I haven’t updated this blog in a long time, because I didn’t think I could write.
Writing is one of two things I do that I’ve gotten compliments from friends for, but recently I’ve felt like I should give it up, because I didn’t feel like I was good enough to justify the time I spent on it. I missed it. I really do enjoy writing, or at least I enjoy having written something, but I didn’t think I was creating anything worthwhile insulting things everyone already insulted.
Why am I writing again? Because of a revelation. Many smart people have said that we can only acquire skill over time. I am told that the quality of your writing, especially, depends on experience, so writing badly is apparently a price you pay to learn how to write well. But more importantly I realized that nobody cares either way if I write terrible shit, because most of what everyone writes is terrible shit.
Which brings me to Jack Chick.
The Last Generation is about a dystopian future. The world of this tract is controlled by a single government, overseen by the World Court, presided over by Supreme Justice Mahoney, Supreme Justice:
Keeping in mind that this is a Jack Chick tract, I want you to guess what Supreme Justice Mahoney, Supreme Justice is going to finish that sentence with. You’re definitely at least a little bit right.
Do you know why paranoid American Christians are always terrified of the future? Because there’s absolutely nothing for them to be terrified about in the present. If they’re going to be scared, it has to be about something that doesn’t actually exist yet. They cannot reasonably claim that they are being oppressed, but they want to feel oppressed just as much as everyone else does. If it was me, I’d just decide I was gay, but everyone solves problems differently.
So you get incredibly silly shit like this; bleak visions of a government just over the horizon that will outlaw Christianity altogether, presumably because the Muslims, Hindus, and Catholics will band together in the World Court to stomp the poor Christians into submission. America, of course, will just roll over and take this United Nations 2 ruling, as America is wont to do.
The sad part is that if, for some reason, America doesn’t accept its new Eurasian overlords in the next two hundred years, idiots like Chick will claim it’s because of all their bitching about it.
This would actually be a pretty good trailer line for an action movie based on this tract. I’m going to spend the rest of this analysis imagining everyone has many hidden firearms on their person, and I’ll probably be disappointed at the end.
But I was going to be disappointed anyway, wasn’t I?
Do you know who looks at the world today and thinks it’s the worst it’s ever been? Idiots. Several history books of wars, plagues and natural disasters have happened over the millenia. Several science books’ worth of progress has happened too. I’ll let the persecution bit slide, since Jack Chick has already written that Christianity is going to get its ass kicked in the ‘Near Future’, but thinking that the world is getting worse based on your life is like thinking you know everything about life after reading one book.
I’m not going to bother with the bit where only Christians go to heaven, because I don’t care what Jack Chick believes, and neither should you. Opinions are like assholes: Jack Chick only has two or three, and he talks about them constantly. I’m just here to try and figure out for myself what makes a stupid story. In this case it’s pretty clear.
Most Jack Chick tracts have a very blatant Straw Man. This one is set in a Straw Universe.
Note the enormous number on the roof of the house. Because totalitarianism. Also, in this action movie I’ve just pitched you, I imagine Connie’s father is part of a suicide cult, and is about to try to slaughter Charles and Connie before turning the gun(s) on himself. This is why Charles is currently reaching for his own gun. It makes perfect sense until the monster line, I think.
The Straw Universe has not provided enough points for taking the moral high ground, so here is the Straw King, leader of all who are born solely to be defeated. I genuinely thought this kid was being sarcastic when I first read these panels, but then I remembered Jack Chick is a fucking lunatic. Despite Jack’s cheerful assurance after the Bible quote, we never see Bobby get shot many times, even though I’m pretty sure I’ve made a convincing case for his parents and grandfather having at least thirty weapons within reach.
Looking back, I’m still not entirely sure this kid isn’t joking. I mean, logically, Jack Chick is incapable of that, but I’ve never seen a real person come close to being stupid enough to claim that the Buddhist concept of reincarnation justified a Halloween sacrifice. Let’s say this is all true, though, and this kid goes to school to learn some kind of mashup of every non-Christian religion. Why in God’s name would his Christian parents allow that? How many times does your son have to come home from school talking about giving up wife burning for Ramadan before you get him the hell out of there?
