Operation Global Media Domination: To Whom It May Concern

True/Slant tells us the news is more than what happens, so here's what happened

True/Slant

“NEWS IS MORE THAN WHAT HAPPENS.”

Certified Mail –

Return Receipt Requested

June 22, 2010

RE: Content License Agreements

Dear Contributor:

As you are probably aware True/Slant Inc. has been bought by and merged into Forbes. This transaction means great changes for True/Slant. Unfortunately it means that at this time we must exercise our right to terminate our Agreement with you effective 30 days hence. We will be working with you to move your content to a WordPress blog; we’ll send details on that shortly. While at the moment we do not have a need for your services, we forsee the possibility down the road of contacting you again.

I wanted to personally thank you for all that you have done to make True/Slant what it is today. We wish you good luck and hope that our paths cross again in the future.

Very truly yours,

Lewis Dvorkin

549 BROADWAY SUITE 1012    NEW YORK, NY 10012     INFO@TRUESLANT.COM
TRUESLANT.COM
.


God knows, I’ve been laid off before. Just usually by people who knew my name.

For those of you who are interested, no, the Michael Jackson posts didn’t do it. It’d be a sorry-ass news site indeed that would fire somebody for getting hate mail. Coates and I had a lot of talks before I got hired, and one of the things that made him say Yes was my ability to generate controversy. Which hasn’t gotten my work posted to the front page ever since I started talking about Michael Jackson, but who knows? Maybe Steve Forbes is a big fan. I actually have no complaints about the way I was treated, except the one about a non-specific noun rather than a personal one in that greeting. May I be excused my emo moment?

It’s okay, I’ve still got my poetry.

By the way, for trivia fans no, they did not in fact send it Certified Mail, so I guess this will have to do as a return receipt.

I’ll be very, very sorry to see this gig go. It was never going to be a millionaire-maker, nor was my drawing power something that had Matt Taibbi staying up nights, but I was proud of the work I did there (and, I guess, will continue to do right up till the end of July, just because I’m so nice) and having briefly had one, I will never again underestimate the power of a site that has the attention of the New York media.

John Cusack retweeted my post about him, and said (somewhat loopily, as usual) “I liek lorriane!Ian McKellen retweeted my post about him.

It’s not supposed to matter, but it does. At least they know my name.

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Operation Global Media Domination: The Michael Jackson Situation

Wacko Jacko Heart AttackoI can’t say I didn’t know what I was getting into. I was getting into something like a cross between a rabid wolverine in a disco and the battle of Ypres. That I got out alive surprises everyone, including the Michael Jackson fan who repeatedly threatened me with a visitation from the undead Zombie Michael Jackson. Why?

Here’s why:

Yes, he made some terrific songs. He could dance up a storm. He was a fantastic entertainer, one of the greatest. And overcame a background of terrible abuse to become his own man and direct his own course.

But the truth is, he gave children as young as eight or nine alcohol without their knowledge, slept with little boys, and bought off or threatened the parents into silence. Something about this makes me uncomfortable describing his death as a loss.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that in the universe of fandom there are no fans as wacko as Jacko’s (which reminds me of Guido’s brilliant headline announcing the death: Wacko Jacko Heart Attacko) not even Apple fanboys or Twihards. So it wasn’t unexpected.

But it was ugly.

First of all, I’d like to thank the over 100 people who hate my guts and yet posted my article to their Facebook walls. You will always have the enduring gratitude of Operation Global Media Domination. And to the 27 or so who tweeted the link, again, you have my sincere appreciation. Plus the 30 or so new Twitter followers that resulted.

This is sort of what Obi Wan meant when he said “If you strike me down I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine,” which is particularly appropriate in this case, as I rather doubt any of them have much imagination. And the 34 commenters; you have a special place in my heart. Where I can keep an eye on you.

