Coffee heat rising

An Unsustainable Business Model? Adsense, Stalking Marketers, Facebook, and all that

Those of you who access this site through its Web page may have noticed that we’ve said farewell to Adsense. The day I went to Macy’s site in search of a handbag on sale and then went to the site of a manufacturer whose style I admired and THEN came here to answer a reader’s comment, only to find an image of one of those purses being FLASHED IN MY FACE from the left-hand ad slot — not just up there, but flashing on and off at me — then reloaded the page to get a new ad that was a trailer for a gruesome, violent movie(!)…that was the day I decided Adsense had to go.

And gone it is.

A couple of years ago, Adsense was making a modest but steady income for Funny, for reasons that I don’t understand. Then, presumably for other reasons that I don’t understand, revenues fell off. More recently, Google has coughed up a hundred bucks about every three or four months. I don’t consider that worth the annoyance of having my site junked up. Nor do I care to have my readers annoyed by Adsense marketers stalking them around.

As a practical matter, my guess is that one reason the Adsense income has gone away is that more people have installed software that blocks advertising. I had such a program on my system for awhile, but had to disable it because I did need to see what Adsense was doing for/to Funny about Money. Heh. Now that the hawkers are gone, I guess I can reinstall that thing. 🙂

More to the point, I deeply resent being stalked by marketers. It gives me the creeps to see images of products for which I’ve idly shopped popping up at every turn on the Web and following me around until I clear all the cookies off my computer.

The other day — sometime within the last week or ten days — New York Times op-ed columnist Joe Nocera wrote a piece speculating that the digital economy has a built-in fatal error: its tendency to “hollow out the middle class.” Allowing that the idea is not original with him, Nocera credits his line of thought to Jaron Lanier, author of Who Owns the Future. The point being made is that digitization of media large and small and of many other kinds of industries has led to the permanent loss of phenomenal numbers of decently paying jobs. To the extent that job opportunities have been replaced, it has largely been by poorly paying (even non-paying!) piecemeal work. Like, for example, blogging for pay…

Kodak is offered as the example of the day. At the top of its game, Kodak employed more than 140,000 people. Instagram, the digital answer to Kodak, employed all of 13 people when it was sold to Facebook for a billion dollars.

Consider: the source of wealth for the likes of Instagram, Facebook, Google is the body of workers — de facto employees or contractors — who create the content that enriches these corporations. None of us are being paid for the work we do — unless you call a hundred bucks a quarter “pay.” Echoing Lanier, Nocera observes that “a digital economy that appears to give things away for free — in return for being able to invade the privacy of its customers for commercial gain — isn’t free at all.” And ultimately, by destroying the middle class (i.e., by eliminating the buying power of huge numbers of consumers), this business model undermines the businesses themselves.

Funny about Money, like most regularly published, competently written blogs, is essentially a micromagazine. As the site’s proprietor, I do everything I did as an editor and writer for Phoenix and Arizona Highways magazines…and then some. In fact, I do the work of about six people: researching, writing, editing, fact checking, freelance management, circulation. The only things I farm out are the digital equivalent of design and layout and (now to a much more limited degree) ad sales. At Phoenix, we had a half-dozen ad space sales reps, four designers, five editors, and a publisher. At Arizona Highways, which does not sell ad space, we had three editors (one of them very high-powered), a photo editor, three or four graphic designers, a marketing executive, a production manager, and a publisher. All of these were full-time jobs. In addition, both publications had substantial stables of freelance writers, photographers, and artists, who created most of the content.

In contrast, Funny about Money employs — if that’s the word that can be used — one writer/editor/publisher/circulation manager, one digital designer, and one two-person ad management company. None of those positions can be honored with the term “job.” And none of the work earns anything like a living wage, at least not off this site alone.

