster’s old ad of Superbowl fame. The ones where kids say “When I grow up…” I beg to differ. The actor in this ad carries off the feeling of helplessness perfectly. More than a few people went to work this morning thinking “I work with a bunch of monkeys, too.” It’s funny, and it works.

Ad #58
Company: Paramount
Product: Sahara
Gimmick: Put Matthew McConaughey in an Indiana Jones-style action film.
Highlight: “We’re going up river to the ship of death!” McConaughey hasn’t had B-Movie dialogue like that since “Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation”
Comments: Don’t get worked up. Had nothing to do with “Star Trek: The Next Generation.”
That’s it for the Superbowl ads this year. Altogether, a weak showing. Notably missing: Apple, Geico, Aflac and a bunch of others I’m sure could have produced more memorable spots. Most ads this year from a single company: Anheuser-Busch. Dominant theme this year: Monkeys, or Chimpanzees. Whatever. –Mike

It was a heartbreak of a Superbowl for me this year. So, instead of concentrating on the game itself, I decided to do an ad-for-ad commentary on this year’s advertising entertainment.

Ad #1
Company: Columbia Pictures
Product: Triple X State Of The Union
Gimmick: Replace Vin Diesel with Ice Cube and pretend that the second round of schlock is just as hot as the first should have been, but wasn’t. <–??
Highlight: Finding out that Samuel L. Jackson reprises his old role. His contract must be a mess.
Comments: A classic display of panic re-casting when your trademark actor refuses an obvious action shite-fest.

Ad #2
Company: Verizon Wireless
Product: Verizon Wireless
Gimmick: Chimps with bananas mimicking the “Can you hear me now?” Guy.
Highlight: Actually getting a chimpanzee to accurately mimic the “Can you hear me now?” Guy.
Comments: Makes you realize how easy that guy’s job really is.

Ad #3
Company: Blockbuster
Product: Blockbuster Online
Gimmick: A man tells his wife he’s going to pick up a movie from Blockbuster, drives to his mailbox and grabs an envelope. Drives back to house.
Highlight: Nuthin’
Comments: The only thing this ad does is confirm how lazy most Americans truly are. A little late to compete with the Netflix, dontcha think, guys?

Ad #4
Company: Pizza Hut
Product: Dippin’ Strips
Gimmick: Put Muppets around a pizza; hilarity ensues
Highlight: The two old geezer Muppets commenting “It looks like the pig’s hitting the sauce again!”
Comments: Those damn Muppets have some staying power. Their contract must be a mess.

Ad #5
Company: Nascar
Product: Daytona 500
Gimmick: Nascar racing if it were made into a ride at a Nascar theme park.
Highlight: Nuthin’.
Comments: If Nascar were a ride, don’t get in the #3 car. Sorry.

Ad #6
Company: Ford Motor Company
Product: Mustang Convertible
Gimmick: A police officer pulls to a stop at a crossroads in the middle of a desolate winter wasteland. A Ford Mustang convertible is stopped at the green light. The officer gets out to investigate…
Highlight: …and finds the driver frozen to death behind the wheel with an orgasmic expression of glee on his face!
Comments: The narrator’s commentary “You just don’t introduce a convertible this irresistible in the middle of Winter” makes this otherwise Darwin Award-winning tragedy somewhat funny.

Ad #7
Company: Anheuser Busch
Product: Bud Light
Gimmick: A fraidy-cat skydiver refuses to jump. The instructor tosses out a six pack of Bud Light and says “Not even for a six pack of Bud Light!?”
Highlight: The pilot jumps out without a parachute for the budget Ambrosia of the gods.
Comments: The skydiver is screwed.

(The next ad was for contacts. There’s nothing funny about contacts. SKIP!)

Ad #8
Company: Warner Brothers
Product: Constantine
Gimmick: Put Keanau Reeves in a comic-book movie about a savior caught between worlds.
Highlight: When Neo, er, Constantine says “you do this, there’s no turning back.”
Comments: He’s the same guy! The same damn guy!!!

Ad #9
Company: Pepsi
Product: Diet Pepsi
Gimmick: P Diddy hitches a ride to an awards ceremony in a Diet Pepsi truck, starting a new trend in ManVan-ery.
Highlight: The jacked-up Diet Pepsi truck, maybe.
Comments: Don’t encourage them. Don’t.

Ad #10
Company: Bubblicious
Product: Bubble Gum
Gimmick: Flavor a bubble gum and name it after an NBA star.
Highlight: Nuthin’.
Comments: Here’s to hoping that the new LeBron <–? flavor doesn’t taste like him.

