Sex, decks and women's health clubs

Since the last time I wrote about crimes against the English language (shame on you, KFC), a report has been released claiming that the average teenager uses a mere 800 words each day. On this occasion, texting and hip-hop culture seem to be taking the brunt of the blame, but I'm starting to wonder if 800 words a day isn't so bad, so long as they don't include either of the examples that follow in this post.

Most businesses go to market with a new brand or campaign only after months of research and planning. However, Fernwood Women's Health Clubs and Cabot's Clever Deck both seem to have dreamed up their campaigns after watching an episode of "20 To 1: Funniest Ads In The World".

Fernwood would like to have us sniggering at the back of the class with this dumbed-down approach to getting people's attention.

And Clever Deck have really gone to town with some tacky sex gags of their own – lasts twice as long, geddit!

Just to be clear, it's not the swearing or the innuendo that I find offensive, simply the fact that neither is particularly funny or uses humour in some way that is relevant to the brand in question.

My dad always said to me that people who use swear words suffer from a poor range of vocabulary (although I'm not sure if he'd managed to pin it down to greater or less than 800 words).

And I'm now wondering if something similar is true for humour in branding.

In other words, if people rely on cheap, mindless gags to draw attention to their brand, it probably means that they suffer from a poor range of products and services – and they're desperately hoping you won't notice.

You can't be serious

A recent research study concluded that people who laugh on average four times a day – or, thirty times are week – can expect to live up to ten years longer than people who frown perpetually or don't find Woody Allen funny. Personally, I try to read one of Woody's short stories at least once a week in order to keep my spirits up, and my physician often takes time to comment on my amusing demeanour.

Of course, it's not always possible to have a copy of Mere Anarchy to hand. And I consider myself fortunate to have found a very different but equally humorous protagonist to keep me in good shape on a more mobile basis via the worldwide web.

By way of introduction, David Thorne is the man who tried to pay his bill with a drawing of a spider. Just one example among a host of other equally ludicrous stunts that all go to show the pen is far mightier than the sword. He is very funny. In fact, he's hilarious.

However, I find it just as disheartening that humour struggles to register on our collective consciousness as a more meaningful genre in today's society.

In the case of David Thorne, he is typically dismissed out of hand as a serial prankster or pest, not someone with something significant to contribute. In his mind, the Internet is a playground, so let’s start playing.

For example, if you want to win an Oscar, you'll always stand a far better chance with a drama or a tragedy, never a comedy.

Most people read newspapers but frown upon comics. It seems as though forcing yourself into a manic state of depression over your bowl of morning cornflakes is preferable to a quick giggle or the opportunity to save the planet from a vicious army of twin-tailed rats while the kids are still tucked up in bed.

And the despicable rogue of the class is always the colourful joker, never the conscientious dullard who takes everything at face value and finds it difficult to talk to people, let alone make eye contact for more than a fleeting moment.

All of this adds up to one thing.

I am desperate to know why we can't have more fun if we want to be taken seriously.

There's questionable fame or fun in working ridiculous hours that pinch your life, instead there's more to gain from leading a fun-filled existence. Just ask anyone from Aristophanes, the ancient Greek playwright who loved nothing more than to poke fun at the establishment, to Tina Fey, the brilliantly funny creator of 30 Rock, or Larry David and his improvised comedy show, Curb Your Enthusiasm. Collectives like The Chaser are serious journalists, but they just happen to use humour to tell their story – and, much to everyone’s shame, it works.

In much the same way, Banksy's street art uses a darker humour to reveal certain truths about our society. It's funny, but at times his use of humour can also be slightly unsettling.

I like being taken seriously, but I'm not so keen on being serious. Life should be fun, and there's no reason why our brands shouldn't be equally entertaining.

More comedy, less corporation! – that's what I say.

Or, you know what? Laugh. It won't kill you.