Sunday, March 15, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Everything Is Disgusting. Part 2.
"Phlush!" screamed Johnny, wetly spitting the fish out his mouth.
"What?" said Eggbert, putting down the bucket of fish and scrambling to get out his notepad and pen so he could write down Johnny's creative gem.
"Plush you fool! Plush!" Eggbert wrote down the word "Plush" hoping this was an actual idea and not another game Johnny was playing.
"We'll make the entire range into plush toys! Kids love plush! More fish Eggbert!" Eggbert threw another fish at Johnny, missing hopelessly, he scribbled down the words "Entire range made out of plush."
Eggbert hoped that at some stage, Johnny would tell him exactly what it was they were supposed to be brainstorming.
"It's a new range of children's deodorant. Children smell like shit ergo children's deodorant. We'll make the new bottle out of plush and give them character and personalities. Maybe a bunch of snakes or other creatures who go "SSSS" when you apply pressure to their heads."
"Genius Johnny"
"Superb"
"I'll get on the horn to the suppliers immediately."
"I'll set up a brain storm to work out what other creatures we could use."
Johnny thought things and when he did, people ran to make sure they happened. Such is the job of a creative mastermind.
Eggbert spent the rest of the morning briefing the designers on what to scamp up for the client. "Snakes you say?" said Bradley, the lead designer, picking up his marker pen and sticking his tongue out. "Yes, snakes. Friendly ones that go "SSSS" when you apply pressure to their heads. I've worked out some names for them but I think right now we should just present the concept."
"mmmm…Ok." Bradley walked slowly back to his Macintosh, tapping his pen as he walked going "SSSSS"…."Friendly snakes"…."SSSS"…
"Eggbert you fool! Get in here!" Johhny yelled across the studio, Eggbert dropped his coffee all over the sandwich lady and ran towards Johnny's office. "Yes master?" he said.
"What?" said Eggbert, putting down the bucket of fish and scrambling to get out his notepad and pen so he could write down Johnny's creative gem.
"Plush you fool! Plush!" Eggbert wrote down the word "Plush" hoping this was an actual idea and not another game Johnny was playing.
"We'll make the entire range into plush toys! Kids love plush! More fish Eggbert!" Eggbert threw another fish at Johnny, missing hopelessly, he scribbled down the words "Entire range made out of plush."
Eggbert hoped that at some stage, Johnny would tell him exactly what it was they were supposed to be brainstorming.
"It's a new range of children's deodorant. Children smell like shit ergo children's deodorant. We'll make the new bottle out of plush and give them character and personalities. Maybe a bunch of snakes or other creatures who go "SSSS" when you apply pressure to their heads."
"Genius Johnny"
"Superb"
"I'll get on the horn to the suppliers immediately."
"I'll set up a brain storm to work out what other creatures we could use."
Johnny thought things and when he did, people ran to make sure they happened. Such is the job of a creative mastermind.
Eggbert spent the rest of the morning briefing the designers on what to scamp up for the client. "Snakes you say?" said Bradley, the lead designer, picking up his marker pen and sticking his tongue out. "Yes, snakes. Friendly ones that go "SSSS" when you apply pressure to their heads. I've worked out some names for them but I think right now we should just present the concept."
"mmmm…Ok." Bradley walked slowly back to his Macintosh, tapping his pen as he walked going "SSSSS"…."Friendly snakes"…."SSSS"…
"Eggbert you fool! Get in here!" Johhny yelled across the studio, Eggbert dropped his coffee all over the sandwich lady and ran towards Johnny's office. "Yes master?" he said.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Everything Is Disgusting. Part 1.
"I'm not feeling creative enough yet, Eggbert. Throw another Koi in the tank." Eggbert picked up the bucket of fish and tipped another of them into the sensory deprivation chamber which held his master. If Salvador Dali ever made soup, this is what it would look like. A mixture of exotic rubber ducks, an eel, three Koi and a blow-up doll floating around in the dark water, occasionally bumping up against Johnny Ketch, creative mastermind and ruler of the advertising world. Or so, many thought. Those who worked for him at least. And one or two people he made a point of telling on a daily basis. His girlfriend, for example. "I am a creative mastermind and ruler of the advertising world!" he would say.
"Yes" she would say, "Sure".
"Hmmm" said Johnny. "It would appear that perhaps I've overdone it with the ducks this time."
"Would you like me to take some out?" Asked Eggbert, preparing to get into the bright orange wetsuit that Johnny had told him to wear whenever he got into the tank. Apparently, if he didn't wear the suit, Johnny might mistake him for a rogue idea and wrestle him to the bottom of the tank where he would choke the life out of him and rise to the surface with his prize in-between his teeth. At least that was what Johnny had told him. Eggbert was not a small man by any means and there was more than a slight chance that he could take Johnny in a fair fight. Johnny, however, never fought fair. The fight might start out fair, in an empty room, with locked doors but by the end of it, the poor bastard who had challenged Johnny to the alleged fair fight, would find himself strung upside down with Christmas decorations, an apple in his mouth and the strange desire to visit Cuba for a long, long time.
