My Mac Celebrity Crib

Hey, yo, y’all. Guess who was on Mac Celebrity Cribs?

Wrong! It was me!

Mac Celebrity Cribs from John Moltz on Vimeo.

See, it’s easy to be on a show when you just make it up! It’s a fun game you can play at home by yourself!

(Ages 5 and up. Children should consult an adult when uploading video of themselves to the Internet. Refills available for $30/each. Mac Celebrity Cribs is a product of Giant Squid Productions, LLC, and all rights are reserved.)

72 thoughts on “My Mac Celebrity Crib”

  1. Nice view. I’d never get anything done there.
    I mean, it’s not like I get a lot done now…

    Um.. yeah… Anyway…

    How can we star in Mac Celebrity Cribs?

    …the cake is a lie….

  2. Two observations after actually watching the video:

    1) Low-angle camera shots are nobody’s friend.

    2) Careful to whom you show that LiS shrine.

    Don’t you have an original iBook to go with that battery?

  3. It’s not the cleanest it’s ever been but I did actually clean up a little for that.

    I was actually on TwitLive with Leo doing live coverage of the Keynote on Monday. Very gracious of him to have a slob like me on.

    You can star in Mac Celebrity Cribs any time! You’ve had the power all along! Just click your heels together three times and buy a Flip Video camera and…

  4. That view might explain why John never gets anything done. Wait, I didn’t mean to say that!
    I’m sure he has a fine career doing whatever it is that he does.

  5. Wait, John Moltz is real? According to Wikipedia, he’s just a figment of John Gruber’s imagination. Kind of like A Beautiful Mind, only not make believe. What’s going on?

  6. But sort of manly and platonically, right? Kind of in a Band of Brothers kind of way.

    Yeah, I’ll just assume that’s what you meant.

  7. Nice view!
    Kept my attention for, what, … two -three minutes?
    My cat, however, was riveted for the whole hour!

  8. Oh my *god*. Moltz is a *geek*. I can’t believe it. I feel empty and embarrassed. Even worse than I did after ‘Alien Resurrection’.

    I mean, who knew?

    I’m not sure I can fraternise with this site any more. I have enough trouble getting laid as it is.

    Even now I’m married.

    In fact, *especially* now I’m married.

  9. Twenty-frakkin’-two…

    I hate even numbers. Oh wait, it’s a double prime so that’s alright then.

    Hey John, is that a new hairpiece? It looks GOOD!

  10. Good to see you John.
    Obviously conditions in American psychiatric institutions are far superior to UK equivalents. Like that new padding disguised as wooden slat floor. painted walls and window and it’s staggering how lifelike soft foam mouldings have become.
    Touch up the grey in the sideburns and you’ll only LOOK seventy.
    Vaya con carne.

  11. Great idea! Someone reposted your video on our website, and I might encourage our listeners to follow suit.

  12. Mr. Moltz,

    I don’t want to get all anal on your ass, but you’ve titled it My Mac Celebrity Crib and then proceeded to point out everything in the room but the crib itself. Your pussyfooting around the crib, only showing it peripherally, amounts to criminal teasing.

    Show us the damn crib!



  13. On reflection and the contents of several bottles of Pironi, I have decided that John’s greying hair is distinguished or is it extinguished? One of the two, I’m not sure.
    Funny how the floor keeps jumping up and hitting me……………………….. …………………………..

  14. John,

    Where’s that giant Apple Cinema Display that your readers sent you to show their appreciation?

  15. Two thoughts:

    1. Get a Steadicam or a cameraman.

    2. Most nausea-inducing video due to camera motion since Blair Witch or Adama’s desk clearing scene in the mid-season finale of BSG.

  16. I am rendered speechless…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

  17. Blank, would you kindly add “Warning! Warning!” before item 2)? Thank you. Otherwise, it’s just fine and ready to go to production.

  18. CE, where were you when I needed you?

    In my own defense, I was still dazed from the shock of stumbling upon a new CARS post. When I found I was the first one here, confusion was inevitable.

    Since we can’t edit comments, the best I can do is fix it here.

    2) Warning! Warning! Careful to whom you show that LiS shrine.

  19. Thank you very much, Blank. Both my anus and I feel relieved now.

    So to speak.

