By my count, since 2001 there have been no less than 30 various movies, books, and TV seasons of (very popular) vampire-themed stories, to say nothing of the hordes of lesser books and direct-to-DVD movies.

• Southern Vampire Mysteries (2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009)
• Blades 2 & 3 (2002, 2004)
• Underworld series, movies (2003, 2006, 2009)
• Van Helsing (2004)
• Night Watch series (2004, 2006, 2009)
• Twilight series, books (2005, 2006, 2007, 2008)
• Ultraviolet (2006)
• 30 Days of Night (2007)
• I Am Legend (2007)
• Let The Right One In (2008)
• Twilight series, movies (2008, 2009+)
• True Blood (2008, 2009+)

A dozen different plot lines, all with the same boring bloodline.  And on their heels, a new TV show (The Vampire Diaries - also based on a book series), book (The Strain - yet another trilogy), and movie (Daybreakers - with trilogy potential / likeliness, and bonus oil metaphor!).  All within a year, all their own separate new universes.  Great for the fang-bangers, but wasted space for those of us bored out of our skulls.

Between the endless faux-goths and massive preteen mobs, I can understand the demand for the genre, but I didn't realize how big a business vampirism entertainment really was.  From the list above, the movies alone grossed over $600,000,000 - so why not suck the bones dry, right?  I mean, Let The Right One In was really good, but it was in fucking Swedish.  Remake it in English now.  As much as the missus and I enjoy True Blood, it's opened her eyes to the fact that her previously beloved Twilight series is nothing more than a plot-by-plot rip-off of Harris' source material.

The frustrating part about this plague is how much creativity is being wasted on such tired material.  I'm not the biggest fan of horror, but I love science fiction and, to an extent, fantasy.  The vampire thing has the ability to straddle all three really well (I think that's why I find True Blood so entertaining).  Unfortunately, most vampire vehicles are too-simply driven either by a human killing vampires (mild successes), a vampire killing vampires (moderate successes), or a human-vampire love story (jackpot! see you at Hot Topic).

Strip out most of the fantasy elements and practically all of the sci-fi and you've essentially got zombies, which are apparently the new vampires.  Which makes sense, since I'm groaning like one right now.

Second verse, same as the first:

Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead, and Shawn of the Dead. ...and then Dawn of the Dead again.  28 Days Later, 28 Weeks Later, 28 Months Later.  Dead Rising, Dead Rising 2, The Dead Are Still Rising, Hey Look More Dead Rising Again!, Are The Dead Still Rising?, The Rise & Fall Of The Dead, Dead Falling, and Dead Rising: Resurrection.  World War Z the book was turned like Blade, and now it's a movie.  Left 4 Dead 1, Left 4 Dead 2, and presumably Left 4 Dead 3 - but not Left 4 Dead 4 BECAUSE THAT'S TOO MANY FUCKING 4'S!!!  Resident Evils 1-18, and oh no 2009 isn't yet super-super-saturated, so why not Dead Snow, Zombieland, and Breathers.

It's a Sixth Sense situation: the poor genres don't know they're dead.  Can you imagine if someone like George Lucas did this to his fabled stories, constantly retreading the same ground, squeezing every last drop out of his creative?  Why you'd throw away your Yoda backpack and Indiana Jones whip, and start wearing all black, make-up, mumble melodrama like "life is pain", and form fake blood pacts in your parents' basement.

And then pre-purchase a dozen New Moon tickets four months in advance.

Update: I missed one.  Apparently CBS tried out a series last year called Moonlight, involving vampire detectives.  It failed, but they're discussing a movie anyway.  As much as I'd like to chalk this up as an indicator of the genres downward trend, it was probably just another standard CBS casualty: ignoring their viewer bases of octogenarians and "people who like to laugh".

At the risk of stating the obvious: print media is dead, and broadcast journalism may have suffered a deathblow.

