Ephesians 6:12 #billsmafia #GBO #letsgobuffalo
Displaced from WNY
Joined January 2022
- Tweets17.1K
- Following913
- Followers500
- Likes75.3K
Paul D'Addario retweeted
We're in a new era of communication, and only one side seems to be living in it. The old guard consultant class is about to be relegated to the dustbin of history.
If you think that high prices lost the election for the right, you don't understand marketing. Humans have no problem paying a premium for a good quality brand. Notice the word "brand", not "product". Are Nikes better than New Balance? Nope. But the brand is better. And notice what happened when they tinkered with the brand and screwed their core narrative? Nike stock fell through the basement. Did the product change? Nope. The brand did.
It's not the product, it's the brand. Results don't sell the product, the storytelling does. Will these newly-elected commies lower prices? Of course not. Are they gonna get you free healthcare? No, your insurance is gonna get even worse, just like it did the last time they tried socialized medicine. They're not going to do anything they've sold you, but...like Saul Goodman said: if you're committed enough, you can make any story work.
The committed storytelling of a couple insane podcasters was enough to fracture an entire political coalition from their own side in less than 2 years...they have zero power, zero credibility, they've never actually governed anything nor produced any results, but...they're good storytellers, and that's all that matters. Are they telling a good story? No, it's atrocious, but they're telling their atrocious story effectively and compellingly.
It is 100% true that everything's too damn expensive, and we all know that inflated prices are always sticky. Does anyone know that it's entirely the result of shutting down the global economy over the flu and (both naive republicans and democrats) printing infinity dollars for several years? Nope...because nobody has effectively told that story, and it's an unsexy story to tell. "Free stuff!" is a VERY easy story to tell, and when everyone's gotta take out a second mortgage just to pay their insurance premiums, "free healthcare" is an unbeatable story. It doesn't matter that "free healthcare" doesn't exist and socialized medicine is a terrible product...it's not the product, it's the brand. And "FREE!" is a great brand.
You can't get mad at people for having the financial literacy of a 9 year old. I mean, you can, but they outnumber you a million to one, so it's not going to be productive. You need to figure out how to make an unsexy story sexy, or else the "free stuff!" crowd is going to eat your lunch every time. If you give people a choice between earning a six pack on a treadmill or taking Ozempic, they're gonna choose Ozempic...they don't care about the side effects. If you give people a choice between fiscal discipline or free stuff...guess what they'll pick? They don't care about the side effects.
With projected growth of 5%, the economy right now is stronger than it's been in generations. Is that the story you hear? Nope. Is that the vibe you feel? Absolutely not, especially when every time you fill up your gas tank, it feels like a diesel enema.
It's not the product, it's the brand. A great product can fall into oblivion with bad messaging...a single bad review from one effective storyteller can tank a restaurant. The "influencer economy" is lucrative for a reason; everybody inherently understands the importance of effective storytelling...except the right. Zohran Mamdani gets it...he has an army of influencers on staff. In a perfect metaphor of this transitional phase of old guard vs new wave political messaging, Zohran nuked the Vice President into oblivion with maybe the biggest ratio in the history of the internet. By simply posting the subway assistant meme, Mamdani got 2 MILLION likes, quoting a post from the VP that had only 10K likes. If you're reading that sentence thinking "this is fucking ridiculous, you're talking about social media likes as political analysis now?"...you are the problem.
Yes, this stuff matters. Rizz matters. The President did a masterful job of this kind of retail politics in his historic 2024 campaign...you can be angry that this is what politics has been reduced to, but you can either adapt or die.
"No the problem is, you didn't deliver enough for the American people!" Are you a moron? Since when does anybody care about that? What have democrats delivered for Californians in the last 20 years? Unmitigated wildfires, homeless drug zombies everywhere, roads that look like Fallujah in 2004...people don't care about results. They think they care about results. That want you to believe they care about results, just as Nike wants you to believe their shoes are better than New Balance...but at the end of the day, all people really care about is the swoosh.
Adapt or die.
Guys, I hate to break it to you, but most political advisors are so bafflingly incompetent, it would make your head spin. All the talented communicators go work in Hollywood or at Saatchi and Saatchi, and these political bros never tap these agencies for help...I've connected several campaigns with literally the best marketing geniuses in the game, got them discounted rates, even...and they just never even bothered calling. It truly feels like a lot of consultants and candidates just want to lose.
