There will now be a brief hiatus

Time to pack my bags and abandon this wet and windy island. Well, thats what I thought I'd be doing when I booked a holiday in Madeira, but no. Since discovering that I'm leaving Britain has decided to recreate some kind of arcadian springtime. Oxford is looking truly lovely, the sun has been shining for days and I just hope that Madeira is as nice as this.

I'm logging off. See you in a week or so.

One to read

I made the mistake of picking up the Sunday papers today and found in the Times one of the most harrowing reports yet of what is going on in Iraq. A while ago I wrote that jumpy US marines might kill civilians, and was soundly told that it wouldn't happen, that the war was about liberating Iraq, not killing civilians. Sadly war is hell, and intentions are quickly forgotten and soldiers do things they would not have thought themselves capable of for reasons no one will ever be able to explain.

From the Sunday Times US Marines turn fire on civilians at the bridge of death Registration required to read this.

Lets hope we're closer to victory when I get back from Holiday. Now we've started I believe we have to win, but I wish we hadn't started.

Must be my birthday

At least, I can't think of what else I did to deserve champagne breakfast, smoked salmon, cream cheese, bagels, strawberries and cream. So far twenty seven is a good age to be.

Going back to Brandsville

I don't remember leaving Brandsville anymore than I remember the first time I arrived. I suppose I wandered in slowly through the outskirts and the suburbs. Soaking up the scenery until one day I was surrounded by the skyscrapers and it seemed as natural as the green fields where I'd started out. Years of thinking about, working with and commenting on brands had brought me to a place where although I saw them everywhere it never struck me as odd. In store displays were loaded with meaning about product strength, positioning and the latest trends in graphic design. Phone companies banks, cosmetics, cars, whatever. I saw them all. Always.

Then I left. Packed up my bags, went to business school and forgot about the meanings in the marques and the hidden messages in logotype and straplines. Leaving was a lot like arriving, I sauntered out, barely noticing the transition. I'd given up my citizenship of Brandsville and become a consumer again. If the world was emptier I didn't notice.

Last Thursday I had a meeting in London, and since its a long way on the bus I packed a book from next terms reading lists. 'The New Guide to Identity' by Wolff Olins. I read it, the bus rumbled on and at somepoint it arrived in London. Along the way I'd revised logos, identities, image and projection. I'd been reminded that everything from the lines of a BMW to the smile of a receptionist are there to be loaded with meaning, then aimed at the passers by and the interested with a delivery mechanism so stealthy they'll never even know they've been hit.

When I looked out of the window I realised I'd taken an express train straight to the heart of Brandsville. From the Golden Arches, to the Virgin V and the home brewed efforts of the Feng Sushi diner the world was alive and buzzing with messages and signs and meaning. The words of some new prophet flyposted on a subway wall.

Brandsville. It's been a while.