"The CrunchPad is now in the DeadPool," writes TechCrunch founder Mike Arrington. "The entire project self destructed over nothing more than greed, jealousy and miscommunication... I'm enraged, embarrassed, and just…sad. "

It seems Arrington's supplier on the project, Fusion Garage, decided to cut TechCrunch out of the project, save for an "evangelism" role, and just sell the tablet itself. Arrington now says "multiple lawsuits" are a near-certainty. There's a lesson here for all the media companies looking to jump onto the tablet computing bandwagon: When you yourself know nothing about tech manufacturing, you will tend to get pushed into the backseat on any tech manufacturing project. Also: Never accept an award from Popular Mechanics.

(Image via)

VentureBeat's Paul Boutin wonders what the deal is with "Mike No-Show Arrington... punting" on events. Isn't it obvious? Arrington knows he's the "top draw;" how better to prove it to the rest of the world than by strategically withholding himself now and again? That's just Diva 101, right there. And TechCrunch's feudy publisher is nothing if not a diva.

(Pic: Arrington with fellow diva Megan Asha, by Robert Scoble.)

TechCrunch founder Mike Arrington has been working on his "CrunchPad" for more than a year now. TechCrunch posted a mockup of the "near-final industrial design" in June and Arrington predicted a July ship date, now three months come and gone. To become Product of the Year, shouldn't CrunchPad at least exist in the form of a demo unit that circulates to a reasonable number of journalists? Or be actually, err, shipping?

Not that the product isn't under development, or won't come out. If anything, Arrington, who has posted sporadic prototype photos to TechCrunch, deserves kudos for whipping up such absurdly enthusiastic press interest. He's helped along by one simple truth: Journalists have always loved the idea that one of their own can strike it rich. With the industry in its present shape, who can blame them for clinging to that hope especially tightly?

Calacanis had proclaimed on Twitter and in a YouTube interview the end of the TechCrunch 50, the Web startup conference the Mahalo founder hosts with Arrington. Calacanis had told others at this year's conference about a fight with TechCrunch.com publisher Arrington, VentureBeat reported. Arrington played the blasé diva when we called him for comment, saying, "I'm not going to say I didn't have words with him because I have words with people all the time... life will go on without Jason Calacanis."

Now, Calacanis tells VentureBeat, the conference is back on. The short celebrity gladhander has a vested interest in reprising his odd couple conference routine with Arrington, the tall, beefy self-styled don of the Valley's hopelessly geeky startup scene: In an economic environment where other conferences are struggling, TechCrunch 50 remains a financial success for Calacanis and Arrington and, more to the point, a fantastically powerful vehicle for publicity and influence. And, besides, with the name tied to Arrington's trademark, what's to keep him from doing it without Calacanis?

It must be a bit embarrassing for Calacanis to crawl back to Arrington after so loudly storming off. To salvage his dignity, he's now claiming, to VentureBeat, that he was only kidding around, in part because the YouTube interview was conducted by a puppet:

[16:05] jasoncalacanis: I'm just shocked folks are taking this seriously. I mean… a puppet. It was in fact, a puppet.

[16:05] jasoncalacanis: then again, i guess if you hear mike and i fighting it isn't pleasant.

[16:06] paulboutin@mac.com: You were all too convincing. I think you really were Done With This Baloney when you talked to the puppet.

[16:06] paulboutin@mac.com: The makeup video is cute. I'm running it with your quotes.

[16:06] jasoncalacanis: Truth = we fight like rabid dogs and neither of us have to compromise in any other parts of our business.

[16:07] jasoncalacanis: False = we would throw an amazing event like this out the window.

(Top pic: Andrew Mager)

"EPIC-EST FAIL EVER," reads a headline superimposed on the flag of Brazil and attached to Lacy's latest post on TechCrunch, in which the Yahoo Finance anchor admonishes Brazilian entrepreneurs to "blame your government" for the terrible tragedy of... not being allowed to meet with Sarah Lacy. Amid all her jet setting, Lacy apparently failed to apply for a visa in time, because she was forced to turn to an expediter. But the computers at the consulate were being upgraded that week, so Lacy was shit out of luck.

