Still, the main thing I have against ValuJet is the name. I've got to mistrust an outfit that leaves the "e" out of "value." What are they saying? That it isn't really  a value?

It could be some kind of legal thing, like spelling "cream" as "creme." If a customer complains, "Hey, this isn't a value at all," the representative can respond, "We didn't promise you a Value Jet, sir. We promised you a ValuJet.  If you don't like it, talk to our lawyers."

Bear in mind though, the words "value" and "bargain" are not synonyms. At least, they didn't used to be. Value only means how much a thing is worth. If you buy something for less than its value, then and only then do you get a bargain.

If the marketplace were truly free, value and price would be equivalent. But that's not how it works.

As evidence, I recently found this in Penthouse Magazine (which I only read for the full-page advertisements): "Top Secret Hand-To-Hand Fighting System Finally Released to Limited Number of Civilians!"

This system is so powerful that chubby guys, wimps, and toddlers can defeat people twice their size. It was developed by one of the most "respected -- and dangerous  -- men in the world." He taught the Navy SEALS the system, which can be learned quickly and has 100% effectiveness, 100% of the time. In fact, one video is all you need to gain tremendous fighting skills, including "a strike so natural your grandmother could pull it off against Mike Tyson!"

Okay, the video does cost 39 bucks, but your money will be refunded if not completely satisfied --should you get the snot kicked out of you, for example.

A Dr. R.L. Horine was making this "incredible FREE offer," despite some initial misgivings that this "elite military fighting system" might be "Too Dangerous To Be Allowed To Fall Into The Wrong Hands!" But then a friend of his got beat up, so he decided to do his "damned best to make sure every 'good guy' I can reach never  has to go through what this lovely little lady did."

In other words, Dr. Horine wants to take death-delivering martial arts techniques out of the hands of trained professionals and into the pudgy hands of normal janes and joes. For free!

If Grandma has the ability to send Mike Tyson to Palookaville with a single punch, it might be a bargain  for Grandma, but does it have value  for society as a whole? What are society's warriors going to do once this secret gets out? They'll be standing around on street corners carrying signs reading "Will kayo Tyson for food."

So my question is, "Value? Value for whom?"

The San Francisco Chronicle recently ran an advertisement, disguised as "Golfing News," touting a new golf ball that "flies like a U-2, putts with the steady roll of a cue ball and bites the green on approach shots like a dropped cat." (Sounds like this golf ball could take out Tyson without ordering the video.)

But there's a problem. "In golf you need endorsements and TV publicity... Now, you've seen how far this ball can fly. Can you imagine a pro using it on TV and eagle-ing par-fours? He would turn the course into a par-three, and real men don't play par-three's. This new fly-power forces us to sell it without relying on pros or pro-shops. One way is to sell it direct from our plant. That way we can keep the name printed on the ball a secret that only a buyer would know."

So if you buy this top-secret ball, you'll play like a pro. But if a pro buys it, he'll put himself out of business by making the courses look too easy. Either way, the nameless ball from hell will send golf pros out to join society's warriors: "Will caddy for food."

And what food will they eat? Carl Jr.'s TV advertising campaign insists that a sandwich must drip all over your clothing or it's no good. Surely, if this campaign catches on, it will put neat and tidy professional diners out of business: "Will eat for food."

Even Ronald McDonald is turning pro, or at least trying to project adult sexuality. McDonald's TV ads showed him in a disco, dancing up a storm. Selected soundbites indicated that some women, at least, considered him kind of cute.

All of this retro Travolta behavior was intended to promote the 610 calorie Arch Deluxe. I'll bet Ronald doesn't touch that thing, not if he wants to keep his slim dancing figure. Could it be a plot to take grownups out of the equation via high cholesterol, thus making the world safe for sinister clowns, duffers, karate grandmas and valu?