Posts: 153
Early this week, I wrote about how the Blu-ray drive in the PlayStation 3 is changing the video game business. Sony's console is built for gaming, but features like Blu-ray and online connectivity make it a home entertainment system in disguise. So is Microsoft's Xbox 360.
It's no secret that Sony and Microsoft are fighting to establish a footprint in the American living room. That's why they're both willing to lose money selling consoles – they think they'll make the money up on games, but also with online services and video on demand. For the past few years, however, both companies have gone out of their way to market their machines as game consoles, which only made sense. What self-respecting gamer is going to buy a movie machine?
All three companies fought for the family market during their annual presentations at the E3 industry conference. Microsoft made the case that its Xbox 360 is a full-featured home entertainment system, complete with the ability to download TV shows and movies, through a deal with Netflix. Sony announced its own movie service, and pointed out that its PS3 already supports the movie format of the future. Both showed impressive games, but the hardcore gamers who are waiting for them have already bought a console. Now they're fighting over the family audience.
So far, Nintendo has captured most of that audience – not only because the Wii is delightfully easy to use, but because the price is right: $250. And, to the despair of fanboys, Nintendo kept pushing its family appeal. Its new "Animal Crossing" game is like MySpace for the stuffed animal crowd. And "Wii Music" seems made for the younger siblings of "Guitar Hero" fans.
Nintendo has no broader home entertainment strategy. The Wii isn't meant for TV, movies, or music – just plain old games. And in an age of integrated entertainment, some analysts suggest it won't be nearly as appealing.
I don't believe this for a minute. For hardcore gamers, the 360 or PS3 are the obvious choices. But I think families will stick with the Wii. As we head into a recession, the Wii looks like a bargain – and Nintendo could easily lower the price without cutting into its profit. For many adults, renting movies through a game machine just sounds confusing – whether it actually is or not. And while Xbox Live is optimized for gamers, Nintendo's online service sacrifices ease-of -use for security features that make parents feel better about who their kids are talking to. These kinds of features are why Nintendo is winning this round of the console war – and why it will keep on winning for at least another year.
At this time last year, Sony's video game business looked like it might take a beating. Sales of its PlayStation 3 lagged behind those of Microsoft's Xbox 360 and Nintendo's Wii. Sony's machine was more expensive – at least $400 compared to $250 for the Wii. And although the PS3 has more processing power than the others, few games have taken advantage of all the horsepower under its hood.
Now at the start of this year's E3 – the annual business conference that sets the tone for the industry – everything is different. Well, not everything: The Wii is still outselling the other machines, and Nintendo is still making more money than its rivals. But the PS3 suddenly looks like a good deal compared to the Xbox 360. This has very little to do with any difference in performance. At this point, most third-party publishers develop their PS3 and 360 games together, so any differences are minor. And though Microsoft has some impressive exclusives, including the "Halo" and "Gears of War" franchises, most analysts expect it to gain ground on its Redmond-based rival.
One reason the PS3 carried such a high price tag was Sony's decision to include a Blu-Ray player that could be used to view movies in that format. A couple of years ago, this seemed foolish – it doesn't do much for game play, there weren't many movies available and Sony was locked in a format war with Toshiba, which was promoting its HD DVD technology with help from Microsoft. Gamers didn't think the extra feature was worth the extra cash.
This winter, Sony won its format war – to the extent that Toshiba abandoned the format in February. Blu-Ray suddenly seems useful, if not quite necessary. And since video game console makers subsidize machines to make money on software, the PlayStation 3 looks like a bargain. It costs $400, while the most reasonable Blu-Ray player I could find on Amazon is going for $330. If you're in the market for a Blu-Ray player, you can get a next-generation video game machine for $70. If you're thinking about getting a Blu-Ray player, the idea of getting a next-generation game machine might push you over the edge. And if you're thinking of buying a video game machine and you're not sure which one you want, the PlayStation 3 fills two functions. (Perhaps most importantly, it's easier to justify spending $400 to a wife or girlfriend who likes movies.)