Immediately after these panels, Bobby says ‘There is no God. THERE IS NO GOD!’ while sliding pistols out of his sleeves. He manages to kill both his parents and has his grandfather trapped behind an upturned table. His grandfather utters a brief prayer, and pulls the pins on all the grenades from his box of grenades that is next to him. Just as the boy leans over the table to kill him the camera goes outside the house and all the windows blow out in a kickass fireball that shoots shrapnel into the nearest houses in eight directions, killing eight boys identical to Bobby and spurring the families that live in them to start a revolution with the hundreds of guns each of them has been stockpiling.
Seriously, are the parents surprised by this? Was their kid entirely normal until one day he was some sort of pan-religious hyper-liberal Nazi? I’m guessing one of Jack Chick’s grandchildren read one of his tracts and decided to drive him even crazier by pretending his school was brainwashing him. Good job, you little troll, it worked.
Something about two grown adults waiting for their son to fall asleep so they can have hushed conversations about Jesus is so far removed from reality that I’m starting to think this whole thing was a parody. A parody of how hard it is to live a normal, reasonable life with religious fundamentalists for parents. Then I remember this is the same guy who wrote that rock music is a tool of the devil and I go back to thinking about why none of the characters have used any of their dozens of guns or explosives on each other yet.
Really think about this conversation for a second. This old man never told his daughter’s husband (or his son. It’s never made clear, and they both call him Dad. Alabama?) about the apocalypse that he believes is actively in progress? Was he waiting for something horrible and stupidly contrived to shake up their lives? The old bastard was probably slipping Bobby money to say all the ridiculous shit we just saw.
God, I love this guy so much.
This kid is the most one dimensional villain I’ve ever seen, which is actually starting to screw up how perfect a straw man he is. It’s not like he got forcibly removed from his parents for years at a time; it’s not even a boarding school. They really spent no time after school trying to undo some of the brainwashing he went through? They never decided this school was too violently insane to let their kid study at and try to hide him?
To be fair, though, if MY grade school promised me Sylvester Stallone, Witch Hunter, I’d believe anything they told me too.
If it’s not one of his own grandchildren messing with him, then I think Jack Chick got destroyed in a debate by some ten year old boy he tried to convert to Christianity while walking back home from his outhouse. And now, revenge.
Oh come on, guy, what’s the point of wearing a magic coat that turns into a flamethrower and a jetpack if you’re not going to chase down some bastard kid who’s going to get you killed? And why aren’t you going to the cabin with Charles and Connie? You’ve rigged it to explode, haven’t you? You crazy old man, with your suicide cult. I’m not going to miss you.
What is even the point of writing a dystopian future if you’re going to just skim over the brutal torture? That’s like making a movie about Jesus where you skim over the brutal torture. I bet these lazy idiots are just shoving the microchips up his ass.
It’s time for my favourite part of most Jack Chick stories, the incredibly rushed third act. Where most storytellers would have some sort of escalating conflict and then a resolution, Chick tends to rush right through the final conflict and have God or the Bible instantly deal with it. The characters themselves never draw on God for strength or direction as much as just get suddenly converted or saved or, in this case…we’ll get to that.
Then, a voice boomed from the heavens, and lo! It spoke in tongues long forgotten to these lands, but all who heard it speak felt the message was one of great power and wisom. The light of the LORD shined down upon their humble cottage, and it glowed incandescent, till the light exploded outwards! As the men in the helicopter’s sight returned, they gazed now upon a terrible dragon, as wide across as a river, and as long as the highest mountain is tall, and its mighty claws were as scimitars, and its terrible eyes were as the sun! For on this day-
For fuck’s sake.
This is like if the Titanic hit the iceberg and then the movie cut to a black screen with the words ‘AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER’ on it. Why even tell a story if you don’t give a shit about telling stories?
If anyone reading this wants to try to convince people of anything, just give them your opinions on the world. Nobody will think less of you for that. Straw men having telegraphed arguments and doing evil things do not convey morality any better than simply telling someone directly what you think is right and wrong. That way I can just agree or disagree with your opinions without spending ten minutes laughing at the comic equivalent of a grade school play first. Jack Chick writes like he just discovered allegories and the Bible and thinks nobody knows what those are, so he’s trying to ease us into it.
Have some respect for your audience, is my point.
See, this panel on its own conveyed the entire point of the comic, and really the entire point of almost all of his comics. I’m not arguing with you if you believe this, because we’d be arguing at each other from different realities, so there’s no point. But for the love of God, if you’re going to try to talk about it, either disguise it a bit better or don’t bother disguising it at all.
