Last night we went to an informal dinner party. Nat's Epicurus seminar professor invited everyone to his (newly-acquired!) house for an Indian dinner and, of course, lots of philosophy talk.
The tables were set buffet-style, with labels written underneath each dish indicating what was in the bowl and how spicy it was. Quite a nice touch for us spice-conscious folks. His girlfriend had happily made all the food, from the spicy carrots & potatoes with coconut and curried lentils, right down to the raita and mint chutney. They heated the naan and even fried up the papadum right before we ate! Aaahhhh, papadum, my good friend. To top it all off, there was even a plate filled with burfi, one of my favorite desserts, and a couple of bowls of candied and non-candied fennel seeds. Pure delight.
The funniest moment of the evening for me came when another professor talked about a man he knew at Oxford College who ate bananas in a most peculiar manner. First, he would sort of massage the banana.
"That's how i make banana bread, sometimes!" i interjected. (it really is a time-saver.)
Then, he would cut it neatly in half, and grabbing one of the halves, proceed to extrude the mashed banana pulp rather vulgarly into his mouth. A sort of sucking in, toothpaste-squeezy motion. We were all cringing at his description, of course, until he continued:
Apparently the man had been a POW in Japan (during WWII, i presume), and the mortality rate of POWs over there was something awful, like 50 percent. So eventually they began to realize that it had to do with food-borne illness, and other bacteria surrounding the fact that they couldn't wash their hands. So it was paramount not to touch your food with your hands. This is how he learned the banana trick; it was a habit he had never grown out of. Of course, we were all shamed into thoughtful silence with this information.
Conversation eventually turned to how you can actually open a banana more easily from the bottom, or from what we (at least here in the states) think of as the bottom- the part without the convenient tab, or handle. Nat was extremely skeptical of this claim, but a couple of the other guys assured him that it was true. Fortunately, Monte had a bunch of bananas at hand, so the experiment began. i think Nat was somewhat stunned to discover how easy it actually was to open from the other end, as was i.
It reminded me of a cereal ad i saw once, featuring the requisite pitcher of milk and glass of o.j. in the background, and a perfect, opened banana off to one side. Something about the picture nagged at me, and i couldn't figure it out for a good ten minutes or so. Finally i realized- hey, nobody opens bananas like that! What gives? But, i guess now i've learned that some people do.
And that's the end of that.
A bunch of men sitting around, massaging bananas.
High point, for sure.
Showing posts with label ads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ads. Show all posts
Thursday, June 5
Saturday, April 5
i call bullshit.
You know what i hate? Advertising.
i hate ads that insult my intelligence. i hate dumbed-down language and i hate how there are ten million prescription drug ads everywhere these days. i hate commercials that yell at me. You know what? If you have to resort to screaming in order to hawk your product/program/New Wonderful Invention, it's probably not that important, which is why you felt you needed the gratuitous volume. Also, i hate ads that tell me, directly, to do something: "You have thousands of pores on your face. Make them look smaller."
Huh?
...No! Don't tell me what to do! Are we children? Do we need these unattached voices telling us how they think we should be living our lives? Do we need to have 50 choices when presented with the relatively simple task of purchasing a toothbrush?
But the worst thing of all, in a way: the celebrity sell-outs. In high school i started to notice this phenomenon, maybe because that's when you're really trying to suss yourself out, and you project yourself onto someone else; an ideal, an idol. Like having a dress you made simply by looking at a mannequin, and it never quite fits when you actually put it on. But you admire them, anyway, for the inspiration they gave.
So when these people, these people that you admire for their singing skills/acting talent/physical beauty/uniqueness in a craft, begin showing up and speaking force-fed lines about products and services that you feel you are way ahead of, it's a huge let-down. I'm talking to you, Kate Winslet, Robert fucking DeNiro. What are you people doing? Don't advocate credit card use! People in this country are ridiculously in debt as it is! And Kate, well- you're almost worse, because it's the young girls that look up to you, isn't it. People who have no conception of credit, let alone budgets or interest rates or bounced checks or collections offices.
Nat knows all about how i feel with regards to this issue, and his answer has always been, "but they are actors. They pretend as a career; they are acting in these commercials as well. What's the difference?" and the difference is: In a film, they are sort of asking you to suspend belief. You know it's surface, shallow, and fake, in a way (unless of course, they achieve the rare feat of truly losing themselves in their character, in which case- huzzah!). But when that same hollowness comes across when they are portraying themselves, that's when the truth prickles. They are doing it for money, people. Nothing more. And one could argue that they are simply acting for money, as well- it is their job. It is how they make a living. But there is absolutely no meaning or culture or history or stimulation in standing in as a prop for a campaign to sell deodorant, or credit cards, or soft drinks, or any of the other myriad useless bric-a-brac with which we are constantly being bombarded in order to live what we are told is a truly "fulfilling" life. So to the celebrities, i say:
Stop being a part of the demand. Without Demand, there would no more goddamn Supply, don't you get that?!?
