"No Motto Please, We're British"

I feel bad that I always pick on the Brits, but it can be difficult to avoid. Sometimes they just bring it on themselves, with their properness and whatnot. Anyway, I suppose it's to be expected.... Do robins get along with eagles? Not really.

In any case, today I neutrally share that Britain has decided, as part of some new measures to "boost pride" [Insert your own quip here], they would like to develop a motto. The Times of London had a motto-writing contest for the general public, and among the top suggestions were "One Mighty Empire, Slightly Used," "We Apologize for the Inconvenience," and (the winner) "No Motto, Please, We're British." Love that dry British humor. (Really!)

Until today, I had thought the motto of the United States was the first sentence I learned in Latin, the one that Latin teachers like to point out first to illustrate "Latin is everywhere," the phrase stamped optimistically on American currency -- i.e., E pluribus unum (Out of many, one). But, actually, I regret to inform you, Congress passed a law making in 1956 making In God We Trust the official motto. (Congress was certainly busy making all kinds of symbolic rhetorical changes at this time, weren't they?) 

How do you reduce an entire nation into a single phrase that means anything? Since America no longer has anything very special, maybe Britain should follow Switzerland's example.  Their motto -- Unus pro omnibus, omnes pro uno! (One for all, all for one!) -- is everything you could ever want a slogan to be: elegant, enthusiastic, hip, and Latin.  

Pop quiz

To an Italian, which one of these is pep(p)eroni pizza?

Bus blurb #2

Since, really, what else is there to do on a bus if you can't eavesdrop on conversations, I've spent a lot of time looking at what little there is to see. "New: If you didn't receive proper change at the ticket machine, please retain your ticket and contact the main office in Lugano centro."  "80 CHF fine for riding without a ticket."  "This step is not a trampoline."

A new set of promotional ads for the bus system recently meant new visual fodder for curious americani. (Never mind that the only people who see these ads are already on the bus and thus likely already convinced.) After a few rides, I started to notice something funny these posters, something off. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was not right with that girl striding confidently with her shopping bags. And with the "Convenient...for meeting someone" guy in the gray suit.

And then I realized it. A pernicious little design trick they thought no one would notice. Yes, a careful examination proved the undeniable truth: someone had swapped out the heads in these ads. The shopping girl's long arms and big shoulders, her anomalous shrug, the businessman's tiny head, the way the suit seemed just a touch too old for his age -- it all made sense. 

I am not a designer, but I'm pretty sure that head-swapping, although perfectly appropriate for Fashion Plates, should not be done in real life advertising unless it can be done properly (i.e., so we never know). It has to be a design faux pas up there with scaling a photo incorrectly and getting font happy.  But maybe someone with a degree can corroborate.

In the crockpot

Today's post needed to stew a bit longer. Perhaps it will be ready later after work.

Bus blurb #1

There are a lot of things to complain about when you consider the public transportation in Chicago, but lack of visual interest is not one of them. No matter what form of transport you choose, you've got layers of advertisements, graffiti, warnings, policies, and maps to look at. I've whiled away entire trips gazing up at those gauche rectangles of brightly colored marketing. Who is this Robert Morris, exactly? He sounds like my next-door neighbor. Why is it that women in equivalent positions still don't make as much men, and why are they making me mad about this on the train? And does anyone actually do those sleep studies offered by Rush University?

Who has not spent a few moments considering who it was that took the time to carve that four-letter word into the window? Or where gangs get those thick markers they use to... claim the sought-after fourth car of red line run 842? (Do they fight over who has to take the pink line, do you think? Why on earth, by the way, did they pick that girl's essay on the pink line to win the "Name the New Line" contest? I heard it. It was not a winner.)

If I'm not too distracted by stuffing coming out of the duct-taped crack in the seat in front of me, I also like to read "The Passenger's Bill of Rights" each time I am in a cab. I find I am always impressed by how much we riders are entitled to. My admiration is always immediately ascribed to Mayor Daley, whose anachronistically young face is conveniently right there on the page waiting for credit.

Well. The situation is much different in Switzerland. You have to look hard to even see that someone wants your attention. Please, sir, if you're not too busy, sir, and you have nothing else to look at, perhaps, maybe you're interested to hear about this new bus route we're starting? Swiss ads whisper where American ads scream and wave their arms.

But what advertisements on Lugano buses lack in quantity, frenzy, and seediness, they make up for with usefulness and tact. Just like the billboards, the bus ads are tastefully sized, no bigger than a sheet of paper. They advertise new bus routes, local festivals, the convenience of public transportation. Useful! But oh so boring.