Theory X: Firefox vs Pick-up Lines

 

Samahani, mteja was request uliyotoa hapatikani kwa sasa, na hatapatikana kabisa!

 

So I was doing my regular interweb trolling and I happened to click on a link that sent me right to this firefox declaration! So typical of Loco, first I LOL’ed, really loudly at that! And then I got to thinking;

Ladies, have you ever been hit with one of those pick up lines that left you shaking your head wishing you could say:

Dear pickuper,

You mean to tell me that despite all the brain cells you have lost along the way in your pick up career, and even factoring in your astonishing lack of intellectual prowess plus considering that no one would expect you to be shakespearian in your pick up prose…. THAT is all you could come up with??!

Yours,

Thoroughly disappointed by that pick up line

I’m sure you know the type, “Oh bebe, please be my martini and I’ll have you shaken not stirred!” (Yeah, shaken about my faith in humanity!!) or “Oh bebe, I am donating my organs to science, will you be a science?” (Err, I’m sure you should consider cremation as a more viable project sir) All these delivered by some sleazy chap who would make cows cringe with his use for leather in a suit and has sleaked copius amounts of grease a top of his head in the name of a hairstyle.

So anyway, my point was, I shall print out all those firefox error messages into little cue cards so that next time I have one of these encounters I won’t even have to do any tallking, just whip out my little firefox “request-denied” cards and hand them to the culprits! I shall especially have fun handing out the ones below:

Her Mind. Her Funk. Her Story.

A comment on “Mind and funk” from iCon of Diasporadical, a poignant prose that tells the story of one of the 844,000 who give in to the romance with death.

There’s once lived a lovely lady in the state of New York; Queens to be precise-ish. Brilliant wordsmith and literary mind. She was also blessed with the most sublime of features and a body that elicited nothing but sinful thoughts in the gutters of men’s minds. I had had a crush on her and would walk by her building on my way to the train home from work hoping to catch a glimpse of her smile and maybe a wave too; fuel for my dreams.

Then one day, my balls dropped, and I mustered up the courage and audacity to walk up to her floor, bang on her door and say “Look woman; this is what’s going to happen. I will buy you coffee this evening and you shall drink it and entertain my small talk and midget humor. That is all. Dress snazzy.”
I got to the door and barely tapped it when it opened itself. “Aha! I thought. This is a sign.” but before I could proceed on one of my power-trip self-gratifying solliloquies, I noticed the lady in question passed out by the bathroom floor, foaming at the mouth.

A 911 call, ambulance ride and hospital night later, I found out that she’d had the severest of depressions and had tried to bottle it in and act normal. But the pressure of her family telling her she was sulking for no reason, her friends being jealous of her beauty(mind and other) and her job, her neglectful boyfriends and the ever intimidated passers by who never said anything more than hi, she decided the world was better without her. I tried talking to her, even convinced her to go for professional help a few months later. I moved out of NY to ATL but still swung by to visit and check on her. It was clear that she was struggling without a support system. And the medication did little to help.

3 years and 3 suicide attempts later, she finally made it to Walker Funeral Home.

And her family sat there crying wishing they would’ve listened.

Everybody is worth worlds or more.
Don’t listen to the funk. Well, not that funk at least.

Stay up Loco.

My mind, My… Funk…

I woke up today and I just wanted to die. Literally, just die and leave all this behind, and I probably would have made a move towards achieving my goal.

See I’ve romanced the thought of death once or twice before, teased it, played with it. I’ve attempted suicide once before, on a day just like this, because I was feeling just like this. Like nothing really matters, like everything I do is destined to be one failure after another. Ever felt so useless and inconsequential that you are convinced primordial ooze is more relevant than you are? Well, that’s how I was feeling then, when I took pill after pill knowing I was going to sleep and not wake up. And that’s how I’m feeling now as I write this.

You see I sometimes get into.. funks. That’s the uptown word for it. The real word is depression. To be a little more clinical, I live with a condition called AADHD (Adult attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) and the depression is as a result of comorbidity, that is, when the AADHD makes me feel like a dysfunctional adult, I sink into a depression. So really, if you look at it, I’m a tad manic depressive, the too highs and too low lows.

All that I can deal with. What I usually can’t deal with to be perfectly honest is the judgement from people. If I had a dime for everytime someone told me “AADHD? Thats a disease for white people” (From my brother) or “Stop making excuses” (From a close friend) Oh boy wouldn’t I be rich. And because of this, I spent a very long time thinking that I was just a really bad person. Even now, knowing the underlying psychiatric issues, I pretend that I’m okay with people not understanding, but I’m not. It kills me a little when people think I’m faking my… funk. makes me think, why should I even bother, drives me deeper into the… funk, and brings me where I am today, just wanting to die.

But that’s just me. My mind, my… funk.

According to the WHO (World Health Organization) Mental Health and Development report 2010; 151million people live with depression globally, 26 million with schizophrenia, 40 million with epilepsy, 24 million with Alzheimer’s and other dementias. Yet another 12.5million live with alcohol and drug abuse disorders and approximately 844,000 people die of suicide each year.

What about their minds? Their… funks?

