In a recent episode of Gray’s Anatomy, Bailey catches the Chief’s ire (again!?) – this time for tweeting in the OR. That is, until they find themselves the middle of a complex procedure and get helpful advice to save a patient’s life from TV surgeons following the conversation online. (Hopefully, they’re not in the middle of their own surgeries at the same time.)
Does this happen in most hospitals? I don’t think so. But a Twitter 101 lesson on a mainstream TV shows how embedded Twitter’s become in our vocabulary and stories.
That’s one of the things we talk about on Inside PR 2.40 – as well as the Gov 2.0 conference Joe attended and Gini’s take on Kenneth Cole’s tweet-in-bad-fashion-taste.
Have a listen and let us know what you think. We’d love to hear from you.
I never really liked it. Maybe because I grew up in a 2.5 channel universe (at least in my formative years). Ever since I was young, when I watched TV, I really watched it. Meaning I naturally tried to concentrate on everything – shows and commercials. Even if the ads bugged me, I still paid attention.
Enter the remote and the start of SPLIT-ATTENTION DISORDER (the new SAD). You just had to click, switch and watch. It was the beginning of the end of the wait. (This is not to be confused with Seasonal Affective Disorder – another SAD acronym.) (more…)
… how to stock my office bar, tips on merging two firms in 72 hours, the importance of ice …
OK, I’m a bit late to the series, but I got Mad Men seasons one and two as a Christmas gift and did a marathon viewing of all 26 episodes during the holidays (it was a battle not to take up smoking). (more…)
As we head into Labour Day and the annual Jerry Lewis Telethon, it’s a question that popped into my head.
Not because MDA was one of the early organizations to live stream a broadcast. Nor because their website features Facebook, emotional videos, Twitter and a tote board with a live countdown to the show.
No, this goes back further than that – to the way slapschtick comic Jerry Lewis took on a cause that was close to his heart and lent his celebrity, energy and time to build an engaged community around it. And the approach he used reminds me a lot of social media.
Here’s why:
The organization has grown, created ambassadors and helped many people. And it’s not surprising they’ve embraced social media too. In many ways, they were there from the start. I hope they beat their goal again and find a cure for muscular dystrophy. So tune in, laugh, cry and think about giving to this worthy cause. And follow the conversation #MDATelethon.
By the way, the telethon is also one of my favourite TV experiences. You can read about that here.
The Magic Bullet, that is; the ‘personal, versatile countertop magician’.
I finally succumbed to temptation and ordered one.
I picked it up from the post office earlier in the week. I was expecting my new Visa card and was more than a bit surprised to see the two oversize white boxes, bound together like the machine and I soon will be.
The outside was emblazoned with the product name and the bold promise: It does ANY job in 10 seconds… or less.
ANY job! No wonder it’s magic.
I mean this is no ordinary blender. It’s a solution to all of life’s problems. Hell, it does pretty much anything. Short of money? The magic bullet sends two machines, so if times are tight, you can sell one. Out of quick meal ideas, there’s a mouthwatering booklet full of them. I’ve yet to try them on a news release or PR plan, but I’m sure the results would be just as good.
I’ve been a fan of the Bullet show for a couple of years now. What an extravaganza! It tells the story of a couple whose motley array of party guests stay the night and turn up in the kitchen the next morning, hungover yet ravenous. And the hosts proceed to do their culinary prestidigitation and satisfy everyone’s rather selfish tastes (though I wonder how many heads are aching from that incessant magic buzz).
I have a confession (if you haven’t already guessed): I watch infomercials. Usually in the middle of the night when I have the flu and am unable to sleep. And in my achy feverish state, nothing seems so hopeful as the life they portray. Whether it’s for a thorough cleansing by Dr. Ho, some one-size-fits-all fitness system, the songs of the name-your-decade hosted by a grizzled former icon of that same decade, it doesn’t matter. They soothe me. Offer me hope and dreams of a more perfect existence. And more than once, I’ve lifted the phone to place a call that I am convinced will not only cure my virus, it will lead me to salvation.
From a communications perspective, I think infomercials do a really good job. Each has its own memorable and entertaining story. They stick to their key messages which are polished till they gleam. And they’re always delivered by a knowledgeable (about one subject anyway) spokesperson; smoothly and, if you’re in the right frame of mind, believably.
And yes, they keep it simple – sometimes too simple. (They’re also repetitive and generally lack artistic merit.)
But for me their biggest triumph is that they play commercials for the commercial within the commercial; ad nauseum. And we accept it. Treat it like a play within a play, but with a 1-800 number instead of subtext.