Funny can easily publish 25 or 30 articles a month. A monthly magazine publishes nothing like that much feature-length copy — those editorial staffs of upwards of a dozen people took about six or eight full-length articles to print each month, embellished by several fluffy little departments that, in the case of Phoenix Magazine, were essentially advertorial. Thus, as proprietor of FaM, I do about four times as much work for virtually no pay. Instead, what I get, in the construct that is digital marketing, is commercial exploitation by Google.

How can this possibly be sustainable? Sooner or later, the very basis of these outfits’ business model will collapse. It doesn’t make sense to work for nothing, and when fewer and fewer talented people can get jobs, then fewer and fewer dollars will be available to spend on the products the digital companies’ customers are advertising. Eventually, those customers will figure that out…and quit wasting their money on digital advertising.

Lanier suggests that site owners should be paid when their information is used: “content creators would receive micropayments” whenever their content is accessed.

Since FaM gets thousands of unique visitors a month, that would turn blogging into a sustainable model for me. If Google were paying me every time someone accesses a post, I might not object to running ads on my sites.

But for the time being, there’s nothing in it for me.

Along the same lines, following droves of young people I have pretty much abandoned Facebook. That thing is just too, too creepy for my taste. There, too, one is stalked by marketers pimping ads for whatever you might have happened to have seen on the Web. Worse, thanks to Facebook’s exploitive (non)privacy policies, anything you say or “like” in an unguarded moment can be used, with no payment to you, in an ad for some random product, and you give away all rights to any photographs or other creative content you post there.

That, my friends, amounts not only to an unconscionable invasion of your privacy but also to a gigantic. fucking. RIPOFF. Creative property is exactly that: property. Just because it appears on the Internet does not mean you should or do forfeit your rights to decide how and by whom it will be used, and for how much payment.

I’m not taking my FB profile down, much as I would like to, because FaM goes up there and so is distributed to everyone in the choir and to other friends who subscribe to FB. Ditto Twitter. But I don’t go there anymore, and I certainly don’t post comments there.

Sheeple, it is true, are stupid en masse. But we’re not that stupid. Sooner or later we figure it out. And when we do, the herd ambles away.

Pup Is BORN!

S/HE’S HERE!

Saydees Pups Born 2014

SEVEN brand-new corgi puppies, born last night of their mom, Saydee. Think of that: seven!

That means for sure Cassie and I will get some dibs on this litter. We were number 8 in the list of prospective corgi servants, and five pups were born in the group that came into being last month.

Another of the breeder Lindsay‘s excellent dams came into heat a week or two ago, so they bred her, too, to their radically expensive, meticulously tested, outrageously genetically perfect sire. So if for any reason I imagine that the Ideal Companion for the Queen of the Universe is not in this litter, we should be at the head of the list for the next.

This litter has four  males and three females. I had been thinking that I’d like a King Consort for Her Exalted Highness, since tradition holds that it’s best to bring a male dog into the house when you have a female, males being more submissive and so less likely to get obstreperous with the resident owner. However, some corgis can get pretty hefty. At 24 – 25 pounds, Cassie actually is a fairly petite corgi — and the males do get significantly bigger. In my old age, the whole idea of getting a smaller breed than the beloved German shepherd is so that I can lift the critter. The back pain sure isn’t gonna go away at this stage, and so it probably would be wise to try to keep the new royalty’s size on the smaller side. So…maybe we really want a Duchess to take her place as lady in waiting and vice-regent to the Queen of the Universe and Empress of all Time, Space, and Eternity.

Heh. Don’t you love that Saydee? She looks like a little cowgirl to me, kinda spunky and outdoorsy. We may have to call the pup Dale Evans. 😀

And of course, that will require us to have a Ram 1500 SLT. Right? With the six-banger and a nice gold-plated gun rack…

A Good Reason to Keep Emergency Water & Propane on Hand

Good grief. Did you see this morning’s news? Hundreds of thousands of people are banned from using their tap water, thanks to an industrial chemical spill into the Elk River, which flows through Charleston!

