The Copywriter’s Guide to becoming one with advertising or,

How I hate the ipod.
(by Woei Hern)

My boss writes a column in this small box about the way the world of advertising is moving. Among other things. He’s a reservoir of information when it comes to marketing, strategy, public relations and French women.

His battlecry is “integration”. He prides himself in the fact that our venerable, respected and pretty intimidating (well in Japan anyway, we’re like the Alamo down here) agency is at the forefront of this re-revolution.

Of course, every other month we see some agency or another try to come up with their own terms of what integration means. And flout their new “direction”. That’s the other thing that irks me about agencies.

Why on earth do agencies who’ve established one of the best brands in the world always come up with the worst, tackiest, most pretentious and nebulous “proprietary” tools for what basically is “common sense”?

But I’m not here to talk about that. The paragraphs above would’ve already guaranteed a semi-blacklist amongst said agencies. I’m here to talk about how a copywriter can learn “integration” away from the micro-ecosystem of advertising.

Integration in its purest sense, is almost zen-like. Long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, the copywriter writes what is called a “copy strategy”. Which is the birth of many above mentioned “proprietary” tools currently the domain of strat planners.

Copywriters did “type-setting”. Something that Adobe and Art Directors hijacked for themselves. Even if they don’t ever read any bodycopy to start with.

Copywriters did “research”. Which means taking a month off work to work in the manufacturing plant, mingling with factory workers. Or even spending a whole year being homeless just to write an ad for them.

Heck, we even went to take the “brief” before sitting down with the account managers to write it. In the good old days, this meant great “single-minded propositions” that could’ve already been the “big idea”.

Integration is about bringing all the various fragmented disciplines of advertising together - above-the-line, below-the-line, through-the-line and on-the-line becoming just well, “the line”. (I should copyright and trademark that as the next proprietary tool)

But before we start doing that, let’s take a look at our lives and how by living an “integrated” lifestyle can help us become uber-copywriters.

Let’s start with the laptop that I’m writing this on. As I am typing this will-be-scoffed-at-till-i-die-upon-which-will-become-the-stuff-of-legends article, I have hooked up my Altecs to the tunes of Thief – Sunchild.mp3. I am also online, checking my emails, downloading stuff, watching youtube and chatting with my friends. With a little help from 3G of course.

A quick recap. Laptop and mobile phone = all you need. Integrated.

Everybody loves the ipod. But the ipod is the ultimate Chernobyl of integration. Of course they would beg to differ. “It’s all you need to listen to music”, said my 23-year-old junior. “I like it. It’s nice. And it’s an apple”, said my 40+ year old boss.

“I can carry my music with me everywhere”, said a fellow copywriter who obviously plagiarised that from the brochure.

Integrated? I think not. Because of the ipod, you need “ipod speakers”. Tiny, tin-canned players that function only if you drop the pod into it. It can’t play CDs, music from thumb drives or the internet.

To upload your playlist, you need “iTunes”. A RAM-devouring programme with Nazi-like traits – it makes itself the designated player, and ensures that you have to upload everything it wants to, and not you.

You also need an i-something to plug your pod into your car player. You need jeans and running shoes that are called i-something-else.

You watch “movies” through a screen so small, you’d think you’re watching Hero instead of Heroes. Of course, you can now plug it into an “apple server” (I forgot the name, there’re already too many i-somethings. I think it’s called iforgot) that links itself to your TV, sound system, blablabla.

By making itself the one, absolute source of everything that’s cool and I guess, music, the ipod has convinced you to buy 20-million more accessories. The only thing integrated about it, is Apple’s profit margins.

You want to learn what integration is all about? Stop reading articles. Stop asking the so-called ipod-carrying experts. All you need to do is give your 15-year-old nephew a surprise and let him inherit your disintegration.

Living without an ipod, means plugging fat speakers to your laptop. It means playing loud music while you type “dengki” articles like this one. It means skyping and video conferencing people on messenger free of charge. It means so much more, including being integrated, and in about 2 weeks, a better copywriter.