If there’s one thing that gets my chopper hard – and not in a good way – it’s bad driving.
I know am not alone in this. Nearly everyone I know lists bad driving as one of their pet peeves. It sure does piss us off, but does anyone do anything about it? I do. I regularly contribute to the report a bad driver scheme that the NZ Police run through their website: www.police.govt.nz. It may not be much, but it’s a start.
All you need is the car rego and you are about three clicks away from anonymously dobbing the bastard in. Not totally anonymous, the Police will know who you are of course, but the dude with the mullet in the rust bucket that just flew past you doing a 130km on the motorway won’t! It's that easy, Try it sometime.
Here in NZ we have what we like to call, the ‘she’ll be right’ attitude. It’s a crap attitude, lets be honest. It might be quaint and cute and oh so Kiwi, but it’s the reason we don’t lock murderers and kiddie fiddlers away for nearly long enough. It’s the same reason we elect the same muppets every couple of years to spend our taxes on their tummy tuck operations and it’s the reason why other countries treat us with about as much respect as a floaty that just won’t flush.
The attitude works a little something like this – we don’t really care about something unless it directly affects us. So crime is cool, until some one steals my TV, then I’m really going to have something to say on the matter. Kiddie fiddling is not cool, but I don’t have any kids of my own so I needn’t worry about it (unless you’re doing the fiddling). Dangerous driving is okay, cause the hoon has just passed me, so I’m safe.
It’s a blase take on everything and the irony is, in some cases we even condone it by admiring those who get away with it. If it’s not a crime in our eyes, then is it really wrong? Of course it is, genius.
A large number of people don’t see dangerous driving as a crime and that is a big part of the problem. These people openly criticise the Police for putting resources into road safety , usually because they just got issued a ticket. These are the type of pricks that are of the opinion that it was okay to do what they were doing at the time, because they are more important than you and I. If there was any justice in the world it would be them that end up colliding with the drunk driver.
There are of course, other contributing factors too. For a small country, we are always trying to cover short distances in the shortest period of time. If we didn’t learn to drive from someone who was a bit shoddy behind the wheel themselves, then we learnt from the PlayStation. We mentally switch off when we get inside our two tonne pile of metal, thinking that we’re safe, because we know what we’re doing. No one else does, but hey - she’ll be right.
Then we turn on our iPods, crank up the sub woofers till the ears bleed and cocoon ourselves in a world of sensory deprivation. We buy big new powerful cars because the slick advertising promises us that we’ll have flaw proof handling and acceleration. These ads never mention that the wink link in all this sits behind the wheel. It also doesn’t help that once we have our license, never again are we tested on our abilities to handle a car. Especially the big new powerful one. Yeah, she'll be right.
We also have a binge drinking culture, which needless to say, doesn’t exactly help the issue. But more on that in a later blog methinks.
Here’s what I say to the ‘she’ll be right attitude’ to dangerous driving. Let’s collectively get down to the pharmacy of life and cash in our prescription for a set of testicles. Let’s get behind anybody or anything that makes it difficult for people to drive dangerously. Let’s have a culture where if some munter tailgates you on the motorway at 120km that it’s him that feels intimidated. Better yet, let’s vote for people who promise to pass legislation that makes a ‘citizens beating’ a legal form of speed reduction. I bet everyone will sit on 90 the day that law is passed because we’ll all be waiting to chase down anyone who drifts over a 100!
If we can collectively get behind fifteen blokes in short shorts chasing another fifteen blokes in short shorts then we can get behind a real cause. Don’t leave it for the overworked and under resourced Five-0, don’t leave it till someone you love is hurt / injured / killed. I'm just guessing here, but if that day ever happens (and I sincerely hope it doesn't), I'm picking she'll no longer be right. Right?
I don’t know about you, but given the choice between the two, I’d rather someone stole my TV than killed my loved ones in a car crash.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Three's A Crowd - Even On The Radio
Three, as the saying goes, is a crowd.
So why do radio stations persist in having three or more Muppets hosting their breakfast shows? Who made up the rule that three was cool? Three is annoying and is as unfunny collectively as I suspect they are individually. And what about the stations where the producer chimes in making it a foursome? There’s a reason you couldn’t cut it as a DJ at radio school mate, because you weren’t funny then either.
All they do is talk, about shit. And not just once. If you’ve ever had the distinct misfortune of listening to a breakfast radio show here in NZ for longer than 15 minutes, then you soon start to realise they’re repeating themselves. They will always revisit what they talked about in the last 15 minutes. By the third time round, they’re actually repeating their last repeat! If the first bit sucked – which it usually does - then not surprisingly, so does the 43rd rendition.
It’s true that opinions are like anuses, we all have one. But I certainly don’t want to see your anus in the morning and I don’t want your opinion. If I wanted to listen to retards giving me their take on life in the morning I would tune in to talkback. That’s 24 / 7 anus. Some of it even makes more sense.
So why the constant repeat? All the radio research shows that people only ever listen to the radio in 10 – 15 minute bursts. That’s why play lists are often repeated every couple of hours – the bastards have worked out that that is when you’re next likely to be listening and that’s why the three stooges endlessly repeat themselves. They want to catch you before you hop in the shower and after you get out, before you take a dump and after you’ve finished.
Here's a thought - why not save time then and dump in the shower? Depends on your diet I suppose.
There is only one way round this phenomenon. That’s messing with the mind and ultimately the results of the tele-researcher. I love it when a tele-researcher calls, especially when it’s for something like radio stations, of which I know just about all of them. I have a mega memory for random and inconsequential things like that. Don't ask me how, its just the way I roll.
