An Academic Analysis of Internet Advertising

In one of my classes at university, we did an exercise where we would analyze different advertisements and try to figure out exactly how they worked to deliver their message. When I recently came across what can only be described as the pinnacle of advertising on megavideo.com, I felt that I would be doing the world a disservice if I didn't use my university skills to dissect this magnificent example of marketing genius.

1.1

The advertisement (1.1) does a great job of hooking the viewer with its initial inquiry as to whether or not you want to bang hot chicks. This is brilliant, as studies have shown that at least 88% of heterosexual men would, in fact, like to bang hot chicks.

As the Western world is programmed to read text from top to bottom, left to right, the viewer’s eye will likely proceed to the woman in the advertisement (Megan Fox). She appears to be one of the afore mentioned hot chicks. By examining her body language, we see that she is standing with her torso slightly curved; this is either an attempt to accentuate her hips, or scoliosis. Based on my previous, extensive research involving pictures of Fox, I would say the latter is improbable. Therefore, we can conclude that her stance is, indeed, meant to highlight her sexuality. That, plus her very short skirt and prominently displayed cleavage, imply that she may very well be willing to bang.

Having already established that he wants to bang hot chicks, the viewer now wonders, “Is there some way that I can make hot chicks like this want to bang ME?!” The woman’s face, however, while indicating sexual arousal, also carries a certain degree of mystery, as if she is saying “Ohhh I want to bang you... but I can’t... unless you read on.”

Now the reader is bombarded with a very blunt message: “YOU NEED TO LOSE FAT!” Font size and color are both used here to assert the importance of this message. Since there was no real segue into this statement, it works to confuse the viewer and make him distraught. “I just want to bang hot chicks like that one!” he’ll say. “Why are you telling me I need to lose fat?!” Now, desperate for answers, the viewer will completely forget about the episode of The Office he was about to watch, and eagerly read on, hoping that there may still be a chance that he can bang hot chicks.

The explanation comes next: “Hot chicks ONLY FUCK Hot Guys . . . You NEED to LOSE WEIGHT” So now it makes sense: The uncertain look on the Fox’s face is a result of her internal struggle: She wants to bang you, but she’s a hot chick, and hot chicks only fuck hot guys. As the capital letters imply, the ad is stating a clinically-proven fact here (see graph 1.2).

1.2

Now that the viewer understands that he is not able to fuck hot chicks in his current state, he is ready to buy whatever the ad is selling. The ad writers knew this would happen, so they waste no time explaining what their product is. They do say it’s “100% natural,” which reassures the would be buyer; a product that was only 70% or 80% natural would cause the audience to become uncertain about the credibility of whatever nameless company is behind this ad.

The only reservation the man might have now would be the cost--a worry that is quickly dispelled upon learning that it will only cost $3.95 to get their "FREE BOTTLE" of magic weight loss stuff.

In conclusion, this advertisement effectively uses logic, facts, and Megan Fox's boobs to entice its audience.

Nobody Likes Protesters

Tucker Max's book, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, has recently been made into a movie. I went down from Vancouver to see the premier of IHTSBIH in Seattle, and it was really good - you should go see it. Anyway, I'm totally gay for Tucker so I've been reading the movie's production blog, and apparently some protesters showed up at a later screening (seattle was stop #2 in a big premier tour). They were saying Tucker's movie supports rape and other horrible things... Now, make no mistake: the movie is offensive, but it definitely doesn't deserve to be accused of supporting rape. So, as a loyal fan of Tucker Max, and because I honestly had nothing better to do, I used my Microsoft Paint skills to censor their slanderous protest-scribbles.

Here are some before and afters:

What's the Deal with Christianity? Part 2

Hell sure is weird. I mean, you go there no matter what if you're not a good Christian? And you have to spend eternity there being tortured no matter what degree of evil you were? That would be like if our society saw stealing Skittles and running over children as equal crimes. (We don't, of course; stealing Skittles gets you a slap on the wrist and running over children gets you 200 points).

