A co-worker showed me a copy of a Ray Bradbury short story* where a family whose daughter suffers from a mysterious ennui-tinged illness. Rather than waste money on doctors, the family turns the conundrum into a going concern. On the premise that people are nearly incapable of withholding their advice (particularly when they can't be proven wrong), the family decides to charge all comers who wish to dispense their wisdom. (The story does have a happy, albeit suggestive ending, so no worries about the sick young lady.)
Unfortunately, that was nearly 20 years ago, and I cannot remember the story's title. But it immediately popped into mind when I saw the above ad on the "Weregeek" online comic strip tonight. Yes, I understand that we're living in an age of blogs and YouTube channels and podcasts and what-not. No better time to be alive, if you're creative.
But, really. If a professional musician doesn't write their own material, wouldn't you agree that Mr. Cruz (and his corporate sponsor) is dragging crowdsourcing down the rabbit-hole just a bit? True, the fans know what they like, and will probably draft something suited to Mr. Cruz's style. But--all things considered--it's an admission that there's nothing particularly special separating amateurs and professionals--at least in terms of talent (luck, self-promotion and an immunity to certain lifestyle elements are another story).
And that's a fiction we can certainly do without, particularly if we hope to enter a post-payola meritocracy of talent. Plus, if Coca-Cola and Taio Cruz raise their brand equity through careful management of crowdsourced talent, I (for one) would be keen to expand the scope. Here, in my opinion, are a few areas where crowd-sourcing could be put to good use in leveling the playing field between the buskers and rock stars of other professions.
A.) The seat for Minnesota's 6th Congressional district could be thrown open to an essay-writing contest for 8th Grade History students. (Bonus: The current incumbent could take the winner's place, which would be a win-win situation if I ever heard of one...)
B.) Assuming the immediate family and/or descendants of Paul the Octopus can be located and a big enough tank devised to hold the logos of all publicly-traded companies, Jim Cramer and his ilk could be easily--and far more entertainingly--"delisted."
C.) Some white-haired Australian dude could cultivate inside sources and put power and privilege under the microscope with documentation, rather than peddle opinions and press releases under the name of "journalism." Oh...wait...that's already being done, isn't it? Dang--I knew that sounded familiar. Sorry: My bad...
D.) Dark Shadows fan-fic could readily fill America's appetite for vampire porn, thus freeing up parsecs of bookshelf-space for literature that doesn't make Ann Rice look like Jane Austen by comparison.
E.) Admit it: You know as well as I do that Board of Directors meetings would be far more fun--and infinitely better-informed-as flash-mobs recruited from the mail room, call centers, janitors' closets, reception desks, etc.
F.) Womens' apparel/lingerie catalogs and the PhotoShop Disasters website: Same deal except for the dead trees part--am I right?
G.) Neilson ratings vs. YouTube/Hulu router logs: Again, 'nuff said.
H.) The clubby inanity of Superbowl commentary could be replaced with thoughtful analysis by filling the stadium with retired high school football coaches (and a few Vegas bookies) armed with laptops and close-captioning the game with randomly selected tweets.
I.) Rather than subsidize yet another comic book hero's CGI'd splash onto the big screen, can we please all agree to fire up the air-popper and settle down to stop-motion Lego animation on YouTube on Friday nights?
J.) Rather than give faux-libertarian pundits another pretext for hyperventilating, census takers will merely friend up said pundits and copy all the necessary information from their Facebook profiles.
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* The story might be part of the I Sing the Body Electric anthology--whose "The Terrible Conflagration Up at the Place" is worth the price of admission. (Not ROFL-funny, but I double-dog-dare you to not smile when the subject of French art comes up after you've read it.) Then again, it might not. The same co-worker introduced me to "Conflagration" at the same time.
