creativity

The Last Trickster Poet of Hollywood

A remembrance of an evening with Val Kilmer—where he conjured a provocation: the creative life begins when you stop asking for permission, find art in the everyday, and dare to make your own reality.

It wasn’t a conversation, not in the traditional sense. Val Kilmer didn’t stand behind a podium. He didn’t read from notes. He shuffled onstage, found an armchair that looked like it belonged in a sunken living room from 1978, and just—sat.

This was at my college, a small liberal arts school with an ambitious lecture series that had recently hosted former presidents Jimmy Carter, George H.W. Bush, Henry Kissinger, and an up-and-coming senator named Barack Obama. These were people of consequence. Leaders who made policy, waged war, held power.

But none of them had been Batman, Iceman, Doc Holliday and Jim Morrison all rolled into one. None of them had that strange electricity of myth and menace, all bottled in a single person.

The moment Kilmer appeared on stage, the air in the room changed.

This was post-Heat, post-Batman, the tail-end of a decade when he’d shape-shifted through a rogue’s gallery of icons. He was famous in a way that felt dangerous. You didn’t know what he’d say—and that was the point.

He opened the floor to questions immediately. No script. Just Val, free-associating through Twain and Shakespeare, quoting his own films, rhapsodizing about his kids, about cameras, about the stubborn, irrational act of making art. The whole night orbited one message:

Create your own reality.

Nobody’s going to hand it to you. And even when they do, you’ll have to fight to keep it. Surprise people. Be undeniable.

He told the story of landing The Doors. He hadn’t waited for a studio call. He recorded himself singing Morrison songs. Slipped one of his own into the demo, unlabeled. Even Oliver Stone couldn’t tell which was which. Neither could the remaining members of the band. He became Morrison, and by the time casting decisions were made, there was no decision. Val was the Lizard King.

He talked about being the first person he knew to own a video camera. He filmed constantly. It was the same footage that would, decades later, form the spine of Val, his devastating, luminous 2020 documentary.

And somewhere in those rambling minutes, something clicked in me.

That night, Kilmer didn’t just perform. He modeled something. A way of living as an artist—scrappy, obsessive, defiant, enchanted. Shortly after Kilmer’s talk, I started carrying around my own video camera. I shot everything. DIY remakes of Psycho. Art films about levitating scissors. Late-night antics at Denny’s . I wasn’t trying to make something perfect. I was trying to live creatively. To treat reality as pliable. To find everlasting moments in every day. Val would understand.

It’s easy to remember the fun stuff. He did say “I’m your Huckleberry,” and yes, he told a story about Marlon Brando so strange it felt like a hallucination—involving face paint and a kimono. But what stayed with me were the deeper threads—about fate, failure, and the fragile, self-styled scaffolding that holds up an artistic life.

When someone asked about his reputation for being “difficult,” he didn’t flinch. He spoke about being a guardian of truth—for the characters he played. If he found something essential, he fought for it. The work didn’t have to be easy. It had to be real.

He talked about his son thinking he was actually Batman, not Val. Even after showing his son the movie, the boy was not convinced, and assured that he was Batman, and not his father onscreen, despite the blockbuster proof. What is reality anyway?

Maybe we are all Batman.

Kilmer painted, drew, made collages. None of that showed up in the tabloids, but it pulsed through him that night. A creative energy too unruly for one medium. You realized that the onscreen personas were just fragments and borrowed masks—glimpses of someone constantly inventing, constantly seeking.

I watched Val recently. Listened to the audiobook of his memoir I’m Your Huckleberry. Rewatched Tombstone, then Heat. And suddenly, I was back in that auditorium. In the dark. Watching a man peel away the myth and try on masks, only to reveal something stranger: a deeply sincere, wildly imperfect, defiantly poetic romantic. It was impossible not to feel inspired by that.

He made rebellion feel sacred. Mischief felt like method. He refused to play the Hollywood game, even as he conquered it. His career was a masterclass in turning dust into gold and getting bored the moment it gleamed.

Yes, he made baffling choices. Burned bridges. Took detours no manager would have greenlit. And yet he carved out something rare: a career that was his. A life of ecstatic contradictions.

