pearls of advertisement wisdom

Now that we have cable again, I am once again being pelted by TV advertisements for everything from Ziploc bags to CoverGirl mascara to Republican Senators--and it's got me thinking about what makes an effective ad.

Most ads are out there for the sole purpose of creating brand name awareness since people are more likely to buy a brand they recognize versus one they don't. These commercials employ all sorts of tactics: feel good family shots, cute children with lisps, hilarious dancing fat guys, boobalicious babes, etc. The good ones catch your attention and make you laugh/cry, and some are extremely effective. For example, I have yet to see a Pepperidge Farm commercial that didn't make me want to run out and pick up a box of Goldfish Crackers and a cute singing kid. Target ads that showcase multiple brand items are also influential, as they remind me of all of the stuff that I forgot to get during my last trip through the store's overcrowded aisles: Right, toothpaste--we totally need that. Oh, and the batteries in the remote are dead. Damn, I forgot about toilet paper too! How much do we have left? Fuck! That reminds me we don't have any Kleenex either.

Big name companies spend big overhead bucks to make their ads super flashy and create more business for themselves. But is such extreme spending necessary to achieve the desired effect? I mean, I see a gazillion tampon commercials every day that feature women bouncing happily on trampolines/running through flowering meadows/dancing around ecstatically in their underwear, but it never galvanizes me into any sense of excitement at the prospect of buying tampons--and I never remember what brand which woman was bouncing/running/dancing around in appreciation for. They all just make me think the same thing: Oh yeah, tampons. As far as I'm concerned, the companies spending big bucks to put out competitive bids for my business are wasting their time and money. And this is on a sure-fire product! Like clockwork, every month millions of women run out and buy tampons (except for the ho-bags that get knocked up). That's an extremely consistent and reliable buying cycle--you'd think that Tampax and Playtex and Pepperidge Farm Tampons wouldn't have to throw so much ad money around to get the business they want. You wanna know who will win this advertising war? The first company that decides to take the simpler, more direct approach to advertising: the "Head-On approach."

Remember that commercial that was running in July/August of this year? You know, "Head-On, apply directly to the forehead! Head-On, apply directly to the forehead! Head-On, apply directly to the forehead!" That one. Yeah, you remember it. The commercial didn't even make the product's purpose clear and you remember the name of the product and how to use it. Now that's effective advertising. Tampon companies need to jump on that bandwagon. I might not remember which brand that fresh-faced teenager was smiling about in that one commercial, but I sure as hell would remember if it were advertised using the Head-On approach: "Nabisco Tampons, insert directly into the vagina! Nabisco Tampons, insert directly into the vagina! Nabisco Tampons, insert directly into the vagina!"

Try getting that out of your head while you're shopping for batteries at Target.

star-crossed lovers

Tonight we had our revenge on Screamy, the cute but whiney three-year-old who lives next door: we watched Chunhyang, a lengthy Korean movie with wailing/stylized singing narrative. The music is intriguing--to me it sounds a bit like Native American singing--and the lyrics are endlessly amusing. The best ones involve needlessly detailed descriptions of the story characters' garments ("He wore a hat and a blue jacket with the end tied back") and the shouting
("That bitch will pay!" and "Beat her until her organs burst!" were my personal favorites). My one big complaint is that just as the story was starting to pick up speed (The evil governor is going to beat the courtesan's daughter to death at his birthday dinner--the Korean equivalent of a piňata party. Will her husband arrive to save her in time?) our brand new LG DVD player crapped out on us. The irony of the similar story lines is not lost on me: just like the two lovers in the movie, these two pieces of Korean technology were unable to overcome their world's shortcomings in order to live happily ever after. I don't need to see the end of the movie to know how things are going to end for Chunhyang and her husband--we've already beaten the DVD player's organs until they burst.

Operation Sinker

Due to a recent office move I have started using another bathroom on the other side of the building and have thus noticed a disturbing phenomenon: every once in a while, a giant solitary turd can be found lurking at the bottom of one of the toilet bowls.

I don't know who the culprit is--not yet anyway. I've made a few inquiries around the office, and it seems like so far the stealthy minx has succeeded in evading detection, like some sort of Poop Ninja. Ugh. I shudder at the prospect of future attacks. Not only is it horrific to behold, but the conspicuous lack of toilet paper baffles me. Twice already I've stumbled backwards out of a stall, shielding my face from the unexpected horror, wailing blindly: Unclean! Unclean! What is going on here?! Why would someone do such a thing? (Or rather, how would someone do such a thing?) Is it disgruntlement? Terrorism? Child-like delight? I must know.


Have faith, office mates,
For I, Restroom Samurai,
will defeat Nasty.