So the researcher asks you a series of questions about which stations you know, which you listen too and for how long. I list them all. Even the foreign language ones and I make like I change them on my wireless quicker than I do my mind. I contradict my earlier answers in the survey too and generally do the researchers head in so much I suspect many of them hand in their resignation at the end of that very shift.
I did that job once – I resigned at the end of my first shift. I only did it because I fancied the friend who got me the job. I therefore know how to hook in a tele-researcher. They’re so often the brunts of the cold hang up that when someone genuinely begins answering your questions you’re hooked like a dog on another dogs crack. The guy answering their questions could literally whack one out whilst on the phone and still not risk being hung up on.
I even regulary fill out an on line survey of the current playlist that the local radio station sends me. I do it because I hate what they play (my wife incidentally loves their playlist) and I love letting them know. Funnily enough they’ve stopped sending me those surveys.
All this talking means less music and ironically, less space for advertising – the bread and butter of any station. By the time the three amigo’s have finished talking, I have long tuned out on them and any advertising that might be of interest. I wonder how the advertisers feel about that? Radio should return to what it’s good at. That’s playing good music, with hourly interruptions only for the news, sports and weather. And we only need the one guy to tell us the time.
Because three is certainly a crowd. Not, however, in the event of a spit roast, for in that instance, three is most definitely the magic number.
So why do radio stations persist in having three or more Muppets hosting their breakfast shows? Who made up the rule that three was cool? Three is annoying and is as unfunny collectively as I suspect they are individually. And what about the stations where the producer chimes in making it a foursome? There’s a reason you couldn’t cut it as a DJ at radio school mate, because you weren’t funny then either.
All they do is talk, about shit. And not just once. If you’ve ever had the distinct misfortune of listening to a breakfast radio show here in NZ for longer than 15 minutes, then you soon start to realise they’re repeating themselves. They will always revisit what they talked about in the last 15 minutes. By the third time round, they’re actually repeating their last repeat! If the first bit sucked – which it usually does - then not surprisingly, so does the 43rd rendition.
It’s true that opinions are like anuses, we all have one. But I certainly don’t want to see your anus in the morning and I don’t want your opinion. If I wanted to listen to retards giving me their take on life in the morning I would tune in to talkback. That’s 24 / 7 anus. Some of it even makes more sense.
So why the constant repeat? All the radio research shows that people only ever listen to the radio in 10 – 15 minute bursts. That’s why play lists are often repeated every couple of hours – the bastards have worked out that that is when you’re next likely to be listening and that’s why the three stooges endlessly repeat themselves. They want to catch you before you hop in the shower and after you get out, before you take a dump and after you’ve finished.
Here's a thought - why not save time then and dump in the shower? Depends on your diet I suppose.
There is only one way round this phenomenon. That’s messing with the mind and ultimately the results of the tele-researcher. I love it when a tele-researcher calls, especially when it’s for something like radio stations, of which I know just about all of them. I have a mega memory for random and inconsequential things like that. Don't ask me how, its just the way I roll.
So the researcher asks you a series of questions about which stations you know, which you listen too and for how long. I list them all. Even the foreign language ones and I make like I change them on my wireless quicker than I do my mind. I contradict my earlier answers in the survey too and generally do the researchers head in so much I suspect many of them hand in their resignation at the end of that very shift.
I did that job once – I resigned at the end of my first shift. I only did it because I fancied the friend who got me the job. I therefore know how to hook in a tele-researcher. They’re so often the brunts of the cold hang up that when someone genuinely begins answering your questions you’re hooked like a dog on another dogs crack. The guy answering their questions could literally whack one out whilst on the phone and still not risk being hung up on.
I even regulary fill out an on line survey of the current playlist that the local radio station sends me. I do it because I hate what they play (my wife incidentally loves their playlist) and I love letting them know. Funnily enough they’ve stopped sending me those surveys.
All this talking means less music and ironically, less space for advertising – the bread and butter of any station. By the time the three amigo’s have finished talking, I have long tuned out on them and any advertising that might be of interest. I wonder how the advertisers feel about that? Radio should return to what it’s good at. That’s playing good music, with hourly interruptions only for the news, sports and weather. And we only need the one guy to tell us the time.
Because three is certainly a crowd. Not, however, in the event of a spit roast, for in that instance, three is most definitely the magic number.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Girl on Girl
There is a lot of scary shit that sees print these days and I have to say that a good deal of it is to be found between the covers of what I like to refer to as ‘Girl on Girl’ magazines.
Unlike the name might suggest, there’s none of the ‘good stuff’ to be found in these types of magazines. Oh sure, there might be a bit of nipple or some ‘real bodies’ to see, but these will be limited to a few pages in the sealed section. These images are so ‘token’ in there placement that you can’t help but think that the magazine is touting the girls with normal bodies as being abnormal, when it’s really the other way round.
The worst thing you can hand an adolescent girl is a magazine aimed at adolescent girls. It is the loaded gun of the print industry. In all my years as a boy on the look out for anything vaguely soft porn, I have seen many a girl on girl publication and believe there is nothing more harmful to an impressionable young woman than a Dolly, Cleo or Cosmopolitan magazine.
And it’s funny because traditional sexploitation of women was something we men are always blamed for portraying. Admittedly, we did portray women like this back when men ruled the world. We still do, but we’re up front about it and always have been. We make ads selling hamburgers that feature well endowed girls in bikinis, bouncing along the beach on horses. Did you miss the connection between the two? You're not alone, I did too. But men are no longer the enemy here.
