Monday, November 14, 2005

Alex, be subservient

Today I got one of my three times per week Creativity emails. It’s rare that I fully read them. But when I saw Crispin Porter in the first paragraph, I perked up a little, curious to see what the boys down south were doin’. Then I was brought to adcritic, where I watched one of the worst ads I have ever seen. (If I knew how to do links, I’d bring you to it. But remember, I’m an idiot waitress). I watched them borrow interest from a passed his reincarnated fame celebrity, Flava Flave. Then I saw them make an idiotic parallel between his name and being a “taste expert.” Then conclude with a completely irrelevant outcry that succumbs to the humor of tasteless drunk college students who have no idea what kind of formerly insightful and thoughtful work use to flow out of that place. They went from seeking praise at Cannes, to going for the laugh from your average Bevis. He hu he hu.

What happened, Crispin Porter? My once favorite agency. You were one of the reasons I got back into advertising. Yeah, you rejected me for that AE job I interviewed for. But instead of getting bitter, I enrolled in ad school, eager to be just like you. “Oh isn’t that cool!” I thought. “They put a Mini on an SUV!” I adored the Mini small thoughts copy. Reading the last words…”Be careful of long advertisements. The ones that go on and on. Those…will…get…you…every…time.” Yes, you got me and you can get me over and over again! I got choked up the way those pathetic chick flick watching girls do when they recite their favorite dialogue from Beaches. I went on Subservient Chicken at least three times per day and commanded him to hump the couch….HUMP THE COUCH!!! It was inspiration I thought only Oscar Wilde could provide. But then, like Poor Oscar did so many years ago, Crispin Porter Bogusky, laid down and died.

How could the same agency that wrote Ikea Lamp approve Chilltop? The same Creative director who inspired the Office (“That’s not cool.” “You’re not cool.” Oh so very cool!) decide to hire HOOTIE AND THE FUCKING BLOWFISH to sing the praises of the same fast food? Ugoff, you were my homosexual fashion designing fantasy. But now the King conceptlessly runs across a football field to say what, exactly? It’s like Dorothy parker coming back to life and writing Mandy Moore lyrics. Oh CPB, to quote Clare McNalley, “WHAT ARE YOU [FUCKING] TRYING TO SAY!!!!”

I realize that these are big words from the unemployed. And if I hadn’t slept in almost 3.5 years my career may be equally plummeting. But Alex, I’m not ready to see your tombstone erected yet. I don’t want to lay you to rest in the graveyard of Y&Crap and McCrap Erikson. Let your writers sleep, Alex. Give them a vacation. Visit each of their offices and one by one pull their heads out of each of their asses. Because it’s dark up there. And they can’t see what’s going on when their view is obstructed by their own colons. Get a nap, take some asprin and HUMP THE COUCH, GODAMIT! After a head clearing orgasm, maybe you can come back to us and bring all that brilliance back from your quickly approaching grave.

9 comments:

melvin said...

i agree with concha...alex and his slave gang need naps and some bigger/better ideas.

bitemycookie said...

hump the couch.
i'm lovin it.

concha said...

oh yea! i'm so excited. new commenters...i'm lovin that! :)

Jaime Schwarz said...

and from you're old commenter...

I'm sorry, but I laughed at Flava Flave!

Though I do agree: where are they going? What's happening? There is a distinct diluting going on. Nothing they can't recover from, some people might not even notice if they turn back now, but there really is a part of me that's ready for a new King.

concha said...

yeah, i agree. i'm sick of saying crispin. and ready for concha. concha & the rican. hmm...maybe that's a good agency title. not saying i'd hire him, but i like the name...

bitemycookie said...

crispin is so 2004.
time to bury the "king" if ya know what i mean. i wonder if that king is just alex's homage to himeself.

RBrown said...

ICKKKKKK. Maybe those fucking 24 hour cots just got uncomfortable after, oh, 41 days in a row. Or maybe people just decided the overall bending over must cease. Maybe The King was giving everyone wet willies, that annoying bastard.

The nail in the coffin was Hootie and the Fantasy Ranch. PUH-leaaaze.

concha said...

if it is, bitemycookie, then he's also apparently in the closet...coming out vicariusly through BK.

living out your gay fanatsies through fast food. really, it's time to take a nap.

Anonymous said...

Advertising is not meant for advertising experts. It is meant for consumers. In America, American consumers. What do you know about average Americans? Here's a hint....they're fucking idiots. If advertising firms don't make these retarded ads for their clients, they get no business and go broke. Then they would be left unemployed, writing blogs on the internet for free. As much as you artsy fartsy ad folks hate to realize it, your job is to create for the beer drinking college students, valium popping housewives, and homosexual club promoters, as they are the only fucking people who have time to sit around watching TV and reading magazines.

And it's spelled "Beavis" bitch.