A HeadOn advertising revolution

First of all, let me just say how thrilled I am for school-wide circulation. As a writer, it is very exciting that so many more people are going to be waking up with my column in the morning; I only hope that as the year progresses, I can come to wake up with more of you in person.

But enough with the clumsy double entendres; that's not why you read The Daily Princetonian. No, you read the 'Prince' for the vital, pressing news stories that affect your everyday life, for the issues that apply directly to you and for the issues that apply directly to your forehead.

By now you've probably seen the commercial for the product known as HeadOn. Aside from airing on every cable channel approximately 3,000 times a day, HeadOn took the World Wide Web by storm, achieving a level of Internet popularity somewhere between that of "Snakes on a Plane" and free pornography. It has spawned numerous spoofs and parodies, most of which are not printable, on "The Daily Show," on "YouTube.com" and, most locally, on advertisements for the Princeton University Band. But before all of this, we had the original.

If you haven't seen it and don't have 13 seconds to spare, here's the ad: a 30-something woman stands against a metallic blue background that is quasi-futuristic, perhaps stolen from the movie "Tron." She rubs a glue stick across her face. Her expression is calm, yet quizzical — the face of a woman who has just tasted an exotic fruit for the first time. ("It's called a papaya, you said?" her arched eyebrows seem to say. "I like it."). And then, cue the now infamous voiceover: "HeadOn: Apply directly to the forehead."

Cue it again: "HeadOn: Apply directly to the forehead."

And just when you think you know the product name and where the said product is to be applied, cue the voiceover one more time: "HeadOn: Apply directly to the forehead."

Now, I'm not one to exaggerate, but this is the greatest commercial I have ever seen in my life. I know that to the novice commercial-watcher, all this repetition may seem a bit excessive. But consider HeadOn's previous slogan: "Should I know about HeadOn?" Now, this strategy leaves three key questions unanswered. First: What am I supposed to do with the product? Second: To what part of my body should I apply it? And third, if I can figure out the answers to the first two questions: When applying this product, do I apply it directly, or do I need some sort of barrier, perhaps a soft polyester, or a chemical-based lacquer? The new slogan makes sense, and repeating the slogan three times makes triple sense.

Also, upon seeing the commercial for the first time, the more naive among you have asked, "I know I'm supposed to apply it to my forehead but for what purpose?" You, my friends, have missed the point. When it comes to HeadOn, as the Office of Admission has reminded us time and time again, the application is all that matters. Except, as opposed to getting into Princeton, HeadOn does not work better if you're good at football.

Despite the initial confusion, since its June 2006 launch, the ad has become a marketing phenomenon. It earned mentions in USA Today, Los Angeles Times, MSNBC and "The NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams." Granted, all of these sources declared the commercial the most annoying thing to happen to television since "Mind of Mencia," but that's beside the point. People everywhere knew what the name of the product was and where it was to be applied. The brand name was everywhere, firmly entrenched in the zeitgeist; in just two months, HeadOn had applied itself directly to the forehead of ubiquity.

But where does HeadOn go from here? Do they start a new ad campaign with some sort of talking animal or foodstuff? Do they hire a celebrity with a more recognizable voice, perhaps a Fran Drescher, to repeat their golden catchphrase three times? I would warn against that. When you have a good thing, stick with it. If I were to change anything in the campaign, it would be to play the commercial more, on more channels. Oh, and louder. If I've learned anything from "The O'Reilly Factor," it's that the louder you say something, the more effectively you're communicating your message.

Finally, to paraphrase every Frank Rich column ever, how does this seemingly trivial bit of minutae affect America in a larger sense? What new HeadOn-inspired ad campaigns will we see in the future?

Bacardi 151: "Apply directly to your damaged liver?" The Wilson School: "Apply directly to Goldman Sachs?" Hilary Clinton for President 2008: "Vote directly for the more relatable, less-polarizing Republican candidate?" Only time can tell how far this advertising upheaval will reach, to what sectors of our universe the revolution will apply, directly or indirectly, to our foreheads or otherwise. Jason O. Gilbert is a sophomore from Marietta, Ga. He can be reached at jogilber@princeton.edu.