by George Takei
So in 2013, I went ahead with the unpreviewed links. My team even gave me my own personalized URL abbreviation: http://ohmyyy.gt (Technically, I’m told that the “gt” stands for Guatamala, but you and I both know what it’s really for.)
Predictably, a small minority of fans howled at the new format. “This link baiting is beneath you, George,” scolded one. “I like having a preview of what I’m about to see,” wrote another. Oh dear. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. This was akin to those annoying people in line who demand samples of every flavor of ice cream, before deciding after 10 minutes that they don’t like any of them and walking away. I figured, if the fans trust me, they’d know I wouldn’t lead them astray.
In terms of click-throughs, my staffers were right. Giving just a hint, but not a full description, of where each link led increased clicks on average by 200 percent. Many of these links were important articles which needed to be read in their entirety, and not merely skimmed in previews, so I was happy to see that rise. It also meant greater general engagement by fans which, as I discussed in my previous book, in turn meant greater likelihood that the status would be “favored” by Facebook and thus more likely to be streamed into fans’ newsfeeds.
Facebook became wise, however, to this kind of blind-linking. Soon, it began to issue warnings to users that they were being taken away from Facebook, and that Facebook couldn’t vouch for the security of the site they were being led to. That seemed unnecessarily alarmist to me. Fans complained that they were receiving this message, but again I figured if people trusted me, they knew I wouldn’t lead them to a site that would spam them or phish for personal information. Still, the ploy by Facebook worked, and we saw a drop of engagement from fans on our “blind link” strategy whenever that message popped up.
Speaking of “engagement,” I also decided that if I was going to ask fans to look at my book or merchandise page, I might as well make the process a bit more fun. So in the spirit of gaming, I often included a puzzle, riddle or mind bender with my promotional posts.
And by this I don’t mean the utterly banal types of polls or “puzzles” that are solely intended to score as many Facebook “likes” as possible (a scam called “like farming” that mines for users and then sells the page to another company). We’ve all seen those, where they show you an interesting picture and ask you to type “1” in the comments to see what happens next:
“Type 1 in the comments to see what happens!”
Of course, Facebook doesn’t permit .gif files (graphic interchange format for you non-techies), so of course nothing “happens next”, but you can now be included in a list of dupes who typed 1 and have your user name sold to the highest bidder.
Or those so-called “puzzles” that set a stupidly low bar for users:
To think people feel more intelligent for having come up with one is rather depressing. Even more depressing is the unbridled use of comic sans.
Then there are the polls that are simply annoying:
I’m not even sure why people bother participating in this, but many hundreds of thousands will gladly like and share away on the PB&J poll. (By the way, peanut butter was in the lead, last I checked.)
No, my own puzzles, I vowed, would be more interesting. One of my favorites was this:
LOOK VERY CLOSELY. CAN YOU FIND THE
THE MISTAKE?
0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
IF YOU CAN, THEN YOU’RE PROBABLY BRIGHT ENOUGH TO
APPRECIATE THIS:
(at which point, I’d add a link to my book.) The advantage of this kind of post was obvious. My fans love games as much as I do, and while no one wants to share an advertisement for a book, sharing a particularly clever mind-teaser with their friends is a totally different ball of wax. And if that mind-teaser “happened” to contain a link to my book, somehow it seemed less objectionable that way. Voila! Viral marketing at its finest.
Another puzzle asked,
HOW MANY FS DO YOU COUNT IN THE FOLLOWING:
FINISHED FILES ARE THE RE-
SULT OF YEARS OF SCIENTIF-
IC STUDY COMBINED WITH
THE EXPERIENCE OF YEARS.
MANY PEOPLE MISS THAT THERE ARE IN FACT SIX FS. BUT IF YOU COUNTED FOUR OR MORE, YOU’RE CERTAINLY BRIGHT ENOUGH TO APPRECIATE THIS:
…and another book link. Truly, I’ve found that people don’t mind taking a gander at the link if you give them something to play with first. After several of these types of promotions, one fan commented good-naturedly, “Dammit, Takei! You get me to click that link every time!”
Lately fans have caught on and started sending me some very funny pictogram puzzles. I use these to see if people “get” the joke right away, and if they do, encourage them to read my book for more, or reward themselves with a “Takei Friendly” T-shirt (proceeds from those sales to charity). Here’s an example:
This unfortunately seemed to sail over the heads of anyone who didn’t come of age by the 1980s. So I tried something simpler:
Photo Credit - Jaco Haasbroek (jacohaasbroek.com)
For this many fans gleefully liked the post and clicked through to my Takei Friendly T-shirt. I received no complaints from fans that I was “promoting” my merchandise again, because at the very least I had entertained them in the process. I did receive complaints, however, from fans who believed that one was too easy. So I threw one up for the brainy nerds:
You might be wondering, aren’t I worried that we’re giving away all our marketing secrets? Eh, not really. If others wind up copying the way my team and I run the Facebook page, it’s not the end of the world. We still have the luxury of having a comfortable head start in absolute fan numbers and engagement, and honestly, even though I’ve gotten many of them to click through to my book, most of the five million+ fans of my page (as of press time) aren’t going to be reading this book anyway. If they were, I’d be very rich indeed. So, copy away. It will keep my staff on their toes to come up with new and innovative ways to both entertain and be self-sustaining. And anyway, as they will say in the distant future, “Replication is the sincerest form of flattery.”