The Editors at the Girl on Girl magazines – all of whom are women – have taken it to a whole new level. They put Parasite Hilton, or celebrities who look a lot like Parasite Hilton on their covers. Inside they fill you in on how to dress, eat, talk, walk, be sexually promiscuous and even orgasm like Parasite. They’re not even subtle about it. Any wonder then so many young girls are bottle blonde? Does the carpet now not match the curtains? They can talk you through fixing that too.
And why do they have a disproportionate number of blondes over brunettes or redheads on their covers anyway?
Anyhoo - I have long held the belief that exploitation of young girls – or their sexual marketability – is something that is perpetrated equally by both sexes. Only we do it in different ways. Men are predictable, we’ll put the girl in a blatant sexually suggestive ad that has nothing to do with hamburgers. Women on the other hand, will teach their daughters how to shave their legs and dress provocatively. Whether they do it for the notice of men or to impress other women is irrelevant, the goal is the same – to be noticed, to be attractive, to sell. What’s worse then; selling minced meat with meat, or selling your self as a piece of meat?
A big stake holder in the girl on girl mags is the fashion industry, which has to be the biggest in-joke that no one ever gets. It really is some sort of Freemasonry where only those close to centre of the scam know it’s a scam. Once you’re in, they let you in on the joke which is something along the lines of “we’re really taking the piss – and no one has realised!” It’s all a bit like The Emperors New Clothes really, you make a big deal out of nothing and enough people will buy it.
Women’s magazines have taken the place of today’s Mothers who are too busy to teach their daughters the finer things in life, like how to develop a personality that is all you and not Parasite. Now it’s all about looking like celebrity so that you can share in their lifestyle, which of course the majority of their readers never will. They are decidedly hard core in peddling the unattainable.
The real crime is that millions of beautiful, talented, balanced girls buy these mags and are sucked in by the rubbish that their pages hold.
But hey, take heart ladies - when you find yourself in your bikini, astride your horse with a hamburger in your hand, you’ll always know where you stand with a guy.
Friday, August 10, 2007
The Fat Of The Land
Obesity is such a dirty word these days you can almost see the grease dripping off it. Many years ago, when the majority of the population weren’t fatty fatty boom booms, obesity was a clinical word that no one really used because very few of us came close to being obese. Now it’s like saying someone is Caucasian or dark skinned: “Oh you can’t miss Dave, he’s got brown hair, is obese and wears short shorts. The ones with the slits up the side…”
Now there’s more theories on just how people become obese than there are anuses in the world - and that’s a lot. I’m not about to launch into a deep and meaningful essay on the physiology of genetic obesity because I am not qualified to be that boring.
The crux of the problem as I observe it, is that obese people eat too much crap food and do too little quality exercise. Which, if you’re an adult is your prerogative, but when you see it happening to children, then you quite rightly look at their parents and ask “What the hell are you doing to your kids?!”
Incidentally, I have termed a new phrase which I call Parental Vacancy. It is a mindset that is developed easily and in fact, a lot of parents do it so well that they’re now actually over qualified. For those wanting to partake, simply do nothing. Because that’s how it works! NB: I will quite possibly explore this bit of ground breaking philosophy in a later blog, as I need to make up more of the details!
Here is the method of a classic Parental Vacant (PV) when it comes to guarding the calorie intake of their child:
“I work long hours because I get paid so little. I come home so tired that I let my children watch cartoons and play their video games whilst I prepare cheap and easy food that has very little nutrional value.(Repeat for every meal because PV is busy all day either preparing for, or winding down from, work). When we do the weekly grocery shop, I let my kids choose their food because they know what they like and they get the stuff in a green wrapper – because that makes it healthy.”
Which all sounds about as solid as you know that kid's stool is going to be thanks to all the fat and sugar inside the stuff in the green wrapper.
How’s this for a theory? Calories are cheap, exercising is expensive.
Perversely the gym fraternity help aide the obesity issue by making exercise expensive. No really. How much does your gym membership cost per week? Could what you do at the gym not be replicated with a few free circuits around the local park? Could you Roid Ragers who join a gym in order to bench press a small car, not invest in a set of home weights? Surely the initial outlay will recoup itself in the long term? Why do those gyms keep charging so much? Because you lot keep paying it. Being seen at the gym it seems, is far more valuable than what you do there.
This doesn’t help Tubbs sitting at home on the couch watching Cartoon Network. But he’s in the same boat, because playing any sort of organised sport these days is expensive and if Mum, Dad or the chain smoking nanny is too tired to take them outside to a park / playground / pool, what chance do they have? Organisations that run organised events charge the earth because they can. The alternative is free, but enough of us ain’t buying it.
Here in NZ the Government is trying to ban food advertising aimed at children from all after school TV. It’s a good start, but not nearly enough parents are vocally supporting them and we should be because the subliminal message that this advertising implants in a child’s mind is as good as anything McDonalds rustles up with their Paedophile clown. Throw in a parent taking no notice of the nutrional value of what their kids choose at the supermarket and that expensive cartoon advertising campaign that showed the sugar bar in a green wrapper? It just paid for itself.
Parents - engage your children and make the time to keep them active. It will be good for all of you if you do. Take an interest in what they eat and look at the food you shove down their throats as an investment in their future, not a chore. Be alert at the supermarket and put those reading skills of yours to action. Don’t buy stuff simply because it’s a green wrapper. Buy milk, not cheap sugared water. Don't pay for expensive sporting organisations because you think it's the only option, because it isn't. Hey, your parents did it with you and you turned out okay, right?
Unless you’re Dave in the short shorts. But there is no excuse for the slits up the side. You can't blame your parents for that.
