It is interesting how much quackery is alive and well in this day and age. On the way home yesterday I was sitting in traffic and zoning out when I spied out a sign stuck in the sand next to the road. It was one of those cheap mass-manufactured signs that sprout up like mushrooms over night and then vanish a few days later. It had a white background and in bold red letters it proclaimed:
QUIT SMOKING LASER (Weight loss too)
I actually read the sign three times before I confirmed it actually said ’Quit smoking laser’. For some reason my brain could not wrap around the concept. The only thing I could think of was a monkey dressed up in a spaceman spiff outfit that follows a person around, and when they person lights up a smoke the monkey starts hooting and chattering and whips out a laser gun and shoots the smoker in the ass. The ’weight loss too’ was sort of odd as well because it was added as almost an afterthought, as if it was a side effect of the quitting smoking treatment.
Curious, I decided to look it up on the web. Apparently there are a number of clinics that do this. This is how one explained it: How does it work ?
When the pulsating light of the laser is applied to certain acupuncture points, it is absorbed by the skin and cells to stimulate the endorphins that help block out the cravings while leaving you with a feeling of well being.
The explanation there was enough to make me groan. So it is actually a form of acupuncture. But simply sticking people with needles is not enough; this is a high tech form of acupuncture. Wow, lasers, how futuristic! It must work. I also like how the ’pulsing light’ is ’absorbed’ by the skin. What? What is your success rate ?
Europe is currently showing an 90%+ success rate. LaserCare and its affiliates are enjoying an 85 to 90% success rate in the U.S. We guarantee if you do what you are instructed to do, you will Quit Smoking!
Wow, a 90 percent success rate. You think that would be national news. I like the ’if you do what you are instructed to do’. It probably goes: 1) Pay Us 2) Quit smoking.
Indecently, the single 30 minute treatment cost about $400. $400 to have some lights flashed at the soles of your feet. And to be honest, the outrage I feel is not that they are doing this and getting fools to pay them…but why aren’t I getting fools to pay me?
2026 Update
Dialing the machine to March 2008, where Ed is stuck in traffic and three reads away from discovering his future as a laser-monkey franchisee.
Oh, 2008 Ed, you sweet roadside archaeologist. Look at this artifact: a cheap sign jammed into the sand, promising miracles for four hundred dollars in cash. Back then, quackery still had a physical address. You had to sit in traffic to find it, squint at faded red letters, and then go home to verify it on the family computer while the modem made its little whale noises. Now the nonsense finds you, beaming straight into your phone between videos of someone reorganizing a pantry. The laser clinic wanted one lump-sum payment for a half-hour of foot light; today the same confidence sells as a subscription, with an app that tracks your breathing and calls itself wellness. You also had to take their word that Europe was seeing 90% success. Now you could get ninety testimonials before breakfast, each more suspiciously perfect than the last. You groaned at the science, and rightly so, but the real tragedy is that you didn't slap a QR code on a sign and start building your monkey laser empire. Infinite growth beats one afternoon of feet.
“2008 Ed, after all that mockery, did you ever call that number just to ask if the laser could also vaporize the part of you that keeps reading signs three times, or was four hundred dollars simply too much to spend on your own future blog material?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2008 Ed: So, Beelzebubba, you know damn well I didn't call. Four hundred bucks to ask if their laser can vaporize the “reads signs three times” part of my brain? Hell, I can get that same effect free by staring at a microwave clock too long. And honestly, if I called, they’d probably put me on hold, play some smooth jazz, and then try to sell me a package deal for my weight loss AND my lingering roof-fall paranoia. My imagination already gave me the monkey with the laser gun, which was better than anything their pulsating light could offer. Plus, I figure if I ever did get vaporized in that particular spot, I’d just start reading signs four times to be safe. So no, I kept my four hundred dollars, bought cheap beer and cat food, and went back to mocking quacks from the comfort of my own driveway. Take that, pseudoscience.
