The latest instalment of 60 Watt’s Austerity campaign.
I’m very fond of this execution. But…it reminds me of my childhood.
Toiling in my father’s allotment for what? I’ll tell you for what! Broccoli.
Twenty frigging tons a year of broccoli.
I hated broccoli; it gave me the frickin’ boak. We had broccoli stew, broccoli pasta, broccoli salad, boiled broccoli, roasted broccoli, summer broccoli, winter broccoli, spring broccoli, purple sprouting broccoli. We even had Cubby bloody Broccoli.
We had broccoli salad, broccoli soup (that was OK I suppose), broccoli and eggs, broccoli and broccoli, raw broccoli, microwaved broccoli, broccoli tart, broccoli ice cream (actually I made that one up) and last but not least, leftover broccoli.
I’m really happy with this new campaign we’ve been working on at 60 Watt. It appears as full pages in The Scotsman and it really taps into the current zeitgeist (a good German word for a war inspired ad). We call it the “austerity campaign”. Hope you like them. Let me know what you think.
It’s really quite an extraordinary phenomenon this. Abject fiscal failure has placed Gordon Brown not in the political knacker’s yard but has driven something approaching the greatest comeback since Lazarus. And, unless you failed to register my paradox, I’ll repeat it.
It is failure that has been the catalyst for his success.
Any government that can double the national debt in six months to the highest level since 1946 when, let’s face it, we had a nation to rebuild, literally, and GROW their share of the popular vote must have some form of godlike genius about it. Some form of shamen on the frontline. A Ronaldo in attack.
Is this the Labour government you know?
Nope.
Or, is this a government in free fall, facing the weakest opposition in political history.
Yes.
Yes.
And thrice, yes.
That is exactly what we are talking about here.
Come on folks, could you honestly imagine an announcement at the Whitehouse press conference welcoming the Prime Minister of England (sorry Great Britain), as Mr David Cameron and not imagine, off camera, a bunch of snickering aids texting each other saying. “Who is he exactly? Is he, like, important?”
Gobstoppersooker, or whatever it is he does in that oral cavity, at least has the presence of ‘Brownism’. His shock haired apprentice must think “Poor old Davy C, if the poor sap ever gets in I know how he’ll feel.”
Salmond preens. Aloof. Concocting his latest ascerbism.
It is indeed rich political times in which we live.