Subtle Sexist Symbolism

How would this image differ if Watch The Throne was the creation of two female artists?

So now that Hot 97 and Power 105 have finally stopped just straight up looping Watch The Throne (Drake much?), I think it's safe to start writing about it, at least in some form, just because it's not often that All Star Teams are put together and succeed in winning a championship.

But I'm not going to do that here. Instead, I just wanted to take a minute to highlight something that occurred at last night's Victoria's Secret Fashion Show (apparently I'm supposed to capitalize fashion and show).

An Open Letter to The Book Publishing Industry

Dear Book Publishing Industry,

I purchased The Fighter on DVD when it was released on Tuesday, 15 March 2011. More specifically, my wife Danielle purchased the "Blu-ray/DVD Combo + Digital Copy," as it was listed, on her day off, from Target. After tax, Danielle paid $24 (rounded). Please note that this was a first day sale price. The same package is now retailing for $30.

With the rise of Netflix/Hulu/Apple TV, my DVD purchasing ways have slowed, and just in time, as the five DVD towers in my living room, which currently hold 262 DVDs, are beginning to take on a life of their own. But from time to time, I still get the urge to buy the "real" copy of a film, especially when I see the Blu-ray/DVD/Digital combo.

Why?

Well, the Blu-ray part is obvious. The Standard DVD I probably won't ever use, but the Digital Copy is where I get excited--I open the iTunes Store on my computer, plug in the little code from the card that comes packaged with the two discs, and download the file. That file can then be synced to the various iPads and iPhones and iPods that live in my home, as well as streamed to my Apple TV.

Now, I could have purchased The Fighter, via iTunes, for $20 (this price will drop over time). I also could have rented it via iTunes for $5. I could have watched that digital copy in all of the same places as the $24 physical copy, and I (Danielle) wouldn't have even had to leave the house. But I didn't want the digital copy.

Why?

I don't know, really. Sure, it's partly because I still appreciate the quality of a Blu-ray disc of a film that I enjoyed as much as The Fighter, but is that really it?

Or is it that by going with the physical combo pack, it basically feels like I'm getting three copies of the film for the cost of one?

To be fair, it's probably a combination of both.

So, BPI, why am I going on about a DVD?

I'm a huge fan of David Foster Wallace. On 15 April 2011, his unfinished novel The Pale King will be released. Pre-orders for it have been live for about a month now. I haven't pre-ordered it, though.

Why?

When I read DFW's magnum opus Infinite Jest, I read the physical copy (soft cover). All 1,079 pages of it. As I read, I kept a finger tucked in the back of the book, a placeholder for where I'd left off in the footnotes, which, if you haven't read Infinite Jest, is an essential part of the experience (there are almost 100 pages of footnotes). I'd flip forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards, over and over, for the entire time it took me to finish the book, probably around two months.

As you can imagine, reading a book that weighs 1,106 grams (2 pounds, 7 ounces) in this manner is annoying, to put it mildly.

Enter the iPad.

I've read two of DFW's books on the iPad. Both contained footnotes. I was able to access them by touching a hyperlink in the text, which whisked me to the corresponding footnote in the digital "back" of the book. When I was done, I was able to press a return prompt, which took me back to (roughly) where I had left off (both ebooks had a weird quirk where if the footnote was at the top half of the page, it took me back to the previous page).

Needless to say, this made the experience that much more enjoyable, and it was much easier on the wrists.

Hopefully, you're starting to see my dilemma.

BPI, I know The Pale King contains footnotes. This alone should be enough to sway me towards pre-ordering the digital version.

But a part of me still loves the physical presence of a "real" book, especially one by one of my "Desert Island" authors, just like I still buy CDs from my Desert Island musicians, just like I still buy Blu-ray discs of my Desert Island films.

If only there were a way to combine the two urges.

If only the industry capable of this was hungry enough to realize that the winds of change are a-blowin', as iPads and Kindles and Nooks become more and more popular.

Enough of the nonsense, BPI--on 15 April 2011, why won't I be able to buy The Pale King Combo Pack?

Why?

I've tried to look at it from your aging perspective and it still doesn't make any goddamn sense. Presumably The Pale King Combo Pack would be a shrink-wrapped physical book, inside of which is a card that has three codes on it--one code for iBooks, one code for Amazon, maybe even a code for Nook users--which would allow the buyer to download the ebook of The Pale King from the virtual bookstore of their choosing.

If that doesn't work for you, this card could be inside a smaller shrink-wrapped pocket on the inside of the back cover, if you don't want to take the time (read: spend the money) to shrink wrap the book. Shit, the card could be kept at the register if you don't want to change the book at all.

And yes, BPI, it would be for "free," if by "free" you mean that the presence of this card does not increase the price.

I know, I know--tough for you to swallow.

But here's what I, the consumer, who at the age of 26 already has 4 full-sized bookcases in my one bedroom apartment, is trying to point out to you:

In the iBooks store, The Pale King costs $15, and this price will decrease over time.

In Barnes & Noble, on 15 April, after my Member Discount, I will probably pay close to $20 for the hardcover of The Pale King, and this price will increase eventually.

(And just so you know, and this isn't as fact-based as the other points here, but for the first time in a long time, I'm considering not renewing my B&N membership. Why? I don't do 100% of my book buying at B&N anymore. Not even close.)