  20. The following is a consolidated transcript of security camera footage recorded on June 16, 2008 by interior cameras 2-12, 2-4, and 2-7 and exterior camera 5-2. It has been prepared in support of the landlord’s response to a formal complaint submitted by tenant Daikiitako Food Imports, LLC, on June 17, 2008.

    ***** BEGIN TRANSCRIPT — SEGMENT 1 OF 3 *****

    The initial view is of the entrance to office suite 242, the current tenant of which is “Daikiitako Shokuryou Yunyuu LLC” (Giant Octopus Food Imports LLC). (It is significant to note at this point that this same suite was, ironically, previously occupied by Giant Squid Productions LLC.)

    The sign on the door is in Japanese characters. “ 大きい蛸食糧輸入 LLC” are cast in a tasteful gold-tinted block form and set against a pleasing red background. Beneath these kanji is the company’s logo, which gracefully portrays a giant octopus with its tentacles wrapped dominantly around the Earth. (Note that the artwork looks remarkably similar to a sketch former tenant John Moltz once drew in crayon at the office late one night with the doors locked, which he subsequently left face down and forgotten on the hat rack of the office coat closet when he moved out… only Moltz’s sketch depicted the tentacles as being wrapped around the planet-sized head of a Mr. Rob Enderle.)

    Two men are seen conversing and standing just inside the open main doorway of suite 242. One man is identified as the suite’s principal tenant, Noriuke Satsugai; the other is Bruce Butkis, an employee of Kuller-O’Munny Environmental Consultants (tenant of suite 220). (Information obtained separately from Mr. Butkis indicates that he was speaking to Mr. Satsugai at that time simply to welcome him and his company to the building.)

    “I was beginning to think that no one would ever lease this office!” spouts Bruce bluntly.

    “Uh?” Satsugai-san responds haltingly, in a manner that is usually denoted in Japanese media subtitles as “…” “Why so?” he asks in a politely curious tone.

    “Well, right after the previous tenant left, there was some sort of leak or something. Somebody said it shorted out the wiring. And then there was that awful smell!” Bruce looks around the room and wrinkles his nose slightly.

    “Sumeru?” asks Satsugai, clearly surprised. Noticing Bruce’s twitching nose, he anxiously sniffs the air and turns around as though Bruce just spotted something sneaking up behind him. He turns back to face Bruce. “What sumeru?” he asks innocently.

    “Well, I,…” stammers Bruce. He begins to blush as he realizes he’s in the process of insulting his new office neighbor. “I mean, not everyone appreciates the odo… uh… the distinctive aroma of rot… uh… of carefully aged fish,” he elaborates, smiling weakly. Bruce is now looking hopeful that he might have just saved himself from embarrassment.

    Satsugai-san appears to be suddenly enlightened. “Ah! Soo desu, neh?!” he exclaims with a big, warm smile. “We thought that there was something very special about this office!”

    Bruce seems to not want to take any further risks for now. “Well, once again, welcome to the building. Glad to make your acquaintance!”

    Satsugai-san deftly pulls a business card wallet from his pocket, neatly slips a card from its interior, re-pockets the wallet, and then uses both hands to offer the card to Bruce. “Doozo,” he says courteously.

    Bruce casually keeps one hand in his pocket and takes the card with the other. “Thanks,” he says nonchalantly. “That’s funny,” he chuckles carelessly while admiring the miniature artwork in his hand.

    “Fahnny?” asks Satsugai-san, looking sincerely puzzled.

    Bruce looks a little anxious again, but continues. “Well, the last company that was in here was called ‘Giant Squid Productions.’ It’s quite a coincidence that you have a squid on your business card!”

    Satsugai suddenly seems concerned and tries to look at the card he just gave to Bruce without actually asking him to hand it back. “Ika, desu ka?” he asks himself softly in a worried tone. He sees the expected octopus, and relaxes at this affirmation. He smiles and points at the card as politely as anyone could possibly point.

    “Tako,” he says confidently. “Ahkutopusu,” he adds in translation.

    Bruce, a bit surprised, looks back at the business card to see if there was something bizarre that he may have missed. “An octopus taco?” he asks, his jaw slackening incredulously.

    “Ah,” says Satsugai, his smile looking a little strained. “Tako … Japanese for octopus!”

    “Oh!” replies Bruce, nodding and laughing as understanding is finally achieved. “Tako!” he repeats, pointing at the picture on the card.

