The Internet is a charmless void

“Keep the copy short.”
Has been a common rule of thumb
Since before I started writing
(‘fore the Internet was born.)

I do not like this thinking.
No. I don’t like it one bit.
It’s short sighted.
And it’s lazy.
(It’s a lot of bit of shit.)

The argument is simple.
“Peeps”
Don’t want to waste their time
Reading’s what’s between them
and
What they’re on the net to find.

Well.
Fuck me.
Thank you Sherlock.
Jesus, Mary.
News at five.
Thank you, pens down, case is closed.
The thinking’s so sublime.
Fancy that.
The “People” don’t…
… apparently…
Don’t want to waste their time.

On the internet?

The internet?
The friending, poking internet?
The piano fucking playing fucking funny cat machine?
The, “… look at what my neighbor’s doing,
Wait, I need to place a bet.
And, ooh, a chicken tikka
And the bistro where I e’t.
That internet?

“Oh no,” they cry.
The “Keep it shorter”s
Not that Internet.
People love to waste their time there
On that internet.
Connect with friends and laugh and cry there
But.
This is not the internet that’s there.
It’s here.
And therefore, it’s the place they do not care
for
And the rules there don’t apply to where
We are and what you’re doing here.

We know
You know
The people just don’t like to waste their time.
There’s proof, you know.
“Don’t ask me where.
It’s just a sort of rule, I guess.
It’s just, well, keep it short
-er
Shorter
Keep it shorter.
Go on.
Do it.
Make the copy less.

Forget the charm
“They” don’t have time
Your words are in the way.
Just write enough
So they’ll rush from
“I see it” to
“I’ll pay.”

I wonder if the “Keep it short”s
Will see books as a test
Will they want to know the end?
Before they start the quest?
Before they turn from facebook to the pages of the Rings
Before they read of Bombadil and Nazgul-riding kings
Before discovering the Shire and how the ring was borne
Before the Eye of Morder and the rise of Aragorn
Before the Age of Men was made and Elves did cross the sea
Before they read of Preciouses and Hobbitses and She
Would turn directly to where Sam lay bleeding in the sun
And ask,
“Why didn’t they just fly
the eagles
there
in Chapter One?”

Certainly there are some times
When shorter text is best
But don’t assume it always works and so
You force it on the rest
If we always “make it shorter”
We’ll just put “price” and “Product name”
Then you’ll compete on price alone
And, then, who can you blame?

 

Before the changes come

Before the others see it

Before the “are you done?”

Before they see another way

Before the changes come

Before the client sees it

Before they “er” and “um”

Before they show their managers

Before the changes come

Before the grey clad meetings

Before you want to run

Before they prove they didn’t read it

But want changes done

Just write

Just write

Just write

Just right

Just write the way you want to

Thunder at the sun

One chance to see it your way

Before the changes come

 

What’s your thing?

What’s your thing?

Your, you know, thing

The thing that makes you you.

What’s your purpose?

What’s your why?

Why do you do your do?

What’s your “it”?

What’s your life?

What’s the “you” of you?

When someone says

What do you do?

What’s the bit that makes it true?

The answers not

The what

Or how or who

But why do you.

Do.

You need to know.

False Starts

Don’t you hate it when
You’re good to go and…

Don’t you hate it when…

Don’t you hate it when
You’ve cleared the decks
For a big project
Then
It’s put on hold?

Don’t you hate it?

Don’t you hate it…
Don’t you…
Don’t you hate it when
You get the green light
Set to go and
Then
The project simply goes away
Just gone?
For no apparent reason
Gone

Don’t you hate it?

Don’t you
Don’t you hate it?

Don’t you hate it when
They ring and then
They say they’ll ring again
And could you just be thinking on the thing we’d like to do
With you
And then they don’t call back?
And there’s nothing you can do but suck it up

Don’t you hate it?
Don’t you?

Don’t you hate it?
Yes

But
That’s the business

Don’t you hate it?

Don’t you hate.

