Posts Tagged ‘Cyberiter’

Cockney Rhyming Slang

July 29, 2010 - 11:56 pm

Sir Winston Churchill a single time finally observed that Americans and the British are ‘a community people divided about a proverbial wording’ …

On no account was that as happen as when describing the Cockneys.

You’ve certainly heard their accent, made renowned in everything from movies based on Dickens and George Bernard Shaw novels to computer-generated gekkos weighty official gekkos how to wend forth and sell railway carriage insurance. The Australian beat has its roots in Cockney culture, as they comprised a large percentage of prisoners who were shipped there through the British when they viewed the Berth Down Covered by as an dream punitive colony. Cockneys are the duplicitous characters from east London who worship those extent their lot who can frame a living entirely sooner than ‘ducking and diving, mate,’ which is their adaptation of wheeling and dealing on a working-class level.

To be a ‘faithful’ Cockney, lone must be born ‘within the sounds of the Bow bells.’ That’s a specification to the St Mary-le-Bow Church in the Cheapside territory of London ‘proper.’ Their report carries to a rigidity of close to three miles, which defines the Cockney digs recovered than any zoning ordinance could do.

The locution ‘Cockney’ foremost appeared in the 1600s, but its actual origins are vague. Its triumph known quotation was related to the Prostrate oneself bells themselves in a spell sarcasm that gave no reason for the purpose the association.

Some think that ‘Cockney’ came from the essay subordinate gesture of Vikings, known as the Normans. These were descendants of the Northmen (’Norman’ was the French report in support of ‘Viking’) who settled in that depart of northern France that came to be known as Normandy when Monarch Charles the Plain ceded it to the Vikings in change also in behalf of ceasing their annual summer sackings of Paris. William the Conqueror was a Norman, and when he took England in 1066, a estimable amount of French pressurize permeated the Anglican language.

Normans over referred to London as the Take captive of Sugar Chunk, or ‘Pais de Cocaigne,’ which was an allusion to what they catchword as ‘the orderly life’ that could be had at near living there. In the end, this gave waken to a nickname for being spoiled, ‘cockering,’ and from there, Cockney was a peremptorily derivative away.

Cockneys are famous with a view dropping the ‘H’ from the start of words and awful in the disposition of every grammar coach for their coining the interview ‘ain’t’ to supplant the formal contraction pro ‘is not.’ Regardless, their most unparalleled feature is their unique and catchy rhyming slang.

Key has it that, during the headway of their ‘ducking and diving,’ they would occasionally run afoul of the law. It was not uncommon for the sake of groups of Cockneys to be transported together to and from custody and courtroom, plainly in the entourage of policemen. So that they could speak outspokenly to each other and withhold the officers any cleverness to construe what they were saying, Cockneys devised a word/phrase combine methodology that contrariwise the truly-indoctinated could follow. This became known as their rhyming slang.

It’s honest, really. For example:

Dog-and-bone = give someone a ring
Apples-and-pears = stairs
Troubles-and-strife = wife

So, if a Cockney wanted you to communicate with upstairs to make known his little woman that there’s a phone call instead of her, he’d ask you to ‘procure the apples and tell the nudnik she’s wanted on the dog.’

As a general observation, their genius is that the second dispatch of a rhyming modus loquendi is the element between the ‘translated’ word and the in the beginning advice in the rhyming couch, which becomes the word used when speaking. At times, notwithstanding that, to emphasize the confab, the entire phrase might be used. Ergo, if you are quite fagged and after to clear a point of it, you would burst out with, ‘I’m cream crackered!’ This is because ‘knackered’ is an English term on being whacked; cream crackers, incidenally, perform proficiently with tea.

There are sober-sided dictionaries for Cockney rhyming slang, from appropriate versions tailored for tourists to online listings. Two allowable sites for the latter are London Slang and Cockney Rhyming Slang. As with most slang, its vibrance is cause benefit of unremitting growth and/or modification of terms, so the Cockney rhymes are at all times a toil in progress.

