The Not So Airtight Air Climber

So the quality isn’t that great, but at least we get the best of both worlds: you don’t have to click a link and we can still be as lazy as ever. It works out. You must have by now noticed that the above video is not the complete video, but we imagined that the complete one would not greatly add anything to this post. We seem to have enough material with the abridged version.

To start things off, we must ask: what exactly is a “Limited Lifetime Warrantee”? Does this mean that the lifetime (either of the machine or you [or both?]) is limited, and they can only warrant that limited life? We are not quite sure why they have a limited lifetime warrantee and why they would proudly announce that in their commercial.

It’s not just the legal mumbo-jumbo that gets us; the pun “airtight” (used only once in the above video) is poorly constructed as well. What exactly does it mean to have “airtight abs”? We suppose it means air cannot penetrate your abs, thereby sealing in the freshness of your intestines. The funny thing is, in order for your muscles to function, you would need air to circulate in them. That is essentially what blood does in your body… and they think they can just rattle off “airtight abs” and we would just nod our heads in agreement.

We also have a ridiculous acronym which the marketing department for the Air Climber has decided we should just accept without a word in protest: APT. What is Air Power Technology? This acronym is by far the worst we have encountered to date. First of all, “apt” is actually a word, so that could be confusing in certain circumstances. Second of all, they are trying to pass off centuries-old technology as something modern and up-to-date simply by hiding the words behind their initial letters. People have been using bellows to stoke fires since the advent of the chimney, and now they’re trying to tell us that the Air Climber is state-of-the-art equipment? We don’t buy it.

Really, though, it’s not just the inept APT and vague phraseology that are the heart of what is wrong with the Air Climber, although they are symptomatic of the poor marketing endemic to all ab machines: It is the demographic itself. If you look closely at the above video, there is an average ratio of four women to every man. Clearly they are feeding off the presumed fact that women are insecure about their bodies, and if they show enough women with lean stomachs (who probably didn’t use the Air Climber to get the bodies they have now), then they will sell more bicycle pumps to the unwitting public. This is not just a problem with the Air Climber, it is characteristic of all ab machine infomercials. They generally market to women by showing a predominant number of women in their advertisements, and, wherever possible, have women spokeswomen spouting out inanities in hopes of raking in profits on pieces of plastic filled with—in this case—hot air. (Of course, Sean T. and T. Little are exceptions here.) What makes this all the more horrendous is that the stupid puns, inaccurate acronyms, fake charts and graphs, and monotonous testimonials belie the fact that the creators of the Air Climber and other ab machines think women are generally stupid enough to fall for flimsy marketing gimmicks and preposterous lies. They assume that people will gloss over glaring inconsistencies and fine print because their desire for an unattainable, perfect body will conquer the modicum of rationality that they possess and goad them into purchasing these things they don’t need. To ensure their audience is thoughtless, they pad their commercials with how fun the machine is, how technological it is, how easy it is to use, and how certain the results are when none of those things can be proven to be any better than the multitude of free workouts one can do. Even the name of the machine itself is inaccurate: the Air Climber? You’re staying in place for crying out loud! Are we supposed to actually believe this tripe?

Phew! Sorry about that, O Reader. That was a rare impassioned moment you were privy to. Our point, however, still stands. This machine is stupid and you should not get it.

Not wanting to end on a depressing note, we do have to give the Air Climber kudos in one aspect of their commercial: their Digital Training Computer. They actually show their “computer” on screen (and, with the beauty of YouTube, you can pause and take a good look at it at 2:11) and you can see clearly that it is just a counter with a timer. The nice big red button that looks like it could have launched an entire nuclear arsenal in a '50s movie is a good touch. We are certain “MODE,” “RPMS,” and “SCAN” are just random letters they put together because they ordered too much white paint. Thanks, Air Climber.

Coasting Coast to Coast: the Ab Coaster

We do not know if we can attribute this to our blog’s existence, but it seems that, since we started the Abpocalypse, there has been a lack of official ab machine videos on YouTube. We are far too lazy and unskilled in technology to put any effort into downloading the videos from the various websites and re-posting them here for your convenience like some other blogs do, even though we are well aware that no one clicks on links. Here is the link to the Ab Coaster website anyway. C’est la vie.

Our first question is: how is the Ab Coaster any different from the Ab Flyer? We submit that, if there are any differences between the two machines, the differences are negligible, like the difference between Coca-Cola and Pepsi. Certainly the Ab Coaster looks more expensive because it has tracks, padding, and some extra pieces of metal (or plastic), but really the exercise and design are similar. The Ab Coaster is just as cradle-like in appearance as the Ab Flyer, and what was deemed a patented “Reverse Arc Motion” in one has been re-termed “Natural Arc Motion” in another (which, admittedly, has a nice a ring to it). Aside from nominal and aesthetic differences, these two machines are the same.


Our second question: which one came first? This question is important because then it would be easier to swallow the bald assertions the narrator spews from the outset of the video. Things like “The Ab Coaster is the revolutionary fitness product that is changing the way and the direction you’ll work your abs,” will be far more believable if there wasn’t a machine that works your abs in the same way and direction, wouldn’t it? The narrator also says, “Only the Ab Coaster has the revolutionary biometric design that lets you coast your way to incredible abs.” This sentence occurs right after the previous quoted sentence, so twice in a row do we get the word “revolutionary.” How could this machine be revolutionary when there is another machine—and only one other machine—out there like it? Plus, the Ab Coaster, as far as we know, isn’t changing the way all ab machines function. Sean T.’s dance work out still exists, and the Hawaii Chair is still rotating uncontrollably along. Unless the definition of the word “revolutionary” (and its cognates) has changed, we see nothing revolutionary about the Ab Coaster.

Speaking of definitions, we must mention something about the use of the word “biometric.” According to dictionary.com, “biometrics” is either the “statistical study of biological phenomena” or “[t]he measurement of physical characteristics, such as fingerprints, DNA, or retinal patterns, for use in verifying the identity of individuals.” With that definition (and please note that we excluded “biostatistics” and “biometry” from our definition as it just wouldn’t make any sense whatsoever that the design of the Ab Coaster could measure the duration of your life), we fail to see how the Ab Coaster’s design is biometric. The Ab Coaster—at least according to the video (which you cannot rewind or fast forward, which is incredibly annoying when you’re trying to comment on it)—cannot help you study biological phenomena (it does not tell you how you are sculpting your abs), nor can its design identify you as opposed to your spouse, children, or pet hamster. They clearly did not look up the word biometric before inserting it into the script, possibly thinking that the prefix “bio” followed by any suffix will be impressive enough to the average fat person. And, to their credit, it very well might be impressive to the laity, but that is why we’re here: to expose stupid, nonsensical marketing gimmicks for what they are.