"No Eggbert, it's ruined, I can no longer be creative here. Prepare the Dawn Wing."
"Yes Master." Eggbert was a junior copywriter. He had taken this job in the hope that he might learn something from the great Johnny Ketch. So far, he had learned that 7 rubber ducks in a sensory depravation tank was too many. That and Johnny had a thing about being called "Master".
The Dawn Wing as described in the "About Johnny Ketch" book Eggbert had been given, involved hanging Johnny over the edge of the huge Ketch & Co Advertising Agency building by his feet and throwing fish at him. Catching the fish in his teeth would inspire him, as the theory went, and result in the most creative advertising campaign ever imagined. Eggbert flip-flopped the fish into the bucket and wondered weather he should use the live Koi or get some new but very dead fish from the grocer down the street. Live fish were probably more creative he surmised and so he took the Koi over to the side of the building where Johnny was waiting in a pink batman costume.
"Yes" she would say, "Sure".
"Hmmm" said Johnny. "It would appear that perhaps I've overdone it with the ducks this time."
"Would you like me to take some out?" Asked Eggbert, preparing to get into the bright orange wetsuit that Johnny had told him to wear whenever he got into the tank. Apparently, if he didn't wear the suit, Johnny might mistake him for a rogue idea and wrestle him to the bottom of the tank where he would choke the life out of him and rise to the surface with his prize in-between his teeth. At least that was what Johnny had told him. Eggbert was not a small man by any means and there was more than a slight chance that he could take Johnny in a fair fight. Johnny, however, never fought fair. The fight might start out fair, in an empty room, with locked doors but by the end of it, the poor bastard who had challenged Johnny to the alleged fair fight, would find himself strung upside down with Christmas decorations, an apple in his mouth and the strange desire to visit Cuba for a long, long time.
"No Eggbert, it's ruined, I can no longer be creative here. Prepare the Dawn Wing."
"Yes Master." Eggbert was a junior copywriter. He had taken this job in the hope that he might learn something from the great Johnny Ketch. So far, he had learned that 7 rubber ducks in a sensory depravation tank was too many. That and Johnny had a thing about being called "Master".
The Dawn Wing as described in the "About Johnny Ketch" book Eggbert had been given, involved hanging Johnny over the edge of the huge Ketch & Co Advertising Agency building by his feet and throwing fish at him. Catching the fish in his teeth would inspire him, as the theory went, and result in the most creative advertising campaign ever imagined. Eggbert flip-flopped the fish into the bucket and wondered weather he should use the live Koi or get some new but very dead fish from the grocer down the street. Live fish were probably more creative he surmised and so he took the Koi over to the side of the building where Johnny was waiting in a pink batman costume.
To Know
We’re having the warm rains the Summer brings to the Eastern Cape right now and this evening they brought a lightning storm with them.
I’m smoking a cigarette when I notice the first drops of rain and decide to walk through the garden while it rains, which has a telephone pole in the back corner, behind some shrubs.
I’m right next to it staring up at the night sky when the most brilliant flash of light I’ve ever seen fills my vision followed by the sound of a thousand Coke cans being opened at once.
Suddenly, every little piece of information I’ve wanted to remember but can’t, that’s been on the tip of my tongue, flows into the forefront of my brain and I can see exactly how everything relates.
Every big decision in my life is made at the same time and I question nothing. I know exactly what I need to do.
And there is the smell of burning flesh.
I’m smoking a cigarette when I notice the first drops of rain and decide to walk through the garden while it rains, which has a telephone pole in the back corner, behind some shrubs.
I’m right next to it staring up at the night sky when the most brilliant flash of light I’ve ever seen fills my vision followed by the sound of a thousand Coke cans being opened at once.
Suddenly, every little piece of information I’ve wanted to remember but can’t, that’s been on the tip of my tongue, flows into the forefront of my brain and I can see exactly how everything relates.
Every big decision in my life is made at the same time and I question nothing. I know exactly what I need to do.
And there is the smell of burning flesh.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
On Tattoos
The thing you've got to remember about tattoos as well, when it comes to "will this still have meaning/relevance in my life in 50 years time" is that it doesn't really matter when you get that old anyway because at that point you're far more concerned with whether or not you've shit yourself.
More importantly, like any word that you say often enough loses its meaning and becomes just a noise, tattoos become photographs of where you were in your life when you got them, more than the original meaning. It's not surprising that psychologists have found that people get tattoos during turning points or periods of upheaval in their life and this had held true for all of mine. I don't so much see a flammable symbol on my arm as I do my last day of college and the night after I got it.
I will add that tattoos are in fact, the only scars you get to choose. Although actual scars still do make for better stories.
As I said to my mother "Yes, I know you believe my body to be the Temple of God, so just think of it as me changing the wallpaper."
