These are experiments in QR Codes. At the moment they bring you to a dummy page that I'd like to make a reality eventually.
I think they can be an incredible new way to engage audiences. I see nothing but potential in this technology.
Imagine a world in which you can engage the companies you like on your own terms. A lot of people are afraid of privacy, but I think that this gets around that issue nicely. You actually invite more content by scanning the code. Thus, you only get the advertisement that you really want.
But speaking of privacy, wouldn't it be great to only be advertised things you might really want? I feel like the filter on my brain doesn't need to be as active if advertisers already know to not bother with pitching stuff to me I won't ever want or need. The question "what can they do with all that information they have about us?" always comes up when talking about the future of media, but I have to counter it with, "what would they want to do with it?" The only thing that makes sense is to sell us stuff. . . which is exactly what businesses have always been doing. Now they can more accurately target us. Targeting is a good thing. It keeps you from having to deal with Viagra and Lipitor commercials when you're 15 and from dealing with World of Warcraft ads when you're 72.
Anyway, aren't QR codes cool?
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The Wizard of Ads and Shakespeare and Me
Roy H. Williams is one of my favorite people. He looks at the marketing world in a way that simplifies and articulates his views in a way that compel one to consider his observations throughout the week––if not into perpetuity. I look forward to his MondayMorningMemos every week. It's my favorite things about Mondays.
This week, Roy lamented the world's loss of a genius, J.D. Salinger. Salinger touched every American in some way. He compared the loss to the birth of the iPad, which also will touch every American in some way, I suppose. . . as much as any gadget can.
I wish that the American Shakespeare Center would get a donation that is earmarked for the marketing department so that I could go to Roy's Wizard of Ads Academy. I think it would benefit the company and even all of Staunton. Anyway, I wrote this email to Roy today. I thought I would share it.
Perhaps I should have posted this to my Shakespeare blog. I will post it there, too.
This week, Roy lamented the world's loss of a genius, J.D. Salinger. Salinger touched every American in some way. He compared the loss to the birth of the iPad, which also will touch every American in some way, I suppose. . . as much as any gadget can.
I wish that the American Shakespeare Center would get a donation that is earmarked for the marketing department so that I could go to Roy's Wizard of Ads Academy. I think it would benefit the company and even all of Staunton. Anyway, I wrote this email to Roy today. I thought I would share it.
Dear Roy,
This missive is depressing. I expected you to at least give us something to learn from the death of Salinger and the birth of something dubious.
I've come to expect a lot more on Mondays.
Also, I almost never watch videos through my iPhone. I look up facts, research different things, find guitar chords so that I can entertain friends with music, and I take pictures of events I attend to entice others in VL to join me in RL (sometimes I use it as a telephone). People have been predicting the nadir of culture with every technological advancement since pencil hit paper, and I don't suspect that this pharmakon will be any more poisonous than those that have preceded it. Some will be addicted to the machine, but some will employ the machine to free up intellectual capital for better uses. The only thing that sucks about the iPad (other than its unfortunate moniker) is that it seems like an Apple misfire. It seems like they misread their audience, which seems like a really good topic for your memo. Everything I read online is how lame and off-the-mark the Pad is. Perhaps Steve Jobs should subscribe to your newsletter.
Anyway, thanks for the weekly thoughts. I work in a nonprofit arts organization and will probably never have enough money to come see you, but we in the marketing department find your memos an indispensable part of what we do. A true resource.
Thanks again.
Yours,
Jack
Perhaps I should have posted this to my Shakespeare blog. I will post it there, too.
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