He turned down the easy version of success. Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he didn’t. What’s certain is that he kept surprising us, right up until his voice gave out, and then—somehow—kept talking.

That night affirmed something in me.

I stopped waiting for permission. I stopped bowing down to so-called gatekeepers and forces I can’t control. I started making things. Well, I started making more things. Different things. Experiments. And I’ve kept on, trusting that if you throw enough wonder into the world, something unexpected will come back. It worked for Val, and over time, I’ve seen it play out in my domain as well.

Val Kilmer was, and is, our Huckleberry.

A trickster-poet in a cape. A dreamer who saw art everywhere. The crew-cut scene-stealer who once stole Top Gun from Tom Cruise with a single, arrogant chomp of chewing gum.

The Lizard King who refused to let The End define him—but instead transform him.

And when we look back, when we really trace the strange flickering light he left behind, what do we see?

We see the ghost of Jim Morrison swaggering through firelight, singing prophecy through a veil of leather and smoke—somehow about something more soulful than an expected chronicle of sex, drugs, rock n’ roll.

We see Doc Holliday, pale and facing the void, still faster on the draw than anyone alive. A Southern specter, one foot in the grave, the other in poetry.

We see Batman, not the brooding demigod of later years, but something more tormented—more Shakespearean. A Batman who looked like he’d read Hamlet and meant it.

We see Chris Shiherlis in Heat, silent and wounded, a thief with the face of a fallen angel and the soul of someone already halfway gone.

And we see Val himself, in Val, the final act, stripped of voice but not spirit. Archiving his own myth with love, regret, and more vulnerability than Hollywood ever knew what to do with.

Each of these characters was a mask. And each mask revealed something truer.

Because Val Kilmer didn’t just play icons. He inhabited them. Bent their voices to his cadence. Let their ghosts borrow his skin. He moved through genre, through persona, through time, as if this life was just one long improv scene and he was dead set on finding its truth before the lights went down.

And maybe that’s the real secret:

He was never just acting.
He was becoming.

Becoming the outlaw.
Becoming the poet.
Becoming the myth.

Becoming a cosmic jester with paint on his hands and a camera in his palm, chasing beauty across deserts and backlots and dreams.

Some actors fade.
Val burned.
With brilliance. With mess. With risk. With refusal.

He created a reality larger than the screen. A creative life so alive it bled off the edges. A rock opera of detours and digressions that joyfully haunt us all.

So here’s to Val.

Our Huckleberry.
Our Saint.
Our fading gunfighter, laughing into the abyss.
Our shapeshifter in the spotlight.
Our silent poet in the wings.

Val, if you're listening—
as you're out there still filming, still dreaming, still editing the reel of your cosmic cut—know this:

You didn’t just live a life.
You performed a constellation.
And we, lucky as hell, got to look up.

Lose the Jargon

I know robots are the future, but that doesn't mean we have to talk to people like we are one.

Marketing and advertising have always been a breeding ground for jargon.

It comes from a desperate instinct to organize chaos.

To name and label and make the unknowable known.

To make people with no idea what they are doing sound like experts.

Fake it till you make it, and all that.

But if all of these efforts are to ultimately connect with actual human beings, how do these inhuman terms help?

Holistic paradigms. Achieve virality. Orchestrate behavior loops. Foster brand equity. Omni-channel experiences. Catalyze disruption innovation. Harmonize touchpoints. Optimize stakeholder value. Accelerate brand consideration. Agile methodologies. Maximize ROI. Segmentation.

And my favorite, least human shout out of them all: CONSUMERS.

How do we activate and empower consumers to drive brand awareness and capture increased market share with a media agnostic marketing mix that micro targets Gen-Z favored niches where they congregate on and offline? #iykyk #Blessed

Ummmmmmmmmmmm….

I’ll get back to you on that one…

While strategic thinking and analytical reasoning is important, we shouldn’t get lost in talking to each other like a bunch of bots and algorithms.

Keep things simple.

Reduce the complex into easy conversations.

Digest all of the big data and make it your own.

Search for TRUTH not facts, numbers and formats.

