My Soap Superior.

I’ve just realised who I am. Do you want to know who you are? We are not the noble meerkats of Russia battling through civil wars to compare insurance prices, we’re the tossers in all the other adverts; the one’s who’re overjoyed at getting pennies for our old jewelery, whooping with delight to be offered an even bigger loan than the one’s we’ve got already, tickled to death by an insufferable, overweight opera singer. That’s us, that is. Of course we’re lesser beings than the celebs whose sitting and chatting obviously warrants being watched by millions of us, but less than shampoo and car insurance? It’s to do with cart and horse. The cart, us, needs to be pulled by the horse, product. It used to be we were important purchasers, rightful customers, but when we were doing the pulling we could as it were make the wrong decisions. We sometimes took it into our head to not buy Suddso because it’s crap and International Soaps Inc. didn’t like that. “It is not enough zees days to appeal to our customers, ve must make zem realise zay are the stupid ones and it is our zoap that has the intellectual power to improve zair sad existence.” But how Mine Heir? “Ze actors must portray zem as stupid, mindless imbeciles who are guided only by zeir emotions. Zay must be shown as dim-witted losers whose only chance of happiness is to love our zoap.” But will they not like that portrayal of themselves? “Hanze, Hanze, zay will not even realise ve are stamping zeir self-worth into za dirt like ve did za Polish Jews, zay will laugh and learn to love us. Zay vil look up to our zoap as zeir superior, even though it is made from rendered svine genitals. Think of it Hanze, all those young ladies viping zeir faces with pigs penis. Oh how ve vil laugh on za vay to za bank.