Author Archive for Slick Tiger



13
Jan
14

Escape Monday: With Sexist Ads from the 1930s

offending_chinreducerIt’s crazy how advertising has evolved over the past 100-odd years. The messages are all essentially the same, but the way they are communicated have become increasingly complex and manipulative.

Back in the day, things were a little more straightforward. Advertisers had pretty much no shame when it came to targeting women to buy their products as you’ll see in the ads that follow.

The scary thing is that most advertising still plays largely on people’s fears and insecurities, but instead of saying “You are fat / skinny / have bad skin / smell – buy our product” it’s now changed to “She is gorgeous, confident, sexy and perfect because she bought our product.”

Advertisers have realised that you don’t have to point out people’s flaws to get them to buy whatever snake oil you’re selling. Instead, bombard them with images of flawless people and they’ll connect the dots all by themselves.

I’ve sorted all the ads originally featured here (worth reading if you want more insight into and analysis of these ads) into easy-to-read categories.

Category No. 1 – You stink

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah, pretty brutal right? Just wait, it gets better. If it wasn’t bad enough that you stink, wait until you get a load of category 2.

Category no. 2 – Your Lady Parts Stink

 

 

 

 

 

Men back in the day were real uncommunicative shitheads apparently. Some would say not much has changed…

Moving right along, category 3 is another winner that is still dogging women (and men) at every turn.

Category no. 3 – You are too fat / too skinny

 

 

 

 

 

Interestingly, though skinny women are currently considered beautiful, the opposite was true when the world went through the Great Depression and the tough economic climate saw countless millions of people wasting away from starvation all over the world.

The next category is also one that exists to this day.

Category no. 4 – Your Hands Are Rough as a Goat’s Knee

 

 

 

 

The first one is the best (worst?) – “Romance DIES at the touch of DISHPAN HANDS!” Reminds me of the “Reefer Madness” movie posters that also did the rounds on the 30s.

Moving right along, here’s ma favourite category of the whole lot.

Category no.5 – Hey guys! Let’s invent a retarded-sounding new term to scare women into buying our shitty products!

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah. That last one makes no sense whatsoever. The fuck is she putting gelatine in the salad for? What in the name of all that is holy is she making?!

There are a ton more here, but I thought I’d end with a personal favourite from the early 70s:

 

 

What the actual fuck. Who are they hiring, sex-slaves? The copy in that ad is so embarrassingly chauvinistic, it makes me ashamed to be a man.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed that trip down to hell memory lane. I’d like to say we’ve come a long way, but have we?

 

 

No.

No we haven’t.

-ST

10
Jan
14

In 2014 We Play The Guitar, Owwwww Yeeeeeaaaaahhhhhh…

realistic_flaming_guitar_fireI used to play. Back in the glory days. I remember the first night I played for a bar full of people. It wasn’t even on my own guitar, it was on this guy called Will’s guitar.

The guitar I had at the time was a total piece of shit. The action on the fretboard felt like I was trying to play a fucking bow and arrow so I said fuck that, and borrowed this guy Will’s guitar.

Will’s guitar was a thing of wonder. Yellow wood acoustic steel string, rich tone, so fucking easy to play. Will couldn’t play for shit so I felt like I was doing the guy a favour.

Anyway, I got good and stoned like I used to back then and headed for this total dive-bar called “Die Tajhuijs” in Grahamstown for open mic night (or “Fireside Jam” as it was known).

I remember that invincible feeling, walking down those twilight streets with Will’s guitar on my back, I was nervous as hell but I felt ready.

When I finally got up to play this crazy thing happened to me that’s only happened a handful of times since. About 30 seconds into my first song, I started to feel this incredible sense of detachment, like I was leaving myself and watching myself from the outside.

 

 

I played about 4 songs, three of my own and a cover and remember it going pretty well. Afterwards I drank cheap whisky with my friends until the bar closed and passed out later that night feeling like this was the beginning of something amazing, something life-changing.