Our third and final question is: why do ab machine makers think they can peddle their pieces of junk by telling everyone that working out on their machine is easy? The Ab Coaster likes to use the pun (and it is duly noted that they only used the pun twice in the video, following our rules) “coasting.” We will coast our way to great abs, promises the video. No need to floor the accelerator in getting a great body, just coast your way to health, happiness, and beauty (that first woman they interview says she feels “attractive” after using the Ab Coaster, but—in all honesty—that machine did nothing for her face) effortlessly. We are here to tell you that if you really want a great looking body, you’re going to have to work for it, whether you purchase the Ab Coaster or not. Unfortunately, sometimes doing all you can is not enough to get that perfect body. That doesn’t mean stop trying; it just means stop worrying. These, O Reader, are truths you must accept, or you will drain all of your time, energy, and money and still be unhappy (no matter which coast you live on).

If You Can Sit, You Can Get Fit: The Hawaii Chair

For this one, we almost don’t need to comment on anything. Isn’t it ridiculous enough as it is? Who in his right mind would want to purchase a chair that moves like an out-of-control Lazy Susan? This by far is lazier and worse than the Flex Belt and Contour! At least with those ab machines you could do other things while wearing them, but you can’t do anything at all on the Hawaii Chair!

The above video, while short, is filled to the brim with bad acting and unconvincing lines. To go through them all would be redundant and painful. For that reason we are not going to spend this post on that video but the video on the website. Trust us, you will want to take a look at the website.

Now the Hawaii Chair claims that it goes 2,800 revolutions per minute and either weighs or could handle 300 pounds—it isn’t clear from the wording. But why does it make that claim aside from the fact that it wants to wow viewers into purchasing this $300 contraption? What does it mean to go 2,800 RPMs? Could you do 2,800 hula-like motions in one minute? Would anyone want to do that and probably suffer an extreme form of whiplash? It’s also interesting that they call the motor for the chair a “Hula Motor,” as if the motor was specifically designed to do the hula and not just spin around.

Now there is a specific demographic targeted in the video on the website: old people. The narrator, who sounds as if he only learned to read English, states: “Old men can use the Hawaii Chair easily to help improve the operation of the digestive [and here he stutters and mispronounces the word “digestive”] and cardiovascular systems.” Of course, while the narrator is talking about old men, the video shows a bunch of old women using the Hawaii Chair. The wording sounds like a translation from another language. An American-based company will never be so direct as to use the word “old” when targeting old people.

Then we get some good old fashioned name-dropping. Dr. Fredericks, who decided that his M.D. or Ph.D. degree warranted the study of the laziest ab machine ever contrived, apparently ran some “scientific experiments” that produced amazing results. He discovered, using the latest scientific technology, mind you, that your heart rate goes up from 65 beats per minute to 136 beats per minute! How does the narrator describe a jump of 71 beats per minute? Like this: “Dr. Fredericks’ scientific experiments prove that before using the Hawaii Chair the average breathing rate is 65 times and after using the Hawaii Chair, for ten minutes only, the breathing rate increases by 136 times!” Notice how “per minute” is elided and how the preposition “by” makes it seem that we would have to multiply 65 by 136 to get the new Hawaii Chair heart rate. (By the way, if we did the math on that, we get 8,840 beats per minute [assuming, of course, they are going by minutes here]—that will kill you, not help your circulation.) Luckily they have an EKG machine from 1985 to help clarify the botched English of our poor narrator. And isn’t it common knowledge that 65 beats per minute is the standard resting heart rate? Why would our doctor need to do scientific experiments to figure that out? Ultimately, this is not proof that the stupid chair even works. An elevated heart rate can be an indication of strenuous exercise, but it also could be a sign of stress, fear, or excitement. If you had to constantly try to balance yourself for ten minutes, don’t you think your heart rate would go up? We’re sorry Dr. Fredericks, but even with all your science, you do not have us convinced that this is something more than a joke.

Our humble narrator then either relates an experience he had or is translating for a woman who most likely speaks better English than he does. We’re guessing that it’s the latter, because the video introduces Karen Nelson from Fountain Valley, CA. She’s probably telling her story competently, but we don’t get to hear that. Thanks, narrator dude.

Lastly, throughout the video we have that stupid song about the Hawaii Chair playing in what is supposed to be the background. Unfortunately, it is as loud as the narrator, and the ensuing cacophony makes you see vertigo, leaving you to seize your skull with clawed hands. This is a far cry from the peacefulness and relaxation that connotes Hawaii and everything Hawaiian.

We cannot convince you enough to avoid this machine. The machine, if not a complete joke, is at least ridiculous in concept and execution. Luckily we have our good friend Ellen DeGeneres to show us just how stupid and impractical the Hawaii Chair is:

We’re Baaaaaaaaaack: The Ab Flyer.

Tony Little nearly destroyed us last week. His sincerity and hair almost made us swoon, and it seemed we had lost faith in the nearing abpocalypse. But not to worry faithful followers! We found an ab machine which is sure to make your midsection shudder in ab-solute disgust.




That’s right, friends, Romans, and countrymen: it’s the Ab Flyer.

This infomercial has all the ingredients we have denounced from the very beginning of our blog. Blue computer-animated men, before and after photos, a patented “Reverse Arc Motion,” fake scientific studies, and the classic introduction in black and white showing people that could not perform one crunch to save their lives are all there, waiting for our jaded mind to criticize. We actually do not know where to start. After a near-flawless video, we now have a generic one, replete with every single error we could hope for. When it rains it pours.

One thing we noticed about the infomercial is that there is a total lack of puns. This is a good thing, you must be thinking, O Reader, but it is not. The audience must have at least one pun, or, lacking that, a reason why the makers of the ab machine named it the Ab Flyer. It does not have wings or a jet engine, and it rather resembles a cradle more than any kind of flyer. In fact, if they called it the “Ab Cradle” that would have been far better: the name connotes childhood, and with it would come the nostalgia of a time when everyone weighed less than they do now. Alas, they did not choose an appropriate name, and they do not want their audience to be privy to the reason why they chose such a name.

Speaking of misnomers, we must address their patented “Reverse Arc Motion.” Verbose and redundant, this phrase means next to nothing to us. Why is it just a reverse arc motion when it is obvious from the video that you swing back and forth? Of course you’re making a reverse arc motion; you’re also making a forward arc motion. Is anyone really fooled by such a phrase?

