This was written by Steve Jobs sister Mona Simpson and given at a ceremony for the late Apple co-founder and all-around genius. I thought it was worth reposting and preserving here for me, and for you.

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I grew up as an only child, with a single mother. Because we were poor and because I knew my father had emigrated from Syria, I imagined he looked like Omar Sharif. I hoped he would be rich and kind and would come into our lives (and our not yet furnished apartment) and help us. Later, after I’d met my father, I tried to believe he’d changed his number and left no forwarding address because he was an idealistic revolutionary, plotting a new world for the Arab people.

Even as a feminist, my whole life I’d been waiting for a man to love, who could love me. For decades, I’d thought that man would be my father. When I was 25, I met that man and he was my brother.

By then, I lived in New York, where I was trying to write my first novel. I had a job at a small magazine in an office the size of a closet, with three other aspiring writers. When one day a lawyer called me — me, the middle-class girl from California who hassled the boss to buy us health insurance — and said his client was rich and famous and was my long-lost brother, the young editors went wild.

This was 1985 and we worked at a cutting-edge literary magazine, but I’d fallen into the plot of a Dickens novel and really, we all loved those best. The lawyer refused to tell me my brother’s name and my colleagues started a betting pool. The leading candidate: John Travolta. I secretly hoped for a literary descendant of Henry James — someone more talented than I, someone brilliant without even trying.

When I met Steve, he was a guy my age in jeans, Arab- or Jewish-looking and handsomer than Omar Sharif.

We took a long walk — something, it happened, that we both liked to do. I don’t remember much of what we said that first day, only that he felt like someone I’d pick to be a friend. He explained that he worked in computers.

I didn’t know much about computers. I still worked on a manual Olivetti typewriter.

I told Steve I’d recently considered my first purchase of a computer: something called the Cromemco.

Steve told me it was a good thing I’d waited. He said he was making something that was going to be insanely beautiful.

I want to tell you a few things I learned from Steve, during three distinct periods, over the 27 years I knew him. They’re not periods of years, but of states of being. His full life. His illness. His dying.

Steve worked at what he loved. He worked really hard. Every day.

That’s incredibly simple, but true.

He was the opposite of absent-minded.

He was never embarrassed about working hard, even if the results were failures. If someone as smart as Steve wasn’t ashamed to admit trying, maybe I didn’t have to be.

When he got kicked out of Apple, things were painful. He told me about a dinner at which 500 Silicon Valley leaders met the then-sitting president. Steve hadn’t been invited.

He was hurt but he still went to work at Next. Every single day.

Novelty was not Steve’s highest value. Beauty was.

For an innovator, Steve was remarkably loyal. If he loved a shirt, he’d order 10 or 100 of them. In the Palo Alto house, there are probably enough black cotton turtlenecks for everyone in this church.

He didn’t favor trends or gimmicks. He liked people his own age.

His philosophy of aesthetics reminds me of a quote that went something like this: “Fashion is what seems beautiful now but looks ugly later; art can be ugly at first but it becomes beautiful later.”

Steve always aspired to make beautiful later.

He was willing to be misunderstood.

Uninvited to the ball, he drove the third or fourth iteration of his same black sports car to Next, where he and his team were quietly inventing the platform on which Tim Berners-Lee would write the program for the World Wide Web.

Steve was like a girl in the amount of time he spent talking about love. Love was his supreme virtue, his god of gods. He tracked and worried about the romantic lives of the people working with him.

Whenever he saw a man he thought a woman might find dashing, he called out, “Hey are you single? Do you wanna come to dinner with my sister?”

I remember when he phoned the day he met Laurene. “There’s this beautiful woman and she’s really smart and she has this dog and I’m going to marry her.”

When Reed was born, he began gushing and never stopped. He was a physical dad, with each of his children. He fretted over Lisa’s boyfriends and Erin’s travel and skirt lengths and Eve’s safety around the horses she adored.

None of us who attended Reed’s graduation party will ever forget the scene of Reed and Steve slow dancing.

His abiding love for Laurene sustained him. He believed that love happened all the time, everywhere. In that most important way, Steve was never ironic, never cynical, never pessimistic. I try to learn from that, still.

