And no more Apple at MW after this year.

holycowMG-o

There is no emoticon for what I'm feeling right now.

So sad. I can't imagine a year without MW.

AAPL = $65 by year end.

I'm guessing since Apple gets enough attention any time they want with web events they are giving up on old low-tech ways to get their message out. I agree with that part, but man did I have a blast waiting in line for the keynote. A LOT of people are going to miss that.

I'm sure this has to do with Steve trying to get the spotlight off of him and showing people Apple isn't going to disappear if/when he does. Although you can bet a metric crap ton of "Jobs teh dying" stories are about to hit the fan.

[censored] has already hit the fan. "SJ's is dying" is in full swing with the analysts. Stock price is down in after hours trading.

I'm sorry I never had the chance to attend a keynote. My first MW was spent setting up the MacCentral Mosaic booth. The second year I was broke and couldn't afford the ticket. I'd hoped to get out to SF someday. Oh well...

Agreed.
Apple will continue to hold special events for new products on their own timetable.
Hopefully this will end the"Announcing new product that won't ship for three months" syndrome.
AAPL will take a hit, but it will work out for the best.
It had to happen sooner or later.

I agree it does make sense but it's sad nonetheless.

I have fond memories of all the fun we had guessing what great new thing would be unveiled at MW. The speculation was a laugh to read sometimes.

I know.

It was like a second Christmas.
But I do believe all the speculation and rumors are what drives the stock price down.
Analysts and journalists guess what will be introduced, and when it doesn't, the stock tanks.
It's just not right. I think this will help.
(Unfortunately/Fortunately, I don't own any stocks)

I always looked forward to MacWorld. This is sad, especially since it won't be Jobs giving the farewell keynote...

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.