Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Ahh, if only Dorian Gray had heard about this stuff....
The thought that there are people out there who will happily (read:desperately) shell out good, hard-earned money for this stuff doesn't dampen my thorough enjoyment of this commercial.
I really do love ads like this; commercials for products which are so obviously snake oil. Work at Home Millionaire, the Joy of House-Flipping, Beat the Stock Market, Pay off your Credit Cards at pennies on the Dollar, Beat the IRS at their Own Game- it's all good.
What makes commercials for exercise machines, acne products, weight-loss drugs and "Restoring Youth" creams especially delightful is the testimony of doctors which is always included; in this one, a guy we have never heard of (and will never hear of again) assures us that he would never "risk his reputation" endorsing this product if he wasn't sure he worked. Wow, that carries so much clout with me. I mean, check out that official-looking white jacket. He MUST be a doctor.
Not to mention that it makes SO MUCH SENSE that a company which has basically discovered the Fountain of Youth would announce the discovery on a commercial running during "The Secrets of the Knights Templar" on the Planet Green channel on a Sunday afternoon, rather than hold a press conference and turn the formula over to the Food and Drug Administration for evaluation. After all, what could they get out of approval of the FDA? Just access to every pharmacy in the United States, coverage from every major network and newspaper, and potentially billions in sales. Who needs that when you've got some doctor to give a five-second blurb promising to "stand behind" it's product?
Now, I myself have not aged in years. But I don't use this cream- I've taken the old-fashioned (though rather expensive) route of hiring a painter to capture my likeness on canvas, and then transferring my soul to the finished product. (It's not like I was using it anyway.) Sure, it's not a strategy endorsed by any doctors I know of. But it also doesn't involve rubbing stem cells on my face. I mean, that just sounds gross.