Executive Summary
What follows is an email I sent the entire news department yesterday summarizing the conference last week (thereby making it, quite literally, an “executive summary”). I think it was kinda’ radical to send from within the Big Media firewall. So I thought you might like to read it.
Last week’s OnHollywood conference brought Silicon Valley entrepreneurs, venture capitalists, and traditional media together to discuss (and make deals around) the ongoing “new media” mashup (that is, the post YouTubeGoogleMySpace world). The three-day confab consisted primarily of expert panels and CEO presentations from some of the top thinkers in the space. Here’s some light weekend reading based on my learnings there:
TOP LINE SUMMARY:
1- A “tsunami” of video is headed for the Internet as Big Media embraces the burgeoning paradigm shift. Numerous entrepreneurial start-ups are scrambling to find ways to intelligently aggregate that video, enable community around niche interests, and customized domains.
2- Appointment viewing has been replaced by time shifting (Tivo) which has been replaced by place shifting (Slingbox). In other words, our audience expects what they want, when they want it, wherever they are.
3- Forget brand loyalty. The “IM Generation” is not a “Coke vs. Pepsi” generation; they grew up with 200 brands of water from which to choose. For them, media and technology choices create social currency (or, as Rob Gordon says in “High Fidelity,” “You are what you like.”)
4- Mobile is fast becoming a media gateway. Today, 32 mobile phones are sold every second. By 2009, mobile sales will outpace PC sales 3:1.
KEYNOTE/PANEL NOTES:
Slingbox CEO Blake Krikorkian: “With the democratization of production tools and distribution, the days of the single studio [or network] are finally starting to break down. So in the old days where you had basically the content and the distributor and three ways get programming — cable, satellite, and DVD — now, the fact is, if a producer can aggregate a million or two customers around the world — because there are no boundaries and the cost of distribution is so low — you have a whole new economy. So every day that [Big media] doesn’t embrace [the 2.0 paradigm shift] they’re giving up ground to this huge tidal wave of incredible producers who are creating their own content.”
Digg CEO Kevin Rose: “Every time you Digg we learn a little more about you so we can suggest stories and people to you that you might want to know more about.”
“[If I were the head of a major network] I would allow the user come in and have a voice and service content, and I would allow the community to interact with each other, and the network.”
TMZ CEO Alan Citron: “Things have changed. And the fact is, [Big Media] has to embrace these changes. As an example, it was a Friday night when the Mel Gibson story broke. When I woke up Saturday morning it occurred to me that it might not get noticed. So I called my old media friends [at Variety and LA Times], and the initial resistance was incredible! They said things like, ‘How can it have happened if you reported it?’ and ‘If it was reported on the Internet it must not be true!’ But by Sunday everyone was reporting it. So Big Media has to go through a series of steps before its comfortable, but it’s inevitable that content will be in many places, and that users will determine it.”
Intelligent Group Trendspotter Tristan Coopersmith: “[The 'IM generation'] is the ‘I want what I want and I want it when I want it’ generation. Their whole lives are documented. None of their life is by appointment. They want customization, and self-expression. The choices they make are a representation of who they are — social currency. And they have no brand loyalty. This is not a Coke or Pepsi generation. They grew up with 200 brands of water!”
“So [what we're finding with the 'IM Generation' is that] My Space isn’t exclusionary enough. So we hear them using terms like “My Space suicide” and “downsizing friends.” Young people want niche sites based on psychographics, not just demographic. So sites for high school football players, pet lovers — whatever.”
Motorola CTO Padmasree Warrior: “Mobile phones are becoming personal media gateway; they’re dedicated, personalized, always on, and always with you. So what we’re seeing is a shift from planned production to spontaneous generation, from broadcasting to personacasting, and from appointment viewing to placeshifting.”
RANDOM RAW DATA:
* 20M video streams: FunnyOrDie’s first six days (also, YouTube’s first six months)
* 30M Wii, PS3 and XBoxes in American homes by 2008.
* 25B media-related video streams served in 2006: 35% music video, 25% news.
* 25% of online newspaper traffic is driven by search.
* 45% of Europeans watch TV shows online.
* 55% of online video (some 44B streams) will be user generated by 2010.
* 60% of that which teenagers currently view online (video, photos and text) was created by someone they know.
* 99% of all video hasn’t even been digitized yet.
