Some seasonal scrapings from the burnt bottom of our coffee pots. Enjoy!
• Please, please stop trying to give old Christmas carols "hip" and "cutting edge" arrangements. I'm not a purist, it just sounds like crap and never works.
• I'm really tired of indie bands all trying to look like lumberjacks. DUDE. You play a mandolin and you sing about tea cups. You're NOT a lumberjack.
• Q: What' determines if a song is considered "dated" or "definitely of its time"?
A: Whether the person you ask likes the song.
• Definition of frustration: When you go to buy a personalized keychain or mug, and they have every name under the sun, even the oddball ones, but they don't have yours. "What? They have Glenniford and Glenncort but they don't have Glenn??? What the HELL!"
• Most people believe their intelligence is "above average," which is a statistical impossibility. Also, smart elitists annoy me because I keep thinking that, metaphorically speaking, even the smartest ant on the anthill is still pretty freakin' stupid.
• Last night, my seat on the bus was broken and wouldn't recline, so I asked the bus driver to "pop-a-wheelie" the whole way home.
• Never listen to mean-spirited critics. Most of them have no vision to speak of, and since they can't see yours, they only want to tear it down.
• Dear TV and internet: Please stop asking for my "comments" or "feedback" and acting like you care what I think just because some marketing guru told you that you need to be more "interactive" in the era of social networking. You don't care what we think; I don't care what I think; and I CERTAINLY don't care what Joe Blow down the street thinks.
• Definition of irony: Michele Bachman said she wanted to return "character" to the White House. When asked twice (TWICE!) if she meant to suggest that President Obama lacks character she dodged the question while basically insisting she's a straight shooter of character who "says what she means." Okay, so if you're such a straight shooter who "says what she means" why the hell doesn't she ANSWER THE QUESTION?
• Which reminds me, candidates constantly saying that "people are sick of politics as usual" IS politics as usual.
• 2012 is almost here. Hey Def Leppard! That "Armageddon It" song ain't SO FUNNY NOW is it? IS IT?!?!?!?
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Retro-Cool: How Marketing and Advertising Send You on a Bad Trip, Daddy-o
Yes, the retro marketing craze continues unabated! We as a culture continue to concede that no one has come up with any good original ideas in the last, oh, 20 years or so, and as a result nostalgia for stuff we barely had time to forget is currently all the rage.
Take, for example, "Pepsi Throwback," which Pepsico is currently offering for a limited time only (unless it makes boatloads of money, I'm sure). It features the "old school" Pepsi logo and is made with REAL honest-to-goodness sugar! Woo-hoo! Man, you know it's a sad state of affairs when we're nostalgic for the good ol' days when we were only being poisoned with diabetes-inflicting cane/beet sugar, as opposed to the super-high-octane super-concentrated high-fructose corn syrup that infuses everything now.
That's right folks! Hop in our time machine and travel with Pepsico as they "throw you back" (isn't that something you do with a bad fish?) into the mists of yesteryear and rot your teeth the old-fashioned way! Yes, it was a simpler time back then, when no one dared to challenge their corporate masters' concern for the public's "well-being."*
More importantly, I think this trend speaks to a pervasive human weakness - one from which I am sadly not immune. That is, our tendency to romanticize the past regardless of how crappy that past may have actually been. It seems that things we associate with a younger, more innocent time (perhaps a healthier and safer time as well) always end up enshrouded in a glaze of rose-colored nostalgia, regardless of the truth of the situation. It matters not that we eventually learn Pepsi is dreadfully bad for us (or that our favorite TV show actually sucked, or our favorite music is sub-par). The important thing is we were awash in those pop culture symbols at a key point in our development, and hence we still have positive feelings for them.
Most well-socialized Americans will always have a strong affection for SOME token of consumer culture. We try to distance ourselves from these feelings as we get older by using intellectual weapons like irony, but their hold on us will always remain pretty powerful. Coca-Cola, for example, has always trounced Pepsi around the holidays because of the strong connotations Coke has forged between holiday imagery and the sugary beverage.