    “Soo da!” (“That’s right!”) says Satsugai enthusiastically, his smile once again sincere, but mostly from relief.

    Bruce, once again surprised yet hoping to return Satsugai’s courtesy, replies by pointing down the hallway and responding, “Uh, there’s a drink machine just down the hall…”

    Satsugai-san makes a sort of hissing sound as he inhales through the tightly clenched teeth of his forced smile. Fortunately for everyone, his assistant dashes out of another room inside the suite, comes up to them, bows quickly, and says “Sumimasen, Satsugai-san! Sayuushoku no jikan desu!’ (“Excuse me, Mr. Satsugai! It’s lunch hour!”) He bows again quickly and waits anxiously for acknowledgement, which Satsugai quickly provides.

    “Arigatou, Kosakumoto-san,” he says. The assistant dashes back into the other room as Satsugai-san redirects his attention to Bruce.

    “I am sorry, Burusu-san. It is time for our luncheon now. It has been a pleasure speaking with you.”

    Bruce smiles as he senses the tension has been relieved. “Oh, yeah, sure.” He extends his hand to Satusgai. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

    Satsugai shakes Bruce’s hand quickly and then waits for him to leave. Bruce wisely turns, heads out the door, and wanders down the hall toward his office. (A review of other security camera footage recorded later in the day reveals that, after much deliberation, Bruce’s lunch consisted of two tacos de pescado and a large Coke.)

    ***** END SEGMENT 1 OF 3 *****

  21. ***** BEGIN SEGMENT 2 OF 3 *****

    Back in suite 242, a bustle of activity bursts from the interior room as four young assistants bring out a folding table, chairs, and lots of dining accessories. In mere moments the table is set up, covered by a lovely burgundy tablecloth topped by a pure white table runner, and adorned with bowls, chopsticks, knives, and a small rectangular plate of steaming hot hand towels. Satsugai seats himself at a prominent position at the table, and the assistants (except for Kosakumoto) follow suit at their appropriate places. A neatly dressed office lady appears at the door of the interior room. She takes the plate of hand towels and offers one to each of the men, and then collects the re-folded cloths once they’ve wiped their hands and faces. Everyone at the table sits politely upright and still, waiting for their luncheon to be delivered.

    It is precisely 12:00 Noon.

    Kosakumoto, who has been standing nervously by the window looking out expectantly and glancing frequently at his watch, sees the bento delivery truck careen madly into the parking lot outside. He watches as a frantic delivery man jumps out, runs around to the back of the truck, throws open the doors, and pulls out a tall stack of neat boxes topped by a large, over-filled, brown paper sack. The delivery man kicks the doors of the van shut and runs toward the office building, his unstable cargo teetering precariously in front of him.

    Meanwhile, back inside the building and a short distance down the hallway from suite 242, a flickering, warping disturbance forms in the air at about waist height. The distortion grows both in size and brightness, and shimmers like sun-lit waters. With a sudden flash and a “pop,” Tentaculous materializes in the middle of this disturbance, about a foot off the floor. A split-second later, he drops down onto the carpet with a mushy plop, liberally splattering slime everywhere.

    “I hate it when that happens,” Tentaculous grumbles to himself.

    Tentaculous quickly regains his composure and assumes a moistly intimidating stance appropriate to his galactic reputation. Instead of relying on devices scavenged from nearby offices as he did last time, he now carries with him two high-tech weapons of considerable potential. In his left-front tentacle he wields a fully-charged Arcturan Laser-Prod; in his right-front he sports a three-quarter-size replica of the legendary Rapier of Zarkulon (which, for Zarkulon fans, is pretty awesome, even if it isn’t the full-size version). Despite his normal pink, squishy nature, Tentaculous akshuly be rollin’ like Rambo.

    Tentaculous chortles quietly in a way that signifies everything is going according to his clever plan. He begins slithering stealthily down the hall toward the former CARS Worldwide Headquarters, leaving a slimy trail behind him.

    “Sooo, Moltz!” he gurgles to himself with great satisfaction. “You thought you could throw me off with your silly little ‘hiatus’ ruse, didn’t you? Thought I wouldn’t realize that you’d snucked… uh, snooked… uh,… crept back to your pathetic little lair, eh? You didn’t expect that I’d keep following your posts on the Crazy Apple Rumor Site, did you? Did you?! Well, now I’ve got the drop on you, my unsuspecting adversary! And finally — FINALLY — I’m going to have my glorious victory, once and for all!”

