After a one-week test run of a Chia Obama in its Tampa and Chicago markets, Walgreens has pulled the product from its shelves. According to a company statement issued by Walgreens spokesman Robert Elfinger:
We decided to pull the product because it didn’t fit with our corporate image. We also didn’t want to be subject to any misinterpretation over the product. People could interpret it through a political viewpoint or other viewpoints and we want to avoid that situation.
I can understand Walgreens’ position (their image isn’t exactly hip, unless it has something to do with actual hips) and, happily, there are still online venues selling the product (Amazon, Drugstore.com), so it’s not as if this will be the product that never was. The president of Joseph Enterprises and creator of the Chia Obama, Joe Pedott, is still sick over Walgreens’ decision, stating that the clay bust is:
…hope, courage and pro-American.
According to Pedott, he even showed the bust to the Reverend Jesse Jackson during a chance encounter in a Chicago eatery, and the Reverend stated that it was a fine product.
So there’s that.
As for me, I’ve never owned a Chia Pet before but, in less than a week, I’ll never be able to say that again.
In honor of Easter Week, one of my loyal readers sent this to me and, wow. I…wow.
Last year I complained about religious action figures not coming with enough cool accessories and, while I am grateful to be heard, I never said anything about creepy, glow-in-the-dark hands.
With hands like that, I’ll bet Jesus could heal the lame by the simple expedient of scaring them shitless.
Jesus: Rise, take up thy bed, and walk.
Cripple: Aaaah! Okay, I’m up! I’m up! Get the fuck away!
The loaves, fishes and amphora (dude, just look it up) are pretty cool, but I would have maybe preferred the Spear of Destiny and a big honking boulder, or perhaps an accompanying action leper with removable sores.
My mission is now to devise and market a product so preposterous that the inevitable derision and parody turn it into a meme. Then I’ll have two markets:
People who buy my product sincerely. In addition to making money from these deserving chumps, I’ll keep their contact information in my list of Humans To Be Bred for Food When Society Collapses.
People who buy my product to be cool and ironic. They’ll go into my list of Humans To Be Eaten Immediately When Society Collapses.
A friend of mine was recently burning away a bit of her soul shopping at Wal-Mart when she came across this:
The product description over at Amazon comes on a little strong, as if responding to the imagined question, “Jesus? Who the hell is Jesus?”
Jesus was the most important person in history. Ever. He was born in a manger, raised as a carpenter, and crucified on a cross. He healed the sick. He raised the dead…
And He had realistic eyes. And many, many points of articulation.
It’s hard to read the text, but just below “I Talk Try Me!” the packaging advises, “I come to life with just the push of a button.” Wow, that would make Catholic Mass a whole lot shorter…
One 2 Believe also sells a talking Mary, Moses, David and Esther (Esther?). If these sell well, perhaps they will expand the product line to biblical figures that I’d like to buy, and, for the love of poseable Jesus, make with some accessories. Right off the top of my head – Judas (tree), Lazarus (stone), Lot’s Wife (before and after), Jezebel (pack of dogs), Job (various sores), and John the Baptist (removable head) – and I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee.
One customer review let me know that I am not alone in my amusement:
This does get 5 stars for durability though. I’ve accidentally scratched or poked some holes in my Jesus, and within a couple of days, the plastic seals right up again. I don’t know what they used to make this, but it’s great!
I have written about “Double Take Advertising” (previously, previously). A friend of mine recently snapped this image, which, as far as I am concerned, is a sub genre: “Double Take WTF? Advertising”.
The distinction is subtle; each triggers a double take, but in the latter case, one cannot help but wonder, “WTF?”
I am beginning to suspect that the deep thinkers responsible for this sort of packaging are banking on consumers taking two looks at it, then saying to themselves, “I have got to show this to the [wife|guys at the office|therapist],” thus securing a sale not based on the desirability of the can’s contents, but its humor value. These marketeers have not thought their cunning plan all the way through, however. They did not take into account: a) camera phones, or b) that this market has already been cornered by Mad magazine (Acrobat pdf, page 4).
So I just got a cat and, in preparation for her arrival, I went a little nuts on toys at the pet store. Assorted busy balls, fishing pole with feathered doodad, radio-controlled mouse, thing-on-a-spring and, of course, a laser pointer.
Good packaging catches your eye, draws you in, then instills in you the feeling that your entire life has been a mere prelude to this moment. YOU MUST HAVE THIS CONSUMER ITEM.
The laser pointer’s packaging wasn’t like that, but I found it very amusing all the same:
How do you tell if a reptile is intrigued? Does it stroke its chin, musing? Does it produce a pipe, drawing on it in deep reflection? The answer is, “You just know.” Below is a comparison of a lizard prior to the introduction of a laser pointer, and after:
After spending a couple of weeks thinking about a suitable entry for my 100th blog post, I ended up deciding just to play to my base and go with scatological humor. This weekend I saw the bottle depicted below:
At a glance, I swore that it said “Baby Feces” (previously). And I’m starting to think it’s a new marketing strategy. Double Take Advertising.
In a previous post, I proposed speaking gibberish to telemarketers. While perusing old posts over at JWZ, I came across the Telemarketer Counter-Script by Martijn Engelbregt. The “Difficult Conversation Moves” section is priceless.
Recently I was running an errand when a sign caught my eye. As I drove closer, the sign persisted in saying what it said. I actually wondered, “Is there a big market for that sort of thing? Do people come in on their lunch hour, or what?”
Last night I was watching the Lost season finale (pretty much the only broadcast television I’ve watched in a month) when I saw a commercial for Breyers ice cream. I swore the package said “Double Chum“. Again with the thinking, “Is there a big market for that sort of thing?”
After I finished being amused, I remembered when I was 18 and spent a summer teaching magic at a performing arts camp outside of Hancock, New York. The only entertainment after the campers went to bed (aside from fucking other staff) was the only bar within walking distance, whose sole reason for existing was us. It was named, simply, SALOON, spelled out on the face of the structure in a Western, wanted-poster-style font:
At any sort of distance, it read SHLOON, which was what everyone called it and inevitably pronounced it after we had had a few anyway.
