How appropriate this years halloween falls on a Monday.
Surely there is nothing scarier than that?
6 letters, a lifetime of fear.
However, I’m a generous fellow so I’m going to help you get even more in the mood by giving you something to watch.
15 of the supposed most ‘scary videos’ on Youtube.
And while that may not sound very inviting, let me tell you a story about the horror movie director, Wes Craven.
Years ago – while working on Sony – I got to interview him as part of our ‘feel’ strategy.
He was very generous with his time and opinion and left me with this gem as regards how he sees what he does.
“I make people feel alive by scaring them half to death”.
So rather than hate me for scaring you with this video, thank me for making you feel alive.
On a monday.
You’re welcome.
Filed under: Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Corporate Evil, Crap Campaigns In History, Creativity, Daily Fail, Fear
There’s a narrative that to be rich, you have to be smart.
Or very, very lucky.
Whether that viewpoint is true or not is probably more an individual take than a general view. But what isn’t talked about very often is how success can make you stupid.
The comedian Billy Connolly once said the world smells of fresh paint, because wherever the Queen walks [RIP] … 20 feet in front of her is someone painting the walls white.
Or said another way, wherever successful people go, ‘yes people’ follow.
Never did I see that more in action than when I lived in America.
OH MY GOD.
The ‘manage-up’ attitude was incredible to witness.
Basic thoughts were met with an ever increasing amount of fawning responses …
“That’s a brilliant idea”.
“Genius”.
“You’re so clever”.
And all this resulted in was leaders thinking they were Gods … walking on clouds thinking the world was looking up and worshiping them … pushing confidence in their own voice to greater and greater levels, so they spouted even more ridiculous viewpoints that they packaged-up as next-level Yoda statements for their entourage to fake swoon over.
I say this because I recently saw this …
WHAT THE HELL?
I mean, what does ‘the smartest praline in the World’ even mean?
Does it have Alexa inside them?
Or maybe the new iWatch Ultra?
Or did they get Einstein’s body, crush it up and placed fragments into each nut.
Seriously, what the hell are they going on about???
Well it gets worse.
No, really.
Because when you watch the ad, ‘the smartest praline in the world’ translates to the ability to be a sexpest on public transport … I kid you not.
The good news is this ad is apparently old … but it still perfectly demonstrates nothing can make you more egotistically stupid, than being successful.
Putin’s evil acts in the Ukraine have obviously repulsed the World – even though, the World has contributed to this situation by their inaction over many years.
However it is the rise of conversations relating to nuclear war that has got everyone terrified.
I don’t mind admitting I have found it very triggering and it’s the most fearful I’ve ever been about another World War.
Of course, compared to the poor people in the Ukraine, it’s nothing – and that’s why they need our support and our commitment to making our governments responsible for righting wrongs and dealing with the Putin situation that actively enabled.
Nothing highlights the craziness of the times than this headline:
That this newspaper headline can exist again – in 2022 – is mindblowling. Almost as mind-blowing as the idea anyone can be ‘well prepared’ for a nuclear attack.
But while this ‘news’ should have put me in a terrified state, it actually managed to raise a smile because the reality is London goes to pieces when there’s an inch of snow so to suggest it could deal with an all out nuclear attack is actually hilarious.
So thank you Sadiq Khan for the smiles and fuck you Putin for the fear.
Filed under: Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Culture, Fear, Love, Valentine's Day
Valentines Day.
The day of fear, disguised as love.
The day where society has been culturally bullied into making excessive expressions of adoration at hugely inflated prices.
OK, I appreciate I sound a total bastard … but I just find the whole thing ridiculous.
Maybe in the days where it was supposed to be anonymous, it had something going for it – though maybe these days, that qualifies as stalking – but now it’s just the worst example of marketing exploitation.
Oh I can hear the arguments …
“It makes sure there’s at least one day in the year where people feel loved and appreciated by others”.
It’s the same excuse that created Fathers Day, Mothers Day and god knows what else the flower/card industry came up with.
I remember when Earth Hour started to great fanfare.
For just one hour, turn off all power to save the planet.
And people did do it.
Literally.
An act of symbolism that achieved absolutely fuck all in changes of behaviour or changes to the climate. It was the ultimate act of convenience activism.
