What is actually going on in this Eylea Ad?

 

I get that grandma wants to see granddaughter in the recital and thanks to this medication- and a front-row seat- she gets to do that.  But there's something really off about this ad.  Several somethings, in fact.

Grandma is staring at the stage with a frozen smile on her face that has me half-convinced that she's just enjoying the experience of being out of the Assisted Living Home for a few hours and isn't at all sure what she's watching.  Is the medication helping grandma see the performance better, or does it just prevent blinking?

Is granddaughter really coming down from the stage to hand grandma a battery-powered nightlight shaped like a star and a hug, or is this just happening in grandma's imagination?  I kind of think the latter, because it seems like every other person in the audience would be a parent or grandparent and would be wondering what the star treatment (I didn't mean that to be a pun) is all about.  If it's all just grandma's imagination, doesn't that mean that she's just wandered off into her own fantasy world again and nothing she's dreaming up in her own head requires eye medication?

Come to think of it, maybe Eylea has nothing to do with eyes.  Maybe it's just an hallucinogen made for the elderly promoted by adult children and grandchildren to get old people to stop asking for so much attention.  Baby Tiffany never calls or visits?  Put a few drops of this stuff in your eyes and the next thing you know, you'll "see" Tiffany dancing on stage and even stepping down to pay homage in the form of glowing stars.  That good enough for you, grandma?  

The way Fitbit reduces stress: Ignore Everything except the step tracker

 

The only thing consistent about my Fitbit's "fitness tracker" feature is it's almost comical inconsistency.

Saturday:  "You've been maintaining fitness and your readiness is moderate.  Aim for 10-34 zone minutes."

I work out on Saturday and exceed the recommendations.

Sunday:  "You've been maintaining fitness and your readiness is high.  Aim for 20-75 zone minutes."

I take a long walk and spend most of the day at the gym.

Monday:  "You've really been pushing it lately and are in danger of overtraining.  Schedule some time for recovery to avoid injury.  Aim for 1-18 zone minutes."

I take a long walk, hit the gym, and go way above requirements.

Tuesday:  "You have been maintaining fitness and your readiness is moderate.  Aim for 20-56 zone minutes."

I take a break from exercise though as usual hit my step goal.

Wednesday:  "You have been maintaining fitness. Aim for 40-80 zone minutes to get back on track." WTF?

I hit the gym and go way above recommendations.

Thursday:  "Schedule some time for Recovery.  Aim for 1-10 zone minutes to prevent injury."

I get my steps in and hit 14 zone minutes.

Friday:  "You are at risk of undertraining and your readiness is High.  Aim for 40-99 zone minutes."

What. the Actual. F?

Add to this the fact that every few days I can do an hour on the treadmill, get 10,000 steps in, and record ZERO zone minutes, and I'm convinced that I should stop reading the Daily Goal paragraph on my Fitbit and just look at the step tracker.  That seems to be pretty accurate.  Maybe the sleep score too.  But I'm done with the Daily Goal nonsense; that feature was clearly programmed by the same people who brought us the Magic 8 Ball method of making decisions.    

(Quick Update:  Yesterday I hit 229 zone minutes and a cardio load of 155 (target was 90-125.)  So what does Fitbit say this morning?  "You've been at risk of undertraining recently...." and my cardio load target is 145-194.  I guarantee that if I reach that goal, tomorrow it will tell me that I'm in danger of overtraining.  This thing is an absolute JOKE.)

KFC just needs to make their Bowls a little Bigger....

 

These things already contain fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, potatoes, and gravy.  Make the bowl a little larger and KFC could add gummy bears, cigarettes, whiskey, and a gambling app and make this the perfect Grab and Go for people in a hurry to destroy their lives. 

"Failure Pile in a Sadness Bowl."  I wish I had thought of that.  And yes, 2 AM in your own apartment is the only proper time and place to consume this Most American Meal Ever.

I don't get these Bullseye Air Compressor Commercials. Like, at ALL

 

I've kept a portable air compressor in the trunk of my car for well over a decade.  I got my niece one for her car.  We've used them to fill tires, basketballs, footballs, floatation devices- anything that needs air.  

Which is why the people in these ads absolutely astonish me.  They come off as skeptical that such a device is possible without slight of hand or magic and in the real world it must be a scam of some kind.  A portable air compressor that you charge at home every once in a while and then keep in your car to deal with low tire situations?*  What's next, a mini version of a vacuum for your car?  A mounting device for a cell phone on the dashboard?  What kind of bizarre Utopia are we living in these days?

Seriously, though.  I don't know if this thing works well- the reviews on YouTube are not promising- but you can buy them off the shelf at your local Home Depot or (probably) Walmart.  This is not new if you haven't been living under a rock for the past many, many years.  Why are these idiots acting as if they are watching a wizard at work?  

*I do object to the depiction of a completely flat tire; if it has a puncture, all the compressed air in the world isn't going to help you for what I hope are obvious reasons.  For that you'll need another Very Available, Very Portable product called a Fix-a-Flat- though personally I'd rather just call AAA and have them switch it out with my spare.**

**actual spare, not the worthless donut the insultingly cheap dealerships stick you with these days.  $25,000 on average for a base-model new car and they can't include an actual extra tire....but that's a rant for another time. 

Royal Match, Royal Kingdom...Addiction by any other name....

 

I'm so disturbed that there's even something called the Mobile Game Industry...