These two panels would also have worked on their own. You wouldn’t know who little Bobby was, but that’s really sort of a bonus.
I think there’s a bit of a missed opportunity here, actually. Jack Chick should have had a phone number you could call to hear a phone operator describing Bobby’s punishment in Hell in real time. Now THAT would scare your children into Christ’s embrace.
What was the point of all that? There wasn’t one, really. I’m just trying to practice putting words together, and this is a topic I can very easily words about. I’m not blowing anyone’s mind by calling Jack Chick a bad writer, and I think I’m okay with that. So I’d like to thank Mr. Chick for reminding me that you don’t have to be any good at something to fanatically devote your life to it, and I think I just talked myself out of this.
Until next time, remember:
a must check out.
i was just wondering that this guy/girl did such an effort in writing something against me writing something against him and that I should do him a favor in return. So this person is King Qzer (not a king as far as i know) and according to him his site does this “MIXTAPE ON ITUNES DOWNLOAD NOW”
Eyah you wish i wasn’t a doctor. My entire life ive been running away from critics and dodging haters, but now im back with a stronger heart to screw each one of these people who have dared to mess with me.
Want to know a cool fact? Give people a mocking blog post and theyll react. Works for me.
Qzer wrote a blog mocking my “mocking King Qzer” and his blog post did not even grammar. So I kinda came back with something similar. Here it is:
Qzer is no obstacle for me. Ive been hated upon and criticized for hating upon and criticizing what others have been wanting to do. Eyah i become more proffesional at what i do day by day hence all my previous stuff can be hated upon but that doesnt mean that i dont value what i did. I have seen the worst and stooped to the lowest ground imaginable so only i know what my value is. I will be letting you all know about my life bits by bits so be sure to subscribe to all of this if you want to be updated.
As far as Haters Wont Die is concerned, i will say the same thing i used to say, if you honestly had fun making that, i am designing a theme park for you called violent ear canal rape land. Me and no one else because holy christ did you really need help with that just got together and did something for fun. Heres the track if you wanna peep it :
However, i get the most criticism on that criticism of that song, so i will be making fun of a song next year called “Haters Do Die” and that will be lyrical slaughter to all these faggots who think im trying to get somewhere writing pointless shit about z-list internet people to fill the time.
If you want to talk about devotion? I have an exam tomorrow and im more devoted towards my writing responses to random internet critics and expressing myself as compared to my studies. Although in the long run, its the studies that benefit you the most.
So now lets get back to King Qzer (who calls himself King Qzer) I guess he can go F*** himself then I dont even know this fool. LOL. Im just giving him a taste of his own medicine “blogging about blogging about blogging” i.e. At the moment im getting over 700 million views every month thanks to my bloggers and readers, so Im least concerned about haters that exist out there.
(no i wont kill you, i have my ability to spell to wipe you off)
Qzer can keep making “songs” as he calls them, it wont make a difference. Fact remains that at the end of the day, no one gives a shit.
Be sure to keep giving me pageviews by searching for yourself on Google, Yahoo, Ask, Cuil and Porntube. Keep sharing, keep supporting.
They started as a “Christian” rock group, and became slaves to rock. But Tom found that Jesus could set him free!
This is the story of a band that tries to make a living playing music in churches. They are genuinely surprised when that doesn’t work out.
Play a goddamn concert hall, you goddamn morons. Sell some shirts on the internet or something. Nobody goes to church in America anymore, not since the new legislation allowing weddings to be handled by gay abortion communists. Sorry. I’ve been reading too much of this guy’s stuff.
Notice how they’re having the conversation they probably just already had when the pastor first gave them the money. Unless they’re really polite. My therapist would call them passive, although he’d probably call me an idiot first after realizing this is how I spend my time.
The most non-confrontational rock group on earth continues to wonder what’s wrong with the pastor after making sure he’s out of earshot. What did they play before their rock songs that the pastor didn’t object to? I’m just going to assume death metal.
‘There are Christian rock groups that are hot…they’re really getting down, man!'”
“Does anyone really talk like that? Who are you? WHY ARE YOU EATING MY THOUGHTS?”
Father Merrin from The Exorcist compliments the band and tells them to just ‘let go and flow’, which I’m thinking he heard in a tampon commercial and assumed was modern slang. I think Jack Chick hated The Exorcist, because this character turns out to be…well, what’s the stupidest thing this character could turn out to be? Because it’s exactly that.
