This is one of those clips that any comment from yours truly would ruin. Let it be said that patience is a virtue and by the time the video concludes, you’ll know why this has appeared in our pages.
It was a strange, unpleasant end to the previous week for me, dear readers. My guts, seized by some unholy specter, churned and roiled, swiftly and explosively expelling any and all substances that passed through their many, circuitous bi-ways. Thus it was that my feverish malaise burst into a fluid drenched hallucinatory nightmare for 48 hours. I can honestly say that I was out of sorts.
All this is bad enough, but to then have one of my editors suddenly reappear, kicking in the door of my office, a demented smirk on his face, filthy, and reeking of Strawberry Ripple and shame; staying just long enough to scream “HEY BOY, TAKE A LOOK AT MY WORD MAKING!” before running off into the night, cackling; off to gallivant wherever it is he gallivants, well, you see how I might be a little confused.
That said, this Cthursday-flavored offering comes from Joseph Nanni — whose work has previously been featured on Ectomo — and Bad Advice for Good Times. It was important that I post this. They have to talk to you. About polyps.
Three posters for the Sci-Fi Channel, spoofing popular horror and science fiction tropes. This is, I think, my favorite in the sense that it almost a completely perfect reversal of the 50s, alien invasion image. The Creature From the Black Lagoon is a close second.
Everyone is, no doubt, well aware of just how important an award is in advertising but the full weight of such an honor may not be entirely apparent. Maximilian Villivankk is here to correct that oversight, because Maximilian Villivankk understands awards in a way that you never could. He is privy to the many hidden facets of the award-winner’s lifestyle. Facets that include sexy friends, bow-ties, and gold Speedos. Truly an illuminating lecture. All brought to you by director Jim Hosking in the grand tradition of David Lynch.
Man that pisses me off. Just the thought of it chaps my ass. Who the fuck do they think they are? I mean, really? Fucking really? They think they’re so fucking cool with their goddamn cool names and pretentious fucking initials. Fuck them; fucking cocksuckers. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK, they piss me off so much. GOD FUCKING DAMMIT WHAT DO THEY HAVE THAT I DON’T! RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU ALL! FUCK YOU AND YOU AND ESPECIALLY YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!
Seriously, I’m out. I’m going the fuck home. You can all blow me.
The award winning commercial for Luden’s cough drops featuring sound work by the one and only Frank Zappa. The voice over at the end makes it many times stranger than it would be on its own.
Admittedly, I’ve come across many things on this vast internet — either on my own or through our tip line — since I started writing for Ectomo, but few things have presented any sort of internal conflict on whether or not to post. No, the line is usually clear as to whether something belongs on the front page and, in the rare instances that I have been unsure, my esteemed editors have been swift and most often times brutal in their duty, striking down the most heinous of content while simultaneously letting me know just how disgusting they find whatever piece of my buried subconscious I had decided to expose to the open air.
This particular video did, indeed, give me pause. Should this go up? I didn’t know. By its creators own admission it is nothing official; it does not represent some newly discovered mise en scène employed by Microsoft to market their Zune device, and yet there is effort here. It is not merely a collection of images with no inherent meaning, but instead spotlights one of the Zune’s social features that is, the ability to share or “squirt” music between Zunes. In that regard, this faux ad succeeds brilliantly, deftly highlighting that very ability with a splattering of colors. On the other hand, it does this with a rotund, hirsute gentleman who also happens to be nude. I will leave it to you to find out for yourself how the whole visual metaphor works out.
And with that I hit “Publish”. Believe me when I say that I am so, so sorry to have done this to you but, as we all know, misery loves company.
Also, NSFW.
Zune Paint by Sibling Rivalry [Vimeo] : Blame Frank!
There are, I suppose, two ways to take this ad for Goodyear’s “Double Eagle” tires. The first is that a woman, incapable of understanding the subtleties of using a jack to raise a portion of her car off the ground and then having to deal with the mysterious complexity of threaded nuts and bolts, will walk for what seems like miles, running the risk of being dragged off into the bushes to be raped and murdered by a man or group of men, only so that she can get to a phone — because those broads love to just yak yak yak, am I right fellas?
The other way to take it is that men can easily be replaced by dual walled, rubber tires.
Scot points out that your cheap, uncomfortable paper towels may be turning your employees against you. Indeed, this gentleman has already acquired both the demeanor and moustache of the Communist. In other news, were you aware that you can catch Fascism from public restroom toilet seats? Believe it.
My sincerest apologies, ye denizens of the wonderful, monstrous Ecto-Nation, for the deplorable lack of content over the last few days. Your outrage at the passing of a Monday unmoustachioed is, of course, understandable. Had I been able to drag myself to my computer I would have most assuredly fulfilled my duties however, due to the fact that I am a young man in possession of the body of a centenarian, I could not. No, dear readers, the past three days have been spent on my back, the muscles of my lumbar gripping the delicate nerves of my spine in a vise-like death grip. Only through sheer willpower — and 10 milligrams of Cyclobenzaprine — have a been able to lurch over to the keyboard. I pray this will serve as explanation should my normal, typo-laden musings be more…laden…than usual.
That out of the way, on to the clip. The above is an ad for Nike Women featuring Nicola Sanders, who I assume is a runner of some repute and whose organs and muscles all have mouths which they use to spit gibberish at each other. Also, her brain wears a monocle, an image which is so fitting that I dare say I will be unable to look at a brain ever again without superimposing the eyepiece upon it. The whole concept is extremely simple and the animation takes it just far enough into weird territory to work without coming off as horrifying. That’s how it strikes me at least, your unmedicated mileage may vary. Creativity has the hi-res version.
A Bridgestone advertisement, chronicling a dog’s attempt to end his own life after witnessing his bitch’s infidelity, leads to an Ectomite brainstorming session, not regarding the sale of rubber radials, but intead selling the act itself:
I can see it now, The scene opens on a suburban housewife in a black and white kitchen, frantically chopping away at ( and missing) a tomato. The baritone male voice over begins over the scene. “Every day tasks are such a bother. Why not just kill yourself?” The woman turns to the camera, smiles, and then turns the knife quickly on herself.
In sheer defiance of the World Wide Web Consortium's will, Ectomo was designed using a non-web-standard font. Luckily, it is included in the excellent font pack released by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, which can be freely downloaded in Mac and PC formats here. Ectomo should still look fine without it, though.