A few months ago, I heard Chris Brown's newest single on the radio. I wasn't really paying attention, but about halfway through the song, my girlfriend asked me "Did he just say 'double the pleasure, double the fun'?". We listened until the chorus came around again and realized the answer was yes. That was the last time I listened to the song, as I don't have any desire to drive around listening to commercials for chewing gum. It wasn't until a few weeks ago, however, that Doublemint Gum actually came out in a press conference to say that the song was a commercial. We all figured it out the first time we heard it, but it had to be unveiled as though it were some sort of incredible charade that had been pulled over on all of us. Now there are commercials with Chris Brown dancing around with a pack of gum while the song plays behind him. What if this is a portent of things to come, however? Could this campaign have been so successful that it spawns copycats? Will I soon be listening to the radio only to hear Madonna's newest single paid for by Vagisil? Will club-goers soon be grinding to Rhianna's sexy new single for Arm and Hammer Baking Soda? I'm all for capitalism, but what about the artists that actually have something they want to express, other than their love of money? Should old bands start incorporating adds into their classic songs? I could only imagine going to a Dream Theater concert and having James LaBrie introduce a song by announcing "Nothing pulls me under like the crisp, refreshing taste of Bud Light!". What, then, would be to stop Michael Jackson from altering The Beatles hits to include advertisements for new products? The song "Help" could very easily be turned into an add for Google, and "8 Days A Week" could be modified to advertise Comcast's On-demand system. Are there any limits to the horrors that Chris Brown may have unleashed on the world? In the hopes of being picked up as a writer for Lewis Black, I now propose to you my "Ripple of Evil":
Following in the footsteps of Doublemint and Chris Brown, all companies will start employing billboard stars for their ads. The
strategy will prove so successful, that singing will replace speaking in retail stores as well, as a means to boost sales. Soon,
singing will replace speaking entirely, and the influx of liberal arts content will turn everyone man, woman, and child in the
United States completely gay. Artificial insemination will be suggested as a means to propagate the species despite the lack of
fornication, and men nationwide will begin masturbating furiously into jars in the hopes of spawning their own musical theatre.
Unfortunately, the male doctors will find the female reproductive system "too icky" to deal with, and with male professors no longer
interested in sleeping with their female students, there will be no way for any woman to achieve the title of doctor. With the hope
of artificial insemination a thing of the past, the massive jars of semen will remain teetering high up on long-forgotten shelves until The
Great Tapdancing Tragedy of 2015 when, in a completely gay symbol of unity, citizens join together holding hands and forming a line from coast
to coast while simultaneously trying to set a record for largest group tapdance. The shockwaves from the millions of people dancing in unison
will create a nationwide earthquake, knocking the jars of semen off their shelves and creating tidal waves of sticky goo that wash away
all the nation's crops and salt the Earth so that nothing can ever grow again. With the new food shortage, America will turn to the north,
hoping to find help from the Canadians. However, seeing our weakness and desperation, Canada will choose to invade America rather than to help us.
The president will try to push the big red button on his desk to declare war against Canada, but his wrist will simply be too limp to apply enough
pressure, and he will instead be forced to sign our surrender, dotting all of his i's with little hearts, and forever making the American citizens
slaves of Canada.
This is apparently the future that Chris Brown wants, eh?
If you don't chew Big Red, then fuck you
© 2008 by Dr. Jeebus