The Splendid Quill
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  • March11th

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    I’ve had this song stuck in my head since our last trip to Paris. It was all the rage with the kids, and being a propagator of cool, I have had the burning desire to share it. And certainly not because partial nudity and suggestive situations are common on French television. Although it does make the video a trifle more memorable for us puritanical Americans.

    Side query: how come the French just look cooler than we do? Is it because there’s a general sense of entitlement that we misconstrue as confidence? Or are they really just connected to a deeper level of hip than we are?

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  • March11th

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    2010 is here and with it a new series of tv adverts worth talking about. At least, I hope that’s the case. We’re off to a good start, since it’s now barely March and the first of the wheat has separated from the chaff. And that’s a good thing given that 2009 really sort of….fell flat….for me. The spot is one you’ve likely seen first airing on the Superbowl(a tradition I love to loathe) starring a shirtless stud pimping old spice. In case you’ve been living under a rock and not seen this, it’s better than it sounds. Trust me.

    Now, I personally find the staccato narration a pleasing break from the norm. It’s different, but still colloquial enough to engage the audience in a meaningful way. I prefer the witty nature of the dialogue and find the tongue and cheek magic tricks perfectly balance the expense of the spot with the contrasting cheapness of the product…both in a monetary and armpit standpoint. If you’re a super dork like me, you’ll want to watch this interview with the AD from Wieden+Kennedy who put the piece together. A touch lengthy at 20 minutes, but worth it if you have the time.

  • January8th

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    I’d like to share a story with you. By no means could this story be construed as good, but be that as it may, I feel compelled to share it none the less.

    Some background. Or rather, some context. The year is 2001. In this year I found myself experiencing a resurgence in the punk culture brewing in Albany, I had a red pleather jacket full of cliche buttons that I was perhaps too fond of and way to many friends in the Hartford area. Connecticut…New York…it’s not like Massachusetts was in the way or anything.

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  • January7th

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    The Third & The Seventh from Alex Roman on Vimeo.

    It’s past my bedtime. This is something Lee knows about. And if you don’t know Lee, that’s a possible problem. However, don’t let Lee keep you from watching this. It’s been made by a chap whose name is not Lee, but rather Alex. Alex Roman. It’s long and pretty so hit full screen and settle in for a beautiful ride.

    As an aside, the whole schmeedley-doo is CG. As in those buildings and sets and stuff are all faked in a computer.

    I just don’t get why he spells it “Arquitecture.” Is he trying to make like a new field of design? Like a, “the files are IN the computer(?)” kind of a thing?

    Anyway, just watch it. It’s cool. At least I think it’s cool because I can’t make it. I can’t even fake it. Going to bed now.


  • November26th

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    That’s what Howard said. It’s from a note sent to him several years ago. I shant go into the detail since it’s irrelevant to the discussion at hand, but it has a lot of meaning. In any case, it seems to well illustrate how this Thanksgiving has shaped up. And while we’re on the subject I have a few things to share with everyone.

    For the vast masses that represent my readership, I want to thank you here in the golden light of a Carolina evening on this Thanksgiving. I don’t think I could do it without you. All three of you. That includes my wife and my mom. And half the time I think Nancy just tells me she’s keeping up with it. How sad is that? It’s almost British it’s so sad.

    However, what has been distinctly unBritish is-this Thanksgiving. We’ve intrepidly traveled to North Carolina where I promptly learned I’d been volunteered to cook the turkey. In a broken oven. But, I cleverly hired a few tarheels to rub sticks together long enough to get the bird done. And she’s a beauty at that. There was also a charming beauty to the way the electric coil of the oven exploded half way through the cook cycle. It caught fire and slowly burned an electric fire from the front to the back of the burner. Ever calm, I opened a beer and assured all the guests that a) the house would not burn down and b) the turkey would still be bitchin’.

    It occurs to me that my streak of being right has remained unbroken, other than that sorry scene in 1989 regarding the Berlin wall. But we’re not here to talk about that. What I actually came here to talk about is this ad I stumbled across. It’s from New Zealand. Even better, it’s a PSA. That’s stop motion. And about the wild west. Of New Zealand. Did I mention that yet? Anyway, turn up the volume, enjoy the accent and the truly amazing animation. One day I’ll do something like this at work.

    Maybe Monday.