[Ed.: This first one is a twofor, and the reason why can be found at the end.]
Ok, so here you are. You’re afraid of cow’s milk ’cause of all that naked calcium chomping away on your pour little bones. Makes sense. So then you think: Hey, goats are cute. I like goats. Why not drink their milk instead!
Meyenberg Goat Milk Products understands your needs, and are willing to provide you with said milk. However, they also think you’re a spiritually-deprived Western yoga-fiend who ain’t gonna buy that goat milk unless it looks like someone on holiday at a Sivananda ashram would drink it. That, or at least someone sitting high up on one of the secret Kundalini Yoga as Taught by Yogi Bhajan‘s grass patches hidden on 3HO‘s own personal post-Hopi gathering place. Either way. Someone best be meditating if I’m to trust a company, right?
So, what do you get here with this ad?
Well, you obviously get goat milk—truly the stinkiest of all the milks—along with some ancient-looking font that is supposed to evoke in you a longing to sit poolside by the Great Pyramids soaking up the post-revolution Egyptian sun while sucking on a cool stinky goat teet. You also get a woman, or at least a very soft-looking “beardless” young lad, the likes of which only Rumi could have loved, sitting in the grass with a sassy take on the french manicure adorning hir fingertips while rocking prithvi mudra, which lucky for us has a laundry list of benefits when practiced for more than three seconds on your way to work, including combating osteoporosis, which ironically can be exacerbated by drinking too much conventional milk.
So…ok, Mr. Goat Milk. I’m still here. Not a bad deal.
But here’s where it starts to get interesting….
So, now you’ve drunk about two quarts of goat milk and your insides, despite being gently initiated into Milkville by sweet caring little goats, as opposed to being kicked in the digestive balls by giant cud-belching jerk-off cows, is doing karate on your nervous system. Obviously, the only remedy is to shit this stuff out into deep outer space right good and right fast. And here’s where Blessed Herbs cleansing kit comes in.
Now, Blessed Herbs has really got a challenge on their hands. I mean, what image do you put with a product, the main purpose of which is to make you shit yourself silly? You can’t put a pile of pooh. And, anything that has to do with a toilet ain’t gonna fly. You could put, like, a woman running on the beach like most advertisements that deal with uncomfortable subjects end up doing. But, anytime you mix running and diarrhea the mind is gonna combine the two into a narrative that suggests said person is running in order to take a dump.
No. Obviously the best image to run with a bowel cleansing product is a meditating she-boy in all-white meditation garb. It’s a cheap trick, and I bet a lot more people fall for it than I’d like to believe.
So, why run these ads together? With the exception of one product potentially necessitating the other, what’s the point? Where’s the twist?
The reason we originally wanted to run these two ads together was to highlight how often advertising departments try to rope in gullible customers by appealing to their need-to-be-identified-with-anything-remotely-spiritual dependencies. That initial motivation was quickly undermined when we realized something….
Figure it out?
The two advertisers use the same frickin’ beardless eunuch to sell both their products!
This is the level of whatever-ness we find in even the best aspects of commercialized yoga. It doesn’t matter that this image was probably lifted from iStock or some other stock photography marketing web factory (Yeah, we’ll probably use it too). It doesn’t matter if every ad in every yoga magazine uses the same meditating what’s-her-name. Because, in fact, none of it matters. It’s all just fodder for your brains, in the hopes that the fair-skinned beauties of the world meditating in ginger patches will trigger willfully formed neurons to fire on command, triggering you to buy their products and further maintain the cerebral connection between commerce and contemporary yoga.
Ah, whatever. Let’s just Go green! and pretend everything is gonna be gravy.