(This was originally published February 8, 2012, on http://geauxcreative.wordpress.com)
The sensory approach to advertising is expanding. Gone are the days when helmet-cam footage and the sound of smoking rubber have to bear the entire burden of pounding the excitement of NASCAR into viewers’ skulls. No longer will the fake, spray-painted turkey in the Jennie-O commercial have to convince viewers of its deliciousness and realness just on its Fotoshopped looks. Smell-vertising has arrived and is already bringing product scents to the out-of-home industry. Soon Smell-O-Vision will be in your living room, and before you know it, Terry Crews will be exploding through your wall to douse you in Old Spice POWER!
According to Creativity Online, McCain’s frozen pocket potato line has installed out-of-home advertisements that feature a fiberglass replica of a baked potato that heats up and emits baked potato-scented gas into the surrounding atmosphere. Typically I would think that being bombarded with tuber-vapor would be unappealing and unappreciated. However, the installations seem to be primarily at bus stops, making it more likely that this ad is only the second or third worst smelling thing to call the bus stop its home.
I was so taken aback by this idea that I had to look deeper into it. Predictably, this is not a new idea, and has been done before. If we can believe what blogger Joseph Giorgi says,then this grocery chain billboard in North Carolina secretes clouds of beef-scent around mealtimes. This also seems like a weird and overwhelming scent to blast onto passers-by. I loathe walking through the cologne section of department stores because of the gauntlet of trigger-happy salesclerks that line up to hose me down with eau de toilette, like I just stumbled into the worlds most noxious watergun fight. I cringe to think that walking or driving down the street will soon be like this. Only, with all the steak and potato fumes clinging to me, I’ll smell like I just left a Sizzler. Where I rubbed my meal all over myself.
Quickly losing faith in humanity, I was excited when I discovered that someone had finally gotten this idea right. The San Francisco Chronicle reported, in 2006, that about a half dozen bus shelters had been upgraded with advertisements that exuded the fragrance of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Finally, someone is using a smell that doesn’t punch me in the nostrils. So who could be behind such a bright idea? Pillsbury? Nestle Tollhouse? Paula Deen? Surprisingly enough, these ads were executed on behalf of the California Milk Processor Board. I’m really keen on the fact that milk is selling itself in such a roundabout way, almost as if it recognizes its role as a supporting character. Milk & cookies may be better friends than peanut butter & jelly, and even give man & dog a run for the money. The connection is so ingrained yet marginally subliminal that there almost seems to be a Pavlovian response expected from the viewer/smeller.
(This was orignially published January 30, 2012, on http://geauxcreative.wordpress.com)
Attention spans in America are shrinking faster than the polar ice caps and Obama’s approval rating combined. This alarming state raises many questions. Are we spending too much time in front of the microwave? Is A.D.D. fashionable again? Are Adderall’s pharmaceutical reps in bed with psychologists nationwide? Although the answer to all of these questions is “Yes,” they are beside the point, and don’t address the real issue at hand. In this day and age of truncated focal capacity, how must we adjust our communication to yield effectiveness and profitability?
Communicating with the distracted can present a frustrating challenge. It can often be difficult to hold the attention of the scatterbrained long enough even to explain that you are trying to sell them your leftover Ritalin prescription at a really great price, and how generous that is, what with it being exam week and all. On the A.D.D. scale, I, myself, fall about halfway between “well-grounded human” and “NASA approved space cadet.” Whether I am in limbo or a liaison, having a foot in both camps offers an interesting perspective and awareness of how my common condition comes to bear on the shape of interaction in general.
Mass communication has undergone many changes that reflect the influence of shortened attention spans. Long format blogging and email were too burdensome and tedious, so text messaging and microblogging platforms like Twitter set a new attention span standard at about 142 characters. Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim programming is comprised in a large part by a score of 15-minute time slots, catering to the ephemerally attentive youth of America. The best slogans and taglines are four words-long or less, and when was the last time long copy appeared in an ad, anywhere? Everywhere you look, mass communication is all about short and sweet.