This won't hurt the Wii, which is a very different machine in a very different price range. (As I joke to friends, If you don't pick up a Wii for $250, you must just hate fun.) But it could cause problems for the Xbox 360. Microsoft does have some nice exclusive games, but Sony now has at least one exclusive hit in "Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots" and more on the way. Sony still lags in online features, but it is expected to announce plans to address that this week.
The video game business is once again a real horse race – great news for those of us who cover it. I'll weigh in again with a mid-week update on Wednesday.
If you repeat something often enough, people start to think it's true. That, more than any other reason, is why people seem to believe that Google follows its famous, unofficial motto: "Don't be Evil." As a branding exercise, the slogan was sheer genius.
Evil genius, that is.
When we talk about Google, we're talking about a company that controls much of the Internet and increasing chunk of the advertising business, as well as a staggering amount of data. Most of its information comes from Internet searches that don't have names attached, but could be guessed without much trouble. The company is extending its reach to street-level photographs, medical records, and genetic information. In a few years, Google may know more about you than you can remember yourself.
These days, however, Big Brother can't even take care of his younger siblings. This weekend New York Times columnist Joe Nocera wrote about what I'll christen "Kindergate" – the controversy over Google's changing childcare policy. On the surface, it seems like a typhoon in a teapot – a fight between members of the business elite over childcare perks in a country where many enjoy no such benefits. Dig in, though, and it's plenty disturbing.
As Nocera tells it, a Google employee named Susan Wojcicki decided to change Google's daycare system. At first, the "Kinderplex" was run by Childrens' Creative Learning Centers, but Wojcicki wanted to adapt Reggio Emilia – which sounds like a type of trendy cheese but is apparently a type of trendy education movement. You really have to read Nocera's piece for the details, but here's the upshot: "Parents who had been paying $1,425 a month for infant care would see their costs rise to nearly $2,500." (Usual disclosure: I write for the Times.)
From everything we've read about Google, the "best company to work for," according to Fortune, this doesn't sound realistic. But wait – it's worse. At a meeting to discuss the issue, company co-founder Sergey Brin said he was tired of employees who felt entitled to perks like "bottled water and M&Ms." This from a man who has a private jet. Journalistic convention compels me to note that a Google spokesperson denies that Brin said this, but I don't believe that for a minute.
What made this galling to many employees is that Wojcicki is Brin's sister-in-law, the person who rented the garage Google started in to him and co-founder Larry Page and the company's current vice-president for product management. Since Google's products do not (yet) include child care, one must assume that Wojcicki derives much of her authority from personal connections. At a public company, that's not good. At one of the world's biggest public companies, it's a minor scandal.
Google spokespeople and other writers have questioned whether this very minor scandal is worth an article in the Times, much less one that ran on the front page. I'd ask another question. After seeing how Google handles its internal affairs – which seem to be run partly by the whim of the co-founder's sister-in-law – how much do you trust them to handle your medical records?
Finally, George Lucas has gone from making movies that look like cartoons and video games to making cartoons and video games themselves. At least these products will be honest.
Personally, I'm not looking forward to Star Wars: The Clone Wars, which looks almost as cheesy as the infamous Star Wars Holiday Special. So far, Lucas also has a mixed record on the video games that have stretched out both the franchise and its financial performance. While the Rogue Squadron trilogy was great, the Battlefront games were about as entertaining as The Phantom Menace.
My new favorite – it came out in November, but I've been obsessed with it lately – is Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga. The game is exactly what it sounds like: a meta-licensed mash-up between Star Wars and Lego that offers gamers the chance to play through all six movies with Legoriffic incarnations of their favorite characters. This is both as ridiculous and as entertaining as it sounds. The cut scenes alone — which replay scenes from the movie with Lego spaceships and little Lego figures — are worth the price of admission.
Like the original Star Wars movie – I'm talking about the first film, not the first episode – Lego Star Wars shows that Lucas is best when he keeps it simple. Back in 1977, Star Wars dealt in pure childlike joy, and the Lego game does the same. Watching Darth Vader strut around on stubby little Lego legs just never gets old. If that doesn't make you smile, you probably hate puppies and kittens.
