Friday, 19 May 2017

Things I Hate: Design Competitions

Have the chance to create work for a huge brand, seen worldwide and get a large model pencil as a reward, sounds pretty chill doesn't it? How could anyone hate that?

On the face of it, it seems like a pretty sweet deal—it's not too often as a student that Nike would approach you and ask you to do any work for them; so why would any company of their size do that through the means of a design competition? Perhaps they are just really generous people and want to give back to the community of their consumers. There certainly isn't any strange power imbalance here, certainly not! IT WOULD BE PREPOSTEROUS TO THINK OTHERWISE!

Design competitions are formulated to allow students to create work that they wouldn't otherwise be able to, be professionally critiqued on it and then even possibly be paid for it; it's a pretty good deal. Damn this Nike brief looks pretty awesome, you may say—but imagine instead of the powerhouse of trainers running this competition it was in fact a local plumber, with you paying £50 to pitch work alongside thousands of others in return for a possible pencil, would seem rather ridiculous, would it not?

Like everything else in our modern capitalist society, design competitions are programmed to exploit students and make it look as if they are getting a great deal instead. I mean, the rest of the design community have a staunch 'feck off' to anyone that may ask them for free pitching but we see it totally acceptable for the breadline generation to plow £50 en-mass to the middle man of design awards, in hopes that their £50 would be the one chosen not to be totally wasted.
Don't get me wrong, I think companies that have names that rhyme with 'Bee and A Bee' are doing good work, rewarding and reflecting the triumphs of modern design, accrediting creativity to the leading lights of our industry.

Like I said before, there is a power imbalance and it's creating an 'Overton Window' of social correctness, ever widening, enforcing a 'poverty-like' class on the creative undergraduates of this earth. I guarantee that in this years D&AD competitions there will be no single company that cannot afford design off their own backs, but instead allow you the privilege to pay them to see your free-of-charge spec work. Even if your work is never chosen, they've won.
At no cost to themselves, they've just received thousands of cutting edge, modern ideas and concepts which can be slowly churned all year, keeping their grubby, ink stained fingers briskly on the pulse of modernity.

Now, don't let me radicalise you just yet. It's very possibly I'm just a cynic as I've never won one and my views on the subject could be vastly different should I have bagged a bit of international freelance, some petty cash and a 2-foot pencil that says "Yes, I can design and other people think so too". I'm sure I would bask in it's glory, enlarging my cranium 8-fold as I swanned around my living room dancing with this enormous writing implement, to the greatest hits of Queen.

It's been known that I had a disagreement with Smint through their farcical competitions of past, so I have form to be a moody old codger; but if you give yourself a moment to analyse that proportionally only 20% of these competitions support charitable causes; it's big business giving itself a great round-of-applause at another successful year of draining all current, cutting edge ideas and pouring them into their flowerbed of existence. 

By now, you could be thinking "Fair point, I'll just not enter a competition and focus on paid freelance" but the fact that people take part isn't the issue; it's that it's allowed a poisonous mindset to worm its way into modern industry landscape. As a new graduate I attended New Designers, portfolio under my arm and a cheesy grin on my chops—filled with an air of enthusiasm. How that air released from my body so quickly when I chased up all 8 business cards I was awarded, to find that all these companies British Museum to River Island would love to have me, my work and my ideas but little to no want to actually pay for any of it.

From 2-week, unpaid internships that included free lodgings and breakfast like some kind of greetings card based wild west ranch; to 6-months, underpaid work in central London—they all shined like diamonds but cracked like cubic zirconia. The industry knows that with jobs being hard to come by, if they drop business cards like World War I propaganda they'll eventually manage to source that free or underpaid work they ever so – very clearly – need. #painfullyobvioussarcasm

As we draw this to a close, I'd like to change my original statement. I don't just hate design competitions, I also hate design expos and poisonous mindsets. I, in fact hate exploitation.
I assume many people have also come to this conclusion, just not in so many words—making the facetious statements "It'll look great in your portfolio" & "It'll be fantastic exposure" a common trait of the freelance community. These words have become the "I'm not racist, but" of the design industry. Repeated to ad nauseam.

Remember this great man, Mr. Alan Rickman—he was once a designer but quit to become an actor due to falling out of love with design and it's traits. So I guess crap design things have one advantage.
I hate you exploitation.