I did another handful of gigs at varsity, but stopped when I left. I had these big plans to get a band and make a million bucks, but I got a career instead and settled for a couple of thousand a month and a life of (relative) stability and certainty.

On Saturday last week I played my first live gig in about 8 years. It was one song that a buddy asked me to play at his wedding as his bride walked down the aisle, something from the Twilight soundtrack.

 

 

I fumbled my way through the song, making more mistakes than I care to admit and shuffled off in shame afterwards. It wasn’t that I hadn’t practised, I’d practised a shiteload, it was that I wasn’t prepared for the devastating effect that nerves have on your ability to function in front of a crowd.

The positive side of this story though is that during all the time I spent practising for the big day, I started to get that old feeling back that I used to get when I played back in my teens and my early twenties.

I miss that feeling. When you connect so closely with the instrument you’re playing you can’t tell where you end and it begins. That’s fucking powerful. The feeling of an acoustic guitar vibrating against your chest, reverberating in your bones. The way you can switch off your rational mind and just get lost, become pure.

This year I want to play more. I want to start out at the beginning. Re-learn all the scales, know them backward, inside-out. Chose a song every week to learn, feel my hand strengthen and my fingertips get hard again.

Also, I plan to watch and post a lot of videos like this one below from the “Guitar Moves” series. It features one of my heroes when it comes to playing, Josh Homme, talking about how he plays and how he learned his signature style.

I really dig this interview, even if you don’t play I’d recommend watching it because Homme can be this really cagey guy when it comes to interviews. A lot of the time I get this feeling like he’s either bored to tears in interviews and deliberately trying to fuck with the interviewer, or like he’s trying to open up and the person interviewing him and they just aren’t getting it at all.

This is just Homme being himself, it’s pretty awesome.

 

 

By the end of this year, I hope to be playing like a flippin demon again and who knows? If I get my shit together, I might even film my progress as I go.

Could be pretty hilarious Winking smile

Peace out Party People, have a killer weekend.

-ST

09
Jan
14

The Tiger Family Photoshoot

6660267355_c1f8412e1e_oIf you have a baby, the golden rule is the minute that little bundle of poop joy can smile, you HAVE TO take him / her to a professional photographer and shell out a small fortune to have family pics taken.

If you don’t do this, print the pics out on canvas and block-mount them in the most visible place in your house, you are a total failure as a parent.

People will judge you, especially other parents who are pissed that they went ahead and dropped a couple of thou on their family photoshoot and you have the audacity not to follow suit.

When you’re a teenager you have to deal with peer pressure, which is bad enough, but once you’ve bred you graduate to “parent pressure”, which is about 1000 times worse.

J-Rab is smart as hell though and came up with a brilliant plan to get some amazing family photies without having to hire a professional photographer – hell, without even having to leave our flippin HOUSE YO!

We just set up her camera in our spare room, balanced it on some books, set the self-timer and fired away.

It worked well because we were totally relaxed and could take as many pics as we wanted. If you’re a new parent and have a half-decent camera, I would highly recommend going this route rather than hiring a pro.

Check it:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were others I also loved but I’ll save them for Facebook. In fact, many would argue that this entire post should have been saved for Facebook but those people are jerks.

I’m proud of our little family. J-Rab and I have come a very long way to get to this point, we’ve braved some rough seas and have come out the other side stronger for it.

And I’m especially proud of my little girl. She’s changed so much in the 4 short months since she was born as the pic below, taken when she was a few weeks old, perfectly illustrates:

 

 

How I got so lucky I’ll never know. What I do know though is that I will fight tooth and nail for my girls to provide for them, care for them and keep them safe.

That’s all that really matters. Everything else takes a backseat once you bring a new life into this world.

The game has changed. I have changed and I swear to God, life couldn’t be better Winking smile

-ST

08
Jan
14

Eating The Elephant

5371287359_8fffb8f987_oIt’s been so long since I last wrote, I just had to brush the dust off my keyboard. Last year ended in a sprint for the finish line during which I bailed out on a whole lot of commitments, including this blog.