But what if Hell is nothing like we think it is? What if it actually is logical and does make sense?

Furthermore, what's up with Heaven? We have to work hard our whole lives avoiding the overwhelming temptation of sin in order to get there. Then, after 80 years of G-rated movies and gospel music, we're rewarded with... an eternity of that stuff.

All the answers could very well be in the Bible, but maybe it's just not explained clearly enough. I mean, the book is really old, we may just need an updated version. If you think about it, Christianity is not doing a very good job of keeping up with the competition, because science textbooks get updated all the damn time. I propose that the Bible be re-written in a much easier to read format. Maybe something that this generation of idiots can understand. Since I'm a solution man, I've taken the liberty of getting this Bible 2.0 project underway:

What's the Deal with Christianity? Part 1

-Jesus better hurry up and come back soon, because his tricks are becoming more and more outdated. Like, turning water into wine is cool and all, but David Copperfield made a spaceship disappear. A fucking spaceship. Oh, you can walk on water Jesus? Cool, I'll come check that out after I finish watching Criss Angel walk between two buildings on thin air. Curing leprosy is pretty badass, but who has leprosy these days? Being able to cure leprosy is like being able to fix a musket. Update your shit, dude.

-Oh, we're not supposed to use your name in vain, God? Hey God, don't think of pie. You thought of it, didn't you! You made us, you should know that if you tell us there's one thing we can't do/think, we HAVE to do/think it. Why do you think Eve ate that fruit? Besides the fact that bitches be crazy, you put ONE tree in that garden that they couldn't eat from. Of COURSE they were going to eat from it! You don't have to be omnipotent to figure that out! And then you have the audacity to blame humans for it?! Dude, the second human you created messed up--maybe you should have made us better. If I started making microwaves, and the second one off the production line started malfunctioning, and then every single microwave after that had the same defects, I WOULD NOT BLAME THE MICROWAVES, I WOULD BLAME MYSELF! Jesus Christ.

Mo Money Mo Problems

Would you date this man? No?! Well at least get to know him first! He is 34 years old and lives in New Delhi, India. He’s overweight, quite ugly, and has a moustache that looks like someone rubbed a glue stick on his upper lip then threw a handful of pubes at his face. His name is Anurag Dikshit. Yes, you heard me correctly: Anurag… DIKSHIT. So what do you think; are you the future Mrs. Dikshit? Oh wait, there’s one more thing about him I forgot to tell you…

HE HAS 1.5 BILLION DOLLARS!!! According to Forbes.com, ol’ Anurag is the 618th richest person on the face of the planet. So now what do you say? I bet you want his pubey face all over you, don’t you, you money-grubbing harlot? I know I do.

Anurag Dikshit. Is that name even appropriate for public usage? When he’s on the news, do they have to call him Anurag Penispoop? Does he get offended if you call him Anurag Dipshit? (“It’s Dikshit, you asshole! DIK!!!”) Who knows. All I know is that if he was a pilot, his name would be Captain Dikshit, and that would be completely awesome.



As I was browsing the Forbes Richest People list, making sure Bill was keeping my future spot warm, I noticed something: billionaires are fucking ugly. I don’t know, maybe I’m being unfair—I tend to think that with that much money, they should be perfect. Decide for yourself; here are some more people who have enough money to buy a hemisphere.

Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal

With 20.3 billion dollars, Prince Al-Tal makes our Indian friend up there look like a bum. Fuck Dikshit (I feel like I have Tourette syndrome). Not only do you get way more money with “The Mustached Chihuahua,” as I like to call him, you also get a mole you could land one of his seventeen helicopters on. His dangerous stare begs the question: Are YOU ready for a ride on the Talalocoster?

