The New York Times recently noted that Lauryn Hill recently recorded a duet with reggae legend Bob Marley, dead since 1981. Celine Dion just did a duet with Frank Sinatra singing ALL THE WAY, even though the Chairman of the Board is also deceased. Natalie Cole recorded duets with her late father Nat King Cole.
On the face of it, I guess there's nothing so bizarre about this. The voices exist on tape or audio files, to combine your voice with theirs is either an homage or one more squeeze of a money machine. Ditto with Fred Astaire dancing with a vacuum cleaner, or John Wayne selling beer. It might be insulting, but on the other hand, if Fred Astaire were dancing today, and Hoover or whoever offered him enough money, he might do it. Ditto with the Duke and lager. These re-workings of historical figures are limited, however, because you're stuck with the actual image or actual voice of the actual person. Or are they? Who knows? We could see Hitler for Heineken in thirty years. Look at Hagar the Horrible in the Sunday comics. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't the historical Vikings horrible drunken raping marauders who kept innocent people trembling in fear for hundreds of years? But Hagar's kind of, I dunno, cute.
And when are we going to see the reverse of this trend? Instead of using dead celebrities to push live products, when are we going to see live celebrities reviving dead products? I want to see Calista Flockhar with digitally recreated bottles of Tab. Brad Pitt for Hai Karate! Eight tracks! Betamax videotape. Packards, Studebakers, Edsels. See, I think there could be new life for everything. I think it's maybe time for inanimate objects. After all, no offense, but Bob Marley, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Fred Astaire and John Wayne are pretty darn inanimate right now themselves, aren't they? I gotta go.
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Ian Shoales here. A new study has been making the media rounds. Dr. David Durning, psychology professor at Cornell and a grad student Justin Kruger have completed research indicating that incompetent people don't know they're incompetent.
This is because competence requires the recognition of competence. So people that aren't funny tell jokes that aren't funny, bores hold forth at dinner parties, not knowing what they're talking about.
The testers found that when they gave tests in logic, humor, and grammar, the ones who did the worst overestimated how well they'd done. This is all kind of obvious, and well and good-- I mean really, if somebody knew he was a useless bore, he'd stop being one, wouldn't
he?
But the day this report came out, I read about it on the front pages of
three different newspapers, and it was the subject of at least five different
radio features that I listened on my two and a half hour commute. So my question is, is this really news, or just media coasting. If it's just media coasting, are the media aware of their own incompetence, or when they ask the same questions of Justin Kruger over and over again, do they really think they're breaking new media ground. And the researchers. Are they truly competent researchers, or are they disguising their own incompetence with a thin veneer of topicality?
On the other hand, my own reactions to this story-- is it really a reaction to a study on competence, or a revelation to you of my own incompetence as a media savvy pundit. Or is it just getting stuck in a two and a half hour commute with nothing to listen to on the news but glib commentators chuckling and making pseudo-snide comments about their own competence, did it cause something to snap in my otherwise highly competent lifestyle. And this two and a half hour commute? Why were cars at a complete stop? I have no idea. So when it comes to gridlock anyway, ignorance is not bliss. I gotta go.
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USA Today recently informed me that a New Mexico teenager put his immortal soul up for auction on eBay on February 3, closing the bid on February 13 when the bidding hit five bucks. Apparently he got the idea from a SIMPSONS episode, in which Bart Simpson sold his soul for a comic book, or something.
Also, according to the Riverside California Press Enterprise, a kid from Canada tried to sell his soul on eBay. His soul got as high as twenty bucks and change before eBay decided that this was a bad idea. According to the ARIZONA REPUBLIC, "eBay has put a stop to people trying to sell their eternal souls for a little extra cash becasue the existence of a soul is not something
that can be documented, and therefore sold." Yeah? Well, tell that to
Satan, pal.
Capitalism is a strange beast. We used to sell a bird in the
hand, but today the two in the bush look pretty darn good, if you know what
I mean. Just the other day, I heard some entrepreneur on a radio discussion chat show explain the new economy as one that places
emphasis on increased value rather than increased profits.
In other words, a company that may at some point in the future deliver a doohickey worth zillions is worth more than a company that today produces a doohicky worth hundreds. I think. That seems to be spirit of the new
capitalism, its soul, if you will. I don't know where you sell a thing like that. Oh, wait a minute! I remember now! You sell it on Nasdaq! I gotta go.