Steve had been successful at a young age, and he felt that had isolated him. Most of the choices he made from the time I knew him were designed to dissolve the walls around him. A middle-class boy from Los Altos, he fell in love with a middle-class girl from New Jersey. It was important to both of them to raise Lisa, Reed, Erin and Eve as grounded, normal children. Their house didn’t intimidate with art or polish; in fact, for many of the first years I knew Steve and Lo together, dinner was served on the grass, and sometimes consisted of just one vegetable. Lots of that one vegetable. But one. Broccoli. In season. Simply prepared. With just the right, recently snipped, herb.

Even as a young millionaire, Steve always picked me up at the airport. He’d be standing there in his jeans.

When a family member called him at work, his secretary Linetta answered, “Your dad’s in a meeting. Would you like me to interrupt him?”

When Reed insisted on dressing up as a witch every Halloween, Steve, Laurene, Erin and Eve all went wiccan.

They once embarked on a kitchen remodel; it took years. They cooked on a hotplate in the garage. The Pixar building, under construction during the same period, finished in half the time. And that was it for the Palo Alto house. The bathrooms stayed old. But — and this was a crucial distinction — it had been a great house to start with; Steve saw to that.

This is not to say that he didn’t enjoy his success: he enjoyed his success a lot, just minus a few zeros. He told me how much he loved going to the Palo Alto bike store and gleefully realizing he could afford to buy the best bike there.

And he did.

Steve was humble. Steve liked to keep learning.

Once, he told me if he’d grown up differently, he might have become a mathematician. He spoke reverently about colleges and loved walking around the Stanford campus. In the last year of his life, he studied a book of paintings by Mark Rothko, an artist he hadn’t known about before, thinking of what could inspire people on the walls of a future Apple campus.

Steve cultivated whimsy. What other C.E.O. knows the history of English and Chinese tea roses and has a favorite David Austin rose?

He had surprises tucked in all his pockets. I’ll venture that Laurene will discover treats — songs he loved, a poem he cut out and put in a drawer — even after 20 years of an exceptionally close marriage. I spoke to him every other day or so, but when I opened The New York Times and saw a feature on the company’s patents, I was still surprised and delighted to see a sketch for a perfect staircase.

With his four children, with his wife, with all of us, Steve had a lot of fun.

He treasured happiness.

Then, Steve became ill and we watched his life compress into a smaller circle. Once, he’d loved walking through Paris. He’d discovered a small handmade soba shop in Kyoto. He downhill skied gracefully. He cross-country skied clumsily. No more.

Eventually, even ordinary pleasures, like a good peach, no longer appealed to him.

Yet, what amazed me, and what I learned from his illness, was how much was still left after so much had been taken away.

I remember my brother learning to walk again, with a chair. After his liver transplant, once a day he would get up on legs that seemed too thin to bear him, arms pitched to the chair back. He’d push that chair down the Memphis hospital corridor towards the nursing station and then he’d sit down on the chair, rest, turn around and walk back again. He counted his steps and, each day, pressed a little farther.

Laurene got down on her knees and looked into his eyes.

“You can do this, Steve,” she said. His eyes widened. His lips pressed into each other.

He tried. He always, always tried, and always with love at the core of that effort. He was an intensely emotional man.

I realized during that terrifying time that Steve was not enduring the pain for himself. He set destinations: his son Reed’s graduation from high school, his daughter Erin’s trip to Kyoto, the launching of a boat he was building on which he planned to take his family around the world and where he hoped he and Laurene would someday retire.

Even ill, his taste, his discrimination and his judgment held. He went through 67 nurses before finding kindred spirits and then he completely trusted the three who stayed with him to the end. Tracy. Arturo. Elham.

One time when Steve had contracted a tenacious pneumonia his doctor forbid everything — even ice. We were in a standard I.C.U. unit. Steve, who generally disliked cutting in line or dropping his own name, confessed that this once, he’d like to be treated a little specially.

I told him: Steve, this is special treatment.

He leaned over to me, and said: “I want it to be a little more special.”

Intubated, when he couldn’t talk, he asked for a notepad. He sketched devices to hold an iPad in a hospital bed. He designed new fluid monitors and x-ray equipment. He redrew that not-quite-special-enough hospital unit. And every time his wife walked into the room, I watched his smile remake itself on his face.

