May 15, 2005
read these words
just when i thought today's game between the Royals and Devil Rays couldn't get any more lame than Kansas City having Tony Graffanino, Emil Brown and Matt Diaz hitting in the 3-4-5 slots, along comes an ad hyping the Devil Rays that ends with the tagline "Devil Rays baseball...Watch It Happen." literally not even an exclamation point on the end. my god, they could just as easily have said "paint drying....watch it happen" and achieved the same result in terms of raising excitement levels on Florida's Gulf Coast. just by sitting there in the stands or, more likely, on your couch, you're already watching it happen. what kind if call to action incites you to do something you're already doing? they couldn't even give us a generic "Take It In At the Trop" or a "These Kids Are Really Trying Hard" or a "Come Sit In Our Office Chairs!"? they might as well add "And don't forget to breathe!" on the end there.
now, if you'll pardon me, i've got to go watch some laundry happen.
Posted by jamie at May 15, 2005 03:56 PM
wow, that really is bad. i thought "show up at shea" was bad, but at least that is a call to action. and i think there might have been an exclamation point in that ad campaign.
Given that much of Pinellas County is either retired, on disability, or a scientologist they probably have to use quiet slogans for fear of lawsuits.
It's a trend. The Orioles' campaign is pretty bad this year too - different versions of "O The __" in print and TV ads. "O The Power," "O The Magic," etc. Lame.
when have the orioles ever had a good ad campaign? are you still lamenting that they haven't returned to the "birdland" campaign? i mean, we all know that edward bennett williams was a huge charlie parker fan but i'm not sure if earl weaver was in on it.
"Why Not" was the perfect delayed response to the '89 season. I'm always hoping they'll go back to "Orioles Magic"
How interesting, that the very classist idiots that ruin diverse and culturally compelling neighborhoods would refer to Green Wood Heights, (note the original victorian name for the highest point in Brooklyn and learn your neighborhood's name fool), appears to you as some no man's land- I am sure you and your provincial wife rejoice everytime another Starbuck's opens. More pathetically myopic is your description of the brilliant, sagacious and cuttingly funny waitress at Bar BQ. With your whitebread lack of insight, you probably thought she should have been more survile and "terribly sorry" to serve your sneering bitter and unenlightened consumer yuppie selves. Knowing the well known poet, editor, curator, & artist, who has worked for everyone from Alan Lomax to Michael Moore- she was probably so disgusted by your classist demeanor and rudeness, she ignored you and waited for you to leave. She made a mistake on your check? oh boo hoo- go get a life you yuppie consumer scum. I challenge you to try calling her ditzy to her face, she will tear you to pieces with a smile and scathing analysis. I dare you to go back to Bar BQ and reveal yourself, but let us all know at Lungfull Magazine headquarters so we can watch you wither publically.
best comment ever. maybe i'll see you at this week's neighborhood barbeque.
yet i can't resist responding: actually, if you want to get technical, it's Green-Wood Heights, as that is the name of the cemetery from which the neighborhood gets its appellation. right off the bat you're already proving yourself an idiot who has no idea what battles to fight. i mean, bringing up Starbucks? not only is that a horrible Adbusters-style cliche, it just proves that you don't know me at all. without going off on a tangent, i'll just say that the work i do every day has a bigger impact on making the world a better, more sustainable place than a lifetime of your magazine ever will.
anyway, i referred to the area as a no man's land because it appears that way to others, as most people simply scratch their heads (figuratively) when they hear the name, not knowing where it is. personally, i like the neighborhood the way it is and am concerned about some of the development going on there, in that i'm a strong proponent of contextual development and not obstructing the view from Battle Hill. also, i don't know what to call your opening salvo, as it fails to meet the requirements of a complete sentence (though i see from your website that you're big into exposing the creative process, so let me know if you'd like me to post an edited version). sorry, i guess that's classist.
as for your friend (i'm assuming) the waitress, my remarks were critical yes, and were insensitive to the fact that she, or someone she knows might have read them. but they were based on our experience, and i'm entitled to my opinion of the quality if the service. you were not there and have no idea whether our demeanor was sneering or classist or rude. i can assure you they were not. and yet i'm consumer scum because there was an error on our check or because i wasn't offered another beverage? fuck you. scum wouldn't have pointed out the error and simply pocketed the extra $10. and my wife and i haven't had the *privilege* of working with such luminaries as Allan Lomax (can you be non-classist and a name dropper at the same time?), but we have both waited tables and we know when someone is doing it well. we were ignored becaue she was chatting with people at the bar.
i like "whitebread lack of insight" though - i think i'll have to borrow that phrase. it's the perfect description of what goes on in this space, and i'm happy to say that you amply furthered the cause with your diatribe. i'll spend $11 on your magazine (i bet you get a lot of poor people reading at that price) the next time i'm out of bags to pick up my dog's shit.
and just so it's out there: i deleted 2 other comments made by Brendan on different entries because they were exactly the same as this one.
