Phone Commercials
First published 11/25/1999

I envision a world without phone commercials. The penalty for producing or appearing in one? Death. And that law applies retroactively.

There’d be a trial. We’re not barbarians. Phone commercial celebrities would get a chance to plead their case in front of the supreme tribunal, and those who’ve done good work in the past might be spared. Paul Riser might get life in prison, for example, because he was good in Aliens. Murphy Brown would have no defense.

I mean, look, phone companies: there’s no point in advertising. Everybody hates you. Why do they hate you? Because you’re phone companies. How can you like a company that raises the price of a payphone call to 35¢ and at the same time rigs the payphones to say "thank-you" when you put in the money? They shouldn’t say "thank-you." They should say "sorry."

At least there’s some justification for phone company commercials. Phone companies have to compete with one another, somewhat. This isn’t the case with utility companies. Theoretically, companies like EPCOR and ATCO and WATCOR and EPCATWATOPOCORPORCAT are advertising because they’re preparing for some kind of deregulated future where you’ll be able to buy your utilities from any one of a number of giant evil companies. But that’s not really why they do it.

The real reason these monopolies have started advertising is because it makes the executives in charge feel like they’re running businesses even though, really, they’re not.

What is a business? A business is something that competes against other businesses. The water company isn’t a business. It’s a neo-feudal organization that’s been given the power to exact a water tithe on us serfs. You don’t have to be a businessman to make money owning the water company. My Han Solo doll could own the water company and it’d make just as much money. In fact, it’d make more because my Han Solo doll would have the sense not to waste a bunch of dough on useless advertising.

That’s the real reason why I’m afraid of privatized health care. Not because of rising costs or reduced access. Because of the annoying sanctimonious hospital ads which would soon flood the air. Think of those Benalyn commercials times a hundred, except with more sick Grampas being comforted by little kids and sick little kids being comforted by Grampas and sick little kids and Grampas both being comforted by other little kids and Grampas. Ugh!

Mind you, if they do allow private clinics here in Alberta, my hope is that my Han Solo doll will be given a franchise. Come to Han Solo with your illnesses. Han Solo listens. He cares. His loveable furry wookie will dance for your pleasure while his helpful medical droid will repair your injuries. Throw rocks at Ewoks to amuse yourself while Lando and his freaky bald sidekick with a computer in his head prepare you delicious and healthful food.

And what does Han Solo Memorial Hospital recommend for a light saber wound? I’ve always found the Benalyn formulation to be quite effective for my patients.

Like the column? Buy the book! 100 Years of Subatomic Humor now on sale!