 More and more it seems like advertisers in this country are some of the most clueless people around. I imagine that your typical job listing for a marketing position might look something like this : "WANTED: One advertising executive We are looking for lethargic, dimwitted college (or high school) dropouts to man the helm of our next multi-million dollar advertising campaign. Prior experience is categorically discouraged. High-volume amounts of time spent in caves or with one's head in one's rear end encouraged. If this is you, come visit us whenever you get done with your nap." While this looks like my dream job, it is also the reason why we get utter filth thrown at us on a daily basis from the marketing world. It is said that we are bombarded with, on average, 1,200 marketing messages per day. I think it is conservative to say, then, that we are bombarded with 1,190 marketing messages that are pointless, a waste of money, or a downright shameful experience for the pitchman and receiver, as well as the unfortunate television that has to broadcast it. So with 1,190 crappy ads flooding our world, that leaves just ten ads per day that actually pack a punch, or are at least enjoyable to the average non-masochist. Where do these pitches come from? In most cases, they come from the plentiful alcohol springs. While Sprint is still convinced that inside "jokes" about anytime minutes are comparable to Chapelle's Show, Anheuser-Busch and Miller go to work pumping out true comedy in a convenient 30-second bundle. You'll notice I didn't say Coors. That's because Coors' advertisements suck. And their latest campaign is the greatest case against free speech since Randy Savage released a rap album. Coors in recent years has been going off the deep end with their attempt to try and make Coors seem "hip and macho." We all know that Coors is acceptable for males only after that absolute demarcation line where all beers taste the same. With that in mind, this makes Coors no different than Hamm's or O'Douls, so that is not saying a lot. What they have done is tried to pump some testosterone into its beverage. If Budweiser is the "King of Beers," then Coors is the "Christopher Lowell of Beers" and that is a fact they desperately want to hide. With the exception of the unexpectedly enjoyable "Wingman" commercial, Coors has come off looking like that guy who goes all out for the high school prom, getting the limo, exorbitant tuxedo, and butterface date that he thinks is hot but everyone else knows better. At the end of the night, that guy ends up making a fool of himself and leaves escorted by his belly full of regrets. Similarly, Coors made this big scene that they thought would get them into the cool clique, but instead made any sensible male stare only for "car accident value" and then shake his head in utter confusion.
Need another example? How about those completely asinine "Here's to Football!" commercials (Not ringing a bell? "AND TWINS!" Now you remember.) Again, stating that you love football and even more obviously, hot twins, isn't exactly taking a bold leap into the male consciousness. This reminds me of that same prom nerd trying to jump into the middle of a football conversation by pretending to love everything and agree with the topic of choice just to fit in. You're not a football beer, Coors. Go and hang out with the wine coolers and discuss your love of mascara and the Bachelor. Stop trying to pretend that you know that there is an umpire in football and go back to handicapping who is going to get the final rose from Jesse Palmer, the only "player" you have heard of. As a side note, Coors is doubly-guilty for this reprehensible series of ads because of the horrible, horrible, "I'm about ready to go Orlando Brown on you" annoyance that they created. We all knew of at least one idiot (and most of us knew ten) who fell into the fake-testosterone cesspool and sang that song. For some unearthly reason he did not think it was horrid and actually thought it was good. Usually these dunces sang it over and over and over again. If you are someone who felt the need to sing, "AND TWINS!" to the world and felt totally at peace doing it, then you are probably also pretty content with your life of shadow puppets and your huge Victoria's Secret catalog stash. Now the reason we are all here today is to pay our disrespects to the latest Coors abomination in advertising. If you haven't seen it yet, Coors declares to us in one spot that while other beers are heat-pasteurized at 100+ degrees, Coors is always frost-brewed at 38 degrees. Another one claims that while other beers are shipped in standard box cars, Coors' cars are always cold-insulated. And the trucks? Don't even get me started on the trucks. While Coors' trucks are also cold-insulated, Budweiser is transported on a flat-bed of molten magma straight from Satan's beach house. Let's examine what we have so far before moving on. First of all, I want to address Coors' arctic transportation system. I'm going to assume that what they say is true, since I can't fathom a reason for them making up something as pointless as this. Assuming this is the case, when the beer comes rolling into M & M off-sale in Leonard, the Budweiser is at a disgustingly vile room temperature while Coors is straight from polar bear heaven. However, if anyone has ever seen a stock room or has any concept of inventory, you probably have a good inkling of where that beer goes: All stacked up in the back room which, it being a room, exists at room temperature. Unless your super-futuristic trucks o'doom can magically chill the beer in another location, I have a good feeling that it all ends up the same temperature as that contraband from Molson.
A) While the beer is brewed at 38 degrees, it is then pasteurized at a comparable heat used by the competitor afterward. B) Coors is retailing a microbe-infested beverage set to give you runs legendary enough to put Metamucil out of business. Which is it Coors? Either fess up that you are guilty of the atrocities you accuse Miller of, or come clean that you are peddling an elixir dripping with botulism. This commercial goes on (unfortunately) to declare that it does this because Coors knows I, the consumer, love cold beer. Like their claims of loving partying, football, and hot girls, Coors continues to be the torch-bearer for bold statements in the 21st century. However, the money-making, 100% comedic gold, laugh-out-loud line comes at the very end: "Coors Light: The Coldest Tasting Beer in the World" Coldest Tasting Coldest Tasting It tastes the coldest. I'm not being at all unfair or overly boisterous when I declare that this marketing line is fucking stupid. "Coldest-Tasting?" What the hell does that mean? Are you trying to tell me that it is your super-powered trucks and your flagrant disregard for beverage processing standards that determines how cold my beer tastes, not that knob with all those temperature settings at the back of my fridge? Is there honestly going to be some goon who goes to the liquor store and wonders, "Hmm, I think I'm going to buy based on what beer tastes the coldest." Here's some advice, Coors. There are guys dumb enough out there to believe that pitch, but they're your redneck clientele that would rather burn their Dale Earnhardt flag then get caught with the Zima of Beers in their hand. I can already imagine other corporations following their lead. Burger King makes the hottest-tasting hamburgers. Firestone makes the spinningest tires. Bose manufactures the most musical radio. Interestingly, recent Coors Light ads I have seen are conspicuously missing their money line at the end, which makes me conclude that either they realized how stupid their ads really sound, or the FDA has filed suit against them for being a threat to public health. In the future, just give me the Bud frogs or even the very peculiar and disturbing Miller "Dick" commercials and I'll be a happy camper. Here's to Commercials!
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