4 Fuks Saké

"Do Me A Favour Instagram. Oh, You Have."

5 times a week I'll use the phrase 'Oh for fuck's sake." It's been eight months since I've done that and then felt compelled to write something on my blog with the same name. It's Instagram again.

I refer you to my April post, about Silicon Valley entrepreneurs' ingenuity at duping people who wear expensive trainers for their own commercial gain. This week, they've said they're going to sell photos of your kids to McDonalds, who'll in turn advertise Big Macs. That's what I've understood it to be anyway. 

Four things.

1. This bloke nails it, citing this collective sense of self-delusion. Search #coffee and look: there's your shot of a latte, filtered in Hudson, alongside 450,000 others. 

2. Your photo was rubbish. Instagram made it look nicer, so much so, that you felt compelled to share it with others. As far as I'm aware, you haven't paid them since you opened your account.

3. Instagram have been stupid. The more avid a user of social media you are, the greater your propensity to attention seek. So attention seekers (their core audience) pour through social T&Cs with the meticulousness of a Manhattan lawyer. They do it for their own benefit, not the crowd. I don't believe Facebook and Instagram want to sell pictures of my kids to Exxon, nor do I think lawyers will allow them to. If they can, who's the bell end for putting them there in the first place? Howevere, if they want to sell pictures of my uncooked ribeyes or empty espresso cups, that's a fair deal for me.

4. If you don't like it, vote with your feet. Go to Flickr's new app or the next photo sharing network you've yet to hear of. They'll end up doing the same thing to you.

"Hey Guys, I'm A Bit Uncomfortable You Made A $1bn. Let's Have A Diet Coke And Talk."

I've held an opinion for a while that a large proportion of people working in social media had sand kicked in their faces at school. Technology has always been 'nerdy' and there is a revelling in the outsider term 'geek.' Naturally, social media in its infant years attracted the types who worked their way up from Star Wars figures through to circuit boards. 

Woe betide anyone that leaves the geek crowd and gets accepted by the in crowd. Backs will be turned.  

Like Instagram. They had the audacity to take $1bn off Facebook. They have "sold out."  People get fucked off and talk of betrayal. The issue seems to be that:

a) They took money off the big enemy, Facebook.

b) That Instagram made the user feel special and important, and now they don't.

I would suggest the following.

1. People come up with ideas and go to work to try and make money. That includes the founders of Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, Facebook, and whatever a couple of people in San Francisco are working on right now, that we'll fall in love with later this year or early next.

2. People with relaxed dress codes, white teeth, and nice smiles from California, are adept at making geeks feel special. Like the Instagram "guys" pictured. Wouldn't you just love to have a Diet Coke with them? They give them things to play with. Coax personal information out of them to make money, and then persuade them to promote the whole process.

3. If someone makes $1bn out of something like nice pictures of babies, cats and food - rather than oil or guns, then that's a good thing. 

4. If you are uncomfortable with Instagram making money in the social media industry, stop doing it yourself. Stop walking into publications and/or businesses asking for much smaller amounts of money to advise on how to use Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest etc...to make money. 

5. If you don't like Facebook, delete your account.

Congratulations to Instagram. I love your product, I love your work, and I'm glad you're making money. As Paul Carr, said "They didn't sell out, they just sold. They're a company, not the fucking Rolling Stones."

 

The Football Map Of London

I like this. From here. 

Tesco. Fat And Knackered.

I think they’re in trouble. Well, I say trouble. Tesco announced profits of £3.7bn in the UK this morning so they’re hardly in shit. More than we made last year. 

That said, shareholders aren’t going to take too kindly to days when the share price drops 16%.

The headlines say the supermarket's Christmas campaign failed to entice shoppers into store. This won't be a marketing issue, but an operational one. This is a company that is massive, bloated and listless. Its non-food businesses have done bonkers numbers in the last few years, and now occupy enormous acres of floor space. The shrinking core food business retracts apologetically, literally in front of the eyes of customers.

Its massive bloatedness and no doubt hideous bureaucracy, will be hampering clear thinking and communication. Its nearest and dearest rivals remain crystal in the conscious of the public. ASDA – price. Sainsbury’s – value. Waitrose – posh. Lidl/ALDI – cheap. Tesco? Huge and "I don’t know where everything is."

For a large of the population that’s the level of decision-making as the keys go into the ignition.

You've got to feel for CEO, Philip Clarke - the Wilf McGuinness to Sir Terry Leahy's Matt Busby. They’ve got a few issues in there, and they're not going to be fixed in a quarter. 

Pic: MrLomo/Flickr

A Nice Film About A Place I Used To Live

Racism: 140 Characters Probably Not Enough

It's not easy being a politician in 2012 for five reasons.

1. You are born with an in-built lack of humility based on your assumption you are qualified to govern. 

2. You're surrounded by people who are exactly the same.

3. You've done nothing with your life other than train to, or be, a politician. 

4. You cannot see the wood for the trees. 

5. That's it.

Reason 4 is the only explanation I can find for Diane Abbott choosing to use Twitter to pile into a complex debate around race, the day Stephen Lawrence's murderers are banged up. I - like many others - like her. She strikes me as someone who has three virtues you rarely see in a politician. She's honest, passionate and brave. (On bravery, how else to explain her Labour leadership bid?)

