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Why everyone hate Google’s New Logo



google new logo

Whenever a brand wants to freshen itself up, you start hearing talk about “clean lines,” as if a few gorgeous, old-fashioned letters were keeping us in the Dark Ages. Google’s new logo, announced and unveiled this week, is the latest victim. Its old logo’s typeface—reminiscent of literature, newspapers, printing—had a reassuring hint of history, paying its respects to what it had come to improve upon and replace. The letters’ literary old serifs were subtly authoritative: the sturdy, handsome “G,” the stately, appealing little “oo,” the typewriterish, lovable “g,” the elegant “l,” the thoughtful “e.”

The new logo retains the rainbow of colors but sheds the grownup curlicues: it now evokes children’s refrigerator magnets, McDonald’s French fries, Comic Sans. Google took something we trusted and filed off its dignity. Now, in its place, we have an insipid “G,” an owl-eyed “oo,” a schoolroom “g,” a ho-hum “l,” and a demented, showboating “e.” I don’t want to think about that “e” ever again. But what choice do I have? Google—beneficent overlord, Big Brother, whatever you want to call it—is at the center of our lives. Now it has symbolically diluted our trust, which it originally had for all the right reasons.

Before Google, the word that sounded like “google” meant a few things. The first was googol, a number famously named by a child—an impossibly big thing to imagine, a one with a hundred zeroes, a blend of math and precocity and whimsy, with a name to match. (If you were a kid who knew other nerdy kids, they might get worked up about the immensity of something and say things like “a googolplex, a googolplex, infinity!”) The other Google was this guy in a top hat, from the comic strip “Barney Google and Snuffy Smith.” He had a song, too, and goo-goo-googly eyes. Google, googol, or googly—everything that sounded like “google” was funny and innocent, tied to childhood and imagination.

When Google first appeared, in the late nineties, it distinguished itself with a combination of intelligence and friendliness. Other search-engine sites were as cluttered and garbagey visually as they were inefficient functionally, simultaneously trying to sell and inform and bamboozle. AOL, with its goofy mailbox, bulky structure, and overpriced hand-holding service for the terrified, was obviously up to no good. Others—Yahoo!, HotBot, Netscape, Ask Jeeves, and so on—seemed well intentioned but were harder to parse. Google’s design, in comparison, was a revelation. It had true confidence. It didn’t need to pretend to be the post office or a butler. The white glow of a clean, bare screen, the brightly colored, old-fashioned letters, the name that came from math and whimsy—it was all very promising, and its brilliance spoke for itself. The logo was a key part of this. The design, like the site, didn’t patronize or manipulate—it said, Relax, we’re reasonable geniuses, the smartest possible combination of man and machine. Let us find what you need.

Google was an exhilarating miracle. Search results were fast, accurate, and well-prioritized; overnight, the Internet went from being a dizzying galaxy of data to a giant, well-catalogued library: a logical, coherent place. We were so grateful to be living in its world. We needed a leader to guide us into the future, and Google was it. It was like the Brooklyn Bridge, a welcome triumph of creativity and engineering.

There was a time when I clicked on Google’s sponsored links, above the search results, so I could help give money to Google. This is still my instinct, and I have to remind myself not to. Sometime around 2002, my friend Alice dressed as the Google logo for Halloween, complete with a button that said “I’m feeling lucky.” (She claims not to remember this, but I’m confident that if Gmail had existed then, I could prove it.) When Google introduced Gmail, in 2004, we were all thrilled that we’d now be able to take advantage of its elegant intelligence in the realm of e-mail, which, at the time, for most, consisted of some combination of clunky work-e-mail services and a junky, bulky Web-based service like Hotmail. But we were also freaked out, a bit, by the Orwellian announcement that Google would harvest our messages’ words to generate targeted advertising. Alice and I sportingly tried to prompt it in our very first Gmail messages to each other, mentioning spaceships, ice cream, owls, and Hawaii, in an effort to generate those ads.

We no longer need to worry about such prompts. Now Google is so smart and powerful, across so many platforms—Androids, a translation service, Chrome, Maps, Earth, self-driving cars, our collective brain—that our trust, our connection to that first thrilling moment, that gratitude and excitement, should be essential to maintain. You’d think the company would get that, and that rebranding, generally, feels suspicious. When I see that shifty new rainbow-colored “G” bookmarked on my toolbar, I recoil with mild distrust, thinking of when Philip Morris became Altria—No cigarettes here, see? Just rainbows!—or when British Petroleum suggested we think of it as Beyond Petroleum, or when the Bush Administration would name something Freedom.