For the really big, big things, you have to trust me, he wrote on his sketchpad. He looked up. You have to.

By that, he meant that we should disobey the doctors and give him a piece of ice.

None of us knows for certain how long we’ll be here. On Steve’s better days, even in the last year, he embarked upon projects and elicited promises from his friends at Apple to finish them. Some boat builders in the Netherlands have a gorgeous stainless steel hull ready to be covered with the finishing wood. His three daughters remain unmarried, his two youngest still girls, and he’d wanted to walk them down the aisle as he’d walked me the day of my wedding.

We all — in the end — die in medias res. In the middle of a story. Of many stories.

I suppose it’s not quite accurate to call the death of someone who lived with cancer for years unexpected, but Steve’s death was unexpected for us.

What I learned from my brother’s death was that character is essential: What he was, was how he died.

Tuesday morning, he called me to ask me to hurry up to Palo Alto. His tone was affectionate, dear, loving, but like someone whose luggage was already strapped onto the vehicle, who was already on the beginning of his journey, even as he was sorry, truly deeply sorry, to be leaving us.

He started his farewell and I stopped him. I said, “Wait. I’m coming. I’m in a taxi to the airport. I’ll be there.”

“I’m telling you now because I’m afraid you won’t make it on time, honey.”

When I arrived, he and his Laurene were joking together like partners who’d lived and worked together every day of their lives. He looked into his children’s eyes as if he couldn’t unlock his gaze.

Until about 2 in the afternoon, his wife could rouse him, to talk to his friends from Apple.

Then, after awhile, it was clear that he would no longer wake to us.

His breathing changed. It became severe, deliberate, purposeful. I could feel him counting his steps again, pushing farther than before.

This is what I learned: he was working at this, too. Death didn’t happen to Steve, he achieved it.

He told me, when he was saying goodbye and telling me he was sorry, so sorry we wouldn’t be able to be old together as we’d always planned, that he was going to a better place.

Dr. Fischer gave him a 50/50 chance of making it through the night.

He made it through the night, Laurene next to him on the bed sometimes jerked up when there was a longer pause between his breaths. She and I looked at each other, then he would heave a deep breath and begin again.

This had to be done. Even now, he had a stern, still handsome profile, the profile of an absolutist, a romantic. His breath indicated an arduous journey, some steep path, altitude.

He seemed to be climbing.

But with that will, that work ethic, that strength, there was also sweet Steve’s capacity for wonderment, the artist’s belief in the ideal, the still more beautiful later.

Steve’s final words, hours earlier, were monosyllables, repeated three times.

Before embarking, he’d looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life’s partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them.

Steve’s final words were:

OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW.

Mona Simpson is a novelist and a professor of English at the University of California, Los Angeles. She delivered this eulogy for her brother, Steve Jobs, on Oct. 16 at his memorial service at the Memorial Church of Stanford University.

I do not complain about the weather or anything else when out at events like SXSW and always appreciate the opportunities afforded me as a member of the AOL/Weblogs team. Thank you benevolent AOL/Weblogs overlords for all that you do for me.

Okay, with that done, we can now get on to the business at hand and I can bring you a cool new video from innovative filmmaker Dennis Liu.

You may recall I interviewed Dennis for TUAW awhile back about his previous work, a music video for The Bird and the Bee’s song “Again and Again.” Now, Dennis is back with another Mac-centric short film which I find not only highly amusing but extremely innovative in its simplicity. Plus, it helps you find ways to watch porn at the office.

Putting it another way, this kid’s got chops.

Oh, before I forget, if you happen to be in Austin for SXSW, be sure to say hello. Also, I accept most offers of free beer and/or cookies. And cake. I like cake. But please, no pie. Sorry, you gotta draw the line somewhere and I draw it at pie.

Enjoy the video.

Until then, let’s take a look at some interesting links for the week, shall we?

My interview with Hack/Slash creator Tim Seeley at ComicMix

My latest BSG Weekly at ComicMix

My interview with innovative filmmaker James Liu at TUAW

I thought I had a lot of computers.