When they’re done playing music for the night, Siffer turns down the lights and turns on this.
Holy shit, they’re not being raped right now! I just lost a bet.
Wait, no, hold on, there might still be some rape involved.
So imagine you’re in a band. You’ve just been paid five hundred dollars to give a shadowy stranger a private performance in his penthouse apartment, and you’re pleasantly surprised that you don’t have to blow anyone. Suddenly, this happens. How do you react?
‘That’s really gross’? Peer pressuring your friends into doing it?
How drunk would you have to be to actually sign? Sir, I contend that you would be far too drunk to know how to write if you were willing to do this. At best this Siffer is a dangerous maniac, and at worst…
OH GOD! LEW RHYMES WITH JEW!
This is my problem with Jack Chick comics. EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER IS RETARDED. I’d say mean things about the art more often, but maybe you’d have to look that messed up to have the corresponding level of brain damage these people have. Even the devil, the darkness within men’s hearts, the father of all evil, is about as nuanced as a professional wrestler. Maybe he’s just bored and trying to find a challenge. In this bizarro universe he’s probably going to have to try subverting Jesus to find any sales resistance at all.
Guys, you are talking to a man named Lewis Siffer who made you sign a contract in your own blood and is now giving you a speech about how he controls the world from the shadows. I don’t know if you’re playing along because you think it’s hilarious or you’re just assuming it’s a bad trip, but maybe you should read the contract you just signed. If you know how to read. For all I know you just put bloody thumbprints on the thing.
Hahahaha, holy shit, he had a flowchart ready for this? It looks like the surface behind it is wood, did he just have that painted on to a wall?
The band members seem to have taken the time to notice that this whole thing is completely insane. Give them a hand, they all get stickers for trying their best. Or maybe they’ve just realized they cut themselves and probably dipped a feather quill into the wounds.
I cannot stress enough that they signed a contract with their own blood.
Here’s a classic rule of writing I just made up, Jack. No villain can sound ominous if their expository speech uses the word ‘etcetera’ more than once. It just sounds like they don’t care enough to remember the details. Also, I listen to music all the time. I haven’t murdered anyone or done any drugs and I’m still a virgin. I have yet to destroy a country, can barely destroy the chinaware inside a home and have actually donated to education-based charities several times. I have no idea what music you’re not mentioning that turns you into a kickass force of darkness but I need to know.
It’s now absolutely clear that your agent believes he is the Devil. If you’re going to believe that too, that means you have something most people don’t; evidence of God’s existence. Now would be a great time to repent and ask for forgiveness and eat Jesus’ flesh or whatever it is you weird people do. While you’re there, suggest that you’re converting to any of a list of religions one after the other and see which one makes the Devil angriest to find the one true faith.
The church of Lewis Siffer is The Satanist church? Thanks, you condescending prick! Any ‘You are reading a Jack Chick tract’ messages you want to get out of the way while we’re here?
You idiots! You fucking idiots! Don’t play rock music for the fucking devil, you fucking idiots!
If you have to, though, you probably shouldn’t be concerned about the impression you’re going to make. The devil has a history of making excellent musicians. You also learned that God and Satan actually exist about two months ago, and that you sold your souls to Satan by accident. You have better things to worry about.
I assume the next panel originally went something like this.
How many girls would have to throw themselves at you before you decided you were gay? How gay would you have to be to marry someone who’s required by law to look like a sex offender? How big would your balls have to be to try to put down Satan? Is this some kind of bizarre reference to John Lennon’s ‘bigger than Jesus’ line?
Most importantly, why didn’t I think of “I’ll give you a little wedding present…some AIDS”? Jack Chick is accidentally better at being funny than I’ve ever been on purpose. On the plus side, I think that line means there’s some rape in this comic, so I might have won that bet I made earlier.
Oh, nice one, Don. I didn’t know selling your soul to the devil for fame and money made you an asshole. Maybe Bobby was just the bassist or something. Hahahaha, bassists are more popular than keyboard players and I’m bitter about that!
The little Jesus girl is only going to be able to save one band member. She probably picks the lead guitarist, because the girls all love the lead guitarist. Whatever. Girls have terrible taste in music. I play for my art.
How lazy are you anyway, God? The devil’s making personal appearances and running several worldwide conspiracies. You’ve got Jesus girl and maybe Jack Chick batting for you instead of maybe you sending some angels or creating your own Youtube channel. The universe exists exactly the way you want it to, and you’re going to let this happen? Don’t act hurt when everyone’s surprised that you still exist when you show up on Judgement Day.
