daily writing: changed at the last minute.

So many things change at the last minute these days. Nothing goes according to plan, or everything does, and the last crucial part of the plan crumbles and then shit flies.

I was going to write about how frustrated I am in putting my book together. Many people telling me to do different things. "If you do this you'll get hired"

This is your golden egg, sure-fire plan, Ace in the hole, trump card.

Stupidly, I listened to all of them and did what I was told.

What's this eh? a book should only have print ads, visual, headline copy?
By Joves.
What else?
No body copy, no long copy?
Holy crap man.
Oh and forget TV-scripts and Radio scripts too. They're bad news.
Why?
I don't know.
Maybe creatives these days are too busy to take time to read your pathetic, badly written little script, maybe it's just a pre-conception that juniours can't ever do anything well other than print.

I don't know.

Nah this won't work, no link with the product.
That's WAY too safe man.
"Unleash your creativity!"(seriously, I was told this)
Fact is, mate, Creative Directors want to be shocked.
Let's give them something funny, witty, and FUCK the product, selling point, and target audience while we're at it man.
We're fucking Juniors.
Who gives a shit?

Everyone's telling you something else, something different.

Sometimes you find someone who makes sense.

I guess this is kind of a thank you letter to Dave Trott for putting up this post.

For whatever reason, the man blogs every day. I suspect it's something to do with keeping himself sharp and on edge. If that entertains people as well, icing on the cake.

My head still feels like it's about to explode, I'm going to do something about it.

daily writing: spill.com

The thing about video reviews is they're rather hard to find. Video movie reviews are doubly so, but they do a good job at striking a balance between entertainment and journalism. Whenever they're done right that is.

The Spill crew are Korey, Cyrus, Leon and another white dude whose name I can't spell. Carlyle or something according to spell-check. Sounds like Kal-El to me. Whatever.

4 dudes, 2 white 2 black sitting around talking about movies may not sound like much, but the Spill crew bring a fresh take to the tables that make most of their reviews worth a watch, especially if you've seen the films. It's a great balance of personality.

All four of the reviewers bring a different point of view, and the good thing about it is you never feel like one guy is dominating the

Each review is about 4-5 minutes long and much like the ebert and siskel reviews of old, they spend the first half of the review setting things up. While they may not be as insightful or informative as some other written reviews out there, the kitchen table discussion, impromptu feel that these guys exude generally make most of their reviews a good watch. They laugh in the middle of reviews, crack superman jokes, sex jokes and all sorts of shenanigans before the review takes a serious turns and they begin discussing the meat of the film. Craft, acting, character development and so on. Granted, a four minute video holds nothing when it comes to a well written article, but they do a good job on giving you a taste of what they movie is about and if it's worth your time and money.

They pretty much follow the Ebert style of reviewing where each movie is graded differently based on what kind of genre, expectations and target audience the film has. Each film generally receives a fair review but they never hesitate to call a turd a turd.

Granted, I don't really agree with all the opinions these guys have, and it may not have the big journalistic names as other reviews, but if it's anything they have in abundance is passion and wit. And that, in my opinion, is worth plenty.

daily writing: movies

Watched dark knight, thank you for smoking, and fargo.

Awesome, great, good. In that order. Also watched a bunch of movie reviews.

And now time to do more ads.

Unrequited Summer Love: the cutest thing ever.

no really.

daily writing

Guiness say: "Good things come to those who wait."

Confucius say: "old one no go, new one not come."

me? I just say "fuck" alot.

daily writing: End of an era.

Say what you will about his turtleneck-wearing ass, there's no denying the impact Steve Jobs has had on Apple, and conversely the entire consumer electronics industry.

Now that he's retiring from his position as annual MacWorld keynote presenter, maclife.com has put up a collection of "greatest stevenote moments."

It's an interesting post and if you've just been an Apple user and fan for the last few years as I have. It's fascinating to see how the power of one individual turned what was basically a dying company into the beloved giant that it is today.

At the very least, it's a great series of presentations. It's just amazing how much charisma this one person can exude. Of particular interest is the 1997 MacWorld expo at Boston.