Politicians and Twitter are going to end up eating each other. Watch Question Time or listen to Any Questions, and it's not enough to listen to the views of 5 guests and an audience of 100 people. You have to have a Dimbleby stumbling over the term 'hashtag' before they start.

In its purest form, politics is about shaping a debate and influencing people within a larger narrative called society. Ideas and arguments need oxygen. They need room to breathe. They generally need more than 140 characters. Speeches, articles, print, blogs, podcasts. They're all there. And we do have time to think about these things.

Just use 130 characters and a bit.ly next time Diane. Save yourself a world of shit. 

(Pic: Flickr/Amnesty International UK)

Fat Mitchell/Webb/Abbott

Diane Abbott tweets before she thinks. Which reminded me of this.

 

Dennis Wise Up

"We haven't considered making them a big offer because we believe that they are fans of Chelsea Football Club and want to do what's best for Chelsea Football Club and we've offered them a couple of things relating to their role as a fan." Bruce Buck, Chairman, Chelsea FC. 

So concludes one of the most objectionable, offensive and idiotic quotes from a football businessman since...er...since probably Garry Cook tried to pin the cancer gag on the IT guy.

Nearly 20 years ago Chelsea were shit, playing in front of 20,000 South/South West Londoners. Today, visiting fans to a packed Stamford Bridge sing the simple song: "Where were you when you were shit?" Answer: anywhere but there. 

Except for a minority. A minority were actually there when they were shit, and some organised themselves to buy the freehold to keep football in SW6. Nice little patch that for property developers, after all. You could imagine a hotel there, maybe some restaurants. Oh, hold on. 

Since then, a lot of people have got rich at Chelsea. Players. Managers. Sacked managers. Peter Kenyon. Marco Pierre White. The hotel people. A bunch of other knobheads.

A lot of people have got poorer at Chelsea. The fans. Football is more expensive than it used to be, but the game is the same.

Football is big business as Buck, Richard Scudamore are keen to tell the FT and Asian-based sponsors. Fans become a customer database. The club becomes a vehicle to talk to a global market. Fans will stay in line of course, do what they're told, they'll be 'loyal.' Clubs beseech them to be 'true fans.'

Hypocrisy, insensitivity and ignorance knows no bounds in football. CPO: you're part of the business not the football. Tell Buck to do one and pay the market rate. You deserve recognition financially for the commercial value of your contribution.

Yours,

A QPR fan.

The Economics Of Prostitution

The prostitution industry has had a good couple of months. The pendulum of tabloid coverage swings ferociously from heroin-addled serial killer victims to posh, classy girls earning well off the rich. The industry walks a constant tightrope as it attempts to attract talent to its workforce, and income from its customer base. Of late, we're seeing a lot more of the Sophias and Fionas and fewer Joannes and Paulines who 'sadly grew apart from their families.'

Amongst all the super injunction bits and pieces, various news outlets have reported a short story about "Wayne Rooney vice girl Helen Wood." Helen, 24, appears to be super-injuncted and as a result has suggested she may head to the US, steer clear of UK libel laws, and get a book published. Helen, it is reported, was paid £195 for sex with someone. 

I have never gone commercial, nor have any plans to do so. However, £195 feels an obtainable sum for a mainstream customer let alone someone rich and famous. For Helen the supplier, it seems the margins are starting to slim. After all, I recall Helen's ancestors - women like Heather Mills - who it was reported earned thousands a session, and comfortably six-figure annual salaries.

Clearly the business model is changing. Much like the video games industry or the mobile industry it seems simple. Cut the price at entry level (free phone, cheap console; in the case of prostitution just under £200 for the full English).  Then once they're in, rake it in. In video games that's software; in mobiles, data.  In Helen's case, £195 opens up a world of book deals, tip-off fees, PAs and then finally compensation from News International for having hacked her phone in the first place. 

This Is The Self-Delusional Society

 
Is Bryan Ferry alive or just a high res jpg?

Ferry - to whom you can add Jo Wood, Ed Vaizey, Tamara Mellon, Time, CNN, airline gold cards, and the phrase "I just can't live without my iPod Nano" - all operate in the parallel universe that is business travel lifestyle. It's a place that has no relation with reality. It is a phrase that is the definition of an oxymoron.

Travelling on Eurostar this evening, I look at my bag on the rack and have to ask myself the uncomfortable question - why have I got a Cathay Pacific gold luggage tag attached to it? I haven't lived in Hong Kong for four years. I'm clearly no longer 'gold.' Marcus Wareing's face smiles benignly at me from the cover of Metropolitan magazine. Looks interesting - 'I wonder what his latest "pioneering restaurant venture," will be?' Or do I. Do I fuck in fact. Marcus sorry pal, off to Nando's with the kids on Saturday. And actually I've no idea who you are.  

Amongst all this, it's not abundantly clear that any woman has ever travelled. Boys collect football stickers, then they get a career and collect air miles. It's only men who wear airline luggage tags on their business. It's only men who absorb all this then subsequently have mid life crises. It's probably the reason Tiger Woods lost it - believed his own Accenture airport billboards.

Publishers - there is a gap here for someone to fill. I give you some leeway - you can create an iPad version if you like. But how about a title that is more reflective of the reality?

Boredom. Poor phone receptions. Dinners for one. Dinners with men you don't know very well. Propositions at 2am next to lifts. Unnecessary or unwanted drinking. The darkness behind a hotel room door. 

Probably not the most uplifting of reads - but then again, I enjoyed Nil By Mouth.