steve jobs and bill gates
2007-1-11 15:03:51,from:WOW
In real life, Bill Gates screwed Steve Jobs and everyone else in the computer industry.
But in Slash fiction, it's Steve Jobs who gets to screw Bill Gates -- literally.
In six short fictional stories penned by Jezebel Slade, the long and ornery business relationship between Jobs and Gates is contrasted against their secret love affair, which is spelled out in pornographic detail.
Slash is homoerotic fan fiction that is usually written by women, for women. The stories detail erotic encounters between pop culture figures. Usually the works feature lead characters from popular movies or TV series: Spock and Kirk from Star Trek; Luke and Han from Star Wars; Mulder and Krycek from the X-Files; and Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street.
The term "slash" comes from the punctuation mark denoting paired lovers, as in Starsky/Hutch. Slash fiction arose in the '70s among straight female Star Trek fans who wanted to render the gay subtext between Kirk and Spock explicit through their own writings. Since then, it has flourished into a lively literary subgenre on the Net. There are dozens of sites, archiving thousands of stories.
According to her website, Slade's stories were inspired by the 1999 TNT movie, Pirates of Silicon Valley, which chronicled the early history of Apple and Microsoft, personified by Jobs and Gates. Slade is at pains to point out that her fiction plays off the characters in the movie, not the real Gates and Jobs.
Slade's first story in the series, I Have What You Need, details a "missing scene" from the movie. Although it's not entirely clear from the text, the story appears to take place after Jobs shows Gates the Macintosh for the first time. Written in first-person narrative from Gates' point-of-view, Gates tells Jobs he "has what he needs." Jobs thinks it's software for the Mac, but quickly finds out Gates is referring to something else entirely.
"(Jobs) nuzzles my neck, bites my earlobe," Slade writes. "I watch him go to his desk and rummage in one of the top drawers. When he comes back, he's holding a bottle of hand lotion.... He hooks his hand on the waistband of my chinos and briefs, sliding them both down at once.... He runs his hand up my back and leans down to whisper, 'Bill, are you a virgin?'"
"Yes." Sort of.
"I'll be gentle."
The sex cements the relationship between Gates and Jobs, Apple and Microsoft. "We're compatible," the fictional Gates tells the fictional Jobs. But the sex simply lures Jobs into a false sense of security, which, of course, is exploited by Gates.
The remaining stories focus on the deteriorating business relationship between the two (Jobs accuses Gates of ripping off the Macintosh graphical operating system for Windows), and the enduring affair. Slade depicts business rows punctuated by bouts of hot, gay sex. And while Gates dominates the professional relationship, Jobs is the "top" in the bedroom.
Compared to most of the dull material published about Jobs and Gates, these stories are a rip-roaring read. But while the stories are clearly parody, Slade's choice of using real people is controversial. Slash purists insist only fictional characters should populate the canon.
Until recently, Bill Gates has been viewed as the villain of the tech world, while his archrival, Steve Jobs, enjoys an almost saintly reputation.
Gates is the cutthroat capitalist. A genius maybe, but one more interested in maximizing profits than perfecting technology. He's the ultimate vengeful nerd. Ostracized at school, he gets the last laugh by bleeding us all dry.
Cult of Mac
But these perceptions are wrong. In fact, the reality is reversed. It's Gates who's making a dent in the universe, and Jobs who's taking on the role of single-minded capitalist, seemingly oblivious to the broader needs of society.
Gates is giving away his fortune with the same gusto he spent acquiring it, throwing billions of dollars at solving global health problems. He has also spoken out on major policy issues, for example, by opposing proposals to cut back the inheritance tax.
In contrast, Jobs does not appear on any charitable contribution lists of note. And Jobs has said nary a word on behalf of important social issues, reserving his talents of persuasion for selling Apple products.
According to Forbes, Jobs was recently worth $3.3 billion which puts him among the 194th richest in the world, and makes him the 67th richest American. But the standings were shuffled on Tuesday with Disney's $7.4 billion acquisition of Pixar Animation -- a deal that makes Jobs' Pixar holdings alone worth some $3.7 billion.
But great wealth does not make a great man.
Giving USA Foundation, a philanthropy research group which publishes an annual charity survey, said Jobs does not appear on lists of gifts of $5 million or more over the last four years. Nor is his name on a list of gifts of $1 million or more compiled by Indiana University's Center on Philanthropy.
Jobs' wife is also absent from these philanthropic lists, although she has made dozens of political donations totaling tens of thousands of dollars to the Democrats, according to the Open Secrets database.
Of course, Jobs and his wife may be giving enormous sums of money to charity anonymously. If they are funneling cash to various causes in private, their names wouldn't show up on any lists, regardless of the size of their gifts.
For a person as private as Jobs, who shuns any publicity about his family life, this seems credible. If so, however, this would make Jobs virtually unique among moguls. Richard Jolly, chairman of Giving USA Foundation, said not all billionaires give their money away, but a lot do, and most do not do it quietly.
"We see it over and over again," he said. "Very wealthy individuals do support the organizations and institutions they believe in."
That's certainly true of Gates, who not only gives vast sums away, but also speaks up in support of the organizations and institutions he believes in.
This is not the case for Jobs. To the best of my knowledge, in the last decade or more, Jobs has not spoken up on any social or political issue he believes in -- with the exception of admitting he's a big Bob Dylan fan.
Rather, he uses social issues to support his own selfish business goals. In the Think Different campaign, Jobs used cultural figures he admired to sell computers -- figures who stuck their necks out to fight racism, poverty, inequality or war.
Jobs once offered to be an advisor to Sen. John Kerry during the 2004 presidential election, and he invited President Clinton over for dinner when Bubba visited Silicon Valley in 1996 -- hardly evidence of deep political convictions.
Jobs can't even get behind causes that would seem to carry deep personal meaning, let alone lasting social importance. Like Lance Armstrong, he is a cancer survivor. But unlike Armstrong, Jobs has so far done little publicly to raise money or awareness for the disease.
Given Jobs' social detachment, I'm confused by the adulation he enjoys. Yes, he has great charisma and his presentations are good theater. But his absence from public discourse makes him a cipher. People project their values onto him, and he skates away from the responsibilities that come with great wealth and power.
On the evidence, he's nothing more than a greedy capitalist who's amassed an obscene fortune. It's shameful. In almost every way, Gates is much more deserving of Jobs' rock star exaltation.
In the same way, I admire Bono over Mick Jagger, and John Lennon over Elvis, because they spoke up about things bigger than their own celebrity.
It's time for Jobs to do the same.