I know you had your heart set on the Blend-o Lifestyle Appliance 4800. And I could tell by your incredibly creative obscenities that you were disappointed. I’d be happy to pay for the damages caused when you tried to lob my gift out the window. I didn’t tell you at the time, but your mother tried to lace my slice of cake with arsenic later that night, David. I’m aware of the sadness I have caused.
I won’t pretend I haven’t seen the infomercials. Like most people, I put my pants on one leg at a time, and ascend past satellite channel 400 only after 2 a.m. But you have to believe me, David that the blender, and the good-looking, evenly-tanned people who sell it, have been lying to you about the blender’s capabilities. I know their words are persuasive, but one appliance cannot possibly peel, dice, mash, and sauté any food, replace automotive glass, offer comprehensive financial advice, and mediate marriage counseling sessions. I’ve studied the videos for signs of sleight of hand, but all I’ve been able to uncover are the garish evidence of one spokesperson’s poor plastic surgery, and the brief but obscene gestures of a studio audience member. Nevertheless, my disbelief stands.
My second concern is the attractively sinister look of the spokespeople themselves. Their warm smiles and seemingly genuine human empathy are guises for cunning and soullessness. And the audience, gasping and gawking. Those people are actors, David. No one – no one – cares that much about anything unless their own life is in danger, or unless a Kardashian is in some way involved.
My final qualm is with these sales claims. In the three hours I spent watching the infomercial, a reassuring male voice told me eight times that if I called now, I would receive six blenders instead of one. David, didn’t you notice that this offer never ceased? Unless these people endorse some sort of spatiotemporal theory of a perpetual now, then their words are as cheap as their dental implants.
Space heaters, on the other hand, David, are transparent and true. They will not meddle in your marital affairs. They will not claim an ability to repair windshields they cannot. Their function is clear: to keep you warm in a cold world , while you pay your twenty-three installments of $19.99.