Even the Dog Knows What the Doorbell Is

or
A Continuing Argument Against the term “User Generated Content”

Brainerd, Minnesota is about three hours north of Minneapolis. If you haven’t heard of it, you’re not alone and I certainly don’t fault you. It’s a resort town for hunters, fishermen and the occasional motion picture (Fargo was shot here, the locals are mighty proud). I’m not a local and for that I’m equally proud. Today, we’re talking about what’s MINE.

The house I live and work in is a fully restored 100-year-old Sears & Roebucks’ clone. It’s comfy, nice to look at, surprisingly well insulated (WHEW!) but when a previous owner rebuilt it he oddly left out a doorbell. Knock loud little missionaries, I’m working with headphones on, blasting William Shatner’s Has Been directly into my brain (“You’re gonna Diiiie!”).

I have two pets, a cat and a dog. Technically, I have four, but the goldfish don’t inspire me to comm about them… they don’t do much more than look at me longingly for food three seconds after they’ve been fed. My, they are exciting.

Oliver is a one-year-old Jack Russell Terrier, which means genetically he’s one of the smartest breeds of dog. Sadly, Oliver is from the shallow end of the gene pool. Whenever a doorbell rings on TV he goes barking like a fool and runs to the door. I’ve had this dog since he was a pup, I’ve raised him in this house, and he has never heard a doorbell. The previous owner whelped him and raised him for seven-and-a-half-weeks in a barn. Now, that’s a SPECIAL kind of stupid.

But is it really? Perhaps he’s channeling another dog (Patricia Arquette, where have you gone?) or the sound of the doorbell has somehow been hardwired into the psyche of the beast (Pavlov, you BITCH!). It doesn’t matter, the fact remains that the dog knows exactly what a doorbell is for.

You, the blog reading, podcast listening, forum trolling public know what The Comm is by instinct. You might have been introduced to it at one point (few of us were born with a mouse in our hands. No, that’s not a mouse). Using it is easy: pick the format you like, are comfortable with, are forced to use or is company policy and go. The problem, of course, is that you are creating communication on an unprecedented level. Where your ancestors (or, {gasp}, you) once said things, thought things, and believed things that would be communed and vanish into the ether, now they become a permanent part of The Comm - that part of the online world that allows you (YOU!) to be on record as having said something, anything or nothing… kinda makes you fuzzy, doesn’t it? We’re in this together, you know. Our 15-minutes have been stretched to a lifetime… but if everyone is famous why would we care who’s got the time today?

It’s all about the little dog and the doorbell -- we know it’s there, we know it means something, but the house isn’t wired for sound and opening the door is scary. Do you bark at the noise or break out the braided copper and get to work?

Identifying what The Comm is, what we have, what I have is what has brought all this up and why I’m writing today (you lucky dog, you!). The Comm is MINE! It’s not OURS, it’s MINE. You’re equally entitled to say “It’s MINE” and I encourage you to do so, but don’t make the mistake of believing that we SHARE The Comm, we don’t. The Comm is about controlling your own reality and not only how you choose to perceive it but how you choose to RECEIVE it. No one has the same Comm.

All Comms are Equal, but Some Comms are More Equal Than Others.

Comm again?
Kep!