Being Beta

Commercial: 26 Treasures - The Book

2012-01-27T12:46:00.003Z

So you've no doubt all heard on Unbound, the whizzy new way to get books out into the world.

We at 26 are delighted to be working with them on 26 Treasures: The Book. It's grown out of the various 26 Treasures exhibitions that have happened around the country the last few years, where writers are paired off with objects in various museums, then dared to explore the relationship between object, words, writer, place, time, memory...

It's led to the creation of a new form - the 'sestude' - and lots and lots of wonderful writing.

Which you could now have in your hands. All you have to do is head over to the Unbound website and pledge your support.

And considering that doing so means that you could get your hands on new writing by (deep breath) Andrew Motion, Gillian Clarke, Alexander McCall Smith, Paul Muldoon, Bernard McLaverty, Maura Dooley and Michael Longley, amongst others; well, really, I can't believe you haven't already.

Poetry: Penny secrets

2012-01-06T12:30:00.000Z

A new thing. I have no idea whether I'll keep it up. Whether I'll be able to keep it up. But, y'know. Worth a shot and all that.

Hark! A half marathon!

2012-01-04T10:00:00.000Z

So, I'm finally putting my creeky knee joints to some practical use, and running the 2012 Bath Half Marathon in March, for the grand lads and lasses of CoppaFeel!

You'll get bored of me asking for these shakedowns with increasingly hysterical regularity, so why not do yourself a favour, and just give now? ;)

Yearnote: 2011

2011-12-31T10:00:00.000Z

I really can't get my stuff together (and truth be told, don't think that enough that is that different happens to me to warrant them) to do weeknotes.

But I thought even I can get my stuff together to do a yearnote.

It has been a busy year. Two new bathrooms at home, for starters.

Then there was a trip to St Petersberg:

We had two new lodgers come and join us on a permanent basis:

Then we left them for a bit and went to Glasgow for a short while:

Somehow I managed to get promoted too.

And picked up an award for a poem too (not my hair).

I made a wedding in Italy with 30 seconds to spare, and when I got my breath back, managed to read a poem:

There was an exhibition:

And a birthday treat, at Camp Nou too:

All in all, not too bad. See you on the other side, and happy 2012.

Commercial: Genevieve Conaty's 'Your Own Brand of Candy'

2011-12-14T10:30:00.005Z

OK, I'm wildly biased as I've known Gen for ages now, and I know she's a genius, but if you're looking for something different to listen to this Christmas, you can't do worse than her debut album which came out a few weeks ago.

Imagine a sun-kissed Aimee Mann, singing with the lyrical wit of Neil Hannon of tales of summers, ice cream, romances between feeders, that sorta thing. (And if you recognise the artwork, that'll be because Uberpup had a hand in that.)

Seriously, it's lovely and wonderful and you should get you some candy now.

Listorama: Facebook status updates vol 22

2011-12-07T10:00:00.000Z

BetaRish (is)...

is a secret state

as it starts to spin out of control

Would that you would change the world thrice, not just once

What you do in your head, you do in your head

is standing on the sidelines with his hands tied, watching the show

is disintegrating celluloid

Rishi D, on a mission

is ready for the gridlock

wants birthday party cheesecake jelly bean boom

is fighting warriors of smoke

will step back in line

is not Devo

Everything’s always the same until the moment it’s not

is riding the joy joy papose

has the space blues

is a stenographer

wants a vote on the resolution amongst the full members of the council

Kiss kiss hoof

is on the sea floor, the mammal you adore

Let the Albert Hall shake. Off to see PJ Harvey

Pumpkin eyes are watching you

Do you think All Saints the shop celebrates All Saints the day?

is a genius, showman, powerbroker, creative paladin…

is later than expected

The bath of caffeine isn’t working

is down on the disco floor

can’t sing, isn’t pretty and his legs are thin

is pattern spotting

Post hack ergo propter hack

The moment before the moment is the moment that matters

Christmas card shoot with Malachite and Asturias not quite going to plan

is part tiger

Sincerity is the curse of the blessed

has been nothing but supadup nice to you

is seeing through new eyes

is a spoilt Elizabethan child

is building a Potemkin life

is a shower scudding through London

Bloody hell, this is late

KLAXON

Tick follows tock follows tick

I must go now, to where I am going to

What you do in your head, you do in your head

is a gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover

At Camp Nou

So yes, I managed to successfully make it past what they call ‘The Messiah Year’

Thanks you all muchly for the birthday wishes. You are all too kind, and I love you all

is launching Call Centre Creative this morning

Commercial: What Tim Cook's Apple will be like

2011-12-06T10:00:00.000Z

Rather counter-intuitively, the most revealing anecdote about the future of Apple to be found in Issacson's monumental-yet-slight (a wonderful trick of the higher American journalese) biography of Steve Jobs is this one, concerning a meeting Tim Cook early in his role as chief operating officer in 1998:

...Cook was told of a problem with one of Apple's Chinese suppliers. "This is really bad," he said. "Someone should be in China driving this." Thirty minutes later he looked at an operations executive sitting at the table and unemotionally asked, "Why are you still here?" The executive stood up, drove directly to the San Francisco airport, and bought a ticket to China. He became one of Cook's top deputies.

My point is: Cook is not that different from Jobs.

Fiction: Paris

2011-12-05T14:40:00.002Z

I wrote this for a competition; I failed to get the entry in. Ho hum.

---

12.30 was a bad idea. She’d always known it was a bad idea, that it was going to be a bad idea. But she hadn’t felt able to say no to him.

Hadn’t that been the truth of their time together? Adam had found something that bypassed her usual – her extraordinary – defences, that she’d spent the decade establishing, fortifying. She was pleased, no, proud, of the citadel that protected her against any chance of inappropriate love.

He first found it, the ability to short circuit her desire to say no, one night, one random night at the Proud Galleries in Camden, filled with canapés and champagne and cocktails and conversation, all of it heady and flirtatious and inappropriate, all at once. He hadn’t even bothered to hide his wedding ring; the challenge was on her, clearly, obviously.

To her surprise, she accepted with barely a demur. The citadel shook, and yet it didn’t shake. Funny how the rules you make for yourself are the easiest to break.

It was their third or fourth time sleeping together – about 10 days later – that Adam suggested doing something different. He’d thrown this over his shoulder as he was getting dressed, and she was expecting, on the previous days’ evidence, some sort of request that would have her diving to the box below her bed, the contents of which she hadn’t investigated for some time, and only fitfully remembered buying. But no.

“We should start meeting in the morning, first thing. I’m better then.” She had blushed at this. “It’s OK; I’ll say I’m running to work. I might even do it sometimes.” She’d accepted this too. But once, she’d teased him about how he’d arrived at her door already sweaty, and how she should be the one to get him into that state. That had elicited a grimace, a grunt, a cold fuck.

She didn’t say anything like that again.

Adam’s policy had had to change after she’d taken the job in Paris. It hadn’t merited much discussion, and she had been glad of that. Because she’d have thought it a bit odd that it would be this that he’d choose to make a scene over; and it would pre-suppose that he actually had a greater claim over her than either of them might have cared to acknowledge.

The pretence had lasted about two weeks, just enough time for her to get settled in the flat behind Sacre Coeur which had been arranged for her, and to find the true, necessary landmark of her neighbourhood; the best stop for coffee, breakfast and a cigarette, all to be grabbed and consumed in a five minute walk between shutting her building’s front door and descending into the Metro, the sliver of carnet fluttering between her fingers.

It was while she was making the reverse parabola the second Monday night that her phone started being impatient in her handbag. It was his signature style never to hang up, however long she fought to ignore the ring, a battle which Adam always won, but which had the paradoxical effect that, on his side at least, the conversation was always a breathless rush of pleading demands and wheedling cajoling towards the inevitable. She hadn’t missed it, that tone, and yet now that the mobile was unstoppable in its insistence to be answered, she had, she did, she did.

So the early mornings continued, “just in a different city”, but her curiosity was never roused enough to ask him how he made the logistics work. She idly wondered about it from time to time – which hotels he booked, as he must have done, as he never stayed; the ruse of the running gear, the route he took to the flat.

How he always made it up the Rue Lamarck, only just out of breath, like he was demonstrating that he was making some effort, sure, but holding the rest back for her.

And now this. A change; an uncertainty. He said over the phone that it had to be lunchtime, 12.30, and she was about to try and be larky and say he wasn’t taking a sufficiently Francophone approach to his infidelity, what with their trysts being between 7 and 9, not 5 and 7, as they always were in the films. But before she managed to fire this little bit of gentle repartee off, he’d fallen very silent, and then suddenly blurted out: “Give me a chance to win you over again.”

‘A chance to win you over again.’ She examined that thought from every possible angle, as she made her way down through Montmartre at 12, a hastily confected excuse phoned into the office giving her a chance to get ready for him.

It was revealing nothing, the more she looked at it, and she was distracted by the three couples she passed, kissing openly, celebrating the clichés of being together that she’d never be able to do with him.

And now here she was, outside the Hotel du Nord, the canal beside the Quai de Jemmapes glittering with menace. She was holding a spray of flowers that refused to act as a parasol from the spits of rain that had started to fall.

Then it clicked. Why 12.30 had been a bad idea. Lunchtime is for people in love, she realised. Not what we have. And it was then she knew he wasn’t going to come.

Poetry: Soon enough came fearfulness

2011-11-17T14:39:00.001Z

I have been remiss in telling you that I have a new found poem over at Verbatim Poetry.

On the future and the past

2011-11-15T10:00:00.000Z

So, at some point during Tale Torrent last week, I tweeted this:

'Inherent in the future is a fetishisation of the past. Discuss.'

I was being throwaway, of course, but also semi-serious, I think. So I was very gratified that one of the people in the audience, Martin Headon, took it upon himself to post a very thoughtful answer to the question, which is well worth you reading in full.

This bit in particular particularly leapt out at me:

"What we need to do is relate progress not to the past, but to people - to human needs and instincts."

