24 September 2010

Bad Media

I don't own a TV. Not bragging, just stating a fact.

That means that I watch the baseball games on radio, like God intended.

Which means I hear the ads going over the aether, which subsidize Milo and the Gang.

Christ, they're awful.

Probably the worst are those local cats who hire a semi-literate ballplayer to read bad copy.

No, I tell a lie. The worst are those who write their own copy and read it themselves. Mic-shy, they mumbleacross......... thecopywhich they .........themselveshavewrittenand........insert.....oddpausesbetween.....phrases.....whichshould.......have been linked. You get the idea. These are folks who by and large have been great salesmen in their lies, but who just freeze up in front of a microphone, and are too shy to ask for a re-take. But Hell, it's their own money and their own time. They're paying for their own vanity.

Those cats who pay the ballplayers to do the voiceover, they just teh stoopid. The guy's a professional ballplayer, not a voiceover artist. Give him his famous guy discount and run him out of the store before he upsets the real customers. Ask to use his name in testimonials, but don't put him on the air. It makes you and him both look like whores. Him, for accepting the commission, and you, for offering it. Now that I think of it, I imagine there might be some bit of turbulence between the affianced and the fiance. (Sticks fingers in ears and retreats to discreet distance).

That's OK, you say, I'll just give the copy to the broadcasters to read. (Pardon me while I go laugh and/or puke). Unless it fits the rhythm of the game, your copy is going to be read cold and bald on the interval requested. It could take years for the broadcasters to get into the swing of your copy, taglines, and so on. And the silver throat you relied on reading the copy might have to hit the head when it comes time to read the deathless prose about your siding product or regale the audience with anecdotes of your steadfastness as a roofer or car dealer.

Hey! You wanna know where all those old 8-tracks went? I'll tell you.

They're called “carts”, and that's where your ad should go. Bring them one.

Most folks are mic-shy. John Lennon, for example, used to use the half hour before performance vomiting. From stage fright. There's no dishonor in stage fright.

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