The big idea

8 Mar

I know what you're thinking. 'Ha! A light bulb? What a cliche!' But how can it be a cliche when I'm using it? It can't! Why? Because I'm one step ahead of all you fuckers - and I say light bulbs are back. So go bang yourself. With a brick.

Advertising agencies – yeah, those fuckers – seem to have this thing about ‘big ideas’. They’re all about the big idea. Big ideas, they tell me over the course of 224 agonising slides, are the future. If you’ve got an idea that isn’t big, well, take it out into the car park, beat it without mercy or a moment’s guilt about the face and neck, then wrap it’s head in cling film and chuck it down a fucking well. Small ideas? Small ideas deserve to be treated with genocidal contempt.

Which is all well and good, but then you see what they actually mean by ‘a big idea’.

The ‘big’ bit of a ‘big idea’ doesn’t actually mean that the idea itself is big. Like E=MC2 is big. Or ‘I think therefore I am’ is big. Or Pot Noodles is big (massive, actually). No, no – that’s no what they mean.

What they mean is the idea they’ve had is so bland they can make it fit into any size of ad, on the telly, in radio, online and as an annoying piece of bin-fodder that falls out of the magazine you’d taken into the bogs to have a nice jostle over.

(Actually – funny story. I once nipped to the executive washroom for a quick fumble over the latest copy of whatever lads mag was winning the porn race at that stage. I dropped the trousers and moved the undercrackers to mid-calf, parked myself on the lav and tore open the litte plastic sac the mag came in. Obviously, there was a snowstorm of junk, vouchers and BOGOF pamphlets – and one of the items (I can’t be sure which) caught me with it’s sharply-folded corner right on the bell-portion. Well, you know how nasty paper cuts can be. This was a doozy! Blood everywhere. I probably shouldn’t have gone ahead with the wank, really. But I did. And the cubicle looked like a slaughterhouse at the end of it. (Well, a slaughterhouse someone had been wanking in.) Told you it was a funny story!)

Where was I?

Yes – the ‘big idea’. I was once taken through a presentation of…oooh….over 4,000 slides that lead to what they described as ‘a genuinely BIG idea’. When we got there, I was shown a little cartoon dog (called ‘Squoochie’ – still don’t know why) and then several dozen pieces of differently-sized creative with the dog in various whimsical poses saying things like ‘Squoochie loves clean’ and ‘Squoochie needs soft’ and ‘Squoochie wants gentle’.

Squoochie, obviously, would have his own Facebook page and Twitter feed and every  woman in the Western world would sign up to interact with my brand through a series of heartwarming conversations.

Another time, I was shown a big idea that consisted of the words ‘You are dirty’ rendered in ‘knowingly naive typography’, then placed on literally every type of media ever devised. They even showed it to me plastered on a baby. A BABY. Bambinovertising, they called it. ‘We just want to show you how big this idea is,’ they said. (Actually, bambinovertising is brilliant. I tried using it for a Durex campaign once. The babies would have the words ‘Or you could have had a new car’ stencilled on them, just above the Durex logo – right on their foreheads. Did anyone offer their babies for it? No. I just do NOT understand people sometimes.)

Anyway, let me tell you what the biggest idea in advertising is: bristolas. Nobody has ever come up with a more flexible, more powerful or more broadly appealing idea than the female nork. And that’s the end of the story. If you think I’m wrong, you can take your big idea and wham it sidewards up your fudge-tube until it pokes out of your ears.

I am Dave Knockles! And I’M a fucking big idea!

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4 Responses to “The big idea”

  1. David Everitt-Carlson March 8, 2011 at 2:35 pm #

    FuckWadsRus. Dat’s you big D. The last time you had a big idea wuz when you wuz marketing director at that feminine hygene company and your big promotion wuz dat men cud wear dem on der heads – backwards. Fuck me Dave. I don’t think even if we shoved that light bulb up yer ass, broken and wired, that you could think of Jack Shit – except how to get that burning fucking hot 220v filament outa yer butt.

    So stop talking down to the masses Davie-boy. The only reason you make the big bucks is that you’re the only cunt who truly admits that he’s a dimwitted, numb-fucked proximinally abandoned cunt twat.

  2. @NickPound March 8, 2011 at 4:11 pm #

    Fuck me. Literally? However, back to the blog – fucking funny bit about the slaughter house mate – I was indeed laughing a lot.

  3. tom March 9, 2011 at 9:59 am #

    Another welcome return to form. More please.

  4. Richard Quindry (@HughCares) August 28, 2011 at 2:02 pm #

    Dave, Thanks for the invite, but I have dozens of “BIG IDEAS” crammed up my fudge-tube already. I just need a few ideas to keep me BLOG fresh and amusing. Thanks for the inspiration. Hugh loves ya, Baby!

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