Verizon Wireless has been advertising their NFL Mobile app with commercials highlighting the amazing transformation of dweebs into jock-sniffers simply by staring at their cellphones. Remember that scene from Clockwork Orange where they taped his eyes open and made him watch violent videos? Apparently that's good for you now.

There are 2 of these commercials, "Andy" and "Jane." Because, like both Andy and Jane, I watch waaaay too much football, I must have seen each of these a hundred times. Unlike Andy and Jane, my incessant consumption of NFL products has yet to lure NFL quarterbacks to my backyard barbecues. Although I can intelligently discuss endgame strategy, recognize Tampa 2 coverage, and explain referee hand signals, none of those abilities has in any way improved my social standing.

These uplifting vignettes of zeros to heroes remind me of those fundamentalists who are determined to metamorphose homosexuals into heterosexuals via vigorous psychological reconditioning. Originally a lonely misfit, Andy is schmoozing with hot women by the end of his commercial. Shut-in Jane transforms from lonely cat lady to someone who yells at people on the bus. It's conversion therapy, NFL style!

Funny, too, that these commercials run almost exclusively during football games. If the NFL's product was so transformative, wouldn't I already have supermodels running their fingers through my overly gelled hair? I'm beginning to suspect that it isn't the NFL that's helping these geeks so much as it is their nifty Verizon smartphones. Mankind had expected the Rise of the Machines to involve Teutonic cyborgs, but in 2012 the end of the world has been preceded by stormtroopers of talking address books.

Think I'm kidding? Both Andy and Jane start their commercials wearing eyeglasses, and after months of staring intently at 6-inch screens held at the end of their noses, neither needs glasses any longer! "Can you see me now?" says Verizon! I gotta admit, if Telephone Jesus can restore the vision that I lost in the 3rd grade, I'll sign-up for their longest-term contract on the spot!

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First my father calls me during the Olympics and tells me about the "poodle commercial." But I didn't see it on tv. Then Mom calls me to rush upstairs and see the "Allstate commercial with a poodle," but I'm too late for that one, too. Thankfully, there's the internet to the rescue.

Hmm. The plot summary of that "kick the dog" commercial is "don't you know that Allstate ensures everything easily and cheaply, you idiot?" You know one thing that Allstate doesn't insure? Pets.

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Just in time to send Superman and Advertising Month out with a bang, I received an advertising flyer in the mail this week for fireworks. Specifically, this ad promotes Phantom Fireworks, which has been advertising very aggressively this season. In addition to stuffing my mailbox, they have billboards on Interstate 85 in Atlanta and even commercials on local cable television. Too bad that the products they are promoting are illegal to possess here in Georgia.

It's not uncommon to see ads in Atlanta for casinos and dog-racing tracks in nearby Alabama and North Carolina. However, the sinful activities taking place within those locations don't extend beyond their own boundaries. Phantom doesn't explicitly tell us to take our fireworks across state lines, but their advertising slyly points out how their stores are just over the state line, wink, wink. I suspect that they would be irritated if I tried to shoot my new fireworks in their parking lot.

Georgia legalized fireworks about 6 years ago. Specifically, Georgia legalized sparklers and noisemakers, but not rockets of any sort. That means that despite Phantom's fantastic "Buy One Get One Free!" offer, I can't really buy anything. No 6-shot Mighty Mite's Mortars, no 12-shot Def-Con Alerts, no 30-shot Blue Brocade Barrages, and certainly no 100-shot Saturn Batteries.

No, no Phantom Fireworks for us here in Georgia. Thanks to the Georgia legislature, we're stuck with only Wolf Pack Snaps and Morning Glory Sparklers sold in the seasonal, appropriately-named Acme Fireworks tents. Because even children know that if there's any place to buy explosives of any sort, it's not from a company named Acme!

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EXT. PATIO - NIGHT.

WALTER and TREY sit in plastic patio adirondack chairs. The only light comes from the window in the kitchen door. Walter holds a Coca-Cola can, Trey drinks a beer from a bottle. The pair are discussing potential content for the Wriphe.com blog.

TREY

It has to be about Superman and advertising?

WALTER

No, Superman or advertising. It's an either/or. I'm trying to make it broader in appeal, not narrower.

TREY

What about advertisements that feature Facebook? I don't mean commercials for Facebook, but commercials that include Facebook in advertising another project. Like that car commercial where the girl talks about how many more friends she has on Facebook than her parents. You know the one: "that's too small to be a real puppy!"

WALTER

Okay, that's one, but what other commercials feature Facebook?

TREY

Nothing comes to mind. But there has to be something else, right? Do a little research!

WALTER

Why would I research commercials that reference Facebook? I don't even like Facebook.

TREY

That's why. Your website is the blog equivalent of the comic strip Cathy. You freak out about stupid things.

WALTER

How dare you compare my blog to Cathy? I'm more like the Calvin and Hobbes of blogging! Crazy but well rendered ideas!

TREY

You, like Calvin? Now that's crazy! No, you're more like the Curtis of blogging: your runaway ego always gets you into trouble.

WALTER

Aack!

Frustrated by Trey's typically misunderstanding male perspective, Walter storms inside the kitchen door in search of some non-judgemental chocolate.

