Wired is technology's hip face, an aggressive apologist for the new Information capitalism that speaks to the world in the postmodern executive's favored tones of chaotic cool and pseudo-revolution. Wired 's expeditious rise was the payoff of perfect product positioning by its founders and their flawless implementation of an age-old publishing plan. Wired works, on the most basic level, by tweaking its readers' anxieties, constantly reminding them that they are hopelessly behind the times on the latest developments in technology and underground hacker culture. Ordering is as easy as reading, since Wired is courteous enough to include phone number and e-mail address alongside every product they showcase. But car manufacturers and distilleries are small potatoes in the Wired revenue stream.
Game manufacturers are where it's at, appearing on the cover more than any other single group.
The culmination of civilization, according to Wired , is the video game, and to play is the ultimate expression of one's self in the Information society. The favor is generally returned by manufacturers who take out multiple full page ads over the next few months as they set about hawking their product. Magazines that cover particular industries are always tempted to let down the wall between advertisers and editorial, since the subjects of their articles are also the buyers of their ad pages. Most publications work hard to at least maintain appearances of objectivity, but with the chaotically joyous blurring of boundaries accomplished by the Information Revolution, such rules are no longer as binding, a fact which Wired , naturally, has been among the first to exploit. The magazine seems to aim, quite simply, to facilitate the moving of product by the technology industry.