A modest proposal
The New Philanthropy
Human beings adapt very quickly to increased wealth. Research shows that even after the life-changing windfall of a lottery win, people are no happier one year later than they were before. The fact is that, once you have covered life’s essentials, your well-being remains static. Money really doesn’t buy you happiness.
This is because we instinctively compare ourselves to others, and there’s always someone always wealthier than you: once you’ve caught up with the Joneses, there’s the Smiths, the Changs and the Abramovichs. Someone always has a bigger boat.
In fact, as vast swathes of psychological research show, there is only one proven way to increase your happiness and that is giving. Giving makes you healthier both mentally and physically; givers live longer.
Smart wealthy people like Bill Gates and Warren Buffett know this, but they are also looking beyond the here and now. They are ensuring their legacy.
Since the dawn of the industrial revolution, there have always been wealthy philanthropists, but the nature of giving has changed recently. The current generation of givers are ensuring their place in history in very different ways to the likes of Ford, Getty, Rockefeller and Carnegie. We call this the New Philanthropy.
The New Philanthropy is not about ego, monuments or statues; it’s about discreet social welfare initiatives and social change.
It’s not about charity fund-raising gala dinners, it’s not renaming a local university, or a hospital wing, and it’s not because of tax or legal incentives; it’s about grand global life-saving initiatives.
New Philanthropists are just as likely to be born in India, Russia, China or Brazil as they are in the West. They use their innate ingenuity to create new ways of giving like microfinance, they exploit their tech-savvy to capitalise on the internet and their drive and business skills mean they often run their foundations themselves.
New Philanthropists are personally invested, they don’t just donate.
They are modern internationalists from all corners of the globe, they are open-minded entrepreneurs, they are trying to unlock the world’s potential and they’d like our help.
So don't be like the bank that (indirectly) pay one of our wages. Enable these people. Make the world a better place. 16:21:00 by Jack Rosevear and Will Phipps Delete
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Sunday, May 16, 2010
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Friday, April 03, 2009
Horne and Corden.
The Emperor's New Clothes.
Naked Communications.
What do all three have in common I hear you ask?
Well, their day is done. Focusing on the comedy side of this posting we at H&G have long been gnashing our teeth that the pleasing whimsy of Gavin and Stacy has slowly been poisoned by the rise and rise of the two self proclaimed stars of it. And self proclaimed really is the reason why we and slowly the rest of the world has a problem.
You see, doing a robot dance and adding the suffix 'ar' to someones name may be lightly smile inducing once. And ignored thereafter. But it doth not a great comedian make.
Herein lies the problem.
Both of them think they are at the top of their game. A challenge to the greats and even, dare they say it, as good as Morecombe and Wise (they actually inferred this in a recent press article).
But anyone who witnessed the hideous car crash that was their Brits presentation knew at that moment that without Bryn, and Stacy and all the other marvelous cast, they were just one thing.
Tedious.
The Guardian when reviewing their recent live performance commented
'As my will to live fizzled away, I wondered: how has it come to this?'
Quite.
Friday, March 20, 2009
It's not often that we at H&G reprint old material. But sometimes it's worth an exception when reading a hidden gem. Remember GIGLI, the ill fated conjunction of Lopez and Affleck?
Then read with enjoyment this classic review by Empire magazine.
Gigli : Plot
Two low-level mob ops kidnap a mentally challenged youth who has something to do with a court case. One of them is a New Age lesbian; the other a young buck who thinks he can 'cure' her of that.
Two low-level mob ops kidnap a mentally challenged youth who has something to do with a court case. One of them is a New Age lesbian; the other a young buck who thinks he can 'cure' her of that.
