“You can’t always write a chord ugly enough to say what you want to say, so sometimes you have to rely on a giraffe filled with whipped cream.” ~ Frank Zappa

I have a commercial fetish. There is something genuinely enthralling for me when marketing is done well. It is rare that an over-hyped product can put a spin on something that jumps out at me, but Direct TV nailed it with their “Opulence, I Haz It” spot:

Okay, let’s move off the fact that having a pillow-trained teacup-sized giraffe that pouts like a Pomeranian and then relents to offer a peck is just plain cheating. It borders on too adorable to remember what the product is. What’s brilliant about it aside from the cuteness, however, is that it’s absurdist enough to make you sit up and pay attention, and go seek out the commercial again to take a second glance at what might otherwise just be dismissed as a cookie-cutter gimmick spot.

Upstaging the guy with the cheesy Eurotrash accent and the pretty ornamental girls dripping off him in their painted on (and, it should be said, yummy) slink, the giraffe (which had better be in stores by the holidays — if anything ever needed to be taken from CGI into some form of marketable toy, it’s this thing) makes you go back and see what else you missed.

Like the dog holding an ace in his paw under the table during the live-action “Dogs Playing Poker” set up. It does demonstrate something about how the bar is set these days that live dogs actually set up looking to be playing poker is NOT absurd enough to make the grade — they actually faded into the background on my first viewing.

Maybe it’s true that the devil is in the details, but of that’s so, then the devil does good work. And if the devil has teacup giraffes, he can have my credit card number.

“Curiosity killed the cat, but for a while I was a suspect.” ~ Stephen Wright

Okay so I’m not usually a cat person, but I wants me some boxed ninja cat.

“Your theory is crazy, but it’s not crazy enough to be true.” ~ Bertolt Brecht

Recently, I violated one of my own rules: I fed crazy. When I experience these moments of weakness, it is generally because I maintain the belief that when crazy speaks in lies and factual untruth you are sometimes obligated to correct the record just to make sure that someone is keeping track of reality; otherwise you end up with someone like Sarah Palin running on a national ticket. At the very least, I try to make crazy reveal its “reasoning” so that the discrepancies between their delusions and factual reality are comparable to any third party observers.

The problem becomes that if you’re going to engage crazy, it has to a lesser minion of crazy and not a full-blown Beelzebub manifestation. There has to be a bottom of the barrel. If you’re dealing with the type of crazy that will simply toss aside the barrel and start to dig in the dirt, you will never make a dent. That kind of crazy begins with its home-brewed thesis, absent facts or reality, and will then squat upon its position and nest around it with the sort of paranoid make-believe that even Don Quixote’s windmill couldn’t begin to compete against. Then crazy will simply bask in the validation it gets by from the ensuing attention. In these cases, crazy will frequently be proud of its own ignorance, and/or lack of civility.

I’m from the South; I know this stuff, and yet I still forgot the first rule.

Do not feed crazy. There is no winning, there are just different flavors of losing. Mine tasted like mushy, overcooked peas. Eww.

On the plus side, I did get to replaces some of my mp3s out of the experience:

Friend: What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?
Salome: Huh?
Friend: What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?
Salome: Oh, it was a weak moment.
Friend: Dude…
Salome: I was unfairly tempted to try and address insanity with reality.
Friend: Back away. Do not make eye contact. Just keep saying “nice doggie” and find a rock.
Salome: But…
Friend: You cannot win against crazy. Crazy always wins.
Salome: But…
Friend: What is the first rule?
Salome: I know, I know. I know. But facts matter!
Friend: First rule?
Salome: I know, but seriously, there is wrong and then there is WRONG.
Friend: FIRST RULE
Salome: Do not feed crazy.
Friend: And what did you do?
Salome: I fed the crazy.
Friend: You fed the crazy.
Salome: But she is wrong! Like more wrong than normal! Demonstrably wrong!
Friend: What is the first rule?
Salome: You understand I’m not trying to debate the opinion stuff — I know there’s no breaking that, but I’m not talking about the paranoid opinion parts. I’m talking about the true verses not true. It’s basic. Some things happened or didn’t happen. Some things exist or don’t exist. Many of the things she’s saying DO NOT EXIST and NEVER HAPPENED.
Friend: First rule?
Salome: Do not feed crazy.
Friend: That’s right. know why? Because you cannot win against crazy. Crazy always wins.
Salome: Fuck you, yoda.
Friend: Now begin to understand you do.
Salome: Lecture by muppet. Faboo
Friend: Today’s lesson has been brought to you by the letters WTF and the number eight.
Salome: Why eight?
Friend: Because eight is just a circle that turns around inside itself and when you place it on its side it becomes a symbol representing infinity. Like the infinite loop of hell you’ve walked into.
Salome: Wow. Were you holding onto that one this whole time?
Friend: It’s why I IMed you in the first place.
Salome: I hope it was worth it because now you have to email me all your SHR mp3s. I lost them in the hd fiasco.
Friend: Do you promise not to feed crazy again?
Salome: Yes.
Friend: Origs or TMBGs?
Salome: Yes, please
Friend: Greedy!
Salome: It’s part of my charm.

