So with Jude dancing the silent dance of a woman who’s just seen Travis do a solo before finding a fully charged I-pod and with the animals cowering from a thunder storm that seems boundless in its ability to terrify I find myself with a couple of minutes to bang out something to the blog.
I have no idea what I’m going to write – doubtless it will be more profane than profound but then as one anonymous person here commented we ‘advertising types, like, often mistake shallow sham for profundity.”
Of course they didn’t express it quite that well – but then why waste eloquence on ‘advertising types.’? The Ad Exec. is, of course, Hollywood shorthand for the emotionally stunted, the self centered, the crass, the vulgar… the guy who needs to learn a life lesson.
He’s a professional and personal manipulator. A skilled liar. Duplicitous, deceitful and downright detestable.
And I know ad’ men very much like that. I know dentists, doctors, school crossing guards and supermarket managers like that too.
I also know ad’ people who are empathetic, insightful, human, funny, flawed and rippingly good company. I don’t know any supermarket managers like that – though I guess that there are lots of them out there.
I actually think that what made me bristle about the post was the use of the word “like”… it conveyed a valley girl empty-headedness that I’ve not seen in advertising. Oh we’re many things – arrogant, egotistical, over-paid, over-sexed, self-important, expensively scruffy and at times a little too removed from reality but I’ve yet to hear a good ad’ person that wasn’t concise and precise in their articulation of an idea.
So anonymous, like, say what you will, man; because, like, it’s like totally, you know? Dig?
Does this face look bothered?
Friday, July 21, 2006
Nary a whiff
So the office party came and went with nary a whiff of scandal. Finance fannies remained covered - if vigorously shaken. The mailroom didn't start a rousing Viking Skol chorus of 'minge, minge, minge, minge" and not a single creative was caught red handed or genital'd.
All rather adult - perhaps because we all live such debauched lives the rest of the time that a party is a chance to relax without the pressure of 'the crazy ad folk" moniker.
And it is pressure. As the concert violinist / diplomat we had in yesterday said whilst playing the opening of a violent death piece - "pressure, panic, more pressure, death" - it's how a fugue works, it's how most business works.
I woke up this morning tired. And not because I had a curry and a beer with the Lord's Whimsy and Willy last night - but because since I've been back at the agency (5 days now) I've not started work after 8am, not finished work before 8pm, have been to 23 "meetings", a party, have been asked to change jobs, to get on planes, to fix things left undone and - of course - to work the weekend.
Well bollocks to that.
And on that decisive if petty note I shall bid you adieu and call a man I know in Brazil about the differences between retail there and here.
All rather adult - perhaps because we all live such debauched lives the rest of the time that a party is a chance to relax without the pressure of 'the crazy ad folk" moniker.
And it is pressure. As the concert violinist / diplomat we had in yesterday said whilst playing the opening of a violent death piece - "pressure, panic, more pressure, death" - it's how a fugue works, it's how most business works.
I woke up this morning tired. And not because I had a curry and a beer with the Lord's Whimsy and Willy last night - but because since I've been back at the agency (5 days now) I've not started work after 8am, not finished work before 8pm, have been to 23 "meetings", a party, have been asked to change jobs, to get on planes, to fix things left undone and - of course - to work the weekend.
Well bollocks to that.
And on that decisive if petty note I shall bid you adieu and call a man I know in Brazil about the differences between retail there and here.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Office Party Day
It's the office party today. Thankfully the temperature is dropping, so the chance of Mavis from finance turning up half clad and half cut is reduced dramatically.
I've never been one for office parties. I did one in London and saw a guy killed en route to it. Vowed never again - until Asia when the parties were on Indonesian Isles or were 3 day jaunts to fabulous cities (such as Bangkok)
For some strange reason I"ve been to quite a few of the US office parties. The have a penchant for the outdoors, for free drinks that run out soon after people arrive and for letting people from 'the basement department' 'DJ'
This year all of the people that I loved / enjoyed partying with in the NY office have disappeared... either to exciting new places and challenges or to places that offer them money by the boatload (and their chicks for free)
Still I should show up, prove that I'm alive and then jump on the bus home to the busom of my family - hopefully before the busom of Mave the Rave from finance becomes scorched indelibly on my retina.
I've never been one for office parties. I did one in London and saw a guy killed en route to it. Vowed never again - until Asia when the parties were on Indonesian Isles or were 3 day jaunts to fabulous cities (such as Bangkok)
For some strange reason I"ve been to quite a few of the US office parties. The have a penchant for the outdoors, for free drinks that run out soon after people arrive and for letting people from 'the basement department' 'DJ'
This year all of the people that I loved / enjoyed partying with in the NY office have disappeared... either to exciting new places and challenges or to places that offer them money by the boatload (and their chicks for free)
Still I should show up, prove that I'm alive and then jump on the bus home to the busom of my family - hopefully before the busom of Mave the Rave from finance becomes scorched indelibly on my retina.