And even after taking all of this into account, I would still gladly pay the $20 for the physical version (remember The Fighter on Blu-ray?)--but even more so if I got the ebook too.

Yes, BPI, I know what you're thinking--there's a good chance I'll still buy the hardcover version over the ebook, since I already expressed an unconscious desire to own the "real" version of an admitted favorite.

And I know what else you're thinking--why should you start giving me more product for the same amount of money?

Well, here's what it comes down to: Are you really willing to risk the $5? (Really more, because you don't profit from the B&N Member Discount.)

Better yet--are you willing to risk it for each member of the ever-dissipating group of people who think like me?

While I can't tell you for sure what I will do on 15 April, I can tell you 100% what I will not do:

Purchase both the physical copy and the ebook.

So I guess you're going to wait it out. In a way, that makes sense. No rush to judgement, and all that jazz.

But while you're waiting to see how it all shakes out, I'm going to be falling more and more for the iPad (I got the 2, BPI. So thin! So light!), and iBooks (which I recently started using on my iPhone too--you would be amazed how easy the Retina Display makes it), as well as all of the little conveniences the switch to ebooks brings to my obsessive reading life: Sick in bed? No problem. Wife asleep next to me? Who cares. Started reading on my iPhone, and want to continue reading on my iPad later? It syncs where I left off.

Cool, right?

(And I don't know if you noticed, BPI, but the iBooks catalog just got a whole lot deeper.)

Also worth noting, BPI--I never saw Winter's Bone, an Oscar contender that I absolutely loved, in the theater. I streamed a beautiful HD version of it to my Apple TV. For $5. I watched it on my 42" television, on my nice, comfortable living room couch, my wife next to me in her leather recliner.

Oh, and the new Kanye record? (I know, I know--I'm a slightly hipstery douche who still calls albums "records.") Got it it in the iTunes store. Eleven bucks. The second it was released to the public. Came with a really slick .pdf of the album artwork and all the liner notes, which I was able to check out on my 20" iMac.

This is not a letter asking you to set a precedent, BPI.

This is not a letter asking you to be the one who creates a New World Order.

I just want you to make it easier for me.

I just want to be able to justify spending more money on a less superior version of your product, because it is a product that I can't live without.

Musicians got the message.

The film industry even seems to be coming around.

Are you listening?

Sincerely,
A Reader

What A Writer Thinks When They See Poorly Branded Technology

Yesterday, Apple refreshed their MacBook Pro line, taking them from drool-worthy to We’re-going-to-get-high-and-listen-to-Miles-Davis (ding! Mad Men reference!). As per the norm, I’m admitting up-front that I’m not qualified enough to espouse on the what and why behind the increased computing power (if you’re anything like me, you’d benefit much more by getting yourself a MacBook Air and/or waiting until they make MBPs more like MBAs, but that’s another blog post). Instead, what I want to do is focus on one specific new feature.

--

Thunderbolt. It’s a new technology from Intel, new to Apple products, and is used, in the most basic sense, to transfer data. Dumbing it down even further, this is what Intel, and Apple, since they’re standing behind it, hopes will eventually replace (be used in conjunction with) your USB port and/or your FireWire port. For people who use external displays, it will also used for that. Thunderbolt is actually pretty neat, as you can see in this info from 9to5 Mac:

Light Peak is significantly faster than any of the other connection technology currently on the market. For comparison, Firewire 400 is 400 Mbps, Firewire 800 is 800 Mbps, USB2 is 480 Mbps, and USB3 (which never appeared on a Mac) is 3.2 Gbps. Light Peak comes in at a whopping 10 Gbps making it close to three times faster than USB 3, and over 10 times faster than Firewire 800. Although this won’t matter too much for Mac users, Light Peak can transfer an entire Blu-Ray movie in under 30 seconds.

Now you’re probably thinking: Wait, you said Thunderbolt. What is Light Peak?

Light Peak is what Intel used as a "code-name" for now-officially-branded Thunderbolt. So I should say, Thunderbolt is Light Peak.

Enter: my frustration.

Any decent writer knows the importance of a good name. If Fight Club had been started by a guy named Gerald Stricklenbocker, rather than Tyler Durden, would it have been quite as believable as an underground boxing cult that was capable of taking over the world? Exactly. The same principle is applied in product branding. Time and time again, products with “good” names sell better than products with shitty names.

Simple. So what’s so bad about Thunderbolt?

First, what we’re talking about here is data transfer. Which we (the unassuming computing public) think of in terms of--speed. Apple’s Thunderbolt info page confirms this. With a connection like this, we use words like “time,” and “seconds,” and “over”: “I’m transferring it over USB.”

However, Thunderbolt, which appears to be a portmanteau of “Thunder” and “Lightning Bolt,”*** which is confirmed by the symbol used in the logo and on the computer:

is comprised of two words that don't help us to instantly think of speed. We've got an auditory descriptor—after all, we hear thunder, and “bolt” which does nothing to help our sense of speed, because it is a visual descriptor--we see lightning.

***It was just pointed out to me that "Thunderbolt" is actually a word:

So while it is not a portmanteau, it still doesn't make sense.