This is what makes corporate America so insidious and disingenuous: they try to downplay the role of branding and consumer culture in our lives (especially when someone calls them to task on their questionable marketing practices), but not only are they fully aware of the seductive power they wield, they're actively COUNTING on that power in lieu of being allowed to physically force us into buying stuff! You think they spend billions of dollars on PR, marketing and advertising every year because they think they CAN'T unduly influence us?
In other words, Pepsi (as well as the filmmakers who plunder bad TV shows, or the music exec's who keep re-selling us the same music in different packages) know exactly what they're doing when they try to push our nostalgia buttons; they're exploiting an evolutionary glitch that bestows virtue upon whatever sneakers we were wearing the night we first got laid (or whatever).
Even worse, we now live in a "savvy post-modern era" so marketers feel compelled to try and convince us that they're all "in" on the joke by using irony and self-awareness in the same way we do. It's almost like they're saying, "Haha! Yeah, we know this stuff is cheesy crap, but don't you love it? Haha! 20 dollars, please." Hell, as long as we keep buying whatever junk they toss our way they don't really care how we relate to it psychologically.
A particularly egregious example of this trend is the "Enzyte" (male enhancement) commercial. Although it is a recent product, the company's commercial exhibits the worst traits of Madison Avenue's many attempts to co-opt both nostalgia and post-modernism. Ostensibly a spoof of old-time advertising, television, and 50's "lifestyles", the makers of this commercial clearly missed an important lesson: Irony originally gained popularity in the mainstream as a means of subverting, questioning and commenting on the crap our culture constantly feeds us. (And let's not even get started on the type of vanity and insecurity that an ad like this is pandering to in the first place.)
Irony and self-awareness are used to greatest effect when someone is satirizing or undermining some aspect of the subject at hand, not when they're trying really hard to promote that thing! In other words, an exaggerated, cutesy spoof of 50's media works better as a critique of the messages media sends us; why the hell would someone want to buy a product from a commercial that effectively reminds us advertising can't be trusted and needs to be subverted?**
Simply stated, the answer is that all this stuff is just too overwhelming for any of us to think about on a regular basis. Corporate America hopes we'll just be so exhausted by them that we'll "go with the flow" just for the sake of our own sanity. The marketers' goal is to tap into the zeitgeist and then expertly exploit it; they're hoping they can hit a few of the "right notes" (be it nostalgia, irony, self-parody or whatever) and that'll be enough to send us scurrying for the malls. Unfortunately, it seems to work more often than not.
Excuse me one second.... what's that???? Target is selling Pac-Man pajamas??? COOL!!!!!!!!***
*************************************************************
*And by the way, "natural sugar"? Yeah, I know sugar is a natural ingredient, but the connotation of the word "natural" is that it carries some kind of wholesome-y goodness. Is Pepsi health food now? Not sure if belting back 40 grams of the sweet stuff in one sitting really fits the bill of "healthy." I wonder if this is Pepsi's token attempt at "going green" for the year 2010? After all, corporate America has never witnessed a movement they didn't see fit to exploit.
** I'm aware the makers of Enzyte would probably argue their ad is merely a playful "parody" or "affectionate homage" designed to get idiots like me talking. Well, parody or not, the commercial is poking fun at a long-gone era, and as such, it reminds us - however unwittingly - that pop culture and the media should always be viewed with a suspicious eye.
***What a lame cop-out ending. Wakka-wakka, game over.
Take, for example, "Pepsi Throwback," which Pepsico is currently offering for a limited time only (unless it makes boatloads of money, I'm sure). It features the "old school" Pepsi logo and is made with REAL honest-to-goodness sugar! Woo-hoo! Man, you know it's a sad state of affairs when we're nostalgic for the good ol' days when we were only being poisoned with diabetes-inflicting cane/beet sugar, as opposed to the super-high-octane super-concentrated high-fructose corn syrup that infuses everything now.
