You know those commercials for products that you have to call and order from a customer sales representative if you want to buy them? They’re like miniature infomercials, and the products they sell can range from those Sharper Image air filters that work by eliminating negative energy positrons from your astral plane to some sort of fancy bleach that, as man-about-town Billy Mayes screams at you, can get blood stains out of turtleneck.

I love these commercials, and despite the fact that they’re boring, long, stupid and never actually make me want to buy the knife set or Sharper Image slave collar, I think all commercials should be required by law to be like these mini-infomercials.

The reason these commercials are better than regular commercials is because these commercials are actually trying to sell the product; regular commercials are just trying to sell the advertising agency, and that’s when a dangerous thing called creativity enters the fray.

Trying to make something unique and creative is fine, so long as the person behind it is actually creative. A creative person can be trusted to make something like that old lady who fell down and crooned “where’s the beef?” or a furry, wise guy sock puppet from another planet who eats cats and helps the Tanner family learn life lessons in 22-minute blocks.

However, creation can be dangerous in the wrong hands. Somebody responsible for something that you will see 900 times a day as you eagerly await the return of “Charles in Charge” or “The Jeffersons” had better be creative, lest you are forced to endlessly see a commercial where a man standing in a mall inexplicably has his testicles crushed by an inexplicably placed batting-cage machine followed by a message informing you that you aren’t buying enough energy drinks.

However, since the commercials that seem to be selling fart jokes far outnumber the brilliant commercials that put you through a gamut of emotions, I am advocating the denouncement of creativity. Because advertising agencies can no longer be trusted, they must now be forced to make commercials where lousy actors look frustrated before they use the product and overjoyed after they start using the product.

And keeping with my rejection of creativity, I am also renouncing creativity for myself, lest I be labeled a hypocrite. Ergo, I am now going to recycle a column that I wrote not yet a month ago and review the absolute worst commercials on TV, as they exist in multiplicity and parody. And, just like the first time I did this, I will grade each commercial with which body part or organ I would gladly donate to the less-fortunate if it meant I never had to see said commercial again.

DirecTV

DirecTV tries to get people to buy satellite dishes by parading out such bright stars as the sister of the guy from “High Fidelity,” or Danny DeVito, famous for his masterful portrayal of the Grundle King in “My Little Pony: The Movie,” and making them read fake DirecTV fan mail.

The thinking behind these commercials is that the average John P. StupidMoron or Jane X. Can’t-Tie-Her-Shoes can’t properly express his or her absolute, undying love for their satellite TV provider. Therefore, DirecTV has thought it proper to do a service for these imbeciles by writing fake fan mail and letting people who portray emotions for a living convey the raw feeling emanating from the three sentences written by the guy who directed the commercial.

And if that doesn’t make you want to buy a satellite dish, well then you might as well cash in on the life insurance policy your parents bought for you because your brain must be dead.

Rating: I’d be able to sleep well at night knowing that I donated all my skin to some freezing orphans so that I’d never have to see Dave Coulier read “I like DirecTV a whole lot. The end.” off of a cue card.

MSN

Microsoft peddles its internet service provider by equating using MSN to having a disgusting person in a blue leotard designed to look like a butterfly follow you around and tell you what to do.

These commercials are faulty because the butterfly man servants never actually do anything you could do on the Internet. They always do things for their masters like getting driving directions or trendy recipes; not one moment of time is spent doing the things people actually do on the internet, like visiting Web sites that cater to fans of multiracial robot-dwarf porn or forwarding videos of a Flash-animated George W. Bush singing that milkshake song to every single other person on the Internet.

Besides, speaking from my own personal experience of using a Hotmail e-mail address, if these indentured butterflies did accurately represent the MSN experience they would blurt out every six seconds, “Hey, I have a message from a girl you went to high school with who has now contacted you; she wants to know if you’re interested in increasing the size of your flesh piston.”

Rating: I could spare about three feet of my colon if it meant I never had to look at another person in blue tights and a fairy costume get information for some loser about local racquetball instructors.

Verizon Wireless

This company, which makes, as far as I can tell, cell phones, thinks it can trick people into buying their phones by convincing them that some jerk with spiky hair and emo glasses is wandering the globe, sans most tunnels and basements, with a cell phone in hand to test whether or not Verizon phones will work in these places. And the surprising results of these scientific surveys are always the same; yes, they can hear him now.

Normally these commercials wouldn’t cause me to offer to give up a good percentage of my flesh in exchange for their elimination; these Verizon commercials might be pretty crappy; but not exceptionally crappy. What makes them exceptionally crappy, however, is the fact that by pretty much the second commercial featuring this dick, the commercials were referencing him as if he were “that famous guy with the glasses and the cell phone from those Verizon Wireless commercials!”

This, of course, tricks the viewing public into thinking that some creep who breaks into people’s phones for the sake of saying “Can you hear me now? Good,” is a national phenomenon that is sweeping the nation, and if they don’t jump on board the bandwagon and start making some dimwitted “Can you hear me now?” jokes, then they’ll be passed up forever.

Rating: I’d gladly give my eyeballs and eight of my fingers if it meant I’d never have to see someone dressed up on Halloween as the douche in the Verizon commercials