Pierre Omidyar

Pierre Omidyar comes from humble beginnings. His parents moved to America when he was quite young. His mother often had to take little Pierre to work with her at the diner where she worked night shifts, while his father, a porcupine, would gather berries and various shrubs to feed the family. Pierre would eventually grow up and start the online empire that is Ebay, making a cool 8.8 billion for himself. Sadly, Pierre’s father never lived to see his son’s accomplishments, as he was eaten by a German Shepard in 1992.

Emilio Azcarraga

Emilio is proof that even retards can grow up to be wealthy people who can just about close their mouths. A true underdog story, Emilio overcame the odds and managed to be born into a rich family from whom he would inherit 2.1 billion big ones. When asked how it feels to be able to do whatever he wants, Mr. Azcarraga answered: “Emilio hungry! Make Emilio grilled cheese NOW! NO CRUSTS!!!” Emilio’s personal butler, a hard working father of six, had this to say while cutting the crust off of Emilio’s sandwich: “Man, this is some bullshit.”

JK Rowling

Correction: Billionaire guys are ugly. I may just be blinded by how impressed I am with the Harry Potter series, but I’m pretty sure Rowling’s a roboMILF. I would bang her so hard, Hermione would have an orgasm.

Joe Revolutionizes the Advertising Industry

Advertising seems to have society completely under its control. We believe whatever they tell us, totally turning off our own minds and relying on them to sell us products and ideas that will fix all of our problems.

As much as we like to pretend that we’re smart people who don’t get tricked by such silliness, you know as well as I do that we’re all suckers for a clever sales pitch… Well in my case, to be honest, it doesn’t even have to be all that clever. Hell, I’ve bought a bunch of stuff from infomercials. They're fucking sneaky!

3:01am- Joe: Ha! Look at that stupid thing. You think I’m actually going to buy a juicer from an infomercial?! Please.
3:17am- Joe: That juice looks fucking delicious…
3:30am- Joe: You had me at “but wait, there’s more!” God bless you, Jack LaLanne.

Alright, so maybe I’m a little more susceptible than most. Whatever. I still say that advertising is a powerful force, and if we don’t do something to control it, we’ll all be knee-deep in juicers and credit card dept!

So what’s the solution to this problem? How can we protect ourselves from advertising’s hypnotic powers? Well put on your oven mitts, because the answer is smoking! That’s right, the complete honesty and transparency of smoking ads should be the model for all advertising. [Disclaimer: when you think of a joke that lame, youhave to include it. See Joe’s 4th law of comedy.]

“This product will give you cancer.” Now THAT’S fucking advertising. No bullshit, no beating around the bush, just facts. People don’t want to be coddled by misleading buzzwords and catchy slogans; they want to be slapped in the face by the hand of honesty. They want to suckle at the teet of truth! They want to be BENT OVER, AND FUCKED BY THE MIGHTY ROD OF CANDOR!

“But wait,” you say. “Don’t bring that rod out just yet! Would that actually work in practice?”

Well, let’s see. Cigarette ads are honest, and people still buy cigarettes. Sure, one could argue that that’s because nicotine has been scientifically proven to be addictive, but to quote one of the great thinkers of our time, “I heard the jury is still out on science.” (GOB, Arrested Development)

So let’s make some truthful ads. If the products still look good after being marketed completely honestly, like cigarettes, then I might be onto something here! First, let’s try it with a product that would be just as harmful as smoking. How about a car:

I would totally buy that. Who cares about airbags when you have a samurai sword and a jet engine?! See, if I was looking at a regular ad for some SUV, I would be left with many questions and uncertainties: “What do all these complicated specs actually mean? If I buy this, will people think I have a small penis? …If I do have a small penis, should I get a Prius or something, so nobody will know?” With The Executioner, at least you know exactly what you’re getting: an incredibly fast car that may very well kill you. (We’ve established that I’m stupid, I don’t think it’s any surprise that I’m drawn to simplicity.)

What about products that actually exists? What if honest advertising was applied to something on the market now--something that some of us may or may not have been led to believe is life-changing, maybe even magical?