Remembering to climb

Sometimes we need to be reminded the important things in life. For me, lots of times, I need to be reminded not to falter, not to give up really, when I’m tired. When all I want to do is abandon what I’ve started and crawl into a corner and wait for doomsday.  And the great Hughes, Langston Hughes, reminds me, through this brilliant piece, which goes unrivaled as my favorite poem of all time.

MOTHER TO SON;

Well son, I’ll tell you, Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair,

It’s had tack in it, and splinters, and boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor – Bare

But all the time, I’se been climbin’ on

And reachin’ landings, and turning corners

And sometimes goin’ in the dark, where there ain’t been no light

So, boy, don’t you turn back, don’t you set down on the steps

Cause you finds it’s kinder hard, don’t you fall now –

For I’se still goin,’ honey, I’se still climbin’

And life for me, ain’t been no crystal stair.

So go forth and climb, even though, as the perona in this piece puts it, Life ain’t no crystal stair.

Of grim grooming….

Now now now nairobians. It is not acceptable, at 11.00am in the morning, to reek of 15 day toil and trouble with a hint of freshly exhumed corpse. In any which way. I don’t care how you cut it, foul stench at that morning hour is just plain rude.

Situation: Loco is minding her own business as a good little commuter making her way to work, you know, “Kutafutia watoto school fees” (Nevermind that I have no children). In comes a tout who insists on scrunching his way into my slice of matatu and then raising his arms as though it finally dawned on him to follow rapper’s instructions and “Put your hands up”. What followed…. (Pause as I shudder at the memory of this near death experience) a putrid mixture of acid, bile and various other body fluids I care not to imagine all coalated into this horiffic sweat vapour hits my nostrils like a police baton born and bred in Kiganjo. AT 11.00AM. IN THE MORNING!

As anyone who has had a near death experience will probably tell you, I saw my life flashing before my eyes. Okay, maybe it was the acridity induced tearing reflex that caused that visual hiccup to happen, but if you were seated where I was seated at that particular moment then you would see how I thought I was about to die a painful Chernobyl-like death!

Anyway, riddle me this bloggers and bloggettes, given this very accurate (if not grossly understated) account of events, was it wrong for me to immediately reach into my bag, pull out a can of deodorant and proceed to first-aid this man’s clearly direly affected underarm area, as I gave him directions to the nearest water body and prescribed a bath?

I came, I read, I LOL’ed…

Raise your hands anyone who has been neglecting their blog! *Loco raises her hand slowly while looking around* Okay so I’ve been a truant blogger of late. What can I say, things are thick, ye olde Loco’s thinker just can’t write as well and as often as it used to! (Pause as I laugh at the double entendre insinuated in that statement. If only I were an old getriatric man!)

Anyway, of late I’ve been living a very interesting life, the kind that takes about 59 therapy sessions to understand! I however have found, that witty literature has been one of the most theraputic escapes for me in the midst of all this “Interestingness” (Forgive my murder of the english language). Well that and coffee abuse, happy pills, nicotine, debauchery and various morally corrupt vices, but let’s not dwell on those!!! Hehe!

So I present to you some of the brilliant quotable gems I’ve stumbled across in the course of my literature trawling. Enjoy.

I never let schooling interfere with my education.

Mark Twain

You can do a lot with flowers. Girls love them. And what is more, there is a recognised language of flowers. Shoot in a rose or a calceolaria, or an herbaceous border, or something, I gather, and you have made a formal proposal of marriage without the trouble of rehearsing a long speech and practising appropriate gestures infront of your bedroom looking glass.

P. G. Wodehouse (Something To Worry About)

It is one thing to be cosmetically defiant of authority, by wearing unconventional clothing _ what social scientists call “Cheap signalling” and another to prove willingness to translate belief into action.

Nicholas Nassim Taleb (Black Swan)

This is not a search for self but he creation of it. I shall play and I shall act and I shall have much fun. I shall be the conductor, The baton is in my hands and the balls are in my caught!

Freya North (Sally)

That’s all for now bloggers and bloggettes!!

#KenyaDecides; Ballot Affairs

“Small is the number that sees with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts.” Albert  Einstein.

Tomorrow voters in Kenya will be called to take to the booth once again to exercise their right to democracy. Given the history of democracy (or lack thereof) in Kenya, especially in the 2008 elections, it is understandable that there shall be some voters who will be hesitant to go to the ballot. But there as those who will vote.

I hope that Kenyans who take to the ballot will vote consciously and soberly. I hope that voters will cast their votes based on their personal thoughts and beliefs on the proposed constitution. It will be a sad day, when all the hype has died down, for one to look back at the state of affairs they chose to support and regret their decision.

I will not cast my vote because of what a politician said (especially not because of what a Kenyan politician says). I will not cast my vote because of what my friend whispered. I will not cast my vote based on the numerous philosopolitical debates I have heard in bars and coffee houses. I will cast my vote because I believe in my stand. Because I personally believe my chosen stand is best for me and for the future of this country. I respect also, the choices of those around me and shall not vilify anyone who takes a stand that is contrary to mine.

