We won fishhead curry and a book

The company outing was yesterday (just) and we went bowling. There were prizes up for grabs and so each team tried its best. I bowled a spectacular game as usual, coming 2nd behind Adrian (not the contributor on this blog) with a whopping score of 68 in the first game. What? Not impressed? Ah well, bowling’s not my game. Skinny wrists and a bad back don’t help at all.

But anyway, the creative team won overall thanks largely to Adrian’s accuracy and Jason’s brutality on the lanes with Eileen holding her own and me sitting the 2nd game out cos my wrist was starting to swell. Long story.

So fishhead curry awaits on Monday and hopefully, just hopefully, a shopping spree at Basheer with the $100 we’re supposed to have won. That works out to about one book but it’s better than nothing.

This is a screenshot of my desktop at work. Other …

This is a screenshot of my desktop at work. Other than the ultra-cool Heineken Green Room wallpaper, the number of hugely boring jobs I have yet to do and the fact that I’m busy reading soccernet, you might also have noticed that, yes, Jolene is bz doing ass…

The Son Rises

[From the Economist]

Strange how the new Mr. Lee looks remarkably like the old one.

(Excerpts)

“He is the son of Singapore’ s founding father, Lee Kuan Yew, and shares his father’s measured, practical and technocratic approach to government. He also shares a somewhat condescending, didactic bent, and a tendency to chide and admonish rather than charm and encourage.”

While Mr. Goh reminds me of that friendly old principal you often find in primary schools, always willing to offer sagely advice with a smile, Mr. Lee Jr. resembles a young hotshot discipline master, ever-ready to thwack you across the knuckles for tapping your fingers on the table.

“He claims to want a more vigorous public debate, but promises to “demolish” any critic who undermines the government’s standing.”

And you wonder why Singaporeans don’t have an opinion. I don’t see how he can realistically expect any sort of vigorous public debate when some of the participants will constantly have the possibility of “demolishment” hanging over their heads. Yet another case of “Only Hear the Good Stuff” by muting the bad.

“As an example of how the government is prepared to open up, B.G. Lee (as he is often known, thanks to his spell as a brigadier-general) cites a recent relaxation of restrictions on busking and bungee jumping. He also points out that it will soon be easier to register a society, although the government stopped short of doing away with the registration process altogether.”

I suppose People Like Us and other similarly oriented groups shouldn’t get their hopes up just yet. But at least they get to be entertained by the sound of roadside music and the sight of screaming lunatics dangling from giant rubber bands.

Insanity, and not much else

A title like that was bound to happen.

And it really couldn’t have happened on a better day. You see, it has finally dawned upon me that the only use I have to the unit I’m in is paper-pushing and stapler-stapling. The funny thing is, what entails from such a job scope is long hours sitting down on an uncomfortable chair, which apparently has been made of diamond-polymer composites giving it the look of a plastic surface and a butt-numbing hardness.

Well, I can’t complain I guess, it’s better than outfield. Narrowly.

I’m desperately pushing for a 8-5 job, where I get to spend time at home with my family, and hopefully even friends. It a little low on my boss’ priority list, and I’m thinking it’s likely not to happen within the next few weeks. I regret not pushing for something earlier, because now arrows will be flying toward me by the bagsful as they try to max out my usefulness.

I think I better meet this deadline first, before they skewer me.

“I love deadlines. I love the loud whooshing they make as they fly by.”

-Douglas Adams

Pool is a frustrating game. Just when you think yo…

Pool is a frustrating game. Just when you think you’ve gotten the hang of it, it decides that it’s time to remind you who’s really got the balls. It also makes you constantly come up with stick/ball wisecracks like that.

The laws that govern my game are simple. One good shot is rarely followed by another and two good shots are never EVER, not even if the stars align and cows start producing honey mustard sauce, followed by a third.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not skilled in the game.