Review
When faced with a movie that has no redeeming qualities whatsoever, certain questions are bound to arise. The most pertinent among them is not 'why?', but 'how?' The reason why this film got made is because, on paper at least, casting two hot Hollywood stars in a romantic comedy makes sound commercial sense. 'How' is a little more tricky.How, for instance, throughout what was presumably a fairly standard production schedule - the impression that it was conceived, written, produced, shot, edited and marketed over a weekend is, perhaps, deceptive - did no-one notice that not a single element of it achieved a basic professional standard?How, given the practice of screening dailies, was it not immediately apparent that Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez have such a catastrophic lack of screen chemistry that they appear to be from entirely different species?How, in the long months from pitch meeting to premiere, did it escape detection that the script, if such a thing ever existed, was written by a gibbon? That Stevie Wonder was doing the lighting? That the camera was threaded with scrunched-up Izal toilet paper? That the editor had recently lost both hands in an industrial accident? That the director was absent from the set during the entire shoot? That the soundtrack had seeped in from a Saga-produced documentary on cruising the Norfolk Broads? That the best way to capitalize on Lopez's Latino bombshell image was probably not by casting her as a nouveau hippy lesbian? That even one shot of Ben Affleck's hairy, sweaty armpit is grounds for pulling the plug on anything? That deploying a mentally-challenged character for comic effect is unspeakably offensive?How, basically, did this film ever get a release? Which is not to say how did it get a nationwide US release in over 3,000 theatres? But how did it get a release in any media format whatsoever? Beyond what we know of rampant narcissism and naked opportunism, it will remain a mystery.
When faced with a movie that has no redeeming qualities whatsoever, certain questions are bound to arise. The most pertinent among them is not 'why?', but 'how?' The reason why this film got made is because, on paper at least, casting two hot Hollywood stars in a romantic comedy makes sound commercial sense. 'How' is a little more tricky.How, for instance, throughout what was presumably a fairly standard production schedule - the impression that it was conceived, written, produced, shot, edited and marketed over a weekend is, perhaps, deceptive - did no-one notice that not a single element of it achieved a basic professional standard?How, given the practice of screening dailies, was it not immediately apparent that Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez have such a catastrophic lack of screen chemistry that they appear to be from entirely different species?How, in the long months from pitch meeting to premiere, did it escape detection that the script, if such a thing ever existed, was written by a gibbon? That Stevie Wonder was doing the lighting? That the camera was threaded with scrunched-up Izal toilet paper? That the editor had recently lost both hands in an industrial accident? That the director was absent from the set during the entire shoot? That the soundtrack had seeped in from a Saga-produced documentary on cruising the Norfolk Broads? That the best way to capitalize on Lopez's Latino bombshell image was probably not by casting her as a nouveau hippy lesbian? That even one shot of Ben Affleck's hairy, sweaty armpit is grounds for pulling the plug on anything? That deploying a mentally-challenged character for comic effect is unspeakably offensive?How, basically, did this film ever get a release? Which is not to say how did it get a nationwide US release in over 3,000 theatres? But how did it get a release in any media format whatsoever? Beyond what we know of rampant narcissism and naked opportunism, it will remain a mystery.
Verdict
Torture. Impossible to imagine how it could've been worse. Lopez's monologue on why the vagina is more sexually alluring than the penis is the most excruciating moment in the history of motion pictures.Reviewer: Simon Braund
Torture. Impossible to imagine how it could've been worse. Lopez's monologue on why the vagina is more sexually alluring than the penis is the most excruciating moment in the history of motion pictures.Reviewer: Simon Braund
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Monday, February 09, 2009
An open letter to Danny Wallace after the creation of the film 'Yes Man', posted to Dannys site.
Danny, I have only ever walked out of two films....and am afraid that Yes man is one of them. How could you have allowed it to happen ? A terrible awful monstrosity of a film that betrayed every single part of your lovingly created book....I sat there with my mouth open with horror next to my girlfriend..both of us aghast about what had happened.....the old lady and the bl*wjob...dear god !!!!!!
So here's two of your fans letting you know that we felt pretty betrayed and hope that if you do let one of your most excellent adventures be used again that you either retain final signoff or have the 'once bitten twice shy' mentality to disown the whole thing. Personally I know at some point a remake will be made and this time it will do your book justice.With affection still....
Just
Danny, I have only ever walked out of two films....and am afraid that Yes man is one of them. How could you have allowed it to happen ? A terrible awful monstrosity of a film that betrayed every single part of your lovingly created book....I sat there with my mouth open with horror next to my girlfriend..both of us aghast about what had happened.....the old lady and the bl*wjob...dear god !!!!!!
So here's two of your fans letting you know that we felt pretty betrayed and hope that if you do let one of your most excellent adventures be used again that you either retain final signoff or have the 'once bitten twice shy' mentality to disown the whole thing. Personally I know at some point a remake will be made and this time it will do your book justice.With affection still....
Just
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
It seems fitting that after a rather long hiatus during January that the first post of the New Year should concern two of our favourite things. Cheese. And Monopoly.