Because of YouTube, we can pause to read some of the fine print. It is strange that we never thought of doing this before, but something about the Ab Flyer forced us to over-scrutinize the video. This is what we discovered: “On average individuals lost 14 pounds, 3 inches from their waste and 13 inches overall.” This message is displayed when the video shows “Kristen’s” before and after shot, and it returns when they show “Josh’s” (hereinafter referred to as “the douche”) before and after pictures. We must wonder what source they used to calculate this average. Nonetheless, it is not very impressive. If you weigh 300 pounds and purchase the Ab Flyer, you’ll end up weighing 286 pounds and your gut will shrink three inches. It will not look like a tremendous change—in fact, you may just look pretty much the same as if you had done crunches. What’s more is that “Individuals regularly followed the Ab Flyer exercise and meal plan for 12 weeks” to get those results (that’s the fine print displayed during Kristen’s and the douche’s interviews). You have to spend three months to lose an average of 14 pounds and, at best, 13 inches all over. Ummm… We’re thinking that you should probably just stick to crunches. With crunches, you don’t have to follow any particular exercise regimen (besides just doing them), nor would you have to change your diet tremendously (who knows what kind of meal plan the Ab Flyer offers? It’s not even in their infomercial beyond the fine print!), and you’d probably end up with the same results over a three month period.

The last thing we’d like to comment on is the Resistance Dial. Why do all ab machines have to stress the change in resistance for one of the few exercises people do not use weights for? The Ab Flyer, being the banal, generic ab machine that it is, also touts its ability to add resistance to your crunch, but the way they express this is interesting: “The Ab Flyer adjusts to any fitness level: beginner to advanced.” Who does an “advanced” crunch? On top of that, who does a “beginner” crunch (is that anything like “girl push-ups”)? The terms beginner and advanced do not necessarily have anything to do with the amount of resistance you have for a crunch. A crunch, be it on the ground or in a cradle with Reverse Arc Motion, is a crunch, and adding weight or resistance does not change the fact that it’s a crunch.

Everything else about this infomercial we have already criticized in other posts. The Ab Flyer is so formulaic that we had to read the fine print to look for something different to talk about. Nothing stood out in the video despite the Ab Flyer’s mysterious connection with the sky. The Ab Flyer has dropped us down to earth from the Little cloud we were lounging in.

A Little Awesome: The Ab Lounge

Tony Little can sell anything. Part of the reason we have delayed this post is just the mere fact that we think the Ab Lounge is pretty cool. Hey! It’s a lounge and an ab machine! How cool is that? Too cool, we had to admit, despite the cynical voice inside our mind desperately trying to refute our initial impression. Day after day we returned to YouTube to watch the video, looking for that fatal flaw, that one piece of evidence where Tony Little slips and we could pounce on him. Day after day we were unsuccessful.

Well, we could always make fun of his hair.


Really, though, this is a tough one. It is tough because we have a video from HSN up instead of the usual infomercial. There are no gimmicks or tricks or anything else we usually roll our eyes at and murmur “Not this again” to. It’s Tony Little being honest. He even tells us the reason why the cost of the machine will go up! (Something about 20 percent and steel—sounds true, at least.) Of course, we could deny the veracity of everything he does, but one must genuinely wonder: is everything on television fake?

Our minds then switched to that inane talking head next to the venerable Tony Little. She is worthy of our scorn, what with her stupid catch phrases and unnecessary repetition of Tony Little’s statements. With a vengeance undeserved we strove to rip her apart: her clichéd mottos (“Today’s the day!” is one of her favorite sayings) and her false smile (one can smile and smile and be a villain) and her red shirt were all out of place and superfluous. We jotted everything down. She was our ticket. We would unleash our wrath on her because we could not genuinely hate this machine.


But we couldn’t pick on her. It was not for any moral reason we stopped short of releasing our dogs on her. It was simply because we would be off topic if we had just used this post to poke fun at her. That woman is only connected to the Ab Lounge insofar as it is on HSN. She would prattle on unaware of the inanity she exudes for any product that happened to be showcased while she was on television. This time it was the Ab Lounge, but it could equally be for Snuggies, Encyclopedia World Book, or a box of Q-Tips. We would no longer be making fun of the machine if we devoted this post to her; we would be attacking the straw (wo)man and making it look like we were attacking the machine. No. That would not suffice. We had to find something about the machine to deride for this post.


Our obsession grew. The same three minutes and fifty seconds on repeat. We did not shave. We did not shower. Our loathing turned inward. Were we beaten? Did we finally find an ab machine that actually makes sense? No! How could it? Why would paying $150 to get the same workout you could get for free make sense? Still, we reasoned that $150 seems to be pretty standard in the ab machine world. Why not spend a little bit to get a pretty cool machine that has multiple uses? It’s better than spending $150 and getting Sean T.’s dance videos or the Ab Circle Pro or any of the other machines we have rent asunder with our biting critique.

We slapped ourself in the face.


No.


This isn’t it. We were not going to write a post lauding an ab machine with the abpocalypse looming nigh. We have precedent we must follow; we have a reputation to maintain.

“Think!” we thought. So we thought and thought and thought. We tried really hard. We redoubled our efforts and watched the video several more times. All we came up with is that girl using the Ab Lounge is pretty cute.


And then today, on the verge of accepting defeat, we watched the video one last time, wondering if it would be wrong on some ethical plane to actually purchase this gizmo. Then, as if some muse had finally communicated to us the hamartia of the Ab Lounge, the answer came to us as we watched Tony Little for the final time. Everything was golden for a minute. Silence reigned supreme as a benign smile curled our face. Our critique was here. It was simple and, like Occam’s razor, therefore true. This is what the muse sent down to us:

It’s a freakin’ chair!

Rock This: The Ab Rocket.

We don’t have a video this week; YouTube can only take us so far. You could watch this video in what appears to be either Russian or Turkish, but if you are not fluent in Eastern European languages, it may not help. The best we can do for you lazy bums is post a link to the website: https://www.tryabrocket.com/flare/next?tag=ossmgo. There’s a video there, but it’s microscopic. There’s also this 1:37 video of Ashley Marriott (the only woman I have ever seen with a concave stomach) explaining why she likes the Ab Rocket… like we care.


So click on any video you like, but know that we will be discussing the microscopic video on the Ab Rocket website.