Now there’s more theories on just how people become obese than there are anuses in the world - and that’s a lot. I’m not about to launch into a deep and meaningful essay on the physiology of genetic obesity because I am not qualified to be that boring.
The crux of the problem as I observe it, is that obese people eat too much crap food and do too little quality exercise. Which, if you’re an adult is your prerogative, but when you see it happening to children, then you quite rightly look at their parents and ask “What the hell are you doing to your kids?!”
Incidentally, I have termed a new phrase which I call Parental Vacancy. It is a mindset that is developed easily and in fact, a lot of parents do it so well that they’re now actually over qualified. For those wanting to partake, simply do nothing. Because that’s how it works! NB: I will quite possibly explore this bit of ground breaking philosophy in a later blog, as I need to make up more of the details!
Here is the method of a classic Parental Vacant (PV) when it comes to guarding the calorie intake of their child:
“I work long hours because I get paid so little. I come home so tired that I let my children watch cartoons and play their video games whilst I prepare cheap and easy food that has very little nutrional value.(Repeat for every meal because PV is busy all day either preparing for, or winding down from, work). When we do the weekly grocery shop, I let my kids choose their food because they know what they like and they get the stuff in a green wrapper – because that makes it healthy.”
Which all sounds about as solid as you know that kid's stool is going to be thanks to all the fat and sugar inside the stuff in the green wrapper.
How’s this for a theory? Calories are cheap, exercising is expensive.
Perversely the gym fraternity help aide the obesity issue by making exercise expensive. No really. How much does your gym membership cost per week? Could what you do at the gym not be replicated with a few free circuits around the local park? Could you Roid Ragers who join a gym in order to bench press a small car, not invest in a set of home weights? Surely the initial outlay will recoup itself in the long term? Why do those gyms keep charging so much? Because you lot keep paying it. Being seen at the gym it seems, is far more valuable than what you do there.
This doesn’t help Tubbs sitting at home on the couch watching Cartoon Network. But he’s in the same boat, because playing any sort of organised sport these days is expensive and if Mum, Dad or the chain smoking nanny is too tired to take them outside to a park / playground / pool, what chance do they have? Organisations that run organised events charge the earth because they can. The alternative is free, but enough of us ain’t buying it.
Here in NZ the Government is trying to ban food advertising aimed at children from all after school TV. It’s a good start, but not nearly enough parents are vocally supporting them and we should be because the subliminal message that this advertising implants in a child’s mind is as good as anything McDonalds rustles up with their Paedophile clown. Throw in a parent taking no notice of the nutrional value of what their kids choose at the supermarket and that expensive cartoon advertising campaign that showed the sugar bar in a green wrapper? It just paid for itself.
Parents - engage your children and make the time to keep them active. It will be good for all of you if you do. Take an interest in what they eat and look at the food you shove down their throats as an investment in their future, not a chore. Be alert at the supermarket and put those reading skills of yours to action. Don’t buy stuff simply because it’s a green wrapper. Buy milk, not cheap sugared water. Don't pay for expensive sporting organisations because you think it's the only option, because it isn't. Hey, your parents did it with you and you turned out okay, right?
Unless you’re Dave in the short shorts. But there is no excuse for the slits up the side. You can't blame your parents for that.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Choose Life?
I have just seen an ad on TV for presliced cheese. Not the individually wrapped kind we've always had, that ain't real cheese anyway (it's plastic), but a packet of cheese that is, well, sliced. So you don't have to.
Cheddar cheese - a malleable substance - and a knife. It's not exactly open heart surgery is it? But then that's modern life. It's all about convenience, choice and having the time to do the things you enjoy. Or at least that is what the advertising always tells you. Problem is, we're so busy trying to keep up with all the choices we think we have to make, that we find we have no time left to enjoy them.
Personally, I enjoy cutting the cheese - and I don't mean flatulence, although I do get tremendous enjoyment out of that. Not so much the act itself but the discomfort it brings others when you squeeze out a warm one, now that's gold. We have one of those wire cutter thingees that make it dead easy to slice cheese and in today's society where everything is already done for you, I take immense pride in delivering an even slice of cheese, every time.
You know where all this convenience is leading don't you? In the future we won't actually eat, because it will be too inconvenient. We'll simply have available to buy, preformed and prepacked stools that we can then drop down the carzie and flush away. Think of the precious time you will have saved by not eating. Or shitting.
But is too much choice an inconvenience?
A recent report found that an ever increasing number of Australian teenagers are feeling incredibly stressed in their lives trying to keep up with their choices. Which is ironic given that their generation has more choice than my generation ever dreamed of. In fact they have so much choice now that they simply do not know what to choose. Man, that is whack.
Of course the same social rules apply now as they did back in my day, it's important to look cool whilst stressing - but what is cool? One teenager's cool these days is another teenager's lame. So who or what do you choose?
Incidentally, I was cool before my time. I had Doc Marten shoes long before it was cool to have them. They were so rugged that the soles didn't bend on them for three years. Kids heard me a mile off as I slapped my way across the pavement. I longed for Nomads like all my mates and took to scuffing the shit out of my Docs so that I could get a pair. By the time I did, Nomads were gay and Doc Martens were the shizz. Those Nomads, that interestingly were hand made by an Indian man who lived up the road and who sold them door to door from a suitcase, lasted me for years.
I had a satchel too, way before it was cool to have one. I got hassled for having a man bag. The spastic (who couldn't walk good) with a handbag. By the time I got rid of the damn thing, guess what was the must have item of the constantly aroused pubescent teen at my school....
