R.I.P. = the United Colors of Terror

According to the Department of Homeland Security, the beloved, trusted Terror Colors are being retired this April.  This attempt must surely go down in history as one of the strangest ad campaigns in American history.

The principle was solid-enough:  assure citizens, illiterate or not, of their risk of random death/injury by a color chart.    "Today's a red day, kids.  No kisses until I see kevlar on mommy's little bunchkins!"

Now, the chart was a sincere attempt to inform but it lost any credibility when NO ONE saw a GREEN DAY.  Sweet Jimminy - did anyone ever see BLUE?!  Geez, I don't think we ever left Orange!  Maybe you were like me, staring wistfully at the color chart while TSA went through your stuff, dreaming of those carefree GREEN days as a kid, running through the meadow with your best friend Chip and his dog Shep...

But, I guess with the passing of this silly system, I truly mourn the ability to bid on the job on the first place.  Maybe I'm crying sour grapes because they didn't like MY idea.

It was better, don't you think?

It's not even funny.

The YouTube above is...not funny.

Gawd, I wish it were merely some ill-conceived ad or marketing gizmo. But it isn't. It's 2:25 of incomprehensible ramble. Kind of like listening to a small-town drunk rave about Plato's Republic between burps.

If anyone can make sense out of this blown fire hydrant of gobbledegook, they should write on their driver's license, "Donate my brain to Science."

(sigh)

Every time a copywriter tortures words, baby kittens cry. And not just any baby kittens - the really, really cute ones with rainbow hearts that heal sick orphans and fart pixie dust.


I promise the next post will be funny again.

More reason to fear the Chinese.

It's cool to get a new client that makes toys (Yay!).  It's another when that client turns out to be one of them-there sweatshop counterfeiters who don't even care!

Numma #1:  My Little Pony made $1.2 for Hasbro last year!

Numma #2:  He he he.  Not THIS year!  He he he!  Call the Dollar Stores, we've got ten containers on a ship headin' for L.A!

"MommeeeEEE!  I want Love Shine DemonDonkey!  With the Spectral UniHorn!"

Geez.  With all the unemployment in the USA right now, you'd figure SOMEONE would answer a want ad:  Wanted - copywriter to make sure our product names don't suck or frighten.

The Right Choice.

The ad above was ripped out of a December issue of...dangit!  I can't remember!   Probably, I was so stunned by altruism and righteous authority of the Kellogg Company.

Kinda like when Gramps bought me that bottle of Crown Royal® for my fifth birthday.  "Top shelf, kid. All the way!"  And you know what?  He was right.  The hangovers just disappeared.  Poof!   Plus, I had a cool purple bag to barf in.

So, to all good parents out there, wrastlin' with that Moral Dilemma in Aisle 4, the choice is simple - plump the little gobblers with Pop Tarts™ and pat yourself on the back.

"Kids, this year, the Johnson's are BAKED, not fried!"

But, you know what happens when you try to serve Health Food - they'll be back to Toaster Strudel... they always come back (cue creepy organ music), they a l w a y s come back (mwaha ha ha ha ha!). 

Happy New Year! And remember - the Emperor is still naked.

Happy 2011!  Another year, another chance to be redeemed of all the lessons from the Holy past.  This year, let it be the lesson of Hubris.  Or, as one of my Mentors calls it, "The Bullsh*t that fools itself."

Anyway, I thought the ad above might be a good one to kick off 2011's Sadvertising season.  It's circa 1973.

Geez.   I tried to palm off my first-gen iPod shuffle onto my 9yr old and she shuddered in revulsion as if I were dangling a dead lab mouse by the tail.

But I have to respect the copy - "It also has mixing controls that let you mix two sound sources - for instance, your life story, narrated by you against background music."

Gawd.  How crushing would THAT be, eh?  Maybe a couple shots of Old Granddad and I'd start thinking my life story would warrant background music.  But wow - what a mental picture!    Ha.  I'm thinking Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries.

Anyway, good-year to everyone and as always, Be Careful with the Copy.  And watch this space - I've got a box of great stuff to post (thanks to ya'll).

NOTE:  Geez.  The Sadvertising Police have spoken; my grammatical error has been captured and killed.

The Hell Panda! Merry CHRISTMAAAARRRRGH!

Is a product "Sadvertising"?  Yes.  It is when it scares the wits out of your child.

This little gizmo found its way into Thing 3's stocking.  A cute little Panda keychain (Thing 3 owns no keys, btw) with - what's this little button here?  Let's just push it...

WWLAAAAH!  WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!  Possessed Panda from the Underworld!?

"Daddy!  Make the bad Chinese exporter stop!  Make him stah-ah-ah-ah ahhhhhp! (inhale, WAHHH!)"

Or maybe it's a carefully disguised self-defence device.

