GREG MOODIE

You may be wondering what all this has to do with graphic design. Well so am I. But what does anything have to do with anything nowadays? I mean, I bought the Da Vinci Code thinking it had something to do with literature, and where did that get me? I'll tell you - page five.

The fact is it was graphic design that got us into this mess. My client Spore had asked me to analyse the worst logo in the world for its religious symbology, and rather than shatter his belief that I studied the subject at Harvard, I accepted the commission. It had been a lean month.

Having taken the problem first to possible genius the Admiral, who pondered it at length before getting sidetracked trying to split the internet, and then to Fifi LaFlamme, whose sherry-like substances left me giddy but no further forward, it seemed I had exhausted all the routes open to me.

There was only one thing left and it was a nightmare scenario. I was going to have to actually do some work.

What Does All This Have To Do With Graphic Design?

February 13, 2009

Certainly the encrypted message that turned out to spell Jack Daniels had so far led to nothing but giddiness, and I had failed to find a connection between it and the worst logo in the world, as my client Ignacious Spore had requested.

"We need help. Professional help," said LaFlamme with determination.

"Yes, you're right," I replied enthusiastically. "I know a professor of religious symbology who could help us get to the bottom of this."

"Actually I was thinking of Rehab. But your idea's good too."

There was no doubt about it. With LaFlamme, life had thrown me a curve ball.

The Greatest Mystery Of All Time – Or At Least Today

February 11, 2009

It occurred to me that LaFlamme and I might have stumbled onto something that would become one of the greatest mysteries of all time. But then I thought we probably hadn't, and went back to darning my socks. Certainly the encrypted message that turned out to spell Jack Daniels had so far led to nothing … Continue reading →

Despite being awash with Jack Daniels, it was several hours before LaFlamme and I realised it was actually the solution to our problem. That is to say, ‘Jack Daniels' was the solution to the anagram ‘Jackal dines' that my dubious client Ignacious Spore had left whilst dropping dead in my doorway.

By this time LaFlamme's ‘liquid inspiration' had left us very heavily inspired, and we failed to notice that Spore was nowhere to be found. He was a slippery character alright, but he would have had to slip across the landing and down four flights of stairs, something dead clients can't normally do.

"Maybe he was just having a lie down," LaFlamme said helpfully.

"He walked up four flights of stairs with a cryptic message just to have a lie down? Wouldn't it have been easier to stay home in bed?"

"Spirited away?" she suggested, with only a hint of silliness. In our current inspired state this began to sound quite likely, at least more likely than my slipping down the stairs explanation. But something didn't fit.

And if he didn't slide out the door and he wasn't spirited away, that only left one conclusion - I had no idea what was going on.

At Sea With Mister Jack

February 9, 2009

This particular anagram, ‘Jackal dines,' was perplexing in the extreme. I didn't want to get into it but once again LaFlamme had skilfully manipulated my free will. Now I was compelled to consume large quantities of bourbon and decipher my client's cryptic note.

Thoughts of ravenous jackals raced through my fevered mind. I say ‘raced' but ‘wandered pointlessly' would be more apt. These jackals were in no hurry. The only thing that ever raced through my mind was bewilderment.

Suddenly LaFlamme stirred. "I hate to say this but... Jack Daniels," she declared.

"No, no more for me thanks."

"No, Dumbo, Jack Daniels is the answer!" I thought for a moment she was about to burst into song. And I wasn't sure I liked her tone.

"It's MISTER Dumbo if you don't mind," I corrected her.

"You can be Emperor Dumbo if you like," she replied. "Don't you see? It's been staring us in the face. Literally."

She hovered the JD bottle before me, as if practising hypnosis, and slowly it began to sink in. But LaFlamme needed no practise. I'd been hypnotised for years.

An Unwelcome Cure For Laziness

February 6, 2009

I always thought anagrams, like jigsaws, were for people who had never discovered laziness. Why would I waste precious loafing hours trying to fix something that was deliberately broken to keep you people and your overactive lobes happy? This particular anagram, ‘Jackal dines,' was perplexing in the extreme. I didn't want to get into it … Continue reading →

LaFlamme continued to analyse my client Spore's cryptic note - ‘Jackals dine' - for it's anagrammatic possibilities, with increasingly silly results. With Spore himself still unconscious or even dead in the doorway, this could have been viewed as negligent. But I decided in Spore's case it was ok.

"Perhaps we need a drop of liquid inspiration," she suggested, and I visibly winced. LaFlamme had administered this type of inspiration to me before with devastating results.

"I'm not sure I can handle being inspired right now," I protested, feebly - I knew it was a lost cause.

"Nonsense," said LaFlamme and poured two massive belters of bourbon. Why she didn't just get a funnel and inspire me to death was beyond me.

