CopyGhosting.com launch

MalaPopulisms may have resembled a sleeping volcano, but I have not been dormant. The fruits of my labour have now been launched: CopyGhosting, a copywriting and ghostwriting service for projects of all sizes -- from CVs and slogans, to articles and manuscripts ... and everything in between.

I'm already busy with commissions, but please check out the site if you have a job you would like me to consider. Send me an email or call me to discuss your project and your budget.

High Fiverr: my recent absence explained

Although I've been offline at MalaPopulisms, it has not really been a sabbatical. I've been in huge demand in the last few months completing well-received 'gigs' at Fiverr.com (see also For five dollars more ...).

My offer to write sample slogans has been in play since April 2010, but the reality has been that I've written marketing copy, given SEO advice, edited web copy, composed voiceover scripts for videos and animations and suggested business strategy ideas for over thirty projects so far, the majority being commissioned since September this year. This explains the hiatus.

I've had 100 per cent positive feedback and plenty of enthusiastic reviews for my completed work.

The next step is to find client work at a commercial market rate. I am about to book my first project: a mixture of SEO advice, web copy writing and business mentoring.

I shall continue to post at MalaPopulisms, but my copywriting jobs will take precedence. If anyone reading this post is interested in hiring me for such work please don't hesitate to contact me by leaving your details in a Comment note. I'd be delighted to get back to you to discuss potential projects.


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50 ways to improve your website

I've just finished reading 50 Ways to Make Google Love Your Website, a recently published primer on how to organise your website so that Googlebots spot it more easily and that other websites realise they want to link to it, all in the name of getting fabulous page-ranking recognition when your killer keywords get typed into Google's search engine. If you run a website, market stuff over the web or engage in e-commerce, buy this book: it will change your understanding of what it takes to build a successful online presence.

I should declare a tangential interest. I am largely aware of the book as one of its authors, Steve Johnston, is a friend of mine; and I edited an early eBook version of the project hosted on Steve's company website. Many months down the line, the published edition has evolved out of all recognition from the early PDF format to the absolute benefit of the book.


50 Ways to Make Google Love Your Website lets digital media professionals and enthusiastic in on SEO secrets in seamless everyday language; the book must have been through several drafts and has profited from careful editing from Random House and various peer review critiques. It's an impressive achievement and deserves to clean up the competition within its niche.


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Separated at birth, stars with reasonably long haircuts

Incidentally, have you ever noticed how Stephen Fry and James May are never in the same studio. Stephen even drove the 'reasonably priced car' on Top Gear, while James outed himself (ironically) as The Stig.


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Ask Stephen: the virtual booktour

Only Stephen Fry could get away with this, yet he may be starting a trend: launching a book via Twitter, cinema, webcasts and, later, YouTube, no doubt. And The Fry Chronicles is available in five formats simultaneously: book, eBook, iBook, audiobook and iPhone app.

Mr Fry is launching the tome by appearing at the various UK theatres to do augmented book readings on successive evenings: the add-on part comes from interaction with audiences in the venue and at 60 cinemas with some of his 1.8 million Twitter followers.

Real-time Q and A, and the Twittersphere will send #recommendation tags to their exponential readers. Already the Chronicles has toppled Tony Blair's Journey from the top of Amazon's UK book chart. Very smart.

All this commercial success without stepping into a television or radio studio, chatting to features journalists (although Mr Fry is doing his bit the old-fashioned way, too), going 'on the road' past the Oxford-Cambridge-London triangle, or getting your hair wet.

Where Stephen leads, other writers will follow, especially if they have a Twitter fan base.


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Florida: Fahrenheit 451

Ray Bradbury's novel Fahrenheit 451 derived its title from the temperature at which paper burns. Florida is feeling the heat from around the world about the pastor Terry Jones on/off campaign to incinerate copies of the Koran at the Dove World Outreach.

This is the stuff of fatwa. You don't hear stories of people burning Bibles, Torahs or, to the frank, any kind of book (apart from the Nazis), so this proposed action is incendiary to the Muslim world.

