Shaddap and read this…

In general, the blork blog is a “no quote zone” because I don’t like the way people bandy quotes around like gumdrops, reducing our collective wisdom to little more than platitudes and quickly-forgotten snippets.

However, I read the following recently, and it is very much in tune with how I’m thinking, so I feel compelled to reproduce it here.

The twin curses of modern life are boredom and mindless episodic excitement. Life is poisoned by them and Art is their antidote.
Harry S. Broudy

Types of Babes.

Bill’s and Partygirlie’s comments after my Sexualist vs. Sensualist post, in which they talk about getting off on/in libraries and bookstores has prompted me to reveal my highly coveted list of Types of Babes. Keep in mind this is blork talking, so I’m not going to fall into that rut where “babe” means some kind of Barbie doll chick. Au contraire, a Barbie doll-type has to work extra hard on other things to overcome that handicap.

As such, for the purpose of this (and any further) discussion, a “babe” is a female person who isn’t hard on the eye-bones (this is very subjective and widely variable), and who exhibits the proverbial je ne sais quoi that transforms her out of the morass of the ordinary into the exhalted realm of the extraordinary. This can be as simple as how she wears her scarf, but is usually a complex arrangement of physical characteristics (with “cleanliness” at the top), plus style, attitude, smarts, wit, sensibility, and lack of annoying habits.

There are, however, a number of specific short-cuts, which are categorized below. If a woman fits into one of these categories, the chances of her achieving “babe” status increases by a full order of magnitude.

Thus, for your intellectual enjoyment, I present blork’s taxonomy of babeness:

  • Women in book stores (book store babes)
  • Women who drink scotch whiskey and don’t make a big deal of it (highlander babes)
  • Women in long black dresses who play the cello (cello babes)
  • Women who will eat just about anything I put in front of them (not-fussy babes)
  • Women who fall down when they laugh (fall-down-laughing babes)
  • Women who love to travel (travelling babes)
  • Women who love my cat (Spiff-lovin’ babes)
  • Women who know how to be angry without being hurtful (non-nasty babes)
  • Women who are jounalists—particularly Canadian TV journalists (news babes)
  • Women who don’t think I’m a dope (very astute babes)
  • Women who wear big knobby sweaters (sweater babes)
  • Women with Russian accents (ruška-babeškå)
  • Women who write plays, novels, or magazine articles (writerly babes)
  • Women who are astronauts from Quebec (les cosmo-babes)
  • Women who ride scooters (scooter babes)
  • You, if you’re still reading this

More on the naughty advertising

There’s a follow-up in today’s Montreal Gazette to the story I reported yesterday about the guy getting fired for publishing a rather naughty ad promoting Marketing Magazine‘s advertising competition. In the kufuffle, the chair of the competition quit.

The Gazette article doesn’t say much more than what I said, but it does show another of the three ads that were created for the competition. This one is very, very cruel and nasty. that's so mean! The Gazette story also points out that Canadian advertising (like many things Canadian) is notoriously bland, and the designer of these ads, home-boy ad whiz Paul Lavoie, is on a mission to introduce edgy Euro-style advertising to the domestic market. Apparently he’s doing a good job of it–maybe too good. (In the ad, the Dad is saying “HACK“. The theme is “really tough judging.”)

Keep in mind that these ads, and the niche magazine in which they appear, are targetted at battle-hardened advertising professionals who have seen and heard it all. Most of these folks are crying out to push the proverbial envelope, but their clients are fickle and squeemish. (For example, McDonald’s Canada recently nixed an ad concept featuring a single Mom because they were worried it reflected badly on their image of wholesome family values.)

Here’s an exclusive, of sorts

The National Post reports:

Rogers Publishing Ltd. has fired the publisher of Marketing Magazine, just a few days after the trade publication ran a sexually suggestive ad touting its annual industry awards show.

A day later they report:

Paul Lavoie, the chairman of the 2002 Marketing Awards, has resigned in protest over the firing Monday of Cameron Gardner, publisher of Marketing Magazine.

Apparently Mr. Rogers is disturbed at the thought of a bit of cunnilingus. According to the first article, they axed Gardner because they found the ad “offensive and an embarrassment to Rogers Publishing and Marketing Magazine“, which is not the same as saying “some people may find it offensive.” The former means you have a stick up your ass and are no fun at all. The latter means you have someone else’s stick up your ass and and are beholden to the money they pay you to keep it there, which in some small way is slightly less stupid.

Here, for your viewing pleasure, is the ad. Forgive the low resolution, as I captured this with my digital camera after laying the magazine on the floor. yummy!In the balloon over the woman’s head she’s saying “MERIT”, which is even worse than “bronze”. Underneath the ad it says “Really tough judging. The 2002 Marketing Awards.

OK, maybe I’ve spent too much time with my face in someone else’s crotch, but I don’t find this offensive. Borderline misandric, but hey, it’s funny as heck. And yes, I can see why a few of those stiff and starchy old fogeys who inhabit the rarified ivory towers of marketing might feel their butt-holes pucker at the thought of such salacious debauchery. After all, no one has ever used sex in advertising before!

Of course the very tasteful National Post declined to supply a supporting illustration (hence my fuzzy reproduction), but Our Man in Toronto (Sinclair Stewart) described it thusly: “It features a man under the sheets of a bed apparently engaged in a sex act with a woman who can be seen above the covers, her arms crossed and eyes upturned in boredom“. Which begs the obvious question…

how do you know it’s a man under the covers?

Note: Here are links to the stories: (fired, quit), but they might not work because the National Post’s ASP system is so lame. If the links don’t work, go to and enter “Marketing Magazine” (with quotes) into their “60 day search” thingy and you’ll find them… at least up until December 25, 2001. Don’t go through the ghastly “” portal or it will take you an hour to find the 60-day Search field.