“So you think that money is the root of all evil. Have you ever asked what is the root of all money?” ~ Ayn Rand

Recently, a friend sent me this little gem:

It reminded me of the “Fair Game” machinma that uses WOW to explain fair trade:

Together, the set form an interesting lesson that combines both world and personal finance. And they say games can’t teach you anything useful ;-P

Always gets a replay
Never tilts at all
That deaf, dumb and blind kid
Sure plays a mean pinball
~ Pete Townshend’s “Pinball Wizard”

(The Who begins to play at the Superbowl halftime show)

Mother: Okay, which ones are these guys again?
Me: The Who.
Mother: And what do they play?
Me: Well, this song is Baba O’Riley, although most people think it’s called teenage wasteland.
Mother: What do they play that I would know?

(brief pause)

Me: You know this one. It’s the theme song for CSI New York. Who songs are used for all the CSI theme songs.
Mother: Even my favorite?
Me: Sadly, yes.
Mother: They do all of them?
Me: Yes.
Mother: Wow, I wonder how they got them to do all three?
Me: The songs were hits before they were used for the shows, Mom.
Mother: They were? When?
Me: 70’s.
Mother: They weren’t written for the shows?
Me: No.

(A few songs play - including an excerpt from “See Me, Feel Me”)

Me: Oh! You might have seen Tommy. That was all songs by The Who.
Mother: What was that?
Me: A musical with Ann-Margaret.
Mother: Like Bye Bye Birdie?
Me: No, Mom, it was called Tommy.
Mother: And who was in it?
Me: Ann-Margaret, Tina Turner, Jack Nicholson, the guys from The Who…
Mother: Ann-Margaret and Jack Nicholson?
Me: Yes.
Mother: And it was a musical?
Me: Yes.
Mother: When was it?
Me: Mid ’70s.
Mother: Really? Wow. I don’t remember it.
Me: You were too busy dragging me to Barry Manilow concerts against my will.
Mother: It wasn’t against your will, you loved them.
Me: You have no proof of that. I maintain I was forced.
Mother: You still know all the lyrics.
Me: Yes, that’s why I couldn’t learn math - there were Barry Manilow lyrics taking up room in my head. I hope you’re happy you kept me from being a math genius.
Mother: Your Dad made you listen to Bob Dylan and his songs are way longer.
Me: Don’t try to confuse the issue with your fuzzy logic. You’re why I don’t know math.

(Half-time show ends)

Mother: That wasn’t so bad. I really do like musicals. I wonder why I didn’t see that one.
Me: It had good music in it?
Mother: Ha. Ha. Who else was in it?
Me: Elton John.
Mother: Is that the one where he’s in the really big shoes?
Me: Yes!
Mother: Oh, I did see that, then.
Me: I am so impressed.
Mother: I think your Dad took me to see that at the old Tropicaire drive-in.
Me: You remember where you saw it, but all you remember about the movie is Elton John in big shoes?
Mother: We weren’t really watching the movie.
Me: What were you…oh jeez, TOO MUCH information!!
Mother: Come to think of it that might have been when your brother was…
Me: Waaaaaaaaaaay too much information! Way! Too! Much!