The whole point of trying to reach people is to make them feel something.

All of the layers of insider speak just get in the way.

What’s worse, is some people seem to relish using this jargon.

I’ve run into a few junior creatives lately who were very good at using fancy terms.

It made them sound hypnotic and polished.

It felt like a part of their identity.

But what were they really saying?

Who were they trying to impress?

I tried to talk with them in simple ways and threw in a few dumb jokes to break the trance.

What do you want to make? What do you find interesting? Seen any good shows lately? Look at this dumb thing I saw on Instagram.

Sometimes it’s small talk that naturally turns into big ideas.

You can offer way more value if you talk to people like yourself.

You don’t need to adopt a voice that makes you sound like everyone else.

Everyone struggles with imposter syndrome, and jargon can be a mask and source of strength.

But sounding smart in a meeting and being good at what you do are not the same thing.

It’s okay to let your guard down.

No one knows everything and we aren’t counting on you to be an expert.

We need you to be yourself and offer only what you can offer.

The smartest people I’ve worked with sound like super regular people.

They’re human, uncertain, funny and like no one else.

But they keep showing up as themselves and being vulnerable.

They’re willing to put in the deep thought to figure hard things out.

Don’t let a mastery of a dictionary of industry terms be a substitute for actual mastery.

The gig is to solve problems.

Not create an unnecessary labyrinth of words and checkpoints that obscure the goal.

The next time someone drops some jargon on you in a meeting, ask what they mean.

Get them to go a little deeper.

Encourage them to explain it in their own words.

And if you catch yourself saying something overly technical, keep talking.

Try to rephrase in a way that says what you are thinking.

That’s when the sparks and insights truly come.

Sometimes it’s the person who is brave enough to sound uncertain or simple that triggers the breakthrough.

Especially these days, we have plenty of AIs and algorithms we can turn to if we want overly analytic and stoic responses.

Let us band together as humans having real conversations.

That’s always been our strength.

We’re beings that feel and cry and make stupid jokes.

You don’t have to be slick or polished to be good.

You’ll be judged by the quality of your thought.

You don’t score points for using trendy gibberish.

Lose the jargon.

Use your own voice.

That’s where your power lies.


Andrew “Oyl” Miller is an advertising Creative Director and Copywriter. He spent 15 years working at Wieden+Kennedy on brands like Nike, PlayStation and IKEA. You can check out his work on his website.

Branding Vs. Brand Guidelines: What's the Real Difference?

Marketing is famously filled with jargon. The problem with jargon is that it quickly becomes meaningless. There are some foundational terms and concepts that are easily conflated and that lose sharpness over time. One fundamental term that I’ve seen have a broad range of interpretations is “branding” itself. Most commonly, I’ve seen people use “branding” to specifically refer to “brand guidelines.” However, in my experience brand guidelines are just a very small subset of what branding is.

Let’s dig in and see what the distinctions are.

What is Branding, Anyway?

First things first, let's define what branding actually is. At its core, branding is all about creating a meaningful, emotional connection between a brand and its audience. It's about making people feel something when they see your logo, hear your name, or encounter your products. Think of it as the heart and soul of your brand – the intangible magic that makes people choose you over the competition.

For example, Nike is a brand that has nailed the art of branding. It's not just about their iconic swoosh; it's about their "Just Do It" ethos. Nike has become synonymous with athletic achievement, determination, and the pursuit of excellence. When you wear Nike gear, you're not just wearing sports apparel; you're embodying a winning mindset.

Another standout example is Coca-Cola. Beyond their sugary beverages, Coca-Cola has created a timeless and universal message of happiness, togetherness, and sharing. Their branding campaigns, like the iconic "Share a Coke" campaign, have touched the hearts of millions worldwide.

Brand Guidelines: The Rulebook

Now, on to brand guidelines. These are like the brand's rulebook. They lay out the dos and don'ts, ensuring that your brand's visuals and voice are consistent across all touchpoints. Brand guidelines are essential to maintaining a cohesive image, but they're not the soul of your brand. They're more like the uniform your brand wears every day.

