And I say, 'Not really - but there is PR.'
PR, you see, or 'Pointless Rhetoric' is the weaker, more backward, less interesting, uglier, fatter, more hated, less well-endowed, stupider sibling of advertising.
(Not if you're Kate Moss, mind. Not if you're a premium-priced luxury product. Not if you're Jordan's beaver. In those cases, PR is all the fun of the fair, plus the fun of a lot of free booze, international travel and blowjobs in limos. I imagine.)
The rest of the PR world, however, is less fun than getting your dangle-bag waxed while sitting in a bath of lemon juice. To ease the pain of their existence, PR practitioners have devised a series of shortcuts that let them produce work for their clients with minimum effort so they can focus on drinking white wine, smoking and dieting.
1. Use a celebrity.
Ever see Ruth Madoc launch Enema Awareness Week? Ever see Dane Bowers front the campaign to Save Our Semi-Colon? Ever see David Hasselhoff appear as the face of The British Fungal Infection Society? Of course.
Why? Because the kneejerkiest kneejerk of any tired PR pro is to get a celeb (any fucking celeb) to exhange their time and dignity for free booze, a new conservatory or use of the client's villa in Lanzarote for a fortnight.
They promise A-list stars to win the business then, would you believe, everyone is unavailable except the blonde one who came 187th in the Big Brother from 1843. Or Dane Bowers.
2. Make it big.
Find a prop (a cheque, a hat, a dildo - whatever) and make it big.
Make it a big cheque and have the client hand it to someone else. Take a photo. Make it a big hat. Have the client wear it, even if they're the 78-year old author of a new study into the evolution of the gerund clause in Middle English. Take a photo. Make it a big dildo. Have a group of over-70s women to grab it for the launch of Pensioners: Get Wanking, Get Healthy week. Take a photo.
Unless something is big, you see, journalists aren't interested. Possibly because they're drunker than me and simply can't see anything smaller than a horse.
3. Invent your own day.
Did you know that July 17th is National Lip Balm Day? Or that March 12th is National Vaginismus Day? Or that September 3rd is National Hold Hands For Badgers Day? Or that December 9th is National Things That Look Big When You're Far Away But Turn Out To Be Small When You Get To Them Day?
Today, in Britain, every single 24-hours is the National Day of 57,983 causes and counting. The number shows no sign of stopping. To bring the horror of this situation to the public's attention, and to capture the imagination of the press, I propose to name today, December 8th, as No More Fucking National Days Or I'll Make You Eat Your Own Feculence Day.
That's PR done. Maybe next time I'll sort direct mail out. It'll be a piece of piss.
Why? Because I AM THE CLIENT!