Goodbye Silicon Valley. We’re 30,000 feet over Fremont, headed to Uganda to catch up with the Pope. You can see we’re on Marissa Mayer’s pink Learjet, which the folks at Victoria’s Secret did up for her. Fuck’s sake, I’m exhausted. I haven’t shaved since — Christ, I haven’t slept since Wednesday. That’s Coco from Elevation Partners sitting across from me, working the spreadsheets. She gave up her Thanksgiving weekend — and her boyfriend, too, because I guess this wasn’t the first time she’s pulled this on him during a holiday. It’s a wonder Ali hasn’t dumped me likewise. God bless you, Coco, you’re doing His work.
Steve is really mad at me for taking over his blog. Edge says Steve’s people have called everyone in the band and threatened to yank our Complete U2 collection from the iTunes Music Store. It’s a bluff. We led the way for rock and roll’s biggest names to agree to do iTunes. And the Complete U2 — every single U2 track ever with one click? You’re forgiven for assuming it was Steve’s idea. Brother Bono pitched it to El Jobso back when he and Beck were telling everyone the future of music was selling one track at a time and having the fans remix everything. Fuck me if I can remember the half-baked batch of tracks Beck was pushing, but no number of mashups could save them. Hello, hello, we kicked his ass with “Vertigo.” U2 proved the decline of the album isn’t the death of talent, or the abolition of craft. So Beck is cool with the bloggers, but Crazy Bono just guest-edited Vanity Fair. Have you heard of it?
Steve, I know you’re reading. Marissa says the (RED) Ads by Google we launched yesterday are … wait, I need her to say it again slowly … they’re “outperforming the mean weighted aggregate CTR in key test verticals.” That means more money for retrovirus innoculation in Africa. And greater global awareness about our brothers and sisters. No thanks to you, Mister It’s-Too-Risky-To-Do-A-Red-iPhone.
To the Google kids I hung out with over Thanksgiving weekend: You brought me reason to give thanks. I believe it’s true what they say, that Web 2.0 is made of people. Don’t listen to the cynics carping from the sidelines. If you can look any man or woman in the eye and see God and yourself looking back, if you can keep the Valley’s “if it ain’t broke, break it” spirit of innovation, if you can put as much energy into loving friends and enemies alike as you put into hating Wal-mart, there’s hope for this world. But go easy on the orgies. They catch up with you.
I need to stay awake a few more hours and finish my pre-briefing for the Pope. Benny the Red may look like an old German fart, but he’s brutal if you show up without a solid deck of slides on your laptop.
Fuck. My laptop.
I left the red MacBook with my Africa presentation at Steve’s house. I’ll need to get Edge to set me up a new laptop and make up some slides for His Eminence based on …. wait, never mind. Marissa’s going to lend me her pink Dell and help me do a Google Docs preso about debt relief. She’s brought cupcakes, too.