Among other amazing on table talents, I have gotten snookering myself down to a fine art. Not even a ball-in-hand can stop me from performing this fine move. This is in addition to such tricks as the “Romeo and Juliet”, where the cue ball, like a bereft teenager, decides to follow its lover into the abyss. And then there’s the tell-your-opponent-you’re-gonna-draw-the-ball-but-play-a-stopshot-instead-leaving-both-stunned shot. Of course, you and him are stunned for different reasons. One’s trying to figure out how he’s managed to snooker himself yet again while the other is occupied mapping out the cruelest/most creative way to inform said one (for the 15th time) that he has as much talent as a crayfish.

Such is the reality of the average pool parlour hacker.

Advertising in the Air

Advertising in the Air is one of those events that makes one feel privileged to be part of the advertising community. Celebrating such amazing work, though filling me with envy, also fills me with hope. It is encouraging to know that, at least for some of us, there really is light at the end of the tunnel. That, sooner or later, we’ll get the opportunity to work for a client with a great product and a great attitude (and a great budget though that isn’t absolutely necessary).

Royston Tan’s “Cut” was hilarious. It voiced out everything that is wrong with this nanny-state mentality we’re stuck with. No doubt it isn’t gonna change anything. (I don’t think anything would change unless, say, we got invaded… er… liberated by the Americans as they have a tendency to do these days.) But at least it’s brought to the censorship board’s attention what the masses think about all this snipping which is, in a nutshell, “CUT IT OUT!”

Ads, Ads and more Glorious Ads. The weird, the wonderful, the painful, the downright unintelligible. Everything was on display. As expected, the Adidas campaign was one of those showcased. I think when you use Muhammad Ali, you’re bound to succeed. But there was that wonderful line too. Impossible is Nothing… you can almost see the thought process.

Copywriter and art-director sit on couch drinking coffee with notepads on table. Either one of them is whistling while the other twiddles a pencil. Deadline’s in an hour.

CW: We’re screwed man.

AD: Yeah. Definitely

CW: Wait… so if I clench my fist really tight, the mosquito won’t be able to stop sucking and explode?

AD: Yeah. Definitely.

CW: Gotta try it once we get this out of the way.

AD: This brief is impossible. (see see?)

CW: Nothing is impossible. (even more see?)

AD: Hmmm…

CW: Hmmm…

AD: Impossible…

CW: Impossible…

AD: is nothing?

CW: Bleah… Jot it down.

And that would have been that. No leaping for joy. No nothing. Serendipity (if it really happened like that) happens more than we’d like to admit.

Linux had a great ad. A boy sits silently on a stool staring blankly while various experts take turns to explain a lot of crazy stuff to him. Chaos theory (it’s all about timing), engineering, programming etc and he just takes it all in. The voiceover describes the project as if the boy is some prototype cyborg whose mind (or hard disk if you must) is imbibing vast amounts of knowledge. It ends with “His name is Linux”. And the tag line? “The Future is Open” if I remember correctly. Loved it.

And then there were those that didn’t appeal to me.

Playstation, I believe, had one where masses of people run onto the streets heading towards one skyscraper (or “sky-scrapper” as I recently read in some company’s whitepaper) and begin swarming it like so many ants over a dead cockroach till they reach the top. A few have their turn to stand at the very peak before falling over only to have their places taken by others. Great art-direction, especially the flyby shot towards the end. But then it just ended with the word “Play”. (Again, my memory is fuzzy but I think that’s how it went.) Which left me puzzled and unsatisfied.

And then there were those where you marveled in part at the creative but more so at the servicing team that managed to sell the idea in the first place. The ad in question was for, again I’m guessing, Nike.

Madison Square Garden. A basketball game is in progress. The crowd is on its feet, cheering, eating, booing etc. That usual NBA tune is playing. Dum dum dum dum repeatedly. I’m sure everyone knows this one. And then the tune stops. The crowd sits down hurriedly and the camera sorta picks out this one puzzled basketball player and another dude in the crowd as they finally realize what’s going on and make a dash for it. Others who can’t find seats are doing the same, scrambling around and grabbing everything that counts as a seat. Forklifts seats, toilet bowls, dressing room stools. Anything. Until finally only the poor basketballer is left standing. And then? The music plays again and the game starts over. Ok… words don’t do this ad justice but it’s basically a glorified inverted version of musical chairs.

