Ah Come On Man! I Can’t Believe You Totally Fell For That!

The American-English vernacular is a wondrous thing. Seriously. It helps to succinctly and colourfully (or should that be ‘colorfully’?) express the schadenfreude an individual experiences when a compatriot is dumbfounded by his or her own gullibility.

April, or more specifically the first day of the month, it seems is the ideal time of year to exorcise those comedic demons that accrue across the rest of the year.

Examples of said hilarity abound. Check out this recent Huffington Post rundown of some of the most notable of recent years:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/03/28/april-fools-day-pranks_n_841663.html#s258889&title=Wisconsin_Capitol_Building

One of the problems with prominent pranks is that they can come across as somewhat insular. Just look at some of the japes Google has carried out on an unsuspecting public over the last ten years.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Google%27s_hoaxes

Though I suspect a select demographic of computer science fanboys would find all of this hilarious – between bouts of Aspergers-like uncertainty avoidance and inability to string a sentence together in the presence of women – for the rest of us, not so much.

Like any good ad campaign, branded hoaxes work when there’s an emotional or product benefit attached to the prank, it can often cause the public to develop a sense of ‘fiction envy’. Consider Burger King’s now dated, but effective left-handed Whopper fool or Tesco’s whistling carrots.

Better still (and I’m not ashamed to blow our own trumpet) was our own, Renegade Media’s contribution to April tomfoolery – Publicitair: the World’s first free airline.

Last year, we decided to set ourselves the dubious task of launching an airline in two days- with little regard for our own sanity – let alone that of an unsuspecting public. We scoped the whole idea out from cradle to grave. Publicitair was free for passengers to fly on because all operating revenues were offset by advertising. This meant that every surface of the aircraft – internal and external; including the tailfin, staff uniforms, in-flight entertainment, tannoy announcements, overhead luggage compartments and more – was available for branding.

Suffice to say we had endless fun speculating the type of custom we could engage, and even more fun donning cabin crew outfits for a professional photo shoot next to a decommissioned Boeing 747 at Gloucestershire’s Kemble airfield.

Still a press release and a nice pic weren’t going to be enough to pull the wool of the eyes of an international cast of journos, bloggers and readers. We had to make it real. We developed a website, designed a media pack to lend further credibility to the story, and even issued letters to big international brands, offering their marketing teams the chance to get in ‘on the ground’, before seeding the story across social media platforms.

Many of the world’s leading bloggers picked up the story and within hours it had been reported on the BBC, leading to further distribution across Western Europe, Russia and the USA. Coverage was also achieved in major trade publications including Campaign, Brand Republic and Media Week. With total circulation taken into account, estimated readership numbers equate to over 3 million.

On Twitter, we managed to reach reached 56,709 people. By midday on the launch date, Publicitair had been retweeted to more than 30,000 micro-bloggers seeded from the Renegade Media Twitter account. Hundreds more submitted their details and booked to be included in a proposed ticket lottery. Several global brands then made contact and requested sponsorship information. We were still fielding calls from interested parties a month later.

All things considered, yes, it was self-serving: a proof of concept campaign that gave Renegade the opportunity to have some fun. But what was most entertaining, was the extent to which there’s genuine room for a service of this nature.

If you’re interested in bringing this to life, simply send a cheque for £5 million made payable to yours truly.

Now that would be laugh, but one I suspect that won’t fly.

May your pranks be puckish, perceptive and praiseworthy.

Happy Fools Day

The Publicitair Team

You Want Drank?

We’re constantly told to drink responsibly, which can often be deemed more a polemic than friendly advice. On the other hand, Christ knows that consumers can be stupid enough to warrant that level of indignation. And it’s not just booze we need to be mindful of.

 

Energy drinks – caffeine enhanced beverages that stimulate the metabolism, appetite and hypothalamus ­– are tickling us all into stroke-inducing stupors. It’s nothing new. We all know the dangers. The irregular-sized aluminium containers render them anomalies amongst their beverage brethren: evidence enough to indicate they’re not meant for kids. However canny enough the branding to appeal without displeasing the powers that be, it’s fair to say they now occupy a space that’s separate from the sodas of old. That we can live with. An occasional kick when needed is probably no more detrimental that a few jars on a Friday night.

