Saturday, December 22
Oh...
You feel your brain's been locked up tight
Writing good code at only at night
Waiting for a job
To challenge you
You're cracking your knuckles, trying to code my way
But that don't mean I'll hire you right away
Laddy, Laddy, Laddy
(Lady, Lady, Lady?)
Yo yo...
Your mouth's saying hire me
Oh woe...
But my brain's saying let's see C
If you wanna work for me, laddy
There's a price you pay
I'm a stickler for design
You gotta write code the right way
If you want an ADA
I can make your wish come true
You gotta make a big impression
I gotta like what you do
I'm a stickler for design, laddy
Gotta write code the right way, money
I'm a stickler for design, laddy
Add, add, add, and then cut out
The iPhone's coming and AAPL's so not low
One more release of Library to go
Waiting for someone
Who impresses me
Fingers racing at the speed of light
And not just because I'm in a Twitter fight
Laddy, Laddy, Laddy
(Lady, Lady, Lady?)
Yo yo...
I only have one engineer to go
Oh woe...
But I'm still going to hire slow
If you wanna work for me
And then Apple someday
I'm a stickler for design
You gotta write code the right way
If you want to get low pay
I can make your wish come true
Send me sample code, laddy
And maybe I'll hire you
I'm a stickler for design, laddy
Gotta write code the right way, money
I'm a stickler for design, laddy
Send, send, send your sample out
Labels: business, humor?, mac community
Sunday, November 18
Who doesn't love sequels? Certainly no red-blooded American. But, sadly, some movies never get sequels. Why? And what can we do about it?
I think the only thing to do is for us to show truth to power, and point out these omissions. Maybe we can inspire some Hollywood hack who has lost his way. If even one sequel gets made that would have otherwise been an original idea, wouldn't it be worth it?
So, here's my list of sequels I need to see:
- Independence Day 2: Oh Crap The Aliens Closed Their Firewall
- I Also Robot, How You?
- Lake Shmonsequence
- The List Schindler Kept In His Other Pants
- Fight Club 2: Helena Bonham-Carter Was Also Just in His Head
- Vertigo 2: Carsick
- American History XI
- Three Kill a Mockingbird
- Spider-Man 3: For Real This Time
- Faster and Dumber or Dumb and Furious (mash-up)
- Memento 2: More Super-Depressing Backward Stuff
- A.I. 2: We Are Not Aliens We Are Super-Advanced Robots Read the Title Fucking Duh
- The Treasure of the Sierra Madre 2: We Still Do Not Require Any Form of Identification
- The Piano 2: More of That Guy's Penis
- Triple Indemnity
- The Santa Clause 3: Now You Have To, Let's Say... Jump Up and Down
- Reservoir Puppies (prequel)
- The Sting 2: We Swear There Is No Twist Ending LOL
- Braveheart 2: It's Different When You Know He's Crazy
- Blade Runner 2: Just Kidding It's Really Just Another Cut of Blade Runner
- W for Wowiamangry
- Shrek 2 Oh Wait There Was a Shrek 2
- Shrek 3 Also, I Guess, I Did Not See It
- It Happened Again on a Different Night
- The Conversation 2: Not That Crappy Movie with Will Smith That Was a Pretend Sequel
- Garfield 3: 2 in the Head, 1 in the Chest
- North by Northwest 2: If You See the Dairy Queen You've Gone Too Far
- The Oranges of Anger
- The Lion King 2: If I'm Lion I'm Dyin'
- Big Fish 2: Now MY Son has Grown Up and He Hates ME for Being a Big Liar
- Dial L for Larceny (prequel)
- Rosemary's Second Child Who Didn't Get as Many Photos Taken of Her
- Pirates of the Caribbean 4: Actually We Just Explain the Previous Two Films
- Taxi Driver 2: Crazy Taxi (in conjunction with Sega)
- Serpents on a Submarine or Boas on a Boat or Rattlesnakes on a Railroad or Cottonmouths in a Car (pick only one)
- Glad I Ate Him
- Blazing Saddles 2: Chapped Asses
- The Princess Bride 2: Hollywood is Full of Whores
- Sex and the City: We Really Aren't Very Sexy Any More, To Be Honest
- The Gun Just Below That Top One
- M.A.S.H. 2: Apparently Some People Have Forgotten That War Is Bad
- E.E.T.: An Extra Extra-Terrestrial
- Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind: We're Boning Aliens
- Deliverance 2: There's a Lot of Nerves Back There, It Can Feel Kind of Nice
- A Streetcar Named Desire 2: A Lamppost Named Phyllis
Labels: humor?
Friday, September 21
Well, now, Mrs. Ross, I understand you have some concerns about our latest bill, so daddy's sent me over to talk about it with you. I'll be straight with you from the start: I don't know what half of this stuff is, either, but, heck, we'll muddle through it together, OK?
Yes, ok, I can see how you'd be upset that we said it'd cost $5,000 to fix your shower and now we've billed you for $5,000,000. No, I don't know where you're going to get that kind of money... uh, can you, like, mortgage your house, or something? That's a thing, isn't it? Mortgage? Funny sounding word. Mort-gage. Mortgage.
What? Oh, sorry. No, you really do have to pay it, I'm sorry, Mrs. Ross. Well, no, that's fair, we didn't actually fix your shower at all. Actually, we decided to start with the toilet, which is where we've concentrated most of our efforts for the last few years or so. No, no, I understand you thinking that was a mistake, especially in light of the fact that it turns out there was nothing wrong with the toilet, and you really wanted that shower fixed. But we didn't know that, going in! We had a gut feeling the shower and toilet shared the same bad plumbing! Yes, I know they are in different bathrooms, but the bathrooms sure look a lot the same, don't they? Didn't you find that a LITTLE suspicious? It's a logical conclusion. Sometimes you just know things, despite what people tell you, and you just have to take a leap. Ok, sure, yes, a $5,000,000 leap.
Yes, I suppose your grandkids
will be paying for this shower until they're your age. Sometimes life works that way. Actually, it's not really the shower they'll be paying for, remember -- we decided not to work on the shower. It's the toilet that we're billing you for. Ok, fair, that's not fixed, either -- we kind of took it apart and, I'll be honest, we realized we're not plumbers. We have no idea how to put it back together. Man we feel really bad about that. That there is really where a lot of your expense comes from -- I mean, if we'd just taken it apart and put it together in a month, you can see how our bill would have been a lot smaller, huh? But it's been, what, years now? I gotta tell you, we feel as terrible about this as you do. It's been really hard on the boys. Well, not the boys in accounting, but the boys actually doing the work. Well, also not our suppliers. They're pretty happy, I gotta admit.
I know I threw that party for my boys and said we were "done" years ago... but that really needs to be put into context, you see. When I said "done" I meant "done with the hard part," which was convincing you to let us tear up your bathroom. I mean, we knew once we got in there wasn't going to be any finishing for years. No, in retrospect, I guess I could have been clearer about that. But that's ancient history, now. I mean, you've got a new toilet to look forward to, someday! Right, and a shower, if we get to it.
And of course, there was the damage to the area around the toilet caused by old Jim Blackwater. Oh, yah, I totally agree, I'm not even gonna argue -- he is one creepy dude. I'll give you that. I'm not gonna pull yer leg, Mrs. Ross -- he's not really a contractor. No license, no nothing. He's just a drifter who really likes tools, but he was too kooky to ever get a license. But, you know, recently we've been a bit short on men, so we thought, hey, he has his own hammer, and chances are good that at least SOME of the things he'll hit with it will be nails, so, why the heck not? I mean, it's not
our money we're spending, so you can see our thought process, right? Look, I'm real sorry if he's been givin' your daughter the creepy eye, but to be fair you gotta admit she shows a lot of leg for a 15-year-old.
You gotta unnerstand, we could have read some book on fixing toilets and just gotten the tools and put in the time and acted like them pointy-headed city wonk plumbers do. But we're from Texas, and we do things a little differently there; we shoot from the hip. We don't like them fancy college boys tellin' us they know what to do just because they got book learnin' and experience and all that. Well, ok, fair, I
did go to college too, but I didn't go to class, so I don't think it counts against me.
But, look, Mrs. Ross, try to see the bright side: I think we're making real progress, finally. No, I mean, with the toilet situation. We haven't had any progress on the shower, no; I keep explaining that we decided to do the toilet first. Yes, ok, fine, it wasn't broken, but it
could have been, and it
is now, so I think we should just keep doing the exact same thing we've been doing until it suddenly starts working.
Also, while I have you here, we've identified some problems with your sink now that the plumbing around the toilet is all dug up, and the boys are real eager to have a crack at
that. Heck, we're probably gonna have to hire some more apprentices! Look, don't worry about the cost, yet -- those aren't final totals.
Labels: humor?, politics
Friday, August 17
I've decided it is time to get a new arch-nemesis. Sure, I have an old one, but, honestly, he's not really doing the job -- I picked him up in the heady '90s, and while initially he was very active, recently he's pretty much dropped out of sight. Frankly, this just makes me look bad.
I called up the The Guild of Calamitous Intent ("the recognized leader in organized havoc") and asked to be assigned a new nemesis, and after going through like a billion phone options ("...press 3 if you have forgotten the name of your nemesis...") I got to talk to some evil dude for like two hours before I could convince him that even though I technically
had a nemesis he had gone inactive and I wanted a new one.
There are a bunch of boring forms, then you wait a while, and then, finally, you get a package in the mail. So, today, it finally arrived, and I'm pleased to announce that, in fact, the Guild has exceeded my hopes: I've been assigned
Cabel Sasser!
