Present Imperfect

Neither aroused nor inspired. | January 21, 2008

Alrighty. Let’s just get this out of the way, shall we?:

“It doesn’t matter how good or bad the product is, the fact is that people don’t read anymore. Forty percent of the people in the U.S. read one book or less last year. The whole conception is flawed at the top because people don’t read anymore.”
-Steve Jobs on the Amazon Kindle

I could spend the rest of this post saying things like “hey, Steve, doesn’t that mean that sixty percent of the people in the U.S. read one book or more last year?” Or pointing in the direction of the nearest behemoth bookstore superchain whilst making “duh” face. Or mentioning that I don’t think Amazon became the number-one online retailer in the universe by selling flyfishing accessories.

The comments on every site that published this quote are positively aglow with this kind of gleeful reactionary outrage. All over a statistic I can’t find anywhere — except in that quote.

This is because crazy genius billionaires make stuff up.

In fact, most crazy geniuses become billionaires by making stuff up. iPod? That’s a word from a language I invented when I was eight in order to secretly communicate with my imaginary dog-faced friend, Jorb from Orb. Okay, no. But it could have been, for all its made-upedness. And the iPod itself is a shiny fruit fallen to earth from an enchanted tree in a mystical fairy land populated entirely by crazy geniuses.

Really great ideas tend to be unique. Or, at least, they transform just-okay ideas into really great ideas by adding something unique.

If the Kindle fails, it won’t be because it’s ugly or because it uses only one font or because people don’t read anymore. It will fail because of a lack of imagination. The book was a fucking great idea. Seriously ace. Thank you, Aldus Manutius, you 15th-century Venetian crazy genius. The Kindle is not a unique idea, nor does it improve on Manutius’s really great idea.

Arthur C. Clarke, who has written way more about failure of imagination, once said, “Nothing will ever replace books. They can’t be matched for convenience, random access, nonvolatile memory (unless dropped in the bath), low power consumption, portability, etc.”

Of course, that hasn’t stopped Clarke from giving Amazon whatever permission it needs to turn some of his works into Kindle editions. But, hey: Crazy geniuses can also become billionaires by hedging their bets.

Writin’ a blog post. | January 03, 2008

Whilst tossing the lid to my Wallaby lowfat strawberry yogurt into the trash can today, I said the following: “I’m gonna throw this in here.”

I do this All. The. Time. It’s like I feel obligated to fill any empty space with words, even if those words amount to nothing more than completely useless commentary on what I’m currently doing.

“Puttin’ on my headphones.”

“Goin’ to the kitchen.”

“Lookin’ for my Sharpie.”

“Delete!”

I rarely make New Year’s resolutions, but as this is occurring to me so close to January 1st, I think I’m going to try to be more respectful of the space words occupy instead of letting them pile up in the air like non-biodegradable disposable diapers or those hangery things that hold new pairs of socks together.

I will also endeavor to curb my use of cheap vending machine trinkets such as “like,” “sweet,” and “awesome,” as they seem somewhat undignified for a woman of my advancing age.

I will likely fail to do either of these things. But at the very least, I will think more about where my words come from and if they should be wasted on something like “now, where are my keys?”

Maybe I should just blurt out non sequiturs that have nothing to do with my current actions. I could sharpen a pencil (something I practically never do) and say “just walkin’ the gerbil.” Or put on my coat and say “Pinchbeck!” That way, I could usher underused words into the world. So they can get out. Stretch their consonants. Get some exercise.

Snaffle!