Select Page
Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Pryce

Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Pryce

Proprietary Creative Process

May 25, 1965

 

Phantom Punch

Your content goes here. Edit or remove this text inline or in the module Content settings. You can also style every aspect of this content in the module Design settings and even apply custom CSS to this text in the module Advanced settings.

Creative Ideation

Your content goes here. Edit or remove this text inline or in the module Content settings. You can also style every aspect of this content in the module Design settings and even apply custom CSS to this text in the module Advanced settings.

Christmas Present

Samsonite: A hard case. 

Patent Granted

Moments before the phantom punch was thrown, patent 3,185912 was granted.  The apparatus rectified direct current power and provided the means for effecting control of the firing angles of the rectifiers.  One of the inventors of this controlled power supply recorder was my father, Donald F. Cleary.

Christmas Past

Your content goes here. Edit or remove this text inline or in the module Content settings. You can also style every aspect of this content in the module Design settings and even apply custom CSS to this text in the module Advanced settings.

A Fine Messier Mess

A Fine Messier Mess

Black Hole Revealed

On April 10, 2019, scientists unveiled an image of a supermassive black hole. Resembling a circular void surrounded by a lopsided ring of light, this is the world’s first glimpse of a black hole’s silhouette; a picture that creeps right up to the inescapable edge of the black hole’s maw.

 

No one really knows what, if anything, is at the core of a black hole.

Thar She Blows

Thar She Blows

Call me Trishmael.

Some years ago — never mind how long precisely — having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation.

Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off–then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.