Thank you.
p.s.) Obviously, i have no problem with celebrity being used for good, such as soliciting for charities and the like. It's still mildly depressing, that it has to come to that level, but at least it is easier to believe that it is something that they actually care about, not to mention that it may even do the world some good, somehow.
i hate ads that insult my intelligence. i hate dumbed-down language and i hate how there are ten million prescription drug ads everywhere these days. i hate commercials that yell at me. You know what? If you have to resort to screaming in order to hawk your product/program/New Wonderful Invention, it's probably not that important, which is why you felt you needed the gratuitous volume. Also, i hate ads that tell me, directly, to do something: "You have thousands of pores on your face. Make them look smaller."
Huh?
...No! Don't tell me what to do! Are we children? Do we need these unattached voices telling us how they think we should be living our lives? Do we need to have 50 choices when presented with the relatively simple task of purchasing a toothbrush?
But the worst thing of all, in a way: the celebrity sell-outs. In high school i started to notice this phenomenon, maybe because that's when you're really trying to suss yourself out, and you project yourself onto someone else; an ideal, an idol. Like having a dress you made simply by looking at a mannequin, and it never quite fits when you actually put it on. But you admire them, anyway, for the inspiration they gave.
So when these people, these people that you admire for their singing skills/acting talent/physical beauty/uniqueness in a craft, begin showing up and speaking force-fed lines about products and services that you feel you are way ahead of, it's a huge let-down. I'm talking to you, Kate Winslet, Robert fucking DeNiro. What are you people doing? Don't advocate credit card use! People in this country are ridiculously in debt as it is! And Kate, well- you're almost worse, because it's the young girls that look up to you, isn't it. People who have no conception of credit, let alone budgets or interest rates or bounced checks or collections offices.
Nat knows all about how i feel with regards to this issue, and his answer has always been, "but they are actors. They pretend as a career; they are acting in these commercials as well. What's the difference?" and the difference is: In a film, they are sort of asking you to suspend belief. You know it's surface, shallow, and fake, in a way (unless of course, they achieve the rare feat of truly losing themselves in their character, in which case- huzzah!). But when that same hollowness comes across when they are portraying themselves, that's when the truth prickles. They are doing it for money, people. Nothing more. And one could argue that they are simply acting for money, as well- it is their job. It is how they make a living. But there is absolutely no meaning or culture or history or stimulation in standing in as a prop for a campaign to sell deodorant, or credit cards, or soft drinks, or any of the other myriad useless bric-a-brac with which we are constantly being bombarded in order to live what we are told is a truly "fulfilling" life. So to the celebrities, i say:
Stop being a part of the demand. Without Demand, there would no more goddamn Supply, don't you get that?!?
Thank you.
p.s.) Obviously, i have no problem with celebrity being used for good, such as soliciting for charities and the like. It's still mildly depressing, that it has to come to that level, but at least it is easier to believe that it is something that they actually care about, not to mention that it may even do the world some good, somehow.
Thursday, March 6
This is why i don't drive.
So yeah. San Diego. it is always coming up with new ways to disappoint me!
In a rather circuitous way, by airing a TV commercial that made me want to harm the ad executive(s) who thought of it.
A mother, with 2 children in tow, pops up at the local automobile manufacturing plant (i know- clever already, i'nt it?). The clearly surprised Men With Clipboards look quizzically at her; she blathers, "i'm driving 8 hours", while looking appropriately anxious about her spawn, and the men feed her the bright idea that she should purchase an automobile with not one but two DVD players, so that each precious child may watch what he or she desires! Genius! Win-win-win! Her face is pleased; i am holding back vomitous black rage on the couch.
Correct me if i'm wrong, but doesn't this illustrate a root cause of one of the biggest blights afflicting the human population- selfishness? also known as Spoiled-brat-itis? Self-centered fucker-ism? Victimitis self-entitlementata? Whew. i could go on, but i think you're gettin' it.