"Deep in the dark “beleagued Apple” days a vest-and-collarless-shirt wearing Jobs, freshly returned to Apple, gives an impassioned speech about Apple’s continued relevance in the computer industry. He then shares the startling news of a new Apple-Microsoft alliance, including Internet Explorer as the default browser on all Macs. The crowd is not happy. Steve goes on to explain that Microsoft has kindly ensured Apple’s survival for a while through the purchase of 150 million bucks worth of Apple stock (non-voting shares, he hastens to explain)."

Goodbye, Steve Jobs Keynote, we had such fun times.

daily writing: another spot of trott

Just because I have so much to share. *snark*

A recent post caught my untrained eye. But then again with headlines bolded and the size of elephants, who wouldn't notice? The title is "Radical Common Sense".

Apparently in an agency he worked for they used to have a "Radical Common Sense Session" every Friday. I suspect that it's much like casual Friday, just more casual and with crazy shit.

Someone appointed the week before would present a example of "radical common sense" which, in essence means that you show something so simple, obvious, yet clever that you go "Now why haven't I thought of that?" I think it has to be non-advertising related, and it could be anything from a dishwasher with hands to African Totem poles made from cheese. I don't know. It's not made entirely clear what they should be. Which is kind of the point I assume.

Maybe I'll do my own weekly or bi-weekly thing where I present an example of radical common sense. If you can't tell already, I'm in love with the phrase "radical common sense.

home alone. day 4?

Awoke at 12. Again.

Against my will, I got up, went to the dining room, checked my emails, and read pick me for a few more pages before brushing teeth.

Spent some time finishing up ads from yesterday. Still flailing my head from last night's left4dead session. Boy that went on for a while. Stupid fuckers only stayed in two's thinking they could hack it just the two of them. We bid goodbye to Mercy West hospital 2 hours in, but the clock struck half past 2 by then. And only one of us got out alive. It was blisteringly painful.

Fucking tards.

Anyway. Went out, had breakfast at the breakfast house downstairs. Waited in line like a good sheep at the bank to deposit Eric's money. Then headed home. Humming to myself all day.

Came back, disappointed myself Heroes and cheered for Terminator, hoping it doesn't get canceled. Worked on ads again. Roads that look like roller-coaster trails are surprisingly hard to draw.

It's Ivy, on msn. Hasn't she gone yet? Apparently not. Silly girl. No planning whatsoever. I just hope she gets a ticket. If she doesn't she'll just have to stay in London for a few more days. Which might be a good thing for me.

Told her about my mistake.

hardy har har.

Next time some retard asks of the prettiness of any of my friends I say NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Sorry friends but it's to protect youse.

Oh hehe.

Hope he doesn't read this. If you are I'M SORRY.

Just had a coupla ideas or RyanAir. But I have no idea how to present them. Yet. It'l come. In fact, it came while I was writing this.

Joey calls. Talk shit for abit, and then tells me he's booked a table at four seasons at bayswater for 7pm.

hoooh boy.

At least Ivy will be able to taste the often-mentioned-always-referenced-but-I-haven't-tried Four Seasons Roast Duck©. Just because it is SO GOOD as I'm told. We'll see.

Also asked if I wanted to stay over at his place tonight so it would be easier to pick up Ivy at 8 tomorrow. Technically he's right. His abode is only a bus's ride away, 15 mins from Heathrow. Waking up late, PS3, all those are very good incentives. But then I remind myself I've been waking up late for the past few days already.

I'll have none of that.

So for all intents and purposes I declined his generous offer.
10 ten times at least.
Sigh.
He's cool tho, just a dick sometimes.
And very pushy.

Anyways. Tomorrow big day. Ivy coming. Wimbledon. Four Seasons. I'm letting Joseph pay this time. Better turn in early. After I do up the RyanAir ad of course.

Cog

Technically we're cogs in some kind of machine or other. The question is which cog do you aspire to be?

daily writing: Missed

This time it will be more daily than the last.

My books finally arrived yesterday, and I'm going with Pick me as my first read. It's as full of energy, enthusiasm and wit as a normal book about advertising, it just hasn't told me anything new so far. Whatever. I'm only 30 pages in, I'll judge after reading the whole thing.