Her response? Some angry tweets, followed by today's lengthy TechCrunch post, which makes sure to mention how dangerous and underdeveloped Brazil is, as well as how a PR company helped orchestrate her visit, to a place "no one in the Valley" particularly cared about:

It's particularly ironic given that the Brazilian government has recently hired the PR firm Fleishman Hillard to go around talking up its commitment to IT and entrepreneurship. You want foreign investment and attention, Brazil? Here's an idea: LET PEOPLE ENTER THE DAMN COUNTRY. You want to show your IT prowess? How about outfitting your consulates with computer systems that work? ...The country should be embarrassed.

This is definitely the worst thing that has happened in Brazil, ever, Sarah Lacy not being allowed to visit.. "Epic-est fail" indeed. And what's weird about this whole situation is that the word "Brazil" has never before been associated with bureaucratic dystopia. And it's not like the U.S. has a dysfunctional visa system. We're sure if any of this were the case, Sarah, as a professional writer, would have made some reference to it.

(Pic by lunaweb on Flickr.)

There is no ambiguity about the facts now: In response to an FCC inquiry, Apple has released a statement absolving its carrier partner, stating, "Apple is acting alone and has not consulted with AT&T about whether or not to approve the Google Voice application." AT&T confirmed, "AT&T had no role in any decision by Apple to not accept the Google Voice application for inclusion in the Apple App Store."

For users, the death of Google Voice on the iPhone — via the removal of some iPhone apps and indefinitely delay of another — meant more expensive text messages and international calls, and more snafus in trying to get friends to use the Google Voice phone number. It kept them locked in close to Jobs and his software, a relationship the Apple CEO guards jealously, some say anticompetitively. Jobs, for example, tried to lock Palm out of Apple's iTunes music jukebox; apparently tried to lock employees out of lucrative offers from competitors like Palm and Google; and tried (successfully) to lock competing browsers and podcasting software off the iPhone.

And yet blame was consistently placed on AT&T over the past few weeks. A Wall Street Journal op-ed, written by a Silicon Valley hedge fund manager, explained excatly "Why AT&T Killed Google Voice" (because "AT&T is dragging down the rest of us... and stifling innovation"). TechCrunch, the Valley blog that broke the Google Voice news, immediately declared that "it's not hard to guess who's behind the restriction: our old friend AT&T."

Prominent Mac-news writer John Gruber was the most certain on his Daring Fireball website. "Trust me," he wrote, "it was AT&T's decision." Gruber cited "an informed source:"

A reliable little birdie has informed me that it was indeed AT&T that objected to Google Voice apps for the iPhone. It's that simple.

Of course, it wasn't. Gruber did not respond to our emails, but so certain did the well-connected indy blogger sound that we can't help but wonder if he wasn't snowed by Apple itself. The company would not necessarily have anticipated that a swift, aggressive and public FCC investigation into the Google Voice incident would have proven AT&T blameless. And it's not like the company's flacks haven't been down this road before; Jim Goldman's sometime source and former CNBC coworker is an Apple flack, and Goldman's Apple sources had him reporting for weeks last fall that Jobs' health was "fine," before Goldman was suddenly forced to acknowledge it was very much not fine. (Gruber pointedly trumpeted CNBC's party-line reporting at the time while pissing on ultimately-vindicated posts from our colleagues at Gizmodo; in the interest of disclosure, we should note that this trend continues to this day, and that we find Gruber as reliably entertaining when he's wrong as when he's right, albeit for entirely different reasons.)

No matter how Apple's defenders were rallied this time around — we suspect, as a rule, that it had more to do with anti-AT&T bias than some pro-Apple whisper campaign — one can only hope this incident will further erode the myth that Apple is fundamentally any less inclined toward spiteful self-defeating authoritarianism than any other corporation of its size, be it AT&T, Google or, only slightly larger these days, Microsoft. Apple is uniquely molded to the whims of a single man, it is true, and already apologists have begun to excuse the Google Voice decision as fallout from Jobs' well-intentioned obsession with control. But Jobs, like his competitors, must be judged on actions, rather than intentions. And this one is pretty disgraceful.

UPDATE, Aug. 26: Gruber responded to our email:

I saw your post, and I think it's great. Totally fair.

My source (a) was wrong, not lying; and (b) from the enlisted ranks at Apple, not an officer. I am strong believer that when anonymous sources go wrong, readers deserve to know as much as possible about why, so, based on a few emails today exchanged with this same source, I plan to write about it briefly on DF. [Summary: The Apple source had his own Apple source, who he misunderstood.]

