The Best Marketing is to Not Produce Crap

I don't claim to be an expert on anything. I'm decent at hitting a punchline, probably better than the average hack comedian. I can run fairly fast, again faster than the average jogger pushing a twin stroller with a dalmation by his side. There are a couple things I can say with confidence I just know that others don't quite understand. Kind of like the Time Warner guy who comes and installs your internet. He does this within minutes with unfettered success and now you check your email and include crass remarks within your blog without having an idea where the hell the dude drilled or what cords connect to what. He knows what to do and how to do it, leaving you flabberghasted and yet, extremely satisfied. Are you listening ladies? I'm referring to oral sex.

Nonetheless, the proclamation of expertise is a blurred one to say the least. It's like every other book at the front of a Borders is either from some politician or a self-help 'expert.' Books about making money, picking up women, losing weight, and marketing are, themselves, a beautiful example of the double-edged sword that is capitalism. Producing a product. Marketing that product. Having people buy that product. But do the people get something out of it?

My answer: it depends. I've read several of these books (for free from the pubic library--and yes, my library ironically had the "l" stolen from the front of its building) that seem, at least to the simpleton I may very well be, convoluted information on bringing in complex and unrealistic systems of organization and structure into my daily life. Given I'm sure the reality of implementing this type of advice depends on the person, situation, goals, etc., I can't get around one major main idea that seems to at least be hinted at but rarely called out in many of these books. This main idea: Don't Produce Crap.

Find something you like and get good at it. Work hard and try to work smart. The systems of organization don't make sense to a lot of the people who buy it and/or offer practical implementation techniques. Even if they do, it has to be simpler. Much simpler. They don't need an expert's manual. They need a beginner's manual. We all need beginner's manuals for the things we do most of the time. When we have some talent or are considered at least decent at something, that's when we turn to reference manuals. Not books in pretty hard covers that overpromise, oversell and overmarket (and will often times tell us to do the same thing).

So to all who follow a passion, it is very easy to get caught in the trap of compensating for a lack of skill by overly marketing. In some cases, for the business men and women and comedians, you may make some money and/or become as famous as Bob Saget. But believe it or not, I suspect from a truly outsider's point-of-view, those have there slight downsides. The way to overcome is to produce work that people truly value. That's it. When the product you produce finds value in the hands or heart of others, then reach for that reference book at your local pubic library.

"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." Leonardo DaVinci

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RcDCvQbOdig

I Tea Bagged Ann Coulter

For many a rational American male, it has been a long-time goal to tea bag Ann Coulter. Her controversial and often times hate mongering statements have made her a best-seller on book shelves, on TV and radio, through public speaking, in op-ed pieces in major newspapers, and in the dirty thoughts that often linger in my head.

God, just for one time, could I get with a tall, pretentious blond whom pawns off narrow-minded viewpoints as erudition of the world. I can't put this any other way. Sorry if I offend you. But damn it, I want to have angry sex with Ann Coulter. Just once. In the morning, we'll swing by the Hardees for an Egg and Bacon sandwich and some Minute Maid OJ. And never again will I call her back.

Yesterday, on April 15Th Tax Day, completely unintended by the inner workings of my head...I got one step closer to my dream. Among the hype of the truly grassroots campaign that was the 4/15/09 Tea Party, during my mid-day nap, I tea-bagged Ann Coulter!

While laying in my queen-sized bed I got from two gay guys for free and with CNN playing at a low-to-moderate volume in the background, the word "tea bag" kept creeping into my dreams as they reported on protestors protesting. Something. I think. Another word --because CNN was actually reporting on various FOX News personalities and camera crews to cover the events throughout the country -- "conservative commentators" also crept into my mind.

For some odd reason, the translation that was processed in my cerebral cortex was not of a Lipton tea bag, but of my balls. And instead of imagining various conservative commentators such as Sean Hannity or Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter appeared. And for some reason, in black lingerie.

When my balls and Ann Coulter met, no conversation of any sort ensued. No hot button gay marriage-type issues to argue over. No condemnation on my end for a communication and marketing method of hyping people up by playing into their weaknesses and ignorances simply to make a buck. None of that.

Simply my balls on Ann Coulter. In my dreams, and this is absolutely true, I tea bagged Ann Coulter.

My apologies to Yellowcard for the song follow-up to an Ann Coulter blog...the setting of this song (and the title) are in my hometown, Jax, FL:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFmdjvR1bYI