NEW PRODUCT DEMOS:
www.me.tv – program and share your own personalized channel (ex: www.carsondaly.tv) from your own videos, and your favorites from around the web.
www.kyte.tv – shoot and produce shows on you mobile phone.
www.cozmo.tv – like Last FM for video.
www.ontour.net – dynamic multiplatform tour date app.
www.freemp3.net – rights-free, share-enabled downloads.
www.movenetworks.com – hi-res broadband network.
www.swarmcast.com – multisource HD network.
www.kliptronic.com – integrated, dynamic, multiplatform ad serving.
RESOURCES FOR “NEW MEDIA” NEWS:
www.lostremote.com
www.paidcontent.com
www.newteevee.com
www.longtail.com
www.beet.tv
www.alwayson.goingon.com
Only You
There are nineteen different espresso machine models at William-Sonoma.
I know this because Abbi and I spent an hour in the Store For Cooks’ Time Warner Center location.
We’ve begun our gift registry.
I’m probably not the first person to be wary of the great economies sprung forth from Love, American Style (see also “Love, Honor, Cherish and Buy” in today’s New York Times). Most of our cultural expectations (and fantasies, and — ergo — resulting disappointments) are market driven, from Barbie to Prom to marriage. It is, therefor, largely futile to resist.
Still, as Michael Stipe so eloquently tought me with the refrain of REM’s 1987 hit, “The Finest Worksong,” “What we want / And what we need / Has been confused.”
Do we need a six-slice toaster with a built-in panini press? Do we need an eighteen-cup, self-cleaning coffee maker? Do we need a seven inch boning knife precision ground from thirty-three layers of Damascus steel?
Distinguishing want and need is, I think, crucial.
My buddy CJ recently suggested I embrace the process.
“You just gotta’ get into it,” he said. “Learn to love the scan gun, dude.”
His philosophy, apparently, is widely espoused, as Abbi and I bumped into two other couples with SKU scanners.
“Look, honey, how cute. He’s doing all the scanning too!”
“Oh yeah,” the dude said. “This is our seventh store. I can nab a bar code from twenty feet.”
Of course, the truth is that what dudes scan isn’t really up to the dudes.
And so there we were wandering the aisles, SKU scanner in hand, perusing non-stick baking trays, juicers, spatulas, whisks, knives, forks and spoons.
I’ll admit, though, that I didn’t do a terrific job feigning interest. My idea of cooking is menupages.com, so place settings and placemats don’t do much for me. And that SKU scanner made a hideous beep every time we added something as if to scream, “Hey! Look! We’re Registering!”
Given my druthers, I’d register at REI or iTunes or amass airline miles or cheritable donations.
Still, I was with Abbi, and I wasn’t at work, so it wasn’t all bad. In fact, we had a few good laughs.
On the way out we realized that, for various odd reasons, we had just over a thousand bucks in cash between us.
“You wanna’ go grab some hookers and blow?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “I’m your hooker, and you’re my blow.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I think you just wrote my lede.”
Well, the kicker anyway.
And we laughed (‘cuz Abbi doesn’t usually share my potty mouth), walked to the bank, and headed home for dinner.
And as we walked, I hummed that JC Penney ad and wondered, what’s next? The The for Nissan? Is everything for sale?
Frozen
Suddenly, I realized that I’d been standing in the frozen foods aisle for nearly an hour.
It was just after nine o’clock. I was at D’Agostino on Tenth Avenue. My basket was half-full: two empire apples, four Axelrod yogurts, a bag of Happy Herbert Pretzals. But I hadn’t scored my dinner. I wanted pizza. But I’d had pizza on Saturday. And a hamburger on Sunday. And hadn’t run since Friday.
There I was, then, standing in front six shelves of Lean Cuisine like so many times before. Vegetarian lasagna, baked chicken, sesame stir fry, chicken primavera, creamy basic chicken, three cheese rigatoni, beef portabello, bow tie pasta with chicken, chicken a l’orange, shrimp and angel haor pasta…
I was introduced to Lean Cuisine by Runner’s World magazine. “Eat all you want,” they wrote. “They’re so low in fat and calories, you can have a zap a second if you’re still hungry.”
A few years on, now (and a few years into my thirties), I’ve tried ‘em all.
And so there I was suddenly realizing that I’d been standing in the frozen foods aisle for nearly an hour.
Or so.
When I snapped to, I settled on grilled chicken and penne pasta with a caramel apple dessert, then grabbed a six pack of Harp, and a bottle of orange Gatorade.
Dinner isn’t as much fun as it used to be.