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Ian Shoales. The Internet seems to be driving certain among us insane. And that would be capitalists.
See, the Internet used to be the exclusive province of cranks, I think, who only used it to swap complicated computer codes and flame one another in chat rooms. Then came the Web, and e-mail accounts for the masses, and we graduated to sending each other dirty jokes, funny lists, and warnings that funding for the NEA was going to dry up. Then we had dancing hamsters, the amorous Turk, and complicated if unlikely conspiracy theories. Now we have e-commerce, which is trying to shoulder everybody out of the way, with a flurry of buzzwords so thick, and changing so fast, the folks involved don't even know what they're talking about from one day to the next.
According to the February 16 Wall Street Journal, Venture Capitalists have ventured into marketing, a field in which they have no previous expertise. Over the holiday season, they managed to spend over a billion dollars on advertising, designed to make "their start-ups stand out from the crowd." The result, as everybody may dimly remember, was a bunch of weird teevee ads during the SuperBowl. Active Research, a Web research firm, found that nearly one fourth of Internet users pooled couldn't recall a single dot com ad. "Among those that were remembered,
Amazon.com ranked first, but no. 2-ranked Yahoo! Inc. was recalled by only 3% of respondents."
It must drive those guys crazy! Here they're trying to build brand awareness for dotcoms, whose precise is unclear-- something to do with increased functionality, scalable b to b outsourcing solutions, whatever that means. And what do they get for it? Mahir gets the hits, and they get panicky investors. And the world is rapidly tiring of dotcom mania. When you get down to it, how excited can you get about scalable outsourcing solutions? But Mahir! I kiss you! How many outsourced solutions will pucker up for you, that's the real question isn't it? I gotta go.
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Ian Shoales. We're such cattle, we really are. We've got to move in a herd-- well, that's not really true, we have to create imaginary herds for our fellow human beings so we can sneer at them for belonging to a category that we invented for them.
Hippies. Remember hippies?
For a brief period, hippies were perfectly content to smell flowers, take hallucinogens, have free love, and come to hold odd beliefs about Atlantis, without calling themselves anything at all. Then the media started calling them hippies. Then the world gathered round. "Stupid hippies," shouted the world. The hippies became self-conscious. They put their clothes back on. Instead of smelling flowers, they started arranging them. They put on Birkenstocks. Instead of rapping with their own stars over a doobie, they soberly consulted high end astrologers. Reagan became president.
Coincidence? I think not. What about yuppies?
Did yuppies think of themselves as yuppies? No. They were in competition with each other.
If they thought anything they thought, "I am a money making machine." "Nah ah, I'M a money making machine." Then the market crashed, and nobody cared about yuppies any more. Remember the Brat Pack? They were so embarrassed by the nickname that only Demi Moore became a superstar, and even she's viewed with mixed feelings. Generation X? They were depressed enough, before the big x got branded on their despondent pale foreheads. Then it got abbreviated to GenEx, and except for Johnny Depp and Uma Thurman, we've pretty much written all those people off too. Now we've got a new youth group, sort of, that's both counter-cultural and power capitalistic-- and that's the new entrepreneurial code monkey business to business value based have no life and proud of it class-- well, there you go I'm doing it myself.
This group has had a lot of names on the street, none of which has really caught on-- dot commies, webbies, what have you. TALK Magazine, the latest in a series of indispensable periodicals, courtesy of the category-less Tina Brown, has proclaimed that this new generation should be called "Yetties." Yetis? I had to go beyond the cover and read the article itself to figure that out. Young. Entreprenueurial. Tech based?
Get it? Well, I dunno. That's a long way to go for a nickname, in my opinion. Why not eekies? For e-commerce-- whatevers. And who are the readers of TALK that they would have the power to wave a magic wand and make the name, Yettis, stick to an entire class of people? Me, I call them maggies. I don't know who they are. People who look forward to the next issue of TALK or ESQUIRE, you know? Can you picture them? I sure can't. They're maggies. Beware! I gotta go.
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Pacific Bell, in an effort to promote its high speed DSL
internet service, has aired a series of commercials showing a
neighborhood disintegrating. Once normal families are shown snipping
each other's rhododendrons, fist-fighting in the driveways, all because
they're on line so much, they're slowing down each others' service.
What they accuse each other of being is "web hogs."
There's a concept that ten years ago would have had all us scratching our heads. Now we all know what it means.
