COM 443: Another Reflection #2

Someone working in the advertising industry told me recently of her frustration that the vast majority of creative, innovative, inventive advertisements are rejected for the stale and mundane stuff most of us are subjected to when we turn on the TV or radio. I find that both disturbing and very disappointing.

But at the same time, expected.

Advertising is, if nothing else, highly subjective and above all else a business. That's one of the first things we learn about it, in the various courses and classes we've taken. But that's exactly what makes it such a difficult thing for students like me to tackle many a time.

Take, for example, the "ASIA" campaign that AIA has been plastering all over signboards, bus stops and print media. I, for one, got it right away but thought it stupid anyway. Others took much longer to see it, though that might just mean that they are less attuned to the ridiculous. And then it wins an award. Wow.

On the other hand, there are ads that many around me like for whatever reason, and these are the ads that are then said to be ineffectual, poor, horrible. What are we to make of this confusing trend? When "research" leads you astray, are you supposed to start from scratch? And just hope?

Of course, there is much, much more to this that I - that many of us - haven't fully grasped yet and I realize that there is every possibility that there's something glaringly obvious that I'm overlooking to make things less frustrating. In the end, though, the more I try and immerse myself into the world of advertising, the more jaded and disillusioned I become.

The guest speaker from Ogilvy was entertaining enough, though what he had to say wasn't exactly enlightening as it was mood-lightening. Of course, I've had the lovely benefit of often speaking to someone currently working at Ogilvy, so that plays a part. I told that person as well, as I alluded to in my earlier entry, of my supposed interest in the field. And of how it has waned.

What now, then? Ultimately there is still work to be done, and conceivably it might galvanize me to rekindle that spark that once was there. Or not.

It's all subjective.

Kites

I've never, for the life of me, been able to keep a kite airborne for longer than the split second it takes for gravity to reintroduce it to the ground. It's yet another entry in my long list of failures, though today I realized that I can draw parallels to the damn thing.

People close to me may know about certain happenings and occurrences going on now, many of which aren't exactly satisfactory to me. These people (and you readers) also know that I rarely go into graphic detail about anything when I write here, so forget any scandalous statements of glorious gossip. I'll just say that I hate being strung around and along, and going from sky-high to having a close-up chat with the dirt from one second to the next. I don't want to be a damn toy.

The fact that Man Utd failed to win also compounds the complications that come with a cellphone that is intent on self-termination, while classes and school which should be fun and enjoyable seem colorless and dull, dreary and repetitive, just shit in general. Just end, already.

Then there's dealing with the incessant pestering and pandering that certain lurking individuals revel in, while other irrational behavior that I conduct and observe remain just that, irrational.

Urgh.

COM 443: A Reflection #1

Professor Bob Armstrong, currently lecturing at SIM-UB, has requested that each of his students detail their experiences in his classes in an online fashion via a simple blog, and while some other have decided to set up entirely new ones for this purpose, the combination of me being too lazy and feeling quite satisfied with this current one led to me just sending him this here link.

Lengthy random introductory sentence aside, let's take a look at what we have.

I've made no secret of the fact that, for a long time, I've looked at the advertising industry with a combination of awe and desire. Ever since I learnt that a relative of mine had something to do with Jessica Alba being in a Singaporean commercial, that feeling has only escalated. This semester, though the advertising module that so many of us gleefully signed up for has been somewhat of a reality check.

Most of us are familiar with the instructor, jolly old Professor Armstrong, prone to the odd and erratic bout of singing and appreciative of a good Hollywood shootout. His somewhat ruthless and hectic schedule isn't a surprise to many of us either, though even the most experienced of us silly students would be hard-pressed to honestly say that they were well and truly prepared for this experience.

I'm not saying it's the most hellish course we've ever had to misfortune of sitting through (especially not after The Drooler and others...), but it's no walk in the park either. The fact that many of us have found ourselves in school early and/or late everyday finishing up projects and assignments, stressing over everything from HTML to tie colors, timing speeches to the second and cramming for 7.25% of the overall grade just adds to the general feeling of what exactly one would be up against in the industry.

