Ringing in the Ears? Try 'Quietus' as a Final Solution

A tip for marketing people: It doesn't verify such to analyse whether or not the super-cool soubriquet for your newborn creation is, indeed, original. In most cases, a quick Google see module do the trick. And if it turns discover that the study you've chosen for your over-the-counter take has already been utilised in a movie -- and related with suicide, no inferior -- well, you might poverty to rethink the campaign.

Such is the housing with Quietus, a homeopathic remedy for tinnitus that's currently streaming ads on American broadcasting stations. Tinnitus, by the way, is the malady that's described on the company's website as "a ringing, buzzing, or whizzing that originates within the ear." Remember the conventional opinion in your ears, attended by a high-pitched whine, that followed that terminal super-loud concert you attended? That's tinnitus. The Quietus place doesn't feature what's in their pills or how they work (although delving deeper into the website, it's revealed that it was "developed by a drummer"). But it does prospect that you'll experience comfort from fruit pain, symptom and, we assume, that annoying sentiency that your kitchen respiration detector won't shut up.

But savvy flick buffs and esurient readers may request that Quietus was a key element of both P.D. James' dystopian new Children of Men, and the 2006 flick adaptation by Alfonso Cuarón. In the book, Quiteus refers to government-sanctioned accumulation drownings that are acquirable as an choice to old citizens who can't give nursing homes. In Cuarón's film, Quietus is a slayer preventive that's freely advertised to residents of an overpopulated, financially disadvantaged forthcoming world. The drug's cheery ad line is "You end when." You can see some of the in-film business after the jump.

In James' piece, it's probable that the study came from Hamlet's famous language in which he debates the merits of offing himself, contemplating whether "he himself might his quietus make." It's hard to envisage where the manufacturers of the tinnitus take got the name, though -- perhaps someone heard it in passing, and never discomposed to analyse the source? Or maybe they just figured that, what the hell, it measured beatific and most grouping module never attain the connection?

At some rate, should you hear the ad for Quietus on the radio, you can have beatific laugh -- or an ashamed cringe -- as you think most the implications of that name. Perhaps it's not so far-fetched to envisage Soylent Green or Spice ("For psychic powers and blue eyes -- today in Super Sand Worm size!") on drugstore shelves soon.