The Page of Inventive Disasters- Page 3
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Here on The Page Of Inventive Disasters, I've dealt with
the kind of products that are not well known. The kind of products
that lurk in the corners of bargain shops and supermarkets, poised to leap
at unsuspecting passers by. But this is an inventive disaster that proclaims
its stupidity from the front of shops, that flaunts its horribly disturbing
nature from the pages of magazines, and, God help us, has found its way
into millions of homes. And yet, no one has done a thing about it. Until
now.
What is this product, you ask?
Those God damn singing fish.
And yet, these hideous things have
become, gasp, popular. But I can see though their little
scheme. First they'll invade the households of the world, then they'll
begin their hostile takeover. Just you wait. In twenty years, when we're
all forced to sing 'Don't worry Be Happy' as we drag enormous stone blocks
to make a shrine to the Robotic Fish God, I'll be able to smugly declare-
"See? I was right! Nyah nyah na nyah nyah!"
Okay. I'll admit it. This is getting way too easy.
I've come to the conclusion that all makers of confection are complete
and utter idiots. Except for Willy Wonka. Anyone who owns a magical factory
is okay with me. Trust me, there's absolutely no magic in this next
product.
Meet 'Ouch!' The candy that promotes pain. I know that when
I pop a nice piece of chewing gum in my mouth, the last thing I want is
for my insides to be wracked by searing agony, but this is what the box
implies, doesn't it?
It gets even worse when you open the box and take a look
at the gum inside-
Take a good look at the wrapper. That's right. It's shaped
like a band aid. Any foodstuff that associates itself with band
aids is not a foodstuff that I want to have anywhere near my mouth. But
I tried it anyway. What can I say, I'm an idiot.
To tell the truth, the results of the taste test were
pretty disappointing, at least from a humourous point of view. The gum
was sickly sweet, and lost it's taste in about five to ten seconds. After
that, it felt like a was chewing a piece of inner tube. Not that I've ever
chewed inner tube (and anything to the contrary you may hear is a filthy
lie).
You may have noticed that the box above says- 'FREE
TATTOOS INSIDE!' Now, what kind of tattoos would the confection of
pain have inside, you may ask?
Of course! Animals that cause pain! How appropriate!
Except maybe for the panda. Although I'm sure he could give you a vicious
bamboo-ing if you're not careful.
I'm sorry to have subjected you to yet another
confectionary review. But when the manufacturers make it so easy for me,
how can I resist?
Technically, this is supposed to be the page of inventive
disasters.
But every now and then, a product comes along which is so good, so clever,
and so goddam funny, that it deserves a mention on this page.
This little doozy comes from the brain of Dick
Smith , a great Aussie bloke. In order to support Australian
industry, he's come up with his own line of Australian made, Australian
owned products. And this one is the best of the bunch (although the peanut
butter is pretty good too! Mmmm!)
Remember Redheads matches?
Well, this is the Dick Smith version!
Need I say more?
Before I start, I really should explain why I'm reviewing
two
products
at the same time. Reason 1- these were both discovered within an hour of
each other. Reason two- they both feature cute, cuddly bears. Reason three-
Well... you'll find out. Read on!
While browsing through Spotlight (an arty/crafty type
shop), I came across this children's fabric-
Aw, how cute! you all exclaim. But let's take a closer
look,
shall we?
Take a good look at the two yellow bears in the middle, and
you'll suddenly realise- they're gettin' it on! Doing the rumpy
pumpy right there on what could potentially be some preschooler's pyjamas!
And look at all those other bears watching them! What kind of sick
individual would design fabric like this! It's kiddy PORN! PORN, I SAY!
But- our story does not end there!
Less than an hour later, I was doing my grocery shopping
(I needed to do something to get the image of copulating cartoon
bears out of my head- besides, I was out of Spam™) and, needing a new pair
of socks,
I stopped to peruse the selection. Suddenly, those images of cartoon bears
doing the dirty were forcefully rammed back into my head, with a ferocity
that brought tears to my eyes (and fecal matter to my pants).
Written on a particular pair of socks was-
'Bear and pleasure'? What madness is this? And look
at the way that bear is sitting! Legs akimbo, inviting all and sundry to
partake of a little 'bear and pleasure!' Have cartoon bears suddenly
become sexually liberated? Or have they all simply become cheap fame whores,
willing to do anything (and I mean anything) for exposure? (Since
the demise of the Care Bears, cartoon bears seem to be suffering the same
neglect as Pantomime
Horses .)
This filth and corruption cannot be allowed to continue!
Think of the children! Please, won't somebody think of the children?!
Remember the shower scene from Psycho? Pretty terrifying,
wasn't it? Well, cue the bloodcurdling screams and shrieking violins, folks,
because I've found an even scarier shower experience.
Yes. Ambush shower gel. This is a shower gel that
not only smells nice and gives you a thorough cleansing, it also leaps
out at you brandishing a weapon, takes your wallet, car keys and spleen,
and leaves you unconcious, face down in a pile of perfumed suds.
If you're one of those commando action types who relish
excitement at every turn and enjoy leaping out of planes strapped to several
anvils and a Volkswagon, I'd say this is the extreme cleansing experience
for you. Otherwise, I'd avoid this stuff. Unless you're not very fond of
your spleen.
Along the same lines of complete bathroom stupidity comes
the next product. This one belongs to my flatmate, and has sat on our shower
recess for months. One day, I was taking a shower, and noticed something
interesting. And by interesting, of course, I mean idiotic.
'Nothing wrong with that' you may be thinking. But look closer.
Closer... even closer than that. Now carefully read the title. Yes. They've
screwed up. Unless the word 'Anti' has aquired an extra 'i' that I'm unaware
of.
Right now you might be thinking, 'Oh come on Michelle,
so they made one stupid spelling mistake. You can't ridicule them for that.
I mean, you used to have a fear of robots, for chrissake!' At which point
I'd say 'how the hell do you know about that, you spying, perverted bastards!?'
and the whole conversation would go downhill from there. But, returning
to our Antii Stress Gel, I'll justify my ridicule. Oh yes, I will.
Really?! Damn, I was about to drink the whole damn
bottle of soap and sodium lauryl ethel sulfate because, dammit, I thought
it would medically cure my stress! I don't know about you, but the professional
look of the bottle sure convinced me it was a medication! Wow! I'm so glad
that warning was there! (end scathing sarcasm).
To conclude- when designing packaging, make sure you
run the spell checker; never drink bubble bath in an attempt to cure stress;
and let us never mention my fear of robots again. Never.
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