Tamil Radio ads for Apple products

My mac mini has been lying around, unused, ignored, in a dusty corner of the house wearing a plaintive look that can best be translated as- “Boot me. Please”. To add insult to injury, my brother has been booting Windows XP on it (Dual boot using Bootcamp) and playing games on it.

For Mac OS X, that is the unkindest cut of all. Being ignored while a buggy piece of bloatware from the beast in Redmond uses that beautiful piece of compact hardware like a Hindi movie villian looting izzat from the hero’s sister.

So I decided to restore some parity and started up Garageband yesterday on OS X to try something creative. To put things in perspective, Windows ships with the almighty Sound Recorder, while OS X ships with Garageband, a full fledged music studio for amateurs.

Earlier in the day, Mr Krish Raghav (budding journalist, bon vivant raconteur and passionate gamer) came up with some ideas on what 80s Tamil radio ads for today’s products might sound like. In fact, we had a brief discussion on radio ad formats, and we settled on three that were exceedingly common:

1. Person A uses a product. Person B gets curious and expresses desire to learn about product. Person A launches into features of product and praises it to the heaven. Person B expresses gratitude and sings his own paeans of product.

2. Person A asks kid(s) a question. Kid’s answer, for no apparent reason, includes product reference. Person A quizzically asks Person B why? Person B provides highly contrived connection between product and kid’s answer.

3. A problematic situation is explained/enacted. Enter savior, who, by the smart application of product, solves aforementioned problem. Everybody praises product.

So, how would Apple advertise on Tamil radio. Hear on:

all voices: Krish Ashok ; Script: Krish Raghav and Krish Ashok

Apologies to those who do not understand Tamil. I thought about doing this in English, but it didn’t quite sound authentic. Anyway, contest on for best English translation of above audio clip. Prize: Custom designed Merit Badge.

The Chennai Intellectual Dadabudality Questionnaire

At the Gates of the Chennai Intellectual High Falutin Peter Parties  Club.

Sir. I need to ask you a few questions before I let you enter.

What do you mean? I am an intellectual. For God’s sake man, I’m wearing a khadi kurta and sporting a Hugo Boss perfume. I even sport a beard. Can’t you see?

Yes sir, but I need to determine your intellectual dadabudality score for admission purposes.

Ok. Go ahead.

Please fill this questionnaire

Choose one, and only one choice for each question.

1. Free Market economics is

• a) Saravana Stores – It’s so cheap that it’s almost “free” I say
• b) Good – It’s the only system that has been successful. Socialism has always played the Gottu Vaadhyam and written arrears every year
• c) Evil – It’s an imbalanced, post-colonial system where rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer, and Rajini makes money by just saying that dialogue
• d) None of the above

2. I dislike The Hindu because

• a) There are no photos of item girls right above the front-page news item on the tragedy in Darfur.
• b) It did not declare Narendra Modi to be the 11th avatar (Parson Ki Avatar) of Vishnu
• c) It is a dull, elitist paper and the crossword is too easy to solve.
• d) Naan of the above

3. Mainstream News Channels on TV suck because

• a) They sensationalize everything and play footage of gore, vandalism, Jodha Akbar and Raj Thackeray ad infinitum
• b) They did not declare Narendra Modi the 11th avatar (Parson Ki Avatar) of Vishnu
• c) If I wanted to watch theatrics and drama, I would wear a Khadi kurta and Hugo Boss perfume and watch a play in the Music Academy
• d) None of the above

4. Special Economic Zones are

• a) are places where SEZone papdi is made? At low cost?
• b) good because they encourage free enterprise and unleash a wave of positive capitalism that spells RICHNESS and make India shine like Photoshop->Blending Options->Add Outer Glow.
• c) A devious form of economic colonialism not very different from the “trading rights” given to the East India company in the 1700s.
• d) Nun of the above

5. Bollywood cinema is

• a) Intolerable Indipadams, but their heroines are so fair, ya
• b) Financed by the Dubai and Karachi mafia, and dominated by people with the surname “Khan”. If Narendra Modi was PM, this would never happen.
• c) Sad symbols of the crass materialism that has crept into our society (said while sipping on imported, organic Kiwifruit juice) . It is post-colonial, I say.
• d) None of the above

6. My favourite Kurtas come from

• a) Rasi Silks
• b) Fabindia and Kalpadruma
• c) Lifestyle
• d) Noon of the above