Ivy is supposed to be coming tomorrow. 8am in the morning she arrives. big day.

daily writing: FInal Fantasy

I'm a huge fan of the Final Fantasy series. Despite all the grieving I've given it with it's overly complicated plots, underdeveloped characters, mindless grind-centric sub-quests and overproduced cutscenes, I've played each game released to date at least once, and I look forward to each new game with anticipation. I was a VII fanboy for quite some time. The Aries death scene is permanently burned into my retina, and I can hum most of the music featured in the game. I spent hours lurking in online messageboards, trying out every dodgy tip to revive Aries, and squealed in horror when I found out she wasn't meant to live after all. Sephiroth was one of my favourite villain ever, and I cheered for joy when I beat him in both Kingdom Hearts 1 and 2.

It's one of the reasons I find this article such an interesting read. An article comparing the Final Fantasy series with Battleships and model-making? Oh I am so there.

The escapist columns usually bore me to death. Musings that aren't really interesting, somewhat overwritten, and devoid of soul. I've not read one for ages, but this one I seem to connect with. He makes some good points, and while I don't agree with him completely, I can definitely see where he's coming from.

If nothing else, at least I learned abit about Battleships and the Japanese need for completionism.

daily writing: home alone day 1

I woke up at noon, but the sun wasn't up. Or at least it felt like it wasn't. Rain drizzled in that annoying way that English rain does, and the sun covered itself behind clouds of gray. Like it's ashamed of something.

The house is just the way I left it last night, not a door opened, a dust settled. Nothing happened without my knowledge. Even the dishes were still there, waiting to be washed. It's just depressing. I just hope this house doesn't turn into a full-on bachelor pad by the time I'm done.

I slept with the heating off, I figured I'd save some power make that 10 pounds last as long as I can. Bathed for the first time in 24 hours or more. The plumber specifically told me to tell my house-mates not to use the shower until the next day. Because otherwise all his work will be for naught and the leaking will continue.

I was a good boy and did as I was told. Luckily, when the shopkeeper came in yesterday he just assumed that I was renting this place, instead of sub-letting it from my friends. It worked out fine. He didn't suspect a thing. I'm SUCH a good liar.

Ann bought me Belgian Hot chocolate for Christmas (early Christmas I suppose), and I must say I'm pleasantly surprised, and mildly touched. Even though now that we're out of milk I've resorted to eating them as candy snacks, they still hold up. Chocolate will be chocolate I suppose.

My AD seems to be less of a retard today, either that or I'm losing my intelligence.

MSN has kept me company, it seems to be my only link to the lame excuse of a social life that I possess.

Day one: uneventful, boring and tedious. This has to go on for 2 more weeks.

Lord help me.

well.

almost didn't miss.

Still, this effort is proving fun and useful.

daily writing: alone in the house

Today's the day Lyn leaves, and that means I get the whole house to myself. Even though it sounds like a good thing I assure you it's not.

An empty house, devoid of people, sounds, and the usual drama and complaining. It may be a little bit more peaceful, but nothing beats the company of friends.

To remind me that I need to do certain things to make sure the house is in working order, Lyn put up 3 pink post-its that say, "Turn off heater and lights", "Lock Door" and "Feed Fish", the latter two coming with their respective hand drawn symbols.

This should tell you how forgetful I am.

Well, at least I don't think I've missed a day in my "daily writings" project yet. Oh you didn't know I was conducting a project? Of course you didn't. How could you? It's not like you exist, dear constant reader.

There's been one, I think for every day in December so far. I think. It's been a really useful exercise. I get to practice my writing and add to my archives at the same time. Of course, being a writer I really should be writing more than this, but as someone once said to a cowboy, "take it slow."

Anyway, thus concludes my column on my daily column. I won't be able to cheat tomorrow by writing about my writing anymore. Any more times than one would be cheating. Right?

