Venn Diagram Friday: karaoke edition
Religious profiling on facebook?
On no part of my facebook profile do I specify religion. Yet, this ad greeted me this morning when I logged on:
How does this happen? Are the ads targeting specific last names? Did they somehow trace my lone attempt at a viral video? I'm half-expecting to get suggestions to call my mother on my next sign-in.
How does this happen? Are the ads targeting specific last names? Did they somehow trace my lone attempt at a viral video? I'm half-expecting to get suggestions to call my mother on my next sign-in.
I am, like, so not buying that
Retailer Urban Outfitters has made the Facebook Like button central to the way the company is marketing its products online. Visitors to the Urban Outfitters web site are now greeting [sic] by a large thumbs up asking them to "See our most Liked items."-- "Urban Outfitters Makes Facebook Likes Featured Items"
No word yet on whether Urban Outfitters will also group likes by location. I mean, if I see that 50 people in my 4-block radius "like" the same slouchy cardigan, I'm sure as hell not buying it. The horror!
Venn Diagram Friday: Taking stock on Twitter
Getting a do-over
At some point after our stunning Chicago architectural river tour, LBC and I were marveling at the sheer number of gorgeous buildings that lined the river and well-planned grid of streets and squares.
We learned that after the Chicago fire, the world’s best architects flocked to the windy city to rebuild it, literally from the ashes. "Basically," LBC remarked, "they got a do-over."
By chance, I checked the Boston Public Library's flickr stream today, and they have just uploaded a set from the Great Fire of 1872, which similarly devastated blocks of city buildings.
Essentially, Boston got a "do-over" as well, but apparently we decided to just rebuild the chaos on cow paths, as it was before.
We learned that after the Chicago fire, the world’s best architects flocked to the windy city to rebuild it, literally from the ashes. "Basically," LBC remarked, "they got a do-over."
By chance, I checked the Boston Public Library's flickr stream today, and they have just uploaded a set from the Great Fire of 1872, which similarly devastated blocks of city buildings.
Essentially, Boston got a "do-over" as well, but apparently we decided to just rebuild the chaos on cow paths, as it was before.
Video: farmer's market redux
With a belly full of tomatoes, watermelon, basil, eggplant, cucumber, chocolate, blueberries, and peaches, I present part two of my contribution to Loving Local's MA farmer's market blogathon. Find donation links on their site, or join me on my quest for the urban edible bounty that ends only when the frost comes and there's nothing left to eat.
Music by Sara Shansky.
Music by Sara Shansky.
Evolution of a content strategist
Fifth grade: For the first time, I answer "writer" when asked what I want to be when I grow up. My best narratives include hot dogs.
High school sophomore: I sign my parents up for AOL and get my first email address.
High school junior: I am a JERE (Junior English Review Exercises) master, which is a good thing, because my teacher rarely grades a paper above a B+.
High school senior: I read Hamlet. I score a 5 on the AP English exam. Iwoo sit next to boys in the library while using Netscape.
College freshman: I join the daily newspaper and the school's telnet.
College sophomore: I take Computing on the Internet and build my first webpage via the my free student access. My content is 95% devoted to my time on the Florida Panthers rat patrol.
College junior: My Writer's London instructor is appalled to hear that I'm a psych major. I switch to English when I return from abroad.
First job: I push content from a weekly newspaper to its website. I surf the Web, start a blog, and join Friendster. I master the peculiarities of a new CMS. I publish my first story and email the online version to my parents.
Second job: I help build websites to accompany long-form news documentaries, learn volumes about storytelling and current events while embracing impeccable standards, and contribute promotional ideas that stick. I know the AP stylebook cover to cover, but I remain loyal to the Oxford comma in my personal life.
Third job: I provide editorial oversight for the website of an educational institution. I exercise diplomacy in office politics and preach about the good of the whole. Not just writing and editing, I weigh in on design and information architecture decisions. I attend An Event Apart 2009 and hear Kristina Halvorson speak. She shows the diagram of all of the jobs that touch on content strategy, and I think, "Holy crap, that’s me!"
High school sophomore: I sign my parents up for AOL and get my first email address.
High school junior: I am a JERE (Junior English Review Exercises) master, which is a good thing, because my teacher rarely grades a paper above a B+.
High school senior: I read Hamlet. I score a 5 on the AP English exam. I
College freshman: I join the daily newspaper and the school's telnet.