Of course, I'm no expert at that, and for all I know our dear Professor could just be a sadistic and malicious prankster, aiming to give us early coronaries. But then my chats with my mystery friend from Ogilvy seems to confirm his assessment of the harsh and hard world of advertising.

One of the positives I can take away from the course so far, though, is the fact that the luck of the draw has been good for me. With the majority of the grade resting on a group performance, graded and assessed throughout the semester, the good Professor saw it fit to randomly group the class into teams of six to seven individuals. While it's fair and accurate to say that I'm not in my preferred combination and permutation of class-mates right now, I'm actually very pleased with the experience thus far. Good blend of talents and personalities, and it's given me the chance to grow closer to some people I wasn't as close to prior to the challenge.

Doesn't hurt, of course, that two of the top three from the recent SIM-UB Dinner & Dance Best Dressed competition are in there with me!

But that's it for now, got the aforementioned exam to cram for, when I get around to it.

Flavor of the Week

Lot has happened in the past seven days.

A week ago, Hari Raya came and went without incident, though the night of the first day was interesting, to say the least. The next few days saw hectic happenings in school and long nights outside. Dark rings and flu ensued, and I woke up at 2pm today, a feat only accomplished by a phone call that prevented me from sleeping through my Sunday.

But it's been a week to remember, for good and for bad, though really my only regret is how I didn't end it as well as I should have.

Question myself alot recently, wondering why I made some decisions, why some things happened, continue to happen. If others will or should.

Oh well.

Eventful

Past week or so has been interesting, to say the least. Alot of good and bad and everything in between, with surprising developments and frustrating obstructions. Decisions to make, things to turn away from, matters to settle too in the days to come. And I find myself spectacularly unmotivated.

I haven't watched Moon, probably won't have the time or company to. Hari Raya rounds are repetitively dull and inane. Certain people are getting increasingly difficult to tolerate. It's the little things that irritate me, and not a little.

Some people envy my position, some people don't know about it. I just want to sleep.

Spent a long time today talking to someone I've always thought of as a friend but who I never really bothered to really talk to prior to today, and I don't know why. Not why I talked to this person, but why I didn't before. Makes one think of what's been missed.

But also what was discussed, revealed, learnt, shared. Of how old, old, friends drift away and how everything seems infantile sometimes when you realize you're clutching at something you're not even sure is all there.

Too many things to do, too little drive to do it.

Something More

Sometimes it's the little things, the forgotten things, the things that have always been there but have never been paid attention to that suddenly jump out at you, painted in moonlight and keeping you up.

It's new, interesting, fun.

Play it by ear.

Clubbed to Death

Naz doesn't club. Naught, nein, nary.

Nope.

Today though, I said that I'd step into the club if everyone (and there were a shitload of people) did the same, and I didn't have to pay. Of course, as fate would have it, someone knew someone and I got that free pass that saw me stumble into a mostly-empty place which might as well have been an alien planet to me.

I was with friends, though, who had made a Pact not to indulge in any alcoholic behavior (well, most of them, at least), and who were the types who would keep promises made (again, most of them, at least).

We were joined by some newer friends, mostly excited, excitable younglings who seemed eager to raise the toxicity of their bloodstream. Eventually, one of them went past the point of no return and got herself quite sloshed. In record time, too.

A long time ago, I wrote something about girls, clubs, drinking, and how the three don't make for a very good combination, all things considered. That upset some people enough for me to take it down, not an everyday event, but maybe I'll revive it soon.

Probably the thing that annoys me the most, irritates me to no end, physically disgusts me is the guy that lurks around these excited girls waiting for one of them to get so hammered she is inebriated enough to not realize exactly who is around her at all times, but still in possession of the required mental capacity to stand and continue dancing.

This is when the afore-mentioned lurker swoops in for the save, chivalrously extending his trembling hands to the little girl's body whenever she looks like she is about to lose her footing. Or even when she isn't.