When recording prisoners at Parchman Farm back in the day, I've got to say that I was treated to stupendous barbeque at a corner shack down the way. And the service was superb - polite staff and prompt attention. There isn't anything I craved more while recording those prisoners all day in the hot sun to kick back and relax with some sweet ice tea. Keep up the good work Brendan. You seem to be a real class act and I'm sure that you live your life to the ideals that you so much aspire to.
P.S. Michael Moore is a terrible tipper.
I wonder if Brendan and the person who left that spelling-challenged review of Porch on Citysearch are one and the same. "Sungria" is almost forgivable next to "survile" and "publically." I love this part: "I dare you to go back to Bar BQ and reveal yourself." That made me laugh out loud.
1) brendan schtupping poet/editor/curator/artist/waitress?
2) brendan stalking poet/editor/curator/artist/waitress?
3) poet/editor/curator/artist/waitress googling herself?
4) brendan googling poet/editor/curator/artist/waitress?
i need answers! i wish something like this would have come up when i googled "ice cream scooper bridge plaza baskin robbins circa 1993"
We should get a bunch of people to go to Bar BQ and have a Dead Poets Society "O captain, my captain"/Spartacus "I'm Spartacus" moment. Jamie can say to said waitress "I wrote that blog entry about your inattentiveness and poor math skills," then everyone else in turn can claim that no, he or she was the one who wrote it. We'll be sure to notify the editorship of Lungfull magazine, so they can attend and write a prose poem about it.
Perhaps Brendan is the bartender, quietly pining for said waitperson and thus failing to notice empty beer glass in Jamie's forlorn hand. As I type, he may well be wrapping a Smithsonian Folkways box set and the director's cut of "Canadian Bacon" in a print out of his flame comment with all names removed. How ironic that your tip for the second beer might have eased the financial burden of having to sell his dictionary to buy these love tokens.
re. your post about chinese menus
How interesting, that the very classist idiots that ruin diverse and culturally compelling neighborhoods would refer to bobo garden as bo bo garden. (note the original chinese name for smug artist and learn your local restaurant's name fool), appears to you as some sort of paper waster- I am sure you and your provincial wife rejoice everytime another #1 chinese restaurant opens. More pathetically myopic is your description of the brilliant, sagacious and cuttingly funny menu description at bobo garden. With your whitebread lack of insight, you probably thought it should have been less numerous and "terribly sorry" to serve your sneering bitter and unenlightened consumer yuppie selves. Knowing the well known poet, editor, curator, & artist delivery guy, who has worked for everyone from Confucius to General Mao- he is probably so disgusted by your classist demeanor and rudeness of your letter, he would never serve your yuppie whitebread asses ever again anyway. he delivers too many menus for you because of you and your damn briefcase? only yuppie scum have briefcases. i'm too busy reading my poetry at open mike night at the ultimate real bar barbeis to have a briefcase. oh boo hoo- go get a life you yuppie consumer scum. I challenge you to try printing your own menus. he will tear you to pieces with a smile and scathing analysis on a fortune cookie fortune. I dare you to order from bobo garden again and reveal yourself, but let us all know at Lungfull Magazine headquarters so we can watch you wither publically.
At which point in this do I get to pee myself laughing? Now?
Asking permission to piss is so bourgeois, and might I say, provincial. We here at Pantsfull magazine eschew the fake mores of whitebread society and relieve ourselves whenever we feel like it, often within the pages of our own magazine. We take our radical scatological manifesto from the great Alan Lomax, who was once seen giving both a golden shower and a hot lunch to Michael Moore at a Brooklyn barbeque joint while the waitress looked on adoringly (while curating a collection of her own poems I might add) and the bartender floated on oblivious. You on the other hand are not fit to wipe the waitress' ass and if you did you'd use $20 bills or silk or something. The revolution will not be televised, it will begin at a poorly attended poetry slam, so buckle up yuppie scum and prepare to be iambic pentametered to death!
I liked Modest Mouse before they were famous. Now I can't like them anymore. Viva Chiapas!