7. My favourite sarees come from

• a) Bright, vibrant silks from Pothys
• b) MS Blue from Nalli and Kumaran
• c) Dull, dreary, pastel-shaded designer silks and high-society cotton from Hayagrivas, Sundari Silks and Family Saree Supplier from Kanchipuram who brings his wares home
• d) None of the above

8. Software Engineers are

• a) making life difficult for all of us by causing land and commodity prices to hit the roof, break it and move into the stratosphere.
• b) The reason why India (well, the part that matters anyway, hehe) is shining.
• c) A reaffirming sign that 60 years after independence, India still has a order-taking, slave mentality. Software engineers add no value to society and culture. They do nothing remotely creative and create no intellectual property. India’s software boom is a post-colonial, post-modern condition.
• d) Nine of the above

9. Indian Education is

• a) Capitation fees
• b) still not teaching our children the glories of the Hindu civilization
• c) Post-colonial and Post-modern and therefore inneffective
• d) None of the above

10. India is still beset with poverty because

• a) Corrupt politicians rule us, ya
• b) Narendra Modi has not been declared PM-for-life
• c) Poverty is a post-modern, post-colonial condition
• d) Nun of the above

11. Soaps are

• a) Radaan productions
• b) Made from animal fat and therefore non-vegetarian, even if I don’t eat them. I will not use animal products unless they are cow’s milk or tiger’s skin
• c) a sad reminder of the post-colonial and post-modern condition of Indian society
• d) None of the above

12. I am so cultured that

• a) I throw garbage only within 2 metres of the garbage bin
• b) I buy a season ticket for the December Carnatic season every year
• c) I grew up in a petri-dish
• d) Naan of the above

 

Scoring key

5 points for a, 10 points for b, 15 points for c, 0 points for d

0-30 – Escape Ekambaram

35-75 – Normal

80-145 – Modi Visiri Kazhagam member

>150 – Indian Intellectual Peter Party

Caveat Emptier

I like advertisements.

Actually, make that, “I find advertisements very entertaining”.

As an art form, just like movies, books, drama, music, programming, cooking, sleeping at work, telling lies etc, ads have uplifted human society from the dreadfully boring world of dry scientific facts into the ethereal world of questionably scientific fiction.

But what I have a problem with is the unwillingness of companies to tell the general public that their 30 second spot and full-page spread are filled with so many lies that Mr Corporate Pinocchio would have to send a faster-than-light spaceship on a multi-year mission if he had to pick his nose.

Many years back, a radio ad in Tamil Nadu featured two loud-talking adults discussing the alphabet learning journey of one of their kids. The kid is then asked – “Recite ABC for me, will you?”, and the kid dutifully replies – “AUE”. The questioner, slightly disturbed at this wholesale rearrangement of the English alphabet, asks the parent worriedly – “Enna. Child is saying AUE instead of ABC?”.

It is at this point that the parent reassures the questioner that it’s perfectly normal because every jet pump, motor pump, water pump and other forms of pumps in their house are all manufactured by the AUE company from Coimbatore.

Now, ordinarily, we wouldn’t let the brand name of jet pumps influence a child’s learning of a language (unless of course, one is talking about Nike or Reebok pumps), but the ad is so over the top that it’s harmless.

But today’s ads are another cup of tea and masala bun altogether.

They are dead serious about their lies, and dangerously subtle about it. So here are the 10 avatats (Not to be confused with the 10 avatars of One-Who-Chills-Out-Lying-On-A-Snake-While-Creative-Four-Headed-Secretary-Does-The-Real-Work) of the Dark Lord of the Ad, Caveat Emptier.

Fishyavatar - where the He coins fishy scientific jargon such as Silver Nano particles,  and Triple filtered, Reverse Osmosized Drinking Water to fool us into believing that if it’s Dihydrogen oxide, it’s got to be superior to water.

Turtlavatar - where the He grows a straggly beard, wears a turtle-neck sweater and peddles beautiful looking, underpowered, overstylish, underfeatured products that cause a flash flood of salivary amylase once a year in January.

Boaravatar - where the Lord urges us to do to packets of chips, pizza and other heart-disease causing food items what Obelix does to boars.

Lionavatar - where the Lord shows us soaring images of bravery and courage and subtly suggests that there is a link between the consumption of the product he is trying to peddle and the aforementioned qualities.

