Asbury & Asbury

Spam flypaper (Instagram Facebook Design Copywriting Logo)

If you are a human being, please don't comment on this post.

Like anyone with a blog, I regularly have to delete stupid spammy comments on other posts, particularly the one I wrote about Instagram for some reason.

So I thought it would be at least mildly amusing to have one post where I don't delete the spam comments, but do point out that anyone you see below is an AUTOMATED SPAMMY IDIOT TIRESOME WASTER OF HUMAN TIME AND ENERGY. AND A TOOL.

If they're linking to a site selling trainers, please note the trainers are rubbish and this person wets themselves every night and has no friends.

I should probably mention Instagram, Facebook, design, copywriting and logo again to draw them in. It may take a while, but they will come.

Thanks for bearing with this, which is purely for my own cathartic purposes.

Mr Small Print

I sometimes miss writing Mr Blog, a character who lived a brief but intense life in late 2010, documenting all the ‘Mr’ shops on Britain’s high streets.

So it’s nice to see him immortalised in a small way in the credits of this year’s D&AD Annual, a copy of which has just arrived at my door.

Mr Blog was approached  by Venture Three to help with the writing on the rebranding of Little Chef – at the time, they didn’t know who was behind the blog and whether I did any commissioned writing. Mr Blog had to adapt his voice to fit with Little Chef’s more populist positioning, but hopefully a few traces remain.

Well done Mr Blog.*


* And well done Mr Tweets too.

Arguably Dylan or Crisp

Walkers Crisps have reportedly relaunched their core crisp flavours with new packaging featuring noticeably wordy product descriptions. Each begins with an adverb, followed by the flavour descriptor, then s0me extra detail giving a sense of 'provenance'.

The device is no doubt intended to add a little verbal garnish, in the style of self-consciously aspirational restaurant menus. However, for me, it's immediately redolent of mid-sixties Bob Dylan song titles.

Hence, in a follow-up to our not-that-popular Dodge or Fall game, we are pleased to introduce... Arguably Dylan or Crisp.

See if you can tell the difference.

Arguably Dylan or Crisp

1. Classically Ready Salted with Salt from Cheshire
2. Distinctively Salt & Vinegar with Real British Vinegar
3. Positively 4th Street
4. Unmistakably Cheese and Onion with Cheddar from Somerset
5. Absolutely Sweet Marie
6. Simply Roast Chicken with Free Range Chicken from Devon
7. Queen Jane Approximately
8. Tantalisingly Tomato Ketchup with Vale of Evesham Tomatoes
9. Obviously Five Believers
10. Only a Prawn in Their Cocktail

To view the answers, either stand on your head or turn your screen upside-down.

Every day is like Blue Monday

Today is Blue Monday, supposedly the most depressing day of the year, but in reality a PR ruse with minimal scientific basis started by Sky Travel to flog holidays. Strangely, once you know that, it does turn it into the most depressing day of the year.

Nevertheless, it felt appropriate to post something today, as a brief nod of solidarity to all the people who have bought a Disappointments Diary and are making their way stoically through the year. Thanks to David Janes for mustering up the energy to send us the pictures above.

If you've bought a diary and would like to be added to the Twitter list of Disappointments Diarists, please let us know. No pleasantries necessary – just tweet us your Twitter name.

If you'd like to 'like' us on Facebook, you can't as we're not on Facebook.

If you haven't bought a diary, the bargain bin January fire sale is now on, so it's more in your price range now.

Finally, we're pondering what to do with the diary next year – so far all plans involve selling out in some way, or not doing anything. If you have any feedback or are currently sleeping with the global commissioning editor at Penguin, please let us know.

Gesamtkunstwerk

I worked on an enjoyable project with design company Build just before Christmas. They were commissioned by German/English magazine Form to create a poster for their ongoing series. The theme of the issue was 'Collaboration' so Build decided to get their Twitter followers involved – the call went out for people to tweet their favourite German or English word. Once 140 words had been collected, Build sent them to me to convert into a poem. A 14-line sonnet tied in with the numerical theme, so I picked out my favourite words, hunted down a few rhyming pairs and created a nonsense poem with vague glimmers of something disturbing going on underneath.

The title translates as a 'total work of art' or 'synthesis of the arts', so it felt right for this synthesis of design, writing and tweeted contributions, as well as the collaboration theme.