The proposed compromise, to move the location of an Islamic Centre in Manhattan, is probably a non-starter in that the site is two blocks away from Ground Zero.

This row is dangerous and, whatever happens, Mr Jones has succeeded in strengthening the common stereotype of the United States as an arrogant, intolerant state. Although this is a simplistic and wrong-headed view, there are extremists in the country who play to the gallery.

Terrorism may increase in the short term, Osama bin Laden will probably release a video, and Mr Jones may need to employ enhanced security measures for himself and his church.


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A room of one's own: an unattainable dream?

Where there's an online product, you'll soon find a hacker or a pirate.

The latest examples that confirm the human urge to scream 'Mine' very loudly are Andy Coulson's tenure as editor of the News of the World (phone hacking has been alleged by, most recently, the New York Times) and hacker success in distributing popular ebooks for free.

Even the unveiling of the Stig's identity on Top Gear smacks of the school playground bully, tearing off the wings of a butterfly.

At stake, personal and professional privacy, and the right to make money from electronic products.

This is a gold rush in reverse where, in a landscape where information wants to be free, no one is allowed to make money. This spells disaster to conventional business models for creative companies. The globalisation effects of YouTube, home recording and back-bedroom piracy will propel the media into a dangerous Wild West outlaw world where copyright is seen as red tape and creatives won't be able to earn a crust. The new billionaires will be the sharp-elbowed owners of the speakeasies at the edge of the law and beyond.

The likes of Mick Jagger, J K Rowling, Steven Spielberg, Clint Eastwood and Dan Brown represent the last of a dying breed: stars who get rich through their imaginations.


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Pulling a rabbit out of the hat: The Illusionist review

Fabulous movies don't have to be plot-filled. And great scripts can be stuck in development hell for fifty years.

Jacques Tati wrote the screenplay for The Illusionist back in 1956 as a way of trying to re-establish a relationship with his estranged late daughter, Sophie (see also Edinbourg rendez-vous? Yes, please)

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The Tati Estate has been very cautious about anyone producing the story, so Sylvain Chomet (the maker of the classic Belleville Rendez-Vous) needed the tact of a fox to convince the family to let him loose on the crown jewels as a feature-length animation.

And to persuade them to let him reset the movie largely in Edinburgh and the Highlands of Scotland.

Big on atmosphere, father-daughter relationships and the disappointment of fading dreams, The Illusionist is a period costume piece without nostalgia. It's a rites of passage story about growing up and growing old, sad without being tragic and with a strange nobility invested in the central character: Tati himself as the illusionist.

Almost a silent film, the movie has a great chance of an Oscar next year as Best Foreign Picture. Go see it for yourselves.


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Live from Easter Road: Thompson 1 Murdoch 1

At the Edinburgh television festival's MacTaggart lecture, the BBC director general, Mark Thompson ordered a dish of hot revenge from the media menu. His target was James Murdoch, Sky's chairman, who roasted the BBC during the event's speech last year.

What would be more impressive than the knockabout jousting would be a smidgen of mea culpa. But media moguls are politicians these days and have to be seen to avoid Gerald Ratner-style 'crap' gaffes. You can't admit to naffness without adversely affecting the next BBC licence-fee settlement or the next morning's Sky share price.


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Sean Connery at 80

Shaken, not stirred, perhaps to have reached such a milestone, the Scottish icon is still semi-active as an actor. A voiceover for the animation, Sir Billi, is in post-production.

It's amazing that Sir Sean was still playing action heroes in 2003. Given audience expections, you can't imagine Angelina Jolie playing Lara Croft at 73, unless the franchise spins out to the Tomb Raider's granddaughter.

Movies are strange beasts that don't reflect society. Perhaps we are more reluctant to let go of action heroes? Maybe things won't change until women get action franchises as the lead protagonists ... and this has not happened often in a century of commercial film-making.


