Meet Dom Raso. He totally isn't reading a teleprompter. He would also like you to know that you can't trust the media, but you should trust him because he totally doesn't have a political agenda.
Mr. Raso works for NRA News. He is also a Navy Seal veteran, wearing a t-shirt promoting Operation Hawkeye, an organization that works for honour and recognition of special operations soldiers killed in the line of duty.
Operation Hawkeye, in turn, gets support from Nike. Which explains the logo on the shirt.
Buzzfeed reports that this complaint letter is framed at Nike headquarters. I remember when that ad came out, and it was actually a really big deal that an actual song by The Beatles had been "sold out" to sell shoes.
John Lennon had been dead for almost seven years at that point, and the publishing rights to most Beatles-era Lennon-McCartney songs had been purchased by Michael Jackson in 1985. In an unprecedented move, Wieden+Kennedy paid paid $250,000 to Michael Jackson and another $250,000 to Capitol Records which held the North American licensing rights to The Beatles’ recordings.
Apparently, Paul, George and Ringo were not happy about it. Through their record company, Apple, (which would later fight with Apple Computers) filed a lawsuit in July 1987. They named Nike, Wieden+Kennedy, and Capitol-EMI Records for $15 million in damages. It was settled out-of-court for an undisclosed sum.
The real revolution — of advertisers using the borrowed interest of unaltered classic songs for campaigns — was unstoppable. It's now almost inconceivable to imagine a time when new and old hits were not repurposed as anthems for big brands. Even though it is pretty lazy creative, when you think about it.
And the letter? The imgr source cuts off the signature. But one thing I can say for sure, is that he or she was also a Monty Python fan.
Classic British sportswear brand Umbro has been supplying the official "kit" to England's football (soccer) teams since the 1950s. That's a big deal to the fans, according to The Daily Mail:
When Blackpool and Bolton Wanderers contested the Matthews Final in 1953, they did so wearing Umbro. When a 17-year-old Pele entered the world stage at the World Cup in 1958, he did so in Umbro tailoring.
When Bobby Moore lifted the Jules Rimet trophy for England in 1966, he wore a red Umbro shirt, and when Celtic and Manchester United pioneered European club success for Britain in the sixties, they were head to toe in Umbro.
When Banks made that improbable save in 1970, when Gazza wept, when Butcher bled, when Southgate failed and when Beckham kicked out – it was all in Umbro attire.
But no more. Nike acquired Umbro in 2008, then sold it off to Iconix last year. But guess who got to keep the uniform contract? Tonight is the last time the team will wear Umbro.
As a parting shot, and to commemorate their history with British Football, Umbro unveiled this ad today with a snide abuse of Nike's brand essence.
It's been an honour to be associated with the national team for such a long period of time, and we wanted to take this occasion to celebrate some of the classic kits we've created for England.
Umbro’s founder Harold Humphreys once said: ‘There are three things which constitute the ability to succeed - enthusiasm, tenacity and sheer damned cheek - but all in good measure.
We think that we've stuck by these principles over the past 89 years, and we will continue to do so as we look forward to a bright future.
I have a confession to make: I never really got over John Lennon's murder.
Some kids have sports heroes. At 10 years old, mine was a Beatle. A damaged, but brilliant musician who had just recently come out of retirement to transform himself from one long anger management case study to a domesticated urban dad.
Even at my tender age, I was put off by how many people cashed in on his death. But as I grew up and fell in love myself, I became an apologist for the one person most vilified in the examination of his life: Yoko Ono.
John loved Yoko. Understanding what that means, now, brings tears to my eyes when I hear the songs he wrote about her. And while she is often (erroneously) blamed for breaking up the Beatles, John always insisted that she "saved" him. And modern accounts of his life seem to indicate that he did need saving — from profound depression and abandonment issues.
John's music has appeared in commercials since his death. "Revolution" for Nike. "Merry Xmas (War is Over)" on a children's charity appeal. But no posthumous endorsement has been as cynical as this:
What's even worse is that it is not a misappropriation, but authorized by John's heirs, Yoko and "Beautiful Boy" Sean.
"She [Yoko] did not do it for money. Has to do w hoping to keep dad in public consciousness. No new LPs, so TV ad is exposure to young," Ono Lennon said, adding: "Look, TV ad was not for money. It's just hard to find new ways to keep dad in the new world. Not many things as effective as TV."
Who knows what John Lennon would be like, had he outlived George. Maybe the '80s would have seen him mellow out to the point of total commercialism. But when someone dies relatively young, they get the benefit of having their principles trapped in the amber of the day.
I can't see the John Lennon of my childhood hawking cars with his revolutionary words. To my mind, the best way to keep John relevant is not to twist what he said but to just let young people hear the actual words.
So kids, for your benefit, here's some social marketing that matters from the man I remember:
And the controversial one:
I wonder why, if she wanted to make John's message relevant to today, Yoko didn't just buy her own ad space somewhere, as she and John did for their NYC "War is Over" billboard back in the day:
We miss you, John. But you probably would've forgiven Yoko anyway.
