I’ve decided that I like being lied to.
Unreliable narrators, carefully-withheld information, startling parlor scene revelations — I like books that won’t let me take the text for granted. I want to be lied to.
So imagine my joy when billboards promising very strange results from a new drug — Reachemol — began popping up in my hometown. “Big things happen when I take Reachemol!” proclaims one, featuring a very, very happy-looking man. “Since Reachemol I’ve had more girlfriends than a pro golfer” announces another.
“Wow,” says O Best Beloved to me, “that is one well-marketed Viagra knock-off. I assume it’s a Viagra knock-off? It’s got to be a penis pill of some kind.” (Yes, she said “penis pill.”)
So after a few weeks of seeing these very distinctive billboards around town I finally broke down and Googled “reachemol.”
I figured at the very least I could score some cheap penis pills. You never know when you’re going to need them, right? But to my delight, it turned out that Reachemol had lied to me. Their website is here, and you can go see what it’s all about yourself if you like; otherwise I’m going to ruin the joke in a couple of lines.
Here I go:
Reachemol is an ad campaign for billboard advertisements. The website claims to have a drug that cures “Deficient Personality Disorder (DPD),” by making you generally sexier and more popular. Then when you click on any of the links you get an error message.
Now, I don’t really have any need for billboard advertising right now, but if I were in the market I’d say these guys have proven their worth. I will give them a call if I ever do need weird ads that people talk about and eventually wind up Googling out of sheer curiosity.
The art of misdirection isn’t dead yet. Has a writer or an advertiser lied to you recently? Did you secretly kind of like it? Tell all…