iSigh...

Tomorrow, many men and women will strut about with their iPhones. Today, they wait.

I can neither strut nor queue up. All I can do is rewind to Feb'07 when Apple aired this teaser ad during the Oscars.

Hazaron khwahishen aisi

Mirza Ghalib had made greed seem poetic. Google AdWords introduced us to the wonderful world of contextual advertising on the Internet. Now that we're used to the good stuff, we're greedy for more. That's why we hope Yahoo's new search marketing platform--Panama--breaks some new ground.

If you have anything to do with online advertising, read this review on Panama by Tomio Geron on Red Herring.

Those who find Ghalib's poetry more fascinating than Search Engine Marketing can get the lyrics of the ghazal quoted in the title and its meaning here.

I thought you just loved queuing up

...but the findings of the Queue Frustration Survey have opened my eyes.

agencyfaqs! reports:

...consumers are signaling loud and clear that they are just not in favour of queuing up.

Research, I guess, is the new-age imperative. It adds more push to the argument, especially if one is trying to push a mediocre ad campaign. ("It will be difficult for the CEO to bounce a campaign if it's backed by research.")

What next? Probably we'd need research to tell us that 3 out of 4 people form 75% of the population. Or that bread almost always falls on the buttered side.

Now laugh, because research has shown that those who laugh frequently last 68% longer than those who don't.

Logo, na maaro isey

Logo design has always been a subjective issue. Many lousy logos litter the neons while some good ones never see the light of day.

The recently revealed Olympics 2012 logo, however, has proved one thing--you can design logos with your eyes closed. All you need is some Lego pieces. Arrange a few pieces any way you like and then call a spin doctor who can see great meaning in every piece of trash. S/he will find suckers to dole out the dough. One man's Lego is another man's logo.

Talking about spin-doctoring, Wolff Olins--the agency that designed the logo--had this to offer by way of explanation on its website:

Neither an appendage to London nor the Olympic symbol, it brings the two together in an inclusive way. It is a brand which can be read and understood by people of all ages, around the
world...

...Echoing London's quality of a modern, diverse and vibrant
city, the London 2012 emblem is unconventionally bold, deliberately spirited and unexpectedly dissonant.

The agency has now removed most of the logo-related content from its website.

Amit Varma of India Uncut has his hilarious-as-usual take on the logo here (parental guidance recommended). Seth Godin calls it a jaggy picture. The jaggy picture punched a hole in Olympic Committee's deep pockets and £400,000 fell through. Loose change!

Those of you who're still wondering why the jagged pieces are arranged the way they are, see if you can find 2 0 1 2 in the logo. Go read up some de Bono.

In letter, not in spirit

Among all communication material, advertisements probably receive the maximum creative attention per sq cm. Communication strategies & creative routes are discussed and thrown around, each word in the copy is often debated and the art director's hair grows grayer with each campaign.

Contrast that with the amount of attention that a letter on the company letterhead receives. Many a time, letters are hurriedly typed and sent out without so much as a second look. The truth is these letters play a great role in building/damaging your brand. As a consumer, I know that your adverts are "created" with an objective (although subconsciously I might associate it with spontaneous expression). On the other hand, when I receive a letter, I take it as a personalised expression of your true intent. If an ad and a letter were to say contradictory things, I would believe the letter. If you shouted "I care for you like your mama does" in your ads and then got my name wrong in your letter, I would care two hoots for your advertising.

If an ad is akin to loud self-congratulatory drumbeats, a letter is like a personalised whisper. We do not seem to realise this and end up emitting careless whispers. I once received a letter from ICICI Bank that addressed me as Mr Aggarwal! That the letter was signed by one Smita Aggarwal provided no solace.

Guilty feet have got no rhythm...