That painful, seemingly endless moment of uncomfortable silence which follows a publicist's telephone greeting to a new press contact is most often attributable to career's worth of frustrating experiences with irresponsible PR practitioners and novice publicists . Through the din of pause, you can almost hear the journalist's eyes rolling upward, before being squeezed off like a nagging pimple.
Some journalists are more graceful than others in blowing-off noodgy PR types.
Little is useful, much is indecipherable, most is misdirected and almost all mimic the same tired superlatives and hackneyed buzzwords as the one before. It's no wonder that most flackstuff rides the e-River Cocytus into PR purgatory before even receiving a casual glance. Then, multiply by six gazillion clueless neoflacks and suddenly, flackicide seems almost heroic. The industry's out of control. And getting worse.