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Makers
by: Cory Doctorow
Description:
Excerpt
PART I
Suzanne Church almost never had to bother with the blue blazer these days. Back at the height of the dot-boom, sheâd put on her business journalist dragâblazer, blue sailcloth shirt, khaki trousers, loafersâjust about every day, putting in her obligatory appearances at splashy press-conferences for high-flying IPOs and mergers. These days, it was mostly work at home or one day a week at the San Jose Mercury Newsâs office, in comfortable light sweaters with loose necks and loose cotton pants that she could wear straight to yoga after shutting her computerâs lid.
Blue blazer today, and she wasnât the only one. There was Reedy from the NYTâs Silicon Valley office, and Tribbey from the WSJ, and that despicable rat-toothed jumped-up gossip columnist from one of the UK tech-rags, and many others besides. Old home week, blue blazers fresh from the dry-cleaning bags that had guarded them since the last time the NASDAQ broke 5,000.
The man of the hour was Landon Kettlewellâthe kind of outlandish prep-school name that always seemed a little made up to herâthe new CEO and front for the majority owners of Kodak/Duracell. The despicable Brit had already started calling them Kodacell. Buying the company was pure Kettlewell: shrewd, weird, and ethical in a twisted way.
âWhy the hell have you done this, Landon?â Kettlewell asked himself into his tie-mic. Ties and suits for the new Kodacell execs in the room, like surfers playing dress-up. âWhy buy two dinosaurs and stick âem together? Will they mate and give birth to a new generation of less-endangered dinosaurs?â
He shook his head and walked to a different part of the stage, thumbing a PowerPoint remote that advanced his slide on the jumbotron to a picture of a couple of unhappy cartoon brontos staring desolately at an empty nest. âProbably not. But there is a good case for what weâve just done, and with your indulgence, Iâm going to lay it out for you now.â
âLetâs hope he sticks to the cartoons,â Rat-Toothed hissed beside her. His breath smelled like heâd been gargling turds. He had a not-so-secret crush on her and liked to demonstrate his alpha-maleness by making half-witticisms into her ear. âTheyâre about his speed.â
She twisted in her seat and pointedly hunched over her computerâs screen, to which sheâd taped a thin sheet of polarized plastic that made it opaque to anyone shoulder-surfing her. Being a halfway attractive woman in Silicon Valley was more of a pain in the ass than sheâd expected, back when sheâd been covering rustbelt shenanigans in Detroit, back when there was an auto industry in Detroit.
The worst part was that the Britâs reportage was just spleen-filled editorializing on the lack of ethics in the valleyâs board-rooms (a favorite subject of hers, which no doubt accounted for his fellow-feeling), and it was also the crux of Kettlewellâs schtick. The spectacle of an exec who talked ethics enraged Rat-Toothed more than the vilest baby-killers. He was the kind of revolutionary who liked his firing squads arranged in a circle....