You've probably seen the So Shocking ads for various Volkswagen vehicles where a driver and passenger(s) are happily motoring along, chatting about nothing in particular, when suddenly they get involved in a bit of smashy-smashy with another car. Then you see the VW's occupants standing outside and staring at their damaged car, and though they're stunned and traumatized, they're physically fine due to fine German safety engineering. Adrants points out one of the stranger versions of this spot; three hapless suburbanites complain about excessive erection time before their collision. But the above episode makes a meta slamdunk by having a couple of ladies unfavorably discussing the other Volkswagen ads before getting hit themselves. The lesson: One shouldn't mock commercials, lest one become part of a commercial. Therefore, best not to discuss the commercial above, ever, especially not while driving. Just forget you ever saw it.

The "Smoker's Style" ad campaign from Nipponese cig purveyor Japan Tobacco ("Delight World") has been going on for quite awhile now, and it's simultaneously direct, wistful, and honest about the ugly manners of smokers. The little stick-figure illustrations are concerned with smoking etiquette, expressed in parables, aphorisms, or other sage truisms. Since we can't smoke in bars or restaurants in New York anymore, the one-third of Gawker's editors who no longer indulges in coffin nails can afford to be nostalgic about smoker culture; it's easier to reminisce fondly about all the little rituals and cruelties of smoking when actual, current smokers are forced to lurk outside in the elements with the hoboes and interns. This figure about smokers liking their own smoke (versus that of others) is a particular favorite, though there are several that could quite easily translate to your favorite Cafe Press product.

In addition to flogging the tired spookiness of the whole six degrees of separation meme, ABC's upcoming Six Degrees show has dared to mount not just any viral campaign, but a viral campaign where hirelings accost random citizens while masquerading as characters from the show:

• This three minute, well-disguised "commercial" for Remington might be the most ridiculous display of pubic hair humor we've seen since the 8th grade. [Kontraband via Adrants]
• So everyone loves Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. But there's one real problem: how can you have a show about a show and not have a single Jew on the fictitious writing staff? [Peter Hyman]
• If someone says they have more than enough time to read every word of every issue of the New Yorker, they're lying and should be smacked. For the realists, try a condensed version of articles presented in haiku. [Drunken Volcano]
• Nearly 10% of New York men who say they are "straight" are dipping in the secret shame of assfucking. Of that number, almost 70% are married and 100% are in complete denial. [NYDN]
• It would seem that Anna Nicole Smith's son Daniel died of a fatal drug combination, likely involving prescription drugs. Or not. The crew down in the Bahamas is too busy fighting with the press to take a good look at the body. [TMZ]
• The assistant to the EIC of Architectual Digest starts a video blog, in which she'll tell us how to find good design despite, like her, being 25, on a budget, and living in a shoebox. Solution number one: buy a $6000 storage unit. Sigh. And to think, this poor girl probably isn't getting paid one penny extra for the humiliation. [AD]
• American Apparel sets up camp in the epicenter of retro sexiness and legwarmers, the...Flatiron District. [The Real Estate]
• Are you Middle Eastern or Asian? Do you like movies? Then you're in luck, because the CIA wants to indoctrinate you. [Salon]
• Tara Reid decides to have her breast implants removed, and Time Warner decides to have her latest "film" go direct to download. Hardly a coincidence. Without the boobs, she's just a human boda bag. [Defamer]

Brazilian beermakers Nova Schin had a conundrum on their hands: How to build buzz for their non-alcoholic flavor? Unfortunately, there's nothing more pathetic and soul-destroying than drinking alcohol-free beer ... perhaps one could mine that pathos for an evocative ad campaign. But if not, you can just return to familiar beervertising hot-chick territory, with a Photoshop twist targeting a niche that supposedly might actually want your product. Full images after the jump. Technically SFW, but proceed with psychic caution.

