Things That Incite Thoughts of a Suicidal Nature

I’m launching a new segment called Things That Incite Thoughts of a Suicidal Nature. In other words, stuff that annoys me. My moderator read this post and advised changing it to Further Evidence Adrian Is Turning Into A Prick. I have elected to ignore this advice and stick with the former, because I am NOT turning into a prick, I have always been one.

I get suicidal tendencies when: I hear voices. Not the ones in my head, Dr Varney is helping me with those and says I’m improving each week. This point is more to do with certain people’s voices, like those at work. Like the guy who always speaks as though he’s talking to a little child, probably because he has small children, so it’s just rubbed of permanently, like an accent. Sometimes it borders on sounding retarded.

Another who is always on the phone and will always say, without fail, ‘Hellooo, you alright?’ in a painfully cheerful tone. Painfully cheerful. It sounds fine just once, or 10 times even, but try hearing the same expression, in the same ridiculous tone, 80. Fucking. Times. A. Day. In a really loud and intrusive way. Over and over and over. He never seems to go for lunch, he’s the first in the office, and the last to leave. Once he said ‘How the devil are you?’ in the same tone, then he went back to ‘Hellooo, you alright?’ His, is a truly ridiculous voice, nice guy though.

A disliked member of staff who is constantly muttering and mumbling vitriol about other staff members… You got it, me. Next.

Having your work bastardised. It’s not always bad though, once there was a request to change the spatial relationship between the word ‘Magnificent’ and an image on a design I was doing. The result? It looked kinda like ‘Magnificunt’. Sweet justice.

Just on that, maybe we have a new word here, for someone who is capable of great things, whether artistic or otherwise, but is a bit of a c*** in person. Think the guy who played Kramer, Michael Richards, or a lot of talented Graphic Designers, they’re Magnific*nt. Maybe I’m Magnific*nt? No, I’m just a c***. Ok, enough obscenities, next point.

I hate it when I masturbate and… HEY! Keep it clean, none of that smut on here. Ok voice inside head, sorry.

I get suicidal tendencies when: people with toxic breath speak at close range. I read somewhere that someone had designed a product to combat this: a handy pocket-sized fire hydrant with maximum strength. The technique is to say, ‘Hold on a minute, what’s that in your mouth? Open it for a sec…’ then blast the shit (literally) outta there. Sweet justice.

I get suicidal tendencies when: I get the dream spot on the train, and I have to give it up to a bloody pregnant woman (not literally bloody, as in, she’s in labour, bloody, as in British slang). See, I’m Magnific*nt.
No, you’re just a c***.
Be quiet, you’re not real.
Prove it.
Go away.
I can’t go away, I’m you.
You’re not me, I’m me.
You are me. We are together. We are in love.
Oh no, Its happening again. Dr varney?

The abbreviation LOL. I don’t know why, it just rubs me up the wrong way. Like when I masturbate, and… ‘HEY! That’s 2 strikes, one more and you’re out.’

When straight men write emails to straight men and leave a kiss at the end. Not allowed. If you’re gay, by all means fire away with as many kisses as you like, if not, then just stop being a wanker. Note, when I do it at the end of posts, I do so ironically. I do almost everything ironically now, it’s hard to tell the difference anymore. When I meet new people I don’t know how to act. I don’t know who I am. You’re great Adrian, don’t forget that. Thanks Adrian, let’s never fight again. Lights out.

Thanks everyone xxx

Please vote, do you think this post is:
a) Clever, witty, insightful, definitely one of the better posts!
b) Nasty, crude, vulgar and frankly unnecessary. Stuff & Shit? No thanks!
c) Further Evidence Adrian is turning into a prick
d) Further evidence Adrian is judging you at all times
e) Further evidence Adrian put the c*** in Magnifi.

I vote for a, b, c, d and e.

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A Comment On Society

Recently while chatting over a coffee and lunch in a quaint little Clapham cafe, the comment was put to me ‘You are ranting a lot, are you drunk?’ ‘No, I’m not drunk, I just think society is fucked. It’s all a load of shit. The politics, the lies, the hypocrisies. It’s all a game. Most of it isn’t even real’. ‘Um, how so?’ ‘Well, ah…. often, it’s not what is right and what is wrong, but who can explain it better. I’m not talking about law, I’m talking about the everyday, the fine art of bullshit. In the heat of the moment, the person with the best argument wins, not the person who is right, or at least sincere. So you don’t need to learn how to develop a healthy and honest perspective in life, you just need to learn how to deliver a winning argument. Don’t search for what is right or what is real, search for what is the right argument, for that which will allow the retention face. Don’t pay too much attention to what you say, just say it confidently. The most important thing is to look like you know what you’re talking about. Fuck sincerity. Fuck depth. Just learn the value of rhetoric. When style and substance do battle, style will often win, so develop your style, not your substance. To be successful, one must project an image of success. Otherwise known as bullshit, acting or wank. Embrace it and society will embrace you. Failing that, just be submissive. Lie down and preserve your strength for the off chance that something real will come along’.

‘Are you done?’

‘No damn you! Listen to what I am saying! It’s all a game. To succeed by societies standards you are expected to play the game too. To embrace its rules, its lies. None of it is real. You think this is real (pointing to surrounds)?! That’s real (pointing to 3 legged dog). The people in this game, they’re false. It’s all a façade. A game of chess. It’s all tactics and formations, a press conference. Just work out how you wish to be perceived, not who you really are, and run with that. Most people won’t know the difference’.

‘Ok, I think I get it. So you’re saying if I want to succeed in the society you speak of, I need to find the guise that will allow me to do so’. ‘Yeah, something like that. But never forget that society is… is, um, what was I saying? Shit, now I’m confused. Society… Ah fuck it’.

‘Oh yeah, society…. you wanna know what I think of society? DO YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I THINK OF SOCIETY?! Here’s what I think of society (that’s when I picked up the plate of food and smashed it against the wall). That’s what I think of society! Fuck Society!’

In a matter of seconds, three security guards rushed to the area and forcefully ejected me from the café, my verbal tirade against society continuing as I was dragged into a black van and hastily driven away. At the time I wondered why there were so many security guards at such a quaint little cafe. Then I realised they must have been tipped off that a maverick was in the area. I know too much. They are trying to silence me.

Anyway, I am now taking a stand. To symbolise my unwillingness to conform I am going to stop getting haircuts and I am growing a beard. I am well aware that the stand I am taking is really not that much of a stand at all. Kinda like joining a Facebook group to support a cause… you’re not actually doing anything, meaning you’re not really supporting the cause, but you ‘support’ the cause anyway. That’s what I’m doing. I’m taking a stand. I wish to be removed from society and all its lies, hypocrisies and superficialities, and this beard will help me do it. Sometimes I wonder why I am so hardcore, then I remember I was just born that way.

If I could just say one last thing before I go… remember kids, keep it real. And Rock on. Shit, that was two things. Oh well.

Posted in Rant Post Comment

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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