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Andy Ihnatko's Celestial Waste of Bandwidth (BETA)

The blog of Andy Ihnatko, internationally-beloved technology pundit.

Postscript to The Ghoulish Press ReleaseJune 28

And now Billy Mays is dead. Hours later, I received, yes, a press release associated with what we can legitimately call a tragedy. He was 50 years old and seemingly in good health, and leaves behind a wife and kids.

But this press release wasn’t opportunistic at all: it’s from an agency representing the CEO of TeleBrands, who knew and worked with Mays for more than 15 years. It struck me as sweet and thoughtful. The family has indicated a desire to grieve in private and this press release comes across as a desire to help relieve some of the family’s burdens as media outlets prepare their coverage and try to gain a better knowledge of the man. There’s not a single mention of the accomplishments of the CEO or his company. Just a simple notice that he knew Mays well and is making himself available to comment on the story.

It’d be unprofessional and awkward for me to reply this way to a press release, so I’ll say it here: this release is PR done exactly right.

The Mainstream MediaJune 28

Okay, I’m making a new rule: whenever I’m reading something online and I see the phrase “The Mainstream Media,” I’m instantly deducting 40 credibility points from the author. It’s a meaningless phrase its use indicates laziness, sloppiness, or a line of thought that was only half-formed to begin with.

Worst, it’s often a cheap debating technique, best used by con men to imply a closeness with the reader. “You know that individual or organization that you can’t stand? C’mon, you know the one I’m talking about, right? Well, hey! I can’t stand it or him or her either! Why, buying an above-ground pool from me will be like buying it from your best friend!”

But chiefly let’s stick to the problem that “the mainstream media” is a meaningless term. I write a column for a great metropolitan newspaper. I’m part of the Mainstream Media, right? But what happens when I blog here? Whoops, no. I’m a Citizen Journalist. Damn, and then I screwed it all up by appearing on CBS. No! Wait! I think I saved it by doing a podcast.

What?

Well, yes: MacBreak is sponsored by ads.

Oh, come on. At best, that makes it part of the “…am Media.”

Do you see the problem? When you say “the mainstream media” you’re not communicating. You’re just making mouth sounds.

If you have a problem with a certain journalist, publication, or newscast, then why dilute the impact of your commentary by spreading the blame? Aim

Better Make Hay…Michael’s Body Ain’t Gettin’ Any WarmerJune 26

When I heard about Michael Jackson’s death (while navigating from the channel Dad’s TV was on to the Red Sox game on NESN), I sort of braced myself for what I knew was coming: a barrage of insanely opportunistic and optimistic press releases.

It follows every Big, Sad News Event. It’s terribly unfortunate that tens of thousands of people died in that tsunami off the Indian Ocean, but if nothing else it only underscores the need for a reliable, offsite network backup service such as BackRemotePro.com…et cetera.

I can sort of forgive most of these things. PR people are like lawyers. They’re not paid to serve the needs of the public or even good taste; they’re paid to think of their clients and their clients alone. And frankly, it’s not completely irrational to think that a tech columnist might be interested by the fact that your social networking service stayed online and in operation even when traffic exploded a hundredfold in the space of just ten minutes.

That is, I don’t think I’ll be writing about this today, while the tabloids are still bidding on Jackson’s autopsy photos. But in a few months, when I need to make a point about load balancing and traffic spikes? I just might search my Inbox for it.

So noted. But the world’s PR agencies are on notice that the contest is closed and the Honeybaked Ham Gift Voucher has been awarded. No more entries, please: I have officially received the most bald-faced and shameless bit of

Free Comic Book Day: The Grad-School ThesisMay 2

Congress has not seen fit to OK a national Free Slab Of Hot, Crisp Bacon Day. But the comics industry has Free Comic Book Day, which is a step in the right direction.

I’ve just made my rounds of my usual shop: The Outer Limits in Waltham, MA. They had a great turnout in the past hour…and of all the right people. Lots of parents were bringing their kids in, which was a cheery sight.

Best quote of the hour, overheard as a father pored through back issues of “Iron Man” with his son. “Look for ones where the armor is simple red and gold,” he counseled. “The ones where they do weird things with the armor are usually the bad ones.”

It brought a tear to my eye and made me wish I had a child to share my accumulated life wisdom with.

I also liked the sibling dynamics on display. The shop imposed a limit if six free comics per person. Most of the big publishers produce an array of Free Comics for the event, which this store augments with some of it’s own inventory. Call it 18 to 20 different free comics

So here comes the child psychology. You’re here with your two siblings. If you pool your resources, you can run the table and come home with the whole library.

OR…you can come home with just a third of them. AND you won’t have to share them with anybody.

I honestly don’t know which response indicates a better-adjusted kid and family.

EbertFest: “Let The Right One In”April 27

VAGUE SPOILERS AHEAD: “Let The Right One In” is probably a good movie to go in and see without any advance knowledge of the subject.

Photo: Chaz and Roger Ebert introduce Carl Molinder, the producer of “Let The Right One In.”

Just when you think that horror is dead and that vampire movies are deader than undead, along comes “Let The Right One In.” This movie restored my childlike faith in a perfect world populated by unstoppable, remorseless mockeries of all of God’s creations.

It was a welcome throwback to good old-fashioned creepfest horror of the Seventies. Modern horror is utterly toothless. It’s torture porn. You walk into the theater where you watch attractive people make their way through a charnel-ey edition of Willy Wonka’s candy factory. You make a note never to backpack through Ecuador with horny teens without first checking with TripAdvisor to see if there are any secret colonies founded by former Third Reich senior officers along the route. And then you move on with your life.

True horror is inescapable. I exit the theater and (goddamn it) I’m in a world that’s not different enough from the one I just left. Any kid in a stroller I see on the way to my car could be Rosemary’s Baby.

Doubly-creepy: a happy ending. We know better, of