LifeCell... what the hell?

(This post was originally published in The Itinerant Mirror. I chose to include it here because it illustrates some of the new marketing devices that we've all grown to despise in the recent past. As if they needed additional illustration...)


Well (and that makes a double rhyme :)), you'll excuse my language, but that's what I keep thinking after having browsed around looking for information about "anti-aging" creams, and a certain product in particular...

After sifting through the usual irritatingly prolific (and still proliferating!) batch of links for anti-wrinkle creams - which is NOT what I am looking for, I am interested in anti-sagging products - weariness finally got the best of me, and I clicked on a link just to give my eyes a rest...

And there it was.
The WONDER cream!
The Holy Grail of anti-wrinkle creams!

I don't have wrinkles - certainly not in my opinion - but I do have a relative or two who would be very interested in such a product, so I kept reading...

Wow, I thought... This must be really something!
And in order to determine just what it would be, I kept on searching and clicking.

But it just kept looking more and more promising: blog after blog - all personal blogs, and we all know that personal blogs are the last outpost, the last virtual sanctuary of innocence and integrity, right...? - all vouching for the wonderful qualities of said cream. (Or serum - whatever.)

It's not that I don't believe in "wonders" of any kind.
I do.

(In fact, I've seen quite a few happen in my own kitchen. A few years ago, I managed to mix up a home-made skin preparation that worked miraculously - there is no other way of putting it. Unfortunately, the second time around, the recipe - which had been improvised - didn't work... Oh yeah.)

So, yes, I do believe in wonders - even in "wonder creams".

But something in the tone of all those blogs didn't sound right.
They were very well written, with just the right amount of "subjectivity"...

And then, I found a website that purportedly featured "independent reviews".
Same story: not many reviews, but those that were there were positively glowing... except one.

Aha! I thought, and avidly read on.

The cream and its marketing is all a scam, said the reviewer.
And yet, there was something just a tiny bit obfuscating about that review itself: not enough data to support the negative claims, so I wasn't readily convinced... Google-search for "scam" (+ the name of the cream, of course), it said.

OK, I thought, and I did.

And what do you know... The very first result on the first results page had this title:

NAME-OF-CREAM WARNING
(Aha! I thought again, very happy with my own pre-shopping sagacity...)

and the first line under that title, visible on the Google results page, said this:

Don't get NAME-OF-CREAM before you read this review.

Goody! Let's read then!, I thought, and I clicked on the link.

Without further-ado - no word of warning, no scams even mentioned on the page itself! - the "warning" review proceeded to sing the praises of said cream and list it as the number 1, the best, the bestest...
So did the comments in apparent response to the review.

Now you tell me: don't you find it odd that a search on "NAME-OF-CREAM scam" would bring up a seemingly independent non-commercial website with no actual mention of any of the search terms in it?
Why exactly would a independent non-commercial website try to lure visitors by including keywords as "scam" or "warning" - when its content does nothing but shower praise on the product?

I am sure it's a fine cream. But I don't have wrinkles anyway.
And if I stay away from the murky waters of the internet where so many prey on the abyss of human good faith, I might delay their appearance for another ten years or so...


P.S.

If you think this might be yet another angle to the same scam, I must say that you're very perceptive and intelligent, and I predict you'll go far.

But it's not.

However, if you work for the product's makers or marketers and are seeking yet another propaganda outlet, I am open to offers... Just send me the right amount: of the cream and of the $$.
I will definitely give it a try, and I might even consider plugging it here.

But I might as well tell you right now that I will be openly admitting to marketing it.

And then, there was silence... :)

Vulgarity pays. Or does it?

In the past 36 hours or so, most of the websites I visit daily have been inundated by a series of ads, paid by the makers of Vimax, inviting men to expand their manliness.
(I am certainly not going to link to it, I am sure you can find it – or, more likely, it will find you, whether you want it or not.)

The message is very simple, along the lines of:

Surprise her with extra inches...

and

Want to shock the girls?

It is complemented by appropriately clicheic and poorly executed imagery.
(Worry not: there are no images of the organ in question, either "before" or "after" - thank God for small mercies... But there are aesthetically no less offensive closeups of women resembling hyperventilating, half-dead fish that, frankly, I don't see how anyone could be even interested in »surprising« or »shocking« anyway.)

Well, my pet websites – especially Care2 and Redjellyfish, IMDB to a lesser degree – certainly »shocked« yours truly by their inclusion of such advertising.

What's extraordinary is not the ubiquitous nature of this series – although I am not sure I've seen anything like this campaign on mainstream websites – but its unusually low-brow concept and imagery.

Will the client catch a lot of fish with such vulgar baits?

I am guessing... of course. Of course, they will.
It seems they always do.
Because you can always rely on people to be gullible to the point of stupidity, and to fall prey to the vulgar, even if it costs them their eyesight. (Besides, when you're trying to sell cr** to customers uneducated enough to buy into it, aesthetic sophistication will only harm the desired effect.)

But that's not the point.
What puzzles me is the willingness of apparently respectable and respectful websites to run these ads.

First of all, everyone sophisticated enough to use the internet (and even striving to use it for a greater good, like the visitorship of click-to-donate websites, for example) knows – or should know by now – there are no pills or other aids to effectively enlarge the male sexual organ. It is the sort of message one can easily envisage in the The Sun, the National Enquirer, that sort of »newspapers«, and their internet counterparts. Tabloids. You would expect them to have a very low opinion of their readers' intelligence or/and education – and, well, let's be honest: justifiably so.

But mainstream websites? Respectable online newspapers, click-to-donate sites, IMDB (not to mention certain »conspiracy sites«, where, I am sure, they will glean hundreds of eager customers)?

The truth is, the websites that run these ads do look diminished – very much so –, certainly in my eyes. They look... well, willing to stoop to almost anything in exchange for good money – including the ultimate »no no«: communicating to your visitors that you think they are uneducated and/or stupid.

What's remarkable - and somewhat worrisome - is that they never stooped to anything quite like this in the past.

Is »recession« already hitting them, and as badly as that?
(Yes, those are inverted commas, and it's not a punctuation error on my part.)

Is it some sort of post-post-modern sociological experiment of dubious ethics?

Whatever it is, I am sitting here, writing this, instead of spending the same amount on time on one or more of the websites above, as I would usually do at this time of the evening.

But as long as there are men clicking on those hideous banners, I guess they don't care.

The thing is... there's a good chance I won't be coming back even after those ads have run their course and they remove them.

Make no mistake: I am not offended by the implicit presence of the mighty(-to-be) penis.

I am considerably more offended, on a purely aesthetic level, by the brain-dead expressions of the unlovely faces shown to illustrate the reaction of the recipients of the shock-surprise.

Come to think of it... "offended" is not really the right expression.
I am surprised and disappointed; and, as in real life, I don't really look forward to spending time with anyone who I suspect believes me to be lacking in IQ.

No: no, that's not exactly accurate, either. Not in this case.
I do not believe that those websites I visit really consider the majority of their visitors, including myself, to be stupid, and so it's not that what I resent.

What I resent is being shown they think of me - you, us - principally in terms of numbers.

You may think of your customers in terms of numbers - of course.
You are expected to.

But showing it, rubbing it into their faces, is more than impolite.
It's bad, bad business.

Someone should do the math from this perspective, too.

And yes, I know that I am just one.
But – as the popular poem (and terrific slogan!) goes - I am one.
And there may be more of us, ones, than the myopic marketing pundits of those websites expected.