"It's about the journalism. Period. End of story." That's the motto for the New York Times' bold new branding vision, along with a revivification of 1980s slogan "These times demand the Times." Both replace the more grandiose "Expect the world," which really is too much to expect from just a little ol' newspaper. Vanity Fair's Michael Wolff may have been hating on the NYT a little harshly of late, but we have to share his confusion as to why the NYT would need a branding campaign, since the brand (as opposed to say, the journalism) is pretty unassailable in the sphere of daily newspapers. Anyway, if you feel the need to get reacquainted with the brand, enjoy the ad campaign's very own website (including a reverse-time TV spot that features a woman regurgitating part of an apple). NYT crossword master Will Shortz even gets his own little site-segment, where he regrettably does not say "It's about the sudoku. Period. End of story."

All right, we promise this will be the last installment of our recent obsession with vintage advertising. Still, this one (our subtle favorite from a larger gallery) is worth a look both for its pharmaceutical shilling and its ends-based directive concerning the inconveniently elderly. The ad predates senior-targeted drugvertisements focused on walking by the seashore, dandling babies in laps, or performing creaky tai chi in a park somewhere. Grandpa acting up? Pump him full of Thorazine, and enjoy the drooling silence! We think Gramps is just understandably "agitated and belligerent" about that giant fat tie. Full ad after the jump.

Not sure what's gotten into international booze purveyors out there, but Absolut vodka joins Johnnie Walker scotch in the Lebanese postwar regeneration frenzy with its own series of recovery-themed ads. In addition to these eager tourists arriving in liquor-bottle form, you also have an Absolut-shaped dollop of cement on a rebuilt cinderblock wall. Sure are lots of thirsty Caucasians in this tourist crowd! And we can only assume that rebuilt wall is part of a bar, as opposed to say, a hospital. To their credit though, Absolut has rebuilt more walls in Lebanon than the United Nations. At least conceptually.

We're firmly in the territory of admitted nostalgia monkey James Lileks here, but midcentury illustration archive Plan 59 has a small but disturbing gallery of demonic advertising children. We recognize that existential horror might have trouble bridging the generation gap, but really, who could have looked at this spaghetti-eating Antichrist and not shuddered with fear? How could this ginger hobgoblin move the viewer to purchase anything other than transit to the nearest church or other holy ground to wait out the upcoming tribulation times? Note that he's also munching on breadsticks, or wieners. Or souls.

To promote the paperback release of his book The Areas of My Expertise, professional gadabout and omniversal adept John Hodgman mined some very obscure adverto-literary history. Hodgman's new print shill at right is an "homage" to an ancient ad for the long-extinct Intellivision video game console that inexplicably featured an endorsement from Paris Review editor George Plimpton. Larger versions after the jump.

Since a weekend houseguest made us feel guilty and shallow by brandishing a copy of Simon Callow's Hello Americans — the recently released second volume in Callow's three-tome bio-epic of Orson Welles — we can only respond by unearthing and replaying the above. It's a long-debauched Orson Welles drunkenly slurring his way through a few takes on the Paul Masson wine commercials from the 1970s. Though he does slur and his intonation is bizarre (particularly the initial "Mwwwaaaaaah" gasp of surprise and delight), Welles still gets his lines right, at least. Guy was a pro to the end.

So, unless you lack caller ID or you are a candidate's family member, you're probably unaware that tomorrow is primary day here in New York. Ben Smith of the News takes note of a mail-out from Noach Dear, the former City Councilman so beloved by his colleagues. In an attempt to make sure that black folks in his district don't remember who he is when they vote for State Senate, Dear's promotional material changes his name to the slightly-less-Jewish sounding "Noah."

Copyranter's Mark Duffy notes the sheer idiocy of the second wave of ads for the World Trade Center Memorial. We're not sure what this says about us, but the first thing we thought when seeing this was, Wow, why would you need to advertise gay sex? It sells itself!

