TriumphAnt

From the Department of “Are You Really Sure Nobody in Marketing Saw This Coming?”:

Recently, in very short order, (i) Telus mobile phone service announced they were making pornography (which they called “adult content”) available for download via their service; (ii) Telus received a shitstorm (which they called “several”) of critical comments, including a blistering notice from Vancouver Catholic Archbishop Raymond Roussin that he was considering the cancellation of all Telus contracts in the Archdiocese; (iii) Telus announced publicly that they “took the feedback to heart” (which likely originated in one of their off-the-record meetings as, “Goodgawd, what the hell were we thinking??!!”) and effective February 21, were immediately canceling the service. But to give you an idea of why “Telus” and “effective marketing” are about as close together as Earth and Pluto, here how’s an anonymous (and no bloody wonder!) company flack rationalized their having made the decision in the first place:

“Telus initially justified the service by saying that it was only offering what is now universally available.” (from the Globe and Mail online, 21 February)

Now there’s a crackerjack business plan isn’t it?: “Find me something that absolutely everybody else is doing and let’s do it too!” Innovation? That’s for all those losers out there who are always searching for a better, more efficient, more cost-effective method of delivering their products. Telus’ motto: Chances are we’ll be seeing you later, because we will only go where you already are!

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Irony watch.

For me, perhaps second only to doing cryptic crossword puzzles, seeking out (or not even looking for them, because they seem to keep falling into my lap) hilarious new samples of irony is one of my favourite pastimes.

Here’s one that, like a simple fillet of flash-grilled swordfish, needs no garnish whatsoever to be especially delicious. It comes from the US Food and Drug Administration (USFDA) who issued a news release on February 16 with this as its first two sentences:

“The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) is warning consumers not to use certain jars of Earth’s Best Organic 2 Apple Peach Barley Wholesome Breakfast baby food because of the risk of contamination with Clostridium botulinum, a bacterium which can cause botulism, a life-threatening illness or death. Consumers are warned not to use the product even if it does not look or smell spoiled.”

You just don’t expect “Earth’s Best Organic… Wholesome…” anything to kill you, know what I’m saying? Unless perhaps a case of it falls from a high shelf onto your skull.

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As regular readers know all too well, I have no hesitation passing along notes about a book, movie or bit of music I’ve enjoyed. Well, there’s no reason it should always be a positive recommendation. So in that spirit, the following is a public service. I mean, just because we three in our house spent three hours that we’re never going to get back in front of a two-part made-for-TV movie is no reason why you should have to. Unless it’s already too late, of course.

First, this brief background. A couple months ago, offspring wrote a school essay on the subject of Jules Verne. So I thought it would be fun to rent a copy of a movie I had first seen long ago that was based on a Jules Verne novel, “Mysterious Island”.

And that movie – the 1961 edition, that is – actually still stands up very well. At the present time, movie special effects are exclusively the product of computerized animation, and some of them are superb – Peter Jackson’s entire "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, for example, is a truly astonishing production. That first “Mysterious Island”, however, was given its special effects by the incomparable Ray Harryhausen, an absolute master of the laborious single-frame animation process that requires 24 separate images to produce a single second of motion onscreen.

But “MI”’s 2005 remake is an appalling waste of the plastic required to make copies available for public rent. All I can say is that halfway through, we became aware of a heavily motorized sound that we concluded had to be Jules Verne whirling in his grave! This cheesy remake of the vastly superior original made over 40 years ago is an embarrassing waste of Patrick ("Star Trek: The Next Generation"’s Jean-Luc Picard) Stewart, who pretty well mails in his performance as Captain Nemo.

Among the early special effects is a giant rat that "runs" away with a wholly unconvincing motion that looks exactly like a windblown Macy's parade balloon. Later, there’s a sequence in which repeated views are shown of a placid tropical mountain that, apparently, character dialogue alone is supposed to convince us is an erupting volcano, because onscreen there isn’t so much of a wisp of smoke rising from it. At the very start of the movie, the main characters escape a Union Army prisoner-of-war camp during the US Civil War in a hot air balloon whose flight path defies the laws of physics. And throughout, there are several recurring appearances of a band of pirates who are possessed of (a) the best teeth I’ve ever seen in a gang of mid-19thC cutthroats; and (b) a leader who appears to have convinced the movie’s make-up department that researchers seeking the authentic pirate look need look no farther than any Steve Tyler and Aerosmith album cover that features a shot of the band. This one, for example.

At three hours, this thing is at least twice as long as it needs to be and is, not to put too fine a point on it, a viewing experience so bad that it almost, but not quite, makes the transition into the realm of movies that inspire awe on the basis of the sheer breadth and depth of their big-budget badness. In other words, skip this gobbler and grab its 40-year old parent with animation by Ray Harryhausen that still stands up as superb family entertainment!

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My bug o’ the week this week is something I’ve had on the back burner for some time, but have only recently started to notice just how widespread it’s becoming: the number of places a “Tips” cup is now turning up. In recent days, I’ve seen one placed beside the cash register at a local newsstand, at just about every fast food take-out in the office complex food court where I work, and at most convenience stores in the NCR (that’d be the National Capital Region for those who don’t live and breathe acronyms to the same volume as those of us employed by the GoC [Government of Canada].)

