Allow us to explain everything you need to know about how the world works.
First, there was the internet. Presumably, something came before the internet, but we no longer remember what it was. Probably some sort of primitive Dark Age where men vied with mammoths and worshiped logs and ate roots three meals a day. Best not to think about it.
Next came Google, and Google pretty much runs the show now (not our show, the big show. The universal show, as it were). We're not really sure what Google is up to or why they are now the hub 'round which the world turns. We know better than to ask questions. Questions can mean being sent to the Goolag. We just keep our traps shut.
Google results are pretty important when you're an emerging entertainment enterprise. If you type "Variety Society" into Google (which, by the way, you'd just be a dear if you actually did), you get a whole lot of results. See that results page? That is, and here I'm going to use a technical term, our turf. And we do not like people stepping on our turf.
In fact, for a long time someone was stepping on our turf. See, we're not the only Variety Society. Apparently some wine-tasting group was already the Variety Society, and let me tell you, it took forever to knock them off of the first page. I had to do some things I'm not proud of. And you would be appalled to find out what I'm capable of taking pride in.
You may be wondering, if they had the name before us, wouldn't that make it their turf? You might think so, but that's just because you don't understand how this complex system works. See, we're just plain better than they are. And that makes it ours. You know why? Because we're funny. Most of the time.
Now, wine, wine isn't funny. Go ahead, show me your funniest wine.
Yeah, no one is gonna laugh at that. What is that, a Riesling? Nobody laughs at a Riesling. You could maybe get a laugh with a Steuben, but that's about it. That Riesling just goes to show exactly what kind of amateur operation these people are running. Bottom line, we're funnier, so the name is ours, double bogey no take backs.
So the wine snobs have been banished to page two, and all was right in the world. Until tonight, when a new usurper emerged from the shadowy shadows. "GPT Variety Society"? Who the hell are they? According to their Facebook profile, they used to be the GEC Variety Society. Well, that explains everything.
No! Don't Google them! It'll just entrench them further. Leave this to the professionals. I've still got some detonator wire left. I can get this done. You might think we're being a bit too protective of our name, but you would be too if you'd had this many "Variety Society" tshirts made.
And do you have any idea how long it took us to come up with a title for this show in the first place? Really, really long. We were almost called "The Sutro Tower Hour", but one of our producers thought it sounded like the title of a gay porno. Seriously, titles are hard.
So we're putting the word out: GPT, GEC, GED, whatever you call yourselves, you can do your little theatre song and dance all you want (up to and including actual song and dance. I recommend "The Music Man" this season, actually), but stay off of our turf. By which I mean our Google.
You don't wanna find out what'll happen if you don't. And neither do we. Let's all not find out together, capiche?
First, there was the internet. Presumably, something came before the internet, but we no longer remember what it was. Probably some sort of primitive Dark Age where men vied with mammoths and worshiped logs and ate roots three meals a day. Best not to think about it.
Next came Google, and Google pretty much runs the show now (not our show, the big show. The universal show, as it were). We're not really sure what Google is up to or why they are now the hub 'round which the world turns. We know better than to ask questions. Questions can mean being sent to the Goolag. We just keep our traps shut.
Google results are pretty important when you're an emerging entertainment enterprise. If you type "Variety Society" into Google (which, by the way, you'd just be a dear if you actually did), you get a whole lot of results. See that results page? That is, and here I'm going to use a technical term, our turf. And we do not like people stepping on our turf.
In fact, for a long time someone was stepping on our turf. See, we're not the only Variety Society. Apparently some wine-tasting group was already the Variety Society, and let me tell you, it took forever to knock them off of the first page. I had to do some things I'm not proud of. And you would be appalled to find out what I'm capable of taking pride in.
You may be wondering, if they had the name before us, wouldn't that make it their turf? You might think so, but that's just because you don't understand how this complex system works. See, we're just plain better than they are. And that makes it ours. You know why? Because we're funny. Most of the time.
Now, wine, wine isn't funny. Go ahead, show me your funniest wine.
Yeah, no one is gonna laugh at that. What is that, a Riesling? Nobody laughs at a Riesling. You could maybe get a laugh with a Steuben, but that's about it. That Riesling just goes to show exactly what kind of amateur operation these people are running. Bottom line, we're funnier, so the name is ours, double bogey no take backs.
So the wine snobs have been banished to page two, and all was right in the world. Until tonight, when a new usurper emerged from the shadowy shadows. "GPT Variety Society"? Who the hell are they? According to their Facebook profile, they used to be the GEC Variety Society. Well, that explains everything.
No! Don't Google them! It'll just entrench them further. Leave this to the professionals. I've still got some detonator wire left. I can get this done. You might think we're being a bit too protective of our name, but you would be too if you'd had this many "Variety Society" tshirts made.
And do you have any idea how long it took us to come up with a title for this show in the first place? Really, really long. We were almost called "The Sutro Tower Hour", but one of our producers thought it sounded like the title of a gay porno. Seriously, titles are hard.
So we're putting the word out: GPT, GEC, GED, whatever you call yourselves, you can do your little theatre song and dance all you want (up to and including actual song and dance. I recommend "The Music Man" this season, actually), but stay off of our turf. By which I mean our Google.
You don't wanna find out what'll happen if you don't. And neither do we. Let's all not find out together, capiche?
No comments:
Post a Comment