The lesson for this week, kiddies, is how to use puns and metaphors appropriately. We have already seen how ab machines tend to use plays on words to sell their products (see The AbPony and Ab Scissor Ultra posts), but this is the first time where playing with the name of the machine has actually gotten out of hand.




The first pun is fairly obvious—creative even. It’s the Ab “Rocket”! Get it? Because you rock back and forth on it. You rock it, that rocket, and it makes your abs rock hard (and concave somehow). Fine. We get it. There’s a connection between a back-and-forth motion, space travel, and the firmness of stones. The makers of the Ab Rocket could have left it at that like the makers of the AbPony (all that was really said was “Get on and ride”) or the Ab Scissor (where it was just “cutting the fat”), but they refused. Now we must (our master's degree compels us) expose the misuse of language in order to stamp out such nonsensical errors in the populace.




The first line of the itsy-bitsy video is already baffling: “Want sizzling hot abs?”




What? Really? What does “sizzling hot” have to do with the original pun? Nothing, unless the script writers thought of the tremendous heat generated by rockets as they are shot off into space. But, let us say, for the purpose of argument, we didn’t already know this was a commercial advertisement for the Ab Rocket. It’s 3 a.m. and you can’t sleep and so you watch television to get your mind off the eerie similarity between sleep and death and your utter conviction that the apocalypse is nigh. Still, even with that mindset, you might think this machine is called the Ab Fire or something like that, but we’ll let it go for now.




We then are introduced to the name of this legless chair with rollers, and the puns begin to flow: “Just sit and rock” (with the word “rock” tilting up and down as if on a see-saw), “easy lift off,” etc. Then, amidst these appropriate (although still bad) puns, we get: “Turn that spare tire into rocket hard abs.” There are so many things wrong with that mixed metaphor that we are aghast. We know that the “spare tire” refers to the excess fat on your stomach, but how exactly does a spare tire turn into rocket hard abs? In other words, if you’re going to call excess fat a spare tire, then why not call the abs something else that relates to tires? Can’t think of a tire-related metaphor for toned abs? Then call the excess fat what it is! We must also concede that rockets generally are nonporous, but “rocket hard” does not strike us as an apt (or even a desirable) description of a fit midsection. (I highly doubt they are intentionally referring to anything phallic here, but if they are, then there are problems with that pun as well.) The writers sound like they are high school sophomores (with the stress on the “mores”) trying to write a short story. This is highlighted by the fact that the announcer is nearly falling off his rocker in his enthusiasm over this defilement of words and their referents. It just doesn't make any sense to say you could turn that spare tire into rocket hard abs. It just doesn’t.




Like its ab machine brethren, we get a meal plan with the Ab Rocket. The meal plan is called “Blast Away the Calories.” Heh. Good one. We also get a dance video (apparently Sean T. is a threat to the world of ab machines); guess what the dance video is called! Surprise, surprise, it’s the “Fun Rockin’ Cardio Dance Party.” For now, don’t mind the excessive use of adjectives. What’s important is that we are introduced to another pun on “rock”: rock music (or rocking out), but the pun comes out vapid. It also acts as a slightly mixed metaphor because rock music is a separate genre from dance. With certain exceptions, you do not dance to rock music. If the writers had intended “rockin’” to be a slang term for “good” then this works, we suppose, but it is still inane. This whole shebang is called “The Ab Rocket and the Ab Rocket Fat Blasting System”—all right! We’re finally over it.




You may think that it’s now over. How can a video of a few minutes have so many bad puns and mixed metaphors? You may also think that, no matter how much we harp, at least the video ended with a consistent pun to the original one. We regret to inform you that they do not end the video with anything that makes the least bit of sense.




Just when we thought we could stop paying attention because it was boilerplate blue screen credit card ordering procedure time, we heard the dumbest thing said on any ab machine infomercial to date:




“Hold everything! Don’t wait…”




What?!




Did the announcer hear what he was saying? In a single breath he told us (in the same excited tone he was using throughout the commercial, mind you) to stop and go. We imagine this was supposed to be some “stop the presses” moment, but it came out all wrong. He literally said “Hold everything!” which means he wants us to wait. Then immediately following that he said “Don’t wait.” What was supposed to be encouragement for ordering turned out to be an existential crisis (like the “being and not being” of Doctor Faustus). We cannot imagine how anyone would not be sitting like a rock and completely befuddled after those commands. Granted, this last example has nothing to do with puns or metaphors, but the contradiction is so obvious and puzzling that it had to be mentioned.




So let us review, shall we? First, if you us a pun, don’t overdo it. If it’s a good pun, it gets tiresome after the fifth time, and if it’s bad, it just makes everything worse. Next, do not mix metaphors. They sound stupid, they don’t make any sense, and no one will be impressed with them. No one. Also, please begin your ab machine video (or whatever you are doing that involves words) with at least a little foreshadowing, and please do not end it with a contradiction (or contradictory commands). If you follow these basic rules, then we will have time to make fun of something else about you besides your language.

Cutting the Fat: the Ab Scissor Ultra

Cutting is the theme for this week, and so we present to you the Ab Scissor Ultra:




Impressive in its Spartan décor, no? It seems like Body by Jake interrupted a Thornton Wilder play to put on this commercial. On top of that, it appears that Steve Maresca was told to tone his excitement down to a whisper, which begs wonder: did they shoot this video in a library? This brings us to the main thing the Ab Scissor Ultra cuts: costs. All the other cuts in production and everything else stem from Body by Jake’s frugality. For instance, the official video on Body by Jake’s website (in the upper right hand corner) is not even a complete video. The player cannot be expanded, so we must squint to see what’s going on (the You Tube version of the website video is choppy and grainy at times, especially around the abdominal area for many of the interviewees [fitting?]). They clearly did not hire a professional web designer to make the site. There are no frilly extras in the website video either: just the basic interviews and before-and-afters. Going back to the video above, it appears they did the whole thing in one take because Steve messes up his line 27 seconds in and corrects himself; we assume they could not afford to pay someone to do the editing.

What’s strange about the parsimonious attitude is the cost of the machine. (Here we must interrupt ourselves to congratulate Body by Jake for proudly displaying the cost of their machine on their website, without having someone pretend to order the machine just to see how much it costs.) If you want to pay for the machine in full, it will cost you $159 without tax and shipping. If you’d like to set up a payment plan, then be prepared to pay $99.50 twice, which is (let me bust out the calculator here…) $199! The video on the website boasts that it has sold more than 700,000 of these “scissors” already. Assuming their demographic is the cheap chubby chum who did the math, and assuming by “over 700,000” they mean 700,001, then—without tax and shipping—they have $111,300,159. So they made over a hundred million dollars already, and they couldn’t afford a second take for poor Mr. Maresca?