We were rather pleased to see that a new version of Monopoly has been submitted to Hasbro where cheese remains at the forefront of the game. Cottage cheese rightly takes the worst property in the game while Stilton takes the position of best at Mayfair.
But here I suspect ends the joy. What of the Chance cards and Community Chest ? Have they also been redesigned with the same care.
We hope so. It seems only fitting that a player should be rewarded handsomely if he or indeed she had won a cheese making competition.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
The Honest and Genuine fable No 1
The Skeptic and the Cynic:
Once upon a time, a skeptic and a cynic boarded a cruise ship; and as they left port, the opening-night Gala dinner was held. Afterwards, the skeptic took his brandy and cigar with him onto the deck, because he wanted check out the lifeboats.
He noted their position, capacity and fitness-for-purpose.
All of a sudden, he noticed, underneath the top of one of the lifeboats that there was light escaping from beneath the tarpaulin.
Underneath - in a fully inflated life jacket - was the cynic.
And that is the difference between a skeptic and aa cynic.
The Skeptic and the Cynic:
Once upon a time, a skeptic and a cynic boarded a cruise ship; and as they left port, the opening-night Gala dinner was held. Afterwards, the skeptic took his brandy and cigar with him onto the deck, because he wanted check out the lifeboats.
He noted their position, capacity and fitness-for-purpose.
All of a sudden, he noticed, underneath the top of one of the lifeboats that there was light escaping from beneath the tarpaulin.
Underneath - in a fully inflated life jacket - was the cynic.
And that is the difference between a skeptic and aa cynic.
Monday, December 08, 2008
Long, long ago, in an era far far away your genial hosts fulfilled a rather long held fancy - to be published in The Chap Magazine.
The problem was that the final feature was a savigly edited version and for many a month we thought the original was lost.
Until now.
Skimming through a hard drive we've just discovered the original which we very much hope you enjoy.
Mr Coleman’s TALES OF HONEST AND GENUINE SPORTING ENDEAVOUR: part one.
Sporting connoisseurs still speak in hushed tones of the tumultuous contest between noted duellist and gentleman adventurer, Enoch “Soames” Soames and Caswell Cornford, most notorious rake of late-Victorian and Edwardian England. It was the epoch-defining moment in that most gentlemanly of sports, Bar Billiards.
It was a battle between good and evil, self-improvement and self-abasement, their antipathy matched only by their adroitness and tailoring.
Relentless promotion of the feud by the mountebank, Cuthbert Le Fré, had raised the purse to an unimaginable ten guineas, with Soho’s Glasshouse Stores taproom erecting temporary galleries to accommodate the swell of spectators. Amongst the grotesque and sinister masses were Mr HG Wells - whose love of the game was well-known - and his close companions, Mr Bernard Shaw and Mr Elgar. Wells, indeed, cited the sport as one played in his vision of Utopia, entirely as a result of the nervous excitement this particular match gave him.
Their contrasting style of play was mirrored by their preparations. Mr. Soames partaking of many renowned tonics and elixirs, followed by a pioneering treatment to cleanse the body’s humours with Swiss oxygen (pictured, with Mr Le Fré);
Mr. Cornford’s provisions consisting of several large gamebirds, copious quantities of laudanum and a meticulous peregrination of local bordellos.
Once the pre-match exchange of Coats of Arms had taken place and the two gentlemen had posed for the commemorative Toby Jugs fired in their honour, the formalities drew to a close.
The two men barely contained their mutual repugnance at the opening handshake: an audible bark escaped Mr Soames as he identified Mr Cornford’s improperly turned shirt cuff.
Soon Mr Soames was in amongst the balls and scoring freely, prompting the other chap to nervously twirl his silver-topped cane – a gift from the young Nawab of Pataudi. And so the pattern was set: Soames studiously building breaks with sensible shot-making and little fuss; Cornford, cocksure, swaggering, audacious, by turns frustrated and then devastating.
“That is what the crowd pay to see!” sniped Mr Cornford, after potting an outrageous triple-cushion red, gesturing contemptuously at the lithographs placed around the arena celebrating Mr Soames’ endorsement of various pomades, nostrums and Mr Gillette’s new-fangled safety razor.
Mr Soames was ever the gentleman, never failing to doff his hat to his opponent in recognition of the role Lady Luck often plays in the sinking of one’s balls.
