Wednesday 12 April 2006

Assignment: Inspired by PostSecret


I smile and Nod...

...a short story inspired by
PostSecret

(click here to download a printable version)

I smile and nod…but I’m not usually interested in what you’re saying. It may look like it, but I’ve done this so many times before that I know the way the conversation will go. As long as I smile and nod in the correct order then I don’t have to commit any important part of my brain to your miserable little life.

Many people consider this to be a stressful job and wonder how I can ever manage it; but for me it is easy, even almost enjoyable. It is like meditating all day; you become supremely calm at the end of it. I let my brain sleep during the day so that I can think about the important things at night.

Not that life and death isn’t important; but I believe that it is a waste of time being miserable when you’re young just so that you can lead a long and miserable life being old. The families of these poor sods clearly realise this as they dump their so-called beloved parents in this shit hole at the earliest available opportunity.

I don't mind my job, it's not that bad really. I’m very lucky somehow because all the old guys and dears like talking to me so much that it’s usually someone else who has to do the dirty jobs – I’m talking about the toilet here. But even when I have to do it then I’m not particularly bothered. I just put on some latex gloves and do what has to be done.

For most people it would take a lot of money for them to help a demented 80-year-old man go to the toilet. But it doesn’t bother me and neither does the fact that I don’t get paid a lot of money to do it. The basic wage is pretty poor really, and there is a high turnover of staff. People come and go, faces pass by everyday, but like I said I don’t really take any notice of what is going on during the day. It is just a front, a means to an end for my nocturnal activities. For wherever there is a lot of old people then there is always a shit load of drugs.

I’m talking painkillers specifically- Vicodin, Methadone, Codiene and Morphine. What would I want a large quantity of painkillers for? Well to sell: not to users but to dealers. I’m a reliable supplier and in return I get paid – not only in money but in protection, which is invaluable for what I have got planned. Because if it all works out, then I’m going to be pissing off a lot of important people - big time.

So what does drug money pay for? I can’t tell you yet, this is totally top secret. For if anyone found out what I’ve got planned then I would be locked up instantly. But that doesn’t matter for now as another day is nearly over. The end to my charade life and the beginning of my real one.

The security in here is so lax; no wonder I get away with stealing so many drugs. The main doors aren’t even locked on the inside and anyone could just walk out.

“Mr Johnston”

Fuck, it’s Debbie, or Dawn, I don’t take any notice of names. But whatever her name is I’m sure she’s on to me, she always looks at me as if she knows what I’m really up to. I turn round to face her, and give her the vacant look that through time I’ve worked to perfection. She sighs and says:

“You know that you’re not allowed outside without any supervision. And I’m sorry but we haven’t got enough staff at the moment. Come on, I’ll take you back to the day room. And what’s this about you stealing medicine from the drugs trolley? Kim said that she found a load of tablets underneath your bed. You know that you can’t just go round helping yourself. She wanted to report it but I said that you’re such a nice old man, you never hurt anyone, hardly say a word. Just sit there in your chair all day. I often wonder what you’re thinking about… Come on, I’ll take you back”.

I smile and nod.


Saturday 8 April 2006

British Banks Show Their True Colours

The Office of Fair Trading has recently declared that the practice of banks and credit card companies charging extortionate late payment and overdraft fees as 'illegal' and ruled that the banks must cap their future charges at £12.

But whilst this may seem like a victory for the consumer it may not be, as banks are likely to compensate for the loss of profits by charging customers in other ways.


Credit cards: They own you


Last Thursday (06/04/06), the Office of Fair Trading (O.F.T.) declared that the practice of British banks and credit card companies charging large late-payment and overdraft fees as 'illegal'.

The report came after campaigning from pressure groups, including the consumer association Which? to drop the excessive charges.

Typical charges are around £20, but the O.F.T. has stated that in the future all banks must comply to a maximum fine of £12, so that the fee only reflects the real cost to the bank in administration costs.

The banks have until May 31st to respond to the O.F.T's statement, and they may face penalties if they do not implement the capped fines.

However, many industry experts believe that banks may introduce other charges, such as membership fees, in order to make up in the loss of profits that capped fines would bring, and some insiders have warned that this may lead to the end of free banking.

What is so shocking about this is that these further charges are even a possibility.

Yes, banks will face a loss in profits, as charges account for as much as 5% of income of the major banks.

But in an industry that is recording record profits, surely it is only right to charge customers openly and fairly.

Hopefully at least one major bank will make the bold decision to not introduce other charges as this is likely to lead to other banks following or finding that their customers will be switching their accounts.

Thursday 6 April 2006

Stupid Corporate Names

How the privatisation of British industries has led to a surge of companies with pointless names, who make promises that are as empty as their own titles.

Two words: British Rail. It’s pretty obvious what that stands for. Even for someone with the briefest command of the English language, it wouldn’t take them long to work it out.

What then, does One or First Capital Connect stand for? Not so obvious; perhaps a bank or some other kind of financial service? Well, One and First Capital Connect are actually the train companies that this writer regularly uses.

