Maybe it's just us, but we tend to think that most companies who lose a quarter of a billion dollars over the course of three months probably don't do a whole lot of shopping for big-ticket items like, oh, let's say, other companies. But as we all know, Apple isn't "most companies." Sure, last quarter was drenched in red ink, but the company still has big piles of cash filling a secret underground swimming pool where the board of directors occasionally drops by for a quick dip. Apple's cash-on-hand is still measured in billions, so dropping a few dozen million here and there isn't going to break the bank. Still, though, Apple would probably be wise to avoid splurging on acquisitions at this stage of the game unless the company it wants to buy is really going to improve Apple's strategic position, and fast.

Enter PowerSchool, Inc. As faithful viewer cocomac informed us, Apple's latest press release indicates that Steve and the gang plan to absorb the "leading provider of web-based student information systems for K-12 schools and school districts" for the low, low price of $62 million. So is this a necessary and worthwhile purchase, or just an impulse buy, like a pack of Juicy Fruit in the checkout lane? Sounds to us like the former; Steve's official rationale is that "by acquiring PowerSchool and welcoming its talented employees to Apple, we instantly become the leading provider of web-based student information systems nationwide." (Yes, the press release really does use the exact phrase "leading provider of web-based student information systems" twice in the span of two paragraphs. Of course, we just used it three times in one paragraph, so who are we to criticize?)

Let's think for a second about what Apple's getting for its $62 million in stock. First of all, there's the PowerSchool product, which sounds pretty nifty; teachers get to manage their students' grades and info in real-time, and parents can get access to that data from any web browser. Then there are the 160 employees of PowerSchool who will be inducted into Apple's ranks, thus advancing General Steve's plan to amass an army for world domination that much further; perhaps more importantly, though, those selfsame employees would also be good at helping Apple turn PowerSchool into, say, iSchool-- which could be an iTool for education running off of Apple's servers, thus eliminating the need for the school to own a server and a T1 line in order to centralize its student info on the web. We're just guessing, of course, but hey, it sounds good to us.

But don't overlook the choicest benefit: Apple gets some good PR in the education sector. One of the reasons that Apple has been floundering in the schools recently was the company's utterly botched reorganization of how it handles educational sales. With any luck, this PowerSchool acquisition will be seen as proof that Apple is serious about getting its priorities back in place-- and Apple products back into schools. Think of it as Apple putting its money where its mouth is... $62 million worth. And don't worry; the Money Pool is still nice and full.

You know how people always say you shouldn't ever buy a new car at the start of the model year? You're supposed to wait a few months until the kinks get ironed out. Similarly, the wisest course of action would be never to buy a brand new Mac until it's been available for a while. That way, the other less-patient Mac fans get burned by all the "issues," and you wind up with a more solid product, thus profiting from others' pain-- which is, of course, what civilized people do. Logical, right?

Unfortunately, when it comes to the act of buying a Mac, Apple usually cranks out such achingly cool stuff that logic rarely enters into the equation. That's why hundreds (if not thousands) of rabid, slavering Steve Freaks pre-ordered their PowerBook G4s mere minutes after the product's breathless unveiling last January. Can we blame them? Of course not-- the thing's made out of titanium, fer cryin' out loud, and who can resist that? So yeah, otherwise sane and rational people often go a little loopy during Apple product intros, but it's not their fault. Unfortunately, it does mean that they're the ones who are suffering through the PowerBook's initial "quirks," some of which are downright shocking in nature. (If you're not groaning now, you will in a minute.)

When we heard about the PowerBook's "play it level or listen to the disc grind like a block of steel on a belt sander" DVD-ROM drive, we shrugged the complaints off as nitpicking. We took the "whoops, I held my PowerBook wrong and the power cut out instantaneously" reports a bit more seriously, since the old disconnecting-battery-contacts problem was an issue in our Duo 230, as well. But it's the latest report of PowerBook weirdness that really has us creeped out to the extreme; faithful viewer Kevin pointed us to a discussion thread in Apple's support pages which indicates that some PowerBook G4 owners are getting mild shocks from their titanium little buddies. No, we don't mean static electricity discharges (though those are also apparently a problem with the latest PowerBooks). We're talking about actual flowing current-- enough to make the fingers tingly, but not enough to cause any real harm. Yet.

