This time of year in advertising looks a lot like AMC’s The Walking Dead. We’re all trying to close the door politely on 2016, but urgent briefs keep clamouring against that door like a hoard of walkers crazed by the smell of human blood. I don’t think I have ever gone gently into the good times of holiday. I have always suffered until the very end, still getting scripts approved on December 24, wearing a summer dress and flip-flops. I understand the pressures marketers face. I understand that their backs are up against the wall and that numbers are everything, but compressing a whole bunch of demands into the last two months of the year is just ridiculous. Agencies have to comply, we have to grin and bear it and gain our brownie points, because we are just so scared that the business will be taken away and given to some ad-school reject turned in-house advertising guru. Marketers are afraid. We are afraid. We are all swallowing chunks of deep-fried fear like it is Chicken Licken ho...

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