THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, October 14, 1994 TAG: 9410130057
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Jennifer Dziura
LENGTH: Medium: 62 lines
UNLIKE SOME SUBSIDIZED television programming in countries with centralized economies, television shows in the United States are continually interrupted by those little nuisances we call commercials.
During a revelation I had while eating a bagel and watching ``Star Trek,'' it occurred to me that commercials are written for complete idiots, or at least those who are extremely naive.
One example of an ad campaign preying exclusively on the very gullible is that for the perfume ``Sun Moon Stars,'' featuring Daryl Hannah smiling and twirling in front of a sequined velvet backdrop intended to represent outer space. The juxtaposition of the actress with the Big Dipper is intended to suggest that because Daryl is having such a good time wearing this perfume, we should wear it as well. This ignores the fact that most of us are (believe it or not) concerned with how our perfume smells. The average perfume counter patron has absolutely no idea how Daryl Hannah smells. For all we plebeians know, the rich and famous hold their breath when she walks by.
Another of my favorite commercial themes is that of sentient food. During the ``Star Trek'' episode, I had the privilege of viewing the 49-cent talking sausage biscuit featured in the latest series of McDonald's commercials. In one variation of the ad, the biscuit shrieks ``Yikes!'' as an indication that it very much prefers not to be eaten. I do not find vulnerable, terrified biscuits appetizing; even the most adamant meat eaters generally do not consume food items that speak English.
Biscuit personification as a marketing technique strikes me as odd, as it is generally known that McDonald's wants you to buy its food. Given the talking biscuit commercial, however, one might think McDonald's would like us to continue purchasing its cuisine but to refrain from eating it for ethical reasons.
Another mutation of the sentient food theme features hard-working M&Ms whose most noble aspiration is to be tatooed with an ``M.'' I think this marketing ploy could be an even greater detriment to sales than the sausage biscuit commercial. After all, these chocolate pieces in a colorful candy shell are portrayed as having long, happy lives ahead of them provided they aren't torn from their cozy little snack packs and melted in our mouths.
The only explanation for this contradiction that wouldn't conflict with commonly accepted views about human nature is that bad commercial ideas are being fed to M&Ms executives by moles from the Skittles company.
The final commercial I'm going to complain about today is that one with Whitney Houston. I know you've seen it - ``I knooow what you're feeelinggggg. turn on the We-Don't-Have-Murphy-Brown-But-We're-Better-Than-MCI special sound program, and lo and behold, Whitney's prepackaged concert sounds better.
Does this mean that if you switched from MCI to AT&T and called your mother in Detroit, not only would AT&T blast Mom in your ear, but they might decide to liven up your conversation with an elevator music version of the Village People's Greatest Hits?
I may ponder this question for hours. I may just go back to watching ``Star Trek.'' Either way, I plan to avoid Whitney and her magical disappearing/reappearing backup band at all costs. by CNB