Ever been in Charleston? It’s a real city with a real economy, which has now skidded to the proverbial screeching halt. Restaurants are closed, hotel customers are canceling, schools have shut down, and people are having to stand in line upwards of an hour to get trucked-in water.

An interesting page from a technical site offers some insight into just how toxic this fine substance is. Under “Safety Information,” click on the links next to “Risk statements” and “Safety statements”; in the sections that come up, navigate to the numbers shown in those live links in “risk” and “safety” statements. Holy mackerel! Irritating to eyes, skin, respiratory system…and “safety statements”? There’s twelve of them.

This is not some far-fetched terrorist attack. It’s not an unlikely natural disaster like a tornado or a brushfire ripping its way through the downtown of a major city. It’s just the cost (to the citizenry…that would be the likes of you and me) of doing business in an unregulated or laxly regulated economy. Hey…what are a few sick kids when there’s billions of bucks to be made?

The perp does business as “Freedom Industries.” Heh…no joke! Wave that flag.

It’s a good reason to have a couple of carboys full of water on hand at all times. And it reminds me that mine is getting mighty old — time to pour it on the plants, rinse out the containers, and refill the things.

By extension, I think it’s also a reminder to always have an extra tank of propane, which you can use for cooking if the power or gas goes out. Just refilled one yesterday, having noticed that the tank in the BBQ is running low. I keep three propane bottles on hand, but in my recent spate of a) incapacity and b) bone-laziness, I failed to refill two of them and have let one come close to running out. I’d better take the other one over to U-Haul later today and get that thing topped off.

Water, propane, and at least a few stores of canned foods and dry staples such as rice, beans, and flour: Don’t get caught without ’em!

Puppy-wuppies!

Awwwwww! The puppies are born!!! Lindsay of Corgi Corral sends pix of the first litter:

1 female Babies Day Out 083Girl puppy!↑

3 femaleGirl puppy!↑

6 femaleGirl puppy!↑

6 maleBoy puppy!↑

7 maleBoy puppy!↑

More to come. A second litter by another mom has been examined in utero: five or maybe six pups. Since I’m eighth on the waiting list, presumably Cassie’s new puppy will be coming along with the second batch.

How cute ARE they, anyway???

 

 

Tree Barbering

Something about this summer — maybe the two very brief periods of heavy rain? — inspired the shrubbery around the house to burst into hyper-growth. Trees and shrubs that had been quiescent for the past two or three years suddenly put on what seemed like two or three years’ worth of growth, as though they were making up for lost time.

Within what seemed like a matter of weeks, the normally well-behaved olive in front was trying to take over the courtyard — it had almost blocked the walkway to the front door. The paloverde almost regained all the growth that got cut back last winter. The man-eating palo brea in front was again reaching its claws toward the sidewalk, there best to rip out the eyeballs of unwary passers-by. The tiger-clawed Texas ebony had officially made repainting the east wall impossible. The devil-pod tree on the west side again threatened to drop a branch on the roof. And the desert willow, once so handsomely trimmed, was back in bramble mode.

An arborist who owns a thriving landscaping business lives in the neighborhood. To give you an idea of how thriving: he lives in the part with the half-million to million-dollah homes. One of his contracts entails maintenance of all the trees and palms on the Sun City golf courses. For those of you who don’t live around here: the Sun Cities are vast. And they have a lot of golf courses. A lot. Anyway, I saw him the other day, introduced myself, and engaged him to clean up my yard and also got him in to see my neighbor, who had remarked that they needed tree trimming, too.

For $680, the guy and his foreman showed up with about six guys, whom they sent aloft. They pruned — very professionally — six large trees, two of which I would classify as “difficult” because of fierce thorns or overgrowth or both. They did such a nice job! I felt like it was about the best $680 I’ve spent on this joint in quite awhile! 🙂

Here’s one of the guys (through the screen…sorry!) with just SOME of the debris from the side-yard trees.

P1020765As usual with WordPress, you have to click on these images to actually see them very well.

