Why TV Is No Help

I saw a confusing commercial on TV today. It was from a law firm that was suing the makers of a birth control pill that didn't work and apparently caused all manner of health problems, including death, and they wanted you to call to join their suit. They even had an eight-hundred number, 1-800-BAD DRUG.

This was not the confusing part. With enough money, I could hire a lawyer to sue the estate of Andrew Jackson for not preventing the Civil War, and it turns out people do this kind of thing every day in these United States. This is sad, but not confusing.

The confusing part is the fact that at no point do you see some stuffy lawyer in a wood paneled office with huge bookshelves lined with thick tomes of law. No. What they show you is pictures of beautiful, desirable women, some scantily clad, in alluring poses with a "come hither" look in their eye...FOR A BIRTH CONTROL PILL THAT COULD CAUSE DEATH! To make matters worse, the voice over is of a deep, masculine voiced man explaining the serious health hazards of the drug as if he were narrating a 1950's style educational film on how to survive an atomic bomb blast.

This is the part I find confusing.

The narrator is trying to convince me to call these lawyers because there are bad birth control pills out there and I have a small hope of redress for the wrong I, or a loved one, may have suffered and he does this with the urgency of a ticking bomb or a naked blade at your throat.

This is countered by images of sexy women dashing along the beach with the surf gently caressing their feet as the spray wets her top a little more, only to be followed by the woman sprawled in front of a roaring fire place on a thick rug. She has been reading the open book in front of her but has paused to slide her reading glasses off her face and nibbles the earpiece seductively before turning to the camera to exhibit a coquettish grin. She manages to waggle her ass in time with shaking out her ponytail. The next is walking a large dog through the park and she has to jog to keep up with the hound. The camera follows her heaving breasts right through the scene despite the fact that she is braless and her navy blue polo is unforgiving on a cold day.

All this to get me to call a lawyer.

I remain confused.
Doc