Well, now that the iTunes Music Store is running at full steam, most of its mainstream media attention has been almost embarrassingly positive, and its early sales numbers beat Apple's own projections by a factor of four, you've probably decided that it's safe to start sweating the small stuff. Like, what's up with certain songs and albums disappearing from the store? (We initially indicated that the phenomenon was due to certain songs selling out; we've since heard rumors that the inventory control problem is actually being caused by rampant shoplifting.) Why did the QuickTime versions of the AppleMusic ads vanish from Apple's web site just when the commercials started to show up on TV? When they mysteriously returned a few days later, why is Jacob still rapping "Lose Yourself," while on TV he's doing "The Real Slim Shady"? Mysteries for the ages, one and all.

But maybe it's not time to stop worrying about the big picture just yet, since new evidence has come to light that the iTMS isn't necessarily the runaway success we've been led to believe it is. Rolling Stone just had to go and dish out a little perspective, the spoilsports; while Apple did sell two million songs in just over two weeks, even if that rate holds steady, the resulting $34 million or so in annual revenue for the music labels apparently ranks lower than the industry's take from last year's sales of vinyl records.

We'll take a moment to explain this to our younger viewers. See, kids, about 80 million years ago, most popular music was sold in the form of flat vinyl discs, usually black and either seven or twelve inches in diameter, with the music encoded into a physical groove that spiraled from inside to outside, wrapping around the surface either 33.33, 45, or 78 times per minute of recorded sound. To play them, prehistoric tool-using primates such as ourselves spun the discs at a constant velocity and dragged a needle along the groove. No, we're not kidding. This was maybe about two or three weeks before we invented Fire™, the Wheel™, and the pinnacle of caveman technology, the Wheel on Fire™.

Our point being, of course, that vinyl is essentially a niche market these days; we're pretty sure that the only people still buying major-label music in that format are DJs and thawed-out neanderthals. About the only thing more distressing would be if iTMS revenues were also being outstripped by sales of 8-track tapes. (See, kids, about 88 million years ago, a fair amount of popular music was sold on... nah, forget it.)

Now, it's not like the situation is particularly dire or anything-- the article itself notes that iTMS's relatively teensy chunk of the recording industry's cheese is due in large part to the fact that the only people who can use it so far are Mac users, and the real story is that it's only open to Mac users in the U.S. who have credit cards and run Mac OS X 10.2. (We're fairly certain that DJs and thawed-out neanderthals do, indeed, outnumber us.) The numbers might shift in a big way when iTunes for Windows ships at the end of the year, but we felt it was an interesting statistic nonetheless. Meanwhile, we can get back to worrying about the little things-- like, are we going to hell for buying that copy of "Baby Got Back"?

Wow, the stuff we missed while we were away continues to amaze us in new and exciting ways. We just happened across an article in the Mercury News which leads off with this baffling introduction: "Maybe you remember Kelsey Jeffries, the woman who split her time between a professional boxing career and a job working on a web site for Apple Computer retailers." Trust us: you can't begin to imagine the desolation and regret stemming from the fact that we don't remember any such thing. Oh, the wondrous things we missed...

While we don't know the backstory, the latest development in Ms. Jeffries's life is definitely soap-worthy material; it seems that she was summarily laid off a few months back. Apple claims that the pink slip was just one more flush in a toilet bowl economy; Kelsey, on the other hand, suspects foul play. Right after her first appearance in a human interest story in the Mercury News (she apparently won the world featherweight championship), her managers at Apple gave her a "stern talking-to" for having spoken with the press without checking with them first. Which all seems a little strange, given that the original Merc article focuses almost entirely on the boxing; it only mentions her Apple gig in passing. It's not like she told the world about the PowerPC 970-powered video iPods with antigravity technology shipping this Christmas or anything.

Anyway, it seems that TechTV and Telemundo saw the Merc piece and contacted her about doing a couple of interviews. Apple told her not to. She did anyway-- though she "avoided talking about her work at Apple." Nevertheless, both interviews mentioned her day job, and just weeks later, Apple shafted her. Coincidenza? Apple claims that it was-- an Apple spokesperson claims the layoff was just one of many in a standard reorganization-- but to most observers, the timing is a little fishy.

