Cider, like red wine, may contain some polyphenolic antioxidants that have health benefits. Research into the health benefits of red wine was prompted by the "French paradox", but somehow I can't see stereotypical cider-drinkers being identified as paragons of long-term health...
Cider, of course, also contains ethanol that the liver turns into acetaldehyde (nasty toxic stuff), en route to converting it to acetic acid thanks to the enzyme acetaldehyde dehydrogenase. Just hope your acetaldehyde dehydrogenase is working ok (and that you don't swamp it with too much acetaldehyde at one go by bingeing), otherwise you're stuck with the acetaldehyde for a while, which makes you feel like crap.
Incidentally, if cider pips are pressed as part of cider making, it will also naturally contain traces of hydrogen cyanide. But you would have to drink such vast quantities that you would suffer respiratory failure from the ethanol before the cyanide became a problem. So hey, I'll have a glass, but no ice in mine, please.
]]>Dogs seem to feature more than cats in TV adverts (e.g. the Andrex puppy), probably for good reason when it comes to working with them. But how about this "herding cats" advert?
While we're doing things cat-related, here's a product that should perhaps be marketed: the cat wheel. And here's one that perhaps shouldn't: the electric wheelchair for cats. Reminds me of Davros and I'm not convinced that moggy has any control over it whatsoever...
Incidentally, Churchill was a cat person and Hitler was a dog person. Perhaps that says something about their respective characters / leadership styles and deserves a Channel Five documentary, "Hitler and Churchill: the pets". Churchill's will stipulates that a ginger cat called Jock must always be kept at his house at Chartwell (the original Jock was on his bed when he died in 1965). Mussolini hated cats but Roosevelt had a six-toed silver tabby called Slippers. So maybe there's something in this WW2-leaders-and-their-pets perspective...
]]>In fact, the Gillette Fusion has six blades, five for the main razor and another on the back as a "precision trimmer" for "shaving tricky places (e.g. under the nose)". (Perhaps this is because the main razor is now so damn big with all the blades that it can't get under your nose...).
Being a neanderthal, Judge Jon still scrapes his face with disposable two-blade razors from China that cost 2.7 pence each. Admittedly they do not give as good a shave as the latest from Gillette. But the Fusion and its ilk cost 50x more, yet the shave they give is not 50x better. And what will be next in the razor arms race, I wonder?
]]>Given that I seem to have morphed into Chris Tarrant, no compilation would be complete without a bizarre Japanese toilet advert. Are these products aimed at anyone worried about getting germs from touching the toilet seat or the flush? Or is it for very lazy or very busy people? And what do the chicken and the frog have to do with it? Inscrutable... Mind you, I did once live with a medical student who wouldn't touch the toilet seat, despite spending her days cutting up dead bodies for anatomy class.
]]>In my youth Diamond White was the under-age tipple of choice. At 8.2% alcohol, a couple of bottles were a surefire way to get trollied. (Kids: don't do this at home. Or anywhere else. And certainly not outside my house of an evening). But in the late 1990s cider was displaced by alcopops.
Before the market declined, however, there was a dizzying variety of ciders out there. There was "K" (still available, I think?), which at 8.4% was the strongest you could get (soon followed by Brody from Taunton Cider). Anything above 8.4% would be classified as apple wine for duty purposes. And if Diamond White was king, Diamond Blush was its queen (about 5% and premixed with a splash of blackcurrant juice, hence the "blush"). But not an ice cube in sight: most were swigged out of the bottle like premium lagers.
And don't forget Red Rock cider, which was advertised on TV by Leslie Nielsen of Naked Gun movie fame (and 1956 sci-fi classic "Forbidden Planet") with the strapline "It's not red and there's no rocks in it". Actually I think it did contain rock salt, commonly used by brewers to smooth the taste. Incidentally, Red Rock Cider even has its own Wiki entry here (and I thought *I* had time on my hands...).
How come Judge Jon is so well-versed in cider lore, I hear you ask? Because I used to work in quality control for a well-known cider company at the height of its glory. And yes, I used to have to taste it as part of the job. May sound like a dream job to some, but some mornings you really can't face cider before breakfast, even with ice cubes.
