A long time a go in a place far, far away, a certain class of people were once not so affectionately known as retards. Now, far more affectionately, if a bit sterile-sounding, they're known as mentally-impaired/challenged/disabled. As well, there once was a class of people known as cripples. These very same people are now known as the handicapped.
In the 19th century, doctors coined the terms midget and dwarf to describe people whose height was other than normal or proportional. These height-challenged (oops, did we just make up a new one?) are now known as little people. Doctors even threw around the terms moron, imbecile and idiot to describe people of varying (and low) IQ levels. Now, not so much.
Hoping to make a profitable business out of the flurry of activity over digital media asset ownership and the associated royalties tied to the ownership if those assets, Virginia-based Digital Bazaar has introduced Bitmunk, a patented "watermarking and royalty distribution technology" which the company hopes will usher in an eBay-like marketplace for audio, video, documents and games.
As explained on its wiki site, "the Bitmunk software would handle all of the sales, receipt handling, monetary transfer, watermarking and ensuring legal compliance during the sale. The Bitmunk software is also used to transact movies, electronic books, medical records and many other forms of digital content."
There are so many confusing messages emanating from the cover of this Lands' End catalog, we simply don't know where to start. First, there' the very curvaceous back end of women juxtaposed just beneath the title of the catalog, Lands' End, as if illustrative of some sort of early American west conquest for land but with a tone far removed from that depicted in the Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman movie Far and Away.
Then, there's the young boy tugging on the women's spandex-like skirt with a cute, semi-mischievous look on his face. Is the woman his mother? Is the boy just some random kid grabbing at some random woman's skin tight, bathing suit-like skirt? Is he just doing what all men eventually do, literally or figuratively, when they grow up? Or is this some art director's realized wet dream?
Okay. Anybody douchey enough to rip the premise to Patrick Suskind's Perfume, with penguins, and pass the idea off as "uncharted territory" (they SAID this! We SWEAR!), should be chained to a wall, completely naked, and shaved once weekly until the end of time.
Insult to injury, the supposed YouTube debate that the video triggered is completely contrived and thrown-together by a bunch of people who either joined on the same day or don't have profiles.
We're actually scandalized. This is one of those "I CALL SHENANIGANS", like, from-the-rooftops! moments.
Oh yeah, the video is called Penguin Love and it's for Columbia Sportswear.
For ever-struggling K-Mart, Rhinofx created the hopelessly lovable Mr. Blue Light, whose earnest eyes only promise to draw pity and a start of anxiety, the way you feel when in the presence of an imaginary friend whose death is just around the corner. (We have been the crying-shoulder for many broken dreams.)
Our earnest friend will appear in ad spots and stores - and then, we're sure, disappear into the unregulated chaos of K-Mart just as quickly. He just looks too weak to save the monster that is K-Mart's suckiness, man.
Observe his lame attempts at smooth jokes at a KMart runway show.
Brazilian youth magazine Simples is pushing a drunk driving awareness campaign with the help of DDB, Sao Paulo, which threw together these psychedelic concert flyers for dead musicians.
"These artists are all dead, but they are very alive in heaven -- or hell? -- and they must be happy playing their music there," says writer Aricio Fortes to AdCritic. "The only way to go see them is to die stupidly and fast."
Hey, if Mozart, Beethoven and Bach took the slip-and-slide to the fiery depths, it can't be that bad.
Anyway, posters like the one at left invite the curious onlooker to check out their (snarling?) composer of choice in the afterlife. All you have to do is drink and drive.
How very creepy.
For inebriates not keen on an eternity of Beethoven's Fifth, there's always slipper pong.
BookExpo America in NYC recently hosted to a wrist-slapping of, well, anticlimactic proportions. But to be nice, we're sure it'll make Google think twice before molesting another guy's industry -- er, intellectual property.
Macmillan Publishers CEO Richard Charkin boasts about walking up to Google's booth and taking the reps' computers, thereby teaching them a valuable lesson about stealing the travails of tortured writers and digitizing it.
We're not sure what the attendants were doing that their computers could be nipped from right under their noses. We're even less sure why they didn't notice until about an hour later, which is when they began to freak-the-fuck-out.
The smug CEO then returned the laptops and gave them the ol' "hope you enjoyed a taste of your own medicine."
A mean jab at the Triumvirate if we ever saw one. Get down with your bad self, Charkin.
In a desperate attempt to re-spin the London Olympic 2012 logo fiasco into something more positive, the agency behind the log has huddled around the office to see how they can turn the ship around. This captioned photo tells the true inside story of an agency under fire.
For Brazil's Brahma Beer, agency Nice Shoes put together this head-bopping spot about improvising to keep entertained. We liked the mellow vibe - it actually made us want to lie around and drink while watching two sweaty heaving men play pong with flip-flops.
We're ashamed to say we never considered slipper pong, but that's because we have Candystand.
Really. Why exhaust your brain in the scorching heat when you could sit inside on the Internet and work on your emo pallor? Bloodless has so replaced sun-kissed.
We hardly recognize the McDonalds we've come to know so well in this stop motion ad by DDB, Chicago and production company Vitamin.
Stop motion is, like, the new sex (Lux best demonstrates: 1, 2). Gotta say, the method that helps make soap sexy can also do wonders with McD's.
The only question is, can the crisp and health-savvy ad get rid of the perpetual moisture that seems to plague the restaurant's floor? Or the square-shaped eggs in the breakfast sandwiches that betray utter non-freshness? Or the unhappy-looking, sickly-colored cheese? Or the flat and unimpressive non-meat-tasting patties?
Like hook-ups on MySpace, McDs runs the risk of traumatizing the ad-charmed with its actual appearance.