Now, when it comes to new media technologies, certainly, I don't think we're very good at this. Consider, at the almost laughably microscopic level, how we try and find an excuse to run a new production technique in an ad, rather than finding an idea that, y'know, might demonstrate some relevancy or aspect of the product or service under consideration.

But I wonder if, philosophically speaking, we're not at some level doomed to do this. That's to say: we can't imagine the future perfectly, with a blank sheet, as the only reference points we have are the present and the past.

We're trapped by the very experience that we have, and that means we cannot help but refer to the past when trying to explain or articulate our visions of the future.

Which might not have been a problem, when forgetting was easier. But now, with a permanent, outboard memory, we are surrounded by the detritus of what has just gone before, and that clouds our views and judgement; we're privileging recency rather than relevancy when it comes to the hard thinking that we need to be doing.

I'm not sure there's any escape from this catch 22 (or indeed, that there needs to be) - more that we need to be aware that our thoughts about the future don't spring from nowhere, and that the value judgments that are inherent within them are as much influenced by the past as anything else.

Commercial: Some Young Punks

2011-11-14T11:19:00.004Z

Spotted at the Adnams shop in Spitalfields yesterday: a bottle of something called 'Monsters, Monsters, ATTACK!'.

It's a white wine, I think.

It appears to be made by an Australian outfit called Some Young Punks.

They might just be the craziest thing to happen to the language of the wine industry ever.

I will let you know once I've tried a bottle.

#taletorrent

2011-11-11T14:52:00.001Z

Last night, Mandatory Thinking and me told the story of Self Portrait Postcards, as part of this fab night. Hats off to James for organising it all; and the great story tellers we met.

Commercial: Self Portrait Postcards on Imperica

2011-11-03T12:30:00.002Z

Just a quick note to say that Imperica has done an in-depth write up of the Self Portrait Postcards project.

Worth a squiz. But then I would say that.

A Boudica in black

2011-10-31T10:22:00.000Z

That she was magnificent and majestic was not really a surprise. What perhaps was unexpected was the steampunk vibe that was emanating from the stage; blink and for all the world it was like a young Queen Victoria was leading a motley bunch of carnival hucksters through a series of decorous waltzes at a village church hall. But then you blinked again, and there was the spirit of England, a Boudica in black, singing of white chalk, and making the Albert Hall shake.

Commercial: Of Chelsea FC

2011-10-24T09:39:00.003+01:00

This was spotting at Kings Cross yesterday.

Bit out of the way for an advert for Chelsea FC, you might think. I mean, it's not going to convince any Gooners on the way back from Emirates to change their minds, is it?

And then the copy. And specifically, the 'prawn sandwiches'.

This, in most football's fans, is not a good reference. Here's what Roy Keane had to say on the matter:

"Sometimes you wonder, do they understand the game of football?" he splutters. "We're 1-0 up, then there are one or two stray passes and they're getting on players' backs. It's just not on. At the end of the day they need to get behind the team. Away from home our fans are fantastic, I'd call them the hardcore fans. But at home they have a few drinks and probably the prawn sandwiches, and they don't realise what's going on out on the pitch. I don't think some of the people who come to Old Trafford can spell 'football', never mind understand it."

So, if I understand this correctly, Chelsea are actively recruiting those fans who aren't that bothered about the game?

Would it be too mean to say, that sounds about right for them?

Commercial: Will Aid

2011-10-19T10:00:00.000+01:00

Before you get drowned in Movember requests, which you will, indisputably, I thought I'd draw your attention to an equally worthy cause that's likely to get overlooked next month: Will Aid.

What's that you say? You don't need a will? Why's that? Have you cracked ever-lasting living? Are you immortal?

Then you need a will.

And if you get one drawn up next month, not only can you get it done professionally, it'll cost you just your donation.

Easy as.

You can find your nearest participating solicitor on the website, or get in touch with my friend Nick Hall, who explains more about the scheme here, and will happily draw something up for you. And why not badger any of your lawyer friends to take part too?

Poetry: Poet's Path

2011-10-18T13:57:00.003+01:00

Just a quick note to say that I'll shall be around on Sunday morning, helping out somewhere along the Poet's Path, part of the Bloomsbury Festival. Along the path you'll find a canopy featuring words, trees and your chance to write your own poem. What more do you need?

Poetry: Untitled by Laurel Nakadate

2011-10-06T10:01:00.003+01:00

Untitled from laurel nakadate on Vimeo.

Discovered yesterday, and not by the channels you might have thought.

Laurel Nakadate's film is based around porn actresses reading the poems of Dora Malech. I was trepidatious to say the least; but actually it's brilliant - the energy and vitality of the words offset by the bathos of the readings.

HT: HTMLGiant

Oh, and Happy National Poetry Day!

Commercial: To Fly. To Advertise

2011-10-05T14:00:00.000+01:00

Aye, late to the party on this one, and perhaps it's the influence of having recently read Hegarty's book, but I have to say I really like BA's new stuff.

Big, bold, confident, heart-warming, and saying that there are somethings that price alone just can't get you. it's right for the brand, and right for the market too, I'd add: not everyone can win by commoditising themselves, if you see what I mean...

Commercial: My Earliest Memory

2011-10-05T10:00:00.000+01:00

A lovely little project, being curated by PurpleSime: can you *actually* remember what your earliest memory is? And then distill it into 150 words or less?

It's trickier than you think. There's some lovely haiku-like memories already, as well as some more worrying things involving crocodiles.

Go on, throw your synapses into the ring.

Poetry: Syllabic Poetry

2011-10-04T09:45:00.000+01:00

Poet Mark Antony Owen has had the genius idea of launching a site dedicated to syllabic poetry.

It's called Syllabic Poetry.

He's done me the honour of publishing something of mine; a wee little tribute to Dutch football.

Enjoy, and why not also submit your own syllabic creations?

Listorama: Facebook status updates vol 21

2011-10-04T09:41:00.001+01:00

BetaRish (is)...

That was you told

has cracked, wants caffeine

The push

is thinking in telegrams

How about this heat?

is crazy like SJ Perelman

Waiting for The Greater Gatsby

still remembers all his childhood boasts

is full of fanfaronade

is donning a tin hat

is in a recursive loop

would like his own impresa

is a diminished seventh, minor fifth

might be; or might not be

knows New Jersey is the whole world

Saturn is a friend of mine

is [insert grade]*

is giving what he can, and taking what he needs

Hello office, my old friend

is waiting for history

I am with you always, even until the end

is waking up and settling down

has got the battle fever on today

is jiggered, by jigger

Oh go on then

Waiting for the feather duster to arrive

To the sea

Already it is slipping away from me

is Baron Tricchetracche

So that Mephistopheles popped round for a chat last night

is grey like a candy apple

To Italia!

is the New Normal

is advocating piracy as the way forward

Copy Agonistes

is more cake than man

is in the present tense

is losing at the zen arcade

Finest worksong

has no idea whether you’ll see this in your news feed any more

is juggling voices

is having a thrash about

is installing Self Portrait Postcards today

is all nerves ahoy!

Self Portrait Postcards is ready to go

is better than the White Cube

is spending hot days reading about cold wars

would rather be bunking off today

... and yes, Self Portrait Postcards continues at the Her House Gallery in Hoxton, today, tomorrow and Thursday. Come and take a piece of me.

Commercial: On Facebook time

2011-10-03T16:23:00.001+01:00

By Geoff (with a bit of me). Worth a read.

Poetry: It's National Poetry Day on Thursday...

2011-10-03T10:02:00.002+01:00

...and a heap-load of stuff going on, to use the technical term, will be going on at the Southbank Centre, as well as right round the country.

The theme of the day this year is 'Games', and in Katy Evans-Bush's words, "the event will be like a sort of giant poetry fête: there will be poetry quizzes, poetry bingo, poetry cupcakes, a drop-in poetry surgery, and even poetry cupcakes! And Julia Bird will be running a Poembola!"

Seriously, go here and here, for just a mere bagatelle of all that you can look forward too. Hashtag will be #NPDLive

Poetry: Wrapper Rhymes

2011-09-29T13:55:00.001+01:00

I wrote a poem on a wrapper. And now it's up on Wrapper Rhymes. Life's simple, sometimes.

Commercial: Hegarty highlights

2011-09-28T10:00:00.000+01:00

The bits I really liked from the pages with corners folded down in 'Turning Intelligence Into Magic':

The power of reduction – a fundamental skill in advertising. (p 21)

…ideas and the belief in being able to produce great ideas are everything, otherwise advertising is just information. The trick is to make the information interesting and relevant – in the world of marketing communication understanding those two words, interesting and relevant, has filled a library. But it shouldn’t have. Ultimately it’s just common sense and a desire to excite people. (p 26)

If you work hard doing the same thing every day, I don’t think you’ll get lucky, you’ll just get boring. If you work hard doing interesting things then I think your luck will change. My mantra of ‘do interesting things and interesting things will happen to you’ is born out of that belief. (p 153)

…brands more often than not go wrong because they lose touch with their roots and the values and qualities that made them successful. This doesn’t mean you talk about the past, but it does mean that connecting a brand’s audience with the positive beliefs that established the brand’s original success is important. (p 155)

All the logic in the world doesn’t necessarily change a thing. Changing the way people feel and behave is the ultimate brand requirement and the ultimate responsibility of a creative idea. (p 202)

The Secret Diary of Google, aged 13

2011-09-27T12:08:00.000+01:00

Commercial: Bullmore bon mots

2011-09-27T10:00:00.001+01:00

Some notes from last Tuesday's event at the ICA:

- What is transmitted is never what is received. Therefore there is a need to set objectives not in terms of research-proofed propositions or messages, but desired responses. What is it in real life that elicits the desired response from people?

- You need to be very, very subjective in this business: it's the most valuable tool for understanding human behaviour.