First Capital Connect: A bank account or a railway company?


I say I “use them”, but I’m sure that they would say that I “facilitate their services” or something as equally pretentious or pointless as that. Indeed, witness these gems from the First Capital Connect website:


  • ‘…a new company bringing fresh ideas and a determination to improve your journey experience’

  • ‘we see the new franchise as an opportunity to develop real, tangible benefits for customers across the board’

  • ‘…deliver the levels of customer service that will transform your journey experience’


Not only are they promising to ‘improve my journey experience’ they say that they will ‘transform it’ too. And as for the ‘real, tangible benefits’, what exactly are they? Let’s get to grips with reality: You are a TRAIN company. That’s it, nothing else. So please, drop the flowery language.

Now, and I believe I’m speaking for most commuters here, the only things that people want from a train company is for it to provide regular services that are on time, preferably not overcrowded and hopefully at a reasonable price.

None of these issues were mentioned on First Capital Connect’s website or in any of their promotional material. So it is just another case of a company making promises that are as empty as their name sounds.

Although the name First Capital Connect may sound like a type of bank account, you do have to give them some credit as at least their title is composed of words found in the Oxford English Dictionary.

So we now turn to those companies who have spent millions on corporate re-banding, only to see their established names transform into a mixture of Greek and Latin gobbledegook. For example, The Post Office became Consignia and British Steel became Corus. Of these it was the name change to Consignia that was the biggest disaster.

Back in 2001, in an attempt to cure The Post Office’s ailing woes, their new boss decided on a name change in an attempt to loose the supposed stigma of lazy, militant postmen that was apparently responsible for the company’s decline.

At a reported cost of £2 million the name Consignia was born; the name originating from the Latin word “to consign”. Within two years, the name was dropped, the company reverting to a much more sensible Royal Mail Group Plc. The only thing that it was “consigned” to was the bin, the name spectacularly backfiring on its creators and becoming synonymous with the company’s woes.

Consignia: Consigned to the rubbish bin


Names such as Consignia originate when marketing people decide that by taking words from the Greek and Latin languages and combining them, they will create a name that is dynamic and cutting edge. These are the sort of ideas that come from people who are brought up in a business world where pretentious promotional writing is the ruling language.

Publicity people, press officers, spin doctors, whatever you want to call them; their job is to disguise the truth. Think about it: when was the last time you saw an advertisement from a major corporation that made real statement about, for example, their trains running on time? You don’t. Instead you get empty promises about things like ‘real tangible benefits across the board’.

The scary thing is that these people are in control of the thousands of advertisements that we see every day. They have a lot of power over our lives and affect us all even if we are not conscious of it. But it is time to fight back: next time you see such an advertisement, do not be fooled by it. Instead realise that its promises are as empty as the stupid name of the company that paid for it.

Tuesday 4 April 2006

From Hero to Whore

When I was nine, this man
was my hero...














...Fifteen years later,

I think he is a corporate whore

Saturday 1 April 2006

The Joy Of The New

Discovering a new band: It is surely one of the greatest joys there is in life.

Now I use the words 'discovering' and 'new' tentatively, because firstly it is unlikely that no-one has not heard of the band before and secondly that the band does not have to be new. Simply, it is the process of falling in love with a band that you never really considered before.

For example, about four years ago this writer was aware of a band called The Doors. Old group, Light My Fire, not interested, I thought. That was until I listened to their best of and in particular the live version of Roadhouse Blues. As soon as I heard Jim Morrison screaming the infamous lyrics: "I woke up this morning and got myself a beer, the future's uncertain and the end is always near", I instantly understood everything.

And that is the secret to why we fall in love with certain bands: Because somehow, their music, their lyrics, their artwork, their image, everything - it all adds up to the perfect explanation of how we feel at a certain point in time. That time is right now. And nothing can better articulate how we feel than a band that we love.

The Doors: So far ahead of their time that they're still cool.

Fast forward to the present and The Zutons with Tired of Hanging Around. Now, I quite liked You Will You Won't, the big single from their debut album Who Killed The Zutons, but I didn't really give them much thought other than that. However, when I heard their new single Why Won't You Give Me Your Love, something clicked inside of me. Principally the part of my brain where pleasure and excitement lives. I was excited, I knew that this was a band of rare quality and who promised much more.

The first listen of ...Hanging Around didn't disappoint. Everything in the title track confirmed what I'd already thought: That I had found a new musical love. Witness their lyrics: "These should be the best years of your life, but you worry all the goodness away". Yes, that is me. The perfect marriage of rolling drumbeats, sonic guitars and heartfelt lyrics, resulting in joy, pure joy!

The Zutons: Cheer up, we love you!

As per normal, I seem to have fallen upon a new love a bit too late, as their gig at The Junction has sold out (a similar thing happened with The Mighty Boosh). However, thank fuck for the modern miracle/car boot sale that is eBay.

How does it feel? It feels fucking great thanks, Zutons.

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