 

However, a new pretender to the drink-stim crown is gaining a steady following in the US – owing to its aping of a poor man’s opiate. Known as ‘Drank’ (http://www.drankbeverage.com/) the soda contains a legal combination of herbal ingredients including valerian root, rosehips, as well as lashings of the hormone melatonin. The tagline asks buyers to ‘Slow Your Roll’, and is in fact the antithesis of its caffeine-laden cousins – it makes you sleepy.

 

So what’s the harm? The capitalist in me sees marketers exploiting branding opportunity to new demographics – using a countercultural cache. However, this is thwarted by Drank’s similarity in name, appearance and to some extent effect, to the illegal substance – known in the vernacular under a myriad of names, most notably Purple Drank, Syrup, Lean and Texas Tea – a heady mix of prescription-grade codeine-infused cough syrup, Sprite and (occasionally) crushed pieces of Jolly Rancher candy.

Still, for more than 9,000 Facebook followers that seems to be the predominant appeal: it’s ‘gangsta’ innit? Cue hoards of middle class American kids badly mimicking the behaviours of street criminals complete with purple soda to hand. It’s a bit silly, but as long as no one really believes they can forge a legitimate and prosperous career touting women and drugs, and assuming Drank’s signature drowsiness doesn’t kick in when said wannabe hoodlums are behind the wheel of the brand-spanking new Escalade that mummy and daddy bought them for Christmas,  no-one’s getting hurt.

 

While some detractors will of course bemoan the very existence of Drank, arguing it’s a fine line between soda consumption and hardcore drug abuse, it stands to reason that this time, they might be on to something. However, Drank or no Drank, those seeking an excuse for substance abuse will largely find it. If the existence of an edgy soda is held wholly accountable for a sudden upsurge in narcotic use then perhaps there’s a legitimate reason for public outcry. This would no doubt increase sales 100-fold among a certain demographic.

 

It brings to mind the ‘Gurana’ infused drinks, ‘buzz gum’ and even chocolate bars that started cropping up in the late 90’s here in the UK. I’ve no doubt that whilst Gurana’s potent energy-boost was a draw for the tired and hungry, the fact the word sounds a bit like ‘marijuana’ and that product packaging and branding had a signature green colour often featuring pictures of suspicious-looking leaves was probably impetus enough for youngsters to buy in. I know I did.

 

Kids eh?

L'il Drank?

 

Kansei Design and the Evocation of Emotion in Advertising

Baby wants Blue Velvet.

The late Dennis Hopper’s compelling portrayal of depraved psychopath Frank Booth, in David Lynch’s 1985 film Blue Velvet, is the stuff of nightmares. Drunken rampages, obscure sexual peccadilloes and Italian nightclub singers aside, what’s most tellingly complex about this character is his silenced, understated weeping when certain buttons are pressed. For example, upon hearing a rendition of Roy Orbison’s In Dreams, he becomes a weakened bowl of emotional mush.

What is it that can provoke such an intense display of emotion? While individually we’re pre-disposed to responses based on our own life experiences, conditioning and opinions, there are more subliminal, universal responses we all react to.

We’re all subject to having our emotional responses manipulated to some degree – Disney has a lot to answer for ¬– but how could brands do this? Is there a formula at work?

To some extent, yes there is – Kansei Design – a Japanese concept that seeks to forge emotional connections between people and brands. On a basic level, the Kansei concept of blending sensitivity and oneness with nature, is very clear cut, but on a technical level – it’s highly complex.

Kansei engineering, popular in automotive design, refers to the translation of consumers’ psychological feelings about a product into perceptual design elements. Sometimes referred to as “sensory engineering” or “emotional usability” this technique involves determining which sensory attributes elicit particular subjective responses from people, and then designing a product using the attributes which elicit the desired responses.