“JIM! Are you alright? Is….is it mean of me to say the music sounds a lot better now? Dear God, his guitar hasn’t been in tune even once in the last five months. I’ve just been having the sound guy turn him down all the way whenever I can.”
“Don, I will beat you to death with my guitar if you don’t help me carry him offstage to a first aid kit.”
Tom here is pretty distraught that two of his fellow band members died and the last has…what? You’re just going to throw vampirism in out of nowhere, Chick? Fine, whatever. Tom’s so upset about the whole thing that he apparently forgets to change for a week, which explains why the Devil’s left him alone for a little while. Tom finds the book Jesus girl slipped into his coat pocket, which turns out to be a Jack Chick tract, the absolute best source of Biblical knowledge on the planet.
It occurs to Tom that maybe he shouldn’t have signed over his soul in blood to Satan. I don’t know which other tract gives you information about this in the blatantly obvious way Tom needed it spelled out, so I’m going to assume he’s reading the same tract that we are, which has already put a bit of strain on existence. This leads to the possibility that one day he’ll read my commentary on this tract, which would probably break the universe. Hi, Tom! You screwed up everything for everybody!
The one surviving non-vampire band member finally does what the band should have tried to do the second they realized they’d sold their souls to the devil. Cast a Jesus-spell that puts a bad halloween mask on him. Hilarious!
Holy shit, Tom finds Jesus and uses his grace to defeat Satan and the first thing he does is start a SUICIDE CULT? Is he applying to be the new Satan now that the old one has a face too blatantly evil to test people’s faith without them bursting into laughter? I don’t normally care enough to do this, but I’m going to go look up those two passages on the internet. This can’t be meant to be taken literally.
Galatians 2:20 reads ‘I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.’
Alright, that’s probably a metaphor for starting your life anew or some shit. But does the Bible really talk about what to do with your rock albums?
Acts 19:19 reads ‘A number who had practiced sorcery brought their scrolls together and burned them publicly. When they calculated the value of the scrolls, the total came to fifty thousand drachmas.’
Oh, Chick, you lovable idiot, nobody actually casts spells through music! That’s just a lie musicians spread so they can sleep with dumb people. Keyboard and piano players can cast minor spells because of the instrument’s inherent divinity, but they choose not to. There’s nothing at all for you to worry about.
I’m glad we’ve cleared that up, Jack, and I look forward to our next session together. Until then, remember:
I can’t really review this. I’m not saying I’m a professional critic or anything, but it would be a bit like an art critic reviewing a five year old’s drawing on a fridge. If the five year old was colourblind.
Who is Jack Chick? Jack Chick is a lunatic. He makes comics. The comics are generally about lunatic things, but that doesn’t bother me as much as how he writes them. Jack Chick is not a storyteller. Jack Chick is having a good day when his morals have stories in them. Jack Chick comics are for deeply conservative Baptist Christian children who find the Disney channel too highbrow for their tastes. Jack Chick is to subtlety what rape is to subtlety.
The man is so pointlessly hostile to all beliefs that aren’t his own that most internet service providers in Pakistan have actually blocked his website. (It’s not because of his embarrassingly friendly stance towards Islam.) I’m apparently the only person in the country who can see them, a fact I intend to fix by writing this. I know nobody reads this, but I figure the government might find it and ban me from seeing his website any more, which would be very helpful. I’m compulsively drawn to it.
A dog passes out, terrified by a butterfly that makes the sound of chainsaw! A mute boy looks at his deaf mother with terrified eyes to indicate something terrible is happening. The deaf mother is tragically unaware….until it’s too late.
(Has anyone ever made a sound you could represent with ‘ZZZZZZ’ while they were asleep? I know this isn’t Jack’s problem specifically, but it bothers me.)
Alternately, a boy and his dog were sitting in a car for so long that the dog passed out. The boy looks terrified because he just realized he never checked to see if they forgot anything.
The dog is a god damn idiot. This is one of the few likely things to happen in this story. Savour it.
I had to put these six panels together, just so it was absolutely, 100% clear that these retards left the dog behind.
An ordinary bad storyteller would end the story a few panels later, and this would be a cautionary tale about paying attention. A bad children’s storyteller would switch the focus to the dog, and make it a story about the dog finding the owners. But Jack Chick is a bad evangelist storyteller.