The result reads like this:

Gesamtkunstwerk

Bikini bingo: squeezes bosom.
Candid hardcore schlittschuhlaufen.
Super bazinga cosmic rummage.
Scuttling cretin. Prefer knowledge.
Astronaut daydream: rotund baboon.
Infinite aesthetic. Sublime spoon.
Currywurst, saucepan, rundumdum.
Butternut bungalow: dongle numb.
Love bruise. Crumbs. Catastrophe.
Invisible haberdashery.
Gesundheit! Ostrich silhouette.
Spiffing palimpsest cassette!
Coda: Muscovite (loquacious).
Bubble. Bumble. Boggled. Bodacious.

Michael C. Place at Build took the poem as the cue for the illustration and it's lovely to see the words brought to life and interpreted that way (albeit disturbing – the image is arguably even weirder than the poem). 

For images that do justice to the project, see the Build project page. Posters can be ordered online at Form.

Problem: how to win a book

A post to point you towards the Johnson Banks Review of the Year 2012, which has become something of an industry institution. I sent in some contributions that made their way into the mix and won me a copy of the new edition of Problem Solved in return. A good way to start the year.

If you haven’t already moved on from 2012 retrospectives, the full list of contributions I emailed went like this:

Best blog
Mike Dempsey’s six-part story of CDT. Lovely balance of personal and professional insight. 

Over-hyped thing you’d like to see the back of (and that Creative Review should probably stop covering)
Pantone colour of the year. A tired but frustratingly effective PR ruse.

Best ad of the year
Channel 4 ‘Meet the Superhumans’ Paralympics promo. Still electrifying to watch.

Worst ad of the year
Colgate ‘focus group’ – possibly the most excruciating thing ever committed to film.

Second worst ad of the year
Facebook is a bit like a chair, sort of, if you think about it.

Writing project of the year
Ma’amite. Single word, but pretty good.

Best creative project of year
Olympic opening ceremony, obviously.

Worst creative project of the year
Olympic closing ceremony. Conceived by "a hugely powerful establishment creative director who is not actually creative." 

Best creative of year
Danny Boyle

Design of the year
The Heatherwick cauldron is the obvious and deserving choice, but the gold postboxes were a lovely touch. 

Influential design project of the year
gov.uk by Government Digital Service. Still an epic work in progress but on course to be a major design and writing achievement.

Design story of year
The Comedy Carpet not getting in-book at D&AD. An indictment of the design judging culture that ought to be a tipping point, but probably won’t be.

Unfortunate book of the year
The Snowman’s Journey – the book of the John Lewis ad.

Brand refresh of the year
Ecce Homo restoration.

Worst brand use of Twitter
This ‘topical’ tweet from @YahooNews:
Last week a Moscow judge sentenced a band to two years in prison. What musical act would you send to lockup and why? 

Website of year
http://comediansincarsgettingcoffee.com

Quote of the year
“Hard work and grafting.” Mo Farah after winning second gold.

Worst brand campaign
Mini Cooper sponsoring what turned out to be a deadly weather front.

Those we have lost
The Waterstones apostrophe, which inevitably got its own Twitter account.

Much more comprehensive Johnson Banks review here.

Instagram didn’t get the tone wrong

I hesitate to raise the Instagram topic on here. The controversial terms and conditions and subsequent ‘clarification’ have already received wall-to-wall coverage elsewhere.

But there’s a writing angle to the whole thing that needs some airing. The whole story is already being co-opted as a case study in the importance of clear communication and getting the tone right. This worries me, because that’s exactly what it isn’t, at least not in the way that’s being suggested.

This was the main offending paragraph in the terms and conditions:

To help us deliver interesting paid or sponsored content or promotions, you agree that a business may pay us to display your username, likeness, photos, in connection with paid or sponsored content or promotions, without any compensation to you.

There is nothing wrong with the tone of this paragraph. It scores highly on clarity, using plain language, active verbs, personal pronouns (us and you) – all the things writers go on about every day.

There is a lot wrong with the content of the paragraph, at least according to thousands of Instagram users. But that’s not a language issue – it’s a policy issue. Any writers trying to use this as an example of the importance of ‘tone of voice’ are misinterpreting the problem. To an expert in tone of voice, every problem looks like a tone of voice issue.

The situation isn’t helped by Instagram’s disingenuous ‘clarification’, which tries to imply that this was all a miscommunication caused by ‘confusing’ language.

Again, this statement from Instagram has been hailed in various places as a good example of crisis communication – clear and helpful in the way the Ts and Cs weren’t.

But again, this is completely wrong. The Ts and Cs were absolutely clear, even if their content was controversial.

