There is a lot of talk about branding that goes on in the Twittersphere these days. I get it, right? I understand that for Twitter to have value in our business-GTD-obsessed society, it has to become a vehicle for advertising. That's all twitter is, really, when it comes down to it, is presence advertising. If it was a communication medium, as the hip kids insist, it would be done privately..
But I digress. I can hate on Twitter somewhere else and at some other time. And before you throw the yellow penalty flag of hypocrisy: Yes. I use Twitter. I like to chatter. I can't help it. I blog too. I get it. It's all about pressence marketing. If you want to know what I really feel, you'll have to read my diary, because this ain't it, and I ain't sharing.
It galls me when I see people getting upset about the government/their parents/their boss reading their Twitter feed. It's publishing people. Pushing that "Submit" button on a public posting puts you exactly in the same position as if you were shouting it out loud for the world to hear. Only Twitter is more dangerous, because, to strain the metaphor a bit, in Twitter's case, what you're shouting is archived, indexed, and put into a giant database around you. By default. Every time. No matter what your preference.
But I digress. This is not the post I set out to write. The post I set out to write was about this:

When you are producing your "content" as the kids say, be sure that your content is not supported by a photograph of a gerbil's giant balls. As is the case in this Leadership Blog about office blunders. Since the post is about blunders, at least there's a chance that the shot of the rodent's fantastically hairy nutsack is intentional, but we both know that its not.