Yes, God! You may have heard of God from several other comics and even a few novels. He was pretty famous a few years ago as a kind of stock protagonist who could always do what a situation required. These days he’s considered more of a dark anti-hero type character. He probably became angry at the world because of people as water-sinkingly dense at this:
Sweet Moses these people are useless! The wording implies that they have a collar and just didn’t put it on the dog, perhaps saving it as a special commemoration for the first time Grandma was about to die. This is honestly a little bit like worrying about the time you forgot to wear a condom while your wife is going into labour.
So, yeah, God has His work cut out for him. He may be the best at what he does, but what if the best isn’t enough?
‘Oh, alright! Listen, Mrs. Jones, can you go to the dog pound and-‘
‘Your dog killed my cat, John.’
‘…I apologized for that profusely. We agreed that it was just one of those regrettable things that happen sometimes.’
‘I called the dog catcher.’
‘What? It was a year ago! If you were-‘
‘That fucking dog will hang, John. I’ll see to it.’
Wow, can you imagine if this panel had started differently?
‘I’m sorry. There was nothing more we could do.’
‘God didn’t answer THIS prayer, dad, but maybe He-‘
‘Now we’re staying here till Mrs. Jones has called to confirm the dog is dead.’
With the unimportant side character out of the way, the race is on to save the dog!
The thrilling climax to our epic adventure. Will they make it in time to save their beloved dog? Are there any readers who honestly doubt that they will? And what’s wrong with them?
I don’t know why Jack Chick loves to draw eyes completely at odds with the situation. You could have the bald guy say ‘Preciousssss’ and it probably wouldn’t surprise me. In fact, that’d actually be a lot more like most Jack Chick tracts. I picked one of the soft ones to start with.
You’re probably saying by this point that this is all perfectly stupid and what not, but what distinguishes this from any other run of the mill children’s story? Where’s the gratuitous religiosity?
Jack Chick does not like the idea that some people might not understand what he was driving at. He will not stop until he is entirely satisfied that ages five to dead have no margin for doubt in what his comic was about.
It’s pretty clear now that the grace of God saved this goddamn idiot dog for this goddamn idiot family, right? I mean, I’d have spent the God-power saving maybe a starving child, or something. Or if I’m being honest, impressing supermodels. That could theoretically result in new life one day, right? Anyway, there’s nothing else to-
Waitwaitwait no, you’re going to use this dog’s story as a metaphor for human redemption? You mean there was a more interesting story we COULD have been reading instead?
It’s about here, with actual Bible footnotes at the bottom of the panels, that you realize Jack doesn’t really give a shit about comics or stories. He just wanted to put his essays in a format that people would actually read. Incidentally, John, what analogue does your stupid ass forgetting the dog at home have in the Bible? The time God put Adam and Eve on an asteroid by mistake and they almost asphyxiated before he noticed?
I really hope this isn’t still an analogy. It would be pretty dark if Timmy was crucified for the dog’s sins.
Aaaand in all honesty you could have removed every single other panel for the exact same effect. It’d be an artistic minimalist statement about a father and son who love Jesus, and also the son loves wet kissing dogs. Now it’s just stupid and contrived.
There you have it. Jack Chick, Ladies and Gentlemen! I’ll be reviewing these every now and again, so I should warn you now I started with one of the sane ones. Next time, a damning indictment of Christian Rock music!
This logo shows up on my TV every now and again, usually on an infomercial for some sort of exercise machine. A friend of mine owns an Ab King Pro, which is basically some kind of situp bench. You lie on it and then you perform the situp motion. The latest product they advertise here in Pakistan is some kind of pushup machine. You lie on it and then perform the pushup motion. If you’ve found these products to be worth the money you paid, I have for you an ornamental flamingo that will revolutionize the way you hydrate your body. You lie next to it with a glass of water and perform the drinking motion. Fifty dollars plus shipping, for a limited time only!
I looked them up on the internet to find what else they sold, and I was not disappointed. A lot of the products they sell are direct insults to the people who buy them. You couldn’t find a more compelling argument against capitalism inside a Russian woman. It honestly feels like their business is solving people’s problems sarcastically, or maybe taking people’s sarcasm literally.
