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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:
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Daily Blah for... Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Big Words and Bono the Healer
What was it like at the Apple-U2 iPod event yesterday? Quite a rush -- literally, at first. I got bogged down in traffic on the 280, and had to drive like a madman once it cleared up to make it to San Jose by the 10am deadline. This morning rush hour overspill seems to last longer every time I head south. (Do you know the way to San Jose? Yes. Do you know the way to San Jose without pounding on your steering wheel in frustration? Nope.)
Still, I made it to the California Theater at 10am on the dot. The PR reps recognized me as I sprinted in, ushered me to a sole spare seat near the front (as at most Apple events, it was a capacity crowd). I jumped into it, the lights went down and Jobs strode onto the stage. Talk about cutting it close.
Exactly a minute and a half later, my head was spinning. There were words on the gigantic cinema screen behind Jobs, and I was having a hard time reading them. In fact, I thought I was hallucinating. Here was the problem: they were my words. Jobs had cut-and-pasted my praise of the iMac G5 to pump up the success of the machine -- "Quite possibly the coolest personal computer yet created," went the quote. "Apple's latest computer is as cool and sleek as its bestselling music player." Then my name. Being out of breath means not having enough oxygen in your brain -- which makes it a really bad time, I'd found, for anyone to give that brain a sudden ego boost. I felt like the tight-corseted heroine of a Civil War novel, with a case of the vapors. Why, Mr. Jobs, I do declare, you are trying to kill me with your flattery.
What else did I learn? That Bono and the Edge appear nervous and uncomfortable when not playing for a stadium-sized crowd. That Bono gave iPods to his entire family, including his three year old daughter (which was a slight diversion from my question, which was about whether the band all have iPods; maybe he was trying to say the band is family). I learned Bono is shorter than I am -- believe it or not -- and that rumors of his messianic tendencies can be confirmed. After the post-show mini-press conference, he came up to the journalist sitting next to me, a guy from the LA Times, and asked, "did you put your shoulder out?" The surprised hack said yes. "I noticed the way you were moving your arm," said Bono. "I did that myself recently." He proceeded to suggest a myriad of fixes in an earnest, soothing tone. His body language suggested a laying on of hands, a healing from a televangelist. I half expected the journo to rise from his seat, flinging his arms up to heaven: "Glory be! I am healed!"
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