Inspiration In Large Measures

February 3, 2009

Despite LaFlamme's confident assurance that my unconscious client's cryptic message - ‘Jackals dine' - was an anagram, she didn't appear to know of what.

Crosswords were never my forte and after thirty minutes putting pen to paper, all I could come up with was ‘Jackal dines.'

"It's just as well you're pretty," said LaFlamme, making a hollow knocking sound against the top of my head. "Better leave the thinking to me."

I happily relinquished the task as I feared any further brainstrain would surely lead to a hernia of the head.

It gave me time to reflect on the events leading up to this moment, the unusual sequence of mishaps and misadventures that left me in this confused state. But without reviewing previous posts I'm not that sure what they were.

The Hollow Sound Of My Head

February 1, 2009

Despite LaFlamme's confident assurance that my unconscious client's cryptic message - ‘Jackals dine' - was an anagram, she didn't appear to know of what. Crosswords were never my forte and after thirty minutes putting pen to paper, all I could come up with was ‘Jackal dines.' "It's just as well you're pretty," said LaFlamme, making … Continue reading →

More George Lyttleton, Band Manager >>

"Back in the old days I would just be getting home round about now. In fact, Phil Lynott and I would have tanked a bottle of Smirnoff before we even put on our makeup. But having been shown the hooch equivalent of a red card sometime in the eighties - don't ask when, it's a blur - it's been a 6am rise ever since.

The band are rehearsing today. At least I think they're rehearsing. I don't really keep that close a watch on them. ‘Exploit from a distance', that's what I say. For one thing, it saves walking around with a clothes peg on my nose.

I heard the new material and apparently some of it's pretty good. This I know for a fact because one of the execs told me so. ‘Never trust your own judgement when others can judge for you,' that's what I say.

So I begin the day's business by glancing at some of the emails I get: the usual collection of losers looking to hang on to my coat tails, now that I can afford coat tails. Every no-talent muso within a thousand mile radius wants me. They're like moths at a great flame.

Let's face it: anybody can be in a band. The real talent is in management."

- George Lyttleton, Band Manager

George Lyttleton’s 6am Bugle Call

January 30, 2009

More George Lyttleton, Band Manager >>

The following are the liner notes from the new cd by ESRE:

"I used to play guitar. Seriously. I was the only guy around who could play ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water' using just two chords. I bowled them over alright. People said I should ‘desist', but I was never that keen on protest songs.

When I turned to managing bands in the 1970's, it was a rich period in pop history. Managers could have their pick of any number of great groups back then. There was 10cc, Roxy Music, Cockney Rebel, Thin Lizzy... if only I'd picked them and not the turkeys I ended up with, I might not be here working with Neil Sommerville now.

But it's all water under the bridge. Bleeding troubled water. Which brings me to Esre. I think they could be my ‘bridge'. I think I still have a chance at the big time with these kids. And for those of you who read the papers and think you see a pattern emerging in my life - the making of a small fortune followed by tax evasion, bankruptcy, ignominy and a spell at her majesty's pleasure - let me say this: Esre are only my ticket to the first of these. I can handle the rest myself.

I may not understand their music, but when has that ever bothered managers in the past? I know a good thing when I see one. Like the first time I saw Dire Straits. Unfortunately it was at Wembley stadium so I was too late to sign them.

And it's not that I don't like Esre's sound, even though everybody knows music's gone downhill since the invention of stereo. I mean, one speaker was good enough for Phil Spector and if it wasn't broke why fix it? Spector may be a major twonk, but if Gnarls Barclay traded their four cloth ears for just one of his they might come up with a decent tune.

This aside, I think you'll agree that Esre could do wonders for my bank balance and help to erase some of the terrible things that have been said about me in the press. Who knows, they could even be as big as Simon and Garfunkel."

- George Lyttleton, Band Manager

George Lyttleton Introduces ESRE

January 29, 2009

The following are the liner notes from the new cd by ESRE: "I used to play guitar. Seriously. I was the only guy around who could play ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water' using just two chords. I bowled them over alright. People said I should ‘desist', but I was never that keen on protest songs. When … Continue reading →

LaFlamme wrenched the piece of paper from his fingers and read it aloud.

"Jackals dine," she said mysteriously. We both stared at each other blankly across Spore's gangly frame.

"Jackals dine? What the hell does that mean?" I asked.

"I might have missed all the other anagrams in this story, but I'm not about to miss this one," LaFlamme replied confidently.

I had no idea what she meant, but at least the story was back on track.

My Client – D.O.A.

January 27, 2009

Spore lay unconscious on the floor having stumbled in seconds earlier, clutching a slip of paper. I tried to determine whether he was still breathing. I may not like my clients but I don't want them dead. It's bad for business. LaFlamme wrenched the piece of paper from his fingers and read it aloud. "Jackals … Continue reading →