Sometimes people accuse me of going over the top, and I do, particularly when something really pisses me off, but shit, I take my hat off to Harry Webber for his comment on an AdAge piece about the failure of the blatantly racial campaign for “G.” This is so strong, I am re-posting it. This is his reply to Gatorade CMO Sarah Robb O'Hagan’s statement that the beverage's restaging is right on target…
"What is G" Ms. O'Hagan?
"G" is a 15 year-old serving triple life for mass murder over the color of a rag.
"G" is a 4 year old little girl hit by 4 9mm rounds fired into her birthday party by mistake.
"G" is her 16 year old mother cleaning her daughters face off a picket fence because nobody else dares go out to do it.
"G" is Continuing Revolution In Progress vs. Better Look Out Or Die for 24 years and tens of thousands of young lives.
"G" is the "final shade of red" you use in your billboards in LA.
"G" is "Cool cuzz I'm Blue" you use in your billboards in LA.
"G" has nothing to do with Gatorade. But you know that. You were hoping you could leverage the real meaning of "G" to sell your brand, but wound up selling your brand down the river.
Selling your children down the river.
Selling your race down the river
Selling your self down the river.
Back to the drawing board for the creative is it? Back to the drawing board after glorifying the genocide of an entire generation of city-bound teens and tweens.
And you have the nerve to ask "What Is G?"
The words of Mr. Ice-T answer it far better than I.
I am a nightmare walking, psychopath talking
King of my jungle just a gangster stalking
Living life like a firecracker quick is my fuse
Then dead as a deathpack the colors I choose
Red or Blue, Cuz or Blood, it just don't matter
Sucker die for your life when my shotgun scatters
We gangs of L.A. will never die
All we know to do is just multiply.
Shame on you Ms. O'Hagen. You knew what "G" was when Chait Day brought it to you. Just like they knew it was time to move when the Venice Shoreline Crip Gang held their parking lot for ransom in the old neighborhood.
Shame on you Jimmy Smith for allowing the big white G to be posted on red and blue billboards and transit ads in the city you call home.
Shame on you Lee Clow. You knew what "G" meant when they brought you this campaign. You probably thought it was "Cool". It will not be cool where the three of you are heading.
Yet there you sit. Scratching your heads and your beards and wondering why it didn't work. Did you notice the mother's in Watts pouring Gatorade out in the streets? Or the preachers in South Philly vilifying Quaker from the pulpit? Of course you didn't. You were still patting yourselves on the back for using Jabbawokeez. People like you make me ashamed to work in advertising.
What is"G"?
Godless. Ms. O'Hagen. That's what you did Gatorade. Live with that for the rest of your life.
Way to fucking go Harry!
And it tastes like shit!