“Her pleasure condoms: Ribbed for her pleasure… but you’ll still suck in bed.”

I mean, that may not sound appealing at first, but I think the warning is actually nice. If someone were to overestimate the product’s power, and then maybe make promises to a different someone--possibly a special someone--that he really couldn’t fulfill on his own, I imagine that he would probably get laughed at and made fun of the next day. Not that it would be his fault, MELISSA! …I don’t want to talk about this one anymore. NEXT AD!

I think one of the best parts of honest advertising would be

the honest testimonials. I really hate those things on TV where people say how great the product is, but then there’s “results not typical” in tiny letters at the bottom. What the fuck? So your product is not typically any good at all? With honest testimonials, the really shitty products like that would get weeded out, because nobody would buy something that genuinely sucks.

I’m convinced; this honesty in advertising thing definitely has a future. In fact, I bet there would even be a lot of money in that business… I think I’m going to start up Honest Joe’s Advertising Inc., even though that’ll make me sound like a used car dealer (which, coincidentally, is my backup career).

…

[Joe’s, uh, 12th law of comedy: If it’s really late and you’re super tired, you don’t have to think of a clever joke to end with.]

Joe The Swimming Instructor

I taught swimming lessons for two years, and overall it was a really good job. I had to remain professional and fair, but every so often a kid would come along who would make me wonder just how much jail time would come from power-bombing a 4 year old through a lawn chair. Basically I managed to deal with that kind of thing by bottling up my emotions deep inside, and keeping my REAL thoughts to my self. Today I will finally let these thoughts out:

-Sharks? Are you kidding me, the deep end here is FULL of sharks! Don't worry though, they only eat kids named Keenan. Oh, what? Your name is Keenan?! Oh man, that sucks. Class, everybody move away from Keenan, he's about to get eaten by a shark.

-I realize that it's time to go, but I'm going to pretend we need to keep doing stuff for another minute of two. You see kids, the hot lifeguard over there is wearing some really short shorts, and Teacher can't get out of the pool now because he's at half-mast.

-There's no badge in your report card? Let me see that buddy, there must be some mistake... Oh, that's right, you didn't get a badge because you FAILED! You know how how everybody else in the class could float on their back, but you would always just sink? Yeah, see, they don't suck, so they get badges. You, on the other hand, can't swim worth shit. You couldn't even learn the words to Ring Around the Rosie for God's sake! Maybe if you had listened to my instructions instead of dickin' around all the time you wouldn't be such a failure. Now go show your mommy that you wasted all her money, failure.

-Actually, I did notice you drowning there. Remember how you thought it would be hilarious to pull my hair and not let go earlier today? Well I thought it would be hilarious to watch you flail around underwater for an extra few seconds just now! Now you're going to be afraid of water for the rest of your life! HAHAHA!

-Listen little girl, I know it's common for kids to have crushes on their swimming teachers--I had one on mine when I was your age--but seriously, if you keep trying to grab me there I'm going to go to jail.

-The only reason I'm putting up with your crap is because your mom is so unbelievably hot. Man, I'd like to practice breaststroke on her. How can she look that good after giving birth to you only three years ago? Plus you look like a pug. You're probably adopted. How would you like a new daddy?

-Jesus Christ, you're eight years old and you're still in level one. Isn't it about time to call it quits? You've failed like six times, do you really think the seventh will be any different? Your mom doesn't even stay and watch anymore. She's probably out playing bingo with your college fund since you obviously won't be using it, you giant fuck up.

-Daaamn... Come look me up in about ten years! ;)

-Oh, you couldn't swim one length of the pool because your goggles weren't working and somebody accidentally kicked you? I see, Billy. And you don't suppose the fact that you're a fat piece of crap had any effect on the situation? Henry the austistic deaf kid could do it, but your fat ass made it about ten metres before you had to grab onto the side and desperately gasp for air. Oh and by the way, the 13 year old girls in my level 12 class after this are jealous of your tits.