I leave you with this gem from Albert Einstein that echoes my own thoughts as regards this constitutional affair “May the conscience and the common sense of the people be awakened that we may reach a new stage in the life of nations…”

Happy voting wananchi.

Hopeless

Hello morning… now when does the fun begin….

When I left home 3 years ago I was looking for a fresh start. In my naivete, I saw it as an apportunity to have a fresh start. To breakaway.

Goodbye morning, sorry it had to end… I stayed just a little too long, now it’s time for me to move on…

3 years down the line, I was packing my bags once more. Looking for another fresh start. Back to where I had come from.

Hello yesterday, remember how it used to be….

Nairobi. Vibrant. Full of opportunity. Family. It would all be right. Right? Wrong.

Goodbye yesterday, I can’t take you with me….

So now I’m looking to breakaway again. Searching for the mould to fit in. I might never find it. But I’ll try.

They say I’m hopeless… as a penny with a hole in it

I might never meet the expectations of those who have faith in me. My parents. My friends. Maybe their expectations are misguided. But what’s the point of having a life if I am to live it for everyone else?

They say I’m no less… than up to my head in it….

So here I go, in pursuit of my destiny, whatever that is.

*Quote excerpts from Hopeless by Dionne Farris

Going viral: The OTHER lesson

PART 2: CARPE-DIEM and CAPITALIZE!

Viral marketing is spontaneous, fast paced and subject to the whimsical fancies of your audience. In viral marketing, QUICK THINKING and IMMEDIATE ACTION are essential. Viral Marketing offers a brief window of opportunity during which your audience is focused on YOU and is hungry for more of what you have to offer. It is imperative that the marketer capitalizes on this window of opportunity, because it closes rapidly. TIME WAITS FOR NO MARKETER!

Just A Band was caught off guard with the Makmende sensation. They were unprepared for the sensational sweep of social media hype created by and for their concept. Before they could regroup and act, facebook and wikipedia pages had been set up, an ‘official’ website had been created, t-shirts with Makmende quips were steaming off the presses. By the time they marshaled their resources to respond to the sensation, the Makmende train had run out of steam. Makmende on the capital breakfast did not catch on. People had moved on.

What Just A Band lost was the opportunity to not only tap into a craze they had created, but to control it in their favor. As it was, Makmende became the spotlight of the viral hype. Few bothered to buy the 82 album that actually contained the Ha-He song that started the entire buzz. Makmende took center stage with pomp and flair, exited right and left Just A Band as, well, just a band.

In the case of Old Spice, Weiden+Kennedy were superbly quick on the uptake. They milked the Old Spice viral humdrum for all it was worth. Media relations was mobilized and the audience was given the “Making Of The Old Spice Ad” to chew on. They then took it to another level. They implemented the basic marketing principle of “Talk about you if you talk about me” Basically they mobilized celebrities via social networks and tailor-made spin offs of the advert addressed to these celebrities. The celebrities then hyped the spin-off Old Spice videos to their own audiences. Brilliant. Procter&Gamble (The owners of the Old Spice brand) gave them free reign to create and create they did. The Weiden+Kennedy team shot 87 videos in eleven hours. Isaiah Mustapha in these 20 second spots delivered witty messages to celebrities such as Alyssa Milano, Ellen DeGeneres, even to his daughter and the Old Spice audience at large.

When it comes to capitalizing of a viral sensation, it is important to note that quantity often takes priority over quality. This does not mean completely ignoring the creative value of the content you push, it simply requires the marketer to churn out as much as they can as best as the can while their brand is still going viral. Remember, the audience is in a heightened state of reception, they simply want more.

CONCLUSION:

In true “Therapy, mukimo and sex” style (let me break it down for you so that it can forever and consistently be BROKE!), I find that one should relate viral marketing to a passionate romp/rodgering. Tease them until they want more. Then go hard and fast. Flip ‘em over. Leave them breathless. And when you come, bring the THUNDER along. Trust me, they won’t forget you.

Going Viral: Lesson One

PART 2: PRODUCT IS NOTHING. CONCEPT IS EVERYTHING.

Going viral is about AN IDEA, a concept that people want to and can easily RELATE TO. The main focus is not the product. With a good enough concept, I assure you, even pee cola can be sent the viral way.

Just A band’s product was the Ha-he video, their music. The viral focus was the concept of the superhero Makemende. The trigger that the audience related to was nostalgia of the youth. Their need to cling to a superhero. Kenyan’s love reminiscing. Many a long winded bar conversation has been initiated by the simple phrase “When I was young… heeeee!” The Makmende phenomenon allowed kenyans to revisit the good old days of their youth in unison.

The Old Spice product was the Old Spice Body Wash, the viral focus was the concept of quintessential masculinity. As I mentioned, I have no idea what Old Spice Body Wash smells like. From what I have picked up from the net, it reminds most people of their fathers for some reason, not quite the audience targeted by the advert. However the CONCEPT propagated in the advert is what went viral; the concept of power, dominance sexuality and wit. A concept that global audiences (roughly between 18-35yrs old) want to embrace.

Women want to BE WITH the man on the horse, men want to BE the man on the horse. Simple.

To be continued…