With choice comes convenience. Everything in today's world is disposable. The TV, the PlayStation, the iPod, the boyfriend, the wife. Why hang on to something that may have the slightest flaw when an upgrade is just a click away? You know what - the iPod isn't even the best MP3 player on the market for Christs sake - but it's cool and convenient to have what everyone else has, rather than making an informed choice. Because that means having to make an effort.
The institution of marriage is the classic example of the disposable lives we lead. When things get a little interesting, why would you choose to develop some testes and try to work things out, when it's easier to call it quits and find someone new? After all, there's an Internet full of Next Door Nikkis 'waiting to meet you'.
I recently had two young employees hand in their resignations after being with us for only three days. Their reasoning: The role was too technical. It was a level entry computing position, the only technical thing about it was that the keyboard had more buttons on it than their cellphones. I suspect I'll see them working down my local KFC any day now.
Is it any wonder then, that people, bombarded with so much choice and so much convenience, turn in increasing numbers to the likes of Methamphetamine, alcohol, or porn to fill their lives rather than develop the life skills needed to make decisions? Those three things are much easier to choose. Tune In, turn on, cop out.
Wasn't life easier when you only had three TV channels to choose from and not the sixty three you have now? When the only porn you had to call upon was the girls in their undies in the Farmers catalogue? When your Mum didn't work two jobs and go to the gym and actually took the time out to teach you how to cut cheese? I think so.
Cheddar cheese - a malleable substance - and a knife. It's not exactly open heart surgery is it? But then that's modern life. It's all about convenience, choice and having the time to do the things you enjoy. Or at least that is what the advertising always tells you. Problem is, we're so busy trying to keep up with all the choices we think we have to make, that we find we have no time left to enjoy them.
Personally, I enjoy cutting the cheese - and I don't mean flatulence, although I do get tremendous enjoyment out of that. Not so much the act itself but the discomfort it brings others when you squeeze out a warm one, now that's gold. We have one of those wire cutter thingees that make it dead easy to slice cheese and in today's society where everything is already done for you, I take immense pride in delivering an even slice of cheese, every time.
You know where all this convenience is leading don't you? In the future we won't actually eat, because it will be too inconvenient. We'll simply have available to buy, preformed and prepacked stools that we can then drop down the carzie and flush away. Think of the precious time you will have saved by not eating. Or shitting.
But is too much choice an inconvenience?
A recent report found that an ever increasing number of Australian teenagers are feeling incredibly stressed in their lives trying to keep up with their choices. Which is ironic given that their generation has more choice than my generation ever dreamed of. In fact they have so much choice now that they simply do not know what to choose. Man, that is whack.
Of course the same social rules apply now as they did back in my day, it's important to look cool whilst stressing - but what is cool? One teenager's cool these days is another teenager's lame. So who or what do you choose?
Incidentally, I was cool before my time. I had Doc Marten shoes long before it was cool to have them. They were so rugged that the soles didn't bend on them for three years. Kids heard me a mile off as I slapped my way across the pavement. I longed for Nomads like all my mates and took to scuffing the shit out of my Docs so that I could get a pair. By the time I did, Nomads were gay and Doc Martens were the shizz. Those Nomads, that interestingly were hand made by an Indian man who lived up the road and who sold them door to door from a suitcase, lasted me for years.
I had a satchel too, way before it was cool to have one. I got hassled for having a man bag. The spastic (who couldn't walk good) with a handbag. By the time I got rid of the damn thing, guess what was the must have item of the constantly aroused pubescent teen at my school....
With choice comes convenience. Everything in today's world is disposable. The TV, the PlayStation, the iPod, the boyfriend, the wife. Why hang on to something that may have the slightest flaw when an upgrade is just a click away? You know what - the iPod isn't even the best MP3 player on the market for Christs sake - but it's cool and convenient to have what everyone else has, rather than making an informed choice. Because that means having to make an effort.
The institution of marriage is the classic example of the disposable lives we lead. When things get a little interesting, why would you choose to develop some testes and try to work things out, when it's easier to call it quits and find someone new? After all, there's an Internet full of Next Door Nikkis 'waiting to meet you'.
I recently had two young employees hand in their resignations after being with us for only three days. Their reasoning: The role was too technical. It was a level entry computing position, the only technical thing about it was that the keyboard had more buttons on it than their cellphones. I suspect I'll see them working down my local KFC any day now.
Is it any wonder then, that people, bombarded with so much choice and so much convenience, turn in increasing numbers to the likes of Methamphetamine, alcohol, or porn to fill their lives rather than develop the life skills needed to make decisions? Those three things are much easier to choose. Tune In, turn on, cop out.
Wasn't life easier when you only had three TV channels to choose from and not the sixty three you have now? When the only porn you had to call upon was the girls in their undies in the Farmers catalogue? When your Mum didn't work two jobs and go to the gym and actually took the time out to teach you how to cut cheese? I think so.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Sex Doesn't Always Sell
I once wrote a scathing letter to a sports magazine I used to subscribe too. I had received my latest copy in the mail, had taken one look at the local C grade 'celebrity' on the cover clad in only a bikini and wondered - quite rightly too - what did this have to do with sport? Up till then, recent covers of the mag had been decidedly soft porn, so Eva the Vulgarian was the last straw as far as I was concerned.
I questioned the wisdom of having the magazine look no different to all the other soft core magazines bought by men who are too afraid to buy the mags in the plastic wrappers. Wouldn't it be better to have your magazine stand out on the news stand, rather than be lost in a see of airbrushed titties I asked? If you must stick with the theme I asked, why not have some of NZs champion sportswomen on the cover and promote a positive image of women?