Sitting Still
I’m not sure what used to constitute a moment of zen even just a few years ago, but nowadays, it’s sitting on a park bench.
Lately, Abbi and I have been beating Chris, Jen, Ethan and Edward to the playground. Imagine the scene: happy little yuppy dads in camouflage cargo shorts and backwards Kangol caps. Moms who look more Paris Hilton than June Cleaver. Kids darting every which way… and us.
As Abbi says, “We’re the creepy, single couple in the corner.”
But then we spot Chris and Ethan sauntering down the hill. Chris is wearing that same orange North Face fleece he’s been wearing for years. Ethan’s pushing a toy baby stroller. They walk up worldlessly. They sit down next to us. And the four of us sit there quietly watching the playground abuzz with kids bouncing around like atoms.
I pat Ethan on the head, muss up his hair, and tickle his ears, He doesn’t react. He just sits there, stone faced, observing the playground like a scientist.
And then he stands up and pushes Baby to the swings. Abbi finds him some chalk. They recite the ABCs, and scribble them on the blacktop. He hangs from the rings, then jumps from the jungle gym. And he’s smiling and laughing and squinting into the sun.
Jen strolls in with Edward. She puts him on the ground. He pushes himself up, his little legs struggling to move him forward. Abbi and I are entranced.
“He hasn’t figured out his knees yet!”
He pulls himself up to the baby gym, smiling with his four little teeth. I make silly noises. I sing for him, and tickle him and he giggles.
And I look up through the new, green leaves, past the red, white and blue flag, through to the cloudless blue sky and I think, ‘I’m not sure what used to constitute a moment of zen even just a few years ago, but nowadays, it’s sitting on a park bench.’
The Nostalgia Factory
It occurred to me as I tossed and turned in bed in the small hours of Friday morning that I had fallen out of love with Los Angeles. And so, when the only light on Hollywood Boulevard was the flashing neon of The El Capitan, I hatched a plan.
Exactly ten years ago, in May of 1997, I flew in San Francisco, rented a convertible, and drove PCH1 to LA. It was an astounding trip, punctuated by the massive evergreen cliffs of Big Sur, the lush, rolling hills of Santa Barbara, and finally, the dusty, grubby Santa Monica Range.
I drove the entire length of Sunset Boulevard that morning, both ways. Just before I made it back to the mighty, diamond-strew Pacific, though, I pulled into a park, changed into my running shorts, and went for a run.
I didn’t know it then, but I was in Temescal Gateway Park. The park encompasses 141 acres of oak and sycamore canyons, ridge top views, and access to miles of trails in Topanga State Park, Will Rogers State Historic Park, and the 20,000-acre “Big Wild.”
Which is the remarkable thing about Los Angeles. In fifteen minutes, you can be a thousand feet above it all.
Los Angeles is, after all, a city best appreciated from the heights. The constant hiss of traffic fades away. The jumble of strip malls, sun-beaten pavement and bad architecture melts into a broad, u-shaped basin that almost seems orderly. And you can see the Pacific, there at the end of it all like a great, undulating blue punctuation mark.
In the early part of this decade, I thought I might move to Los Angeles. (Perhaps you remember. The experience was captured on my most popular record, “Almost Home.”) Sure, I’d met a girl (see also “Intent On St. Paul”). And sure, I was a little intoxicated at the prospect of being some sort of Hollywood player. But moreover, it was the natural beauty of the place that got me. And it all began that day above Topanga.
And so, mere moments after Paris was sentenced, I headed north on 26th. I turned west on Sunset, and followed it winding through the manicured but mudslide prone hills of Bellaire. I was on autopilot now, blindly feeling my way towards the coast. I knew I’d know the park by site, but in rush hour traffic, and with a plane to catch, was worried I end up in Malibu.
I get this feeling often that I know where I’m going, but I’m lost. Invariably, then, an internal monologue begins. “Turn around; you’ve gone too far,” is followed rapidly by “Trust me; we’re almost there.” And invariably, I push onward. And — as was the case tonight — find myself exactly where I want to be.
I stepped out of my rented Mustang, changed into my running shorts, stretched, and then headed for Temescal Ridge Trail. I jogged at first, my calves straining against the steep incline. Within seconds I was struggling for breath. The trail looked familiar. I pushed onward, trudging slowly up the mountain.
Perhaps it was dusk’s shadows, but the hills felt haunted. I heard voices, whispers. A dog barked in the distance. Then a rustling in the underbrush.
I had two worries.
