As compound adjectives go...

As compound adjectives go 'unintelligent' is one of the more polite ones which comes to mind most often followed speedily by an expletive whilst walking around Soho battling through tourists, drunks and protein-shake fuelled baldies desperately trying to look tough in a Ralph Lauren skin tight pink cashmere. I don't claim to be a genius, to be honest I don't even consider myself to be above average and have been quite happy to bumble along through life enjoying a fair amount of luck to get me where I am.

However its days such as today which leave me wondering how the Stupid People survive? I do see the need for health and safety and refuse to squeeze the fuel pump of Clarkson’s turbo-charged bandwagon in condoning it however I’m also of the belief that by making our lives too safe we have in fact stopped The Stupids from being weeded out and removed from the DNA pool.

A colleague who I approached about this earlier today pointed out the possibility that these 'people' might be in fact the clever ones amongst us having survived for so long. Without wanting to chant the 'cleanse society' far right mantra, I disagreed as they have not been cleaver, rather saved and cushioned by a cotton wool society leaving them free to impose their unavoidable acts of foolishness and frustrating behaviour on those of us who do know better.

Elaboration on what has triggered this rant is unnecessary as I am sure it will only serve to further feed my anger. However rest assured the next person who imposes their stupidness upon me or enters my vicinity attempting to disprove Darwin’s 1859 revelations on evolution where we are supposed to have left behind ‘monkey-logic’ will receive a firm kick in the shins. Be warned Soho.

On a lighter note over the past few months I have been doing my bit to maintain Britain's status in the global hierarchy and challenge China, the US and India at the whole carbon footprint thing by flying up to Scotland - cold, wet and gray, across to Madrid - warm, sexy and full of things I want to grab and wafting, via 1st class Euro Star bubbles, to Paris.

This City of Lights and grumpy post-Napoleonic Parisians was teaming with beautiful moody young nymphs on the metro dressed in long tweed frock coats, creased white Darcy flowing shirts and black scuffed pointed shoes. Paris, as ever, lived up to all my expectations. The only downside of these adventures has been the side effect of filling O’Leary's pockets as we scramble aboard a RyanAir flight and my utter lack of blogging. Apologies, must try harder.

I’m always amazed at how the Scottish are often portrayed as a welcoming race. Within minuets of touching down at Aberdeen airport and being herded through Control I was greeted by a red faced, red haired and red tempered haggis of a Scott who ran me down with his mobile suitcase and then proceeded in threatening to punch me after I ‘accidentally’ de-railed it sending it skidding across the floor. Scottish charm, what an amazing oxymoron.

Madrid was a Christmas escape and whilst raining for the majority of the visit the place was so full of denim-clad, black haired boys with brown puppy dog eyes that it seemed unavoidable to feel warm and fuzzy. Even the ‘authentic’ English pub on the Puerta del Sol added to the air of charm. Being happy to adopt the ‘dodgy Spanish’ mentality we left after drinking our fill without paying the bill. New Year’s Eve saw La Tour Eiffel sparkle. Filled with perfect memories, good food, a cornucopia of art and architecture mixed in with a dreamlike bath for two and a bottle of extremely drinkable wine. It was the perfect escape from everything.

Every time I travel mid-air with my headphones in and the ipod chanting in stereo I find myself drift off to thoughts of sex and driving fast cars, sometimes at the same time, sometimes separately, sometimes one precedes the other but always dominating is a soundtrack made up from base-induced tunes. One such fantasy combines a black Mercedes-Benz S600L being driven at speed, privacy glass keeping the stupids out but maintaining enough visibility to ensure a thrill. The faint outlines of passing cars shadow by, a cocoon of soft electronically warmed leather and polished walnut, a motorway lit sporadically by the pulse of an overhead orange glow and, of course, company filling both my glass and well.....

In all probability this series of daydream images stem from Duran Duran's erotically charged 'The Chauffeur' and it’s accompanying music video beautifully shot in black and white with a theme of nudity, soft abstract sex and a chauffeur driven car. No wonder Andy Warhol, responding to a reporter on Duran Duran, admitted he "masturbate(s) to Duran Duran videos."

After my recent rediscovery of this '84 classic via YouTube, the desire to create my own beautiful images overwhelmed me and thanks to a skilfully wrapped Nikon gifted at Christmas I have become the most avid voyeur documenting everyone and everything around me, paying homage to the music video which left such a lasting impression.

Flickr, Facebook and friends, both virtual and those in the real world, have all been filled with my monochrome keepsakes. Captured via a digital map and brought to life through careful cropping and subtle use of Photoshop, if only everything in life was so easy to manipulate and beautify. Stupids and ugliness would cease. A pre-Jove Saturn would regain his rule and the Golden Age would replace the Silver. Idyllic but probably, ultimately dull.

Thankfully photography has moved on from my time as a Fine Art student. No more barbaric exposure of photosensitive film to a blast of light, dark rooms tinted red filled with formaldehyde fumes and yellowed fingernails from testing strips and dipping baths. Instead my image cleanly glides through the lens and morphs into an electric charge enjoying a game of photon-dodgems instantaneously meshing to become a digital bookmark.

Even Einstein’s 1905 paper drew attention to this beautiful process, all be it well in advance of the digital camera. It was indeed an Annus Mirabilis when the photoelectric effect came into the light and one which created a process which is going to serve as my next project, a Spring and Summer of digital replication and beautification.