Google, in the announcement, describes the change as part of “a new logo and identity family” for use on “even the tiniest screens.” But would a few serifs have been so cumbersome? We don’t instinctively care about the brand unity Google wants to achieve with its new mega-company, Alphabet, of which it is now a part. Especially because Alphabet takes our most elementally wonderful general-use word—the name of the components of language itself—and reassigns it, like the words tweet, twitter, vine, facebook, friend, and so on, into a branded realm. In Larry Page’s letter explaining it to us, Alphabet is illustrated with a bunch of kids’ building blocks. Operation Childlike Innocence, Phase One.

We loved the old logo, and we loved what Google was. Whatever it’s up to, whatever its intentions, Google should want to keep our love. So in the name of love, Google, give us back our serifs. Let this sans-serif building-block refrigerator-magnet silliness be the New Coke to your Coke, the Qwikster to your Netflix, the Freedom Tower to your One World Trade. Go back to your beautiful old serifs, and we’ll be that much likelier to let your self-driving cars drive us around.

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Trump to meet with Kim Jong-Un in Singapore on June 12




US President Donald Trump and North Korean leader Kim Jong-Un will be meeting in Singapore on June 12 in what would be a historic moment for world peace.

In a tweet sent out by President Trump on May 10 (Thursday), the president confirmed the meeting and added that they would both “try to make it a very special moment for World Peace.”


The leaders are expected to discuss North Korea’s nuclear weapons development and testing program which has been the cause of world-wide tensions for some time now.

In response to Trump’s tweet, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs confirmed that they would be hosting the event. They said in a statement:

Singapore is pleased to host the meeting between President of the United States Donald J Trump and Democratic People’s Republic of Korea State Affairs Commission Chairman Kim Jong Un on 12 June 2018.

The meeting is particularly notable because it would be the first between a serving US president and a North Korean leader.

Speaking of the meeting, Trump said: “I think we have a very good chance of doing something very meaningful. My proudest achievement will be – this is part of it – when we denuclearize that entire peninsula.”




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Mother-in-law irate at Daughter who brought pig-shaped bread on Qing Ming



This Qing Ming Festival, something interesting happened!


Roasted pig is typically one of the most important offerings to bring to your ancestor’s tomb during Qing Ming Festival. One whole roasted pig can cost up to a few hundred Yuan when it is high in demand. Recently, a lady decided to spice things up (maybe in the wrong way at the wrong time!) to save money but did not win the approval of her mother-in-law.

In this year’s Qing Ming, Lee, decided to flex her creative muscles and improvise to save money. She inventively replaced the O.G. roasted pig with a loaf of bread in the shape of a pig shaped like which she ordered from a bakery in Guangzhou, China.

Externally, the bread looked strikingly similar to the real deal and it even had the golden brown crust that resembles crispy pig skin! The bread helped to cut cost as it cost way cheaper than the original roasted pig.

One day before Qing Ming, Lee arrived at the cemetery with the pig-shaped bread and her mother-in-law became deranged after finding out the situation. She saw the bread as an insult to their ancestors and family, and went on to call Lee ‘unfilial’.

Lee was devastated as her plan to save some money backfired. In the last few years, she would spend a few hundred Yuan to order a roasted pig from a local restaurant during the lead up to Qing Ming. Understandably, the cost of the pigs has become a financial burden, weighing heavily on her.

Furthermore, the fact of the matter is that the roasted pig would usually end up in the trash bin because her family is unable to finish such a huge size of the roasted pig.

“It’s the thoughts that count when we offer food to our ancestors. It doesn’t matter if it’s a roasted pig or a pig-shaped bread, they all represent our thoughts,” Lee said.

It was reported that the pig-shaped bread only cost 39.90 Yuan (approx RM24.50). With a voucher, the price can be reduced to 20 Yuan (approx RM13), which is a tenth of the roasted pig’s price! Sounds like this is more worth it doesn’t it?

With the ever-increasing cost of living, more and more people are switching to pig-shaped bread or even “vegetarian” pigs as offerings for their ancestors nowadays. The younger generation is also doing away with traditional food offerings to reduce wastage.

What do you think of this situation? Tell us what you would do if you were in Lee’s shoes!


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43-year-old businesswoman mistaken for a sex worker when her number was shared on adult site




A BUSINESSWOMAN in Singapore was shocked when she was mistaken for a sex worker when a number of people texted her for “special service”, China Press reported.

According to Zaobao,The 43-year-old received the WhatsApp message on Saturday from an unknown man enquiring about her “part-time job”.

“I was upset and asked him how he got my number.”

“At first he told me that it was from a friend but later said he had got the wrong number.”

“When I said I’d lodge a police report, he admitted that he got my number from a porn site, and kept apologising,” she said.

Less than two hours later, the woman got a similar text message from another man.

The victim said she learnt that someone had posted her number on the website with a message that she could only provide sex service after 9pm because she had to take care of her children during the day.

“I am a businesswoman and I’ve never been involved in vice,” she said.

TOP Photo via Zaobao

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