Are you feeling blue today? (Note: conditions may vary depending upon language stated)
Blue in English informally means "sad"
Blue in German (blau) informally means "drunk"
Blue in Swedish (blå) informally means "naïve"
Blue in Latvian (zils) informally means "gay"
So, which blue are you?
3.22.2010
3.14.2010
Market Correctness and Corporate Nomenclature
Let me begin with the story of a corporation that just wanted to be whole again. And who wouldn’t want that, considering that corporations are just people too! The tale begins in 1870 with the founding of Standard Oil by John D. Rockefeller and others. Through fierce competition and by circumventing strict state laws regarding chartered corporations (Standard Oil was originally an Ohio corporation) through acting as a trust and registering in less restrictive states, Standard Oil gained a huge market share. It paid off; in 1890 Standard Oil controlled the flow of 88% of all refined petroleum in the United States—a near total monopoly. But this same fateful year a law was passed—the Sherman Antitrust Act—which empowered the federal government to go after firms that operated as monopolies or cartels. It did so with a vengeance years later when the Supreme Court ruled in Standard Oil Co. of New Jersey v. United States that Standard Oil sought to act as a monopoly and restrain trade and commerce in petroleum and that therefore it must be broken up.
Like a group of orphans shunted off to different foster families following the death of their parents, 34 new companies emerged from their former parent corporation. These were largely centered in one state or region and included: Standard Oil of New Jersey, Standard Oil of New York, Standard Oil of California, Standard Oil of Indiana, Standard Oil of Kentucky, Standard Oil of Ohio, and the Continental Oil Company, among others. Don’t recognize any of these? Well, like children, as they grew up they began to assert their individual identities. And just like a person can change his/her name, a corporation can too! So, by the mid-to-late 20th century, Standard Oil of NJ had become Exxon, Standard Oil of NY – Mobil, Standard Oil of CA – Chevron, and Standard Oil of IN – Amoco. As the years went by, a sort of family reunion began to occur; Chevron acquired Standard Oil of KY as well as the unrelated Texaco, while Standard Oil of Ohio and another Standard sibling named Atlantic Petroleum were reunited as part of BP. But the biggest of these reunions transpired in 1999, when Exxon and Mobil merged to form ExxonMobil, which followed in its parent corporation’s footsteps by becoming the world’s largest corporation by market capitalization in 2006.
As I once said, “names have power.” And the intangible and mutable nature of names means that this power can be twisted very easily to selfish and destructive ends. In the little tale I wove above, I another strain of “market correctness” can be detected. In the days of yore, corporations had to be chartered by a state or local government, and would have a name that reflected either the nature and scope of their work or the name of their founder. The breakup of Standard Oil came because its monopolistic and anti-competitive behavior was harming the common good. The names assigned to its successors stipulated not only their origin (from the corpse of their parent corporation), but that they were meant to have a more limited scope, geographically and in the marketplace. I believe that the gradual abandonment of their original names in no small part facilitated their reunification. For example, while the merger of Exxon and Mobil into one of the world's largest and most powerful corporations raised some eyebrows, just think of the public indignation if that merger had been between Standard Oil of New Jersey and Standard Oil of New York.
This is a trend that goes far beyond the petroleum industry. The United Fruit Company is rightfully known as a particularly brutal and corrupt corporation—commonly called el pulpo ("the octopus") in Latin America, the firm massacred up to 2000 striking Colombian banana plantation workers in 1928, led the effort to overthrow democratically-elected President Arbenz of Guatemala in 1954, and paid millions of dollars in bribes to Honduras' military strongman president in the early 1970s. Yet, few outside Latin America remember this today since United Fruit became United Brands and finally Chiquita Brands in the 1980s, with a light-hearted image of a fruit-bedecked woman as its logo. Had Chiquita remained United Fruit, I suspect they would have a far more difficult time in the marketplace.
