There's no doubt that the development of quality package design and advertising creative requires artistic sensibilities. The extensive support of artists by advertising mogul Charles Saatchi is certainly an indication of this ad/art convergence. And hey, I'd be the last person to claim that one creative form is more artistic than another. However, it's people like Koons and his unwarranted rise to fame who have contributed to my utter dismay and disillusionment with the art world. To see unknown, innovative artists shunned, be they comic creators, filmmakers or human beat box pros, in lieu of talent-free, commercial half-wits, is depressing at best.

That's why my vote for artist of the year goes to the creator of that cool talking/singing Big Mouth Billy Bass that's been plaguing the ads on late night TV.

Takin' the Piss Out of Pokemon
Hasbro Marketing Hacks Stoop to New Lows

Wigglytuff (#40) has graduated magna cum laude from Hasbro University with a master's degree in Mind Molding. Wiggly's pal Geodude (#74) completed its double majors at Hasbro U. with honors, earning bachelor's degrees in Addiction Inducing and Kid Commercializing. Most fitting, Pikachu (#25) has been awarded an honorary "Doctor of Pokemon" degree, but will remain "in the toy line-up indefinitely," as reported by Zentertainment.com on June 23. Yes, the first original series Pokemon Graduation of 25 characters was a solemn and inspirational ceremony.

With a gleam in his eye and a bulge in his wallet, commencement speaker and Hasbro marketing VP, Perry Drosos appealed to all false-god-fearing youth from across the globe in his bold call to action: "Kids love to collect Pokemon toys and now it's up to these young fans to catch 'em all, and complete their collections before the original series of characters is gone."

Perhaps it's a challenge that only a truly sheep-like, Shaolin munchkin could master, but you've got to commend Drosos for his confidence that today's "catch 'em all" kids will do the right thing.

The Pokemon website urges mini magister money-tossers to "Hurry" and "complete [their] collection[s] while [they] can!" It's a good thing Hasbro has warned naive young'uns all of our impending "Pollwhirl," "Psyduck" and "Pollwrath"-less doom! The kind spirited company has also made an effort to remind concerned collectors to check its website on July 31 for a glimpse at the next graduating class.

Will Pikachu (#25) pass its final courses in Child Psychology in time to don the cap 'n' gown in the next ceremony? Perhaps it will someday...as soon as its sales begin to dwindle, that is.

(For more Pokemon-poking banter, check out Kate's coverage as featured on ChannelSeven.com. Scroll down to "My Temple Should Be a House of -- (Pokemon) Cards! Pokemon-Pushing Pope.")

The Jolly Green Giant Doesn't Wear Drawers
Licensed Characters Are a Special Breed

I may lack in the muscle-tone department and have stubs for hands, but when you get a whiff of my homemade biscuits, you'll agree: I can bake like a fly under a magnifying glass!

Perhaps the Pillsbury Dougboy's resume cover letter would start something like this. As noted in the June 19 Advertising Age print edition story, "Licensed to thrive," the pleasantly plump spokes-blob, a.k.a. "Poppin' Fresh, as he's affectionately called, is a cheerful, darling, responsive, but non-aggressive character....[who] has created a family-oriented, wholesome brand image for Pillsbury."

Capitalizing on his popularity is a mouth-watering prospect; however, advertisers dealing with licensed character promotions bode branding burns if marketers disregard their primary mission.

"Diluting the equity of your brand is always a risk," warns Leigh Ann Schwarzkopf, manager of corporate licensing for General Mills.

Yet, advertisers spend truckloads of dough to etch these brand-enhancing figures and expressions in our heads. The article mentions that an estimated $200 million was spent to meld the dead-pan Taco Bell Chihuahua onto the minds of the masses. Those obnoxiously ever-present Anheuser-Busch "Whassup?" conversationalists and their heavily-accented amphibian cohorts have annoyed their ways into American pop-culture at a hefty price of $137 million thus far. And we can't forget the Pets.com sock puppet. He's cost approximately $19 million to date. And that's for one sock! It sounds like another NASA scam to me.

Businesses spend money to make money, though. The unfortunate fact is that many of the ad agencies that have created these indelible icons have yet to receive their due licensing pay. Goodby, Silverstein & Partners has been left out of the profit pool for "Got Milk?" licensing. Plus, TBWA/Chiat/Day, an agency that has developed work for Taco Bell and Pets.com, has attempted to cash in on the lucrative licensing agreements by anticipating "potential licensable campaigns and build[ing] a cut of the revenue into the agency's contract...."