College sophomore: I take Computing on the Internet and build my first webpage via the my free student access. My content is 95% devoted to my time on the Florida Panthers rat patrol.
College junior: My Writer's London instructor is appalled to hear that I'm a psych major. I switch to English when I return from abroad.
First job: I push content from a weekly newspaper to its website. I surf the Web, start a blog, and join Friendster. I master the peculiarities of a new CMS. I publish my first story and email the online version to my parents.
Second job: I help build websites to accompany long-form news documentaries, learn volumes about storytelling and current events while embracing impeccable standards, and contribute promotional ideas that stick. I know the AP stylebook cover to cover, but I remain loyal to the Oxford comma in my personal life.
Third job: I provide editorial oversight for the website of an educational institution. I exercise diplomacy in office politics and preach about the good of the whole. Not just writing and editing, I weigh in on design and information architecture decisions. I attend An Event Apart 2009 and hear Kristina Halvorson speak. She shows the diagram of all of the jobs that touch on content strategy, and I think, "Holy crap, that’s me!"
farmer's market surprise
Oh baby watermelon, at $0.80 / lb, you fit the limitations of both my purse and my shopping bag. Little did I know that underneath your perfect, zebra-striped skin, you were hiding yellow flesh speckled with the familiar dark seeds. This farmer's market find has me Loving Local all over again.
Venn Diagram Friday: People I hide from my Facebook feed
80 Penguins. 80 Personalities. Zero Web Presence
This summer, Boston has been plastered by the New England Aquarium's latest ad campaign, which focuses on their most memorable asset: the penguins that captivate visitors at the entrance level of their facility.
It’s a perfect alignment of sass, cuteness, and the mission of an institution known for its meticulous caretaking of animals. The campaign has appeared in complete subway station buyouts, on billboards, and at bus stops. Only the most oblivious Boston residents have missed it.
However, pay a visit to the aquarium's homepage, and there is zero carryover. Sure, the penguins have a presence, but the tone and imagery from the campaign are nowhere to be seen.
Sadly, I know this struggle all too well. In the non-profit environment, it's a daily challenge to coordinate between the Web and more traditional forms of marketing. Third-party projects are the toughest of all to track, because only the primary agency contacts see the results before they hit the street. Even if the all parties are game for keeping up, they likely lack the bandwidth to handle a coordinated marketing campaign, no matter how brilliant.
However, imagine if they did? Maybe it doesn't require additional resources so much as a plan that anticipates the need. With enough lead time (easier said than done in this world) and buy-in from the right parties (the all-too-rare synergy that we wish we had but traditionally lack), there could be a seamless brand experience, from the street to the Web, and back.
I wonder how often this is taken into consideration when creating a content strategy, to offer the nimbleness necessary to bring a homepage in line with each major ad campaign -- and to have an ad campaign that considers the Web. Building it in from the beginning at least offers a fighting chance that online visitors seeking a continued experience will arrive delighted, rather than disappointed.
It’s a perfect alignment of sass, cuteness, and the mission of an institution known for its meticulous caretaking of animals. The campaign has appeared in complete subway station buyouts, on billboards, and at bus stops. Only the most oblivious Boston residents have missed it.
However, pay a visit to the aquarium's homepage, and there is zero carryover. Sure, the penguins have a presence, but the tone and imagery from the campaign are nowhere to be seen.
Sadly, I know this struggle all too well. In the non-profit environment, it's a daily challenge to coordinate between the Web and more traditional forms of marketing. Third-party projects are the toughest of all to track, because only the primary agency contacts see the results before they hit the street. Even if the all parties are game for keeping up, they likely lack the bandwidth to handle a coordinated marketing campaign, no matter how brilliant.
However, imagine if they did? Maybe it doesn't require additional resources so much as a plan that anticipates the need. With enough lead time (easier said than done in this world) and buy-in from the right parties (the all-too-rare synergy that we wish we had but traditionally lack), there could be a seamless brand experience, from the street to the Web, and back.
I wonder how often this is taken into consideration when creating a content strategy, to offer the nimbleness necessary to bring a homepage in line with each major ad campaign -- and to have an ad campaign that considers the Web. Building it in from the beginning at least offers a fighting chance that online visitors seeking a continued experience will arrive delighted, rather than disappointed.
