>>> Casual Misanthropy
By staff writer JD Rebello
May 24, 2006

Honestly, how hard is it to make a fucking commercial?

I can't believe how dumb TV commercials are, or how dumb they think we are. It's ridiculous. On one channel you've got Jimmy Fallon dancing to that hideous techno song that makes me want to strangle a baby just so they don't have to grow up in a world where it's OK to put this crap on TV. On another channel, you have grotesque close-ups of athlete's foot (including that monster who climbs under a toenail). Thanks, commercial, I never eat while watching TV! On another channel is American Idol, only the single worst show in television history.

But there is one commercial, and you've probably seen it. Ugh. I'm getting the shakes just thinking about it. The Dunkin' Donuts commercial with the family in the minivan. You know how it goes: “Swimming, soccer, oboe, ballet, and last but not least…KARATAY-EAH!”

And it's not just me. Over the last two weeks, I've been discussing this monstrosity of an advertisement with anyone and everyone. It usually goes like this:

“'Soccer…swimming… oboe…and last but not least…KARATAY-EAH!' Make it stop. I feel like Christopher Walken in Deer Hunter.”

Me: Hey have you seen that Dunkin Donuts commercial?

Friend: Which one?
The one with that song and they go “KARATAY-EAH!?!”
OMFG! I hate that commercial!

I don't know why my friends speak in AOL lingo, but the fact remains. People hate this commercial.

How do I hate this commercial? Let me count the ways.

1. That song: It burns my brain.

“Soccer…swimming…oboe…and last but not least…KARATAY-EAH!” Make it stop. I'm serious. I feel like Christopher Walken in Deer Hunter. Honestly, why would anyone write a song like that? Did it ever cross their puny minds that people would be sitting at home trying to enjoy a baseball game or late night rerun of Will and Grace and not want to hear something like this? Are these the same Mensa-ites who imagined that stunning Pepto Bismol anthem? (You remember, “Upset stomachs…bloating…diarrhea!”)

What bugs me is, one person didn't come up with this. There was likely a team—a team of college graduates, many of whom likely majored in marketing and advertising—who sat around and wrote this. They probably took several days and nights. They probably ordered Chinese and paced back and forth in the conference room. What devious inspiration could cause someone to think up that “KARATAY-EAH!” part? Is this how Meinkampf was constructed? I imagine it went something like this:

Exec 1: Okay, so far we've got “Swimming, soccer, oboe, ballet, and last not but not least…karate.” Now we need something
Exec 2:
Yes, our goal is to make our viewers want to put a bullet in their brain. We're close, but we're missing something.
Exec 1:
Ooh, I got it! You know how karate guys go “Hey-yeah!” after they punch someone?
Exec 2:
Of course, I'm a lobotomized asshole and all I watch are Steven Seagal movies!
Exec 1:
Well, let's attach that to the end of “karate.”
Exec 2:
Hmm. So it sounds like “Karatay-eah”?
Exec 1:
Exec 2:
(Stabs self in heart with spork) Perfection!

2. The fucking karate kid: I hate this kid.

I want bad things to happen to him. Awful things like an incurable rash at the base of his testes or reading one of Nick Gaudio's columns. The kid, he's too into it. I know he's young, and when you're young, you're a complete and utter dumbass, but Christ. First off, the kid is going to be gay. Not just because he's an actor and clearly enjoying his profession. You can just tell. He's too exuberant. When you're straight, even as a child, you're aware that you're spending the rest of your life dealing with women and exuberance is not a strong suit. Ever since I realized boobies got me hard, I've been a miserable prick.

Now there's nothing wrong with being gay, when you're older. But when you're gay as a kid, man that's like irritation squared. Kids are loud and obnoxious. Gays are loud and obnoxious. (Except for Jonny Cakes, who seemed pretty chill.)

3. The mother: She's an ugly whore.

Of course, it’s not her fault. Her Protestant God made her that way (I know she's Protestant because a Catholic mother would never allow such flamboyance from her fag Power Ranger of a son). But, like the Pink Ninja, she too is way too into the song.

Here's what irks me: clearly there were auditions. Clearly, some other actress came in and dialed down the song, thinking, “If I sing this with too much glee, the poor viewer's going to fantasize about stomping on my throat.” So she took a bit off her performance, and the director was probably like: “Next. Listen lady, you're good. It's just we're aiming for a real nails on chalkboard moment here. I'm afraid you're too much of a human.”

4. It's on constantly.

I designed a flow chart that clearly proved that the worse a commercial, the more it's on. Christ, I see that wonderful CareerBuilder.com ad (the one with the monkeys) maybe once a season. But, the crazy family and their KARATAY-EAH are on between innings of every Red Sox game. I hate it! It's not fair. All I want to do is watch the Sox. (By the way, I'd upload the flow chart so you could see my findings, but I didn't actually design one. In fact, I don't even know what a flow chart is.) Is this like the James Blunt Principle, where the worst a song is, the more play it gets? “You're beautiful… it's true'?” Fuck off.

5. It makes me hate Dunkin Donuts.

Thus, the commercial has failed. I love the Dunk. I love ordering my iced coffee extra extra. I love heating up my blueberry muffin in the microwave. I love the fact that they think steak should be sold for $2.99, and I love the fact that said steak tastes eerily like it's been grilled in a boxing trainer's ass crack. But I refuse to support a company that would subject millions to this hair brained, magnificently irritating pile of 45-second puke. I have few principles in life, but that is one.

The other is to see to it that the lady who ripped off her husband's wang gets lethal injection. She has single-handedly ruined handjobs for that man forever!

And last but not least…KARATAY-EAH! (Feel my pain.)

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