Thursday, February 22, 2007
Fun with AdSense
As some might have noticed. I have AdSense ads at the bottom of this blog. I have done this strictly for the absurdist-surrealist poetry that only contextual ads can create. For instance when I type in the phrase Nazi Sex Midgets, the ads below will search for phrases to match their ads to. It might be that phrase. It'll be interesting to find out.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Viewing Religion from a Marketing Standpoint.
Today, I"m in a rambling and philosophical frame of mind. Perhaps its our new Chinese New Year - the Year of the (Golden) Pig, or that we just entered Pisces. Regardless, here's what is bouncing off the inner portions of my Parietal Bones.
Consider religion from the vantage point of marketing. We can take Christianity in its many flavors and step away from the Faith/Emotionally-based aspects of this religion look at it from a marketing/sales perspective. It makes me admire the whole religion business. (As some of you might know, many of my ancestors were preachers - they couldn't resist the light work load).
Tangents aside, a select group of people (priests/preachers) have convinced a bunch of other people (church goers) that two unseen, unfelt, unheard entities (God vs. Devil) are battling over something that these people may or may not have (a Soul). Think about that for a moment. Talk about selling something that is extremely intangible! In fact, the primary usage of the product (salvation) cannot be used until the buyer is dead. Its really amazing to think about. I mean no one really needed a "My Puppy Puddles", but at least you had a tangible product that you could fill full of water and red food dye and redecorate the furniture with.
The architects of this amazing marketing plan had big upsell plans with their loyal customers. Through the use of repetition and perhaps a bit of intimidation, the marketers (preachers) coral their customers (congregation) into their store (church) every Sunday, tell them the same stories over and over again (all of which are designed to enhance customer confidence and satisfaction with their purchase). Many of these preachers collect a weekly subscription for their add-on services. While some more ambitious sellers/preachers are on the TV/Internet collecting their dues and subscriptions that way.
The marketers have a wonderful ad campaign against their competitors, reluctant and/or non-interested buyers. They simply inform them (usually with much feeling) that they will burn in a place called "Hell" for "Eternity". Wow, now that's some sales pressure. You thought the car salespeople are bad... nothing in comparison to these cats!
Those in the Christian branch of the religion business consistently refer to their sales book (Bible) which contains a great deal of circular logic (i.e. The book is the word of God, while being written by a group of men. Since God doesn't seem to make the daily rounds here on Earth, the buyers are asked to have "faith"). Another brilliant marketing plan.
Summary
Consider religion from the vantage point of marketing. We can take Christianity in its many flavors and step away from the Faith/Emotionally-based aspects of this religion look at it from a marketing/sales perspective. It makes me admire the whole religion business. (As some of you might know, many of my ancestors were preachers - they couldn't resist the light work load).
Tangents aside, a select group of people (priests/preachers) have convinced a bunch of other people (church goers) that two unseen, unfelt, unheard entities (God vs. Devil) are battling over something that these people may or may not have (a Soul). Think about that for a moment. Talk about selling something that is extremely intangible! In fact, the primary usage of the product (salvation) cannot be used until the buyer is dead. Its really amazing to think about. I mean no one really needed a "My Puppy Puddles", but at least you had a tangible product that you could fill full of water and red food dye and redecorate the furniture with.
The architects of this amazing marketing plan had big upsell plans with their loyal customers. Through the use of repetition and perhaps a bit of intimidation, the marketers (preachers) coral their customers (congregation) into their store (church) every Sunday, tell them the same stories over and over again (all of which are designed to enhance customer confidence and satisfaction with their purchase). Many of these preachers collect a weekly subscription for their add-on services. While some more ambitious sellers/preachers are on the TV/Internet collecting their dues and subscriptions that way.
The marketers have a wonderful ad campaign against their competitors, reluctant and/or non-interested buyers. They simply inform them (usually with much feeling) that they will burn in a place called "Hell" for "Eternity". Wow, now that's some sales pressure. You thought the car salespeople are bad... nothing in comparison to these cats!
