The Coker Coler Corperation

Tuesday, May 14, 2002

The Coca-Cola Corporation has been kind enough to include a page on their website that lists all of the different brand names they own. Summarize in just two words, Josh. Okay: Sweet Jesus.

Many of the names we instantly recognize from our years of commercial bombardment: starting with Sprite, Tab, Mr. Pibb, Dasani, and Fanta. And little thanks does Coca-Cola receive for such contributions to Global Culture™-brand global culture. (Where, for example, would your skinny image-conscious aunt be without diet Fresca? On the roof, wailing at the moon — that’s where.) No thanks, that’s what. No love. You buy that diet Coke from the Texaco while you fill up your tank with cool, refreshing CleanSystem3 gasoline — fought for and won by your freedom-loving tax dollars, God Bless America! — but do you tell the cashier to thank the owner for providing you such crisp, caffeinated refreshment? No you don’t. You ungrateful sonuvabitch. What is wrong with you? You peed on the sofa when you you were eight. You copied your friends paper in high school. And you were out having drinks last night with that slut Carla when you told me specifically that you had to stay late and work and here I am at home raising our children while you cavort about. How you justify your continuing participating in our “civil”-ization is beyond me.

Stop crying. Josh is here to help.

Not every brand can be a superstar like Sprite, living in the large house in the Hollywood hills, throwing fabulously expensive parties. Some brands have to go out there and pound the pavement each and every day, ensuring their survival only with the sweat on their brows. To give these little guys the extra help they need, I will go through and select some of the Coca-Cola Corporation’s lesser known brands and tell you about them — give them some of the recognition they so sorely deserve.

In no particular order:

Almdudler. Coca-Cola developed this brand of soda pop to appeal to the children of the English working-class poor. Thick and dark brown, with the unique taste of flat cheap beer and sewage, this product appeals to the deeper belief that hopelessly flopping around in your own sooty filth for a lifetime has a certain undeniably cool cultural cache. How, y’know, “working class.” In 1998 Coca-Cola introduced new Comfort-Grit™ waste particles to the beverage for extra texture. Early marketing campaigns involved characters from Dicken’s novels, but these have since been abandoned since most people don’t read.

Bimbo Break. Here’s the scenerio: It’s Sunday morning. You’re a bit washed out, hung over, and you’ve got to figure out a way to get that guy out of your bed before your roommate comes back home. After cajoling him back into his clothes and out the door — you need a moment to relax. Introducing Bimbo Break. It’s the energy drink that tastes like a cheap wine cooler, but actually gives your body back those salts and electrolytes it so sorely needs after a hard night, with an extra kick of gingko and guarana to get you rolling again.

Drim. This fascinating product, introduced during the mid-50s heyday of space-age consumer product development, can be used as a tiling caulk, stirred into water as a refreshing sugary beverage, or rolled into a ball that can bounce over buildings! Just perfect, I’d say, for the handy man around the house who would like to like to fix tub, enjoy a drink, and keep the kids entertained — but doesn’t want to have to carry a bulky tube of caulk, heavy can of lemonade, and a full assortment of jacks and dice with him at all times.

Eight O’Clock. For years the potentially lucrative early late-evening drink market had been a mystery to marketers. Between the after-dinner cup of coffee and cup of water before bed lay a beverage-free wasteland. Coca-Cola introduced Eight O’Clock into select markets in the late 80s as a flavored drink designed to give the drinker the energy they needed to get through the early late-evening slump. No American alive at the time can forget the television ads featuring James Garner: “I find just a sip of Eight O’Clock gives me the perk I need to get through to bedtime. Mm. Tastes like cigars and rare steak.” Seriously, though. I don’t need to repeat it all to you!

Jesus. I wouldn’t dare make up the fact that Coca-Cola owns a brand called Jesus. Look at the webpage above. Come up with your own joke. Just keep in mind the controversial ad campaign slogans: “Had a tough day at work? Try Jesus!” “Got those weekend blues? Remember: Jesus loves you!” And then, the television campaigns in the late-90s that tried to bolster the waning Jesus sales with a youth-oriented “Extreme Jesus!” line. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. “Now you can save Jesus! Clip the Jesus coupons on each package of Extreme Jesus! candy, and redeem them for fun Jesus merchandise!”

Lactia. Several weeks ago I went outside for a walk at about midnight. Just trying to get some air before going to bed. Ran across armadilloes rooting around in the garden. Turns out we had a small armadillo infestation at the house: every morning dozens of fresh new holes would be waiting for us amidst the flowers and bushes. Our gray shelled friends were having a field-day digging grubs out of the garden. Sprinkling poison on the dirt fixed that. Drink Lactia!

Nihon Alps Mori No Mizudayori. A couple nights ago I had this dream of an elderly gentleman, dressed in a nice, gray, double-breasted suit and cowboy boots, chewing on a cigar, and fanning himself with his wide Stetson hat. As I looked closer, though, I noticed the unusual African tribal patterns painted onto his face in deep brown ink. Lines. Flowers. Points. He chanted: “Nihon alps mori no mizudayori. Nihon alps mori no mizudayori. Nihon alps mori no mizudayori.” When I saw this beverage on sale at the local Tigermart, I realized my brutal destiny.

And that’s all I got.

Play along at home with these other fun Cola-Cola-brand brands:

Love Body
Master Chill
Namthip Water
Pepe Rico
Ripe N Ready
Tuborg Squash
Water Salad