Perhaps the most egregious recent example is the transformation that Philip Morris underwent last decade. With mounting public opposition toward the tobacco industry in general and Philip Morris in particular, a PR strategy was needed to revive the declining profitabilty of the brand (and ending the negative practices in which the firm was engaging was, of course, out of the question). Philip Morris USA had already been trying to diversify its portfolio, acquiring Kraft foods (and all of its brands and subsidiaries) in 1988. But this was not enough to halt the damage caused by the brand's reputation. Thus, in 2003, Phillip Morris Companies created and fell under the umbrella of the Altria Group, effectively giving birth to its own parent. The name, derived from the word for "high" in Latin, was coupled with a new logo that is nothing more than a rainbow checkered square. Both of these were meant to emphasize the diversity of products offered by the reformed Philip "Altria" Morris. The ploy seems to have worked—despite a dip during the financial crisis, revenue and stock prices have generally been on the rise since the rebranding.
Like a group of orphans shunted off to different foster families following the death of their parents, 34 new companies emerged from their former parent corporation. These were largely centered in one state or region and included: Standard Oil of New Jersey, Standard Oil of New York, Standard Oil of California, Standard Oil of Indiana, Standard Oil of Kentucky, Standard Oil of Ohio, and the Continental Oil Company, among others. Don’t recognize any of these? Well, like children, as they grew up they began to assert their individual identities. And just like a person can change his/her name, a corporation can too! So, by the mid-to-late 20th century, Standard Oil of NJ had become Exxon, Standard Oil of NY – Mobil, Standard Oil of CA – Chevron, and Standard Oil of IN – Amoco. As the years went by, a sort of family reunion began to occur; Chevron acquired Standard Oil of KY as well as the unrelated Texaco, while Standard Oil of Ohio and another Standard sibling named Atlantic Petroleum were reunited as part of BP. But the biggest of these reunions transpired in 1999, when Exxon and Mobil merged to form ExxonMobil, which followed in its parent corporation’s footsteps by becoming the world’s largest corporation by market capitalization in 2006.
As I once said, “names have power.” And the intangible and mutable nature of names means that this power can be twisted very easily to selfish and destructive ends. In the little tale I wove above, I another strain of “market correctness” can be detected. In the days of yore, corporations had to be chartered by a state or local government, and would have a name that reflected either the nature and scope of their work or the name of their founder. The breakup of Standard Oil came because its monopolistic and anti-competitive behavior was harming the common good. The names assigned to its successors stipulated not only their origin (from the corpse of their parent corporation), but that they were meant to have a more limited scope, geographically and in the marketplace. I believe that the gradual abandonment of their original names in no small part facilitated their reunification. For example, while the merger of Exxon and Mobil into one of the world's largest and most powerful corporations raised some eyebrows, just think of the public indignation if that merger had been between Standard Oil of New Jersey and Standard Oil of New York.
This is a trend that goes far beyond the petroleum industry. The United Fruit Company is rightfully known as a particularly brutal and corrupt corporation—commonly called el pulpo ("the octopus") in Latin America, the firm massacred up to 2000 striking Colombian banana plantation workers in 1928, led the effort to overthrow democratically-elected President Arbenz of Guatemala in 1954, and paid millions of dollars in bribes to Honduras' military strongman president in the early 1970s. Yet, few outside Latin America remember this today since United Fruit became United Brands and finally Chiquita Brands in the 1980s, with a light-hearted image of a fruit-bedecked woman as its logo. Had Chiquita remained United Fruit, I suspect they would have a far more difficult time in the marketplace.
Perhaps the most egregious recent example is the transformation that Philip Morris underwent last decade. With mounting public opposition toward the tobacco industry in general and Philip Morris in particular, a PR strategy was needed to revive the declining profitabilty of the brand (and ending the negative practices in which the firm was engaging was, of course, out of the question). Philip Morris USA had already been trying to diversify its portfolio, acquiring Kraft foods (and all of its brands and subsidiaries) in 1988. But this was not enough to halt the damage caused by the brand's reputation. Thus, in 2003, Phillip Morris Companies created and fell under the umbrella of the Altria Group, effectively giving birth to its own parent. The name, derived from the word for "high" in Latin, was coupled with a new logo that is nothing more than a rainbow checkered square. Both of these were meant to emphasize the diversity of products offered by the reformed Philip "Altria" Morris. The ploy seems to have worked—despite a dip during the financial crisis, revenue and stock prices have generally been on the rise since the rebranding.