- Why aren't there more emotional campaigns these days? It is fiendishly difficult, by definition, to make emotional appeals to the rationally minded... the top chaps [at the clients] will always want to see the numbers.

- Agencies are poor at understanding what it's like to be a client. Agencies can only be true partners with a client if they share the risk of failure for a campaign.

- Famous advertising is not worth pursuing for its own sake...

- ... but there is something puzzling and inconceivable about brand fame. To be considered 'fame', it has to be indiscriminate. But this undermines 'targeting'. Therefore most brand advertising in media is not aimed at the supposed targets; or rather, is seen by people who aren't targets. What a successful brand needs is 'salience'; it has to be there, with public communication, being exposed to 70% of people who won't buy your product. There is a fascinating value in being publicly known.

- Marketing directors used to be knowledgeable and passionate about their sectors; that's changed. An ability to shift stuff is of less importance than a commitment to what it is they're actually marketing. Marketing directors of service companies now have no influence over what is designed, produced, or the levers that actually impact upon the service.

- Integration is increasingly recognised as needed by clients; but this has happened as agencies have dis-integrated, and disintermediation has taken place, when it was most needed for those agencies.

- The most valuable brains and skillsets in the future will be those that know which clues elicit a response that fits in with a general strategy, those that can simplify and get their heads around the whole thing, and understand all the bits and make sure that the stimuli don't contradict each other, too much.

- The best book to read is still James Webb Young's 'How To Be An Advertising Man'. He was an uncomplicated observer truth.

- Agencies are increasingly hiring clones of clients.

- There's been a (not unhealthy) increase in people's suspicion of authority; it's not surprising that advertising would be affected. But there is a difference between 'advertising' and 'advertisements'. People complain about specific ads, but not advertising as a medium. It's not a distrust of advertising, but a healthy scepticism. Scepticism is a lubricant in any trading system - ads put forward a case, so we should be sceptical.

Commercial: On Bullmore, Hegarty and the Saatchis

2011-09-26T10:00:00.001+01:00

Quite by chance, it has been a week of CPD. Last Tuesday I attended the latest 44 Club talk, Jeremy Bullmore in conversation. This weekend, with a giddying rapidity, I have gone through John Hegarty's 'Turning Intelligence Into Magic', and M&C Saatchi's 'Brutal Simplicity of Thought'.

The latter need not detain us long; if you read the feature in last Thursday's 'Campaign', you'll have read the introduction, and the majority of the examples in the sparse pages that follow appear to confuse 'simple' and 'simplification'. Still, no doubt they are laughing at me at shelling out £10 for such a rip off. (I'll blog some fuller notes on Bullmore and Hegarty later this week.)

I've been looking to see if there's any meta-notes or narratives that I can give you, having been so immersed in three disparate but inter-linked world-views over the last few days.

All, as you would expect, give primacy to creative, though only Bullmore was sufficiently cautious as to the actual power and impact that it might have.

The one thing all three do end up centring on is the idea that a brand must be 'famous' too, not just that the creative works in its own terms, towards or on its intended audience. That's to say, you should know about or have heard of or a brand, even if you never intend to buy it, or be in its audience. Because its only with that sort of fame, or 'saliency', as Bullmore puts it, that you can actually begin to have the conversations that you really want to have with the people that you think you can make money from.

So, you can hear this, and try to disagree with Bullmore when he asks to you to name something other than Google that has been made world famous by the internet alone. And hear as well an interesting new argument for older agencies to make: you need to be famous; and we can help you get there, as we know how to use old and new media together, to make you famous, by creating stuff that makes your brand entertaining. More than ever, we have to be studio impressarios. The rationality (and the ROI) can wait.

Interesting. But will the clients buy it?

So, farewell, then, R.E.M.

2011-09-25T14:51:00.002+01:00

Well, seeing as I've loved them since I was yea high, I couldn't let the end pass without a little something.

Get me maudlin enough and I will tell you how all I wanted to be pretty much between the ages of 13 and 16 was to play rhythm guitar behind Peter, and I still have a hankering that one day I'll actually be able to both afford and justify buying a Rickenbacker 335, cherry red obviously.

Ask me to interrogate myself a bit more deeply and I will readily concede that most if not everything I learnt about art and politics, or more correct to say the sources that I should go and pursue, came in one form or another via an interview or a lyric.

Heavens, I even managed to get a music GCSE off the back of stealing an arpegiated riff from Life's Rich Pageant, and turning that into my one and only successful composition ever.

And that's even before I begin to try and collate the number of afternoons, late nights, speed ups, break ups, slow downs, journeys and general tomfoolery they've soundtracked in one way or other over the past 20 years, for me.

Even now, I can't escape. As I type, on the shelf above my head, is a 3" Japanese CD version of 'At My Most Beautiful', which I now realise has come with me everywhere I've lived pretty much since 1998.

So, anyway, my fave tracks, as they stand at the moment, but ask me tomorrow and no doubt this list would be wildly different. And there's very few bands whose canons can stand up successfully to that sort of sincere, hand-wringing fickleness.

Romance: micro-symphony, with despairing disguised as shoulder-shrugging refrain:

E-Bow The Letter: The best lyric I think Stipe has ever written, with a couplet that's both endlessly modern and timeless.

Finest Worksong: You know, just in case you ever forgot that they were a rock band as much as anything else. (BTW, I can't find the should-have-been horns mix to post, which is on 'Eponymous' and just better.)

Moral Kiosk: Probably the most elliptical thing on one of the most elliptical records ever, who knows what it means? What it does for me is take me back to a time when a wise manipulator of men, Mr Dawson, decided to make English classes more fun by putting Matt and me on a table with three of the most beautiful girls in year 9. Naturally we displayed our maturity by retreating into trying to gabble the lyrics to this to them. As tactic to repel teenage girls, it has not been bettered.

All The Best: Like a good pair of 501s, sometimes the old new stuff is as good as the old old stuff, if you see what I mean.

Self Portrait Postcards

2011-09-20T10:10:00.004+01:00

For the last few years, I’ve been doing something a little quixotic.

Nearly every time that I update my status in Facebook, I’ve also been recording those thoughts in a notebook.

Loyal readers of this blog might also be aware that from time to time, they appear, collated as Listoramas, like so.

I can’t remember quite why I started doing this.

Maybe it was because I thought they were worth preserving in some way. Maybe I’m a touch more obsessive than I like to let on to myself.

Now, working with designer Matt Busher, we've turned those status updates into postcards.

Because we think these updates provide a little snapshot of me, we’ve been calling them ‘portraits’.

And a thousand of them will be on display at the Her House Gallery, 26 Drysdale Street, in Hoxton, between Friday 30 September and Thursday 6 October. (The show's closed on Sunday 2 October.)

You can find out more at selfportraitpostcards.com

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Poetry: Infinite Editions

2011-09-19T10:00:00.000+01:00

Most excitingly, I had a poem published over at Infinite Editions yesterday. Wander that way to have a looksie.

Poetry: Free Verse

2011-09-14T10:01:00.002+01:00

It's in a few weeks, but worth getting into your diaries now. Sounds like it'll be a grand day out. More here and here.

Sentences you never thought you'd see in a book review 1

2011-09-13T09:46:00.002+01:00

First of an occasional series, no doubt. From Jeremy Paxman's lukewarm review of Simon Jenkins' A Short History Of England:

And what are we to say of the National Trust? Of course, it's a force for good. But it is also like an unapproachable distant relative who somehow, without ever obviously intending any such thing, makes you feel gauche and inadequate. Can anyone see its oakleaf emblem without checking to see their flies are done up?

Can anyone? I don't know? Has the question ever been asked before?

Poetry: on 9/11

2011-09-12T10:51:00.001+01:00

I had a poem, dealing elliptically with the events of 9/11, over at Eyewear yesterday.

Commercial: Time for a social media diet

2011-09-08T11:31:00.002+01:00

Cross posted from Geoff's blog:

Seeing as we’re still just about in the season of trying to lose a bit of flab (it’s not too late be beach fit, dontchaknow), I’ve been musing on whether it’s time to slim down my social media inputs.

Clearly, I’m not alone in worrying about whether I’m gorging too much on tweets and status updates and the like. Grace Dent is towering atop the bestseller lists, right now with her tell-all confessional about how the big tweeting bird mucked up her life (I paraphrase slightly). This lady in New York, in an enviable display of single-mindedness has decided to cut everything apart from Twitter out of her life. Clearly, as she used it to find a flat, job and hubby, she wasn’t going to give it up.

And while I might not go as far as declaring that social media has ruined our lives it’s clear that some fatigue is setting in for some people – especially because, as the hypothesis has it, as more brands arrive in the space, more people depart.
Which leads to a serious question: does your brand need to be on every social media platform? I mean, the advice to try and bit of oomph back into your content, keep it fresh and exciting, tell people what’s new, sure, all makes sense. But budgets aren’t infinite. And dare one say it, neither is conversation.

And when you multiply that need by three, five, 20 different platforms, that way madness lies. Much as we on the fifth floor might have a play about with Storify or Color, can we realistically argue that a brand needs to be everywhere on the off-chance a customer, potential or actual, might be?

I’m not advocating social media seppuku just yet. But it might be handy to keep your sword sharp.

Poetry: Poetry from Poland

2011-09-03T10:00:00.000+01:00

Just a quick note to say I was a runner-up in this competition, which means, most excitingly, a haiku to be displayed on the Warsaw underground. Might need to headover to see it in situ.

Fiction: To The Social

2011-09-01T10:00:00.000+01:00

I grab your hand, your left hand, without looking, without looking at you.

I don’t know you. But I know where your hand will be.

Then I pick up the pace.

From a slow walk to a giddying canter, a speeded-up straight-line waltz. Your sandals go slap slap slap as we go faster. Good job your dress is short or you couldn’t keep up with me. I know your other hand is crook-locked on to the top of your head, to try and keep your piled-up hair in place; stop a strap, your bag, from falling off your shoulder.

