It is good that we live in a society full of idiots... I mean, who would the rest of us make fun of if we didn't?

One of the benefits of being surrounded by vacuous individuals is the compensations that the world makes for them. On Christmas, when my little brother opened his [insert name of trendy video game system here], we noticed this picture on the packaging:

Apparently, it no longer suffices to say "Keep bag away from small children." No, we have to have a picture of a toddler suffocating to get the message across.

This only goes to reinforce the theory that there needs to be some kind of test or certification before people are allowed to procreate. If you need pictograms to tell you that it is unsafe for a child to place a plastic bag over his head, then you may not reproduce.

Here's another example:

I guess "Please keep children off chairs" wasn't sufficient. We needed a visual representation of a child incurring a head trauma to understand.

Here's one for adults:

Interpretation: Don't touch, dumbass!
And, finally, for the people who can't grasp the concept of cleaning up after their pets:

Nice, huh? Perhaps a bit graphic for me. I mean, the only thing missing is the steam rising up from the big pile of dog dung. The only time I've seen a sign like this was when I was up in Quebec. I think maybe it is a Canadian thing...?


Tug said...

Really doesn't say much for the literacy in our country, does it. That dog one is disgusting - LOL. Looks like the dog's doing a balancing act.

Dave Morris said...

The people that manufacture those things probably can't speak english, so they have to warn us THEIR way.

Charming picture of the mangled fingers.

Ari said...

I agree with Dave, kind of, except I think it's the consumers AND the producers that don't speak English, and fear of litigation is the universal language.

Also, I find that dog sign highly realistic. Maybe I should post one inside my house on cold days. Think the dogs could understand? :)

Mr. Fabulous said...

I like to sneak into pre-schools and distribute plastic bags to all the kids.

Lightning Bug's Butt said...

That last pic is damn funny. But yeah, it indicates the presence of idiots.

blakbyrd797 said...

Dude, the mangled hand is hilarious! Check out the middle finger. That one's no good for nothin' anymore.

I agree, though; it's truly scary. And I was previously just as distraught by the fact that they bother to spell out warnings such as "do not ingest" on packets of silica beads, imagining that surely someone must've tried it at least once to justify such a label. For the sake of humanity, I hope they can print a picture of someone puking their guts out after eating a pack of those small enough to fit it on there, or apparently, we're screwed.

Maybe that's the test. You know, THE TEST. Get everyone to rely on little pictograms to tell them what's what, then make some kind of poison cereal that warns "Do not consume" in plain un-illustrated English. The folks that die are the stupid ones.

Jen, Fred, Jennifer or Mom said...

I have to agree that the mangled hand is hilarious. And the chair one, LOVE that!!!! Chairs are not for small children, just sit them on the floor and let them eat the scraps that fall......hahaha

Yeah, him. said...

Have you watched Idiocracy yet (the new Mike Judge - Office SPace, Beavis and Butthead, King of the Hill movie)? It's hilarious. you need to watch it.


Have a great long weekend.

Mom of Three said...

Okay. I have a confession.

When I was 23, my hair was to my waist. I was also single and had a 1983 Honda Accord that I just thought was the bee's knees because it had electric everything AND cruise. So I would keep it spotless. I even cleaned the air vents with Q-tips to keep the dust out.

So, one day I went out before work to vacuum it (though I am sure it was cleaner than my minivan now on the best of days), with my hair in a ponytail and my trusty Dirt Devil handheld in hand. I began vacuuming the driver's seat when my ponytail flipped forward and was sucked up by the Dirt Devil. Since it was hopping around on my head, beating the crap out of me, I couldn't get to that teeny little off switch, and when I tried to pull it out of the wall plug, the cord had gotten under the back tires because the plug was on the other side of the car.

By the time I finally ran over there and pulled out the plug, the thing had started to smoke. As I unrolled my charred ponytail from the beater bar, I figured that if I could write a letter to Royal, I might get myself a replacement in exchange for what most assuredly became a fixture on the break room wall. They did send a new one, with a sticker that has been on them ever since: "Keep hair away from beater bar."

Yep. I'm THAT idiot.