    Tentaculous approaches the former CARS doorway to where he can see the inscrutable Daikiitako name and its elaborate logo. His body distorts slightly in a way that similar cephalopod-like beings would interpret as a derisive smirk.

    “Really, John!” scoffs Tentaculous disdainfully. “Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t figure out that those figures spell ‘Giant Squid Productions LLC’ in Chinese! You insult my intelligence! And I hope you didn’t think that swapping an octopus for a squid would throw me off your trail! Honestly!”

    “Well, Moltz,” he flutters with even greater resolve than before, “you’re going to be sorry you ever tried to play Tentaculous for the fool! Prepare yourself for your inevitable defeat, because here I come!”

    Remarkably, Tentaculous leaps agilely into the air like a jellyfish propelling itself through the water. Artfully brandishing his impressive weapons, he has set his trajectory so as to alight, ready for action, exactly at the center of the open doorway to suite 242.

    ***** END SEGMENT 2 OF 3 *****

  22. ***** BEGIN SEGMENT 3 OF 3 *****

    As Tentaculous makes his battle-lunge, the door of the elevator down the hallway opens, and the bento delivery man flies out with his goods still barely in his grasp. The man rounds the corner and unavoidably steps in the persistent trail of slippery slime. He and his freight go flying spectacularly into the air just as Tentaculous, emanating a blood-chilling “HYAAAH!” lands at the suite’s doorway with a resounding thud-splat. Cartons, boxes, cups, and bags all empty themselves of their contents in mid-air, while the hapless delivery man flails about trying to catch them. Tentaculous, now frozen in his dramatic pose, suddenly finds himself being pelted all over by wads of sticky rice, colorful garnishes, sauces, and countless varieties of sushi and sashimi. For his part, the delivery man is heroically able to collect all of the containers before they hit the ground — except for one little cup of wasabi, which lands, contents-side down, right on top of what most reasonable people would agree is Tentaculous’ forehead. The delivery man finally skids to a stop on two widely spaced feet right behind Tentaculous, with his one arm full of empty containers and his other arm bracing himself against the doorframe. As has become his habit after many years in business, the delivery man instinctively (and breathlessly) announces to his astonished patrons, “Your luncheon is here!”

    As fate would have it, all of the food has fallen onto Tentaculous in such a way as to yield a wonderfully appetizing presentation. He is rimmed neatly and symmetrically with a ring of rice, onto which has evenly dropped delectable samples of tuna, mackerel, sea bass, and other tasty-looking seafood. His previously empty back tentacles now hold skewers laden with crispy shrimp tempura, and a savory combination of soy and teriyaki sauces are slowly trickling everywhere down his succulent pink skin. Even the cup of wasabi complements the culinary decor: it looks like a charmingly cute little hat — the kind of thing you might expect Hello Kitty to wear — cocked jauntily on his head. A napkin stained with red salmon roe has stuck to the tip of the Rapier of Zarkulon in such a way as to make it look like a little Japanese flag on a slender flagpole, and the sticky sauce has shorted out Tentaculon’s Laser-Prod so that it is reduced to fizzling like a decorative sparkler.

    In a matter of seconds, Tentaculous has been miraculously transformed from lethally ominous to festively scrumptious.

    From their seats inside the office, the employees of Daikiitako Food Imports react as though they have just witnessed an incredibly magnificent performance of acrobatic culinary skill, far exceeding anything they ever could have seen at any hibachi steakhouse, even in Osaka. They sit silent and stunned as they survey what has been laid out before them.

    “Wow!” says Kosakumoto, his mouth hanging open in awe. “You guys serve really big portions!”

    There is a sudden burst of applause as the Daikiitako party expresses their gratitude for the skill and artistry to which they have just been treated. The delivery man, still staggering as he struggles to keep his footing on the slick floor, manages to smile meekly in uncertain acknowledgement. The applause subsides, and all the assistants whip out their cell phones to snap pictures of the ostensible oriental buffet.

    Tentaculous can see the people seated in front of him, but his vision appears blurred by the sauces that have run into his eyes. He shakes his eye stalks to clear away the goo and then looks at them again. By now, all the assistants have put away their cell phones and eagerly picked up their knives and chopsticks.