Continuing the mad advertiser-rat scramble off the burning atoll that is Survivor: Race War (note: that's just our funny pretend title for the show that separates contestants by ethnicity), disappearing sponsors General Motors, Home Depot, Coca Cola, and Campbell's Soup are joined in departure by Procter & Gamble (whose Febreeze air freshener was the second-largest ad buyer at the end of Survivor's last season, after GM) and balm/salve purveyor Johnson & Johnson. Of course, despite any distaste that execs might have for the new Survivor gimmick, these decisions were all made long ago, had nothing to do with the race thing, and so on. However, cellphone company Sprint has no problem with the new routine, as they bought up a few spots to air during the holidays. This year, give the gift of wirelessly communicated racial dominance.

Not to be outdone by Diddy, Gawker mascot Andrew Krucoff takes a camera into the bathroom to note the new viral (ha ha, get it?) ad for Jackass 2. The footage is kind of grainy, but the video stream is strong. (It's hard to stop, sorry.) We just want to know if Krucoff was filming with one hand and holding his dick with the other. Because we never figured him to be that coordinated.

Last week, the New York Times' business section tut-tutted at Forbes.com's selling itself to advertisers with best-possible audited site traffic (15.3 million visitors in February) when that figure has been slightly revised down by the auditor, not to mention much less impressive recent numbers (7.3 million visitors in July). Forbes.com exec James Spanfeller claimed the poor July showing conflicted with their much more cheerful internal log numbers, and could thus be discounted. High card always wins! The NYT also grumbled about the percentage of Forbes.com visitors actually going to the latter's car-sales site, not to mention traffic-whoring like the "career women" debacle, "American's Drunkest Cities," etc., rather than content ostensibly of interest to the business reader (or advertiser). Ignoring all that, Spanfeller complained that NYTimes.com prefers its own optimistic internal traffic numbers, so Forbes.com is hardly alone in that respect — something the competing NYT biz section should have noted for transparency's sake. NYT business editor Lawrence Ingrassia admitted that Spanfeller was right, but added that the point didn't "warrant a correction." Just because you're correct doesn't mean you get a correction, see.

• Ellen DeGeneres is in a car crash (not caused by paparazzi, for once), making for excellent online advertising opportunities. [TMZ]
• Lloyd Grove survives Labor Day, reports that Jessica Simpson is even more of a whore than previously believed. The melanin princess collected assloads of swag and a $50K Chrysler convertible — though the latter will be donated to charity, as homegirl doesn't drive domestic. [Lowdown]
• The New York Public Library and fashion don't mix. Specifically, literacy clashes with Anna Wintour's McQueen tartans. [Page Six]
• Showgirls scribe Joe Eszterhas goes out on a limb and calls Val Kilmer an "imbecile" and Michael Douglas "not brilliant." [R&M]
• Julia Roberts' BO would be a standout contribution to the world of celebrity perfumes. [Page Six]

The cast of TV's upcoming Survivor: Race War may be split along ethno-genetic lines, but they'll have to compete without recourse to domestic repair products, tasty broth, carbonated beverages, or fine American automobiles. In addition to General Motors dropping Survivor as the show's major sponsor, advertisers Home Depot, Coca-Cola, and Campbell's Soup have also pulled out. No one's spotlighting the 13th season's race theme explicitly, claiming they had always planned to move along to less confrontational pastures. Less overt racial demographic profiling will continue in more discreet product development, such as Campbell's "Chunky Fajita Steak" soup, which we understand is popular with the beaners.

Alcohol purveyors are rarely known for their sensitivity in terms of advertising, but the above Johnnie Walker billboard represents a "a new idiom in terms of how far you can go," according to one ad exec. The implacably perambulating Johnnie Walker mascot is shown crossing a broken bridge in a Beirut suburb, demonstrating that his thirst for Scotch will not be impaired even by the vicissitudes of war. And nor should yours, (non-Muslim) citizens of Lebanon! The ad exec went on to say that "the attention that the campaign had generated on the Internet proved its cost-effectiveness." Let's all join in the cost-effecting, and long live the new idiom.

While it's been rumored for some time, a deal between Nike and Jennifer Aniston appears to be on the verge of signature. The deal, sources say, may be the largest sum ever paid by the sportswear company for a celebrity endorsement.