Saturday, 13 May 2017

The Swastika: a great logo for terrible people

This post will not contain any images of Nazi's, their emblem or anything to that visual cue—but I think my point is already half proved how strong of an icon the Swastika is because you can already picture it in your head.

Science fiction Hitler
It's not a safe subject to touch on, but it's something I've been thinking about for a while—I mean it's hard to speak in favour of anything that involved our history some mere 70 years ago. I'm not going to explain how I disagree with the atrocities of past nor will I apologise for my point of view; I realise that for many people the Swastika will stand for everything they hate and every rational fear that shakes their bones, but it is something that existed, and should we spend the rest of the future pretending it didn't, then will will only be doomed to repeat ourselves.

Firstly, the Swastika as we know it is little more than rather clever plagiarism; it certainly wasn't a great idea of the German empire and the facist camp so believed. It's roots are thousands of years before Hitler got rejected from art school, used as symbol for good fortune in and around Hindu and Buddhist sacred spaces. With this meaning, it's no wonder it was idealised through bastardisation into the sharp, powerful symbol for a race striving for purity and exuberant fortune.

If you can get your brain based colouring pencils out, we can now explore what makes this twisted cross so imposing. Let's start with it's blood red outer circle, mathematically perfect in proportion, housing the inner blade sharp edges of the cross. With each arm extending to a strict 90 degree angle, turning to point their razor edges at the encompassing blood stained circular housing. Ironically, the similarities between this can the Japanese flag drew clear when the two fought under the banner of the Axis, flying this emblem of hate into the eyes of violent history.

As much as I hate it's existence, it's undoubtably a great logo, burning your skin and boiling your blood with the power it expels from it's weight of ignorance and blind hatred. It's arguable that is power and stance as a 'great' logo comes from the fear it demanded, whereas if the German empire had fallen on it's face before it could take it's baby steps into the wrong side of the history books, it would instead be seen as the sign of the failed and stupid. I think if we just look at how it's constructed, it'd be a hard battle to convince otherwise that the strict, harsh angles denote anything other than strong design, thrusting it into comparison with the modern heavyweights of iconic logo design.

I write about this because I find that even today, with our developed society that expels the ideology of cultural racism and genetic purity, this once loved icon is still gripping people with fear for where it once stood. Perhaps you wouldn't shriek to see it in a museum but say you visited a friends house and it hung upon their living room wall; then think how you'd feel. As we hold such value with logos of brands it's not surprising we imbue such fear into this twisted logo, but my thoughts are that we shouldn't allow it such power.

As someone that develops branding and logo for my chosen profession, I see the value and worth in the logo, the icon. But I don't believe it should ever be raised to the levels that we have allowed them to; thrusting them above our heads into god-like status, praising them with greater worth than that of an owned image should be allowed. Though, we have also demonised these shapes into great monsters – such as the swastika – allowing them to hurt us and scare us into the emotions that their creators wanted us to feel. No shape, no logo and no branding should be allowed this status.

Yes, the Swastika was a great logo because it did (and still does) exactly what it was created to do. It was created to spit at the past, bastardise the present and scare the future, and we stand here today allowing it to do so. Perhaps if we (as humans) can create something so wrong it can hold 'monster under the bed' like fear for our future generations, then we could also make something for good, inspiring and embracing our future; but I don't think we've cracked it yet. 

p.s. Nazi's suck.

Tuesday, 9 May 2017

Just the tip: Honesty

In a world where being dishonest causes very few waves, it's surprisingly important to be honest—you no good rotten raggamuffins!

Often it's said that you can lie on your CV and nobody will notice; assuming you don't claim to be a doctor or something. It's much harder to lie on your portfolio but I'm pretty sure it's doable. Plagiarism is certainly a thing and it's something that keeps art directors and creative directors awake at night, restlessly wrapping themselves around their covers wondering who will next be asked to create something from their portfolio to find that it was in fact a quick 'pinterest theft'.

There is a saying that goes along the lines of "Just because we can, doesn't mean we should", clearly this could be appropriated to almost anything but I certainly think that it smells just about right to scent the air of design dishonesty. Just because you weren't caught out today, don't assume you'll never be caught out—your superiors are in the same industry as you, and have been there for longer than you.

Ever famous design studio Snask built an empire, talks and a book on lies, or what they refer to as pink lies – essentially white lies, a little more camp/Snask – and though being dishonest has worked out well for them, just like them, be aware of the consequences of being dishonest before you swim the depths of the honesty pool.