The guild lists these qualifications for his arch-nemesis status:
- Goes to the same events as I do, but gives better presentations than me,
- Wins enough design awards to give me a run for my money,
- Funnier blog,
- Singing talent much more impressive than my nice shirts,
- He has the exclusive license to sell katamari t-shirts in the U.S. I don't know if I'd like to sell them or not, but, you know, it'd be nice to have the option. Nobody even asked me.
- Apparently *cough* as talented with the ladies *cough* if you get my drift. Like, in bed. If you can see where I'm going. Sex. (-Wink!-)
All-in-all, I couldn't have asked for a better choice! Hopefully Cabel's already received his welcome packet and is preparing nefarious deeds against me as I type this -- I know I am!
Labels: humor?, mac community
Thursday, August 2
I know you're all chomping at the bit or champing at the bitte or biting and chomping or some such for me to post some more code, but, honestly, I'm not allowed to post Objective-C 2.0 code here (I asked) and I don't really use Objective-C 1.stinky any more, so... tough it out a little while longer. I've got something great in the cooker, just waiting for Leopard's release and my ungagging.
Meanwhile, in the spirit of stock market crooks everywhere, I thought I'd post some Apple news that I'm privy to that has nothing to do with me wanting to buy more stock at a falsely deflated price.
1) Apple has decided that cell phones "are for losers" and won't make any more after Thursday. I have it first-hand that they've called their suppliers and told them, "good luck, suckers."
2) Apple is also completely abandoning their computer business, in a bizarre turn. My friends on the inside said, "Look, Steve gets bored easily."
3) Basically, Apple is going to fold into itself and die. So, please, please, SELL SELL SELL that stock. Come on, be good little sheep, daddy needs a new Tesla. Seriously, you can trust me, because there's NO POSSIBLE WAY I could profit from Apple's stock price going down, unless I were to something incredibly complicated like buy it when it's low and then sell it when it bounces back again.
Labels: business, humor?, mac community
Sunday, July 1
So, after trying for two years, I finally was able to bid enough at the
Child's Play Charity Auction that I got a guest appearance in
Penny Arcade, which is of course my favorite comic (barring the return of Sam and/or Max to strip form).
Being that I am a giant whore for publicity, this is the crowing achievement of my life. Well, this an getting an iPhone. Really, it's been My Week.
I. Have. Made. It.
The irony is that Tycho and Gabe wrote today's strip(s) before they knew they'd actually be standing in line with me -- originally the local Apple Store had a list of business customers who could have some iPhones set aside for them, and I offered Gabe one of mine allotment when he put out the call to his Blue Blaze Irregulars. Corporate put the kibosh on that plan, so we all just merrily waited in line like everyone else, except everyone else didn't have a big jug of gin and tonic, nor
the world's worst photo of them on the front page of their local newspapers the next day. (On the plus side, I was later interviewed by a really hot newslady from Channel 7.)
Hopefully, Steve has a sense of humor -- otherwise, I guess I'll be applying for a job at Penny Arcade in a few months when Apple crushes me out of existence. I figure, they'll owe me.
-W
Labels: humor?, mac community
Wednesday, June 27
Ignore those
pretenders, who are simply grasping at fame and acclaim with their assertions that they've got the scoop. You know who has the real contacts, the real info, the real dirt -- and that who's name isn't Suzy-Loo.
It's me... is what I'm getting at.
Look, I talked to Apple's top, TOP brass at WWDC, and while, you know, they couldn't come right out and SAY what's happening with Leopard, well, let's just say they said ENOUGH. Enough so I could piece together this very detailed roadmap of Leopard's development:
July:- A handful of new features will be added -- ones that didn't make it the WWDC beta, but were clearly needed. Not many! (It's too close to release.)
- Bugs will be squashed -- 'regression' bugs will be given special priority.
- Performance will continue to be improved.
- Special emphasis will be placed on not introducing any new bugs at this stage.
- If a build seems particularly solid, we may see an interim beta released for developers.
August:- Only a couple of new features will be added -- ones that didn't make it in July, but are absolutely needed. The number will be extremely limited.
- More bugs will be fixed -- most attention will be given to things that used to work in Tiger, but don't any more.
- Even more performance tuning!
- "No new bugs" will be the goal.
- Depending on conditions, Apple may release a beta just to developers, to test against.
September:- The smallest possible number of new features will be added -- only ones that didn't make it in August, but are totally necessary. These will require special approval!
- Bugs fixing will be at a feverish pace -- especially bugs introduced in Leopard!
- The system will see speedups throughout, BUT...
- It will be unacceptable to introduce any regressions at this point.
- Developers may get a beta during September, if the build seems very solid, and Apple wants to verify it.
October:- Leopard!
- Unless it's delayed, in which case my sources say it'll come out later.
--
Hopefully I don't get my friends at Apple in trouble with this incredibly detailed peek inside their software process! Hopefully if I've revealed too much, my friends at Apple Legal will send me a cease and desist and I'll get even MORE PUBLICITY FOR MY SITE.
Labels: humor?, mac community
Friday, June 1
While many people believe that Adobe products are DRM-free, did you know that they, in fact, have a
"poison tip?"It's true... when you buy an Adobe product, be it Illustrator or the entire Creative Suite, Adobe brazenly stores important personal information about you
right on your hard disk. If you don't believe me, look on your machine at
file:///Library/Application%20Support/Adobe/Adobe%20Registration%20Database ... you'll see entries like this:
EPIC_ORG=Delicious Monster Software, LLC
EPIC_NAME=Wil ShipleyI was shocked! Shocked! They didn't even bother to try to disguise it!
I talked to a lawyer from EFF about this, and his comment was, "We feel it is a huge invasion of a consumer's privacy for Adobe to take personal information the user has entered and store it locally on that user's machine, in a file only accessible to the user, right beside all the user's other personal files, where it is protected by passwords and firewalls."
I couldn't agree more, so I called an Adobe PR person, who spoke to me ONLY on the condition that, "if [she] answered my questions I would get off the phone and let [her] do real work."
I put it to her directly: "Are you saying that I am limited to using Adobe products on my machines, and if I illegally give post my copy of CS3 on the internet,
I might be sharing my first and last name with the world in addition to violating copyright law and being liable for $50,000 in damages? Because I find this simply unacceptable."
The Adobe flak, in typical PR-speak, tried to spin the story this way: "Well... yah. I mean, uh, duh?"
--
I will be following this story closely in the following days... I've already heard a rumor that in order to pirate DRM-free iTunes Plus tracks I might have to downsample them to MP3 files, but I simply can't believe Apple would engage in such clearly immoral shenanigans. I mean, making it every-so-slightly difficult to pirate DRM-free music kind of defeats the WHOLE PURPOSE of dropping DRM in the first place, doesn't it?
DOESN'T IT?
Labels: humor?, mac community
Monday, May 28
More than any machine, the original iMac can be said to have single-handedly turned Apple's fortunes around -- making once-'beleaguered' Apple Computer simple, cool, and fun again. Besides bringing Apple much-needed mindshare, the iMac brought in scads of cash for Apple before the iPod was even a glimmer in Ives' eyes.
Thus, it would shock many to hear that Apple is, in fact, planning to retire the iMac this year.
Of course, they're not. That would be stupid. Still, I bet I could get a ton of other rumor sites to pick this up as "news" if I kept going with it.
Labels: humor?, mac community
Thursday, March 29
Gabe from
Penny Arcade was nice enough to post the
original artwork for a
recent strip, which I took as a sign that they wanted their faithful fans to post remixes.
If not, well, uh, sorry.
--
Also, as a bonus, here's a
Time Friends fan strip I did. I think Kris' idea for a comic generator was pure genius, but he's redone his site and now none of the strips or the generator are up any more.
--
Update: Straub and Kurtz have posted
THREE make-your-own-comics on their halfpixel.com now, including a new "Bad Cop, Ineffectual Cop" one, at which I took a couple stabs:
Labels: humor?
Sunday, March 18
| William, | "Wil." |
| I would like to introduce myself and our company to you. | "Our company?" Do you *also* have a frog in your pocket? Mine's name is Sir Jumpy! |
We provide customized software systems to businesses like yours that allow you to control your brand more efficiently and disseminate your materials instantly. | Businesses like mine? Exactly which businesses are like mine? Are there other monster-themed-independent-Mac-software-companies who are having trouble getting their brand in line and/or disseminating their materials? Also, why does that latter sound kind of naughty? Look, where and when I choose to disseminate is my business.
And can't I already disseminate materials instantly? I feel like I can. I've got this blog, I've got AdWords, I've got press releases going to major Mac sites... yup, seems like I'm rocking this "instant" thing. | | Our system handles all mediums from print to broadcast and everything in between. | I would assume that the word "from" in the phrase "from this to that" pretty much automatically connotes "everything in between." I mean, if someone asked you to recite the alphabet from a to z, you wouldn't say, "a, z" and be done, would you?
And how would I know if a particular medium is "in between" print and broadcasting, or is before print or after broadcasting, and thus is NOT included in your system. Would it have been so hard to just enumerate the media you handle? There really can't be that many. Plus, you've got the source code to your customized software, so you could, like, just copy and paste the list of media from the release notes or something. |
| By doing so, you will realize immediate savings that can free up even more money for your marketing efforts. | I'm going to save money that I can then spend on the same activity? I have another idea -- why don't I start eating less so I can eat more?