It's been a rough two weeks for MSM.  Iran is revolting its stolen election and defying its dictator for the first time in 30 years.  I know this because I use the internet, and not because I read the newspaper (sadly, I don't anymore) or because I watch broadcast news (gag me).  Throughout the past week, while traversing through rumors, journalism, heresy, and first-person accounts, I kept an eye on the internet's own revolt (further) against traditional media.

While internet communities - which include Iranians - were sharing information in real-time, some broadcast media essentially went dark on the protests for days.  As much as of a love-hate relationship I've got going with Twitter right now, I can at least say honestly that it brought me real news faster than the boob tube.  The whole thing is laughable, but also pretty sad.

It's true that social networking services like Twitter have no verification.  You have to take every individual #iran tweet with a grain of salt.  But because Iran has the kind of government it does, there would obviously be no foreign journalists with a camera anywhere within its borders this week.  In 2003, Salam Pax blogged from Baghdad while the bombs fell.  The difference then being there were also correspondents on the ground, reporting live for broadcast.  Six years (and two presidential elections) later, it appears the scales have tipped well in the internet's favor.

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Over the weekend, the lady and I were out of town for a wedding.  When we checked into the hotel, the TV in the lobby had on cable news, which was covering the Iranian protests.  As soon as we settled in our room, I put on the same.

At the same time, I turned on my iPhone and loaded my Twitter application.  The cable news station had cameras shooting computer monitors (at bad angles) displaying Twitter.  On my phone, I was in Twitter - which is to say, I was reading it firsthand, as well as participating in the conversation.

On TV, I saw melodramatic journalist-personalities ("journalisties"?) embellish unnewsworthy tweets, such as "If an innocent girl gets shot halfway across the world, does she make a sound? Yes, the whole world hears her."  While in Twitter itself, I skimmed past the same updates and read dozens of other more meaningful notes.

On TV, I saw commercial breaks.  In Twitter, the news never stopped (surprisingly great uptime this weekend).

On TV, I heard anchors repeat themselves every few minutes.  In Twitter, I saw heavy retweeting - fast-growing groups of different people rallying around information together, not a one-way, aimless talking head.

When cable news finally decided to take a full break and let the news catch up to them, they spent 30 minutes recapping a news topic Americans hold dear: international soccer.  This news organization was very obviously - and, to their credit, transparently - trying to play catch-up with the internet.  But they've all swung the pendulum so far in the other direction, they're now also trying to play make-up.

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I don't usually advocate token charity gestures online, but if you're on Twitter, there are two very easy things you can do to really support protesting Iranians.

First, change your Twitter account settings to Tehran time.  If true, the rumors of Iranian Twitter crackdown means the more people posing as Iranians in Twitter, the harder it will be for them to silence real tweetin' Iranians.  It might all be bunk, but it doesn't hurt and it takes about 7 seconds.

Secondly, change your Twitter profile picture to a shade of green.  I used Photoshop, but you can use this nifty site to do it all online, or just pick a new one from this collection.  It's the color of the opposing party, and it shows any Iranian on Twitter that you're listening and they have your support, wherever and whoever you are.  If Alyssa Milano can do it, you can too.

Get it while it lasts (before midnight June 14th) for $0.99.  Even if you haven't played it before, just trust me and grab it - it's silly, addictive, and very fun.

In what should be the first of many health-related posts, here's is my first official Nike+ run results from last night: a 30-minute evening run through photogenic Brooklyn Heights / DUMBO area.

Two disclosures: I prepared, this wasn't a cold run (a few runs with my fiance the week prior), and I'm not actually running the whole distance; I'd say about half of the overall distance or time (I don't know which) was spent walking.  But, hey, that's okay!  You can't expect 240 lumbering pounds of meat to be the next Flash at the drop of a hat.  And my acceptance of the worlds loose definition of "running" has made the endeavor infinitely more accessible and enjoyable.