]]>Ah, French advertising always has a certain je ne sais quoi. Actually, je sais exactement... As an impressionable teenager in France on an exchange trip I remember seeing the "Je donnerai ma chemise pour une biere" TV ad while having dinner with my host family. The ad features a nubile lady who does exactly what she says for a beer. None of the French audience batted an eyelid. But I nearly choked on mes haricots verts, not being used to seeing norks on TV at all in the 1980s, let alone in an advert at 8 pm.
]]>"...nothing emphasises the importance of the contribution made by our front line colleagues better than the television advert featuring Howard Brown."
Erm, right... so apparently one of the perks of working as a minion for Lord Stevens is that you might end up singing in an advert? The latest ad features several staff posing as an R&B outfit (Big Brothaz?), but it is a pretty laughable concept, to me at least. I'm sorry, but if you were "street" you'd be peddling drugs and pimping hos, rather than advising people about which mortgages to buy.
Still, the ads have won a bunch of industry awards. And the Chartered Institute of Marketing has published a highly entertaining and self-congratulatory case study that you can read here. My oversized brain is particularly baffled by the meaningless graphic (the ordinate axis is not labelled) accompanied by a provocative claim that the campaign "converted at more than 100% efficiency to the target markets of 16-34 ABC1s". How can anything be more than 100% efficient? Have Halifax's advertisers somehow found a solution to the global energy crisis?
Incidentally, Judge Jon is (just) in the 16-34 ABC1 demographic. And I am not converted: I think the ads project a "chav" brand image. Let's face it, the ad campaign is "X-factor" / "Pop idol" / "Stars in their eyes" for Halifax staff and those are chav programmes. So let's keep the karaoke restricted to whatever wine bar Halifax staff let their hair down in on a Friday evening, shall we? And if Lord Stevens wants to motivate his front line staff, perhaps a share in the bonuses he enjoys might be equally effective and less annoying for the rest of us.
]]>First, there is the ASA (Advertising Standards Agency) ruling that mentioning "ass" once in an advert is fine, but saying it more than once is a shocking sexual reference. WTF I hear you ask? The Renault Megane advert that features Groove Armada's "I see you baby (shakin' that ass)" has two versions. In one the soundtrack only mentions "ass" once, while the other features it several times.
The ASA have ruled that the version with only one "ass" can be shown before the 1930h watershed when kids might be watching. The other version may not. Apparently concern was raised that kids might start singing the song in playgrounds. I would suggest that the esteemed gentlemen of the ASA might like to come round to my gaff any afternoon of the week. The language that they would hear kids using outside would doubtless burn their delicate ears. They are correct, however, that kids are not generally watching TV after 1930h. Round here they are getting smashed on alcopops and TWOCing cars by that time.
On a different note, the new ad for Kellogg's Crunchy Nut Cornflakes features a man riding a wolfhound to get home from work early for a bowl of the snack (I would call it breakfast, but they are clearly trying to convince us to eat it at other times). Perhaps bizarrely, the ad has a subtitle saying "Don't try this with your dog at home" when the man is astride the (presumably CGI) hound. I would say "as if!", but perhaps one should never underestimate the stupidity of the proletariat or their capacity for litigation.
]]>As part of a marketing strategy, "Barry" joined the blogosphere, apparently sharing his musings like the rest of us. And in an attempt to "go viral", "Barry" started posting comments on other people's blogs. Including supposedly heartfelt advice to someone about their dilemma over an estranged parent. But "Barry" is a marketing vehicle. Imagine if "Barry" had signed a book of condolences and you should get the point. After being rumbled, those responsible apologised and "Barry" ne blog plus.
But still out there, doing the rounds, is a "hardcore techno" remix of the Cillit Bang advert that is suspiciously lacking in irony (I'm not going to provide the oxygen of publicity by linking to it). And there are Barry Scott t-shirts, "an exclusive range of products celebrating the cult phenomenon of Barry Scott" (there's the c-word again) that similarly manage to convey the advertising message intact.