To their credit the magazine printed my letter. The editors satirical reply hinged only on the premise that he suspected I was actually my wife, as both our names appear on our email. I guess he thought that no red blooded male would be complaining about a blonde in a string bikini. But he thought wrong.
To cut a long story short, the editor resigned a few months later (he now writes for a trashy Sunday paper). The new editor at the magazine changed the policy back to having actual sports people on the cover and the magazine seems to sell quite well these days. It is certainly a lot easier to find on the shelf. Proof then, that sex doesn't always sell.
Amusingly some IT magazines are yet to find that out though. Certainly nothing makes me more excited about my latest issue of Poindexter Monthly than a girl in a bikini holding a mother board on the cover.
See, I am a bit of an 'untypical' type of guy when it comes to things like this. But I don't believe I am the only one.
I enjoy rap music as much as the next frightened Caucasian, but the videos are absolutely disgusting. Not that this a phenomenon confined to rap music - soft core titillation is so mainstream these days that we've become numb to it. Yes, I realise that the women in the videos are paid for their time and do so by choice, but that doesn't make it right.
The ultimate irony to me is that rap 'musicians', who are predominantly Afro American, will rap lyrical about racial oppression and just how badly they're treated by the five-0, yet don't hesitate to promote women as being nothing more than possessions. What do their mothers think of all this I wonder?
How about the confused adolescent girl who gets her prompt on how she should act around boys from what she sees on MTV? What of the adolescent boy who does the same? How does he now expect to treat girls do you think? Skip forward down the chain of consequence with me a few steps - and now throw in the world wide web. Is it any wonder we have an ever increasing number of young girls exposing themselves (mentally and physically) online?
Parents should be playing a positive part in this type of scenario, but many don't. I especially applaud the mothers - and lets be honest here, it is the mother - who buys her 10 year old daughter the short skirt, knee high boots and padded bra combo. Allow me to offer some advice (it's free advice too): Your daughter is not a Barbie doll that you can dress provocatively in order to overcome your own self image anxieties! Just because you can't pull the outfit off, doesn't mean she should have to.
Now I don't necessarily believe there are more paedophiles around today than there were, say thirty years ago. Only now we make it more easier for the bastards to get their jollies by sexualising our kids - particularly our daughters.
So don't endorse anything that promotes the fallacy that soft porn is okay. Don't buy the crap the rappers record if their lyrics and videos continue to trash women. Don't buy the sports mag with the bikini on the front. Don't watch the incestuous programmes that portray life (and women) as being one big continuous shag. If enough people did, then the record company doesn't finance the crapper because his records don't sell. The sports mag returns to sports people on the front cover and the programme loses advertisers and eventually it's funding because no one is watching. It's that simple.
Most importantly, protect your kids. Sex doesn't always have to sell, not to your kids anyway. Don't dress your daughters like hookers. Clothes don't maketh the child, their innocence does.
I questioned the wisdom of having the magazine look no different to all the other soft core magazines bought by men who are too afraid to buy the mags in the plastic wrappers. Wouldn't it be better to have your magazine stand out on the news stand, rather than be lost in a see of airbrushed titties I asked? If you must stick with the theme I asked, why not have some of NZs champion sportswomen on the cover and promote a positive image of women?
To their credit the magazine printed my letter. The editors satirical reply hinged only on the premise that he suspected I was actually my wife, as both our names appear on our email. I guess he thought that no red blooded male would be complaining about a blonde in a string bikini. But he thought wrong.
To cut a long story short, the editor resigned a few months later (he now writes for a trashy Sunday paper). The new editor at the magazine changed the policy back to having actual sports people on the cover and the magazine seems to sell quite well these days. It is certainly a lot easier to find on the shelf. Proof then, that sex doesn't always sell.
Amusingly some IT magazines are yet to find that out though. Certainly nothing makes me more excited about my latest issue of Poindexter Monthly than a girl in a bikini holding a mother board on the cover.
See, I am a bit of an 'untypical' type of guy when it comes to things like this. But I don't believe I am the only one.
I enjoy rap music as much as the next frightened Caucasian, but the videos are absolutely disgusting. Not that this a phenomenon confined to rap music - soft core titillation is so mainstream these days that we've become numb to it. Yes, I realise that the women in the videos are paid for their time and do so by choice, but that doesn't make it right.
The ultimate irony to me is that rap 'musicians', who are predominantly Afro American, will rap lyrical about racial oppression and just how badly they're treated by the five-0, yet don't hesitate to promote women as being nothing more than possessions. What do their mothers think of all this I wonder?
How about the confused adolescent girl who gets her prompt on how she should act around boys from what she sees on MTV? What of the adolescent boy who does the same? How does he now expect to treat girls do you think? Skip forward down the chain of consequence with me a few steps - and now throw in the world wide web. Is it any wonder we have an ever increasing number of young girls exposing themselves (mentally and physically) online?
Parents should be playing a positive part in this type of scenario, but many don't. I especially applaud the mothers - and lets be honest here, it is the mother - who buys her 10 year old daughter the short skirt, knee high boots and padded bra combo. Allow me to offer some advice (it's free advice too): Your daughter is not a Barbie doll that you can dress provocatively in order to overcome your own self image anxieties! Just because you can't pull the outfit off, doesn't mean she should have to.
Now I don't necessarily believe there are more paedophiles around today than there were, say thirty years ago. Only now we make it more easier for the bastards to get their jollies by sexualising our kids - particularly our daughters.