And then there’s what it looked like on Twitter. I suggest you click on the link and read from the bottom up, as that’s the time-line:

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Bitter Feast: Revenge is a dish best served cold

Chef Death

I forget who said that, and am far too lazy to google it, but s/he could well have been talking to the victim of this particular food blogger. Allow me to present (yes, our third YouTube in a row, but it’s too good to pass up) the trailer for Bitter Feast, the tale of one chef’s revenge on a whorish, mean-spirited, lowest-common-denominator pandering food blogger:

via ManoloFood, which says:

The film centers around celebrity chef Peter Gray whose career is ostensibly ruined by a scathing review on the ficticious food blog “Gastropunks.” When Chef Gray is fired (by none other than Mario Batali in a cameo as a restaurant owner improbably named Gordon), he exacts revenge, taking the blogger hostage and torturing him in a series of Food Network worthy extreme cooking challenges. If the blogger can cook a perfect over easy egg, he can eat it; if not  he’s got egg on his face — literally and delivered by way of a sizzling frying pan to the noggin.

Which is (bear with me here) funny. Before you run off screaming and accusing me of being all coldblooded Eating Raul and such, listen up. And think up. Think: do you know any food bloggers? You do, don’t you? And those food bloggers…are they big ol’ meanies like this Gastropunk here, or are they perhaps a little more on the pander-to-Yelp-for-possible-kickbacks-I-MEAN-SPONTANEOUS-GOOD-TREATMENT side? I know many food bloggers, quite a few of whom are fair and principled, and quite a LOT of whom are more interested in pandering to chefs and managers than in pandering to mere readers. Which is to say that disinterestedly critical food blogs are a rare phenomenon, and that this movie isn’t just fiction: it’s speculative fiction, something like a Cuisinart Jurassic Park.

Can you IMAGINE what things would be like if there were, say, an island of truly snarky, untamed bloggers roaming free? It’d be like…Manhattan!

I couldn’t find any “what kind of food critic are you” quizzes, but I did find a Personality Disorder test, a What Nut Are You quiz (you MUST be one, if you’re a blogger, right?), What Herb Are You (I’d rather be Kiki!), and What Taste Are You (you’ll have to ask my ex). So, enjoy?


You Are a Pistachio


You are funky, freaky, and a total character.

You’re very different than anyone you know.

There’s no way you’re changing the way you are…

Which is good, because no one wants you to change.


You Are Cinnamon


You are intelligent and complex. You are both mild mannered and intense.

You are passionate to the point of being overpowering. People can’t ignore your presence.

You are always questioning and learning in your life. You’re on a bit of a spiritual journey.

You are drawn toward power and success. You are never quite satisfied with your achievements.


You Are Bitter


You aren’t bitter at the world, even though you have a strong personality.

Instead, you are sophisticated and cultured. You appreciate acquired tastes.

You are very powerful. You have the ability to change a room’s energy.

While some may find you disagreeable, your points of view are intelligent and interesting.

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The View Is More Beautiful Now That It Is Mine

Look out, Vancouver! Here I come

Look out, Vangroover, here I come!

It’s been quite awhile since we had an update on Operation Global Media Domination, so I thought I’d give you one, whether you like it or not.

And you just have to sit there and take it.

So: in the past couple of weeks, I’ve given the keynote talk (social media for writers) at the AGM of the Federation of BC Writers, been singled out in an article as a social media guru who is “the real deal,” presented on Content and Community Management at WordCamp Victoria (and gotten put up, gratis, at one of the finest hotels in the world, which opened up an entire bar just for me when I said I couldn’t sit in a draft {and I wasn’t just being princessy; I have doctor’s orders}), begun teaching Blogging for Writers online (yay for smart students!), been interviewed in Canadian Business magazine, been retweeted by Sir Ian McKellen, and became president of the Social Media Club of Vancouver.

How’d that happen? Well, I became Empr- I mean President when the former president, Eric Weaver, stepped down because of escalating work commitments. Those who were interested applied, and I was magically chosen, without any of the fuss and muss of those silly “election” thingies. We all know how those end up.

Nixon will be re-elected by a huge majority of Americans who feel he is not only more honest and more trustworthy than George McGovern, but also more likely to end the war in Vietnam. The polls also indicate that Nixon will get a comfortable majority of the Youth Vote. And that he might carry all fifty states… This may be the year when we finally come face to face with ourselves; finally just lay back and say it — that we are really just a nation of 220 million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns, and no qualms at all about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.