Sure, this happens all the time, you cry. Clubs are like that. Takes two hands to clap.

Doesn't change the fact that I have lost all respect for some people now, and those of you who have been paying attention know what that entails.

An Epiphany

Taking the train today, I was struck by a startling realization of what is perhaps the single most beneficial thing that driving offers over taking advantage of the public transport services in Singapore. No, it isn't avoiding the rush and crush of the busy crowd during peak periods. No, it isn't having to continually top up that little card as fares rise every few months. It isn't even being able to do without rude strangers and smelly mystery-men.

Instead, what I found, much to my chagrin, was that while on the train or bus, one will invariably stumble upon a girl/woman/thing with a false sense of hotness.

I'm not even talking about the standard bimbotic, prototypical walking make-up dispensers that parade themselves around random corridors like Singapore's Next (only?) Top Model. I'm referring to the females (and that's a stretch) who seem to consider themselves sex bombs, when they look more like they've been hit by a bomb.

Today was a prime example.

Strolling into the insanely empty train cabin, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye that must have blinded folks halfway to Malaysia. A large blob of colour, in skin tight jeans that did everything to highlight the rotundness of their owner's rear, standing with an expression that would have put royalty to shame. And this is from me, who has been told multiple times that I walk with a swagger.

If whales wore denim and excessive mascara, I would have thought one had beached in Kembangan, but oh no, the worst was still to come.

Enduring the sight all the way to where I eventually alighted, I was in for a shock. As if it wasn't bad enough trying to stare fixedly at a point that left her/it out of my peripheral vision (i.e. the floor), when I staggered out of those whooshing sliding doors that irritate me so, I was horrified to find that she was somehow in front of me and walking in the same direction!

Look down, look down, I told myself, and the advice seemed sensible enough, until I met with the contraption that left me wanting to gouge my eyes out with a belt buckle.

Escalator.

Turns out, Little Miss Whale was wearing a neon pink THONG.

How ludicrously and shockingly disgusting, yet expected, from someone whose folds could hide their spare change and whose foundation could probably shield them from nuclear fallout. As I contemplated what would happen if she fell backwards onto me (I have never done up a will, you see), the escalator reached its summit and the little pink strap was blissfully hidden from view again.

Come to think of it right now, I wonder how the thong was even visible. Wouldn't it have sunk into one of the... creases?

I went on with my day, which included watching District 9 (which is awesome) and sitting around with friends who played some acoustic music (also awesome), and all was forgotten.

Until I was on the ride home and saw a Chinese Mat.

Oh my.

Falling

Tired, that's what's been running through my mind the past 48 hours or so, since Tuesday. A disgustingly long session of Winning Eleven was fun, but wasn't ideal in preparing for an overnight stint bordered by emotional farewells.

Sure, there were tears. Sure, it was sad. No real unexpected drama though, even if some had expected or encouraged it.

Couple of weeks to school, another few months which will be interesting, to say the least, with so many important people gone.

Uplifting!

I never liked any of the Ice Age or Shrek movies after the first one. I thought Finding Nemo was distinctly average, and that the slew of other modern animated films (other than Toy Story and Monsters Inc) were passable, at best.

I just got back from Up, however, and wow.

Someone I watched it with said she cried within the first ten minutes, and while I didn't need a Kleenex, I have to agree that there are portions of the film which are both charming and heartwrenching at the same time. It isn't so much an emotional roller-coaster as it is a gentle stroll around the range of feelings what an amazing film ought to evoke.

The comedy is often top-notch too, far funnier than the majority of traditional films released in recent memory. The characters are very Pixarish, and all of them grow on you quickly and you begin to love them after their first few scenes.

Story-wise, it's a far-fetched, fantastic tale of a man's quest to keep a promise made to a loved one, and how he overcomes the various random obstacles placed before him. The plot flows smoothly, allowing each character to be introduced and developed in every way.