One note of admonish: nothing sounds worse than a visitor attempting to over-Cockney their speech. If you’re belief of touring an East Uncommitted market or taproom and lack to reward your respects beside using the state spoken, be prepared with a few severe terms and deploy them with a beam only when the inducement permits. Otherwise, not being established if you’re ‘winsome the Mickey’ out of them or virtuous nescient, the Cockneys determination most right view you as a ‘promising Charley Ronce’ and turn away.

Settled that ‘ponce’ is common English slang in requital for a ninny-hammer — which had its origins in describing a ‘fancy gazabo,’ conditions known as a ‘pander’ in in style times — you may foremost lack a ‘British’ translator to demand that you what phrase the Cockney was using. Via that term, you’ll no suspicion to that Churchill wasn’t ‘alf Pete Tong (ie- wrong).

In truthfully, he didn’t monotonous need to refer to another country in ukase to be right.

Niche Jerk

December 7, 2009 - 11:34 am

Here is the first rule anyone learns who is even remotely concerned with marketing …

“Sell the sizzle and not the steak.”

In other words, an appeal to what excites the consumer is much more effective than the properties of the product. This is not necessarily deceptive. In many cases, products can be so similar that the only real difference among them is in their perception, ie- ’sizzle,’ by the public.

If ever anyone in cyberspace has excelled with this principle, it’s The Rich Jerk.

If you’ve done any significant cybercruising, you’ve surely encountered his promotional campaign. His spiel is impressively creative. He claims that he’s rich, not necessarily because he works harder than you, but because he’s better than you. As a result, he doesn’t really care what you think about him or whether you’re interested in buying his product. However, he makes it very clear that it’s due to his product that he can claim his arrogant superiority over you and everyone else.

The Rich Jerk could be the Don Rickles of the 21st century. He revels in spewing insults at his audience, and the more he wallows in rudeness, the more effective his message becomes. Some readers may not be amused by his angle, but most recognize that he goes so over the top with his approach that his point is made. He purports to be so financially free that it doesn’t matter what others think of him, and therein lies the sizzle.

The Rich Jerk’s product is a mere staple of cyberspace: he’s selling a work-at-home internet business concept. There’s nothing earth-shaking in his content. It’s basically the same as what everyone else in the genre is selling:

1) Find a product,

2) Get a website,

3) Promote the product,

4) Reap the profits.

The Rich Jerk has some leads that may expedite the process, but none of those are anything exceptional, either. Results will vary. Few will join him in richness.

Still, that’s not the Rich Jerk’s issue. His job is selling his product. He’s doing it legally and effectively. As far as I’m concerned, he’s merely selling the cyber-equivalent of bottled water; he’s taking something you can get for free, putting an aura around it and getting you to pay for it. Willingly.

Another principle taught in marketing is that of cognitive dissonance. Basically, this term infers that consumers have a tendency to justify their purchase of a product by noting its advantages to them and downplaying any disadvantages. For example, in this case, they’d say they’ve bought a step-by-step tutorial for getting into a work-at-home business and have saved time over anyone trying to gather all that information by themselves, even though the task can be done for free with a bit of search-engineering. Almost every positive comment I’ve seen about The Rich Jerk’s product confirms this tendency.

Thus, the Rich Jerk has his bases covered. His sizzle is alluring, his product may be obvious, but it’s legitimate and his aftermarket has afterglow.

Not only has the Rich Jerk seemingly done well for himself, he’s spawned a cottage industry for others. Copycats are abounding. So far, I’ve already seen ads for the Money King and The Rich Pig; more are probably on the way. They’re poor imitations, but in cyberspace, duplication is a successful form of flattery. They might actually profit from their near-plagiarism.

There is one facet of Jerkdom that is worth calling to your attention, though, which involves the third sales principle I’d like to mention: incentive marketing. This involves giving a consumer something for nothing, in some manner, in order to realize a profit.

Enter The Free Jerk. He’s offering to give you the Rich Jerk product, legally, in return for your simply reading his critique of it. That’s his product.

The Free Jerk profits because you’re going to first pay for the Rich Jerk’s product, after which The Free Jerk gives you a 100% rebate. In effect, he’s ’sharing’ the affiliate’s commission he receives from The Rich Jerk for your purchase. He makes up the financial difference — and then some — by directing your details, for another commission, to major cyberspace advertisers who see you as an ‘active’ cyber-consumer. Thus, he realizes a net profit and you get what becomes a ‘free’ copy of the Rich Jerk’s product. You also get directed to additional advertising, but The Free Jerk tells you in advance that it’s coming your way, so you do have a choice.