You ever wonder how my ads went so massively viral, but there's not been a single candidate who's come close to it? It's their dumbass advisors. I didn't go with any political advisors, and they were SO mad about it. I partnered with a filmmaker and marketing wizard, instead of political grifters. Why? Because I wanted our messaging to be effective. Political ads suck. Nobody watches them. I wanted people to want to watch my ads. The fact that nobody else understands this is...I honestly don't know how to explain it, other than they want to lose.
There are a bunch of candidates who love it when their party loses power. It takes all the heat off them, because then they can't be expected to pass legislation when they're in the minority, plus they can fundraise way better off of the rage when the opposition is running roughshod over the country. Baffling to watch.
His best moment in a Bills jersey came while wearing their absolute worst color scheme. It's poetic.
Would you look at the time. This was my daughter's first election cycle being of age to vote so we went together. Do your civic duty.
Paul D'Addario retweeted
Watching Caleb Williams and the Bears go toe-to-toe with Josh Allen and the Bills in the Super Bowl
Hang it in the Louvre
Blitz & Pressure Rates, Week 8 Only
Despite their high blitz rate, MIN generated relatively few pressures.
Data: @FantasyPtsData
Well, the time has come, @SummRidge 's boy is turning 15! Alex is getting his permit to drive and even though Brian and myself are TOTALLY comfortable teaching him to drive we decided that Rascal should do the honors!
Just touched base with Rascal and he muttered something about feeling safer in France and I told him him to stop being scaredy trash panda and to be a good friend. Got him in line now.
Evidently Alex needed a new hunting rifle so I reckon they are headed to Knoxville to shop a bit!
On theme for this week's fun is a Browning AB3 rifle chambered in .30-06!
Y'all know what we like but be sure and wish Alex, who this post should be a surprise to, a big hearty wholesome happy birthday!
As always, thanks to @SummRidge and let's all have a great week!
Good Luck
Godspeed (especially to you Rascal & Alex)
and Keep Going!
It's the right blue, appreciate that
Inspired by the City of Light. ⚡️
Learn more about our Hometown Remix → bufsabres.co/3X1wUGz
Paul D'Addario retweeted
My car wouldn't start in a Tractor Supply parking lot in Tennessee, so I opened the hood.
I know nothing about engines. In American movies, opening the hood is how a man calls for help. It works outside the movies too.
The first one arrived in under two minutes with a fifty-pound bag of chicken feed on his shoulder. No hello. He set the feed on my bumper, put his hands on his hips, and looked into my engine.
Then a man from a truck hauling fence posts. Hands on hips.
Then an older man came out of the store holding a receipt. He had not finished paying. Through the window I could see the cashier still holding his card. I think he heard the hood.
Nobody touched anything. Nobody asked my name. Three strangers stood around my engine like it was a campfire.
"Battery," said Chicken Feed.
"Could be the starter," said Fence Posts.
"It's not the starter," said Receipt.
Fence Posts made a clicking noise with his mouth to show what a bad starter sounds like. Receipt said that was the wrong click and did his own, and for a while two grown men in Tennessee just clicked at each other. I did not interrupt. It felt religious.
It was the battery. The terminals were crusted white. Chicken Feed walked to his truck, came back with a can of Coca-Cola, cracked it, and poured it on my battery.
"Has to be Coke."
"Pepsi works," said Fence Posts.
"Pepsi does not work, Ronnie."
"It's the same acid!"
"Then why'd God make Coke?"
I looked it up that night. Men have been having this exact argument online since at least 2004.
The sun was going down. Receipt said, "Somebody hold a light," and a flashlight was in my hand.
I pointed it at the battery.
"Not there. Where I'm looking."
I moved it.
"Where I'm looking NOW."
For ten minutes I chased an old man's eyes around an engine with a beam of light. I have trained with a sword for twenty years. Nothing has ever asked more of my wrists.
Then, without looking up, Receipt said, "Don't watch my hands, son. Watch my face. Took my daddy eleven years of yelling to teach me that."
So I watched his face. I saw where he was going to look before he looked, and the light was already waiting there.
He stopped correcting me.
The car started on the first try. Nobody cheered. Chicken Feed took his feed back off my bumper, Fence Posts said "There ya go," and in under a minute they were gone, the way they came.
I was closing my hood when a truck two rows over wouldn't turn over. Up went its hood. A father, and a boy of maybe nine.
I walked over with the flashlight. I did not ask. I put the light where the father's eyes were about to go.
He glanced at me. Then at his son.
"Watch how he holds it."
