Let’s Dance!

In watching American television, for those programs through which I must still suffer with commercials, I've noticed something very dishonest:

Everyone in commercials dances.

No one dances like that every time they're happy or just catch a fleeting wisp of good luck. Of course, this is symbolic of the person using a product being tickled shitless about using it. How life is so damn sweet in using a product or service that the dancers just can't help themselves.

Saving money makes the debtor dance. And being just a click away, there's plenty enough time to dance. How clean the soap makes you feel provokes the rhythms in your spine that have you dance away in pure muscle memory. Picking up your rental car without the wait, you don't just want to dance — you have to.

No gluten, then dance! No interest for a year? Gotta dance. Double your order (just pay extra shipping and processing), then dance!

Aliens monitoring our airwaves would come away thinking we are an exclusively dancing species. Are we? Yet, all these dancing fools dance alone. They twist and turn and put that pep in their step, prancing to some call of the Sirens heard in their limbic systems. Until that year is up and the interest starts accruing again. Not so sweet. Dance? Melancholic, dejected, gloomy, heartbreaking, and mournful dances don't come full circle for these people: advertising does not deal in duality.

The last time I danced was...I don't remember. And while good things are still happening to me, I fail to enter any type of obedient dancing trance. Yet, now that I've noticed this pattern, I cannot UN-NOTICE it on commercials. Maybe I should pay the extra for Netflix without them.