Also happened a while back with Amazon reviews for Tuscan milk http://tinyurl.com/pjlnq6 and Uranium Ore http://tinyurl.com/oaex8x Christian Nelson wrote:
This reminds me of a recent experience. Some context: We've had periodic problems keeping raccoons from trying to enter our attic. They try to rip a hole in the roof under the eves of our dormers. This is not good. So, I searched online for a solution. One suggestion was the use of coyote urine, as coyotes are raccoon predators. So, I went online to see what coyote urine might cost me. (Of course, that was before I realized that the urine would stink to high heaven, and waft into the house through our windows.) I found some of the stuff on Amazon.com. That's when I saw the relevant phenomenon: a bizarre but creative review that few will ever likely see, but if they ever did would no doubt attract attention to the product's Amazon page. (I guess if its a marketing ploy, this email posting of mine is proof that it worked.) The review follows:
I am not sure why this product is advertised as a "lure", since it is obviously meant to repel deer and other creatures wary of coyotes. I myself do not have deer problems, living in a Manhattan condo, but I do have a rather willful Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named Sir Winston who aggravates me to no end with his aggressive behavior, incessant barking, and refusal to obey my commands. Quite simply, I just don't get no respect from him. I have tried discipline, bribery, psychotherapy, and even physical restraints, but nothing works. After Sir Winston chewed up and peed on my $1200 Amedeo Testoni loafers, I knew I had to get serious.
The coyote urine smelled no different from the hundreds of other urine I have smelled. Perhaps I was expecting something gamier or muskier than your average urine. For a moment I was afraid that someone might have simply urinated into the container, trying to pass it off as coyote urine. Brushing my doubts aside, I went to the bathroom, removed my shirt, and then liberally applied the coyote urine to my body--under my chin, on my torso, rubbing it into my arms--until I fairly reeked of the pungent odor. I stepped out of the bathroom and called to Sir Winston. Not surprisingly, nothing happened. I went to search for him and found him in the kitchen, peeing on my Cuisinart. The moment I came in, however, his body seemed to tense, and he turned around quickly, whimpered, scrambled off the counter and ran to the living room to hide under the sofa. I followed him to the sofa, got down on my hands and knees, and called to Sir Winston. He responded with a high-pitched whine. You can imagine how powerful and in-charge I felt.
"Sir Winston!" I yelled, "Come out now and face your master!" Sir Winston crawled out, crouching low, and looked up at me with humility and fear. "I am top dog now, and you will obey me!" Sir Winston actually seemed to nod his head--quite a change from his usual response of biting my ankle. "Go now to your room and repent your past disobedience!" I yelled, and then, for good measure, I flexed my chest and arms and growled, "ARRRRGGGHHH!!!" Sir Winston bolted to his room as if the very Devil himself were chasing him.
My success with Sir Winston has led to my wearing coyote urine all the time and growling whenever anyone crosses me. The other junior partners at the firm where I work have developed a new respect for me, and even the senior partners have begun to give me a wide berth. I am now experimenting with other predator urine, including wolf and bear, but coyote remains my favorite.
Is this Word of Mouth marketing? If it is, its the best kind, because it's too darn hard to determine if it actually is marketing. Just like the best pieces of irony are those that readers aren't sure are meant to be taken as irony. --Christian Nelson
On May 22, 2009, at 11:37 AM, Charlie Balch wrote:
In today's Washington Post: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/05/21/AR2009052104
472.html
We need a new term. Viral marketing doesn't fit.
... <SNIP> ...
For a day or two, a black T-shirt featuring an image of three wolves baying at a full moon claimed the top slot at the online store's clothing bestseller list, beating out the usual, unremarkable mix of Levi's 505 regular-fit jeans, Crocs clogs and Adidas running shoes.
And really, why wouldn't you buy the shirt, which is priced from $7.65 to $17.93, depending on your size? Just read the long and growing list of customer testimonials promising earth-shattering experiences or psychedelic vision quests upon purchase.
"I bought this shirt and instantly old girlfriends started calling me again," wrote one reviewer.
"My doctor says the cancer has gone into remission," wrote another. "Thanks for changing my life!"
As retailers, media companies and even government agencies attempt to get with the times and connect with an online audience, every once in a while they get a reminder: Anybody, or any group, armed with a Web browser can anonymously game the system and manipulate the marketplace at sites inviting user feedback -- for profit or just for fun. ... </SNIP> ...
Charlie
Charles Balch MBA, Ph.D. Professor of Business and Computer Information Systems http://virgil.azwestern.edu/~cvb
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