By contrast, the ‘clarification’ is slippery, mealy-mouthed and contradictory.

Here’s how it starts.

Thank you, and we’re listening

Yesterday we introduced a new version of our Privacy Policy and Terms of Service that will take effect in thirty days. These two documents help communicate as clearly as possible our relationship with the users of Instagram so you understand how your data will be used, and the rules that govern the thriving and active Instagram community. Since making these changes, we’ve heard loud and clear that many users are confused and upset about what the changes mean.

Note the spectacularly passive-aggressive headline. The ‘Thank you’ attempts to characterise all this as a friendly exercise in helpful feedback, rather than a furious outcry at being taken for a ride. Note also how the objectors are characterised as ‘confused and upset’, as though they are bewildered lost sheep. As far as I could see, the objectors weren’t remotely confused and, far from upset, were very angry.

It goes on:

I’m writing this today to let you know we’re listening and to commit to you that we will be doing more to answer your questions, fix any mistakes, and eliminate the confusion. As we review your feedback and stories in the press, we’re going to modify specific parts of the terms to make it more clear what will happen with your photos.

Legal documents are easy to misinterpret. So I’d like to address specific concerns we’ve heard from everyone.

This is the most disingenuous part of the whole piece. Again there’s that emphasis on ‘eliminating the confusion’, as though all this is down to the language being unclear. Then comes the massively patronising ‘Legal documents are easy to misinterpret’. The clear subtext is ‘You’re all getting het up because you don’t understand this complicated legal stuff – don’t worry, we’ll try and speak more slowly this time.’

The next paragraph relates to the main offending lines in the terms and conditions quoted above.

Advertising on Instagram

From the start, Instagram was created to become a business. Advertising is one of many ways that Instagram can become a self-sustaining business, but not the only one. Our intention in updating the terms was to communicate that we’d like to experiment with innovative advertising that feels appropriate on Instagram. Instead it was interpreted by many that we were going to sell your photos to others without any compensation. This is not true and it is our mistake that this language is confusing. To be clear: it is not our intention to sell your photos. We are working on updated language in the terms to make sure this is clear.

This sounds pretty good at first – the blunt honesty of ‘Instagram was created to become a business’ (actually a meaningless truism) and ‘To be clear: it is not our intention to sell your photos.’ But there’s some really slippery stuff going on. Note how ‘it is not our intention to sell your photos’ isn’t the same as saying ‘we won’t sell your photos’. Despite the forthrightness of the tone, the message is still unclear – will you or won’t you?

Then there’s the continuing insistence that this is a problem with 'interpretation', culminating in the Orwellian ‘We are working on updated language’.

A reminder – here’s the offending paragraph:

To help us deliver interesting paid or sponsored content or promotions, you agree that a business may pay us to display your username, likeness, photos, in connection with paid or sponsored content or promotions, without any compensation to you.

And here’s what they’re saying now:

To be clear: it is not our intention to sell your photos.

The language here doesn’t need ‘updating’, it needs retracting.

I won’t go on through the rest of statement, but the whole thing reminds me of a politician talking in confident, clear-sounding language – full of ‘let’s be clear’ and ‘we're listening’ – without actually being very clear at all. It’s tonally beguiling, but fundamentally deceptive.

If anything, this whole episode is a demonstration of the slippery charms of tone of voice. The terms and conditions were an example of clear language being used to convey information as simply as possible – it just happened to be controversial information.

The ‘clarification’ is an example of tone of voice being used to obscure and mollify. Almost like a filter applied to a photo, giving it nice fuzzy edges and an air of authenticity.

Given that the clarification has been largely well received, this has become an interesting case study in the power of tone of voice – but one that should make writers, me included, feel pretty uncomfortable.

An intere ting pu lication

I’ve recently worked on an unusual project with Liverpool design company SB Studio. It’s a book about their company, or more accurately about everything except their company.

The title is The world without and the idea is to imagine a world without SB. The jobs that would never have been done, the people who would never have been employed, the office that would never have been occupied. And true to the premise, the book is written without including the letters S or B.

I was aware of a French novel called La Disparition by Georges Perec, which is written entirely without the letter ‘e’. So I thought it would be interesting to try it for SB, albeit not quite to novel length. It's a tall order, ruling out common words such as is, was, does, as, so, about, be and been, as well as most plurals. Not to mention the word design.

But the idea is that you'll flick through the whole book without realising the self-imposed limitation, until the pay-off at the end.