Let's take Old Spice as an example. Their brand guidelines ensure that no matter where you encounter Old Spice – whether it's in a TV commercial, a print ad, or on social media – you'll recognize that quirky, humorous style. The brand guidelines keep the Old Spice persona intact, but it's the brand itself that makes you smile.

Harley-Davidson is another brand that knows the power of guidelines. Their brand is synonymous with freedom, rebellion, and the open road. While their guidelines ensure consistency in logo usage and typography, it's the brand's strong identity that makes owning a Harley a lifestyle choice. You can intellectually recognize the logo, but it’s the brand that makes you feel something.

Branding = Culture Relevance

So, why is it crucial to distinguish between branding and brand guidelines? Because understanding this difference can take your brand to a whole new level. You see, branding is what makes your brand relevant in culture. It's about tapping into the zeitgeist, reflecting societal values, and creating something that resonates with your audience on a deep, emotional level.

Think about Apple. It's not just a tech company; it's a cultural phenomenon. Apple's branding revolves around innovation, simplicity, and challenging the status quo. They've made owning an Apple product a statement about individuality and creativity. When you see someone with an iPhone, it's not just a phone; it's a symbol of a shared ethos.

Red Bull is another brand that's deeply ingrained in culture. Their branding is all about pushing the boundaries of what's possible. From extreme sports events to content creation, they've made "gives you wings" a lifestyle, not just a slogan.

Emotion = Fans

One of the most powerful and enduring things about branding is that it turns customers into fans. When you create a strong emotional bond with your audience, they become your biggest advocates. They'll wear your merchandise, share your content, and defend your brand in internet debates. That's the power of a brand that connects on a deeper level.

Take Nike again, for instance. Their emotional connection with fans goes beyond sports. When they released the "Dream Crazy" campaign featuring Colin Kaepernick, they tapped into the broader cultural conversation about social justice. This move not only solidified their brand's values but also won them a legion of new fans who admired their bold stance.

Another example of this phenomenon is Disney. Disney's branding is all about nostalgia, magic, and storytelling. They've created a fan culture that spans generations. From Mickey Mouse to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Disney's branding is a masterclass in creating lifelong fans that keep coming back (and bring their kids with them).

When asked about the role of a brand, Dan Wieden distilled it down to “Move me, Dude!” That sums it up pretty well. If your branding isn’t making someone feel something, it’s time to rethink and find ways that it can.

The Takeaway

So, the next time a team member uses branding interchangeably with brand guidelines, you can offer this distinction. Brand guidelines are essential for maintaining consistency in design and voice, but branding is the heart and soul of your brand. It's about creating an emotional relationship, winning more fans, and becoming culturally relevant. When you get branding right, the guidelines become part of your daily work in delivering the magic of your brand to the world.

The TLDR: Branding is about emotions, connections, and culture. Brand guidelines? They're just the stewards and hosts who make sure the party goes smoothly.


Andrew “Oyl” Miller is an advertising Creative Director and Copywriter. He spent 15 years working at Wieden+Kennedy on brands like Nike, PlayStation and IKEA. You can check out his work on his website.

My Next Chapter

I spent the last year exploring the branding and storytelling possibilities at the intersection of sports, web3 and NFTs at Dapper Labs. I was the first copywriter hired by Dapper, and helped define the brand positioning and voice for pioneering web3 projects like NBA Top Shot, NFL All Day and UFC Strike.

After 14 years at Wieden + Kennedy in Tokyo, I moved my family to the other side of the world to take on a new challenge in an emerging industry. It was a thrilling, chaotic ride in a startup culture where everyone was driven to do something that's never been done. It always felt like we were a step away from a breakthrough.

While at Dapper, I worked with passionate coworkers as we wrestled with daily challenges amidst industry uncertainty. I was able to write words for Magic Johnson, Patrick Mahomes, Klay Thompson and other sports icons. I'll take the good, the bad and all of the learnings as I move to my next chapter.

From today I'm available for freelance and full-time Creative Director and Copywriter opportunities.

You can email me at oylmiller at gmail dot com.

You can also find me on LinkedIn, Instagram and Twitter.

