No, I Don't Got.

All right, I'm happy to concede that the "Got Milk?" ad campaign was cute and original. I myself have probably drunk thousands of gallons more milk than I might otherwise have.

But. Please, everybody. Everybody. STOP taking the "Got...?" formula and applying it to every other thing under the sun. It's over.

I've seen Got Homes, Got Wood, Got Junk, Got Shoes, Got Wine, Got Lunch. Enough. No I don't Got. And based on your sad copycat marketing, I don't plan to Get any time soon.

Really, is that the best you could do? I mean, even if you're a mom and pop furniture store doing a low budget ad campaign for Comcast Spotlight* it's okay. I don't have high expectations. But really? The best you could do?

I guess we can all count ourselves fortunate that this idea didn't catch on in certain quarters, such as public service ("Got Amber Alert Suspect? Call 911...") or healthcare ("Got to Pee Frequently During the Night? Ask your doctor if Flomax is right for you.").

Again, let me reiterate: to the guys who came up with the ORIGINAL "Got Milk?" campaign? Hearty congrats, major props, big ups to you. But to all the others just borrowing it? That's just sad. Pathetic and over. As over as a thirty-something white blogger using "major props." As pathetic as same blogger saying "big ups."



*Comcast Spotlight, for those of you who don't know, is, essentially a response to the TIVO phenomenon, as only Comcast could conceive of it. It's a channel on cable that shows...commercials. As in, "Hey, we know you fast forward through all the ads now, but if you'd care to watch nothing but poorly produced commercials for local merchants, it's right here!" It's Comcastic.

Randy Jackson has trouble with numbers.

I'm a fan of American Idol and I like Randy Jackson, but seriously, I'm not sure he has a firm grip on the meaning of numbers. Example:

Randy listens to auditioner #1. He's good. Simon says yes, Paula says yes. What does Randy say?

"For me it's a thousand percent yes, dog. Welcome to Hollywood!"

Cut to auditioner #2. She is also good. Simon says yes, Paula weeps and says "you have a beautiful heart," Simon audibly rolls his eyes. And Randy says:

"One million percent yes! You're going to Hollywood!"

Did Randy really like auditioner #2 a thousand times more than he liked auditioner #1? Does Randy mean it when he conveys to us the fact that he believes that singer #1 has only 0.001 as much talent as singer #2? I doubt it. I suspect he has a limited capacity to understand the meaning of numbers.

In fact, the modern world and its number systems have created limitless potential for hyperbole. Randy's on a slippery slope, I think. Soon, he'll say yes to someone "infinity percent." And then he'll wonder: where to go from there? Infinity plus 1? Infinity plus 2? No! Infinity times 2! No, wait! Wait! Infinity squared!

And then his brain will go pop! and he'll start sounding like John Nash from "A Beautiful Mind." Paula will seem lucid by comparison.













I wonder if Randy has similar problems with spatial reasoning, and other measurement concepts.

Officer: "Do you know how fast you were going, Mr. Jackson?"

Randy: "Well, I would guess I was doing about... four tablespoons."

What if Randy gave you directions to his house?

"Take the 405 north and go about 2000 miles to the exit for Sherman Oaks, and then turn right. Keep going on that for about 6 or 7 years. My place is the 86th house on the left."

Randy wouldn't have had this problem in a more primitive society. He still would have been hyperbolic - that's what show business people do - but he would have had fewer options: 1, 2 or many.

Cut to Primitive American Idol:

Simon: "Paula?"

Paula (weeping): "I... you know, you just glow up there. And I love your deerskin slippers. I say 'one-yes.'"

Simon: "Randy, yes or no?"

Randy: "For me it was a 'many-yes.' Welcome to Hollywood, dog!"

An added bonus of Primitive Idol is that the chances of Ryan Seacrest being devoured by a Sabre-toothed tiger would increase by at least, I don't know, a million percent.