Each desolate and empty spread imagines the various dimensions of life that would be different without SB – “Think of the flipchart unflipped / The experience unexperienced / Each tale untold / Each endline unwritten.”

The main text links to a series of endnotes going into more depth, with Ss and Bs included. As the penultimate footnote states, “When it came to the footnotes, we let ourselves off the hook. We’re not completely crazy.”

As well as being a playful exercise, the idea is a celebration of the creative power of constraints. The trickier the brief, the more enjoyable the process of finding an answer. It’s also a surprisingly good way to focus on what you actually contribute as a company. As George Bailey finds out in It’s A Wonderful Life, imagining the world without you can be an illuminating experience.

Copies of the book (beautifully produced) are available on request from theworldwithout.co.uk

Happy Birthday Polite

We’re reasonably pleased to report that Disappointments Diary is being stocked at the Polite shop at the Hayward Gallery over Christmas.

It’s the only place the diary will be physically stocked, so if you’re based in London and want to try before you buy, you know where to go.

You should go anyway. Polite is a quietly brilliant company that has spent 12 years working with artists including David Shrigley, Harry Hill, Peter Blake, Magda Archer, Scott King, Factory Records, StudioThomson and plenty others. You have probably seen their greetings cards in various design shops. They also produce limited edition books and postcard sets. The aim is to make art more commercially accessible by producing affordable but desirable objects. And they are always beautifully produced.

Polite is celebrating its 12^th birthday and the shop opened at midday today, 12/12/12, so they are obviously good at planning things too.

More details of the shop here and on Design Week.

The diary is still for sale online at disappointmentsdiary.com

Downhill from here

We were delighted to find out Disappointments Diary has made it into the Guardian’s Christmas gift guide. No doubt there will be some compensating bad news soon enough.

The diary also sits grumpily at the bottom of the excellent We Made This gift guide. 

Thanks to everyone who has bought the diary, blogged about it, tweeted about it and generally been supportive.

For the uninitiated, Disappointments Diary 2013 is an appointments diary with a series of disappointing twists. It’s published by Asbury & Asbury, designed by Hat-trick Design and available in no good bookshops – only from disappointmentsdiary.com

Communicashun over-accommodashun, yes?

 

You will by now have seen the video of Joey Barton being interviewed by the French press (above).

And you will surely have seen the Shteeve McClaren interview from his time in Holland:

 

Both videos are brilliantly entertaining, but they got me wondering about the motivations behind this evidently illogical way of talking.

It turns out there's a linguistic term for it – communication accommodation. This takes place when any individual consciously or subconsciously adapts their speech pattern to reflect the person they’re addressing. This usually takes place in subtle ways – mimicking the inflection or using similar vocabulary. When speaking to non-native English speakers, you might also slow down and soften your regional accent, in a reasonable and helpful attempt to make yourself understood.

To some extent, this is what Shteeve And Joe Le Barton are doing – speaking more slowly to make themselves understood, and bringing their accents more in line with the accent of their target audience. For all the mockery they attract, there is a sweet and appealing side to what’s going on – they are trying to help.

But in each case, this is clearly an example of communication over-accommodation: adapting your speech patterns in a way that is so extreme that it becomes condescending and counter-productive.

I wonder whether the term ‘communication over-accommodation’ might come in useful in a branding context too. This may be stretching the analogy, but many brands are continually engaged in a form of communication accommodation – adapting their native language to suit what they perceive as the preferences of their audience. While the default position for a business might be to use formal business-speak and insider jargon, the ‘communication accommodation’ instinct rightly leads them to adopt a more informal, accessible tone in their outside communications.

But in so many cases, it goes further than that. From trying to be personal and accessible, brands end up over-accommodating to the point of being condescending and counter-productive. It’s one thing to stop saying “Please find enclosed herewith the information requested”. It’s another to say “Hiya! Look inside me and you’ll find that gubbins you were after!”

I realise this is one of those posts that takes a topical event and says, 'When you think about it, that's a bit like branding, isn't it?'. But it is a bit like branding, isn't it? There are many Joey Barton and Steve McClaren brands out there. Good instincts, bad execution.

Meanwhile, and on a slightly different note, I'm continuing to document the gap between What you think your Tone of Voice is and what your Tone of Voice is. Joe Le Barton is the latest addition at the foot of the page.

Ghost in the machine

A brief post to point you somewhere else.

To coincide with the release of the 2012 Creative Survey, Design Week asked me to write something about creativity, collaboration and the role of the freelancer.

You can read it here.

