Politicians and Police Officers are not the only victims of the media age. And why we can look with pity at good ‘ole boy Senators losing their rights to shout epitaphs at rallies and crime-fighting cops getting in trouble for tasing 13 year olds repeatedly, I must inform you: It gets worse. Today, in a time when every one’s a videographer, even killing Africans–the West’s perpetual those people–is becoming a tricky business. What would have once gotten them a wink, a nod, and an armaments shipment, has instead made Sudan something of a pariah (I stress something). Now, don’t worry, the images, though graphic, probably aren’t enough to compete with Keeping Up With The Kardashians and there’s a whole lot more squabbling to be done about handbags and semantics before we actually do something, but still, Sudan could find itself victim of a fate that has evaded previous butchers and madmen: The world may one day say stop. 
Thus it is imperative that Sudan rejoin the conversation. I need not tell them that their brand has taken a hit. And I’m no marketing person, though like all young people their pictures adorn my walls, but I do think there are certain common sense ways the Sudanese could employ the very tools which are now putting them in this mess. So here it goes: A few ways Sudan can connect with their audience, rebuild their brand, and tell their story.
- There must be at least some times in the day when your militias and soldiers aren’t slaughtering people; so snap a few photos, shoot a few videos. Get a soldier laughing against a tree or a militiaman making a funny face. Put them online for the world to see, saying, “look, were human beings too!”. This in the west is what we call “Transparency”.
- Tell us why you’re killing, who you’re killing, why they deserve it, why you’re critics are wrong, why they just don’t get you, and then tell it and re-tell and re-tell it. I’ve yet to see one thing, no matter how awful and repugnant, that can’t be made palatable by the Internet’s ability to seamlessly mix shit with truth. If you can make the ‘You’re all over-reacting’ meme go viral, you’ll have a die-hard community of support in less than a week.
- Let’s face it, you’ve lost the battle of the ‘G’ word. We’re all calling it genocide (pain in the ass, these eyes), but don’t run from it, own it. Is Genocide.com available? Join the genocide conversation! Participate, blog your experiences, go to meetups, etc. Believe me, you do this and there’s nothing you can’t get away with.
- Have an elevator pitch? Get one!
These are obviously just a few suggestions and, no doubt, there are people who know far more about this stuff than me. But, remember, there’s no more reality, just branding. No truth or right, it’s all just ‘part of the conversation’. Join in. Because there may come a time when we here actually want to do something about Darfur, but right now, it’s not too late to make it truly too late.
Have you considered Subscribing to all of this madness?
Here, in the beginning was the word. And the word said 'here' and here he was. He knew not why he was here (do any of us?), but he was here and there was nothing else here, only darkness--though lacking even the quantity called 'darkness'. And though there was not yet loneliness, terror, or cold; the being found himself terribly lonely and cold. Before the being could utter a magic word or a command, light raised up to the sky and illumination seeped onto the earth causing the being to smile for a moment, but then again he found himself crying because the light had only further lit up and revealed the full extent of nothingness.
The old men of the village had their eyes firmly focused on politics again. And the economy. And property values. And sports. But not their wives; their wives were safe at home now--safe and unlooked on. The candlelit dinners and music, the awkward dancing and even more awkward reading of poetry had stopped when the young men left. No need for it anymore. Yes, the old leaders of the village no longer had to watch their spouses like hawks--even though they sat at home all day, bored. So, though there was a war going on, the elders were all noticeably calmer than during peacetime and the council meeting had a relaxed air to it.
"Liberty Univer..." Mark stopped. It was the first time either of them had said that, the word "kill". Madison Square was completely dark now except for a few people at the enclosed dog-run. 
Kyle thought as he went for a better arrangement of the list. His structure still seemed off and taking it out of alphabetical order hadn't fixed the problem. He scribbled down on his notepad again: Homosexuals, blacks, Aisans, lesbians...
Both the young teenager and the old officer were terribly embarrassed as the Police cruiser careened through some of Wilson's earliest paved roads. 
There was nothing that crazy about the nickname; Americans are a practical, simple, right-to-the-point kind of people: And quite simply, practically, that's what it was good at. Well, of course, planes are, first and foremost, good at flying, but this one was particularly well suited for killing Arabs. It was untraceable on radar, could effectively dodge either a bullet or a missile--while it's own projectiles were effectively unstoppable, and so precise that, according to one Army pilot, they could take out a towelhead without disrupting a hair on his goat's ass (his words, not mine). This was the fear of God, or Allah, or whatever.
Summer in the city. The grid is lit up like a dirty grill, hot and red, caking on the filth and the remnants of last night's meat. It's the weekend, but who cares, we have places to go, the atoms say, stretching apart, thrown together, brushing up against eachother's agendas. A week ago, a crane fell and killed two and we stood on the cool breezy street, talking and complaining to absolute strangers, calling for Mike's resignation, for action, for bureaucratic blood. Now the papers report that a crane operator had been bribed and, so long as the AC works, let's bribe him some more and move, move, keep moving, the city is swell, though it feels like hell.
Don’t let Loic see this, he might flip at your giving Sudan his slogan… LOL!
Anyway, you’re right on the bullshit front, but you’re forgetting the truth about the most vocal people on the internet; the people who get the most support and attention are the dirty, compassionate hippies who are out to save the world, one starving african orphan at a time. The people who look at profit-margins and people-killing as a good thing tend to be viewed with more than a little disdain on the interwebs.