How do you even sell this sorta idea to a client?

Suit: Well, you know musical chairs?

Client: Uh-huh…

Suit: We’d like to do it on a larger scale. You know? Like really AWESOME.

Client: …

Suit: So we have this huge arena full of people and everyone has to grab a seat, see? And this one guy doesn’t make it, and well, yeah. It starts all over again from there.

Client: Get outta here.

I suppose this is where a helivac would come in useful for most servicing teams but apparently this one managed to punch through and shoot the client in the head. Good job and a great though somewhat pointless ad. What I’d give to have something like that in my book nonetheless.

Playing ad critic is fun. So this is how Bob Garfield makes a living.

Anyway, for some great TVCs, visit here and here.

Who’s the trekkie?

what’s with the star trek ads? Enterprise, Klingon, “To boldly go where no man has gone before!”.. we don’t use all those words right? oh, oops, look, i just did it

oh well, back to work. I really got to stop bringing work home

Come on now old chap, you can’t blame God for ever…

Come on now old chap, you can’t blame God for everything.

This post doesn’t read as well as it should…

I woke up today and cursed vehemently at the alarm clock. But after enjoying Thursday and Friday off coupled with the weekend, this reaction to being brought so rudely back down to earth was, of course, perfectly justified. Watched Alex Pagulayan beat Chang Pei Wei (or, “Pee Wee Chang”, as the ang mohs insisted) in the World Pool Championships final last night. He looked dead and buried at 11-2 down (I think it was that great a margin), but somehow came back to win 17-15.

Went down to NUS on Thursday for the first time in a year for Pat’s commencement in the capacity of boyfriend/photographer/porter/pay-for-everythinger. The place has changed so much. From a tattered old school, it has now morphed into a tattered old school with cranes and soil heaps all over the place. Charming.

So there was Pat in her convocation gown looking distinctly pregnant on this proud day. But then again, there were a few hundred just as pregnant females, and males for that matter, cluttering up the UCC. I often wonder why universities have to play this cruel joke on their students. Met her parents for the first time. “You look like a secondary school student.” said her father. Gah. Anyway, that comment aside, they seem like nice, easy-going people. Phew.

As with every commencement, an endless orgy of phototaking ensues. The sense in this escapes me but I admit that I was guilty of this as well last year. So you end up with the usual stand-in-front-of-plants-and-strike-a-pose photo. Or the look-at-me-holding-my-cert photo. Or the lets-try-to-look-as-happy-as-we-can pose. And who can forget the classic mortar-boards-in-the-air-while-surrounding-people-run-for-cover shot. Such is the mettle on which the future of our nation will be built.

Watched King Arthur. It was entertaining enough though perhaps not as emotionally gripping as it could have been. Clive Owen seriously looks like Christian Vieri to me when he’s looking grim. When he’s speaking, he reminds me of Nicholas Cage. Merlin… I don’t think catapults count as magic.

Stepped into NTU for the first time in as long as I can remember on Friday in the capacity of beast of burden. That’s not to say that Pat herself wasn’t fully laden as well though. The thing about NTU is that while it has a beautiful sprawling campus, it is exactly this sprawling quality that makes it such a pain in the ass. After you’ve spent half your life just getting there, you still have to navigate long winding roads up and down to God knows where. And I thought Kent Ridge was bad. At least what we had in NUS were just one or two hills. What NTU offers is a veritable mountain range. Thankfully, we had the sense to take a cab. Her hostel looks cosy enough in the old school type of way. A few dim yellow lights and it’d be perfect.

My writing seems rather disjointed today. I wonder why. Inbox says mail. Mail says two solution sheets need to be done. Copywriter says damn you all.

Windoze jokes

I love them. One of my all time favourites is this one:

“Linux is for stability, OS X for productivity, Windows for solitaire.”

Here’s another good one. Apparently, there was a Windows rumor that the Japanese version had its error messages in Haiku. Here’s a supposed example:

“Yesterday it worked

Today it is not working

Windows is like that”

It’s true you know.