Is the 'Snuggie' the death of regular blankets?

For those of you who are trying to wrap your brain around the concept of the "Snuggie," allow me to paint a little word picture for you. Imagine, if you will, that you are a person who enjoys a good blanket. Whether stretched across your mattress catching 40 winks, relaxing in a recliner during your favorite TV show, or resting on a couch while perusing the latest edition of -- let's say -- "Couch Rester's Monthly," a blanket (could be a throw, a comforter, a quilt, or even a crocheted afghan -- you'll find no judgments here) can, and often does, provide great comfort against the environs.

The bold crux of the "Snuggie" advertising campaign, however, has nothing but disdain for that old-fashioned method of capturing heat and holding it close to the body. Indeed, the opening of the commercial (which has aired, in my estimation, about 80,000 times in the last 45 minutes -- and that's just on TBS) features an obviously frazzled and distressed middle-aged woman (who is acting as a stand-in for the viewers at home -- remember this, it's important) and she is unable to demonstrate simple competence when it comes to blanket usage. (In her defense, however, the footage is in black and white, indicating that this is archival material from A Time Long Past, when blankets apparently had only just been domesticated, after roaming freely across the prairies for long centuries beforehand.)

Then the "Snuggie" is brought to our sight, vivid in its color and resplendent in its plushness, and we are treated to the images of relaxed, smiley-faced folks of all ages and sexes, taking particular pleasure in their fuzzy tunics, all the while doing those very things that obviously -- to the sellers of the "Snuggie," anyway -- could be more fully enjoyed by us poor dolts who haven't yet upgraded past unsleeved blanket technology. Indeed, the figures look warm and toasty while reading, talking on the phone, cuddling un-"Snuggied" toddlers, or even casually venturing into potentially awkward social situations during broad daylight. Why, perhaps the "Snuggie" is the ultimate solution to life's discomforts after all!

But wait a second. What about that poor woman who couldn't even operate a non-"Snuggie" blanket? By the advertiser's own logic, even attempting to envelop herself in the more complexly designed "Snuggie" would not do her (who is conversely you, as she's the stand-in for the ad's audience, remember) any favors -- sure, she may succeed in covering the square inch of exposed skin from before, but she could possibly become desperately entangled in the sleeves, or worse yet, be unable to muster the eye-hand coordination necessary to get her arms in them in the first place. Ultimately, this could leave her distraught, unfulfilled and bitter, staring at a crumpled "Snuggie" at her chilled feet, mumbling to herself about how she "hates all life everywhere" and uttering dark curses against a society "that could let something like this (meaning the 'Snuggie,' naturally)" happen to her.

Granted, that's a worst-case scenario -- yes, perhaps even the worst-ever worst-case scenario. But until analog blanket techies stand up to defend the quaint comforts of the old-school comforter (whether it's stuffed with down, cotton bunting or a blend of petroleum-based synthetics), one thing's for sure: the unilateral pro-"Snuggie" advertising onslaught will continue to consume precious commercial space during daytime cable programming, such as TNT's 19 hours a day of "Law and Order" and Comedy Central's awful, awful movie library.

If there is one positive, I must admit that at least the "Snuggie" folks are taking time away from spots for such robust advertisers as Cash4Gold.com, "Debbie Meyer's Green Bags," and the blond-headed skeleton hyping the "ShamWow!"

And the less anyone has to witness any of the assorted "male enhancement" pill commercials that make us all die a little inside every time they air, the better.