The recent tsunami in Southern Asia was one of the most devastating natural disasters of our generation. By now we have seen horrific images of the carnage wrought there and heard heart-wrenching stories of entire families being decimated. We have also seen countless stories on the nightly news of the heroism of those who sacrifice their time, energy and safety to volunteer for the relief effort.

But there is one story that has gone untold, been ignored and neglected and needs to be recorded in the annals of time for future generations to appreciate this catastrophe. I am, of course, speaking of the tsunami’s impact on the world of corporate advertising.

I don’t just mean like how any deodorant company that uses the word “tsunami” to describe its cool breeze scent will have to come up with a different vaguely descriptive weather pattern, lest run the risk of appearing insensitive. I am specifically referring to the way corporate pitch-whores have been affected by the tsunami.

I was feeling particularly despondent about the lack of media coverage regarding Mr. Whipple’s opinion of the tsunami, or what percentage of Cap’n Crunch’s paycheck he plans on donating to the relief effort, or whatever. I mean, they ask that kind of crap of professional athletes all the time, and I think I can seriously say Cap’n’ Crunch has had more of an impact on my life than every single player on the Portland Trailblazers combined.

Then one day, I was perusing OfficeMax’s Web site for personal reasons (hey, if I’m looking at saucy pictures of three-hole punches then that’s my business and you have absolutely no right to judge me) when I noticed a banner ad for the tsunami relief fund. I didn’t think much of it at first, because there are similar ads on pretty much every site on the Internet.

There are probably similar ads on Web sites that offer to sell you mail-order monkey brides from Russia that you can marry (because they want citizenship, you see), so seeing one such ad on the OfficeMax Web site didn’t stand out too much to me.

Not that I’ve ever tried to order a mail-order Russian monkey bride before, I’m just saying is all.

But something about this ad seemed strangely familiar, and not just because I had seen a similar one while placing an order to have my beautiful wife Bobo the orangutan shipped to me in a crate. This ad on OfficeMax had a headshot of a survivor of the tsunami and a quote from his testimonial, and he looked really familiar.

Upon further investigation, this tsunami survivor was Eddie Steeples, an actor who happened to be in Thailand at the time of the tsunami. Steeples, who has acted in numerous independent films and appeared in the 2004 steaming pile of a movie “Torque,” is most famous for his portrayal of the guy who tries to convince you to buy stuff at OfficeMax in their commercials.

You see, Steeples is famous for his role of the funky, afroed magical office supply clerk who wheels around his pimped-out office-supply cart and flings rubber bands and back-to-school supplies at those who need rubber bands and back-to-school supplies.

The most recognizable features of Steeples’ character are his supply cart, which is decked out with several rear-view mirrors and a big-ass rubberband ball, and his afro, which appears to be missing a chunk and looks like a pie which somebody has taken a single slice out of. Oh yeah, THAT guy.

Now I’m sure that guy has a very exciting life, and he is free to vacation wherever he wishes, but what the hell was the guy from the OfficeMax commercials doing in Thailand? Did he have to jet over there to make some emergency commercials because OfficeMax’s Thailand franchises were having a sale on whiteout?

Regardless of why Steeples was in Thailand, he was there when the tsunami hit. According to the OfficeMax Web site, “Initially believed missing, Eddie [Steeples] was able to escape harm by quickly moving to nearby mountain areas. With scarce food and supplies, Eddie became ill and was treated by relief workers.”

Do you know what this means? This means that you can now safely say the phrase, “That guy with the rubber-band ball from the OfficeMax commercials is basically a hero,” without being called retarded.

As strange as it seems for someone as inconspicuous as the funktastic supply clerk from the OfficeMax commercials being right in the middle of something as devastating as this tsunami (seriously, why the hell was he in Thailand?), there is actually precedent for this kind of, um, thing (company spokespeople being forever linked to catastrophic tragedies).

You think I would make this up? Well first: Shut up. And second: How dare you! With even a little bit of the most rudimentary research (what I think I would probably get if I searched Google) one finds a plethora of examples of corporate shills being at ground zero during natural disasters.

For example, did you know that the Crash-Test Dummies were driving on a freeway in San Francisco in 1989 when the massive earthquake struck? Or that the Kool-Aid Man was trapped under a metric ton of mud from an El Niņo-induced mudslide? Or that the Quaker Oats guy was onboard the Lusitania when it sank in 1916?

I was going to cite some entries from Mr. Peanut’s diary from when he survived the massive, post-World War I Spanish flu epidemic, but I thought I would save you all the trouble of having to read, “My blood-and-pus-soaked monocle flew off my shell as I retched forth another load of vomit; whereas previously it had all been chunky-style vomit, this particular upchuckment was smooth and creamy style."