Dogged Determination
It is a truth universally acknowledged that cats rule the Internet, and that dogs come in a distant second. This comes as no surprise, given the material that tends to gain instant net virality and popularity. “Epic fails,” for example, are only worth watching if the subject appears poised and capable, before accidentally stepping off a table, setting herself on fire, or slipping humiliatingly into some body of water. When you think about it, watching a dog fall into a bathtub isn’t nearly as funny as watching a cat do it. (I should note here, however, that one of the funniest videos I have ever seen features a rascal of a dog pushing a cat, quite purposefully, into a bathtub. You can view it here: http://po.st/yYPwRI )
A dog falling in a tub isn’t funny because we have come to expect dogs to be good-naturedly clumsy, less-than-perfect, and emotionally transparent. When a dog falls into water, it doesn’t pretend it meant to do it. Instead, the dog will simply sit there, tongue out, sopping wet, enjoying the sudden change of circumstance, with an expression that says, “Hey, that was fun! Let’s do it again!” The wet cat, on the other hand, will either be simultaneously mortified and angry at you for witnessing it or, as mentioned, will act like that was her plan all along.
It’s pretty much the same with dogs and cars. A dog will find a ride in any motorized vehicle (so long as it’s not to the V-E-T) a simply amazing experience, no matter how many times he’s done it before. Even the mere utterance of the words “car” or “ride” might result in a dog sitting upright and alert, eye upon the door, ready for its great adventure. Most dogs need no urging to climb in and, once inside, will stare eagerly, back and forth between you and the window, until with a sigh you roll it down. Very few dogs can resist the sheer joy of feeling the wind on their faces, the world rushing by.
Nerds might remember that it was a dog, Laika (a stray mutt from the streets of Mosc
ow), that was the first animal to enter outer space and to orbit the Earth as a passenger onboard the Soviet satellite Sputnik 2. Laika proved that animals could survive the initial rigors of space travel, including the G-forces involved in blast-off. Sadly, within a few hours of her departure from Earth, the vessel transporting her overheated and Laika perished from the heat—a grisly fact only made public long after the fall of the Communist Party.
But in the future, when dogs do travel safely in space at warp speed with their humans, be assured they will still try to stick their heads out of starship vessels, as photographer Benjamin “The Frogman” Grelle has captured so perfectly:
If you’re thinking, as I did, “This is totally photoshopped,” it may be the stars zipping past that give it away. (For more great photos by Grelle, visit www.thefrogman.me)
By contrast, the common car ride is far less enjoyable for cats, as any cat-person will attest. Best to place the cat first in a carrier, and ensure it is mildly to heavily sedated. To a cat, the notion that its body can move at such speeds without any conscious effort by said cat can produce near apoplexy. It may also cause serious injury to passengers or the driver, as the cat attempts at all cost to escape its inevitable demise. It can even lead to an embarrassing loss of bladder or bowel control—by the cat and sometimes the driver.
In fairness, dogs aren’t above their own sense of horror, dismay or sadness. There are moving and well-documented stories of dogs who have stood vigil by their humans’ graves, neither eating nor moving, so strong is their grief. There are videos of dogs so overcome by the sight of their humans coming home after a long war that the dog appears crying with joy.
Then there are the priceless facial expressions, which the Internet has captured on occasion. Some dogs, for example, enjoy watching television with their owners. It hasn’t always been clear whether the dog actually understands any of what it sees, or that what appears in the magic box isn’t real. After all, the people in the box have no smell (and more specifically, have no butts to sniff), so they must not be completely real. No matter—here, “Buddy” seems to believe what he is watching all too well.
Certain breeds of dogs seem always to have the same expressions. It was pointed out to me, for example, that even on the happiest occasions, pugs always look like they have forgotten something important, like whether they turned off the oven.
In fairness, other animals have certain kinds of permanent looks about them. For example, another fan pointed out that eels maintain a very cartoonish appearance that, once described, is quite spot-on:
Hah? HAH?! (Which reminds me of an absolutely awful earworm: “When you’re diving at night and your feet feel a bite, that’s a moray!”)
But back to dogs. Humans love to speak to their dogs in the most curious fashion, often with their jaws pushed forward so that their words sound almost dog-like. It’s as if somehow the dog will understand us better if our diction is more like theirs (or what we imagine theirs to be). Oddly, this cooing does seem to work, for the tail starts a-waggin’ and a-thumpin’ soon after the age-old question is posed: “Whoos a goo’ boy? Huh? Whoos a goo’ boy?” Never mind that this might cause significant existential anxiety:
Puppies are an a category apart, eliciting from the Internet a reaction reserved only for human babies, koalas and pandas—all with the uncanny ability to elicit a collective “awwww.” Note that each of these tends to be somewhat roly-poly, move rather slowly, and sleep a great deal (I dare say we all wish we could do this more often). Unsurprisingly, one of my most “liked” and ”shared” posts in the early days of my Facebook page involved a picture of a baby surrounded by French bulldog puppies, with no caption by me other than “I’m going to leave this right here for you.”
