Friday 7 October 2011

RIP S.J.

Steve Jobs died yesterday. It’s not often a CEO of a company commands such worldwide mourning and reverence, but in the case of Mr. Jobs, people somehow felt the loss as if it was someone they knew. I suppose that speaks to the fact that he was a true pioneer that created a product that changed the world (it did, let's be honest) and a brand that redefined branding. In fact, it blew the doors off it. Case in point, you don’t see a four-hour line outside Best Buy for the latest HP printer now do you. On the contrary, Apple products became part of the zeitgeist, they inspired loyalty most companies would weep for, in fact, once you became a user of an Apple product, you never went back (especially the black ones. Sorry, it was just too obvious).

I have always been a ‘mac’ girl, as they say. I am writing today’s blog on my mac iBook. Next to me sits my iPhone, and this morning I went on a run with my iPod; all this thanks to this little company named after a fruit and a true visionary who invented his first computer out of his garage and decided a mere pencil and paper was not good enough; we were going sci-fi ladies and gentleman. No, I’m not doing PR for the company, I have just always been an admirer of those individuals that not only push the envelope, they reinvent the whole damn thing altogether.

I suppose there are many that would say that Steve Jobs and his company (let’s be honest, it will always be his company) are partially responsible for turning society into a bunch of techno addicts that line themselves up outside mac stores like jonesing, pathetic cattle waiting for the latest innovation to hit the market. “Didn’t you hear man, the iphone75 cleans your house for you. Hot Damn!” That’s fine, I wholeheartedly accept I’m a junky – acceptance: that’s the first step, isn’t it?

I'm so bad that it takes me about two days to take my brand new computer out of the box simply cause I think the packaging looks so nice. Cause let’s be honest, Jobs and his team made computers, phones and every other technological gadget that had an ‘I’ in front of it, sexy as hell. Yes, you heard me, from the packaging, to the design, form and function; it’s just a sexy little piece of machinery. And to make it even more attractive and alluring, a monkey could learn to use it. The mere fact that two year olds can singlehandedly work an ipad should tell you how smart Jobs and his think tank were. Let’s get em young damn it, in fact, next up an ipad that can go in utero!

So Mr. Jobs, this blog is for you. This is for your ingenuity, your visionary scope and your unfathomable intelligence and hard work that has left behind a legacy that has made proud and loyal junkies of us all. Not many people can say they were instrumental in changing how society functions, but you were instrumental in changing our world.

Wednesday 5 October 2011

MEREDITH KERCHER

I’ve been a tad obsessed by this whole Amanda Knox trial - yes, at the moment, I am a sad cliche. I did not follow the case from the beginning, but upon her appeal I started to read up on the case and the tragic and violent murder of this young British student, Meredith Kercher. I feel like her name should be mentioned a lot, and not only mentioned, but shouted from the rooftops as in these cases it is usually the victim that is so quickly forgotten when sensationalism rules the roost.

At the heart of this entire trial and appeal process, there is a family out there grieving for the loss of their daughter. More complicated than just the loss is the profound uncertainty surrounding her death, ensuring that true closure will have to be a choice on their part. The not knowing can make loss a much more palpable beast. As a parent, I simply cannot conceive of going what they have gone through, not to mention having to relive it over and over again as the media has a field day with Ms. Knox and Mr. Sollecito winning their appeal. I suppose in some way, at least this keeps their daughter’s image and name from being forgotten.

My interest and curiosity in this case was piqued in part to the behavior of these two individuals that were accused of her murder. Let’s put aside what my thoughts are in terms of guilt or innocence – as I think it is evident to all that this case is far from being clean cut. What intrigues me more is the notion of how people act – or should act –when deeming themselves innocent. I suppose for most, there is a paradigm of behavior that one must adopt – or should naturally adopt – if one is innocent of a crime. The problem comes in when individual’s actions and words start betraying that paradigm (cartwheels in the hallway of a police station not to mention making out with your boyfriend when your flatmate has turned up dead? Really??) Does this mean they are guilty? No, definitely not. Does this reek of suspicion, um, I suppose it is a bit unsettling, yes. But thanks to our justice system – or most justice systems – it is up to the state to go far beyond the suspicious and circumstantial and build a case based on facts.

