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The increasingly inaccurately-named blog of journalist and futurist Chris Taylor. Either the most sporadically brilliant amateur blog, the most brilliantly amateur sporadic blog, or the most amateur sporadic brilliance on the Web since 2001.
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Daily Blah FAQ
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.
Do you write any other blogs, by chance? Could that have something to do with the fact that Daily Blah isn't always Daily?
Yes -- the Future Boy blog for Business 2.0. And yes. If you want true, editorially-mandated daily coverage from me, that's probably the best place to look.
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.
Praise for Daily Blah:
"It is fun to watch the author's navel-gazing joy." - Sunday Times (UK)
"It's really funny and informative." - Dave Eggers, author
"The Blah is becoming a daily destination for me." - Richard Marsh, Playwright
"I like it, and I don't." - Fiona Hogg, Teacher
"Better than Xanax." - Lessley Andersen, journalist
"Dude, lay off the crack pipe." - Souris Hong-Porretta, gamesmith
Friends, Bloggers, Countrymen ... lend your ears to these people. I come not to bury them, but praise them.
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Daily Blah for... Thursday, June 03, 2004
Trial of the Century? Not Likely
Here I am, blogging live from the murder trial of the century, The People vs. Scott Peterson, in the San Mateo County courthouse. You can cut the tension here with a large blunt steak knife. If you slice it enough times. Probably.
Actually, it's mind-numbingly dull. In contrast to yesterday's Perry Mason moments -- the defense dramatically asserting that Laci Peterson's baby was killed post-birth, not pre-birth, that some homeless guys in a white van were probably responsible, and that Scott was found heading to the Mexican border with a fresh change of hair color because he was fleeing the media -- this morning has been filled with the most mundane mountain of evidence. We've learned that Laci did her groceries at Trader Joe's, had her nails done at a spa, and went to a hair salon. The spa and salon were deemed important enough to the prosecution to call two employees of each, but I can't for the life of me figure out why. None of them seemed to know much about anything, and they all helped the defense by admitting to inaccuracies in the relevant Modesto police reports.
Right now we're into the second half-hour of questioning over the salon's surveillance tapes. There's something a little bizarre about hearing rousing cries of "objection!" while staring at a PowerPoint slide of some random guy getting his monthly buzz cut from a cheery hairdresser. The plucky jurors did their best when they came in a couple of hours ago to find details to scribble down in their legal pads, their heads darting back and forth from lawyer to witness in unison like spectators at a tennis match. Now a glazed expression has settled on their faces, and a couple of the plumper ones look very ready for lunch. The defense attorney didn't help when he asked the Trader Joe's manager, apropos of nothing, why he stopped selling those delicious pot roast sandwiches.
This morning at 8am, a crowd gathered for the daily lottery to determine who would get the 30 public seats. Those who won reacted like they really had won the Lotto. Now about half of them appear to have left. They're luckier than the jury and we hapless hacks.
All I can say is, thank God for $25-a-day Wireless Internet in the courtroom -- and wake me up when we get the condensed TV movie version.
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