Date: Tuesday Aug. 17
Subject: NBC’s Monday Night at the Commercials
(occasionally broken up by a few minutes of an Olympic Event)
You gotta feel sorry for this kid. Between NBC, MSNBC, and most of the print media over the last month or so, he was so OVER-HYPED that he had to fail. It was a curse, a jinx — a good-old-fashioned implicit lesson from God Himself to all Americans in these troubled times.
“Don’t get cocky. You ain’t the best. Nothing is guaranteed. The Ego is deadly. Don’t count your Gold Chickens before they hatch. The one advantage the rest of the world might have over you Americans is that they’re hungrier — and they haven’t been told since birth that they deserve it.
Pride and Massive Overhyped Marketing Goeth Before a Fall.”
Too bad. The kid should just relax and swim, and the media and the commentators should, once again…
—SHUT THE FUCK UP.
…which reminds me…
I don’t mean to pick on someone who has bounced around as ‘commentator’ for basically male audience sporting events because either somebody at the networks is doin’ the Wild Thang with her or just flat out thinks she’s “cute”, but man…
Ever notice her hands? They look like they belong to Andre The Giant or some brick mason. She should wear gloves… or better yet — just go topless. I mean, that’s why she’s onscreen anyway, right?
(BTW: I got a copy of NBC’s special notes to their Olympics interviewers; it was xeroxed from a Today Show copy personalized for Matt Lauer and Katie (Cute but Evil) Couric; the document only contains one line of instructions relative to onscreen interviews.
Ask them: “Can you describe how it felt?”
Over and over and over…
Okay, bear with me here for a sec.
It’s the bottom of the ninth in the World Series;
Player A has been up 4 times and gotten 3 hits and a walk.
Player B has a higher batting average, but has been sitting on the bench all night.
Coach pulls Player A and pinch-hits with Player B for the big one.
Player B strikes out or hits into a double play: game over.
Paul Hamm was Player A last night. He was in The Zone, as close to perfection as one can get without being allowed a seat on Olympus. But the coach pulled him for a guy who was cold, but supposedly BETTER at the Still Rings.
Jeesus, at that point, Paul Hamm was so ON that you just leave him the fuck alone. Don’t even speak to the kid. Just point to the next event and smile. He’ll do the rest.
If you think silver ain’t good enough for the USA, then blame the coach. When he gets back on American soil, we should send that fucker to spend some ‘teaching’ time with Ouday and Husay. (At least the Hussein Brothers knew how to deal with sports coaches who make critical mistakes. Nothing like the threat of a long torture and a beheading with a melon baller to motivate a coach. We should try it.)
Not only are these evil fuckers selling the most dangerous, deadly, harmful addicting poisonous drug in America (alcohol), but their commercials implicitly praise and encourage our worst behavior (especially among the young, their target audience; ie get them addicted to cigs and booze early and you’ve got a customer for life; just ask Joe Camel and Spuds MacKenzie).
Anyway, during the 2004 Olympics, I’ve seen two beer commercials that stand out as especially evil, heinous, and corrupting.
The first shows a pair of college-age house-ape frat boys standing in some ancient, beautiful European plaza.
IDIOT: “Well, here we are in Europe…”
Cut to various shots of the Stupid Boyz drunkenly dancing in some marketing prick’s outdated idea of a disco bar.
Add graphic: “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, etc.”
Final shot shows last day of the week; slug-brained college pigs are standing back in the plaza.
One points his camera toward some tourist site to take his first ‘picture’ of Europe, and the viewer can only assume it’s actually some blond bimbo walking by.
Note that after a week of drinking all night, these worms don’t show the slightest hint of exhaustion or hangover.
Just Say No, America?
And where’s Nancy Reagan and the Far Right Moral Police when ya need ’em to protest something more widely corrupting than all the Marilyn Manson albums and Doom video games in the world?
This commercial not only touts beer, but it celebrates the rest of the world’s stereotype of the UGLY AMERICAN — too busy partying, drinking, farting, and belching their way across the globe to notice the Doge’s Palace or the Taj Mahal a few feet away.
The second heinous, evil, despicable, satanic, corrupting, degrading commercial shows a blond bimbo at a party; she’s dressed to the teeth, armed with a room temperature IQ, a hard body, a cleavage, and the ability to scan a roomful of people for the the richest, coolest single guy within miles.
EVIL TOADESS: “You know anybody here?”
MINDLESS MORON: “Yeah, they’re all partners at the firm…”
EVIL TOADESS: (thinking) “…mmm… RICH!”
MINDLESS MORON: …speaking of firm, you look pretty firm yourself…” (he makes a goofy horse-laff and suddenly looks as attractive as Matt Lauer with a nostril pimple)
EVIL TOADESS: (thinking) “…but not cool!”
The conversation is interrupted by a tuxedo wearing, handsome young man who politely drags her away from the rich, uncool wolfhound.
EVIL TOADESS: (thinking) “…mmm… COOL!” (speaks)
Who ARE you?”
PART-TIME ACTOR: “I’m the waiter… care for a salmon ball?”
EVIL TOADESS: (thinking) “…but not rich…” (speaks)
Come on, folks, is it just me, or are these advertising fucks celebrating and encouraging the very traits, habits, values, and manners that we try to eliminate from our culture and our kids?
Are they selling Americans something besides beer, maybe? Like ignorance, stupidity, vapidity, ethnocentricity, shallowness, and greed?
But, wait; I’m pretty familiar with contemporary America and its inhabitants — so there’s a HUGE MARKET for these things!
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