Your Superbowl Ad Sucked—A Public Service Announcement

 Ads have been called the artform of the 21st Century. They can be artful if not art and The Superbowl used to be the SB of ads too. They used to be funny, daring or visually stunning. "Did you see the one with..." or "How did they talk the client into ..." were standard postgame water cooler fare. They used to be a celebration of unbounded creativity, of the big dog let off the leash for one glorious run around the stadium.

Every year the bar would get higher and those of us in advertising and marketing awaited the Big Game Spots with the eagerness of kids at Christmas. There was always one ad with an incredible concept backed by stunning production values that blew everybody away. It was a point of pride that we could share with our civilian friends and family. We could point to the screen and say, see, this is what I'm talking about. This year we all got coal.

Clients, it seem have become more conservative and so have their agencies. In their effort not to offend, they've failed to entertain or innovate. Microsoft runs the same chirpy ads, the same-ish interchangeable jiggly blonde works it for Carl's Junior, the boldest moves were reserved for Budweiser who poked millennial beer snobs (so risky) and Nationwide who cheerily reminded us that death is an important part of life (insurance).

A PSA from creatives, for creatives, a reminder that in Superbowl 2015, the most exciting part of the game, was the game. So be it. Like they're saying in Seattle, there's always next year. And for those of us who've forgotten what shocking, funny and creative look like all bundled together, there's this little gem for a product most Americans will never see or use. But I'm tempted to sign on, just because their ad is so good. Isn't that the point?

Watch it, but maybe not with your boss looking over your shoulder.

Random Olympic closing observations

In no particular order:

Whether you found the opening and closing ceremonies quirkily entertaining or insufferably pompous and my FBF's already know where I stand, the Brits did an amazingly good job.

Brit pop music rocks. It has from the '60's when I was a kid and still does. Continue to invade at will, lads and lasses.

I don't know how they did from a budgeting/profit/loss standpoint, but they pulled the games off without Chinese overkill and with no major delays, no scandals, NO TERRORISM and all in one of the world's largest, busiest, most diverse cities. Well done, London!

This (or something like it) is what Mitt Romney should have said, but we already know he's no statesman or spokesman for American anything. Whatever he was asked when he made his infamous comment, he should have realized that his job wasn't to consult as a former Olympic organizer, but as an American dignitary. The hubris of the man. Epic fail on his part. Mr. PM and Mr. Mayor of London--well-said sirs!

The Dark Night of The Dark Knight

In answering critics who say that dark movies cause dark acts, movie industry apologists sound eerily similar to NRA apologists ....
by Rick Weiss (c) 2012 Trident Productions

As horrific as it is, the “The Dark Knight Rises” premiere massacre in Colorado is already fading from our “news-stream” mentality. Before it completely washes downstream, let’s throw a little keylight on two troubling, if related connections and see what we can learn from them, if anything.

We know from “Inception” that Chris Nolan can bend space and time and keep 4 or 5 different realities going simultaneously, but “The Dark Knight Rises” is even more ponderous, a kinda a big goofy allegorical soufflé. It rises, but falls flat soon after leaving the oven. Good girls and bad girls trade places with reality-defying aplomb. Batman is masked. Unmasked. Masked again. He needs to conquer his fear. He needs to learn to fear again. He's rich. He's poor. He's rich again. He's dead. Alive. Dead again, then alive again. The Scarecrow sits in judgment on the rich. The film’s best line is left to Catwoman:

"There's a storm coming, Mr. Wayne," she purrs. "You and your friends better batten down the hatches. Because when it hits, you're all going to wonder how you ever thought you could ever live so large and leave so little for the rest of us."

New Toy

Did I ask you for your love?

Did I ask you for your dedication?

I don't want, I don't want your love.

I don't want, I don't want your affection!


Dateline, June 31, 2004

8 years ago,
to the month, I plunked down good money ($1600) for the old desktop. Call it Big Blue Dell. Despite its long service, I don't really harbor any emotional attachment. People love and make love to their computers, mod them, endlessly customizing inside and out, imbue them with personalities—only to chuck them out too soon when the newest shiny box becomes available. But to a writer, a computer ideally, should just be a typewriter. Sure, a typewriter with endless time-squandering fingertip access to a world of knowledge and social engagement, but a typewriter nonetheless. Means to an end.

But when you're on your own, business-wise, your box is not just a toy—it's your work, your productivity, your revenue generator. And when you're on your own, you have to be your own IT and IT training department. So no, I'm not a tech, I don't program or solder, but I've learned a bit about everything. Even when I knew far less, every upgrade I opened my wallet for has to run this gauntlet:

1.    Is it going to make what I do easier, faster or better?
2.    Do I need it now?
3.    How soon can I afford it?

Most of my techno-fancies are felled by the first blow. Few survive all three. These are good rules. Abiding over all is the genetic predisposition to buy smart, agnostic and not very often. Modern technology and its advertising make this very difficult. Device manufacturers want you to buy early and often and that is how their advertising is geared. To build brand loyalty. When the bloom is off the rose and you want to find out how to keep older tech serviceable, well that requires some serious research skills.

I want a New Toy (oh ay oh), to keep my head expanding.
I want a New Toy (oh ay oh), nothing too demanding.
Then when everything is in roses, everything is static
Yeh my New Toy (oh ay oh), you'll find us in the attic.