Don’t have a “before” of the olive, but it’s wonderfully cleaned out and lightened now. It had gotten so heavily overgrown I was afraid the next monsoon would break off limbs. Now the wind can blow right through it without harm. And now that I can reach the thing, I need to get out there and trim back the berserk Texas sage. Very soon.

P1020770And the fierce palo brea is now so tall that, the way they’ve trimmed it up, that thing won’t be raking any passers-by’s heads for at least another year or so.

P1020772Well, folks, this project was about the only thing that got done today that didn’t leave my nerves jangling and my teeth grinding. I have had another long, workful, frustrating day from hell in the editorial biz and the teaching vocation. And now, pretty much reduced to inarticulate, I am going to bed.

When It Rains…

Wow! The sheer amount of work that’s pouring in the door defies belief!

One pair of clients, co-editors of a collection of original essays, is ready to send their (really wonderful!) MS to University of New Mexico Press. Naturally, we prepared it in APA style — most of the contributors are social scientists or in businesses or professions that use APA. UNM wants, much more naturally, Chicago style. So tons of reference sections have to be completely reformatted, creating a monster headache. The press has a number of other idiosyncracies that will require reformatting the body copy for every damn essay, too — morphing what is normally a large job into a ridiculous job.

I’m now halfway through one of three books emanating from another client. This also is an extraordinarily interesting collection of his own essays, well written, unusual, and engaging.

Yet another client is having a good time rewriting chapter after chapter and sending them back for new reviews.

Another Singaporean graduate student showed up at the doorstep, begging for help on her English-language dissertation in an arcane subject. Foisted that project onto the associate editor, being beyond maxed myself.

I sent off a proposal for the novel — 53 pages, all told — to the agent who was advertised (ahem…last October) as being in the market for adult fiction. Naturally after I’d e-mailed it I spotted a typo. Never fails. Anyway, that was a huge job: to write the narrative outline required me to synopsize 79 chapters. Short chapters (average length is around 2000 words), but still…79 of them. Then I had to tighten and blend all that copy into the most compact form I could come up with and try to do it in an engaging way. And add a query, and a table of contents, and a new bio and on and on and on. As you can imagine, by the time I finished that, I was whipped.

Then the division chair at Heavenly Gardens pounced: asked if I would teach an online section of English 102. Welp…online is the only circumstance in which I would agree to do such a thing (and even then, it’s iffy). But he sounded like his back was against the wall, and besides, I can always use some more spending money.

In the new simplified bookkeeping regime, teaching income does not get hoarded, as was the case in the cookie-jar scheme. I’m now using drawdowns from Fidelity and the S-corp plus Social Security to cover base costs of living, and the teaching income will cover short-term emergencies and small indulgences. That’s assuming I can get said drawdowns: the bank rejected Fidelity’s attempt to deposit 15 grand, claiming the name on the account didn’t match the account number. Lovely. So I had to spend part of yesterday morning hassling with that, as if I didn’t have enough to do.

The North Scottsdale Chamber has folded and melded itself into the Greater Scottsdale Chamber. For moi, the result has been that the North Phoenix Chamber has been actively soliciting me to come over there — and really, I’d rather, because they do meet at venues a lot closer to where I live. The weekly trips to Scottsdale for the Scottsdale Business Assn meetings provide about enough junkets to the east side, thanks.

And finally, just to put the frosting on the cupcake, I’m getting another cold. Damn it. I wasn’t over the last one! I’ve already missed three weeks of choir…I may have to drop out for the rest of the year, since I can’t sing while I’m coughing and gagging. Went to bed after 11 p.m., having wrestling with copy for something over four hours, and then spent most of the night awake choking and gasping for air. The first stage of a cold often causes a throat spasm for me — so far they haven’t killed me, but I’ll tellya, last night’s was damn scary. Oh well. There’s usually only one…hope that will be it.

And so…to feed the dog and then get started writing that 102 syllabus. Ain’t retirement grand?

Cheers!