You might have seen in Variety that Dana Vachon's Mergers & Acquisitions has been acquired by a film production company "in a deal worth high six figures." (Related: Our Emily Gould is in the bathroom right now, bringing up an amount of vomit in the high six liters.) You might also have noticed, as we did when we rolled out of bed this morning, that Mergers & Acquisitions, a book that we have been prattling about regularly, is being advertised on Gawker today. We have also found out you might also see some sort of sponsored contest here for it tomorrow. You might have some questions about advertising and editorial on Gawker. So might we!
We have no fucking clue what the ad sales team is doing. They don't tell us anything, ever, which is the right thing to do but can also make for some uncomfortable situations when something we've been mocking (or, in rare cases, praising) winds up on the side of the page next to the item. (This isn't uncommon elsewhere, of course—but you know, we think we're just so different. Oh, look, we aren't!)
Here's the dirty little non-secret about Gawker: Nobody knows what anyone else is doing. We sit here manically refreshing our browsers looking for something—anything—to write about that will help you make it through your workday and help us meet our post quota. Somewhere around us, idiots are blogging about cars or video games or some horrible thing like that. As happy as we would be to have some involvement with the business side of things, it is just not the case. Actually, we really wouldn't. For one thing, Gawker Ad Guy Chris Batty is so dismissive of the editorial team that he refers to us collectively as "Meat" (he refers to Choire as "meat manager"). He's actually kind of a dick.
So, duh. If you see Gawker obsess over a topic like Vachon, it's because a specific editor has a bizarre obsession with/personal friendship with/abiding hatred for the subject. Any advertising overlap is not only coincidental, it makes us all feel a little dirty. And you know what we do for a living: Imagine how dirty we feel already.