Buffaloes in the West

This is press parking, but no vehicles allowed.
This is press parking, but no vehicles allowed.

Sure, I tweet. I partake of the social media. It keeps me in touch, perhaps, to a fault.

Nowadays it’s possible to get a job in which all that is required is to tweet. They claim it’s “devising a social-media strategy.” They’re too smart merely to “tweet.”

I tweet. I tweeted. I have tweeted. I shall tweet. It’s so much easier, though, since I don’t try to brainwash people.

This is how it works. Someone discovers a way to exploit something. His video goes viral. He (or she) masters the art of posting on a social media in a way scientifically designed to create a vast array of web hits. His methods are copied. Hundreds follow. No, thousands. No, millions.

It doesn’t work anymore. Because everyone is doing it. Everyone who used to take the whole pie now just gets a sliver.

It’s human nature. There are millions of buffalo in the West. Hunting them is profitable. Hunters stream to the West to kill buffalo, right up to the point where they are almost all gone.

The killing’s just so much quicker now. A whole herd disappears. The MySpace herd, for instance.

Never buy anything based on a TV ad. Gold? Reverse mortgages? A pill that is 100 times better for your prostate than saw palmetto? If they’re offering it to some nobody like me, the killing’s already been made. Now it’s just another Ponzi scheme. The money was made entering turn one. The commercial is exiting turn two. The money was ahead of the curve. So was the Publishers Clearing House.

Trading cards. Penny stocks. Dotcoms. “Happy.” Gangnam style!

It’s predictable, but no one wants to predict it. Get while the getting’s good. Make money like it’s going out of style.

Because … it is.


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