And all the time, though this acceleration, this kinetic adventure, I know you are smiling. But I know it will end the moment we reach the front of the club, break apart, and I will lose you to the embrace of dancing and drinking and everyone else.

I console myself against the future by knowing I’ll run back to this moment again and again and again.

Now I’m as fast as I ever have been. I’m on the floor. Moving. Forgetting. Failing.

And a hand grabs mine, perfectly fitting the space I didn’t know I’d left for it.

Poetry: More on Verbatim Poetry

2011-08-31T18:45:00.001+01:00

Bit late to tell you about this, but I've had a small wee something posted over on Verbatim. Doff your hats to Frank...

Commercial: Brand racism

2011-08-23T10:00:00.000+01:00

As spotted in Jeremy Mercer's Books, Baguettes and Bedbugs, his account of his sojourn at Shakespeare & Co in Paris:

With rent payments looming, I, too needed money and fell into the luxury-goods business. The job involved Louis Vuitton handbags... [it] seemed reluctant to sell its bags to Asian people in Paris. My theory was that the company didn't want to dilute their image as a European luxury brand, so they made it difficult for certain customers to acquire their products. On any given afternoon, at any given Louis Vuitton boutique, there was an enormous lineup of people waiting to be allowed into the store, and the vast majority of these people were of Japanese or Chinese origin... Meanwhile, the richest Europeans were given private appointments to buy their apparel, and if you were white and chic enough in dress, you could bypass the line and purchase whatever you wanted.

The book was published in 2005, and I am making an assumption he is describing events that happened about five years earlier. Clearly no major global luxury brand behaves like this now, considering the importance of the East Asian market now. But still, I had not realised that the attempts to create exclusivity inherent within some brands could shade into something more sinister.

Ur Guardian and Observer sentences 3

2011-08-22T08:56:00.002+01:00

Back after a somewhat unexpected break. As spotted in The Observer on Sunday:

Does cocaine abuse have an ethical impact?

God bless the Observer reader eh? Even in the midst of their spiral of addictive despair, they can be counted on to look at the bigger picture. As Lucy adds at the end of her chiding:

Your drugs counselling is not just about cleaning up your own act but also preventing ecocide.

Well, whatever helps you get off the rocks, I suppose.

Commercial: Support your local indie label

2011-08-17T10:00:00.000+01:00

One of the more overlooked victims of the riots last week was the Sony warehouse storing the stock of, amongst others, CDs and LPs of loads of indie labels, those distributed by PIAS.

Sure, it's not a big thing in the scheme of all the other, intractable issues that need to be addressed over the next few months. But you wouldn't want your favourite band or label to suffer more due to the mindlessness that was on display. And, hearteningly, there is some support for the affected labels being organised.

So look for the logo, as displayed on the Rough Trade shop, and do your duty &c.

Commercial: Paying for creativity

2011-08-16T10:00:00.000+01:00

Food for thought for agency and creative types in Oliver Burkeman's column in the Guardian last weekend.

It's a familiar dilemma: how do you charge for something that doesn't actually appear to take that long, or *that much* skill (I'm not proposing to open the 'how difficult is advertising / writing / whatever' debate, just pointing out that, for many people, it doesn't appear to be that difficult to do, so they don't see the point in paying more (or indeed paying) for it.

No answer offered here, but arguments for not just demonstrating the applied value but the *intrinsic* value of what we do, do need to be found.

Commercial: The contender takes a tumble

2011-08-15T10:00:00.001+01:00

Spotted in Liverpool on the weekend. While applauding the ambition and approach... um, a contender for what? A heart attack, from sitting on your couch for longer, watching telly?

Poetry: Martin Jackson

2011-08-14T14:51:00.002+01:00

Can I send you over to Days of Roses, where you can discover the poetry of Martin Jackson? If you're in advertising, methinks you'll raise a wee bit of a smile at some of them.

Commercial: Probably the best book cover in the world

2011-08-11T10:00:00.000+01:00

Whaddyamean you don't have it?

Riot Lucida

2011-08-10T14:22:00.006+01:00

In 1957 French philosopher Roland Barthes published a book called Mythologies. A collection of essays taken from Les Lettres nouvelles, it examined, quoting Wikipedia, the 'tendency of contemporary social value systems to create modern myths.'

The most famous essay in it was his analysis of the cover of Paris Match, of a young black French soldier saluting which, he argued, through a combination of signs and ideas being signified, helped to perpetuate a myth of France and her imperial power.

I am rather hoping that in the next few weeks, one of Barthes' intellectual descendants will do something similar for the picture above, taken on Sunday night, during the disturbances in Brixton.

It's a slight understatement to say I've been haunted by it since first seeing it. But I would like someone to explain to me why I find it so emblematic of what has happened over the last few days.

It was one of the more tweeted images of the riots, generally sent on with a tweet saying (I paraphrase): 'how stupid, she got caught looting THE SHOP SHE WORKS FOR'.

It was that formulation that first got me thinking.

So I'd hope that a someone could explain why someone might do that; might actively, definitely, jepoardise her employment by doing that, and whether there is anything in the theory that working cheek by jowl day after day selling things you can never afford yourself on the wages you earn might corrupt or warp your sense of right and wrong, so when the opportunity came you wouldn't stop to hesitate and instead, in an utterly misguided way, believe that 'you'd earned it'?

Then I'd hope the gaze would start to zoom out, and look at the rest of the scene. How power and force is still, mostly being wielded by, and forgive me for being blunt, a mostly white police force. You never see a black or Asian riot officer do you? And I'm not trying to be glib here, but surely part of reclaiming the community, or re-imposing the force of law, is getting the message across that it's not an Us vs Them situation, but instead Us vs Us: we look like you, are like you, but are choosing not to do what you are doing. And not only should that choice be respected, but more than that it is the right choice. To choose to make the institutions that we interact with better, by participating.

Then there are the consumerist messages that are inherent here. The consensus that the last few days has been no more than hyper-consumption gone wild seems valid enough. I'd hope our semotician could see evidence for that here. The shopping hours that mean that it's a rare day when you can't have your consumerist impulse satisfied, lustily and un-grammatically signified by the cheery 'We're Open' at the top of the picture. The most important thing for the store is to be Open, always Open, lest any chance to shop be missed. And what if you cannot shop, cannot participate in our main recreation, leisure sport? What happens to you, citizen, when you cannot be a consumer?

And of course our analyst would point to the anomie inherent here, in this situation. Five individuals, caught forever, together in a tableaux that sharply and simply, moralises one camp, de-moralises the other, and drains context out. And where there is no context, there's no understanding. All in uniform. Yet all told that they are unique. Bridging that psychic gap on a daily basis can be, is tough - whose sense of self is strong enough that they are never swayed by another's opinion? Mutliply that uncertainty by the force of a mob's baying, then wonder why the definition of a riot says 12 people need to be present. Only 12?

Lastly, I'd like our analyst to imagine there are no people there, and tell us how different this looks from any similar image you could find from a similar street in a similar town on a Friday or Saturday night. We believe - I certainly believe - that place and time make this picture special. But I am also willing to believe that, sans people, it would not be, and that we can see the emptiness and broken glass and the disorder on a much more frequent basis than we do, and we choose not to. Because it is easier not to.

And it is easier to make a myth out of the extraordinary, like this image, rather than the mundane, which I can also see here, despite (in spite of?) its extraordinariness.

(Image credit: Getty images)

Commercial: SJ Perelman on advertising

2011-08-08T09:29:00.002+01:00

Following the Candyman's recommendation on Desert Island Discs, I've been going through some SJ Perelman, specifically Crazy Like A Fox, which I found in an orange Penguin years ago. And looky what my eye chanced upon this morning:

...the desperation is that of the whole advertising confraternity. So all the old tactics have finally broken down - wheedling, abuse, snobbery and terror. I look forward to the last great era in advertising, a period packed with glooom, defeatism and frustration...

Ahem.

Poetry: More Days of Roses

2011-08-05T10:20:00.001+01:00

Once again Declan over at Days of Roses has done me the signal honour of publishing a few more of my poems. I doff my titfer to him again.

Listorama: Facebook status updates vol 20

2011-07-26T10:09:00.002+01:00

BetaRish (is):

Sing all you citizens!

Last day of term

Hello St Petersberg

is waiting for a kiss on a balcony

At Pulkuvo. Goodbye St Petersberg

Hello jetlag

Here we go again…

Ever lover on a mission, shift your known position into the light

is a dream I keep having

Does tunesasthesia exist?

feels like he’s swallowing razor wire

is a neologism…

has started. He might finish

is logarithmic

wants you to groove me

will see you in the next one

is a kitemark of quality

is waiting for Malachite and Asturias

is copper-bottomed and nickel-plated

is waiting for his insatiable one

is trying to live in tetrameter

is looking for preference class

needs a permanent, portable dropbox

is a sous-sherpa

The cosmic good cheer is already leaking away down the stormhole of the galaxy

will live those days tonight

is waiting for the hammer to fall

is trying to fool himself that fullness is a state of mind

is a curatorial conspiracy

is waiting for Jack of Jumps

is looking for something witty or profound to go here

will be dancing later

is slicing up the magic hour

is Jack of Jumps

is moving with the lights on

is going down the word mine again

is on a ship called Dignity

is wondering how he’ll reach 39 lines

lacks the fundamentals

has one in the Cannes. Mostly thanks to Laila Milborrow, Paul Pearson and Natalie Powell

is still on the line

is failing to resist temptation

is categorising

is suffering from Asturias deciding playtime started at 4.30am

is barmecidal

thinks there should be something to it

is in a state of independence

is all you need

will be learning about clean energy later

is slightly off the beat

and the tale of the plaster-removing kittens…

is in the fun chair

is skying

can’t decide between being a regretful tortoise or a grateful hare

Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself

is combobulated

is sporting craquelure

is in a cwtch

is gathering

would like to start a band called ‘Healy’s Eyebrows’

Poetry: Days of Roses

2011-07-25T09:33:00.001+01:00

More self-glorifying. Most pleasingly indeed, I've had something published over at the fine blog that is Days of Roses. Thrilling times. Go see etc.