Dispatching disappointment

An announcement for anyone who’s ordered a diary. Unfortunately, there’s been a slight hold-up in delivery from the printer – we were hoping to dispatch the first 1,000 today, but it looks like being early next week now. Non-ironic apologies for this. But rest assured, if you placed your order before Friday 9 November, your limited edition copy will be going out next week.

If you’ve placed an order since Saturday 10 November or are placing one now, it’ll be a non-limited-edition but nevertheless massively disappointing version. These will dispatch in the first week of December.

This whole thing has been an eye-opener for us. We underestimated the logistical challenge of parcelling up and labelling this many diaries. The picture above shows the youngest Asbury being roped in to help. (If you have concerns about child labour laws, you are right to.) But all the envelopes are printed and ready to go. We just need the diaries to arrive.

Disappointments Diary 2013 is a pocket-sized appointments diary with a series of disappointing twists. Initially produced in a limited edition of 1,000 copies, the diary is now available more widely. It's published by Asbury & Asbury, designed by Hat-trick Design, and available from disappointmentsdiary.com

Sold out and laboriously restocked

A couple of weeks ago, we announced the publication of Disappointments Diary 2013, an appointments diary with a series of disappointing twists, designed in collaboration with Hat-trick Design.

It came in a disappointingly limited edition of 1,000 numbered copies. The site has been open for advance orders, but the bulk won't ship until after 14 November (we're waiting on the main delivery). If you've ordered one, thanks both for the custom and your patience. All 1,000 are now accounted for, including about 25 that we kept back for ourselves.

In a rash and self-defeating business decision, we have now ordered some more. These won't be numbered and therefore come without that carefully contrived limited edition cachet. However, in all other respects, they are every bit as disappointing.

Again, there will be a delay between ordering and delivery. You can place orders any time at disappointmentsdiary.com, but orders placed from today won't ship until after 4 December. Still in good time for Christmas, and certainly for 2013 itself.

If you weakly succumb to one purchasing decision today, make it this one: disappointmentsdiary.com

2013: unlucky for all

Our last post announced the launch of Disappointments Diary 2013, a new publication from us in collaboration with Hat-trick Design. Here is a more exhaustively detailed description.

Disappointments Diary 2013 is a pocket-size (125mm x 85mm), week-to-view diary with a series of disappointing twists.

As well as functional information about notable dates, the diary includes a series of ‘Notable Deaths’, acting as a depressing reminder of the great people who have already left us. Sunset times are given in the ‘Onset Of Night’ section, while conversion charts include information on the relative weights of lead balloons and damp squibs.

Each week comes with a demotivational proverb, including ‘Genius is 99% perspiration and you’ve mastered that bit’, ‘There are plenty more fish in the vast, implacable ocean’, and ‘Another day, another net loss’.

A contacts section includes 'People Who Never Call', 'People You Owe Money', 'Imaginary Friends' and 'Imaginary Enemies'. Blank sections include 'Notes toward a dull novel' and 'Pointless doodles'. There are also maps of the London Underground (unhelpfully in black and white) and the M25.

Disappointments Diary 2013 is available in a limited edition of 1,000 numbered copies from disappointmentsdiary.com Advance orders are being taken, with first copies shipping on 14 November.

Sales are moving surprisingly non-sluggishly, so it's worth ordering soon if you want one. The more likely scenario is that you'll ignore this, have a change of heart in a couple of weeks, go to order one and find it's sold out because you were too slow as usual.

Disappointments Diary 2013

Today we launch a new publication: Disappointments Diary 2013.

An appointments diary with a series of disappointing twists.

Plenty more will be written about it on this blog, but for now, you can read some background on Creative Review.

First copies ship on 14 November, but we’re taking advance orders at disappointmentsdiary.com

It was a privilege to collaborate with Jim Sutherland of Hat-trick Design on this. He came up with an appropriately downbeat feel for the whole thing, including grey pages that get subtly darker as you make your way grimly toward the end.

More details next week. But why not just cut to the chase and buy one.

The end of the beginning

Someone has bought wrimb.com. A respectful nod to Eric in Massachusetts.

In a sense, this marks the end of the Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms. All 20 names on the original list have now found an owner. It turns out somebody wanted them after all.

Yet this is hopefully just the end of the beginning. I have developed an attachment to these unwanted monosyllables and will be tracking their progress. It would be nice to think one of the 20 might achieve some form of wider recognition.

I may also repopulate the Hall at some point. There must be more forgotten monosyllables that need good homes.

