There are times I hate social media. It’s never the tool itself but the ravenous tugging at the cool tool-du-jour’s carcass by the various vultures surrounding it.
Twitter is one such carcass – a fleshy one, but it’s still being picked over nonetheless.
Some awful twaddle is being talked about Twitter, but when I saw this headline in The Guardian this morning I didn’t know whether to hurl or hurl my monitor. Continue reading →
Great Facebook marketing campaigns are rare. And a big brand responsible for a quality social media effort is even rarer.
Last week, Burger King rolled out their Whopper Sacrifice application on Facebook. The user simply had to get rid of ten friends via the application and they’d receive a free Whopper. Each friend you chose had their profile picture burnt in front of your very eyes before they were notified that they’d been part of a flame grilled sacrifice in your quest for a 1$ Whopper.
By now you’ve probably heard the story about Lois Feldman. If not, here’s a quick recap:
Lois was arrested for doing her Humpty Hump (of Digital Underground fame) Burger King bathroom impression in the stall of a public bathroom at a college football game recently. That’s pretty embarrasing, especially in today’s internet age.
President-elect Barack Obama to have his Blackberry-induced smile wiped off his face?
The world is made up of two types of people – those who think Barack Obama is the Messiah, and those who think he’s a very naughty boy. In amongst that lot are a curious group of Web 2.0 evangelists who think the election was really a win for social media.
This past couple of weeks has been the best of times, but it’s also been the worst of times. I foolhardily coordinated our move back up round Cleveland the same weekend I left for England to go and surprise my Gran for her 90th. Yet it takes somebody who bleeds idiot or has serious luck issues to rent a 24 foot U-Haul truck that has a zombie battery, locks their keys in the trunk, misses flights, spends an exorbitant amount one way to get to their connecting flight only for it to be canceled on arrival, and has their laptop screen broken.
I get a little bit peeved at my lifelong insistence on jazzing up the mundane to heart attack proportions, but all in all I’m quite Zen about stuff going wrong or right. Fists pummeling dashboards is nothing more than a meditative chi release.
This morning, Justin accused me of being a bit short on the old handle. Or more short-tempered than usual.
I find this shocking for the fact that I like to think of myself as somewhat a-motional. (I know theoretically that means I don’t move around much, and I don’t, but a-emotional is far too clumsy and has me mentally over-exerting my jaw muscles just thinking about saying it.)
I think I may be over-compensating for any excitement about moving back up Cleveland way (don’t you be getting too excited, I shall be telecommuting) and going on vacation back to England on my own for a couple of weeks.
I often make analogies to flushing things down the toilet. Often times those analogies are about money, so that’s how I know I’ve gotten old. That and when younger employees like Derrick call me old.
Well, I went and darn near did flush something down the toilet this week. You see, I read in my Blackberry manual this week that it’s best to wash regularly for optimal performance, so I threw it in the toilet while giving my kids a bath. Then I went back and re-read the manual. Turns out it actually said, “never submerge me, you goofball”. You can see why I got confused though.
My cell phone is now dead and I am going through withdrawals worse than when they stopped showing Charles in Charge reruns.
…after being explained the intricacies of Twitter said, of a tweet’s 140 character posting limit, “Is that per month?”
a) My lovely wife, Stephanie.
b) Ms. Riley, the world’s oldest blogger, who died this weekend at the age of 108.
c) An old chum I met on facebook recently who asked what Google was when replying to what I said I did for a living.
d) Me.
Now I’m convinced the higher ups at WVU and in West Virginia State government are reading my blog and attending our Next Generation Marketing conferences.
I’m not going to go through the whole spiel again, but be aware that this article is written in a non-biased fashion meant to take a deeper look at the Heather Bresch pr crisis from an academic standpoint. Careful readers should be able to learn several ways to combat their own bad press.
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