I love Mad Men. Besides the fact that the set design is superb, the costumes delicious and the writing wry and smart, I just love the characters. Every single one of them is broken and yet there’s something so utterly engaging about each and every one.
But what I love more than anything else is that some of them are following me on Twitter.
Really.
Well, not really, but it’s amusing anyway.
We interrupt this tale with this note to readers: Not wanting to assume that everyone outside the echo chamber of Silicon Valley even knows what the hell Twitter is, here’s an overview.
And now back to our regularly scheduled blog post…
To be honest, I missed the week that this whole thing got really out of hand. (Leave it to me to unplug for precisely the four days that something interesting happens.) So for those of you who missed it here’s the gist:
Not too long after Twitter updates from the likes of Don Draper, Peggy Olson, Pete Campbell, Joan Holloway and other characters from the show began gurgling through the Twitter-sphere someone got their stockings in a twist.
That someone was AMC.
Then suddenly the accounts were suspended.
At first speculation was that Twitter pulled the plug because they were considered “spam” (if a Twitter account is not a “real” person it’s defined as spam). But turns out that Twitter merely responded to a DMCA takedown notice the network lobbed its way.
Long story short, things sorted out and slowly the gang from Sterling Cooper began popping up again.
As for that take-down notice, the network claims they never made such a demand, but I think that’s bullshit. You see, this Twitter outreach wasn’t a concerted effort by the network or even by one of their agency minions. This was driven by fans.
And to me that’s where the story really becomes interesting on two fronts.
First, there’s the manner in which it was executed. The organized chaos of it all – something emblematic of social media – reminded me of Ori Brafman and Rod Beckstrom’s book, The Starfish and the Spider. It’s an analysis of leaderless organizations and how a dearth of more “traditional leadership” has given rise to groups and movements that exert such sheer force that they shred preconceptions about markets and business.
It’s a great book, and I definitely learned a lot – but it didn’t really surprise me all that much. After all, spend enough time wading through the innovation maelstrom that can be Silicon Valley and it’s pretty clear that tectonic change of markets often comes from up-and-coming rabble rousers.
This is interesting, but it’s another aspect of this story that tickles my brain, and it has more to do with why this whole thing got such a strong wind in its sails.
Of course people creating fan sites for characters or the actors who play them isn’t new. And of course in the era of social media myriad social network profiles exist for well-known characters/actors – both real and fabricated. Heck, one fellow even built a rather substantial Silicon Valley presence by not being Steve Jobs.
But this felt different, and I’ll tell you why.
This isn’t about a fan page or site where someone crafts careful messages that are filtered and processed to feign authenticity in voice. This is not about someone parading about as someone else as satire. This is not a one-way broadcast designed to prop up a two-dimensional representation of a character.
This is Twitter.
It is neither static nor a monologue. It’s a dynamic, rapidly moving stream of commentary. And the people behind these well fashioned virtual voices did something more than just fabricate a new channel for these characters – they made them human.
When I got emails telling me I was being followed on Twitter by this collection of characters, I was amused. Then I got an @cathybrooks message or two in response to something I’d posted. Finally I decided to engage, and began a conversation with Helen Bishop (the ever-so-scandalously divorced single mother on the show).
Here’s the weird thing. As I stated at the outset, one of the things I find most appealing about Mad Men is, in fact, the altogether shattered nature of these characters. Yes the script is artfully written. Yes it’s a visual feast both in terms of the superbly designed and dressed sets and wardrobe. But there’s also that sense of moral strength I get from watching such things.
I mean, it’s not nice to revel in the misery of others in the real world, but let’s face it, sometimes the best way to put your own life in perspective is to get a glimpse into other people’s mishegoss. And so watching programs where we can clearly see the characters’ flaws, and feel that if we were in those situations we would/could make better choices, serves - at least for me – as something of a balm.
That and it’s just amusing.