Introduction to Vemma compensation plan
The funny thing about hatred is that you can only put so much effort into hating something before you realize that the thing you hate is not as bad as you thought it was. This thought entered my mind as I was doing research for this Vemma review of mine for reasons that will become obvious shortly, but as soon as my thoughts had fixed themselves on the ephemeral nature of hatred, my mind immediately went to Oscar the Grouch, the first curmudgeon that almost everyone of my generation ever met. I wondered how many good moods Oscar has had during his more than four decades on television, probably many more than the cameras captured. When I compared my own situation to his, I realized that Oscar probably enjoyed the company of his neighbors on Sesame Street a lot more than he ever let on. At the end of a Sesame Street record (kids, ask your parents what a record is), Oscar gave voice to the Grouch’s Paradox. He repeated again and again until the fade out, “Being miserable makes me happy, and being happy makes me miserable.”
One of the most unanticipated results of my quest to review every multilevel marketing (MLM) business opportunity out there is how much it has put me in touch with my inner grouch. I have always considered myself rather a fun-loving guy, but after I reviewed enough MLM business opportunities, I realized how much of a grouchy spot in my heart I have toward nutraceuticals. Now, you might ask, what is to hate about nutraceuticals? Some people love them, and others don’t have much of an opinion about them, but of all the things you can hate, why nutraceuticals? There are so many other things in the world to hate. Why not hate celebrities? Why not hate partisan politics? Five years ago, or even one year ago, I would have said the same thing. But that was before I realized just how prevalent they are in the MLM industry. By now, I have reviewed so many companies that claim that they will make you attentive, peppy, and skinny and cure your kid’s snotty attitude and your dog’s compulsive tail chasing that every time I read that an MLM business opportunity is based on the sale of “high quality nutritional supplements” or some such, it makes me want to buy a bacon double cheeseburger from Steak and Shake and devour it on the doorstep of a health food store.
Lest you judge me for being such a raincloud about people’s attempts to improve their health, they are just so many companies out there that use an MLM business model to sell products that are hardly any different from your garden variety supermarket multivitamins and SlimFast. Whenever I set about to review another MLM company, I would go to the company’s website, hoping not to find a bunch of capsules, shakes, powders, and gel aimed at your frustrated quest for a physically and mentally healthier you. When the website had finished loading, and I could see yet another page of nutraceuticals staring me in the face, I would first stew in my grouchiness for a few minutes. (You have to admit, stewing in your grouchiness is kind of fun.) Then I would click around on the website, trying to find anything that made the company I was reviewing stand out from the multitude of other nutraceutical MLM companies. Sometimes, I would find out that the company was based in an interesting place like Norway or Idaho, and I would take that as a starting point for my review, but most of the time, I would find out that it was yet another MLM nutraceutical company based, yet again, in Florida, Texas, or Utah.
That would bring me to my next step, the search for a flagship ingredient. Some MLM companies try to dazzle you with goji berry juice, which others attempt to bamboozle you with fish collagen. The flagship ingredient MLM reviews are a lot of fun. It is hard not to laugh at the idea that a fungus that grows in the mountains of China will solve all your problems or that ingesting mass qualities of plankton will turn you into a beauty queen. I became cynical. I hated goji berries. I hated that damn fungus. And I hated plankton, which I now realize is kind of silly, because without it, none of those tasty shrimp I ate in New Orleans would have ever had anything to eat.
And then something changed. I was reviewing an MLM company called LifeMax, which sells vastly overpriced chia, I began to look at flagship ingredients in a new way. The old me would have said, “That’s dumb. Why not just lick a Chia Pet?” But the new me thought, “Chia, like the stuff Chia Pets are made out of? You can eat that? I wonder what it tastes like.” I went to a supermarket and bought a granola bar (if you can call it that, it was on the shelf next to granola bars, protein bars, and the like) made of chia, cashew butter, and dried acai, and it tasted really good. Chia seeds are tiny and slightly crunchy, but they surround themselves with a refreshing, gel-like coating. For the rest of the afternoon, the chia flavor and texture stayed on my mind, and in the evening, I went back to the supermarket and bought a whole box of the things. It only took me three days to finish it.
So now it’s official. I, Brad, arguably the biggest junk food fan in the Midwest, who would choose garlic knots over almost any other food, actually like one of the superfoods that is at the center of an MLM business opportunity. I still wouldn’t pay what LifeMax is asking for it again. So imagine my surprise when I started researching this Vemma review of mine, and I discovered that the flagship ingredient in many of the Vemma products is a fruit called mangosteen. Immediately I wondered how mangosteen must taste. So did everyone else, apparently, but it turns out that mangosteen is very hard to come by here in the United States, and until the past ten years, it wasn’t available here at all.
