Campaign Diary: I’m Only A Punter But

Aeons ago Britain was Ovaltine. Now it’s Kalpol. This is a sinister shift.

Aeons ago Britain was Ovaltine. Now it’s Kalpol. This is a sinister

shift.



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

certainties.



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

IPA.



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

acquiescence?



Millbank?



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

days.



We have nothing to lose but our Macs. Seize your layout pads and fight

the forces of Kalpol.



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