Tip 1: Be honest about your limitations
We all want to see ourselves as strong, exciting creatives but it's important to understand the difference between where we want to be and where we are. Personally, I want to do everything and try solve every problem but it's important for me to understand that my ambition is separate to my knowledge. I can professionally make you a corporate identity but just because I've tampered with a Raspberry Pi at home, it doesn't make me suitable to write a full python script for operating a lighting system.

Tip 2: Be honest about your skills
Before I quoted that I could professionally make a corporate identity, but that was perhaps an exaggeration on my behalf, twisted by my own perspective. I believe I could create that, and I have created many logos before but there is a large difference between branding for a local business and that of a global franchise.

Tip 3: Be honest about the past
I'm not convinced many people would do this, but if you lie about a previous employer, you'll be caught out pretty bloody speedily. This will likely also apply to any false claims of study or internship—the creative field isn't that expansive, especially in the UK. This isn't just about bare faced lies either, if you have told your employer that you've taken on more responsibility before or tackled a certain task, make sure your up to facing just that in the future. Art direction isn't quite as simple as organising a small team in university.

Tip 4: Be honest to yourself
Once you've rapped yourself around an idea, it's hard to untangle that knot—especially if someone pulls harshly at the edges by rejecting your idea. Being honest with yourself is likely the hardest and most important tip of the five, because it takes the most effort. If you've ever found yourself being angry at requested or concise feedback, it's because someone is being honest with you and your not being allowing of honesty with yourself.

I can't describe to you on how to be honest with yourself, but if you can't figure it out; do what I do—get a fail safe, get a shit spotter. Mine is the other half and she's great at it. Here's how it works.

Firstly, she's dyslexic so if I've made any spelling mistakes, she'll spot them in a peco-second, as it's how she's survived for the last 23 years. Alongside that there is a process of identifying the crap; here's a step-by-step breakdown for anyone that would like to copy as I do.

  1. Show work to said 'shit spotter'.
  2. Ask said person whether they like the work, whether they understand it and if there is anything clearly wrong with it.
  3. Seek their answer, in the best binary form; good or bad.
  4. If they say "It's crap" assess it and see if you also think it's crap.
  5. If you find it's crap, then it is indeed crap. 
  6. If you find you have an argument to explain why it's not crap, then it isn't.
  7. Depending which path is taken, follow the correct action to fix or finalise the work.
  8. Make cuppa for said 'shit spotter'.

Tip 5: Be honest to another
It's simple, if someone asks your opinion, give it honestly.
If someone wants feedback, lie as if you were Ghandi—don't.

Not sure what's going on, but it looks good.

Sunday, 30 April 2017

The digital disconnect

A lot of people spend all their life not knowing what they like to do and I guess I got it a little easier as from age 14 I knew I wanted to get into Design—but I was so disconnected from centuries of past design it's a wonder how I knew what I wanted to do at all.

For roughly 90% of it's existance design has been exclusively a subject of print, but for the boy that got hooked on making pixels colourful—it was strange plunge into the depth of pantones, inks and card. It could be argued that Graphic Design has existed since painting on cave walls or soap packaging in the roman era but in my eye, I reckon it started with typography, with the Gutenberg Bible. Though, if you are of greater faith than myself, it could also be argued that the part printed, part handwritten early Quran's beat Gutenberg to it.

Either way, I believe design started with moveable type, with desire and sales through an items design alone—ain't no caveman selling his wall. The Gutenberg Bible was created in 1455 and revolutionised design, so if you weigh those years up, I only became interested in design in 2008. I had 553 years of design behind me, most of which was print. I'd never indulged in anything particularly tangible and thus left with me with a horrible disconnect.

My teenage shelf held perhaps two books, three CDs and little ephemera because I was self-educated in pirating the early internet. I had no money and no desire for a CD because I could get it instantly, freely without any consequences—so that horrid plastic square can stay at the shop. I did think then as I do now, that computers are just about the best thing in the world, so I learnt how to do everything I could through a computer; this too included design, even if it was rubbish and bordering on misogynistic.

Just to clarify, I used to create signatures for in game money and a web-based RPG called Gangsters Paradise and almost everyone on there wanted to display how tough their internet gangster identity was by having rectangles displaying various guns, part-naked women and cars. It was terribly shite work that they requested, but I got recognition, in game money and most importantly creative freedom—as long as it included a bikini sporting lady.

for reference: this is the bikini island nuclear test (I think)
My disconnect didn't really change until university where ironically outside of university I was introduced record collecting. There was something more tactile and desirable about these card envelopes that slowly connected me back the main pipeline of design history—especially when out of any good budget I started to collect almost exclusively early jazz records dating for the late 40's onwards.

