A website needs your help

The other day I was translating, Hebrew > English, a very poorly written magazine article about antique cars . While I don't share collectors' passion for antique or vintage cars, I am a car-lover, and am generally interested in articles about cars. So I found it quite annoying that the writer managed to make such a mess of a potentially interesting subject. At some point I asked myself, who the .… is this journalist anyway, and proceeded to Google, promptly landing on the writer's website. Oy vey. I dare not say more. (Can honest criticism be labeled as libel?)
The style is pretentious, wordy, trite; the grammar flawed. And as for the one page in English – all I could do was roll my eyes at the literal translation.

Ordinarily, I'd just shrug it off as another poorly written website, one among so many. However, this one irked me because it purports to be a model of good writing, while in fact being a model of the exact opposite. It is not a personal blog or website; it is a commercial website; the Internet business card of a person who claims to be a professional writer, editor, copywriter, PR person, and "Hebrew-English-Hebrew" (sic!) translator.

A few examples, which I think speak for themselves:

Hebrew:



English:
• XYZ's long time involvement in the media includes journalism for newspapers, magazines and websites on a variety of the cultural aspects of life style phenomena and up to date social issues.
• Perception articles
• Scripts for perception clips and movies

Well, my perception is that this website needs help.

Miryam Blum, in her interesting talk at the ITA conference, proposed a way of getting new clients: find websites in your field of expertise and interest, and – if they need improving or translation -- call the person in charge and offer your services. Diplomatically, of course.

Does anyone feel up to phoning the owner of the website under discussion and offering to edit it? Somehow, I don't feel brave enough.
--------------------------

No More Sick Funds

Yay! Mazal Tov! An ad on the J. Post that's well-written! No mention of the name of the advertising agency, so I can't give them points. I'm talking about a huge ad by Perrigo Israel, entitled "Take it like a man…" Sensible visual. Clean colors. Good text. Though inconsistent punctuation: you gotta decide whether you place a period at the end of each bulleted text or not. I think the grammatical consensus is that you shouldn't. But inconsistency seems to me worse.

However, lest you should think that Perringo and/or the J. Post – whoever is responsible for the English text – got away with a clean sheet, please note the oval stamp saying "Available in Sick Funds at a reduced price".

Guys, there are no Sick Funds anymore, haven't you heard? Implying that we folks who go to the doctor's are "sick", or that the establishments taking our money are "sick funds" is a no-no. All erstwhile kupot holim are now called Healthcare Services, or Healthcare Service Providers, or the like. So be well. Stay healthy. And translate correctly.

Botox inherited?

One of the most distasteful and off-putting ad campaigns I've had the displeasure of encountering in the past year or two, is the one by cosmetician Ronit Raphael.
The series of ads shows good looking, locally well-known mothers-and-daughters (e.g. actress Mili Avital & her mother, Pilates guru Dalia Mantver & her daughter), and runs a slogan which I find offensive.
The Hebrew says:
כי דברים טובים מעבירים בירושה
[Transliteration: Ki dvarim tovim ma'avirim bi'yrusha]
I don't know if it's been officially translated into English. Basically, it means "because good things should be passed on to the next generation".

Excuse me, lady, what is it exactly that you are passing on to your daughter, and how? Do you mean by heredity, by education, or by bequeathing it to her?
Is it the phone number of your beautician, who has done such a wonderful plastic job on you that you'd like your daughter to enjoy the same?

Do you truly feel that filling your lips with Botox is something to be encouraged and made into a tradition to be passed on from mother to daughter ad infinitum?

What are these "dvarim tovim" (good things) that you are giving her? An appreciation of beauty, or of superficiality? You know, lady, she's got your genes whether you like it or not. It has nothing to do with Ms. Raphael or anyone else.
I suppose your real message to her is: Hey, kid, sorry I don't have chiseled features and a peaches-and-cream complexion to pass on to you… But I've got the next best thing: the name of a good plastic surgeon and an expensive beautician who's good at selling illusions in a jar. So no worries, kiddo; Grandma's amulet will protect you from the Evil Eye and this phone number will help you arrive at your final resting place looking plastic-perfect. Have a good life!

-----------------------
A case in point:
The latest addition to this campaign is writer Smadar Shir and her daughter. I first met Smadar Shir when she began writing for La'Isha magazine, over three decades ago. She was always a pretty woman. But in this most recent publicity picture, (J. Post, Feb. 26, p. 18) I hardly recognized her; her delicate upper lip had been plumped up in accordance with recent trends, making her look rather vulgar, in my opinion. As for the daughter – I have no idea what she really looks, or looked like. For all I know, the girl may have naturally puffy lips and her mom may have chosen to try and look like her. Whatever.
-------------------------

For someone else's take on the same subject, in Hebrew, see the second item down the page on the following link:
http://www.tapuz.co.il/Blog/ViewEntry.asp?EntryId=1382555

-----------------------
Botox is a registered trademark of Allergan Inc.