Something isn’t quite right here. The Ab Scissor looks like a simplified torture device from the middle ages, so it could not have cost that much to make. There’s almost nothing to this machine. It’s a chair with foot rests and overarching handle bars. The freebies offered are the bare minimum, required for any ab workout (even Sean T’s!): an eating guide, a video, instructions, and a log. The government couldn’t really be taking that much from their sales, and there doesn’t seem like they have a multitude of employees to pay. Unless “Kat” was demanding a huge salary for her (literal) minute of fame, we cannot fathom why they cut everything else.

Body by Jake cuts on cost and production for their Ab Scissor Ultra while swearing it will cut the fat from your midsection (hopefully not literally). We would much rather cut ourselves than purchase a simplistic machine presented to us so shoddily.

Results on the Run: Hip Hop Abs

Sean T. and his Hip Hop Abs workout ignore many of the rules set forth by his predecessors: no gimmicks, no fake scientists/reports, no thermal imaging tests, no computer-generated men—hell, there isn’t even a machine!

So you, O reader, might think: “What must we complain of now?”

There are a plethora of interviews and before-and-after shots, but these are compulsory for any workout infomercial. There is the denigration of the crunch, but how else could you sell something that does the same job? There is also the requisite amount of toned tummies (although it is clear the video’s demographic is women), but, alas, we have grown used to that too (already?). Really this video seems, prima facie, to be as close to air-tight as any workout video can get.

But wait a second… What exactly is this black Richard Simmons selling?

Nothing.

Well…not nothing: he’s teaching you how to dance. He’s also teaching you how to get the terrible (tasting) items at fast food joints so it feels like you’re not dieting. But that’s it. There is nothing tangible here that you bought besides magnetized discs that play in your digital video disc player. If you run out of resolve, you can hide these DVD’s better than the AbPony (although the AbPony does tuck away for easy storage).You’re not getting anything from the illustrious Sean T. that you could not get from a dance class at your local community college or gym and a look at the nutrition facts chart in Burger King.

Someone playing devil’s advocate might say: “What about the shy people who do not want to venture to a gym or community college for a dance class? What about the people who feel they are so obese that they would look ridiculous doing these moves? Shouldn’t they have the right to learn how to dance in the comfort and privacy of their own homes?”

Certainly, they should and do have that right. However, for the price they’re paying Sean T. for his “Tilt, Tuck, and Tighten,” technique they could ask a live teacher questions, meet other people in the same situation, and, because of their connection with people, they could find themselves bound to their resolve to work out. Plus, while we must credit Sean T. for not including fake reports and hired goons acting as scientists to push the veracity of his claims, there is no solid proof this regimen works. If you purchase these videos and discover they do not work for you, you may become dejected and give up working out altogether; in a class, however, if you find dancing is not enough to get your metabolism going, there is someone there who could point to something else that might help.

So you’re not getting anything when you purchase Hip Hop Abs that you cannot get anywhere else. The infomercial is noticeably empty: the video just repeats the same interviews and information. The 4:29 duration could easily be a minute or so. The seven workout videos you get are essentially the same, but there’s a slightly different spin on each so it seems like you’re getting more. Do not be fooled. It would be safer, more fun, and more rewarding to attend a dance class than getting Hip Hob Abs.

At worst, Hip Hop Abs could ruin your desire for a healthly lifestyle, or, at best, you could look as foolish as Ellen:

Battle of the Lazy Person’s Ab Machines: The Flex Belt versus The Contour

Have you ever thought to yourself, “I would like to have a lean and trim figure, but I do not want to work out”? Did you also think that such contradictory desires are impossible to fulfill at once?

Well, if you thought “yes” in answer to the latter question, you’re wrong.

We present to you two videos to show just how wrong you are. That’s right, there’s not just one miracle ab machine that allows you to get fit without all the sweating and motion usually involved, there are two. For your edification, the following videos:





Now we know what you’re thinking: “Is that even possible? Can you actually get toned abdominal muscles by putting on a belt and trusting ‘EMS’ Technology?” We cannot definitively answer that here; what we can do, however, is try to convince you that these machines are just as stupid as any others. Let us take a closer look at the contenders.

So we have in one corner, from Slendertone, the Flex Belt (aka “System Abs”): a name as contradictory as the fact that you can get a workout by watching television, for flexing denotes motion while a belt restricts. Slendertone hails from Ireland, and boasts on its website of how the Flex Belt is 100% medical science. They also have a testimonial from Jerry Rice, a famous person who can say anything because he is retired. Slendertone’s System Abs/Flex Belt is quite impressive—a worthy challenger to the Contour.

In the opposite corner is the Contour Core Sculpting System, which is more familiarly known as the Contour. Why they chose this name we cannot know. (Ignore the fact that this ab machine actually begins with the word “con.”) “Contour” simply means an outline of a figure—a perfectly neutral word, since any figure can have a contour. The Contour boasts of its Swiss heritage, and instead of having a once high-profile celebrity, its website promotes some sort of “Sculpting System” which includes e³ (eat, exercise, and eStim [electronic meth?]). This is equally as impressive as the Flex Belt in its mediocrity.

Let the games begin!

Round 1: Science

Science is of the utmost importance for both machines, for without it no one would believe that wearing a tacky belt would actually slim one down. Slendertone pushes science down your throat with its claim that the Flex Belt is “100% medical science.” This is powerful because that could mean the Contour, since it does not make the same claim, is below 100% medical science (maybe 98% medical science?—We’re not sure).

The Contour does not take that claim lying down (like a person doing crunches): they fight back with their claim that the Contour combines “modern digital technology and the science of physiology.” It’s fairly useless to say “modern digital technology” because digital technology has been around since at least the 70s, and it hasn’t changed much. The Contour then shows its thermographic images proving that one’s belly is hotter (literally) after wearing the Contour than if one did 50 crunches. We already have been through the complications of thermal imaging tests, so there is no need to flog that dead horse. Note the lack of information: how long was the person wearing the Contour so that he got more of a workout than 50 crunches? An hour? 10 seconds? 4 years?!

Slendertone’s Flex Belt also has thermographic images on their website, but it only shows the heat generated from just using the Flex Belt. This is far more believable, but less impressive.

