Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Freudian Spam

I am fascinated by the intricacies of personalized advertisements on the web. Apparently some software genius developed these programs that track what we web surfers view. As we blissfully troll through the internet, little software spies run around gathering data about what it is we find interesting and begin to cater to our preferences. Within moments, advertisements are pushed out to us that some program somewhere believes we will find appealing. Looking up new recipes for chocolate chip cookies? Ads for Hersey Chocolate Chips are likely to appear. Doing a little research on Caribbean cruises? You may find yourself reading an ad extolling the virtues of bermuda shorts. Wading through the net for information about remodeling your home? Don’t be surprised if ads for granite countertops start popping up on your screen.

This sort of personalized-interest-analysis isn’t all bad. For example, Amazon tracks the genres of books I tend to purchase and alerts me to new titles that I may enjoy. TiVo tracks the genre of television I tend to watch and suggests shows that cater to people like me. Sure, it’s a little Fahrenheit 451/1984-ish, but some of these suggestions have been helpful.

However, I think there is an attribute of these personalized-interest-profiles that is as yet unrealized: the self-analysis feature. I propose that you can save THOUSANDS in therapy trying to figure out what it is that makes you tick if you simply look at the advertisements headed your way. Thus, if you ever want to take a litmus test of the type of person you are becoming, just take a look at the ads the internet is pushing out at you.

Currently, my ads feature Bare Minerals, Prada, and Rejuvex. I also see quite a few plugs for baby gear and parenting advice. (Apparently something about me has led the internet to believe I deeply need assistance from other parents and that my children are in need of counseling. Well...DUH.). Okay, all those make sense. I guess.

However, I became particularly disturbed when my brother called me to chat while he was taking a look at my latest blog entry. While we were both looking at the same site, the ad I saw on the side of my blog was for pacifiers, while the ad my brother saw was for…(wait for it)…faux leopard print covers for non-lethal electronic stun guns.

Yes, you read that right.

So, what exactly is it about my brother that makes the internet think he may benefit from a tazer cozy? And a leopard print one at that? I know you’re thinking what I’m thinking: Is this something I should tell mom about??

My freak meter spiked for a moment, but then I calmed down once I remembered that I have been receiving spam for penile enlargements ever since I attempted to win the HGTV Dream House in 2006. (Hey, you can’t win if you don’t play. That house had to go to SOMEBODY.) That spam is either spot on (because if I DO have a penis, it very, very much needs enhancing), or there are clearly a few bugs in the personalized-interest-spy-programs.

I’m willing to chalk up my brother’s leopard print stun gun ensemble to a random program glitch. For now. But if he does anything to annoy me, you know I’ll whip out the faux animal hide riot gear and go medieval on him.

You may just want to take a look at your own ads and do a little good natured self analysis. What do your ads say about you?



10 comments:

Sue G said...

Hey, if we take your penile implants and connect them with my Viagra offers, we could make an interesting team.

Let's see...I have inherited a TON of money from some people in England, Ghana, and Botswani...but those are emails and not ads.

Most of the ads i receive are for discount drugs. Why? Yes, I take a lot of drugs. How else can I get through the day??? But I absolutely demand to pay full price for them. Why, I am the only person I know who went to Mexico and paid full price for everything. Discount drugs...really. What an insult.

I do love it when fat lady Ralph Lauren clothes go on sale, though. I'm a sucker for that little polo player with the mallet.

Cheryl Houston said...

I think there must be a problem with my computer spies because my ad on your blog shows a pacifier ad, too. I have no use for pacifiers anymore. The Pacifier Fairy came to our house and took them all away years ago.

I do get those Viagra and penis enhancement emails though. Yes, I need those for all the great "hookups" I'm experiencing. Puh-lease. What? Now the internet is rubbing it in that I'm not getting any?!!?

katina said...

lets see...mine, in order are:
Pacifiers
Prada shoes
Personalized Pacifiers
Beware of At Home Jobs
and finally
Meet Austin Moms!

Of course, this is so great since I DON"T HAVE KIDS or enough money for Pradas.

Anonymous said...

Ok Trish, in case you blog without checking email, check your email.

S.K.

Trish said...

(Okay, now I'm actualy INTERESTED in the faux leopard electronic non-lethal stun gun holders. I mean, these might make excellent stocking stuffers for next Christmas.)

Sue G.-- By a strange coincidence, I just won England's Internet Lottery this morning! All I need to do is provide my bank account and social security numbers so they can deposit my winnings. I thought of you.

Okay, if we are ALL getting the Viagra and penile enhancer ads, then do men get the menopause information? Maybe we get this information on purpose? I mean, maybe we are supposed to tell our husband's to go take Viagra and get the penile enhancements??

Sue G said...

Okay, Trish, it's probably just my age speaking, but the very LAST THING ON THIS EARTH that I want is for my husband to have either a penile implant or to take Viagra!!!!!

I'd much prefer he just clean up the kitchen on Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now THAT I could get excited about.

Oooooh, I think I just discovered my G-spot. Who knew it was at the kitchen sink?

Trish said...

Oh boy. My G-spot is in the laundry room.

Cheryl Houston said...

Desperately Seeking Trish! It's been a week and I miss your posts! Hope all is well.

Unknown said...

Salvaged motorcycles.
Exhaust ringtones??? What about the carbon monoxide?
Ernie's Harley-Davidson.

Jamie said...

Where'd you go, sugar???