As the match meandered sedately to a climax, there was an interruption when several burly factotums had to be called to remove the excitable Mr Wells. His attempts at ‘thought transference’ had caused one of the gin drinking slatterns in the cheap seats to burst into a rendition of the music hall standard, ‘Ballyhooly’ – whose key of E Major was entirely inappropriate for a contest of such import.
With the final ball sunk and victory consummated for ‘Soames’ Soames, the two gladiators relinquished their steely grips on their cues, loosened their cravats and retired to their respective gentleman’s clubs.
It was not the first pitched battle between the two men Shaw later described as “the panjandrum and the popinjay”, and it would not be the last.
Sporting connoisseurs still speak in hushed tones of the tumultuous contest between noted duellist and gentleman adventurer, Enoch “Soames” Soames and Caswell Cornford, most notorious rake of late-Victorian and Edwardian England. It was the epoch-defining moment in that most gentlemanly of sports, Bar Billiards.
It was a battle between good and evil, self-improvement and self-abasement, their antipathy matched only by their adroitness and tailoring.
Relentless promotion of the feud by the mountebank, Cuthbert Le Fré, had raised the purse to an unimaginable ten guineas, with Soho’s Glasshouse Stores taproom erecting temporary galleries to accommodate the swell of spectators. Amongst the grotesque and sinister masses were Mr HG Wells - whose love of the game was well-known - and his close companions, Mr Bernard Shaw and Mr Elgar. Wells, indeed, cited the sport as one played in his vision of Utopia, entirely as a result of the nervous excitement this particular match gave him.
Their contrasting style of play was mirrored by their preparations. Mr. Soames partaking of many renowned tonics and elixirs, followed by a pioneering treatment to cleanse the body’s humours with Swiss oxygen (pictured, with Mr Le Fré);
Mr. Cornford’s provisions consisting of several large gamebirds, copious quantities of laudanum and a meticulous peregrination of local bordellos.
Once the pre-match exchange of Coats of Arms had taken place and the two gentlemen had posed for the commemorative Toby Jugs fired in their honour, the formalities drew to a close.
The two men barely contained their mutual repugnance at the opening handshake: an audible bark escaped Mr Soames as he identified Mr Cornford’s improperly turned shirt cuff.
Soon Mr Soames was in amongst the balls and scoring freely, prompting the other chap to nervously twirl his silver-topped cane – a gift from the young Nawab of Pataudi. And so the pattern was set: Soames studiously building breaks with sensible shot-making and little fuss; Cornford, cocksure, swaggering, audacious, by turns frustrated and then devastating.
“That is what the crowd pay to see!” sniped Mr Cornford, after potting an outrageous triple-cushion red, gesturing contemptuously at the lithographs placed around the arena celebrating Mr Soames’ endorsement of various pomades, nostrums and Mr Gillette’s new-fangled safety razor.
Mr Soames was ever the gentleman, never failing to doff his hat to his opponent in recognition of the role Lady Luck often plays in the sinking of one’s balls.
As the match meandered sedately to a climax, there was an interruption when several burly factotums had to be called to remove the excitable Mr Wells. His attempts at ‘thought transference’ had caused one of the gin drinking slatterns in the cheap seats to burst into a rendition of the music hall standard, ‘Ballyhooly’ – whose key of E Major was entirely inappropriate for a contest of such import.
With the final ball sunk and victory consummated for ‘Soames’ Soames, the two gladiators relinquished their steely grips on their cues, loosened their cravats and retired to their respective gentleman’s clubs.
It was not the first pitched battle between the two men Shaw later described as “the panjandrum and the popinjay”, and it would not be the last.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
The iPint. Yes. That iPhone application that's been proudly sprayed across the creds of a certain ad agency as proof of their digital skills and fast paced ability to crack a simple idea that is spread by thousands.Admit it - we've seen at least one plank in the pub using it - quaffing their imaginary lager to the delight of their equally hilarious chums.
And each time that H&G logged into the apps page - there it was - a constant reminder of what seemed to be a great, easy and of course free idea that users by their thousands downloaded much to the delight of Carling, the brand attached to the free Ap.
Except in a classic and frankly typical twist turns out the idea wasn't theirs. One of the team had seen it in America and decided to take the idea for their client.
Granted they offered to buy the licence from Hottrix (the actual creator), who politely declined as they were shifting plenty of units at $2.99 a pop.