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The art of East London: beyond Banksy

'How can you tell me you're lonely
And say, for you, that the sun don't shine
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind'

Ralph McTell might have been singing about isolation in the big city, but Hookedblog.co.uk's blogger and street sherpa, Mark, took a group of individuals at a loose end last Sunday on a tour around the ever-changing surfaces of parts of Islington, Hackney and Tower Hamlets.


This urban jungle safari brought out an abundance of sightings of work by the likes of Roa, Invader, Eine, D*face and the Toasters: many of which would be missed by the untrained eye. Mark's tracker skills in the wilder streets proved invaluable. Everyone caught the moments with their cameras, while trophy hunters were discouraged.


And were the walk to be repeated in a few weeks time, the images captured would be different; shifted by the passage of time, the councils' clean-up teams, gallery commissions, opportunistic collectors and street-art politics.



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Overnet stardom

The mechanisms of making a name for oneself are changing. Wither music went, comedy follows. Bo Burnham has gone from gigging in his bedroom to the Edinburgh Fringe, with a stratospheric fan base shift from 1 (his Mum) to 59 million.

What's next? Playwrights: front room to Royal Court? Actors showreels: no need for auditions? Television presenters/hosts: cut out the expensive Stage School fees?

But in this wired world of celebrity meteors, will fame burn brightly but fade quickly? It would be interesting to learn current hit stats for Susan Boyle YouTube videos and websites.


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A Chelsea morning

Chelsea Clinton got her wish to have a high-profile, low-profile wedding to her investment banker, Marc Mezvinsky. Commentators were saying that the nuptials were an American equivalent of a royal wedding, although the highest profile celebrity to attend was Ted Danson.

So, who's next in line? Of the Bush twins, Jenna is already married and rumours of a Barbara wedding proved false. And it'll be a long wait for the Obama daughters, Malia and Sasha, who are at least a decade away from naming the day.

The US media will have to hope they get a bit closer to the action next time ...


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Variations on a midlife theme

You can tell you're getting older when ...

• Generation Y actors start getting wrinkles;
• Your favourite shops disappear (usually bought by a supermarket chain or an online retailer);
• Politicians change the groundrules again for no good reason;
• You remember the last three recessions;
• No one knows your favourite television shows, movies, bands etc and you have never heard of theirs;
• You fancy the romantic lead's mum/dad (delete as applicable).

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Another con bites the dust

So, another stakeout ends in a blaze of gunfire: Raoul Moat, the Northumbrian killer on the run, has shot himself when cornered.

The sad truth is that this was a predictable outcome. Think of Bonnie and Clyde, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Billy the Kid, John Dillinger, and Adolf Hitler, and a pattern forms. I can only think of Saddam Hussein and Radovan Karadzic as examples of people who came quietly when surrounded.

Perhaps in times of economic uncertainty we are more aware of heinous crimes, as a backdrop to financial hardship. Whether symptom or cause, these cases spring from despair but are magnified by the media. Once such a crime spree starts cascading, the media supplies the oxygen to keep the fire raging: taking the criminal alive would almost seem like an anti-climax.

And how come the most infamous of these episodes always seems to happen in rural idylls? Hungerford, Dunblane, Cumbria and now Rothbury? Why not, say, Birmingam, Cardiff, Edinburgh, or London? After the fuss has subsided, there may be an eerie fascination for a certain type of tourist in visiting the scenes of the crimes.


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Must the show go on?

Pop stars are finding new misfortunes with which to grace the tabloids.

There have been crashes (e.g. Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochrane, Marc Bolan, Sonny Bono), drug meltdowns (e.g. Syd Barrett, Janis Joplin, Michael Jackson), alcoholic binges (e.g. Jim Morrison, Hank Williams Jr, Amy Winehouse), physical injury (e.g. Bono, Keith Richards) and even murders (e.g. John Lennon, Sid Vicious) but Western icons have managed to avoid exotic diseases (except perhaps cancer, e,g, Kylie Minogue, Bob Marley, George Harrison).