So don't endorse anything that promotes the fallacy that soft porn is okay. Don't buy the crap the rappers record if their lyrics and videos continue to trash women. Don't buy the sports mag with the bikini on the front. Don't watch the incestuous programmes that portray life (and women) as being one big continuous shag. If enough people did, then the record company doesn't finance the crapper because his records don't sell. The sports mag returns to sports people on the front cover and the programme loses advertisers and eventually it's funding because no one is watching. It's that simple.
Most importantly, protect your kids. Sex doesn't always have to sell, not to your kids anyway. Don't dress your daughters like hookers. Clothes don't maketh the child, their innocence does.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Fast Food Nation?
My local KFC is looking to hire new staff.
I know this - not because I've been crimping with my homies again and got the low down - but because they've printed it in four foot high bright yellow lettering in their front window. A good piece of free advertising I suppose, but not the smartest move to pull outside the two busiest roundabouts in J Town. The locals live a charmed existence getting round the two of them as it is without The Colonel putting them off with his eight foot erection.
Incidentally - ever notice how The Colonel has mysteriously started to fade away on all the KFC signage and packaging? Oh he's still there - if you look close enough - but you really have to look. I'm not surprised though, the guy looks like a member of the KKK, only without the hood. He's even got a militaristic title. I guess 'Arch Deacon' was a little too much of a giveaway so they went with 'Colonel'. That, or he looks like a paedophile, which I've personally suspected for quite some time. Finger licken good anyone?
Anyhoo, the sign in the front window is nice and big and I guess it has to be when your target workforce is more akin to focusing on the tiny text of mobile phones. Either that or the urban myth about the 'something extra' in the coleslaw is actually true and the occupational hazard to that kind of carry on - as your mother always told you - is that you will eventually go blind. So best make the letters nice and big for all them adolescent boys who will have had plenty of practise by now aye?
I should point out at this point that I don't class every teenager as a stoner, for there are some incredibly bright kids out there, but it seems that the weaker link in their generation all work in fast food restaurants these days. There are however some hard working, thoughtful kids holding down these types of jobs too, so I exclude them also from my remaining unscientific generalisations.
KFC and all of the other fast food joints are on a real hiding to nothing these days. They've almost become the persona non grata of the eating world. Not that I'm distraught by this, because as a parent I have now come to see them as the kiddiefiddlers they all are (I'm still talking to you, Colonel!). They should be made by the Commerce Commission to remove the 'fast' from their advertising too, especially McDonalds who perversely, are now making all their burgers only as you order them. Not in advance, but while you wait. Kinda defeats the purpose of fast food doesn't it? But more on McDees later...
Once clean restaurants (and I lose that term loosely) are now no cleaner than picnic tables. When it's a struggle to get barely enough conscious staff to front the counter, you can bet you'll be cleaning your own table.
But it wasn't always this way. I remember as a child visiting places like KFC, Homestead Chicken, McDonalds etc and it was standing room only. Places staffed by a motivated, happy bunch of teenagers who were prepared to do whatever it took to make your experience a memorable one. Pay rates were even worse for teenagers back then, but these were places that gave opportunity and not just easy money. Working in a fast food place back then was a real teenage status symbol too. It didn't get much cooler than working at the Golden Tits.
I remember applying in person one Saturday for a handful of vacancies offered at the local McDees - there were so many kids my age there that had the Internet been around back then, I suspect it would have stopped that day because all the nerds were lining up together. I didn't get the job incidentally, possibly because my acne count was not as high as some around me that day.
It all changed in the early nineties though, when we started cottoning on to the fact that fatty food in large quantities would pretty much kill us. Thus we started to shy away from the hand that had fed us for so long.
Kentucky Fried Chicken - as it was known back then - decided to drop the 'fried' bit from it's name as a result. I actually met the guy who was in charge of KFC at that time and claims he was the brains behind the name drop. He was an inspiring man - one of those half is glass full types and when asked 'hows it going' would reply something along the lines of 'Brilliant' or 'Marvelous'. I've got a feeling he was also as bent as a row of tents though. Which is okay, if you like that sort of thing.
It wasn't long before all the established fast food joints started changing their menus, their advertising and their image. All in a desperate attempt to convince us that they had changed and that although they still cook everything in a bathtub full of fat - it was now good fat. We weren't buying it - literally.
McDonalds have even now introduced salads and rubbery pasta meals for kids too(ever wondered what happened to all the left over Happy Meal toys? They melt them down to make the pasta meals I reckon). None of it has worked though. The only thing that has gotten me back into a McDees after reading books like Fast Food Nation and watching Supersize Me, was the life size cutouts of Sarah Ulmer in her cycling gear. Alas, some bugger had beaten me to it though and had pinched the one from our local before I got the chance.
My advice to all the fast food companies in NZ like Restaurant Brands (who own KFC & Pizza Hut) is to forget fighting it, flaunt what you've got. People who want fatty fast food are still going to come through the door, because it's addictive. So don't pretend to be something you're not, go back to doing what you were best at.
Take all the money you put into feel good advertising and spend it on staff and improving the eating areas of your establishments. Don't worry about developing product ranges that don't match the rest of your menu. Let Subway sell subways - they're crap anyway and someone looking for a quarter pounder is not going to be happy with six inches. If it's worked for the local fish and chip shop for all these years - by far the busiest 'fast food' places any night of the week - it can work again for you.
Not McDonalds though. The anti-Christ of the fast food nation. My advice does not apply to you. For no other fast food company deliberately targets children like you bastards do. You have marketing strategies that begin with emotionally locking in children at the youngest possible age. It's a strategy that would make Adolf Eichmann proud. Don't know who he was? Google him, he had a master plan too.
