Post:
The U.S. pork industry’s iconic marketing slogan, “The Other White Meat,” was crisp and clear and clever and to the point.
And when it was introduced 24 years ago, the slogan connected easily with a generation of American consumers who were becoming uncomfortable with the fat and cholesterol in red meat.
Will pork producers’ new campaign and slogan, “Pork: Be inspired,” make the same kind of connection? At this point, I am not inspired. What's your take?
4 days ago
Comment:
And speaking of generic foods given panache with marketing, we might speculate that on behalf of the Association of Milk Makers or whatever it is called, Mad Ave hacks couldn't riff on what the pork geniuses pulled (joke) (that's enough! .ed) off when they came up with "The Other White Thirst Quencher!" simply because none exists that didn't already have milk in it. So they settled on "Got Milk?" which was pretty interesting and distinctive enough to inspire a flotilla of satirists. Rebecca Romijn in a bikini with a milk mustache didn't hurt either.
The egg industry trade association also did a good job with "The Incredible, Edible Egg". Fortunately that campaign was long gone when eggs were destroyed and their chickens slaughtered not too long ago following some vicious bacterial or viral infection.
Of course the animals behind "The Other White Meat" got their bacon kicked when Swine Flu began killing people.
The moral of the story: pigs that defy gravity do come down at one point or another.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Age of Sageism
Sure, I have war stories, epics of Homerian class. Hard-won, hard-fought – in the ugly business of business. They are now told only to those who would appreciate what valor, courage, tenacity, and often pure stupidity I summoned to plant a corporate identity on forbidden shores or snatch priceless make-goods from the claws of vicious double-tongued monsters of Media. Abide a logo fallen from a full page in the San Jose Mercury News? Never! A misquote by some hack at Reuters? I will banish thee forever from my Alerts! What? You can’t do better than the rate card? Ho ho! You’ll see my ad tucked into your enemy’s inside cover!
Today these and plenty more hoary jaw-droppers bulge from my closet at home as I tote my resumes about the globe, across new-fangled “social networks”, and into the offices of cherubic youths anointed with titles such as Chief Cerebral Wizard, Thunder Maker, and Master Knowledge Artist. Yeah, well show me a Master Knowledge Artist and I’ll show you a Master Bull**** Artist (you? .ed).
As silver-tongued as a Vice President of Verbal Identity might be, when faced with a chronicle of my gainful endeavors it would seem that I command no more colorful Verbal Identity in His Presence than “overqualified”. Thrust! That file-card diminutive from the Great Depression ready for its entrance! Bull**** not the “Overqualified” you sniveling stubble-faced gnome! By Thunder and Diminution! A roaring that might have been praise!
Parry!
“No I am not!”
“Well, what’s all this then?”
“What?”
“Your resume.”
“Oh, you know just some things.”
“No, I mean, with your experience you should be a CEO or something.”
Death’s cold kiss.
I’ve more or less stopped trying to figure out why knowing a bit more about a job is less attractive than knowing the job or probably the more attractive option, knowing very little about the job. I’ve tried to walk in with a sort of hey, I don’t know much about cloud computing [with 20 years of IBM under my belt I practically invented it, you dumb git) but I’m a fast learner approach, and I’m still “overqualified”. What the hell do you think I went to a prestigious institution of higher learning for? To be merely “qualified?”
I get the “CEO” thing all the time, but it takes somebody like me to know that a not insignificant portion of the CEO population out there can barely tie shoelaces. As a kid, I couldn’t care less about the tornadoes, cute dog, munchkins and green witches -- the part that I couldn’t wait to see is the creepy little man behind the curtain pulling levers, blowing smoke, booming his voice and scaring the ruby slippers off everyone. Now there was a real CEO. So I don’t know why the CEO's of Oz are so Olympian.
You’ll be delighted to know that no Thesaurus I’ve consulted has come up with anything resembling a synonym for “overqualified”. Hence I am free as a penny in a puddle to offer: “old”, “highly knowledgeable”, "smarter than I am", “sage-like but otherwise useless”.
Now, it’s possibly relevant that in fact I shaved off my white-ish beard to tackle today’s job market. Prior to my defoliation I was known around the block as “God”, as in "Hey God! Wazzup?". Denuded now thanks to the fellows at Gillette, I’ve been reduced from God to “CEO” and still can’t get a bloody job for having demoted myself in the tonsorial department.
Hey listen, come to think of it, no one wants God in the workforce anyway.
He’s a bleedin’ old self righteous know-it-all who claims he has intimate knowledge of cloud computing.
Today these and plenty more hoary jaw-droppers bulge from my closet at home as I tote my resumes about the globe, across new-fangled “social networks”, and into the offices of cherubic youths anointed with titles such as Chief Cerebral Wizard, Thunder Maker, and Master Knowledge Artist. Yeah, well show me a Master Knowledge Artist and I’ll show you a Master Bull**** Artist (you? .ed).
As silver-tongued as a Vice President of Verbal Identity might be, when faced with a chronicle of my gainful endeavors it would seem that I command no more colorful Verbal Identity in His Presence than “overqualified”. Thrust! That file-card diminutive from the Great Depression ready for its entrance! Bull**** not the “Overqualified” you sniveling stubble-faced gnome! By Thunder and Diminution! A roaring that might have been praise!
Parry!
“No I am not!”
“Well, what’s all this then?”
“What?”
“Your resume.”
“Oh, you know just some things.”
“No, I mean, with your experience you should be a CEO or something.”
Death’s cold kiss.
I’ve more or less stopped trying to figure out why knowing a bit more about a job is less attractive than knowing the job or probably the more attractive option, knowing very little about the job. I’ve tried to walk in with a sort of hey, I don’t know much about cloud computing [with 20 years of IBM under my belt I practically invented it, you dumb git) but I’m a fast learner approach, and I’m still “overqualified”. What the hell do you think I went to a prestigious institution of higher learning for? To be merely “qualified?”
I get the “CEO” thing all the time, but it takes somebody like me to know that a not insignificant portion of the CEO population out there can barely tie shoelaces. As a kid, I couldn’t care less about the tornadoes, cute dog, munchkins and green witches -- the part that I couldn’t wait to see is the creepy little man behind the curtain pulling levers, blowing smoke, booming his voice and scaring the ruby slippers off everyone. Now there was a real CEO. So I don’t know why the CEO's of Oz are so Olympian.
You’ll be delighted to know that no Thesaurus I’ve consulted has come up with anything resembling a synonym for “overqualified”. Hence I am free as a penny in a puddle to offer: “old”, “highly knowledgeable”, "smarter than I am", “sage-like but otherwise useless”.
Now, it’s possibly relevant that in fact I shaved off my white-ish beard to tackle today’s job market. Prior to my defoliation I was known around the block as “God”, as in "Hey God! Wazzup?". Denuded now thanks to the fellows at Gillette, I’ve been reduced from God to “CEO” and still can’t get a bloody job for having demoted myself in the tonsorial department.
Hey listen, come to think of it, no one wants God in the workforce anyway.
He’s a bleedin’ old self righteous know-it-all who claims he has intimate knowledge of cloud computing.
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