By the '90s, the movies got both too cute and too serious – filled with characters that seemed made for McDonald's Happy Meals and weighed down by both spiritual nonsense and political intrigue (what is the Trade Federation and why do I care?). Lucas's games went in the same direction. The massively multiplayer Star Wars Galaxies introduced fascinating ideas, but it had the depth and detail that fans demand of Lord of the Rings. In the world of Star Wars, no one cares how far planets are from each other – everything happens "far, far away."
Lego Star Wars throws all this seriousness right out the airlock. It's easy to accept Jedi mind tricks when they serve to build Lego bricks. And it's easier to suspend one's disbelief for Lego laser-gun fights than for Lucas's dialogue, which the game avoids in favor of sounds that serve to evoke emotions without getting specific. When Lego Jar Jar Binks no talk, he no sound like racist-y parody. If he still gets on your nerves, you can slice him up with a light saber.
The Clone Wars movie should be this much fun. But I doubt it will be.
The business world has never been easy to understand. But at some point, about a decade ago, it started getting much more confusing – on purpose. Laid-off employees were "right-sized" as company public relations statements became "media releases."
Nowhere is this more of a problem than the Internet. Or "Web 2.0" – which looks the same as the original Web, to me, except that it features "user-created content," or what we used to call "stuff written by amateur writers for free."
Britain's Local Government Association is now trying to disincentivize – sorry, discourage – this behavior by publishing a list of "non-words" that should be avoided. Among them is "thought-showers," which sounds like something that happens at a drunken party at an Internet convention but is really a new-fangled synonym for brainstorms.
I'd like to expand this idea to the world of technology, which is mired so deeply in jargon that it risks becoming out of sync with its community – or, in plain English, confusing the hell out of people.
Here are some of my nominations for words I never want to hear again:
Citizen journalism – Like the old joke about the Holy Roman Empire, this has little to do with citizens or journalism. Since "essays by legal residents" is a little wordy, just say "amateur political commentary" – journalism doesn't pay that much better, anyway.
First-mover – Where are you moving? Not near me, I hope. What's wrong with "first"?
Intellectual property holder – Why not just say "author?" Or "person whose content I just stole"?
Liquidity Event – This usually refers to an initial public offering. Just say "excuse to get a call girl." (See online community, below.)
Online community – A town is a community. A subculture is a community. The people who use a website are a "customer base" – especially if they're buying used couches or cruising for call girls. Or both.
Politics 2.0 – A Twitter-hosted duel of soundbites is not change I can believe in. And remember: Government 1.0 built the Internet in the first place.
Sticky content – Unless you're describing a porn page, just say that a site keeps users coming back.
Web 3.0 – I'm still sketchy on the exact definition of "Web 2.0," and this seems to be a low-rent way of implying that the word's user will make lots of money. If the site can be monetized, that is.
Last season on Heroes, my favorite show, one of the characters received a Nissan Rogue for her birthday. She really liked her Nissan Rogue.
Then her Nissan Rogue was stolen. And her father was very upset that she didn't take better care of her Nissan Rogue. This subplot, which had absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the show, was about as exciting as watching paint dry. On a Nissan Rogue.
In fact, the theft of the Nissan Rogue wasn't really a subplot at all – it was an ad in disguise. Nissan paid to get its Nissan Rogue in the show. Nissan might call this product placement or "embedded advertising." I call it a huge bore. If I wanted to find out more about the Nissan Rogue, I could go to a website about the Nissan Rogue.
Now the government is looking into regulating these "stealth ads," and it's about time. At a time when television viewers are both more able and more likely to fast-forward through traditional commercials, product placement isn't a bad business model. But viewers need to know the difference between shows that are trying to entertain them with stories about the Nissan Rogue and shows that are trying to sell them on the benefits of the Nissan Rogue.
One has to wonder whether anyone old enough to drive a Nissan Rogue is naïve enough to believe that a character on Heroes drives a Nissan Rogue because it makes sense for her to drive a Nissan Rogue rather than because the show's creators were paid to include a mention of the Nissan Rogue. But networks need to come clean, anyway.
Right now, the FCC requires that product placements be identified as such during a show, but this is usually done very quickly during the credits. Networks need to identify ads while they're appearing, by running a crawl across the bottom of the screen that marks them as such. If viewers can't fast-forward through ads for products like the Nissan Rogue, as they do now, they should at least be able to ignore them, as they've been doing for years.
