Anatomy of an "infomercial"

Is it just me, or would the rest of you rather lick uncooked hamburger patties than have to watch more than 5 seconds of these TV segments we've come to know as "infomercials"? 

An "infomercial" is a phenomenon where unscrupulous companies buy hour long television segments and present you with the opportunity to buy products so low in quality that even the large chain stores like Wal-Mart won't waste shelf space on them.  There's nothing quite as cheesy, nothing quite as infuriating, nothing quite as...worthy of death by the over-consumption of broccoli...as having some stupid punk wasting your valuable couch potato time trying to trick you into sending him money.  There must be some sort of kit you can buy to help you produce one of these "infomercials" because they all contain the same elements.

First, you have to have some sort of stake in a company that has produced a product of absolutely no use to the general public...a product so ridiculous, so low-grade, so unworthy of the time spent creating it that your entire marketing plan has to be based around people accidentally buying your product.  No primate with any sort of brainwave activity at all would knowingly purchase what you're selling, so what you're counting on is that the people who've stayed up late enough to see your commercial are sleep deprived enough to mistakenly dial the number on the screen thinking they're paying the cable bill.  You'll then change the name of your company so that 4-6 weeks later, when the "Dance-O-Lot Cactus" arrives, they won't be able to track you down and try to return it. 

"Yes, this is Gimmick International, how may I help you today sir?" 

"Uhh yeah...somehow you guys got the impression that I wanted to buy one of these cactus things and somehow you got me to call you and give you my credit card number...not sure what happened, but I definitely do not want this thing."

"Well sir, did you know that your 'Dance-O-Lot Cactus' sings 'Love Me Tender' when the voice activation system hears anyone in the room?  It's funny and ironic because you can't tenderly love a cactus...you know, because of all the sharp needles on it.  Most people really love that feature!"

"Uhh yeah...I'm not interested and would like to return it."

"Have you tried 'feeding' it some coins?  It burps and farts when you do...very popular with the kids sir."

"Uhh...listen...I hate this freaking thing and am fighting the urge to smash it to pieces.  I want to send it back, how do I do that?"

"Sir this particular unit has an easily removable 'butt cork' that allows quick access to any money you may have stored in the unit.  Have you tried removing and replacing the cork?  It's very efficient!  I don't love my son very much and so I got him one of these for Christmas last year...he's saved up enough pennies to put a down payment on a bag of tropical Skittles.  We're very excited sir!"

"I WANT MY FREAKING MONEY BACK NOW LADY!  I'M NOT KEEPING THIS THING!  IT SUCKS AND YOU SHOULD BE SMASHED OVER THE HEAD WITH A SLEEPING BAG FULL OF HORNETS FOR SELLING IT TO ME!"

"Please hold sir while I transfer your call..." 

And they never come back to your call, and when you call back the number is no longer in service and the company no longer exists and you are stuck with your very own 'Dance-O-Lot Cactus' forever. 

The key to selling any product is to try to convince people that their lives will be better if they own it, and this is where the out of work actors come into play.  Their job is to act as though purchasing the "Dance-O-Lot Cactus" means ending the search for meaning and happiness in life.  This simple cactus, with it's witty sayings and easily removable butt cork, has managed to do for these people what religion, family, money, fame, fortune, etc. could not do - bring joy to their lives and smiles to their miserable faces.  "Life sucks.  Purchase a 'Dance-O-Lot Cactus' and everything will be alright."  Flash to some guy sitting in his trailer next to a stuffed racoon and a half-empty can of hot beer - "Since I got this here cactus, my whole life changed.  Now everyone loves me, and at nights me and all my friends 'n family come over to the trailer and gather 'round this thing and just laugh and laugh.  Seein' this thing dance heals my soul...and my hemmorhoids don't burn nearly as much!"  Flash to some scantily-clad bleached blonde - "'Dance-O-Lot' has brought the romance back into our marriage...and Vince has finally agreed to go see a counselor once he gets out of jail!"  Flash to some extremely happy kids playing 'CandyLand' with the cactus.  Flash to some grandpa using the cactus as a place to store his dentures overnight.  Flash to a scene of the signing of a worldwide peace treaty between all nations and the "Dance-O-Lot Cactus" sitting in the middle of the table, somehow responsible for it all.  "Yes folks, eternal bliss with every purchase guaranteed or your money back!"  How do these smokeblowers sleep at night?              

Despite all the cheesy acting and utter uselessness of the product being sold, there will inevitably be some absolute void who'll be interested in purchasing a "Dance-O-Lot Cactus."  This is where they, while struggling to withhold laughter and the urge to mock you for your bad decision making abilities, have to tell you how much it costs.  At this point, they figure if you're stupid enough or incapacitated enough to want to buy the product, you'll also suck at math.  Thus the "3 sets of 4 payments of the coefficient of $19.99 squared"...because everything has to sound like it costs 19.99.  I'm guessing they surveyed stupid people and found that this was the monetary breaking point, so no matter what it actually costs they have to come up with a way to make it cost "$19.99".  Then they have another challenge to face - the desire that most people will have to return the product.  What they do to counter this is to throw in a bunch of other stuff that's even more useless than the original product, but which is hard to pack up and send back to them.  So not only do you get the "Dance-O-Lot Cactus", but you also get a 32-piece set of black market knock-off Tupperware that comes in strange shapes and sizes so you can, for example, store a single tomato slice for up to 3 weeks!  We all know how beneficial storing vegetables by the slice can be!   Plus, you get the "Demolecularizer 3000" - a plastic knife that uses sound waves to break down foods you're wanting to slice.  It contains scientific technology that even the government hasn't figured out yet, but which this fly-by-night company can afford to freely give away to anyone that buys a "Dance-O-Lot Cactus."  The bottom line is, you'll never get this stuff all packed up and ready to ship via UPS in time to get your money back.  Pretty brilliant strategy for such idiots...if only they spent their time working on better stuff to sell rather than scamming us all, they might not contribute to the lowering of the national IQ as much.

What's so troubling here is that people are buying stuff like this.  You know they are, or there wouldn't be so many hours of TV dedicated to this mule dump.  I didn't have much faith in humanity before, but this is really starting to worry me.  I guess this explains the popularity of things like country music, 'So You Think You Can Dance' and pickle flavored potato chips.

For a limited time, you can receive a printed copy of this blog for only 5 small payments of the square root of 789!  Well, that plus shipping and handling...and I'll throw in a picture of me typing it up at the computer in my boxer shorts and a top hat at no extra charge!  Supplies are limited, so act now before I run out of that printer paper I confiscated from work....