Those in the Christian branch of the religion business consistently refer to their sales book (Bible) which contains a great deal of circular logic (i.e. The book is the word of God, while being written by a group of men. Since God doesn't seem to make the daily rounds here on Earth, the buyers are asked to have "faith"). Another brilliant marketing plan.
Summary
- Buy Product (Salvation) = Product promised to be delivered upon death (product sold AS-IS, no warranties or guarantees provided).
- Product Reinforcement (Weekly Church) with Upsell (Tithing).
- Intensive Marketing Campaign provides potential customers with wonderful product promises and horrifying consequences for those who don't purchase Soul Insurance.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
How DSB Helped Me Escape Jury Duty, Part II
So, once I entered the generic "Anytown, USA" court room, I was joined by the 30 other jury selectees, many of them left standing due to the lack of seating. As the tears of boredom still flowed freely the Plaintiff and the Defendant entered the room along with their accompanying attorneys. It was the Plaintiff's attorney that caught my attention. She was H O T!!! Muchas Calore!!
This Attorney who's name is Elvia, was a beautiful Latina, dressed to the nines in a dark blue pin-stripe business suit. She had sweet and confident manner about her, very pretty eyes. As many lovely Latinas often do, she had monster booty - almost in the Jennifer Lopez category (before she got thin and scary). Seeing as I'm the Booty Monster (inspired no doubt by Sesame Street's Cookie Monster, my reaction to monster booty is not unlike the Cookie Monsters reaction to cookies. Q.E.D.) and I've got a wicked case of DSB (Deadly Sperm Buildup - That's a true Zettaism folks), I was instantly in lust.
The attorney for the defendant was doing a Portland-Style Power/Gothic/Dragon Lady thang, and was dressed in all black, very pale skin, black fingernails, with black "mushroom head" hair (ala the secretary from Dilbert). Both were wearing impressive-sized wedding rings. I had the feeling they were real diamonds there.
So, final verdict for the Defendant's Lawyer: Scary; Plaintiff's Lawyer: Hottie!
We were asked a number of questions by each lawyer. The hot Latina lawyer asked questions if the use of interpreters (the defendant was Spanish speaking) was going to be a problem for each juror. There were some filthy racists there. This one woman in particular said that the defendant should speak English and she couldn't, then she had no business being in a court room. I was so ready to cut some brake lines or slash some tires after hearing that crap. Alas, my more pacifist side won out. When I was asked, I of course indicated that I was just fine with the use of interpreters as I often used them in medical practice as my Spanish is "muy mal". The conversation went something like this:
(Totally Hot Latina Lawyer aka THLL):"Oh, you speak Spanish, eh?"
Me: "Oh, just a bit."
THLL: "Any Spanish classes in school?"
Me: 2 Years in Jr. High, a year in High School, about 6 months at a Community College, and Telemundo."
THLL: "Telemundo?" She said with a raised eyebrow.
Me: "Yes, I watch Telemundo"
THLL: "And, what exactly do you watch on Telemundo?"
Me: "The soap operas... er, well the beautiful women really..."
At this point the courtroom erupts in laughter, the Judge shakes his head in a "why me" manner, the Lawyer gives me a little smile, and I'm feeling a bit veklempt in nether region. The plaintiff ( a pleasant, but not partially attractive) Latina is winking at me, while the racist old bitty is giving me the evil eye. I send it back with a cosmic wedgie. That'll show her. The attorney for the defense is looking at me in a way that has weighed and measured me down to the last ounce. The best option at this point is give her one of those infuriating Eddie Haskel grins. After the questioning is finished on both sides, the Attorneys and the Judge step into his chambers to complete the jury selection. Not before the Judge gives me one of those Old Testament looks. I was expect lightening or a good, sound smoting with a look like that.
They return and read the list of the final jurists, and surprise, I'm not on it. Strangely enough the nasty old racist b--ch was, plus the weird twitchy guy in the corner. He'll probably help keep people awake with his fidgeting.
