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Add one part satire to two parts sincerity. Sprinkle on a couple of rants. Stir liberally.
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Who are you?
I'm the newly-appointed Future editor at Business 2.0 and the former San Francisco correspondent for Time Magazine.
Wow, so does this mean everything you write reflects Time Inc's opinion? Or do you perhaps have some sort of standard disclaimer to the effect that it doesn't?
Naturally, the opinions contained in this blog are not those of my employers. In fact, some opinions may be the polar opposite of my employers. Some may be the same, for all I know. Hey, it's not like I ask my employers their opinions about everything in the news, okay? Let's just say that if this were a Venn diagram with one circle marked "my opinions" and the other one marked "my employers' opinions", there would doubtless be some overlap. But neither I nor my employers are able to pinpoint exactly where that overlap is.
What is this Daily Blah thing?
An experiment for a column I wrote about blogging back in December 2001. All these years later, I haven't been able to kick the habit.
If it's called Daily Blah, how come you don't ... hey, wait, you're writing every day!
See? Told you I'd try harder.
Mister, you talk funny. Are you one of them furrners?
Why yes I am, as it happens. I was born, raised and educated in Great Britain. I've been living in the U.S. since 1996 and identify as British.
I say, old chap, you forgot the "u" in "colour."
No I didn't. I may identify as British, but I am also an American journalist writing for an American audience about mostly American issues. These two different sides of me are a constant source of tension. Nevertheless, Daily Blah will adhere to American English grammar and spelling.
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Daily Blah for... Tuesday, May 27, 2003
Follow the White Rabbit
Yes, it took me that long to recover from E3. Or maybe I knew that I would have to tell you about the Playboy Mansion next, and I've been delaying telling you because the topic has come up in conversation with friends ever since P. and I went, and don't you find even the most lively anecdote gets terribly boring when you repeat it for the fifteenth time? I'm a writer, not a performing artist. Big sigh. Okay, so anecdote repetition isn't exactly a world hunger-sized problem. I'll just get on with it, shall I?
This was an event to mark the beginning of development on a videogame called Playboy: The Mansion, in which you play Hugh Hefner himself. (For more on the game, check out my column here. And while you're at it, you might as well read my other E3 column here.) The beginning of development, mark you. They didn't even have a half-finished game to show the fifty or so journalists who gathered there. Kids, can you say vaporware?
Not that any of us were complaining. We were too busy drinking, smoking cigars and gawping at Bunnies. Yep, it was star treatment from the moment we stepped out of the stretch limo and into the courtyard of what is a surprisingly small and intimate dwelling. People really live here, you think; this isn't Disneyland. As if the Kleenex and baby oil on trays everywhere hadn't tipped you off about that.
We were being hosted by four Bunnies, including Miss May and the actress who played the blonde on Growing Pains. They were decked out in suede jackets and skirts -- just enough coverage to prevent gawping, although P. was there to slam my jaw shut if need be. She was, after all, my wife for the day. (That is, my e-mail to the pre-event PR point person read "would it be okay to bring my girlfriend?" and the reply read "no problem -- your wife is now on the guest list.") The pace was quite leisurely, no doubt deliberately so. I had enough time to down five cranberry-and-vodkas, smoke probably the largest and tastiest cigar of my life, and thoroughly amuse my bouche before the Bunnies began the tour. We could have been taking a turn around Peoria City Hall for all I cared at that point.
Nevertheless, I saw enough to confirm what we knew all along: Hef is a man to envy with every ounce of your internal green monster. It's hard to fault him on anything in his home. Nothing is large enough to be gaudy; most rooms have an almost historic quaintness in their modular design; everything is geared towards the comfort of guests. The zoo alone should be enough to prove he knows how to spend money. We had a fine time hanging out with the peacocks, the parrots, the flamingos, the spider monkeys -- and of course, the ever-so-cute bunny rabbits.
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