Tomorrow is the keynote to Apple's WWDC 2009, and like every year prior, it's the most anticipated evah.  Gizmodo's last minute rumor round-up includes a new iPhone with colors, better hardware, upgraded cameras with video capabilities, new laptops, a new OS X, cold fusion, time travel, a uranium-fueled bionic Steve Jobs exoskeleton, and (just maybe) orange drink for the media.  If you've been following the mongering over the last month or so, the critical piece is clearly Jobs' presence, post-illness.  Because a cult can't survive without its leader.

I've had an iPhone for over a year now (the 3G for about a month) and I thought I'd take a minute to reflect on what this little gizmo has been capable of in that time, before we're all swept up in today's "new and improved!", losing sight of what already is:

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Buy it, sign up with AT&T, and you've got yourself a basic working cellphone with calling and texting.  Except this one has a radical (and I don't use that word lightly) touch-screen, which makes using the other basic features - calculator, alarm clocks, stock checking, and music and video playback - less basic.

It's got a camera too, so you can take pictures.  But you can also instantly upload them to your Flickr account on the web.

It's a "smartphone", so it's got internet connectivity with standard emailing and web surfing. And it's also got a basic built-in weather forecasting app, but you can leverage the fast 3G wifi connectivity to get other weather apps with more in-depth features, like real-time radar.

The phone seamlessly integrates Google Maps - now with guided GPS capabilities - so you can see traffic directions, your own travel directions, and, for many locations, mass transit stops.  A complimentary MTA app details mass transit advisories in real-time, so you not only don't get lost, you also don't get stuck.  In the off-chance you do get stranded somewhere, there's an app that geo-locates nearby cab companies and with 2 touches, I'm extracted like a US Marine.

You can check not only the Yankees score in real-time, but you can track the game pitch by pitch faster than many websites.  Once the game has officially ended, within minutes you can watch high-resolution video with the MLB app.

You can connect with both your digital friends and my IRL friends, on Facebook and Twitter.  You can play social connectivity games, checking in at locations, meeting up with people and meeting new people.

As though it were the 2050 we thought up back in 1950, control my stereo system from the couch with the phone.

Like a middle-aged Boomer, you can check individual housing details on the fly as you cruise for-sale realty.  Like a senile octogenarian, you store several scannable shopper value cards, all in one app.

For my work, I can track my time and create action steps from inside a subway tunnel, and sync up online when I get street-side.  When I get to the office, if it's too busy for my tastes, I flip on a white noise app with endless soothing rhythms.

I can play over a decade of New York Times crossword puzzles, and dozens from other sources.  I can play poker or Scrabble alone or with my fiance with her iPod over WiFi.  Play pitch-perfect ports of SimCity 2 and Myst.  And when I've finished them all, I can open the Fandango app and buy movie tickets for a show in under 30 seconds.

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Between the very fast 3G wifi and the year-old app store, there is a myriad of possibilities.  In my mind, there are really only two major limitations.  The first is your wallet, between the phone, the contract, and the micropayments for apps.  And the second is AT&T as its lone service provider.  Because when some cell tower went down this weekend and I had zero phone service in my home, my iPhone quickly became a very entertaining iPod touch.

In the coming weeks, I'm going to be shutting down my personal blog (not erictabone.com) and merging its contents with this one.  If all goes according to plan, all of its old posts will be here, text only, including a bunch of broken links to images (I just don't have the time or patience for a 100% migration).

The merge will usher in the era of "erictabone.com v2.0".  Design and layout will (mostly) stay as is; in this case, versioning is more representative of the soul of the blog.  In merging my personal blog with what were mostly industry-focused posts, this space will broaden coverage to everything that is, IRL, Eric Tabone.

Philosophically, the move makes sense; the graying of lines between work & play / personal & professional started a long time ago.  But practically speaking, managing two blogs at the same time is simply too much to bear (to speak nothing of the third redheaded stepchild I'm neglecting).

So if you're still reading this after months of silence, thank you, and expect a new array of ranting and complaining, from digital, media, gaming, and roffles, to wedding planning, tech-driven weight loss, endless kitteh photos, whiskey aftermaths, and more, crappier roffles.

