Direct Mail’s Warm Glow
My jaded heart recently skipped a beat when a truly cheesy self-mailer showed up in my mailbox. If there’s no column next month, folks, it’s because I’ve retired and am living off my investment in…uranium stocks.
Well, one very speculative uranium stock that currently trades for under $1 a share, that is.
This highly dubious pitch relies on a “retro” medium — mail — to plug what sure smells like a retro scam — uranium speculation. For its atavistic charm alone, I’m tempted to take a flier.
If I do, I’ll have some stiff competition for shares: The piece states, “This report is being sent to 4.9 million investors!” It’s nice to see there’s still a market for “Investors With More Dollars Than Sense” mailing lists.
Lord knows this is the solicitation for them. “I believe this will be the most profitable stock pick of my entire career,” hyperventilates the author. There’s only one problem: There’s no indication who this author is. Nobody is willing to take credit for passing along this magnificent tip.
But that’s being nitpicky. Let’s look at the facts — or at least the “facts” presented in this glossy little piece. “Nukes are coming back to life and uranium prices are soaring,” the mailing quotes Forbes magazine as saying. (Thankfully, it isn’t cluttered with anything as mundane as an issue date or article citation.)
Nukes? Eep! This piece was mailed before President Bush and Russian President Vladimir Putin began showing each other their teeth. Hey, it’s not me being alarmist: According to this little gem, “Combine natural disasters with the geopolitical instability we are witnessing in the terrorist-prone Middle East and Communist-inspired Venezuela, and you have a recipe for a never-ending energy crisis.”
No, you have a recipe for cowering under your bed. Which is where I’m writing this, in hopes that terrorist-prone New Zealanders (or whoever they were — it’s dark here and hard to see the copy) won’t find me. What a shame the writer didn’t go for the full Cold War thrill and hype the Slumbering Russian Bear or the Deadly Yellow Peril. Boogey boogey boogey!
Attempting to spoil the fun is a mouse-print disclaimer: “This four-page information package is for entertainment purposes only. Don’t rely on any information in it…” Aw, shucks. Entertainment purposes only? That’s what copywriters say about lucky lotto talismans, not radioactive isotopes.
But what is mouse type when one has eye-catching graphics? Take the zigzagging arrow which assumedly represents this stock’s fortunes. Would’ve been nice if this arrow actually showed some gains, but the endpoint is only marginally higher than the starting point. Or consider the image of an oil refinery going gangbusters, against which the following words are set: “‘Nuclear power is back and not a moment too soon,’ says Fortune magazine.”
Oh, well — petroleum, uranium, same difference, right? Now, where’s my checkbook?
W
For more of Richard H. Levey’s Loose Cannon columns, visit http://directmag.com/opinions-columnists/loosecannon/index.html.