Azuki NFT Releases First Fractionalized NFT

We have hit a wall with NFTs. The word is out. You either love or hate them. But whichever side you fall on, you feel like you know what they are about. And it's either for you or not. Of course those who are writing off NFTs already, are sounding a lot like the people who dismissed the Internet as a fad back in the 1990s.

Yet, even as a convert to NFTs and the potential of web3, I can understand where the hate is coming from. It's like when the Internet only had a few web pages and you had to get access by getting "minutes" on a physical CD. The infrastructure of web3 doesn't exist yet. It forces you to use all of your powers of imagination as to what the space could look like once that infrastructure is built out. Leaving value to the power of imagination alone looks an awful lot like speculation.

But I just ask myself a simple question: Will people's lives become more digital in the future? Or will people start abandoning technology. Will the Internet become the fad that it was predicted to be in the 1990s? If you think people's lives will be more digital than they are today, then that is a vote of confidence for web3.

But if web 3.0 is the destination for mainstream adoption, we will start needing more than imagination and speculation to get us there. This means we need innovation. We don't need cryptopunks version 47. We don't need 394 different flavors of monkeys. We need honest innovation that unlocks the next chapters of this story. We need NFT projects that make people go "oh, I never thought of that." We need NFT projects that move the needle and start filling in the wild imagination of early adopters.

This brings me to a new wave of NFT projects that are standing out. Projects like Azuki NFT, an anime inspired PFP project that comes with a blue chip pedigree and an ambitious roadmap to match. Azuki started out as a series of anime inspired characters and a promise for future metaverse integration. Its members have worked for Marvel and Disney before, and what they are looking to accomplish is directly related to that path. Instead of designing characters that raise the stock prices for Disney shareholders, these creators are looking to mint original IP that will fund their own vision that they will be able to control and profit for. No longer putting their hard labor in for the House of Mouse, they are out to make an impact for themselves. This is the promise of web3. Digital ownership that many can participate and profit in.

The Azuki NFTs quickly shot to the top of the NFT rankings and their floor price quickly vaulted out of reach for most. Which makes their recent offering intriguing. They have just "fractionalized" one of their IP's core characters, a bean farmer named Bobu, and offered those fractions at an affordable mint price for new members to join the community. There were 50,000 such fractions minted and they went fast.

Azuki is promising that the Bobu fractional NFTs will be an experiment in project governance. Effectively creating a DAO based around one of the characters in their world. It's like if JK Rowling suddenly decided that Hagrid was going to be owned by the fans and offered shares of ownership in the character. Holders of the fractional Bobu NFT will be able to vote in the community to help decide the direction of the character. The projects roadmap lists ambitions to create animations, games and even films around the Azuki universe, and Bobu's fate will be fan controlled. This is having a stake in the game. And as word of the project moves forward and sales of the fraction continue to rise, they will keep generating more funding that goes towards fulfilling their future ambitions. It's a brilliant marketing move that has brought more attention to the Azuki brand, and has also lived the spirit of web3 by giving those who missed the initial wave an affordable entry point into the project. It's a show of innovation that could be adopted by other out of reach NFT project like Bored Apes, should they look for ways to acquire new members in a future wave of the project.

It's still early innings for these projects, but every time one project decides to try something new, the whole space can learn and benefit from the attempt. And hopefully, we will see more of these properties taking risks and trying to add new innovations to what they are offering. One of these days, someone will add a new use case that will serve as the springboard to mass adoption of web3. We are still playing in tech savvy, early adopter spaces. But with every new attempt, the mainstream gets a little closer. Innovation is the only path toward opening the floodgates. Because everyone who already cares about NFTs is here and content. It's the 99% that need to get excited about this space, and so far, they haven't seen anything that gives them enough FOMO to join. Yet.

Shibuya NFT Creates Web3 Native Film Platform

Hollywood has long been looking for new ways to fund and market films. With the emergence of NFTs and web3, filmmakers and film producers have actively been searching for ways to harness the exponential fund-raising potential that the space has demonstrated. As out-of-nowhere, original IP like Bored Apes have vaulted into the spotlight, Hollywood has been left on the outside looking for where they can plug in their IP.