First, I kept hearing the replay of my beloved sports doctor, triathlete Mark Klion, after last fall’s knee injury. “You’ve definitely increased the likelihood of rupturing your quadriceps…”
Second, I remembered the helicopter rescue Stephanie and I had assisted just a few miles north of Topanga a few years prior when young mother had twisted her ankle. I carefully considered every step.
The air was dry and cool, and smelled at once sweet and pungent. At points, bushes and small trees grew over the trail, creating long, dark tunnels of branches and thorns. Soon, the switchbacks became less frequent, and the vistas more spectacular. Santa Monica lay just below, Venice and Long Beach further on. A 747 lumbered out of LAX below me, looking as if it might fall from the sky. To the east, I tracked Wilshire clear to downtown, spotting Nakatomi Tower (Actually, Fox Plaze, 20th Century Fox’s headquarters) through the haze.
Soon, though, my quads and calves were burning. And though I was cognizant of time, and the setting sun, there was plenty of mountain still above me. And so I began walking. In slowing down, I began to notice details I had missed: Tiny flowers, a bird on a branch, small clicks and pops in the wind.
At the summit, I paused, spun around to take it all in, then stared into the sun. My heart settled, my head cleared, my soul saved just a little bit, I pointed myself downhill and began heading home.
Fools Set On Fire
I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time in hermetically-sealed, sunlight-deprived hotel rooms this week. It hasn’t been all bad.
For starters, the freebie shampoo’s pretty good. Real nice, simple branding on the outside. Minty, fresh-smelling stuff in the inside. Kinda’ makes my scalp tingle.
I have two beds. That’s kinda’ fun. Yunno: one for eating on, another for sleeping on. No crumbs that way.
I’ve had room service for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Nothing spectacular, though the fresh fruit plate puts an East Coast fruit plate to shame. I’m talkin’ pineapple, people! And lots of it!They do a decent salmon salad. I’ve had that twice. And Sam Adams. In an ice bucket!
Points against, though, every time someone on the Renaissance Hollywood Hotel staff concludes a phone call thusly: “Delighted!”
Which is every time.
I’ve watched a few movies (not that The Network of Fun will pick up the tab on ‘em). I watched “Children of Men” Wednesday night. Pretty good. Sorta’ bleek. I think I fell asleep for some of it. And last night I watched, “The Astronaut Farmer.” I love The Polish Brothers (the directors). They did “North Fork” and “Twin Falls Idaho.” This was kinda’ their mainstream, sell out flick. Still, it worked. Certainly more uplifting than “Children of Men.”
The Blossom Room at The Roosevelt Hotel? Where the OnHollywood confeence wrapped up last night? A whole lot darker than Renaissance #2026. Colder too. And those seats — man oh man! We’re talking painful. As in, been through a thousand wedding receptions painful. Won’t miss those.
The conference sure was interesting, though. We need to go to more of them. (Though they should probably send dudes who haven’t drank the digital Cool Aid.) Pretty academic, and super capitalist. But as long as I’m workin’ for The Man, valuable.
Thursday’s highlight was a panel of young people (mean age 25) called, “Is The IM Generation Really In Charge?”
My favorite observation came from a young trendspotter, Tristan Coopersmith (a ripe old thirty-year-old).
“This generation is not brand loyal,” she said. “They’re not a Coke or Pepsi generation. They grew up with 200 brand of water to choose from for God’s sake!”
I’ve already quoted her twice. I love the metaphor. Two-hundred choices for something essentially colorless, flavorless, and completely the same. What does that say for all the stuff that’s actually distinct from other stuff?
The last panel was the guys behind the insanely popular site, Funny Or Die — you know, the guys behind “The Landlord”. They did twenty-two million video streams in six days. It took YouTube six months to do that kind of traffic.
So it’s been an interesting week — fresh air, uncomfortable seats or not. It felt like going back to school for three days. Minus the keg parties and bong hits.
Disruption 101
As interesting as the two keynote, three panels, and nineteen CEO product presentations that I’ve seen in the last eight hours have been, I gotta say: I feel kind of depressed.
There have been all kinds of interesting ideas positted here on the second day of OnHollywood. Ariana Huffington talked about the blogosphere as court of appeals. Digg founder Kevin Rose defended his decision to back his usership’s posting of some DVD hack code. Kyte CEO Daniel Graf demo’d his really cool cell phone webcasting application. Motorola CTO Padmasree Warrior (great name, huh?) dashed off some staggering facts, like that there are 32 cell phones sold every second. Heck, as I type, I’m listening to a presentation on “monetizing audience awareness.”