But, like any dissertation-fueled argument, the Flex Belt goes even further with a jab to the belly of the Contour: clinical studies. With a background of a couple of reports whose bindings appear to have been color-coordinated, the narrator in the video claims that “All over the world, study after study proves that System Abs’s revolutionary EMS Technology really works.” Apparently, the whole world consists of the United States and Ireland because they only mention three cities: Galway and Dublin (Ireland), and LaCrosse (USA). “Study after study” clearly means three studies: one at the BMR Institute, one at Trinity College, and one at the University of Wisconsin (which is expanded to encompass the entire United States, for, as noted above, it’s “LaCrosse, USA”).

All the Contour has by way of response is a guy explaining that research showed that the Contour worked the abs more than a traditional crunch. You and whose nerd army says that, four eyes? You don’t have the weight of the University of Wisconsin and Trinity College in Dublin, do you? Do you?!

But wait… there’s more! Slendertone does not stop with clinical studies; it has statistics to prove the worth of its Flex Belt. 100% of the people who used the Flex Belt reported “positive results,” while 92% of users felt their stomachs were more firmed and toned. What happened to those people who constitute the missing 8%? They had positive results, but their tummies didn’t tighten? What would positive results be if they weren’t taut abs? Did they think the vibrations on their stomachs were just a massage?

Before the Contour can take another swing, the Flex Belt crushes it with a poll from Cosmopolitan Magazine! (Yes, the most trusted name in scientific polls, Cosmo.) Again, 96% of users said they would continue using the Flex Belt, while a mere 81% said they got firmer stomachs in four weeks. Why would those members in the 15th percentile continue using the Flex Belt if they didn’t get firmer stomachs? Why is there even a difference in percentages at all?

The Contour cannot respond to this, and, when it looks like the Contour is just about to collapse, we hear the bell that ends Round 1.

Round 2: People

Blow for blow and shot for shot, both videos have the most attractive people we have seen on any ab machine infomercial. There is not a single person on either video who is overweight or funny looking. The before-and-after photographs do not show much difference in the users of either the Contour or the Flex Belt: the users were a little pudgy before, and they lost some pudge after. The people in grey doing the old crunch already have flat stomachs. Even the two old people are decent looking old people. These two videos are evenly matched in that regard. However, when we go to the testimonials, there is a stark difference.

Ladies and gentlemen, let us be the first to introduce you to Ken Sherman, a man who claims to be 57 with a body so muscular it looks like his muscles have muscles (at least on his stomach: it looks like he has a 12-pack). His delivery of his lines is flawless. If he is not already a professional actor, we hope he gets a real acting job soon because we almost believe him. It is a shame that Ken is followed up by less worthy deliverers of drivel, for he should have been the headliner, the coup de grace.

What does the Flex Belt have to say to Ken Sherman? Well, they have an older looking woman too. She remains anonymous in her red hair and blue sweater, and she cannot stop looking at the teleprompter for her lines. We have a guy who screams “Aaah Yeah!” in an attempt to show excitement over his “workout” with the Flex Belt, but it comes out flat. Before him we have a moron who explains to us that it feels like he’s doing a crunch… but he’s not! We get that already.

The Contour also has a guy who tells us it feels like he’s doing a crunch, but it’s not only him: we also get a woman who narrates her life to us as well. They have tons of testimonials and far more attractive people touting the product. Just in sheer volume and quality, it looks like we have Slendertone’s Flex Belt beat… but again, a belt is saved by the bell.

Round 3: We Have a Winner?

The bell for the third round has sounded. Can you feel the tension? The two titans with their sagging belts are evenly matched. The first round saw the Contour struggling to stay afoot, the second saw the Slendertone slip but remain standing. BMR Institute, the coach for the Flex Belt, has splashed water on the face of its fighter, while Swiss Wave, the coach for the Contour, has removed its pugilist’s mouthguard and force fed it Gatorade. They return to the ring, exhausted, but with tight abs.

Slendertone’s Flex Belt throws the first punch with its claim that the “Flex Belt is the only Abdominal Toning system cleared by the FDA for Toning, Firming and Strengthening the stomach muscles” [emphasis added]. But that’s simply not true! The Contour parries the blow by its claim that it too is approved by the Food and Drug Administration. The fundamental (but ignored) question is: why do these products need to be cleared by the FDA? They are neither food nor drugs, and other ab machines like the AbPony and the Ab Circle Pro do not seem to be concerned that they are not approved by “The Man.” Is it because these contenders use electric shocks to stimulate muscles, so there may be hidden dangers to these machines that they do not explain to you? And, because there is no appropriate government organization to clear these machines, they pass it off to the Food and Drug Administration whose methods and research may or may not be adequate for clearing a machine that is neither a food nor a drug? The fighters retreat to their corners for a breather before facing each other again.

The Flex Belt, trying to gain the upper hand, again attacks with its European-ness. Slendertone and BMRI are based in Ireland, which is technically Europe. Strangely enough, aside from the clinical studies done in Ireland, the Flex Belt is not proud to be Irish because nowhere in the video do they mention that fact (it must have read too much Joyce). The Contour responds with its own European-ness—a well-grounded European-ness too. Hailing from Switzerland, the Contour boasts of the “exact standards” of “Swiss medical professionals” (not doctors?). So the Contour not only parries, but counters by giving the Flex Belt a hard fist in the face.

The Flex Belt tries add-ons: carrying case, adapter, replacement pads, and instruction manuals. All of these things also come with the Contour Core Sculpting System, along with e³. The situation is looking quite grim for our Flex Belt.

The Flex Belt, desperate, throws the last punch with its cheesy lines and mottos. It screams at the Contour: “Hard work pays off eventually, but smart work pays too!” The Contour looks affected by this accusation, not at all realizing that it is next to meaningless. And then, out of nowhere, comes the haymaker from Slendertone: “Charge it, swap it, share it, work it.” In case you do not know what the terms mean, the end of video shows animated, silhouetted examples of each of the items in the list. The woman singing the motto seems to have just gotten off a pornographic movie set (pun intended). No matter how dumb the motto is, the Contour cannot respond. It has none of its own garish lines that have nothing to do with the functioning of the belt. Stunned, it takes one last look to the ceiling of an arena lit up with flash bulbs before it spins and falls to the mat. The referee is counting to ten. The Contour does not get up.

We have a winner! The Flex Belt is the champion of the Dumbest Ab Belt Award! The Contour put up a good fight, but the Flex Belt certainly came out on top. While Ken Sherman was impressive, in the end it was the useless mottos that gave Slendertone the edge. One lesson remains from our little match for you, O reader: when it’s Ireland versus Switzerland, you lose.

From Flab to Ab: The Ab Circle Pro.

