According to a friend of mine, I’m obsessed with referring to humanity’s inevitably doomed future within my blog entries.
In fact, when I happened to catch a TV commercial for “Napisan, now with built in oxy-intelligence!” last night -- my initial reaction was “wow -- that sounds like how Skynet started”. I’m sure Dynamo Sentient isn’t far away from our supermarket shelves, either.
I’d also like to raise my misgivings regarding the recent TV ads for Webjet. Witness:
For a few days, I kept catching that ad while I happened to be passing through our lounge room, and the visuals struck me as more ambiguous than Dannii Minogue’s entire career. That ad could be selling anything: real estate, breakfast cereal, cars… no, apparently it’s a discount flights website.
But there’s one thing that ad appears to be spruiking more than anything else, and it’s Scientology. It’s so apt: the cash zipping away from Earth, as if vomited from a volcano, sarcastically fluttering around just out of your grasp. The vaguely creepy, space-themed visuals. Not to mention the voice-over, which eerily discharges a series of creepily welcoming phrases. It’s as if Baby John Burgess’ body has been possessed by an alien entity, clumsily attempting to convince the population that he would make a remarkable overlord.
The only factor differentiating this ad between Webjet and scientology is a freaking free e-meter reading!
That is, unless senior scientology members have infiltrated Webjet’s management, and this is all quite deliberate. Urban myth persistently suggests that the Pancake Parlour chain also sups from the cup of Xenu, so perhaps there’s some terrifying pancake/air travel plot they’re concocting to indoctrinate us all.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I hate you. I hate you so much. I had forgotten about the Pancake Parlour (Palace/Manor/Kitchen) Scientology urban myth. Now, once again, I am afraid to twirl my fork and exclaim “lovely!”. You’re a jerk.
I can’t have Gloria Jeans. I can’t drink Rockstar. I can’t have pancakes. And I can’t eat Beef Wellington.
(Okay, I can’t eat Beef Wellington because I hate mushrooms – but it still makes me angry because it looks so delicious. I am making it your fault on account of the pancake thing. What? I get irrational when I’m hungry.)
You know, equating Scientologists with followers of Xenu is like calling Catholics Satan-worshippers. Just saying.