And where exactly is this savings going to come from? Are you saying that I'm going to be able to fire my immense marketing department? "Look, guys, thanks for everything... I know it hasn't been easy for you... disseminating my materials, night and day... and you guys have tried, I know that. But there's this guy on the internet who says he can do it instantly. And, let's face it, I think we all know that recently our brand has been a little... well, out of control. I mean, c'mon, Bob, remember when you branded that sorority girl? Seriously, what were you thinking? You're lucky she was black-out drunk, or we would have been facing a hellacious lawsuit." |
| If you could spare 30 minutes, I would appreciate the opportunity to meet you and show you just how powerful our system is and how it can help your company in so many ways relating to marketing. | If I could spare 30 minutes, I wouldn't own my own company. Seriously, I think you're going to have to be more specific on this custom software and what it does -- I mean, BESIDES dissemination and/or brand control, sure, I understand THAT perfectly. |
| I've not seen one person feel this is a waste of time yet, | You can see feelings? |
| but rather literally be blown away with our system. | Literally blown away? Really? You sure you're using "literally" correctly, here? Because, I've gotta be honest with you, this doesn't sound that inviting to me. |
| I look forward to hearing from you, thank you in advance for your time! | Well, now you've heard, and you're welcome. |
Labels: business, humor?
Monday, March 12
I haven't spoken about the sessions at TED, and I'm worried that newcomers may think that TED is just a circle-jerk of stars and hangers-on drinking themselves into oblivion. In fact, the majority of TED is the
three, five, and eighteen minute talks given by people from all walks of life.
Imagine what university would be like for the smartest, busiest people in the world. You'd invite the brightest minds in every field, and add in some of the keenest voices for change and revolution, and then mix in some of the best entertainers to remind us that the goal, after all, is
the pursuit of happiness.
These talks have literally changed my life. That's a cliché, I apologize and will try to expound: they have changed the way I live every day. They changed the way I think about the world. They have changed where I spend my money. They have changed how I interact with people.
Primarily, as a writer, I'm a satirist -- but if I were to write about the talks, basically what I'd be saying is, "Wow, this one was good. Wow, this one too. Wow, also this one." That's pretty boring, and there are a lot of people out there who actually can write about the content without it being boring, so I'm leaving it to them.
I'm also leaving it to you: for the first time, this past year TED has started making every talk they can
available online. I urge, nay
beg, you to download a couple to your iPod or computer and watch them. I've tried watching them on a TV and it kind of doesn't work, but as soon as I had a bunch on my iPod I found them incredibly engrossing. On the flight down I watched five talks from the year before I first went to TED (2004), and I was literally gasping and laughing right there in my seat, with everyone around me thinking I was a crazy person.
If you would like a safe starting point (and let me emphasize I'm not saying these are the best talks, they are just the ones I really enjoyed most recently) check out
Malcom Gladwell talking about spaghetti sauce; this is one of those mythical talks where he manages to weave a compelling story that is actually teaching an incredibly important lesson, and then check out
Steven Levitt, the whitest gangsta in America, with his talk "Is Thug Life a Happy Life?" about the real economics of actually being in a crack-slinging gang; if nothing else, you will learn the important business concepts of "we be all fucked" and "weak and shit" (I kid you not).
Look, I'll be honest, some of these talks are extremely technical, and some are kind of hokey, and some are downright boring. Whenever you try something new, you fail some of the time; it's the definition of learning, and TED is a conference trying to teach itself how to change the world. Don't let the bad ones discourage you, just skip to another -- there's no test. If everyone in the world watched just one of these talks to the end, I think we'd have a much, much better chance at making it to 2100. For realz.
--
I had a complete blast at the "TEDGrand Party" on the final night (at TED everything starts "TED...", Lest We Forget). I know I keep mentioning Matt Groening, and probably a lot of you are thinking, "Geez, give it up, we know, you got to talk to him, that's great, you're special, now shut up." But, seriously, I basically adopted him as my new father (note to real dad: sorry about that, I'll always remember you fondly, it's me, not you), so when I mention him it's no longer to show off, it's because I basically followed him around like a baby duckling (is there any other kind?) and so most of my stories involve him in one way or another, whether it's introducing me to fascinating people, gently correcting me when I say something really offensive, or regurgitating partially-digested fish down my throat when I was hungry. Also, occasionally exclaiming, "Seriously, Wil, I'm dropping a deuce here, can I get some privacy?"
I talked with Jeff Bezos and Matt and David Pogue (separately) a bit about blogging vs. journalism and the right to report my life vs. invading the private lives of public figures, and I'm trying really hard to edit my stories so that nobody is embarrassed by them. I mean, I think pretty much everything I say reflects well on the people involved, but if you're famous or you're a famous person's PR person, and I've told a story that you would rather not have associated with you (or your client), please write me and I'll delete it. And if you're reading this, I apologize, but there are stories and details that are missing.
--
That said, I totally boned Cameron Diaz at the... no, no, sorry, that's a lie. I never got closer than five feet from her. In all this meeting of celebrities and famous people, I think I've learned some interesting rules, which I will pass on to you for absolutely free.
The problem with meeting celebrities is that a few bad apples spoil it for everyone -- it only takes one or two guys (out of a crowd of several hundred) to go up to a famous gal and start monopolizing her time and/or saying inappropriate things, and then that celebrity just naturally becomes gun-shy of meeting any new people.
The other thing celebrities deal with is feeling alone in a crowd -- lots of people will never approach celebrities but are curious about them, so wherever the celebrity goes there will be a ring of ten to twenty people standing twenty feet away from her, who are not looking directly at her but are just kind of glancing and then looking away and then smiling at each other. Subtle! The problem is, when you have a forty-foot-diameter ring of people around you at all times, you kind of figure out what they're getting at, even if they don't stare directly at you (imagine Saturn going "Oh, are those rings orbiting
me?"). So, you feel like the center attraction at the zoo ("Wait, wait, I think I just saw her sneeze! Oh, look! She's wiping her little nose!"), and simultaneously feel incredibly alone. (I'm projecting my feelings onto the people I saw, here, but I think I'm right.)
I am, in this regard, REALLY glad I'm not that famous.
Now it would be incredibly pompous of me to tell you what
all celebrities want... I mean, even more pompous than I actually
am. But, here's what I think is best, based on my interactions with my (self-described) "fans" and based on my interactions with real celebrities.
- Don't come up to the famous person only to say, "I love you" unless you're going to disappear immediately after that. There's really nothing worse than having somebody walk up to you and say, "OMG YOU ARE SO GREAT" and then just sit there, staring at you, waiting for you to do something great. Simultaneously, you feel like (a) how boring this must be for the fan, and (b) that the fan is expecting you to put on a little show just for them, and you kind of resent them for that -- as Jon Stewart said, "I'm not your trained monkey."
- DO look directly at them when you see them naturally, but don't stare or keep glancing at them every minute or so. If you meet their eyes, smile! That's really nice. Everyone likes being smiled at. Give them a mini-head-nod if you like, or throw in a wink if you're feeling naughty. They'll get the message: "Hi, I recognize you, and I like your work, thank you." All without you saying anything or interrupting them. (I've never had someone pass me in the hall at WWDC and smile at me and thought, "DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL! STOP WITH YOUR INFERNAL SMILING!" But I admit I'm weird.)
- Don't interrupt celebrities who are clearly with a group of people who are all close to them, and they're just trying to have a conversation with their friends / family / business associates without being interrupted.
- If you have a specific thing you'd like to discuss with the celebrity, it's OK if they are in a general group (like, standing around at a party, chatting) to come up and politely stand close enough to talk to them and SMILE at the group while you listen to whatever is currently being said. Obviously, if it turns out this is some business discussion or they are talking about personal shit, bail. When you get a chance to talk, you can be all, "Hi, Mr. Ford -- I heard you don't like to be a judged by your charisma instead of your acting, and I was wondering..." This gives them a topic, so they're not expected just to perform for you. If they answer your question and don't engage you more after that, smile and listen to the general conversation for a while, then nod at everyone in the group and wander off.
- Most importantly, BE INTERESTING ON YOUR OWN. The best interactions I've had with celebrities is when I've been with a group of my peeps and we've been telling jokes and stories and we're all having a great old time. Then the celebrity thinks, "Wow, I want to join in with them!" instead of the other way around, and you don't have the extreme power imbalance of the other situations. We already know the celebrity is interesting, the question is, are you? Do you have something cool to say? If not, work on this before you, like, talk to anyone, celebrity or not.
--
Having written those rules out, I now realize they are exactly my approach for hitting on women, which, while admittedly far from perfect, have been FAR more successful than my previous rules, which were "Go directly up to the woman and say, 'Oh my god you are so hot I'd give anything to feel your soft warm flesh against mine,'" and then just stare at her, agape, waiting for her response.
--
Tesla Motors was showing off their electric car this year in the Simulcast Lounge, which I also call the "Loser Lounge" although it's luck of the draw who gets the main theatre passes and who gets the simulcast passes (and if there's room in the main theatre, we losers can get in there as well, so we're not always stuck).
It's pretty gorgeous. I talked to Tesla CEO Martin Eberhard and was amazed that he knew every bolt of the car inside and out. Every single part had a story. "This is straight from the Lotus -- this is all-new. There's carbon in there but we're changing it. That back glass is moving out, this will be another color, these lights are actually the second-to-last prototypes, etc, etc, etc. Seriously, this man has a complete blueprint of this whole car in his head. I dare you to ask the CEO of any other car company some technical question about one of his cars.
Mike Matas was with me and started asking questions about how cars are designed, because Mike wants to know how everything works. The CEO started talking about all the crazy B.S. involved in getting a car to market -- like, for instance, when they changed the
paint color of the logo on the airbag in the center of the steering wheel from the "Lotus" insignia to the "Tesla" insignia, he had the exact figures on how much it cost him to get the government to
re-certify the entire airbag system. (The factory was all, "Hey, if you want, we can just give 'em to you saying "Lotus" for no extra money. Oh, hey, THANKS! That'll be great!)
I asked one of the people on the board how I might actually purchase a car. "Oh, it's easy, just go to our website, there's an on-line form." Yes, but, how do I send you the money? "Oh, there's just a space for your credit card."
Wait, let's review this. Most people have put up $100,000 to reserve a car. $100,000. On a single credit card.
