Those of you who are still slugging it out over the whole "Flower Power"/"Blue Dalmatian" debate (as in, "resolved: Apple's latest iMac patterns herald the irreversible decline in Western civilization and are the obvious product of a legally blind and/or congenitally insane agent of evil bent on world destruction"), put down the tire irons and the brass knuckles and set aside the whole pro vs. con argument for a second. Personally, we have removed ourselves from the scuffle pending our chance to see the patterns up close and personal. The startling difference between Apple's posted "photo" of Flower Power (which makes it look like bad '60s floral bathroom wallpaper) and how it appears in Apple's new iMac commercials was enough to convince us that we shouldn't judge until we see the systems in person; we recommend that, for the sake of restoring the peace, you adopt a similar attitude. Wait until you can behold the new patterns in all their translucent 3D glory, and if they still make you retch, then pick up that two-by-four and smash some skulls.

If you're impatient to get back to the fray, don't worry-- you'll have your chance to check out the new merchandise soon enough. According to a MacWEEK article, Apple's latest consumer desktops have shipped to resellers, and at least a couple of U.S. stores had received stock of Flower Power and Blue Dalmatian models as of Tuesday afternoon. If you weren't lucky enough to be present in Tokyo for the big introduction last week, soon you can get your chance to see what all the fuss is about by wandering down to your local Mac dealer and confronting the controversial new designs mano a mouse-o.

Will a face-to-face encounter with the flashy new iMacs change many opinions? Maybe, maybe not-- but MacWEEK agrees that it's "probably wise to withhold judgment on the new models" until you get to see the real thing, since both patterns are "much more subtle and muted" (as well as "more elegant and contemporary") than Apple's web site implies. Of course, that doesn't guarantee that you won't still hate them and want to run amuck with a blunt instrument. Conversely, those of you who currently like the new patterns might actually decide that they're actually not all that great after all once you see how subtle they really are.

However, we'll be fairly unsurprised if public opinion remains heavily weighted towards the "thumbs down" side of the spectrum. We once tried to give Apple the benefit of the doubt on this issue, because surely the company would never release such bold patterns without first testing the potential consumer reaction to the iMac's new look through the judicious use of focus groups, right? Well, as it turns out, we're still naïve after all these years, because an Apple representative told MacWEEK that Apple "did not conduct focus groups to test the new color schemes" on anyone other than Apple employees. What that means, of course, is that a handful of Apple employees told the man that signs the paychecks (and the pink slips) that his taste is impeccable and yet perfectly in tune with that of the average shmoe. Big surprise. Let's face it; the jury's out on this one until the sales numbers let us know what's what. In the meantime, though, check out the new iMacs in person, form your own opinion, and defend your stance by smacking down the naysayers. It's your civic responsibility!

Oh, Guy, how could you? Folks, forget about Apple's anemic stock performance, its first quarterly loss in years, its flagging sales numbers, and box office flops like the Cube; if you want real proof that these are dark days indeed for the Mac platform, you need look no further than the defection of the former champion of the Macintosh Way, once-Apple Evangelist Guy Kawasaki. The young'uns out there may not remember the scary stretch of the mid-'90s when Apple was very much in danger of being snuffed out like a six-color candle by the smothering onslaught of Wintel beigeness, but we're here to tell you that it was Guy who defended Apple at every turn-- backed up by the tens of thousands of Mac loyalists subscribed to the EvangeList, who were ready to flame an anti-Mac journalist to a crisp at the drop of a hat.

Apple eliminated the Head Evangelist position (as well as the official Apple-run EvangeList mailing list) a few years back when light appeared at the end of the long, dark tunnel, and Guy left to head up Garage.com, though he still spoke well of Apple and the Macintosh in his many public appearances. But the man who once bled six colors is now apparently flogging gear for IBM instead; according to a Macworld article, Mr. Kawasaki recently appeared at IBM's PartnerWorld 2001 convention, a "pep rally for 4,000 IBM loyalists." Granted, consorting with Big Blue isn't the sin that it once was (in the pre-PowerPC days, for example, and before Microsoft assumed the mantle of "Public Mac Enemy #1"), but it gets worse: at that event, he revealed that his PowerPoint presentation was being run not on a PowerBook, but rather on an IBM ThinkPad. Blasphemy!

"This is a historic moment... if Steve Jobs could only see me now," remarked Guy; if only, indeed. We wouldn't be surprised if Steve's phoning in the order for the hit even now. Okay, granted, Steve himself didn't use Apple's own hardware for years after returning to Apple, preferring an x86 laptop running NeXTSTEP, but somehow we find Guy's reversal far more disturbing. Maybe it's because Steve never really personified the concept of fierce Macintosh loyalty the way that Guy did. Maybe it's because when our Duo 230 was stolen from a Los Angeles hospital in our pre-AtAT days, Guy was actually nice enough to offer to let us secretly abuse his own personal employee discount to replace it. (We didn't take him up on it, but it was so cool that he offered.) For whatever reason, though, Guy opting for a ThinkPad instead of one of the first PowerBook G4s off the line is like a dagger through our hearts. Oh, the betrayal!

Woo-hoo, didn't we tell you that "Redmond Justice" was getting good again? When the seven-judge appellate panel started grilling both Microsoft's and the government's lawyers with extra-tough questions on Monday, we had a feeling that we were only seeing the tip of the iceberg. There was something beneath the surface... something building in pressure... something nearly ready to explode with enough dramatic force to sear flesh from bone and make up for all those slow, tedious months while we suffered the boredom of endless brief filings. What we sensed was anger, people; raw, primal anger. And when it popped hard on Tuesday, the object of the judges' ire was neither Bill's boys nor the Justice Department. It was none other than (da-da-da-DUM!) Judge Thomas Penfield Jackson.

Yes, good ol' Judge Jackson was the big star in yesterday's courtroom firefight, despite the fact that he officially left the show when Microsoft appealed his verdict that the company should be split in two. At issue was the unseemly way in which Jackson was always willing and eager to talk to the press about the Microsoft case-- something that's a big no-no among the judicial set. Evidently the judges on the panel have been suppressing their rage for a long while, because when the topic arose, they each had a turn at giving Jackson a verbal tongue-lashing that, had Jackson actually been present, would likely have flayed him alive. Just check out The Register's coverage for all the juicy details.

It seems that, at least in the eyes of the appellate judges, Bad Boy Jackson erred heinously when he spoke to the press before the case was over and made comments likening Microsoft to "the Newton Street Crew crack cocaine distribution outfit" and His Billness himself to Napoleon Bonaparte. What, was that so wrong? Well, uh, apparently yes: "there are some who might suggest that it violates the whole oath of office," said Judge Edwards. Meanwhile, Judge Sentelle (described as "a normally easygoing Southerner") "raised his voice in anger" to shout, "What possible legitimate reason could you assign to a judge's going to reporters and making derogatory comments about parties to a lawsuit that had been tried in front of him, unless the judge were biased?" Ouch!

So even as Judge Jackson's off somewhere tooling around the country on his Harley and winning knife fights for liquor money, the impact of his willingness to chat still casts a mighty big shadow over this case. Our understanding is that Jackson's comments to the press aren't enough to warrant tossing the entire case out the window (as Microsoft predictably argues), but one thing's for sure: if the appellate court bumps the case back to a district judge, you can bet it won't be Judge Jackson. And that's just as well, since the man's already plenty busy knocking over banks and tearing tags off of mattresses.