The soundtrack lends a great deal to the generally light-hearted feel of the movie, and it reminds me, strikingly, of the first two Terminator movies and how there really is only one actual "song", and the key and tempo of it greatly alters its mood and effect, to a great extent. The music here does a fantastic job in leading the audience down that path from delight to despair to desperation to depression to delirium. Amazing stuff.

Of course, the cynic in me questions some of the logic in the film, like how certain devices could ever function and the sheer physics of a helium-powered building making its way across continents. I'll suspend such critique, however, not because it's "just a cartoon", but because it's just so bloody good.

I caught Up in all its 3D glory, and I have to say, though, that's really the only negative thing I have to take away from the movie. The effect of it being in 3D wasn't really fantastic, and some people around me took off the cumbersome goggles (and goggles are a prominent part of the movie, on and off screen) and simply watched it as it is. Sure, the first time you see the little kid plodding across the street, you are wowed by how it all looks, but then the rest of the movie doesn't seem to make use of the effect too greatly.

All in all, I highly recommend Up to anyone for any occasion. Taking someone out on a first date, another date, a random movie outing with friends or family, alone or in a crowd, I can almost guarantee you'll enjoy it.

Two tips, though. Tissues if you feel you might need it, and pass on the 3D option if you're unsure.

Public Relationships

I've always liked the name Jenny. Really, truly. But the past six weeks or so has befouled the name to such an extent that it will take a really dramatic shift for me to look at the name again with any positivity.

As some may reember, I tend to critique certain educators that I have been unfortunate enough to suffer through rather harshly. There was the inspiration behind Comic Relief, the one who was petitioned against, a cross-eyed Enron lawyer, the drooling mother of Bowser and a few others. Add Jenny to the list.

Sure, she's all smiles and yes, I understand that English may not be her native tongue but -

Wait. Wait just one minute.

Is that fricking Mandarin I see on my frickin slides that I am studying for my exam in little over twelve hours? I was unaware that a course in Public Relations, hosted by an American University in Singapore, would have course material in a language that the students hardly understand! This is ridiculous.

It's bad enough that she takes ages to barrel her way through a single chapter - hindered, no doubt, by her insistence on breaking into Chinese narratives as and when she feels like it - and that her sense of logic is questionable, at best when dealing with matters of her own design, but now I am staring at "notes" which I can't understand even if I wanted to?

Here's the typical exerpt from one of her classes:

"So yesh, de Pee-Are orgazashens speng millings of doh lahs oh nowah public meedya and evry day we see and a here messages becausah you canna pay for Pee Are only you can pray for Pee Are ah ha ha ha. Wo ching chiau Hu way ren du Taiwan de Hong Kong pu may lau ren ta gu xin Democratic Model han shong lay."

And she moves on. I usually step out after the first line in a dialect I don't understand.

How the fuck does Democratic model fit in anywhere?

I've had to deal with this for over a month now, and there really has been little to raise my spirits during this period, though I do admit that the course has brought me closer to a few people I barely spoke to before.

One of the few things that had got me even a little smiley was someone Ive been talking to alot lately, but not recently. Yeah. Kinda weird to be in this situation, realy, and to be honest I have no idea what's going on. A lost, noobish, amateur.

Realised how long it's been since I had a proper phone conversation that didn't end in frustration, though it looks like that end is on the cards again. Ah well, I guess I was right. Everyone got excited over nothing.

Now, I just need to learn Mandarin overnight.

Controlled Alternative Delete

It's been a long while since I put away the things, small and large that used to remind me of times gone by. But lately I've come to realise that everytime I look around me, I still notice that they're not there, and it makes no difference whatsoever. And today I tossed away one of the first and oldest of the things, though admittedly it is in a state befitting a test sample in some biochemical weapon facility.

Looking through my battered laptop, I realised today that I still have a (digital) ton of such things, so I went about deleting them. Was alot harder than I expected, to be honest. Ever watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? Probably my second favorite Jim Carrey movie ever (Truman Show is #1). It was like that, midway through I started to doubt myself, if I really wanted them gone. But by then I had gone too far and it was all I could do to just finish up.