You've got to feel for these unacknowledged creative geniuses. Although, normally, I refuse to get involved in this type of thing all together. Rather than purchase logo-enhanced products like Nike T-shirts, Volkswagen Ball Caps and stuffed Spuds dolls, the way I see it, companies ought to pay me to wear their ads, damn it! However, even I couldn't resist the cookie monster "Got Milk?" poster. (Hey I'm a sucker for the symbols of my youth. I've got my smurf collection on display in my kitchen for chrissakes!) I'd better be careful, though. According to the Ad Age story, even a "Got Milk?" CD is planned for the fall. I'll refrain from the "milkin' it for all it's worth"-related comments.

Now, if these advertisers got creative, I might be tempted to actually purchase some more of these useless items. Here's a hint to Anheuser-Busch: Amaze and stun your friends by establishing an affiliate partnership between Louie the Lizard and the Big Mouth Billy Bass.

It's Safe to Buy Pigs Feet Again!
Shopping Basket Surveyors Give Up

Offline shoppers may appreciate tangibility, but, like online shoppers, many don't dig privacy invasion. Grocery stores in the UK and US have listened to the concerns of their customers, and as a result, many have ditched their data tracking loyalty card programs.

As reported in a June 19 Wall Street Journal article, Britain's Safeway PLC has scrapped its loyalty-card program. For one thing, it was "generating far too much information to manage and much of the data wasn't proving to be valuable." According to the story, the loyalty cards, that offer discounts and sales incentives to participating customers, compiled a wide range of data, from buyer identity to "the color of a can of beans." Now, if the contraption could track how many malted milk balls a customer grabs from the bulk section in one visit, it might be worth something.

"Very few retailers ever allow the intelligence derived from the data to be significant factor in a marketing campaign," comments Gartner Group research director Andy Kyte in the WSJ piece. Despite this, the story mentions that 71% of large food retailers have loyalty programs, according to a Food Marketing Institute study.

Safeway could save 50 million quid by discontinuing the use of its discount cards; that's about $75 million. However, some UK stores continue to cling to their big-brother ways. Before they are able to shop at its website, customers of Tesco PLC are required to sign on to a loyalty program. What's in it for them? Well, by using their handy cards, shoppers can access a list of the contents of their last three online or offline shopping baskets. Also, in conjunction with software developed by British company Autonomy, Tesco plans to develop shopping assistants for its site.

Hey, like any other city-dweller who grew up in the suburbs, I pine away for the sprawling aisles of the harshly-lighted Tops International on Niagara Falls Boulevard. I admit: After reading this article, I've grown increasingly fond of my Jersey City neighborhood's West Indian bodega, its Korean owners, and its Mexican staff.

She's Cuckoo for Contests!
Data Whore Takes Her Business Online

Her turn ons: Bayberry-scented wizard candles, trips to the farmer's market, lotto scratch-off games and allusions to The Celestine Prophecy. Her turn offs: Mean people, SUVs, sexual innuendo and not winning lotto scratch-off games.

She's a 41-year-old online contest addict who was sick and tired of getting spam and divulging personal information in return for contest entries. The delusional law firm manager literally spent about an hour and a half each day willingly submitting data such as her shampoo of choice and her SAT scores to hungry marketers.

"[W]hy should we just give away the information?" she wondered.

Yet, rather than curb her indulgent appetite for time-gouging, fruitless web sweepstakes, the prize-obsessed psycho did what any self-respecting 21st century American capitalist would do. Tracy Coyle built a website through which she'd auction off her personal data and that of other willing parties. In other words, she decided to do the same damn thing she'd been griping about in the first place.

As reported in the June 21 Financial Times story, interested marketers can visit Coyle's site, Profile Quest 3, and "with a minimum bid of [$20]; the top 250 bidders will each get a copy of Coyle's completed questionnaire, with answers to almost 1,400 questions.

"We are working to create a site that allows you to answer questions about 350+ activities," notes the Profile Quest 3 site. "Each activity will have a sponsor and advertisers that sell products or services related to that activity." Participants will be able to select which advertisers will have access to the information provided.

This page is entitled ironically, "Are you ready for tomorrow?" Providing data to advertisers on an opt-in basis -- now that's an innovative concept!

In her site's mention of her appearance on Minnesota Public Radio's "Future Tense," the grammarian writes, "tho I am not sure why they called me, he....!" It's poorly expressed comments like these, in addition to this lonely woman's gullibility and dreams of trips for two to a Sandals Resort, that should tip off any intelligent marketer to the fact that this woman is anything but normal.

Wait a minute. I take that back. Tracy Coyle is a slightly batty 41-year old female from Wisconsin with a penchant for entering sweepstakes she'll never win. My God! She could very well serve as a model for at least 50% of America's middle-aged women! Somebody, buy this chick a wizard candle!

Ad Bash

This is an exceptional ad. There's just one problem: Clearly the audience has been misinterpreted. Since when do breast augmentation clients think?