Celebrity endorsement trash.

Why would anyone think that celebrity endorsements make sense?

Will I be able to drive like Schumacher by buying a Ferrari? Ride like that shyster Lance Armstrong on a Trek? Play like Tiger with those clubs?

So I weep when I see a truly great actor like Kevin Spacey touting a camera in one of the most condescending ads made in recent memory.

The one thing we do not see is Spacey’s pictures. Why not? I mean, he is advertising a camera, no?

The inverted snobbery (“Don’t be a tourist”), the denigration, the put downs – it’s all about as wrong as you can get. Tell me that the camera is sweet and elegant like almost everything Olympus makes, fits in your purse or pocket, encourages you to take it anywhere, makes for glorious pictures, and I am there. Tell me I have a shot at being the next Doisneau or Cartier-Bresson with it and my check book comes out. Tell me it’s what Bailey uses before making out with his latest discovery and I’ll buy two.

But where, pray, Mr. Spacey, are your pictures?

Frank Rich of the NYT writes eloquently about the credibility of another celebrity endorser:

“What’s striking instead is the exceptional, Enron-sized gap between this golfer’s public image as a paragon of businesslike discipline and focus and the maniacally reckless life we now know he led. What’s equally striking, if not shocking, is that the American establishment and news media — all of it, not just golf writers or celebrity tabloids — fell for the Woods myth as hard as any fan and actively helped sustain and enhance it.”

Why, then, should I buy a camera from you, Mr. Spacey? At least Tiger can play golf, but I haven’t the foggiest idea if you can take a photograph.

Olympus, you can do better. Start by paying someone who can take pictures. I don’t much care if he sleeps around – that’s his business, not mine.