Mangosteen it native to Malaysia and Indonesia, and it can grow in almost any tropical climate. Today, most of the world’s commercially produced mangosteen is grown in Thailand. The mangosteen fruit is a dark purple fruit with white flesh that is allegedly the best tasting fruit in the world, a mixture of sweet and tart. A Midwestern food critic whose name escapes me said that he would rather eat the fruit of the mangosteen than an ice cream sundae, which is saying something coming from a Midwesterner. For centuries, people have been trying to start mangosteen orchards in the Americas, but it took a very long time for their efforts to get off the ground, since both the fruit of the mangosteen and its seeds are notoriously difficult to plant. The only way to start a new mangosteen grove is to transplant a young mangosteen tree at just the right moment. Until 2007, the importation of fresh mangosteen fruit into the United States was banned. (Nutraceuticals containing mangosteen powder, however, were fine. Whoop-dee-doo.) Canada, however, allowed their importation, because none of the insects that could hitch a ride on the skin of a mangosteen fruit could survive in the climate of Canada. In recent years, mangosteen has begun to appear on the dessert menus of a few very expensive restaurants. At this point, the best chance I have of actually eating a mangosteen fruit is if I meet some old money Chicago intellectuals at Ebertfest and get them so hooked on my stimulating conversation that they are moved to take me out to dinner. A Midwestern garlic knot fiend can dream. But I digress. This is my Vemma review.
Vemma: The Company and Its Products
Sometimes I have been known to end up on a long wild goose chase or, alternatively, a long flight of fancy, about where MLM companies get their names (if you don’t believe me, just Google “A Lukewarm Shout Out to a Reasonably Attractive Fungus”), but the Wikipedia article on Vemma lets you know right off the bat. Vemma stands for “Vitamins, Essential Minerals, Mangosteen, and Aloe.” That was what set me off on my search for mangosteen. The other ingredients didn’t even register, I have reviewed so many nutritional supplements that contain them. While I was reading other Vemma reviews, I came across an interesting term for mangosteen, acai, and these other exotic fruits which MLM companies are fond of implying can prevent or cure everything from ADHD to cancer. I have always thought of these deep red fruits as contestants in a fruit beauty pageant (a freauty pageant?), which the MLM company websites themselves usually call them “super-fruits”, as though they are a subcategory of “superfoods” (which they, to the extent that there is a formal definition of “superfood”), but in case “super-fruits” is too politically incorrect a term for these lovely ladies, the Vemma review I read referred to purple mangosteen and its sisters as “fruiticeuticals”.
The Vemma Compensation Plan
If you have ever read Notebook Crazy or any other MLM review website, you could probably write this section yourself. The Vemma compensation plan rewards you for recruiting other Vemma distributors. The membership fee is modest, but you have to buy an expensive business starter kit ($500, in the case of the Vemma compensation plan) before you can actually sell any products. If you want to be eligible for any sort of payment at all, you have to autoshipVemma products to your home, which means that, in just a few short months, you will have a basement full of meal replacement shakes taunting you about how your chances of tasting a mangosteen fruit in the flesh are getting slimmer while your waistline is not.
Once you have reviewed enough of these things, one MLM compensation plan is rather like another. The Vemma compensation plan has the same autoship requirements and recruitment bonuses as any other MLM company out there. Same old BS, different pretty purple fruit. One thing that is unique about the Vemma company, a thing that has gotten it into its share of trouble, is its reputation for recruiting college students, and even high school students, to be Vemma distributors. I did not graduate from college, but I attended long enough to know that college kids are idiots when it comes to personal finance. And high school kids? What high school kid has $500to buy a business starter kit full of health drinks? There were some kids in my high school who would buy big boxes of Snickers from Sam’s Club and sell them at a profit, and they probably did much better business than 99% of the people who sign up as Vemma distributors ever will. Eventually, Vemma was banned from letting minors be distributors, but apparently some still managed to sign up after the ban with their parents’ permission. I guess there are some parents out there who would rather buy their kids a basement full of meal replacement shakes than $500 worth of bonus lives in a freemium game.
Advantages and Disadvantages
- Since mangosteen has captured so many people’s imaginations, it is bound to capture the placebo receptors of someone out there, as well.
- Vemma bears many of the hallmarks of MLM nutraceutical sleaze, from the exaggerated claims of the health benefits of its products to the recruitment of naïve youth to sign up for its business opportunity.
Mangosteen may be Helen of Troy among super-fruits, but Vemma is still a nutraceutical MLM company among nutraceutical MLM companies, and you would be best to stay away.
Have you actually eaten of the flesh of the mangosteen fruit? Schedule a call with me and tell me about it, and I will tell you how to make your home business profitable.