If you happen to be in LA on June 1st and want to take a stand against abuse of photographers taking pictures in public places, check out this post.

And just so we have some artwork to accompany this post, here’s a couple of my favorites from Tim Seeley. One from Hack/Slash. Which, by the way, is a great comic you should be reading. And one from his other work on Forgotten Realms: Halfling’s Gem. Enjoy

Apple honcho Steve Jobs announced a bunch of new stuff today. Among the items were new, improved iMacs complete with shiny anodized aluminum keyboards, iLife ’08, increased storage and other improvements to .Mac (finally) and a new iWork suite of applications — including an “Excel killer” called Numbers. All in all, some pretty interesting new stuff that I can’t wait to try out.

I’ve already ordered iLife ’08 and will probably get iWork ’08 too — any chance to use something besides Word is ok with me. I might also go for a new iMac, but probably not right away. They do look cool, though, so it will be hard to hold off for too long. Also, it might be fun to get a new Mac Mini as well, seeing as how his Steveness saw fit to update those today as well. With the recent release of the iPhone and now this stuff, its great to be an Apple user these days.

Also, if you like Apple and you like Podcasts then you’re in luck because over at TUAW we’re doing another live Talkcast/Podcast about all-things Apple. Its this Thursday, 9:30PM Eastern and I’ll be on it along with my esteemed TUAW colleagues Scott McNulty, David Chartier and Mike Rose. We also did one last week as well so check that one out too.

For all the details on how to listen to this week’s Talkcast and even call in live with your comments and questions, head on over here. We like doing these Talkcasts that become Podcasts and they will probably become a regular thing. So, if you have the time, tune in. Finally, I wrote a bit of an editorial on my feelings and the state of Comic-Con over at Cinematical.

It should be up tomorrow barring any unforeseen issues like they decide I’ve written it way too long and gone off on a tirade or something. Me on a tirade or writing something way too long? Not possible.

It may come as somewhat of a surprise that I, the vehement Apple fan would ever say anything even remotely negative about my favorite computer — er, sorry “consumer electronics” — company, but here I am saying just that. After much hype, speculation and furor all across the web and beyond, the Apple Worldwide Developer Conference Keynote went off this morning not with the expected bang, but with a whimper. And not a particularly interesting whimper either.

Sure, there were some interesting things about it but those bits of joy were few and far between. Basically, what it amounted to was a big commercial for Apple’s upcoming update to OSX called Leopard and some bits about the iPhone and the fact that yes, you can now experience the bliss of using the Safari web browser on your Windows PC. There are some cool ones like Time Machine and the new look for the Desktop but without actually using it I can’t get too excited yet. If you’re really interested, the full list of the new features Leopard has to offer can be found here.

I have to say I was expecting more. Although, some might argue that I really shouldn’t because this event is geared towards software developers and so isn’t the place to debut new, exciting updates to Apple’s products. Nor is it the proper venue to announce new additions to Apple’s ever-expanding line of consumer electronics. That might be true but Apple needs to remember one thing when they decide the content for these keynotes: everyone is watching.

Apple is a trend-setting company whose products have a tremendous appeal and whose influence is felt in many corners of the business and consumer markets. They are not the little company in Cupertino trying to make it anymore. They are a world player to rival the biggest in the industry and they shouldn’t waste any opportunity to announce new stuff — especially stuff people are really waiting to see. So, given all of that, what did I want from the keynote? I’m glad you asked because I made a list:

• Something about an update for Apple’s ailing suite of .Mac offerings. The days where getting what amounts to an email account and 1GB of online storage for a hundred bucks a year are drawing to a close. Apple needs to make .Mac more valuable and even better, make it free, for it to compete in today’s world where Google gives it all away. Not only that, but now it seems that .Mac was not only overlooked during the keynote, but has disappeared from Apple’s website completely. Mmm, I wonder where it’s gone? Hopefully it will surface somewhere new and be more fantastic than ever. Google anyone?

• Something about an update for Apple’s suite of iApps which include iPhoto, iMovie and iWeb. I like all of these applications but it would be great if they did more — especially in the case of iWeb. Its pretty good for version 1.0 but it really needs more features and more custom features to remain viable. Of course, there’s always the chance that the iApps are also going to appear somewhere else. Maybe they will end up being available the same way .Mac will?