Hollywood Purse Hook holds your purse, pocketbook, handbag, or any type of bag. It’s small in size and easily fits in any size bag that you carry. Use it in restaurants, theaters, by the poolside, in your office or anyplace that you carry a bag. Hollywood Purse Hook is stylish, and it keeps your bags from getting dirty or ruined on its underside. It’s great in restaurants for keeping your bag safely where you can keep your eyes on it. It works great and holds up to 35 pounds.
I’ll admit I haven’t had a purse for very long now, so I may not know all the intricacies of maintaining one, but the only problems I’ve had because of it are occasional fist fights. I’ve never been short of clean, flat surfaces for my purse. Even if I do run out of tables or chairs or beds, I’ll just hold on to my damn purse for a while. What sort of man buys a portable hook for his purse? That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.
Besides, what if I can’t find a chair or table to set the thing up on? You really half assed the logic on this one, Telebrands. Start selling a collapsible table to go with my purse hook and we’ll talk.
This really does sound like the sort of thing that you’d come up with as a joke. A girl goes ‘I have nowhere to put my purse’ and you go ‘Why don’t you carry a place to put it in your purse’ and you both laugh. Meanwhile, a Telebrands agent falls out of a nearby tree, having lost his balance from the vertigo of divine revelation.The OWL is an amazing credit card sized light and magnifier. OWL is easy to use and carry – since it is credit card size, it will fit in wallets and pocketbooks with ease! Just push the button on the bottom of the credit card sized OWL and you’ll activate its ultra bright light. Combined with the powerful magnifying lens, now you can have magnification & light when you need it! Magnify books, menus, labels, maps, prescriptions and more!. Even light up keyholes and other objects in the dark!
This…is a thing, apparently. I just have to accept that. At least the ad on the site is pretty hilarious.
Do you have trouble reading labels? Cash register receipts? Menus? And more? Because of small print? Low light? Or both? Never be embarassed and stressed like this again! You need the amazing OWL Optical Wallet Light. (whoowhoo)
I love that little half hearted ‘whoo whoo’ that plays there. It’s like even the owl knew to phone in this performance. The narrator must have been new there, or the inventor of the OWL. The actual owl’s been working for Telebrands for years, and it knows it’s not going anywhere. It’s getting too old to do this, and it shows.
The world’s first high tech magnifying light…
Hold it. It’s a light and a magnifying glass. That’s not new or high tech at all! That’s like saying you invented a flying car by putting a car in a plane. Telebrands, I am starting to doubt you’re being entirely honest.
that’s the same size as a credit card! So it fits in your wallet’s credit card holder. It’s always with you when you need it!
Dim lit diners, illegal back alley libraries, contract small print revisions at gunpoint…
Forget about clumsy reading glasses that cramp your style. Just reach for your wallet, slip out the discreet little OWL, and use its powerful magnifying glass to read menus, meal cheques, credit card bills and more!
‘Listen. I like you. I really like you, as a person. I just don’t think…I don’t think I can love you, okay? Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s not your fault. I know you need those reading glasses but…holy shit is that guy using a HIGH TECH CREDIT CARD MAGNIFYING LIGHT? HEY! HEY MISTER! I PUT OUT!’
Then there’s a bunch of testimonies about how awesome the OWL is and how everyone totally needs the OWL Bullshit. The OWL is the sort of thing that would be used as a Spy Kids toy in a Happy Meal. I can’t reasonably see something like this costing more than half a dollar and getting any customers. I decided to look for it on Amazon and:
So at least one of these products has a happy ending.
Just unroll this magnificent 37 key digital piano and you’re ready to begin playing. With its built-in speaker, you can enjoy making music just about anywhere you go. because it’s high tech flexible Sensa-Touch design allows you to roll up the keyboard for easy storage.
If you have just enough skill to want to show off wherever you go and not enough skill to appreciate a real piano or keyboard, you’ll still probably realise that you’re never going to need a piano substitute this portable, but you might think about buying it anyway. I guess if you have enemies that are fatally allergic to live music you can infiltrate their compounds with one of these. Personally, I’d buy it because it looks sort of like a wallet when you fold it up. If I ever get mugged by someone obviously in a hurry, I’ll just hand him that and have a good laugh about the mugger who got stuck with a goddamn roll up piano. No feeding your addiction today, mister mugger!
They get a ‘professional musician’ to explain what it can do for some reason. The poor guy must not have been making a lot of money at professional musicing. Two things strike me during this ad. One is that they never play anything involving the black keys on the Piano Man. Since this is Telebrands, I have to assume that none of the black keys do anything. The other thing was when he shows us the awe-inspiring four instrument settings on the keyboard.