So what about what we see when we hear Thunderbolt? The logo/icon above, compounds the confusion. If it looks familiar, it should:

OK, maybe not the last one, but the first two? That’s the symbol (international?) for DANGER! HIGH VOLTAGE!, which I suppose could be seen as a symbol of speed (maybe? like in the TOUCH THIS AND YOU'LL DIE FAST sense?), but I’m not sure it’s got the connotation that Intel/Apple wants, even if it could. To me, it has, and always will be synonymous with—DANGER! Even Marilyn Manson thought so:

And DANGER!, or Marilyn Manson, isn't what you want people thinking of before they plug in their $1,000 external monitor, or transfer their collection of 1,600 cat pictures.

--

So Thunderbolt doesn’t sound right, and it doesn’t look right. What would work better, you ask?

How about what Intel “code-named” it?

Light Peak!

Because the data transferred over it (OH MY GOD! REMEMBER THE TIME WE DRESSED THE CAT UP LIKE A POLICE OFFICER!) moves at the speed of—light!

When you use it you get—peak performance!

If you do a Google Image search for “Light Peak,” 5 of the first 20 results include this photo:

We still need an icon, right? That image, specifically the ends of the 4 wires, each bursting with light—would be goddamn perfect. I made an (incredibly) crude drawing of it:

It’s got marketing built into it, too:


It’s not USB 2, what we use now, or USB 3, what’s coming, it’s Light Peak—it must be faster—IT’S GOT 4 WIRES!

(And I’m sure people who know way more than I do about technology are shaking their head right now, but c’mon, you know it’s true—this is how people (your mom, my mom, his mom, her mom) think.)

Maybe, as usual, I'm putting too much thought into it.

Since there aren’t even any products on the market (yet) that can take advantage of Light P—Thunderbolt technology, it is impossible to speculate how successful it will be. Maybe it will be great, after all, speed junkies will be speed junkies, regardless of the name.

But technology isn’t thought-up and marketed for/to speed junkies. They will always buy the latest and fastest. Technology and the accompanying marketing strategies are crafted very, very specifically so that your mom and my mom and his mom and her mom will have an easy-as-pie choice to make when faced with something they don't truly understand, but know they need, all while not wanting to look stupid:

2? 3? 4! Yes, 4! That’s what I need!

The technology enthusiast in me is excited for the speed Thunderbolt promises.

But the writer in me can’t ignore the possibility that Thunderbolt might turn out to be a—power outage.

The Conversation In The Car Park Afterwards

If you don't know who Banksy is, I'm not going to be the one to tell you. There are plenty of people out there who know way more than I do.

What I am going to tell you is to check out the documentary he made, "Exit Through The Gift Shop."

"EXIT tells the story of Thierry Guetta, a French immigrant in Los Angeles, and his obsession with street art. The film charts Guetta's constant documenting of his every waking moment on film, from a chance encounter with his cousin, the artist Invader, to his introduction to a host of street artists with a focus on Shepard Fairey and Banksy..."

If that's not enough to get you interested, read this All These Wonderful Things interview, which was what inspired me to post about EXIT. One of my favorite bits:

All These Wonderful Things: What do you think that you discovered about the form of documentary while making this movie and is there any correlation to your other artistic work? Were you a fan of documentary prior to making the film and, if so, what were some of your favorite films? Did any of them influence what you did on EXIT?

B: I’m from a generation for whom documentary isn’t a dirty word. It doesn’t have to mean endless shots of penguins set to classical music. Michael Moore and Morgan Spurlock seemed completely punk to me. And the most punk thing of all was they brought their story undiluted to the multiplex.

Documentaries have an important role in recording culture that’s unlikely to make it into the history books. DOGTOWN AND Z-BOYS was the Bill of Rights for skate culture. Having said that, my film was never going to be an authoritative history of street art. Or even an authoritative history of the selling-out of street art. We realized halfway through the edit that the ending needed to be as unresolved as possible. I’ve learnt from experience that a painting isn’t finished when you put down your brush – that’s when it starts. The public reaction is what supplies meaning and value. Art comes alive in the arguments you have about it. If we’ve done our job properly with EXIT, then the best part of the entire movie is the conversation in the car park afterwards.

The bold is my addition, included because in this writer's humble opinion, that final sentence highlights what should be the aim of every film, regardless of genre, maybe even of art in general.

Oh, and because we're a visual culture, here's EXIT's trailer:



And if you don't check out Banksy's official site, you're a fool.

The MacBook Air--Now Made With Real Air!

You say you want to know how light the new MacBook Air is?

This light:



Boom!

(Actually, maybe even obviously, this isn't real. Here's the long-winded science behind why it isn't possible. You should read it if you want to feel smart. Or dumb, depending on your situation. Otherwise, here's the spoiler, as you probably guessed: really thin fishing line.)

Still cool, right?

Scenario Two

If you follow me on Twitter, you've probably noticed that I've been on a three week Mad Men binge. I watched when it premiered in 2007 and quickly gave up. At that point, it just didn't keep my attention. But the hype never seemed to die down, and when I recently saw the first season on sale for $12, I thought I would give it another shot.

Best decision I've made, televison-wise, in a long time.

--

On 17 January 2011, I tweeted:

"Watching Mad Men has allowed me to understand Sarah Palin. Every time I see one of her quotes, I hear Don Draper explaining it to her."

That thought came about because of this tweet by CNN's Political Ticker a few minutes earlier:

"Palin: 'I am not going to shut up' - http://bit.ly/hHZUZ6"

--

Since my tweet, I've been unable to let go of that thought--what if Don Draper was advising Sarah Palin?