Do with that information what you will – but don’t be overwhelmed by the words.

In a very superficial way, it makes perfect sense – find out what makes people like a product, make it look appealing, and exploit that. However, if brands truly want to become more meaningful to people’s lives they need to get inside their heads, and what better way of doing so that by eliciting a raw emotional experience?

I’m not talking about people identifying with brands, liking a TV campaign or engaging with its Facebook community – imagine if a brand could instil fear, panic, euphoria or hysteria in the way it’s presented.

How could a box of chocolates make someone cry?
What if it a new flavour of soda could make people laugh uncontrollably?
What psychological stimulus is needed to turn buyers away from a competitor product?

Supposing this sort of insight was available – what would brands do with this information at their disposal? It’d be total carnage.

Perhaps we’d all end up like Frank – hypersensitive, dangerously unstable and prone to substance abuse.

In Imitation of a Reverse Letter ’S’

Good ideas, they say, are as rare as ‘rocking horse shit’ or ‘hen’s teeth’ – depending on which end of the animal you feel most comfortable with.

Perhaps that’s why creative people are always advised to look outside of their chosen industry when searching for the coveted ‘Big Idea’. And who better to seek counsel from than the late, great music supremo, Malcolm McLaren.

McLaren himself was often criticised for making British Popular Culture into ‘nothing more than a cheap marketing gimmick’, but his passion for creativity was second to none. Sex Pistols aside, the remainder of his career saw him behind the scenes bringing hip-hop to the attention of an international audience, and orchestrating a series of divine aural concoctions – including an album fusing his love of opera with 80s pop music.

Consider his 1989 hit, Waltz Darling – taken from the album of the same name. Allegorical as they are, McLaren’s conclusive maxims on dance floor etiquette can be also read as a guide for best practice for brands looking to gain share of voice across the online media landscape:

‘Never put your hands on a man except in dancing,
Whispering, giggling at the same time have no place in good society,
Don’t think you can be rude to anyone and escape,
Whispering is always rude,
Don’t hang on to anyone for support,
Don’t stand or walk with your chest held in and your hips forward,

In imitation of a reverse letter S’.

Looking at each of the above lines in isolation, McLaren’s words strongly resonate with a good deal of the do’s and don’ts of social media marketing:

• Don’t do anything that could be deemed inappropriate – unless the occasion condones it. Follow the examples set by others, operate by the rules set by the community concerned.

 

• In-jokes, underhanded conversations that mean little to anyone outside of a small group excludes others, and is bad practice when looking to gauge Twitter followers or Facebook fans. Content should be straightforward, accessible and inclusive

Still Waltzing, Darling

• Being rude to anyone on a social media platform is a huge mistake. Not only can it impact on how a brand is perceived, it can have wider implications when others get wind of it and subsequently lend their support to the injured party. The fact all faux pas are recorded online means insults can stick around like a bad smell.

 

• Tagging your brand onto the coattails of others should be avoided. What matters is authenticity. Brands looking to forge a new identity among consumers via social media need to build it from the bottom up. Only then can marketers ensure they’ve created a genuine grass roots following and a unique platform that serves the needs of both the brand and its fans.

 

• Posturing and positioning are key. This means no slacking off. Once a branded community has set a precedent, members expect a certain level of regular engagement.

All things considered, as tenuous as these comparisons may appear, it stands to reason that concepts which may seem unrelated can be appropriated to suit any agenda. That’s the real creative challenge – making connections between different ideas to serve a singular purpose.

Next week – the opportunity inherent in Augmented Reality location-based systems, as perceived through a re-reading of Knut Hamsun’s Hunger.

 

Ubiquitous and Meaningless: Ubiningless or Meubiquitous?

What the hell does ‘mumblecore’ mean? Don’t bother directing me to Wikipedia, because that’s not the point of this exercise.

The point is that it appears to be one of several zeitgeisty terms that are at once all pervasive and devoid of sensible foundation. Someone, somewhere thinks it’s ok to bastardise two perfectly good words for the sake of creating a single word that conjoins the two.

