Go Flock Yourself ? Scoble Nights - The Chirp

A waiter bumps into him as he eases into his seat. Robert never sits in the aisle but tonight it's not his call. Familiar faces surround the table. He's seen them all before but tonight is different. There's tension in the air. Something exciting is about to happen, and damn if he's going to miss it.

Sometimes he doesn't like it when Tara calls him out to these gigs. It's hard to take a break from the blog. Even with his gadgets, he's lost in the poor coverage of the restaurant. He can't seek advice. He can't answer questions. He can't spin the week's latest gaffe. Sometimes it's entirely too much, but tonight he needs the break. Scoble grumbles to himself anyway, recalling countless late-night calls to Cingular agents in Bangalore.

Chris Messina sits down and offers a toast, breaking the trance. Some nights Robert looks into that piddling goatee and sees nothing: a dark, empty, soulless void. Tonight he sees new possibilities. That man's got something that he wants.

She'd told him about it on the phone.

He remembers the night. The wife and kid had gone to sleep, and he'd been alone in front of the harsh backlight of a Dell 2001FP, idly browsing his frappr groups. When he least expected it, a shrill chirp came out of his junk drawer.

"Oh right, the Boost", he recalled. He'd forgotten about that piece of junk. A few drunken entrepreneurs in the Haight one time tried to convince him that "chirp" and RSS was the new synergy and had given him some junk moto to carry around, so he could wait for those important thoughts which only half-duplex audio can convey. That night it bore Tara's voice and she sounded urgent.

"Chris is going to show you what you're missing. I'll call on Thursday. beepbeep"

Staring into his Sushi, Robert wonders what he's been missing. He has a successful weblog, a cozy position at a corporate powerhouse, geek dinners twice weekly, and enough gadgets to survive the apocalypse but something is not there. Does this metrosexual fool across the table have the answer? Does anyone?

Our protagonist doesn't have a chance to think before Chris beckons him aside.

"I have the answer, Robert."

"It's social. It's open. It's free."

Robert thinks he's heard this before.

"This isn't about your shitty little"

Chris cuts him off.

"It's viral."

Robert is intrigued.

now why does this sound like shades of Gibson's Pattern Recognition to me ?


  1. william gibson
  2. scoble
  3. flock yourself

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