Turns out that these ubiquitous "free" games (actually the same game tweaked and relabeled to con the losers who fall down these time-and-money-wasting tunnels to nowhere) are all about dopamine hits mixed with just enough frustration to convince users to purchase upgrades and just enough advertisement to make it profitable even if 100 percent of the people who download don't become absolutely obsessed with this life-draining nonsense.

Never mind Jimmy Kimmel, who like Shakira and Lebron just ask "how high" when told by their corporate masters to jump as long as those masters are waving fistfuls of money they don't really need and don't know what to do with in their faces.  Let's note every commercial that does not include an actual celebrity- they all show seemingly normal people doing normal things (preparing meals in the kitchen, having a backyard barbecue, etc.) being fascinated by what looks to a Boomer like me to be Candy Crush with Royalty.  And effortlessly recruiting their spouses and friends to join in the "fun" by offering a mere glance at their phones. 

How empty are their lives that this looks absolutely irresistible after three seconds?  I'd be asking when it became perfectly normal to do everything with one hand and fifty percent of your brain tied behind your back.  Maybe I should have mentioned that all the people shown engaged in this junk are legal adults.  Legal adults who if they are so easily sucked into investing time and money into this bleak empty garbage are almost certainly also going down the road of economic destruction through equally "fun" gambling apps as well. 

Can we bring actual hobbies back?  How about actual quality time with fellow humans?  Time not spent staring at a screen and engaging in "activities" that suck money out of our wallets for a few moments of - well, I don't even know.  Why is this fun again?

Have I mentioned lately how sad this country is?

Terrible Optics for this Chase Commercial and the Girl Scouts (if these are in fact Girl Scout Cookies.)

 

1.  Apparently it's not about raising money for a good cause.  It's a major competition that only one of these very competitive little girls can win, and both are determined to be the Champion Number One Whatever.  The cookies are just the means by which a Champion can be Crowned.

2.  The moment we gained access to digital payment options, handling actual currency became incredibly awkward, virtually impossible.  Because I grew up handling cash and I can't remember it being this big a deal to transfer paper from one hand to another or even to (gasp) make change.  

3.  Yeah, digital payments are totally flawless and would never accidentally duplicate themselves.  I don't know why every transaction isn't a worry-free tap of a phone, those NEVER go wrong.

4.  You roll your eyes at me while I'm trying to help your cause, and I'm cancelling the sale and keeping my money.  This little girl does it TWICE.  What a great representative of her generation.  Goodbye, little girl.  I can buy cookies from anyone, including at the store, with cash, without the condescending, triggered annoyed looks.  I'm sooooo sorry it's taking more than thirty seconds to finish this transaction, but please avoid this "problem" by skipping my house next year. 

Superbowl 2026 Ad #1- of course, it's a stupid Jeep Commercial

 

If Christmas is the Hallmark Channel's Superbowl, then the Superbowl is Advertising's Christmas. Somehow, the ads for the big game have become as big a story- maybe even a bigger story- than the sporting event it sponsors.  NFL Network even has a "Best Superbowl Ads Ever" show.

Personally, I think the absolute worst thing about attending game parties is being unable to escape the ads and the inevitable conversations created by the ads.  As the years have moved along, I've noticed that more and more the casual chitchat is reserved for the time the players are on the field and is halted during the commercials.  I guess it was inevitable that a mere football game being played between two teams not supported by at least 90 percent of viewers would take a back seat to advertisements (not to mention an only slightly truncated concert tucked in between the 2nd and 3rd quarters.)  

As it turns out, I won't be attending a Superbowl party for the first time since the Plague of 2020/21, which means I'll be watching with a remote in my hand ready to hit MUTE when the actual game is not on the screen.  Hey, I'm a curmudgeon, remember?

Oh, I guess I should say a few things about this ad for everyone's favorite pile of junk, Jeep.  Well, let's see...the premise is that we've got a little kid obsessed with silly purchase made by his father when dad was hung over and watching late-night TV back in the 80s (maybe it was grandpa?)  The little kid's mom is pregnant for no reason (unless something else happens in the final ten seconds involving her, I don't know, I stopped watching after "I can see my wires" because by then it had crossed the line into Beaten To Death Joke and I was done.)  We know for sure she's pregnant because she's got her arm resting on her stomach like All Pregnant Women in TV ads do. 

For some reason the kid really, really wants to take an obvious piece of plastic to the river, and for some reason dad is willing to drive the kid and the stupid piece of plastic what seems like many, many miles to find a suitable river to put it in.  All of this is in service of driving the family's much, much bigger dumb purchase, with it's panoramic sunroof and apparent ability to hit a pothole and get wet without needing servicing (is Jeep upping it's game?)

The kid puts the piece of plastic in the river and I guess it's a Magic Fish but not the good kind that grants wishes, just the kind that is grateful for five seconds and then accusatory when it finds out that freedom is not all it's cracked up to be.  I have no idea why that bear continues to eat the fish when it's clear it's plastic.  I have no idea why this stupid plastic fish has so many wires.  I have no idea why the dad is trying to defend himself to it.  It's a plastic fish that doesn't even grant wishes.

All I see here is the overindulgence of a creepy little boy who needs therapy and friends by a father who thinks that there's something environmentally sane about driving a brand-new piece of garbage to a remote area to toss a fifty-year old piece of garbage into a river.

What am I missing? Oh, don't bother- I'm sure I'll be told in the breakroom, or by several of my classes, tomorrow.