Show Us Them Pearly Whites

I like to watch television. I’m just old fashion that way. It’s an American tradition, dating back to the first broadcast, when Thomas Edison strip-teased for Dr. John Watson, all the way to when Snookie strip-teased for an audience of absolutely zilch. I’m proud to be a part of this grand tradition.

Of course television, as the ever-evolving organism that it is, has been changing. This is only natural. As the medium grows, it’ll become bigger, its voice will deepen, it’ll have certain urges and hair will grow where there was none before. Wait, what was I talking about again?

With the invention of “Curated Television” * with devices and platforms, such as Roku, Amazon Fire, Netflix and Skynet, people can now watch the shows and movies they specifically want, thereby cutting out superfluous channels, (I’m not entirely against this, I only have sports channels in case the Testosterone Police show up to do an inspection) and commercials.

It’s the second one I draw offense at. People need commercials. They’re vital. I only watch the Super Bowl for the commercials. Hell, I’ve even previous written at least three columns about them. Now, don’t get me wrong, commercials can really suck, (I’m looking at you General Insurance Company) but they can also be very innovative and/or funny, especially ones involving Jean Claude Van Damme doing epic splits.

But there is one thing about commercials that now seems to be standard and bugs the shit out of me: people smiling like they’re deranged.

I understand that for some products, it makes sense for people to smile, like toothpaste ads, or anti-depression medication commercials. Maybe even the occasion beer or Doritos spot. But these days, marketing companies are taking it too far. I’ve recently seen commercials for cars, pillows, cell phones, underwear, the very concept of cooking and even bleach. where people grin like maniacal goons.

Why do they do this? Not everything is inherently funny, or worth smiling at. There’s even a meme called “Women Laughing Alone With Salad” where somebody googled that phrase and came up with a surprisingly large amount of stock pictures of women doing exactly that. Who came up with this concept? What are women laughing at salads supposed to convey? Why didn’t anybody stop these mad men before these generic photos were taken? We may never know. It’s baffling.

What’s even more testicle-shriveling stupid are the commercials where the people are so ecstatic about the product they’re trying to sell you that smiling isn’t enough, they must DANCE! As spastically and incongruously as possible. And for once, black people don’t get a pass for automatically being better dances. In this endeavor, all races are equally bad.

I recently saw a series of commercials for a furniture delivery company where people are so excited about their dinning room table set appearing out of thin air that they must dance their dignity away, never to be seen again. Then, they drop their magic phones on the ground as the song accompanying the visuals implores them to “drop the mic”, because leave it to a furniture company to get with the times in terms of slang, right jive turkeys?

You all may not notice this phenomenon, (you will now dammit!) But I have, because I’m just that observant. And once seen, it cannot be unseen. You can never purge yourself of what your eyes will have beheld. Just pay attention sometime and you’ll wonder to yourself “Hey, why is that lady smiling like a crazy person while looking at that Tide Detergent pod? What does she know that I don’t?”

Always wonder, my friends. Always wonder.

*The very phrase is an abomination.

NO(!)stalgia

These are dark days. Murky clouds gather above us and blot out the bright light of the Esoterica. The light has been shut out to those who thrive in its radiance.

Basically, what I’m saying it’s no fun being into obscure or old stuff right now. Especially 80s stuff. That nostalgia shit is everywhere and will only get worse instead of better.

The 1980s were a decade. New decades seem to come around every ten years or so. It’s mysterious. That particular decade is similar to ones that came before and after it. People existed, they wore clothes, listened to music, had extremely specific hairstyles that were instantly outlawed by the following decade and they probably ate food.

So what makes the 80s different/special?

Well, in a way, nada. In other ways everything (I’m nothing if not specific). The 80s saw the dawning of the computer age, as exemplified in movies like Tron, War Games, D.A.R.Y.L. and Explorers. It was also the heyday of cocaine, as demonstrated by Scarface and everything that Stephen King was involved in.

But while I could easily write multiple columns about how tits the 80s were, they’d be incredibly boring to anybody who considers hip hop from 2000 to be “old school”. The question isn’t “why are the 80s so popular?” it’s “why are the 80s popular now?” Easy.

People who, as children, suckled on the teat of the 80s, (me and most likely you if you’re reading this) are the leading generation. We’re in charge now, and that means that all the garbage we grew up on is now, by law, bodacious and relevant again. No matter how obscure (or, let’s be honest, in retrospect --terrible) the pop culture of yesteryear was, it was ours goddamn it and we will drag it, kicking and screaming, into the 21^st century and shove it down everybody’s throats like a hot dog at an eating contest, (just sit there and picture that scenario for a minute.)

This isn’t fair for other generations, but too bad. I had to grow up living under the nostalgia umbrella of Generation X (motto: Our music can only be written in minor keys and all our rappers must have ‘MC’ in their names.) And they were forced to deal with their hippy drippy parents’ cultural memories. It is, as my friend Elton Jonathan once called it: “The Mobius Strip of Life”, never-ending and very unsatisfying.

The problem for people like me, those who swim in the waters of incredibly specific and pointless things from the past, is that the market has been saturated. Thanks to schlock like Ready Player One and Stranger Things, you can barely take a step without bumping into She-Ra or Hacksaw Jim Duggan.* There is no room for people like me. We used to gather in the secret places (comic book shops and bars) to discuss things like who would win in a fight between Airwolf and Blue Thunder. Because to let people know what geeky stuff we were into branded us as pariahs to our peers. But no longer. Now that which was niche is mainstream. But at what cost!

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a butthurt fanboy, mad that the rest of the world is finally being introduced to stuff I’ve been into for decades. I’m all about sharing the wealth. So far, my boy Mr. Brooks is the only dude I know who can rank Duck Tales episodes with me based on how spectacular Launchpad’s crashes were. I’d love to bring more people into the fold. That way my sister won’t look at me like a crazy jerk anymore. But let’s give the 80s a break, shall we? No more reboots, remakes, re-animators or rebuttals. We don’t need any of our beloved (and objectively bad) movies turned into tv shows, or our choking-hazards masquerading as toys turned into movies with three sequels. The let past go. Or pick another decade.

I’ve heard good things from my southern friends about the 1860s.

*And I feel cheap for even making those references.