Means Of Control

I’m banging my shoe on the desk right now to convince you to opt in to my bullets mini-course

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On October 12 1960, Nikita Khrushchev took the podium at the UN General Assembly. Khrushchev was a short, round, combative guy. He was also the First Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, and one of the two most powerful men on the planet.

“Mister President of the Assembly,” Khrushchev shouted in Russian, “you must bring these proceedings to order! What the previous speaker just said is completely false! He is a stooge! A lackey! A toady of American imperialism!”

Khrushchev then took off his left shoe. He started to bang it full force on the podium. “I refuse to have the great name of the Soviet Union blackened in this way!”

Well, I’ve just taken off my own left shoe. And though you can’t see me, I am ready to start banging it on my desk.

For the past two days, I’ve had a hidden offer at the end of my posts. The offer is for you to sign up to get my free “How to write bullets” email mini course. Here’s a bit of what’s inside that course:

* Halbert’s crucial bullet secret (almost unknown among copywriters) (email 4)

* How A-list copywriters stab you in the heart, and then twist the knife (email 3)
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* What never to omit in a bullet. Never. (email 1)​
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* The #1 technique for bizarre bullet mechanisms. Take a piece of paper and write these 5 words across the top. (email 9)

* How women can write more exciting bullets (even if the source material is boring) (email 7)
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* Genuine weird payoff bullets (email 11)

* A simple 3-hour “trick” which 100% makes your bullets better (email 13)

I put out this free mini course only once before, last January. Eventually, I expanded it significantly, made it interactive, and turned it into my Copy Riddles training.

So here I am now, shoe in hand, giving you a chance to bring your own proceedings in order, and get the original free course. Today. The last day it is available.

You’ll have to sign up to my email newsletter first. And then, you will have to write me an email to ask to be put on the free bullets email course. If you’re willing to jump through all those hoops, here’s where to get started.

The power of accusation

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Yesterday was the first time I ever got excited to watch a sales message. But I wound up bitterly disappointed. Aye, even offended.

Quick background:

I talked to a friend the day before. He’s a doctor. “We’re headed for a new round of corona lockdowns,” he said. He gave me reasons why, based on Israel and the rise in infections there. All this was news to me.

Then yesterday, I got an email with the subject line, “COVID’s return.” My ears pricked up because of my friend’s warning. I opened the email.

“Corona is all about control,” the email said. This tapped into my recent interest in mechanisms of control. So I clicked the link and found—

Ron Paul! Telling me the truth about corona!

Now in my eyes, Ron Paul is a genuine celebrity. He’s a former U.S. Congressman… a well-known libertarian figure… and three-time presidential candidate.

So that’s the quick background. New corona lockdowns… mechanisms of control… Ron Paul. That’s why I was excited to watch this sales message. For the first time ever.

Sure, the message came from Stansberry Research. So I knew what the conclusion would be — buy our newsletter and protect your money, or even prosper while the rest of the country goes to hell.

Still, I thought I might hear something new and interesting along the way. Something that would give me context for puzzling things I’ve been seeing. Something that might make me say, “A-ha, it makes sense now!”

But I didn’t get any of that. Even though the email promised to tell me “what’s actually going on in America”… and even though the sales page warned “Something BIG Is Coming”…

All I got was a bit about Ron Paul (it turns out he’s a doctor by training)… and then a bunch of stuff about out-of-control government debt… and how we are giving too much money to stupid things like the National Endowment for the Arts.

“But there’s nothing new here, Ron!” I finally yelled at the screen. “Why are you wasting my time with this? But don’t answer, I know. Because they are paying you. Still, Stansberry’s been saying this same thing for what, 20 years? Why should I buy it now? Couldn’t they come up with something a little fresh? A little stimulating?”

Hm.

Maybe you agree with me that Ron Paul and Stansberry should both go to the Devil, where they came from. Maybe you’re glad I finally voiced that.

Or maybe you’re puzzled by my negativity, and you’re wondering why I’d yell at my own computer screen.

Or maybe you’re put off. “All right, Bejako,” I hear you saying, “since you’re so holy, what fresh and stimulating thing did you say with this nasty email?”