Writing a house of cards

Every word a writer writes
Is just them trying to describe
The house of cards
They’ve imagined in their heads

The writing is not a simple peppering of words on paper.
For although that’s writing
Technically
Anyone can do it
For a spell.

A writer is someone who’s committed
Or should be
To capturing an elusive
Picture
A house of cards they’ve built with their imagination
Card upon card upon card upon card
Before it all comes tumbling
And crumbling
To the ground

A pyramid.
Perhaps
But any one can write a pyramid. Even upside down.

Build a castle in your mind
Hidden in the peaks and troughs and rolling hills of clouds
With flags like rays of sunset streaming eastward in the breeze
And pergola’d ruminations climbed about with hearts
And the only thing
You have
To anchor it before it floats away
Is a gossamer of letters
Words, sentenced forever to hold the picture to the paper
One weak link
And snap
It’s gone
A massive buttress flying off the edge of the world.

And sometimes when you get inside
The house of cards
You realise there is no house.
And quake
And then, like Finnegan
Wake

And then
Begin again.

A writer stoops and slowly collects
His thoughts with the cards
And wonders
If this time he can make it real
Make it more than just
A house of cards.

That’s the business round and round

Round about and round about and round about and round.
Listening to the whispers, ears to the ground.
Got to hit the pavement. Spread the word around.
Got to keep the wheels of business turning.

Round about and round about and round about we go.
Sometimes, it’s a busy-ness. Sometimes, it is slow.
Sometimes, you’re a winner. Sometimes, you’re an 0.
But you keep the wheels of business turning.

Round about and round about and round about we find
that often it’s a pleasure, but sometimes it’s a grind.
And even then the pain is just a figment in your mind
You love to keep the wheels of business turning.

Round about and round about and round about we groan.
We think we’re in it solo but we’re never on our own.
There’s a thousand business people hoping to be thrown a little bone.
If that will keep the wheels of business turning.

Round about and round about and round about we dance.
This is what we love to do, if given half a chance.
It’s the most fun that you can have while you’re still in your pants.
Fight to keep the wheels of business turning.

Round about and round about and round about and round.
We’re spinning for the client and we’re dancing for our tea.
For the sound of business turning is a happy song for me.
And round about and round about and round.

Should Catholics be allowed to play AFL?

Andrew Demetriou has opened a huge can of worms.

And David Koch has poured a big warm cup of stupid on top of it.

By saying Richmond should dictate who Jake King should and should not associate with, because Toby Mitchell is a convicted criminal with known associations with illicit drugs he’s drawing a very subjective line through a frighteningly grey area.

Mr Mitchell’s done his time, hasn’t he?

Kevin Bartlett on SEN raised the question of “If the AFL can say it’s OK for Carlton to vote a known criminal to be its Chairman, how can anyone in the AFL (the same AFL) dictate anything to anyone about associating with known criminals?”

Did Andrew Demetriou ever refuse to talk to Dick Pratt?

I would have bought it if The Big A had said, “We’re trying to protect the reputation of the game” or, “We don’t want the AFL harmed, so we don’t want Mr King to associate with criminals.”

But he said, “It will harm the club’s reputation.” “It will harm the player’s reputation.”

Maybe the club are managing the situation as best they know how – within the moral and ethical interpretations of the rules as they exist.

And Kochy should just know better.
I wonder how fast he’ll claim to change his mind once his statement bumps up against life?

I think it’s a matter of values.

Maybe News Limited journalists shouldn’t be allowed to report on the game because their owner is a man who condoned criminal activity in his organisation – or certainly seemed to – right up to the moment they got caught.

Andrew? Any comment?

Should Catholics be allowed to play, given the lack of action against paedophile priests?
Those priests broke the law. Why is the church allowed to claim it’s outside the law when it comes to reprobate priests, but then claim to be inside the law when it comes to claiming tax exemptions? Are all Catholics, by their continued support of the church, proving they support the actions of paedophile priests?

Andrew? Where’s your comment on that?

Should the AFL be taking money from the National Australia Bank should the big banks ever be found guilty of price gouging over fees? Or if the actions of the people in their Foreign Exchange department ever be proven to be illegal?