"Uh, listen, I think I do pretty OK, but, uh, this is embarrassing, but I don't actually have a personal credit card with a $100,000 limit." (Or $50,000, or $40,000, or 30, or 20...) Turns out you can also send them a wire transfer if you want to do it the
loser way.
On the final day I told Eberhard that he'd sold at least one unit, as I'd decided to finally put down my deposit, based on what I'd seen and the projected date of getting a service center in Seattle, and he smiled, and reached into his pocket and gave me a tiny Tesla pin. I guess you expect a joke here, but, seriously, I love that fucking pin.
--
So Matt knows how cool I think it is to "roll", as it were, and he gets a certain kick out of frontin' like he "rolls heavy" when, actually, he's pretty happy just hanging out with folks and drinking beer.
At the TEDGrand TEDParty, Daryl Hannah walked in and asked Matt if he could maybe keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't get cornered by anyone, kind of like Lloyd Dobbler. Daryl has a reputation for being a pretty smart cookie, and I think this helped prove it -- she didn't want to hold herself above everyone at the party and not talk to anyone, so she just bought some insurance against the inevitable 1% bad-apple-factor. She had a certain signal she'd give Matt if she needed him to come along and gently pull her away from someone who was being obnoxious -- and, NO, before you ask, she didn't use that signal on me. Well, as far as I know. Now that I think about it, she may have had a SEPARATE signal for Matt in case she got cornered by someone who knew the first signal. Look, this thing goes a lot deeper than any of us thought, ok?
--

Now, I'm TEDAvoiding Matt at the TEDGrand TEDParty, because he's rolling with Daryl and her leggy friend, and, frankly, I knew if I went up to that group it'd just
seem as if I were trying to get an introduction to Daryl, even though
really it'd be because I needed a refill of mashed mackerel.
My friend Greg and I are roaming around, and we decide to grab drinks at one of the many TEDBars that have set up in the hangar. (Oddly, the party was sponsored by Grey Goose, again, so I would have thought they'd throw the party at, like, a pond, not a hangar.) So we're in line, and Matt and Darryl and Legs are all being chatted up by a big group right by the bar.
Suddenly Matt sees me, and, much like the other night, he kind of cocks an eyebrow and does the come-here finger motion -- the expression on his face is basically the "Oh, you are in trouble young man" kind of thing, which was really funny in context but for the life of me I can't explain why. So I creep over, and Matt extends his hand way out, like we were meeting for the first time at the conference (and UNLIKE we'd just spoken an hour or so ago), and he yells, "Wil Shipley! How the heck are you!" And I'm all, "Matt! Great to see you!"
Matt says, in a total theatre voice, "WIL! I want YOU to meet MY FRIEND, [Legs]!" (I'm not using her name not because of my rampant sexism, but because it seems like a privacy invasion. Again, I'm walking a fine line here.) And I'm all, in my best leading-up-to-the-punchline-voice, "So Nice To Meet You, Legs!" And then Matt lets out, "And, this is my friend, DARRYL HANNAH!" and he looks so extremely pleased with himself, that, honestly, the point of this story is just how pleased Matt was to be able to pull that off, and not that I got to meet Darryl Hannah for thirty seconds (although she is extremely engaging and extremely tall).
So I said to Darryl, "Oh, are you standing by the bar because you want a drink with a
splash of lemon in it?" and she honestly says, "GrrrrrrrrrRRrrrr..." And I'm all, "Look, I'm sorry, I've had 15 seconds here to think of a joke... I can do better." I pull back and look her up and down. "Ok, uh, I like what you've done with your hair... did you get those red highlights by using
henna?"
She literally grabbed my badge and choked me with the badge-strings -- shaking it for emphasis. Look, if you come up with better jokes when you meet Darryl Hannah, you can mock me, but until then...
Greg and I wandered off, and did other party things. I'd like to note that I spend the vast majority of my time NOT around stars, but the star stories seem less invasive -- in the sense that pretty much everyone was watching the stars when these stories happened, so they are already "on the record." I could sit here and repeat what Greg and I talked about for a couple hours the night before at the bar, as we exchanged stories on how messed-up we are (ADD vs. OCD) and our other deep thoughts on life, but those were private conversations, and, also, mostly consisted of us grunting and saying, "Bitches!" anyways, and how interesting is that?
--
I've known Jeff Bezos since the first TED, where we demoed Delicious Library for him. Mike was doing it, and he was really impressed with how quickly Jeff takes in information. He'd show a feature and Jeff would nod, and then quickly say, "What else?" Not rudely, you understand, but just indicating that he now understood the entirety of what was explained to him and all of its implications, and he required more data. It was like, "So you scan in the book with the camera..." nod-what-else "And then you can loan this way..." nod-what-else "And it gets the recommendations..." nod-what-else... and so on. At the end Mike wanted to start making stuff up just because his whole demo was over in like 20 seconds -- "Uh, sorry, uh, I guess that's all it does?"
Nod-ok.
So Jeff's sharp as hell, but he's also just really, really funny. I mean, he's the center of every party. This year he brought his blood family, and it turns out they are ALL a complete riot (well, I didn't meet his mom; maybe she stands around with her hands on her hips frowning at her men disapprovingly while they bring down the house). At the end of the party his family had a very large entourage of people all standing around and making jokes with them.
I walked by Jeff and he was with his brother, which violated my rule of approach (eg, with family, probably having a private conversation) but he saw me and stuck his hand way out: "Wil Shipley!" Unlike Matt, he wasn't frontin'; we actually hadn't said hi this year, since he'd been at private parties with Clinton and shit on previous nights.
So I said hello and he introduced me to his brother, who, it turns out, runs one of the most amazing charities in New York -- but I didn't know this at the time, so I just saw a guy who looked almost exactly like Jeremy Piven; he was even wearing a baseball cap. I said, "Hey, are you as funny as your brother?" and Jeff interrupted, "FUNNIER!" I doubted that, but it turned out to be true.
Since the brother is taller and more rugged-looking, I leaned over and said to him, "So you got the humor AND the looks in the family?..." and he interrupted, "...AND JEFF GOT THE ENTIRE REST OF THE UNIVERSE!" It was sweet because it wasn't jealousy that made him say it -- it was more like wanting to tease his brother, who I think still thinks of himself as a high-school geek, about just how much power he has now. Again, I'm projecting, here -- I wasn't inside their heads at the time, so who knows.
Then the elder Bezos wanders over -- he is a sharply handsome man who pretty much defines "distinguished." He's in great shape and very clean-cut, although he was also rocking kind of a cowboy aesthetic. The brother says, "Oh, this is my dad!" and I look over and exclaim, possibly a bit-too-loudly, "Hey, are you ALSO FUNNY?"
And the dad just looks at me with his steely eyes, his face not moving. He squints the tiniest bit, like Clint Eastwood in a Segio Leone movie.
"Ooor... are you not... funny?"
Squint.
"Ooor... maybe... you don't like questions about humor?"
Finally he speaks. Softly, but still everyone could hear him clearly over the din of the party around us. "Four of the last five men I've killed asked me that question."
--
As you can imagine, he and I got on like a house afire.
--
There was a really nice tequila being served at the bar behind us, and senior Bezos started telling us about how when he was young, tequila was considered a really crap liquor, that you drank if nothing else was available to get you drunk, and now they were charging fortune for all these fancy ones. I hiked up my pants a bit and went into my grumpy-old-man act ("You know, when I was a boy, we didn't have these fancy-schmancy TEQUILAS!").
Brother Bezos said, "But Dad, this is free! It's an open bar! It costs nothing!"
The dad is the funniest because he's the best at being deadpan: "What? Are you kidding? I've been paying all night! In fact, that guy still has my credit card!"
"Oh man," I said, "he's probably buying a Tesla right now."
--
I asked the bartender (the one who may or may not have a really nice credit card), who I correctly guessed spoke Spanish, if he could help us with the traditional toast for tequila, which goes, like, "Arriba... avajo... al centro... something else" (not correct spelling). He led us through it, and the tequila was really good. I shot mine, and later begged the bartender for the final drops as he closed down the bar, which might have been a mistake, as afterwards Brother Bezos told a joke that had me gasping for air so much that I lost my balance and fell down in a crumple. The wait staff all looked at me and smiled hugely, and yelled over, "No mas tequila!"
I believe becoming silly from tequila is something that cuts across all artificial racial and class boundaries.
--
When I first encountered the Bezos clan I half-bragged/half-joked that I could introduce them to Matt Groening if they wanted, and Jeff was all yawn I met him last night. I'm like, well, uh, I might be able to produce Darryl Hannah with some work. Ok, they said, but I looked around and couldn't find her.
A half hour later or so Jeff was all, "Wil, dude, where's Darryl? I thought you were bringing her over." I demurred that she didn't seem to be around. Jeff was all, sure, whatever, I bet you can't get her over here. I was all, you're on, five minutes, it's 9:53 PM, let's go.
I ran around the room asking everyone "Have you seen Darryl Hannah?" which is a funny question to ask about a six-foot blonde movie star in a crowd of geeks. It's like, "Hey, did you see T-Rex here at the party? No? How about that volcano in the middle of the room? See that?"
So I ran up to where Darryl was, wearing my leather-soled shoes. This is relevant because there's a particular comedy move you can do in leather shoes that's been lost with sneakers -- the early stop. You stop dead a couple feet short of your target, and then slide up to them, ending up all up in their bidness.
I breathlessly apologized to the guy(s) who were currently flirting with Darryl, then was all, "Hey! Hey! Jeff Bezos just bet me that I couldn't get you to come say hi to him."
"Oh yah?" Darryl said, skeptically. "How much?"
"Uh, well... I mean, it's a gentleman's bet."
Darry: "WHAT? You tell Mr. Bezos I am NOT going over there unless there's money on the line."