Scenario Two is my attempt to answer that question.

--

(Sitting in Don Draper's office just one day after Gabrielle Giffords' shooting are Don Draper, Roger Sterling, and Sarah Palin. This is a post-meeting meeting. No smarmy interruptions from Pete Campbell. No artistic awkwardness from Sal Romano. Sarah wants "the facts, the meat separated from the pelt," as she has just put it.)

Sarah: So, boys, how are we going to fix this?

Roger: Lots of ice.

(Roger gets up and makes three drinks.)

Don: Sarah, you've got a problem.

Sarah: I sure do. There's a congresswoman near dead, and some civilians dead, and there's a mob of leftist lame-stream media lovers out there saying Sarah Palin, voice of the people, is to blame.

Roger: (speaking over his shoulder) Is it too soon to say that they've got you in their crosshairs?

Don: (lights a cigarette) Look, to a portion of the population, you're an American flag-wrapped mystic. Patriotism boiled down to its pure essence.

Sarah: You're darn tootin'.

Don: But there is another segment of society that views you as an incredibly disruptive force. A tornado of rhetoric.

Sarah: Communists. Socialists. Obama-lovers. History recessionists.

Roger: (hands out the drinks and sits down) Revisionists?

Sarah: (cuts her eyes at Roger) You ever see what happens when a Mama Grizzly gets corrected?

Don: (stubs out cigarette) My point is this--in politics, there will always be--division. You can either try your hardest to get your choir to sing louder. Or. You can switch the other choir's sheet music when they're not looking.

Sarah: Are you saying we should release some type of album or song?

Don: (lights a cigarette) Sarah, why are you telling me to shut up?

Sarah: I'm not telling you to shut up.

Don: (stubs out cigarette) Roger?

Roger: (feigns spilling some of his drink as he swallows) Did I just hear somebody tell Don to shut up? Nobody tells Don to shut up! I'm voting for Don because his voice is my voice and I sure as hell won't be silenced.

(Roger mimics voting for Don.)

Don: (turns to Sarah) There's no rule that says that you need to be told to shut up before you can say that you aren't going to shut up.

Sarah: …

Don: (lights a cigarette) The power of the American people lies in how and when we react. What we lack in our ability to be proactive, we make up for in our reactive skills. Your place in politics is clear--you're a reactionist. And good for you. People love that because that's what they are. You thrive off of the judgment of already-made decisions, just like the rest of us.

Roger: (standing at the bar again, shaking a cocktail shaker) The communists were proactive. Look where that got them.

Don: The American people don't want some slick, proactive, forward-thinking hero. Being proactive means thinking ahead. Thinking ahead means sitting down and listing all of the possible negative outcomes. Possible negative outcomes breed fear. Fear paralyzes.

Sarah: You ever see a Mama Grizzly paralyzed by fear?

Don: (stubs out cigarette) Exactly.

Roger: I once saw Marion Turnbow paralyzed by fear. But I had just dropped my pants. And this was after a bottle of scotch, so--

Don: When people vote, they don't vote on the issues or religion or flag burning's legality or the size of the deficit. They close the shade, stare up at the names, and think, "Yeah, I could have a beer with that guy." Women? They say, "In a moment of weakness? Sure, I would sleep with him."

Roger: Reagan? After a speech? For Christ's sake--I would have slept with him.

Don: (lights a cigarette) The way I see it, this all plays out in one of two ways. Scenario one--you admit you were wrong. You appear with babies of all races and do your best impersonation of--humble. You light some memorial candles. You donate a star in someone's name. And sure, maybe there will be some media coverage of how sincere you are, and how apparently there is a side of you that appears willing to--do the right thing, whatever that means.

Sarah: Humble?

Don: (stubs out cigarette) Then there's scenario two.

Roger: (rubbing his hands) He always saves the good stuff for scenario two.

Don: (lights a cigarette) You go out there and you tell them that the truth cannot be silenced. That freedom never takes a day off. That injustice is always lurking. And that you. Are not going. To shut up. Because the day that you shut up is the day that injustice strikes. The day you shut up is the day that freedom finally calls in sick. The truth? Raped and left for dead the day that you shut up.

Roger: (shaking his head and smiling) See what I mean?

Sarah: I still haven't heard who exactly is telling me to shut up. Because Mama Grizzlies--

Don: No one--is telling you to shut up. And that's exactly why you are going to respond, clear as day, that you are not going to shut up.

Roger: Everybody check your pockets.

Don: (stubs out cigarette)

Sarah: So that's it? I am not going to shut up?

Don: Never. Every time, that is what you'll say. I am not going to shut up. It will be physically impossible for you to shut up. You shutting up would be like a shark ceasing to move.

Sarah: Me shutting up would be like--a Mama Grizzly not fighting for her cubs!

Don: (half-mouthed smile)

Roger: (claps his hands together) All this telling someone to shut up talk--I need to call my wife.

(Everyone laughs. They all stand up and shake hands.)

Sarah: Mr. Draper, Mr. Sterling. A pleasure, as always.

Roger: Glad to have helped with this--momentary distraction.

Sarah: (raises her fist in the air) I am not going to shut up!

Roger: (points at her and winks) That'a girl. Just don't teach that to my daughter.

(Roger puts his arm around Sarah's shoulders and they both walk out.)

