 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| Letters From London |
| Humorous Views on London Culture, Royals, Gossip and Politics |
"I Love Making Tylenol" - 15 January 2008
I went to New York for Christmas and got sick. Having not been there for seven years, I wasn’t
sufficiently acclimated to American TV to resist the unrelenting barrage of endemic health
problems: inevitable sleep disorders, constipation and diarrhoea, bloating, breathing difficulties,
diabetes, allergies, colds and flu, depression and/or anxiety, arthritis, hair loss, heart disease,
high blood pressure, kidney/liver/thyroid dysfunctions, incontinence, indigestion, epilepsy,
emphysema, osteoporosis, nail fungus, muscle pain, memory loss and I have forgotten the rest.
It’s a daily dose of five minutes of tedious television broken with four minutes of pharmaceutical
commercials. If you didn’t suffer with haemorrhoids before, you would after. Ouch. Without
paying very close attention, all you are aware of is the inevitable deterioration of your health.
Help. I want to chain smoke, drink whisky and die of natural causes to prove them wrong.
Serendipitously, I was driven passed the massive pharmaceutical company Merck that seem to
go on for days. It must cover an entire state.
By law the endless drone of the cheerful drug ads are required to reveal the side effects. This is
done with a carefree air of insouciance. Sleep problems, constipation and diarrhoea, bloating,
breathing difficulties, diabetes, allergies, colds and flu, depression and/or anxiety, arthritis, hair
loss, heart disease, high blood pressure, kidney/liver/thyroid dysfunctions, incontinence,
indigestion, epilepsy, emphysema, osteoporosis, nail fungus, muscle pain, memory loss… coma
or death. Cease and desist. Coma? Death? Why yes. A bland, boring ad featuring two bright
and breezy female friends discussing their common drug of choice. Little do they know that in a
few moments, they could both crumple over, knees weakened, sprawled out on the street in
drug induced comas and die before help arrived. DOA. Or so the reassuring male voice–over
calmly stated. All because these two friends wanted to lessen their shared restless leg
syndrome or was it adult acne. Innocuous whatever it was.
Normally, statistics of death-by-pharmaceuticals are hidden in the bottom left lost pages of mid-
week newspapers. Suicide is often cited rather than an unnatural death by a chemical that is
touted as a cure-all for all the physical symptoms that you don’t have.
One unforgettable commercial consists of ‘normal’ Americans smiling at you one by one from
ubiquitous enormous flat screen TVs and declaring their love for you and all of humanity: “I love
making Tylenol for youuuu.” Each happy, healthy worker convinces the viewer that they are doing
the ultimate in altruism. “I love making Tylenol for youuuu.” Making youuuu healthy by altering
your brain chemistry.
Ah ha. Here-in lies the secret. Sophisticated brain-washing of the masses. Drowning in pills
rather than the standard US water torture policy. So much more insidious.
Perhaps it is in the water. Every single person I came in contact with in the service industry - be
it in a restaurant, over-priced coffee shop, discount drug store, cool art supply store, Macy’s -
was surprisingly harsh and uncooperative. “Look over there” sort of dismissive service… more
like a bark. “Over THERE!” Not living in the land of the dumb and dumber, to be honest I was
shocked. Gwyneth Paltrow stay in New York. Please. This of course referring to “the inferior
service of British shops”. I am dangerously close to questioning my sanity here. Could it be jet
lag?
Another curious occurrence seemed to take place when I stood in one spot for more than 10
seconds. The person behind me would inevitably start talking to (at) me without any introduction
as if they actually knew me, as if I were a dear friend, as if I were an intimate member of their
family. I remained nameless, country-less, personality-less, yet I know all about their health,
families, histories, where they are going and coming from and what they plan to do in the near
future. You could think that sounds quite normal, even ordinary. Well, perhaps not.
It’s the relentless details that make me question why I now know how their sister-in-law makes
coffee, that they once moved about with some sort of oxygen device, that their father had an
Arkansas accent in Ohio, what they ate last night, their favourite crisp brand... I could go on and
on… as they did.
Naturally I got all caught up in their monologues. I listened intently. I imagined them popping their
pill of choice, turning on the ads waiting for them on morning TV, preparing for a day shared with
other monologists. When the voices stopped, I was left with enough inane information to fill a
week’s worth of a page of a daily journal. Pen-less, I panicked that it had all been put to
memory. Argh.
Then I remembered. This is America. This is in fact, normal. The pride in being familiar, forward,
over-friendly. It’s the American way. It’s almost patriotic.
