Written by: John J. Hater
A YouTube version of this article for the hearing and visual impaired:
On a rainy day some years ago, hundreds lined up with and without umbrellas for the release of the iSomethingorother outside the Apple Store in Springfield, USA. In attendance was Mark Zuckerberg, who decided to go out in public despite his publicist’s better interests, because he “wanted to see how human beings lived.”
Photo courtesy of cleveredfool.com.
“Down with privacy!” he shouted, awkwardly grinning from side to side as if thought he knew how to speak in public. The crowd suddenly realized it was Zuckerberg, and they started staring in wonderment. It was a terrifying moment for the media mogul and, as he loosened his belt, plopped down his pants and shat on the sidewalk, he whispered to a group of admiring teens beside him “Practice what you preach.”
He then captured a pigeon, slit its throat, and began to eat. “We eat what we like.”
Inside sat Steve Jobs, who was making a surprise appearance at the store, just coincidentally, on the same day Mark Zuckerberg decided to go outside.
“Down with clutter!” shouted Jobs as he hoisted an iPad into the air, implying as he had all along that a product is only at its final stage when even discriminating consumers know little of its creation or innermost contents. As the great Gothic writer/homeless person Edgar Allan Poe (Pobo) once said, a creator would “positively shudder at letting the public take a peep behind the scenes.” Because what is sacred if not the image of perceived genius? It goes farther than any undertaking in reverse engineering – Jobs and Zuckerberg are secretive not because they would be revealing too much to competitors, but because they are members (low-ranking, at that) of a secret organization called the Free-Basements.
Edgar Allen Poe. The quintessential image of perceived genius. Photo from the public domain.
The Basement Order is made up mostly of men who have spent at least half of their lives in a basement or garage somewhere constructing things in the hopes of controlling a significant portion of the population with “innovation” as the replacement word for “world domination”. Bill Gates used to be a member, but he started giving too much of his fortune away to charity, which is one of the conditions of membership (no philanthropy permitted).
Gathering himself, Zuckerberg cleaned his bottom with the morning edition of a local newspaper and tossed the soiled rag into the arms of a disturbed-looking fanboy beside him. A day later on eBay, the newspaper would sell for $100,000 to a visual artist who thought he could double his money pitching the item to a museum of contemporary crap art. I was that fanboy.
His duty done, Mark sped to the front of the line and rushed through the gauntlet of Apple employees who were rallying the crowd for the big opening. Inside he found Steve Jobs admiring a bagel and cream cheese.
“It’s so simple, the bagel. Such perfection of form – and the cream cheese as this great mediator between one half and its identical other! It’s truly one of man’s greatest innovations.”
Zuckerberg flashed the super secret Free-Basements hand signal to Jobs (a winking frown and a subtle pelvic thrust, then a 67-degree head tilt to the left), who responded in kind by closing his eyes and smirking.
“Free-base for life,” whispered Zuckerberg to Jobs.