I suppose my confusion with this case is that it has left so many questions. The obvious question of course: if there were more people in the house that night that committed this murder, where the hell are they? Secondly, if a person is accused of a crime, why confess to putting yourself at the crime scene and then blame someone you know is 100% innocent? (as Amanda Knox did with Mr. Lumumba). I mean, that's just rude....why were there bloody footprints (that had been cleaned up) belonging to a woman (or a man with a very small, feminine foot) detected by luminal in the hallway? Why after returning home that morning and finding the door open, did Ms. Knox enter the house and shower in a bathroom that had blood everywhere? I don’t know about you, but if there was blood in my bathroom, I’d be asking my partner a lot of questions. Numero uno – who the hell is bleeding all over the bathroom! Why was there no record of a film being downloaded that evening on Sollecito’s computer when he said they were home downloading a film; why did he originally say she was not with him, or, my favorite response: “I can’t remember if she was with me, it's fuzzy.” Some impact she makes as his girlfriend. And lastly (for my list anyway, as we are dealing with a word count constraint), why after telling the police they slept in till 10am, were their cell phones switched off the night before at 8pm and turned back on at 6a.m? And you guessed it, neither of them remembers turning back on their phones.

In the honor of the judicial process I respect the fact that for these jurors, the facts as presented by the prosecutor demanded that these two individuals appeal be overturned. For them, the facts and DNA evidence were simply not there. But sadly for the family of Meredith Kercher, all these unanswered questions surrounding this case mean that for them, they are still back at the beginning wondering who took the life of their young daughter. And that is a very giant and excruciating pill to swallow. For their sake, I hope one soon they find solace.

Monday 3 October 2011

JESUS ON MY TEA TOWEL

Recently a woman in Coventry (UK) took a tea towel out of the dryer to find a brown stain on it resembling a long bearded man. She and her husband claim the image within the stain is none other than Jesus Christ himself. The woman claimed the stain was not there before the dryer but after the load finished, she took it out and, presto, there it was (call me crazy, but something tells me her dryer is too hot and may burn the house down if she’s not careful).

Of course they have been mobbed with requests from the uber pious hoping to come make a pilgrimage to her kitchen of holiness to gaze upon her tea stained tea towel. I’m sorry, I realize my jaded side is showing through in technicolor, but I just never get on board with this type of stuff. Perhaps because I just fundamentally don’t trust humans or their eyesight.

I suppose my first question is why do people always insist it is Jesus imprinted upon their food items, linens, lining in the cat litter box etc. I’ve seen the photo (above) and between you and I, I can’t even make out a face, let alone the face of Jesus Christ. Not to mention, if one can make out a man with a beard, could that not be a likeness of the guy that delivers circulars to the neighborhood, or the former house owner that died in that very kitchen fifteen years before. Why is it always Jesus? Why don’t people see Elvis or Kurt Cobain or dead political figures? Now that would be a miracle. Holy shiz, there is an image of JFK inside the King’s diaper. Now that would get me believing in something (a diet change for the King perhaps).

I realize these days everyone is searching for a miracle of some sort, but I have a hard time believing that Jesus would appear on a towel in some woman’s house in Coventry. Okay, for those not jaded like myself, I suppose your answer is, why on earth not. I just have problems with believing a stain isn’t more than a stain and often a sheer trick of the eye. The King’s entire wardrobe is littered with stains, and I’ve yet to see a man staring back at me from his trouser leg. Trust me, if I did, I’d have confirmation that a year and a half without proper sleep can drive you definitively mad. But then again, maybe that’s why I don’t get Jesus appearing in my house, cause he knows it would go right over my head and out the window.

Ms. McCourt, the tea towel believer, is now insistent that this is a definitive sign from God, and this event has undoubtedly strengthened her faith. Apparently another resident of this same area claimed Jesus appeared to her on a drainpipe. [I’m not even sure how one sees Jesus on a drainpipe?] Clearly in this town, something deeply religious - not to mention hallucinogenic - is in the water.

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