I’m getting better; I’m not taking Tylenol. La la la la la la.
I went to New York for Christmas and got sick. Having not been there for seven years, I wasn’t
sufficiently acclimated to American TV to resist the unrelenting barrage of endemic health
problems: inevitable sleep disorders, constipation and diarrhoea, bloating, breathing difficulties,
diabetes, allergies, colds and flu, depression and/or anxiety, arthritis, hair loss, heart disease,
high blood pressure, kidney/liver/thyroid dysfunctions, incontinence, indigestion, epilepsy,
emphysema, osteoporosis, nail fungus, muscle pain, memory loss and I have forgotten the rest.
It’s a daily dose of five minutes of tedious television broken with four minutes of pharmaceutical
commercials. If you didn’t suffer with haemorrhoids before, you would after. Ouch. Without
paying very close attention, all you are aware of is the inevitable deterioration of your health.
Help. I want to chain smoke, drink whisky and die of natural causes to prove them wrong.
Serendipitously, I was driven passed the massive pharmaceutical company Merck that seem to
go on for days. It must cover an entire state.
By law the endless drone of the cheerful drug ads are required to reveal the side effects. This is
done with a carefree air of insouciance. Sleep problems, constipation and diarrhoea, bloating,
breathing difficulties, diabetes, allergies, colds and flu, depression and/or anxiety, arthritis, hair
loss, heart disease, high blood pressure, kidney/liver/thyroid dysfunctions, incontinence,
indigestion, epilepsy, emphysema, osteoporosis, nail fungus, muscle pain, memory loss… coma
or death. Cease and desist. Coma? Death? Why yes. A bland, boring ad featuring two bright
and breezy female friends discussing their common drug of choice. Little do they know that in a
few moments, they could both crumple over, knees weakened, sprawled out on the street in
drug induced comas and die before help arrived. DOA. Or so the reassuring male voice–over
calmly stated. All because these two friends wanted to lessen their shared restless leg
syndrome or was it adult acne. Innocuous whatever it was.
Normally, statistics of death-by-pharmaceuticals are hidden in the bottom left lost pages of mid-
week newspapers. Suicide is often cited rather than an unnatural death by a chemical that is
touted as a cure-all for all the physical symptoms that you don’t have.
One unforgettable commercial consists of ‘normal’ Americans smiling at you one by one from
ubiquitous enormous flat screen TVs and declaring their love for you and all of humanity: “I love
making Tylenol for youuuu.” Each happy, healthy worker convinces the viewer that they are doing
the ultimate in altruism. “I love making Tylenol for youuuu.” Making youuuu healthy by altering
your brain chemistry.
Ah ha. Here-in lies the secret. Sophisticated brain-washing of the masses. Drowning in pills
rather than the standard US water torture policy. So much more insidious.
Perhaps it is in the water. Every single person I came in contact with in the service industry - be
it in a restaurant, over-priced coffee shop, discount drug store, cool art supply store, Macy’s -
was surprisingly harsh and uncooperative. “Look over there” sort of dismissive service… more
like a bark. “Over THERE!” Not living in the land of the dumb and dumber, to be honest I was
shocked. Gwyneth Paltrow stay in New York. Please. This of course referring to “the inferior
service of British shops”. I am dangerously close to questioning my sanity here. Could it be jet
lag?
Another curious occurrence seemed to take place when I stood in one spot for more than 10
seconds. The person behind me would inevitably start talking to (at) me without any introduction
as if they actually knew me, as if I were a dear friend, as if I were an intimate member of their
family. I remained nameless, country-less, personality-less, yet I know all about their health,
families, histories, where they are going and coming from and what they plan to do in the near
future. You could think that sounds quite normal, even ordinary. Well, perhaps not.
It’s the relentless details that make me question why I now know how their sister-in-law makes
coffee, that they once moved about with some sort of oxygen device, that their father had an
Arkansas accent in Ohio, what they ate last night, their favourite crisp brand... I could go on and
on… as they did.
Naturally I got all caught up in their monologues. I listened intently. I imagined them popping their
pill of choice, turning on the ads waiting for them on morning TV, preparing for a day shared with
other monologists. When the voices stopped, I was left with enough inane information to fill a
week’s worth of a page of a daily journal. Pen-less, I panicked that it had all been put to
memory. Argh.
Then I remembered. This is America. This is in fact, normal. The pride in being familiar, forward,
over-friendly. It’s the American way. It’s almost patriotic.
I’m getting better; I’m not taking Tylenol. La la la la la la.