That's right folks! Hop in our time machine and travel with Pepsico as they "throw you back" (isn't that something you do with a bad fish?) into the mists of yesteryear and rot your teeth the old-fashioned way! Yes, it was a simpler time back then, when no one dared to challenge their corporate masters' concern for the public's "well-being."*
More importantly, I think this trend speaks to a pervasive human weakness - one from which I am sadly not immune. That is, our tendency to romanticize the past regardless of how crappy that past may have actually been. It seems that things we associate with a younger, more innocent time (perhaps a healthier and safer time as well) always end up enshrouded in a glaze of rose-colored nostalgia, regardless of the truth of the situation. It matters not that we eventually learn Pepsi is dreadfully bad for us (or that our favorite TV show actually sucked, or our favorite music is sub-par). The important thing is we were awash in those pop culture symbols at a key point in our development, and hence we still have positive feelings for them.
Most well-socialized Americans will always have a strong affection for SOME token of consumer culture. We try to distance ourselves from these feelings as we get older by using intellectual weapons like irony, but their hold on us will always remain pretty powerful. Coca-Cola, for example, has always trounced Pepsi around the holidays because of the strong connotations Coke has forged between holiday imagery and the sugary beverage.
This is what makes corporate America so insidious and disingenuous: they try to downplay the role of branding and consumer culture in our lives (especially when someone calls them to task on their questionable marketing practices), but not only are they fully aware of the seductive power they wield, they're actively COUNTING on that power in lieu of being allowed to physically force us into buying stuff! You think they spend billions of dollars on PR, marketing and advertising every year because they think they CAN'T unduly influence us?
In other words, Pepsi (as well as the filmmakers who plunder bad TV shows, or the music exec's who keep re-selling us the same music in different packages) know exactly what they're doing when they try to push our nostalgia buttons; they're exploiting an evolutionary glitch that bestows virtue upon whatever sneakers we were wearing the night we first got laid (or whatever).
Even worse, we now live in a "savvy post-modern era" so marketers feel compelled to try and convince us that they're all "in" on the joke by using irony and self-awareness in the same way we do. It's almost like they're saying, "Haha! Yeah, we know this stuff is cheesy crap, but don't you love it? Haha! 20 dollars, please." Hell, as long as we keep buying whatever junk they toss our way they don't really care how we relate to it psychologically.
A particularly egregious example of this trend is the "Enzyte" (male enhancement) commercial. Although it is a recent product, the company's commercial exhibits the worst traits of Madison Avenue's many attempts to co-opt both nostalgia and post-modernism. Ostensibly a spoof of old-time advertising, television, and 50's "lifestyles", the makers of this commercial clearly missed an important lesson: Irony originally gained popularity in the mainstream as a means of subverting, questioning and commenting on the crap our culture constantly feeds us. (And let's not even get started on the type of vanity and insecurity that an ad like this is pandering to in the first place.)
Irony and self-awareness are used to greatest effect when someone is satirizing or undermining some aspect of the subject at hand, not when they're trying really hard to promote that thing! In other words, an exaggerated, cutesy spoof of 50's media works better as a critique of the messages media sends us; why the hell would someone want to buy a product from a commercial that effectively reminds us advertising can't be trusted and needs to be subverted?**
Simply stated, the answer is that all this stuff is just too overwhelming for any of us to think about on a regular basis. Corporate America hopes we'll just be so exhausted by them that we'll "go with the flow" just for the sake of our own sanity. The marketers' goal is to tap into the zeitgeist and then expertly exploit it; they're hoping they can hit a few of the "right notes" (be it nostalgia, irony, self-parody or whatever) and that'll be enough to send us scurrying for the malls. Unfortunately, it seems to work more often than not.
Excuse me one second.... what's that???? Target is selling Pac-Man pajamas??? COOL!!!!!!!!***
*************************************************************
*And by the way, "natural sugar"? Yeah, I know sugar is a natural ingredient, but the connotation of the word "natural" is that it carries some kind of wholesome-y goodness. Is Pepsi health food now? Not sure if belting back 40 grams of the sweet stuff in one sitting really fits the bill of "healthy." I wonder if this is Pepsi's token attempt at "going green" for the year 2010? After all, corporate America has never witnessed a movement they didn't see fit to exploit.
