Launch Party: Philebrity Handicaps The Start-ups
Ah, yes ‚Äî a new year is upon us, and with it, the rampant self-delusion of the young media enterpreneur who thinks he’s cracked the code on how to get this dirty old town a-buzzin’. What’s that? You say you didn’t even notice it was launch season? Oh, child, but it is. And we’ve noticed. So welcome to the inaugural edition of what we hope is not a too-frequent feature here on the Philebs: Launch Party, dedicated to dissecting the hopes of those who dare to tread where, really, too many have gone before, down in that bracken pond that is Philly media.
After the jump: A new mag for the Main Line, a monstrous mess anglin’ for Philly2night’s territory and a total friggin’ mess that aims to set the town ablaze with a decidedly zoological brand. We kid you not.
Name: Hot Kangaroo Pie
Type of publication: Website, “Urban Lifestyle Philadelphia”
Taget audience: People too stupid for any of the other city guides out there, or, for that matter, oxygen.
Assessment: Everything about this website, from the Dirty Sanchez/Cleveland Steamer-ish name to the Perry Milou paintings to the coverage of crapass Northeast Philly bands, suggests a kind of ambition apparently uninhibited by cluelessness. The design’s a mess, nobody can figure out what the fuck it is, and already, I want to beat the living shit out of that stupid kangaroo. (I know what you’re thinking: “But nothing says Philly like a KANGAROO!”) But no, a thousand times no, I say. Make it stop before this thing tries to pour a roofied test-tube shot down my throat. On second thought, make it stop right after that. I want to forget. I want to be clean.
Chances of survival: You tell me. This thing makes PhillyEdge look like Harper’s.
———-
Name: HeyPhilly.com
Type of publication: Website, powered by AroundPhilly.com, clearly aiming to take a bite of the Philly2Night audience of girls who speak through their noses and the men who settle for them.
Taget audience: John Bolaris? No, wait, he moved away. Rather, a rainbow coalition of post-grad fratboys, butterfaces, cubicle jockeys and harpies.
Assessment: This thing is a hot mess directed at people who personalize their MySpace pages with rotating emoticons and a saucy picture that might make people think they’d be down with a threeway, but seriously, as if. On a whole host of levels. Never. Also employs the totally annoying tactic of making you sign up to look at the slideshows of people whom you’d never sleep with in a million years. Look: If SocialPhilly doesn’t want my email in return for gaping at desperate new-gen guidos and disco bunnies, why the fuck should I give it to you?
Chances of survival: Pretty good, given the AroundPhilly ad push, so at least we have another site to make fun of on slow news days now. Always looking for the silver lining, that Philebrity. Please God, let this site start up a messageboard. It’d be a Christmas miracle.
———-
Name: MAINLINE Magazine
Type of publication: Print magazine, launches in January
Taget audience: Scant info is available right now ‚Äî not even a placeholder website at this point, which is, um, always a good sign ‚Äî but we’re gonna make a bold guess and say that this is going after the Main Line market not already served by PhillyMag, Philly Style, the Inquirer, whatever that dumb Ted Beichtman magazine is called now, The Main Line Times, Main Line Today and like 500 other failed magazines since the ’80s.
Assessment: From their publicist: “MAINLINE Magazine is a bi-monthly art, culture and lifestyle magazine that celebrates the art of fine living on Philadelphia’s famed Main Line.” As revolutionary as this idea is, we worry for MainLine, sight unseen. On one hand, it’s gonna be hard to topple PhillyMag’s death grip (and we do mean death grip) on the R5 line, and on the other, time and again, it’s been shown that you can succeed in this game for a time simply by knocking on the doors of plastic surgeons and the like, so long as you remember to publish photos of them socializing.
Chances of survival: For once, you Main Line rich bitches have your work cut out for you. Chances not good. They never are. But that doesn’t stop you, does it? You crazy kids. Have at it.
December 13th, 2006 at 12:58 pm
Someone needs to start a magazine dedicated the various and far ranging talents of the city’s slept on (and stepped over) various homeless denizens.
More talent and creativity in that totally avant garde vagrant’s little pinkie toe (before it was removed due to gangrene) then the whole loft district* combined.
Imagine: Flash enabled photo shideshow of karaoke night at the soup kitchen.
Imagine: Midnight ghost story telling sessions at the shelter.
*Jayson Musson excluded because he completely opened my eyes as to why black people in general are funny on so many more levels then me.
p.s.- I am one of the guys who winks at the homeless as I pass to let them know I’m one of the “good ones”.
December 13th, 2006 at 2:15 pm
this is sorta related and also sort of offtopic re: “the city’s slept on (and stepped over):
was hanging out at the Las Vegas Lounge a couple of days ago and went outside for a smoke (they only allow smoking once the city’s point man for enforcement goes off-duty at 5 pm(? or thereabouts).
Anyway, while smoking a gentleman noticed my “rankish” appearance and handed me a $5 bill (XMas spirit). Said thanks and went inside to finish my pint and enjoy another one due to my new found wealth. When I took it out of my wallet noticed it was actually a $20.
With the remainder was able to check out JohnnyBrendas for the first time. Upstairs space was closed. Nice bar but no lager on tap. Very surprising though did find the *cheapest* pints ($1.25 or $1.5, don’t remember) on tap so far in this city at a small bar a block or so away named (deleted)
sorry philebrity, that for my next “food critic at large” entree ;-)
December 13th, 2006 at 2:50 pm
This is the second list-esque post in three weeks, and again, it had me laughing out loud. Bring on the lists,
my friends. They always bring out the comments.
Here’s an idea: Let’s popularize Hot Kangaroo Pie in that way where when you first start saying it, it’s a joke, and then three weeks later it’s actually part of the vernacular.
Example: You see a group of beautiful girls in a bar and you say, “Damn, bra. There’s some hot kangaroo pie up in this bitch.”