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OK, let’s regroup. We’re a month into the year, and some of my calculations might have been off, but I’m still saying we’ll make to Jan. 1, 2013, the Mayan death calendar notwithstanding.
First was the Russian satellite splashing into the Pacific rather than Peoria, which would have been messy. I figured that was January’s hurdle. But I didn’t foresee the solar flares, which also failed to kill us, or the fact that winter didn’t show up, which many welcome but, face it, does seem a little ominous.
Still, these unexpected developments merely mean a recalibration of the great cosmic gears a manageable amount. No, I figured we were still grinding steadily through this messy leap year of elections and Olympics and predictions of The End, thanks to overmisinterpretation of the Mayans, who are dead and therefore not here to explain their math.
Then Facebook happened.
The social media company finally, finally threw itself upon the markets, with an initial public offering that suggests the company’s overall value might be as high as $100 billion.
A little perspective. We live in an age of barking over gas at $3.79 but eyes glazing over at what a federal deficit of several trillion dollars really means. It is, as scientists remind us, all relative. A hundred billion miles isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, though it does nicely get you well past this solar system. A hundred billion bucks, on the other hand, is a lot.
If your company were worth $100 billion, it would be worth more than Ford. Or GM. Maybe both, depending on how the wind is blowing that day and whose stock is up or down. Let’s put it this way: $100 billion is roughly half the size of Wal-Mart, and I don’t think anyone is ready for a universe in which Wal-Mart can be challenged on those terms.
The telling piece is that Ford and GM make things, relics of their long-lost age of dominance. Wal-Mart represents the next age, selling things, something we briefly feared was the only thing we were still good at.
It turns out that what we really do well is talk. That is the genius of Facebook, getting customers to do the work of organizing our class reunions and posting pictures we might later regret. And it’s as close to a product-free corporate behemoth as capitalism has spawned yet.
OK, let’s regroup. We’re a month into the year, and some of my calculations might have been off, but I’m still saying we’ll make to Jan. 1, 2013, the Mayan death calendar notwithstanding.
First was the Russian satellite splashing into the Pacific rather than Peoria, which would have been messy. I figured that was January’s hurdle. But I didn’t foresee the solar flares, which also failed to kill us, or the fact that winter didn’t show up, which many welcome but, face it, does seem a little ominous.
Still, these unexpected developments merely mean a recalibration of the great cosmic gears a manageable amount. No, I figured we were still grinding steadily through this messy leap year of elections and Olympics and predictions of The End, thanks to overmisinterpretation of the Mayans, who are dead and therefore not here to explain their math.
Then Facebook happened.
The social media company finally, finally threw itself upon the markets, with an initial public offering that suggests the company’s overall value might be as high as $100 billion.
A little perspective. We live in an age of barking over gas at $3.79 but eyes glazing over at what a federal deficit of several trillion dollars really means. It is, as scientists remind us, all relative. A hundred billion miles isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, though it does nicely get you well past this solar system. A hundred billion bucks, on the other hand, is a lot.
If your company were worth $100 billion, it would be worth more than Ford. Or GM. Maybe both, depending on how the wind is blowing that day and whose stock is up or down. Let’s put it this way: $100 billion is roughly half the size of Wal-Mart, and I don’t think anyone is ready for a universe in which Wal-Mart can be challenged on those terms.
The telling piece is that Ford and GM make things, relics of their long-lost age of dominance. Wal-Mart represents the next age, selling things, something we briefly feared was the only thing we were still good at.
It turns out that what we really do well is talk. That is the genius of Facebook, getting customers to do the work of organizing our class reunions and posting pictures we might later regret. And it’s as close to a product-free corporate behemoth as capitalism has spawned yet.
Word to the wise: If you’re sitting there saying, “Facebook. I just don’t get it, I don’t need it, and I’ll never use it,” just hold that thought to yourself. You might as well wave a sign that says “Last pterodactyl here – frightened and confused.” Then when the next Russian satellite falls your way, everyone will say, hey, he was asking for it. No, friends, the social media crowd has won the day, and all that’s left is to cash in on it.
I think we all knew we were living in the new age of Facebook, but reality doesn’t get through to a lot of us until you break it down in cold, hard cash. So this might cause another realignment of the cosmic gears. I still think we’re good for 2012 and beyond, but I’ll have to recalculate and get back to you.
The deal with the Mayan death calendar – 325 days and counting until the winter solstice, by the way – is the birth of a new age. Old things pass away. The new thrusts itself onto the stage. It’s a great cleansing. And we talk about it on Facebook.
