• by Erik Sass , Staff Writer @eriksass1, February 9, 2007

It's finally gone too far.

First, there was the absurd over-reaction from state and federal authorities to the Cartoon Network's "guerrilla" outdoor campaign in Boston. Next, Masterfoods came under fire for a mildly naughty Snickers ad during the Super Bowl, which gay-rights activists called homophobic. And now, the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention is slamming GM for another Super Bowl ad that depicts an assembly line robot killing itself--no, scratch that, dreaming about killing itself.

So when did we turn into a nation of hand-wringing ninnies?

If you think that label is unfair, just check out the bizarre hyperbole used in the complaints. According to Thomas Menino, the mayor of Boston, the Cartoon Network promo for Aqua Teen was "outrageous" and "unconscionable." Unconscionable? Really? Misconceived, certainly. But no one was hurt, and no property was damaged.

Menino then threatened to petition the FCC to yank parent company Turner's broadcast license--a reaction akin to shooting your neighbor in the head for stepping on your lawn. (Never mind that the FCC has no such power.) That the devices were thought to threaten transportation infrastructure is especially ironic in light of Boston's Big Dig--an ongoing disaster where the authorities have been slow to react, to put it generously.

Not to be outdone, after the Super Bowl gay-rights groups tore into Masterfoods for three Snickers ads they believed were homophobic. "This kind of prejudice was inexcusable," according to Marc McCarthy, a spokesman for GLAAD. Joe Solomonese, director of the Human Rights Campaign, called it a "haunting reminder once again that we've got a lot more work to do," casting the controversy as another step in the movement from Stonewall to the present day. The only problem is, the ads aren't mocking gays--they're mocking straights.

In the ad that aired during the Super Bowl, two car mechanics accidentally kiss while eating a Snickers bar from opposite ends, then panic as their sexuality is thrown into doubt. To prove their manliness, they each rip out a patch of chest hair in painful fashion. In the second ad, which appeared online, the same men are joined by a third mechanic who sidles up to ask, "Is there room for three in this loveboat?"

In the third ad, the two mechanics expiate their shame by attacking each other, which reminded some viewers of gay bashing. But the mechanics are voluntarily allowing themselves to be injured--providing the (scant) element of humor. The joke is on straight men that are comically hyper-vigilant about their sexuality (e.g., the frat boy who gets defensive when asked to assess another man's looks: "Dude, I don't look at dudes!").

And now there's the GM robot suicide ad, in which an assembly-line robot is laid off and jumps off a bridge--then wakes at the last minute and realizes it was just a dream. The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention called this ad "offensive and potentially dangerous." (For who? Anthropomorphic robot actors?)

Robert Gebbia, the foundation's executive director, added: "The GM ad is insensitive to the tens of millions of people who have lost loved ones to suicide. The ad also suggests a troubling and potentially dangerous message: that suicide is a logical and rational decision should one experience failure or lose their job."

Set aside the fact that no one at GM or Interpublic Group's Deutsch, the creative agency, intended to encourage people to commit suicide.

And the fact that it's a robot that is having a dream. This complaint, like the others, is entirely subjective, focusing on a single incident, even though popular culture is rife with tongue-in-cheek references to suicide (and homosexuality and terrorism).

For example, "Drinking the Kool-Aid"--a reference to the mass suicide at Jonestown--has become popular shorthand among politicians, reporters and celebrities for "unthinking obedience," as in CNN reporter Suzanne Malveaux's Dec. 8 attack on George Bush's Iraq policy: "President Bush didn't just drink the Kool-Aid--he made it."

Now this country is drinking a different kind of Kool-Aid--a humorless, bland, repressive brew concocted by blowhards that can't take a joke. But I'm abstaining. I'll gladly suffer a few offensive ads to have others that are entertaining. The alternative is grim: an endless sea of flavorless, mediocre nonentities that will most assuredly drown TV as an ad medium.