Wrong Again, Atheists

Flat-Topped Mountain

THE IMAGE: A curious flat-topped rock formation photographed from a precise angle that still doesn't make it look like Noah's Ark.

THE BAIT: Comforting confirmation of the Old Testament's horrific story about a capricious, genocidal supreme being who impulsively decides to kill every living thing on Earth except for a menagerie of terrified creatures packed into a hastily constructed boat by a 600-year-old man and his incestuous family.

THE TARGET: Literalist Christians who think the Bible's unfailing accuracy should be accepted as a matter of faith yet desperately search for some shred of corroborating evidence, proud hicks who despise self-important know-it-all scientists until they validate their preexisting beliefs, people who see Jesus in a taco but still eat the taco, fundamentalist drone operators, Google Earth addicts, morally upright web surfers who are relieved it isn't a giant penis but can't get that image out of their heads.

THE STUPID: So, Noah's Ark was made out of solid rock? And like a thousand times bigger than the dimensions given in the Bible? And ended up stuck on top of a low ridge that would've been completely submerged if floodwaters rose up to the highest elevations on the planet? There's a decent-sized city nestled at the base of the ridge, so I guess the ark has been hiding in plain sight. Funny, though, that no one noticed it before now.

And I'm 2021% Sure You're an Idiot

Man Holding Tumbler

THE IMAGE: A gleeful 50-year-old nitwit who looks like he could be neutralized with a paperclip proudly showing off a patriotic drinking cup that sends a powerful message of defiant cluelessness to any British Redcoats or liberal Democrats who might try to invade his Wisconsin lake house and seize the AR-15 he uses to shoot carp from the end of his dock when he's too drunk to untie his fishing boat, as is his constitutional right.

THE BAIT: The same lousy tumbler given away during corporate promotional events and excruciating "team-building" seminars, with the usual company name or logo replaced by a helpful notice that the person holding it is a dangerous nut.

THE TARGET: Gun owners who love their country so much that they dream of a day when they will be called upon to violently overthrow its democratically elected government, people who don't own guns but want to discourage strangers from striking up conversations with them at the public library, recently fired white male factory or warehouse employees who later will be described by surviving co-workers as "disgruntled," people who comment "Let's go Brandon!" seconds after literally anything is posted on CNN's Facebook page, women who somehow exhibit toxic masculinity, Lauren Boebert.

THE STUPID: In order for any product to take a nation of 330 million people "by storm," you'd think that more than maybe a few hundred undiscerning backwoods yahoos would have to purchase it, which, in this case, seems very unlikely. You'd also think that coffee-loving Rambos wouldn't be particularly enticed to whip out their overdrawn debit cards by a grinning imbecile who by all appearances shouldn't be allowed near the stove, let alone be expected to take up arms in defense of freedom. Now, slap that witty warning on a hot blonde's tight-fitting t-shirt, and you'd be in business. It's all about knowing your customers.

This Will Start a Lot of Bar Fights

Scene From Peter Pan

THE IMAGE: Shameless hussy Wendy Darling attempting to kiss androgynous adventurer Peter Pan before jealous fairy-bitch Tinker Bell deliberately fucks it up.

THE BAIT: Swoon-inducing screen grabs from animated children's movies showing a simulated unsensual kiss between two fictional human, semi-human, or non-human artistic renderings owned by a multinational mass media corporation.

THE TARGET: Teary-eyed white suburban mothers who longingly watch Disney movies over and over again with their zombified kids as an escape from their romantically disappointing lives, middle-aged women who collect Hummel figurines, BuzzFeed fluff stuffers looking for more mindless pap to amuse the baying idiots who visit their website, the entire viewing audience for the Hallmark Channel.

THE STUPID: Honestly, how do you "rank" a kiss that not only haven't you experienced yourself, but which doesn't even involve biological life forms? How does one's heart race over assemblages of digital pixels that are programmed to change color in particular patterns so that from a distance they create a recognizable image in the human brain? How dreary and vacant must an adult person's life be if they are sufficiently knowledgeable about and emotionally invested in Disney movies to have strong opinions regarding which characters' "kisses" are the best while the world crumbles around them? Increasingly detached from reality, defiantly languishing in perpetual adolescence, we are becoming a nation of Peter Pans.

Life in Lockdown

Repurposed Jar of Vaseline

THE IMAGE: An open plastic jar of Vaseline brand vaseline with a damaged rim containing several disconcertingly bent implements stuck upright in its reservoir of soothing but sinful petroleum jelly.

THE BAIT: Some weird shit people do with Vaseline.

THE TARGET: That strange guy on the subway whose decade-old Planet Hollywood Orlando t-shirt is tucked into his underwear, oil industry executives looking for ways to maintain profit margins as the world transitions from fossil fuels, committed beauty pageant contestants, bored cretins, Andy Dick.

THE STUPID: Okay, so, other than the jar of Vaseline, I don't really know what I'm looking at here, which of course is the point. But I love the sponsor's chatty, suggestive headline, using the pronoun "we" to make it sound like there's a group of human beings behind this presentation who are genuinely surprised by novel Vaseline uses they just heard about, instead of a faceless bottom-feeding marketing company leveraging the curiosity of imbeciles. And why is the Vaseline jar displayed on a pile of logs? Are you supposed to light it? Actually, despite the obvious insanity of setting a petroleum product on fire, that seems preferable to some other alternatives that come to mind.