Friday, June 20, 2008

Apparently I misbehaved on Facebook...

...because I got this message today:



So something I did violated their terms of use. I'd love to know what it was, because I'm generally not hateful or threatening, nor have I attacked an individual or group. And I certainly don't spam my friends or post obscene content on Facebook. Everybody knows that's what MySpace is for. When I went looking for some explanation, I learned this from Facebook's Warning FAQ:

Can I see the removed content?
Unfortunately, for technical and security reasons, users cannot view the removed content ... Please go through your profile and make sure to take down any other offensive or objectionable material that violates our Terms of Use.

Hmmm. So I can't know what I did, but I have to know that it was wrong, and I need to check the "I acknowledge that I have read this information" box to prove my repentance. I wish I knew what I was repenting of. Another FAQ told me this:

Wall/Discussion Board Posts that are not permitted include:
  • Posts that advertise a product, service, website, or commercial event

Just this bullet marks a huge demarcation between the Facebook and the MySpaces, as the latter's free use of HTML in comment fields was one of the primary things that a) drove adoption, and b) turned it into spamtown. Clearly there's a balance between the two—I have no idea what I did to trigger a report from Facebook, and I should at least be pointed to some sort of indicator as to what was inappropriate. If I post a link to a Daily Show clip, is that advertising a product, or sharing content in the way social media championed? Even if I post links to my own blog, video feed or Flickr stream, it's sharing content, though I rarely do this on Facebook. The more I think about it, the more I'm baffled at what I could've done. I half expect them to follow up with an apology that says this message went out to everyone.

That said, I kind of enjoy having sinned against Facebook. On MySpace, the sins are scarlett, like a semi-porn profile pic against glitter gif wallpaper. But on Facebook, the sins are white as snow, amorphous, mysterious. It makes me wonder how bad I really was...

Saturday, June 14, 2008

I dreamt of Chico Marx and Dave Chappelle

In a new series here robgetzschman.com, I'll catalog an ongoing series of celebrity encounters that occur, literally, in my dreams. 

Last night I dreamed that I was explaining the racial humor of Dave Chappelle to Chico Marx. Chico said, "I no like-a the 'n' word." I tried to put it in perspective for Chico, telling him about Chappelle's show and career as a black comedian in a white world.

But then Chico turned into Chappelle, and we were just hanging out at a club.

FIN

Chico Marx Dave Chappelle


Thursday, June 12, 2008

My Cannes coverage has become the summer fashion

Due to a favorable review in the LA Times, my video coverage on the Cannes lifestyle has garnered the attention of 937 people everywhere! At least, that's the YouTube count after a day. The video, which premiered at LinkedIn headquarters in Mountain View yesterday, was seen by Times blogger Jessica Guynn, who had this to say:
"We think Jon Stewart should give this guy a Palme d’Or. Getzschman is a natural Rob Riggle."
We here at robgetzschman.com laud Jessica's eye for talent and good taste. Clearly she's got a sixth sense about these things. We'll be keeping an eye on her work. See the video below, followed by links to the review and my original post on LinkedIn's company blog.



Link to LA Times tech blog / Link to original post on the LinkedIn company blog.

UPDATE: ValleyWag hails the video as "cheesy", showing that they comprehend the underlying premise of humor. Kudos! And also that Yahoo could take a lesson from LinkedIn's marketing. 

UPDATE: Since YouTube doesn't rep the hi-res, download an mp4 of the video:

320x240 (10.3 MB) or 480x360 (48.9 MB)

Special thanks to Rose Chamberlain for her camerawork and Marcio with Telemetrik for use of the song "Nova"!

I saw Bono stalk Woody Allen at Cannes

I've been an avid conference goer over the last few months, as my job has me going to many of them representin' and whatnot. So I've become very familiar with the post-panel stalk. Conferencegoers want to talk to the famous guy on the panel, they move to the front of the stage, they wait patiently for the appropriate moment to corner them and move in for the kill. I've seen it done to LinkedIn founder Reid Hoffman, to Toto's David Paitch, to Bob Lefsetz. I know the stalk well, though I generally eschew it. I did it to Steve "guitar" Miller in April, just to tell him I was amazed how fresh he kept his catalog, and that he was a good sport hanging around to be stalked. He said he lives out in the country, so it's nice to see people.

Another guy did it to me, feeling me out to see if I was famous. When he realized I wasn't, he asked me to take a photo of him with Natasha Beddingfield.

But in Cannes, I saw something remarkable: I saw Bono stalk Woody Allen.

Bono is about as big as you can get. If Bono can get a lunch with Africa, I'm pretty sure he can get Woody Allen on the phone. But in Cannes, I saw Bono stalk Woody Allen after the screening of Vicki Christina Barcelona like a hopeful sales rep dogging Steve Ballmer. In fact, I got a photo of it:



There, see him? That's Rebecca Hall in front of Woody, and behind them both is Bono. Let's look closer.



See Woody to the left of Rebecca? And Bono behind, clapping his rhythm-gifted rock star hands to mask the post-panel stalk. I was there. I saw it. See Fig. 1:



Bono is the leader of the free world. Why is he stalking Woody Allen? Woody is an auteur, and certainly celebrated in France, but can't Bono just have his people call Woody's people? Does Bono need to bust the Cannes post-premiere screening stalk on Woody?



He moves in mysterious ways. With mysterious orange safety glasses.



They say it's in the eyes. Bono's fathomless eyes, that have beheld other worlds than these. They seem to be saying, "If I can get between him and Rebecca Hall..."



There are some things mere men may never know. But Bono knows.

Bono Knows.