“You’re now seeng the tie in between product placement and ecommerce. You see it, you buy it.”
It’s so conflicting.
On one hand, I look at these guys on these panels — YouTube founder Chad Hurley, or Rose, or Graf — and I think, “Why aren’t you up there? Why aren’t you an innovator? Or, for that matter, a millionaire?”
On the other, I absolutely bristle at all of this talk of monetization, disruption, place shifting, mobilization, personalization, and socialization.
Not once have I heard anyone talk about art. Not once have I heard anyone talk about how the Internet and the Death of Big Media can serve the greater good? Not once have I heard anyone say anything about how the democratization of the tools and distribution formerly locked down by The Man will contribute to the betterment of The Every man.
It won’t surprise you to learn that I’m feeling the ramifications of that decision as I sit here in the dark in these terribly uncomfortable seats wishing I was outside where it’s sunny, crisp and cool.
Here I am in an uber-exclusive spot surrounded by venture cpitalists, media executives, technologists and innovators, and all I wanna’ do is drive a few miles west on Hollywood Boulevard to The Troubadour or west on Sunset to Silver Lake and hang out with the rock stars, actors, poets, drifters, and misfits.
It’s been years and years since I read Wallace Stegner’s “The Spectator Bird.” Still, I am haunted by the the protagonist’s conflict.
“I had been … forced to choose whether I would be a talent broker or a broke talent.”
No one forced me to work for a newspaper instead of playing rock shows 24/7. No one forced me to move to New York instead of staying in Saratoga Springs. No one forced me to work for MTV instead of PBS.
But still, here I am.
Not that no one warned me. Douglas Coupland warned me.
You’re going to go through a really fucked up period for about five or six years now. You’re going to sit and micro-obsess on every decision you ever made, some of which you’ll be grateful for and others you’ll start having regrets over — this is when you start having regrets. You’re gonna become hyper-competitive with every guy you ever meet or read about. Like, you’re competitive but wait until that kicks in. And you’ll probably make one or two super-major life decisions.
So here I am: me and my sore ass, bad posture, and goose bumps (too much AC), micro-obsessing.
All that said (and in case you’re still with me and curious), here’s Wednesday’s OnHollywood news in brief:
Lots of UGC video community aggregate/vertical plays. In other words, lots of YouTubeMySpaceGoogle mashups. Lots of ad serving, broader broadband, personal broadcasting (“personacasting”), monetizing of content in shows (a la Delivery Agent announced its MTV deal). Plus lots of VC.
News panel wasn’t too insightful. Too many from old media (Huffington, Citron) congratulating themselves on embracing “new media.” All agreed, though, that a blend of traditional editorial with community contributors is key. Red Herring founder Tony Perkins said his new website (AlwaysOn, hosts of the conference) keeps users on his site three times longer solely because they’ve encouraged/allowed/enabled them to contribute (comment, blog, etc). And Kevin Rose did publicly announce that he was backing his community on the dvd hack flap that broke Tuesday pm, which drew applause (and which was big news yesterday).
Really great keynote from Motorola cto: by 2010, 55% of online video will be user generated, some 44B streams. There are 32 cell phones sold every second, 1.8B — 3X PC sales — by 2009: dedicated, personalized, always on, always with you.
Sat through a panel on next steps for Akamai/Limelight in terms of serving petabytes of video. In short: they have a lot of scaling to do. P2P will be part of the solution (though they were playing that close to vest).
The only conversation I heard about art (or “content” as the olds like to say) at all came from a tv/studio panel. Excepting the dude from HBO (Carmi Zlotnik) who understood the value of a) quick, cheap and compelling and b) using YouTube et all for marketing, there were no major insights. In fact, Fox TV SVP Stephanie Henning wouldn’t concede that digital has affected how she create TV programming. Weird. Awesome quote from Zlotnik re: YouTube “theft” — “We know that there’s 20% signal theft at HBO, but business is still good.”
The coolest technology I saw? Kyte. The New York Times wrote about it on Monday. He was alos the only dude not in a suit. I liked that.
Some other interesting links:
Me TV
Oddcast
Orb
Pando
Kiptronic
DaveTV
Wednesday: more mobile, UGC, “IM generation” panel, more community/video products, P2P and IPTV.
Cool. (Sigh.)