Being a web hog is kind of the millennial equivalent
of bogarting the joint. But I still have to ask this question: if you
are in fact a drug or web user, and are trying to promote access to this
product through your product, if you are in fact encouraging people to
be web hogs, should you sneer at others for being web hogs? And who
should get off the line anyway? Normal phone line people with slow
modems? Should we hate them now? What about T-1 line users? Should they
get exclusive right of way to the fast lane, get out of the way, or get
run over? In other words, if being on line too much makes you a swine,
how does ownership of a DSL turn your ear into a silk purse? Just
asking. I gotta go.
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The San Francisco Examiner, last April 16, informed me that Generation Y
Is yearning for a simpler life. What a complicated statement. First of all, what is Generation Y? Is it Generation X version 2.0? Or rather Baby Boom version 6.9?
I'm second to none in my contempt for these tags that attempt to tar entire segments of the population with one broad stroke-- like soccer moms deadheads, and expatriate Cubans. But if there is a Generation X, and a Generation Y, does that mean ten years from there now will be a Generation Z, walking around with a cell phone implanted in their cheekbones, yearning for a simple life? And what then? Start over with Generation A? Or will it be Generation Double A?
It makes my brain hurt to think about it, if the media would just cut it out, I could devote what remains of my neural synapses to something more important, like giving satire a business model, or trying to convince Internet developers that yes, content is important, but the content should have, well, content, and I'm available.
And Gen Y is yearning for a simpler life. Well gosh, how simple can it get? Get up, got to work, work work work, go home, surf the Net, go to bed, dream of stock options becoming fully vested, wake up, double latte, some healthful juice-y blender thing, go to work, work work work. Maybe tape the Sopranos, if you think of it. Sure, you got games, you got cable, you got a nice little medium priced car, you got a sensible watch, the laptop, the cell phone-- but where's the Lear jet? Where's the limo? Where's the fabulous Hawaiian vacation package? Where's the mansion, and servants, and mistresses, and fiery Spanish lovers? Simplify? This generation's idea of a good time is emailing funny URLs to a pal. Generation Y's idea of fun is downloading. I think Gen Y should get more complicated, if anything. Oh, and they could use a new nickname. I gotta go.
(hear the realaudio version)
Oprah makes books hop off the shelf. Oprah struggles with diet, wins.
Oprah starts Oxygen. Oprah takes the high ground with her new improved television show. No more trash talk for Oprah. Oprah produces projects that she believes in. Awards swarm around her like moths on a porchlight. Oprah got an Angel network. She got a For a Better Life foundation. She fought Texas singlehanded, and drove those mad cattle back to the Gulf of Mexico. She is surrounded by adoring web sites. Even impoverished orphaned autistic children in a war zone get her love and attention. She makes habitats for humanity. Quick, name
The third party. Mother Theresa? Princess Di? That's right-- Oprah. She chose not to interview Monica Lewinsky. She can act too! She acts really good. Her sun is in Aquarius, her moon in Sagittarius. She appreciates the unique relationship between writer and reader. She loves the printed word. She's one powerful talk show hostess, let me tell you. Even David Letterman envies her power. Shape magazine's readers, when asked who they thought had the perfect body and the total package -- smart, compassionate, and spiritual -- guess who won?
That's right. The Queen of Talk. Oprah. Yet she's uneasy in the public eye. Even though she's had the Iowa septuplets and teen heart throbs Hanson on her show, she has mixed mixed feelings. Now she joins GQ, M, and E! the inexplicable cable network, in launching O, the Magazine, the Oprah Magazine. She has promised to grace every cover, I've been told, and rumor has it that not a product, article, or story goes between its covers that she has not herself personally vetted. Oprah wants inspiring stories. She wants stories about people who help others. She wants stories about people who stand up and do something when other people just sit back and watch. She wants stories about people who healed their own pain by reaching out to persons in need. She wants to share those stories.
We are not worthy of Oprah. Yet she has brought us to heights of ecstasy we had hitherto not even dared to imagine. Okay. Okay. I guess I love her, that's all. Oprah. I gotta go.
(hear the realaudio version)
Oprah makes books hop off the shelf. Oprah struggles with diet, wins.
