The back of my deodorant stick says, “Contains odor-fighting “atomic robots” that “shoot lasers” at your “stench monsters” and replaces them with fresh, clean, masculine “scent elves.””
It’s about time. Finally some truth in advertising.
How long were we gonna put up with those dang stench monsters running amok in our great nation? If we can’t count on masculine scent elves to blast those pesky varmints with lasers, who can we count on? I’m asking a serious question here.
Unfortunately the container goes on to say, “48 hour odor protection.” That’s a lie. But I suppose no marketing department is perfectly trustworthy. Their latter hollow promise brings into doubt the rest of their claims, including the “aluminum free” one. But I blather on. The point is I respect their initial boldness.
We all know advertisers (and basically all content creators these days) are lying to us virtually all the time. (Wait, you knew that, right? I guess I should have started this paragraph off with a “spoiler alert” heading.) I personally find it refreshing when any kind of storyteller embraces the scope of their fictional prowess. Once they can let go of their need to be taken seriously, great truth and great beauty can ensue. To be clear, it doesn’t always ensue, but at least it becomes possible.
This is one reason, the key reason, I love cheesy, over-the-top movies. If the opening sequence obliterates my delicate attempt to balance between reality and the suspension of my disbelief, then I can simply embrace the magic of the ridiculous for the rest of the film. And in my humble opinion, this is one of the best gifts a story can give its audience. Twenty years ago, I dragged the wife to see “Kung Pow: Enter the Fist” at the dollar theater. It was an early afternoon matinee, and only one other couple shared the theater with us.
The opening sequence of that film (I’ll not spoil it for you if you haven’t seen it) is so epically stupid that the other couple stood up and marched out before the opening credits could roll. The entire time they squelched their way up the sticky isle, I struggled to restrain my uproarious laughter. I guess a poorly rendered CGI kung fu baby peeing on bad guys was beneath their sensitivities. (Oh wait, small spoiler alert!) Anywho, I still love me a fight scene that utilizes gopher-chuks.
To this day, I will defend “Leonard Part 6” as the best bad movie ever made. Its resolute determination to be completely inconsequential firmly cements its place in history as a stalwart pillar of comedy film making. (And it’s the only movie starring Bill Cosby I can still justify seeing.) The fact there are no Leonard prequels renders the title itself brilliant in a ridiculous way. And that brings us full circle, or at least I’m going to pretend it does.
I personally want to believe in the possibility of the ludicrous. I enjoy the outrageous. And just because something is stupid doesn’t mean it can’t be brilliant (although granted, most of the time it’s just really, really dumb). The biggest problem I commonly encounter is stupidity masquerading as the legitimate in such a manner as to render the general populous discombobulated, dazed, and angry (ie. American politics, news/info-tainers, and social media).
The Soviets mastered this technique decades ago, and the U.S. is just now catching up. The general idea is to create a public sphere in which everything is ludicrous, loud, and unrelenting, thereby forcing everyone to embrace their favorite version of stupid. It’s all lies, and deep down everyone knows it. But at the same time, no one wants to be left alone without a side, so they each choose a lie and dig in, insisting their version of stupid is the truth.
The only solution? Stench-monster-fighting atomic robots and masculine scent elves. Thank you, Old Spice. You may have just saved us all. (And my pits do smell nice and fresh, even if not for 48 hours.)
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