I recollect being about 2 months into my current habit, surfing the my local hometown market, picking up what is otherwise a fairly common James Brown record and asking the stall attendant "Is this THE James Brown?". It's not something to be ashamed of as I knew no better, but as someone that would have claimed themselves a Hip-Hop head—you'd have thought that I recognise the world's most sampled man. As I walked home with a couple of records that I now realise were horribly over-priced it struck me how little I knew of design past, the people being designed for or the designers themselves. I knew structure and I knew trends and I avidly read Computer Arts magazine but if it had any date on it that didn't start with 2, I didn't have a flipping clue.

Records were my gateway to reconnect, to pull the plug on my digital cranium and throw it head first and the stinky, half damp sleeves of drug addicts that can play brass instruments really way—jazz artists that is. After I had bought out all the local stock of Mingus and Parker I had to find a new way to engulf the foreign experience of pre-computer design whilst avoiding the ever recurring James Last and 90s Dance promos. The answer was magazines, my favourites, but I wanted the oldest ones I could find. Design magazine from the 60's held the burning torch of post-war modernism that I was hungry for. Even now a year after I've graduated from university, I miss two things; the communal studio that we worked in and the library that hosted said magazines. They are rather delicious.

Finding these two interests of mine threw my design forward thousands of leagues, because I wasn't just referencing what I had seen last week—I was looking at periods of design that spend hours producing simple shapes and layouts, so they had to be of quality.

I find that the current issue with design is that it's being gripped with constant plagiarism and steered by a badly placed confidence in blindly following trends; like a seeing eye mule. The majority of the current designers bursting out of the colleges and universities likely have the problem that I had—everything was served to them, quickly, easily and just like the previous. There isn't any reason to look further because you can be satisfied with that exists on the screen alone if you never need look past it. 

The digital disconnect is exactly what drives everyone to create a faux rustic logo with crossed arrows, or make everything have a heavy drop shadow with a 'flat' vector face. There is an experiment where a script uploads and image to instagram, saves it and uploads it again; over and over until the quality has been reduced to the point where it's completely unrecognisable. This is exactly what's happening with the machine, churning out endless carbon copies of lackluster design called modern design—driven by irrelevant hashtags and valued on likes. It's a facade that's slowly repeating itself until it reaches the centre of the maze and realises it knew not where it started. 

Saturday, 22 April 2017

Spicy Memes

If you are in the age group of people that have no chance to buy property in central London, you'll likely have seen a spicy meme or two. It's pronounce meem by the way, not me-me or mem-ey.

For those of you unaware, a meme is little more than an internet joke; usually pictorial. They have no specific owner, no specific creator and mostly an unknown origin, but if you were to try and follow the meme stream it'd like go like this—4chan, Imgur, Reddit, Twitter & Facebook, World Domination.

Due to their lack of direct ownership, there is a clear lack of copyright in any particular meme; which is a very exploitable concoction. The copyright free Emojis of their time. This has been both exploited for commercial effect, societal degradation and heavy, heavy racism. At this point we reference the strange case of our lord and savior Pepe, that slightly sad looking frog that has now reached the realms of 'normies', twisted into a racist emblem and a rare reaction along the way.

Pepe was originally a character in Matt Furie's comic Boys Club; made famous by a panel in which Pepe pisses in the toilet with his pants full removed and testifies that it "Feels good man", quickly picked up by 4chan and other image forums as a response image. Though as it's frequency grew, people began to create their own and hide them away, making 'rare pepes' and adapting them to every situation, sadness, anger, happiness and blind xenophobia—a crudely drawn frog became the unified face of the outer reaches of anti-social web interaction.

Because of the popularity of a Pepe reaction, it was being adopted by almost every user of the outlandish, free-speak forums of 4chan; which unfortunately lead to a simple comic character being drowned in imagery of compromising viewpoints; being that a large section of 4chan's user group toe-the-line between socially unacceptable and bear-faced hate. Like a sad green frog being trapped in a snowball at the top of Mont Blanc, it quickly rolled down the mountain of popular culture to develop into a horrendously large boulder, to which its original existence could no longer be observed and this is when it was proudly adopted as a searing JPEG based flag for the far-right.

soz pep
Where as things created innocently can adopt meme status and spiral out of control worse than 2007 Britney Spears, some brands are recognising the social grip that memes have on popular culture and embracing them with all their copyright free goodness. Step into the ring, Gucci—a very high fashion brand, gripping and repulsing the youth market with their memes and expensive handbags.