All of these related tales communicate to me the superficiality of our age as language becomes more euphemistic and meaningless. The malleability of the English language is facilitating corporations to use their command of it to deceive us and profit from our ignorance. If nothing is done about this, profits will continue to rise for these corporations, but the common good will suffer further. To stop this, we of course need to challenge and end the dispicable notion of corporate personhood. But that is a difficult structural battle against which the vast moneyed interests will fight tooth and nail. Another part of this is fighting for the survival of the English language by rejecting market correctness. Whenever someone says "Chiquita," you say "United Fruit." Wherever someone writes "ExxonMobil," you write "Standard Oil." And whenever you see an Altria logo in all of its nondescript blandness, draw a big old cigarette over it in permanent marker. It's the volid thing to do, and more importantly I think, the societally beneficial thing to do.
2.25.2010
The Flag You Should Have: Lithuania
So, Lithuania, you're up! Now that your northern neighbor and fellow Baltic culture Latvia has been featured in a previous segment of “The Flag You Should Have”, I do believe it is your turn to be evaluated vexillogically (and volidly). Let’s begin, shall we…
Another tricolour, eh? Admittedly, I do like the colors—they make for a pleasant combination. But, you do realize that you share the exact same set of colors with Bolivia, Ghana, Ethiopia, Mali, Togo, Cameroon, Benin, Senegal, São Tomé and Príncipe, Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, and the Republic of the Congo, right? I’m sure you didn’t intend to coincide with one version of the “Pan-African colors,” but here we are. Additionally, I will point out that the exact same flag as yours serves as the official flag of the department of Bolívar, Colombia. It’s worth adding as well that no one really knows why these colors were chosen. Ostensibly, they were selected due to their frequent use in traditional Lithuanian crafts, but other theories abound. Some say that "yellow stands for grain, green for forests, and red for the blood shed in defense of the nation." Regardless, the current flag was created ex nihilo at the turn of the 20th century by Lithuanian national activists, following the model that emerged from the French Revolution, that every nation needed a tricolour.
Another tricolour, eh? Admittedly, I do like the colors—they make for a pleasant combination. But, you do realize that you share the exact same set of colors with Bolivia, Ghana, Ethiopia, Mali, Togo, Cameroon, Benin, Senegal, São Tomé and Príncipe, Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, and the Republic of the Congo, right? I’m sure you didn’t intend to coincide with one version of the “Pan-African colors,” but here we are. Additionally, I will point out that the exact same flag as yours serves as the official flag of the department of Bolívar, Colombia. It’s worth adding as well that no one really knows why these colors were chosen. Ostensibly, they were selected due to their frequent use in traditional Lithuanian crafts, but other theories abound. Some say that "yellow stands for grain, green for forests, and red for the blood shed in defense of the nation." Regardless, the current flag was created ex nihilo at the turn of the 20th century by Lithuanian national activists, following the model that emerged from the French Revolution, that every nation needed a tricolour.
2.12.2010
The Ultimate Personals Ad
As we approach the anniversary of the Martyrdom of Saint Valentine, what are the youth of our Nation doing more of besides looking for love? And in what manner are they communicating with one another, if not in short, confusing sequences of letters? One should also not overlook the fondness of our Young People for clever little slogans, of the sort which can be reprinted on a t-shirt and make a filler kid feel cooler than he is. Thus, I present to you the ultimate personals ad header for the 21st century:
"XY seeking XX for XXX"
It's compact, direct, clever (in the manner of things learned in Biology class and subsequently forgotten), easily reversed (for the ladies as well as those suffering from Klinefelter's syndrome), and memorable. Perfect for that individual, "craig," and his list, or even one of those old-fashioned "news papers." You never know, this might even be the quip that finally gets the attention of that shalimar who has been ignoring you thus far. If so, be sure to thank your friends at the Volidity Report...
"XY seeking XX for XXX"
It's compact, direct, clever (in the manner of things learned in Biology class and subsequently forgotten), easily reversed (for the ladies as well as those suffering from Klinefelter's syndrome), and memorable. Perfect for that individual, "craig," and his list, or even one of those old-fashioned "news papers." You never know, this might even be the quip that finally gets the attention of that shalimar who has been ignoring you thus far. If so, be sure to thank your friends at the Volidity Report...