True story - an employee of McDonalds was fired in the States because he couldn't in good conscience follow the marketing plan he was tasked with. What was his job at the company? He got to dress up as Ronald McDonald - the real paedophile in this story.
Never trust a clown, at least not one peddling a Happy Meal.
I know this - not because I've been crimping with my homies again and got the low down - but because they've printed it in four foot high bright yellow lettering in their front window. A good piece of free advertising I suppose, but not the smartest move to pull outside the two busiest roundabouts in J Town. The locals live a charmed existence getting round the two of them as it is without The Colonel putting them off with his eight foot erection.
Incidentally - ever notice how The Colonel has mysteriously started to fade away on all the KFC signage and packaging? Oh he's still there - if you look close enough - but you really have to look. I'm not surprised though, the guy looks like a member of the KKK, only without the hood. He's even got a militaristic title. I guess 'Arch Deacon' was a little too much of a giveaway so they went with 'Colonel'. That, or he looks like a paedophile, which I've personally suspected for quite some time. Finger licken good anyone?
Anyhoo, the sign in the front window is nice and big and I guess it has to be when your target workforce is more akin to focusing on the tiny text of mobile phones. Either that or the urban myth about the 'something extra' in the coleslaw is actually true and the occupational hazard to that kind of carry on - as your mother always told you - is that you will eventually go blind. So best make the letters nice and big for all them adolescent boys who will have had plenty of practise by now aye?
I should point out at this point that I don't class every teenager as a stoner, for there are some incredibly bright kids out there, but it seems that the weaker link in their generation all work in fast food restaurants these days. There are however some hard working, thoughtful kids holding down these types of jobs too, so I exclude them also from my remaining unscientific generalisations.
KFC and all of the other fast food joints are on a real hiding to nothing these days. They've almost become the persona non grata of the eating world. Not that I'm distraught by this, because as a parent I have now come to see them as the kiddiefiddlers they all are (I'm still talking to you, Colonel!). They should be made by the Commerce Commission to remove the 'fast' from their advertising too, especially McDonalds who perversely, are now making all their burgers only as you order them. Not in advance, but while you wait. Kinda defeats the purpose of fast food doesn't it? But more on McDees later...
Once clean restaurants (and I lose that term loosely) are now no cleaner than picnic tables. When it's a struggle to get barely enough conscious staff to front the counter, you can bet you'll be cleaning your own table.
But it wasn't always this way. I remember as a child visiting places like KFC, Homestead Chicken, McDonalds etc and it was standing room only. Places staffed by a motivated, happy bunch of teenagers who were prepared to do whatever it took to make your experience a memorable one. Pay rates were even worse for teenagers back then, but these were places that gave opportunity and not just easy money. Working in a fast food place back then was a real teenage status symbol too. It didn't get much cooler than working at the Golden Tits.
I remember applying in person one Saturday for a handful of vacancies offered at the local McDees - there were so many kids my age there that had the Internet been around back then, I suspect it would have stopped that day because all the nerds were lining up together. I didn't get the job incidentally, possibly because my acne count was not as high as some around me that day.
It all changed in the early nineties though, when we started cottoning on to the fact that fatty food in large quantities would pretty much kill us. Thus we started to shy away from the hand that had fed us for so long.
Kentucky Fried Chicken - as it was known back then - decided to drop the 'fried' bit from it's name as a result. I actually met the guy who was in charge of KFC at that time and claims he was the brains behind the name drop. He was an inspiring man - one of those half is glass full types and when asked 'hows it going' would reply something along the lines of 'Brilliant' or 'Marvelous'. I've got a feeling he was also as bent as a row of tents though. Which is okay, if you like that sort of thing.
It wasn't long before all the established fast food joints started changing their menus, their advertising and their image. All in a desperate attempt to convince us that they had changed and that although they still cook everything in a bathtub full of fat - it was now good fat. We weren't buying it - literally.
McDonalds have even now introduced salads and rubbery pasta meals for kids too(ever wondered what happened to all the left over Happy Meal toys? They melt them down to make the pasta meals I reckon). None of it has worked though. The only thing that has gotten me back into a McDees after reading books like Fast Food Nation and watching Supersize Me, was the life size cutouts of Sarah Ulmer in her cycling gear. Alas, some bugger had beaten me to it though and had pinched the one from our local before I got the chance.
My advice to all the fast food companies in NZ like Restaurant Brands (who own KFC & Pizza Hut) is to forget fighting it, flaunt what you've got. People who want fatty fast food are still going to come through the door, because it's addictive. So don't pretend to be something you're not, go back to doing what you were best at.
Take all the money you put into feel good advertising and spend it on staff and improving the eating areas of your establishments. Don't worry about developing product ranges that don't match the rest of your menu. Let Subway sell subways - they're crap anyway and someone looking for a quarter pounder is not going to be happy with six inches. If it's worked for the local fish and chip shop for all these years - by far the busiest 'fast food' places any night of the week - it can work again for you.
Not McDonalds though. The anti-Christ of the fast food nation. My advice does not apply to you. For no other fast food company deliberately targets children like you bastards do. You have marketing strategies that begin with emotionally locking in children at the youngest possible age. It's a strategy that would make Adolf Eichmann proud. Don't know who he was? Google him, he had a master plan too.
True story - an employee of McDonalds was fired in the States because he couldn't in good conscience follow the marketing plan he was tasked with. What was his job at the company? He got to dress up as Ronald McDonald - the real paedophile in this story.
Never trust a clown, at least not one peddling a Happy Meal.
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