Boy do we have a treat for you! The Ab Circle Pro promises that you will go from “Flab to Ab,” so it has to be good. What does it mean to go from “Flab to Ab,” you ask? Well… ummm…

Let’s take a look at the video!



Now this is a popular abdominal machine. It does not take much of a search on Youtube to discover that there is more than one video for this “Pro” machine. There’s a video of the Ab Circle Pro on the beach, a ten minute (possibly full) version of this infomercial, and even an abridged version of the above video that shaves off a minute. What’s more, the Ab Circle Pro has its own spokeswoman, Jennifer Nicole Lee (hereinafter “JNL,” since the video seems to call her that). Watch out, AbPony! We’re dealing with a professional here!

Immediately you can see a huge difference between the amateurish AbPony video and the Ab Circle: we start with black and white chubby people worrying about their “love handles that nobody loves.” The AbPony was shooting for envy with their “sexy” patriotic woman, but the Ab Circle Pro goes for identification; they target their audience instantly and degrade them in the process. The Ab Circle Pro is also a haughty machine. It sets itself apart from equipment that goes forward and back (we can almost feel sorry for the AbPony here) and side to side. We are informed that the Ab Circle Pro can handle the upper, lower, and middle abs—even the obliques! There’s nothing to fear, flabby insomniacs, the Ab Circle Pro is here!

Despite all the professionalism encircling the Ab Circle Pro, we encounter some of the same gimmicks that the AbPony employed: viz., computerized men, ridiculous claims that cannot be proven, beautiful people, and the denigration of an exercise regimen that is free. There are twists, however. Instead of one dull grey computer-rendered man, they have two blue computer-rendered men, running and doing crunches and being morphed into one man using the Ab Circle Pro. And the Ab Circle Pro does not bother with dummy graphs to try and “back” their claims. They are so professional that their word is as good as proven. Three minutes is as good as 100 sit-ups. It’s true because JNL says it is, and she’s too fit to be lying. Of course (and we think we shall always encounter this for all exercise-related infomercials) there is a plethora of beautiful men and women touting the product by smiling and swinging, but, in an effort to show the catholicity of the Ab Circle Pro, they include older men and women as well. No ab machine infomercial would be complete without mocking the good old (free) crunch, and so we have a woman in the video who shows the danger of free exercise attempting to hold her neck and stomach at the same time.

There are places where the Ab Circle Pro goes further than the AbPony. There is an excessive use of before and after shots of people that supposedly used the Ab Circle Pro. None of these photos are incredible per se, but there are so many of them that they start to lose their value. There is also a heavy reliance on interviews with random people about the effectiveness of the Ab Circle Pro. We do not know why infomercials do this—it’s not fooling anyone. Guys touted as doctors and physical therapists are just actors; this is common knowledge. Even JNL can be doubted: has anyone heard of her prior to watching this infomercial?

The funniest things about the infomercial are the things that are not said, and by this we mean the text that litters practically every other screen of the infomercial. The first one is probably the most ridiculous of them all: “Circular Force Technology.” This is presented to us as if there is such a thing as a Circular Force Technology, replete with an exclamation point. What kind of technology is this Circular Force? JNL tells us that the machine is (so) advanced and she mentions the circular motion, but those are mentioned as two separate items. There is no specific reference to what exactly this Circular Force Technology is.

Later on, instead of “Your money back” when the voice-over guy says you will lose ten pounds in two weeks, they write “Guaranteed,” which is only a subtle difference, but one that could cost you $14.95.

The next one, which occurs while our two blue computerized friends are fusing together, says “Cardio & Abs Burns Fat Faster!” The narrator neglects to mention the “faster” part when explaining how cardio and abs burns fat. The comparative “faster” requires something to compare: that is, if the Ab Circle Pro burns fat faster, it must burn fat faster than something (the old crunch? A fire?).

Then there is the wild claim about a friction-free track. We don’t know much about physics, but we thought we learned a long time ago in high school that it was impossible for a surface to be friction-free. Let’s hope those chubby black and white people don’t hold doctorates in physics.

The next unspoken thing is an equation of some sort: “Targets Entire Core = FASTER RESULTS!” This equation does not make sense to us. Maybe it was because we got a C in Calculus, or maybe because those two terms do not equal each other. Take your pick. Strangely enough, the voice-over guy tells at about that time that the user of the Ab Circle Pro is targeting her midsection in a “full circular motion.” I may be wrong here, but I thought a full circle was 360 degrees. Using the Ab Circle Pro, you’re at best making a 240 degree arc. (Again, this would probably sell at 3:00 a.m. when you can hardly read a digital clock let alone remember how many degrees are in a full circle.) Then we have another equation: “Cardio Plus Abs = Faster Results!” Hold on… Wait just a minute here… So does this mean that, by the transitive property, “Targets Entire Core = Cardio Plus Abs”? Or is the “Faster Results!” here different from the previous one because all the letters are not capitalized?

Instead of a dummy graph in the infomercial, we get a dummy video clip. The colors are suddenly altered and the narrator tells us that we are now looking at the results of a thermal imaging test. What’s foolish about this is that the guy running on the treadmill is giving off no heat whatsoever. Did he just start running? Plus, we have no idea what temperatures the colors represent. Green is widely considered a “cool” color, and so if we had to guess, the guy on the treadmill is suffering from hypothermia. And why are they comparing the Ab Circle Pro with just the treadmill? Did they forget that their pro machine combines both the treadmill and the crunch together, or did they discover that doing a crunch would produce the same results in the thermal imaging test?

After filler interviews and before-and-afters, we get to the secret of the Ab Circle Pro: it has a pin! That pin can be removed! And when you remove the pin, you get a bun and thigh workout! Huzzah!

Now as you, O reader, can imagine, we have neglected how ridiculous working out on this machine looks. This, we assure you, was done intentionally because of the grenade-like secret of the Ab Circle Pro. If you thought the AbPony was sexually suggestive, the Ab Circle Pro is certainly pornographic. If you do not believe us, then why do they only show this portion for a few seconds before calming you down with a scene of a bikini clad woman’s derriere as she walks into the ocean? Why do they only bring up the bun and thigh workout only one other time before the end of the video? It’s racy I tells ya. That’s why.

The machine obviously cannot stand on its own like the AbPony. JNL’s workout and eating guide comes free with your purchase, along with some kind of circular computer with numbers that flash on it randomly. These items are supposed to entice, but they only do so because you hear “absolutely free” after they are mentioned. You do not think about why you should trust JNL. Is she a renowned nutritionist of some sort? You do not wonder whether you need a circular computer with random flashing numbers. The word “free” erases these doubts and bolsters the sale of a machine that makes you look like a performing seal when you use it.