Chelsea 2 Cluj 1

I arrived an hour early. The tube, as usual, was packed. It wasn't until I got off the train that I realized almost everyone on that train was heading for Stamford Bridge. 6pm and dark, everyone seemed to be wondering around aimlessly. Already Chelsea was accumulating quite a crowd. Some were snacking on hotdogs, others smoking, with the color blue uniting everyone under one banner. Even the refreshment stands were blue for crying out loud.

I spent the extra time touring the place. Since it was my first time at a club stadium, I gazed at everything with wonder, constantly starstruck everywhere I go. Huge portraits of stars, of today and yesteryear adorned the wall of the stadium. Names I've read about in books and referenced on shows. I was told all Chelsea fans cared about were results, I was painted a picture of heartless, number-crunching accountants who cheered when the applause sign went on. From this angle, that statement hardly holds water.

I meandered around for a good thirty minutes, before deciding that I can't be at a football game and not be seen buying a burger or a hot dog. It wouldn't feel right, both to me and others around me. So I got a burger and a hot dog. And a drink. Purely for the sake of that. My wallet wasn't thinking that night you see.

Going in, being ushered to my seat and I waited. Again I felt I had to be early. Golly I wouldn't want to miss a minute of it. I thought. I waited another half hour. Songs started playing, and before long the announcer came on. "Chelsea needs to WIN!" he said. Announcing first the eleven challengers taking on the home team today, every name was met with boos and jeers from the crowd, despite the announcer's speech about racism merely minutes before.

Oh what the hell. This isn't the place for political correctness I thought. Then it was time for the Home team's lineup to be announced. Before this I never thought much about the "home" and "away" factor, but man, I'm never making that mistake again. When Joe Cole, Drogba and Cech's name came up, the crowd went wild. Like a slap to the face, tonight was my rude awakening. What a difference it made!

The match was as exciting as a match like this can get, which is to say, very. It was packed to the brim, and people were chanting cheers and songs long before it was kick-off. I realized early on this felt a lot like going to church. A lot of people I don't know, with a lot of songs I don't know. Unlike church, there were no hymn books to follow to, but I handled myself quite finely, I might add. The first half was rather uneventful, we were not playing particularly well, handing them chances and thanking God they never capitalized. But then everything changed around the 40 minute mark. The opening goal was scored by one Kalou. And seeing it coming was met with an enormous satisfaction for my part.

Half-time. Bathroom breaks, hot dogs, pies, sodas, but none for me. I've had my fill. The place was WAY too crowded to do anything else but watch the highlights on tv screens anyway.

The 2nd half started with an equalizing goal from Cluj. Ten minutes in, it wasn't pretty. It was at this time I realized there the seats above us, the ones you need stairs and 20 meters to get to were filled with visitors from Romania. As soon as the ball hit the net, a taunting battle ensued between the two sides. That of course, came to an end when Drogba was switched in for Kalou, 1st half goal scorer. The crowd gave it up for Chelsea's star player, and it didn't take him long to perform either. Six minutes into the game, Chelsea supporters cheered for his goal, nudging Chelsea ahead with two goals to one. Then it was a few yellow cards, before everyone headed home, Chelsea fans especially pleased.

And we won, 2, 1. It was great. And I went home, queuing up along with hundreds of others for the tube, and finishing "Hey Whipple" on the way back. Feeling satisfied, and knowing I'll have something to brag about in front of Daniel the next time I see him.

Chelsea part 1

We won.

It still feels a bit weird to say that but yes, we won, 2-1, thanks to Kalou and Drogba. Will write more tomorrow.

Daily writing: Chelsea

Today's the day of my first football match. In England anyway. A champion's league match, CHELSEA v CFR says the ticket. Kick off at 19:25. Stamford Bridge Stadium, WEST STAND LOWER, GATE: 2 ROW:21 SEAT 0034 25 pounds. PERSISTENT STANDING IS NOT ALLOWED.

Oh, and no smoking.

I'll be out by 4, walk around central London, window shopping, a cuppa coffee, scribbling ideas, before I join the not very big crowd. I hope.

The subject supporting football teams has always fascinated me. I can understand well enough to support you local team, pride and all that. But how does an outsider, who has no affiliation with clubs or local teams chooses who to support?

Personally, I've supported Chelsea since my college days. Before that I wasn't into football much.