So, that is one way to get out of jury duty, be hot for one (or both) of the attorneys. If that didn't work I was ready to blow kisses at the judge. Probably would of got contempt of court...
This Attorney who's name is Elvia, was a beautiful Latina, dressed to the nines in a dark blue pin-stripe business suit. She had sweet and confident manner about her, very pretty eyes. As many lovely Latinas often do, she had monster booty - almost in the Jennifer Lopez category (before she got thin and scary). Seeing as I'm the Booty Monster (inspired no doubt by Sesame Street's Cookie Monster, my reaction to monster booty is not unlike the Cookie Monsters reaction to cookies. Q.E.D.) and I've got a wicked case of DSB (Deadly Sperm Buildup - That's a true Zettaism folks), I was instantly in lust.
The attorney for the defendant was doing a Portland-Style Power/Gothic/Dragon Lady thang, and was dressed in all black, very pale skin, black fingernails, with black "mushroom head" hair (ala the secretary from Dilbert). Both were wearing impressive-sized wedding rings. I had the feeling they were real diamonds there.
So, final verdict for the Defendant's Lawyer: Scary; Plaintiff's Lawyer: Hottie!
We were asked a number of questions by each lawyer. The hot Latina lawyer asked questions if the use of interpreters (the defendant was Spanish speaking) was going to be a problem for each juror. There were some filthy racists there. This one woman in particular said that the defendant should speak English and she couldn't, then she had no business being in a court room. I was so ready to cut some brake lines or slash some tires after hearing that crap. Alas, my more pacifist side won out. When I was asked, I of course indicated that I was just fine with the use of interpreters as I often used them in medical practice as my Spanish is "muy mal". The conversation went something like this:
(Totally Hot Latina Lawyer aka THLL):"Oh, you speak Spanish, eh?"
Me: "Oh, just a bit."
THLL: "Any Spanish classes in school?"
Me: 2 Years in Jr. High, a year in High School, about 6 months at a Community College, and Telemundo."
THLL: "Telemundo?" She said with a raised eyebrow.
Me: "Yes, I watch Telemundo"
THLL: "And, what exactly do you watch on Telemundo?"
Me: "The soap operas... er, well the beautiful women really..."
At this point the courtroom erupts in laughter, the Judge shakes his head in a "why me" manner, the Lawyer gives me a little smile, and I'm feeling a bit veklempt in nether region. The plaintiff ( a pleasant, but not partially attractive) Latina is winking at me, while the racist old bitty is giving me the evil eye. I send it back with a cosmic wedgie. That'll show her. The attorney for the defense is looking at me in a way that has weighed and measured me down to the last ounce. The best option at this point is give her one of those infuriating Eddie Haskel grins. After the questioning is finished on both sides, the Attorneys and the Judge step into his chambers to complete the jury selection. Not before the Judge gives me one of those Old Testament looks. I was expect lightening or a good, sound smoting with a look like that.
They return and read the list of the final jurists, and surprise, I'm not on it. Strangely enough the nasty old racist b--ch was, plus the weird twitchy guy in the corner. He'll probably help keep people awake with his fidgeting.
So, that is one way to get out of jury duty, be hot for one (or both) of the attorneys. If that didn't work I was ready to blow kisses at the judge. Probably would of got contempt of court...
Genital Discrimination at Office Depot!
Well, I'm a bit miffed. I keep hearing that size doesn't count, but apparently to the advertising department at Office Depot it does! Today I received an email from Office Depot with the subject "Huge Member Savings"... Being me, I fired off this reply email:
Dear Size Queens,
Does the savings extend to those of us less generously endowed?
Yours etc,
Mr. TeenyWeeny.
I'll be interested to get a response from the corporate team.
Dear Size Queens,
Does the savings extend to those of us less generously endowed?
Yours etc,
Mr. TeenyWeeny.
I'll be interested to get a response from the corporate team.
