The scanner alert sounded. The threshold had been reached and the Critical Buzz (™) system kicked in. She remembered Weegee the 1930s “ambulance chasing” photographer waiting by his police radio scanner, ready to pounce on a story. She pulled up the screen and the system mapped the possible positions on the news story and gave her the raw copy and visuals to work with, coded helpfully by Critical Buzz (™) according to her brand’s values. She thought of Weegee developing the pictures in the darkroom in the boot of his car while his rivals slept. She was a buzz chaser.
Dispatch from an advertising future #58
https://www.theverge.com/2020/5/22/21266251/nvidia-ai-gamegan-recreate-pac-man-virutal-environment
Some of my colleagues get the cool gig: Cannes, watching hours of case studies, reading entries. They don’t have a glass of rosé, but they do get to hang with the creatives and then pitch their ideas. Even my colleagues in the studio get to show off. They watch and listen to the teams and then after a while, they’re invited to pitch. Me, I get to sit in accounts, reading Gantt charts, budget lines, listening to calls to the production house, being asked about processes. Being an AI has never been less sexy. Me, I’m just a machine learning.
Dispatch from an advertising future #33
The age of mass electric motoring is here. But is the world ready?
The upgrade had been worth it. That throaty roar of a V8 reminded him of Top Gear in its heyday. But he missed other things: the petrol station shop. He missed the snacks and cans of Red Bull; the chamois leathers; the DVD rack; the scented animals you could hang from the mirror; the wilting bouquets of flowers. He missed the Christmas Eve rush of finding presents, exchanging knowing looks with other men who’d forgotten what time ‘real’ shops closed. He looked at the Amazon Gas panel. “It’ll be home before you are” scrolling across. No it wasn’t the same.
The upgrade had been worth it. That throaty roar of the V8 made all the difference. He was old enough enough to remember when ‘petrolhead’ wasn’t just something in the Urban Dictionary. He remembered Top Hear in its heyday. He’d floored the pedal in his first real car and listened as the rasping exhaust drowned out his playlist. He was happy to admit he’d dropped down a gear or two just to hear his car sing. So when he’d been forced to go electric he’d been happy to pay extra for the plug-in sound effects.
But there were other thing he missed. As he plugged it in (he couldn’t bear to give it a gender or a personality. It wasn’t a real car) he missed the smell of the petrol station but also the shop. He missed the snacks and the cheap chamois leathers. He missed the DVD rack and the over-priced milk shakes. He missed the cans of red bull. He missed the choice of scented animals you could hang from the mirror. He missed the wilting bouquets of flowers and random household goods. He even missed the queue of other drivers. He missed being able to guess what car they drove or whose birthday they’d forgotten. He missed the Christmas Eve rush of finding presents, exchanging knowing looks with other men who’d forgotten what time ‘real’ shops closed.
He looked at the Amazon Now Station panel. “It’ll be home before you are” scrolling across. No it wasn’t the same.
Dispatch from an advertising future #57
“Mr Smith, of course, let me put you through…”
“John, good to hear from you… It’s going well, very well… Research is showing that the idea will get real cut-through… Latest figures? Of course I’ll send them through… Let me put you onto creative…”
“John, good to hear from you… It’s going well, very well… How is the new blue working for you?… Softer? Of course, I’ll get the guys on that… Let me put you through to media…”
“John, good to hear from you… It’s going well, very well… It’s going well, very well… It’s going well, very well…”
Dispatch from an advertising future #56
Her dog backed away, ran back to the bench. It followed, bounding in an ‘uncanny valley” sort of way. The “stay alert” jingle at a pitch designed to gently annoy. She put the lid back on her coffee and stood to leave. The panel on the creature’s side lit up, first the familiar blue and white letters, NHS, then the Real Purpose Reel (™). “We’re backing our boys… and girls in blue. Buy one and we’ll deliver them a royale thanks,” said the animated burger. She muttered something about fat and salt as she left. The jingle drowned it out.
Dispatch from an advertising future #55
https://www.thedrum.com/news/2020/05/04/esports-prepared-the-coming-influx-freed-up-marketing-spend
Home schooling had been going a lot better since the move to vocational. There was no doubt Chris was putting the hours in. Networked with her group she threw herself into every session.
The Academy watched as Chris’ results were updated. Its ‘brand partner’ would be delighted. Chris’ class was on track for great results in The League. The Careers Agency was already opening discussions for Chris (and The Academy of course). The brand partner had the prime rights of course but there was plenty of Chris to go around.
Chris’ hero fell. She rebooted and started the lesson again.