1.31.2010
Market Correctness
Names have power, despite their intangible nature. Romeo and Juliet’s respective surnames were enough to doom their love in Shakespeare’s eponymous work. Naturally, one might hope that a name should not act as a burden, and ought to be changed if a more equitable title can be found. But there is a danger to changing names; as American (and Western society in general) becomes increasingly euphemistic, a whole host of terms and concepts are made meaningless. George Orwell is often overcited in critiques of language, but his rather underused essay “Politics and the English Language” has much to offer to those interested.
In this essay, Orwell makes the contention that the English language—and thus the very ideas of people who communicate in that language—is under threat. He states:
Of course, the argument that he is making in a academic and polemical manner here is the same that would later pervade his most famous novel, 1984. Because ideas must be transmitted through a language, alterations to that language may transform or limit certain ideas in the public sphere and eventually in people's minds. Specifically for the purposes of this post, I will recite Orwell's fifth rule provided in the essay: "Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent." Let's see if we have since learned from Orwell's example..."...the decline of a language must ultimately have political and economic causes...But an effect can become a cause, reinforcing the original cause and producing the same effect in an intensified form, and so on indefinitely...It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts."
In the cold waters of the south seas along the Southern Cone of South America lived a humble fish called the Patagonian toothfish. Lightly fished for local consumption, and with international fisheries only interested in harvesting small quantities to be ground up into cat food, the toothfish persevered as it had for millennia. Then, in the 1990s, businessmen in the United States rebranded the fish “Chilean Sea Bass,” which immediately became a trendy favorite at seafood restaurants. Stocks of the slow-growing fish have since been devastated by overfishing, which has also had the side-effect of killing hundreds of thousands of seabirds a year. By merely having its name changed, this species has gone from obscurity to in-demand commodity toward becoming an endangered species.
The toothfish is not the only species that has been renamed for marketing purposes. Dolphin-fish, presumably to remove any association with the beloved mammal of the same name, has become “mahi-mahi.” Yet the choice of the fish’s Hawaiian language name seems in total a cynical one made in order to produce as exotic- and desirable-sounding a name as possible; the Spanish language name already occasionally in use, “dorado,” was thus passed over for mahi-mahi. It should be noted that not all name-changes are cynical marketing ploys—for example, the renaming of jewfish to goliath grouper—and these can be positive changes. Furthermore, species are often reclassified once research reveals new taxonomic connections. However, superficial name changes made for marketing purposes seem on the rise and increasingly accepted without a word of protest from the general public.
But renamed fish are only a small part of a much wider trend. Take one of the most consumed cooking oils in North America, canola oil. “Canola,” however, is not the name of any plant, as one might assume. The etymology of the name, bizarrely enough, is the term "Canadian oil, low acid"[!]. The seemingly Soviet acronym was adopted because the traditional name of the plant from which canola was derived is "rapeseed." Thus, a plant variety in the United States has essentially disappeared from the public mind—replaced with a bland acronym-contraction—for the reason that a product derived from a plant with the word "rape" in its name is not sufficiently marketable to consumers.
The situation becomes even more absurd in the realm of pharmaceuticals. In the past, names of drugs were often related chemically or biologically to their source or active ingredient (e.g. Penicillin, from the Penicillium fungus, or for example the antihistamines I frequently take: Chlortrimeton, from chlorphenamine maleate or Sudafed, from pseudoephedrine). But now euphemism is the rule of the day: an aminoketone called buproprion becomes the trade drug "Wellbutrin," ibandronate sodium becomes "Bonviva." These names have no relation to their chemical bases and merely sound pleasant to the ear—Wellbutrin, an anti-depressant, makes you "well" and Bonviva, meant to prevent osteoperosis, gives you a "good life." Even if the FDA eventually rejected the trade name "Bonviva," GlaxoSmithKline settled for the similarly meaningless and euphemistic "Boniva."