So I run back to my group and SLIIIIIide up to them, breathlessly (remember we're in a damn hangar), and spout, "Darryl -pant- says she won't -pant- do it for no money."
Bezos: "Ok, fine, I'll bet you a dollar."
Run back, slide, interrupt the guys hitting on Darryl again, who are starting to hate me.
Me: "He says he'll go to a dollar!"
Darryl: "WHAT?! That's an insult. I am not going over there unless it's at least $10."
Run, slide, pant.
Me: "$10 minimum."
Bezos: "Look, I'm willing to go $5."
Runslide.
Me: "He'll go up to $5."
Darryl looks at me like I was a production assistant and I'd just brought her decaf when she'd asked for regular. Remember, besides being an incredibly leggy blonde bombshell, she's also an actress, so when she looks at you like you're a worm, you actually start actively craving the taste of dirt. Remember that character she played in Kill Bill? I want you to imagine some guy just said he'd give her $5 if she'd meet his friend, and how that character would look at him.
She spoke to me in a complete uninflected tone of voice, as if she was worried that if she indicated any emotion should would just completely lose it. All she said was, "I am positive that I said $10."
R/S.
Me: "Dude, she's insisting on $10."
Bezos: "Ok, but she has to sign the $10... and I get to keep it."
Me: "What kind of bet is that?"
Bezos: "Take it or leave it."
-rs-
Darryl: "Fine!" She steps over the guys around her as if they were toadstools and heads over. (Note to guys around her: sorry you're the butt of my jokes, please don't hate me.)
When she finally confronts Bezos, she bellows at him: "$10! That's what I'm worth to you!?"
Bezos came over and hugged her, and we all laughed our asses off, and then everyone agreed to pose for pictures together. I was on Darryl's left, and Father Bezos was on the right. Jeff was all, "Hey, I want to be in the picture," and his dad was just quietly, "Well, tough, because I'm here." Dad was like: look, you may be a billionaire to everyone else, but you're still my boy: I wiped your butt when you were a baby, and I'm hogging all the Darryl Hannah love if I want to.
Jeff ended up crouching down in front of Darryl, and she put her fingers behind his head giving him rabbit ears. Jeff's father did the same, and then so did I, so in the picture Jeff has a virtual halo of rabbit ears. Sadly, I was too drunk to remember who took this picture, but I hope whoever has it will send me a copy, because I know that at this point nobody believes this story, least of all me.
A few minutes later Jeff showed his brother the $10 with Darryl's signature on it, "How cool is this?"
"Hey," I said, "Isn't that mine?"
"Nope. A bet's a bet," and he tucked it in his pocket. True dat.
--
Ten minutes later, Jeff was was all, "Hey, Wil, I'll bet you a dollar you can't get Cameron Diaz over here," and off I went. Sadly Cameron was not In Da House.
As I rejoined the group everyone was staring at me. "What happened?"
"She's just not here!"
Jeff did his imitation of a stern executive: "Look, I didn't ask for excuses! I asked for Cameron -snort-." The funny thing about Jeff is when he tells a joke he usually can't get more than halfway into the sentence before he's already laughing at it himself. I guess that's the curse of a fast mind.
--
The last day of TED, Saturday, is a half-day, followed by a beach party. When I woke up I took inventory of myself and found my legs covered in giant purple and yellow mystery bruises. Apparently this might be a sign of drinking too much, but actually the one on my right leg I'm pretty sure is from my motorcycle scar from a couple years back getting torn open again internally from all the walking and standing and running around fetching movie stars for billionaires.
Hey, kids! "Bleedy," the still-painful knee scar, sez: Don't pop wheelies on your motorcycles! When you're 35! Without protective equipment!
--
As we were running upstairs to disassemble one of his
robot sculptures before the final party, Greg and I ran into Tracy Chapman as she was leaving, surrounded by a group of admirers. She had composed a song for TED (a TEDSong!) and I felt bad that I hadn't gotten her anything.
"Hey, *I* have a fast car, so, you know... if you still need it... No?" I also complimented her performance, so I wouldn't seem entirely strange.
I was carrying the robot's arms to Greg's truck when we passed Tracy and company again outside; I said, "Hey, everyone, let's have a big hand for Tracy Chapman!" and then waved the Terminator-like hands around. Sight gags -- is there any lower form of humor? I think they're even below puns, judging from the fact that sight gag comedians (Gallagher, Carrot Top, me) are pretty much universally loathed.
--
At the party, after I'd said goodbye to Mari Chocolady and her husband NY Mac Guy, I went and said bye to Matt. He was with a little gang, and I said I was taking off, and we said bye, then he said something funny about me, and we all started talking, then I felt stupid because I'd already said goodbye but you don't want to just wander off when you're leaving for good, so I said goodbye again, which got us to all talking again, and the cycle repeated a few times.
There were four or five instances during TED this year that I'd seen Matt do something quite extraordinary, which was to detect when a situation was possibly going to lead to a conflict, and then gently say or do something so that instead everyone ended up happy, without anyone actually knowing what had just happened. This is something I really want to learn from him; this level of sensitivity to the people around me.
He did this trick one final time, on me.
We were talking about Matt's early work, and although I'm a huge fan of it in general, I'm not wild about Akbar and Jeff. Matt said, "Well, that's OK." And I agreed, because I appreciate it when people take risks with humor, and if you don't tell some jokes that aren't funny, occasionally, then you're not trying very hard to tell jokes that
are funny. Humor is, by definition, edgy and new, and anything that pushes the edge forward sometimes falls off it.
So, I started teasing Matt. I think it came off like I was the young upstart and I was kind of trying to challenge him, although really I meant it completely ironically, because I didn't believe anything I said -- the most difficult kind of humor to pull off is to repeat bad things other people have said about someone that you do not yourself believe, and say them in such a tone that it's clear that you are making fun of the people who say them, not the person you're actually insulting.
"Well, Matt's not edgy any more! He doesn't take risks! No longer challenges authority! Not willing to fail!" and so on.
And Matt just looks at me and smiles and says, "Wil, you're great."
Which made me feel horrible, because that would be the perfect response if I were feeling insecure and were trying to puff myself up by putting him down. But I was really just trying to tell him I thought he
was all these things. I wanted to say, you know, I still love your show. I think you still push the boundaries with every episode. I am amazed at the subversive ideas you manage to propagate on the most politically conservative network on television, and grateful that we have your voice in our new culture of hate and fear.
I should have just said this, rather than hiding my compliments behind irony.
--
The problem Matt faces is one every content-producer faces --
everyone faces -- whether we create software or television shows or a little vanity blog. It's that, as soon as our work comes into contact with the audience, it starts to change.
We change. Because the audience reacts to us, and we can't help but react to them.
First off, every audience eventually rebels against what they love. Anything that was once cool HAS to then become uncool. I honestly liked the first several seasons of Friends, but it's hard to admit that now, because the whole show is considered so white-bread. Let me tell you, children, once Friends was edgy and fun.
Second, audiences tend to romanticize older works. If you're old enough, do you remember how funny SNL was in the 70s? Well, that's because you had ALL OF THE 70s to select from. You can remember just the Bad News Buzzing Bees sketch with Walter Matthau, and Samurai Barber, and forget Nose Wrestling and the billion other clunkers. Go ahead and re-watch the Simpsons shorts from the Tracy Ullman show, and tell me they are funnier than the show today.
Third, if you create anything that is really successful, by definition it becomes part of our culture, and then by definition it's no longer edgy. There was a time before David Letterman where, if, say, a talk show host said to a guest, "So, you're bigger than Jesus," it would be a HUGE scandal, because we hadn't invented post-irony, which is where you say something that's a quote of something else because you sort of mean it but you are also making fun of the people who actually might feel that way at the same time that you're saying it. Now, David Letterman's style is no longer that risky -- everyone I know uses this form of humor every day, saying the exact opposite of what they mean. Some days I don't say a single true statement. "Wow, you're a surprisingly unattractive girl!" "I sure wouldn't want another drink!"
Fourth, as the audience for something broadens, the audience starts to include people who basically don't like the thing in question, they're just there because it seems like the thing to do. So they complain about the very content they are consuming, basically asking the creator to be what he is not, ignoring that creation is a very personal act, and you can't change the very person.
This is a long-winded way of saying, this will be my last post with comments enabled. Not because I don't value other people's opinions, but because I need a place to write whatever I feel, and I created this blog to solve that need. But recently I find myself wondering, with every post, whether I'll please my "audience." And I find myself being dulled by this. There are lots of strange things I want to post, but I hear the voices in my head that chastise me for speaking about the possible end of the human race, and I think, "Boy, they REALLY aren't going to want to hear my ideas for a new water purifier."
So, if you liked this blog because it has a forum for discussions, well, I thank you for being with me, and wish you well on your journey. If you wanted me to talk on just one topic, I invite you to use the categories I've set up (I'll try to set up feeds for each one, too, but I haven't fully figured out the NEW Blogger.com yet).
--
After several cycles of talking to the group and saying goodbye to Matt and then all of us talking some more, I finally felt like an idiot during one of the "conversation" parts of the cycle, and wandered off over the sand to my hotel.
After I got thirty feet, Matt looked up and noticed I was gone, and turned and yelled "Hey, Wil... Goodbye!"
Thanks Matt. I'm wjs at mac.com, if you want to write. Either way, I'll see you next year.
Labels: humor?, stories
Friday, March 9
More stars: Forest Whitaker is here this year, as is Cameron Diaz. I haven't talked to Cameron at all, once again going on the assumption that it's probably rude to just get all up in her face just because she's famous when I really don't have anything particular to say to her except, "Gorsh, you sure be pretty."