** I'm aware the makers of Enzyte would probably argue their ad is merely a playful "parody" or "affectionate homage" designed to get idiots like me talking. Well, parody or not, the commercial is poking fun at a long-gone era, and as such, it reminds us - however unwittingly - that pop culture and the media should always be viewed with a suspicious eye.
***What a lame cop-out ending. Wakka-wakka, game over.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Come, They Told Me, Rumpa-pum-pum, Rumpa pum-pum, Rumpa-pum- Bappity-bappity-BIPPITY! Crash! Crash ! CRASH!!! Boppity-boppity-BOP-bop-BOP-bop-BASH!!!
Early this morning I was walking around silently warbling “The Little Drummer Boy” like some kind of Bing-Crosby-possessed lunatic and I eventually got to wondering: Is it me, or is drumming NOT really something you’d want to be doing for a newborn messiah? I really have to question the wisdom of this timeless classic.
There he is, sleeping all peacefully with sparkly blue light beaming down on his cherub-like little head, and then suddenly YOU come busting in and go all Neil Peart 2112 on his most-holy baby butt. Does that sound like a good idea to you? You ever wake a NORMAL baby up with some loud noises like drums? He doesn’t smile approvingly at you; he wails his damn fool head off.
And why does the little drummer boy say, “I have no gifts to bring”? He’s got the drum, doesn’t he? What, you’re not willing to give up your most cherished instrument for your LORD and SAVIOUR made flesh??? I can see it now: “Oh, yeah, I know you’ve come to save me from my sins and grant me eternal life, but this is ONE WICKED DRUM!!! I can’t part with this baby; Carl Palmer signed this bad boy during the Brain Salad Surgery tour!!!” I think God might be a little unhappy with that. To be frank, incensed is a better word.
Hey, enjoy playing your drums little drummer boy…IN HELL!!! HO HO HO! Merry Christmas! And take your rhythm section of satanic, cloven-hoofed barn animals with you. Yeah, maybe next time, you’ll be more willing to part with the skins. Not that God is a vengeful god, or anything. He’s just not down with the prog rock and all.
Happy Holidays folks. Rock on in 7/16 time!
There he is, sleeping all peacefully with sparkly blue light beaming down on his cherub-like little head, and then suddenly YOU come busting in and go all Neil Peart 2112 on his most-holy baby butt. Does that sound like a good idea to you? You ever wake a NORMAL baby up with some loud noises like drums? He doesn’t smile approvingly at you; he wails his damn fool head off.
And why does the little drummer boy say, “I have no gifts to bring”? He’s got the drum, doesn’t he? What, you’re not willing to give up your most cherished instrument for your LORD and SAVIOUR made flesh??? I can see it now: “Oh, yeah, I know you’ve come to save me from my sins and grant me eternal life, but this is ONE WICKED DRUM!!! I can’t part with this baby; Carl Palmer signed this bad boy during the Brain Salad Surgery tour!!!” I think God might be a little unhappy with that. To be frank, incensed is a better word.
Hey, enjoy playing your drums little drummer boy…IN HELL!!! HO HO HO! Merry Christmas! And take your rhythm section of satanic, cloven-hoofed barn animals with you. Yeah, maybe next time, you’ll be more willing to part with the skins. Not that God is a vengeful god, or anything. He’s just not down with the prog rock and all.
Happy Holidays folks. Rock on in 7/16 time!
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Eggnog: Coming to Kick Your %#$@$*
I love eggnog, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I think I'd take big gallon jugs of egg nog and pour it all over my body, if it was socially acceptable and didn't cost so damn much. Strangely, I often find that many people do not share my unrelenting enthusiasm for this tasty, viscous beverage. The f*ckers.
Sometimes, I'll ask people why they don't like egg nog, knowing full well their feeble excuses will most likely be more inadequate than the second single from whatever band NME is hailing as "the new Beatles" this week.
After all, who could not like the nog? Are they just trying to f*ck with me? Is that somebody's idea of a joke? Well, ha-freakin-ha. I wonder what else these sickos think is funny. Maybe kicking homeless kids in the street?
