Hark, I hear a harkening.

This is my second consecutive post about advertising. I don't write much about advertising these days. Mostly because I just don't care. And neither do the folks in M&A, who have no background in ads, the making ads, the effectiveness of ads or even the culture of ads. 

They do however have a knack for money; the hoarding of it. (two posts about the industry and a semicolon!)

Sadly, their money grubbing comes at the expense of the folks who actually do the ads. 

That's why when I heard of the vocational demise of Mark Read, CEO, or some other bloated title, at Ogilvy, I knew I'd have to write about it. Mostly because I knew my friend and fellow blogger George Tannenbaum would be writing about it. I also knew I could scoop him because he had turned this week's Ad Aged blog over to guests (fellow serfs) toiling in the biz.

George has a personal beef with Mr. Read and has taken him to task over his infamous claim that the failure of modern day advertising is that it "harkens back to the 80's and 90's."

Ouch, a stinging indictment. 

It just so happens that was also the golden age of idea-driven advertising and brand stewardship. Hence the image above -- it's a Winch -- seemed most appropriate. Winches work, CEO's (by and large) don't.

I'm not sure Mr. Read, like his predecessor Sir Martin Sorrell, both greedy wankers, ever made an ad or had a hand in making an ad in all his life. For all I know Mark too may have had a prodigious background in Wire. Or Paper. Or Plastics. 

Or Bloviation.

But that never stopped either from pontificating, and profiting, obscenely, from those that do. Or did. 

I never worked for Ogilvy. 

Which is odd in itself, because after a lifetime of office jumping at big agencies, and then desk jumping at the Long Table Of Mediocrity™ as a freelancer for close to two decades, I've worked at almost every other major ad agency on the planet. 

Keep in mind this was years ago. Today there are but two or three major ad agencies left standing. And as George has repeatedly pointed out they are --after the hedge fund managers and vulture capitalists picked at it -- an unrecognizable carcass with little or no flesh on the bone.

Like George I have a lasting distaste for advertising CEOs. The target of my personal disdain shall remain nameless. Fact is, I never referred to him by name but always by the name of a cocktail that sounded so  fittingly similar.

I'll burn that bridge when I get to it.