I've seen her around a bit, but all I know is that she's pretty nice looking in person. I haven't even been close enough to hear her voice. Today she was crossing the street wearing Ugg boots and I thought I'd grab a picture, but the sun was really bright and I couldn't really see so this is what I got. Sorry if it's a bit of a disappointment.
--
I did walk by Forest as some guy called out, "Hey, congrats on the Oscar," (to him, not me) which I guess he's getting a lot of this week. He seems like a really, sincerely nice guy -- I mean, sure, he's an actor, so maybe he's just really good at faking it, but it seemed like he was actually touched.
I asked him, "Hey, does anyone every say NOT congrats on the Oscar? You know, like, 'Damn, you really didn't deserve that.'" Forest actually thought about it, and his face furrowed up in a way that you can probably kind of see in your head if you've watched his movies. "No, but that would really suck, huh?"
Some friends and I were later talking about Forest's Oscar, and we agreed we were pretty happy about it because he's actually an actor, not a caricature. We're not paying to see Forest The Legend get up on screen and be himself, we're paying because we know that he's going to actually be the character he plays. Frankly, I'm sick of Cruise and Schwarzenegger showing up and smiling and being smarmy and calling it a day.
--
I should mention at this point I am actually kidding about being engaged to Jehane. I know humor isn't always clear in blogs-- I really do understand we're not really engaged, ok? She seems like a nice gal and everything, and it's fun to flirt, of course. But please don't worry about me having totally lost touch with reality. I mean, not in that one specific way. Other ways, sure.
--
When you get to TED you get a couple gift bags -- this year it's a shopping bag full of loot plus a bright red suitcase full of more loot. Plus, you get to keep the suitcase, which seems like a deleted scene from Austin Powers. ("It's a really nice suitcase." "That's not the point, the point is might not have wanted to spend the money on a suitcase...")
One of the coolest things we got this year was a copy of Aperture, which would be awesome except I just bought it, so I feel stupid. I was sitting at the bar tonight with Richard Kerris (now from Apple, once from Maya, and a really good guy) and, in my fashion, I started yelling really loudly, "DAMN YOU FOR GIVING THIS AWAY JUST AFTER I BOUGHT IT!" Completely deadpan, Richard didn't even pause before he shrugged ever-so-slightly and said, "mehyoucanaffordit," like it was all one word, which everyone thought was pretty awesome. I mean, companies need employees who tell it like it is.
I've gotten extra bonus swag just by talking to other TEDsters. I met a guy from Netflix and told him I owned stock and loved them and wanted him to destroy Blockbuster, and he basically confirmed my basic faith in his company. He was really nice and said he'd send me a free one-year subscription when I got home. Sweet.
I also met a man who is a VP at Chik-Fil-A, which is a chicken sandwich chain (mostly in the Southeast) which makes the best chicken sandwiches ever. I told him how I grew up in Georgia loving those sandwiches to death, but I couldn't get them in Seattle, and twice I'd actually had friends who were traveling bring me back five or six of sandwiches in their suitcases.
He was really happy to hear this, and he said, "You know what I'm going to do for you?..." and pulled a little card out of his pocket, good for one free sandwich. "Now, if you're ever in a state where they have a Chik-Fil-A, you can get a free one. Note that there's an expiration date, but you can just ignore that and point out my name, and they'll honor it."
Sure enough, it actually had the name of the VP on the little free sandwich card. For some reason this struck me as really, really strange.
I contemplated for a moment the economics of taking a plane trip to a state where they have Chik-Fil-As in order to cash in on a single free sandwich, and then further the idea of telling the employees, "Look, I know this has expired, but I've flown across the fucking country and check it: this is signed by a damn V.P."
But, honestly, he was being really sincere and I accepted his offer graciously, in the spirit in which it was given. Also, I seriously fucking love those sandwiches.
--
I met a dude here who's got some gorgeous sculptures on display, and we've been drinking together the past two nights, bonding over how nuts we both are. He's got me somewhat beat in the first part of his life, having A.D.D. so bad he dropped out of high school to become a ne'er-do-well before he discovered prescription drugs at the same age I did. Now he works as a 3D animator for movie trailers (seriously!) and welds sculptures at night. His work is moving and incredible -- frankly, I'm considering buying one of the pieces here at TED.
Last night he and I were at the "Crown & Anchor" (WTF does that name even mean? What has both a crown and an anchor? Am I on the king of all boats? Or some floating sovereign?) where all the TEDsters go after the parties, and across the bar I saw Matt Groening again.
I said to my new friend, "Hey, there's Matt, I should go do some starfucking!" He was curious about Matt, too, and honestly asked, with wide-eyed sincerity, "Is it cool if I starfuck too?"
I'm a magnanimous man: "Of course! Starfucking is for everyone!" (Note: I don't actually know if it is, but it sounded good.)
I ran across the pub in slow motion with my arms open yelling "Matt! Matt!" like that guy in Wuthering Heights. Sadly, pretty much nobody saw this, so I felt like a giant idiot after doing it.
Matt was surrounded by what can only be described as a bevy of bodacious babes. I'd like to take this opportunity to state, clearly and for the record, and especially for his girlfriend who apparently sometimes does searches for his name: Matt did nothing with these admirers that would give any rational partner cause for jealousy. (Also, if you are reading: Hi, Matt's a really nice guy, hope you like my little blog, please realize I'm going for humor here.)
One of the girls was actually the bartender from a previous party, but she had recognized Matt and apparently asked to come along. The other I think had already been in the pub when he got there, and had glommed on to him in the way that some people (-cough-) do. Today at TED Matt told me that he had been hoping I would come into the bar last night, so he could show off his little mini-posse and pretend that he really rolls that way when in fact, I guess, he doesn't. Well, not EVERY night.
Now, here's the thing about Matt: he's so nice to everyone around him that I honestly have no idea if he was just messing with me or not. I mean, maybe he was just saying that because he thought it'd make me feel special, and he's the kind of guy who likes to make people feel special? I'm not sure.
So, let me shift gears to seriousness for a second, because I noticed something interesting. All night he was surrounded by people who simply loved him and his work. And he constantly shifted the attention back on them. And it wasn't just because he was shy: he actually paid attention to the people around him. Someone would start talking about how great he is, and he'd say, "Hey, so this is Anita, and she's speaking tomorrow... I want to hear about that..." and he'd really listen to her. He knew the names and professions of every person around him, all night, and he'd introduce everyone to everyone else as if he were hosting a little pub-based dinner party. "Wil, I want you to meet Sally, she's a student here in town..."
And, unlike my assumptions of how famous people act, Matt doesn't prefer to be around other famous people. The whole conference I've seen him pretty much hanging out in the common areas and talking to people from every walk of life. He's doesn't seem to need to feed his ego by talking to other people of high status. He just wants people around him to be happy, whoever they are.
In light of how cool this is, I guess my starfucking seems, well, kind of shallow. But let me offer this defense: I don't talk to Matt because I want people to see me with him. If I were trying for that crap, I'd be following around Cameron Diaz, anyways.
I talk to him because I used to read his comics when I was a kid, and they spoke to something deep inside me ("at night, the ice weasels come"), and then I watched The Simpsons on the Tracy Ullman show, and then on Fox, and then I watched Futurama, and I loved them all and they made me laugh and they challenged society and they sometimes really touched me as well.
And I just really, really want to get to know this person who can do this. I am just intensely curious about someone who can touch not only me, but every single person I know. Who can do that? What kind of man is this?
So there.
--
Yesterday I said hi to Peter Gabriel again briefly and told him that Delicious Library 2 was in the swag bag, and I hoped he'd enjoy it. He introduced me to his unbearably lovely wife, who was so pretty she made my toes ache. I knew he was shy and didn't want to hassle him so I was all, "Well, anyways, now you've saved $60 in upgrade fees, and I know that's probably pretty damn important to someone in your position."
--
Part 2:
In Which I Show Meg Ryan What A Really Big Penis Looks Like--
Tonight a group of us were watching the TED prize winners in the simulcast lounge, including Matt and one of his genius writers (I don't know if he wants his name used or not) and his writer girlfriend. Interestingly, I met her first -- it turns out she worked on Arrested Development, the Best Show Ever.
Someone commented, "Wow, you guys must have some AWESOMELY funny pillow talk," but, you know, lives are never as glamorous as we imagine. She said, "Honestly, most nights we're so exhausted it's just like, 'Your turn to go take care of the fussy baby.'"
Ha ha! And the larfs don't stop!
An odd thing is I kept seeing the writer (before I knew who he was) around TED, and he looks so much like a younger, taller version of Matt that I'd think it WAS Matt for a split second. I've never seen anyone with Matt's haircut, so the idea that two people in the same office have that haircut was mind-boggling. Maybe it's an LA thing?
I asked Matt if he or the writer was funnier, just to see if I could stir up trouble, but he basically just kind of growled at me to not be bad, the way the dad lion gently swats his cubs when they try to bite his ears too many times. I guess I'd forgotten he has a 14-year-old -- I'm seriously outgunned in the goat-getting department.
While we were watching Meg Ryan came in to our little area, and she wasn't wearing her glasses, which I guess was her signal that she was in the mood to be more social. She smiled nicely at us as she sat down. I wasn't sure if she was just saying hi to Matt (the famous one) or all of us, and since I'd already twice today done that thing where someone smiles at me and I smile back really big and then realize they are totally looking at someone behind me and I feel like a total asshat, I didn't really smile at her, but tried to, you know, keep my eyes bright.
She's really pretty close up -- very slender and small. Our group (Matt and the two comedy writes and a couple of drinking buds) were all joking around a bit, especially after a waiter came by with some champagne, and although Meg and her friend were sitting a bit apart from us she kept looking over and laughing with us.