Suddenly a photo of a drummer shows up! Why? Do the Telebrands people think their target market doesn’t know what drums are? Do you get the photo of the drummer with the product? Does the guy show up to jam with you when you unroll the Piano Man? I guess they could do that, since they probably couldn’t sell more than one of these things. I imagine that when you’re about to play your enemy the song of death while his guards aren’t looking this guy will come through the wall like the Kool Aid man. Your deaths, and shitty rendition of Canon in C Major, were not in vain, brave heroes! There will be music in the world again!
The solution is Doggy Steps. It’s just the right height to help smaller and older dogs step up where they want to go – up to couches and beds. It’s also great for pets to step up into cars or trucks. It’s lightweight and portable so it goes anywhere and no more bending over to help your pet up… so there’s less stress on your back too!
Doggy Steps is essential for pets with hip dysplasia, arthritis, simply old age. Doggy Steps gives your pet freedom from the floor—and more COMPANIONSHIP than ever before!
Note that the product description starts with ‘The solution is…’, implying that even Telebrands know that this was never really a problem.
I can sort of imagine a world where people who try to sell you Doggy Steps exist, but I hoped that the company at least had a monopoly on this sort of thing. Maybe a fringe company sells Doggy Escalators for upscale clients. No. Not only are there multiple brands of Doggy Steps, there is brand loyalty for the fucking things.
I have to know, what does a goddamn 150 dollar stepladder for dogs DO? Does it come with a doghouse attached to it? Does it give the owner happy endings whenever the dog successfully climbs all the way to the top? Does it validate Telebrands’ existence? No. Twenty dollars is still 101% more than you should pay for these things.
Just…just find a carpenter. He’ll make the steps for you. Find HELP. Find someone you can love, because you’re starting to take this dog too seriously.
It’s also pretty funny that they say you won’t have to bend to pick up your dog anymore. Just take these fucking stairs everywhere and forget that clumsy bending over that cramps your style!
There’s not a lot left to say about Telebrands. Their products do what reality around you already does, but in 24 carat gold or without cramping your style. If you’ve actually paid money for a Telebrands product you may be incredibly lazy or some kind of hipster, and in either case, you’re what’s wrong with the world today. Please continue to make me feel better about my own shortcomings. God bless.
‘Do you have any hobbies?’
‘Yeah, piano, videogames.’
‘That’s about it.’
‘Nothing else? How about your sister?’
‘Now, I want you to start using “I” language. It’s an important part of assertiveness. You say “I feel (adjective) when you (verb) because it (verb) my (noun). I want you to (verb).”‘
‘Someone’s abusing you! How do you feel?’
‘And why do you feel angry?’
‘because…it makes me feel angry?’
‘alright, make an ‘I’ sentence.’
‘…I feel angry when you abuse me because it makes me feel angry. I want you to stop abusing me.’
‘Very good. Let’s move on.’
‘Right, another situation where you have to be assertive…someone’s scratching your car! What do you say to him?’
Like, what, with his car key? Fuck off, probably. ‘I…feel angry when you…scratch my car because…it makes me have to get it repainted. Please stop scratching my car.’
‘You’re good at this! Your communication is improving really fast.’
‘You’re in pre-Partition World War II India. You’re working for one of England’s most famous hunters, and you’ve just discovered papers that implicate him as a spy for Nazi Germany. As you turn away from the papers you see him pointing a gun at you. What do you say to him?’
‘I’d probably tell him I didn’t know how to read and pretend I was looking for something else.’
‘Lying is passive-aggressive. It’s a barrier to effective communication. You need to learn to express your feelings more openly.’
‘…I….feel…angry when you…spy on…colonial India for the Nazis because it…hurts England’s warti-‘
‘The issue at hand is how you feel about the gun pointed at you.’
‘I feel sad when you point a gun at me because it makes me dead. I want you to find a demon to resurrect me.’
‘If you’re not going to take this seriously you’ll never recover.’
‘You’re in hell, and the Devil is giving you an angry look even though you’ve never met him before. What do you say to him?’
‘I…what? Is assertiveness really something I should be worried about at that point?’
‘You can never get better until you’re fully committed to it. You know that.’
‘You’re charging by the hour, aren’t you?’