More importantly, like any word that you say often enough loses its meaning and becomes just a noise, tattoos become photographs of where you were in your life when you got them, more than the original meaning. It's not surprising that psychologists have found that people get tattoos during turning points or periods of upheaval in their life and this had held true for all of mine. I don't so much see a flammable symbol on my arm as I do my last day of college and the night after I got it.
I will add that tattoos are in fact, the only scars you get to choose. Although actual scars still do make for better stories.
As I said to my mother "Yes, I know you believe my body to be the Temple of God, so just think of it as me changing the wallpaper."
Friday, February 27, 2009
The Kid
Some homeless guy first found the kid. Nearly flipped his lid. Ran up to me and said
“Listen to the crazy shit this kid is spewing” which coming from a homeless guy, reeking of cigarettes and stale booze, is a pretty bold statement. So I humoured him and said ok, then turned to the kid. What he said next nearly destroyed the world.
“What if we were all just nice to each other?”
It may seem like a pretty common idea now but back then, you got to remember, we were killing each other ‘n warring ‘n raping the earth, not all peaceful like it is now. So I ask him to repeat himself and he says
“I said, what if we were all just nice to each other?”
So I phone the Chief of police and get him out here to listen to this kid’s crazy political theory, some kind of socialisitimarxisidemocracticthingamaboo that just don’t seem to make sense even though it does.
Chief comes down with a couple of SWAT teams to see what’s going on. By now, there’s a bit of a crowd around the kid, and he’s a dirty little bastard in some torn jeans and what used to be a white t-shirt with some fucked up sneakers and a runny nose and the crowd's doing that “raarraarrarararr” low mosquito noise. The chief yells “What the hell’s going on here?”
“This kid’s lost his mind Chief” says some cop who got their first.
“You called me out here for a kid? Throw him in the back of a van and get him to a home or something I aint got time for shit like this.”
“No Chief, listen to what the kid’s got to say”
“This better be fucking amazing son or you’re going to be working security at a fucking lemonade stand once I’m done with you.”
“It is Chief, listen to him.”
Chief turns to the kid and says “Ok kid, let’s have it. What you got to say?”
“I said” and he clears his throat “What if we were all just nice to each other?”
And at that moment a bead of sweat was born on the Chief’s forehead and I swear I saw it happen. I could see the cogs in his head working and the little puffs of steam coming out his ears.
Ten minutes later there’s a black helicopter touching down in the middle of the street and guys in black suits and black sunglasses hop out and grab the kid, all civilised like because obviously we’re all watching to see what’s going to happen, which is nothing because once he’s in the copter, they take off again. And that’s the last we ever saw of that kid.
I heard that they took him to see the president. And then they took him to this tiny little cement room down in the bottom of the building, and shot him in the back of the head.
It was a while before we managed to get the word out about what the kid said, but we did, the world changed and you’d best be grateful for what that kid did, saying what everyone was thinking before they were even thinking it.
“Listen to the crazy shit this kid is spewing” which coming from a homeless guy, reeking of cigarettes and stale booze, is a pretty bold statement. So I humoured him and said ok, then turned to the kid. What he said next nearly destroyed the world.
“What if we were all just nice to each other?”
It may seem like a pretty common idea now but back then, you got to remember, we were killing each other ‘n warring ‘n raping the earth, not all peaceful like it is now. So I ask him to repeat himself and he says
“I said, what if we were all just nice to each other?”
So I phone the Chief of police and get him out here to listen to this kid’s crazy political theory, some kind of socialisitimarxisidemocracticthingamaboo that just don’t seem to make sense even though it does.
Chief comes down with a couple of SWAT teams to see what’s going on. By now, there’s a bit of a crowd around the kid, and he’s a dirty little bastard in some torn jeans and what used to be a white t-shirt with some fucked up sneakers and a runny nose and the crowd's doing that “raarraarrarararr” low mosquito noise. The chief yells “What the hell’s going on here?”
“This kid’s lost his mind Chief” says some cop who got their first.
“You called me out here for a kid? Throw him in the back of a van and get him to a home or something I aint got time for shit like this.”
“No Chief, listen to what the kid’s got to say”
“This better be fucking amazing son or you’re going to be working security at a fucking lemonade stand once I’m done with you.”
“It is Chief, listen to him.”
Chief turns to the kid and says “Ok kid, let’s have it. What you got to say?”
“I said” and he clears his throat “What if we were all just nice to each other?”
And at that moment a bead of sweat was born on the Chief’s forehead and I swear I saw it happen. I could see the cogs in his head working and the little puffs of steam coming out his ears.
Ten minutes later there’s a black helicopter touching down in the middle of the street and guys in black suits and black sunglasses hop out and grab the kid, all civilised like because obviously we’re all watching to see what’s going to happen, which is nothing because once he’s in the copter, they take off again. And that’s the last we ever saw of that kid.
I heard that they took him to see the president. And then they took him to this tiny little cement room down in the bottom of the building, and shot him in the back of the head.
It was a while before we managed to get the word out about what the kid said, but we did, the world changed and you’d best be grateful for what that kid did, saying what everyone was thinking before they were even thinking it.
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