It bears repeating. When I put up a web page and allow it to remain in place for a while, I never delete it. I edit it, re-design it, re-purpose it . . . or as a last resort I redirect it, but I don’t delete it. The reason I don’t delete it is because I really hate it when somebody else deletes a web page I have linked to.

Linking is the lifeblood of the Web. Deep linking, or linking to specific interior pages, is the only type of linking that I do. I find exactly the right reference and point to it. I don’t say, “The exact right reference is somewhere on this web site, go find it yourself.”

Then, things get moved around or re-named. Links go dead when they shouldn’t. There is no reason for it except ignorance or indifference. It’s like money down the drain. Plus, it’s a big pain in the ass for me, and it makes me think twice about linking to your site ever again.

Maybe you’re not as smart as I once thought you were.

When a writer sits down to write, there is a confrontation with the void.  A blank piece of paper or empty computer screen stands for the existential emptiness that asks to be filled with something new.  The artist’s or writer’s pretension is that the by filling up this emptiness she is engaged in a pure act of creation.

That never is the case.   The new is always built upon millennial accretions of what went before.  For one additional foot of coastal marshland to rise above the surface of the Gulf of Mexico, the Mississippi delta mud must spread for a mile further out upon the bottom of the sea.  The first word written on an empty page is contingent on a thousand years of linguistic blending and mutation, and one hundred hands growing, pulping, rolling, cutting, trucking, and selling paper.

The zero point is not a starting place, it is a launching pad.

Cognitive disconnect is the opposite of humor. Humor happens with the juxtaposition of conceptual incongruities where the mental tension is released through laughter. With a cognitive disconnect the shift doesn’t happen and the tension is not released. In other words, a cognitive disconnect is a bad joke when you a left not knowing whether to shit or go blind.

As an example, an acquaintance wrote she had recently attended a Disney Management Seminar.

My mind stopped functioning briefly, stuck on an image of a room full of suits clapping their hands and chanting, “I believe in fairies profits.” Was this the next step up from McDonald’s University?

If I remember correctly, it was Al Ries and Jack Trout in Positioning: The Battle for Your Mind that spilled considerable ink on the silliness of brand extension.

I nominate the Disney Institute for inclusion in the next edition of the book.

I know the people at Disney are real proud of their brand, but someone please tell me how to rid myself of this image of Tinkerbell in a three-piece suit that’s stuck in my head.  Anyone.

I stopped at the drive-up window at my bank to make a deposit.  It’s the multi-lane pneumatic tube delivery system type affair.  When the deposit canister returned with my receipt, there was also a 4-inch square purple piece of paper and a pen inside.  The purple piece of paper had blank fill-in spaces asking me for my name, address, phone, employer, whether I use direct deposit, if I’d changed jobs in the last 5 years, and if I still had a 401k with my former employer.

What was lacking was an explanation for their asking, a reason why I should answer, or what they planed to do with the information.

I drove off happy.  Without any effort I had something to write about here.  Another example of idiotic marketing.

You paid good money to some graphic designer to cook up a logo for you, and now you own your logo . . . or so you think. The sad truth of the matter is that you might have only rented it.

U. S. Copyright law aims to protect those who produce original creative works. In graphic arts, like logo design, the person protected is generally the artist.

Title 17 U. S. Code Section 201- Ownership of copyright

201(a) “Initial Ownership. - Copyright in a work protected under this title vests initially in the author or authors of the work.”

In the case of logo design, instead of “author,” read “artist.”

The next part of this statutory section is what usually sends folks off on a road trip to an erroneous conclusion. 17 U.S.C. Section 201(b) states:

“Works Made for Hire. - In the case of a work made for hire, the employer or other person for whom the work was prepared is considered the author for purposes of this title, and, unless the parties have expressly agreed otherwise in a written instrument signed by them, owns all of the rights comprised in the copyright.”

People read this and think, “I hired my cousin to design my logo, therefore it is a ‘Work for Hire,’ and I own it.” But they stop too soon. It isn’t important what you think the phrase “Work for Hire” means, the important thing is what Congress said it means.

Title 17 U. S. Code Section 101 - Definitions, states that a work made for hire means:

“a work prepared by an employee within the scope of his or her employment; or . . . if the parties expressly agree in a written instrument signed by them that the work shall be considered a work made for hire . . . . “

If your graphic designer was a freelancer or an outside agency (i.e. not an employee) , the designer likely owns the copyright on your logo unless there is an express signed written agreement that says otherwise.

If you were not aware of this, it might pose a problem.

Someone else might own your logo.