To which I could pretend I’m not selling anything here. But you and I both know that’s not true.

So let me leave you with a quote from Arthur Miller’s The Crucible:

“Is the accuser always holy now? Were they born this morning as clean as God’s fingers? I’ll tell you what’s walking Salem – vengeance is walking Salem. We are what we always were in Salem, but now the little crazy children are jangling the keys of the kingdom, and common vengeance writes the law!”

The Crucible is a morality play about judging and accusing others. But it’s a morality play because it’s not just about a bad episode in Massachusetts in 1692… but about something fundamental in human nature.

So here’s the new and maybe stimulating bit I offer you:

I’m not suggesting you blacklist people. But if you set yourself up as an accuser in your market, at least some of the time… there is power in that.

Power?

Yes, power. The chance to write the law.  The keys to the kingdom. Particularly if you accuse somebody new… and if you are genuine in your outrage and your vengeance.

By the way, I know of several other direct response companies that are guilty of deadly marketing sins. I’ve seen them at night, walking with the Devil. And I will name them. But if you want to read more about that, sign up to my newsletter here.

Virtue selling

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Because you are an independent thinker, I believe you will appreciate the following:

​​A few nights ago, I was walking along the riverside when a series of loud explosions went off all around me.

I didn’t flinch. Not because I’m so brave. But because I knew what was going on.

The explosions were firecrackers, fireworks, or possibly cannon fire, set off in celebration. They were followed by mass cheering that broke out from balconies, bars, and cafes all over the city.

Because it’s the Euro Cup now. And the national soccer team had just scored a goal.

I say national team, but that’s not what they are called. Not officially.

Instead, government officials, TV pundits, and newspaper editors now use the terms “we,” or more commonly, “Croatia.”

“Croatia was magnificent”

“Croatia needs to try harder”

“Croatia rises from the ashes”

My point is that soccer here is a kind of new state religion.

I’m not kidding about that.

Once upon a time in this part of the world, belonging to the official church and being a good citizen were two sides of the same personal identity coin.

Today, the church has lost much of its pull.

But soccer has gained where the church has lost.

So today, billboards, TV, and newspapers all repeat a hundred versions of the same two-sided message:

“Croatia is soccer! And soccer is Croatia!”

But let me step off my 1984 pulpit. And let me get to the money-making shot at the open goal.

This official push for soccer fandom brought to mind something I’ve heard from two successful marketers.

The marketers in question are Chris Haddad and Ben Settle. And independent of each other, they both said the same thing:

You want to make buying from you a virtue.

Sure, people want to get rich, get laid, and get swole.

But maybe not as much as you think. Maybe not enough to pull out their wallets, to overcome their fears, and to set aside the bad memories of previous purchases that went nowhere. Maybe not enough to buy.

So you link buying from you to a virtue:

Your prospect is a rebel. Or a patriot. Or a visionary.

And by virtue of buying from you… he is making the world a better place… and reaffirming that he is in fact a deserving person.

And when your prospect starts wondering if that’s really something he wants, you remind him:

He still gets rich/laid/swole as part of the bargain. A good deal, no? 1-0 for your business.

And now the pitch:

Since you are an independent-thinking person, you might want to sign up to my email newsletter. By signing up to my email newsletter, you will be exposed to novel ideas, making you an even more independent-thinking person. Plus you might make some money in the process.

Humans are not savages, but they can be made so on demand

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Yesterday, I read a fantastic yet true story, a kind of real-life Lord of the Flies. Except the outcome was very different from the book:

As you might know, Lord of the Flies is a story about a bunch of boys who get shipwrecked on an island.

Pretty soon, they become mean, thuggish, and destructive. Some of the boys are killed by the others. Half the island is burned down.

What can you do? People are savages, and kids even more so. Except maybe not:

The real-life version of this story involves six boys from the island kingdom of Tonga.

They were bored stiff at their English boarding school.

So they decided to steal a local fisherman’s boat and sail away to adventure, and maybe even make it to New Zealand.

They didn’t make it.