When there was a pause in the on-screen action, Meg and Matt talked and Matt announced she had a part in an upcoming show, and Meg said excitedly she has room to come back, too. This brought our two groups together, and we all started making jokes. At one point someone made a reference to an amazing picture we'd all seen that afternoon, of a whale mating ritual, which featured an ENORMOUS RED WHALE PENIS. So I rolled my sleeve up and held my arm up high with a fist at the end, imitating almost exactly what we had seen jutting out of the water earlier, except less red and slightly less filled with sperm (although I admit it's been a little while).
Somehow the topic of conversation turned to my butt, as it always does, and I mentioned how rock-hard my butt is to all and sundry. I asked my welder-artist cohort loudly if he had, indeed, touched my butt the night before when I'd been showing it off, and he denied it. Those new to my butt expressed disbelief that I would brag thusly, but I expounded on it with such force that they were eventually converted: my butt is a force to be reckoned with; forged of the strongest steel. I don't remember the exact words, but I remember looking Meg in the eye and saying with an almost straight face, "Look, I know it seems weird to tell people to feel my butt. But it's not squishy like you might think. It's just like touching a stone."
Then she demonstrated some game to Matt called "Magic Touch" whose rules I did not catch (apparently it involved walking by someone and bumping elbows?), and said the group should play it later. But then she lamented, "I'm probably going to end up touching Wil's ass."
I feel like that would be a fine thing for my tombstone. Although, by that time I guess it will have happened or not.
I told other jokes, as well; I don't remember what. Maybe some were actually funny. Finally Meg rolled her chair over next to mine and asked to see my badge, "Are you a comedian or what?" I told her I was just a software developer, but I was actually thinking of doing a little stand-up as a hobby. She said I should, since I had a certain presence.
HAH HAH SUCK ON THAT TOM HANKS I BET SHE NEVER SAID THAT TO YOU MISTER EIGHTY BILLION OSCARS! YOU GOT MAIL, SUCKER, AND IT SAYS THERE'S A NEW STUD IN TOWN.
No, I'm not serious, I love Tom Hanks and I know she was just being nice. But, still, that was a really flattering compliment from a very charismatic lady. And you know what? I'm going to go ahead and feel good about it. Yah, that's right, I'm going to sit here enjoying it. I'm going to roll my ego in it and let it soak into all the places with the little dings and scratches from 37 years of occasional rejections or insults or slights.
First the funniest man in the world says I'm funny, then America's sweetheart says I have presence. Who knew stars were so full of compliments? At this point I really wouldn't be shocked if I met Carrie Fisher and she was all, "You know what? Actually YOU are my only hope."
Anyways, Meg and I talked seriously for a little while about life and stuff; I spoke about my big breakup and putting myself back together afterwards -- it would be an invasion to repeat her part of the conversation, but I was really struck by two things: One was that she kept turning the spotlight back to me, and I kept feeling incredibly embarrassed to be telling Meg Ryan stupid stories from my life, but she kept asking questions about me every time I'd turn it around.
The other was that she was, in fact, a real human being, who had the same dreams and fears and insecurities that we all do. Because we are all really pretty much the same. There is just so much more that we have in common than we have that is different. I keep re-learning this.
--
Remember this, if you ever meet me. I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid I won't live up to your expectations, I'm afraid you'll think I'm ugly, I'm afraid I'll look like a nerd or do something inappropriate and you'll disapprove of me. If I act aloof it's because I don't have the inner strength to risk being rejected that day, not because I don't care about you as a human being.
Labels: humor?, stories
Wednesday, March 7
On the flight down I saw NY Mac guy and his wife Lucy Liu during my layover at the San Fran airport, waiting for the puddlehopper to Monterey, jack. I never get tired of that joke.
I can now reveal
Lucy's real identity, because she's in Vogue this month, and damn that's pretty cool. Since last TED she started a brownie business and, from my vantage point, it seems to be doing pretty well. Again, from nothing to Vogue in one year. Besides being really amazing brownies (and I don't usually eat sweets -- I find them cloying), with just the right combination of fudginess and cakiness (these are actual industry terms I just made up), she independently hit on the clever idea of having the actual brownies be really tiny, so you could eat one without getting a billion-zillion calories.
The funny part was her entire carry-on appeared to be filled with brownies, like some kind of crazy person, who understands people might have luggage but doesn't understand what normal people do with it. So, at the airport, she was all, "try a brownie!" and I'm thinking, sure, when I get back to Seattle maybe you can send... oh you have a suitcase full of them. That is a perfectly rational thing. For example, my suitcase is entirely full of software.
No, not really, it's mostly underwear. I don't know why, but underwear is the most massive thing in my suitcase. This is just a comment on my packing, really, not my package. I seriously thought, "Boy, I hope I don't open this in front of people, because pretty much it's gonna look like I'm an underwear gnome."
Look, I like to feel fresh, ok? Stop hassling me.
Anyways, Mari (it can be revealed as her real name) had a suitcase full of brownies, which suddenly seemed incredibly clever to me, because if you're going to a party what better way to be the most popular person than to bring a hojillion bite-sized treats?
Apparently going through security was interesting, because Mari had placed the stacks and stacks of brownies in a matrix and wrapped the whole thing in layers of plastic wrap, and this sort of configuration of confection and cling wrap looks exactly like a bunch of C4. But after she calmly explained to the TSA lady that it was just brownies, they swabbed her bag and let her through. (I feel like there's an Arrested Development joke in here somewhere, but I'm too tired to go for it.)
Now, I'd like to point out that for some fucking reason the TSA makes us place all our cosmetics (no more than 3 oz, otherwise lip gloss can kill!) inside of a single ziploc baggy or throw them out, because, you know, of all the times planes have been taken down by terrorists wearing too damn much mascara and lip-liner, but if you go through with an entire suitcase full of what appears to be one of the most explosive substances civilians could reasonably get ahold of, THEN they just swab the outside of your damn suitcase and you're done. It's like the famous Ernie and Burt sketch where Ernie has a banana in his ear to keep away alligators: they can't use the swab test to detect explosives in cosmetics, because the swab test has never worked before detecting explosives in cosmetics, because NOBODY ACTUALLY PUTS FUCKING EXPLOSIVES IN THEIR COSMETICS. WE ARE NOT LIVING IN A STATE OF SIEGE. WE JUST INVENTED IT.
The real explanation must be 9/11 9/11 9/11, like the answer to most crap these days.
--
I decided that the only fair way for Mari to give out her brownies was for us to sidle up to people at the conference and say, conspiratorially, "Psst... Mari has brownies. Today's password is Maverick. Pass it on." And then, those who approach her each day with the correct password get a brownie, subject, of course, to her daily limit of a third of a hojillion, because her luggage
is finite. (Note to people at TED: today's password really is Maverick.)
The problem with this idea, I realize in the cold, headachy light of the morning after drinking too damn many Grey Goose (an official sponsor of Not Learning Anything At TED) cocktails, is that this is going to be like the world's largest game of "telephone," and eventually it's going to get back to me when someone sidles up and whispers, "Mary is frowny today, the last word is cadaver, bless zion."
And I'm going to be all, "Gimme the blue pill. Seriously. Blue one. Don't fuck around."
--
At the hotel Meg Ryan and Daphne Zuniga were checking in together. Both were at TED last year, but I hadn't spoken to Meg because she seemed like she didn't want to be bothered, and, you know, I don't want to be That Guy. She was again In Disguise today, meaning she was wearing dark John Lennon glasses, which I thought was funny, because it's like, "Hey, who's that blonde everyone is staring at in the Lennon glasses? I can't quite make out... if only I could see her eyes... there's nothing distinctive about her face or hair or body to indicate it's Meg Fucking Ryan, America's Sweetheart... Hmm, oh well, probably nobody, move along."
Anyways, I did briefly walk up to Daphne and try to continue my joke from last year: I was all, "Hey, Ione Skye! I'm so glad you came back!"
Seriously, her response could not have been any more polite and/or flattening: "Oh, I'm so sorry, I don't remember you... did you make that joke last year?"
I was all, uh, kind of, I mean, uh, I have to go now bye.
--
Teach me to be a smart-ass.
--
It probably won't help my reputation as an alcoholic to admit that last night, after not eating much all day, I went to the "TED Virgins" party (sponsored by Gray Goose!) and had too many gray geese concoctions (DAMN YOU GEESES... TO PIECES!) and got seriously LOUD. No, I know, you're shocked, but I did.
Normally the wall-flower, I think I started yelling at the new attendees about matters sexual. I might have tried to take my shirt off. Then, Matt Groening showed up.
Ok, look, this next part, I'm not going to try to make into a story, because I just have to write it down as quickly as I can: Matt remembered me from last year ("the guy who was yelling about killing the dog in Futurama!") and it turns out he'd Googled himself after TED and read my blog. And he was all, "hey, your blog is really funny."
Now, I'd like to repeat this, MATT FUCKING Groening THOUGHT MY BLOG WAS FUNNY! The Simpsons guy! The Futurama guy! The funniest man who ever lived, or ever will live, and I'm not just saying this in case he googles his name again and comes across this blog again and is reading it right now so I can totally suck up to him. I'm better than that. I'm ashamed of you for even thinking it. (But if you are reading, Matt Groening, I'd like a pony. Matt Groening Matt Groening Matt Groening c'mon Google give me some love.)
I'd love to sit here and tell you that I finally had a rational, sober conversation with Matt, but, again, by the time he showed up I'd been goosed to the point of incoherence. I don't actually remember a lot, except damn Matt's a handsome, handsome man, with great taste in blogs. I'm really hoping I didn't start screaming jokes about butt-sex, as I'm wont to do when sloshed.
