This evening, we drove South on 101 from Palo Alto to Shoreline in Mountain View to catch "Bourne Ultimatum". Mountain View, home of Google, and headquarters for much of the Web 1.0 boom as well (see: Netscape), often provides a great place to mix and mingle with some of the Silicon Valley's best and brightest, even in a very casual setting. As a result, it was no surprise that when we entered the theater early, before previews had begun, we were surrounded by geeks playing with their cell phones to pass the time. In fact, to our right, an entire row of young men were fiddling with their iPhones, unmistakably tapping on the screens with their index fingers, or rotating the views to landscape, only to be followed by more soundless tapping, as they presumably surfed the Web or scrolled through e-mail.

What just a month or so ago would be worth posting to Flickr or Digg to announce an iPhone sighting in public is growing increasingly commonplace - though the appearance of four geeks (maybe all Google employees?) using theirs side by side was certainly less ordinary.

Just last Saturday, while some of us stumbled around with our digital cameras to capture Billy Beane and Ken Korach at AN Day 4, or others held up rudimentary cell phones, I spotted a few with their iPhones, taking in the action. The week before, one of my friends seeing The Simpsons Movie had also brought along his iPhone, passing it to me just so I could once again prove my fingers are too fat for the built-in keyboard. And often, while at lunch during the work week in tech geek rich Milpitas or San Jose, I can see iPhones placed on the table, or on the hip - often next to the Blackberry.

It looks like early fears over the iPhone lacking features, needing bug fixes after version 1.0, or even more directly, that fast adopters wouldn't want to be saddled to AT&T, are somewhat overblown. While I'm still holding out, waiting for version 2 or 3, I'm glad to start seeing the iPhone become as iconic as the iPod's white earbuds once were before everyone on the planet had them. That I get to enjoy the sheer geekery of the Valley at the same time is a major plus as well.

The problem with putting the words "End", "Apocalypse", "Final", "Last" and "Ultimatum" in titles is that the audience assumes all the loose ends in a story will be wrapped up nicely, that all questions will be answered, and hopefully, the hero will win, the villains will fall, and all will go on happily ever after. Yet, sometimes, like in the case with the Matt Damon-led Jason Bourne movies, we simply enjoy the experience, and are willing to forego believability, if only to extend the franchise in hopes of future entertainment.

Tonight, Kristine and I saw "The Bourne Ultimatum", the third in the Bourne series, centering around Bourne's continued efforts to peel back the mysteries in his past, and wreak vengeance on those who have wronged him. Intertwined between car chases, foot chases, motorcycle chases, fisticuffs and shooting, we also see political infighting and coverups at the CIA, foes turn to friends, and somehow end up cheering on a man who could easily be seen as a cold-hearted mercenary.

While there's always a danger than an actor will become cast in a mold if they repeatedly play a single character for too long and become identified with that role, I've always been impressed with the way Damon handled the role of Bourne - without a hint of humor, but instead, pure seriousness, craftiness and intellect to outwit those seeking to hunt him down. If I were to learn that in some odd twist, that the Bourne trilogy were to be extended to say, five, or seven, films, I'd welcome it. Bourne has the potential to be a franchise, but, having just left the theater, it's clear they want to put the sure money maker to bed.

Bourne Ultimatum starts off in action and does not relent throughout. Not pausing much for character development, the film starts where the second installment left off, assumes the viewer is familiar with the back story, and charges forward, as we follow Bourne's search for answers, and the world's search for Bourne. For summer enjoyment, it was a good film, with enough noise and action to be worth seeing in a theater, rather than waiting for the DVD or finagling from BitTorrent. I only wish they had left the door open a bit more.

Following Apple's media frenzy around the iPhone, and the company's continued market successes, the bloggers swarmed onto Cupertino with unprecedented vigor today, as Steve Jobs offered up a bevy of new product introductions, including a new line of iMacs and revamped iLife and iWork suites. And while on the Steve Jobs meter, the announcements were fairly ho-hum, the blogosphere was set ablaze with dozens of sites, ranging from Engadget to MacRumors to Robert Scoble and Om Malik, trying to liveblog the proceedings.