In the meantime, thanks to anyone who has followed or contributed to this, particularly those who got in touch having bought one of the names. Updates would be welcome, whether now or in years to come.

For the full Chronicles of the Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms, see this series of posts, and this post on Creative Review.

Remembering John Hanna

If you were reading this blog in 2009, you may remember a post appealing for information about illustrator John Hanna, who created a series of beautiful covers for Country Fair magazine in the early 1950s. Remarkably little information existed about him online, but thanks to a few plucky commenters we managed to track down more information about his life and work.

Now designer-maker Jenny Duff has been in touch to say she’s been given permission to create a series of table mats reviving those original illustrations. The illustrations were offered to her by the family of journalist and publisher Macdonald Hastings, who edited Country Fair. According to Jenny’s website, the family remember using copies of the magazines as table mats when they were children, so it’s fitting that they should be reincarnated in this way.

They make for a lovely collection. Maybe it’s proof that good work will always be rediscovered eventually, however long it takes.

The Last of the Unwanted

Since our last update four days ago, there has been a flurry of activity in the Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms.

At that point, there were just five unclaimed names left from the original list of 20. (For the uninitiated, this was a list of 20 dotcom names, all fewer than seven letters, one syllable and easy to pronounce, yet mysteriously still available after all these years.)

After the post went up, René from Germany was the first to get in touch, explaining the reasoning behind his purchase of klorp.com, grulch.com and blorph.com. Having initially rejected throdge.com, he had a change of heart and decided to buy it anyway. More on his blog.

A gentleman called Jacob Bars Bailey then stepped in to buy plooped.com, in the face of no competition whatsoever.

Another gentleman called Will then decided to buy skrolch.com

There was an intriguing admission from Big Iain that he was once the owner of throdge.com, but had allowed it to lapse – a claim he is able to back up through the Wayback Archive. This opens up an important new front in the Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms. It hadn't occurred to me that some of these names might have a pre-history. It feels similar to discovering there may once have been water on Mars.

You can catch up with all the goings-on in the comments on the original post and on the Creative Review post.

The most important news is that there is now just one name left in the Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms. As of 14:00 hrs on 8 October 2012, wrimb.com remains unclaimed.

This is satisfying, as it is undoubtedly the worst name on the original list. Although easy to pronounce, it would need to be spelt out every time it was used in conversation. That said, it is five letters, which is commercially desirable. As has been pointed out in previous comments, it might suit the Welsh Rugby International Marketing Board or the West Riding International Marching Band, except that neither organisation exists.

Deep down, I hope nobody buys wrimb.com. It would be nice for it to wander the Hall in perpetuity.

But who knows what will happen next?

The Shrinking Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms

NB: this post will make more sense if you’ve read the previous Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms post, which was subsequently adapted and republished on Creative Review.

The Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms was a list of 20 unwanted dotcom names, all one syllable, easy to pronounce and seven letters or fewer. In the intensely competitive market of dotcom names, it struck me as strange that there were any such words left at all.

It also raises some interesting questions. What makes one made-up word more commercially desirable than another? Can a word be so intrinsically ugly that it has no market value? Why do we perceive some words as ugly? Could ‘gludge’ not mean something beautiful?

With such questions in mind, it’s been fascinating to release these 20 unwanted words out into the wild and track their progress. Many of the names were snapped up quickly when the post went up on Creative Review.

As far as I can tell, Thlunk was the first to go on 19 September. Not the one I would have picked as the main contender.

Nine names were claimed on the 20 September: Gludge, Blorph, Frunge, Brolge, Crench, Klorp, Strebb, Phlut and Grulch.

Gruld and Blarse took a while longer to shift, eventually finding owners on 21 September, while Splegg and Thrord followed on 24 September.

After an uncomfortable hiatus, Prork was claimed on 4 October. As one of the five-letter words, I had expected this to go sooner.

To date, only one of these sites has any proper content, if you can call it that:

Thanks to Marcus for creating gludge.com

Most of the rest are generic holding pages. Nevertheless, there is something touching about seeing these words take on a life of their own.

Good luck to you, Brolge.

And rest assured I will try again later, Klorp.

So who’s buying these names? Most of the owners are anonymous, although a search on whois reveals some information about their whereabouts. As far as I can tell, klorp.com and grulch.com belong to the same guy in Germany. Brolge.com has an owner in New Jersey. And prork.com went to someone in Sydney.