Poetry: Gratuitous self-promotion alert

2011-07-22T10:02:00.002+01:00

In that I was one of the runners up in the 2011 Cardiff International Poetry Competition. The award ceremony featured a lovely, if windswept, open top bus tour around Cardiff, followed by dinner at Harry Ramsdens. And, yes, the cheque has already been spent.

The other seven poems are marvels, and well worth your time. And for those who might be interested, mine was inspired by Richard Brautigan, and especially this New York Times blog post about him.

The best description of pop music ever

2011-07-18T10:28:00.002+01:00

A weekend spent reading a lot of popmusikkritique, including Kevin Cummins' Manchester: Looking for the Light through the Pouring Rain, which was elegiac, and Nik Cohn's Awopbopaloobop Alopbamboom, which is also elegiac, but with more energy, and possibly the best definition of pop music ever:

To this end, he [Frank Zappa] assembled his Mother freaks and loosed them. On their first album, cutting a track called The Return Of The Son Of Monster Magnet, he went into the studio with a small army of auxiliaries and the whole lot of them banged, strummed, pounded and thrashed any musical instrument they could lay their hands on, the total effect being a bit like a small army banging, strumming, pounding and thrashing any musical instrument they could lay their hands on. It worked, what's more. It made you wish you'd been in there yourself, banging and thrashing with the rest of them, and so it carried a sense of real release, exorcism.

Will writers be allowed to interview themselves any more?

2011-07-15T14:45:00.003+01:00

I ask only half in jest. The thought was prompted by the Paris Review blog t'other day, examining, amongst others, Nabokov's habit of 'self-interviewing' - in this context, having received and answered the questions in advance. As the post says:

Even when he appeared with Lionel Trilling on a “live” taped interview on a 1958 program called “Close Up” to discuss the controversy surrounding Lolita for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, Nabokov reads his responses—on television—from his index cards.

The Paris Review interview with Nabokov from 1967 starts by saying:

The interviewer had sent ahead a number of questions. When he arrived at the Montreux Palace, he found an envelope waiting for him—the questions had been shaken up and transformed into an interview. A few questions and answers were added later, before the interview's appearance in the 1967 Summer/Fall issue of The Paris Review. In accordance with Nabokov's wishes, all answers are given as he wrote them down.

My point is: would this sort of approach to interviews be allowed now, in our current media climate of radical transparency? We've seen the imbroglio that Johann Hari has found himself in for illuminating the answers of his interviewees by quoting themselves from elsewhere - a minor sin, it appears to me. But could a writer, or indeed any other sort of interview, now ask that they could take a 'Nabokovian' approach to interviews, a performative one essentially, without being excoriated for having something to hide?

Commercial: Google+ equals what?

2011-07-14T16:05:00.002+01:00

I'm cross-posting this from Geoff's blog, as I had a hand in drafting it...

---

So I’ve only just blagged my way on to Google+, and no I won’t go on about how hurt I am that it’s taken this long for me to get an invite.

Of course its early doors, and you can’t come to a proper judgement until there some sort of critical mass of people on there. But with over 10 million signed up now, that shouldn’t be too long now.

First impressions? It looks good, a lot better than Google products tend to, some lovely functionality going on, and clearly it’s going to be a big player.

But (and you just knew there was a ‘but’ coming) there’s one big flaw that I can see with it so far. It’s asking you to think deeply – and far more deeply than we’ve been trained to do – about stuff that you really don’t want to think too deeply about.

Consider the quick update you want to write or the whizzy new video you want to share. Instead of just whacking it up, Google+ is asking you now to think explicitly about who it’s right for. Do they happen to be in the right circle? Do I have to create a new one just for them?

The point is those circles could soon have to resemble Venn diagrams, balkanizing your mates, and bringing an artificial complexity to something that should be simple.

But, I hear you cry, isn’t that like the real world? It is, to a point. But we behave like that instinctively offline, and I doubt the extent we want to learn to behave like that online. (And as a side note, has anyone actually +1’d a search result yet? It’s like the algorithm has got all shy and bashful, and instead of confidently presenting results now wants a reassuring pat on the head.)

I don’t think, unlike Rish, that Google don’t get social. On the evidence of Wired’s behind the scenes piece, they’ve now got enough people in place who do. But they clearly are trying to do something outside their comfort zone: make something sticky, where people want to spend time hanging out. That’s a big shift for them.

And my instinct is that this, unlike Gmail, Adwords or Android, isn’t a game changer. It’s a catch up. Google+ equals a ‘me too’ offering. And that sort of sum rarely adds up in the long run.

Wanted: Copy ninja

2011-07-13T10:00:00.001+01:00

I’m looking for a copy ninja.

Or rather, archibald ingall stretton, the integrated ad agency where I work, is looking for a copywriter to join its current happy band of scribes.

The lucky chap or chappess will get to work on a range of different briefs including emails, websites, SMS messages and DM, for clients such as O2, EDF Energy and Skoda. Smile winsomely enough, and there might be some more conceptual work available too.

You’ll probably be looking for your second job. You may even be a middleweight ninja, if I can muddle metaphors even more.

You’ll be comfortable working in media offline and on, handle long copy expertly, short copy deftly and be ruthless in your proofing. Experience applying tones of voice will be useful too. Of course you’ll be a scribing for all things social too.

If that wasn’t enough, we’re based in the heart of London’s trendy media adland, have a roof terrace and are all lovely.

Naturally I don’t want to wade through a gazillion CVs. So, instead, send the tweet or text that you think will most convince me of your copy skills through the usual channels.

Commercial: Crapbot

2011-06-18T16:45:00.002+01:00

Not doing the London to Brighton cycle ride tomorrow? You can still get stuck in. Writes John Vinton:

Nine of us are cycling to Brighton on Sunday to raise money for The British Heart Foundation.

To make it more interesting, you can tweet messages to us on the way (just include #aiscycling in your tweet). We’ll jump off our bikes and chalk them on the road. And take pictures. It’s called Crapbot. A bit like Nike Chalkbot. But rubbish.

Go to Crapbot to find out more.

Writing messages on the road is a Tour de France tradition. The messages are normally inspiring. But yours can be humiliating if you prefer. More importantly, you can also donate a few quid if you like.

Commercial: Novelty ties wanted

2011-06-15T14:03:00.003+01:00

No, seriously, I do. Or rather, Adele, one of my colleagues at AIS, who writes:

Anyone got a novelty tie they’d be willing to donate to me?

It’s for my Dad’s wedding – he wanted to wear a novelty tie for it. His fiancé couldn’t persuade him out of it, so she entrusted me to step in and have a long chat with him about the perils of wearing a novelty tie and talk him out of it. I succeeded. She is happy.

In the nicest possible way, I now plan to ruin this happiness by getting all the wedding guests to don novelty ties. Except I don’t have any novelty ties. Nor do I have access to a wedding list so that I can ask said wedding guests to bring their own novelty ties. Which means I need to find about 100 novelty ties myself so I can secretly give them to people at the wedding.

Gentlemen, I know you can help. We all have something lying around that was a ill-advised purchase, or never-worn gift. And ladies, I know there's a tie that you hate him wearing, and would secretly like to get rid of. Now's your chance. Consider this a bad tie amnesty.

Send your ties to me or Adele care of AIS by Wednesday 5 July, or if you're in London town, swing by and drop it off. I would say there's some reward at the end of it, but other than making your wardrobe a better place, I'm not sure there is. But isn't that sufficient?

Commercial: Sonnet workshop with Katy Evans-Bush

2011-06-10T14:15:00.000+01:00

Quick! Quick! The esteemed Katy Evans-Bush, she of Baroque in Hackney fame, is hosting a workshop on sonnets at the Poetry School on Saturday 25 June. She writes:

How stretchy is a sonnet? For 700 years poets have been reshaping this form to fit their needs, and in its many shapes it is still recognisably a sonnet. This workshop will look at traditional, contemporary and experimental sonnets to see what makes a sonnet a sonnet, and what its possibilities are for poets now. Can we make it new? Do we need to?

There will be reading, discussion and some writing - so you should go home with something to develop. You can benefit from this course whatever stage your poetry is at, if you are comfortable with the basics, have written sonnets and want to learn more about how to make the sonnet your own.

Now, I love a sonnet, so I'll be there. I trust you will be too. Drop Katy a line for more info.

Poetry: 30 days in June

2011-06-01T15:00:00.000+01:00

Um, looks like I've committed myself to doing this again. Uh-oh.

Follow my progress here.

Commercial: The Hackney Wick

2011-05-26T16:27:00.003+01:00

Word up all you North-east London scribblers. You might be interested in the following:

"The Hackney Wick", a new local arts paper, is looking for writers. The first issue looks explicitly at the subject of redevelopment, exploring in depth changes to the area adjacent to the Olympic site, as well as profiling the unique creative character of the area.

We're looking for people to explore:

New developments-

1. The buildings proposed by Thames Water Gateway - known as the Hackney Wick Hub and the effect that this will have on local businesses and artists. We'd like to have interviews with local people about their opinions on this as well as the company itself. We have permission from the company to publish the maps of their proposal.

2. Forman's (salmon factory, restaurant, and gallery) plan for a pop up restaurant and nightclub (to be called Swan Wharf) to coincide with the canal-side VIP entrance to the Olympic stadium.

3. The Folly for Flyover installation - part of the Create festival - buildings are beginning to be constructed from next week.

Folly for a Flyover, the project for which they have won the award, will engage directly with Hackney’s industrial and cultural history. The materials used to construct the site will be sourced from across Hackney Wick, including refuse from the Olympic Park. They will be put together through a process known as ‘dry assembly’ which means they can be reused for other purposes later on.

Profiles

4. We are also publishing a guide to the Hackney Wicked festival and would like to have some artist profiles featured. Exploring hidden spaces...