Is this a good thing? Is anything objectively good or bad? Of course not, so, let’s examine a couple of cases that came up in this week on AdAge and AdWeek.
Alloy, the production company behind Vampire Diaries and Gossip Girl, is producing a web-based series called “Dating Rules From My Future Self,” and has attained considerable viral success. While the webisode is not a new or extremely challenging format, what is novel about this concept is that it is released as several seven-minute installments throughout the week. The webisodes are sponsored by some big names, but because of their diminutive length, there are no commercial breaks. Instead there is logo-flashing and shameless product placement. The episode I watched (yes, I’ll admit to that) featured heavy branding from Schick at the intro, and the protagonist’s Siri enabled iPhone 4S is practically a supporting character. I assume Apple is paying handsomely for their product to get more screen time than several of the human actors.
The viral success of the series and the prestigious promotional partnerships are evidence of this being a financially sound format model. However, it seems questionable whether it will remain desirable, particularly if seven-minute webisodes become the new paradigm for entertainment. Even the most distracted viewers may be looking for a more lengthy escape session, an extended release. It’s hard to create depth and build strong emotional connections in seven minutes. This makes it the perfect amount of time to spend in the closet with someone at a junior-high party, but the wrong amount of time to get viewers to commit to coming back for more. It may be working for the moment, which I attribute to novelty and its singularity in this category. However, I can’t foresee this being a good bandwagon for other emerging series to jump on.
Also drastically chopping the length of TV spots, Wieden + Kennedy rolled out roughly 120 ads for Target, each clocking in at 15 seconds and highlighting a single product. In terms of hitting the mark for short attention spans, this campaign is a bull’s eye for Target. A nine-second lead-in illustrates situations in which a certain product is crucial, but does so in a sufficiently ambiguous and unpredictable manner to make the one-second reveal a true moment of epiphany. Engaging, clever, and truly relatable, the writing of these ads is brilliant.
Done properly, concise is great. However, it lends itself best to simplicity. A complex message about a complex product or proposition may be done a disservice by brevity. An important distinction between the above cases is that people seek out TV shows and webisodes as a welcome distraction. Shortening this may decrease satisfaction. Commercials, on the other hand, are an intrusion of reality into TV fantasyland, an unwelcome distraction from distraction. So, in the case of commercials, less would often seem to be more. Ultimately, it is crucial to know the capacity of the audience and the nuances and complexity of the product. Essentially, we are tasked with finding the intersection of how much the audience needs to know, and how much they can stand to hear. –Richard Carman
(This article was orignially published January 23, 2012, on http://geauxcreative.wordpress.com)
My mom always hated Zebra Stripe Gum when I was a kid. Best characterized as the crack cocaine of the bubblegum world, its intense flavor lasts a mere 15 seconds before disappearing completely. The user craves another and yet another piece, until all 17 sticks have been fervently gnashed. This tendency towards heavy use, combined with my cavalier youthful attitude towards gum disposal, inevitably resulted in a sticky breadcrumb trail leading back to my Zebra Stripe den.
What my mom hated wasn’t nearly as much cleaning up a connect-the-dots of bubblegum on walls. It was what she always found me doing at the end of the bubblegum road. It was the temporary tattoos. They came free in every pack and they were a guaranteed mess. They were difficult to administer, and invariably produced a great deal of smearing and running of colors. The end result was Hollywood-quality fake bruises that made a lot of the first grade class look like they belonged under the care of Child Protective Services. All in all, the tattoos were probably not a good branding and marketing strategy for already controversial Zebra Stripe Gum.
I assumed that the temporary tattoo-marketing craze died with the DEA ban on Zebra Stripe, and my assumption held until I recently opened a package from Moosejaw.com. I was shocked to discover a high quality temporary tattoo folded in with my packing slip.