I did find a few things which brought a small smile to me and at least one other though.

I need to study, but I'm not. Not nearly.

Backup Friends and More

I had a really nice and long conversation with someone I've never talked to for that long today. Actually not the first time in recent memory that's happened, and for that I'm quite thankful.

She did, however, recount to me the story of how one of her friends told her off for treating her like a "backup", and that coupled with an earlier question and joking accusation got me thinking.

In a few weeks, many people close and dear to me will be jetting off, and there's a chance I won't see some of them, at elast, for maybe six months. Yes, yes, Skype and the like exist, but you all know it's different. I know it's different. Will everything be different?

The person asked me how and why I (relatively) recently became to chummy with certain people who've been around alot longer than we've been buddies, and I of course gave the obvious answer, but then nothing is really ever that obvious and simple, is it?

I don't quite know.

Then there's the matter of the little thing that's got everyone around me excited, though I bet they're overreacting, and that the little plans and stuff won't come to fruition.

Pessimistic? Maybe. I try to think it's being realistic. And not idealistic. I have no idea what I'm doing most the time. Too little, too much?

Long ride home today, but had good company for the first part, where I learnt what a small world we live in.

Lady & The Tramp

I realise I've never watched the entire show, actually. Maybe that will change soon? Maybe. Exams, meh.

Kittens

Sick and tired, and hearing conflicting advice from people I do consider friends. I have kittens now though, yay. Haven't studied for my exam, whoop-dee-doo!

Comic Relief #253 - 254

Introducing the new minah, Nina...

Comic Relief #246-252

And introducing Jilyn, the racist flower-girl!

And Jilyn's side-kick, Fel!

Early Morning

Some folk who frequent this space have a tendency to look too deeply into things. When you look hard enough and want to find something, you'll find it anywhere. This is just something I wrote on a whim, not sure if it means anything at all. Don't overanalyse. Probably too emo for my taste, but it sort of wrote itself.

Do you think it's fair that everything seems to be uneven?
To let me live this way seems so cruel sometimes.
Don't you think I care about things enough to want to know more?
Enough to want to say everything I want to say.

Do you think it's only a foolish dream?
The laughter and the smiles that everyone has seems so different.
Don't you think it's lonely watching and listening?
Counting down the miles and listening to the radio.

Do you think it'll ever happen like others have said?
Be the way I see and the way I've always seen.
Don't you think it's never going to happen, like you said?
The way it needs to be seems like the way it should be.

Do you think that dreaming means anything?
Is all that I can do to keep myself from cracking everyday.
Don't you think that trying is even worth the effort?
Is what I want from you more than what should be?

Don't you think that sunsets like the one while you slept
Are the highlights of the sky but pale beside you.
Do you think that I've yet thought of how it could work?
Learnt to say goodbye and dreaded when I have to.

Do you think that I'm naught but a stupid prankster?
But another worn-out joke and nothing else?
Don't you think that I aught to be more honest?
To mend the thing that's broke the only way I know how.

Do you think that roses can be brought onto airplanes?
Hide a story in their scent because they remind me of so much
Don't you think we're closest and closer than anyone else?
When you finally relent and let me in.

Do you think it's easy for me being this way?
To watch you when you frown and mope and sulk.
Don't you think it hurts me just to try and pretend?
That I can't help when you're down and you don't seem to care.

Do you think and ponder about me at all?
If the chance is there to take would you?
Don't you think and wonder if things were different?
If a better choice it'd make and if the risk is worth it?

Comic Relief

Well, Blogger is being a bitch again, so I think I will limit any future additions to Comic Relief to Facebook. You guys can either add me and take a look at the albums or simply become a fan of the page titled "Comic Relief - Everyone's Favourite True-Story Stick Figures".

...at least until this little problem clears up.