Sadly, the hits on this site have suffered as a result and the only comments coming through have all been from bots, each more nonsensical than the last, but I knew this would happen.

I’m prepared to start fresh and grow my readership to what it once was. That’s the thing about your Tiger pal, he’s a tenacious fucker, which is the nice way of saying he’s too dumb to know when to quit.

I started 2013 with a post in which I wrote that my mantra for the year was “Be Brave”. At the time of writing that, it was a kind of in-joke that only J-Rab and I understood because she was about 7 weeks pregnant with our first child.

That simple mantra got me through a lot last year, no lies. When you’re staring at the business end of a C-Section as they pull your daughter into this world, all you can be is brave.

And for the most part last year, I think I did live up to that mantra. It might sound lame, but I took comfort in those simple words when shit was getting crazy and so, in keeping up with this tradition, here’s the mantra I’m adopting for 2014:

EAT THE ELEPHANT

Doesn’t quite have the simple elegance of “Be Brave”, but there’s a lot of power in those words.

The elephant in question is the gigantic goal you’ve always wanted to achieve. Whether it’s to learn an instrument or get a promotion or travel the world or change your career, every one of us has an elephant in our lives that, just by its sheer size and magnitude, seems impossible to conquer.

 

 

This year we eat that fucker. We do it one bite at a time, one day at a time until the entire thing has been devoured.

It’s the “Brushing Your Teeth” approach to life. You brush your teeth twice a day for about two minutes and, provided you’re doing it right and throwing in the occasional floss for good measure, your teeth stay healthy and white.

However, if you had to stop brushing your teeth for a week and then, come Sunday, brush them for a solid 24 minutes, after a month there’d be more green fur in your mouth than rancid felt on a pool table at Stones.

So whatever your big goal for 2014 is, sink some time into it every day, whether that means getting up earlier, waking up later or forgoing your nightly routine of chain-watching your favourite TV shows (guilty), the excuse that there isn’t enough time in the day is a load of shit when you stop to think about it.

 

 

In 2014 we fight to get that time back. We stop giving it away and wasting it because time is all we have and once it’s spent, it’s gone for good.

Last year I set myself the goal of finishing my first manuscript for a novel. I ploughed through the first three chapters, hit a wall on the fourth and then made up excuses for the rest of the year as to why I couldn’t continue from that point.

If I’d kept the momentum I had at the beginning of the year, I would have finished my manuscript by November, but I let the elephant trample me instead.

I believe that there is an amazing life we are all meant to lead, one that is at least 80% awesome and is incredibly fulfilling and rewarding, but the only way to lead that life is to remain steadfast, focussed and disciplined when it comes to achieving your goals.

This world owes us sweet fuck all. The sooner we realise that, stop making excuses and start eating the elephant, the sooner we can start living the dream.

So here’s to kicking ass, takin’ names and eating elephants.

Happy 2014 Party People Winking smile

-ST 

24
Dec
13

Merry Xmas Ya Beautiful Basterds

Beautiful-Christmas-Tree-WallpaperChristmas will never, ever be the same for J-Rab and I because a year ago today, we were still reeling from the shock of finding out that we were going to be parents.

Crazy how the build-up to Christmas has brought all those memories flooding back. It was on the 18th December last year that our lives changed forever and if I think back on that time it makes my balls shrivel a little.

The Cub wasn’t planned so when we found out she was on her way, we both shat bricks for about 10 days straight, full of what I can only describe as Mortal Terror at the thought of becoming parents.

Now, one year later, things are a damn side rosier. Once your child is actually born and has become a physical thing in the world, you can start the process of figuring out what to do with it and how it works (or doesn’t).

Looking back, it’s been the happiest four months of my life, no lies. If I had to do it all again, I wouldn’t change a damn thing.