We are looking for alternative, in-depth, creative features.

The paper will be published by See Studios (seestudios.com).

If you're interested drop Daren Ellis (daren at seestudios dot com) a line.

The past is the present is the future

2011-05-26T16:12:00.002+01:00

Or at least that's what I first thought when I heard the new single by The Horrors. But then I thought, why not just relax and enjoy it? I mean, Battles are taking care of the futurenow stuff for us.

Bernard Butler: Why music matters

2011-05-24T12:00:00.000+01:00

Following on from last week's Suede reverie and revelry, some lovely musings on music from Bernard Butler, in a film made by @bigbigtoe, archibald ingall stretton's digital wonderboy in chief.

Welcome Malachite and Asturias

2011-05-24T10:31:00.002+01:00

Who arrived last night. Malachite, the tabby, is Mr Curious at the moment, even though he's a bit scared when it comes to jumping down off things; his sister Asturias is far more fearless, but is as cool as you like.

Our thanks to Celia Hammond too, who we adopted these two from. They're always looking for people to foster and adopt their rescue animals. If you can help out, do drop them a line.

Commercial: What if Saatchi & Saatchi had bought Midland Bank?

2011-05-23T10:10:00.000+01:00

Prompted by this story in the London Evening Standard last week, which in turn reminded us that Maurice Saatchi can generally be found behind some intriguing ideas – and who wouldn’t want to own a piece of Fred the Shred’s former kingdom? – I’d like to suggest an idle diversion, or perhaps an abstract for a short piece of counterfactual history.

It’s generally accepted that Saatchi & Saatchi’s bid for Midland Bank in 1987 was the beginning of the end, deadly imperial over-reach, hubris on Charlotte Street.

Sure, sure – apart from the fact that most of the people saying that were the people who had most to lose from a change to the status quo in The City. You know, the same geniuses who led us into the worst financial crisis since the Depression.

Here’s the thesis: if Saatchi & Saatchi had succeeded in buying Midland, we wouldn’t have had the financial crisis.

Unlikely? Hear me out.

A Midland bank, at the time the 4th largest bank in Britain, owned by an ad agency would have been forced to become far more customer-centric. So far, so common sense. But I’d go farther and suggest that, as part of that, there would have been a far slower rush into business areas which were more innovative – which in the financial world appears to be synonymous for ‘opaque’ and ‘impossible for outsiders to understand’.

Because there would have been a far greater concern for reputational risk. Because the questions, ‘What are we doing? How are we doing it? Why are we doing? And can we explain it to the outside world?’ would have been asked a lot sooner.

Basically, it wouldn’t have been the quants running the institution. It would have been the marketers. And by having people in charge who would act like faux-naifs, and worry about how it would look if the bank was caught with its pants down, I’d argue that a lot of excess would have been curbed, or at least slowed.

I’d go further and argue that a focus on customers would have meant that Midland became more successful, and in turn its success would have attracted other non-traditional players into the financial services market. With more and more new entrants with a non-banking background coming in, this virtuous focus on serving people with utility financial services would have spread, to the point at which any dangerously risky behaviour would have been very easily isolated and ring-fenced.

Oh sure, this is balloon-floating of the highest order, but as exercises in virtual history go, hypothesising alternative modes for the development of both banks, and ad agencies, would seem to be a useful thing to do from time to time.

Teenage dreams so hard to beat

2011-05-20T10:00:00.000+01:00

I was ready to mock - how could you not be? - the thirty- and forty-somethings singing 'So Young...' back to a man who has no right - no right I tell you! - to be as thin as he is at the age he is.

But, as it turns out, nostalgia is clearly the one drug we, collectively, cannot kick, and I was swept away along with everyone else, and have no voice because of it; and singing the songs of your teenage years with a couple of thousand other people holding back the future is a very good way to forget about the fact that, according to Simon Reynolds we're stuck in an infinite loop of yesterday, the avant garde to tomorrow as well-traversed as a hard shoulder.

If I were David Hepworth, I'd make some deeper, sociological point now. Alas, I can't do that, so instead I'll promise to buy The Wire later.

Commercial: Did somebody say redesign?

2011-05-18T10:00:00.000+01:00

...which does rather make you wonder, 'why bother with that re-brand?'

It also reminds me of Abi's fundamental (and still-never-bettered) critique, highlighting the limits of branding:

You walk into a bar or pub:

YOU: Can I have a Coke please?
BARKEEP: Is Pepsi OK?
YOU: Yeah, fine.

Of course, if anyone actually knows of anyone who has walked out of a drinks-serving establishment, because they didn't have their brown-gloop beverage of choice, do let me know...

(HT for the image: Rory Maxwell, via Where is the cool)

Commercial: Faber Academy at Kettle's Yard

2011-05-17T10:00:00.004+01:00

My amigos from the Faber Academy, as well as Daljit Nagra and Jo Shapcott, will be reading in aid of the Kettle's Yard Gallery this coming Friday, May 20, at the Brompton Garage, which is opposite the V&A (no 19 on the map). Things kick off at 6.30pm, with readings starting at 7pm.

Alas I won't be there apart from in spirit. But show your support for the team anyway. And there's plenty more events in the Kettle's Yard development appeal if you fancy.

Three notes on creativity

2011-05-16T10:00:00.001+01:00

So on Saturday, I was to be found perambulating around the city, on the School of Life's 'Eureka Tour of London'.

Naturally, I can't do full justice to the breadth and the sweep of the day, but here are a couple of things that stand out.

One is that there is no one model of creativity to follow. Our walk leader Cathy ran through four approaches that you could take, all linked by where we had met, the terrace by Gordon's wine bar:

a) The 'doomed romantic / breakdown' model - as evidenced here by Rudyard Kipling, who lived above Gordon's when it was a sausage shop. He wrote his first novel 'The Light That Failed' there, a bildungsroman if ever there was one, about the woman he had been engaged too; he, alas, couldn't seem to deal with the concept that she had moved on from him, wrote the novel as revenge, and promptly had a breakdown once done.

b) The 'flaneur / moment of inspiration' model - hello Yeats and 'The Lake Isle of Innisfree', which was prompted by seeing a soda fountain on the Strand and being transported back to his youth.

c) The 'additive / keep grinding on' model - as shown by Joseph Bazalgette and his taming of London's big stink and conquering of the sewers. In one sense of course, it's a truism - building on what's gone before is sorta how civil engineering works - but one of the themes of the day was that a building or a bridge or a drain is as much an act of creativity as a sonnet.

d) The 'exaggeration / myth-making' model - as practised, supposedly, by a ticket inspector at Charing Cross underground station in the 1970s, who used to delight in telling people that the Cross outside the station was actually the spire of a long-lost cathedral on the site. Which just confirms that, as ever, lying is a pretty good way of getting to something 'true'.

Later in the day found us back at the School itself, listening to Jean-Paul Flintoff pointing out that it is a lot easier to change the world than you might think. Oh, and that, if you want to be happy:

hedonism > flow within a creative act > doing a good turn

Jean-Paul then showed us how to make our own sketch or notebooks, and in my very ramshackle effort, I tried to summarise the day. The title was inevitably:

A manifesto of sorts

1. Walk

2. You don't have to have a breakdown

3. Being dandy is good

4. Adding to what's gone before is better

5. Magic can be democratic

6. Context is a lot - but not everything

7. You need to leave gaps for the light to get in

8. The idea needs to find its time

9. Resolve to serve no more

10. You can change the world now

Which aren't bad as a set of maxims go.

Commercial: More competition for agencies

2011-05-12T12:09:00.000+01:00

Just wanted to draw your attention to Emily Bell's column from t'other day, and in particular this bit, which says:

The Houston Chronicle for example, has switched its attention in one sector from big retailers to small businesses and instead of advertising alone, offers a flat rate consultancy service which addresses everything from ad sales to social media presence for its clients.

Hullo. That sounds very much to me like newspapers are getting into what might once have been considered agency-turf.

Look to your laurels etc etc; more pertinently, when 'expertise' can be found everywhere, where do you get knowledge and wisdom from?

Commercial: Mitya Ganopolsky

2011-05-02T10:55:00.002+01:00

Mitya (or Dimitry) is a St Petersberg-based art director, photographer and film-maker, who I met last week, while he was leading a walking tour round the city.

Doing that sort of stuff keeps him in clover, while he does his other stuff. Which is very good indeed. I particularly like his reportage, while his fashion shoots show he has a very keen eye, and lean narrative style.

If you're in Russia, I'd strongly recommend you use him. Hell, wherever you are, I strongly recommend you use him. My favourite find of the trip.

Commercial: Against The Clock

2011-04-21T10:52:00.003+01:00

Against The Clock - trailer from Tom Newman on Vimeo.

Can I draw your attention to the trailer for the documentary by my erstwhile colleague Tom Newman? Called Against The Clock, it tells the story of disabled drag car racer Nigel Holland, and on the basis of above I can't wait to see the finished doc.

Tom has a post over at his blog about putting the trailer, and the film, together.

Commercial: Steve Jobs on 'Think Different'

2011-04-20T09:29:00.005+01:00

I won't make the obvious points about this clip - I mean what's left to be said about him, and what he's created?

Instead a challenge, a thought: when was the last time you saw a CEO talk about not just their brand, but also an ad campaign, like this, in such a concise yet inspirational fashion?

I can't think of an occasion. Can you?

(HT: Kim Joar Bekkelund)

Listorama: Facebook status updates vol 19

2011-04-19T09:15:00.001+01:00

BetaRish (is)...

is on the first of the go slow days

is taking it to the bridge

All the ones

is shaking off his country girl act

is busy. Honest

is watching rain that starts car alarms

is the engine driver

is wearing his harbourcoat

Beware the seductions of sociable machines

is licking windows

is wading in the water

keeps marching to a different beat

is colluding

has everything in its wrong place

is buying the sky

Why does getting better take so long

Let’s talk about a new solution

blesses cold, magnanimous, delicate, gauche, fanciful, stupid Englishmen

thought he’d have you by now

Sigh some more

Find me there

The words make everything

is a MacGuffin

is unmastered in the sweet science

is akin to kin

Spheres of wonder

A hunting we will go

can’t escape his biology

on the catastrophe of interjection

is a man of the world, haven’t you heard?