There is something about the innocent sweetness of the baby (which we all know will end by the time she learns the word “mine” at age two) paired with the cuteness overload of puppies (which we know will never lose their genuine affection for that child, even as she grows into that tyrannical two-year old) that touches us all. It probably doesn’t hurt that they are all about the same size and rest together without a care in the world. The flush on baby’s cheek mirrors the puppies’ spots, suggesting that maybe the puppies simply think she is one of them. Can most of us even remember a time when we felt so safe, warm and cuddled?
When it comes down to it, “dog people” indeed love their pets because they are relatively easy to please and eager to show their affection and appreciation. The writers of the movie Up made this point in their brilliant use of the translating collar, which confirmed all of our fondest beliefs of the inner workings of a dog’s mind. For the most part, dogs simply adore their humans and will do anything for us. They believe that we are better than we are, making us want to be our best selves.
Cats, on the other hand, already know we are flawed, and sniff condescendingly, almost pityingly, as they deign to allow us to tend to them. This reminds me of the old joke about the dog and the cat, which have been left on their own for a weekend. “Do you miss the family? I miss the family! Do you miss the family?” the dogs whines. “The family,” says the cat, through its teeth, “are the help.”
Dogs do not judge us for our failings; rather, they stick by us through thick and thin, loyal to the core. Whose heart doesn’t feel a little tingle and a tug when we see a dog willing to starve beside its homeless owner on the street? (But on that note, isn’t it curious that not nearly as many of us equally pity and empathize with the human in this situation? We’re so quick to assume that the dog is helpless here, while the human somehow deserves his or her lot. As Spock might say, “Fascinating. And illogical.”)
The difference between the dog’s breathless and inexhaustible excitement over life and the cat’s typically blasé attitude toward it was best captured by a famous meme comparing the two in diary form:
If you are reading this on a Kindle and your eyes cannot forgive the size of the cat meme, try clicking on it to expand. It’s a little trick I learned in Starfleet Academy.
There are many things that I love about this meme, not the least of which are the difference in font, the structure of the prose, and the un- versus highly- selective use of exclamation points between the two. As this meme suggests, humans assume, with a decent amount of evidence to support the theory, that a dog’s memory is rather short-term, its mind ready to be reset by the next exterior stimulus. A cat, by contrast, ponders, remembers, and does not forget, will not forgive.
Many fans on Facebook and Twitter don’t realize that Brad and I not only raise cats but are also dog lovers. Our own dog was named “La Reine Blanche,” meaning literally “The White Queen” (we called her “Ren-Ren” for short). Now, “La Reine Blanche” might have been a very, shall we say, precious name for a dog. More than a few fans pointed out that by naming her that, I had essentially come out of the closet long before 2005.
La Reine was a breed known as a Papillon, which means “butterfly” in French. She was regal, beautiful and imperious. Her long, white, silky fur was like a royal cloak. But from her eyes to her widespread butterfly ears, her fur was the color of coffee brushed with rich, dark chocolate. La Reine knew that Brad and I were around solely to serve her slightest whims. She could also be playful, energetic and demanding.
Her favorite toy was a little plastic ring that she loved to have us throw across the back lawn. She would chase after it with her magnificent butterfly ears flying behind her like Isadora Duncan’s scarf. Once, we took her to the park to let her chase her ring in the open space of the great lawn. The other dogs playing there were all about her size—miniature poodles, whippets and Scottish terriers. Ren-Ren clearly preferred playing with them. She dropped her ring and romped among her newfound doggy friends nipping and yelping in joy.
But that lasted just so long. She wanted to chase her ring. So I took it and threw it high and long to the far side of the great lawn. Ren-Ren was off and running, her eyes fixed on the ring flying through the air. I
t landed right near a shaggy wolfhound that had been gamboling with other dogs its size. Ren-Ren came to a skidding stop, made an immediate U-turn, and began racing back toward me with the giant wolfhound bounding after her.
Ren-Ren knew when she was out-sized. She seemed to be flying through the air. I had never seen her run so fast. As she neared me, she leaped up, flying right into my outstretched arms. She was home safe in my embrace.
The wolfhound loped up wagging its tail. It wanted to play. But La Reine wasn’t having any of that. She snarled aggressively at the massive menace. And when the wolfhound didn’t back off, she began yapping at it, as if protecting me from danger. When the hulk of a dog finally got the message and ambled off, she turned about to lick my face happily. I wasn’t sure whether it was in gratitude or to reassure me that I was safe, that she had saved me from a horrible attack. Ren-Ren was once again reigning from the safety of my arms.
It is a wonderful memory of a special moment with her. We miss her terribly.
George with La Reine Blanche