Spooner on… who wins when GenAI takes on Spooner?
“Spooner! You worthless slubberdegudgeon!” I hear the words but whence do they emanate? “Spoooner! You pretentious popinjay! I need another column…
“Spooner! You worthless slubberdegudgeon!” I hear the words but whence do they emanate? “Spoooner! You pretentious popinjay! I need another column…
This week’s St Valentine’s Day was, alas, another day that, as ever, cruelly and truthfully reinforced my endless solitude. Eheu!…
A silence as deep as the Mariana Trench has fallen over the lofty, snow-capped towers, battlements, crenelations and machicolations of…
Having already written fifty (50!) columns for Lord McKelvey’s prestigious and monumental organ, Decision Marketing, the premier source of news…
Pocketa-queep! Pocketa-queep! Pocketa-queep! Pocketa-queep! (Sound effects with thanks and respect to the immortal James Thurber.) What on Earth can this…
The wind screeches along glamorous, crack-dealer haunted, downtown Blank Street BN1, stirring the skittering skeins of tangled paper and plastic,…
Life is cruel, relentless and bitter. Despite our many privileges, we suffer according to our stations. I am cold. Lord…
AN APOLOGY: My last column, number 46, Spooner on…creatives at risk of burnout, my arse!, was generally well-received, garnering dozens…
“Wake-up call as burnt-out creatives threaten exodus” trumpets the headline to an illuminating, recent article in Decision Marketing – the…
Secure as he is, luxuriating in his Western fastnesses among the water meads and vineyards and lily-ponds, sheltered by the…
No time today for the now-traditional introductory remarks about the miseries of my life in servitude to that charismatic brute,…
Imagine my delight when I was invited by the jovial, debonair Lord McKelvey to ‘sit in the servants’ kitchen and…
A terrible scrabbling and clattering woke me at first light this morning. Throwing back the ragged, moth- and rat-eaten curtains…
I am worried about Lord McKelvey. Whilst draining the moat of the smaller Bavarian Castle Folly at his vast Sussex…
Waitrose & John Lewis & Partners, Adam & Eve/DDB I have a lot of sympathy for Waitrose and John Lewis…
Well, well, well. As I write this, my 39th column for Lord McKelvey’s proud and prestigious organ, we find that…
My tiny, rented hovel in the filthy heart of Brighton is on a street that can only be, at best,…
Hello fellow prisoners! How are we all getting along? Gone quite mad yet? Lord McKelvey, of course, has the run…
“But what does it mean, the plague? It’s life, that’s all” – Albert Camus, The Plague. So, the omni-benevolent, balti-fed,…
It is that time of year again. A heavy, all but palpable, sense of doom hangs over the neatly appointed…
Polymath, world-renowned chicken-breeder, lacrosse-captain, Gaelic-dancer, Lord McKelvey is many things, but one thing he is not is patient: “Spooner, you…
“Bangtails! BANGTAILS! The Johnson Box! THE JOHNSON BOX!!! Self-mailers! Call-to-action! CTA! CTA! Coupon! Coupon! Coupon! It’s the ******* cash-register! Make…
“Hither cur!” The familiar words bring me instantly to heel, quivering with anticipation, at the side of Lord Charlie McKelvey,…
Scurvy. That’s what 2019 probably has in store for us. SCURVY. Given that most of the UK’s fresh fruit and…
Ah! Xmas! The filthy, numbed, cracked and swollen fingers from harvesting hundreds of thousands of sprouts in the frosty fields…
“Change has never in history happened as fast as it is happening today; and it will never happen this slowly…
It is with great trepidation, a fluttering heart and trembling knees that I mount the huge curving staircase that leads…
Onward I trudge this bitter morning, knee-deep in the thick snow, stumbling, flailing, striving onward onward towards the cruelly-early-morning locomotive…
The rain is lashing against the windows like a punishment here at Montpelier Heights, the classy, new, cosmopolitan nerve-centre of…
#TotesOMG!!! In a radical departure that has caused consternation within the vast, echoing halls and galleries of the exquisite Palladian…
Merry Xmas to all my readers…Those of you who have had the social misfortune to have worked with me during…
So the fabulous, shiny, new Signal agency (in which I am a small yet not entirely insignificant cog) has moved…
Happy Xmas from <insert brand name here>! Is that the faint aroma of rotting pumpkin? Is that the haunting-yet-slightly-nauseating trilling…
Ineluctable: unable to be resisted or avoided, from the Latin ineluctabilis; ‘in’ as in ‘not’ and eluctari, to ‘struggle out’…
There is no finer source of information, opinion and, indeed, salacious gossip, than this, Charlie McKelvey’s enormously vivacious online organ,…
It is only in the past few days that Lord McKelvey Of That Ilk, editor of this classy, online organ…
Good lord! There is a tremendous schemozzle around ‘content’ these days isn’t there?! Every industry publication is crammed full with…
I am writing my latest, irregular column on the train between Tangible’s eccentric and characterful London HQ and our sleek, modern…
Dark and bitter times for the Celtic Fringe where, despite my ‘hairstyle’ (see above), I feel that I belong –…
THIS WHOLE GHASTLY PERMISSIONS THING WON’T GO AWAY SO WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT? EH? Now you…
‘THE PRIVATE LIFE OF MAIL’ (IMAGINE IT VOICED IN A WHISPER BY DAVID ATTENBOROUGH CROUCHED IN A BUSH IF YOU…
Sir John Hegarty appears to think that data is not the answer. Now, what was the question? Imagine the devastating…
Tangible’s chief executive (the dynamic, fragrant, polyglot, Karen Trickett) and I often find ourselves politely disagreeing about political matters and…
As I write this irregular column for that incomparable genius loci of the marketing world, Charlie McKelvey, I am gazing…
As many of you will realise, I’m sure, rebrand projects require positively South American levels of enthusiasm, combined with meticulous…
I’ve had enough of living in terror of editor Charlie McKelvey and his chickens and am now using the virtual…
Lord Charlie McKelvey (of That Ilk) appears to be retreating further and further away into the remote, digital fastnesses of…
“A degree is now going to cost at least £27,000. Do you really need one to be a creative?” These…
Dawn barely touches the Sussex sky, somewhere an owl hoots mournfully, the battlements of Lord McKelvey’s enormous pile rear up…
Special dispensation from Lord McKelvey of That Ilk saw me spared a long night with the Fighting Kazakhstani Cocks and…