The One Where Joe Berates his Readership

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It’s been a heady couple of weeks for the Resch Strategies blog. In recent posts, my colleagues have tackled delicate subjects with aplomb, delivering powerful, insightful, and—at times—intensely personal prose evoking strong feelings and deep reflection.

This will not be one of those blogs.

I’m back, which means a return to the aimless. The pointless. The barely witty.


As some of you may remember, I promised this installment would be devoted to reviewing the results of the survey I asked you to complete in my last post—a request I thought my readers would happily oblige given its simple, almost effortless quality. I deserve that much, right? Surely my readers understand their complicity is a small toll to pay given the obscene and—let’s be honest, obvious—amount of blood, sweat, and tears I pour into the FREE content I produce for their amusement.

Boy, was I ever wrong.  

This blog was supposed to be a celebration. An ode to my captivating brilliance and a nod to dozens, dare I say, hundreds smart enough to recognize it. It was going to be a party. For all of us. Sure, most of the adulation would have gone to me, but there would have been a little bit for my readers as well. And I would have meant it. And it would have been good. Damn good.

That blog will never be written – none of you deserve it. Now let’s dive right in to why that’s the case, shall we?

Question 1: Do you generally enjoy reading Joe’s Resch Strategies blog posts?

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Off to a great start! Better than I expected, to be honest. I mean, I know my stuff is amazing. But batting a thousand is incredible. No one does that. Except me apparently.

Question 2: Of Joe’s 10 previous blog posts, how many have you read?

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This is exactly what I was hoping to see: empirical confirmation that I’m captivating, that I resonate, AND that my audience is growing. Those people in the 1–3 bucket are clearly new readers, and I have every reason to believe they’re now hooked for life on all things Joe.

Question 3: Do you enjoy when Joe’s blog posts focus on offering professional advice?

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More great news! I don’t particularly want to write about work either, guys. I’m glad we’re on the same page here.

Question 4: Do you enjoy when Joe blogs about his personal life?

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No surprise here – I’m fascinating.

Question 5: Which do you prefer?

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Me too! It’s unanimous, people. 

Question 6: Which Joe Blog entry did you most enjoy?

The runaway winner, with over 44 percent of vote, is The Joys of Building a Bookshelf: A Lesson in Spin and I’m not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, I put some extra time and effort into this one and it feels good to see that recognized. On the other hand, this blog is essentially the play-by-play on quite possibly the worst 60–day stretch of my life. (Yes, I’m serious— I’ve led an absurdly privileged life.)  Interesting, very interesting, guys. I feel like I’m just now starting to suss out the true character of my audience.

Question 7: Which Joe Blog entry did you least enjoy?

We have a tie! But only in the mathematical sense. Those that selected Are you texting your audience? If not, maybe you should be chose well—that one is boring. (Comparatively speaking of course—all my material is clearly tremendous.) Those critical of my completely original, paradigm-shattering analysis of the Rocky franchise—you’re wrong, you’re dead to me, and your opinions are being scrubbed from the official record.

There. No more tie.

Question 8: Would you pay $14.95 for this t-shirt?

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Ah now on to the important stuff, namely, what kind of opportunity exists to financially exploit my readers. And much to my liking, it looks like there may be a little bit of money to be made here.

Question 9: How about $19.95 for this one?

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We see much the same here despite the price uptick. Just like other common necessities like food, water, and gasoline, the demand for all these Joe is relatively inelastic, which makes a lot of sense when you think about it—there’s just no substitute for me.

And to the sizable cohort unwilling to bite on either of these products, I say this: I respect your savvy. Those are absurd prices to pay for what would most certainly be a t-shirt of the lowest quality. You clearly recognize I’m all about profit margins. You’re perceptive. I like that.

So why am I so angry? On the surface, these results suggest I’m not only well-liked but also sitting on a potentially lucrative t-shirt enterprise. What’s not to like?

I’ll tell you what.


Nine people took 30 seconds out of there day to do Joe a favor. That’s it. NINE.

Thank you to the nine. I appreciate your thoughtful input, and I will come up with some way to reward and distinguish you. A commemorative lapel pin, perhaps?

And to the hundreds that let me down: you’re vultures—every last one of you. Know that. And know I’ll never forgive your selfishness. Unless of course you do ONE thing.

There is a path to redemption here, and it’s any easy one. As you may remember, there was a 10th question in my survey where I asked my readers to leave my questions they’d like me to answer, my promise being that if enough questions were submitted, I would devote a future blog post to answering them.

Clearly, we have not yet hit that threshold, and now the burden is on you.

I want Joe’s mailbag to happen, and I need your help to make that happen. So, quit being a bunch of worthless ingrates and click here to leave me a question.