-Alright, that's it, you have to go to time out. Whoa whoa, what do you think you're doing? I don't care if your last teacher made you sit on the deck for time out, you're in my house now, get in the fucking gutter.

-Here, wear a couple of these floaty belts while you're in the deep end. Yeah, they do kinda look like a weight belts, don't they!

-Did you guys know that if you go to the very bottom of the pool you can breathe?!

Ah, the memories... I'm going to make such a good father someday!

The White Boy Rap II: 60 Years Later (The Geezer Rap)

5 am, yo, I'm up out of bed,
While whipper snappers be sleepin', I'm gettin' ahead.
Applesauce, brown toast—breakfast is pimpin'
Struttin's for suckas, boy you know I be limpin'
I complain all the time and go off on rants
(don't mind that smell, I just crapped my pants).
So get off that skateboard, kid, do what you're told!
I don't give a fuck, 'cause I'm fuckin' old!


(Chorus)


All the seniors in the house say yeaaah! (what?)
I said all the seniors in the house say YEAAAH! (huh?)
You can't mess with me, no one compares;
I ain't scared of nothin' (except going down stairs).
I'm sharp as a tack, and I consider you lesser—
Unlike my hip, I don't crack under pressure.
So listen close kid, learn somethin' this time,
Because Alzheimer's isn't affecting this rhyme.


When it comes to gettin' ladies, I'm winning the race,
'cause I get lots of gum (and that means third base).
I got plenty of lines to get women galore,
Like, "it's time for my sponge bath and there's room for one more!"
There's Erma and Helen and the fine Mary Lou—
You love your grandma? Well I like her too.
You think she's so sweet? Boy, you're makin' me queasy.
Like my afternoon pills, she goes down real easy.


(Chorus)


Been spendin' most my life livin' in a geezer's paradise,
I'm like 2pac Shakur meets Bob Barker from The Price.
You've gotten shot? Gangsta please, you're a joke;
I've had two heart attacks and a serious stroke.
Now I spend my days just chillin' in the hood;
Not quite Compton, but still pretty good:
Golden Acres Old Folks home, the best place around,
"Were her tits reach her knees, and his balls touch the ground!"

The White Boy Rap

Struttin' down the street like my name is Shaq,

wearin' thick SPF 'cause melanoma is whack!

Just like Snoop, I keep the haters hushed,

'cause I got lotsa ice--you want cubes or crushed?

I live in the suburbs, I'm a dedicated Mormon,

and my grill is real baller 'cause it's made by George Foreman.

I'm 100% thug, y'all can't criticize crap,

so sit your ass down, it's the white boy rap!

(Chorus)

I'm a white boy, yo, my rap is tight.

I can't say ni**er, but that's alright.

The colour of my skin does not mean shit,

just look at Eminem and... well, I guess that's it.

I'm a white boy, yo, don't test me, son,

or I'll bust a cap with my paintball gun.

I'll fuck you up now, but we do have to hurry--

if I'm out past eleven, my mom starts to worry.

Escalade, Rolls Royce? That shit is not for me;

I got a '93 Hyundai to get from A to B.

That's what I roll in, yeah, I do what it takes--

it's got high crash test ratings and anti-lock brakes.

It's a pimp mobile, bitch, check out my rhyme,

it goes from 0-60 in a long fuckin' time.

No spinners, no bass--I'm not much of a boaster,

'cause the only chrome I got is on my motherfuckin' toaster!

(Chorus)

I tell all the ladies to give me a call,

but I can't get no bitches, 'cause my dick's kinda small.

Honey, this trust fund baby'll make you feel alive--

I'll be rollin' in mad dough when I turn twenty five!

I may not be ripped like 50 and the rest,

but "GANGSTA 4 LIFE" is tattooed on my chest.

So gimme me some love girl, don't make me say please,

I wanna fuck somethin' other than warm cottage cheese.

(Chorus)