So anyway, I promised J-Rab I’d keep this short and sweet cause I gots me some Eggnog to make and then we’re hitting a Xmas Eve party at Graum’s place where (hopefully) our little one will go down at about 8 and let mom and dad have some fun, but knowing life, this will definitely not happen.

Before I go, I want to wish you guys a merry Christmas and say that though the posts may have dwindled over the past two months, you can bet your bottom dollar that the Tiger will be back in the New Year rested, rejuvenated and ready to kill everything he sees.

Until then, may the joyous spirit of Christmas fill you with child-like wonder as you spend this time surrounded by the people you love, eating too much, drinking too much and spoiling each other rotten.

Merry Christmas Party People Winking smile

Love from Your Tiger Pal,

-ST

10
Dec
13

One Of The Most Harrowing Videos I’ve Ever Seen

Base JumpIt really takes a lot to shock me. My poor, tired, old, twisted mind has seen so much unbelievably fucked up shit both on the interwebs and on occasion, in real life too, that I’ve become pretty desensitised.

So for me to call a video “harrowing”, you better believe it’s pretty intense sheeit. I watched this with absolutely no explanation of what I was going to see so that’s all the explanation I’m going to give you.

Don’t freak out though, this isn’t 2-Girls-1-Cup kinda fucked up, it’s just a very, very intense GoPro video of things going very wrong for someone. Watch in full screen for maximum impact.

 

 

Yoh. That part where he hits the rocky outcrop. You can almost feel his hopelessness as he approaches it. You know it’s coming, but you’re hoping he’ll miss it somehow and then BAM!

The base jumper in this video, Thayer Healey, apparently survived with a fractured vertebrae, stitches and back, wrist and hand sprains, pretty minor considering what he went through.

Wonder if he’ll ever base jumped again?

Knowing these crazy fuckers the answer is probably “yes”.

-ST

09
Dec
13

Escape Monday: Other Level Lego Advertising

FinalI work in the ad industry. Sort of. Without going into any detail, let’s just say the industry I work in is like Advertising’s ugly cousin who has to try twice as hard to get the boys but has “a lovely personality”.

Because we’re from the same family, I’ve sat in countless creative brainstorming sessions with Advertising listening to the utter shite that pours from her mouth like an overflowing manhole.

So when I see advertising done well, when I see a simple yet genius idea executed flawlessly, I smile inwardly because I know how many thousands of hours it probably took to come up with – like these amazing Lego ads for example.

Cast yer peepers over these beauties while I go write my heartfelt memoirs of how, no matter how hard I try please everyone, Advertising ALWAYS gets all the budget 🙁

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those last ads especially are flippin incredible.

Well played Lego.

Well played.

-ST

06
Dec
13

Our Father

nelson-mandelaI found out late, probably around 2am when J-Rab checked her phone whilst feeding our baby girl. She turned to me and said the words every South African has known were coming for the last six months.

“Nelson Mandela has died.”

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the gale force winds of Vredehoek blowing the South Africa I have always known away.

I was six years old when he was released from prison. I was ten when he was sworn in as president. I was fourteen when his presidency ended, twenty when he retired from public life, twenty seven when he was first hospitalised. I am now thirty.

I don’t remember what I said to J-Rab when she told me, I don’t think much. I’m not sure what there is to say. She fed our cub in silence, gently laid her down in her cot next to the bed and soothed her back to sleep.

In the half light streaming in from the bathroom, I saw J-Rab wipe her cheek.

This morning I rose early to go to gym and experienced the first wave of media dedicated to him – it was the speech he gave at his inauguration – “Let there be justice for all… Let there be peace for all… Let freedom reign…”

The TV in the gym change room was showing a vigil in London attended by a handful of South African expats. I watched for a long time, other people gathered around the TV too, we didn’t say anything to one another, we didn’t have to.

I trained hard. The gym is my church, it’s the place I go to shut out the world, the first place I run to when I need to escape. I go deep into the darkness and it welcomes me as it always does with burning intensity and, for an hour or so, sweet oblivion.