A close friend of mine was an ardent fan of Chelsea. This is before they suddenly had millions of pounds in their pockets courtesy of Abromavich. Before Mourinho and before their first title win in 4 decades. I never asked him how he came to support the blues but I suspected it's because of one Frank Lampard.

He would go on for ages how Lampard never missed a match, was never switched out and how amazing he was. Eventually I got to be pretty good friends with this chap and slowly it grew on me. Then one day I decided, just like that, out of the blue, I'm for Chelsea. And that's what I've been saying for 3 or 4 years now.

And that's my bland, boring uninteresting anecdote to how I became a Chelsea guy.

I've not done research, but I'm willing to bet that many Manchester United fans, Arsenal fans and Liverpool fans outside the UK will have a similar story. A friend, a family member, or a figure in authority will have played a very important part in which team a football fan comes to support. Influence of peers, and individuals around oneself.

AH football. So wonderful and yet so divisive. Bringing people together and pushing then further apart at the same time.

Daily writing: some dude.

So some dude called Gordon Comstock (I am sure there's a joke in that name there somewhere, just not sure what) got noticed by Scamp, and subsequently suffered a mini-digg effect. It wasn't enough to crash his site, but noticeable enough that he put up a post addressing new readers.

I can't help but wonder if it's a coincidence that scamp picked up on him after he embedded Scamp's ad on his blog.



Probably just a coincidence.

In other news my AD is driving me nuts. I'm starting to think he's a fucking retard.

Thank god the nabs book club is happening soon.

daily writing: Suck it up.

It seems all my friends are in sorrow somewhat. I feel like I'm living Grey's anatomy. All this drama and soap opera. Breaking up and being sad. At least soap opera on TV will have characters find love or happiness sometimes.

Real life is so often a bitch. They whine and they talk about how it used to be. Memories they probably won't be able to relive. Sulking in their own tears and self pity. It's hard to blame them, but it's still annoying. Sure it makes for riveting stories and soap opera, but as events happening around your person they're hardly interesting, because everyone has the same story, the same tears.

Sad people often fail to realize they're by no means unique in their disposition. When tears roll down and hearts are broken the outside world shuts itself off. Emotions take over and they encase themselves in a bubble. Life becomes all about one person. The one you want back so much.

I want to take a gun, scream "shut up!" and empty rounds into the ceiling, bringing about a cold silence before I pull out a cricket bat and bludgeon them all to death. Partly because when I'm faced with acquaintances like that, my mind draws blanks. I feel powerless to help them, mostly because I just don't know how. Bludgeoning may not solve things for anyone, but at least it's fun to pretend that it does. But mostly I listen and nod, pretending to be interested while picturing their bloodied skulls at the end of my bat, crimson red dripping down forming a thick, murky pool.

But I still like them and feel sorry for them. Am I sane or what?

daily writing: Waiting on a job

My art director of 2 days complained to me that it takes too long to get a job in the London ad agency. It's a nightmare, and everyone knows it. There's not much we can do about it though. It's said it takes an average of 2 years to get a job in the industry, by which time my visa would have run out.

It's an interesting dilemma, but I hope to at least gain some sort of experience by doing placements and crits before I get booted back to Malaysia. Hell, I'm desperate enough as it is.

At least my book arrived today.

The nice fellas at MCBD sent me off with an assignment. Read "Hey Whipple Squeeze this." I read the first 2 pages and already I'm cursing myself for not discovering it earlier. Homer, you're bumped off the top of my reading list for now.

7 pounds well spent.

Looking at some of my friends on facebook, it's reassuring to see I'm not the only one who has gained some weight.

Watched "aku suka jolok" video for the first time in 2 years. Ah, the long forgotten days of my misspent teenage years. Lyn and co vowed to kill me if I ever said it to their face again, so I'm saying it here. Where no fucking body is around.

haha.

2 years on and still nobody comes here regularly. Oh how I love the benefits of being not famous.