Kidavatar - where the Lord indulges in wholesale kidsploitation (defined as the exploitation of rich, upper-middle class kids as ad models, not covered under the child labour act because well..they are rich and upper middle-class ) to sell us everything from biscuits to life insurance.

Parachute Ramavatar – where the Lord shows us scenes of despair, and then parachutes in to solve the problem with life insurance, mobile phones, detergents, bubble gums and carbonated beverages.

Ramavatar – where He is the paragon of truth, keeper of hope, defender of freedoms, general purpose superhero and peddler of biscuits.

Casanovatar - where He tells us that he is cool, smart and hip because he uses AOL email, drinks sugary carbonated water from stylish blue tins and uses words like “Bheedu”

Buddhavatar - where the Lord promises us intelligence and enlightenment, in exchange for popping Brainvita pills and watching Tata Sky television.

And finally, Kal Ka Avatar – where he tells us in no uncertain terms, that he will be back the next day, and the next day,  and the next day…

Click on the image to see a larger version

It’s that time of the year again

Hillary and Obama are fighting over primaries.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, primarily, February is the time when men go “Oh Bummer” and ponder at the upcoming loss of hilarity in their lives.

It’s that time of the year when one needs to decide what would make a suitable Valentine’s day gift for The Girl. And it’s not funny at all.

Admittedly, I am supposed to be an old hand at this, but..

Every year brings the same nerve-wracking pressure. What is a suitable symbol of undying love in commemoration of a priest in Rome who suffered martyrdom about AD 269? Here is a quick chronology.

My experiments with Valentine Day gifts

Cast

• Ashok
• Inner Narada

Circa 1990s

Many years ago, I stepped nervously into an Archies showroom to buy a vaguely pinkish piece of paper that professed undying love for a girl whom I had not even made conversation with. I found a suitable candidate, picked it up, forked over Rs. 20, and walked out.

That was when the Inner Narada announced lugubriously – “Archies? Thoo. Is that how you profess undying love? By buying a mass-produced piece of paper with words authored by some one else, probably an overworked clerk who mostly spends his time cursing his boss for not giving him free time to meet his girlfriend? Aah, the sheer irony.”

I threw that card away.

I walked into a Cassette shop to buy the next girl in my life, “The greatest hits of Richard Marx”. Apparently in the 90s, Richard Marx tapes were chick magnets.

The Inner Narada intoned sarcastically – “Thoo. So where ever your girl goes, whatever she does, Richard Marx will be right there, waiting for her. Is that what you want to tell your girl? Are you the one professing love or are you simply a messenger for Mr Marx?”

Oh well. The cassette tape, in addition to its claim of being a chick magnet, was most definitely a magnet magnet because it got stuck in the head of the tape player and caused Mr Marx to sing in the scale of an MD Ramanathanesque C instead of a Kumar Sanuesque E

So I moved on to Soft toys. Teddy bears holding I heart you signs, Monkeys holding roses, Gorillas playing guitars,  Grizzly bears playing Antaakshari, Duck-billed Platypi playing the harmonica etc.

The Inner Narada stated softly – “So yeah. Underpaid, overworked, Southeast Asian kids are currently saying ‘I love you so much that I don’t mind missing out school and playtime making this for you so that talentless losers like the one who spent Rs. 100 buying this from a company that pays me Rs. 0.5, can try to impress you‘”

Ah surely jewellery then must be the right thing. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, Rubies are her facebook friends, Emeralds must be on her blogroll and surely Sapphires must be her Orkut fans.

The Inner Narada informed insouciantly – “Blood Diamonds. Platelet Rubies. Lymphocyte Sapphires. African Warlords. Guns for Gems. Is that what you want to tell your girl? That you love her so much that you don’t mind sacrificing thousands of African lives to buy her a piece of Carbon?”

Ok. Surely, flowers are a safe bet. After all, that was the tradition in the middle ages, when Valentine’s day first became popular.

The Inner Narada smirked sardonically – “Plant reproductive parts, plucked out cruelly before they could bear fruit, only to be bunched together to die a slow, dehydrated death in non-biodegradable plastic covering, do not, I believe represent the concept of love. Would you like it if the sturdy Elm gifted the swaying coconut tree some human private parts?”

