Ah, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology: that well-respected institution of higher learning within whose hallowed halls the world's best and brightest train their eager young minds to tackle the rigorous challenges of the high-tech industry. At least, that's what's in the brochures that get sent to Mom and Pop to justify the twenty-something grand a year. In reality, we're sure that each student's experience at the school is unique, but our own brush with the 'tute was primarily a four-year study in endurance ("How to stay up for forty-eight straight hours while keeping the hallucinations at bay") and philosophy ("Why am I staying up for forty-eight straight hours when I never bother to go to class anyway?"). When you stick a large number of very young, very bright, and very sleep-deprived people together in an environment bearing only the faintest hint of "adult" supervision, a fair amount of weirdness can occur. If you've seen Real Genius, we should note that it wasn't that much of an exaggeration.

So while it's true that MIT is a fantastic place to learn about Fourier transforms, turbulent heat transfer, artificial intelligence theory, etc., it's also true that Mom and Pop are shelling out six figures for their kid's education so said kid can neglect his or her studies and build iMacs out of JELL-O instead. Oh, wait-- sorry, that was last year's contest. Faithful viewer Otter tells us that this year, the spirit of the event is the same (craft a representation of an Apple product out of some appropriate yet uncooperative medium), but the details are a lot less wiggly. This time around, MIT students are flexing their brains to build the most realistic Power Mac G4 Cube out of ice.

That's right-- the problem sets can wait, because whoever most faithfully represents the sleek coolness of Apple's Cube in solid-form H₂O wins a real Cube to display proudly on his or her desk (or sell for beer money). Second prize is almost as nifty: an iMac DV Special Edition, probably in "Snow" just to keep the theme going. Third prize is a Umax USB scanner which, at worst, could be hocked for a series of hot meals at Mary Chung's. So there's a lot at stake here. As such, presumably several MIT students are trying to figure out not only how to craft a great-looking replica, but also how to keep their ice sculptures from melting when the contest is judged outdoors on the Student Center steps on October 20th.

We can see it already: hours spent researching methods of synthesizing ice with maximum optical clarity, artificial pigments meant to freeze into Apple's translucent Graphite logo, elaborate battery-powered peltier cooling rigs designed to preserve the sculpture's physical integrity for up to three hours in an environment with an ambient temperature of 55° Fahrenheit. Or, depending on when midterms hit this semester, maybe the winning entry will be a block of ice with an Apple logo drawn on it with black magic marker. In any case, hopefully Apple will once again post a page of photos of the winning entries so we can all share in the love. And remember, kiddies-- they're just mold lines. Points off for actual cracks.

Say, has anyone out there got a huge wad of cash lying around gathering dust? We ask only because MacInTouch notes that there's a prime piece of Apple history up for auction on eBay: a genuine Apple I computer. This is the real thing, folks-- the kit computer that started it all way back in those halcyon days of 1976. If you're the lucky winning bidder, you don't just get the Apple I's guts itself-- you also get a wealth of handy documentation, including a typed and pen-corrected fourteen-page technical manual (hey, that's more than you get with a brand new iMac), a schematic of the circuit boards, an instruction set summary for the computer's MCS6500 processor, and "a two-page article from Interface Age, May 1977, by Robert J. Bishop, entitled 'Apple Star-Trek.'"

But wait, there's more! Don't want to muss your manicure building an enclosure for the Apple I's admittedly skin-lacking design? Now you don't have to, because this model ships standard with a "blue and white metal case." "But AtAT," we hear you whine, "we'd still have to drill a bunch of holes in the front, and our drill's in the shop." Not to worry, friends... this case already comes with "a dozen hand-drilled holes in the front" and a fan. It's ready to rock at a blistering 1 MHz the moment you haul it out of the box!

As if that weren't enough, this Apple I also comes with three Apple BASIC cassettes "for you to play PONG and other games." (Of course, there's no mention that the unit ships with the optional cassette recorder that would actually let you use those tapes, but we're sure you could pick one of those up at any convenient CompUSA location.) So shelve those plans to get a PlayStation 2 and bid now, because you're just days away from firing up the finest computer gaming experience 1976 had to offer.

Surprisingly, so far there are no bids on this fabulous piece of work. That may be due in part to the fact that the seller has an eBay rating of 0, meaning he or she has probably never bought or sold anything on the service before, so there are some trust issues to overcome-- especially since he or she didn't bother to post a photo of this blue and white hand-drilled wonder. There's also the niggling little matter of price: the opening bid is set at $37,500, which might be a tad high, considering the circumstances. After all, the Apple I originally sold at the diabolically low price point of $666.66; sure, that was twenty-five years ago, and inflation's a drag, but still.

You know, we used to think that Apple board member (and bestest-buddy-o'-Steve) Larry Ellison was the biggest blabbermouth when it came to ill-advisedly yammering to the press, but these days we have to say that "Redmond Justice" star Judge Jackson is rocketing up the charts. Whether or not you agree with his decision to stay Microsoft's conduct remedies until after the appeal, you'll probably agree that he's not helping his case by spending all his spare time talking through his foot every time some yahoo with a press pass sticks a microphone in his face. Not long ago he made headlines by admitting publicly that "virtually everything [he] did may be vulnerable on appeal"-- a quote that Microsoft's lawyers leapt on like a pack of starving dogs onto a ten-pack of Oscar Mayer wieners and included in their appeal filing.

To make matters worse, now The Register now reports that Jackson's been chewing the fat with the Financial Times. Responding to Microsoft's allegations that his willingness to chat about the case with the members of the fourth estate constitutes a "serious procedural error," Jackson stated that his comments were always "in accordance with federal codes of conduct." Even so, he evidently figures that he stands a good chance of being booted off the case entirely: "they may find a way to disqualify me," he moans.

Of course, discussing the possibility of getting the shaft with yet another member of the press might well be the shortest distance to a self-fulfilling prophecy. And so while Microsoft continues to press for an appeal schedule that won't reveal the end of this case until the sun goes nova, the man who found the company guilty in the first place prepares for the axe. Meanwhile, those conduct remedies remain unenforced, which means it's just business as usual for the Redmond gang until the sun goes out. Hey, Microsoft can't always be the underdog in this case-- where's the drama in that?