Monday, February 12, 2007
How DSB Helped Me Escape Jury Duty
About three weeks ago, I had the dreaded Jury Duty day. It was a Thursday as I recall; I never could get the hang of Thursdays. As I was required to be at the County Courthouse at 7:30 am, I found myself stumbling my way through my morning routine 2 hours earlier than usual. Deciding that public transportation was the most practical means of getting downtown, I began my Urban Warrior Trek to this civic duty.
The bus ride was a typically early morning Portland experience; mostly sleepy office drones making their way to their giant metal and glass hives downtown to pollinate yet another stack of (ultimately) useless paperwork. As required by some obscure city ordinance there was the very loud, and most likely mentally handicapped person who sat in the front seat opposite the driver talking about the sad inanities that matter most to such folk. Half asleep I caught loud ranting phrases such as "...Ella, she's tough, she won't let them get away..." from our friend up front. Looking out a foggy window sitting next to a TPL (Typical Portland Lesbian), I finally found my stop, entered the county courthouse and suffered through the Paranoid Security Renaissance that has swept our nation and has cops everywhere whistling a merry tune as they frisk you and examine your "papers" [add your best Soviet Block Accent here].
Surviving the security's evil eye, I wandered into the Jury Duty room. To its credit they do have comfy chairs to sit in. There were about 120 damned souls suffering through some "Fair and Balanced" fox "news" show. It was there I waited, and waited, read about 20 magazines, and waited, check out the women, and waited... rinse and repeat. As lunch approached it was announced that there would only be two cases being tried that day and they would only need 30 people. I thought for sure I was going to make it out unscathed. The jury clerk, as old as earth itself, read out the names... I was number 29. Damn! A short and tasteless lunch later I reported to the assigned courtroom. That's where the trouble began...
Stay Tuned for Part II - Tomorrow!!!
The bus ride was a typically early morning Portland experience; mostly sleepy office drones making their way to their giant metal and glass hives downtown to pollinate yet another stack of (ultimately) useless paperwork. As required by some obscure city ordinance there was the very loud, and most likely mentally handicapped person who sat in the front seat opposite the driver talking about the sad inanities that matter most to such folk. Half asleep I caught loud ranting phrases such as "...Ella, she's tough, she won't let them get away..." from our friend up front. Looking out a foggy window sitting next to a TPL (Typical Portland Lesbian), I finally found my stop, entered the county courthouse and suffered through the Paranoid Security Renaissance that has swept our nation and has cops everywhere whistling a merry tune as they frisk you and examine your "papers" [add your best Soviet Block Accent here].
Surviving the security's evil eye, I wandered into the Jury Duty room. To its credit they do have comfy chairs to sit in. There were about 120 damned souls suffering through some "Fair and Balanced" fox "news" show. It was there I waited, and waited, read about 20 magazines, and waited, check out the women, and waited... rinse and repeat. As lunch approached it was announced that there would only be two cases being tried that day and they would only need 30 people. I thought for sure I was going to make it out unscathed. The jury clerk, as old as earth itself, read out the names... I was number 29. Damn! A short and tasteless lunch later I reported to the assigned courtroom. That's where the trouble began...
Stay Tuned for Part II - Tomorrow!!!
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
The Old West with a Twist
If you're a fan of online comics or just good ol' fashioned storytelling, then check out Crowfeathers, a personal favorite of mine.
Monday, February 5, 2007
But, Winter Lingers...
Three days after the New Spring in our family began with the birth of my nephew, Shane; my father passed away after a long battle with metastatic prostate cancer. I spoke with him a few days prior to his death and he was entirely focused on hanging on until Shane was born, then he said "He was done with this Bullshit". He kept his promise, and departed knowing the family line continues and will do so long after he's gone.
Spring Comes Early
I am very proud to announce the birth of little Shane, my first nephew who was born on Jan 25th. He's wee lad weighing 10 lbs, 13 oz!! Both of his parents are tall folks, my brother is 6 ft plus. Funny thing considering I'm 5'7 on a good day. I suspect the milkman... Anyway, here's the "little" fella.
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