The Champagne Socialist

Definition here, but basically it’s the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do-ideology-tailored-to-fit-the-image-conscious type of person. Examples:

I am anti corporation. Anti the mode of capitalism that profits from cheap labour in the third world. It’s just plain wrong!

The champagne socialist is against big corporations, that is, until it has the opportunity to enjoy in the spoils themselves. ‘Although I’m anti Nike and its amoral, inhumane business model, these Nike sneakers and tee complement my 80’s attire. Nike is cool now, because it brought back its old logo and slightly re-branded itself, so it’s kinda vintage, it has street cred, and it has design cred. Plus, how can our agency knock them back as a client when they pay so well, it would be to the detriment of myself and my career. Double plus, the logo on our client list gives us big brand credibility. But I’m anti corporation, and I’ll attend an exhibition that preaches as such (sponsored by Nike, in conjunction with Apple)’.

When Nike moves beyond sport and becomes ironically cool and iconic to champagne left wing designers and starts sponsoring their creative endeavours, it presents a conflict of interest to the champagne socialist. Fuck it, ju$t do it.

I’m an environmentalist. I am green. Save the Planet!

I once shared a flat with a person who had a poster on their wall stating ‘Maybe it’s coz I’m Green!’ Basically, they were a friend of the planet and they wanted everyone in the planet to know. But when it came to putting recyclable objects into the recycle bin, they kinda forgot that they were green. They also forgot when it came to turning lights off. I think what the poster meant was, ‘Maybe it’s coz I want to be seen to be Green, because it’s cool, but really I’m just another shade of grey’. Less catchy and a little less cool.

I am anti American

I lived with a guy (I lived with alotta people) who was vocal about being staunchly anti-American. Underline the vocal part. He took every opportunity to voice his disgust with them, not just the government, the whole shebang. Even the mere sound of the accent supposedly wound him up. He would say this before sitting down to another episode of The Simpsons, before watching American History X and reading another book by another American writer. ‘Oh yes, I’m anti-American, except for when it comes to my own interests. No, I’m anti the.. wait, is it cool to be anti-American? What’s the latest with that? Obama’s in now, so is it uncool to be cool, which one is Bush? That Hope poster was cool, I used it as my profile pic, am I cool? Who’s cool? Shit it’s hot in here, next question’.

‘I’m a creative, it’s all about the idea…

…I’m an ideas person. I’m all about ideas, not vanity, ideas. I’m a creative. I can’t do it if there’s no idea to it. Hear me now, ideas!’

Um, nothing you do is based on ideas. It’s based on taking someone else’s idea and reappropriating it to fit your own brief. Or going to Getty and iStock, moving some pictures around, colour, overlay, multiply and slapping some type on it and claiming it as your own design. It is a formula and it is streamlined. There’s nothing wrong with that, do what you need to do, but just kill the act.

Oh, but I can’t do it if there’s no idea. It’s about the idea. Oh, ideas and creativity!

See that there, that bit of creative design you just did. I saw your reference in a design book. You ripped it off. You didn’t base it on that, you copied it and just changed the words. So yes, there is an idea there, but it’s not yours. Actually, it isn’t even an idea; it’s an arrangement of objects and a hue. Do you even know what an idea is? Stop preaching about being an idea revolutionary, and accept your status as an idea reappropriator, not a creative.

I dislike the whole concept of marketing, spinning shit to sell shit to people who already have enough shit. I cant bare to watch or listen to an ad for longer than half a second. I look around and (apply muzzle now).

Oh yeah, that one is me. I claim the above, yet I work in marketing, and have done a lot of work in ad agencies. Not a lot, my whole career has been in advertising. I look at my folio, and it’s all advertising. I look in the mirror and I see a catchy strap line with exclamation marks shouting YOU ARE A FUCKWIT!! DON’T MISS OUT! FUCK OFF! I’m a champagne marketing critic.

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The comedic genious, sorry… genius, strikes again

At school they would call me the little maverick, because I couldn’t be tamed. Now they just call me the little fuckwit. Anyway, in true irreverent Banksy, ‘fuck the system’ style, I brazenly defaced this sign at work last week, photographed it, and posted it onto my blog. My balls are bigger than yours.

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Guys at the Gym are wankers

In my Top 25, Act 2, number 11, I asked the following question:

“What is with the guy’s in gym change rooms who have no intention of putting their clothes back on… waltz around, put the leg up, have a shave, crouch down, have a chat… ah, put your effing gear back on, then crouch. Strict limit on the number of bollocks I wish to see in a day”.

That was a good one. Out of the locker room and into the weights area, there is one guy who kills me. He barely works out and spends most of his time checking himself out in the mirror. I’m not talking the occasional glance, I’m talking a proper stare, legs apart, head tilted, eyeing himself off… for minutes at a time. He then approaches the mirror, gets face to face with himself, has a staring contest and turns away.

Meanwhile, much like cleavage, I’m trying to ignore it, but ultimately can’t. But unlike cleavage, I’m thinking ‘you arsehole, you absolute arsehole. What sort of wanker does this. Seriously! WHO?!’

Multiple choice time: what sort of wanker does this?

a) a wanker
b) a wanker
c) a nutter who thinks the mirrored wall is actually another room and wonders why there is some surly, stocky shit continually eying him off. He sees the arsehole looking, so he turns back, approaches him and gets face to face thinking, what the f*** you looking at, bitch! He doesn’t flinch so he turns away. He walks to his weights, looks back and sees he’s still greasing him off. He thinks ‘what is this f***face’s problem’, approaches the mirror for another stand off. Again, no-one flinches so he walks back to his weights, glances back and he’s STILL looking etc etc etc. This continues until the gym closes and staff come out to say ‘cmon guys, let’s take it outside’. Looking at the mirror he says ‘But this f***wit keeps staring at me!’ Who you calling f***wit arsehole. Arsehole?! who the f*** do you think you are. F*** you. no, f*** YOU! NO, F*** YOU!!!” This continues until 5 personal trainers carry him out in a blind fold and muzzle, yelling and screaming at himself.

The answer? Yep, all of the above (plus arsehole and self obsessed troll).

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