Yes, we have seen traditional IP money printing NFT launches around the typical tentpoles. Marvel and Star Wars minting one off collections for a limited number of fans. But these moves are a flash in the pan. Web3 has moved on from the quick flip, cash grab days, into having a large concentration of smart and creative people looking how to build out meaningful ecosystems within the space. With web3 native creative projects, it seems like eventually, the next Star Wars or the next Harry Potter could be spun out of passionate creative team delivering surprising characters and worlds to an adoring and high-spending audience that funds higher production ways to bring those creations into the world.

The latest web3 film attempt to step onto the stage is the Shibuya project by crypto-creators @pplpleasr1 and @maciej_kuciara. What they have brought to the table is a stylish website and the opening moments of an original animation that hearkens to the style of Japanese anime powerhouse Studio Ghibli. The website features a stunning and modern version of Tokyo's central hub, Shibuya, rendered in a metaverse friendly style that has all sorts of future leaning implications. The film, is an Alice and Wonderland style animation, which ends with a cliffhanger of Alice standing in front of two doors, left and right.

As you get into the project details, you see that you can mint a "Producer Pass" which acts as a governance token to the project's DAO. With the NFT, you can vote for which door Alice should open. It's like the interactive films that Netflix has been playing around with, only in this case, you vote with buying into the ecosystem. Once the votes have been cast, it will unlock Chapter 2 in the story, upon which a new round of Producer Passes will be minted and the process of deciding the main character's fate will be in the hands of the community again.

The project also has "White Rabbit Tokens" that will be generated based on how early users join the project. The earlier you get in, the more tokens you will accumulate. At the end of the film, the film itself will be fractionalized into an NFT, and all participants will be able to stake an ownership in the final film.

Hopping into the Discord and AMAs you find that there are plans of this being the first film in a web3 film platform, where original stories will be created, and then delivered "direct-to-community." It's like Netflix meets Patreon or other crowdfunding analogies from the web2 era.

Again, reverse engineer your favorite franchise, and you can start to see how a launchpad for characters and stories could escalate. Luke Skywalker could have been introduced this way. George Lucas could have presented the opening atmosphere of Star Wars and allowed fans to buy into it from the get go. Imagine owning an NFT minted in 1977 that represented a share of ownership in the character Darth Vader. The future is impossible to predict, but creative minds are actively looking how to scale their original stories and turbocharge their development and funding via the power of web3.

It's also possible that eventually Hollywood will see the profit potential in fans wanting to have some skin in the game of the franchises they love. What if instead of having an Ironman lunchbox, you could own a part of Ironman, and participate in the success and profits of the character moving forward. Suddenly we aren't talking about fleeting animal illustrations. We are talking about cultural forces opening up and rewarding fans' for their passion and promotion. Think of the money big studios could cut from their marketing budgets, if they just allowed an energized and invested audience to preach the good word and hype up the latest release. We are several steps from this point, but all signs and ingenuity are pointing this way.

Until then, check out the Shibuya project and see if the community will send Alice through the door on the left or right.

Street Fashion in the Metaverse

Street fashion might not sound like a perfect analog for the NFT space, yet early on it's seeming like a match made in metaverse heaven.

Lately, Bobby Hundreds, owner of the street brand, The Hundreds, has become an NFT uber-evangelist on full blast across his social channels and podcasts. He's turned into this inspirational, almost Steve Jobs type figure, who has made it his mission to open up the NFT space and personally onboard as many people as possible.

Last year The Hunrdeds had their own NFT drop called the Adam Bomb Squad, consisting of illustrated bomb characters that have graced the brand's streetwear for decades. The founder of Hundreds ah-ha moment was when he realized they were sitting on this deep legacy of IP and a super passionate community: the two main drivers of a successful NFT project. After a few tests, The Adam Bomb Squad was a success. Selling out its first mint and now experiencing a healthy life cycle on the secondary market. This has only fueled Hundreds enthusiasm and conviction in the space. And like I said, he's bringing as many people with him as possible. Including all of his OG streetwear friends, which means street fashion could really be the next big thing to follow art into the metaverse.

