Monday, January 24, 2011

Like an Annoying Neighbor

I think I’ve turned into a commercial snob. It probably comes from living with Robbie and Mark Buss, because the Buss family always mutes commercials. Now that commercials aren’t muted, I can’t stand most of them. I’m always over critical of them. It’s like I’m unintentionally looking for them to say something stupid or make an outrageous claim that they can’t come close to fulfilling. Some commercials make it easier than others.
For example, the State Farm commercials. I’m not talking about the ones where people sing their theme song and an agent pops up or their spouse is instantly hotter (although I could). I’m talking about the ones with the the third runner up for the Tom Cruise look-alike contest. Like this one:

It is nice to know you can trust people. Except, I don’t think we can trust people. It’s easy to set it up to seem like you can trust people. I’ll trust someone to give me back my correct change if the script calls for it. But when there is no script, people don’t always get their change back. When there is no script, your co-worker who you let live with you out of the goodness of your heart will steal $300 in video games from you. When there is no script, the kid working at Sonic will give you back change for $10 when you gave him a $20. When there is no script, Arizona will lead the nation in identity theft. I can write a book about a black family living in North Dakota and then claim that there are plenty of black people in North Dakota, but that won’t prove anything. Using fiction to state fact does not prove your point well.

And don’t forget this one:

This one bothers me to no end. This time, they didn’t even manipulate the situation to make their point like they should have. I get that they were at a place that can hold a lot of people, just like their insurance agency. But they really didn’t think that one through. How can you stand inside of a baseball stadium after having bought concessions and claim that saving money is an American pastime? I’ve sold candy at a baseball stadium. I know that the price that they charge for snacks is outrageous. It’s like going to Westboro Baptist Church and claiming that tolerance is the American way. It just doesn’t add up.

When I buy Zacchaeus and have to pay for insurance, I don’t want to go to State Farm. I don’t care that they have more clients than Geico and Progressive combined. Especially if all those clients think it’s reasonable to buy a hot dog for $17. Give me the gecko. Give me the assassinated president from 24. Give me Flo (I’m kidding; I want to kick her in the throat). You can keep your second to last samurai.

Now excuse me while I write a book about a North Dakotan black family.