You May Not Leave Gawker

It couldn't have happened to a more deserving group. Gawker, the flagship blog of the Gawker media empire, was hacked, with hundreds of thousands of emails and passwords made available to the public. Maybe it's millions, I don't know. But mine was among them and I've been changing most passwords this week just to be safe. I hadn't logged into Gawker in probably two years, the level of cynicism and sarcasm beyond what even an ass like myself was willing to engage in too often. I could not play with those kids. It is the Big Leagues of Dickishness, and I am only a farm-club player. I can't live in full-time snark. It's fun as a hobby and something I dabble in out of my own frustration with not being able to rule the world as its benevolent dictator, but it can get into your soul if you play with it too seriously. Kind of like Satanism. It's fine on the weekends, but once you start drawing pentagrams in the kitchen on a Wednesday morning, well, you're only a couple steps from sacrificing virgins. 

The commenter community at Gawker is nothing like the YouTube comment community. On YouTube you expect little more than name calling, insults, blatant spam and expletives, all usually spelled poorly or typed in Middle School Text Speech. On Gawker, it's more like a giant convention hall of would-be comedians who also happen to be the most smug, snarky and snide group you will ever encounter. In fact, Gawker states, "You need to audition to become a commenter." That was half the fun of dropping in on a Gawker thread. Some of the comments were hilarious one-liners and rapid-fire jabs just dripping with the kind of cruel comedy usually reserved for celebrity roasts. And I'm pretty sure it was that attitude of superiority that caused the hacker collective Gnosis to attack them.

So I thought now would be a good time to renounce the Church of Gawker. I got my "You'd better change your password" email from the administrators of the site, and I complied. But then I wanted out. Hang up my black robe and turn in my goblet of goat's blood. No such luck. From Gawker's recently modified FAQ:

How can I delete my account?
We understand how important trust is on the web, and some of you may wish to delete your Gawker Media account. Currently account deletion is not available. We will, however, give you this option as soon as possible.

That is the biggest load of corporate bullshit I have ever read. I know because I often write it. What Gawker is saying between the lines here is:

Look, if we let everyone bail right now we'd be in a world of hurt. We know you're pissed and we understand you want to leave, but we're not going to let you. We covet this list of users as our lifeblood. It is one of the things that tells advertisers how valuable we are. A mass exodus right now would screw us bad. You may not leave. Maybe later, but not now.

I tried to look at this from an IT standpoint and I still think it's bullshit. OK, maybe Gawker is afraid that some of the hacked emails and passwords will cause other crafty types to just start deleting Gawker accounts willy-nilly. Yeah, I could see that. But if I've already changed my password and confirmed I am the account-holder, why can't I get out now? Are we waiting for EVERYONE in the Gawker community to change their passwords before we are allowed to opt out? That'll take a while. Gawker's true hope here is that when they finally announce you are allowed to opt out, you will have forgotten or forgiven the Hack Heard Round the World. And they'll bury the announcement somewhere deep on the site if and when that time comes.

If an IT guru knows differently, please let me know, but my own consultations with a few skilled coders have confirmed for me that this is a giant load of shit on Gawker's part. The time it would take to write and test a code allowing confirmed users out of Gawker would be minimal.

Addendum: THIS is How You Do Social Media

In my last post, I lambasted local car dealer David Maus for his Star Trek outfit. I alerted my Twitter followers to that post. Someone at David Maus caught wind of that and responded.

Now, they could've gone the corporate route of, "@Jetpacks, sorry you didn't like our commercials. Please DM me and let's see if we can resolve this situation."

Instead they went with humor. Detractor de-fanged and diffused, slightly amused. Observe:

Now, if I'd been an actual customer with a legitimate complaint like, "David Maus screwed me on my trade-in," or "David Maus sold me a lemon," then I've no doubt that the social media team would've dealt with me differently, but  THAT, businesses, is how to handle the random rabble on Twitter and Facebook and in the commentariat of YouTube. There's no need to "engage" us. You don't need to provide a solution to the assholes like me who are only out to mock you. Joke with us (while getting a plug in for your product) and we're far more likely to forgive your goofy attempts at marketing and, who knows, maybe consider you the next time we need a new or used car.

Day After Thanksgiving Self-Indulgent Creative Exercise

Had a song stuck in my head, so I cut it up into a :30 promo for Radio Free Babylon, filling it with old images from this blog.

Best of Where's My Jetpack - Leonardo on YouTube

Color me stupid, but I finally uncovered the not-so-secret fact that I have a Picasa account by default. I found every image I've ever uploaded to Blogger all in one place, even the duplicates, edits and changes. I've made a few of those 3,000 images public and I guess I'll let it serve as a place to piss off professional designers who cringe at my crude concepts. But that's always how I've worked: "Here's what I'm thinking. Make it better."

