Sublime / Ridiculous

When looking for the best and worst in the creative field, at least TV advertising saves time and effort. Simply pick a show, ensure it's on a commercial channel and wait for the break. In those few, short minutes you're more or less guaranteed to spot a minimum of one atrocity and hopefully, something quite delightful too.

And so it was last night. At a loss for anything half decent to watch (the channels seem to have abandoned bank holidays to a holding position of sheer mediocrity), I defaulted to '10 Things I Hate About 1999' with Robert Webb. It was actually slightly more amusing than it sounds, but what really stood out was the second commercial break. Embedded in the standard mix of forgettable plugs for anti-ageing gloop and heavily discounted couches, were two pieces of work which managed to capture all that is imaginative, crafted and classy as well as everything that is crass, glib and trite in telly advertising.

Bus stop

When I was a kid, homosexuality bemused and troubled us. I went to a public school and, despite the stereotypes, any boy even hinting at same sex attraction would be inviting ridicule or worse. That's how stupid we were.
Now in middle-age, it's pleasing to note my own kids are much more relaxed. They know gay people, they are fans of gay celebrities and are not at all anxious about the sexual preferences of others. In a generation, the gay rights movement has made enormous progress but total acceptance is not yet a reality - as the recent fuss about two bus banner campaigns shows.

Dead heat. Why The Exclusives is unfair.

Perhaps we shouldn't expect anything more from ITV2 - after all, this is the home of Celebrity Juice, Life On Murrs and The Only Way Is Essex. But while those shows may grate and irritate, they manage to avoid devaluing and trivialising the achievements of others. More than can be said of ‘The Exclusives’, the latest addition to TV's range of alternative Job Centres.

Launching this Thursday (17th May), The Exclusives is a seven-part series which inexplicably gives a troop of six young things the chance to bag a 12-month contract at Bauer Media, publishers of Heat, FHM, Closer, More and Empire. ITV cameras will monitor the contestants (despite claims we are watching internships, make no mistake, we are watching a game show) as they try their hands at interviewing, photo shoots and building articles.

99 problems

Hey sports fans, good news: the Brooklyn Nets have introduced their new monochrome color scheme and logos, as the team prepares for its relocation to the Barclays Center for the next NBA season.

Okay, perhaps not the most exciting information you’ve ever received, but I thought I’d mention it for one specific reason – the new branding had been ‘designed’ by hip-hop megastar Jay Z.

Marketing is dead. Or is it?

Kevin Roberts is the CEO of Saatchi & Saatchi Worldwide and he thinks marketing is dead. He also thinks big ideas, management and strategy are pushing up the daisies. We know this because he told the Institute of Directors Convention at the 02 yesterday.

This would be an interesting position for any business leader, but coming from the big cheese at one of the world’s best known marketing and advertising agencies, it’s a right old jaw-dropper. Could this master marketeer really believe the whole shebang is over and we should all sleeve our iPads and get off home? Possibly – but probably not.

Offloading

Loaded, the title from which all lads mags sprang, is to be sold for the second time in as many years. Its publisher, Vitality, was taken into administration last week, owing creditors £1m and liquidators Cooper Young have been tasked with dispensing with Vitality’s assets. By all accounts there has been some interest in the magazine, but its currency has never been lower.

Loaded’s latest circulation figures show a 30% year-on-year fall to an average of just 34,505 copies. For those unfamiliar with magazine sales, that is not good. Not good at all.

Land of the Free

HM Government and Tesco must have thought they’d found the Holy Grail. In an era of high unemployment and a conspicuous absence of career opportunities, the idea that the jobless could somehow be coerced into working for the ubiquitous supermarket for nothing (excepting benefits) must have caused so much hand rubbing, it’s a wonder there wasn’t a large fire.

Of course, once the giant grocer (and plenty others) realised the shocking damage slave labour would inflict on their brand, they retreated quicker than a worm from a hungry blackbird. But I can’t help thinking the whole escapade was symptomatic of a much larger trend. The closer I look, the more I notice the concept of paying for stuff being treated with contempt.

Facebucks - why Facebook bought Instagram

Last Sunday Facebook surprised the world. Without waiting for their market flotation later this week – and like a big shot investment banker casually ordering the 1900 Cristal Brut – the social network laid down $1b in cash and stock to acquire Instagram.

State of Grace

Twitter can be a bear pit. As a repository for anything that crosses one's mind, it tends to attract rebuttals, rejections, replies and refutations like an old sweet attracts pocket fluff. However, with a bit of luck, judicious following policy and a sensible 'only when sober' rule, Twitter interactions should be no more alarming than mild joshing, light sarcasm and clumsy flirting. But cross the ill-defined line and watch your life fall apart.

Underwhelm

When one reaches my time of life (over halfway by current estimates), it’s important to establish some immutable musical certainties. I now know I will never see or hear a better band than The Clash; ‘Be My Baby’ by The Ronettes is as close I will ever come to the hand of God and ‘Born Slippy’ by Underworld is the worst pop single I will ever hear.

Down the years, we’ve had to endure Jedward, Mr. Blobby and Westlife, so you may think it perverse to pick ‘Born Slippy’ as the absolute low point in popular music, but I am merely calling it as I see it. However, out of respect for the many good folk who adore the record (and there are many), I should explain myself.