After months of search, the boys were declared dead back home. Funerals were held for them.

And then, 15 months later, they were discovered by an Australian adventurer fishing in the waters around an uninhabited island named ‘Ata. The boys had shiprecked there and survived, alone all that time.

And here’s the real-life twist:

All six boys were happy, healthy, and harmonious.

They had survived by eating fish and coconuts and drinking rainwater collected in hollowed-out tree trunks.

They had broken up their chores, such as gardening, cooking, and guard duty, and they took turns doing them.

They built a gym and a badminton court, and they played a makeshift guitar made out of the wreckage of the boat.

When one of the boys fell down a ravine and broke his leg, the others climbed down after him, brought him back up, then set his leg using sticks and leaves. He recovered while the other boys took turns doing his chores.

So is this really the true nature of human beings?

​​And if so, why does your typical junior high school look nothing like it?

​​Why does Lord of the Flies resonate with us instead?

The answer comes from another real-life variant of the Lord of the Flies theme. A bunch of people stranded on an uninhabited island… with a TV crew and a prize to be won.

I’m talking about the TV show Survivor. I’ve never watched it, but I know the basic setup:

Direct competition for something scarce.

It’s all you need to turn people into savages. A finding that’s been repeated in different settings, not just on reality TV.

So let me leave off today by saying I can see two options:

One is to disconnect as much as possible from the doctrine of healthy competition. This might require moving to a deserted island, or at least turning off the TV.

The other option is not to disconnect from anything, but to profit from it. Because creating scarcity, even when there is none, and encouraging competition, or at least reminding people of it, is a great means of control.

Marinate on that for a bit. And if you want more real-life stories on the topic of profit and control, you might like my email newsletter. But better be quick, because spots are limited and others are taking them as you read this. Click here to sign up.

Stop daydreaming for once and read this

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Listen up you dreamer:

One day back in 1999, after Gordon Ramsay opened his first restaurant, he got a tableful of famous visitors.

There was Joan Collins of Dynasty fame. Then model Nicola Formby. And finally A.A. Gill, the food critic for The Sunday Times.

But Gill had earlier written a nasty review of Ramsay’s restaurant.

So Ramsay left his kitchen, walked over to the table, and kicked the whole group out.

Speaking later, an emotional A.A. Gill said:

“He seems to be a classic bully. Somebody who will overreact to people beneath him. And then feel terribly aggrieved when somebody he doesn’t have innate power over criticizes him.”

Sounds about right, yeah?

Ramsay is famous for his outbursts. (“Will he be able to control it?” asks the breathless TV teaser.)

He yells. He insults. He curses.

“Yes, Gordon,” his humbled staff reply, eyes on the floor.

​​And that’s my takeaway for you today.

A while ago, I made a brain dump of ideas on the topic of “natural authority.” What do people who have inborn charisma seem to share?

One of the things on my list was that they target the weak. You know. The poor, the friendless, the tax collectors and sinners.

Because as powerful as natural authority is, it won’t work reliably on a healthy, stable person without any gaping emotional wounds.

But the insight I learned recently, through Mike Mandel and Chris Thompson, is that people with natural authority can create emotional wounds. On demand.

One way is just what Gordon Ramsay does. Insults, humiliation, browbeating. Not all the time. But enough that there’s always a risk of it.

And here’s my addition to this theory:

I believe that a “temper,” as TV calls it, is not only a means to natural authority. It’s also a signal of it.

In other words, you don’t have to get personally insulted by a would-be leader in order for his authority to rise in your eyes. It’s enough to see it happen to somebody else. For example, to an emotional food critic, getting kicked out, while a restaurant full of people watches.

That’s why as a society, we love people like Ramsay. Sure, it’s both horrifying and entertaining to watch others getting cowed and humiliated. But it also feeds our need to look to a charismatic leader.

And by the way:
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You can see the same in various corners of the online guru and influencer world.

​​Now that you know this, you can choose to use it yourself — or at least be aware of what’s happening in your own head, when you witness others using it.

One last thing:

Sign up to my email list.

What are you standing there and looking for? You dreamer. Click the link already and sign up.