I suppose conspiracy-theorists may be wondering whether Judge Jon is the invention of an ad agency designed to relaunch Barry on a viral flightpath. To set your minds at rest, I have googled "I f*cking hate Barry Scott" and been amazed not to find any hits. Ditto for "Barry Scott is a c*nt". Fortunately this post should patch those gaping holes in cyberspace and restore cosmic balance.
]]>I'm mildly amused so far by their new "Fuel of Britain, isn't it" campaign, which features a Welsh pot noodle mine. It's a less naughty direction for Pot Noodle, replacing the "Have you got the Pot Noodle horn?" campaign that prompted 572 complaints to the ASA (not upheld). Before that there was the tagline "The slag of all snacks", which was withdrawn. And who could forget the song in the Pot Noodle "holiday" advert:
"English girl so pale and so lovely
On holiday with your proud man
But secretly he is bored with you
He wants it dirty, filthy and more rude etc etc"
Anyway, the "Fuel of Britain" campaign has a budget of 10 million quid! That may seem like a lot of Pot Noodle, but we spend £95 million on the snack each year. The new ads, however, are aiming beyond the core market of 18-24 year-old males who can't cook for sh*t to convince the rest of us that Pot Noodle is now marvellously nutritious stuff. Quite a challenge, methinks, but good luck to the noodle-peddlars.
]]>First up there's Supernanny, Jo Frost. I like her show, as it gives parents sensible advice on how to keep brats from running their lives. Sure, kids are very important members of the family, but they need to realise they are part of that team. Jo Frost doesn't actually qualify as bossy--she is strict but fair. But I'll bet there is a male Jo Frost fanclub out there who admires her for qualities other than her sound parenting advice.
Then there is Victoria Stilwell in "It's me or the dog". The show has lots of useful tips for maintaining pack order in a household. And not only does Ms Stilwell bring the errant mutts to heel, but often their hapless owners as well. With her penchant for black leather and spiked heels (just look at this promotional photo), she does seem to enjoy giving the impression that she may also be somewhat strict in the bedroom.
We'll pass over House Doctor (bossy American), "You are what you eat" (lady scarily obsessed with examining poo) and Yolande Beckles, self-styled "educational motivator" (=supernanny) for difficult teenagers, who fails to qualify as bossy, strict or effective. Let's end today's diatribe with Sarah Beeny's Streets Ahead, in which residents are made to transform the appearance of their houses to standardise the look of the street, "for the good of the community".
Although she does not wear kinky boots or give the impression of having a wardrobe full of whips, Ms Beeny is the scariest of them all--she is the Albert Speer of suburbia. No, you cannot paint your house any colour you like. It must be one of the colours approved for the neighbourhood. And when the work transforming the street is done, you get the impression that the residents are expected to hold a torchlit rally. Now call me asocial, but I don't want my home to look like everyone else's. It is my castle. If I could, I would equip it with moat, drawbridge and vats of boiling oil to repel unwanted visitors trying to convince me to switch electricity suppliers.
]]>What next? Capt Janeway advertising sanitary products? "When you're battling the Borg, the last thing you want to worry about is your period..."
]]>How about the new Ford Focus ST advert, built on the premise of "What did you want to be when you grew up?" (click here to see it). Nicely done with an economy of slogans, absence of jingles.
There seems to be something of a debate in car advertising over whether we want cars that recapture the dreams of our youth a la Focus ST, or something that makes us feel grown up. Peugeot are in the other camp with their "Playtime is over" ad for the 407 SW, the idea being that unlike the other vehicles on the road, the 407 is not a toy. Maybe I'm in the wrong demographic, but when I drive my car I want to feel like I'm taking part in the Italian Job, not operating a photocopier. Renault recognised this with their Modus ad that had the strapline "Grow up--what for?". And there's the Vauxhall Corsa ad where the cars are playing hide-and-seek.
