Syzlak’s SEM

So someone just called me an “SEM Rockstar.” Well, I don’t know about all that. I mean, sure, I rock the SEM…but an SEM Rockstar. No.

No. No. No.

I am but a humble SEM cave dweller. Doing my work dilligently, never asking for a moment’s rest to come and visit my now shitty blog. Never being able to login to MyBlogLog, forgetting about Plurk, tweeting but once a day…

Hardly a rockstar’s life for me.

In all seriousness, where the fuck have I been? This is my first post for August??? This is the site’s first post in August???? Screw my own self-concern, where the hell has Steve been?

Sorry reader, I know I haven’t been around lately, but I intend to remedy that if I ever lose my job and have to resort to blogging like so many others before me.

Happy Birthday Hack, next year we’ll get you the real Hannah Montana!

Time for yet another Google rival to enter the arena. This is all a bit funny sometimes. Think about it, we have 2 major search engines that can’t figure out a way to compete with Google already. One’s always trying to buy the other, the other’s working with Google not to get bought…the arena’s already full.

Former Googler Anna Patterson disagrees.

Patterson has recently launched Cuil - a new search engine that displays results in a magazine layout. Apparently, Cuil is going to return results based upon the “actual content” of a given page.

Ok.

In my preliminary searches, Cuil has not impressed me. I think it’s great to have more competition in the search engine world, and I honestly would welcome an upstart on to the scene. However, this engine just doesn’t do it for me. The idea behind a magazine layout is kinda cool, unfortunately the pictures that are interspersed with the results ruin the experience. Since Cuil displays pictures next to a result, I assume that the picture is somehow tied to that page-in reality it’s just different media into one big SERP.

Is the layout the appeal? To me, it seems confused. I think SERPs should be analytical; give me my results ranked on a page and differentiated by file type. Pages in one result, pics in another, videos in the next. If you have to put them on one page, try to do it like A9 or Ask…oh wait, they aren’t really doing so well are they?

I think Cuil could be competitive if they stop trying to fool me into thinking that I’m reading the newspaper. People understand that the web is not a magazine, and I believe they want results to be ranked. For that matter, I think that most of the time (studies prove this) people just want one result. In that case, allow me to promote the Search Engine Highlander. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Then this would be the difference between myself and Streko

Hey reader!

Since I’ve gotten back into the swing of things over here at SyzlakSEM, I deemed it time to break out the ol’ Like-Like Link post. Today’s link post will consist mostly of links found today when I remembered that this post was due yesterday. Without further delay

1. Matt McGee has decided to have a job again. Pussy

2. Google decided that my life was just too easy and so they found a way to crawl Flash. Thanks assholes. Do you know how hard it is to deal with a Flash programmer? They’re insufferable bitches. Seriously, I have Flash programmers (some of them even like the oh so hoity title of “designers”) that are friends and they’re cool, but when it comes down to it asking them to change their precious Flash in any way is like asking a 4 year old to share ice cream. Now we’ll have a whole new generation of shitty looking web sites that aren’t planned out with proper architecture and are just projects to show off how fast someone can make a menu animate. I’m thrilled. Thanks again.

3. You know women? You know, like, models? I don’t mean Tyra or Naomi, but like the models on the lower tier. The catalog, newspaper, department store models. Not terribly flashy and they couldn’t make it in Milan; but all in all, damn fine looking women that would make you take a second glance or make Martin Lawrence go “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN.” That’s what I’m talking about. The women that probably get stared at on a subway or train, get hollered at, demeaned, etc. when they really would like/should be treated like anyone else. The women that probably don’t get asked out often enough because they seem unapproachable, those that when interviewed (assuming they’d get interviewed for something) always say that they’re a “t-shirt and jeans kind of gal.” You know these?