Over in the Creative Review comments, a nice fellow called Jimmy admitted to buying splegg.com and thrord.com. He notes that splegg already has a useful meaning in Northern Irish slang, referring to “a situation which is too cool for any other words.” He opted for thrord on a more random basis, with a view to creating “a website involving a word with no existing definition”. I’ll certainly share it here if it happens.

Another guy called Adrian admitted to buying gruld.com and blarse.com, as yet with no clear plans, but it’s early days.

If you’ve bought one of the other domains and are reading this, it would be great to hear from you. I would really like to track these stories.

But finally we must look solemnly at the remaining names in the Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms. The unwanted of the unwanted.

As of 15.00 on 4 October 2012, these five names remain unclaimed:

throdge.com
skrolch.com
wrimb.com
sprolge.com
plooped.com

I have to say I’m surprised by throdge and sprolge and have high hopes for them in the future.

But I’m also impressed by the astuteness of the readership. Wrimb is something of a turkey in the list. Five letters, which is good. But it doesn’t really pass the pronunciation test. Say it out loud over the phone and you’d immediately have to explain how it was spelt.

The same could be argued of skrolch, which could be spelt with a ‘c’. (That said, I’ve just noticed scrolch.com is also available, so a smart buyer might go for them as a pair to cover all bases.)

Plooped is no surprise. It’s past tense and already has a suggestion of a meaning, and not a very nice one. No one is going to buy plooped.

So the Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms is down to five. But for how long? And what fate lies ahead for those who have flown the nest? Could phlut.com or crench.com one day be globally recognised brands?

More updates soon.

The Hall of Unwanted Dotcoms

Anyone who has ever tried to register a dotcom will tell you that all the names are taken. Even the most unlikely ones.

Either there’s an organisation somewhere for whom the name is perfect, or the professional dotcom squatters have snapped it up in the hope of a future bid. If you’re after a short, one-syllable, easily pronounceable name, there is simply nothing left.

Or very nearly nothing.

There's a certain sub-group of domain names that remain available for a minimal fee, even two decades into the age of the Internet. They are all one syllable, easy to pronounce and seven letters or fewer: qualities that are gold dust in normal circumstances. Yet they are presumed so awkward, ugly and uninspiring that nobody – not even the dotcom squatters – can bring themselves to go near them.

This post is a testimony to those names. By the truest test of all – the market – these are the ugliest monosyllables in the language.

gludge.com

blorph.com

frunge.com

splegg.com

thrord.com

gruld.com

brolge.com

crench.com

klorp.com

throdge.com

skrolch.com

wrimb.com

strebb.com

blarse.com

phlut.com

sprolge.com

thlunk.com

plooped.com

prork.com

grulch.com

These names are all available for a minimal fee from any domain registration service as of 18 September 2012. There are more out there, though I have tried to stay as close as possible to relatively straightforward words. I will add more from time to time – please let me know if you find any particularly good ones (one syllable, fewer than seven letters, easy to pronounce).

More importantly, let me know if any of these are taken off the market, especially if it’s as a result of seeing them on this site. I have no commercial interest, but would like to track the fate of these sad monosyllables.

UPDATE:

This post has been republished on Creative Review. Since then, over the course of 20-21 September, many of the names have been taken, although content has yet to go up.

As far as I can tell, klorp.com and grulch.com now belong to the same guy in Germany. Brolge.com has an owner in New Jersey. And gludge.com belongs to Marcus in the UK, who has done this with it. Others have gone to anonymous owners elsewhere.

It remains to be seen if these are (possibly automated) domain squatters or people with interesting plans. If you’ve bought one of the domains and are reading this, it would be nice to hear from you.

As of 14.30 on 21 September 2012, these eight names remain unclaimed:

splegg.com
thrord.com
throdge.com
skrolch.com
wrimb.com
sprolge.com
plooped.com
prork.com

Seriously, guy in Germany, what’s wrong with throdge.com?

Stop writing self-absorbed packaging copy and use the space as a platform for interesting creative writing instead.

This is a thought I’ve had for a while – not an original one, but something that I don’t see any brands pursuing in a big way. I’ve always hoped to build a relationship with a suitable client who might be interested. But I’ve recently decided the best thing is to blog about it, throw it out into the world, and see if anyone else thinks the same and/or wants to follow it up.

The premise doesn’t need much explaining. Packaging copy annoys a lot of people. It’s frequently overly familiar, infantilising and navel-gazing. I’ve written before about the rise of ‘wackaging’ and plenty more people have noticed and documented the same trend.

