7 posts tagged “inspiration”

The stories are different enough that one could not accuse the Hong Kong film-makers of outright copying, but there is clear inspiration between the English Ooh, You Are Awful (or Get Charlie Tully), starring Dick Emery, and the first of the successful franchise 最佳拍檔 (Aces Go Places). The films are 10 years apart.
   The plot lines are similar: in the original, Emery has to find a Swiss bank account number, separately tattooed on four different girls’ behinds. In the later film, Sam Hui (the father of Canto-pop) and Karl Maka’s characters have to find a map reference, tattooed on two different girls’ behinds. The following is of two very similar scenes, one set at Waterloo Station in London, the other at a taxi company’s radio department, and subsequent scenes involving photographic booths, where one might be able to claim there was a fair amount of direct copying. Emery is more blue, while the later film is more slapstick with better pacing.
   And yes, that is the lovely Cheryl Kennedy in the first clip.
   In the 1970s and 1980s, it was highly unlikely for Hong Kong cinemagoers to have seen the Emery film.
   Head to 2.45 for the above scene in the first video; 0.43 in the second clip.

You just have to admire some ad creatives. There are some ads that aren’t particularly relevant which come in through the networks, but this one on Lucire’s website is very entertaining:

Rock inspiration ad

Former British PM Rt Hon Tony Blair gave the graduation speech for Yale University this year. It was an inspiring, largely non-political address.