Anyway, this piece of evil has got to go before Thing 2 figures it'd be fun to sneak to school and freak out the playground.

What happens in the Caymans, stays in the Caymans.

The scan above is an ad taken from last month's Redbook(?)  Of course, the ad is to promote tourism to the Cayman Islands.

Aside from being grammatically incorrect*, the headline promises: "Where once in a lifetime happens everyday."   I hope not.

Firstly, swimming with Stingrays is pretty cool.  For having the ability to kill Wildlife Experts like Steve Irwin, they're rather professional and only envenomate people when molested.

So, why does it appear that Mom is getting zapped out of her mind because of Dad's reckless and (in many countries) deviant behaviour?

I guess for the two kids, the Caymans will live up to the promise.  Dad's in jail for life and mom's in a coma.

*Every day.  Two words, not one.

Chocodooby. My Christmas gift to Ad People.

The ad above is an old one, but I still remember the first time I saw it years ago.  Since then, I've been jamming pipe cleaners soaked in gasoline through my sinuses in an effort to clean my brain.

Naw.  Just kidding.   This is my Xmas gift to all in the Biz who are struggling right now with that Genius idea and the Faith that the client will buy it.  Rise up, oh hopeless, oh cynicized, oh beaten-down Creatives.  It can happen.  You can sell anything you set your mind to.

Including a giant gibberish-speaking testicle that sells food and toys.

Thank goodness Europe has socialized medicine.  If this would have aired-big in the United States, it could have brought down the system in a single "Weeeeeee!"

"Doctor!  This...this...this horde!  They keep clawing at their eyes!  What do we do?!"

"Barricade, nurse.  And head to the heliport, stat!"

PS - Kinder Eggs® are the BOMB.  And I want that airplane.

A big drink of Cigar Box

A sadvertising reader sent this to me.  "Do wine descriptions count as Sadvertising?"

Sweet jimminy on a stick, they sure do!

Melange Noir - 2007


Tasting Note:  Aromatic ripe berries and spice marry with light cedar notes.  A well rounded palate of black and cigar box leads to lingering tasted oak on the finish.


In other words - this plonk tastes like burnt wood.  Order the Crown & Coke.  There should be a licensing process before allowing people to use words in public, don't you think?

"...black and cigar box leads to lingering..."

[slaps forehead]

[again]

Thank you, sadvertising reader!

A BLAST to your FACE! Yeah!

The scan above is a direct mail piece I received yesterday.  It's for a new Schick® razor that I'll be trying tomorrow morning, for free!  Yay!

But don't be surprised if I'm forever changed by the experience.  In fact, I'm a little scared (but I'm going through it because Fear is bad and it's not going to cost me any money).

Poor Schick® - they've struggled at being #2 to Gillette forever.  Maybe it's the lack of slotting fees, vibrating blades or Sicilian connections but it sure isn't lack of trying, hence the giveaway.  And I'm "in" - the kids have been warned that this afternoon is "Trip to Target® day!  Yay!"  (collective groan response).

Or it could be their weird Creative.

Firstly, their slogan, "It's like a blast of hydration to your face!™"  This has to have been thunk up by women because to a man, a blast of hydration to the face is followed by a charge and a right hook to the kidney. It's the law of summer water fights.  And any self-respecting man who rubs his cheeks after shaving complaining of, "Hydration issues" is probably too weenie to be trusted with sharp metal anyway.

Bah. I know a man who spent a week in a WW2 jungle and he shaved every day using a dull razor, skin oil and rain water.  I can only imagine the dumbfounded stare he'd give me if I asked, "Bill, how did you deal with facial hydration while you were behind enemy lines?"

Weirder yet is the ™ mark - clearly, some Creative Director thought, "No one's gonna steal that slogan from us, it's just too good!"  Good luck on the "blast to face" brand extension.

Anyway, secondly, the OTHER slogan is even more thought provoking - "Free your skin®."  This one is ® too.

Mirror check.  Stare deeply at our parched cheeks and repeat after me:  "My skin needs to be freed."  From the rigid confinement of muscle tissue?

I guess those Schick™ razors are pretty sharp!

Maybe this is where the Hydration comes in?

Note:  A Sadvertising reader - a 90 year old man, no less, just responded to me with this:

      

One day I read where using water was just as good and a lot less expensive.  Remembr, I grew up during the Great Depression.

Well, I started shaving in the shower with water pouring over my face keeping it real wet as I made strokes with my razor.  It worked.  No pain.  Good shave, no delayin trips to the hotel gift shop.  I still do it.  I have not used any kind of shaving cream i in 50 years.  Also,  I dry my razor after using and change blades about once a month.

Not sure this would be satisfactory for a man with a real fast-growing, heavy growth of facial hair, but it works for me.  I shower, shave and exercise in the shower every morning  (hip squats and toe-touching)  Just became 90.