At first we had no idea why Apple would be so upset by an employee doing interviews about an activity totally unrelated to her duties at the company. But then we read the first Mercury article, and all the pieces started to fall into place. Consider, first, the opening line: "Kelsey Jeffries loves her job at Apple Computer, but she likes boxing better." Perhaps Apple bristled at the idea of any employee publicly admitting that working at Apple isn't the employment equivalent of sex, beer, and pizza all rolled into one. (And not in the literal, messy sense.)

Here's the real clincher, though: Jeffries was described as "arguably the only person at Apple tougher than Steve Jobs." A-ha. Clearly Steve didn't want any competition around angling for his job...

[Editor's note: don't worry, folks, this scene is spoiler-free.]

Sometimes the slow news days come just at the right time, because faithful viewer Juliet is right: we'd be remiss to let the conclusion of "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" go by without a fitting farewell. Anyone who's tuned in here more than a couple times is already well aware that we're total "Buffy" freaks, so we're just going to take a few moments here and say goodbye to a show we'll miss more than we'd miss our own left legs. Ah, the joys of a total lack of journalistic integrity; we get to go as off-topic as we want any time the mood strikes us.

Truth be told, though, "Buffy" isn't nearly as off-topic as some might think. There are several ways in which the show was connected with AtAT's usual subject matter; in all but the first couple of seasons, Apple products essentially ruled the show, from Willow's ever-updating parade of PowerBooks to the Evil Trio's massive assortment of G4s and Cinema Displays. (The bad guys always have the best stuff.) Plus, several of the uglier demons to appear on the show were, in large part, based on Steve Ballmer.

And even if the show is only remotely related to Apple and its doings, it's pretty central to AtAT itself. Yes, we've been producing AtAT for longer than we've been watching "Buffy"-- but only just barely. We discovered the show late in its second season, just two months after AtAT first hit the airwaves, and we were instantly hooked. Consider this: of the 4000-odd scenes broadcast on AtAT since 1997, a pretty substantial 44 of them mention "Buffy" at least once-- whereas only 43 mention "The X-Files," despite the latter show's far more AtAT-related themes of paranoia and conspiracy.

For those of you who still don't understand why we're so enthralled by a show about an ex-cheerleader who stakes the undead, it's the sort of thing you really need to appreciate first-hand. It's a show you can enjoy on so many levels: it's an allegory for the demons that plague us all in adolescence and early adulthood; it's a pageant of kickboxing zombies. How can you possibly go wrong? Plus, the writing was usually top-notch all around, and as people who crank out an average of 1500 words a day ourselves, we have no choice but to respect that.

We suppose that if we had to sum it all up in a way that actually brings this subject back on topic, it'd be like this: "Buffy" was a solid example of quality television. Every aspect of it brimmed with attention to detail. It was clearly crafted with love by everyone involved with its production, from the writers to the actors to the sound editors to the hair and makeup grunts. It was an innovative show; it consistently pushed the envelope of what is "acceptable" on mass-market television. As fans of the Macintosh, this is exactly the sort of thing that should speak to you. The simple fact of the matter is that we love "Buffy" because what sets "Buffy" apart from the rest of the shows out there is much the same stuff as what distinguishes a Mac from the rest of the beige boxes. No, not every Mac user will like "Buffy"-- it all comes down to taste, after all-- but we're willing to bet that most would at least be able to appreciate it for its craft.

As for the taste issue, well, we've received countless messages from AtAT fans over the years who tell us they gave "Buffy" a chance on our say-so, and wound up hooked. Face it; if you're screwed up so much that you enjoy a net-based soap opera about black turtlenecks and Reality Distortion Fields, why wouldn't you dig "Buffy"? The humor and language seem right in line with what AtAT viewers crave-- grab a sample of the dialogue over at IMDB and see for yourself. If you like what you see, consider renting the first season of the show on DVD and giving it a whirl. Maybe you'll wind up hooked, too.

"Buffy" was funny and heartbreaking and surprising and a zillion other things all at once. And without it, we suspect we'll wither and die in a matter of weeks (though we could be wrong).

Bummer it's over.