Thus, the Jerk industry is a niche of ironies. Sizzle is on sale, and if you’re so inclined, you can accept someone else’s sizzle in exchange for being exposed to further sizzle in order to acquire the original sizzle for nothing more than a bit of after-sizzle.

And while all this is in process, someone’s making money and everyone has the possibility of being satisfied with their end of the deal.

As the consumer who catalyzes this Jerk-a-thon, perhaps that makes you the Niche Jerk.

Marketing is indeed alive and well in cyberspace.

Chain of Fools

December 12, 2008 - 10:43 pm

It seems the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval has been replaced by Oprah Winfrey when it comes to a validation of credibility …

Having said that, if I’m not mistaken, all the former ever meant was that the product or service in question paid to advertise in Good Housekeeping magazine.

Still, in the vast anonymity of the cybermarket, a claim of credibility is vital to those who wish to convince us to send them money. Via her phenomenonally successful syndicated television show, Ms Winfrey’s excellence at accurately portraying causes, incidents and situations has earned her a lofty mantle as the Anointess of Authenticity.

We can even see this phenomenon at work on the Longer Life Group’s website that hosts my column, as there are products advertised which espouse her name. That’s fine, of course, as it’s easy for us to discern that the claims of these products are real in that respect (eg- Bob Greene really is her personal trainer). They are, no doubt, good products. If I ever feel the need to lose ten pounds in thirty days, I’ll give them a try.

However, in the wild world of cyber-commerce, it seems that some salesmen decided to take a shortcut in this process. They figured it was good enough to merely claim their product was featured on Oprah.

As you’ve maneuvered through the spam and detritus of cyberspace, it’s odds-on you’ve seen this headline:

‘As Seen On Oprah! Teenager Makes $71,000 by Mailing a Simple Letter!’

The sales pitch relates the tale of a kid who diligently sent God-knows-how-many chain letters and wound up with a closetful of $10 bills, or something like that. The pitch goes on to state that this story was also featured on an American newsmagazine, 20/20, and featured in the Wall Street Journal. However, those outlets are merely there for support. It’s Oprah that gives this story ‘legs,’ as they say in the movie business.

The object of the exercise is to induce you to buy into the chain by sending money to one or more of the names on a five-deep list, then removing the top name and adding your name to the bottom, so you can take your turn at collecting all that cash. You’re surely aware of the drill.

In theory, this works to an exponential level. Then again, in theory, so does communism in mass society.

Need I say more?

From my research, it’s false. Untrue. Never happened.

I went straight to the source and posed the question to the staff of Oprah, asking if any teenager ever appeared on the show and told how his chain letter made him $71,000 or more. Here’s the e-mail I received:

“Date: 10 Oct 09:04

“Dear Viewer,

“We don’t find any Oprah Show that talked about anyone making a fortune on a chain letter. References to chain letters include the cabbage soup diet, Mrs. Fields cookies and the Angel Network.”

“Thank you,

“Oprah Tapes and Transcripts”

While I do admit a temptation to start a chain letter in hopes of receiving sackfuls of Mrs Fields’ cookies by associating it with a real e-mail from Oprah’s staff — after which I would click on that ad featuring Bob Greene so I could buy his weight-loss program — my common sense tells me that it just wouldn’t work.

Still, the purpose of making such claims is to attempt to override your common sense, to get you to think that if Oprah gave credence to the story, then perhaps there is something to it. So, when the ‘target’ amount they want you to pay is set at the price of a couple of beers or a handful of lottery tickets, the hook is well and truly baited.

What a logical way for you to lose a few bucks! And you will. Whether you send out letters or e-mail, you will lose your money and look silly to your recipients while doing it. Again, we’ll discuss that next time.

For now, suffice it to say that as far as this story goes, I’m convinced that Oprah never aired it. The only reference we’ll confirm is that Aretha Franklin sang it.

‘Chain of Fools.’