Congratulations creative, CosmoDemonic has promoted you to Creative Director! Now that you’re a CD, you’ll never have to spend another minute in that lonely cube. Say goodbye to the Western Bacon at Carl’s and say hello to $150 lunches. Now before you trade in your ripped jeans for a pair of kakis, you have an important decision to make. What kind of CD are you going to be?
Are you the demanding type? Never satisfied with anything and yet always suspecting that perfection lies just around the corner? Then you may want to be:
The Asshole
You are surrounded by a cloud of misery. People whimper when you scream their names. And you scream a lot.
You always kill the first round of work. And then you blame your team for screwing up. If they deviated from the brief, you yell at them for not listening. If they followed your instructions to the letter, you tell them that they are mindless sheep.
You demand long hours and countless versions. But hey, that’s what it takes to work for a genius like you.
The Outcome: The horrible working conditions mean high turnover and massive disloyalty. Anyone who is good will leave as soon as they can. The result is a constantly changing team of mediocre juniors and terrible midlevels.
End Result: Shitty Creative
Are you a true artists? Do the muses speak to you in hushed whispers? Or do they scream at you all night long? If you believe in ever conspiracy theory, you might want to be:
The Psycho
Nobody knows what you want, especially you. When a job comes around you send your team on a twisted journey down a dark path. Your “instructions” are a collection of random phrases and references to old 1970’s TV shows. Creative briefs? Those are for suits.
When your staff brings you work, you dismiss it with a series of strange, contradictory statements. This goes on for weeks as you explore the elusive nature of the project.
How do you treat your staff? One day you’re their best friend. The next day you’re a psychotic monster.
The Outcome: Riding out a boss’s mood swings can be fun, but after while it gets tiring. And despite the emotional rollercoaster, the lack of any real direction means that the work tends to end up strangely bland.
End Result: Shitty Creative
What is your goal in advertising? Make a lot of money? Do some great creative? Or is it your burning desire to never, ever get laid-off? If that sounds like you, then you may be:
The Mouse
You finally made it to the Creative Director’s office. And now, you will do anything to make sure you never leave it.
You will work hard to make sure you never get blamed for anything. Remember, if you don’t do anything, you can’t do anything wrong. There is no boat you will not not rock. If the client wants blue, blue it is. If they want 20 new headlines by noon, you deliver.
You feel constantly threatened by your staff. Especially the ones who keep coming up with “ideas.” But luckily, those people tent to leave rather quickly.
The Outcome: You win! If they can’t blame you for something, they have no reason to fire you. If your agency loses an account, you are the first to accept a voluntary pay-cut. The only way you’re leaving is inside a coroner’s bag.
End Result: Shitty Creative
3 comments:
hilarious, Beef. And, sadly, too true. I have worked for every one of these types on occassion. And looks like--so have you.
suggested addition:
perhaps you're an idealist creative who believes in the Unifying Big Idea, and you're not willing to sacrifice that once you enter the shiny new CD office. no, you have gumption, and you want to keep to the horse you rode in on. if this sounds like you, you may be:
The Politician
congrats. you made it. starry-eyed and all. but suddenly you have come to realize that the cubicle isolationist movement may have been ideal--not that you'd admit it. now you have to navigate between multiple spheres of infringing insanity on your creative.
not only that, but you have to funnel it, hide the worst of it from your teams, decide how many times you'd like to save their asses, and how many times you feel comfortable saying the word 'no.'
you just want to produce the award winning creative you know you and your team can do, but that's hard when creatives are at odds. closed-door confessionals become additional meetings, where you swear to keep secrets than sometimes slip out of context.
The Outcome: you're fast on your way to becoming a two-faced douchenozzle. no one trusts you. you get down on yourself for spending more time as a pseudo psychologist than actually doing any work. you just want to go home. but chin up: so does everyone else.
Hilarious Girl! I have to find a way to use "two-faced douchenozzle" in my daily conversation.
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