4 Fuks Saké

My 16 month son gets it. He walks around the house turning all the electricity off at the mains. By the time he gets to my age he'll be asking why I never followed his lead. Time to get busy.

Save Time & Money.

Here's an opportunity to give yourself a break filling your "packed" schedule of procrastination at conferences and seminars. Just watch this, and then go and do some real client work in social media for 6 months. It's all you need. They'll be another one in the spring.

The Prince's Rainforests Project

In the next 24 hours, deforestation will release as much CO2 into the atmosphere as 8 million people flying from London to New York. On that basis, add your signature and ask influential people to do something about it.

Then, return to 4 Fuks Saké and we'll stick to lighter matters.

The Swayze And Wenger Legacies

We now have confirmation courtesy of yesterday's 'Swayze Dead' Twitter trending, that your Mum & Dad will be on Twitter by the end of the year. Not that we were far off anyway. Reading Women's Weekly last night, I couldn't help but notice the magazine take a virulent stand against @schofe for 'tweeting' on his 'Memorial For Dad Weekend Mini-Break'.

Rumour is the most effective vehicle to promote a new communication channel or device. There is a precedent in email.

Yesterday's 'trending' took us all back to the mid 90s, and a tasteful song that stays with us to this day. Generally, a Man United v Arsenal fixture at Old Trafford isn't complete without a 5 minute chant of "Sit down you paedophile," sung vile-ly at Arsene Wenger.

Back in 1996, the UK was on the cusp of embracing email. Only senior management or people you didn't really know, had email addresses. We didn't really get it. Those that did - and the finger at the time was pointed to blokes in the City - recognised you could shuttle information around at rapid pace whether it was true or not.

At 2pm on a random Tuesday I was faxing press releases directly to bins in newsrooms. By 2.30pm, Ian Lessey in accounts was running around the office telling everyone that Wenger had apparently been "busted by cops in a hotel room." By 2.45pm William Hill had stopped taking bets on him being fired and by 4pm, he was on the steps of Highbury issuing a full denial.

By 5pm everyone realised it was total bollocks, was a bit confused, but wanted 'in' on this email thing.

Now everyone knows a little more about how Twitter works. I'm sure it's what Patrick would have wanted.

Talent

The son and heir to 4 Fuks Saké has changed the dynamic of Friday mornings. Pre and post his arrival the net effect is the same. Thursday night drinking has been replaced by Thursday night screaming. The walk to the station is melancholy. Today I long to sit in silence at Chester-Le-Street under two jumpers and switch my phone off.

I spent 90p on The Guardian. 60 minutes later, all change. I was spat out of the Northern Line at Tottenham Court Road, spirits lifted, and thinking ‘what excellent value for money.’ What the digital / media debate continues to forget is that I spend my 90p on talent, not on sheets of paper or a format. Talent has a price and it's worth paying for. 

Whilst the parallels are often drawn between the revenue models of news media and music (why pay when you can get music/info for free), the debate also conveniently avoids other entertainment vehicles.

Take sport. Should we perhaps convince Arsenal fans not to spend fifty quid on an Emirates ticket on the grounds that there's plenty of football to watch on Hackney Marshes? It's not going to happen.

So why would anyone NOT want to pay for good writing? Reading isn't a function, it's a pleasure.

For my 90p and mood shift I got Marina Hyde’s clinical knifing of Trudie Styler.

Or Harry Pearson…“An English-style centre-forward,” words which are to football what the phrase “contains mechanically reclaimed meat” is to fine dining."

Try The Eurovision “night of a thousand key changes,” guide.

Or Tim Dowling’s MPs expenses quiz.

Paul Calf once said, “you can’t buy class.” He’s right. Newspapers may change their formats and delivery systems, but as long as they supply collections of high quality, talented writing, people will pay. I don't give a monkeys whether I give my 90p to a man in a shop or I drop the coins in the slot on my computer - I'm paying the brand that brings it to me.

These people are professionals. We are amateurs. They’re worth a few quid. 90p's a steal.

Prince. Frog. Rainforests. Save Them

Colin

Introducing Colin. Used to be a pollack, but has had a name change at Sainsbury's. He's a fine fish but needs a profile boost. He's very versatile, good value, and compared with his cod mates - in plentiful supply.

Do the decent thing. Throw the cod back. Pick up Colin.

Sir Rhodes Boyson

Good to see from The Guardian's weak front page headline yesterday, that digital media is now seen as so simple we'll shortly be teaching it to primary school kids.

Clearly the headline was bullshit, and hid the real story. Nevertheless, let's take the headline at face value. Memories of the late Sir Rhodes Boyson come flooding back - a man from the Victorian era who held an education post in the last Conservative government.

Rhodes and my opinion towards education tend to overlap. We both think it's important to spell things properly, add up and use correct punctuation. However I'm not sure twatting kids with a cane helps them get any better.

Going digital should not mean lazy communication skills. It remains a source of quiet satisfaction that in the early months of my relationship with what became the future Mrs 4 Fuks Saké, she praised me for immaculate spelling in text messages, no matter how drunk I was.

The concern is a general erosion of the English language. Worse - God forbid - an increasing informality in the way we talk to each other. If you're reading this, there's a fair chance you go to business meetings, drink coffee and pitch ideas at people. As a result, I list a collection of words that in retrospect, if ever uttered, deserve a caning.

1. "Guys."

See earlier post.

2. "Grab"

As in, 'shall we grab a latte?' or 'shall we grab a bite to eat?' Either eat or don't. Usually spoken by people who suggest' sharing a starter.'

3. "Let me talk to the guys back at the ranch."

I don't know what I'm doing

4. 'My'

As in 'My account exec,' 'My creative guy,' (or my inferiority complex).

5. To be honest.

(Why? Weren't you being before?)

They'll be more.

Finally to confirm, cunt is a sociably acceptably word.

Drinking

We've known for years in this country that the most effective way to relax and unwind is a prolonged bout of drinking topped off with some light violence. It's a proven recipe for success - no debate. Interesting to read this morning though, that the ingredients of our national pastimes are changing.

According to Vinexpo, Britain has become the world's largest importer of wine. In 2007 we shipped in £3.3bn worth of the stuff which takes us past the Germans - not known for their shyness around a drink - and the Americans. On average, 2 bottles of wine make it into the average shopping trolley, of which the pusher is a mother with two kids.

Arguably, our drinking tastes across the demographic board are getting more sophisticated. Perhaps the aspirational ideal promised by Kerry Katona serving up a glass of three quid chardonnay alongside her Iceland prawn ring is permeating some skulls. Perhaps there's a bank of plumbers, electricians and builders turning into Keith Floyds when they're off duty.

Alternatively - not. There are plenty of reasons but one of micro economics is worth considering. In 2008, we drank 1 million less pints than we did in 2007. Pubs are shutting at a rate of 5 a day. This year, more beer will be sold in supermarkets than in pubs. Mum is pushing the trolley, loading the car up and carrying it home. It's tempting for her to 'forget' Keith's shopping request for a crate of lager, and replace it for roughly the same price, with a couple of bottles of wine that he can drink with her instead.

When it comes to drinking we're an adaptable bunch. We'll drink anything. Perhaps we'll see a rise in domestic violence as the 'at home' recessionary trends continue.

Obamadigimania

I could bore the shit out of you by pointing you to pictures of my boy on Flickr. He's important to me. To you he's another baby.

More interestingly, you could go and take a peek at this - Obama's Behind The Scenes On Election Night set. Loads of articles about his use of the Internet to raise money, votes etc - but here's a cracking example of it. Fascinating. Giles alerted me to this.