Sometimes a person will actually have the sheer audacity to inform me he/she hasn't even TRIED eggnog; that he/she is turned off because of the belief it has raw eggs in it! This is, in fact, a myth. I try to inform these misguided souls there are NO eggs in most store-bought egg nog; in reality, eggnog is derived from the pureed fallopian tubes of the duck-billed platypus, the only mammal to lay eggs, and hence the snazzy moniker. Oddly enough, this tantalizing tidbit of information doesn't create a lot of converts to the eggnog cause. What the hell is wrong with these people?
Let me relay a little yuletide story to give you a better idea how deep my love for egg nog runs. Many years back, Salma Hayek propositioned me at a Christmas party wearing nothing but elf stockings and a long string of popcorn balls wrapped loosely around her torso. Needless to say, I was quite flattered. However, I politely declined the offer, for I had witnessed the Oscar-nominated beauty refuse a big, brimmin' cup of egg nog (garnished with cinnamon, no less) earlier that very same night. Perhaps "politely" isn't the correct word; I actually tossed a large glass of merlot in her suddenly-astonished face (I wasn't going to waste the egg nog), shook my fist righteously, and proclaimed at the top of my lungs:
"WAIT! WAIT! Come back!!!! I didn't know what I was doing!!! Don't leave!!! I saw Once Upon a Time in Mexico 12 times!!! In the THEATER!!! For the LOVE OF GOD, WAIT!"
Eventually, she did come back and we laughed about the whole thing over a couple of tall, frosty glasses of eggnog. Nothing else happened of course, and a few months later she ended up suing me blind for mental cruelty, but DAMN, that was the best freakin' eggnog I ever had.
After hearing this tale I'm sure you can appreciate my fondness for the magical holiday elixir even more.
And if not, then f*ck you.
Happy Holidays!
Sometimes, I'll ask people why they don't like egg nog, knowing full well their feeble excuses will most likely be more inadequate than the second single from whatever band NME is hailing as "the new Beatles" this week.
After all, who could not like the nog? Are they just trying to f*ck with me? Is that somebody's idea of a joke? Well, ha-freakin-ha. I wonder what else these sickos think is funny. Maybe kicking homeless kids in the street?
Sometimes a person will actually have the sheer audacity to inform me he/she hasn't even TRIED eggnog; that he/she is turned off because of the belief it has raw eggs in it! This is, in fact, a myth. I try to inform these misguided souls there are NO eggs in most store-bought egg nog; in reality, eggnog is derived from the pureed fallopian tubes of the duck-billed platypus, the only mammal to lay eggs, and hence the snazzy moniker. Oddly enough, this tantalizing tidbit of information doesn't create a lot of converts to the eggnog cause. What the hell is wrong with these people?
Let me relay a little yuletide story to give you a better idea how deep my love for egg nog runs. Many years back, Salma Hayek propositioned me at a Christmas party wearing nothing but elf stockings and a long string of popcorn balls wrapped loosely around her torso. Needless to say, I was quite flattered. However, I politely declined the offer, for I had witnessed the Oscar-nominated beauty refuse a big, brimmin' cup of egg nog (garnished with cinnamon, no less) earlier that very same night. Perhaps "politely" isn't the correct word; I actually tossed a large glass of merlot in her suddenly-astonished face (I wasn't going to waste the egg nog), shook my fist righteously, and proclaimed at the top of my lungs:
"WAIT! WAIT! Come back!!!! I didn't know what I was doing!!! Don't leave!!! I saw Once Upon a Time in Mexico 12 times!!! In the THEATER!!! For the LOVE OF GOD, WAIT!"
Eventually, she did come back and we laughed about the whole thing over a couple of tall, frosty glasses of eggnog. Nothing else happened of course, and a few months later she ended up suing me blind for mental cruelty, but DAMN, that was the best freakin' eggnog I ever had.
After hearing this tale I'm sure you can appreciate my fondness for the magical holiday elixir even more.
And if not, then f*ck you.
Happy Holidays!
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