Estos son algunos puntos del Cluetrain Manifesto, que retoman la idea de las palabras electrónicas, tratadas en otra anotación, y nos recuerdan que en esta nueva era no debemos escribir (traducir) utilizando estilos ampulosos y huecos por dentro, sobre todo en el mundo de la empresa, a no ser que lo único que queramos sea oír el eco de nuestra voz. El estilo del Manifiesto es el típico del activista-geek, aunque merece la pena quedarse con la idea central.

Whether delivering information, opinions, perspectives, dissenting arguments or humorous asides, the human voice is typically open, natural, uncontrived.
Corporations do not speak in the same voice as these new networked conversations. To their intended online audiences, companies sound hollow, flat, literally inhuman.
In just a few more years, the current homogenized "voice" of business—the sound of mission statements and brochures—will seem as contrived and artificial as the language of the 18th century French court.
Already, companies that speak in the language of the pitch, the dog-and-pony show, are no longer speaking to anyone.
Getting a sense of humor does not mean putting some jokes on the corporate web site. Rather, it requires big values, a little humility, straight talk, and a genuine point of view.
Bombastic boasts—"We are positioned to become the preeminent provider of XYZ"—do not constitute a position.
By speaking in language that is distant, uninviting, arrogant, they build walls to keep markets at bay.
Smart markets will find suppliers who speak their own language.
The inflated self-important jargon you sling around—in the press, at your conferences—what's that got to do with us?
If you don't impress us, your investors are going to take a bath. Don't they understand this? If they did, they wouldn't let you talk that way.

¶ 8:53 a. m.