The Murrays are moving today. From now on, for protests and political rallies, open-air concerts and quarterly town halls, you may gather in front of 2336 W. Cortez, Chicago, IL 60622.
Not really, but as I explain in a guest post on Online Video Publishing [dot] com blog, it should be.
And corporate communicators are figuring out how to make videos that compete with the most riveting stuff YouTube has to offer.
And they're entering their videos into the Strategic Video Awards, of which I am chair.
(Deadline, Oct. 26.)
Back in the bad old days when media was massive and I towered above the tiny non-income-tax-paying masses as editor-in-chief of such mighty periodicals as The Ragan Report and the Journal of Employee Communication Management—back then, I didn't answer every email I received.
And the truth was, many letter writers didn't expect to hear back when they wrote to me, any more than they expected a thoughtful reply to every letter they wrote to President Clinton, or Ted Williams. Not writing people back—or choosing whom I wrote back, and when—was one way we all came to understand our relative power. (A friend of mine once accused a colleague of building himself up by strategically increasing the calliber of people he refused to call back.)
But these days, like most people whose arrogance has been overtaken by their terror of bad karma—I do reply to pretty much every email I get.
In fact, I reply immediately, in order to get the fucking thing out of the way as fast as possible.
For instance, a woman sent me a video to see if was something I'd like to run at the website of ContentWise, an ezine I edit (and to which you should subscribe). I watched the video. It wouldn't be remotely interesting to my readers. I wrote her back and let her down easy.
She thanked me for my response, then asked, "Do you know anyone that may be interested in my video?"
Now that email I didn't reply to.
A PR woman asked me what I thought of a book she'd sent me to review. I replied by thanking her for sending the book. And without hesitation, because now that I reply to anyone, I definitely don't have time to reply thoughtfully, I added that the book was "inanity bordering on insanity. I can't believe anybody took the time to gather this many worthless bromides and put them between two covers. You've got to get off this project immediately. [The author] is hopeless, but it's not too late to save yourself."Then a reader of Executive Communication Report, another free ezine that I edit (and to which you should also subscribe), asked me to bawl out a PR guy at a small college. My reader had written the PR guy—we'll call him Jeff Postman—to inquire about a freelance writing assignment he had, that I'd listed in the ezine. But he didn't write her back. So she wrote me, wondering if I might write him, "to let him know that when people take the time and effort to respond, it's nice to at least acknowledge it, even if he's made a different choice."
Dear Mr. Postman,
It has come to my attention that a reader of my weekly Executive Communication Report saw your ad for a freelance speechwriter, responded to it, and didn’t hear back from you despite two follow-ups and a nice phone message! Just what kind of man are you, Mr. Postman?
David Murray, Editor
Executive Communication Report
Maybe I should go back to ignoring some of my mail—for all our sakes.
Been thinking lately about my late paramedic pal Ed Reardon, who's been gone four years—from the world, but not from me.
"I think of poems all the time," he said one night in Laschett's tavern. "I make 'em in my head. But once I think a poem, I never feel like writing it down. It's there! It's in my head! It's done!"
I asked him why he didn't just pick up a pencil and copy the things down. He looked at me like a CEO being told to take minutes in a board meeting.
He shook his head.
Then he winked.
"Some of these poems?" he nodded. "Pretty good."
I know nobody comes here for political opinions. Nobody goes anywhere for political opinions. At this point, we're all looking for a place to hide from political opinions.
But a guy really does have to decide whether he is running for president of a nation so awesomely exceptional that it never has to say it's sorry, or he's vying to run a joint where half the citizens share the ambition of Bridget Fonda in Jackie Brown: "to get high and watch TV."
As I say in my McMurry.com report on Content Marketing World 2012: I'm more than 40 years old. When a thousand otherwise sensible people flock to a flashy conference organized around a new idea, I giggle nervously. On my way to the conference.
To tell you the truth, I don't remember much for Content Marketing World, held in Columbus last week. Luckily I snuck a video camera in.
Get a load of this.
At a private fundraiser earlier this year, Mitt Romney apparently said this:
There are 47 percent of the people who will vote for the president no matter what. All right, there are 47 percent who are with him, who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims, who believe the government has a responsibility to care for them, who believe that they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you-name-it. That that's an entitlement. And the government should give it to them. And they will vote for this president no matter what…These are people who pay no income tax....my job is is not to worry about those people. I'll never convince them they should take personal responsibility and care for their lives.
I've spent a fair amount of time studying Mitt Romney and his father George. Though I like George better than Mitt, I trust Detroit guys not to be total, utter unconscionable jagoffs. So I honestly didn't believe this quote when I first saw it.
But here's the hidden video.
Maybe he's just trying to impress rich donors by telling them what he thinks they want to hear ...
... but then why does he sound more confident and sincere than I've ever heard him sound before?
Obama opponents are going to compare this to Obama's similar private-fundraiser comment, four years ago, about working-class midwest voters: "And it's not surprising then that they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."
The difference is, Obama could stand behind the essential truth and humanity of his remark: "Obviously, if I worded things in a way that made people offended, I deeply regret that. But the underlying truth of what I said remains, which is simply that people who have seen their way of life upended because of economic distress are frustrated and rightfully so."
Can Romney stand behind his characterization of nearly half the American electorate?