You Just Got Owened

So everyone is like OMGWTFBBQ at Manchester United signing Liverpool legend Michael Owen. The move has been met with general disdain in every corner, both from the die-hard United faithful and the angered Kop fans. Neutrals are either being neutral about it or pessimistically cynical, as people tend to be towards Man Utd.

At first glance, signing Antonio Valencia and Michael Owen to replace the loss of Cristiano Ronaldo and Carlos Tevez seems feeble, at best. It's like, what, taking off a 30-million pound international striker and thrusting a raw 17 year old rookie when your side is down in a big game. Oh right...

Even with Owen and Valencia in the books at Old Trafford, will it really hamper the team? Last season, Ronaldo wasn't nearly as amazingly talismanic as he was in the season before. Save the game against Arsenal in the Champions' League, one might argue that United might have performed just as well without him, or even a lesser (and perhaps more traditional) winger. In the striking department, people need to realise that Dimitar Berbatov is NOT a targetman like Adebayor or Drogba. At Spurs, he played best when he played BEHIND a true striker. The hole. With Ronaldo's departure, Rooney has voiced his hope that he be alloted a more traditional striking position. With Rooney upfront and Berbatov supporting him, his clever play linking the creative and industrious Man Utd midfield to Rooney's work rate and predatory instincts, you could see how it would work much better than it did last term, with Rooney wide left and Berbatov isolated.

Alternatively, you could look at Michael Owen and call him the better version of Defoe or Robbie Keane at Spurs (pre and post Anfield).

"Oh, but Owen will get injured every week!"

Well, that's what people said about Ryan Giggs when he first started and blew people away. Unlike Berger, Smicer, Redknapp and a few others, Giggs has proven that with a combination of intelligent use by the manager, a top-notch medical team and personal professionalism, injuries did not become a problem for him in his later years at United. Hargreaves aside, of course.

I also question the 'Pool fans who seem to be outraged by the "traitor" Michael Owen. Didn't you guys sign Paul Ince, and make moves for Gabriel Henize, and supposedly Carlos Tevez? You're also telling me you wouldn't want Vidic, Ferdinand, Rooney or even Macheda?

Macheda might be someone concerned about Owen's arrival though. Him and Welbeck had a genuinely impressive season last time round, as did the likes of the Da Silva twins, Gibson, Evans, Foster and the now-on-loan Rodrigo Possebon. Hopefully he won't suffer with less playing time.

Another criticism of this signing is that Man Utd have not gone out and bought a big-name, top-quality star striker. Firstly, let's look at Owen. He's ranked number 4 in the all-time scoring records for England, and is in fact the only player in the top ten still playing today. He's just ten shy of becoming the all-time top-scorer. Alternatives?

Zlatan Ibrahimovic, the lanky and beaky Swede, is a class act but he's proven time and time again that he chokes and simply does not perform in the big stage. At a club like Man Utd, such is unacceptable. And at 90 million, it's a tad overpriced anyway. David Villa wants to stay in Spain, so he's probably off to join the Galacticos or the Catalans if Eto'o goes to Manchester. City. Ruud van Nistelrooy? Andrei Shevchenko? Adebayor? Not really. Luis Fabiano falls in the Diego Forlan cetagory for me. Alexandre Pato is a personal favorite, but Milan are unlikely to let go of him after also already losing Kaka, Beckham, Maldini and the aforementioned Ukranian double flop.

Being able to sign Sergio Aguero, the son-in-law of God, or orchestrating the return of one Giuseppe Rossi would be something to cheer for indeed. Or even landing the hugely impressive Marcus Berg, who lit up the recent U21 Tournament. Ribery seems a lost cause anyway.

As a Manchester United fan, I do look at Owen's signing with skepticism, though I implore everyone else to stop with the negativity until it is warranted. Remember Henrik Larsson and Teddy Sheringham. Who knows, maybe Michael Owen can do something at United he was never able to at Anfield - win the league, something that escapes his best buddy Steven Gerrard to this day.