Aeons ago Britain was Ovaltine. Now it’s Kalpol. This is a sinister
Ovaltine used to be the ad industry’s contribution to the national
debate about our place in the scheme of things. Redolent with early
Hegsian proddy values, Ovaltine staked its claim to pre-Suez
When blokes had jobs to come home from on wet nights in groovy
trenchcoats and the little woman worked to make the home a place of
peace, order and tranquillity, with little Johnny well tucked up so
daddy had a cheek to peck before laying into the room temperature
Nowadays little Johnny is well out of it, floating on his chemical
cushion, getting his quota of new British unconsciousness.
Have we fallen this far? Who’s behind this slow trudge of the national
psyche further down the line towards passivism and terminal
Well, adlanders, the claw-back starts here. Down with irony. Out with
pastiche. Let’s ease up on the English cricket team and start trumpeting
every near win as a triumph. Otherwise no kids are going to want to play
the frigging game.
And let’s get cinema ads back to 30 seconds, instead of the miles of
pasteurised kapok with which they red carpet main features these
We have nothing to lose but our Macs. Seize your layout pads and fight
the forces of Kalpol.