Hunter S. Thompson

So, perish the thought.

What’s being President of SMCYVR like? Rather like this:

We Three Queens

‘What do you mean by ‘If you really are a Queen”? What right have you to all yourself so? You can’t be a Queen, you know, till you’ve passed the proper examination. And the sooner we begin it, the better.’

‘I only said “if”!’ poor Alice pleaded in a piteous tone.

The two Queens looked at each other, and the Red Queen remarked, with a little shudder, ‘She says she only said “if” – ‘

‘But she said a great deal more than that!’ the White Queen moaned, wringing her hands. ‘Oh, ever so much more than that!’

‘So you did, you know,’ the Red Queen said to Alice. ‘Always speak the truth — think before you speak — and write it down afterwards.’

‘I’m sure I didn’t mean — ‘ Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen interrupted her impatiently.

‘That’s just what I complain of! You should have meant! What do you suppose is the use of child without any meaning? Even a joke should have some meaning — and a child’s more important than a joke, I hope. You couldn’t deny that, even if you tried with both hands.’

‘I don’t deny things with my hands,’ Alice objected.

‘Nobody said you did,’ said the Red Queen. ‘I said you couldn’t if you tried.’

‘She’s in that state of mind,’ said the White Queen, ‘that she wants to deny something — only she doesn’t know what to deny!’

A nasty, vicious temper,’ the Red Queen remarked; and then there was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.

The Red Queen broke the silence by saying to the White Queen, ‘I invite you to Alice’s dinner-party this afternoon.’

The White Queen smiled feebly, and said ‘And I invite you.’

‘I didn’t know I was to have a party at all,’ said Alice; ‘but if there is to be one, I think I ought to invite the guests.’

‘We gave you the opportunity of doing it,’ the Red Queen remarked: ‘but I daresay you’ve not had many lessons in manners yet?’

‘Manners are not taught in lessons,’ said Alice. ‘Lessons teach you to do sums, and things of that sort.’

But the Red Queen drew herself up rather stiffly, and said ‘Queens never make bargains.’

‘I wish Queens never asked questions,’ Alice thought to herself.

Well, I don’t see why we WOULD; we have all the answers. We’re the queens of social media. Which reminds me how much Twitter is like a gay bar, particularly after 10 certain weekend evenings.

It’s not that Vancouver is underserved by organizations that specialize in getting people active in social media to have some facetime (often in association with alcohol or education). We’ve got…you know what? If I list them here I’m quite certain to leave out somebody, who will then be horribly offended. But you know what? When have I ever hesitated to offend people?

I know, right?

The Red Queen knows how this social media game works

So we’ve got, in no particular order and I don’t care how many times you read it, there is no particular order: Net Tuesday, for professional do-goodniks who want a fairly high level of tech talk on the metrics of Facebook fundraising campaigns, etc; the Blogger’s Meetup, which is primarily social with a sideline in education and offers bloggers specifically a chance to have dinner and a chat with local people they may know better by handle than by name; the very popular, networky Third Tuesday which for reasons I can never understand always seems to be on either the Monday when I have the Shebeen Club so I can’t go (not that this is a causal factor in their reasoning) or on Wednesday which, regardless of its other merits (and it is certainly a fine day, as fine a day of the week as any and I don’t care WHAT they say about Wednesday’s Child in that interminable poem and I myself am one but where was I?) certainly never falls on a Tuesday, but now that it IS on Tuesday I’m teaching on Tuesday anyway, and sadly usually falls (or rises) at Ceili’s, for which vast alcohol and hookup cavern I have about as much affection as I do for the late Ronald Reagan; there’s the almost “boutique” sized Dot Com Pho for noodling with our local evil genius John Chow; and here we get to all those lovely people I said I was going to forget, and I have. At least I do what I promise, eh?

And we’re not even counting the professional associations, the marketing meetups, the Board of Trade kinda stuff,Emo Queen, that's me

of which there is no shortage or at least I don’t think there’s a shortage, given that my friend Shane runs two or three himself.