Monday, July 17, 2006
How bored were we?
My first Monday at work in an aeon and by 4pm I was so desperate for something to do that I engaged with Pilar (the office mate formally known at Mari) in a spot of coffee-table making.
Amazing what you can do with a couple of cast off mannequins, a copy of the excellent but sadly not available in a store near you 'Hold My Skateboard while I kiss your girlfriend' (whilst, surely?) and too much time
Especially when you're bored. And I was bored. My data was showing that people liked to shop at stores located conveniently for them and appreciated fair pricing. More data was being purchased to prove that this was true regardless of how much money you threw at it.
I'm much more interested in the 'dog blanket' theory of shopping. That great prices are just that, great, until they start to attract people looking only to buy Cider and Dog Food - and buy them with the quarters that they've collected during the day. As my friend Kim always said - it's a fine line between thrifty and pikey.
Still I like the pic. MInd if Tuesday is as slow as today turned out to be I may be posting an installation piece made with these dummy's discarded legs.
Amazing what you can do with a couple of cast off mannequins, a copy of the excellent but sadly not available in a store near you 'Hold My Skateboard while I kiss your girlfriend' (whilst, surely?) and too much time
Especially when you're bored. And I was bored. My data was showing that people liked to shop at stores located conveniently for them and appreciated fair pricing. More data was being purchased to prove that this was true regardless of how much money you threw at it.
I'm much more interested in the 'dog blanket' theory of shopping. That great prices are just that, great, until they start to attract people looking only to buy Cider and Dog Food - and buy them with the quarters that they've collected during the day. As my friend Kim always said - it's a fine line between thrifty and pikey.
Still I like the pic. MInd if Tuesday is as slow as today turned out to be I may be posting an installation piece made with these dummy's discarded legs.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Too fat to sunbathe
Call me uncharitable if you must but I’ve just had what should have been a perfect afternoon in the park ruined by people who insisted on removing their shirts despite the bodies that they ‘sported; beneath them.
As the weather got hotter (real-feel 41c) the sea of blue-white veined, gravity obeying flesh on display grew exponentially - until the entire park was alive with the sight of rolls of fat oscillating revoltingly with each step towards next grazing opportunity. And with the sound of saggy tits hitting flabby knee as women barely in contained by oversized, mismatched, bra and panties made beeline for the ice cream van.
It was revolting. A mass of overfed, under-shamed blobs ramming more and more barbequed food into their revolting gullets. Spitting onion as they asked for the next hot-dog, eyes darting around ready to glare at any slack jawed witness to the consequences of their gluttony.
Now I’m not in great shape myself at the moment. Which is why the T-Shirt stays on and the shorts do more than merely cover my nads.
What is it motivates these people? Sure there’s always somebody with a worse body than yours, but then there’s always someone with worse manners than yours and you don’t take a dump in the fruit bowl at dinner, do you?
I felt sorry for the realtors trying to flog their high end apartments with ‘view if the park’ – a view into an abattoir would have been more appealing.
So here’s a plea. Please, fat people of the ‘burg, keep the shirts on and the shorts long. In return I promise not to start a web site called www.see_the_freaks_eat.com and swear that I’ll not post your pictures there. Deal?
As the weather got hotter (real-feel 41c) the sea of blue-white veined, gravity obeying flesh on display grew exponentially - until the entire park was alive with the sight of rolls of fat oscillating revoltingly with each step towards next grazing opportunity. And with the sound of saggy tits hitting flabby knee as women barely in contained by oversized, mismatched, bra and panties made beeline for the ice cream van.
It was revolting. A mass of overfed, under-shamed blobs ramming more and more barbequed food into their revolting gullets. Spitting onion as they asked for the next hot-dog, eyes darting around ready to glare at any slack jawed witness to the consequences of their gluttony.
Now I’m not in great shape myself at the moment. Which is why the T-Shirt stays on and the shorts do more than merely cover my nads.
What is it motivates these people? Sure there’s always somebody with a worse body than yours, but then there’s always someone with worse manners than yours and you don’t take a dump in the fruit bowl at dinner, do you?
I felt sorry for the realtors trying to flog their high end apartments with ‘view if the park’ – a view into an abattoir would have been more appealing.
So here’s a plea. Please, fat people of the ‘burg, keep the shirts on and the shorts long. In return I promise not to start a web site called www.see_the_freaks_eat.com and swear that I’ll not post your pictures there. Deal?
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