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There is an old line, variously attributed, about the difficulty of getting a man to understand something when his salary depends on his not understanding it.
There is an old line, variously attributed, about the difficulty of getting a man to understand something when his salary depends on his not understanding it.
The legal advertising business has never been known for its sense of whimsy.
The problem with having been in business for four decades is that people remember what you used to do.
The courtship rituals of the advertising business have always required a certain willingness to reinvent oneself.
The menu boards at McDonald's have always been in the business of selling — Quarter Pounders, McFlurries, the occasional McRib when the stars align.
For years, the advertising industry has been trying to figure out what to do with voice assistants, those disembodied helpers that were supposed to revolutionize commerce but have spent most of their existence setting kitchen timers and playing the wrong song.
There is a particular kind of modern indignity that involves being blamed for something you had nothing to do with, by people who did not bother to check whether you had anything to do with it.
The corner office with the marketing title on the door has always had a revolving quality to it, but the spin rate appears to be accelerating.
There is a particular kind of cognitive dissonance that occurs when you spend the most money on something you do not actually believe is the best use of it.
When the Marx Brothers formed a production company in 1933, they called it International Amalgamated Consolidated Affiliated World Wide Film Productions Company Incorporated, of North Dakota.