Fine. No flowers. But before I considered sarees, watches, chocolates, wolf pups, ventriloquist tarantulas and other goods that could be purchased in exchange for the swipe of a plastic card, Inner Narada interrupted thus -

“You are missing the whole point, Ashok. You do not express love by buying stuff. Buying is easy. Essentially, its like saying that you just don’t have the interest and inclination to spend your time doing something special for her, so you just get it done by some one else in exchange for cash”

Ok. I got the hint. I vowed to stop buying things. And that was when Inner Narada took a vacation.

Circa 2005-07

Sketches

The first thing I ever made as a Valentine Day’s gift was a pencil-sketched card that had 2 sparrows in Bollywood-movie-kiss-scene-censored-replacement pose. But at the last moment, I decided to dump it.

But eventually, I felt bolder. More confident. And that was when I attempted a portrait.

Bad Idea.

The first one looked like something that the creators of South Park discarded. The second one, one that I spent many hours on (even used unethical tools like tracing paper etc) came out much better but in the end, didn’t quite look like The Girl.

Music

I then tried writing songs dedicated to The Girl. Wrote the lyrics, sang, played the guitar and sequenced other instruments on Garageband, and gifted a small, miniature CD with an inset containing hand-written lyrics.

But after doing this twice so far, a third attempt feels like Terminator 3. Cliched and jaded.

Circa 2008

Ok. Now my wife is out, presumably shopping for a gift for me, and here I am, still planning what to do. Buying is passe, and I’ve run out of manufacturing talent. Some shady ideas come to mind,

1. I could dedicate a blog post to her

2. I could SuperPoke her on Facebook (But she is not on Facebook)

3. I could create a website, and search-engine-optimize it so that it shows up as the top result for the query “I love (name)”

4. I could post a video of myself professing undying love on youtube and send her the URL.

5. I could flood the social web with “I love her” messages. Twitter status, GTalk status, Orkut status, Facebook status, Email signature, Blog title etc.

Sigh.

One more day. And no good ideas yet.

Crass Word

Why is The Hindu a dutiful child with bright, shiny and healthy teeth?

Because, it mostly copies The Guardian and pastes a lot.

Update: I am informed by James that the amount of copy pasting is not enough to warrant the joke above. So readers be informed that the above exists just for joke’s sake.

Well, not the news items or editorials, which are creditably original and dreadfully dull, but the crossword, which in particular, is rather unoriginal. I fail to understand why we (Indian cryptic crossword buffs i.e.) must continue to be adept at

• British pub terminology
• Scottish Towns and Castle names
• Pommie boy and girl names (all those “Girl and boy with you in the middle becomes a yearly affair” type clues – ANN U AL),
• completely Brit acronyms like MO for doctor (Medical Officer)
• and other anachronistic verbiage.

Don’t we have crossword setters who set their cryptic clues with much more localized context. Imagine the possibilies for subtle and allusive clues with all our diversity.

ps: Readers who are not fans of cryptic crosswords, it’s a little hard to squeeze in a guide in a blog post. But suffice to say that solving a good cryptic is one of life’s great pleasures. Cryptic crosswords stretch one’s brain into interesting shapes and directions as they demand quite a bit of lateral thinking.

For e.g. how would we design a Chennai-centric, contemporary English cryptic crossword for The Hindu? Plis to excuse for the poor quality clues and shady crossword structure for I am not a pro at crosswords. Perhaps she should start doing this.

Click here to see how this would look like in The Hindu

The solution will be posted early next week. Feel free to post answers in the comments section.

Update: Oh well. Looks like Scudie , Praveen and Siddharth have solved pretty much most of it. So here’s the solution, along with the fundaas.

Across

2 Strange matter of GMail failure (5) – GILMA (GMail “failure” (anagram) is strange matter (gilma))
3 Fawn upon the department in charge
of college entrances (4) – DOTE (Dept of Technical Education, “dote” also means “to fawn on”)
6 Auspicious patterns on the floor (5) – KOLAM – straightforward
10 Apostle group show off (5,5) – PETER PARTY (Apostle – Peter, group – Party, showoff = peter party)
12 Gary’s country goes after the water
for general kasamusa activities (5) – JALSA (Gary (Kirsten)’s country – SA, goes after the water (JAL))
13 Invitatn 2 tlk ls, rite mr (4,3) – FREE SMS (Invitation to talk less, write more)
14 Question Tom about insectile barrier (8,3) – MOSQUITO NET (Anagram of “Question Tom”)
18 Aped Senora deliberately and drank
carbonated drink in essence. (6,4) – PANEER SODA (Anagram of Aped Senora)
19 Steamed pancake in horrid lining (4) – IDLI (found “in” horrid lining)
20 Stoical entrant stumbles into a lot
of platforms (7,7) – CENTRAL STATION (Anagram of “stoical entrant”, has a lot of platforms)
21 Paint the town 98410 72571 (1,5,5,4) – P JAMES MAGIC SHOW
22 Amaklamatic Elephant loses illumination (8) – GAJABUJA (Ok. This was a slightly shady one. Elephant – GAJA, loses illumination – BUJA (Hindi) = Gajabuja, which is amaklamatic)

