Blog seeders fuck off, die, die, die. |
|
|
To extrapolate further on my comments in the previous posting, here's an example that showed up in my in-box yesterday:
Did you know that becoming a recreational DJ is America’s latest and greatest hobby? Consumers young & old are embracing the newest trend by attending scratch academies, purchasing mixers, turntables and headphones. Not only can you learn to become a DJ in your spare time, you can also make your own mixes and share your personalized creations with your friends and family. I think your readers would be interested in learning how they can begin DJing. I have provided all the information you will need below, including: products, industry terms and tips from professional DJs.
This sort of mass e-mailing, which serves no real purpose whatsoever, just goes to show how retarded the internet has become. The letter that follows is essentially a complete blog post, and provides links to purchase all the pertinent "recreational DJ" gear, already formated for Blogger so you can just copy and paste.
In my opinion (ho, ho, ho) there are three viable forms of blogging. They are the index site (like MatrixSynth) which is a clearing house for material of a particular well-defined subject, the op-ed like this site, where the audience is visiting because the author makes a spectacle of himself, and the magazine blog, like CDM (and to a lesser extent MusicThing), where each posting could easily lay in a print magazine.
All other forms of blogs seem to run the gamut from faintly annoying to out-and-out bait 'n' switch ad farms. The letter above and its attendant pre-made post are obviously designed for the latter. These "How To Get Rich On The Intardtubes" motherfuckers are, of course, perfectly welcome to their corner of the 'web, but they can seriously leave me the fuck out of it. So, Breen Halley of the Max Borges Agency, when you google yourself on your lunch break and this post comes up, it will hopefully serve to reiterate my earlier direct reply that you need to update your fucking address book, titface.
|