Oprah starts Oxygen. Oprah takes the high ground with her new improved television show. No more trash talk for Oprah. Oprah produces projects that she believes in. Awards swarm around her like moths on a porchlight. Oprah got an Angel network. She got a For a Better Life foundation. She fought Texas singlehanded, and drove those mad cattle back to the Gulf of Mexico. She is surrounded by adoring web sites. Even impoverished orphaned autistic children in a war zone get her love and attention. She makes habitats for humanity. Quick, name
The third party. Mother Theresa? Princess Di? That's right-- Oprah. She chose not to interview Monica Lewinsky. She can act too! She acts really good. Her sun is in Aquarius, her moon in Sagittarius. She appreciates the unique relationship between writer and reader. She loves the printed word. She's one powerful talk show hostess, let me tell you. Even David Letterman envies her power. Shape magazine's readers, when asked who they thought had the perfect body and the total package -- smart, compassionate, and spiritual -- guess who won?
That's right. The Queen of Talk. Oprah. Yet she's uneasy in the public eye. Even though she's had the Iowa septuplets and teen heart throbs Hanson on her show, she has mixed mixed feelings. Now she joins GQ, M, and E! the inexplicable cable network, in launching O, the Magazine, the Oprah Magazine. She has promised to grace every cover, I've been told, and rumor has it that not a product, article, or story goes between its covers that she has not herself personally vetted. Oprah wants inspiring stories. She wants stories about people who help others. She wants stories about people who stand up and do something when other people just sit back and watch. She wants stories about people who healed their own pain by reaching out to persons in need. She wants to share those stories.
We are not worthy of Oprah. Yet she has brought us to heights of ecstasy we had hitherto not even dared to imagine. Okay. Okay. I guess I love her, that's all. Oprah. I gotta go.
(hear the realaudio version)
I was amazed the Internet boom went on as long as it did. Look what was being offered, after all. One of the companies that just went down in flames would, after you ordered them over the Internet, deliver pet food and supplies to your door. That's right. To your very door! Can you believe it? A company like that is worth fifty gazillion dollars a share, at the very least, don't you think?
Well, a lot of people did.
And I've heard that several of these dotcoms will bring you-- a book! Throw a CD into that order, and sign me up for the IPO! Wah, like, hoo. Well, at least I know what those companies do. The vast majority of dotcom offerings have names like Granix or Mormflack. The only thing I can tell
you about them is that they offer b-to-b scalable solutions in real time.
There are certain kinds of people who get all shivery when they hear that. Also, the words "functionality," "granularity," and "outsourced IT," when heard by these certain kinds of people on a cellular phone, can induce an orgasmic state. I've seen it.
Despite the obscurity of purpose of some, or the retail-on-amphetamine approach of others, dotcoms have devoured office space in San Francisco at such an alarming rate, you have to pay five hundred bucks a square yard, sign a twenty year lease, wire the building yourself, give the real estate agent stock options, and agree to have a Starbucks installed in every cube-- just to get on the waiting list for a floor in a residence hotel currently occupied by junkies.
I remember back in the eighties boom, all these windowless buildings
appeared suddenly by the airport with names like Maxitel and Globotech. I used to wonder about them, vaguely-- and then they were gone. Now these same windowless buildings have new names, like Globotel and Maxitech. What's the difference? Well, back in the eighties, these companies were just tax dodges, I think. The money boys would put money into them, take money out again, and hide behind a wall of paper until the inspectors went away. Today, these companies actually do things. They make "support tools." They form "strategic partnerships." They provide "customer interaction solutions that are innovative, and uniquely appropriate to the needs of individual client companies." In the eighties, workers didn't bother to show up. In the 21st century, workers NEVER GO HOME.
In the wake of these "corrections," why haven't people been throwing
themselves from windows in despair? Well, since most of the workspaces here are on ground level, the gesture wouldn't have much oomph. Also, the office buildings are climate-controlled, making it impossible to open the windows in the first place.
Back in the day, as we say out here, an entrepreneur could have thrown his PC
through the window and hurled himself after it, but nowadays everybody uses
laptops and Palm Pilots. Sure, you can throw them at a window, but they'll
just bounce back. But the real reason people aren't depressed out, well, first of all, they're mostly young and enthusiastic. Creepy, yes, but true. But the second most important reason is that the rumors, myths, and legends you have heard about the computer/Internet industry are also all true. These people don't NEED money.
They work, crash, and go back to work. When and if they socialize, they
talk about work. If they chat at work, it's to talk about work. The only thing they spend money is pizza and upgrades. In other words, you probably have to have a life before one can be ruined.
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