Though I think it's a bloody brilliant design stratergy to develop what is otherwise seen a snobbishly posh designer brand into relatable internet jokes, it's a bloody cheeky move if ever I've seen one—riding the wave of pre-created internet in-jokes without paying a penny of royalties. Though they didn't use Pepe, they still wouldn't have to have paid Mr. Furie a penny either as the standard internet 'pepe le frog' is different enough to be out of his copyright; the poor bugger.

See above the 'starter pack' meme where people collect a range of stereotypes for various trends, groups and genres as a poke at their community. Often created by people who are passionate about said topic, laughing at the people who are new to said topic and are likely failing to expected stereotypes. Those arrogant, funny bastards.

There is no obvious name for this one, but it's adapted from a meme where people display their frustration with a screen cap from children's TV show Arthur; in an episode that tackles anger and violence and shows him clenching his fist from a profile stance. Of all of them, this is the one that is least changed, but the one I like the most, as it feels very high fashion with a little hint to internet humour, rather than a blatant reference—it's cleverly different enough from the original Arthur scene to be out of copyright too; those sneaky high fashion harlots.

As far as I can read on the internet, people of the internet are cringing very hard at this campaign; but as I'm not very attached to any particular meme, I think it was a bold step for a brand that arguably trades exclusively on it's image and reputation to embraces what are otherwise spews of collected internet humour.

All in all, as an avid user of the internet and the generation to grew up with it, seeing it turn from Geosites to Wordpress and MetaCafe to Youtube. I wouldn't have ever expected internet humour to have such a poignant space in society, never mind and recognised style and set name. It seems the Meme culture is certainly a digital representation of the youth, displaying it's problems with xenophobia, a thirst for freedom of speech and the sharing of a continual in-joke.

A lot of meme hang heavily on current events or nostalgia, enforcing an – if slightly twisted – view on the modern world and the things happening around it, whether hilarious or tragic, they can all fall into a dark hole and become a meme. In my mind, they aren't as poisonous as we may think, which thousands of people dealing with serious situations by applying a sense of humor; or even using them as a gateway to freedom of speech, even if that is hate speech, it's still the freedom for them to say and express that. Long live the meme.

Saturday, 15 April 2017

I don't get it

If you've ever been to a gallery, you've turned to the person next to you, or they turned to you and exclaimed the ever prevalent words "I don't get it" your figures over-shadowing a large red, mounted square.

The phrase itself is synonymous within any form of exhibition, design to performance; but it more often raises it's head when prompted by a lobster based telephone or a shark hovering in a solid embalmment. I've said it myself, and I've heard it many times also—the problem is that it's almost completely redundant. It's not wrong to be confused, but often we're looking for something that needn't be looked for, expecting something that doesn't exist.

We should be attending galleries not looking to understand everything, not looking to please just our eyes but instead something to please our soul, put fire in our bellies and sour our tongue. Often the fact an artwork isn't simply understood is part of it's existance, we shouldn't scan modern art the same way we have learned to deconstruct European Oil Paintings—with a term as broad as art we should understand that each piece is individual and can be understood in a totally different way.

We may often say that we don't understand as we aren't really trying to, we're looking at a crude constructed sculpture and trying to read it everything we currently know, looking for emotion in the finesse rather than just absorbing it's aesthetic wonder. Often we've been instructed to not understand the piece before us, in the case of minimalism or Dadaism, it doesn't need to be understood–l'art pour l'art.

To not understand is a human condition, and where art stands high and mighty in the spotless prestige of the gallery we exclaim our confusion in which to rebel against the pieces before us. "I don't get it" is a rebellion against the higher society we find ourselves standing against, to almost dismiss that it shouldn't be given such prestige if it cannot be understood by ourselves. Often it needs to be fought against but just accepted for what it stands to be—but as I also said, we're often looking to sour our tongue with pieces we search for disgust in, like a jewel encrusted skull or 120 bricks upon the floor.