But to be fair, Earth Hour did want to change that.
They wanted to a bigger impact than simply awareness.
And can you remember what they did?
They added a + sign to their name.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
Having Valentines Day on a Monday is perfect because both are days you generally wish didn’t exist but you have to deal with.
The sad thing is love is a wonderful thing.
Yes – as Joy Division once sang – love can tear us apart.
But it is such a beautiful force of power.
It makes you giddy with joy, it makes you feel invincible, it creates safe environments, it gives you the confidence to take risks, it helps overcome barriers, it makes it OK to reveal emotions, it inspires songs and poems and stories …
Love deserves so much more of a celebration than a bunch of $100 flowers and a shitty card.
On a Monday.
A while back, I received an email from someone at Queen’s Medical Centre.
The QMC is a hospital near where I lived in Nottingham.
It was once the biggest hospital in Europe, but its real significance is it is the hospital that saved my eyesight, saved my Mum’s life, saved my Dad’s … until they couldn’t.
It’s a place that ignites an insane amount of emotions in me.
I obviously haven’t been in it for a long time, but the last occasion I was there – when I went with Mum to see her specialist to try and delay her op as it was going to coincide when Otis was going to be born – so much came flooding back.
It smelt the same.
It had the same bustle and noise.
It had the same cafes and newsagents.
It had the same corridors, doors and places of eery silence.
I have spent too much of my life in that place.
It may be a place that saved me and the most important members of my family … but it also subjected me to feelings that I never want to experience again.
Fear. Worry. Pain. Confusion.
So it was strange to receive this email from a medical student [QMC is also a medical training and research hospital] saying they had found this blog and discovered the posts I had written about my Mum and Dad dying.
They told me they were doing a project where they were reaching out to people who had suffered great loss to see if they would be willing to write about their experience and how they came back from their darkest points – so that it could help others going through a similar thing.
I was both flattered and terrified.
Flattered to be asked. Terrified what it may reignite.
Because despite Dad having been gone 23 years and Mum 7, I can still be affected by their loss with the most random of triggers.
And it was then I realised why I had to do it.
Because while Anthony Hopkins eyes can make me think of my Dad … or random elderly women in Thai Restaurants in Manhattan Beach can make me feel compelled to give them a hug … the rush of emotion they ignite has gone from drowning to reconnecting.
I know that might sound strange.
And I can assure you that isn’t how it feels when you’re in the moment of it.
But after – when the moment has been allowed to overwhelm – it is exactly how I feel.
Which is why I sent them this. I hope it does someone good, somewhere.
I hope it lets Mum and Dad know even though their loss can stab me with pain.
I’m OK.
And so is the pain.
Shadows
And then there was no one.
He was on his own.
An adult who still felt like a child but had no other choice than to grow up.
This was not part of the plan.
Yes, he had some vague notion of the concept of death.
But they were going to live forever.
But silence reinforced truth.
They had both gone.
And despite the decades of life he’d lived.
And despite the family he’d raised.
He never felt so alone.
Abandoned.
An orphan.
Drifting in a sea, with no life jacket left to protect him.
And as truth took hold
He entered a black hole of time.
Not knowing if he would be able to cope.
Not sure if he wanted to.
But somewhere deep inside there was a will that was starting to take hold.
And while the first days and weeks made him a slave to his tears.
Bit by bit he crawled his way back.
Out of the darkness and back into the light.
Still struggling to make sense of anything.
But out and alive.
But despite all the years
A shadow still remained.
In the background.
Far enough to be out the way.
Not far enough to fully escape it.
And it stays there, waiting to pounce whenever it pleases.
Waiting to drag you back into its darkness.
They say time is the great healer.
But that’s not exactly right.
Because time doesn’t heal, it reframes.
And while you never know when it will happen, you know when it does.
Because one day the shadow will strike.
Envelop you to drag you down.
Take you to a place that feels like a prison … except of being locked in, emotions escape out.
But the tears now have a different role.
They’re no longer about what you don’t have.
They’re for memories of what you did.
The silly, the ridiculous, the bland and the majestic.
Each tear becomes a memory of what those two meant to you.
The people you would give all you have to see again,
But now you realise they’re not completely gone.
Because the shadow is no longer a sign of loss.
But a reminder, they’re still there.