| | November 16, 2004: Apple stirs controversy by recapitalizing one of its latest hit products. Meanwhile, iPod use is banned during warmups before NBA basketball games, and twice the Feiss is twice as nice... | | |
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The Capitalization Wars (11/16/04)
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What's that? You need drama? Why, we gotcher drama right here, buddy! That's right, folks, the drought has finally broken, and we're just revelling in it, running around outside naked in the downpour, gulping down that sweet, lifegiving stuff by the bucketful and letting it soak right into our skin. Figuratively speaking, of course. Well, actually, okay, one of us is running around the AtAT compound without pants. (Hint: it's not who you think it is.)
Why all the pantsless reverie, you ask? Because the Apple world is currently being shaken to its core by a controversy so provocative, so bitterly divisive that the very fabric of our community is in danger of being torn right down the middle-- and, of course, since trading in human strife and misery is our bread and butter, we're chowing down like it's All-You-Can-Eat Tuesday down at Shecky's Waffle Hut. We speak, of course, of Apple's decision to rename one of its latest and most buzzworthy products, and everyone alive will never forget where they were when they first heard that the iPod Photo is being reborn as... the iPod photo.
Yes, as faithful viewer frozen tundra was first to inform us and as breathlessly reported at iPodlounge, the iPod Photo was barely on the market three weeks before Apple decided to change the capitalization of its name. This is, of course, a polarizing issue not unlike religion, platform choice, and Original or Crispy Skin, only inspiring even bloodier conflict between warring pro- and anti-lowercase factions. The hardest part of the whole thing is that both sides make compelling arguments; while proponents of the new name cite consistency with the iPod mini's nomenclature as the primary reason for the change, the move's detractors insist that while all-lowercase letters make thematic sense for the "mini," renaming the largest iPod in the line-up to match makes as little sense as Crystal Pepsi.
Even as the debate rages on, however, Apple quietly continues editing its web site to reflect the "New, Improved Lowercase 'p.'" Believe it or not, Apple has even gone so far as to edit the title of the original iPod Photo press release to use the new capitalization; at broadcast time, Google's cache confirmed that the title originally used the old spelling. Holy revisionism, Batman! (Strangely enough, when last we checked, the press release itself contained the original capitalization throughout. Sounds like Apple's a little conflicted about the change, too.)
Needless to say, riots have already broken out in most major metropolitan areas, and One Infinite Loop is under attack by rampaging mobs of foam-flecked iPod Photo classicists bearing torches and pitchforks (for some reason). Cooler heads are calling for peace, noting that early adopters shouldn't feel orphaned by the change, but instead blessed to be a member of an exclusive new economic ruling class; the value of iPod Photo packaging featuring the original capitalization has surely skyrocketed among collectors since the announcement, and no doubt it'll soon fetch winning eBay bids upwards of $4 million apiece. Sadly, though, this knowledge has done little to placate the teeming masses calling for an immediate restoration of the iPod photo to its "One True Capitalization," and we fear that the worst violence is yet to come.
Next up: the iPod u2 special edition. Heaven help us all.
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iPods Stay On The Bench (11/16/04)
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Oh, to be a professional basketball player in the NBA, right? Fame, money, chicks, money, felonies, money with which to pay the lawyers to get away with it, more money, and (let's not forget) moolah. We were just reading that the top NBA draft pick scored almost $3.5 million a year, while Kobe Bryant's getting something like $136 million over seven years, so if you shoot hoops for a living, you're not exactly making chump change. (Well, unless you're playing for the WNBA, which has a salary cap well under the six-figure range. So much for equal pay for equal work.)
But what good is all that NBA cash if it costs you your soul-- and your R 'n' B, your techno, your geezer rock, your speed metal, and your Appalachian banjo music? Faithful viewer Timo sent us a link to an Associated Press article which reports that Vince Carter of the Toronto Raptors has been officially banned from listening to his iPod during pre-game warmups, which may just drop his Vegas odds a few points, since he says that he "listens to the music in order to focus before a game." So if you follow sports and suddenly notice Carter hurling brick after brick left, right, and center, you'll know why. (Unless he's been throwing them all along, that is.)
So what's with the iPod ban? Well, apparently it's not just Carter being singled out; none of the players is allowed to listen to an iPod during the twenty-minute warmups before each game, because doing so is "a violation of the league's rules on proper attire." Proper attire? So suddenly the NBA is a member of the Fashion Police or something? Perhaps they haven't noticed that the Raptors wear bright purple uniforms, which we'd consider to be a far more serious transgression than sporting an iPod. Heck, we're not exactly the experts on haute couture or anything, here, but given that kids who can't afford iPods are painting black earbuds white with Liquid Paper, it sounds to us that not listening to an iPod is today's big Fashion Don't.
