Feet in the oven, head in the fridge?

The most amusing demolition of statistical tripe may be the joke that if my feet are in the oven and my head in the fridge my temperature may be on average normal.

I was reminded of this on seeing that web expert Gerry McGovern says the ideal length for a page on a regular web site (not a landing page) is 300 words. 50% of visitors will read all a 300-word page, but only 5% will scan 1,000 words.

"Ideal" meaning what?

The question is, which readers will read the longer copy; and which the shorter? And which among them will be most interested? No prizes for guessing - and heaven preserve us from experts.

How I got eaten by alligators - a true story, with a penis thrown in

Nearly twenty years ago I did a couple of talks at American Express in New York. In fact if I crane my neck I can see the video tapes of one of them from my desk in our sordid basement.

Anyhow my jokes went down well enough for them to ask me to create a training programme for their senior people. This I did with rave reviews - after the first day 100% of the delegates said they would recommend it to their colleagues. So I went on whizzing around the world for them until some politically correct twerp complained about my language, and the whole adventure ended.

My clients there were three wonderful ladies, and eventually I heard from one of them about five years ago. She was writing a book, and could she use my name for the main villain?

Thus it was that I appeared in The Ivy Chronicles, by Karen Quinn. In it I meet a nasty end, being eaten by alligators, which to be honest may not entirely explain why it became a best seller - the first of several she has written. Last time I heard it was being made into a film. Fame at last?

Karen is extremely funny as you'll see if you go to http://karenquinn.net/category/blog.

I don't know anyone else who would have an entry headed "Meet me under the Penis at the Time Warner Center."

What an admirable woman!

Crazy thinking on Twitter about Wikipedia

I am getting lots of invitations - as no doubt you are - from people to follow them on twitter.

Most twitterings are witterings, but since I hardly ever get invited to anything nowadays (sad little chap) I tend to say yes.

Thus it was that I ended up looking through some figures about Wikipedia's fundraiser, aimed at raising $7.5 million. They were immensely frustrating because figures are meaningless unless you can see the copy they refer to, so I started reading the comments at the bottom.

One read: "Am I the only one, or is there something somewhat gross about engineering messages to extract the greatest possible donations? Maybe this is standard practice in fundraising, maybe it’s the right thing to do ... but something about it doesn’t sit quite right."

The writer was only one of those who said more or less the same thing.

I was immediately reminded of a Catholic doctrine called invincible ignorance, then recalled that ludicrous U.S. party of the 1850's called the Know Nothings, which essentially objected to new immigrants.

What is implicit in the idea of NOT trying to get the most possible funds for a charity? If everyone thought that way charities that have saved millions of lives would all have closed down.

In fact, on the basis that we should never test what works and what doesn't, all human progress, starting with the discovery of fire or how to escape an angry sabre-toothed tiger would never have got started.

All human knowledge derives from finding a better way; and the only means of doing so derives from asking "what if?" - then putting something to the test.

New Year's Day Games in Kabul - from a marketer I REALLY admire

I somehow doubt whether all that many able copywriters are currently serving as soldiers of fortune in Afghanistan, but Greg Waggett is.

These photos were taken by him in Kabul on New Year's Day. They show the players and spectators of a game called Bushkazi which has been been played in Afghanistan for hundreds of years. It's bit like Polo, except the ball is a headless dead goat or calf, and the players (and spectators) are not at all like the ones Prince Charles used to play with.

I have met some interesting characters in my time, but none to compare with - or whom I admire more - than Greg, who was introduced to me by David Ogilvy (who else?) and who ran an agency in Cambridge - graveyard of many a hope - where his talents were entirely wasted on the local business population.

Here are some of Greg's notes on this quaint local sport. "Forget health and safety for the horses - and riders. It makes polo look like something for Goldilocks and it makes horses as Ascot knows them look like Bambi. These are war-horses. In short, a savage and thrilling spectacle. Even the spectators get a whipping if the 'ref' thinks you are getting too close. And if you are in the way of the horses when they unexpectedly change direction, then tough!"

What I particularly love is Greg's first shot of what I presume is the Official Photographer standing taking shots with his phone at what seems to me a range entirely too close to the action for comfort.

Next time you're agonizing over your adwords, spare a thought for Greg. And next time you're wondering whether we should have got involved in Afghanistan, remember what the locals do for fun - then compare it with golf, and take note of what the spectators carry.

A new year joke. Don't all laugh at once

I found this in a magnificent book of old Punch Cartoons given to me by my ex-wife and friend Pam.

The book has convinced me that few things wear as badly as yesterday's jokes. But it does contain an enormous amount of fascinating social history - and some subjects seem funny to all generations.

There's a remarkable number of jokes about downtrodden husbands and other traditional subjects. This one from John Leech - which did make me smile slightly - dates back over 150 years. Since my son Nick has just got engaged to a beautiful girl from Dundee, and the new year is always associated with Scotland, it seems pretty timely, and has nothing to do with the fact that I have a Scots client who owes me a few thousand quid.

Having got that off my chest, a happy New Year to all of you.