Yeah, me too. Except the thing that dork-ass guys like myself fail to realize is that the “jeans” in question are probably a designer pair from a boutique clothing shop in the ritzy part of town and the “t-shirt” was found during a sale (yet not ON sale) at some rich ass store. What we don’t understand is that when they say they’re a “t-shirt and jeans kind of gal,” that means that they feel comfortable in their $300+ outfit. Which is nice I suppose, I’d hate for them to feel uncomfortable in a $1200 dress all day long. However, this is the very root of the problem, that’s not what we thought that sentence meant. Every fucking guy on the planet reads that sentence to mean “I like Levi’s with holes in them and any old t-shirt that fits nicely. I like to eat pizza, drink at least 4 beers a night, go out on the town often - but only to the sports bar ’cause I don’t like to get bored with conversation. Oh, and I really like to just lounge around all weekend.” Why do men think that? Because we’re idiots. Why are we idiots? Because we don’t realize that we’ve described a guy. Then when one of us has a chance to be with a “t-shirt and jeans kind of gal,” we fuck it up because we don’t know why they’re different from our preconceived notions.
Thankfully, Google can help us out on this one too.

4. Long set up on #3 I know, but I couldn’t just go the cheap route and link out. So now onto the blogger’s choice awards. This year they have a category called Worst Blog of All Time. Currently our friend SEOHack is in the “running” (read: nominated) for the prestigious award. Does he deserve it? No, but you should go vote for him anyway. Sure, his blog ain’t so bad, and yes it’s focused on SEO (kinda) so it couldn’t ever win this award, but who cares. It’s safe to sign up too! Those ass-holes ain’t sent me shit.

Fin

While I’ve talked about reputation management and the lack of comprehension within the industry, today I’ll talk about a different type of reputation management: relationship management. I know this strays a bit from the world of SEM, but once in awhile (or for the last 2 months) I’ll stray to tackle other topics that interest me. Often times they apply to SEM or life in general, and I believe this is one of those times.

The other day a friend of mine asked a simple question

How do you tell a coworker to STFU without sounding like an asshole?

This depends and in my younger days, I would have gone the blunt route. Nowadays, I tend to sigh or walk away - I’ve learned to cover my ass. We all have annoying people we know; whether they be co-workers, friends, family, sig. others or bartenders. Learning how to deal with them is clutch in learning how to succeed in life. In my friend’s situation the problem seems to be that a co-worker is loud, frequently off-task and fairly self-centered. Nothing is ever “their fault” thus they never apologize, nor own their own actions.

When I heard the full criticism of the co-worker, I came to a humbling realization

That’s kinda how my old job was

Yeah?

Although I don’t know which side of your situation I was on. I was a lot louder and more obnoxious back then and nothing ever was my fault (but then really…when is it?). There were a couple people who I know despised working with me; however, as someone once put it “you either love Syzlak or you absolutely hate him…no one is ever just ‘fine’ with Syzlak.” Today, I don’t think anyone here hates me…and there are even people who are “just fine” with me!

…and I achieved this goal through maturity.

It’s true. Although I’ve worked since I was 17, I’d never had a white-collar job until I was out of college. Then at the ripe old age of 23 (I failed 1st grade), I entered the Search Marketing world. For the first 6 weeks, I was a bit timid - although always a know-it-all. I felt that I always had to look like I understood, regardless of whether I really did. When I used to work retail, this wasn’t the case. I was willing to listen, to learn and then afterward I would start to let that side of my personality come out. This was the big leagues though, this was something that I might end up doing for a long time; and in my mind, I had to look smarter than everyone else.

After I’d become more talented and given more responsibilities it just got worse. They’d fed my ego. I was going to be the most obnoxious person there, even though the entire time, I just thought they were all to uptight. It was like a Rodney Dangerfield movie for 8 hours a day. People would be working while I would be swearing and cracking one liners. When anyone would try to talk to me about it, I’d respond flippantly with the old “Hey, relax will ‘ya?”

To some extent, none of this has really changed though. I’m sure my direct boss has a hard time when I go off on my rants from time to time. I’m sure he’d rather I didn’t swear. I bet he’d like it if I didn’t snap at him so often. Hell, I’d like it too, but at the same time, that’s just me. Where I’m different from my friend’s co-worker is how, when and where I “act out.” I wouldn’t go off on a rant if I was in a big room with other people, that’s how it was when I was 23 and in my first job. Today, it’s confined to an office with my boss. He tends to be cool with it and accepts me, thus I know I can rant when I need to.

*****

By this point, you’re probably saying, “We get it, you’ve changed. Why, what or how did the change happen?”

