Aperçus of Media and Marketing

Into the Ground like a Salt Pellet

Ethan Switch - Tuesday, 29 April, 2003 - 08:35:52 - print it raw

In broadcast journalism, the power of the metaphor is strengthened if and when it mutates into the visual breed. With the amount of stock footage available to the evening news programs one metaphor will invariably find itself stretched over into other items.

One recent highlight was that of the presentation of the report of a convicted rapist sent to fourteen years gaol. Identified only as 'A.N.' a camera was fixed onto his blurred image as he ran from the Downing Centre Court in Sydney. As he made his way down to the underground train station the reporter recounted some of the incidents that led to his conviction. One such account involved that of a girl hounded on a train who, on fighting back, a knife was put up against her throat and the leader demanded sex. Fortunately for her, she managed to escape at the next station.

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Narcotics Shootin' and Scorin' off of Junkies

Ethan Switch - Tuesday, 22 April, 2003 - 08:03:12 - print it raw

Shivering and shaking, the natural state of a junkie going on hours, even minutes without a hit. Paranoia and desperation, keys to the kingdom of madness and eternal scratching. The scratching is endless. That and the cold. Pay no mind to the cold. The cold bears itself.

Every now and then a simple advertisement pops up to hold onto a corner of a publication such as a free street mag or the columned section of a newspaper. In these little calls for the wild, they offer the small and enticing sum of a mere $40—or thereabouts—in exchange for the thoughts and reactions of those with a finer eye for veins than rookie med students.

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Iraq the Party That Rocks the Body

Ethan Switch - Friday, 28 March, 2003 - 04:13:13 - print it raw

On a good day the news is quick and quirky. But there hasn't been a good day for news in the past week, more even. In the worst case scenario—as has become evident—it lasts hours on end, repeats endlessly rewording the slightest of prepulp information and contains the hard work of graphic designers and logo manipulators. Glory be had for those being had are the populace denied the normal course of entertainment that fulfills their dreary and meaningless lives.

Not content to commercialize the events into coffee mug catchphrases such as TARGET:IRAQ™, AT WAR WITH IRAQ™ and THE PRESIDENT'S BITCH™, the movement of the coalition troops are represented by models and graphics that would make hard core gamers of real-time strategy cringe. Indeed, the least that they have done is make the war more palatable for the breakfast, lunch and dinner time troughs. The casualties of war should not go to waste, such games as Resident Evil can never know enough realism.

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Blame It All On The Name Game Boogie

Ethan Switch - Tuesday, 18 February, 2003 - 09:20:22 - print it raw

Identity is everything. Especially when the door gets kicked down and a search warrant gets nailed to the door and they haul away all those building blueprints and material laced in either gunpowder or a mysterious compound. Such is the life of those on the run and hiding out half of the day secluded in bunkers with copious amounts of Turkey Spam.

But not everyone who needs to protect their identity smell of deceit and/or overbearing corn beef.

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Slimming the Shady Shadows of the Sea

Ethan Switch - Saturday, 1 February, 2003 - 04:13:13 - print it raw

Following in the fine tradition outlined in movies, the producers of Channel Ten News have produced a follow-up to a news story they had a hand in dealing with the day prior.

On any other day a simple fence post would hold back the suicidal tendencies of wanderers lost after a heavy night of intoxication in tribute to gonzo journalism. But on Coogee beach, somewhere along the coast of New South Wales, the drunken and blurry gazes of the locals have conjured the image of the Mother Mary from the shadows and wood that would keep them away from the jagged rocks below.

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