Sometimes ads run where they shouldn't even loiter.
I once was involved in a TV spot that was clearly meant for later viewing (it featured a CEO in a restroom, reading a newspaper) that suddenly aired at 6 p.m. to howls of uproar. We were mortally upset, of course. The media buyer was showered with, um, beer.
Which is why I wonder just what the creators of an ad for Grandin Road, a purveyor of furniture and other domestic items, must have wondered when their ad for happy Halloweeny items became entangled with a Wall Street Journal article about Steve Jobs' return to Apple stage performance.
(Credit:
Wall Street Journal)
You see, the Grandin Road ad features two skeletons. And some perhaps insouciant soul at The Wall Street Journal had decided to place it opposite the Steve Jobs coverage which happened to enjoy a picture of the still very slim Apple uberpresence.
Jobs' health problems have been well-documented, and one might have imagined that someone might have noticed the unfortunate symbiosis of the Jobs picture and the one in the ad.
The chosen picture of Jobs makes it seem as if he is declaiming to the skeletons, offering to sell the bony ones a new iPod or two. In fact, it looks as if the skeleton on the right is somewhat aghast at something Jobs has revealed. The new pricing, perhaps.
It all makes for a peculiar conjuncture of editorial picture choice and ad placement.
My fanciful, hardened heart wonders whether it could have been some enterprising, well-connected PR person's attempt to get the ad talked about. But my left brain is sure this was not the case.
So it's very possible that no one at the Journal noticed. These things do happen, even to the very best. But is it also possible that someone did and thought it, in a fleeting moment of whimsy, somehow amusing?
You know you want to. You've wanted to do it for some time now. No, not tell Pink and Sandra Bullock they have terrible taste in men, but slap a Wall Street ignoramus.
AddictingGames, the site that brought you the ecology sniper game evocatively entitled "Shoot The Bastards," now brings you "Trillion Dollar Bailout."
It's a simple affair. You have a New York skyline, against which various chaps in suits stand, asking for cash. The Stank of Bummera, for example. Or Crysalot Motors. With one slap, you can send them to a dark hole in which, you hope, a hungry Hannibal Lecter awaits with the dining table already laid.
However, this game is not merely about releasing your feelings about the pickle with a slap. No, you can also help those innocent, gullible homeowners who really did believe that they could afford a $500,000 house on a $40,000 salary.
Beneath the Wall Street skyline is a row of houses, not unlike those you see along your cab route from JFK into the city. From these houses emerge ordinary folks who are asking for a mere fraction of the amount begged for by, for example, Sitty Group or the charmingly named RNC Financial. With one click on the moneybag icon, you can deliver them salvation.
However, because this game stems from a sense of change you can believe in, you can give these people a backhander of the more physical kind. The kind that burns like cystitis and says: "What were you thinking, BlagoBrain?"
I am touched that the people at AddictingGames.com have bothered to understand that, when it comes to video games, there are certain kinds of violence that can only enhance societal well-being.
I have also heard rumors, as yet unsubstantiated, that the company intends to produce a new game in which you can slap a Facebook lawyer.
"Steve Jobs is not dying! That means I can still make some money out of his ass!"
Jerque Rathbone, 10 years in Wall Street and perhaps another 10 in emotional years, expressed his feelings a little louder than a normal person might have.
Mike Johnson, Jerque's lunch companion, knew how to handle situations like this. A web designer fallen on penal times, Mike had once known the good side of Jerque and these days he pretended it was still there.
"But Jerque," he said, "isn't that a little, um, harsh? I mean the guy's a human being. Don't you feel bad about squeezing the last dollar out of a sick man?"
"Feel bad?! Feel bad?! You kidding me?!" said Jerque with a shriek that threatened the wine glasses. "Apple lied through their teeth about his health! What was it they said?! He had a bug?! Bug, my ass! Jobs had to tell the truth in the end because Wall Street made him!"
"So you think Apple is nothing without Steve Jobs?" asked Mike, as innocently as he could muster.
"Apple is Steve Jobs! Steve Jobs is Apple! He's the whole damn Granny Smith! He goes down, it all goes down!" decibeled Jerque.
"Because you'll decide Apple stock will be worth less?" asked Mike.
"Worthless! You bet! I'll buy IBM, HUD, whatever the hell three-letter friggin' companies are out there!" declared Jerque, as if he was suddenly making a speech to undecided voters.
(Credit:
CC Mr. Bill)
"Hold on, let me see if I understand this. He announced he's not dying and the Apple share price goes up. But by doing that, what you're really telling the world is that you don't think he has anyone in place to take over from him. It's a negative statement. How do you know he has no succession in place?" said Mike.
"Because if Wall Street hasn't been told, it doesn't exist!" explained Jerque, his face contorting in something that strangely resembled pain. "You tell Wall Street what's going on and Wall Street makes its bets on what you say! On a daily basis! On an hourly basis! That's how it works! We don't take real risks! We take calculated risks!"
"Calculated on the basis of what?" wondered a confused Mike.
"Of knowing everything that's happening, so that we can be sure we'll make money! This guy is so self-obsessed, I bet he thinks he's gonna live forever!" wailed Jerque.
"So he has no right to keep his illness secret? I mean, it's not as if his performance is slipping all that much, is it?"
"He has no right to catch a cold without Wall Street knowing about it! Who does he think he works for?!" hissed Jerque, still loudly.
"But when you had the inside of your nose replaced with that new plastic gizmo, did you tell your bosses? Or your clients?" asked Mike, hanging on to his innocent tone like a child gripping his last cookie.
"None of their damn business! I'm not a CEO of a public company! I'm just a guy trying to make a living in a world populated by cheats and liars!"
"So do you hold out any hope for Apple without Steve Jobs?" asked Mike.
"I didn't until this morning! Did you see the footage from Macworld?! The guy standing in for Jobs! What's his name, Diller?!"
"Schiller."
"Yeah, right! I think he might be a good bet!" chirped Jerque.
"Yeah?" said a surprised Mike.
"Yeah! That guy's carrying at least 25 pounds over! No way he's got some hormone imbalance! We'll need to know his cholesterol numbers, though!"
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