Ad #11
Company: Olympus
Product: m: robe camera/music player
Gimmick: Watch people dance unnaturally and take snapshots of their freakish display of double-jointedness.
Highlight: Nuthin’.
Comments: Huh. A camera and a music player. What next? A toaster oven/DVD player? I want one thing that’s good at what it does. My camera need not serenade me.

Ad #12
Company: Walt Disney Pictures
Product: The Pacifier
Gimmick: Put hard-core action star Vin Diesel in a kid’s movie. Everybody will love it!
Highlight: A little kid stumbles out of the carpool van after a screeching halt screaming “LAND!!!”
Comments: XXX goes on domestic duty. This is the script he chose rather than taking on Triple X: State of the Union. Tells you something.

Ad #13
Company: FedEx Kinkos
Product: FedEx Kinkos
Gimmick: Bear and Burt Reynolds dancing, with Burt ending up getting kicked in the balls.
Highlight: Burt Reynolds getting kicked in the balls by a bear.
Comments: An ad that makes fun of the medium. Accurate, and damn that Burt can dance.

Ad #14
Company: Anheuser-Busch
Product: Bud Light
Gimmick: Show two guys sitting at a bar, talking about fantasies. One of the guys says his fantasy is to be stuck on a desert isle with Bud Light and two beautiful ladies.
Highlight: Cut to the fantasy, and both ladies start henpecking our daydreaming friend to do chores like hut-building and raft-making.
Comments: Anhauser-Bush has this advertising thing down to a science. If you don’t laugh, you at least get a good “hhmph!” out of it.

Ad #15
Company: Volvo
Product: Volvo XC90 V8
Gimmick: Compare a Volvo to a Saturn V rocket.
Highlight: Let Richard Branson tempt you with a chance to win a flight into space aboard Virgin Galactic.
Comments: And I thought this car could take me to the moon.

Ad #16
Company: Pepsi
Product: Diet Pepsi
Gimmick: Pitch your product as one that makes a guy incredibly sexy, even to other guys.
Highlight: Bee-Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive”
Comments: Coke did this years ago.

Ad #17
Company: Godaddy.com
Product: Godaddy.com
Gimmick: Have busty Nikki Cappelli wear a tank top with the company logo emblazoned upon it.
Highlight: Wardrobe malfunction.
Comments: Old man with emergency respirator. He uses that to fight back the emphysema. What’s worse, he probably still smokes. Get thetruth.com kids on that geezer’s ass.

Ad #18
Company: Anheuser-Busch
Product: Bud Light, again
Gimmick: Man steals girlfriend after passing off tickets to the Big Game.
Highlight: “Sharon?” “Yeah, she’s sharin’, allright”
Comments: Just keep drinking, buddy. The alcohol will dry those tears.

Ad #19
Company: Columbia Pictures/MTV Films
Product: The Longest Yard
Gimmick: A prison football film with Adam Sandler and Chris Rock.
Highlight: “You can duuuu it!!!” Rob’s now-famous cameo.
Comments: I think it’s a comedy. Still, prison ain’t funny.

Ad #20
Company: McDonald’s
Product: Gross Food
Gimmick: Go to McDonald’s in the hopes that you get a non-biodegradable fry shaped like Abraham Lincoln so you can sell it for a mountain of cash in an online auction.
Highlight: One of the first displays of McDonald’s truthfully advertising its products as something other than food.
Comments: I’m still not “lovin’ it.” I just saw “Super Size Me” yesterday. Plus the new Mark Knopfler song makes me hate Ray Kroc even more than I used to. Never been fond of clowns, either.

Ad #21
Company: Visa
Product: Visa Check Card
Gimmick: Marvel heroes respond to the screams of a woman in distress. When she says her Check Card has been stolen, they get annoyed and walk off at the false alarm.
Highlight: The late appearance of Underdog.
Comments: At least it’s not that God-forsaken and overplayed Yankees/Steinbrenner ad.

Ad #22
Company: Ameriquest
Product: Mortgages! Fun!!
Gimmick: A man having an innocent phone conversation tells his mother she’s getting robbed in a business deal. The clerk in the convenience store overhears it and pepper-sprays the fool.
Highlight: Old lady with a cattle prod.
Comments: “Don’t judge too quickly.” A nice ad. Someone at Ameriquest grew some balls.

Ad #23
Company: Quizno’s
Product: Sub sandwiches
Gimmick: Talking baby. Ugh.
Highlight: Talking baby. Ugh.
Comments: The talking baby show was cancelled a few years back. I hope he gets eaten by the pets.com sock-puppet dog, similarly resurrected for cheap car financing. “WE LOVE THE SUBS!” Those little monsters had more dignity than this.