Until now. Cheryl Cole has malaria and may be starting a trend. Amir Khan, the boxer, has collapsed with the same mystery disease.

No one famous has recently croaked from tuberculosis, syphilis. polio, cholera or a flu epidemic but with global travel increasing and the losing battle against bug evolution means it may just be a matter of time.


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Stepford spies

What could be more American than motherhood and Pavlova cake?

Richard and Cynthia Murphy, Donald Heathfield and Tracey Foley (and six others) seemed to be regular citizens until busted by their incompetence days after an official visit to the US by Russian President Dmitry Medvedev.

It appears that the ten Russian spies were unmasked by the FBI finding a 27-letter password next to a computer disk belonging to one of the group during a secret raid. The FBI then sat back for years listening in to threads of emails and mountains of documents, detailing expense claims that would have given British MPs a run for their money.

And then the American authorities reeled them in, way before any damage was done. The SVR is no KGB.


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Frank Sidebottom: he did it his way

Chris Sievey had an unusual life. Quirkily successful, he died a pauper. He is the only performer I can think of who was much less well-known than his papier-mâché puppet alter ego: Frank Sidebottom.

Frank was way ahead of his time, celebrating the naffness and desperation of celebrity and over-promoting the banal: he, like me, was born and bred in Timperley, Cheshire, and name-dropped the place at every opportunity.

Mr Sievey's originality spawned the careers of Caroline Aherne (Mrs Merton made her debut on Radio Timperley and Frank's Fantastic Shed Show), Chris Evans (erstwhile Sidebottom roadie) and Jon Ronson, and influenced the likes of Graham Fellows and Mark Radcliffe.

News of his death kicked off a viral campaign to pay for the funeral. The tsunami of affection has created a campaign for a posthumous single release (perhaps the mock football anthem 'Three Shirts on my Line') and a possible movie.

If the film ever got made it would have the potential to be a quintessentially mad English indie sensation: 'Born in Timperley', indeed. Fantastic.


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Solent sympathy

When does criticism of a business leader go too far? When the mob sense blood but go for the wrong target.

Tony Hayward, BP CEO, was photographed on his yacht at Cowes on the Isle of Wight taking part in the Round the Island race with his sons.

Yes, he was taking time off. Yes, he was enjoying himself. But surely he'll be all the more refreshed for taking time out before going back to the Deepwater Horizon catastrophe.

And, anyway, Mr Hayward has delegated day-to-day responsibility for the disaster to an American called Robert Dudley, so maybe the US public may react differently to having a fellow countryman in charge of sorting out the mess.


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Heroes on a shirt

There's nothing like an official song to rally the troops: players and fans, alike. Yet for this World Cup, England have nothing like an official song, for the first time since 1966.

Yes, there are musical efforts worthy of Eurovision from the likes of:

• Lightning Seeds-lite, 'Sing your hearts out' by Electric Skies;
• The English Parliament online chart-topper, 'This my dear is England' by a fat tommy in shades representing England fans;
• Pop star African tie-in, 'Waka waka' by Shakira;
• Jumping on the bandwagon, 'For the love of the game' by the Rezza Brothers;
• Even FIFA itself, with K'naan's official anthem.

There are even songs geared to geeing up sportmen in other competitions:

• Martyn Joseph's 'On a Celtic morning' to spur on the 2010 Ryder Cup campaign in Wales;
• Phil Tufnell and the Wooden Urns 'unforgettable' Ian Dury-meets-'Vindaloo' screech backing the 2009 Ashes campaign;
• Rugby Union boasts many perennial songs: 'Cwm Rhondda' and 'Sosban fach' for the Welsh; 'Jerusalem' and 'Swing low, sweet chariot' for the English; 'Molly Malone' for the Irish; and 'Flower of Scotland' for the Scots;
• And theme tunes are instantly recognisable: snooker; darts; Formula 1; cricket; tennis; boxing; etc.

So, it'll be back to the Germans stealing former English anthems at the World Cup, while we get stuffed in the quarter-finals (again).


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