In a walk to grab coffee with Mike, I starting thinking about how much I was looking forward to tonight's new episode of 30 Rock.  It hadn't occurred to me that it might actually be a repeat; I just got it in my head that Thursday = 30 Rock = likely a new episode.

My brain-wires had apparently shorted and took itself back to 10 years ago, when we used to rush home on specific days at specific times so we didn't miss TV.  (This fuse was particularly suitable to the mid-90's stranglehold NBC had had on Thursday nights.)  Today with our DVR's, who rushes home for broadcasts?  Let the show wait for us, we say!

And yet there are still shows that resonate so deeply that you can't help but need the most immediate consumption possible.  I actually could wait a night for new 30 Rock's.  But in this recent last season of Battlestar Galactica?  Not a chance.  My fiance & Gossip Girl: night of; it's practically a law.  My mom recently got a DVR and records about 98% of all television, and yet new Grey's Anatomy is a reason to leave Thursday nights commitment-less.

In a period of time-less television (as in scheduling, certainly not in terms of quality), we still find ourselves the occasional slave to programming.  Even online versions of broadcast shows has us calculating viewings on the fly.  And in this period, the networks cry foul: if viewers timeshift, ad revenue plummets.

Woe is the channel with slightly less money.

But if networks had such compelling content that viewers couldn't help but have to be a part of the most exclusive event possible - watching it live - then when the first ad block hits, there's no future for the DVR button to fast forward to: viewers are forced to watch.  (Or at least chat about the first segment. Or flip to another channel.  Or get up to pee.)  The music industry is finally adapting to this new digital model: abandon all hope of sales profits, and focus capitalization on singular, non-repeatable experiences.

I remember Battlestar Galacticas last seasons' episodes far more than the earlier ones because they were the most compelling.  To the point where I can even recall the ad campaigns run during that time.  (Nerd alert, in 3... 2... 1...) On a Friday night, I wanted nothing more than to get home, open a beer, hit the couch, and utterly consume the final episodes.  In a way, today, I can say, "I was there".

In this era of timeshifting, on-demand, and endless content, you better give us something truly compelling - addictive even - if you expect us to stop blogging, creating videos, or rocking the plastic guitar.

In the last year, a handful of MSM articles about and interviews with moot, the founder of 4chan, have cropped up.  Time's was pretty weak; WSJ's is a decent overview.

Fimoculous just posted a great direct and intimate interview with moot.  And the Washington Post has a looooooong (not really) and very comprehensive article about the crazy things known as 4chan and moot's life.

Read them all over at your next PBJ desk lunch.  Report back in the comments on what you learned about a) what "tits or gtfo" means, b) how many kittehs moot has, and c) how you can love again.

Fan, co-worker, and all-around smart fella Bud Caddell just wrapped up his presentation, The Fan Economy: Becoming Fan Focused
Check it out, pass it along, and remix it the hell up.

As a follow-up to my previous post about ROFLthing NYC, memes, and doin' it for the lulz, check out KnowYourMeme.com.  It's the most n00b ("newbie")-friendly presentation of internet memes on the interweb-holes.

KnowYourMeme.com is relatively shallow in terms of it's depth of informing, but does a great job of capturing enough examples of each meme to really exemplify what the memes mean.  It's also been keeping up with the internet well in the last week (faster than most sites, anyway).  It's already got the Christian Bale freak-out meme and the David After Dentist meme covered.

Check out the Milhouse meme to get a good meta understanding of this:

When you've delved into the site and it's memes and have a "want to learn more?" moment, jump over to the infamously famous Encyclopedia Dramatica to really sink your teeth into the chaos.

My favorite meme from the site - using one of the tamer examples to showcase it - is the Xibit meme:

Spend some time in the KYM memeverse to edumacate your brainholes.  But be warned: the idea that something inhernetly underground, pervasive, and anarchistic are appearing organized in "public" means the site won't last either due to angry 1337 haxxors, or - and I think this is most likely - erosion of accuracy.  Case in point: simple remixes like Christian Bale and David After Dentist aren't really memes.

So get your lulz while the gettin's good.