(Don falls back down into his chair, emotionally exhausted. He lights a cigarette and contemplatively looks at the wall across the room, on which a vintage map of the earth is hanging. The map's maker must have been quite the patriot, as the USA's landmass is totally out of proportion with the rest of the world. It is almost the same size as Africa. Don drags on his cigarette. The first jangly, reverb-soaked notes of Aretha Franklin's "Chain of Fools" plays.)



(Cut to black.)

(The song continues to play.)

(The credits roll.)

Blood-Free: Technological Tales of Great Customer Service

Click all pictures to enlarge

“If it bleeds, it leads.”

This is the official/unofficial mantra of the news that we consume in 2010. Mainstream, pundits, bloggers--they all follow it, sometimes unknowingly.

Positive news doesn’t have the same traction as negative news. I get it. A grizzly murder gets, and holds, our attention quicker and for longer than the goings-on at the local community center.

It’s bad enough that this modern-day yellow journalism has infected our political system. But now, tech news, the one place I’ve been able to go for people reporting happily on the things they love, is being destroyed.

--

We all know the story of how Gizmodo purchased a potentially-stolen iPhone 4 prototype. They took pictures of it, dissected it, posted about it, got a bunch of page views, got some coverage out of it, got a lawsuit out of it, got shunned, and probably will always be shunned, by Apple, and we all cared for like, two days, that is until another radical conservative got caught on the wrong end of a gloryhole, or that cancer-free guy who rides bikes a lot peed out liquid steroids, or something shinier and brighter came along.

In the words of Shawn Carter: on to the next one.

Right?

Wrong.

Instead, something strange happened. Gizmodo, quite the influential tech blog, historically a place deemed a safe haven for Apple fanboys (In some ways, most tech blogs have at least some portion of the Apple fanboy gene), became decidedly--anti-Apple. Naturally, they covered the fact that Apple was preparing to sue the pants off of Gawker media, their parent company, with a fair amount of venom.

But then, the iPhone 4 came out. Like, for real.

And AntennaGate happened. (Sorta)

And Gizmodo decided to hit Apple. Hard.

And they kept going and going--anti-Apple posts every day, or what seemed like every day.

It got so bad that during the AntennaGate press conference, when Steve Jobs revealed that, yes, the iPhone 4 was dropping more calls than the 3GS, Gizmodo tweeted:

Yikes. Data says the iPhone 4 drops more calls than the 3GS.

And that would have been fine, except in the next breath, Jobs pointed out that the “higher” dropped call number was something like 1 in every 100, a microscopic amount. I tweeted in response:

@Gizmodo Probably should have waited to hear that it's less than 1% worse. You guys are a joke. Seriously.

It was clear that Gizmodo, now frothing at the mouth to make Apple look bad (an interesting stance to take, considering they’re the ones who purchased a potentially stolen prototype and displayed it for the world to see, but maybe I’m the crazy one), had given up sticking to that basic journalistic tenet of waiting for the entire story to play out before reporting on it, and even worse, taking a stance on it, putting them in the precarious spot of becoming the Andrew Breitbarts of tech journalism. And it is only recently that they seem to have eased up on the gas a bit.

Anyway, I’ve gone on for too long to make my point. Besides, Gizmodo isn’t the only tech site guilty of this practice, of letting “if it bleeds, it leads” style journalism become the norm.

So what’s an indie blogger to do?

--

I got my iPhone 4 on Wednesday, 7/28. Naturally, after syncing, I tested the death touch and the death grip. Neither really seemed to work, but I have good coverage in my immediate sphere of influence. But on Saturday, 7/31, after having the phone for not even a full three days, right smack in the middle of getting my fiancee to her surprise wedding shower, I realized I was going to have to take my iPhone 4 back to Apple.

The problem wasn’t antenna-related, though.

The phone--it clicked.

Back up--I like my iPhone clean and as smudge-free as possible. I have those black Apple microfiber cloths everywhere--a couple at home, one at work, one in my messenger bag. Sitting on the couch, trying not to be too openly nervous about the impending party, I went to rub the back glass plate of the phone, as beautiful as it is fragile, I suppose. When I pressed down near the micro SIM tray, it felt, and sounded, like the whole thing--clicked. Since the surface is reflective, you couldn’t see the piece actually depress, but you could hear it, plain as day--a click. Like a muted, but sharper, version of the sound you get after pressing the die-encased-in-a-plastic-bubble in that board game Trouble.

Not good.

I did it for Danielle a couple of times, just to make sure I wasn’t going crazy. She heard it.

Not good.

I decided that it was possible that the SIM tray wasn’t slotted in just right. When I tried to pop it out, and couldn’t without having to put a severe amount of force behind the SIM ejector, I realized something was wrong.

A quick search online came back with a couple of hits on the Macrumors forums about people having the same problem. One person said that they’d already brought the phone in to Apple and were given a new one on the spot. Another said they would eventually bring it in, but that the low stock of iPhone 4’s led them to believe that they would be better off waiting.

I, anal technology bitch that I am, knew that I would not be able to live with this clicking phone. I clicked that thing so many times that day--I was clicking it while my wife-to-be opened up the china we’ll someday serve Thanksgiving dinner to our family on.

After a wonderful party, and after unloading a ridiculous amount of gifts, I sat down to make an appointment at the Genius Bar for the next day, Sunday. Danielle saw what I was doing, and, in one of the thousands of instances where she proves just how much she knows me, suggested I make the appointment for that night, if one was available, rather than wait until the next day.

