burger king and the fowl-mouthed chicken

I just received the following note from a friend of mine in Portland.

I thought you might like to make public the keywords used in an interactive advertisement that is currently online for Burger King. The piece features a dancing chicken who responds to statements the viewer submits.

Much more entertaining however is the list of keywords the piece is programmed to recognize, which is also available on the website.

A few highlights:

&clipData_202=head, back ,think,ponder,question,guess, guess ,i dunno,
dunno,hmm,hm,hmm,hmmm,hmmmm,hmmmmm,hmmmmmm,head back&
&clipData_203=shrug,shoulders, do you , what do , think , know , can
you , can i , why , how come , what’s , what , who
&clipData_204=come closer, come here, show me,hrug,shoulders, do you ,
what do , think , know , can you , can i , why , how come , what’s ,
what , who do,think,ponder,opinion,how you doing,how ya doing,how ya
doin,how you doin&
&clipData_205=shit, ass ,fuck,cock,pussy,motherfucker,cunt, piss
,arse,suck,dyke,bitch,clit, cum
stard,blowjob,butt,suck,choad,erection,fellatio,incest,semen, tit &
&clipData_206=bored, frustrate , math,angry, mad &
&clipData_207=turn off lamp, clap,lights,light,blackout,darkness, dark
,turn off lights,turn off the lights,turn the light off,lights
out,light off &clipData_322=inactive,osama,osama,osama,osama,osama,osama,osama,osama,o
sama,osama,osama,osama,osama,saddam,saddam,saddam,saddam,saddam,saddam,suicide,suicide,suicide,kill myself,kill myself,kill

Thanks and keep up the good work,

Dave Miller

I think that’s got to be my favorite ad copy ever written. It’s like poetry… I just wish I knew of a Poetry Slam competition taking place tonight. I’d love to stand up and deliver my new work.

Burger King Chicken Sandwich

come closer
frustrate, math, angry, mad
turn off the lights
kill myself
depression, depression, depression

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  1. dragon
    Posted March 21, 2011 at 11:26 pm | Permalink

    Woman Work

    I’ve got the children to tend
    The clothes to mend
    The floor to mop
    The food to shop
    Then the chicken to fry
    The baby to dry
    I got company to feed
    The garden to weed
    I’ve got shirts to press
    The tots to dress
    The can to be cut
    I gotta clean up this hut
    Then see about the sick
    And the cotton to pick.

    Shine on me, sunshine
    Rain on me, rain
    Fall softly, dewdrops
    And cool my brow again.

    Storm, blow me from here
    With your fiercest wind
    Let me float across the sky
    ‘Til I can rest again.

    Fall gently, snowflakes
    Cover me with white
    Cold icy kisses and
    Let me rest tonight.

    Sun, rain, curving sky
    Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone
    Star shine, moon glow
    You’re all that I can call my own.

    Maya Angelou

  2. Edward
    Posted March 22, 2011 at 8:18 am | Permalink

    Surely you aren’t suggesting that Maya Angelou has the subservient chicken write her poems.

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