The problem is, from the point of view of the client, packaging copy is hard to get right. The safest approach is to give straightforward, concise information about your product, but it feels like an opportunity missed. But try injecting any form of personality, and it can quickly ring false, or fall into the same over-familiarity trap as every other brand. In the end, you're trying to give personality to something that is by its nature impersonal and mass-produced. There are a few exceptions, but generally it’s a losing battle.

This is frustrating, because packaging ought to be a great platform for writing. You have a blank canvas on which to write in a more relaxed, discursive way than conventional advertising allows. You often have a captive audience in a receptive state of mind, idly reading the cornflakes packet over breakfast, or the crisp packet over lunch, or glancing at the copy on the toothpaste tube while brushing their teeth. With such a great chance to engage and entertain audiences, why do brands end up annoying them so much?

The argument of this post is that brands are missing a trick by thinking too narrowly about the possibilities. Packaging is indeed a great platform for writing, but there’s no rule that says the writing has to be about the product that the packaging contains. Rather than writing at length about the simplicity of your ingredients or the lovely folk who work for your company, why not use the space as a platform for writing that people really want to read? A short story, a poem, or a thought piece by a great writer? It may not relate directly to your brand, but if people enjoy it, they’ll make the emotional connection.

In 1986, the American writer Judith Chernaik approached Transport for London with the idea of putting poetry on spare advertising space on tube trains, and Poems on the Underground was born. It’s been massively successful and introduced millions of people to great poetry. What’s to stop a Kraft Foods or Unilever from launching a Poems on Your Packaging range, spanning everything from breakfast cereals to shampoo? What about a specially commissioned Carol Ann Duffy poem with your cornflakes, or Michael Rosen with your Cheerios? A thought for the day from Alain de Botton on your loaf of bread, a traditional haiku on your toothpaste tube, or a leisurely Clive James essay on your smoothie? It could be a great way to introduce people to interesting writing, and would spare us all the chummy copy about how simple-and-not-at-all-mass-produced your product is.

This isn’t a new idea. Plenty of children’s brands feature jokes and puzzles to turn the packaging into entertainment, albeit of the heavily branded kind. The original and best example is the jokes you used to get on ice lolly sticks: no overt brand message, just a nice joke because there was space on the stick to write one.

But as far as I’m aware, the principle has never been applied on a bigger scale, or for a more grown-up audience. I’d love to see the big brands commissioning new work from our best poets, novelists, journalists, philosophers and comedians – and it feels like an open goal in the current climate. There are obvious upsides – you’ll be seen to support the arts; you can encourage literacy in kids and families; you can pitch it at a populist or higher brow level; you can turn the packaging into collectable items; you can run serialised stories to encourage brand loyalty; and you’ll be able to claim this whole territory as your own, before anyone else does.

So there you go. Stop writing self-absorbed packaging copy and use the space as a platform for interesting creative writing instead. It’s easier to have these ideas than to make them happen, but it would be nice to see some version of it one day.

PS: If anyone knows of brands that have done this, I’d be interested to hear about them. Another example that comes to mind are the missing persons ads you get on milk cartons in some countries, which aren’t an example of creative writing, but do use the canvas for a socially useful purpose. I’m sure I’ve seen a project that involved printing news stories onto milk cartons as well, but can’t remember where.

PPS: Some readers may know I run a project called WrapperRhymes, which features poems handwritten onto food packaging. This is a different idea, but maybe there’s a connection in spirit – the idea of packaging as a vehicle for unexpected creativity.

Image by kashley with thanks to @huntaround

Diamond Bob

I've just had a piece of writing published on the poetry and cultural review blog Eyewear. It's called Diamond Bob and is a collision of two texts: the Barclays Strategic Report 2011 (Chief Executive's Review / Citizenship section) and the traditional protest song Diamond Joe.

You can read it on Eyewear.

Sometimes you feel an urge to write something quickly in response to news events and this kind of collage of found texts feels like a natural way to do it. Not strictly a 'found' poem as it involves some creative intervention and arranging. But not a fully authored poem either, as you're acting more as an editor than a writer.

I did something similar with Corpoetics a few years ago, which rearranged the words of corporate websites, including Barclays:

That said, the most socially useful piece of writing I've done in response to recent events was filling out my application form for a new account with the Co-operative Bank.

What you think your Tone of Voice is and what your Tone of Voice is

More examples here.

(This is something I was moved to create while pondering the gap between the Tone of Voice to which a brand aspires and the reality it usually achieves. See previous post for more reflections on wackaging and the trouble with copywriting.)