Here we go again. Yet another campaign for The National Lottery (TNL), and it stinks. This has been going on for years, of course. If you can stand to, cast your mind back to any TNL marketing, branding or advertising and tell me whether you can recall anything good, or even creatively interesting. Actually, don't bother because you can't.
Friday, 19 September 2014
Apple pips
Of all the things Apple do well, creating a hullabaloo is one of the best. Despite ongoing wars and Scotland's bid for independence, the launch of a new product still performed well in the news agenda on Tuesday. Live from Cupertino, the world's hippest tech company put on a show to rival the biggest movie premiere, presidential inauguration or royal wedding. In terms of global audience, it was an unrivalled success.
But strip away the fripperies and rock bands (U2 played some songs, as if you hadn't noticed), and was all the fuss and bluster worth the candle? Well, almost but not quite.
But strip away the fripperies and rock bands (U2 played some songs, as if you hadn't noticed), and was all the fuss and bluster worth the candle? Well, almost but not quite.
Thursday, 4 September 2014
Rocky relationships
'Love Will Keep Us Together' - that's what the Captain and Tenille told us, and who are we to argue with a naval officer and his good lady? Actually, as Tenille divorced Captain earlier this year, perhaps we could construct a decent argument against their assertion. Indeed, the evidence is everywhere: nothing destroys a friendship, partnership or romance like a career in popular music. For every Ben Watt and Tracy Thorn, there are dozens of Jones and Strummers, collapsing in acrimony, accusation, jealousy and bad blood. What is it about rock and roll? How can such a creatively free and potentially rewarding activity have such a pernicious impact on human closeness? I'm no Relate counsellor, but I'd point to ego, confusion and emotional overload.
Wednesday, 20 August 2014
Reflections on the death of Robin Williams.
Since Robin Williams took his life, around 17,000 people will have done the same. Because of our tendency to filter all human experience through celebrity, and because most of us know his work, our focus has been on Robin.
It was a terrible thing to happen. For the majority it was perplexing and perhaps, shocking. For Williams’ wife and children, his death will have been utterly traumatising – to the extent that the wound may never fully heal. We cannot possibly say what it meant to Robin. A British coroner would state that he ended his life ‘while the balance of his mind was disturbed’, but this is euphemistic. It is just as likely that he took the action in a moment of determination and sudden clarity. Self destruction can be a longed-for release as much as it can be the compulsion of utter despair. We can speculate endlessly; but we will never know.
It was a terrible thing to happen. For the majority it was perplexing and perhaps, shocking. For Williams’ wife and children, his death will have been utterly traumatising – to the extent that the wound may never fully heal. We cannot possibly say what it meant to Robin. A British coroner would state that he ended his life ‘while the balance of his mind was disturbed’, but this is euphemistic. It is just as likely that he took the action in a moment of determination and sudden clarity. Self destruction can be a longed-for release as much as it can be the compulsion of utter despair. We can speculate endlessly; but we will never know.
Why I still don't 'get' Facebook.
Do you remember when Tony Blair said he couldn't use a computer? I
do, because it infuriated me. At the time, he was leader of one the
world's largest economies and democracies, and there he was, smirking
gleefully about the fact that he couldn't operate the most versatile
tool ever created. Quite pathetic.
That's not me. I'm not quite a geek, but I am pretty well wired. I've designed and built websites, can code a little bit, was emailing in the late nineties, was an early adopter of broadband and so on. So, please believe me when I say that, unlike Mr. Blair, I'm no luddite. So why don't I get Facebook?
Sure, I understand what it is, and even have some knowledge of its advertising model. I also have an account, because in the past, various clients expected it. But faced with the site itself, I'd be better off with the blueprints for a nuclear submarine.
That's not me. I'm not quite a geek, but I am pretty well wired. I've designed and built websites, can code a little bit, was emailing in the late nineties, was an early adopter of broadband and so on. So, please believe me when I say that, unlike Mr. Blair, I'm no luddite. So why don't I get Facebook?
Sure, I understand what it is, and even have some knowledge of its advertising model. I also have an account, because in the past, various clients expected it. But faced with the site itself, I'd be better off with the blueprints for a nuclear submarine.
Monday, 4 August 2014
Three score years and ten.
L.P. Hartley’s novel ‘The Go-Between’, opens with the words “The past is another country. They do things differently there.” To me, the memorable past is the 1970s, and at this remove, it feels more like another planet. Albeit a planet I rather miss.
In the mid-seventies, on Angel Row in Nottingham, there was a kiosk. Commonplace in all city centres, kiosks were walk-up shops selling sweets, cigarettes, newspapers and the like. This one was run by a couple of Indian brothers and they sold something called ‘Bengal matches’. Essentially, these were tiny fireworks. As with the familiar red-tipped matches, they came in a stiff card box, but were half-coated in a black substance. On striking they would ignite into a blaze of red, blue or green and burn for ten seconds or so. They were quite brilliant, and I felt incomplete if I didn’t have a box in my pocket. Anybody could buy them, and only the most timid of parents objected. Eventually, some pyrotechnics legislation outlawed their sale, and like that decade, they were gone forever.
In the mid-seventies, on Angel Row in Nottingham, there was a kiosk. Commonplace in all city centres, kiosks were walk-up shops selling sweets, cigarettes, newspapers and the like. This one was run by a couple of Indian brothers and they sold something called ‘Bengal matches’. Essentially, these were tiny fireworks. As with the familiar red-tipped matches, they came in a stiff card box, but were half-coated in a black substance. On striking they would ignite into a blaze of red, blue or green and burn for ten seconds or so. They were quite brilliant, and I felt incomplete if I didn’t have a box in my pocket. Anybody could buy them, and only the most timid of parents objected. Eventually, some pyrotechnics legislation outlawed their sale, and like that decade, they were gone forever.
Thursday, 31 July 2014
Broadly speaking
Other than reckless and reluctant banks, what would you say is the biggest hindrance to small business, in the UK? High rents? Punitive rates? How about broadband?
You would imagine the internet has been nothing but a boon to business, what with the increased efficiency of communications, more flexible marketing channels, and a whole new route to the customer. And of course, in many ways, it has. But, as with all technology, it's essential to keep pace with the competition, and there's substantial evidence to show we are failing.
You would imagine the internet has been nothing but a boon to business, what with the increased efficiency of communications, more flexible marketing channels, and a whole new route to the customer. And of course, in many ways, it has. But, as with all technology, it's essential to keep pace with the competition, and there's substantial evidence to show we are failing.
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