When i was a kid (ha ha, i grew up in the '80s, which really doesn't feel all that long ago), crammed in a VW bus with a little brother and an older sister, a dog, and sometimes even a cat as well (not joking), we had no air conditioning, no roomy seating, and certainly not no *&%@$&*@%$!! television, okay? We had books, games, warm soda, dozing off, hitting your nearest sibling, mooning the car behind you, and counting roadkill. Not sure what else there really was, but i can assure you it had nothing to do zoning out in some lobotomized, antiseptic haze and cutting off all contact with your family because gee, that would have just been so hard. (did that last part come out appropriately whiny? i sure hope so..)
And you know what? i actually had fun! can you believe it?? And my parents? Yep, both still alive. (although if they had both been in the car at the same time, maybe that would not be the case today...)
As for me? well, i guess i grew up knowing that i couldn't always have everything my little heart desired, and that the world wasn't perfect, and that sometimes we can just all get along- it's called compromise; patience; toughing it out, etc. Are these important lessons?
Damn, do you even have to ask?
Anywho, San Diego also managed to irk the hell out of me in a much more direct manner by the relentless airing of a radio ad for some car lot or auto mall somewhere in this, "America's Finest City" (oh, my god, please do not get me started on that shit-shined diamond).
The little ditty of a tune features some frighteningly-cheery sounding A.I. guy singing (along with what sounds like 10 other versions of his particular model) the hook: "....San Diego suuuUUUUUnshiiiiIIIiiine...!" and i swear, you can just picture the fucking people in their sun hats, laughing at the amazing time they're having on the beach, with their damn cooler and their fuck-all fake tan, and their damned fish tacos and 'manis' and 'pedis' and teeth polished and whitened down to the damned nubby root, wearing the latest bikini fashions and when it's all over, they'll all pile into their damned giant SUV with surfboard rack and cupholder for their constant beer-on, and an unholy sunroof because you know why?
So they can "let the Saaan Dieeeego suuuuuUUUnshiiIIiiine" in!!!!
!! ::head explodes::
In a rather circuitous way, by airing a TV commercial that made me want to harm the ad executive(s) who thought of it.
A mother, with 2 children in tow, pops up at the local automobile manufacturing plant (i know- clever already, i'nt it?). The clearly surprised Men With Clipboards look quizzically at her; she blathers, "i'm driving 8 hours", while looking appropriately anxious about her spawn, and the men feed her the bright idea that she should purchase an automobile with not one but two DVD players, so that each precious child may watch what he or she desires! Genius! Win-win-win! Her face is pleased; i am holding back vomitous black rage on the couch.
Correct me if i'm wrong, but doesn't this illustrate a root cause of one of the biggest blights afflicting the human population- selfishness? also known as Spoiled-brat-itis? Self-centered fucker-ism? Victimitis self-entitlementata? Whew. i could go on, but i think you're gettin' it.
When i was a kid (ha ha, i grew up in the '80s, which really doesn't feel all that long ago), crammed in a VW bus with a little brother and an older sister, a dog, and sometimes even a cat as well (not joking), we had no air conditioning, no roomy seating, and certainly not no *&%@$&*@%$!! television, okay? We had books, games, warm soda, dozing off, hitting your nearest sibling, mooning the car behind you, and counting roadkill. Not sure what else there really was, but i can assure you it had nothing to do zoning out in some lobotomized, antiseptic haze and cutting off all contact with your family because gee, that would have just been so hard. (did that last part come out appropriately whiny? i sure hope so..)
And you know what? i actually had fun! can you believe it?? And my parents? Yep, both still alive. (although if they had both been in the car at the same time, maybe that would not be the case today...)
As for me? well, i guess i grew up knowing that i couldn't always have everything my little heart desired, and that the world wasn't perfect, and that sometimes we can just all get along- it's called compromise; patience; toughing it out, etc. Are these important lessons?
Damn, do you even have to ask?
Anywho, San Diego also managed to irk the hell out of me in a much more direct manner by the relentless airing of a radio ad for some car lot or auto mall somewhere in this, "America's Finest City" (oh, my god, please do not get me started on that shit-shined diamond).
The little ditty of a tune features some frighteningly-cheery sounding A.I. guy singing (along with what sounds like 10 other versions of his particular model) the hook: "....San Diego suuuUUUUUnshiiiiIIIiiine...!" and i swear, you can just picture the fucking people in their sun hats, laughing at the amazing time they're having on the beach, with their damn cooler and their fuck-all fake tan, and their damned fish tacos and 'manis' and 'pedis' and teeth polished and whitened down to the damned nubby root, wearing the latest bikini fashions and when it's all over, they'll all pile into their damned giant SUV with surfboard rack and cupholder for their constant beer-on, and an unholy sunroof because you know why?
So they can "let the Saaan Dieeeego suuuuuUUUnshiiIIiiine" in!!!!
!! ::head explodes::
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