Think it's a fluke, or just someone's imagination? Read through the multiple reports of users who claim they can feel "a mild electric shock" as they move their hands across the titanium surface when the PowerBook is plugged into AC power, and then decide for yourselves. Several of these people have actually gone so far as to ground their PowerBooks manually by running wires from the case to a grounded outlet, which does indeed stop the shocks. So far it looks like every single person reporting this phenomenon is outside of the U.S., so we suspect it's an issue with the PowerBook's AC adapter and 200-220 volt house current-- and that also may be why we haven't heard reports of this disturbing problem sooner.

Now, personally, we're of the opinion that if we were lucky enough to be toting around a bad-ass piece of equipment like a titanium wide-screen supercomputer that's only an inch thick, we would probably accept the occasional electrical shock with aplomb; after all, maybe that's just the cosmic price you pay to be that cool. Still, if this is a real issue with the PowerBook's design, we hope it's limited to just a handful of users-- and that Apple fixes the problem stat. The last thing Apple needs right now is the six-letter "R"-word that rhymes with "shmeecall."

A roomful of eggheads can be an ugly thing. One person who thinks he knows more than everyone else is annoying; stick him in a room with a couple hundred like-minded individuals and a microphone and things can get downright nasty. Just such a scenario arose in San Jose recently, if the CNET article forwarded to us by faithful viewer J. E. Gibson is any indication. A gathering of "academics and engineers" reportedly decided to tell information technology workers just what's wrong with computers today-- and some Apple gear got caught in the crossfire.

Okay, so "computers are illogical machines in dire need of a total overhaul, and the information technology industry is completely screwed up." We can get behind that. "The beige box" that is only understandable to "a relatively small percentage of literate, technologically astute adapters" is a real problem-- we agree. Most computer engineers "have spent the last five decades designing computers around the newest technology-- not for the people who use the machines." Yeah, that's a fundamental error, too. We're all for user-centric design.

Why, then, aren't these self-righteous literati sparing the iMac their ire? One professor said that "design is the key to get us out of this slump"-- well, the iMac is a marvel of design. We're not talking about looks, although the iMac's friendly face undoubtedly lets regular people feel more comfortable as they use the technology. We're talking about the whole shebang known as industrial design-- soup to nuts, "the whole widget," a computer for the rest of us that may not get it exactly right, but at least its creator's hearts are in the right place.

We're talking about how current iMacs have ports on the side instead of the back, for easy access-- and no port door to get in the way. We're talking about an all-in-one solution that saves precious space, and a company who was bold enough to break with the past and rely entirely on plug-and-play technologies like USB and FireWire for expansion. We're talking about modems and 10/100 Ethernet built-in and ready to use, with no installation or configuration necessary. We're talking about out of the box and onto the Internet in ten minutes. We're talking about an operating system that pays so much attention to detail that it bends over backwards to be easy and exciting for the average user, and applications like iMovie that are written for regular joes, not IT departments and Microsoft-Certified Professionals.

And yet, amidst all their self-righteous whining about how nobody's designing computers for real people, these jokers "poked fun" at the iMac and its "groovy new shades." Apple's consumer desktop system, the computer that most closely embodies the very principles these jokers are proposing, "bore the brunt of scorn and jokes about how fashion has superseded functionality." Two words, people: "ivory tower."

If these brainiacs would actually take the time to use an iMac instead of making snap judgments that fit nicely with the topic of their next book, maybe they'd realize that color is the least significant aspect of Apple's design-- the inviting hues flow from the overall design, not the other way around. Do these people seriously think Apple said "Let's make a blue computer-- now, what should it be like?" They probably do, which is why they're all busy struggling with their beige boxes and complaining about them, instead of appreciating just how far Apple has pushed-- and will continue to push-- the philosophy and practice of user-centric design. The iMac isn't perfect, but in this of all contexts, it should be commended for its progress-- not ridiculed just because Flower Power clashes with the latest in professorial convention wear.

(Hey, where'd this soapbox come from?...)