Dear Steve Jobs,
My name is Catherine and I’m one of the “girls” you made fun of in your blog for “making out” with another “chick.” (I’m the more attractive one, wearing the gray skirt. And fair play to you on the frumpy dress my friend was wearing. I agree it’s hideous. But on the subject of my “freaky” skirt, however, I’m afraid I must protest. It’s Givenchy, darling, and not off the rack.) But moving on. Just wanted to let you know that my companion, Catriona, and I are not, in fact, “Yelptards.” We are graduates of Harvard, which is a university on the East Coast. Have you heard of it? It’s pretty well regarded in some circles. Catriona graduated with honors, and I graduated summa cum laude. (It’s Latin, you can look it up.) We’re now Ph.D. candidates at the UC-Santa Cruz, in the Department of Feminist Studies (formerly called Women’s Studies) studying under Bettina Aptheker. (Have you heard of her? No? Really? She’s pretty famous. And you’d like her. She’s a “lezbo” too.) We’ve been following your blog for some time, reading it as a clever parody-of-a-parody (or parity or parroty as the case may be). We admired its droll, puckish send-up of schoolboy humor; its deconstructed author-as-both-narrative-and-author; not to mention its self-aware yet juvenile humor which we read as intended to mock things like the ghastly Harvard Lampoon. Sort of a lampoon of lampoons, if you will. (Or even if you won’t, for that matter.) In other words, Fake Steve, we dug your stuff.
But apparently we were giving you too much credit. Because we were shocked when you latched on to our “make-out” performance and thought it represented an image of “lezbos” (ugh, shiver, hate that word) and failed to recognize its actual intent, which was as a sly, ironic statement about subverting (by (in)verting and thus (per)verting) the male gaze. Honestly, we thought a smarty-pants Zen master like yourself would catch that right away. You have heard of the “male gaze,” right? No? Come on. Laura Mulvey? Michel Foucault? Jacques Lacan? Jacques Derrida? Gilles Deleuze? Felix Guattari? These names ringing any bells? Seriously? Oh, wait. That’s right. You didn’t go to college. Aw. Well, trust me. They’re right up there with Einstein, Picasso and Gandhi. Even with John Lennon. (I know, hard to believe.) As for what our performance was about, let me try to explain it in a way that you and your little pal Nemo could understand. We’re not “hot lezzzbos” from a Girls Gone Wild video. We were making a joke, and you ended up being the butt of it. Peace out. Catherine.
(Please note that the above photograph was taken by a fantastic photographer named Mitchell Aidelbaum. Here is the flickr account page of Mitchell Aidelbaum, where you can see the entire body of work by Mitchell Aidelbaum, including this one entitled “Bundle of Women,” and this one showing a three-girl makeout session. Is it porno? I don’t know, but I’m beating off to it. Mitchell Aidelbaum, everyone at Apple loves your work and we want to see more. How do you get them to do this? I can never get chicks to agree to it. At least not good-looking ones. What draws them? Is it the venture money? Maybe we should start a Web 2.0 company. Which, by the way, let’s give a big shout-out to venture capitalist and “king o’ da pimps” Jeremy Levine, whose firm, Bessemer Venture Partners, put up the bucks for this. Thanks, Jeremy. And, as always, thanks again to the very talented Mitchell Aidelbaum.)