The event presented a unique intersection of an incredibly successful, yet secretive, enigma of a company more broadly opening its doors to A-list bloggers than ever before. While just a few years ago, those of us in the Mac community remember much complaining around some sites being tagged as "rumor" sites or denied press credentials, today's event had bloggers like Scoble sitting in the first few rows, capturing Jobs' every word. And there's no question that sites like Engadget and others who were there would be all too happy to pass along rumors they found reputable.

With such significant focus and the highest level of transparency, you'd think the grounds were prepped for Jobs to surprise us all with something radically unexpected, like a second generation iPhone, the release of Mac OS X 10.5 Leopard, or Mac OS X for generic Windows boxes. Instead, what we got was 30 minutes of demoing iPhoto, tweaks to GarageBand, iWeb and iMovie, and a long-overdue capacity increase for the company's .Mac Web offerings. Enough "special events" like that, and the bloggers will just phone in their story.

Don't get me wrong. When I got home, I watched Jobs' presentation in full, and was impressed with some of the software demos. But this wasn't even a B on the high-rated Jobsian curve. Those of us who have followed every presentation by Jobs at all the MacWorlds and all the WWDC's and all the special events past know that on some occasions, the rumors will far outstrip the news, and Jobs' "one more thing" won't rock the world. So... we got a flat keyboard. So what?

For those bloggers who got all ecstatic because they were finally let in behind the velvet rope to see a Stevenote, I expect their feeling of novelty could turn to one of entitlement, and once they've gained a good level of cynicism, they won't be doting over "Skimming" in iPhoto or the fact the new iMacs look like the iPhone. Instead, they'll realize even Jobs can't hit a home run every time at bat.

In 2001, when Barry Bonds broke Mark McGwire's single season home run record, I was glued to the TV set, and likely cheered as he crushed a ball into the seats for #71. Just three years prior, I had even cut class to see Mark McGwire break the much longer lasting record held by Roger Maris, and saw him trot around the bases with a grin on his face, as he became the first major leaguer to reach the rare air of #62.

But tonight, when Barry Bonds reached #756, I wasn't watching. I won't be able to tell future generations that I saw it live, and I really don't care. After all we've learned, and all we've seen, what should have been an incredible moment has been dulled into a gnawing disappointment I wish would just go away.

Naively, I'd like to believe sports to be pure. I want to think that those players I devote significant time to, who I cheer from the stands or at home, are on a level playing field. I'd like to think they achieve their levels of success without the aid of artificial enhancements, or that they aren't swayed by outside influence, such as professional gambling. But it's just not true - and likely, it never has been, even though Bonds' alleged steroid use is so blatant and so publicized in this era of the never ending news cycle.

Growing up as an impressionable kid in the late 1980s, my baseball heroes included Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco, who could now be seen as the Madame and Pierre Curie of the steroids circuit - real pioneers who achieved greatness only to wilt away from the powers' eventual radiation. Though I'd like to think McGwire achieved his success without steroids, he has to be held to the same scrutiny as Bonds does, even though McGwire doesn't have an equivalent book like the must-read "Game of Shadows", which so devastatingly chronicles Bonds' flaunting of the rules and his overwhelming boorishness. Now, I simply accept the fact that McGwire cheated. Canseco cheated. Bonds cheated. Many cheated in a never ending spiral of malfeasance, targeted at chasing the almighty dollar and personal ego.

Upon learning that Bonds had taken away Hammerin' Hank Aaron's rightful spot atop the record books tonight, I did the only right thing I could think to do. I turned off coverage of "The Synthetic" and turned on "The Natural", starring Robert Redford, which saw Roy Hobbs rely on physical strength, talent and determination to become a major baseball star, and capture the fan's hearts through on-field heroics. Even when tempted by gamblers and mistresses, he eventually does the right thing, spurning evil and gaining success as a result.

Somehow, despite decades of focused baseball consumption, I had missed seeing The Natural until tonight. I knew the story's basic plotline, which is legend. I knew the main characters. I knew what to expect. But I had never seen it in full until tonight - the most appropriate of nights to remember that even when I find myself questioning the very core of those sports I champion and believe in, that the underlying foundation is true and without error. That it takes Hollywood and a 20+ year old film to bring me back to this stage is sad. It's completely unfortunate that a guy like Barry Bonds, who I want to like and want to root for, who has incredible baseball talent, chose to sweep away his charm and cleanliness for a run at synthetic, tainted history. Robert Redford would have said no to drugs.