Big posts, little posts

It’s been a fair while since I posted, hasn’t it? There’s pretty much one reason for that: Twitter. I used to think the term “microblogging” was a bit bullshitty, but actually, I do seem to post all my cool links there these days rather than do a whole post about them.

It’s daft really. I always feel pressured to do a whole load of spiel to go with everything I post (probably from English lessons at school. Can’t turn in anything less than two A4 sides!), but I personally prefer the blogs that just say “Here’s something cool” with a couple of lines about it. Wordy posts tend to get skipped in my Google Reader. That’s probably heresy for a copywriter to admit, but I know the majority of the internet is with me, so we might as well all face the truth. If you’re just sharing a cool link or picture or video, no-one’s going to read a thesis about it unless they suspect you have something really interesting to add.

Of course, there are some wordy posts in my Google Reader that always get read. Adland Suit’s brilliant ranty posts, Charlie Brooker’s brilliant ranty posts, and stuff I happen to be interested in. But when the post is just showing off a cool piece of content, Twitter proves you really don’t need more than a line or two to go with it.

So, on that note, here’s a cool (if slightly gory) way of using packaging to get a message across:

[via The Dieline]

And here’s my opinion: great idea, with one big problem. When has a ketchup packet ever ripped open the way it’s supposed to? I’d be willing to bet that kid’s been disembowelled, bitten, and hacked at with knives to get at his ketchuppy insides by now. Landmines have got nothing on the savagery I’ve seen in McDonald’s of a lunchtime.

Help. I am jealous.

How beautiful are these?

In a market full of bizarre names and endless disclaimers, these simple and sweet pill packages stand out a mile. The decision to focus on the problem is inspired, leading off the insight that people who need pain relief or sticking plasters are thinking about their pain, not the product. When my head’s killing me and I go to buy something to relieve it, I’m thinking “my head’s killing me” not “I’m looking for something in a caplet, ideally with caffeine and a white sugar coating”. I’ll reach for the nearest thing that says “I will take the ouch away”. These do exactly that.

So you pick up the box. You turn it over. Usually you’re rewarded with a huge list of claims, often in tickbox form, or an interrogation: “Nose running? Head exploding? Teeth slowly turning turquoise?” followed by the aforementioned huge list of claims.

Instead, you get this:

or this:

or this:

And all that legal stuff hidden away under the label. Because most people don’t need to know all the ins and outs – just that they have a headache and this will take it away. And a little chuckle when you’re feeling rubbish doesn’t hurt, either.

I wish everything could be so simple and focussed.

[lovelypackage]