Found one I like. I think I did this at my last full-time gig as I was waiting for some CMO with his head up his ass to see if he could remove it. There was a lot of downtime on that job. This was just over a year ago. The point was, as I recall, that even Leonardo would find himself facing a community of clowns and critics if he were to unveil his work today.

Click for the massive

Best of Where's My Jetpack: Multi-Level Pimping

Having been at this blogging game for about four and a half years, I've got some stuff buried in here that most readers haven't seen. That's a lazy Friday way of saying, "I got nothin'."

So let's unlock the vault and bring back an oldie. From way back in November of 2006, the Quixtar / Amway parody that was pulled from YouTube but mysteriously remains on Google video.

I may be tempting fate (aka: the powerful lawyers of Amway) by putting it out here again. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Blind Taste Tests Don't Lie

Landscaper Ronnie Reed, hard-partying father of six and Coca-Cola connoisseur, went to Wendy's and tried a Coke Zero. He was not impressed.

I Can't Believe This Guy Is Beating Me by 59 Thousand

And with your help, he won't be much longer.

Tim Wilson. Never heard of him, but he's one of those country singers who throws in the F-word on his song and it's a success. "Ha-ha! He said, 'Where the Fuck is My Jetpack?'" and his song has over sixty-thousand views on YouTube.



By contrast, here is what I find to be a far superior song, and instead of just a picture of the smiling singer/songwriter you get an actual video, and this video is only sitting at about 1,200 views. (And between you and me, these lyrics are way better.)



Now granted, Mr. Wilson has a major label behind him and he tours regularly, whereas I write a small blog with a low readership and dabble in music from a computer in my bedroom, so I suppose it's only natural that the number of views for his song should surpass mine. Nevermind that he probably stole the line from me.

I would like to someday beat Tim Wilson on YouTube. Another person I'd like to beat is this dude, whose Kraftwerk/Devo/Cars sounding Jetpack video is just...well, you decide. He's got nearly 7K views.



What makes a successful video? I like to think it's content, creativity, a small push from a few people and maybe a bit of luck. With any luck and a small push from a few of you, I will beat Tim Wilson and Devo Dude in no time.

Then the world will buy the song and Tim's Nashville corporate lawyers will come calling, seeking copyright infringement money, to which I will reply, "Bite me. Owned the domain since 2003. Blogging under the name since 2006. Whereas your song was published in 2009. Who is infringing upon whom?" Or, "Upon whom is infringement being perpetrated?" Or, "This infringement you speak of, dear sirs, is wholly mine to claim! DON'T TREAD ON ME!" And then I will wave my snake-flag and call some local TV stations. Tell me, lawyers, do I have a case?

But it's not like the phrase is unique anymore anyway. Author and Roboticist Daniel Wilson (Another Wilson?) came to me years ago hoping to buy the domain for his book, which has the same title as this blog. I told him, "No. Why don't you register 'Where IS My Jetpack' instead?" Which he promptly did.

After the lawyers go away in sheepish defeat, (compensating me out-of-court for the pain, suffering and loss of potential wages) I will then maybe let Tim open for me at a show or two, provided he doesn't sing his Jetpack song.

Be The Biggest Dork in Town

With TV Hat.

Ravioli on The Grill

Ronnie the landscaper reveals that's it not all party-time, firecrackers and chasing chicks in his latest video. The character is getting dark, but you'd be too if one of the exes you're in a custody battle with showed up at the last minute with two of your six kids so she could go out with her new man in his "gay-ass, punked-out Monte Carlo."

Ronnie doesn't care much about production values, making his videos pretty simple to produce, but I may have to break down and buy the poor bastard a wireless mic.



Ronnie would like you to be his friend on Facebook. You may also follow him on Twitter. He will only stalk you if you're hot. Ronnie's definition of "hot" is pretty much defined by what he would do to get to know you. For instance, if you heard him say, "I'd suck the dick of the dog that pissed on the tire of the car that took her dirty underwear to the laundromat," you probably qualify as Super-Hot. And of course Ronnie has a blog where he expounds on subjects such as polygamy, tattoos, church, and tries to get Will Ferrell to co-star in his movie.

Ronnie says he is available for brand/product endorsements or for speaking to groups of students about "the importance of education or some shit."

Ronnie owes his existence to Humongo.