So BMB thought, sod it, and stole the idea anyway. Allegedly of course.
Currently the latest state of play is that Hottrix are sueing for £7m for lost revenues and irrepparable damages.
Which brings me to this thought. If you blatently rip off someones elses idea and badge it as your own, then frankly, you deserve all you get.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
While one half of H&G is set in rant mode - and very good it was too - the other half of the dynamic duo has had a rather entertaining afternoon submerged in the land of records and 'bitchin beats'.
The tracks in question are for the up and coming Prodigy album 'Invaders Must Die'.
Look out festival land - some of these numbers are going to be huge live !
Hopefully look out for the anarchy that will hit the streets once the campaign goes live early next year.
Posters in flames ? You heard it here first.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
How advertising works: part one...
Short answer: nobody knows. Slightly longer answer: if I knew, I wouldn't be here - I'd be enjoying my soon-to-be-submerged island in the Maldives.
What I hope H&G are here to do is to explain why certain things work and certain things don't.
And hopefully to have some fun at the same time.
Take, as a perfect example, the Cadbury's Gorilla. (Can you feel it, coming in the air tonight?).
Clearly, this was a critical success: winning all sorts of awards...and of course, increasing sales by a giant 9% year-on-year. Our favourite award was for our old agency which stood on stage and describe the TV strategy was about buying 'big spots'. Sorry, 'talkabout TV', whatever that hackney phrase might suggest !
Against a year where Cadbury's didn't advertise. Erm. Ah, well.... nope. No excuse. It didn't really work. Didn't. Work. At All. But industry people liked it.
So of course, it must reproduced with a further Magnum Opus. Which you are currently seeing as a bunch of airport trucks racing. To a theme tune of - currently - Bon Jovi.
Gentlemen: one cannot polish a turd. A sow's ear - or dog's puckering rectum - and this is just that.
Admit it: you don't know why anyone liked the Gorilla - and it didn't work then either - but you wish to recreate it, because the client wants "another one: just like that".
If you would like to know why it "worked" you know where we are.
JR
Short answer: nobody knows. Slightly longer answer: if I knew, I wouldn't be here - I'd be enjoying my soon-to-be-submerged island in the Maldives.
What I hope H&G are here to do is to explain why certain things work and certain things don't.
And hopefully to have some fun at the same time.
Take, as a perfect example, the Cadbury's Gorilla. (Can you feel it, coming in the air tonight?).
Clearly, this was a critical success: winning all sorts of awards...and of course, increasing sales by a giant 9% year-on-year. Our favourite award was for our old agency which stood on stage and describe the TV strategy was about buying 'big spots'. Sorry, 'talkabout TV', whatever that hackney phrase might suggest !
Against a year where Cadbury's didn't advertise. Erm. Ah, well.... nope. No excuse. It didn't really work. Didn't. Work. At All. But industry people liked it.
So of course, it must reproduced with a further Magnum Opus. Which you are currently seeing as a bunch of airport trucks racing. To a theme tune of - currently - Bon Jovi.
Gentlemen: one cannot polish a turd. A sow's ear - or dog's puckering rectum - and this is just that.
Admit it: you don't know why anyone liked the Gorilla - and it didn't work then either - but you wish to recreate it, because the client wants "another one: just like that".
If you would like to know why it "worked" you know where we are.
JR
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
11.34 Jack says "I remember studying in college John Major's election victory in '92 as a demonstartion of how market research - which had Labour MILES ahead - is inadequate as a predictor of human behviour. Major won, but the polls had him losing by 6-7%; but when asked, people would not admit they were Conservative...but they did - in privacy - vote that way.
Analogy to America? Well, who, to a pollster, would admit they were a racist?
Analogy to America? Well, who, to a pollster, would admit they were a racist?
10:41 It's difficult. Really difficult. How can we sit here eating hot dogs and munching Us related snacks (cheeseits are winning)
10:45 We have Ugly Naked Guy over the road from us. It's official. Plums out and visible to us all so great excitement has reached H&G towers. It may just be about the downy hair we can revoltingly see but could it be a predictor of the lightly afro'd potential leader of the free world ?
10:45 We have Ugly Naked Guy over the road from us. It's official. Plums out and visible to us all so great excitement has reached H&G towers. It may just be about the downy hair we can revoltingly see but could it be a predictor of the lightly afro'd potential leader of the free world ?
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