The Story of PResident Foo
The rumors, the gossip & the truth
This is how it started…
President Foo is a collective of dissident designers who escaped from the dungeons of the AmazeTheWorld team. -we still abuse their website host though-
None of us actually remember how we got stuck in the AmazeTheWorld universe. There were rumours about a lime green vortex sucking us out of our reality. Some claim it were spies from some hostile worldwide non-governemental organisation. Others said that a women in a red dress must have put something in their drink while they were dancing on the tables at the Tijuana bar in Aachen.
Either way, we ended up in a large purple hall full of drawing boards, ancient Macintosh computers and Bic ballpoints. In the corners of the hall pale and thin pea-shaped creatures tried to hide behind the IKEA Billy bookcases they were forced to use as desks. Their cold black eyes stared at the golden gate which seemed to be the only entrance to the hall. Crackling a chirping the gate opened. A foul and grey mist crawled in the hall. From the mist the shapes of four humans appeared. One of them, a sturdy bald guy, introduced himself as the Owner. The other just shouted that they were Amaze the World. This already occurred as an amazing fact to me since they didn’t look that special at all. However there was something in their voices that seemed to subdue everyone in the room. Before we realised what was going on, they had us designing stuff (well, mainly t-shirts).
Days passed in the purple hall like oceanwaves on the sandy beach of a small island that was used as a nuclear testsite. Every morning we got some stale bread with marmelade and a big pot of coffee. Then we needed to design until late in the evening when they would serves us spaghetti bolognese. Every other Thursday the bald guy would bring leftovers of his self baked black-forrest gateau. In the evening we were forced to watch re-runs of the Belorussian version of temptation island.
Some mornings we noticed that one or two of the pale black-eyed peas had disappeared. Stephanie and Sophie were convinced that they had escaped. But Karl-Heinz and Arend knew better. Hym claimed that he had seen a gigantic gripper descending from the ceiling to take away the designers that had collapsed. Just like the grippers from those machines on fancy fairs and casino’s they would drop the bodies a couple of times before the finally got them.
Not looking forward to what would happen to me after a gripper had taken me, (would we be given to some giant child as a toy?), I decided I needed to do something. On a Wednesday morning, just before the feeding of the hippopotami, I gathered a group of the most wonderful and special designers. We expressed our bold intention to break out of this slavery. The combination of all this life experience, youthful enthusiasm en unbridled creativity lead to a ingenious and failsafe escape plan. The next day we walked to the golden gate, pushed it open and left the purple hall.
There was no stopping us now. We crossed the blue hall, the red room, the yellow stairway. We halted at the orange bathroom for a sanitary break. We ended up on the white balcony next to the computer room. There we started our own business. And that is what your are looking at right now.
— President Foo