I laughed; I cried; I horked. Therianthropes and abominations...

You know how I was talking about the Old Spice centaur recently? Well, apparently, the Web site for the Double Impact shower gel shows the male model in hybrids with other animals and things [YouTube video here].

1. Man/slug. [Why are his pecs heaving like that?]

2. Man/cannon [aimed right at you, ready to fire balls].

3. Man/"mighty redwood tree."

4. Man/cobra.

5. Man/octopus.

6. Man/fishstick.

7. Man/tap-dancing cowboy.

8. Man/tank [gun pointed directly at you].

Eurgh. That video made me want to throw up. I love therianthropes, even if they are people combined with tentacular things or snakes, so I'm certainly not puking at the combination of humans with non-human animals. I'm puking at the crappy artistic values of the hybridization and the undiscriminating stupidity of the philosophical concept behind the commercial. Not only are all the non-human parts obviously static and image-doctored, but they are also completely inconsistent, including living things, non-living things, other humans, non-human animals, plants, food and weapons. Pick a class of objects and stick with it, people. Seriously, watching that video gives me a stomach-turning case of thematic whiplash.

More anti-Palin sexism

Oh joy, there's more misogynistic goodness added to my SocIm post about anti-Palin sexism, including more heinous examples contributed by commenters. There's enough material to criticize her on, including her anti-choice, pro-guns, anti-sex-end, pro-abstinence, politically corrupt, nepotistic wheeling and dealing. One's sex is not a point of criticism, mockery or contention. Grow up, you stupid bigots! Man, I get so exhausted at societal stupidity sometimes. 

Wheelchairs keep you from EVER having fun.

So implies this ad for Goodyear Tires from the August 2, 1937 issue of Life. Everyone looks depressed about the fact that the boy's in a wheelchair, from the boy himself to his sister and even the dog. I'd be kind of depressed too if I were teetering on the edge of a porch [notice that Sis has one leg up on a step] without a freakin' guard rail.

Besides the equation of wheelchair use and complete cessation of enjoyable life, also note ad's use to guilt to sell you tires: "Buy these tires or your son will end up CRIPPLED and MISERABLE because YOU didn't by blow-out-proof tires."

Thank you, Gallery of Graphic Design, for this ad, along with an endless bounty of other 20th-century ads.
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Spam + peaches + broiler = fiesta?

An ad for "Spam Fiesta Peach Cups" in Family Circle, April, 1956, would have you think so. Even given some of the gloriously flamboyant casseroles of this period, this recipe still sounds like the half-baked brain fart of a desperate, hung-over promotions board hopped up on Vivarin.( Read more... )