Science! It’s fresh and natural!

is thinking of carnets and snowdrops and other poetic subjects

Geography is destiny

is being

is holding you in his handsome fist

is all together

of dreams and delusions

is declaiming

has a prominent place within café society

is clapping

is playing with his hair well regularly

Destroy their hallucinations with our desires

Trough of insomnia

is working on improving his AQ (awww quotient)

is the spirit of Eden

is the guy who works down the chip shop and swears he’s Elvis

is capable

is too big to fail

is an engine of culture

All I want from you is the kicks you’ve given me

Whoosh!

is silver-rushing

The trouble with me is just water under the bridge

is rocksteady

Please take one

Sun in my eyes

is having his sensibilities massaged by the soft kisses of a million disembodied taxpayers

is not the Great Cham

Hurry! Hurry! All is hurry!

And then we came to the beginning

Life is meals

is walking the walls

is eating time

I have ended up becoming me

Reportage: Forcefield

2011-04-16T16:01:00.004+01:00

Because that's what even the most tangential encounter with anyone who can be deemed a celebrity - however remotely - is like. The room changes, somehow.

A first hand example. This morning I walked into my usual barbers for my usual weekly Turkish shave, and who was waiting there? A certain diminutive, fiery Scottish midfielder of a certain vintage, with a large manager / factotum / gofer / bodyman figure in attendance.

Now bearing in mind that this ex-footballer can be seen on television reasonably regularly, summarising matches, it was hardly a surprise that he was being fussed over (in a way that I should make clear was neither fawning or obsequious, because obviously I go to a place with great customer service; but even as a regular I could tell that the chaps had dialled it up just that one notch further than normal. That I had to wait an hour longer than usual I shall forgive.)

But what was unexpected was the ripples that were left after he'd left: a heightened sense of buzz, a general tremulousness, and a charming note in the visitors' book. Other evidence for this? My barber's normally calm hand slipped and nicked me ever so slightly. We looked at each other. And we both knew why.

Commercial: Of copywriting and poetry

2011-04-14T12:13:00.003+01:00

A few weeks ago, Tom Albrighton of ABC Copywriting asked me for a few thoughts on how copywriting and poetry might be connected.

A few weeks later he emailed to say that, apologies, he couldn't use my thoughts, as his thoughts on the subject weren't going anywhere.

And then yesterday, this whopper of a post landed. It's deep, and wise, about the craft of writing, and I'm not just saying that because, in the end, Tom did manage to find a way to mention me.

If you write, it's well worth a few minutes of your day.

Some rules for having ideas

2011-04-11T11:12:00.002+01:00

Written in haste, so forgive the various errors, but I have penned a short thing over at the TalkNYC forum about how to have ideas.

Commercial: A suggestion for revamping process at agencies

2011-04-07T17:25:00.003+01:00

I know, I know, what could be duller, especially when everyone tells you that broadly, they now operate in the same way, with all the important people in the room at the same time, ideas coming from anywhere etcetera etcetera.

But something struck me in this write up of how Facebook gets to be like Facebook (answer: engineers are king):

resourcing for projects is purely voluntary.
- a PM lobbies group of engineers, tries to get them excited about their ideas. (my emphasis)
- Engineers decide which ones sound interesting to work on.
- Engineer talks to their manager, says “I’d like to work on these 5 things this week.”
- Engineering Manager mostly leaves engineers’ preferences alone, may sometimes ask that certain tasks get done first.
- Engineers handle entire feature themselves — front end javascript, backend database code, and everything in between. If they want help from a Designer (there are a limited staff of dedicated designers available), they need to get a Designer interested enough in their project to take it on. Same for Architect help. But in general, expectation is that engineers will handle everything they need themselves.

Now imagine if that model was applied to an agency. You get a brief, and instead of it being allocated to you on the basis of what your workload is like, who the creative director thinks will crack it best, whether your skillset is what's needed, an account manager effectively has to run an auction and get you excited enough to want to work on it.

So, in theory, best talent ends up wanting to work on the best briefs, because they can see the possibilities for it.

No doubt, something akin to this happens informally at many places already (and I'm not thinking of situations where people pull rank to get their hands on a brief they really want.)

It just struck me that too often, we rely on the work funnel to parcel out briefs (apologies for the metaphor cocktail there) as opposed to actually thinking about how we might actually best match talent to need.

Which is analogous to trying to design markets without price signals, for more on which have a gander at this. And this.

Commercial: The second internet

2011-04-07T12:06:00.003+01:00

Yes, I know you thought that the '2.0' in Web 2.0 might have implied that any beastie lumbering under the name 'the second internet' might already be here.

But, no, apparently not, according to yet another breathless piece of research from another company that you hadn't heard of before, and will never hear of again.

Still I thought the principles they adumbrated, or rather the markings by which one might recognise this latest evolution in the digital zoo, were worth sharing, to whit:

- Platforms open their API to developers
- Continuous and rapid pace of innovation
- The company/brand must listen to the dialogue and participate with customers
- Customer contribution is a large percent of the value/experience
- Every customer has a personalized experience
- Social graph connections drive discovery rather than search

And I thought, substitute and/or stick in the word 'brand' into those, and you've got some pretty good rules for what your brand might need to do / become / evolve into, to become a 'platform', an idea whose time might finally be arriving.

Commercial: You are listening to

2011-04-04T10:13:00.002+01:00

hollywood, a photo by kara brugman on Flickr.

Tremendously late to this I know, but it is rather wonderful.

Take an epic photo, a restless ambient soundscape and a live police call feed. And, right there, you have the pulse of a city.

I'm still slightly amazed no-one's managed to knock one together for London yet.

I also thought it might be a great way to showcase any form of spoken word. Can you imagine radio ads, traditionally all squeaky and shouty and chatty and insane, against this sort of backdrop?

I think the juxtaposition would be stunning.

On buses and memory

2011-03-16T15:00:00.001Z

Slow to report back on this, but on Monday night Will Self, in the sedate surroundings of The Geological Society, nominated Stockwell Bus Garage as London's most important building.

Naturally I didn't take notes, which makes me even more glad that Self rehearsed his arguments for the Evening Standard earlier that day too.

A number of things did stand out from his peroration though (amazing isn't it, you spend some time in Self's company, and you end up taking on his vocabulary), not least his basis for arguing why the garage was important - the last reminder of an age of municipal building that could be considered both moderne and truly democratic - and the fact that the site of the building, a bomb site, was (is?) the bed of the long-lost River Effra, now culverted but once important enough that Raleigh sailed up it to visit Elizabeth I; and that psychogeography is reflected in the undulations of the whale-backed roof.

And if you now have an image of buses borne along long-lost rivers, welcome to my mind.

Commercial: Scary removals

2011-03-16T13:29:00.002Z

"Survive Adapt Overcome" a photo by SgtRock333 on Flickr.

Spotted outside the office earlier today. A somewhat over-wrought brand promise you might think - what exactly are these removers removing? And if they are removing objects from your home for transportation to a new abode, perhaps they could find a less perilous route to take?

Or maybe, they've rapidly adjusted their offer to these seemingly pre-apocalyptic times we're going through, and delivery to your nuclear bunker comes as standard.

Poetry: Hotel verse

2011-03-04T10:00:00.000Z

Or rather, Marriott is looking for your wedding poetry. The best, as chosen by Fiona Sampson and Matt Harvey, will be put in a book, available across all the chain's 54 sites in the UK.

Can you beat Shakespeare? Of course you can. Ready, steady, quill!

Tigerblood poetry

2011-03-04T09:15:00.001Z

Seriously. Charlie Sheen's poetry. As turned up by GQ.

And you know what, it's not bad...

Commercial: Neovella

2011-03-03T10:00:00.000Z

Beware! If you remember A Million Penguins look away now! New crowdsourced fiction platform ahoy!

Says Neovella:

neovella is an "exquisite cadaver" method for writing stories with your friends.

write your line, watch your friends add on, and witness the new and unpredictable life of your stories unfold. you'll have to be there to experience it.

And then if your storiesa re top-ranked, they could get flogged through Amazon singles. Gang, unleash your vampire angel stories now!

Commercial: tweet talk give

2011-03-02T10:48:00.003Z

James Hogwood, he of the rather wonderful pushes emotional buttons, is doing a rather wonderful thing tomorrow, as part of World Book Day. I'll leave it to him to explain; but if you're booky, and generous - which I know you are - you really should take part in:

This Thursday is world book day, a unesco-designated day that celebrates all that books bring us. To mark it, and to raise money for Book Aid International, I'm holding a sponsored twitter book club on Thursday night. It's called tweet talk give, and we'll be discussing Haruki Murakami's "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running".

Will you sponsor us at http://www.justgiving.com/tweettalkgive?

Every £2 you give will send another book to a community in sub-saharan africa, the poorest region on the planet. I know it's cheeky to ask, but you'll be giving the gift of imagination, education and hope to people who will really appreciate it. and that's awfully nice of you.

if you're on twitter, you'd be most welcome to join in at 8pm on thursday, on the #tweettalkgive hashtag. Or pass it on to anyone who might be interested. You don't have to read the book, as I'm doing a series of audioboos on my blog that will give you a flavour of it.

Sorry again to be cheeky, but as you're a book-loving bunch i hope you'll take the opportunity to do something amazing.

And while you there, you should also check out James' latest project, notyetemoticons.

A prediction that should be banned

2011-02-28T09:56:00.003Z

Forgive, for I am about to don a tin hat, and pen a criticism of the sainted Warren Buffet, normally a model of clear, if folksy, business communication. But, really, why give people this hostage to fortune, in the most recent letter to his shareholders:

Now, as in 1776, 1861, 1932 and 1941, America’s best days lie ahead.

