Fucking YES!

Some internet fairy's posted all of Jonathan Meades' genius documentaries on You Tube!

Hither.

Link takes you to my personal favourite, his film about the Victorians. Eloquent, hilarious, illuminating and very, very clever. What TV was made for.

Can I be Jonathan Meades when I'm older, mummy?

God, The Chip Shop Awards are shit

I'm not even going to link to them. Don't waste your time. They're fucking awful. Same old material. Same overwrought knob gags. Year in, year out. If it were a TV series they'd've given it a format change by now. I mean, how do the judges manage to wade through so much shit?

-"Do you like this semi-solid turd, or this one?"

-"I can't decide. Is it semi-solid, not?"

-"Yeah, but you need to look really close."

-"Um... Yeah, it's kinda solid but..."

-"Oops. Sorry, it's dissolved under scrutiny."

-"Ah well, scoop another handful out the pan and see what we get."

-"Look! This one's got a tampon in it!"

A futile ad about the futility of life

Or to put it another way, a big fat brand-shaped fart that stinks of death.

All Change

Good day to you madam. Allow me to introduce oneself. My name is David Cameron, and I am the leader of your local Conservative Party.

I'd like to take a few moments, if I may, of your time. That is if you aren't already too busy fending off the wild gollywogs Gordon Blair has been releasing into this pretty little parish of ours of late.

Ha ha haw, only joking, of course.

Or am I? Afer all, it's a sad, plain fact that Tony Brown and his loony left buggered up our economy by letting queers into the Post Office all those years ago. And at this rate, the whole of the NHS will be so clogged up with half-caste homo-babies by 2012, we'll all have missed Wimbledon by the time any of us get seen by a doctor or (at the very least) a clergyman.

And that's why I'm here to talk to you today about change. The sort of change that was once such a central part of English life. The sort of change the milkman used to leave on your doorstep, before whistling Land of Hope Glory to himself. The sort of change one kept in the cup-holder of a Rover 800. The sort of change you wouldn't dream of giving a beggar, or the sort of change that's (frankly)better off in the pleated pocket of my mustard coloured corduroy trousers. I'm talking about the good old fashioned change we used to to tip slaves with in the 19th century - the small change that got you a thrupenny upright from a Whitechapel whore before the Ripper tore her apart. The same change one might then use to seal her eyes closed as they scraped her off the cobbles.

Change madam, is what this country so desperately needs. And so I beg of you to vote conservative in this coming election.

A very good day to you.

10 Things I Hate About You

1. Harelip

2. Smelly butties

3. Ringtones

4. Mouths words when reading

5. Difficult parents

6. Haunted staircase

7. Undressed wounds

8. Singer/songwriter

9. [CENSORED]

10. Is T4 presenter

Editorial from The Drum: How to use a telephone

In the latest of The Drum's essential Media Lectures series, Billy Palsy from Slop Communications tells us how to use the phone.

In the hurdy-gurdy, topsy-turvy rain forest that is today's media landscape, it's more important than life itself that agencies, brands, women and children can communicate effectively. I mean, fucking hell. We've all seen the media rain forest in Avatar. But until we evolve vaginas in our hair to spunk our minds into, we'll all just have to make do with traditonal media-minges. Like newspapers, televisions, soapboxes, saxophones, and -crucially- the telephone.

It might sound like bollocks to some of you, but the humble telephone is one of the most overlooked and powerful tools/weapons in the marketeers garage. And when it comes to building a brand, nothing can beat it. Not even in 3D.

So pick up your phone and dial a number. Any number! As soon as someone picks it up, tell them about your brand. If they don't want to listen and hang up, try a different number. Just keep telling them about your brand. Now, imagine your voice as a fist, clenching your brand to the throat of the listener. If necessary, imagine the benefits of your brand/product as a leather glove covering their mouth. Push these benefits hard into their face, and don't let them make a sound. Speak in a low, steady voice and make your position clear. Finally, when they whimper and collapse, slam down the phone.

Repeat as absolutely necessary.

Apologies, politics, any other business

Ut!

Been quiet around here of late. Me very sorry.

So there.

Ahem. Anyway, politics. It's everywhere at the minute.

EVERYWHERE.

Have you seen these shit posters?



If I were a bit sharper than I have been of late (and had Photoshop to hand) I'd've done a "spoof" version that said:

"I LIVE IN A PERIOD PROPERTY THAT GETS VERY MUGGY IN SUMMER

Vote for building change. Vote conservatory."

But as I say, I've been busy.

Still, if you're as shocked, and morbidly fascinated as I am by the current standard of political advertising, check out the blog of (the preposterously named/Tory sounding) Benedict Pringle. Been around a bit, but really come into its own of late.

Anyway, thank you all for coming. I'll have my donkey, Dre, type up the minutes and have them "cascaded", as the cunts say.

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome?

My Birthday. Enough Said.

Oh, piss off Dave

Look. It's the good old fashioned Tories being good and old fashioned.

Read as, the Conservatives will bring back some kind of pseudo-Cubs/Scouts, but refer to it as "a national service" in the hope of tricking old people into thinking they'll bring back National Service.

Genius.

Maybe if Cameron did a photoshoot with Graham Norton standing in a boat, and him on the quayside, then people might think they'll deport homosexuals too.

Soup de Journalist

Has anyone else noticed how the BBC's political correspondent, Nick Robinson, has become about 1000 times more self-opinionated and snippy since the election was announced?

Oh, and Robert Peston is doing his tax hike/slash speculation coverage in a really silly voice as well. It's like the BBC news team are all morphing into Loyd Grossman.

I mean, just look at those eyes. The chilling little cunt.

NOW SHOWING: Everything That Is Wrong With Advertising

Hello blog-pigs. Just a quick one to let you know about this great new film that came out last week. It's called "Everything That Is Wrong With Advertising" and you can view it here. It's only short, but it really does contain EVERYTHING that is wrong with advertising. All your pet-hates are in there: shit clients with nothing to say, chest-beating CEOs, dreary office spaces - even (and best of all) a cheeky young upstart who can't tell the difference between irony and sarcasm.

It's 5/5 in my book. Sure-fire unmissable must-see etc.

Someone

I bumped into someone again yesterday. I've never atually met them, seen what they look like, or know anything in particular about them. But I encounter them all the time. Everybody knows someone it seems.

"Someone might misunderstand us," says the Creative Director.

"Someone might not get it," says the client wrangler.

"Someone might take it literally," says the client.

"Misunderstand?" I say. "Take it literally?" I said. "What sort of person would take a commercial literally?"

"Well. Someone might."

So off I'm sent. Back to the drawing-board, to re-write, re-work, re-think an idea that someone might take the wrong way. Or misunderstand. Someone I've never even met, or know anything about. Someone entirely off the radar in fact, who may (or may not) inadvertantly stumble on to the radar one day, see my commercial, and may (or may not) not entirely appreciate it. I stare and I stew, agonize and appraise, stripping back the words, the subtlety, quality and integrity of the idea until I'm left with something nobody could misunderstand. Something broad and unequivocal; clumsy and unpleasant. Something indiscriminate and stupid that speaks to everyone.

Some time later, I'm in a bar and someone says, "I was talking to someone the other day. We were saying that advert you did was shit."