(Understand--we were both exhausted. Dead tired. But she knew I would not be happy about this all night. Hands-off, fellas.)

So I made an appointment for 8pm that night. We went off to the Apple store, got there early (were thanked for this) and within 15 minutes, I was holding a new iPhone 4.

Getting it involved me clicking the back plate twice for the guy who helped me, who after the two clicks said, “Yeah, we’re gonna need to get you a new phone.”

And this is why I am loyal to Apple products.

Because I can take their products directly to them. And if something is genuinely wrong with it, they fix it. And if it’s something that can’t be fixed, they give me a new one.

That’s what I’m paying the premium for.

And it goes without saying that the guy couldn’t have been nicer. We chatted--he told me that he had heard about this issue, but had only seen it himself once before. We joked about AntennaGate. I asked--just to be sure--that my first iPhone 4 would be wiped. He said he would bring it back out and let me wipe it myself, just so I could rest easy that night

(All of this took just enough time for Danielle to try out the Magic Trackpad, give me the thumbs-up, have me try it, love it, and purchase one. Literally. Like, she walked back with it in her hands before I could finish signing the work order forms. Damn you, Jobs!)

Good news--my new iPhone 4 doesn’t click.

--

Not everything Apple makes is perfect. The mixed reception the iPhone 4 “bumper” case has received highlights an area where 3rd party companies are far ahead of Apple--iPhone cases, a lucrative market, I’m sure. I know my household has spent a decent chunk of change on them, not to mention time seeking out the latest and greatest.

Speck is one of those companies--they create great products. I still think their “Candyshell” iPhone case is one of the few out there that adds to the aesthetic of the phone, while adding a minimal amount of bulk, and still remains a snug fit on the phone while not rendering it impossible to get off. I’ve suggested Speck cases to family and friends, and they’ve all reported good things.

So it came as a surprise when both of the Speck “Candyshells” in my house broke:

To be fair, Danielle broke both of them, and she puts pretty heavy wear on her phone. But still, to break in the same exact way, at about the same time, highlights a design/manufacturing flaw.

Danielle, the queen of returning shit, called up Speck and asked if she could get her money back. If we still had the receipts and original packaging, this would have been possible. Seeing as we bought both of these cases about eight or nine months ago, this wasn’t an option. Speck suggested that they send us two new Candyshells, certainly a fair compromise. But then Danielle, (remember, I told you, she can return anything) told them how we already had one iPhone 4 in the house, and would soon be upgrading the other 3GS, and so would it be possible to exchange the broken Candyshells for iPhone 4 cases?

Just to recap--she asked to exchange two broken, used, iPhone 3GS cases, with no receipt or packaging, for two brand new cases, completely different models, during a time when iPhone 4 cases are at a premium (Speck is one of the companies that Apple is using in their free case program).

Naturally, Speck said, “Sure.”

I couldn’t believe it.

They e-mailed her a list to pick from. We picked. The cases came in a week.

The GeoMetric and the Fitted. Still can’t believe it.

Maybe that’s why I took the pictures that I took.

Well, that and I mean, who doesn’t love iPhone porn? Check out the complete gallery here:

Apple & Speck Demonstrate Great Customer Service (8/6/10)

--

At a time when tech news, most news, really, is so negative, so reactionary, I think it’s important to point out that good does exist out there. That customer service, good customer service, can still be found.

It doesn’t mean that companies can ship faulty products, although I don’t see Speck’s cases or the iPhone 4 as faulty, but it is reassuring to know that I’m spending money not just on a piece of plastic or glass or aluminum, but on the unwavering guarantee behind it.

And I hope Gizmodo eventually finds its way back to where it once was, because they’re too good otherwise to ignore.

As for Artificial Night, well, we're nothing but a mere grain of sand in the desert of blogs, but for today, at least for one day, there’s no blood on my hands, or on your screens.


More soon,
JS

Christmas In October

For us Apple whores, the note above usually results in a fluttering of the heart, because it means new toys are on their way to the Apple online store.

The "yellow sticky" went up this morning and the heart flutters were worth it, because today was damn near Christmas in October.

Rumors have been floating around for weeks now--updates to the iMac, MacBook, Mac mini, and the Mighty Mouse.

But as anybody who's waiting to buy their iTablet can tell you, rumors have an evil way of, well, not being true all of the time. Let's see how it all panned out.

First up:





Those would be shots of the new iMac, which now comes in 21.5" and 27" inch flavors. 27" goddamn inches. Wow. Check out Apple's in-depth look as well as Gizmodo's.

Next up:





A newly-designed MacBook. Updated screen, updated trackpad, updated enclosure, amongst other features. Check out Apple's in-depth look as well as Gizmodo's.

Batting third, my personal favorite:





A mouse that can only be described as sexy, although Apple thought better of it and called it the Magic Mouse. After reading about it and watching the videos, I'd describe it as a cross between a mouse and a trackpad (right on pace with the rumors, of course). I absolutely will be ordering one the first minute that I can. Check out Apple's in-depth look as well as Gizmodo's.

And last, but certainly not least:



An updated Mac mini. Check out Apple's in-depth look as well as Gizmodo's.

--

So what have we learned here?

Apple is damn bad at keeping secrets, that's for sure.

But really, how could you contain something like this?

