Quite a Find

Diana Gestive-Biscuit (or 'Ana' for short) was 5'2'' and blonde for half an hour when she was twelve. After that, she dyed her hair and got taller.

Her father, Nikkoluss Biscuit, worked in trousers. Her mother, Fran Gestive, worked in disguise. They were all happy until they died at a ripe old age. Their deaths were staggered to account for individual ripeness. The funerals were far enough apart to allow Tuck Biscuit (an Auncle) to reuse the same material in his eulogy. Huge laughs. Huge.

***

I think I've found my calling. I'm going to travel round the world italicising text to imbue it with a dignity it scarcely deserves.

I trust you're all well.

I should be doing other things, but I'm not doing them. I'm doing this. I'm worried that I'll be discovered. Discovered by the wrong people.

I don't want to be discovered by a stern authority figure.

I do want to be discovered by some kind of magnate or benefactor.

The former would put an end to all frivolity and would give me a harsh reminder of my duties.

The latter would be charmed by my way with words and brackets, and would offer me a job.

Discoverability is important. It's not recognised as a word by the spell-check, but it's important nonetheless. I was told about it in a meeting once. It's a buzzword. But a buzzword is still a word. A buzz-cut is still a cut. A buzzard is still an ard.

I wonder who discovered the word 'discoverability'. They must have been over the fucking moon. It was probably Magellan. He discovered loads of stuff. Discoverability was the quality he most looked for in the things he looked for most.

If you have a business, you want people to find it. If you have a racial slur concealed in your business's logo, you don't want people to find it. That's the trouble with raising your profile. With increased attention comes increased scrutiny.

No-one buys coffee from the scummy little greasy spoon in the rough part of town. Everyone buys coffee from Starbucks.

But, on the other side of the coin, if you're drinking a coffee with something disgusting (like a coin) in it, people will complain and tweet and tell their Bluetooth confidants about it.

If people find a coin in the scummy greasy rough coffee, they'll punch the air and go to find a fruit machine.

I'm going to start giving talks on business. It will mostly be the same as this blog post, but I probably won't have that whole thing about staggered funerals.

I can teach people about the benefits and drawbacks of discoverability and coins, and people can make notes on ring-bound notepads with pens that have my face embossed on them. In my face I'll conceal a racial slur, to prove my point. It will be in the beard.

The following will be my conclusion:

(I'll indicate italics by slouching)

With a high profile comes a high responsibility (AUDIENCE: "Hi, responsibility!" - we'll have worked this bit out beforehand). With a low profile comes a low profit margin. Can you have a low profit margin? Or would it be a small profit margin? (AUDIENCE: *silence*)

But be seen. Be. Seen. It's better to be seen than to be invisible. And if you are seen, don't wrap yourself in bandages. Unless you've been burned in a fire. (AUDIENCE: "Hi, responsibility!" - they'll have misunderstood)

Remember: your customers are out there, looking for a neon stag. All you have to do is turn on the juice and get shot. The dark stag goes uncaught. And whilst that may seem like a good thing for the stag, he's not going to get many Twitter followers is he? (I'll click onto http://twitter.com/#!/darkstag and display the account on the overhead projector. 12 followers. Rubbish.)

You can't spell discoverability without "ability". Or "cove". Or "vera". Or "disco". SORT YOUR LIVES OUT.

(AUDIENCE: *applause*)

Also, don't drink coins.

(A bad karaoke version of "Stayin' Alive" plays as I pack up my briefcase)


***

This has been my most productive day.