For me, it was having a more consequence driven leadership team. When my company was bought out, my days of being a fuck-off had to come to an end. New management came in and they kept calling me on my shit. Sometimes I’d be perceived as being insensitive, rude, inconsiderate to co-workers. Once they even construed something to have been inappropriate with one of my clients. To be absolutely fair, although they weren’t always right and I still see it as a witch hunt (I had refused to relocate), it did make me think twice about how I carried myself throughout the workday.

In general, I think one of the big problems with any office is under-management, and that’s exactly how I was when I had my first team. In a lot of today’s businesses, youth are given roles well beyond their experience. Sometimes it’s due to strong performance, sometimes it’s a lack of personnel; either way, it often leads to either abuse of power or under management.

During my second year at my first job, I became a bit of an important person. I had people in Atlanta, Houston, the OC, Las Vegas, Seattle, Anaheim and Eugene that I either managed, trained, influenced or contacted. Some directly, some indirectly. To make matters worse, my local team were mostly made up of people that the company wouldn’t have hired for a proper job. I had the Leg-Up program from Cypress Creek Elementary and they were difficult at times to say the least. [Note: Josh, Marleena and Daniel, if you read this know that I wouldn't include y'all in this group - you guys were great...well, Daniel...you kinda let me down at the end, but hey we all got tired of that job]

In the end, the best lesson I ever learned was when I realized that it didn’t matter. There’s always going to be something screwing up your day or your life. So why end up making it worse by bitching and blaming. Recently, persistence has been the one thing keeping me going. For 2 years I’ve bothered my boss to expand our department’s client base by going outside of the Agency’s normal business model.

What does he say?

Well, now I’m writing the proposal. Sure, it’s 2 years later, but it took that long to get to the point where

• I could make a change
• I was respected to that level of trust/responsibility
• I’d convinced enough people that this would be a good idea
• I felt confident in the fact that either it would work or I’d be looking for a new job and either way I’d be comfortable

It probably helped that you started wearing pants to work
Yeah, thanks for explaining that boyshorts aren’t named after their audience

If you’re like some (all) of my friends, then you can’t make up your mind to save your life. Thankfully a new web site has taken care of this problem for you. i can’t decide is a new stupid voting site, except that you can enter whatever you like, and as long as you vote on 5 other queries, they’ll show you your results.

Here is a popular query:

Eat it Hack! Finally proof that I’m better.

you should all probably ignore that last one…

Thanks for the tip Hilker!

continued from Syzlak - Lost in NY, Part I

My emergence from the great underground of NY was indeed right outside of the World Trade Center walk. I never really looked through the gate. Had I done so, I’m sure I would’ve wondered about those boys from Iowa, whether they were still alive. I would’ve thought about the weight of that day for my brother. I would’ve thought about how much has changed in the last 7 years, in our country, our world, this city, my gut, everything. So instead I kept my eyes on squarely focused on navigating the crowd until I got the chance to focus them on a squirrel.

My hotel was quite luxurious and the polite staff allowed me to check in early. It was only 10am and I was ready for bed. In a couple hours I was going to meet up with Streko for lunch.

The nap was jarring, constantly interrupted by west coasters who were just getting up and needing to ping ol’ Syzlak. The shower, however, was fantastic. I really hate the grimy stinky feeling I get after traveling. Any time I sit in those damn airplane seats I feel I’ve garnered a new layer of filth, and I immediately desire a cleansing.

I leave for lunch about an hour early in order to visit a guitar shop that’s in the neighborhood.

***

Usually, I’d take a detour here and tell you a long story about how amazing that I happened upon the same guitar store that I went to 7 years ago. I’d say it was great to go back as it was the first truly independent/vintage/boutique store I’d ever been to and it was what really opened me up to crazy assed musical equipment (Z.Vex pedals, etc.). I’d also rant and rave about the fact that I got to play a real 1965 Fender Jazzmaster and that I fell in love with that guitar. I might say that it was a glorious moment realizing that as hip as Portland is, it’ll never compare to the greatness of the east, the grit, the history.

Like I said, normally, but today I just don’t have the time. I’ve got to get this post done ASAP it was due like a month ago.

***

I was told to meet Mr. Streko on the corner of Gray’s & Papaya.