On Hollywood (Boulevard, That Is)
The last conference I attended was the 1987 Pennsylvania Association of Student Council Conference in Altoona. I gave a presentation on managing the social pressures that come with student leaderhsip. That’s a long way from talking Web 2.0 across the street from Mann’s Chinese Theater.
I flew into Los Angeles this afternoon for the Always On’s OnHollywood Conference. Given The Network of Fun‘s recent success rate with all things digital, my interest in growing my leadership role there, and the overall pace of technological change, I thought it might be a good idea to sit through a few of these keynotes and panels.
So tonight found me at the historic Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel listening to moderator Carson Daly (my former colleague, in theory anyway; I once complimented him on a solid Grammy post-show as we rode the escalator out of the office) interview some new media heavyweights: You Tube’s Chad Hurley, MP3tunes (formerly MP3.com founder) Michael Robertson, Sling Media’s Blake Krikorian, and Demand Media (and My Space player) Richard Rosenblatt.
The venue, of course, was chosen wisely. The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel was founded in 1927 by a syndicate of Hollywood luminaries that included Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, and Louis B. Mayer. The hotel’s “Blossom Room” — our conference homebase — hosted the first-ever Academy Awards ceremony, on May 19, 1929. Mann’s Chinese and El Capitan are just down the street. And (get this) TV Guide’s headquarters are next door. (Can you imagine TV Guide in a time-shifted, search-oriented future? Me neither.)
Always On founder Tony Perkins kicked off the evening. He showed a brief video in which a tweener said, “TV is going down,” which drew laughter. Another pre-teen girl was agast when told that some television network executives don’t want her to be able to watch their shows on her iPod. “Ooooh!” she said.
The stat that dazzled me, though, was that 62% of video that teenagers view online was created by someone they know. Which is to say, not MTV. Or NBC.
Wow.
Another great soundbite to hit the PowerPoint came from good ole Rupert Murdoch — he of the$580M My Space acquisition — way back in 2005.
What is happening is, in short, a revolution in the way young people are accessing news. They don’t want to rely on the morning paper for their up-to-date information. They don’t want to rely on a god-like figure from above to tell them what s important. And to carry the religion analogy a bit further, they certainly don’t want news presented as gospel.
Amen, sir.
So, after debuting their new venture, Dot TV (basically, a site that enables users to aggregate their favorite online video with their own customizable domain), Daly and Rosenblatt invited the others onstage.
It was a DudeFest onstage (and off), to be sure. Still, the guys had plenty of ideas (and dollars) between ‘em. The discussed ad models, and monetizing UGC, and unleashing network archives. The talked LonelyGirl15, optimal online clip length (two minutes, according to Hurley), and the ongoing value of the water cooler.
Blake Krikorkian warned that “Every day [television networks] don’t embrace [online video] … they’re giving up ground to this huge tidal wave of incredible producers who are creating their own content.”
Chad Hurley said You Tube’s pushing into mobile instead of TV. It where his audience is, he says. Plus, You Tube video “looks better when its shrunken down.”
Michael Roberts prognosticated that the coming year would see a “continung battle over DRM [digital rights management] if you want to get to a world where you can watch your video anywhere.”
Richard Rosenblatt foresaw big media getting “more aggressive, users getting more focussed on their own space, the web getting more verticle.” In short, he said, “Just a lot more, a lot bigger.”
The funny part, though, was that the Always On team thought it would be a good idea to a) webcast the event and b) feed a chatroom about the event on a huge screen behind the panelists. So while Krikorkian was suggesting that network executives have to “allow cannibalistic growth to happen,” audience members were giggling at all the attention justin.tv (who was — meta upon meta — sitting in the second row) was getting over his shoulder.
None of it was terribly earth shattering (but then, the panel was titled “How the Rules Changed: One Year Later,” so we’ll cut ‘em some slack). Perhaps due to our demographic and how hard I’ve been working to understand and address the changing digital landscape, not to mention my experience as an artist who gets paid thanks to online distribution, it all felt pretty familiar. Still, I was happy to be near the conversation, if not in it.
Moreover, it made me think about Chris and my “Mister Rogers & Me” documentary. Why bother with Sundance or HBO? Am I, in fact, the last of the Big Media Dinosaurs? Or the first of a newly evolved species? Was Patti Smith right when she sang, “People have the power?” Do we? Do I? Can I leverage my knowledge of content creation, marketing and distribution to be a rock ‘n roll, online Ernie Pyle (as I’ve dreamt since I was seventeen-years-old)? Maybe. Maybe not.