I don't get it is a prominent and poignant term when assessing art but when applied to design, it's no longer a fair term of the common man (or woman) but instead terribly problematic. To not understand art can be part of it's aura but to not understand design is to heat up the branding iron and sizzle it into the upper thigh of it's creator, owner and distributor.

Like art, design is created in an aesthetic space but unlike anything hung on a gallery wall, it needs to be understood to be effective—it needs to be clear for it purpose; as without said purpose, it stops being design, or at least not design in it's purest sense. I believe it should be a strong and divisive metering of your work to see whether what has been designed can be understood by the people who would consume it's imagery, it's message and it's existance.

For an example, the most publically obvious aspect of design is a logo. Good or bad, every company has one and should you poll every citizen of Milton Keynes I'm sure you'll find that the average human would relate design to exactly that. The Nike logo is the most recognisable logo I can think of, so we'll work with that one.

It's origin isn't directly obvious but the radical nature of it's 'swoosh' suggests something exciting; though you may have never seen it before, it's very clearly it's not the logo for your local washing machine repair shop is it? 

Now the logo may feel sporty to us because it's so ingrained into our lives as the ultimate symbol for sport, health and fashion but a hard as you try, it's hard not to understand that it's a shape driving a fast, slick motion from one point to another. Ask yourself, have you ever picked up a Nike product, looked at the embezzled Swoosh and turned to the shop attendant to say "I don't get it".

The difference here is that design cannot carry the ambiguity that art does, it has to be read for the message it's owners need rather than the message to viewer of any given artwork could attach to a Rothko. Though clearly, design can be made to be misunderstood or enigmatic and this works well for the radical brands that adopt them, but even now these confusing logos still reflect the message they are selling—Supreme, Palace, Soylent etc.

Next time you want to explain that you don't understand Tracey Emin, or Damien Hirst give it a second and try to not understand and just take it for what it is—eventually you'll realise what stands before is likely shite, but it's art so there isn't much more to understand about it other than that.
But if you want to say the same about design, speak with it's curator and if it still doesn't make sense, buy some beers, a pack of tissues and let them know; they may cry, they may get angry but if they are clever, they'll listen and eventually you'll create better design for the masses. You bloody champ.

Monday, 10 April 2017

Thank god for emojis

It's not particularly cutting edge to refer to Emoji's as the modern youth's Hieroglyphics—but clich├ęs aside, they are rather good fun. Even if I do admit it myself.

(GIF unrelated)
What started as developed smiley faces, has now developed to cryptic sexual consumables and emoticons suitable for threatening life itself with. I used to rather detest sending or receiving a little yellow face, sparkle or spontaneous vehicle but now I've caught the bug – a few years late, might I add – and now I can't help myself; forever attaching them to everything. You only need to check my instagram to see a cornucopia of unrelated sparkles, hand gestures and faces in the caption of nearly every post.

Now as they grow in popularity, they clearly needed to adapt to their wider market; introducing various skin-tones and genders to hundreds of different icons, though as hard as they try, the 'eggplant' icon will never truly represent the vegetable it aesthetically refers to.
Now, third parties jumping on this popularity bandwagon, creating their own replicas of the official set to be hosted upon their own platfroms, which in the case of Twitter has created an open-source library of infinitly scalable icons—just in case you want to express your desire for butts on a letterhead or a billboard. Which isn't all that bad is it?

While the rest of the world makes more icons, to be misused as subtle references to penises and beyond, the brave old soles at Grindr (gay dating app) blew the modesty out of water, with a hardcore library of very, very clear, yet still slightly enigmatic emojis.

Little explanation needed here
Though they are ugly as sin – design wise – they are a great development to a third party emoji library, rather than just mildly copying what already exists, through making them slightly less iconic. They've taken the subtle, ripped it apart and opened their own market for pictorially asking for 'Dick Picks' and defining the Top or Bottom preferences of any and all of it's users.

It's a refreshing dive into the depth of popular culture to see such an iconic modern trend be adapted to suit it users rather than just reinforce the 'hip and trendy' nature of any particular silicon valley company. I'll be sick if I have to see another ugly interpretation of the Turtle icon, but a skin coloured aubergine—hell yeah! 

Thank god for Emojis, how else would we explain we have penis on the mind, pretend to be a monkey releasing a secret or threaten ex-lovers—all encased in a 10x10 icon. If aliens should want to communicate with us, lets hope they've got some kick ass icons themselves; because mathematics just aint going to cut it for me.

Copyright © Vincent Walden Sucks