A Michigan based outdoor and adventure sports outfitter for whom quirkiness and ironic humor is a central brand characteristic, Moosejaw, is one of few companies for whom this ploy could work. A fresher idea than another damn bumper sticker, the temporary tattoo is intriguing. The tattoo, itself, however, was an illustration of toenail clippers. It occurred to me that the tat may be too much of a joke on itself to ever see the warm embrace of a wet washcloth. Even if this is the case, it is hard to chalk it up as a waste. The gimmick may be just an end in itself for strengthening a brand identity. Maybe you can’t realistically ask people to ink your branding onto their skin, right?
Wrong. Just this past week, in New York, Chicago, Fort Lauderdale, and here, in New Orleans, Sailor Jerry Rum gave away 101 tattoos, yes, REAL tattoos to commemorate the 101st birthday of late artist Norman “Sailor Jerry” Collins. The catch; the tattoos had to be one of the trademark designs offered by Sailor Jerry Rum, who footed the bill, according to AdWeek.
Sailor Jerry’s marketers are apparently working off the classic spring break model of “Here, dude, drink this spiced rum. Yes, all of it. Great, now, we’re going to buy you a tattoo. No, you can’t get whatever you want. Actually, we were thinking Hello Kitty.” I can tell you with certainty that this is not a good strategy, because it yields tattoos that bearers would rather die from than live to regret. I would personally be embarrassed to have a stranger recognize my dragon or dice tattoo as a piece of corporate branding. Don’t get me wrong, the designs, themselves, are cool. I dig the whole West Coast nautical throwback style, but tattoos are supposed to be unique expressions of individualism. I can’t foresee this being embraced by the tattoo community because it reeks of phoniness. Nothing about this stunt makes sense to me.
Only blockheads like this guy dip in company ink (via Designboom)
Tattoos are a staple of the fringe community, a mainstay of alternative lifestyles. And if there’s anything that counterculture does not embrace, it is rampant branding being forced down their throats, and now, under their skin. No thanks, Jerry. I’ll keep my Captain Morgan, and my dignity. –Richard Carman
I thought I understood the internet. I’m older than the damn thing and I’ve been using it since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Back then it was a hip, edgy, slightly obscure body of information that came into homes over a phone line, much like characters in the Matrix. Now it has become something more like Obi-Wan’s description of the Force, an invisible energy that surrounds and binds all living things.
Communicating long distances over the internet is not a new idea, but it used to be done in via ICQ or chat room or AOL Instant Messenger, by someone sitting alone in a dimly lit room. The advent of wireless internet and social media allowed people to take that aloneness out with them, socializing with everyone in the world except the people actually around them. Apple’s world conquest of the early 2000’s culminated in the unspoken Mobile Mandate: that all proper individuals must acquire and abide smartphones and tablets . We are currently undergoing a paradigm shift in delivery and consumption of content: Web 2.o, the long-awaited sequel to the cyberpunk classic Hackers.
What defines the rebellious youth cultures of the past half-century? What do the hippies have in common with the punks? How are the slackers the same as the hipsters? At the heart of these ideologies, there is an essential rejection and redefinition of the ideal of the American Dream. Somehow, the image of universal success persists despite outcry after outcry from disillusioned twenty and thirty-somethings. The call of these prophets fall on the deaf ears of younger, more jaded generation, who invariably views the previous generation as having failed to change a misleading societal expectation. The costumes and the approaches have varied but the mission has remained the same.
Hippies aimed for a universalizing utopian society. Show the world how great life on the commune is and they will all join hands with us, etc. Punks and hip-hop heads aimed to change society by tearing it down. What it was supposed to be rebuilt into was unclear, but step one was, without question, destruction. These are the cultures that put graffiti on the map. The slackers paved the way for hipsters in being “over it,” a generation of “whatever.”
This is where it all comes together. A few minutes browsing this blog will reveal several common themes. I dig yammering about voice recognition and near field communication because they are extremely useful technologies, plus, they light up the part of my brain that responds to living in a Jetsons episode. I jump on any opportunity to talk about how Google+ fell off like a bad bag of dope, and why they can’t get it together. This week they all come together in the context of question I posed a couple weeks back about artistic integrity and the fine line between inspired imitation and intellectual larceny.