While we're doing Renaults, their latest ad for the Megane can't seem get past the fact that it has an odd-looking rear-end, so they're still trying to make a feature of it. Reminds me of the movie where the inmates of an asylum form an "honest" advertising agency that produces the strapline "Volvos: they're boxy, but safe"...
]]>It uses 14 shots in 30 seconds, has 7 lines of dialogue and only mentions the brand once. As Sam Delaney at the Guardian put it:
What's astonishing about it? The fact that 80% of what's being said is communicated not by moronic jingles, insulting slogans or Jamie Oliver's Argyle sweater, but instead by smart writing and understated acting.
Click here for the rest of Sam's review.
]]>Apparently "bigsmall" is a new word we should add to our dictionaries to describe the oxymoronic qualities of the Yaris. But not even Clement Freud's voiceover can disguise that this is a re-working of Nissan's "Do you speak Micra?" campaign from 2003, which described that car as "modtro" (modern, yet retro) and... wait for it... "smig" (small+big, do you see?).
Although the Nissan ad may have been beautifully shot (it was directed by David Lynch--click here to watch it), the underlying idea was crap (or "w*nksh*t", if you speak Micra). But the advert and its inspiring linguistic concept featured in a GCSE English exam at the time. And they say education has been dumbed-down.
Anyway, I'd love to know how much Toyota paid for the rummage through the archives that resulted in "bigsmall". One can imagine a generic (and therefore non-libellous) scenario in which a young ad exec is living it large, out on the lash in London--oh, crap, I still haven't produced that campaign for tomorrow's client meeting--hey, what about that ad from my GCSE English exam? I am sure, of course, that did not happen here, but rather the campaign was the result of lengthy dialogue about brand values, extensive research of target demographics and, er, creative genius.
Judgement:
"bigsmall": sentenced to the Hell of the Black Pool and Terrible Bee Torture;
"Do you speak Micra?": bound over to my colleague Yen-Lo-Wang in the Sixteen Departments of Heart Gouging.
]]>Why do I like it? It's that economical / effective story-telling thing. From the saccharin leer of the groom at his intended, before he glances back at the smug blonde in the congregation, we know that he's shagging her (the blonde, that is) and that relationship is set to continue after the imminent nuptuals. A whole soap-opera plot conveyed without words in five seconds. The sacrificial bride's intuition has been telling her that something is not quite right, but it takes the beeping of the Fiesta's horn, arriving outside the chuch Graduate-style, to spur her to escape her fate.
Ok, it faintly echoes the climactic wedding of Renault's "Papa--Nicole" campaign, which was watched by 20 million people. And does it tell us anything about the car? Nope, but no doubt it reinforces the brand values of independence, yada yada. Has it actually worked, i.e. have young women been deserting altars in favour of buying Fiestas? I've no idea, so if you have a story about how your car rescued you from marrying a philandering fiance, do tell.
Judgement: awarded a trip over the Silver Bridge for a stint in Southern Paradise.
]]>While some TV adverts are excellent examples of effective and economical narrative, there are also some that really, really wind me up. They are the equivalent of an unwelcome, obnoxious and pushy door-to-door salesman. As my long-suffering girlfriend will attest, they make me shout obscenities at the screen (I should point out that I wouldn't normally do that to a door-to-door salesperson). And it's not just me, as long-suffering herself also utters the c-word by reflex whenever Barry Scott appears with his squirty bottle of Cillit Bang.
So think of me as the televisual equivalent of St Peter; this blog is my Book of Judgement. Alternatively, I am Qin-Guang-Wang and my TV is the Magic Mirror of Retribution in which all are judged before being marshalled off to Western Paradise or one of the courts of Feng-Du (such as the Hell of Screaming Torture and Administrative Errors).
I'd be happy to consider candidates that anyone submits for judgement. In other words, you can have the job of Ox-face and Horse-head if we are sticking with the Chinese metaphor. A few ground rules: this commentary is about the adverts, not the products. A "good" advert here is not necessarily one that makes us remember the product, but one that shows some skill and innovation in its delivery. So it's not even about the effectiveness of the advertising--I am aware of Cillit Bang as a cleaning product, for example, but hate those adverts...
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