Ad #24
Company: Columbia Pictures
Product: Hitch
Gimmick: Will Smith plays a ladies’ man giving pointers to hopeless losers.
Highlight: Will Smith slapping an annoying fat white guy.
Comments: I hope Michael Moore is next in line, Will.

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I’ve never fancied myself a Sunday political stumper. In a sea of rabid, opinion-oriented media, I fear my humble views sound far too diplomatic to appear authoritative. But that’s what’s great about the blogosphere. Opinions can be cast about the tumultuous waters and people can either ride them to and fro until they settle on something they agree with, or they can grab hold of an idea and be carried into uncharted territory. They may not know where they’ll end up, but that’s how the adventurous spirit benefits the species. Such behavior results in innovation. That’s why this form of communication and idea delivery is so promising. It’s in the spirit riding about the net in search of new ideas that I contribute to the blogging process.
No one person’s opinion is perfect, and I don’t pretend that my musings are of any particular innovative quality. What I do suggest, however, is that the combination of multiple opinions in the spirit of good-hearted dialogue will set in motion the forces of critical thought (in or out of the academic theater) so that anyone can potentially form educated insight from exposure to millions of voices. In this tirade, I will tackle what I see as the problematic fragmentation of the American populace and mine for truth and distortion in the 2005 State of the Union Address.
I cannot stand the all-too-common belch of rhetoric and smug proselytizing on behalf of any political structure or value system. I have always attempted to avoid being a mouthpiece for powers-that-be, but neither am I a vehement opponent of any school of thought. It is in dialogue that I believe our ultimate societal reconciliation will occur.
I fear the current media trend present on major news outlets that tend to divide us into camps of the 2004 Electoral maps. We have been led to believe that we are placed in a struggle of religious conservatives versus liberal radicals. Yet in day-to-day interaction, I find such constraints absurd. When confronted with our individual problems and close-quarter relationships, we tend to put differences aside and believe that no matter what our political preferences are, we are all in the same soup just trying to get by.
There’s a quite entertaining serial floating about the Web these days entitled Red Versus Blue. It consists of soldiers based in the fictional game world of Halo bickering and name-calling with the addition of high-yield explosives and automatic weapons. No matter what carnage ensues, Red team and Blue team reunite every episode to continue duking it out over petty grievances and trivial insults. As much fun as this serial is to watch, there is a real world analogue being played out, sans weapons, in the real world today.
This battle takes place largely in the hallowed halls of government and in small outbreaks of fisticuffs on college campuses and tightly-wound urban centers. The balance of the American population is not jaded, illiterate or deaf to the particulars of political discourse. It is only that the balance recognizes that a population as diverse as ours must find common ground in order to function as a society. The crass and ancient terms being cast about these days by the pseudo-intellectual campus movements like “plutocracy” are way too simplistic for a complex social and economic system like ours. I’m not denying the real and present problems of accurate political representation and minority rights recognition, I’m just wanting to look at the problems as the complex monsters they really are. Most people don’t like to do that, because the longer you have to pay attention to problems and search for viable solutions, the less riled you are likely to remain. People like being angry. Anger is a trigger for release, a frame of mind where many find a voice they never know they had. But when anger abates and the problems of the day remain, we must confront cold and unemotional fact. If anger alone could change the world’s state of affairs, then our problems would have been solved millennia ago. It is only in the quiet downtime after heated outburst that we recognize the problems we allude to in states of emotional overload. The sooner our society learns this, the better. That said, and political parody aside, I will try to analyze President Bush’s State of the Union Address.
Like I said earlier in my Inaugural analysis, I make every effort to watch these political events on C-Span. I’m tired of the interruptions and asides all-too-common on the network and cable news outlets. C-Span may lack drama, but it’s the closest thing to unfiltered political voyeurism that the common man can get. It is true that the lens of the camera eye still distorts our perceptions and colors images in hyper-realistic hues of grandeur. Still, the modern eye has become accustomed to such distortion and the mind can compensate with due skepticism whatever delusion it is fed, if it has the appropriate emotional detachment from the source.
The President’s opening words evoked the values we as a nation hold dear, that our officials are freely elected by the vote of the people. He added that now Afghanistan and Iraq are well on their way to having similar systems, where true power is not in the hands of bully regimes, but in the purview of those who are governed. I find this sentiment admirable, if not somewhat flawed. After all, we do have certain powers of vote, but ultimately, the government (by means of military might and technological prowess) has the power to subdue political dissent. In order to restore the founders’ intended balance between the government and those governed, we must take a long and hard look at the current electoral system. We now have at our disposal a means by which a true popular vote could be implemented and accurately tallied. Our recognition of this sort of system is still in its infancy, however, and we must not be deluded into thinking that we can have a trustworthy political tally immediately. However, in order to transition effectively into the 21st century and beyond, movement toward a true popular vote must be addressed.
