Funn

Hoardings piss me off. Wrote Galacktiqua about them. I even wear a line from the chorus - "Even my body is advertising space" above the TAAQ logo - proudly on a white Tee. Ah, the subtle irony of that makes my gonads shiver at just how cool I am. How subversively brilliant. And so, with a sense of self that is beginning to look somewhat like a Puffer fish, here I go...

Planet M, in an incredibly dumbass, lame effort to revive flagging fortunes, has a new hoarding campaign. Central to this fresh round of stupidity is a banana-coloured insipid character called Yomo. Oh what a 'cool' name. And his coolness, of course, is underlined by the artful goatee he wears - you know, the kind you can grow only with diligent, time-eating application of various metro-sexual razors, hair-trimmers and goatee-o-matics. Yomo promises to 'Redefine Funn'. Once he learns to spell, perhaps he could show us all the way. In true scintillating fashion, Funn is now 'tapping your feet to the music' and 'behaving like a child when you win a game'. What crap. You want to sell me crappy mobile phones, crappy one-hit wonders and even crappier celluloid concoctions, bring on the cleavage, baby. You flash it just about everywhere else anyway. Didn't you guys invent the mantra that sex sells? Have you so desensitized yourselves through your obsession with titillation that you want to try and get 'clever' now? Didn't your dadimas ever tell you that such obsessions only lead to hairy palms, low IQ and so forth?

Of course, if I'm served the usual dish of tits-and-ass marketing, I'm going to scream bloody murder as well. Get used to it.

So, how would you really sell anything to me? Tell it like it is, idiots. If you're peddling crap, and not smart enough to realize that your audience knows how bad it smells, you may as well jump in, get warm and happy, and start singing. Sing about how crap can be cool too. Celebrate the transience of it all, glorify our petty urban obsession with meaningless entertainment. Cheer our lemming-like narrow-mindedness, applaud our feeble attempts at making life fun(n). In short, be honest. Tell the truth. In this crazy world of ours, you could be surprised how many takers you'll find. Including curious cats like me.

Sure, hoardings piss me off. But tell me tomorrow that you'll put together a massive tour for my band, with plenty of 'exposure' through mass media, hoardings etc., and watch me sit up and beg. There, you've found the button that works for me. Only makes me dislike you even more. That's the truth.

What crap.