And now, I shall provide sound effects to a silent film.

daily writing: a spot of Trott

Anyone who's anyone at all in advertising should be reading the blog of Dave Trott, thinker, advertiser and probable con-artist. Somehow or other everything that appears on his blog is either insightful or mind-blowing. Even when it isn't one of the two it's always incredibly well written and interesting. With a huge load of controversy surrounding a lot of the statement he makes.

I respect Dave Trott's as an advertiser. I don't see how anyone can't, but as a person I'm not so sure.

His latest post is titled "when is it okay to cheat?"

An observant person would notice that the title takes the form of a question. So does he provide an answer? Well, yes.

From my understanding it boils down to 'as long as you don't get caught'.

Now I'm conflicted. Sure the guy has done great work, and is revered in many circles, but it's hard to root for someone who thinks wrongdoing is fine as long as you can get away with it.

Sure "art is what you can get away with", but when art meant anything else other than what it means to the individual?

Maybe he's just defining stealing differently, as a "homage" is very different from "thieving", at least in my book.

"Hypocrisy of outraged morality"? Perhaps. Dave, perhaps.

Dave Trott, as he reveals more and more of himself to us, is starting to bear a startling resemblance to Cassidy, the Irish vampire. Instantly likable but incredibly hard to root for as time goes on.

Do I think he's right? I'm not sure. I don't think stealing is right. I think using elements from someone else's work to complement your own isn't wrong, just bad if someone finds out. "Gorrilla" was 'inspired' by a Canadian ad on youtube.

I do agree that getting caught is stupid, and if someone managed to pull a fast one under my nose I'll probably be impressed before I get angry.

But as Alan Fletcher pointed out: "1+1=3", meaning that something new will often arise with the sum of two old things.

I'm 22, unemployed, and probably stupid. So I'll settle on "It's okay to steal as long what you created was more than the sum of it's stolen parts".

daily writing: rants

The only other thing I need to feel Like Spider Jerusalem right now is a bald head and looks that kill, not because I'm pretty.

They say boredom kills. Whoever they are, I will do nothing to refute that statement. One year ago I thought all I wanted to do was to write great ads, win countless ad awards and work long, exhausting underpaid hours in the ad industry.

I still do, to some extent, but like everything else I've wanted to achieve, life gets in the way.Not my life, but the life everyone else is living. What do you do when nothing goes according to plan? When everything you do turns out out be a dud and nothing seems to make any sense?

Answer? Blog. Write and write and write. Vent your heart out and pour every single drop of blood, sweat and tears into this measly little text box that publishes this block of text into the great, insane world known as the internet. Every turn leads to a dead end, and a man can only take so many dead ends before breaks down and starts blogging about it. Some people wash it down with whiskey, some with beer, others with cigarettes, I do all three, all the while making sure I spell each word right and that every line of meaningless blabber is as interesting to read as possible. I like to write. Writing on a tobacco and alcohol fix is even better. It's not as good as an underpaid job, because at least you know something is going IN to your bank account, but it's good all the same. Keeps me sane, but not sane enough not to blog.

I've wanted to write for a living for quite some time, but now I'm asked to think for a living, which wouldn't be so bad, because thinking is fun too, but whats not so fun is to be asked how to think in order to make a living. It's almost like brain-washing. All these books and courses on how to be successful in the modern marketplace are effectively books on how you should think or act in society in order to make money. Which isn't bad, just frustrating.

There are numerous people who can get by or even get rich by doing what they love doing. Filthy rich even. Perhaps one can only get rich by doing what he loves. Every book I've read seems to support this ideal. Making sure you don;t fall out of love is the real challenge perhaps. I love writing, and I love doing up ads with a partner, the latter is hard because finding a partner is hard. Doing ads alone is not just hard-work. It's downright torture for me. Writing is relatively easy. Good writing is another story, But I haven't fallen out of love with it just yet.

Just as a writer needs an editor, a copywriter needs an art director. Good editors are hard to find, and so are good art directors. I hope I find one soon.

Opportunity is just as important as hard work.

Putting in hours in equally as important.

Bananas are yellow and they taste nice.

Pyramids are pyramids in shape.

Dinosaurs are majestic and sad.

Maybe the whole point of life is to drive you insane and your job is to fight it.