Goldfinger

I’ve decided to dedicate this week’s topic to BPM Blogging.
I’d like to persuade more people in the BPM industry to start their own blog. It’s fun, motivating and mind-opening.
Writing a blog forces you to rethink your view on a subject, articulate your thoughts.

The blog gives you a voice.
Your opinion, no matter your title, your experience, your age, your gender… People will read your post.
If it’s any good they will continue to follow your blog.
If it’s just marketing mumble jumble, people stop following.

The power of the written word is usually underestimated.

My theme for this week’s blogs is “James Bond”, so I’ll give an example from my neighbourhood.
The moral of the following story is “Never pick a fight with someone with a pen…”

I’ve just moved out of London.
I used to live on willow road, Hampstead.
Hampstead is a lovely area. Hampstead Heath park is on the other side of the street.
Some of my most creative ideas were born there, whilst walking through the park.

The house on willow road was an old Victorian house. 260 years old. A house with character…
It still has a lights panel to inform the servants living below that the master of the house requires their services…

In 1939, an architect bought a property on 2 willow road and decided to transform it into a “modern house”.
A number of cottages needed to be demolished to allow for the construction, which was strongly opposed by a number of local residents including one of the neighbours – a writer by the name of Ian Fleming (better known for his James Bond 007 novels)

The neighbourhood was in up in arms. Why would anyone want to build an ugly concrete modernist house in the middle of a peaceful pretty neighbourhood.
In the end, the architect won the court case, tore down the old houses and built this ugly monstrosity (today a National Trust..)

So the architect managed to find a loophole and beat the system. Nothing new here…
No one would of cared about this silly architect. He would of faded into history unknown and unfamed.

Fate has it that he managed to annoy a person with a pen.
You see, Flemming never forgave the architect for building that atrocity on our street, and decided to immortalise him as a villain in his book.

The architect’s name by the way was… Ernő Goldfinger