The iPad is out and the verdict is in. Congratulations, Apple. You’ve produced a brand new whtatchamacallit. And ain’t It a beauty?
Like most of the world, I haven't had a chance to smudge one of these things with my fingerprints. So in true pundit tradition, I can comment freely. There are a number of questions worth asking.
What's it really for?
It seems to be a place to keep all your media in one cool, shiny basket. Descriptions suggest that it's a stay-at-home or perhaps pack this instead of your laptop device. We know that it's particularly good for visual things, such as photographs and YouTube downloads. We know it is hard to look at in direct sunlight despite its e-reader apps for books newspapers and magazines. We know that publishers are starting to line up to partner with Apple. (Perhaps there's more to launching the iPad on Easter than we thought.)
Will it be a Kindle killer or netbook killer or chiller theater killer?
In the words of Faust, go know. It depends upon what the market, you know consumers, the public, people really want in a media device. Those who recall the videotape wars might also remember Betamax turned out to be superior to VHS. A lot of good it did Sony. It seems the public preferred VHS because it consistently offered more recording and viewing time than Betamax. Speaking of VCRs, the public also prefer to rent rather than buy videos, despite some very strong arm tactics by the movie studios. So what traits will the public want in a media tablet? We won't know until they actually begin experiencing the ipad.
Will it be a skyrocket or a dud?
This is the old we love a success and hate a loser question. Beats the heck out of me. I'm guessing it will go to something not only cool and useful but I suspect the e-reader part will assume minor consequence of all the way. So, will it be Godfather 2 or Godfather 3? It may have all the right ingredients but do they thrill or do they smell? The answer lies not in the Gospel, according to Apple; but in the privacy of your own homes.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
The Year of Living Haphazardly
Writers are expected to know things these days. It's unfortunate; but that's the way it is. This is just hunky-dory for specialists. But I’m a generalist. My specialty is ignorance -- -abundant ignorance- the finely honed ability to not know stuff. This is linked to a delightful, crazed fear of not wanting to be found out. I interview my sources so exquisitely that even I understand what they’re talking about. And, of course, then I have to express these newly-found nuggets with some degree of clarity.
Life, at its purest, has been one long string of "no kiddings” and "whatdoyaknows" and "oh shinys".
Now that publishing is in ruins, I'm thinking, golly gee this would be a fine time to write a book. I don’t have to fuss, fret or sweat about the perfect subject to pursue. I’m the serendipity guy, I know the idea will come when it will come — which means a good book idea is just like death and life's other surprises.
One genre that attracts writers who are avowed know-nothings is the "year of" category. The best known example probably is Julie and Julia , the story of one woman's determination to cook all the recipes in Julia child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in one year and how this quest changed her (Julie’s) life. There's also The Year Of Living Biblically and The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World (a/k/a the year of reading Encyclopedia Britannica).
I like the ignorance part . . .very much; and the blog part. But sniffing around one little corner of arcana for a year feels like a journey through one’s own digestive system, using the exit as a starting point. But enough about publishing
There actually was a chance that I could do "My Life As Citibank." It seems that through some expert bit of data mining Zoom info concluded that my name addres. . phone . and fax numbers belonged to Citibank. I had been getting some strange hangups from odd sources. But I didn't really know why until a call came from a collection agency. The very name of this company on my caller ID freaked me out. But no.. The fellow on the other end of the phone was looking for someone in a suit. For a while I had to turn down some attractive business propositions, a few loan requests, and explain to someone else that no I wasn't the IT department. I alsowas able to bask in the description that follows:
Mildly annoying? Yes! But frankly this episode, although not quite over, offered little in the way of inconvenience. There were a few more hangups and an occasion or two where I administered disappointment counseling. Otherwise, nothing rose to the level of Julie and Julia. So there is no "year of" juicy subject matter for me. There's just this little matter of my living my life.
I am embarking on "The Year Of Living Haphazardly."
The good news is there’s no book potential in it whatsoever.
It will cover the people, events, ephemera, notions, trends, activities and assorted whatnots I encounter in the course of my writing life. As such, it will be a kind of laboratory. Or maybe not.
Life, at its purest, has been one long string of "no kiddings” and "whatdoyaknows" and "oh shinys".
Now that publishing is in ruins, I'm thinking, golly gee this would be a fine time to write a book. I don’t have to fuss, fret or sweat about the perfect subject to pursue. I’m the serendipity guy, I know the idea will come when it will come — which means a good book idea is just like death and life's other surprises.
One genre that attracts writers who are avowed know-nothings is the "year of" category. The best known example probably is Julie and Julia , the story of one woman's determination to cook all the recipes in Julia child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in one year and how this quest changed her (Julie’s) life. There's also The Year Of Living Biblically and The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World (a/k/a the year of reading Encyclopedia Britannica).
I like the ignorance part . . .very much; and the blog part. But sniffing around one little corner of arcana for a year feels like a journey through one’s own digestive system, using the exit as a starting point. But enough about publishing
There actually was a chance that I could do "My Life As Citibank." It seems that through some expert bit of data mining Zoom info concluded that my name addres. . phone . and fax numbers belonged to Citibank. I had been getting some strange hangups from odd sources. But I didn't really know why until a call came from a collection agency. The very name of this company on my caller ID freaked me out. But no.. The fellow on the other end of the phone was looking for someone in a suit. For a while I had to turn down some attractive business propositions, a few loan requests, and explain to someone else that no I wasn't the IT department. I alsowas able to bask in the description that follows:
Company Profile: Citibank Ltd.
Website: www.citibank.com. Phone: (212) 751-6680. Fax: (603) 720-8453 ... Citibank is the world's biggest provider of private banking, and specializes in ...
www.zoominfo.com/Search/CompanyDetail.aspx?...cs..
Mildly annoying? Yes! But frankly this episode, although not quite over, offered little in the way of inconvenience. There were a few more hangups and an occasion or two where I administered disappointment counseling. Otherwise, nothing rose to the level of Julie and Julia. So there is no "year of" juicy subject matter for me. There's just this little matter of my living my life.
I am embarking on "The Year Of Living Haphazardly."
The good news is there’s no book potential in it whatsoever.
It will cover the people, events, ephemera, notions, trends, activities and assorted whatnots I encounter in the course of my writing life. As such, it will be a kind of laboratory. Or maybe not.
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