Thursday, November 29, 2007
Beatbox in the subway. Watch the guy doing the crossword who keeps his back turned as if he'd rather disappear into the night. Phil Collins never sounded so good.
The Lindy Hop from 1941's Hellzapoppin':
I think they call this joie de vivre:
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
And, leave Brittany alone, too.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Be warned, if your ears are virgins, do not click through--some of the language is a bit rude. I'm trusting most of you speak French, or have at least had it pardoned in your presence, and won't find yourself in need of heart massage. If not, I don't know where you can safely go in this world, but godspeed to you.
"But I am le tired," is perhaps the most perfect line, though I wouldn't fall on my sword for it.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
They haven't launched yet, but Change Advertising Forever is an idea for which the world is ripe. The concept extends the success of the user-generated phenomenon in a fascinating new direction.
Change Advertising Forever will post advertising briefs from companies wanting a swank ad. All comers are invited to submit their own ads. Those chosen are paid $50,000. Cool, huh?
I'm curious to see what the ratio of neophytes to post-neophytes will be. But I'm really looking forward to seeing the work. I'm guessing edgier work. There are no constraints other than the client brief, so it's a very different cubicle of thought.
Ad agencies are an amazing amalgam of metrics, professional bonhomie and a creative product. Usually, these disparate people come together without coming to blows, but it's a sustained balancing act. There's an air of hiptitude that belies the fact that creative advertising is some of the hardest brain work there is. Madison Avenue and its less iconic brethren are seldom as free spirited as we'd like to be.
But in this scenario, it's a creative brief and a creative product, without any other pressures. The clip below tells the story:
Is this the wave of the future? Is that a good thing or not? Will elderly creatives be lunching on Alpo because of clever 16-year-olds?
Of course not. This concept is applicable to a thin stripe of the ad rainbow. Good advertising of a broad scope and lasting sort depends on relationships and expertise.
That said, I think it could be an incredible showcase for giving talented unknowns the chance to get noticed.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
According to this quiz, I'm a benevolent director. Doesn't that sound nice?
Mouse over the color bars for results.
It's a pretty good read on me. Want to take the test yourself? Check it out.
If you're into this sort of thing, some months ago I ran across this personality quiz that I thought was especially fun. You're asked to choose from a selection of images to define various characteristics and that's the raw data they turn into what they call your "visual DNA." Hooey? Maybe, but I liked it.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
4 June 2007
After the storm, my mind cleared.
And a high wind arose and blew the tropics north.
running quartz crystals through a blender.
sand through your engines.
bubbles in your bays.
estuaries reaching out toward forbidden seas…
sand through your eyes.
5 June 2007
Calm as baby’s breath
as peaceful as the storm’s eye
Clouds spread and drawn with rough strokes of stratospheric winds
a warm and windy tropical day.
7 June 2007
Black water at dusk.
Lighting on the horizon.
Warm winds coming in across the darkening waters.
A flash of white wings as an egret takes flight.
And Thunder like God clearing his throat.
8 June 2007
Morning star in the still of the clear, dark waters.
a sky as clear eyed as a young girl.
bruised and tattered storm remnants limp off in the gathering light.
9 June 2007
Tickled her fancy.
giggling all the day long.
pretty good for a Saturday.
Clouds on the lake floating aimlessly by.
She smiled big–grinned really.
12 JUne 2007
A silver sky
ripe for the mirror.
you can not see yourself in this mirror
you can only see others
moreover, you can only see what others choose to expose.
Their houses, their boats, their sea-doos.
Birds skimming low over the water could
like as not
see them selves if they were to look down
as they skim low over the water
but they never do.
Rather they allow their reflections to chase them
quick and sharp over the still, glistening waters
while the bird’s mind remains ever fixed on
food, or other birds, or escaping those damn noisy humans.
A dense forest impenetrable as a gaze.
13 JUne 2007
Like angry bee’s eyes
the metal screen seen through the bamboo blinds.
A million insects dot the lake spreading micro ripples
14 June 2007
Of Fly Catchers and hidden lakes.
Of sleeping lizards and morning dew.
It is of birdsong and misty dawns
and fleeced clouds floating in a still pool.
The waters ripple awake in the gathering morn.
The first water birds head out for the far shore.
20 June 2007
A garden of elephant ears.
A lake of light.
A furrowed sky.
Warm air, tinged with the coolness of a passing shower.
A swath of short green swords with serrated edges.
22 JUne 2007
Of Stone Poets and shattered wooden quays.
Bolts of clay and carpets of mud.
Footholds on pyrrhic shores.
Fusillades of futilty and wars of choice.
