Many years ago, when I first started to work in the advertising industry, we used to have this thing called The Overnight Test. It worked like this: My creative partner Laurence and I would spend the day covering A2 sheets torn from layout pads with ideas for whatever project we were currently engaged upon – an ad for a new gas oven, tennis racket or whatever. Scribbled headlines. Bad puns. Stick-men drawings crudely rendered in fat black Magic Marker. It was a kind of brain dump I suppose. Everything that tumbled out of our heads and mouths was committed to paper. Anything completely ridiculous, irrelevant or otherwise unworkable was filtered out as we worked, and by beer 'o' clock there would be an impressive avalanche of screwed-up paper filling the corner of the room where our comically undersized waste-bin resided.
On a productive day, aside from the mountain of dead trees (recycling hadn't been invented in 1982), stacked polystyrene coffee cups and an overflowing ash-tray, there