Dan Lyons sounds jealous:
There is surprisingly little to be learned about Sir Jonathan Ive in this 17,000-word piece in The New Yorker, except this: The fucker gets driven to work in a Bentley Mulsanne, “a car for a head of state,” as Ian Parker puts it.
That one detail says it all. If you want to know who wields the real power at Apple, look no further. The Mulsanne starting price is a tick over $300,000, and can go higher (like if you get the special Grey Poupon refrigerator, I guess)…
Jonathan Ive is probably the best-known industrial designer anywhere, and determines the direction of both the hardware and software of one of the world’s biggest companies. A $300,000 car isn’t really that big of a deal in that context, is it?
…but the price is not the point.
Oh? Enlighten me, Lyons.
The point is the chauffeur. His name is Jean.
This is crazy even by Dan Lyons’ extremely high standards.
Ive, possibly the most influential person at Apple including Tim Cook, has a chauffeur. His name is the French equivalent of John. This is outrageous to Dan Lyons.
And then this article gets really weird:
There’s no word in the article about whether Ive makes Jean wear a uniform, and if so, whether Ive designed the uniform himself, and if so, if he selected his driver by making a few dozen candidates line up and pose to see which one would look best in the uniform that Ive designed, and/or which ones would agree to have plastic surgery to make themselves look just so in that uniform and hat.
Every time you think Dan can’t get any more abstruse or bizarre, he proves you wrong. He is truly a gift that keeps on giving, except it’s like receiving a flaming bag of dog shit on your doorstep that increases in size with each delivery.
Jon Ive is off the fucking rails…
Yes, Jonathan Ive is the one off the fucking rails. Not you, Dan. Jony. Got it.
…and the only person who could rein him in is no longer among the living.
Steve Jobs owned a fucking plane, which almost certainly had a pilot, who might have had a French name. Bring on the proportional outrage.
This article is so fantastically terrible that the link goes instead to a video of a dog riding a bicycle. If you’d like to read Lyons’ particular brand of bizarre, feel free to Google any of the quotes in this post. You have better things to do, though.