Perhaps I read The Guardian on Saturdays too much and take too keen an interest in the banal scribblings of its culture vultures. However, as much as I enjoy a good watchword, I object to the creation of categories, labels and monikers for its own sake.

‘Mumblecore’ seems to define any film involving Michael Cera. In fact, I’d even go as far to say, he defines the term – understated, lo-fi shyness combined with the naive warmth of outsider art. So why define this as something rather than allow that which is ‘mumblecore’ to exist solely as artistic expression itself?

Actually, forgetting its wonky foundations, what’s more offensive is the fact that terms like this are suddenly liberally peppered across the pages of culture magazines and websites. The effect is that readers are suddenly faced with a term that didn’t exist a week before, leaving one to wonder – where it came from. It’s like missing an episode of Mad Men, picking it up a week or two down the line, and not knowing what the heck went on. And because you get so fed up with not understanding, you feel disorientated and disillusioned, and abandon watching the show altogether.

Another term I object to is ‘smirting’. I appreciate the need for fraternisation among social pariahs who find themselves banished to the outer reaches of drinking establishments to get a lungful, but why invent a word to define ‘smoking whilst flirting’?

I recall a rather stupid ad campaign a few years back – for a car brand – think it was Seat. To describe the model’s defining properties – both spacious and safe – the monotone female voiceover coined the term ‘Spafe’ as a fitting description of the car.

If these sorts of words are going to enter our common parlance, let’s at least go the whole hog and equip them with unique properties of their own:

Mumblecore Porn – Low budget films depicting shy American boys winning the hearts of spiky androgynous girls, before whipping out impressive appendages and going at it hammer and tongs.

Spafe Sacks – Roomy, yet secure holdalls with hidden pockets – perfect for stashing large amounts of cash, narcotics and fake passports.

Smirting Stations – Outdoor smoking shelters that come kitted out seats to cosy up to that guy who you exchanged a casual glance with at the bar, and a notice board to leave messages and phone numbers on – oh hang on – that’s just a bus stop isn’t it?

My Other Car’s a Rabbit

What’s another year? Another 365.25 days that’s what.
I know leap years pick up the slack every four years, but what if we could harness the Quarter Day to do something else?
Last year I decided to implement my own calendar, and embrace the Quarter Day – simply by tagging it onto New Year’s Eve, and celebrating the arrival of 2010 at 6:30 am. However, what did I do with the extra quarter day? I slept.

Cognitive surplus is all the rage, so I’ve earmarked this year’s Quarter Day – which will see me ring in 2011 at a more acceptable 1 pm – for a bit of creative consolidation. This means I’ll take all of the disparate ideas I’ve had over the past 12 months – and, like a more accomplished, if less quixotic Mickey Mouse in Fantasia – mentally solder deep held allegoric fragments for the common good.

My starting point is rabbit cars. Cars that look innocuous enough until the driver slams shut the door, whereupon it assumes the form of an albino rabbit to all but those inside the vehicle, who continue to view the plush upholstered interiors, oak veneer dashboard and air conditioning as if they were securely encased in a family saloon. They’ll also be able to enjoy full visibility through any one of the side, front or back windows, as if it were an automobile.

But it’s not. It’s a rabbit.

What I do with this idea remains to be seen. I need a plan of action – a strategic vision of implementation, a business plan, a marketing scheme, details of material suppliers, research and development – KPIs – shit like that. But I just don’t have the time to do it all. So by creating new, legitimate extensions to the temporal ellipse, I’ll be able to fulfil my potential.

As you can imagine, I’m very excited – but realise I mustn’t get ahead of myself. In fact I am already. Still, part of the challenge of being a creative strategist is managing my own workload, expectations and ability.

What sucks is that I’ll miss viewing all the great cartoons they show on the morning of any given public holiday, in real time. Recording them just isn’t the same – like the theatrical experience, there’s something magical about the immediacy of time-slot appropriate TV/viewer interchanges. There’s always next year, I guess.