Another early streetwear foray into the metaverse famously came from RTFKT and their fusing of meta-video game, hyper aesthetics to create a line of virtual sneakers and become the first famous metaverse fashion brand. Nike took note and acquired RTFKT just when their heat couldn't get any hotter.

Streetwear circles tend to be tight and insular, so it was no surprise, yet also a pleasant surprise, when RTFKT tapped streetwear legend Jeff Staple to bring his game-changing and iconic Pigeon Dunks into the metaverse. The alchemy of the old and new came together to create an instant classic. What must have first felt like an experimental lark for Staple, turned into his own ah-ha moment in the NFT space as he witnessed the awesome community embrace and power that comes when an authentic creator offers something meaningful and heartfelt in the space.

And so after the hype of the drop settled down, Staple is approaching the metaverse again, this time with his own solo NFT project.

Enter the Stapleverse.

A connected community universe built around Staple's iconic Pigeon brand. Here, hypebeasts will be able to mint "Feed" and later have the option to risk throwing their feed to turn it into either a "Pigeon" or "Poop." It's the kind of risk it all layer that we've seen implemented in a few NFT projects. Like the Bored Apes Serum, which takes away your original Ape forever and gives you a brand new Mutated Ape in return.

The website is slick. The passion and creativity leaps off the screen. The art for the first drop is perfectly executed by illustrator B. Thom Stevenson. This week, Chapter 1 dropped. It presents a series of graphics that represents the highs and lows of living in New York. As the project builds out, Staple envisions adding references to new cities around the world to the Stapleverse.

There is a roadmap for the Stapleverse, and it's already clear that Staple has the passion and energy to keep creating in the space. With a known, authentic creator behind the project, confidence rises that this will not be a rug pull. Staple has already been a part of NFT history and now is looking to build off his legacy in the space.

There is a strong psychological connection between hypebeast street culture and NFT culture. Both worlds center around literal "drops" of their products. In both space, catching wind of early hype is credibility and currency, as well as often the difference between those who ape in early and those who live with FOMO in perpetuity.

For those who need the right Nikes that no one else has, or the t-shirt that only came from one single shop, NFTs area a kindred spirit. For streetwear and NFTs are both markers of status. And as our lives turn increasingly digital, it figures that we will need more than just a follower count to signal our status and what we are into. Found out about Bored Apes before anyone else? Your Twitter profile will be the judge of that. Get in on the first Stapleverse drop? Just flash your wallet. From now on, your cool points will be stored on the blockchain, available for all to see and judge. It's Supreme drops, but for the web3 savvy.

You won't see the long mysterious lines of people with insane kicks in questionable New York or Tokyo alleys. Instead, these early streetwear adopters will be going on whitelist quests inside of Discord servers. All hell bent on finding out first, where the the latest cool is at.

Hipster Velociraptor NFTs

I’ve been studying and playing around with NFTs and web3 for a little while now, and now I’m ready to jump into the space as a creator. I just minted my first batch of Hipster Velociraptor NFTs over on OpenSea. You can check out the collection here.

Hipster Velociraptors are a PFP or “profile picture” project along the lines of Bored Apes and Cryptopunks. The latter have helped accelerate NFTs and crypto-art into the mainstream, as their art has sold for astronomical prices. Hipster Velociraptors are each crafted by hand on the computer. I put together the traits and accessories, and then mint each one into a unique and verifiable NFT.

While I am jumping into a newly established trend, Hipster Velociraptors are an original illustration project that I have been working on for years. I’ve struggled to find the right avenue to put them out into the world. And then I saw the emergence of NFTs and PFP art, and realized right away, that Hipster Velociraptors would work perfectly in that context.

Like all NFT and crypto-art projects recently, I do have a general “roadmap” in mind. While it hasn’t been finalized, some things I am thinking about include web comics, original content series, commissions and limited edition drops to holders. We are all so very early to this space, and the rules and best practices are literally being written every day.