For months I've been thinking, "Oh, man, next time I see Matt I'm going to ask him all these really insightful questions about his career and life, and he's going to be so impressed with how clever they are that we're going to be best buds forever." I honestly couldn't remember one question last night, and, to make things worse, now I can't remember what I *did* say. I'm pretty sure I asked, "Is your girlfriend totally hot," which, you know, wasn't one of the planned ones. Oh, and I asked him if he'd adopt me. I remember that now. I'm not really sure where I was going with that. I like to play the long-shots, I guess.
When talking to Matt I remembered I had an extra, secret Mari brownie stashed in my pocket, and, you know, it seemed totally natural to give it to him. I mean, you know, he's Matt Groening. Of course he wants a brownie that's been in my pocket for a couple hours. It naturally follows. Matt... brownie... pocket... Ok, it
made perfect sense.
Matt's response was, seriously, like a moment from his TV show. I handed him the brownie and he was all, totally deadpan, "Wow... thanks... warm pocket brownie... that's exactly what I needed."
--
Mmmm, pocket brownie.
--
Matt told several funny stories in between my shouting sessions -- he is, perhaps unsurprisingly, a natural story-teller. One was about his family, so I don't think it's fair game to repeat in its entirety, but it had the hilarious punch-line "Well, did Seth McFarlane buy you an X-box?" No, seriously, this killed.
Seriously, though, Matt had to shush me several times to get his stories out. This is how drunk I was: I was talking over Matt Groening. He's like, "Oh, I have a funny story about--" and I'm all, "FUNNY! YOU WANT TO HEAR FUNNY! HAH! LET ME TELL YOU A STOR..."
We did talk a bit about him working for Fox, and the difference in their politics (eg, kooky-loony-nuts-ann-coulter-frothing-mouth-crazy) from his (eg, sane). Matt is an incredibly open guy, and he said he'd shopped cartoons around to other networks around the time The Simpsons came out, and none of them would touch his stuff. (Note to network executives: GOOD MOVE, GENIUSES! WOW, YOU SURE CALLED THAT ONE CORRECTLY!)
--
After the beach party, several of us stumbled to the "Pig and Whistle and Crown and Anchor and Steamboat and Shanty and Sea Captain" or whatever the local pub is called. It's some damn Olde Tymey name.
Drinking is a particularly dangerous folly because it enforces itself in a positive feedback loop -- once drunk you lose the ability to say, "Hey, I'm already drunk and yelling at famous people, maybe I should now STOP drinking." So, going to a pub seemed like the natural thing to do at midnight the night before a conference we'd all paid a ton of money to attend. What could possibly go wrong?
Matt excused himself with calling his kids (diligent father AND good way to get out of being stupid!), so a group of people who I fuzzily remember now as "that guy who had the car bomb with me" and "the guy who looked like that jewish actor from LA Law" and "some guy with a face" went in alone. Except, at TED, you're never alone -- we soon ran into the guy who invented YouTube. No, serious, there's a guy. He's, like, young and shit. Handsome, well-dressed, well-spoken (when he gets a chance to talk in between being yelled at). I actually pulled his sportcoat out to look at the label, even. This did not, at the time, seem like a massive invasion of the man's personal space. (I'm pretty sure I refrained from checking what kind of underwear he was wearing, under there.)
I was kind of dumbstruck that here's this guy, who's the damn CEO, and he invented the whole damn thing. Youtube. And here's the guy who coded it, sitting to his right. AND THEY ARE BOTH FUCKING YOUNGER THAN ME. Not that I'm a bitter about that. I don't know why I typed in all caps there, really. I think my, uh, shift key thingy got sticky. It's an old keyboard.
--
So
Jehane walks into the bar... no, this isn't the beginning of a joke. (If it were, the bartender would ask her, "Why the long face?" and she'd say, "Sorry, I've been talking all day and I'm a little horse." And he'd be like, "An Egyptian? Horse? What are you, The Black Stallion?" And the Jehane would be all, "Nay, nay.")
No, she really did walk in. As you may recall from last year, she's my putative fiancé. I know I use the word putative too much, but there aren't many other words to describe our engagement. Possibly, "nominal fiancé" is accurate.
So I was all, "Darling! You came!" or something. Honestly, at this point I was really blitzed, and I have no idea what I yelled. Again, I'm hoping it wasn't about butt-sex. I really have to reign that in.
She sat down and asked me to buy her a drink that's a relative of the mojito but not exactly the same that I'd happened to just learn about two days ago (kismet!) but now I've forgotten its name again. It's like a "cosmipo" or some damn thing. Anyways, the bartender had no idea, so I fell back on mojito. I thought I'd impress Jehane with my mad rum-picking skillz, so I ran through a list of rums that were good enough for my betrothed, only some of which were made up ("Pyrat? Don Chevez? Ron Mapplethorpe? Guy Cesar?"), but he was like, "Look, we have Bacardi."
Alas. But I realized if I were to stand any chance in my continued wooing, Jehane needed to be a lot drunker, quickly. Because drunk people are Not Funny to sober people, just as high people are Not Funny to drunk people or sober people. It's a mathematical invariant, which can be expressed using the special "not funny" operator I just made up:
high !:P drunk !:P sober
Jehane and I moved from the bar to go talk to the Youtube guys, and since they may no have been apprised of our engagement, I took the opportunity to loudly re-tell the story, partly for the benefit of Jehane, because, you know, when she agreed it was really late and she was really drunk.
I pointed out to all and sundry that her "Sure, why not" is legally binding and that, were I a litigious man, I could use the courts to force her to go through with it. Everyone agreed this was a sane and rational position, and not the babblings of a possibly dangerous crazy person. This became a meme in the conversation, which I think may end up being a clever new strategy: I convince every guy in the world that Jehane really is engaged to me, and thus they'll all stay away from her, and she's pretty much left with no alternative but me, since I'm the only guy left.
I see no way in which this plan could fail. Triumph Napolean!
--
Honestly, though, it was the first time I'd really gotten to sit down and just talk to her, and I'm disappointed to say that she's every bit as charming and witty as I'd initially feared. Seriously, smitten, people. Ok. there, I admitted it. I know I've been dancing around the issue, and you've all been wondering, "Well, what does Wil REALLY think of this gal?" Now you know. (Next week on my blog: I reveal my secret feelings about George Bush!)
Seriously, I got to talk to her about what motivated her to make films, which was really neat. It's fun to crush on someone really brilliant. You get to stare at her AND talk to her! And drink! It's the tri-fecta!
I won't repeat our whole conversation, largely because I don't remember much and am even slightly worried that it was entirely hallucinated, but I do have a couple snippets: one was me telling her that I knew she had a busy life, and I didn't want our marriage to destroy that in her what made me admire her, and thus I'd resigned myself to seeing her only a couple months of the year, but that a couple months with her would be better than a lifetime with any other.
What, you think I was laying it on a little thick? Hey, look pal, I was drunk and I've got three nights to convince this gal I'm the greatest man in the world before she flies back to New York, ok? Let's see you do better after two mojitos not made with the good kind of rum. And a shot of Macallan 21-year. And a car bomb. And a flock of geese. And a brownie. Oh my god my head hurts.
A photographer of some note was there; he'd already photographed the wedding of another TED speaker this year, and he offered to do our wedding if I paid expenses. Damn! I've already lined up a photographer! I'd like the record to show that I am ACTIVE in the planning of this thing. I'm not just leaving it all to her, like that loutish guy on The Office. It's a partnership, dammit.
--
Jehane mentioned again that her dad read my blog after the last TED and really enjoyed being mentioned. So, hello again to you, future dad (I hope I can call you that), and may I again compliment you on your daughter-making abilities.
Seriously, patent that shit. Bottle it up and sell it. America needs you.
Labels: humor?, stories
Saturday, January 6
Ok, normally I don't participate in rumors, but this one is just too juicy to pass up. According to my source, Steve and co. are working on an "all-new" Keynote that they'll debut at MacWorld 2007. I'm told that there's a special team that's been working feverishly to make sure it's done by MacWorld, and that Steve himself is overseeing the whole effort, as he considers it "his baby."
If my sources are right, this new Keynote will be almost completely rewritten from the one we saw Steve debut just last year. Of course higher performance is expected to be demonstrated in this Keynote, plus the usual new transitions and flashier graphics. Nobody is talking about the biggest changes in this Keynote, but rumors abound of a possible iPhone tie-in, and even the new video iPod may be integrated into this new Keynote.
I asked if this is from the standard Keynote team, and my sources indicated that the core team is involved, but that Steve is pulling in people from "every part" of the company to assist, and to make sure that this Keynote helps show off the broadest range of Apple technologies possible.
In a new twist, when I asked whether this new Keynote would be given a standard version number or referred to by year, my source indicated that this would definitely be called Keynote 2007 -- he seemed surprised by the question, in fact. But then he indicated that he expected ANOTHER new Keynote before the end of the year! Apparently Steve is aiming to have a different Keynote for every major event he goes to this year, and he's told his team to work night and day to make sure there's always something new to show off in each one.
Others close to Steve have apparently tried to convince him that with Apple coming out with so many amazing new products this year, the impressiveness of this new Keynote itself won't matter much in the grander scheme, but Steve is still obsessed with making sure every detail is perfect. Apparently Steve was heard to say, "Look, it's me standing up there on stage, and I'm sure as hell not going to give my customers the same damn Keynote I gave them last year! We need new stuff to show them! This is a company-wide priority!"
Finally, it appears this version will EXCLUSIVELY be available over the web... when asked about it, my source indicated that MacWorld atttendees would get this new Keynote "for free" (actually, he said its price had already been put into the cost of their tickets, which I think is pretty sneaky), but that his feeling was that "only the most extreme Apple geeks would actually, say, go into an Apple Store and want to buy a copy of this Keynote." I can't say I agree! Every Keynote Steve has given us so far has been really great, and I expect this one to be no different.
Labels: humor?
Delicious Monster