But even in the throes of it, I couldn’t push the thoughts of this staggering loss out of my mind.

When I came back home, I found J-Rab trying desperately to sleep and our little one thrashing around joyfully in the bed next to her, burbling baby nonsense and smiling from ear to ear.

That was the hardest part of a day that I know is only going to get harder – seeing my daughter lying there, all of 3 months old, and knowing that she will never know a world in which Nelson Mandela is alive.

I’ll leave the biographies and the detailed stories of his life and tributes to the people who are better versed to write them.

All I know is that we lost more than a statesman last night, we lost more than a politician, more than a freedom fighter, more than a leader.

We lost a father, and my prayer for the sons and daughters he left behind is that we never forget the sacrifices he made for us, nor the hope he carried in his heart for the future of this beautiful, haunted country.

May the sun never set on so glorious a human achievement.

-ST

28
Nov
13

Vice Magazine Finds The Real Walter White

The Real WWSheeit, I might as well just call this the Breaking Bad fansite. I hardly post for three weeks and then it’s BreakingBadBreakingBadBreakingBad until your eyeballs are bleeding all over your keyboard.

But this video needs to be watched by you right now. It’s the story of the real Walter White – an actual meth cook who became a drug kingpin in the early 2000s before he was taken down by the fuzz.

It’s a helluva lot less glamorous than the show. For starters, all he did was cook the meth, leave it at random collection points and then go back the next day to collect a big fat wad of cash.

Seems like a nice enough guy though. Unlike Walt from the series, the real life WW became a full-on junkie though and is currently awaiting trial that could end in a life sentence in prison.

Check it:

 

 

Judging from his teeth and that gross thing growing next to his nose in some of those shots, this guy was definitely a meth addict, but was he the real life Walter White?

I’m a little sceptical. I seriously doubt his operation was anywhere near the scale of Walt’s in the series, but something tells me that real-life meth cooks are more like Badger and Skinny Pete than Mr White.

SCIENCE, BITCH!

-ST

27
Nov
13

A Post From The Darkest Hour

Stay-Awake-All-NightThey say 3am is the darkest hour or the witching hour as it’s also known. Some people think it’s 12am, but I can tell you from experience, it’s definitely 3am when the world is dead asleep.

Remember what a big deal it was to stay awake until this time when you were a kid? Or how crazy it felt the first time you stayed awake all night and watched the sun rise the next day?

Thinking back, those were my first few experiences of the darkest hour, it was all excitement and this feeling like I was getting away with something.

Of course, after that, once I hit my teenage years my experiences of 3am were a different story altogether. Instead of being all hyped up at the thrill of doing something forbidden, I’d be blind drunk and stumbling lost through the thick fog of alcohol oblivion.

The witching hour remained in that same thick fog for a long time. In fact, from when I was 13 until my late 20s, if I’d made it through to 3am, I was definitely in a drastically altered state which guaranteed that the day to follow would be a complete write-off.

But, as I got older I began to experience a much, much more terrifying kind of witching hour – the one where you make it to 3am because you’re still fucking working.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those guys always shouting from the roof-tops about how hardcore his work ethic is (also known as WANKERS). Those guys take this weird satisfaction from the fact that they have no lives outside work, that’s not me.

And yet here I am. Eyes burning from lack of sleep, head spinning from too much coffee and heart sinking at the thought of a future of more and more mornings like these.

The world is unforgiving and there are too damn many of us in it. To make a mark you have to either be very lucky or willing to make big sacrifices to get ahead.

Me, I just want to be curled up with J-Rab right now, listening to the tiny muffled snores of my baby girl in the cot next to the bed and enjoying the simple pleasure of being close to the people I love.

Swear to God, December can’t come soon enough. It’s been a good year, but I am done.

I’m sure we can all agree, it’s high time for a little R&R.

Any minute now… Winking smile

-ST