Sara Freder's free horoscope ad

When the ad for Sara Freder's free personal horoscopes first appears on your Yahoo! e-mail page, it's really huge. It's 425x500 pixels, big enough to require scrolling before you can see its bottom half.

So when you're first forming your judgment about the thing, you're sort of constrained to looking at the advert's top part.

A common first thought: a company is offering consumers two breasts, free of charge. This sparks a whole host of follow-up questions: Is there a woman attached to the breasts? Is the woman free, too? Doesn't this violate some laws? Will all breasts ordered come sheathed in the same sort of blue lyrca with white stars, or is that just a sample wrapping?

Too many questions. Time to scroll south, in search of answers. Oh. This is an ad for horoscopes. Of course. The ad is using the ancient Persian astrological symbol for good health: a headless woman wearing a tight American flag bikini.

Or perhaps not. Maybe the ad is making some sort of sly reference to the sort of fortune you've got in store, if only you click on the ad, right now. Ignoring for a moment that there are quite a few heterosexual women and gay men who wouldn't be particularly enthusiastic to know an anonymous flag-wearing tart is in their future, this ad has problems.

For example: Look at the law of averages. Is it more likely you'll find a model wearing an American flag bikini in the commericial media, or in real life? It's about 1000:1. On an average day, 16 commercials, two movie trailers, four edgy clothing catalogs and a raunchy local weather broadcast will feature a model wearing an American flag bikini. On an average year, even with multiple trips to the beach, the number you'll actually see is somewhere between one and zero. Leaning toward zero.

Californians may feel differently about this. You bastards.

So, perhaps the ad is just predicting that there are images of American flag bikini-wearing women in your future. Well, duh. You don't need an astrologer to know that.

But enough speculation. The ad, when clicked upon, takes us to Sara Freder's Free Personal Horoscope page. First of all, Sara Freder looks like this:

Not a good sign. She's clearly pissed off at us already. "I can't believe you clicked on that terrible ad," she seems to be thinking. "You really are a horrible little creature. Prepare to get fleeced, and good."

The site has a whole lot of fields that are obligatory. To save hassle, I'll input the personal information of my good friend Chaim Goldfarb, of New Haven, Conn. He never uses his e-mail, anyway.

Let's see. Time to fill out the forms. Date of birth, yep. Wow, — time of birth, down to the minute? This woman must be a pro. Ah: now it's time for Q&A. Fun.

[X] I would like the chance to win a large some of money from lottery games.

Oh, definitely. It's hard to live in New Haven on an academic's salary... But wait — Goldfarb already has the chance to win a large some of money from lottery games! Thank you, Sara Freder, for showing Chaim Goldfarb the bounty he already possesses! But wait — what's a large "some" of money? Shouldn't that be "sum" of money? Gosh, astrology is complicated.

[ ] I would like to meet the Great Love of my life.

Not so much. Chaim Goldfarb is happily married.

[ ] I would like to find the love that I lost.

No, no. Everything's fine there. Didn't we just have a love question?

[ ] I would like to destroy the suffering in my life and find again confidence in myself.

Goldfarb's the smartest guy in his postal district, and he knows it. No worries there.

[X] I would like to ward off fate, but succeed brilliantly in my life.

Well, shucks. Everyone wants to ward off fate.

"Fuckin' fate! Get out of the house, fate! Or I'll spray you with Off!"

[ ] I would like to say goodbye to solitude, and start a new relationship.

No, everything's really great on that count. Didn't you hear that, Sara Freder?

[X] I would like to know success, how to succeed and how to gain a lot of money.

Oh, yeah. Here we go.

My urgent problem:

I am deluged by junk mail. Even though I never give away my personal information (such as my e-mail address) it always seems like I'm getting on the lists of crazy fringe groups and telemarketers. Help!

[X] Please, keep the above informations confidential.

In college, it's known as "information." But, sure.

Okay. Let's see what happens. "Submit." OH MY GOD! About seven pop-up windows! AAAIGH! Wow. You have to wonder who decides to enroll in Jones International University after an ad for it pops up on a Web-based horoscope service. Then again, they do offer a free $1,000 "scholarship."

Okay. The horoscope won't be ready for up to 48 hours. The implication: Sara's busy, but she will personally get around to the horoscope in the next couple of days. Very, very nice.

Hours pass. Days fly by. Finally, the e-mail arrives.

First: In the entire Free Horoscope, there is no mention of junk mail, the only problem specifically mentioned in my plea for help.

Second: The e-mail offers a Free Personal Horoscope "and a Psychic Reading of your life, which implies a good personal mental help." What? Implies a what? Are they employing baboons as copywriters over at Sara Freder Harmless Novelty Entertainments, Inc.?

Third: "Right away I felt like taking care of you in particular and what I saw really moved me."

Lies. You saw a happily married Jewish academic living New Haven who has a junk mail problem. Find something moving there. I dare you. Chaim Goldfarb dares you, even.

Fourth: "You might be able to easily get over this difficult step in your life which will allow you to experience the wonderful life you have been dreaming of (in which everything will succeed). However, you might also run into some unexpected setbacks while going through this very decisive step. You will then be tempted to continue your monotonous existence until the end of your life without any chance of seeing anything change."

My monotonous existence?! At any point during the application process, was it ever implied that "life is too monotonous" was a major worry? Hah!

Oh, yeah. The junk mail thing. Still. A bit of respect, please.

Fifth: "I can tell that you are a sensitive and fragile human being these days."

Bullshit! Chaim Goldfarb has balls of steel!

Sixth: "Dear, Chaim, I want and I can help you."

This makes almost no sense.

Granted that this is paragraph 36 out of about 90 paragraphs of blather. It's likely that the baboon had grown weary, and its thoughts had turned toward the acquisition of moist tropical fruit.

But, still.

Seventh: THE E-MAIL GOES ON FOR ANOTHER 54 PARAGRAPHS AND SAYS NOTHING ELSE OF MERIT.

Eighth: Okay, except this: "I am first going to send you my magical magnetized photo made especially for you. This will be a unique connection between you, Chaim and me. Every time you will feel the need, you will be able to make an easy connection and efficient communication with me, just by holding the photo in your hand."

A weird, ugly, magnetized, telepathic talking photo? That's not cool at all! That's just creepy! Although it will likely stick to most makes and models of refrigerators.

Verdict: 90 paragraphs of commercial blather. No amusing psychic predictions or analysis. Primates writing the copy.

Thanks for nothing, Sara Freder. You and your damned headless bikini temptress.

— James Norton (jim@flakmag.com)