Naturally, networks are complaining that running such announcements in the crawl will interfere with the flow of programming. An American Advertising Federation executive told USA Today that it would be "terribly disruptive." But would it be any more annoying than my constant mentions of the Nissan Rogue?
When Tim Russert died, most media reporters wrote obits or contributed to the endless on-air tributes. But at least one was on a plane en route to a weekend in Las Vegas paid for by the subject of a story.
A reasonable person might wonder what kind of media reporter could take such a freebie. That's easy: a blogger. And would you believe me if I told you that this particular blogger passes judgment on other reporters? Only on The Huffington Post, where a former Republican beard has decided that the glamour to attract writers and the gall to ask them to write for nothing is the journalistic formula of the future. Surprise: You get what you pay for.
The media reporter in question is Rachel Sklar, who doesn't let the fact that she's never done much reporting stop her from judging those who have. This, apparently, is her idea of a story: a report on a Las Vegas junket to promote the Thrillist email list. The fact that the URL of the story contains a reference to the nipple of a fellow blogger pretty much sums up the content. Then again, it also contains the word "exclusive." Hold Page One!
Let's leave aside any questions about how many people are interested in Thrillist. Or, for that matter, how many people are interested in a free trip a few bloggers took on their dime. (I suppose everyone online is interested in a nipple.) How can a media reporter take such a freebie, even if she cops to it? And how come no one else seems to care? Portfolio blogger Jeff Bercovici wrote a post that questioned how New York Post reporters were able to accept a free trip, but he didn't mention Sklar. (Full disclosure: I write for Portfolio, but not its website, and I don't know Bercovici.) Who watches the watchmen, indeed.
Most respectable publications have guidelines that allow writers to accept certain meals, not-so-valuable items they're writing about, and gifts up to a certain point. (A $10 bottle of wine might be allowed, for example, while a $500 trip to a winery would not.) Of course, most blogs aren't respectable. That's why marketing people love them – they're for sale. And not for very much money, to judge by Sklar's excitement about the extra freebies handed out on the plane. Judging from how impressed she is by vodka and a Zune, it's amusing to imagine what she'd write in return for a car.
Or, considering the fact that The Huffington Post has some political influence, maybe it's not so funny after all.
I spent about four hours over the weekend turning a steering wheel that wasn't connected to anything, driving a car that didn't exist through racetracks filled with mushrooms, bananas, and turtle shells that weren't really there.
This particular steering wheel was a game controller – more specifically, a new plastic housing for the "Wiimote" used with the Nintendo Wii. I was using it to play Mario Kart Wii, the newest version of Nintendo's popular series of racing games. And the hours just sort of disappeared.
As you'd guess from my description of the mushrooms and bananas, the Mario Kart series isn't exactly realistic. The tracks are fanciful – castles, jungles, or ski slopes named after the various characters that have appeared in different Mario games. (At this point, there are too many to keep track.) The go-carts and motorcycles share the same demented design sensibility. And the races are regularly interrupted by unlikely items that the competitors can throw at each other – from bananas that make the karts skid out of control to mushrooms that give them bursts of speed.
To me, these are all good things. In fact, every Mario Kart game I've ever played has been my favorite racing game at the time – precisely because it's so unrealistic.
Developers making video games that simulate a real activity – baseball or football as opposed to, say, space combat – face difficult choices about how realistic those simulations should be. Many gamers treasure touches of reality, like the painstakingly re-created cars and tracks in Gran Turismo 4. Others, like me, just look for fun. Realistic driving games have more crashes, since real cars can't take hairpin turns at top speed – much less get a speed boost from a mushroom. And I love that. If I want to drive a car, I don't need a video game to do it.
If I want to drive a go-kart and race against a gorilla, however, where else am I going to go? And Mario Kart Wii does have its own odd sort of internal logic, in that items behave the same way they do in other Mario games. The new title even features tracks from older versions, along with some new ones, which gives the series a kind of connectivity.
All this makes the game as addictive as it is unrealistic. And now, if I see a turtle shell come toward me on the highway, I'll know how to handle it.
