Monday, August 26, 2013

Thus it is writ.

I have been admonished that I need to blog. I must blog. I should never not be blogging. So I am resurrecting this poor sad neglected blog to discuss shitstains.

So the Charmin bears, right? I have always hated them. It's inane, and they're constantly going on and on about their toilet habits, specifically their wiping rituals. It's a true case of "lowest common denominator," in my opinion. The creators of this nightmare need to be medicated at the very least, and possibly institutionalized. "Disturbing" doesn't even come close to describing this entire campaign.

I thought it was bad when the mother bear started checking her descendants' backsides for dingleberries. I thought, OK, this is horrific, there's really no way to go any lower then this. I was wrong.

Along came the little bear sitting on the washing machine and trumpeting, "This is one way to keep your underwear clean. Charmin is another!" So, we're using shitstains to sell products now? That's what we're doing? OK. Well, I said to myself, *that* has got to be as low as they're willing to go.

I was wrong.

Their latest effort has the bears being "interviewed" about whether they enjoy going to the bathroom. Mom thinks it's "me time." Little Sister brings a book. And Big Dopey Dad - God help us all - loves to text from the toilet. But even after all that, the ad people manged to save the very worst for last. Dad struts proudly offscreen, proclaiming. "I'm gonna get some Charmin and go right now!"

If I looked into a camera and told the world, "Imma go take a dump now! And I am exorbitantly pleased with myself about it!" I'd be locked away. But somehow when it's animated, Popsicle-colored bears extolling the virtues of Charmin, it's socially acceptable to announce our intentions, bowel-wise.

I'm aware that there are many bad ads out there. (The giant King head from the Burger King horror stories a couple of years back creeps stealthily to mind, much as the King himself did to that guy in his bedroom in the middle of the night.) And Quilted Northern hit back with their own campaign where actual people discuss their toilet-paper requirements. ("It has to be soft, but it has to keep my hands clean too!") But people: We're talking about shitstains. Shit. STAINS. On TV. When people's mothers are watching. There's just something so not right about that, and it's not that I'm uptight about private matters either, but that's just it: Those things are PRIVATE. Bathroom doors have locks FOR A REASON. If the average person finds himself (or herself, we're an equal-opportunity blog here) with a shitstain, he (or she) will go to heroic lengths to conceal the fact from the world. They don't announce their intention to switch to Charmin in the hopes of easing the burden on their washing machine. The Charmin commercials are a symptom of a greater illness, and I just think TV people can maybe try taking things back up a notch from the bottom of the barrel. Maybe if we all strove to be just a little bit better than shitstains, we'd all have a lot less problems.