Especially in the NCR.

I have no problem with the “Leave a Penny / Take a Penny” trays in stores that move a lot of low-priced merchandise such as newspapers, candy bars, soft drinks and the like. In fact, I suspect cashiers appreciate a customer’s occasionally snaffling a penny or two in order to satisfy a sale of $3.01, rather than have to issue $0.24 from their not-usually-too-full change drawer. And I do regularly toss my own rogue pennies into those trays at those stores where I shop most frequently.

But when did that concept become the “Tips” cup? – In this part of the country, that usually means a styrofoam cup on which someone has drawn a hopeful smiley face and (another real world example in my workplace) “Pour notre retraite” – For our retirement. And why in heaven’s name should I even be asked to consider tipping a cashier for a process that involves nothing more on his or her part than ringing up the sale and taking my money?

A tip, to me, is something I pay automatically in most restaurants when the meal service has involved all the little things not normally itemized on the bill – refilling my water glass, delivering a basket of rolls, menu advice and clarification, the timely removal of dirty plates and glasses, the equally timely delivery of each course if the dinner includes an appetizer and / or a dessert, and even for the intangibles such as the general overall pleasantness of the person or persons providing that service.

But beyond that, a tip is also something I will weigh to reflect either a good or bad variation on the standard* amount – which around here is typically reckoned at about 15 per cent. I have just as often tipped more as I have less – often “considerably” in either direction if the service was especially good or especially bad. I will also occasionally ask if the tip is specific only to the people with whom I’ve interacted, or is to go into a pool that is also shared with the kitchen staff. It might seem a bit anal, but this can have a bearing on how much I tip if, for example, the food has been excellent but the table server downright surly, or if a pleasant tableside manner was crushed by the delivery of mediocre off-temperature food.

* I've also participated in not inconsiderable debates about the concept of a “standard” tip. Who, for example, decided that 15 per cent is a normal amount to tip? Some Canadians in particular have a peculiar habit of “rewarding” lacklustre service and bad food with no more than the 15 per cent tip. (That’ll show ‘em!) But I long ago conceded the battle of the “standard” tip. For me, the tip amount figuring at the end of a restaurant meal begins at that percentage. I have no idea why.

But to tip for “service” that is in fact the simple act of fulfilling the straightforward mechanics of one’s job – pushing cash register buttons and placing what I purchase in a bag, for example? I think not. Now some might argue, “Oh, but those people are not paid very much so the ‘tip’ is to help them supplement their income.” Well, without apology, my opinion on that is that this is an issue for the underpaid staff to take up with their employer, not devolve onto their customers.

In my job, I occasionally receive word that a report I prepared was much appreciated and well received. That feedback has never come back to me with a five-dollar bill. But every two weeks I do get a printout advising me that my bi-monthly salary deposit has made its way into my bank account. You’re welcome.

And do you tip when you go to the take-out counter or the drive-by window of a fast-food place? I don’t. Again, it has to do with the service. When I phone an order in to a restaurant and go pick it up myself, I’ve performed 99 per cent of the “service” myself. Oh sure, the restaurant staff has prepared and cooked the food in the kitchen, but the actual interaction and “service” aspect has been strictly the act of transferring the order from the kitchen to the pick-up counter. And again, if the expectation is that my “tip” is essential to help bolster the income of an underpaid staff, then that place of business has a problem that has to be solved somewhere other than the exchange between me and the cashier.

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A passing thought for poor Jim Balsillie, the Chairman of Research in Motion (RIM) Technologies, the corporate umbrella under which the Blackberry is produced. News o’ the day on March 5 reported that he stepped down as chairman when “a two hundred and fifty million dollar accounting error” turned up in their latest financial report.

A quarter-of-a-billion dollar “accounting error” ????? (Repeat as often as required for this to sink in, increasing the volume of each incredulous shout until either a co-worker or family member tells you to shut the heck up – depending on whether you’re at work or home.)

It really is a different world in the rarefied atmosphere of the dot-com gazillionaires.

An accounting error.

250 MILLION dollars. (!)

Why in heaven’s name is it not the president of his accounting division who is resigning?

Given that the most serious repercussion appears to be that this idiot gets to start his retirement earlier than the rest of us, I guess (a) calling him an “idiot” is way off the mark, and (b) even this old adage no longer holds:

If you owe the bank fifty thousand dollars and you can’t pay, you’re in trouble;
If you owe the bank fifty million dollars and you can’t pay, the bank is in trouble;
If you owe the bank fifty billion dollars and you can’t pay, the country is in trouble.

Instead, for the New Millennium, I give you:

If you owe the bank fifty dollars and you can’t pay, you are in BIG trouble, deadbeat!
If you owe the bank fifty thousand dollars and you can’t pay, the bank is your new landlord;
If you owe the bank fifty million dollars and you can’t pay, the bank may cut back on your monthly credit limit;
If you owe the bank fifty billion dollars and you can’t pay, the daily newspaper in which you read about your “troubles” will be delivered to you personally by a Turks and Caicos beach attendant driving a golf cart right up to your palm-shaded beachside lounge chair.

Until next time (and I don't digress!)…