Also, it's important to note that I only scratched the surface here in terms of what's new in each product. I also didn't meantion the new Apple Remote, as well as the upgrades made to the Time Capsule and Airport Extreme.

Now, the question becomes: how do I possibly stop myself from buying one of each?

If only my credit cards could post a sticky on themselves that read: "Be back soon."


More soon.

JS

I'm Being Told It's For Sale

I'm always hesitant to jump on the bandwagon for causes.

Once you do, you're lumped in with whoever else is on board, and as we all know, the world is full of idiots, which means that there's a good chance people will think that I'm an idiot, a notion I fight long and hard every day to disprove.

But I watched a video today, and it got me thinking, and by the end, I was convinced.

--

Anybody who knows me knows I went through an intense energy drink phase. I liked 'em cold, I liked 'em big, and I liked 'em often. Fruit juice added, extra vitamins added, artificial coloring--it didn't matter. My pee stank, I got the shakes, and I was awake for a longer portion of the day.

What could be bad?

Costco carried two types--Red Bull and Monster. Red Bull was more expensive and contained less, um, energy than Monster, so Monster it was.

And I was faithful to Monster until I finally realized that sucking down 54 grams of sugar per sitting probably wasn't the best idea.

Now, I've relaxed--literally and figuratively. I'll get a sugar-free Red Bull from time-to-time, but otherwise, I'm sticking to coffee.

So what does this have to do with Rock Art Brewery?

It has to do with a letter, a Cease and Desist order, actually, that Rock Art Brewery's founder, Matt Nadeau, received from Monster's lawyers.

Monster wanted Rock Art Brewery to stop selling one of it's beers--The Vermonster--because people "would be confused with the two products."

Nadeau sent back a response saying he understood the issue and would give up the rights to "The Vermonster" in the energy drink category--certainly a fair agreement--since he didn't operate in the energy drink world, nor Monster in the alcoholic beverage world.

But then, Monster said, "Thanks, but no thanks."

Nadeau was told:

The energy drink category was never the concern to my client; it is that my client would now like to enter the alcoholic beverage market.

And so the battle began.

Nadeau has been told by numerous trademark lawyers that Monster doesn't have a case here, that it is clearly a "nuisance lawsuit."

But they advised that he give up and just change the name, because in the end, Rock Art Brewery would lose.

Monster has the ability (read: money) to drag the case out in court for so long that Rock Art Brewery will have to tap out eventually. We're talking about a company with nine employees--and that's counting the founder and his wife.

So as far as I can tell, there's three options: give money to Rock Art Brewery, or don't give money to Monster, or both, which is my plan.

And while you're at it, watch this video put together by Nadeau:



My favorite quote:

We're going to continue this for as long as we can. I'm a man of principles and its principles at stake, its liberty at stake, its justice that's at stake, and I'm being told it's for sale. I don't buy it.

I couldn't agree more.

Anybody--and I don't care if you're a liberal or a conservative or a Democrat or a Republican--should be mad as hell about this.

It's time to take a stand.

Time to jump on a bandwagon.

For once, I'm taking the bait.

(Just one thing--if you're an idiot, please, don't jump with me.)

(Thanks.)


More soon.

JS

Trailers, Trailers, Trailers

There's a couple (or three) great trailers for upcoming new TV show seasons floating around, and I'm getting tired of looking them up on YouTube/Twitter, so I figured for my sanity and yours, I'd just compile them all here.

-First up, Top Chef Season 6:

Unfortunately, TV.com seems to be the only spot that has this, and for some unknown reason, they won't let me embed the video. Part of me wants to say, "Fuck them," and not give them the traffic, but the clip is too good--looks like Top Chef might be back and ready to rebound from the "Jax Fish House" experiment. And putting it in Las Vegas is smart. It's the new American culinary hot spot, which means lots of great guest judges, and think of all the gambling-themed challenges they'll dream up. And could Jen Z. be any hotter? Anyway, here's the clip.

-Next is Season 2 of Fantasy Factory:



This isn't great television. It's not even as good as Rob & Big was. But there's just something about watching a grown-man act 100% the way most of us, at 16 or 17, said we'd act if we had money when we became an adult. And I'm taking copious notes now so when the E True Hollywood Story of Rob Dyrdek premieres, I won't be caught off-guard.

-Last is Season 2 of Nitro Circus:



I don't even watch Nitro Circus. I just think this trailer is amazing. My two favorite parts? Knoxville's laugh at the 1:11 mark and Bam Margera's answer to the question, "You scared?" at the 1:20 mark. Good song too. I think that's the song I want playing when Danielle and I make our entrance at the wedding reception.


More soon.

JS

How I Helped Treat Spinal Cord Injuries By Drinking Powerade

Danielle gets great joy out of mocking my love of all things new and blue. Sports drinks, candy, shampoo, candles--it doesn't matter. No matter how little the chance the product has of being successful, all the designers need to do is slap some neon blue on the packaging, maybe even back it with a little black, and it's only a matter of time before I buy it. Here's a sample of a conversation we've had many times before:

Me: Danielle, I picked up a new body wash when I went to CVS today.
Danielle: Oh, nice. What is it?
Me: ManScrub. Locker Room scent. It smells so good.
Danielle: Oh! And what a surprise! It's--blue!
Me: Is it? Wow, I didn't even notice that.
Danielle: *laughing* Sure you didn't.