My concern is not that it might be true, or, indeed false, now. It is rather that, one day, it will definitely be false. I suspect in years to come, we will sift many attempts at homespun boosterism like this, and wonder, why were so many willing to be called out on such hubris?

On the language of repression

2011-02-25T10:39:00.002Z

I'm currently reading Rysczard Kapuscinski's Shah of Shahs, which as an elliptical account of the fall of Mohammad Rezā Pahlavi, has some eerie parallels with what's going on in Libya at the moment.

I recommend you read it too, not least because it has some gruesome detail on how the Shah's secret police, the Savak, operated. And one of their tools was close attention to language:

Experience had taught [people] to avoid uttering such terms as oppressiveness, darkness, burden, abyss, collapse, quagmire, putrefaction, cage, bars, chain, gag, truncheon, boot, claptrap, screw, pocket, paw, madness, and expressions like lie down, lie flat, spreadeagle, fall on your face, wither away, gotten flabby, go blind, go deaf, wallow in it, something's out of kilter, something's wrong, all screwed up, something's got to give - because all of them, these nouns, verbs, adjectives, and pronouns, could hide allusions to the Shah's regime, and thus formed a connotative minefield where you could get blown to bits with one slip of the tongue.

Could you live in a world like that?

Buck vs Nagra

2011-02-23T10:43:00.003Z

No, no, not an actual fight, lest you get the idea that the esteemed Daljit is having some sort of fisticuffs with the equally esteemed Peter of R.E.M.

But Daljit said something at the Faber Academy last night which blew my mind: that he can have a poem 'open' - that is, playing with it, editing it, reshaping, re-writing - for up to three years. He doesn't want to lock it down until the last possible moment.

And I think why that both resonated and surprised me is the influence of Peter on my as, effectively my first creative role model when growing up, and pretending that I really could play rhythm guitar.

Peter's expressed his creative philosophy in many places over the years, and so this recent interview with Pitchfork is as good as an exemplar of it as any:

But still, I want to do it [the record] really quickly and immediately and not do a huge amount of overdubs. The last record, of the 11 songs, probably nine of them had virtually no overdubs. They were all complete live takes with maybe one extra guitar added at the chorus. And I liked that; it attracted me to just go in and play it like that.

Now, I know that's slightly confusing the recording of the song and album with the writing of it, but still, I think the two approaches are clear enough: quickly and frequently vs slowly and by accretion.

And I think I was so stunned last night, because actually I'd never had my default mode of creation challenged - as Steve puts it, 'do loads, be brilliant'.

Now, I'm not sure how much I can change things up so I become slightly less Peter and slightly more Daljit in approach. But I think it's something that needs to be done.

The Story 2011

2011-02-21T14:22:00.001Z

So, I was at The Story 2011 last week, and I thought it made sense to try and use Storify to capture what I thought of the day. Thoughts, feedback most welcome.

Signs that there's a recession on (1)

2011-02-09T18:45:00.003Z

The return of improvisational shows to the airwaves; by which I mean Showstopper, which is doing unpredictable jazz hands things on Radio 4 right now, and also Fast and Loose on BBC 2. Presumably because they're cheap, presumably because the writer's invoice is one less to pay. Further evidence? Whose Line Is It Anyway? was popular in the early 1990s, or as we also know it, the 'that wasn't very bad was it?' recession.

Poetry: Verbatim Poetry

2011-01-20T11:27:00.001Z

The good folks of Verbatim Poetry have published another wee thing that I found recently. You can find it over here. Particularly suited to those of you who are connoisseurs of first date banter.

Poetry: Poetry Digest

2011-01-17T10:21:00.001Z

Poetry Digest 4
Originally uploaded by SgtRock333

Ovens were manned. Cakes were baked. Words were read. Hurrah!

On digital afterlives

2011-01-13T11:30:00.003Z

The NYT article by Rob Walker, on what happens to our digital... (I was going to say 'ephemera', but considering the subject, that's not right) stuff after we die, is a must. It's been a long time since I've read something where I was highlighting and annotating the text with abandon.

And a hats off as well for David Eagleman, neuroscientist, writer, and businessman too, who has founded a firm which is grappling with how to solve some of these issues.

Go read.

Poetry: A cake-filled reminder

2011-01-12T12:00:00.000Z

that you can come and eat me, and my words.

I'll be reading at the launch of the new edition of Poetry Digest, which I think it's safe to say is the world's only edible poetry magazine.

Join me and the delicious company of Julia Bird, Geraldine Clarkson, Andy Jones, Daniel Payne, Jacqueline Saphra, Susie Wild and Juliet Wilson. Munching will happen at The Bell in Spitalfields, from 4pm on Sunday 16th January.

And you've started eating cake again, haven't you? Jolly good.

Poetry: A scent of you

2011-01-06T15:29:00.000Z

A scent of you
(with apologies to Joni Mitchell)

I met her in Fitzrovia, fragrance in the air.
“I nose this town,” I said and followed her vapour trails
to Chanel No 5 and Chelsea – she’s a Peter Jones girl.
To Bow and barley and the stout pint we drank.

By Pudding Lane the burning tinge was cinnamon,
the foundations of her gin palace lemon.
Strawberries in Southwark soon followed,
and to Oval and its square-cut grass,
the sharp-cut mint in which she washed me.

A sniff on the wind and I’m falling.
“You smell like you now,” she said, smiling.

Listorama: Facebook status updates vol 18

2011-01-06T11:28:00.001Z

BetaRish (is)...

is the forever guy

lost the sleep lottery again last night

is arm aber sexy

is on the axis of Bovril

Last of the summer days

This, this is my forever

Blitz, you test me

hopes you can join him from 6.45 this evening at Tate Modern, for some poetry, art, wine, views

Big poetic props to Fred Hale, Kirsti Green, Hella Becker, @Elika, Lorelei Mathias and Camilla for supporting my versifying at Tate Modern. Pamphlets available from the bookshop there

In the hall the girls come and go / Singing of Cruz, Taio

missed his stop, thanks to Franzen’s ‘Freedom’

is up for a knuckles-up, knock-down drag-out

awoke to an accident outside the front door

First body, last body

A yomp here and yomp there

says ‘wait, hey wait…’

is only available for this limited period. Hurry, while stocks last

‘In the room the women come and go / Talking of Michelangelo’. Celebrate National Poetry Day on Facebook

Books become cities, before they become clouds and trails of memories

wonders if there’s an equivalent of quantitative easing to combat emotional deflation

Infinity: it’s not as small as you think

is contemplating luck and how to lose it

is somewhere in the sweet exile of text

is bringing dynamite and a crane

is still pondering The Social Network

is progressive like a fox

is more Levin than Vronsky

Welcome to the day the axe falls

is telescoping poems

is still not convinced by the view

is noisy, beautiful

My magpie eyes are hungry for the prize

Give me the money or I’ll shoot you right between the eyes

My greedy eyes, my beady eyes, they swivel and they stare

is copping a feel, all day long

all hail All Souls

is so into you

The cold is winning. Bah

is dreaming about soul cakes

#nonaggressionpactfriday

How early it was, how early

pacta sunt servanda

Set a course that I don’t know

yes, I know I have not said nothing

Only beauty can save the world now

Easy come, easy go

is aiming to avoid an omnishambles

And when I told you that I meant it, I really did, then at least; at least, as much as I could, as much as anyone could. Which might not be much; but should be enough

is destitute of feathers

Axis of cocktails

Another damned thick DM piece! Always scribble, scribble, scribble! Eh Mr Dastidar?

The last sentence? Now, that was a good one

is from the school of gentlemen amateurs

To Italia!

might be right

My second favourite way to start the day: breakfast at The Wolseley with Kirsty Wear and Keren Eldad

is tangled in red ribbons

Sleeping is giving in

is zero harm

is The New You

needs a rubric

The number is up

is an octothorpe

is contemplating ideology

Mastery might be mine

has been captured by seamonsters

will attempt to get a toothbrush in a poem

If you wait for permission for your pleasures, you’ll be waiting a long time

did your Photoshop Handsome

is waiting for the carpet fitter (not a euphemism)

is in the katzenjammer season

is a vector-based lifeform

was expected to slow down

is the new Montagu Norman

Rome 0 Bethlehem 1

Girls, be ambitious! Boys, be audacious!

All day I dream of shelves

1.1.11. Go

spends his days thinking of you

is drafting

is coming up for an approximation of air

will be kidnapping submarines later

Admin, you test me, some more

Poetry: Hammers

2011-01-04T14:30:00.001Z

In response to this tweet, by Elika:

Hammers

Ladies, we men are as simple as hammers.
It’s the nailing of feelings we can’t land.
Emotional intelligence reduces us to stammers.
Ladies, we men are as simple as hammers.
If only we were trained to be better planners,
we’d plan to try, sometime, to understand.
Ladies, we men are as simple as hammers.
It’s the nailing of feelings we can’t land.

Poetry: Poetry Digest

2011-01-04T12:00:00.001Z

Otherwise known as a chance to come and eat me, and my words.

I'll be reading at the launch of the new edition of Poetry Digest, which I think it's safe to say is the world's only edible poetry magazine.

Join me and the delicious company of Julia Bird, Geraldine Clarkson, Andy Jones, Daniel Payne, Jacqueline Saphra, Susie Wild and Juliet Wilson. Munching will happen at The Bell in Spitalfields, from 4pm on Sunday 16th January.

Plenty of time for you to have broken your 'eat less cake' resolution. Marvellous.

Poetry: Black ear

2011-01-02T11:56:00.002Z

A first draft; I suspect for the lady in question, something like it will be true.

Black ear

It’s at 10.45 on New Year’s Day,
when clutching a Coke and
half a bottle of red, that she
shrugs the leopard-print coat
off her shoulders and launches
her resolution at him: this is
the year of throwing more tantrums.