Things We Hope We Don't Need

One of the things you learn quickly as you surf the web is that everyone wants to sell you something. Our e-mail is choked with spam advertising cut-rate Viagra and other drugs, and each website and blog you visit seems to be festooned with ads for all sorts of things to buy, try, do, or experience.

What's interesting is that many of these ads are "scientifically" targeted to the perceived interests of the people who are visiting specific sites or reading specific articles. You'd be amazed what people will try to sell you.

Like the Everybody Coffin (TM).

I was reading an online article on disaster preparedness yesterday, and the article included the usual array of ads and links to related products, one of which was for the Everybody Coffin, available in two sizes (large and small) for only $195 from DQE, a company which offers "...practical products and services for emergency preparedness and response." The Everybody Coffin features "...patented, all natural wood design, allow(ing) for flat storage, assembly without tools and efficient stacking."

Whoa!

Ever since the tragic events of 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina, I've thought a good deal about what to do in case of an emergency...especially since I live in the Washington, DC, area, which is high on the list of potential targets for angry, yet merciful and compassionate morons. I try to have a supply of bottled water and canned goods on hand, and to always have a plan for where to go and how to get there in case of a serious natural or man-made disaster. But I just have to plan for Agnes and I...there are professionals who have to plan for disasters which affect tens of thousands or millions of souls. They're the people who have to worry about things like collapsible coffins.

On the whole, I'd rather live in a time when the targeted advertisements were for mundane things like lawn care, big-screen TVs, Viagra, and the latest movie. It's sad to think that we need ads for companies that manufacture things like collapsible coffins, body bags, and other supplies for dealing with "mass casualty events." I wish my biggest worries were whether or not I can master particular dance steps or open the zip file containing the Mistress of the Dark's latest music mix. Unfortunately, we can't pick our times and places, and we have to play the hand we've been dealt.

Life's like that.

So anyhow, be advised that the Everybody Coffin is not on my Christmas wish list. Peace on earth and goodwill toward men are.

But I guess I'm not likely to get that, either.

Too bad.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo