My God, my God why have you forsaken me.

Hello.

So, I'm aware that the ideas:florid narcissistic mania ratio on the blog has lurched pronouncedly over the past few weeks or so. I must admit that I'm finding it harder and harder to write about advertising.

The effects of working in advertising, namely, believing that it is important, being prepared to defend it in arguments with people who work for the BBC and generally looking at it with anything other than a horrified scorn wear off after about a week and half.

The new Frank TV spot is the only thing I've seen that I've found at all interesting and that's only because a long career of Cannabis use was a major factor the first of GC's intermittent nervous breakdowns and also precipitated an insane belief that he was the Second Coming of Jesus Christ, which lasted for about three months during which time he devised a kind of metaphysical proof of his messianic credentials, namely that if his was the only consciousness in the universe of which he had conclusive proof, and if the only explanation in the out-there universe for the existence of his consciousness was a pyramid of improbability, based on a combination of astrophysical phenomena of unfathomable complexity and random genetic mutation, crowned by a subset of vastly improbable historical events including the meeting of his forbears and parents and his pre-conscious existence as an uncharacteristically successful zygote in his father's half-teaspoonful of jisom, then the whole thing was just too perverse and ironic and unlikely unless there was some very good reason for his being there, namely being the Second Coming of the Messiah.

Obviously, and this is the really mad bit, I was unable to tell anyone that I was Jesus, because that would ruin it. The only thing I couldn't work out was what, if I was the Second Coming, I was doing sitting around smoking drugs and only eating Ryvita all day long.

So when I say the Frank spot interested me, really I mean it reminded me of what it was like to be totally insane.

I admit that 3rd person conceit I seem to have adopted for this blog rather counts against my sanity on this occasion but I'm on a sufficiently stable basis these days that I can take the hit.

I don't know if this ad will actually prevent teenagers from smoking weed, to be honest you'd probably have as much luck trying to stop teenage boys from beasting themselves, but at least it doesn't make it look glamorous or gritty - for more on this particular kind of stupidity see here. (I'm particularly proud of that post title).

GC will be treading the boards tonight in a production of "A Memory, a Monologue, a Rant and a Prayer" at the New Players Theatre. It's benefit performance for a feminist organisation which I got involved with because I thought it might help me get laid. I will post more about this soon.