I hastily type this preliminary dispatch from an undisclosed location on the 23rd floor of the Rio Las Vegas to give you a preview of my upcoming report from the front.
It’s been a freezing, overcast and haunting few days, and there is still another day to go. The locals tell me that it isn’t always freezing, overcast and haunting around here, but I’m hesitant to believe anything they say since they seem to nervously look over their shoulders quite often. More than people who live in cities with reasonably acceptable levels of vice and corruption.
When I arrive back in Los Angeles I will do my best to provide a full report, or what passes for a full report, but be forewarned that it may include such potentially disturbing things as:
- Driving to Las Vegas takes, like, a really long time
- You (our customers) don’t trust us
- Cults would be great marketers
- Ford wants to be your bro, man!
- Moderators mocking panel members
- Why is Guinness Lager sponsoring this…this…hey!…what do they call this thingy again? WOO!
- This session is like an 80s mosh pit
- Guy Kawasaki cursing like a sailor
- UFC President Dana White cursing less than Guy Kawasaki
- An exhibition hall full of crickets and awkward silence
- Why is this club sandwich $128?
- Leo Laporte calling for the death of “old media”
- Maybe something about Penn & Teller
And that doesn’t even include whatever happens tomorrow.
If I make it home, I will tell the tale. Until then, pray for me.