    A delighted Satsugai claps his hands together one more time. “Itadaki masu!” (“I humbly receive this!”) he exclaims with a broad smile on his face. “Itadaki masu!” repeat the assistants, both reverently and menacingly.

    Even though Tentaculous doesn’t appear to understand Japanese, he also doesn’t appear to like what he sees developing in front of him. He breaks into a sweat — which, unfortunately for him, adds to the sauce that covers him a piquant, aromatic tang that is particularly appealing to the Asian palate. He tries to move backward from the crowd that is now rising from their seats, but the sauce and his own slime have combined to make it impossible for him to get any traction — and his vain wriggling about only serves to convey a strong impression of superior quality and freshness.

    “Uh… you… you guys haven’t seen John Moltz, have you?” Tentaculous asks tentatively as he keeps trying to slip away.

    The dining party momentarily stops and turns to look at Satsugai.

    “Jyann Morutsu ka?” repeats Satsugai. His face takes on a thoughtful look as he pauses just a moment to remember. “Ah! Previous tenant!” he suddenly recalls. “No, he left here months ago!” he says. The crowd refocusses their attention on Tentaculous and renews their advance.

    “Oh,” says Tentaculous weakly, shrinking back from the toothy smiles and glistening knives. “Well, I must be going then! Goodbye!”

    There is a barely perceptible contraction just above Tentaculous’ third tentacle on his left side. Suddenly he appears to be stretching strangely, and then he looks like he’s at the bottom of a wavy pool. As that pool begins to glow, getting brighter and brighter, the humans anxiously move back from him. A wet, shimmering sound builds in the air and gets louder and louder. Above the growing din, the humans hear Tentaculous shout.

    “Damn you, Moltz! Damn you and your fracking hiatus! You’ll pay for this!” he screams.

    There is a bright flash, a loud “Pon!” and suddenly Tentaculous is gone. No longer supported by tentacles, three skewers of shrimp tempura drop into the messy slop left on the floor.

    Everyone in the room stares disappointedly at the empty space where Tentaculous was writhing only moments before. No one says a word. The indefatigable delivery man gingerly steps over the wasted food and, smiling sheepishly, hands a bill to the scowling Satsugai.

    ***** END OF TRANSCRIPT *****

  23. Jeepers, that Office Security Camera is more articulate than the rest of us combined! As far I’m concerned it easily passes the Turing Test and should be issued a green card immediately.

  24. Ace, don’t be so hasty. Alan was very involved in the stereo record and that video camera is mono.

  25. Loved it, great work!

    Okay, I am feeling a bit pedantic today (peckish too), so I do have to whinge on a bit about how I’m pretty sure Tentaculus knows hiragana isn’t used in Chinese.

    I know, I know, never let the facts get in the way of a good story.

    But still, feeling pedantic, remember, so let’s just see where this could go. What originally went like this:

    “Really, John!” scoffs Tentaculous disdainfully. “Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t figure out that those figures spell ‘Giant Squid Productions LLC’ in Chinese! You insult my intelligence! And I hope you didn’t think that swapping an octopus for a squid would throw me off your trail! Honestly!”

    could instead go something like:

    “Really, John!” scoffs Tentaculous disdainfully. “Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t figure out that those characters spell ‘Giant Octopus Productions LLC’ in Japanese! What the hell are you trying to get at here? You insult my intelligence! I’m well aware Masako isn’t around to keep you from embarassing yourself. Tell me something I don’t know. Honestly!”

    but probably not.

  26. I thought guys with cribs were supposed to wear oversized athletic jerseys and baseball caps cocked sideways.

    It gives me hope. Perhaps I have a crib and don’t even know it.

  27. blank, I wish I’d remembered to include Masako in some capacity, and your revision does that nicely. I also admit, too, that Kana are indeed quite readily discerned from Kanji, and I was expecting that one of the regulars here would probably call me out on the somewhat flimsy literary contrivance I needed for everything else to fall into place. But I’m glad to know there was enough remaining in the story for you and others to enjoy just the same. It certainly was fun to write. And I don’t want to forget to give credit to Morutsu-san for preparing such wonderfully fertile soil in which I could cultivate these off-shoot stories.

    Now as for your peckishness — might I interest you in this family-size container of Marmite?

Comments are closed.