THE END

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This time next year, I'll probably be talking about the Man of Steel. The sixth live-action Warner Brothers Superman movie is set for a June 13, 2013, opening. If the teaser posters are any indication, I don't expect to be saying nice things.

Believe it or not, I do understand that the character has to be kept up to date in order to appeal to a modern audience (read: teenagers). I also know that character designs that work in a 4-color comic book won't necessarily go over on a movie screen. But you'll never convince me that dressing Superman as an X-Man is the ticket to box-office success.

Hey, Warner Brothers, remember Superman Returns and how it didn't earn back it's budget in American ticket sales? Maybe, just maybe, that's because what you're selling isn't our Superman. Superman is Truth and Justice, not just some strongman draped in shades of gray.

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Last week, New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg announced that he wanted to ban the sale of individual servings of "sugary drinks" over 16 ounces. In a country facing a staggering economy, continued high unemployment, and a politically-motivated class war, it's facing an inability to purchase 64-oz Big Gulps in 7-11 stores in Manhattan that has the population up in arms.

Those who opposed the ban, including misnamed, non-profit mouth-pieces for the beverage and restaurant industries like the Center for Consumer Freedom, have been running ads opposing the proposed law. However, to disguise the issue that no one really cares if they can't buy a Coke in a styrofoam cup large enough to drown a midget in, these lobbyists are attacking Bloomberg as a tyrant determined to take away our American freedoms. That's not advertising, that's propaganda!

If anyone should be concerned that government might take away my Coca-Cola, it should be me. But I really don't mind if I can't buy a fountain beverage larger than 16 ounces. If I want more than that, I can pay for another one. Just because the technology exists to make larger cups doesn't mean that we have to put drinks in them. By that logic, let's start throwing Bounty paper towels into the ocean to see how many it takes to absorb it all, just because a) we can and b) it will help Proctor & Gamble turn a bigger profit this quarter.

Don't try to bait and switch me by telling me that I have the God-given right to be a fat ass. And don't tell me that a maneuver to regulate the destructive business tactics that have contributed to my fat-assery constitutes a Fascist state. Bloomberg is trying to save the Jews, not gas them.

Honestly, I suspect that just like New York's attempt to tax sodas in 2008, this measure will probably encounter too much popular opposition (read: big business money) to ever go into effect. But I don't think we should let the advertisers confuse us by comparing Snapple with Orange Crush. Whether we like government or not, we should't be tricked into buying something something just because we (aluminum) can.

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I know that I'm a bit prudish, but I really, really don't want to associate Liquid-Plumr with a double-penetrating ménage à trois. Don't get me wrong, I'm not against group sex. I just don't want Liquid-Plumr involved in any of my sexual acts. My turn-offs include hair clogs and chemical burns.

If I'm a prude, what does that make One Million Moms? OMM is the same group that opposed Ellen DeGeneres being spokesman for JC Penny and decried DC Comics' recent homosexualizing of Green Lantern. The group also opposes this 2012 commercial, stating "the new Liquid-Plumr ad is offensive and completely inappropriate for television."

Inappropriate for television? I'm not sure I'd go that far. Television is a pretty vapid wasteland of sex and violence. But I would agree that it is probably inappropriate to sell a drain cleaner as the sexy option in the household poisons aisle.

What's next? Vibrating bottles? Phallic-shaped pipe cleaners? This is one sticky situation that practically cries out for a slippery slope argument. Though I guess that's the point the commercial was trying to make, too.

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It seems that Superman alone isn't enough to please my readers anymore (tough crowd), so I'm sweetening the pot. Therefore, I'm adding another all-American concept to my June posts. Welcome to the 6th Annual Superman and Advertising Month at Wriphe.com!

Why advertising, you ask? Because it's what made America great. Where else in the world do they run commercials telling you that you should ask your doctor for the latest, greatest shingles medication? What would we be without non-stop car commercials interrupting our prime-time entertainment? How would people even know who we are if we weren't carrying our American Express cards?

So sit back, relax, and let Superman and Advertising Month wash over you. Catch the wave! The juice is loose! I'm lovin' it!

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"I'm Joe Montana, and I spent 16 years playing football...
...and Shape-Upsâ„¢ have improved my strength and posture."

-- Joe Montana, (paid endorser)

Say it ain't so, Joe. You must have been the only one helped by the shoe, then. Earlier this week, Skechers agreed to pay $50 million in settlement of a class-action lawsuit alleging that the only thing Skechers was shaping up with it's Shape-Ups™ shoes was its wallet.

Shape-Ups™'s other celebrity endorser was Kim Kardashian, and we know what her integrity is worth. Does Joe Montana need cash so badly that he's willing to attach his name to just anything these days? What's next, Joe Montana's propane-powered toothbrushes (the Joe Mouth-tana®: "Brush Your Way to Victory!")? Joe Montana's chemical toilets (the Joe John®: "When You Gotta Go All the Way!")? Joe Montana's homemade deer bait (the Doe Montana®: "Doing It for the Fawns!")?

At least Jimmy Johnson has cornered the market on celebrity football endorsements of herbal erection supplements. No one needs to be exposed to the slogan, "As Big As Montana!"

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