When Apple's iPhone came out last summer, techies had a couple of complaints: It wouldn't work on the fast "3G" networks that make it practical to use the Internet and it didn't have a GPS. The rest of us just had one: The price.
Yesterday Apple introduced the iPhone 2.0, which solves all three problems. The speed makes it practical to download music and short video clips from anyplace within range of a 3G network, not only an open WiFi node. The GPS makes one of the device's killer apps, Google Maps, work even better. It also makes the iPhone an obvious value. Now that it costs $199, or $299 for a version with more memory, it's competitive with high-design phones that don't have GPS, let alone a touch screen.
In the long run, the iPhone may not be such a bargain. As the Apple 2.0 blog points out, AT&T raising its monthly service fee by $10 – $240 over a two-year contract – which wipes out any savings. Since customers care much more about sticker price, Apple will almost certainly sell many more phones – perhaps enough to eventually challenge the BlackBerry.
More importantly, it means that Apple is changing its iPhone business strategy. The initial idea was to create a closed system, then share in the revenue generated by mobile operators like AT&T. Now Apple seems to be more interested in dominating the mobile market, encouraging the growth of third-party software applications and collecting various vigs on the entire business. That's a profound change. As Steve Jobs hagiographer Steven Levy trumpteted, "Today marked the official transformation of Jobs's original vision of the iPhone — from a world-beating product to a contender for the first big operating system of the 21st century."
To grasp how significant this is, keep in mind how much it has in common with the strategy of Apple's arch-rival: Microsoft. The parallels are inexact, since Microsoft never made devices. But it's not as though the iPhones are made in California. Apple really is establishing an operating system, even if it's one that happens to come with hardware. And it may be the only way that an electronics company can succeed. Any device that can easily be copied will be made in China – either by companies that push the price down or outright rip-off artists. There's just not that much profit in making televisions or computers anymore. Only the iPod has resisted this trend, because the code inside the device is harder to copy than its design. The iPhone works the same way. Long after consumers have tired of its slick look, they'll still like the multi-touch interface.
Steve Jobs may have been pushed to the margins of the personal computer business. But he's just become a serious contender in mobile media.
In the past few months, I've had another reason to feel better about not living in the suburbs. My usual reason is that I grew up in the burbs – Stamford, Conn., to be exact – and I'm still traumatized by its ‘broad lawns and narrow minds.' And now, although New York City can seem like the most expensive place on earth, the suburbs suddenly don't seem like such a bargain.
Sure, I pay $3000 a month for a one-bedroom apartment. But my heating bill is zero, my electricity bill is usually about $50 and my transportation costs rarely top $30 a week, including a taxi or two. (I do own a car, but it's more of a hobby than a mode of transportation.) And although my rent and living expenses will go up, as everyone's do, they're not increasing nearly as quickly as those of people who live in the suburbs, who have big houses to heat and big cars to drive.
Fact is, amid its dirt and grime, New York City is relatively green, since most people use public transportation, take taxis for relatively short distances and live in large buildings that don't cost much to heat. Newer fancier exurbs, with their McMansions and SUVs, may be full of gardens and green spaces, but they're environmental disasters. So much energy is required to heat some of those houses – especially those with grand two-story entryways that allow the heat to rise – and they're so far away from anything that the people who live in them have to spend a good deal of money on gas. With houses spread so far apart, bicycles and public transportation simply aren't practical.
In an age of $4-per-gallon gasoline, that lifestyle suddenly looks more expensive. (And if the price of oil keeps rising, who's to say we won't be looking at $5 per gallon by the end of the year?) This couldn't come at a worse time, especially for those who live in the outlying suburbs. In general, those communities have already grown less desirable as cities get safer and longer work hours make short commutes more important. That's why Real Estate prices are mostly falling faster in the exurbs than in cities. (This is obviously a generalization, but I think it's true in enough places to qualify as a trend.)
What happens now? Many families that pushed themselves to buy in the exurbs are already stressed by falling home prices, and in some cases by adjustable rate mortgages. Now they also have rising fuel prices to contend with – especially if they live in colder climates. What happens when they try to sell their houses and potential buyers realize how much their commutes will cost?