23 June 2007
Wind and water.
Stone glass and stone poets.
Air plants and sudden acts of Feng Shui.
24 June 2007
Seaparate ponds like a string of pearls gleaming in the twilight.
The ages of man, the lovers of a lifetime
bright and shiny thoughts flickering like little fires banked against the great dark.
The toothy smiles of a pretty woman or two.
Events and ages the like of which will not be seen again.
Claim yourself, Poetry! Who you be?
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
She runs down the ways the major networks have gone from hand wringing to high fiving the many compliments it's received from the great www. They've realized the sincerity of this particular form of flattery and have moved from litigating to monetizing.
I'm so happy for everyone. Happy. Happy. Happy. But then there was a bit about the depth of demographic information suddenly available to data miners. While I'm always happy for every bit of this kind of data when I'm developing a campaign, as a consumer, it creeped me out.
... CBS brass are as intrigued by how much the electronic connection of the Web will allow them to study their consumers in granular detail. Do "CSI" fans also tend to like Avril Lavigne? Do "America's Next Top Model" viewers spend more time on fashion-oriented Web sites? The marketing and sales potential of the kind of demographic and audience profile data that can be built on the back of every download is astounding, Smith says.
You may look at my chunks, but my grains are private.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
It's called "Minilogue: Hitchiker's Choice" by an artist cryptically named "kristoferstrom," via YouTube:
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
A regal bald cypress, this poor tree has an enormous carbunckle (I'm making things up now, but you know what I mean) at its base, probably three feet square. Like some of your better driftwood.
The next photo was just fine straight from the camera, but I used the Orton Effect in Photoshop. This technique is all over the Internets, it's basically a blurred multiplied layer atop a sharp layer that gives a wonderful glow.
Bald cypress are one of the few deciduous conifers. Like an aspen, its leaves turn a golden yellow and gently fall like so many soft feathers. A noble tree.
The shoreline of this little stream is lined with incredible stones, like the kind you see on Peuget Sound or maybe one of the Great Lakes. They're wonderfully round and richly colored. Lots of granite and quartz. I think I even found some very dirty amethyst.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
In the past year I must have interviewed about 80 people – writers and artists. Many of them were from the so-called giants of the agency field. It was appalling to see how few of these people were genuinely creative. Sure, they had advertising know-how. Yes, they were up on advertising technique.
But look beneath the technique and what did you find? A sameness, a mental weariness, a mediocrity of ideas. But they could defend every ad on the basis that it obeyed the rules of advertising. It was like worshipping a ritual instead of the God.
Genuine creativity will never be a commodity. It's damned hard work to do it well, and it makes your brain ache. 90 percent of writing is the not-writing, brain bleeding foreplay. Another gem from Walter's site:
“Writing is easy; all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forehead.”
- Gene Fowler
Well done. A new favorite.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Friday, February 09, 2007
This band formed of erstwhile and employed big time musician's-musicians in NYC. They faithfully reproduce Beatles music (kookookoochoo), live. Between their obvious scholarship, mastery, spookily-skilled voices, and that indefinable energy a live performance delivers, these guys brought it home big in a big way.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Monday, January 01, 2007
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ Huffington Post, written by that genius, Steve Martin.
Oh, my Saddam, how I loved your funny little ways. The way you held your teacup; the way you enjoyed those who coaxed a smile from you. I love that you found a way to exist in this mixed up world, how you thought, "why be mean when you can be nice?" Saddam, I will miss the way you would point to someone and then they would be dead, the way your puppy Pluto became a rug.
Your loyalty to family is rare in our times. When your half-brother was assassinated, Oh how we wept for you, thinking, what a terrible accident this assassination is. My Saddam, I wish we had more time with you, to find out what makes you tick, tick, tick. How your golden toilet seat will miss you!
You loved to laugh! Not many people know how to do that anymore. Real laughter doesn't come from sit-coms and comedians, real laughter comes when someone bows before you, accidentally stumbles, and then is beheaded. Especially on a staircase. Heads will roll, ha ha! Oh Saddam, if I had you back for just one moment, I would ask, if you could shoot just one person in the back of the head, who would it be? I wish it were me!
Who can deny your gifts? Your novel, so romantic and sweet. I'm sorry it was only published in Arabic and read by your friends. What a waste. And your glorious gesture for peace, the symbolic lighting of the Kuwaiti oil fields!
And now you are in heaven. How the trumpets must be sounding. A life, perhaps imperfect, but pure in motive! The world might have lost one affable curmudgeon, but heaven has received him. Saddam, enjoy the hosts of souls waiting to see you on the other side!