So, after 100 years of Class Days, finally you get a British speaker.
   What took you so long? Did that little disagreement of 1776 rankle so much? And why now? Is it because the British election campaigns only last four weeks long?
   For whatever reason, it is an honour to be here and to say to the Yale College Class of 2008: you did it; you came through; from all of us to all of you, congratulations, well done.
   The invitation to a former British prime minister to address a college which boasts five former presidents, many former vice presidents and senators too numerous to mention, is either to give me an exaggerated sense of my own importance or you a reduced sense of yours.
   It was Churchill or Oscar Wilde, and there is a difference, who called us ‘two nations divided by a common language’—actually it may have been George Bernard Shaw—and so we are. You try being in the European Union.
   I had an unfortunate experience earlier in my premiership, when doing a press conference with a French Prime Minister. I speak French, but not quite as well as I thought.  We decided to do the press conference live, in French. I was asked whether there were any policy positions of the French Prime Minister I desired to emulate. There is a particular phrase, in French, which you must use with care. I didn’t.
   I meant to say there are many different policies of the French Prime Minister that I desired to emulate. What I actually said was that I desire the French Prime Minister in many different positions.
   Anyway, here I am at Yale and set to come back for the fall semester. My old Oxford tutor was, I’m afraid, horrified to hear I had been taken on by Yale. His worries were all for Yale, I may say. He said, ‘I only hope for their sake you’re going there to learn rather than to teach.’
   Now, I know you Yale guys are smart. So what can I tell you that you don’t already think you know?
   I can tell you something of the world as I see it.
   Three days ago, in my role as Middle East envoy, I stood in the heart of Bethlehem. On one side of me lay the concrete barrier which now separates Israel and Palestine. On the other, the historic birthplace of Jesus and the land of Palestine beyond.
   A few days before that, I was in Jericho. If you look up from the town centre, to the left is the Mount of Temptation, where Jesus stayed 40 days and nights. To the right, you can see Mount Nebo where Moses looked down on the Promised Land. And right in front of you is the Valley of Jordan.
   My guide, a Muslim, turned to me, and said, ‘Moses, Jesus, Muhammad—why in God's name did they all have to come here?’
   But in God’s name, they came, and for centuries, their followers have waged war in the name of prophets whose life work was in pursuit of peace.
   Today, the land that encompasses Israel and Palestine, which is small, has the conflict symbolizes the wider prospects of the entire, vast region of the Middle East and beyond. There, the forces of modernization and moderation battle with those of reaction and extremism. The shadow of Iran looms large.
   What is at stake is immense. Will those who believe in peaceful coexistence triumph, matching the growing economic power and wealth with a politics and a culture at ease with the twenty-first century? Or will the victors be those that seek to use that economic wealth to create a politics and culture more relevant to the feudal Middle Ages?
   Thousands of miles from here, this struggle is being played out in the suburbs of Baghdad and Beirut and the Gaza Strip. But the impact of its outcome on our security here and way of life here will register in the core of our well-being.
   In fact, if I had to sum up my view of the world, I would say to you: turn your thoughts to the east. Not just to the Middle East. But to the Far East. For the first time in many centuries, power is moving east.
   China and India each have populations roughly double those of America and Europe combined. In the next two decades, those two countries together will undergo industrialization four times the size of the USA’s and at five times the speed.
   We must be mindful that as these ancient civilizations become somehow younger and more vibrant, our young civilization does not grow old. Most of all we should know that in this new world, we must clear a path to partnership, not stand off against each other, competing for power.
   The world in which you, in time to come, will take the reins, cannot afford a return to twentieth-century struggles for hegemony.
   The characteristic of this modern world is the pace and scope and scale of globalization. Globalization is driving the change and people are driving globalization.
   The consequence is that the world opens up, its boundaries diminish, we are pushed closer together. The conclusion is that we make it work together or not at all.
   The issues you must wrestle with—the threat of climate change, food scarcity, and population growth, worldwide terror based on religion, the interdependence of the world economy—my student generation would barely recognize. But the difference today is that they are all essentially global in nature.
   You understand this. Yale has become a melting pot of culture, language and civilization. You are the global generation. So be global citizens.
   Each new generation finds the world they enter. But they fashion the world they leave. So, what do you inherit and what do you pass on?
   The history of humankind is marked by great events but it’s written by great people. People like you.
   Given Yale’s record of achievement, perhaps by you.
   At this point, I would like to thank the seniors, who invited my son Euan to the Yale naked parties. I would like to thank my son Euan for having refused the invitation.
   So to you as individuals, what wisdom, if any, have I learned?
   First, in fact, keep learning. Always be alive to the possibilities of the next experience, of thinking, doing and being.
   When the Buddha was asked, near the end of his life, to describe his secret, he answered bluntly, ‘I’m awake.’
   So be awake.
   Understand conventional wisdom, but be prepared to change it.
   Feel as well as analyse. Use your instinct alongside your reason. Calculate too much and you miscalculate. Be prepared to fail as well as to succeed, because it is failure, not success, that defines character.
   I spent years trying to be a politician, failing at every attempt and nearly gave up. I know you’re thinking: I should have. Sir Paul McCartney reminded me that the first record company the Beatles approached rejected them as a band no one would want to listen to.
   Be good to people on your way up, because you never know if you will meet them again on your way down.
   Judge someone by how they treat those below them not those above them.
   Be a firm friend, not a fair-weather friend. It’s your friendships, including those here at Yale, at this time, that will sustain and enrich the human spirit.
   A good test of a person is who turns up at their funeral and with what sincerity. Try not to sit the test too early, of course.
   Recently, I attended a funeral, and the speaker said he would like to begin by reading a list of all those whose funerals he would rather have been attending, but the list was too long. It was kind of a sweet compliment to our friend.
   Alternatively, there was Spike Milligan, the quintessential English comic who, when he was asked what he would like as the epitaph on his tombstone, replied, ‘They should write: “I told you I was ill.”’
   There was a colleague of mine in the British Parliament who once asked another, ‘Why do people take such an instant dislike to me?’ and got the reply, ‘Because it saves time.’
   So, when others think of you, let them think not with their lips, but their hearts, of a good friend and a gracious acquaintance.
   Above all, however, have a purpose in life. Life is not about living but about striving. When you get up, get up motivated. Live with a perpetual sense of urgency. And make at least part of that purpose about something bigger than you.
   There are great careers. There are also great causes. At least let some of them into your lives. Giving lifts the heart in a way that getting never can. Maybe it really was Oscar Wilde who said, ‘No one ever died saying, “If only I had one more day at the office.”’
   One small but shocking sentence: each year, three million children die in Africa from preventable disease or conflict. The key word? Preventable.
   When all is said and done, there is usually more said than done. So be a doer, not a commentator. Seek responsibility rather than shirk it.
   People often ask me about leadership. And I say: leadership is about wanting the responsibility to be on your shoulders, not ignoring its weight but knowing someone has to carry it, and reaching out for that person to be you. Leaders are heat-seekers, not heat-deflectors.
   And luck?
   You have all the luck you need. You are here, at Yale, and what, apart from the hats, could be better?
   And you have something else: your parents.
   You know, when you are your age, you can never imagine being our age. But believe me, when you’re our age, we remember clearly being your age. That’s why I am so careful about young men and my daughter: ‘Don’t tell me what you're thinking. I know what you’re thinking.’
   But as a parent, let me tell you something about parents. Despite all rational impulses, despite all evidence to the contrary, despite what we think you do to us and what you think we do to you—and yes, it is often hell on both sides—the plain, unvarnished truth is that we love you. Simply, profoundly and utterly.
   I remember, back in the mists of time my Dad greeting me off the train at Durham Railway Station. I was a student at Oxford. Oxford and Cambridge are for Britain kind of like Yale and Harvard, only more so. It was a big deal. I had been away for my first year and I was coming home.
   I stepped off the train. My hair was roughly the length of Rumpelstiltskin’s, and unwashed. I had no shoes and no shirt. My jeans were torn, and this was in the days before this became a fashion item. Worst of all, we had just moved house. Mum had thrown out the sitting room drapes. I had retrieved them and made a sleeveless long coat with them.
   My Dad greeted me. There were all his friends at the station. Beside me, their kids looked like paragons of respectability.
   He saw the drapes. He visibly winced. They did kind of stand out. I took pity on him.
   ‘Dad,’ I said. ‘There’s good news. I don’t do drugs.’
   My Dad looked me in the eye and said, ‘Son, the bad news is if you’re looking like this and you’re not doing drugs, we’ve got a real problem.’
   Your parents look at you today with love. They know how hard it is to make the grade and they respect you for making it.
   And tomorrow, as I know, as a parent of one of the graudate classes, as you receive your graduation, their hearts will beat with the natural rhythm of pride. Pride in what you have achieved. Pride in who you are.
   They will be nervous for you as you stand on the threshold of a new adventure, for they know the many obstacles that lie ahead.
   But they will be confident that you can surmount those obstacles, for they know also the strength of character and of spirit that has taken you thus far.
   So, to my fellow parents, I say: let us rejoice and be glad together. And to the Yale College Class of 2008, I say: well done, and may blessings and good fortune be yours in all the years to come.

