Aftershocks from March’s earthquake and tsunami in Japan will reportedly hit home in the advertising world in the coming months, due to Japanese auto manufacturers’ supply shortages. And the new victims will be the bottom lines at newspapers, as well as TV and radio stations.
No one ever thinks they’ll wake up to a life-altering disaster, but it’s wise to prepare for the worst-case scenario.
A stretch of Massachusetts highway has been drenched in the colors of the rainbow after a UPS truck carrying industrial printer cartridges rolled and spewed out its beautiful cargo. No one was hurt, but Skittles really needs to reign in these guerrilla marketing campaigns.
The Chicago Reader has an excellent time line of the events that produced the now-infamous privatized parking meter disaster. [Chicago Reader]
Food kits distributed by FEMA as part of a disaster relief effort in Kentucky and Arkansas may contain some of that awesome salmonella peanut butter we’ve been hearing so much about.
The IRS is extending deadlines for those of you within the Presidental Disaster Area caused by the wildfires.
Taxpayers in the Presidential Disaster Area — consisting of Los Angeles, Orange, Riverside, San Bernardino, San Diego, Santa Barbara and Ventura counties — will have until Jan. 31, 2008, to file returns, pay taxes and perform other time-sensitive acts.
Seventeen days after Topps launched the second largest meat recall in U.S. history, the 67-year-old company announced that it’s going out of business. Topp’s COO told American Agriculturist:
“In one week we have gone from the largest U.S. manufacturer of frozen hamburgers to a company that cannot overcome the economic reality of a recall this large… We want to thank our loyal employees and customers who have supported us throughout the 67 years in which Topps Meat has been in business,” D’Urso said. “Topps has always prided itself on providing the utmost quality and safety and never had a recall in our history until now. This has been a shocking and sobering experience for everyone.”
Claustrophobically interred miles deep within the chthonic bowels of the earth? Surrounded by nothing but the palpable darkness, the corpse of a buddy and an omnivorous silence threatening to swallow you forever that is only held at bay by the sound of your own hysterical breathing? Well, you may have been unlucky enough to be caught in a mine cave-in, and the rescuers may very well be powerless to reach you in time. But at least they’ve sent some iPods down the shaft so you can while away your last few hours listening to the Cardigans.