So naturally, shortly after our snout-moth-upstaging of man bristle and their Whisker Wars, the realm of human advertisemental imagination gifts us Heineken Light by way of a facial hair muse: the handlebar. It’s a classic by now, but I always wonder if handlebar mustaches were considered inane when they were more in fashion (assuming they were ever really in fashion). But before I digress, let me return to the digression at hand: in the commercial, we are led back into that secret chamber of masculinity, where handlebar mustaches, Mr. Wolfe tells us, are “not right for every occasion.” Unless. And here is where the door opens (and quickly closes) on the secret chamber, apparently, for, much like the perfectly clandestine bare-knuckle boxing match, the handlebar is essentially manly—and all the while being ridiculous! This not quite paradox but uncomfortable juxtaposition of virtue and farce appears to be the 21st century man’s plight (and somehow there must actually be women, beautiful or not, with mustaches tattooed on the sides of their fingers. Mustn’t there be? To make it bearable?). Not surprisingly, the bugs have outdone us again. They see our handlebar and raise us one mystax: the term for the bushy cover on the visage of the robber fly pictured above. These hairs help to protect this predator from any prey that might have the idea to fight back (I can imagine how painful a bee sting in the face is, but not in a bug face). I will let others delve into the phallic innuendos abounding in the advertisement, but on bottled beers and bug proboscises, I have to iterate that the little Light one is under the handlebar.
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