So it was with a certain amount of validation that I read this article today, which I found on CNN. Here's the lead:

The same blue food dye found in M&Ms and Gatorade could be used to reduce damage caused by spine injuries, offering a better chance of recovery, according to new research.

I knew there was something to blue!

The article is actually pretty interesting--it goes on to explain how this is research piggy-backing on older research:

In August 2004, scientists revealed how Adenosine triphosphate, which is known as ATP and described as the "energy currency of life," surges to the spinal cord soon after injury occurs.

Researchers found that the sudden influx of ATP killed off healthy cells, making the initial injury far worse. But when they injected oxidized ATP into the injury, it was found to block the effect of ATP, allowing the injured rats to recover and walk again.

Of course, this proved to be problematic for two reasons--first, sticking a needle into a spinal cord didn't seem like a viable option, and second, injecting oxidized ATP into a human's bloodstream is too dangerous anyway.

What that team also discovered at the time was that:

...the spinal cord was rich in a molecule called P2X7, which is also known as "the death receptor" for its ability to allow ATP to latch onto motor neurons and send the signals which eventually kill them.

Nedergaard knew that BBG could thwart the function of P2X7, and its similarity to a blue food dye approved by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in 1982 gave her the confidence to test it intravenously.

And that's where that little blue guy pictured up above comes in. After receiving BBG, the rats can walk--with a limp--again. And the article points out that while this doesn't mean we'll be able to totally cure all spinal injuries, it certainly bodes well for the future in terms of small improvements, which can mean the world to many patients. Nedergaard says:

"Even a moderate improvement in functional performance of the patient is a big, big event for these patients...They can control their bladder. If they can just take small steps instead of sitting in a wheelchair all the time, it's a tremendous benefit for these patients."

So for all the guys out there who find themselves gravitating towards that new flavor of gum or deodorant scent, don't feel bad.

You're not playing right into the marketers hands.

You're helping to support spinal cord injury research.


More soon.

JS

What Wouldn't You Do?

Been super busy at work as the summer gets into full swing. Just some random thoughts:

-Has anyone seen the new Klondike commercial? The one where the guy gets waxed, first on his chest, and then his gens? And apparently "this is what he would do for a Klondike bar?" I tried to find a video but no such luck--feel free to send along if you find it. I've got some thoughts on this one:

First of all, Klondike bars suck. It's an ice cream square with chocolate on it. Big fucking deal.

Second, I think it's time to move past the "What would you do for a Klondike bar?" tag line. When Chester Cheeto starts sporting a new look, I think it's time to re-evaluate your marketing decisions. As a matter of fact, isn't that just the perfect in-a-nutshell moment for the US economy? Could there be a more obvious waste of money? The only reasonable explanation that Klondike still uses that stupid line would be that they have no marketing division, which you know is not the case. So really, is that what they are paying people to do? Come up with one new slogan in the past twenty fucking years?

Third, and most importantly, who in their right fucking mind wants to associate a delicious ice cream treat--with pubic hair? Or getting pubic hair (or any hair for that matter) ripped out from the root with hot wax?

It's downright infuriating.

-I'm not one to comment on celebrities and their faux-lives and their faux-problems and their faux marriages to other faux-people, because I think that addressing it as a real issue is where the problem starts. But I've seen this being mentioned lately and as someone who has a few young girls in my immediate family, I've got to say it:

Does this chick look fat to you? Fat? Get real people. While I think it's somewhat of a joke that Kate Winslet is the spokesperson for "women with curves," now we're going after Miley Cyrus? Because someone on Twitter said her thighs jiggle when she wears a bathing suit or some bullshit like that? This chick is what, 16? 17? Are we at that point as a society?

If so, I'm close to checking out and finding a different one.

-Finished Pygmy last night. Final decision?

Great book.

I wish I had time for a more in-depth review, but I don't, so I suggest you just go out and pick it up. Don't quit until at least page 50. Learn Pygmy's language. You won't be sorry.

Oh, and Chuck is #3 on the Times Best Sellers. Look at the other authors around him--Alexander McCall Smith, David Baldacci, Mary Higgins Clark, Stephenie Meyer (sic). These people don't sell books, they sell a brand, a product.

Kudos to Chuck and his followers.

-Could the Yankees be hotter right now? Really though, could they? Tex, how do you like hitting behind A-Rod? Little different than Nick Swisher, right?

Now it's time to unseat those division-leading Red--I mean, Blue Jays.

More soon.

JS

Nothing Is Safe

I was watching TV two nights ago and I saw a commerical that I had to stop and snap a few shots of:

Apparently it wasn't enough for Disney to put their branding on sheets, pillow cases, blankets, wallpaper, clothes, lunchboxes, halloween costumes, movies, fast food, television, candy, juice, and god knows what else they've managed to convince kids is necessary and/or better because it's got their favorite animated character on it.

Now they're coming for your kid's eggs.

Part of me thinks this is better than pushing Happy Meals to little McNugget fiends by using Disney tie-ins. But at least those are toys. Kept well, they are collectibles. They are tangible. These eggs have literally been stamped, packaged, and put in the dairy section next to the "normal" eggs, and sold as something different.

And what's worse is that kids will think that the eggs that are cracked out of these Disney shells will cook up looking like the cyclops Mickey shown in the commercial.

There's nothing wrong with this and everything wrong with this.


More soon,

JS