Target markets

Advertising is such a tricky business, which is why I find it so fascinating.  What I find particularly intriguing is when an advertiser seems to pitch a product to an audience that would not buy said product, but would be likely to influence buyers of the product.  Take kids' products (food, toys, etc.) for example:  advertisers know damn well that kids are not likely to be able to buy Burger King on their own, but they can convince their parents to buy it for them.  Prescription drugs are the same way:  patients can "ask their doctor about Ambien" even though they may not know how the drug will affect them or if it will help at all.

There's a new line of ads from Old Spice that play with this idea.  It's clearly a men's product, but the ads address the ladies:  you want a manly man, one who doesn't smell like floral body wash.  But are they really reaching out to the ladies ("Buy this for your man"), or are they subtly reaching out to the men ("Use this body wash and you'll be more attractive to your lady")?  Either way, I think it's hilarious.  Have a look. (Too wide to embed here, so click through please!)

Hat tip to Corwin for pointing this out. Thanks!

Overnight poetry blogging

Yes, the timestamp is correct.  It's almost 3 am and I'm wide awake.  I always get in this kind of state, where I'm exhausted during the day and wide awake at night.  So I thought I'd try the old standby of blogging myself to sleep.

At the end of my first year in Oxford, I went to a lecture by Michael Swan on language teaching.  He was very interesting and funny, and at the end he shared some of his poetry.  I Googled his stuff tonight and found quite a few of his poems that I like, and will share here.  Enjoy!

Your Poem

Your poem
is rather heavily made up.
It has thick eye shadow
and is plastered with lipstick.
Your poem
is wearing a cantilever bra
and a skirt
with a split
right up to the armpits.

My poem
is not made up at all.
It has flat heels
its hair is cut sensibly
its fingernails are short.
There is nothing flashy about my poem.
The clear light of sincerity
radiates from its eyes
(which are set
rather close together).

My poem
is somewhat contemptuous of your poem
but I have to admit
that yours is the one that gets the men.
(Mine once got asked
to a folk concert
but the guy
didn't turn up.)

We Tried to Tell You

In a shabby pub
down a back street
late one evening
I found my old maths master
sitting at a corner table
crying.

Not a pretty sight,
an old maths teacher
weeping into his beer.

‘Let me tell you this,’
he said.
‘It does not add up.
It does not fucking add up.

Two plus two
is a random number.

The angles of a triangle
make 37 degrees,
or 460, or minus 11,
or nothing you can determine.
Circles bulge.
Squares don’t have enough corners.
Parallel lines
all meet
or do not exist
or go where they bloody feel like.
The x axis
does not come on the same page
as the y axis.

There is no geometry
that fits our space.

You get on the number 4 bus for the station
and when you arrive
it is flight 968 to Istanbul
diverted to Manchester
and you have to walk back.

Time leaks out of the clock
and scampers off sideways.

One woman
is three women
or no woman,
not necessarily
in that order.

You bastards knew all that
didn’t you?
You knew it all along,’
he said,
knocking over his beer.

‘We tried to tell you,’
I said.
‘We tried to tell you.’

Lost in Translation

This poem has been translated
from a language
that is no longer spoken
in order to give it
a wider readership.
Inevitably
it has lost something
in the process
the original is written
in hendacasyllables
with a complex internal rhyme scheme
and is about something completely different.

Long time no see

I know, it's been forever and ever since I last posted here.  Blogging seems to be falling out of fashion, what with everyone on Twitter and Facebook these days, plus I don't really do anything exciting enough to blog about lately.  I got the black tie and the costume parties out of my system early on, so now it's just work work work.

I am aiming to submit this thing by August at the latest.  That would put me at November/December for a viva (defense), I think.  Fairly soon, I hope to get the "I *need* to get this done" mentality in my head, which allows me to spend late nights grinding out those chapters.

I've been in school for far too long.  I'm ready for a job.  I read once that the best way to find a house/apartment was to tell everyone that you're looking for a house/apartment, because you never know if someone's brother's co-worker's neighbor might have something available.  I'm hoping this technique also works for jobs, so I'll tell you all now:  I'm looking for a job.

My area of interest is higher ed, but not necessarily teaching (that is, I like teaching, but I am happy to do other things too).  I'm particularly interested in educational technology, but more generally I'm interested in any sort of higher ed jobs that allow me to work with lots of different people.  So far I've applied for jobs as an instructional designer/educational technologist, director of international studies, and honors program coordinator, just so you can get an idea of the kinds of positions I'm interested in.  My degrees are in Spanish and Communication/Advertising (I have Master's Degrees in both), I've taught at the college level, and I have work experience in educational technology.  I plan on staying in Connecticut for a while.

I'm telling you all these things in case you know someone who knows someone who is hiring, or if you can suggest any particularly good places to search.

Back to work now.  Happy weekend, everyone!

Feliz Navidad

We wish you a Merry Christmas

We wish you a Merry Christmas

We wish you a Merry Christmas

And a Happy New Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I probably won't have time to post on Christmas, and I'd never remember to post this after, so I will wish everyone a Happy Holidays right now.  Here's to a fabulous 2010!

I can't believe I had to do this.

Today I had to put a laminated sign on my door.  It reads:  "This is room 25.1, a student room.  If you are looking for your guest room, please go next door to staircase 24 for room 24.1."

Why did I do this?  Well, on four different occasions this term, college guests have tried to get into my room.  They've either practically followed me in as I was going in myself, or I could hear them sticking the key in the door late at night.  I don't even have to ask what they're doing any more:  I just stick my head out the door and say, "You're looking for the staircase next door."

I wonder why this has happened so often this year.  I lived in this room last year and it never happened.  Maybe it is because we have so many new porters this year?  Are they directing people to the wrong staircase?

Weird.