Really, that’s what it boils down to with the Ab Circle Pro: the ridiculousness of the motion, the ridiculousness of the claims. The Ab Circle Pro is not much different than the AbPony because both charge you money to get off the floor and do a crunch. They mask the foolishness of it all by beautiful bodies and a sense of inferiority that you should feel (JNL’s “system” is called “Lose Your Love Handles”—an order which implies a moral statement [love handles should be lost]). And the thing is, at three in the morning, you may just believe them.

Get On & Ride! The AbPony

Welcome to the premiere of Abominable Abdominals. Yes, you found it (congratulations?): the only blog (last time we checked…which was never) dedicated to abdominal machine infomercials (at least for now). If you must ask why, then you clearly are not as bored as you thought you were.

For the inauguration of this much-needed social critique, we present to you, in all its near-pornographic glory: The AbPony.




Never mind that this “pony” is nothing more than a glorified rocking chair, or that they provide no real evidence that rocking back and forth will tone your abdominal muscles, or even that the use of dummy graphs and “sexy” people are all just marketing gimmicks meant to trick the untrained observer into believing that this piece of equipment will actually help. Never mind all of that.

Well, actually do mind all of that—those things will be all this post is about.

We first start off with “Wow!” which is what you’re all probably thinking anyway: a girl walking up to the pool in someone’s backyard is pretty spectacular. She has an okay body and face, but why does she need the arm bands? She looks like a portion of the American flag. For the second blonde girl, the cameraman was clearly more interested in the camel toe than the abs. Why would these women show off their stomachs in their grandmothers’ underwear? The narrator is talking about abs, but you, O viewer, not knowing what this is about exactly (although you must be fairly certain that it’s for an exercise machine of some sort since it’s three in the morning and you’ve run out of scotch) are not prepared for the real wow: that which can only be called “The AbPony.”

But wait! The narrator does not get to that yet. Still interested? We know we are.

Apparently rocking back and forth for five minutes a day three times a week is all you need to have a stomach you can join a jug band with. The really weird part before the really really weird part is that they circle and cross out (a la many a “no smoking” sign [except these just look like giant, tilted e’s]) the “No more” in “No more lying on the floor” and “No more yanking on your neck” etc. This creates a double negative, so does that mean there is more lying on the floor? The facial expression of the guy cheating with his arms and legs (grammatically and linguistically ambiguous) is priceless, as if he forced an expression to show that cheating on a crunch is more difficult than the crunch itself. If it’s more difficult, is it really cheating? Besides, one must keep one’s cheating muscles toned as well—just in case.

But his expression is all we are left with before we get to the main course: The AbPony! Of course—if you’re anything like we are—you’re already smirking because of the goateed crunch-faker's expression. So the “Wow!” is lost. Not only that, but also those quasi-beautiful bathing beauties and male torsos that were carved by Michelangelo are forgotten because of the cheater—talk about anti-climactic.

The disappointment continues when you see the “pony” that you must “ride”. It doesn’t look the least bit like a pony by any account. By a stretch of the imagination one could conceive an ox or other—how do I say “bovine like” without the “like”?—cowish—some cowish creature. What it looked like to us prima facie was a misshapen, useless bicycle. That is really what it is, but somehow they believe it looks like a pony. They are so convinced of this that we are told that all we do is “get on and ride!” However, here riding can only be a sexual reference: any other type of riding usually denotes an inert torso.

It looks easy to use, I’ll give the AbPony that much, but why the graphic with the ghostman being levitated off the floor in the middle of his workout to be placed on a piece of playground equipment? And did you hear what the narrator just said? “The AbPony takes the most effective exercise ever for your stomach, the old ab crunch, up off the floor into a comfortable seated position; immediately you are locked into the perfect muscle-tightening, tummy-toning crunch every time…” (emphasis added [for {ironic} dramatic effect]). If both propositions are true, then there is hardly a difference between crunches and riding the AbPony. If the old ab crunch is so good, why even bother with the AbPony? You know the old saying, if it ain’t broke… (don’t try to late-night peddle a sexually-suggestive equine contraption). But the narrator did stress the negatives of the old ab crunch: lying on the floor, yanking the neck, cheating. I guess the most effective exercise ever for your stomach is dangerous for your back, neck, and morality.

The next thing that we absolutely hate about all infomercials (and even some commercials) is the presentation of dummy graphs. The AbPony is exemplary in this aspect. The claim: The AbPony is 100% more effective than regular crunches (despite the fact the narrator just told us that the old ab crunch was the most effective exercise ever for your stomach). The proof? A bar graph made to order, blue bars labeled “AB CRUNCH” in plain white (we’re supposed to believe this is boring) and the gimmicky red and blue “AbPony” (they should have made the bars for the graph a different color, it’s hard to see the “Pony” part) galloping to the top—only our old friend the ab crunch can’t quite make it. And what does it mean that crunches done on the AbPony are 100% more effective? Does that mean it takes only half as many crunches to get washboard abs? Really? How do you measure that? In the infomercial, they show the same guy doing both versions of the crunch, but if he already got washboard abs with the AbPony, how could he measure the effectiveness of the old ab crunch? If they used two different people, how do you know it’s the effectiveness of the equipment and not just different body chemistry? Who conducted this “independent test” in the AbPony laboratory?

Just when the questions start rolling off your tongue and you find these claims to be literally incredible, they bust out the big guns. A beautiful woman of indiscriminate race (maybe all races: it does say it’s “easy enough for everyone”) is rocking back and forth with a completely Zen expression. If she was the first woman we saw in this infomercial, the initial “Wow” might have been appropriate. There’s nothing like sex appeal to forget a bunch of weak arguments, non sequiturs, and contradictions (we’re looking at you, Sarah Palin… ba-ZING!). It’s nice how the makers of the infomercial place “everyone” between the heights of 5’2” and 6’4”. It also said it could hold up to 300 pounds, so some people that may really need the AbPony would not be able to use it. Can we say “ab-solutely ridiculous”? (We can and will… and just did).

Fortunately for us, the internet saw fit to cut this infomercial off before it really got out of hand.

So there you have it: the inaugural post of Abominable Abdominals. We hope you enjoyed our first post, and expect other bad infomercials to come. If you would like to send us a ridiculous exercise-related infomercial (preferably about the abdominals), we would appreciate it. Who knows? You may even find the infomercial you hate the most being derided by someone like you: a person who has too much time on their hands.