Hipster Velociraptors will be my personal NFT studio to create and experiment with the form. As of this writing I have created and minted 7 unique Hipster Velociraptors. I plan to keep adding to this series. The hope is that over time, more collectors will come to discover the collection, and will be curious to look back and see what the original Hipster Velociraptors look like.

Watch this space for more updates on the project moving forward. If you are reading this, then you too, are very early.

Go pick up a Hipster Velociraptor of your own here!

Nike commercial about gender inequality in Japan receives backlash online

Article re-posted from Japan Today. By Oona McGee, SoraNews24

TOKYO—
In recent years, Nike has shown that it likes to move people, both physically with their range of sporting goods and apparel, and emotionally, with their tug-at-the heartstrings advertising.

In Japan, the sporting giant is moving people once again, this time with a new commercial called “New Girl/Play New“, which shines a light on the plight of women across the country. The ad comes with the following thought-provoking statement:

“Growing up a girl in Japan used to mean one thing. Now it can mean everything. So, what do you want to do?”

This is the main theme of the ad, which reminds viewers of some of the traditional expectations and restrictions placed on women in Japan from a young age, while also showcasing some of the nation’s sportswomen and activists who are smashing traditional stereotypes, paving the way for the new girls of the future.

The commercial has English subtitles available, so click the white gear button next to the CC in the bottom right corner to turn them on, and take a look at the ad below.

The clip shows a pregnant mother and her family learning that they’ll soon be welcoming a new girl into their lives. While their instant reaction is joy, they’re suddenly reminded of the downsides of being a girl in Japan, with cut scenes to their future grown-up daughter looking over her shoulder in fear while walking alone at night, and attending a business meeting, where she’s allowed in the room but not allowed to talk. That last scenario is one that recently played out in real-life, when Japan’s ruling party decided to allow five female lawmakers to attend their all-male board meetings…on the proviso that they didn’t talk.

Japan ranked 121 out of of 153 countries on the World Economic Forum’s 2020 Global Gender Gap Index, and the Nike ad reminds us that a report by the World Economic Forum in 2021 showed the average Japanese woman’s income was 43.7 percent lower than the average Japanese man’s income.

However, there is hope that girls really will be able to achieve anything in future, and there are some young sportswomen doing just that right now. Professional football player and female empowerment activist Ami Otaki appears in the ad, showing that women can carve a successful career for themselves by playing a traditionally male sport at a national level.

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▼ High-school sumo wrestler Rizumu Kasai is a member of the men’s competitive high school sumo team.

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▼ And 16-year-old baseball player Ayuri Shimano has played on all-male teams.

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The ad also includes appearances by wrestler Miyu Nakamura and figure skater Marin Honda, along with a scene showing Momoko Nojo, an activist working to eliminate gender discrimination, playing the role of a future Prime Minister.

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While the ad ends with a positive sense of hope for the future of women in Japan, it doesn’t shy away from presenting the problems that exist in the country. In fact, a quick look at the comments section under the video shows why ads like this are sorely needed in Japan, as many of the commenters appear to care less about the message of empowering women and more about the fact that Nike has aired Japan’s dirty laundry on a public stage.

“Currently Nike is hot on making hate speech against Japan.”

“This is a commercial that appeals for the elimination of discrimination against women, but it is a commercial that severely discriminates against Japanese people.”

“You should be aware that the real enemies are not men or women, but capitalists who incite discrimination.”

“Is this really made by Japanese people?”

“Sumo is a culture, and putting a woman in it is just a denial of culture, isn’t it?”

Like Nike’s last commercial, which looked at the problem of bullying and racism in Japan, this new commercial has also received more dislikes than likes, with 2,800 dislikes and 1,300 likes as of this writing.

Nike doesn’t seem bothered by the backlash, though, leaving the comments section open for the world to see, as if to further solidify their point that it’s tough to be a woman in Japan. And with female players continuing to be banned on the baseball field during the major high school baseball tournament at Koshien Stadium, and female sumo players banned from stepping into the sacred sumo ring at the majority of sumo stadiums, it’s fair to say Japan still has a long way to go in terms of gender equality. However, the more it’s brought to light, the more will be done about it, and ads like these are a step in the right direction towards improving the future for the new girls of tomorrow.