The Perfection of Imperfection and My Dad is Kato

When I was at college some bloke had written a rather clever dissertation entitled The Perfection of Imperfection.

He was led to write it by, of all things, the death of Peter Sellers. While obituaries mourned Sellers' wasted comedy genius, he felt that there was something strangely wonderful about the fact he had all that potential but never really fulfilled it.

It's a funny concept to get your head around. When you think about it, there are a zillion instances of the perfection of imperfection. It's in the wobbly beauty of a Jeff Buckley demo, the mad energy of a Constable oil sketch, or the strange allure of my unusually flat butt.

I started to write a thoughtful treatise on the power of perceived imperfections in a piece of writing or design. But it started feeling a bit too much like hard work. And anyway you wouldn’t read it would you?

You’d skip straight down to the Pink Panther clips, right?

Let's do us both a favour then and just imagine it's here:










(I know I know it wouldn't actually be that long.)



On a separate note, my dad had a Kato-like penchant for hiding in cupboards in his dressing gown and pouncing out and scaring the crap out of my brother.



Just one of the ways my dad is a comedy genius.