Just as important, our elected officials must recognize that in order for our Union to remain strong and just to its citizenry, they have the burden of performing their duties to uncommon standards of wisdom and justice. As it stands, our system is ailing under the weight of legislative partisanship and career-mindedness. No matter what side of the political fence you stand on, how can your needs be accurately addressed in such a self-serving, back-patting milieu? The powers-that-be, now matter how earnest they seem in sound bites and silky rhetoric, are swayed more by the stuffing in their suitcoats than they are by the threat of election upset. Their scrutinizing over voter boundary in various districts all-but assures that their constituency is drawn and then placated on a prophetic canvas of career safety. The largest corporate powers on Earth are located in our own towns’ economic centers. Their largesse is not overlooked in our most hallowed halls of freedom. If these monolithic structures of commerce offend us, it is indeed up to us to acquiesce to convenience or make the personal decision not to purchase their wares. After all, our dollars become theirs, and no matter how complex the system sounds, the paper trail is quite simple. Money is power, our strongest remaining influence in this age of dubious governmental benevolence.
But don’t believe for a second that money is the sole friend of either dominant political party. Both crave the comfort and luxury that wealth affords. This is the backhanded nature of the American Dream. All people tend toward apathy the more comfortable they become. It is only in times of personal discomfort that we recognize something is amiss. The proper balance of voice and principle must be found if we are to bring those who are disenfranchised into the view of the elected elite.
Indeed voice and principle, in coordination with prudence in our daily affairs, affects the route of monetary flow. Brute force and might cannot function without finance. The trite admonition “Act Locally, Think Globally” comes to mind when confronted with this course of action. Yet to be an effective body that shapes the actions of those who govern us (and not vice versa) we must sometimes heed the worn truisms of our forebears. It is not wrong to seek wealth and comfort. It is our nature to provide for ourselves and those we love. However, it is when the desire for wealth alone becomes our chief motivator that the aspirations of the common man become the cancerous ambitions of uncompromising power structures. This is the curse of ego, and it is counter to the positive function of society. In order to rein in the betraying nature of the elected and move them to more accurately serve the public interest, it is the responsibility of the public to behave to the standards they expect to be governed by.
These same principles of self-governance and mindful action must be employed if we are to address the less-arcane aspects of governmental function, Social Security included. The freedoms we currently enjoy are fraught with potential pitfalls of personal indiscretion. Our financial behavior in current consumer culture is in direct opposition to long-term financial security. Most of us recognize this disparity, but few do anything about it and ultimately empower the government we both love and distrust to ransom us from our folly. History has shown us that sometimes national and global economic downturns can have a damning effect on our best efforts to provide for ourselves adequately; but rational and sane efforts at fiscal restraint can go a long way to buffer our earnings against the storms of inevitable financial hardship. For those of us who have the presence of mind to do so, we must act in accordance with our best interests. For if we don’t, who will? We cannot entrust a government to salvage a system burdened by widespread indiscretion. The words “security” and “entitlement” are not terms with much in common. However, we currently behave as though they are. The Social Security system is being spoken of in most circles as some kind of “National Retirement Program.” However, it was formed at the lowest point in our nation’s economic vulnerability to prevent massive starvation and riot. It was part of President Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal with America to get us on our feet again, not to babysit us in perpetuity. Most of us have the means to adequately look after ourselves. For the small minority of those who are mentally or physically incapable of such responsibility, Social Security or other programs of public benevolence should be there for them. If the Social Security program was guaranteed on an as-needed basis, then fewer people would be administered to. This would result in a lower tax for all, allowing the majority of us to keep more of our money. For all to benefit from such a safety net program is to invite solvency issues such as the ones we face shortly after mid-century. For those who grumble that all who pay in should reap proportionally, I simply ask ‘what personal good have you ever seen from the majority of your phone taxes and touch-tone fees?’
If everything I’m talking about seems to mix the function of government into a new hybrid structure of personal freedom tied to public duty, then so be it. That’s what I’m after. I’m not claiming that all these ideas are great and ultimately practical. I’m simply trying, as I said at the outset, to contribute my voice to the sea of millions in hopes that the stimulation of widespread discourse leads to the betterment of our nation and world as a whole. Maybe I’ll write about something less heady tomorrow. –Mike