Factor in the fact that all of these groups and all of the individuals are based in…Vancouver…and those of you who’ve socialized or worked in Vancouver will know what that means. It means we’re very nice, very friendly with people with whom we are already friends, and, although we generally mean not to be, very touchy.

There, I said it.

And all of these people have at their disposal a full skill set and: Facebook, Twitter, Meetup.com, blogs, comments, phones, emails, newsletters, newspaper announcements, telegrams, Tumblrs and the will and power to use them.

Being of Irish extraction (as I have been all my life), I have enormous experience in dealing with touchy people, including myself. My policy is that since prevention of social tensions is effectively impossible (see the Law of Conservation of Catastrophe) my aim is to achieve perfect equilibrium by making sure that tension is maintained equally in 360 degrees.

Which brings us back to Operation Global Media Domination and my personal motto: 49 degrees latitude, 360 degrees attitude!

Wish me luck!

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What Did You Do Today, raincoaster?

Desert Island disc-less

via fleetfootedfox

Nothing much, just:

Posted:

Discouraged a half-dozen or so people from attempting to pull the broken glass out of the door of the office and break in. I have some powerful stink-eye. A junkie kicked the glass door in the other day, but we have bars too, so even if you did scabble with your paws and get all the broken glass and the glass patch and the vinyl patch out of the frame, you’d just be stuck standing there looking in, only with you’re own blood all over your hands, and wouldn’t you feel stupid then, eh?

Watched an old lady get helped out of her wheelchair so she could root around in her bag for her crack pipe, and then watched as she dropped the pipe and the burning crack onto her slipper socks and then tried to suck the crack out.

Declared a moratorium on talking about dead people. Until BusyBeeBlogger pointed out that would give VanityFair nothing to talk about, so I said it was okay as long as the people were dead, fabulous, and not of my circle of acquaintances. Which describes most of the people they write about to a T. Or even an I.

Read Gawker and got depressed.

Pre-posted for the next couple of days. I’ll have to do a linkpost and something for TrueSlant Monday, but otherwise can take a day and a half at least off without feeling guilty.

Realized that, of my top ten posts, only one is less than a year and a half old. And got more depressed.

Self-diagnosed (probably accurately) with this fancy new, imported death fungus (25% fatality!). Have to get myself back to the doctor; maybe I should just camp there? I have every one of these symptoms INCLUDING the one only reported in animals so far. And I’ve had these symptoms for two months now.

Dealt with the post office, the bank, the other bank, Fido, the Sister, the Shebeen Club event on Monday, and American Apparel, who apparently wishes to send the Manolosphere some shoon.

On the plus side, when I go over to Victoria to speak at WordCamp Victoria, they’re putting me up at the Fairmont Empress. Yes, you may now envy me. Oh, AND the afterparty is going to be a gin tasting at Clive’s with a representative from Victoria gin and perhaps another gin which hasn’t been released to the public yet. Gotta hand it to that Dutch Courage: it works. There I was snarking about how you could use the stuff to strip paint and BAM! They ping me on Twitter and offer me another sample to see if it hasn’t improved. That takes courage of SOME kind, for sure.

Victoria gin is the third gin company that’s offered me a bottle, but it should be noted that Beefeater hit me up on Twitter and offered, but never actually came through with the goods. Bombay, of course, did. Not that I keep track of these things.

I submitted my blogs to Zemanta for consideration for inclusion in their devastatingly clever little linking system.

I offered up my services as a linkblogger: if I’m going to spend two hours every two days doing this, I might as well resell the end product: doing so will actually increase the value of each link, as it’ll be coming to any particular post from an increasing number of blogs. So, if you know a gossipblogger who’s got better things to do with his/her time than read and link, let me know. The more people who buy the service, the cheaper it gets.

Checked and re-checked Google and Bing for why they’re not indexing Lolebrity properly: I think it all comes down to this topless Helen Mirren photo. Hell, I even photoshopped out the nipples AND covered them with @ signs: what do these people want from me????

And, of course, did this post.

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