"There are healthy ways to fill the emptiness. Start counselling today."

Below the text is a strange image, featuring a disturbing painting of a young woman drowning in an aquarium.

Facebook has been offering me some slightly worrying content recently, much of which appears to be directed at me and my apparent descent into abject nihilism.

I suppose that's very kind of you, faceless targeting algorithm, but my emptiness and I have grown quite fond of each other. I fill it with food, and it fills me with dread. Symbiosis, wouldn't you say?

Speaking of sponsored content, I don't imagine that it's any wonder so many of us are feeling emotionally under-nourished and mentally derailed. In the absence of meaning, advertising becomes the leading authority on what we want, what we need, and what we absolutely can't do without.

You can't miss this sensational drama! / The product you need to look your best! / Shop now and receive a free gift! / A small piece of your soul in exchange for this toaster!

For such a lonely life, there sure is a lot of noise.

Christmas is over, and eating is grotesque. Unsurprisingly, there is only one solution - chug some caffeine and shit yourself thin.

At least, that appears to be SkinnyMint's idea of a good time. The Singapore-based laxative vendor is truly in its element at this time of year, relying on heavily airbrushed images of the chronically dehydrated and miserably underfed.

"Babes", they're called. And you can be one, too.

Playing on one of the most overused and misunderstood words in the marketing industry, SkinnyMint's "teatox" products will purge your body of excess fluids, while fuelling your brain with an anxiety-ridden shot of cheap, legal stimulants. Cheap for them, of course, not you.

At nearly $30 for a two-week supply, it's one of the finest imitations of food poisoning money can buy.

Indeed.

Cold-blooded, territorial, and almost exclusively carnivorous - it doesn't take a genius to figure out why marketing consultants are so attracted to dragonfly metaphors.

Serving as #motivation for dewy-eyed social media interns everywhere and, perhaps, bumblebees, dragonflies are supposedly the only insect capable of propelling themselves in any direction with all four wings working in harmony. In other words, coordinate your faculties to get shit done.

Alternatively, you can take my approach and allow three wings to flail around in helpless malady, while the fourth makes short work of a novelty-sized Terry's Chocolate Orange. If 2016 has taught us anything, Death will take the try-hards first.

Bonus Fact: To avoid bumping into overly-enthusiastic male dragonflies, females spend most of their time in a completely different habitat. As Wikipedia so succinctly puts it, "unwanted mating is energetically costly for females because it affects the amount of time that they are able to spend foraging."

Spirit, meet your animal.