Editor’s note from the future – Many of the links mentioned in these articles are dead. Follow them at your own risk. Or invent a time machine. Either way is cool with us.
Geek.com
Friday, June 21
Geek.comOkay, let’s talk about Star Trek. The original five-year mission o the USS Enterprise was cut short after three years due to dwindling ratings. (You always hear about things dwindling, but have you ever actually caught something mid-dwindle? I’m sorry, it’s been a long week.)
The series would have been cut even shorter, at the end of the second season, if not for a massive letter campaign organized and executed by Star Trek fans. The Fans saved Star Trek. And suddenly, the landscape changed, and the Fans became a much more significant part of the Cult TV equation. They weren’t just Nielsen numbers anymore, they were an actual entity, a force to be reckoned with. And not just reckoned with, but encouraged, enticed, and rewarded. The Fans saved Star Trek, and now Star Trek had to keep hold of the Fans. Making the product was now only part of the process.
Star Trek quickly became very, very good at fostering and maintaining that fan relationship. Public appearances, conventions, auctions, fan clubs, newsletters, merchandise — and at this early stage, it wasn’t just a money-making machine. It was an end unto itself, a recognition of the circular nature of the entertainment business, and Cult TV in particular.
Why were they so good at this, so quick to embrace it? Because the people who made Star Trek were geeks, and they weren’t afraid to embrace their geeky fans. The process has become slicker now, more commercial, but even now, Star Trek’s unique open-door policy on script submissions is testament to the fact that they still rely on the contribution of individual fans, and aren’t terrified of leaving at least one door open for the occasional geek to slip through.
Now, let’s talk about Muppets. As Muppet scribe Jim Lewis says, “Miss Piggy is a pig in a dress, and her whole life is a denial of that undeniable fact.” And that’s true of the folks at the Jim Henson Company, too — they’re grown-ups who play with puppets, but their corporate-image website is a denial of that undeniable fact.
Do a Google search for Muppet news, and Henson.com doesn’t even make the list. There are Muppets on the official Henson site, but they’re commercial links — the Kermit NASCAR logo, the Treasure Island DVD — but if you click on them, you get sent immediately away from Henson.com. It’s like they’re saying, hey, if that’s what you want, then get outta here, ya crazy kid. We’ve got Grand Company Visions to tell you about.
The secret is, most of the Henson people, like the Star Trek people, are geeks too. (They’re people who play with puppets, remember?) Some of them are even proud web geeks: Rick Lyon, Allan Trautman and Karen Prell all have their own sites — they’re all really proud of the work they’ve done, and they’re not afraid to look like geeks. Henson.com, on the other hand, is like the geek who got a makeover and ends up dating the class jock without anyone the wiser. Henson.com has taken off its glasses, shaken out its hair, put on some makeup and snubbed its asthmatic geek friends.
How does the Star Trek model fit in here? On Monday, I already talked about how the Fan Dream of the Perfect Corporate Website isn’t feasible, because we want them to give us free stuff (episode guides, archive notes, on-set photos, whatever) and capitalism hasn’t found a way to make free stuff pay yet. But what if Corporate.com teamed up with Fan.com?
What if there were some way that Henson could endorse and oversee a comprehensive Fan Geek resource, without actually spending any money on it? What if they teamed up with some genuine Fan Geeks, the kind of people who would be spending all their time running a site like this anyway, and started a website? The result would be Geek.com — or, in fact, Kermitage.com. In theory, it’s win-win. In practice, like everything, it’s more complicated than that. At the moment, Kermitage promises a lot that hasn’t been delivered yet, and it could do with a damn good text editor, but it is a really good idea, and a clever use of the corporate-fan relationship.
But Henson’s got other things to worry about at the moment, like trying to make some damn money, so I’m gonna challenge the fans: I want more really good ideas like that. I want the Muppet online experience to be like the Star Trek online experience, where you can’t turn around without tripping over another Seven of Nine site.
Why is the most famous Muppet site of all — Bert is Evil — not even a real Muppet fan site? Where are the countless rival semi-legal Muppet script sites? Where are the Miss Piggy biographies, the Electric Mayhem discographies, the Dr. Bob jokelopedias? Where is the “I Love Martin P. Robinson” page? Why aren’t there any Pepe sites out there? Why can’t I find a list of Kermit quotes? Where are all the Grover-lovers, the Fozzie-philes and the Mokey-monkeys? And why should I have to wait until Bear’s core audience grows up and starts typing before I can start illegally downloading Tutter sound clips?
Here’s what I want: The Kermit/Miss Piggy Rumor File. The Pip and Pop FAQ. The Many Faces of Fat Blue. Crazy Harry Explodes Your Screen. Animal: A Freudian Analysis. Jerry Nelson — The Man, The Muppets, The Music. An Andy and Randy Eulogy. Sam the Eagle’s Political Commentary. Beauregard’s Domestic Cleaning Tips. The Continuing Adventures of Traveling Matt. A Pictorial Guide to Muppet Performers with Beards.
So, fellow doll wigglers, this is my Tough Pigs Challenge to you: Go forth and multiply. A strong web presence is the sign of a strong fan base — and by doing your bit for the Muppet Fan Revolution, you’ll only be challenging Henson to create bigger and greater achievements. (Imagine how much effort they’ll have to put into blowing us away at the next Muppetfest once all the fans know everything there is to know!)
Go on — be a geek. But don’t do it just because I told you to. Do it because you love the Muppets, and you’ve got a unique take on them that just has to be shared with the world. (Oh, what the heck, do it because I told you to.)
And if you do a good enough job, and your Muppet Geek fame spreads far and wide, then Craig Allen might even come round for Thanksgiving dinner.
by Kynan Barker