At Wyldreams’ suggestion (or inspiration) I have set up a group for idealists on Vox. The premise: if porn, gossip and related crap can so easily get propagated online, why not inspirational messages and idealist thoughts about how our world can be run? And if we all post our ideas there, and others can read them, then maybe we can start effecting some positive change? Please consider joining and posting.
   Note: I know politics may enter it but let’s try to not make things divisive, please.

http://idealists.groups.vox.com

Pass the word!

[Cross-posted] For six years, I have been telling people how fab Stefan Engeseth’s Detective Marketing is. Now, here’s your chance to get the fourth edition for free and judge for yourself.
   Three hundred thousand people have already made this book a real success for Stefan (and most had to pay!), and if the fourth goes well, he promises a fifth. I personally cannot wait.
   The genius of the book is that you can flip open to any page, and if you allow your imagination free reign, you can get truly inspired. Stefan has made it very easy to absorb. I remember reading the whole 176 pp. in one sitting when he marketed the second edition back in the early 2000s and have returned to it and the third edition frequently to get inspired for marketing and management.

Maybe it’s the close relationship I have with my own father, but some great father-and-son stories have surfaced quite a bit of late. This one, on Jeff Risley’s site, takes some beating. (“Hat tip” to Johnnie Moore.)

Robin Capper has a synopsis of a radio story on Vox at his blog, where the commentators referred to it as a service for newbies. I am not sure I agree with that: everyone who is on Vox, that I know of, is a seasoned blogger, but I will say that if one were a newbie, this is a great way to start. The predefined templates are pretty solid, the overall interface is great, and I am sure it will seduce many a potential blogger from the start. 
   I think the major problem with Vox is that no one from Six Apart has really come forth to tell us what it’s for. When Robin first invited me, I looked around vox.com and could find nothing. Maybe Six Apart doesn’t know itself and is leaving it loose—something that I, too, recommend dot coms do, and plan around the evolving nature of a business. However, knowing the initial inspiration, the impetus, for creating Vox would be useful to me.

Update: Six Apart does have something about it on its company blog, but I needed to Google “What is Vox?” to find it. I can sort of see its point, but I don’t need to control who sees my stuff that badly. Still, I can appreciate how this would work—especially my more private thoughts that I don’t want going out into the blogosphere in general.