1999 was a good year--for stupid business ideas. Amazingly,
some found paying customers.
WE LOOKED LONG AND HARD for the most idiotic business ideas of the year.
Our finalists:
Incentive Media Finalthoughts.com Manila Exploration
Co. Micro/Future Revengeunlimited.com
Incentive Media As if you didn't feel bad enough about leaving Bowser behind while
you head off on vacation. It seems 40% of all pets go through separation
anxiety after a stay at the kennel. Not to worry: You can arrange to calm
the pooch when you return--and save your furniture from being the object
of your pet's pent-up anxiety--by playing selections from a $20 three-CD
pack called Pet Music, featuring Sunday in the Park, Natural Rhythms and
Peaceful Playground. We'd like to laugh, but who gets the last bark? According
to Incentive partner Andrew Borislow, 50,000 people have ordered the set
since the summer.
Finalthoughts.com. You've just buried Grandma. What a surprise to get home, check your
e-mail--and find a message from the old gal. Since November, 5,000 people
have deposited free e-mails addressed to loved ones, relatives and friends,
with the understanding that the messages will be sent off on the occasion
of the sender's death. For this to work, the sender has to have a designated
"guardian angel" who will notify Final Thoughts when the day comes. The
founders think they can make money by offering referral services for estate
planners, attorneys and funeral homes. But so far, only one investor and
no strategic service partners. Confesses Todd Michael Krim, who came up
with the idea after a nerve-racking flight to London, "Some VCs think it's
morbid."
Manila Exploration
Co. Never heard of the billions in government gold bullion looted by the
Japanese during World War II and buried 350 feet underground throughout
the Philippines? Just ask Norman Haynes--if you can get him to return your
call (he's in the jungle a lot). For $100,000 you can get an unspecified
share of the recovered gold. Haynes needs the dough for new equipment:
He has been working with a 1970s drilling rig for some time. How to find
those 200 alleged burial sites? No maps here, just the recollections of
an elderly Filipino who once helped the Japanese. His "vault location information
is less than exact," Haynes admits.
Micro/Future Ward off computer bugs with the Netwanga magic bag, which is filled
with "secret elements, charms, circuits and software code" (according to
the press release) and clips to a keyboard or network cable. (Actual contents:
a computer pendant with a tiny dagger, wires twisted into shapes, several
lines of code written on wax paper, and what looks like a small terra-cotta
cat's head.) So far 650 bags (at $13 a pop) have sold. Says company founder
Marie Louise Sarapata, "It's based on Haitian voodoo."
Revengeunlimited.com. If it's payback time for someone you know, this is your Web site. For
a mere $20 to $60, you can send a dozen dead roses to the lover who cheated
on you, a rotten fish to your opposite's divorce lawyer or melted chocolates
to a former spouse. Founded by Michael Baumgartner, who says, "I was married
to pure evil," the site receives 1,000 orders and 40,000 visitors a month.
Like the scorned woman who bought a pack of playing cards from Revengeunlimited.com
featuring male nudes and wrote the name and number of her ex on each one
before dropping them in the playground of a local school. "Hey," Baumgartner
says, "don't shoot the messenger."