Andrew? How can you comment on one and not the other?

Your values are only what your actions prove them to be.

I would prefer the AFL, well within their right to protect the integrity of the game, to stay true to their values on all the hard issues. Not just throw pies at the easy targets.

Yes, a lot of bikies are bad. Some are very, very bad.

But how can you take a moral stance against criminal bikies, but then vote for criminal millionaires? It just seems a little hypocritical to me.

I believe the AFL is doing a great job in very troubling times. I just think, this time, they’ve overstepped the mark.

Perhaps they could just admit they stuffed up and let us get back to loving the game.

(And that goes for you too, David.)

 

Don’t waste my attention

Two stories today from the wonderful world of marketing.

Just noticed the new tagline for Gippsland Dairy.
Made slower to taste better.

I love it. Because I believe it. And I don’t care if it’s true or not. It does taste better (probably because of some added sugar or something) – it’s creamier and I love it.

Even the website mirrors the idea of good things taking time.

And it’s an immediate thing.
I get it. I believe it. I like it.

Mirror this with a recent offering from Corona

Wasting my attention

I’ve been a fan of the Corona campaign since it began over 5 years ago.

It was the first beer poster I’ve ever seen that made me want a beer at 8am on a summer morning. My mouth wanted a beer. My. Fucking. Mouth.

They’ve stayed pretty much true to the path since then.

Hats off.

Then this.
I think I  hate it because I’ve loved everything else they’ve done.

What’s with the fucking fridge in the bottom corner?

Why would you put a fridge in the corner and not explain it?

I can only imagine the conversations that occurred in the build up to this almighty turd being foisted on the driving public.
Did the client forget they had a fridge promotion on until the posters were almost up?
“Can’t we just put a fridge in the bottom corner?”
Did the agency agree because – I don’t know – because they wanted to help or they didn’t want to change the campaign or they ran out of energy or one of the creatives threw a hissy fit and no-one could be bothered slapping them or the original art director wasn’t there and no-one gave a toss or they figured they had four other posters so rooting the fifth wasn’t going to hurt or they just couldn’t be bothered?
Did the client want a specific, stand alone ad for the fridge – which could have been a great opportunity to make more friends for the beer – but the agency forgot, in their haste to book tickets for an all-the-salsa-you-can-eat Mexican junket?
Did the client’s boss just make one demand too many and belling that cat just isn’t an option?

There are bound to be a hundred reasons.

And each one doesn’t stop the fact that I’ve gone from being a fan of the Coronas to just another beer drinker. This poster actually made the beer taste like cheap Mexican plonk that needed a lemon in it to mask the flavour.

Why on god’s green earth did they do it?

It wasted the good vibes the beer-drinking part of the ad gave me by confusing me with a “why the hell is there a fridge on the damn beach?”

And there’s no hint there to make me understand why my happy place is suddenly a dumping ground for cast-offs from some stoner’s kitchen.

Yes. I’m too close to it.

But couldn’t someone have said, somewhere along the journey from “We have a fridge thing” to “There’s a turd on my beach” – “Just because we have their attention, doesn’t mean we have to tell them everything.”

You’re like a boring bastard with a party trick.

You had earned more than my attention.

Now you’ve lost it.

Shame on you.

The busyness

Got to rush. Got to go.

Sorry I can’t stay.

Very, very busy me.

I’m flat out. All day.

Make a meeting. Make a date.

Make a cup of tea.

Make a deadline. Make a point.

This making’s making me.

 

Forget work/life balance.

If you love what you do.

Working hard and working long.

Will always work for you.

But if you’re busy working

If your timesheet’s chock-a-blocks

If the bigger picture’s blotted out

By your over-filled inbox

Remember, hamster-wheeling you

(It’s hard. I know you’re dizzy.)

To keep your eyes on why you work.

And not what keeps you busy

Head down. Bum up.

Don’t you hate it when.
Head down. Bum up.

You’re so busy working.
Head down. Bum up.

You miss a crucial deadline.
Head down. Bum up.

And your whole world turns.

Head down.

Bum up.