In the United States, political hay is frequently made over "political correctness." Despite the shrill complaints of right-wing culture warriors, many terms that have changed have done so for the purposes of creating a more neutral, inclusive, and (generally speaking) accurate terminology (e.g. [American] Indian→Native American, [mentally] retarded→mentally challenged/disabled). Conversely, the euphemistic and arbitrary language described in this post exists for no reason other than profit. Reviewing the evidence here, the more muddled and removed from reality a concept is, the more marketable it becomes. My objection to this is not merely its excessive effigeousness, but that these made-up words can have very real and rather negative consequences. Speaking as the compiler of the Fictionary and its amusing/somewhat useful slang, I can say that the public sphere deserves better than this unclear and insincere language. I'm with Orwell, let's avoid such language that leads us to have foolish thoughts. And one of the most serious sources of this is not political correctness, but what I shall henceforth term "market correctness." And if that sounds a bit forced and unnatural, well, let's just call it "made-up nonsense."
1.13.2010
SIGNVM MERETRICVLAE
I've often said that the human body is a canvas, and not just because if one took human skin, dried and tanned it, then one could use it as a canvas for painting. That would be gross! No, I speak of the ancient art of tattooing.
Recently, I thought of the best tattoo idea ever. It is also extremely volid! Additionally, it is meant for females—of which I happen not to be one—so listen up ladies! We have witnessed the rise of lower back tattoos, derogatively referred to as "tramp stamps," into the mainstream. More people are getting them than ever before, with 24% of Americans between the ages of 18 and 50 possessing at least one. For most, a tattoo is something that has serious meaning and significance in their life. By contrast, this tattoo idea is for people who are willing to go further and get their tattoo ironically. So, I present to you, the best tattoo idea ever—to be inked on the lower back of a female human being:
Isn't it wonderful? Oh, not a classicist? I see. Well, "signum meretriculae" means something close to "tramp stamp" (literally: "mark of a little harlot") in Latin. It is self-referential, yet mocks the effigeous trend of putting "meaningful" phrases in some foreign language on one's body. Basically, it is like the intentional tattoo that reads "pork fried rice" in Chinese, but so much better. So, any takers? I won't even charge royalties...
Recently, I thought of the best tattoo idea ever. It is also extremely volid! Additionally, it is meant for females—of which I happen not to be one—so listen up ladies! We have witnessed the rise of lower back tattoos, derogatively referred to as "tramp stamps," into the mainstream. More people are getting them than ever before, with 24% of Americans between the ages of 18 and 50 possessing at least one. For most, a tattoo is something that has serious meaning and significance in their life. By contrast, this tattoo idea is for people who are willing to go further and get their tattoo ironically. So, I present to you, the best tattoo idea ever—to be inked on the lower back of a female human being:
SIGNVM MERETRICVLAE
Isn't it wonderful? Oh, not a classicist? I see. Well, "signum meretriculae" means something close to "tramp stamp" (literally: "mark of a little harlot") in Latin. It is self-referential, yet mocks the effigeous trend of putting "meaningful" phrases in some foreign language on one's body. Basically, it is like the intentional tattoo that reads "pork fried rice" in Chinese, but so much better. So, any takers? I won't even charge royalties...
1.06.2010
The Flag You Should Have: Latvia
(a fun new series from The Volidity Report!)
Latvija, tu zini, ka es tevi mīlu, bet mums ir jārunā... ("Latvia, you know that I love you, but we have to talk..."). Your flag is pretty cool, but I think the time has come for change. Sure, the legend behind it is rather neat—in which a medieval Latvian tribal chief was wrapped in a white sheet, which was stained red with his blood and subsequently used as a banner that led his warriors to victory—but that can only do so much. And I know, it's only been an official flag for 42 years of history (1918-1940; 1990-present), but I think there are some significant problems surrounding it.
Latvija, tu zini, ka es tevi mīlu, bet mums ir jārunā... ("Latvia, you know that I love you, but we have to talk..."). Your flag is pretty cool, but I think the time has come for change. Sure, the legend behind it is rather neat—in which a medieval Latvian tribal chief was wrapped in a white sheet, which was stained red with his blood and subsequently used as a banner that led his warriors to victory—but that can only do so much. And I know, it's only been an official flag for 42 years of history (1918-1940; 1990-present), but I think there are some significant problems surrounding it.
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