Author: Martyn Jones

Martyn Rhisiart Jones

Madrid, Wednesday 6th May 2026

THE SEMIOTICS OF THE ABYSS: WHY EVERY CHIEF EXTRACTION OFFICER NEEDS A BRAINVACUUM™ PROTOCOL

“The most expensive sequence of vowels I have ever been forced to endure.” – Kenny Meh

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By Barnaby Squelch-Toad (Founding Partner at ShiteLogic™)

(Imagine, if you will, a man standing on a stage. He is wearing a suit that costs more than your house, but it’s tailored to make him look like a trendy geography teacher who’s just had a nervous breakdown in a Muji. He is pacing. He is doing that thing with his hands, the “invisible accordion”, that all these “thought leaders” do. This is the prose equivalent of that man.)

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Martyn Rhisiart Jones

Madrid, Wednesday 6th May 2026

Title: Why Every CEO Needs a ‘VoidLogic’ Strategy (Or: How to Successfully Set Your Building on Fire While Smiling for a Headshot)

By Barnaby Sludge (Disruption Architect, Thought-Gland Inflator, and Professional Vapor-Salesman)

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THE LIVERPOOL SCREAM (In the style of ‘The Fat Scouser’)

Listen to me, you tight-suited, Peloton-humping, organic-kale-smoothie-shitting sacks of corporate offal! I was walking past a boardroom the other day, a room so full of expensive air and low-level sociopathy it’s technically classified as a vacuum, and I saw a CEO. A man whose only contribution to the human race is deciding which shade of “Grey Despair” to paint the staff toilets.

And what was he doing? He was crying! He was weeping hot, salty tears into his gold-plated iPad because he didn’t have a VoidLogic strategy!

He’s terrified! He’s heard the buzzwords! “Generative Rectification!” “Algorithmic Synergy!” He doesn’t know what they mean, but he knows if he doesn’t buy them, the other boys at the Yacht Club will laugh at his small, non-AI-integrated genitals! It’s a con, you clowns! It’s the digital equivalent of selling a magic bean to a man who’s already sold his house to buy a specialised bean-holding glove! It’s Barnaby Sludge, standing there in a suit made of woven press releases, shouting, “Give me your money, or the computer will come to your house and eat your pension!”

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Sir Afilonius Rex and the Good Strat Skunkworks Team

New York, Monday 4th May 2026

When your military strategy is a war crime, and your diplomatic capital is sub-zero, you don’t change course; you simply flood the digital commons with enough AI-generated slurry to drown the scream of reality. From the “Gaza Model” to the rebranding of mass murder as “target-rich urban rejuvenation,” we examine the masterclass in moral arbitrage currently being shat into your feed by the world’s most expensive, sweaty, and terrified propaganda machine.

Listen, you have to admire the sheer, unadulterated gall of it. We are currently witnessing a masterclass in what I like to call “Moral Liquidity Arbitrage.” The Hasbara machine hasn’t just been ratcheted up; it’s been fitted with a nitro-boosted, AI-driven engine and launched into a brick wall of reality at two hundred miles an hour.

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Martyn Rhisiart Jones

Madrid, Sunday 2nd May 2026

While you were busy doing a real job, the world’s most expensive LinkedIn notification has been rebranding your impending redundancy as a “growth mindset opportunity.” It’s time to stop listening to a man who thinks “Vibe Coding” is a professional skill and start seeing the “AI Divide” for what it truly is: a desperate, corporate protection racket designed by a “futurist” who couldn’t predict a sunset unless it was written in a $500 whitepaper.

Listen, before we start, let’s just take a moment to look at the word “Futurist.” What is a “Futurist”? In the old days, a futurist was a mentalist in a silver jumpsuit who thought we’d all be eating pill-form roast dinners while commuting to a moon colony via jetpack. Now, it’s just a title for a man in a sharp suit who’s managed to monetise the act of stating the fucking obvious with the hollow conviction of a cult leader selling “ascension” for forty quid a month.

And here he is. Banal Merde. A man who looks like he was synthesized in a lab from the DNA of a LinkedIn “Top Voice” and a wet cardboard box.

His latest piece of career-advice-slop, “The New AI Career Divide,” is the kind of breathless, sycophantic corporate fan-fiction that makes you want to go and live in a cave and communicate only through the medium of throwing stones at consultants.

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