Okay, sure, we understand that the objection might have something to do with giving Apple free advertising, because even the most nearsighted fans will be able to spot those gleaming white earbuds from up in the cheap seats, and they'll know exactly what kind of device that player is listening to. (They may not be able to see who the player is or even which team he plays for, but that's beside the point.) Still, isn't this cruel and unusual? Particularly in Carter's case-- come on, the guy's in Toronto just days before the iTunes Music Store opens in Canada, and he won't be able to blow his millions on tunes to listen to during warmups? Jeez, it almost makes us glad to be poor. Almost.
The good news, of course, is that now Apple has a built-in market for a new addition to the iPod line: the iPod Implantable (oops, we mean "iPod implantable"). Yes, all Apple needs to do is build an iPod that gets wedged right into the grey matter-- we only use, what, 10 percent of our brains, so we can make plenty of room!-- and pipes music straight to the inner ear. Controlling the thing might be a little tricky; telepathy would be ideal, but some sort of head-motion interface might be more cost-effective provided there's a hold switch so you don't make the thing go skipping all over creation which watching (or playing) tennis. As for a display, well, what's wrong with just guessing?
Think of it: with all those rich NBA players banned from 'Podding during warmups, Apple could charge a cool million apiece. And they'd sell like crazy, too, as long as Apple's marketing team can figure out how to convince everyone that loading songs by jamming a FireWire cable up one's left nostril is drop-dead sexy.
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Now Get Twice The Feiss! (11/16/04)
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When it rains, it pours, ladies and gents; we've spent the last couple of weeks whining incessantly about having no drama with which to punch up our plot (and we're sure you just found that fascinating, didn't you?), and now suddenly stuff's flying in from all angles like something out of a deleted scene from The Birds. And how appropriate that we'd mention a lost nugget of pop cultural gold, because the latest influx of drama comes in the form of an archeological find of mind-blowing proportions, mediawise: faithful viewer Sid made our day, week, month, year, and our next six lifetimes by casually informing us that there's a second Ellen Feiss commercial running loose on the 'net in oh-so-downloadable QuickTime format.
This is not a drill, people! We would never kid you about something as important as this. Instead of "my PC ate my homework," this time Ellen's waxing poetical-- or, um, something like that-- about her PowerBook G4: how it's "really fast and [she] just got it and it's silver and it's really exciting" and how she likes to take it "skiing or something, you know" or "to the beach" or "by the pool." After pitying her poor friends for having to do their homework at home, she delivers a new classic line: "Yeah, I really love my G4." Okay, Shakespeare it ain't, but it's the delivery that counts. The earnestness practically drips off the soundtrack.
Now, since we're generally so far out of the loop that said loop looks like a Cheerio from way out here, we figure it's entirely possible that we're the last ones to hear about this alternate commercial, but a few quick Googlings of appropriate words and phrases didn't turn up anything relevant except for the "Homework" page itself, so unless you're a regular reader of the Cult of Mac blog (you should be), there's a slim chance that you're hearing it from us first. If so, we're pleased as punch to send you plunging into the next wave of Feissmania with thirty more seconds of low-key video bliss. Truly, it's an honor.
Interestingly, this doubled dose of Feiss from the heavens is just one Lost Switch Ad among many (although unless there's one by God or Joss Whedon, it's by far the most significant). Cult of Mac notes that Morris "shot between 70 and 100 Switch ads for Apple that never aired"; there are several on his web site alongside the Ellen Mark II, the most noteworthy probably being ones featuring Christopher Guest, Perry Farrell, and Wanda Sykes. There are also what appear to be alternate ads (we couldn't confirm; at broadcast time, Morris's site was getting stomped into pulp by frantic Feiss fans eager for a new fix) featuring various Switch alumni, such as Yo-Yo Ma, Will Farrell, Morris's son Hamilton, and-- gulp-- Gianni Jacklone, easily the one Switch star who generated the most complaints to us here at the AtAT compound. Wouldja believe there are no fewer than five Jacklone commercials up there?
Oh, and sorry, folks; we get five Jacklones but no more Janie Porche. Actually, that's probably a good thing, because an extra minute of Feiss and Porche may well have done us in for good. But at least we wouldn't gone out with smiles on our faces.
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