In the context of a Guinness Ad that appropriates its direction from Requiem For A Dream, I asked if copying or stealing ideas was an inevitable or acceptable practice in the creative world. After many hours of book-larnin’ and brain-thinkin’ I came to a couple conclusions. For better or worse, good ideas are going to be repeated over and over. You might even go as far as to say there are only a handful of good, original, ideas, that have been refurbished, refabricated, and repackaged over and over throughout time. Regardless of whether imitating ideas is inevitable, it remains impossible to make a blanket assertion about whether or not it is wrong. In this moral vacuum, I posit one maxim for all men to accord equally, “If you are going to step to someone else’s game, you HAVE GOT TO BRING THE HEAT!”
Google consistently brings a knife to the gunfight. Google+ was late out of the gates and has been lagging behind Facebook since the first turn. When it decided to play Facebook at its own game, it failed to bring an ace up its sleeve. Every aspect is an imitation of a Facebook feature. Circles expanded beyond privacy settings only slightly, but ultimately crashed and burned while trying to do a barrel roll. Suggested friends was not suggested by anyone to their friends. A weak attempt to one-up likes, +1 never amounted to much. The recent GMail mobile app was a GFail and had to be returned to sender. Just a few years ago Google was an innovator for putting our mail and docs in the cloud, but now they are trying to trying to pick up the pieces as iCloud makes it rain. (more…)
I meant to write this article last night. But, when I sat down to find some news to discuss, the first article I came across was a New York Times piece bearing the headline “Wave Glider, a Floating Robot, Seeks to Network the Oceans.” Naturally I became entirely preoccupied with drawing this picture of what I could only assume “Wave Glider” looks like. Unfortunately, the real Wave Glider looks more like a boogie board with training wheels and less like Optimus Prime’s extroverted cousin from Maui. This was such a disappointment that I lost interest in the whole affair. Overall, this was a good move, though. Today I found something more interesting to write about, and that’s a Win for both of us.
Initially, I was considering debating Jordan Crook’s semi-disparaging remarks about the shortcomings of Apple’s Siri. Unfortunately though, since getting the 4s, all I’ve done with Siri is repeatedly ask “What does a weasel look like?” and try to text tweet @Beeribot, “Could you pour me a beer?” (I see they also programmed the robot to pour one out for its dead homies) Speaking of which, I’ve heard, from a reliable source, that Siri, when asked about where/how to dispose of a body, will return the locations of nearby swamps, landfills, and pig farms. Apparently the app is down with being accessory to murder, but not with editing calendar events. It really is hard to find good help these days. (more…)
Last night I went out to the bar to grab a couple drinks. As my friends and I downed pints of the cheap stuff, I witnessed an ad for Guinness’s Black Lager that brazenly appropriated its direction from Requiem For A Dream. It wasn’t until I saw the iconic dilating pupil that the sequence clicked and I realized what I was seeing. Maybe you’ve seen the ad, also. If not, it is right here with the shoot-up sequence from Requiem for comparison.
Remarkably similar, right? The question on the table is not so much whether the Guinness concept is borrowed, but whether it matters, and if there is anything inherently wrong with that. I haven’t made up my mind on this one yet, but I’m curious what other people think.
It’s like Steve said:
The great thing about games is that cool ones don’t get old and nobody ever tries to make you play the lame ones with them. But what makes one game good and another bad? This is the burning question that will be answered in a cursory fashion before moving on to other topics. Obvious factors include gameplay, incentives, and overall value of leaderboard position. Let’s take a closer look.
Every silver lining has its cloud. After spending last week in beautiful, cloudless California, I had the pleasure of spending two days at the Atlanta airport on standby. Once I grew numb to the soul-crushing misery of the world’s busiest airport raining on my parade, I got to thinking about a question I asked myself when first walking into the 2nd lowest-lying airport in the world: