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Well, shoot.

I sure am sorry I don't have a Colorado trip to report on this week. It seems like 20 years since I went there, but evidently it was only six days ago. How does that work, anyway?

Actually, I wish I were in Paris this week. There's a rumor that Uncle Stevie will bring a new PowerBook or two to the Paris Expo, if that's what it's called -- I'm writing this offline and I'm too lazy to get up and see. If I were there, I'd have to check that out, of course. Personally, I'd rather go watch Yoko Ono strip naked for peace on the stage of some Paris theater like I read she was going to do. Sure, that might scare some of you, might scare me, to tell you the truth, but it's the thought that counts. The concept. Using your body as a sign or symbol.

I like this latest trend of taking off your clothes to make a political statement. That's been done before, but now we have whole mobs of people doing it. Heck, even if it's an old ploy, it's a great one. I'd strip naked in front of Dick Cheney if it made him quit lying, or even if it only made him shut up. There were people going naked in Cancun to protest the World Trade Organization last week, and one guy even killed himself. Now THAT is a protest ... would Wolfowitz eat rat poison on Meet the Press to make a stand for spending 87 billion bucks? No?! Well, what if he took his clothes off, then? What if the entire executive branch stood buck naked in front of God and NBC to plead for dough and soldiers from the U.N.?? Doesn't work, does it? Now isn't that strange.

But yeah, the Paris Apple fest. Of course I'd go if I were there. Mais oui. Just reading all the funny signs in French would make it worth the visit. I love French. I love THE French. (If I say that again, will Cheney take his clothes off to make me stop?) The only thing is, I'm not that crazy about the food, bread and wine excepted. The last time I was in Paris, I peeked at the posted menu of a fancy restaurant and they had sparrows. You know, little birds. But I love that country. They have really cool trains. No, really. Honest-to-God trains that you can take to go from place to place, except they go too fast for you to look at the scenery. Totally irrelevant observation, you might say, but there's a tie-in or three for you deep thinkers and con artists out there.

[Hmm. I'm trying to finish the column on my TiBook, but I dunno. "68%" after just four paragraphs, geez. Iraqi cops last longer than the battery on this thing. I tried turning down the brightness, but that just made me depressed.]

Do we have a theme yet? Well, I'm not sure. At first I thought it was taking off your clothes, but maybe I should stick to France, or French. That's lots more fun than writing about Motorola. If you ask me, that's why the PowerBooks are late, which has nothing to do with Paris, although it could, if Jobs gives a keynote speech with nothing to show off.

Wait, I remember what I wanted to tell you: Macworld UK had an online "poll" to ask what readers thought Apple should use as a code-name for the next version of Mac OS X. After "Panther," that is. What won is "Lynx" (yawn). Lynx, as it turns out, is also the name of a "popular antiperspirant" in the UK. I have some difficulty understanding naming such a product after a big cat, though: cat food, cat box, cat piss, cat breath, etc. See what I mean? My own response, suggested in an Applelinks news article last week that nobody read, is to call the next Mac OS X edition "The Mighty Quinn." No, that doesn't make sense either, but it reminds me of Dylan and the Band, and that makes me feel good. Besides, it carries the power of poetic ambiguity.

Maybe that's the theme of this week's GRACK, because whatever's happening here sure ain't empirical. I'm trying to avoid specifics, actually. There are too many very specific tender points of aggravation and outrage to get snagged on, so I'm tossing out some chuckle chum to attract the Big Laugh. I know it's down there somewhere.

Maybe next weekend I'll go to Chaco. It's getting cold here fast, so I'd better act on this before it snows. We don't have Indian summer in el Norte, just Indians. For that matter, we hardly have summer, period. Just over the line in southern Colorado, they say the seasons are winter, more winter, still winter, and construction. I think I've used that joke before, but I don't care. Anything to get me on the road and off the subject(s).

I like this TiBook, by the way. Down to 35% but no one's gunned me down and I don't lie, except about dropping trou' in front of Secret Service agents.

One weekend wasn't enough, was it?

Senior Applelinks editor and columnist John H. Farr invites your emails.

Alternative eBook source:

Lots of pictures of el Norte:

Salon Weblog: yackety-yak!

(Beautiful land for sale here: "What It Is About El Rito,")

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