Commercials are generally transparent. Ads with guys skateboarding off tall obstacles are for men. Ads with puppies in frilly pink dresses are for women. Commercials with robotic, futuristic dogs racing in the desert are for… Actually, I’m not sure what Absolut is thinking these days, but you get the picture.

But then I saw Reebok’s new commercial for their Zig Tech Cross Fit athletic shoe. As I watched the opening seconds, I assumed this was yet another “Girl Power” commercial depicting how female athletes can be just as fit and just as tough as male athletes. And I must admit, I enjoyed watching Cross Fit champ Annie Thorisdottir out-run, squat and lift New England Patriots wide receiver, Chad Johnson. (I still refuse to acknowledge Ochocinco as his legal name.)

After she beats Chad back to the start, an exhausted Annie turns to face another guy, chomping at the bit to take her on in the Cross Fit challenge. Being in the market for some new sneakers, I was all but sold until the last frame of the commercial, when Reebok.com/men flashed on the screen.

Men? I must’ve misread it. How could a commercial that equally displayed male and female forms of the Zig Tech shoe limit itself to just men? After re-watching the commercial (thanks DVR!), I realized I made no mistake.

A follow-up visit to the website confirmed men as the sole target of the ad. I was completely baffled. That one URL took an engaging commercial with mass appeal and made it disjointed and confusing. Reebok cut off half the audience they were inadvertently appealing to. In fact, I don’t even think the ad was strong enough to focus on a male-only demographic.

Let this be a lesson to advertisers: Don’t limit your message’s impact by exclusion, unless exclusion is some sort of strategy like the new Dr. Pepper ads. (Hey, I’m not saying it’s a good strategy.)

We consumers can be fickle beasts. Give us the slightest reason and we’ll abandon your brand like rats from a sinking ship. Snooty, indignant rats.

We know, because last fall when Netflix made a huge mistake and announced its company would split under a new name and pricing structure, we jumped ship along with 800,000 other customers. All in all, prices rose $6 and we turned up our whiskered little noses.

But all that is about to change. Despite how much people think they want that red envelope in their mailbox, Netflix knew all along their rightful future was all kinds of digital. Recently, they started producing television shows that will only be available through their streaming services — not all that unlike HBO in the 80s and 90s.

But will anyone watch?

There’s Always Money in the Banana Stand

Here’s how this works. If you got the Arrested Development reference(s) above, there’s a 150% chance you will become a Netflix subscriber by next summer. And this is the crowning achievement of the company’s new streaming strategy, it’s Sword of Destiny if you will. Original, Netflix-exclusive content, available all at once for marathon viewing.

Cancelled in 2006 despite rabid support from its cult following, Arrested Development is set to stream its long-awaited fourth season all at once through Netflix next year.

With no other way to access the new episodes, Netflix has essentially secured hundreds of thousands of new subscribers between then and now. The move also hedges the company’s bets on its role as an original content provider in a way its other programs couldn’t. (They already have a few originals in the works, including a mobster dramedy called “Lillyhammer.”)

Who knows, perhaps Netflix learned a J. Walter Weatherman-esque lesson. Maybe it’s all simply a magic trick (“Illusion, Michael!”) to distract us from the price hike.

We’re just happy it’s not the final countdown for a show dear to literally dozens of our hearts.

Each year the U.S. uses 17 million barrels of oil just to make the plastic used for bottled water. That’s enough oil to fuel all the cars in San Diego for a year.

So, bottled water is bad. But this isn’t a story about saving the environment, conserving resources or improving sanitation. Well, okay, it is. But that’s not the most exciting aspect of the Evive Station.

Simply bring your Evive Bottle to the station, push the button and, in about 60 seconds, the station will clean and fill your cup with water that tastes like the tears of a glacier. All you have to do is sit there and watch a few ads. Ads that just so happen to be curated specifically for you, based on information from your Evive profile, Facebook and Twitter.

The Targeted-Social-Eco-Advert

According to Tom Petrini, founder and CEO, “The Evive Station is a reusable bottle cleaning and filling station that is supported entirely by advertisements.”

That means the colleges and corporate campuses that install Evive Stations give their constituents the luxury of clean bottles and high-quality H2O without paying a single penny. Advertisers foot the bill in exchange for targeted ads that play as the machine works, but also the “proximity advertising” that plays as the machine sits idle in high-traffic areas.

Viewers can even share these ads using their integrated social media accounts. And lest you think this seem far-fetched, Petrini notes that companies can use the stations to advertise internships, job openings, coupons and deals. The logic and design is so impressive, Evive Station is a finalist for this year’s Pittsburgh Technology Council Design, Art and Technology Award.

For students accustomed to cleaning their dishes in a dorm bathroom or drinking out of a cup that tastes like coffee all day, the Evive Station is a no-brainer. For brands, it provides the ideal message delivery system to specific markets.

Look for Evive Stations to be on about 30 university campuses by the end of 2012. We may even get one for the FG offices — though it might have to be outfitted with a Tang dispenser to keep it within brand.

There’s no denying it, education is getting all kinds of cool. Previously, we’ve profiled Lego-robot workshops for grade-schoolers and video game programming academies for high-schoolers. But this week’s challenger allows you to “learn anything from anyone, anywhere.”

Basically, Skillshare is an online course catalogue for classes ranging from knitting to web programming. Its manifesto is to enable curiosity in every form and that means bringing “teachers” and “learners” together.

Learning shouldn’t just end after school. You probably have half a dozen things you always wanted to do, like learn how to make Chinese Dumplings, use Photoshop or get funding for a startup.

And the best part is, anyone can do it. Post your own Skillshare class right now, for free. Or sign up to learn Pet CPR & First Aid. Because the future belongs to the curious. And the internet has effectively murdered all your excuses.

Burger King recently released an updated menu – complete with salads, wraps and frappes – and seriously, why didn’t they just add the “Mc” prefix to all the items? This is a blatant case of “me too” positioning. And it makes us wonder: why are big brands so hesitant to embrace the challenger mentality and break the mold? As AdAge said, the market leader – McDonald’s – has diluted its brand consistently over the last 10 years. Which means it’s ripe for the picking.

But here’s what happens. Even if they recognize the potential reward, someone within the organization will ask, “What if we fail?”

Guess what, BK. You’re already failing. Worse, you can’t even say, “Well, at least we tried.”

I don’t mean to minimize the fortitude, cost and commitment it would take to turn a brand like Burger King on its crown, but they already spend millions of dollars on advertising.

Wouldn’t those dollars be better spent diverging from the pack rather than desperately trying to catch up to it?

Banging image courtesy of TPollockJR