Down

1 Cutting classes to continue to
sleep here, presumably (4) – BUNK
2 Gulf news paper, we hear, is rather dirty (6) – GALEEJ (“sounds like” KHALEEJ, which is a newspaper in the gulf)
3 Divine being crudely hailed for
drink, we hear (5) – DEITY (Crudely hailed – DEI (in tamil) + TEA, we hear, therefore TY)
4 Goodbye. I say no to ridiculously
cheap automobile (4,4) – TATA NANO
5 North Indians say enough to get approval
for ticketless travel (3, 4) – BUS PASS (North Indians say enough – BUS, to get approval – PASS, ticketless travel – bus pass)
7 Where planetary positions are aligned,
union decisions get made. (9,4) – HOROSCOPE MEET
8 It buzzes with complete elevated traffic (7) – FLYOVER
9 Senthil’s “other” fruit (6) – BANANA (reference to the legendary joke)
11 Anglicized Rasam (11,4) – MULLIGTAWNY SOUP
15 Rising Son, or dictator? (6) – STALIN (Reference to DMK’s rising “son” and the russian dictator)
16 Immediately, a betel leaf?
Completely inneffective! (10) – SOONAPAANA (Immediately – SOON, a, Betel leaf? – PAANA?)
17 Sounds like Gallic extraction is
panacea for all ills (6,3) – FRANCH OIL (French – Gallic, sounds like)

Symbolically speaking

When I was a kid, I always wondered what the “Tropicalized” symbol meant on the small Philips cassette player we used to have. My dad explained that it was to indicate that the player was specially designed to withstand tropical conditions. And it made sense. Clearly, from the perspective of the cassette player or any electronic good for that matter, India must feel like the epitome of hell, what with dust storms, water vapour fogs, demoniacal insects and very undutchlike temperatures. But what interests me now is the symbol itself.

The insect and cloud captured the very essence of the word “tropical”. Perhaps a chilly might have sealed things, but I’m not complaining.

But now, after having traveled around the world a little bit more, I’m piqued by how un-Indian international airport symbols really are. Especially the ones designed by AIGA. It is simply yet another case of Americans designing homogenous standards for a heterogenous world.

Take the standard symbol for “Customs”

If that looks like an Indian customs officer to you, you must be from Betelgeuse V and you must be named Ford Ikon. In my opinion, Indian customs officers are best represented by

Although, nowadays, Euros are preferred over dollars.

Now let’s look at the symbol for “Elevator”

Now that’s plain disinformation. To insinuate that Indian elevators will waste precious space (and therefore energy) by just accommodating 3 people is scandalous. Here is what I propose:

And what about the ridiculously inaccurate symbol for “Water”?

Seriously. I am reasonably sure that Indians do not drink water by pressing buttons and letting a random fountain of water wet their faces, shirts and the floor. Our style is more like this:

Perhaps not quite hygienic because us desis will often make labial contact with taps after tucking in Poondu Rasam and Netthili fry. But still, practical, elegant and effective, and ensures 100% transfer of water from tap to mouth.

And what about the symbol for “Fire extinguisher”

Ok. It’s not that bad. I do see a few like that once in a while here, but I would have ideally preferred:

The international symbol for “Litter” is also rather confusing to me.

I mean. They really do mean this, don’t they?

And finally, the symbol for “Restaurant”.

I am sorry. The average Miltry hotel, Kake da Dhaba and Vada Pav stall do not serve food that is designed to be eaten with the gardening implements shown above. But if foreigners do insist on trying to eat Laccha Paratha with knife and fork, I’m ok with that, but not before I propose a slight change to this symbol.