I like it when I come across an illustration that communicates near-instantly, and permanently. Most reasonably well-informed people would ‘know’ this:
But I suspect most will grasp and hold it more clearly and for longer having seen it presented so clearly and engagingly.
Came across a couple of crackers recently. First, the very-much-alive ‘dead as a doornail’, an expression which:
“… can be traced back to 1350, but could be even older. In the days before screws were commonly used in carpentry, nails secured one piece of wood to another. Unlike screws however, nails could often loosen over a period of time. To prevent this, it became common practice, particularly on large medieval doors, that when a nail was hammered through the wood it would be flattened or clinched on the inside. The process of flattening the nail would mean that the nail would be ‘dead’ as it couldn’t be used again.”
The other – “like cheese at fourpence” – which I hadn’t even come across, being a soft southerner, but which is apparently very much in everyday use in its homeland:
‘…the mill towns of Lancashire, where fourpence was considered expensive for cheese, so cheese at that price would not be bought.’ So, say, a woman whose date failed to show up: “He left me standing there like cheese at fourpence”.”
One hates to grumble but…
Amidst the slew of recent accusations levelled at Facebook over its (alleged) stoking of the fires of teen angst, I couldn’t help but grimace at
‘super tragic’? Please. With two daughters I am very much alert to the pressures of social media life, but won’t somebody please give a thought to the feelings of us gnarled old literary fellers?
…was the title – and theme for that matter – I came up with for a brochure for a design/branding company many moons ago. It still seems to me a perfect encapsulation of the key challenge facing any would-be communicator: to initiate a two-way process. Where you take that process comes next…
It was brought back to mind recently when I logged off a Zoom call to be confronted with:
This picture, featuring just 31 words (who needs ’em) isn’t one-way communication. It’s inherently relational; it invites you in. You have to figure it out. (Who can resist a puzzle?) And it’s intuitive enough that you can’t not. You engage. That’s the whole ball game right there.
It’s the old door to door salesman’s foot in the door. “D’you mind if I use your bathroom?”
Then it’s just a matter of
- Hook – “Magic quadrant”?
- Line – Zoom: a Leader
- Sinker – © Gartner, inc.
The upshot, Zoom deliver the payload of their message direct to your brain: Gartner say we’re one of the top three (and none of the others matters).
Installing a new HD in my PC I idly browsed some of the 11,781 images I seem to have accumulated in my Pictures folder…I’m guessing this is from an ancient Grauniad letters page…
Re-reading Eric Newby’s ‘Short walk in the Hindu Kush’ put me in a travel-writing frame of mind, so I shamelessly grabbed a Bill Bryson off the shelves. Never lets you down. Here he is on the Henry Ford museum in Dearborn, Michigan, which is
…filled with the most indescribable assortment of stuff – machinery, railway trains, refrigerators, Abraham Lincoln’s rocking-chair, the limousine in which John F. Kennedy was killed (nope, no bits of brain on the floor), George Washington’s campaign chest, General Tom Thumb’s ornate miniature billiard-table, a bottle containing Thomas Edison’s last breath. I found this last item particularly captivating. Apart from being ridiculously morbid and sentimental, how did they know which breath was going to be Edison’s last one? I pictured Henry Ford standing at the death-bed shoving a bottle in his face over and over and saying, ‘Is that it?’
Going through the user guide for my new Chromebook, it’s immediately apparent just how far the world of corporate copy has come from the stilted, strangulated officialese that disfigured the language for so long.
‘you get the gist’….’other stuff’….excellent. Clarity, simplicity, a human voice. It took awhile, but vacuous polysyllabic pomposity seems at last to be on the retreat.