I Will Be a Schizophrenic Before This Is Over

As the Humongo Agency tour neared my locale, I debated going out to ambush them. I needed a good ruse, and at the last minute I came up with Ronnie, a character who is likely near to my heart. I did a summer on a landscaping crew, and Ronnie is probably a subconscious amalgamation of some of the guys I worked with. He means well, but he's, well, for lack of a better term, a little fucked up.

The character went over a little better than I expected and he has taken on a life of his own at the encouragement of Chris, Darryl and a few others. Ronnie now has a blog, a Twitter account and a YouTube channel. Here's his first video.

Super Saturated Street Views - "Moving Pictures" Edition

Some time back, I was cruising around the world on Google Street Views and came across a Porsche just south of Bellagio in Italy, meandering along the shores of Lago di Como behind the Google Street View Car. I thought, "That'd make a nice Porsche ad." Then recently, I was watching a Rush documentary and wondering, "How come no Rush music has ever been featured in a commercial?" UPDATE: MTLB thinks Rush music was used for a Nissan Pathfinder commercial some years back. Regardless, this will make that look like trash.

So, I'm combining the two interests - Rush and Street Views. Here's an ad made entirely from Google, including the pull-away at the end using Google Maps. I even took the tune from YouTube, where every song you ever wanted to hear resides for free, except the music of Prince, who has a crack legal team that will sue your ass in two shakes of a backup dancer's tail if you so much as THINK of one of his songs without asking.

And every Rush fan, be they old school headbangers or fans of "The Mullet Years" will agree, YYZ is the tune that unites every generation of Rush fan, and I've selected the best :30 of that tune. So here goes: I'm ready to be a one man crowd-source with this thing and take a couple hundred grand, 'cause I need a new roof. (And a Porsche, s'long as I'm at it.)

Here's the reasoning:

• Rush and Porsche are a natural fit: Power + Precision
• Some older Rush fans are wealthy now, even in this recession, and Rush fans are out of the closet. This tune will stop them in their tracks, guaranteed.
• Porsche HAS to be hurting in this economy.
• It rocks.
• It was easy and cheap. Took me a few hours. Keep in mind, this is spec. We'll make it HD and pretty in a nice studio somewhere. (It's the IDEA that counts, bitches.)
• It's an opening for Google to license their Street Views for commercial usage, seeing as they're out to rule the online revenue world.

Well, I guess I've opened up an opportunity for at least three entities to order me to cease and desist, and to them I say, "Live a little and lighten up." (And feel free to hire me. And of course we can work on my lame tagline at the end. But it's easy, cheesy and obvious, in anticipation of the client's desires.)

Google's Cutesy Logo Whimsy Extended to Subsidiaries

But they are apparently putting the junior designers on the project. Or the interns. Or some child. But art and design being entirely subjective, I fully expect someone to come along and say "I love it!" That's fine. I'll "agree to disagree" as long as you agree that your opinion is stupid.

Dale Peterson is Gonna Kick Some Ass

UPDATE: I would've lost that money I was going to place on Dale. Seems he got his ass kicked. Disregard this entire post.

I've been away for a week, so apologies if I'm posting something everyone else already has. (When I'm gone that long, I tend to mark all RSS items as "read" as I don't have the patience to sift through the thousands of things I missed.)

Via Dan Eck came this gem in my inbox for Alabama candidate for Agricultural Commissioner Dale Peterson. From the grand cinematic score to the veiled threats to calling his opponent a dummy, this guy should be a shoe-in for what he calls one of the most powerful positions in Alabama. Dog tags and Marine Corps insignia over the Constitution. Cowboy hat. Every cliche is covered. (Correction: He didn't include an American flag. Missed an opportunity there.) Every hot button hit. Via The Washington Post comes this quote: "Republican consultants are conspiring feverishly" to produce more such ads in order to "cross the Rachel Maddow Threshold and get mocked by liberals." I'm not mocking. What Rachel and the Screaming Left don't get is that this stuff works. This is advertising at its most effective. (Some guy who thinks he's funny has created a spoof of this. It's lame.) A commenter at that same WaPo link says, "It's ironic that some of the enlightened elite don't realize that Dale is in on the joke." The rifle is the perfect touch at the end. I'd put money on Peterson winning this primary on June 1.

Friday is Just Like Any Other Day Lately

Life on the dole is a curious existence. On the one hand, you desperately search for gainful employment, while on the other, you have time to do things you didn't have time for when you were driving one hour one-way to sit in a generic office building in a cube, pumping out copy for taskmasters more suited to pushing a broom in a warehouse than making strategic marketing decisions. (And even then, I'm not sure I would trust them to sweep correctly.) Here's some of what I've been up to.