• New hardware. How about an updated iMac in stunning aluminum enclosure or something I really, really want: a 13″ MacBook Pro. Surely Apple recognizes the need for a ultra-portable Mac laptop for business people who don’t want to lug the 15″ MacBook Pro around with them and who won’t want to use a MacBook. More than anything, I would really love Apple to come out with this kind of machine. If they do, I’ll be ordering one the first second its available. I can’t be the only person who wants one of these, can I?

• Tone down the iPhone hype a bit. Sure, the iPhone looks cool and on the surface seems to have a bunch of great features. But seriously, its not the second coming or anything. It’s a phone that supposedly does a lot of other stuff still unproven in real-world conditions.

So, while you’re flogging the crap out of the iPhone, it might not be a bad idea to remember your loyal user base of Mac computer users. You remember them, right? The ones that kept buying Macs even though everyone in the press was predicting Apple’s imminent demise? They kept the company going during the dark times of Amelio and Scully so please try to remember and throw them a bone once in awhile. They deserve your respect and your thanks.

All the hype and attention surrounding the iPhone and its imminent release to a salivating public is one of the reasons I’m counting the days until it finally comes out. Once its finally out there and succeeds massively or falls flat on it shiny, touch screened face, maybe Apple can then get back to doing what it has always done best, make terrific computers that “just work.” Until then, if I have to watch any more Keynotes like this I’m gonna need a lot more coffee.

The real question on my mind now is who the heck do we get to be our next President when we have our election in only eighteen months or so. We need someone who can help restore the world’s faith in our country and help us reagin our standing as the world leader we should be.

I pretty much know how I’m going to vote but its always good to hear other opinions. Following that logic, here’s what Chris Rock has to say on the subject:

Also, if you’re a fan of interesting commercials (and great ones from the past), politics and the Mac as I am, then this next bit of video should be right up your alley.

I really like some of the more subtle updates to the add — especially the inclusion of the iPod on the hip of the hammer-wielding woman. From a technical standpoint, also very well done. (Actually it occurred to me later that the person making this video probably used the updated version of the commercial already featuring the iPod and didn’t add it himself/herself. Still, a great job.)

Lastly, I’ve been thinking about how to reform our government and the election process and have some ideas. But for now, just enjoy the video. We can get into massive change later.

Over at this site they have an interesting bit of info on the film 300 and how the Macintosh was a very big part of getting the film done. Some of the Apple tech that was used to make the film possible include Final Cut Pro, Shake and Quicktime. Even though the film was primarily edited on an AVID system, the filmmakers said they prefer to use Macs running Final Cut instead of AVID. Interesting bit of info. And, if you want even more, head on over to the FX Guide site. Even more bits of interesting info there including the above mentioned ‘Death Monkey.’

While we are on the subject of 300, I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed the film. As I usually do these days, I went in with almost no expectations and as open a mind as I could possibly muster. Fortuntely, the film more than lived up to the hype and I was rewarded with a great experience. Sure, the film isn’t perfect but its a visual treat that should not be missed. Obviously, I’m not alone here because the film made over $70 milion in the first weekend — the third biggest opening weekend for an R-rated film of all time, btw. So, get a babysitter and go out and see the movie if you haven’t already.

Also, got some new stuff up over at Cinematical — including details on Frank Miller’s career aspirations, Michael Eisner’s new venture and the YouTube saga — as well as a brand new ‘Ask the MACist‘ over at LAist. Plus, I should have a couple things coming out at CBR in a few days as well. And, possibly something new and cool I’m not at liberty to discuss just yet too. You’ll just have to chcck back to find out, sorry.

As much as I love ecto and all its blogging goodness I sometimes wonder if something better is out there to suit my needs. So, I have decided to give Mars Edit a try. I only downloaded it this evening and this is the first post with it. So far, so good. Over the next week or so I am going to put it through its paces, kick the tires and generally see what’s what with the program.

Then, as I often do, I will give it a thumbs up or down and say some reasons why. Until then, happy blogging all and to all a good night.

Apple tv released next month.