It’s fucking really odd when you’ve never met someone before and you’re supposed to meet in a city like NY. Also, you never look too good when you can’t seem to decide if you want to stand in front of a restaurant (Which would be like standing in line but not being in line, or standing in the area right after a doorway (No it’s not called a foyer. A foyer is a gathering place, like a fancy-assed lobby. Now, while it’s technically possible that douchebags will stop right after a doorway and be in the foyer (Although more importantly they’ll be in the way), I’m more forgivable if there is a foyer, which this wasn’t) like a fucking mouth breather would do) or in front of a porn shop. Those that know me, know that I like to tread the thin line of decency and so I stood directly in between the two. Some fifteen minutes later the one known as Streko found me and we went to lunch.

As it has come to be with most of the people I meet in real life, the first questions asked of me, aside from basic pleasantries, frequently relate to my friend SEOHack. While this is not really a bother to me, it does give me a smile that SEOHack is the topic of conversation when people meet me. In a way, it’s nice. It means that they clearly read both our blogs and know me well enough to know that I’m friends with SEOHack. It’s also a rather cromulent reaction to realizing that I am there, in the present tense, physical, and thus: real. Holy shit, when was the last time I punctuated a list that way? [Streko, don't read that paragraph the wrong way, I knew at the time that we're friends, I'm just saying it's fucking eerie how many times it happens]

An hour and a bland “Philly” cheese steak later, Streko heads back to work and I head off to find my brother. Apparently, he only works about 10 blocks away and so I leave this neck of NY embiggened with the
successes of my first day in NY.

Speaking of the photo on the right, I’ve never seen a cart vendor so thrilled to have someone take a photo of their meat.

…

…

I traverse the concrete jungle for about 30 minutes (I went the wrong way) before finding his office. Here it was, the grand surprise. I must’ve looked so trustworthy to the building security guard.

“Who are you here to see?”

“I’m going to the 33rd floor.”

“Who are conducting business with?”

“I don’t know. There’s a law office on the 33rd floor, my brother’s an attorney there.”

“You don’t know who you’re here to see?”

“…uh. It’s a law firm…it takes up the whole 33rd floor. Stein–”

Before I start rattling off Jewish surnames, I recall that I own an iPhone and could just look at my email from my mother. It’s a good thing too, as the firm has no stereotypical Jewish surnames. I’m granted access to the 33rd floor. I am prepping my entrance. When I get to the 33rd floor I ask for my brother.

FAIL

Apparently he’d decided to cut out of the office a tad early. Dejected, I head back downstairs. Security gives me a quizzical look

“After all that I made you go through, he left early.”

She seems to understand. I go outside to call my brother and find out what he’s doing. It’s three days past his birthday and it would be acceptable for me to now call and wish him a happy birthday: I’m a bit of a bastard.

FAIL

His phone number doesn’t appear to be in my phone.

RETRY

Still not there, not even when I look up “affected know-it-all.”

FAIL

Mom has his number, I’ll call her.

FAIL

No answer. Son of a bitch. Now I’m in the middle of the city, my hotel’s at the southern end, my brother is nowhere to be found and I can’t get a hold of anyone with his number.

ABORT

To cut a long boring-ass story short, my Mom finds out where he is and I go to meet him at his apartment. I deal with the doorman (woman) thusly:

“hi”

“[Brother's name] please, 21st floor. Tell him it’s his brother.” And I said it like fucking Charlie Bronson!

On the other end of the phone my brother says “OOOOOOOOOOOK” in that oh-so perturbed way only he can. He answers the door slightly tentatively as if I was going to ask for money. To his credit, it’s generally accepted within the family that I’m always going to need money and he may be the only person I’d ever ask. Not to say that I’m a poor man, I just am the most likely to need money on short notice. Anyway, he asks why I’m here, I come back with a witty rejoinder about how I didn’t call him on his birthday and I felt bad, so I flew out. Then he tiptoed around where I was staying, I quickly said I had a hotel and all was well in the family again.

See how great it is to be a Syzlak? You can go out and visit kin with the greatest of intentions and it immediately becomes a hassle. You aren’t staying here are you? You came all this way just to hang out? You need money don’t you? (I did end up taking money before the weekend was over, but as my brother put it “Have you reached a point in your life where you’re actually turning down free money?” …no, and I don’t believe I ever will)

Anyway, then we drank and carried on for about 3 days. Not much else can be said about those three days that hasn’t already been told in countless Norse sagas?