Presented a series of logos to a Jacksonville-based company, which is funny, because I'm not a designer. They actually loved one and are already using it on their in-development, internal site. I didn't charge them, since they're friends. And yes, I impressed them with the much-maligned (and deservedly so) faded reflection feature. 

Went on a job interview down in Tampa. Met with the lead person, who said, "My team would like to sit with you and discuss some things." In walked 11 people, who proceeded to tell me about the company and pepper me with questions such as, "What superpower do you wish you had?" "What animal would you be?" and "Pirate or Ninja?" (I swear.)

Took delivery of a 50" Sanyo Plasma. (Long story, but it was a prize.) This thing is imposing. Our "old" TV is now in the bedroom, a 42" Sony Bravia. I am now Winston Smith from 1984, trying to escape the giant visages screaming at me about healthcare reform from every room.

Presented a very cool idea to my favorite grocery chain. It was received well and is now being passed up the ladder, where it will likely meet its death in committee. Currently it remains a secret, but if and when they adopt it, I will be its loudest and most constant promoter, to the point that you will say, "I wish he'd shut the hell up about that stupid f-ing grocery chain." I made the pitch in Powerpoint - and yes - I am ashamed of that.

Got an up-close, inside look into how homeowner's insurance works. Basically, you make a claim, based on the recommendation of a professional whose job it is to determine these things, and then you watch as the insurance company spends thousands of dollars to fight your claim. I understand the need on their part to guard against fraudulent claims, but when you approach a long-standing policy holder as someone trying to get one over on you, then you pretty much suck in the customer service area. Are you in good hands? Now there's a feel-good slogan that doesn't mean a damn thing. Fuck you, All-State.

Went to a home-brew party at the neighbors'. They're Americanized Brits, the husband being some sort of mad-scientist for a defense contractor. I think he makes lasers that shoot out of cats' eyes. He also makes a great beer, or three. I came up with about six names for his concoctions with accompanying label designs, which again is funny, because I'm not a designer. But to a physicist like my neighbor, if you're "in advertising," then you can do that thing with The Photoshop, right? And when a physicist tackles a hobby like home-brewing, the results are very impressive. I am pushing him to "Take it to the Next Level!"

Added actual ads to this site. Am I a sell out? Yes, but it doesn't pay off until you have actual traffic. 150 visitors a day is not going to fetch me any serious coin. Also added a "featured video" in the sidebar, which will rotate with stuff from my YouTube account when I get around to it.

I have been living like a European, riding my bike each day to the market and loading up an old child carrier / trailer I found on Craigslist with the day's groceries and the evening's dinner. So far, no stalks of celery or baguettes sticking up out of the bags in that grocery cliché seen in the movies. I'm even using those damned reusable canvas grocery bags. I justify this disgusting transformation in me as "exercise with a purpose." We need groceries and I need exercise. Ya know, two birds. I'm sure people think I'm being "green," when actually I'm just trying to get in shape for the Apocalypse.

It is estimated that as many as 75% of American homes have within them a guitar. Granted, that guitar may be stringless and in the attic, but it is still there. It is also estimated that as many as 80% of all American males have attempted at one time to learn to play the guitar*. I knew how not long ago, but life has a tendency to get in the way of such luxuries. Dusted off the dobro and greased the strings, trying to remember where to put my fingers to make it sing like it used to.

* Both estimates based on pure fantasy with no data to prove them.

Stereotype: The Irish Are Witty and Insightful

One of my favorite bits of Ed Byrne's is his deconstruction of Alanis Morrisette's song "Ironic," but studies have shown that a good many of you won't devote five minutes to a YouTube video embedded in a blog, so maybe you'll watch this two-minute Byrne clip in which the comedian deconstructs Back to the Future.

This Beats a Killer Whale Show Any Day

In a matter of days, expect an ad agency with a dog snack client to steal this idea and use it in a commercial.

The Real Ron Burgundy

You know how it is - you're searching for something on YouTube and accidentally find a time vault item that you can't ignore.

Renaissance YouTube

In this cheap hack-job of a screenshot, I imagine Leonardo getting himself a YouTube account and seeking feedback on his work from the YouTube "community." (Click to read.)

Click for the massive

Social Media Lunch

I finally heard about xtranormal, the site that allows you to make little movies. It's got some bugs, and the voices aren't the best, but it's a lot of fun. My first effort below. My apologies in advance to any gurus out there who might feel offended by this. Actually, I take that back. I'm not sorry at all. The guru/ninja in this video will be known as Richard Head.

Blink and The Moment is Gone

It's a fast-paced pop culture out there. What is that stupid German word? Zeitgeist? Yeah, that.