* * *

As for Goldman, I do not believe that he was spun back in December. Here's the nut paragraph Goldman wrote in December:

"I can tell you that sources inside the company tell me that Jobs's decision was more about politics than his pancreas. Sources tell me that if Jobs for some reason was unable to perform any of his responsibilities as CEO because of health reasons, which would include the Macworld keynote, I should "rest assured that the board would let me know.""

Clearly, we now know, wrong. But wrong about what? It was wrong that there was nothing seriously wrong with Jobs medically. But I am not convinced at all that anyone at Apple or on the Apple board was aware of how dire his condition was at that time, other than judging by his gaunt appearance — which at that point had been obvious for 8 or 9 months.

My hunch is that it is far more likely that Goldman's sources were unaware of Jobs's medical condition in December than that they lied to him about it. Think of it this way: Apple didn't benefit at all from December's "Jobs is fine" coverage, other than in the very short run. Come January, when he was forced to take his medical leave, these reports from just a few weeks prior made Apple's PR situation far *worse* than if they had said nothing at all to Goldman.

I suspect Jobs himself was not aware of the life-threatening magnitude or specific cause — his liver — until January.

Asked about a possible lawsuit against TechCrunch at a Fortune event, Twitter co-founder Biz Stone wouldn't rule it out:

"I don't know," he said. "I don't want to comment too much on any ongoing investigation type stuff."

Given the ample legal precedents for Arrington's actions, one would have thought Twitter executives would have surrendered the possibility of suing the publication in the 10 days since TechCrunch first published hacked documents, in full consultation with Twitter.

If the aggrieved microblogging startup is going to try and set a new legal precedent, perhaps that for the best; a legal victory for Arrington would serve as a lesson to his critics, if nothing else.

(Pic: Biz Stone, by HubSpot)

Then again, even a poodle will bite once in a while.

Take the TechCrunch dust-up. The tech business blog sheepishly negotiated with Twitter Inc. the release of internal company documents it received, unsolicited, via email. It was tech bloggers who lead the craven charge, excoriating TechCrunch for daring to run anything at all. On Twitter, several of Arrington's tech elite colleagues said he deserved to be literally spit upon. John Gruber of Daring Fireball called Arrington "a very sad excuse for a man" in a post that garnered strong agreement from longtime newspaperwoman Kara Swisher at All Things D, who added, "there should be no difference between Web 'journalism' and the old-fashioned journalism." Except of course, Swisher was only demonstrating just how different the two are.

This episode's Woodstein was as distraught as anyone to see their dear friends at Twitter burned. TechCrunch founder Mike Arrington wrote: "I wish this had never happened."

But of course, as at least two media lawyers have pointed out, old-fashioned journalists have been utilizing information obtained in violation of both laws and legally-binding civil agreements for years without this sort of ethical outcry. As far as the law goes, it is legal to use such information to journalistic ends, within some fairly wide parameters.

Yet blogs, especially tech blogs, lash themselves oh-so-closely to their sources. TechCrunch is hardly the only example. The diverse and vibrant collection of blogs that track Mac rumors routinely cave to cease and desist letters from Apple, because who wants to end up like the teenaged publisher of ThinkSecret, bullied into submission by Apple for reporting legitimate news about Apple products, news that was proven accurate and was gathered no more nefariously than the stuff that turns up regularly in the Wall Street Journal?

Who wants to be trashed by a spoonfed CNBC reporter , or have your (eventually proven accurate) sources called "illiterate"-sounding by a blogger, for contradicting Apple's company line on the health of its CEO?

This is how journalism dies. Not with a bang, but with a series of favors and quiet surrenders.

(Top pic: Alison McNeill of bub.blicio.us and "Gadget Guy" consultant Dave Mathews engage in a typical in-depth interview at a TechCrunch party last year, via Flickr)

I am genuinely baffled by the journalistic ethics debate over TechCrunch's decision to publish Twitter corporate documents that were apparently obtained through "hacking" and then forwarded to the Silicon Valley business blog.

TechCrunch appears to have played no role whatsoever in the alleged hacking. According to TechCrunch, it was simply sent 310 documents, unsolicited. It then decided to print "financial projections, product plans and notes from executive strategy meetings," as well as "the original pitch document for the Twitter TV show that hit the news in May." Why? "[M]ostly because it's awesome." TechCrunch voluntarily refrained from publishing other information contained in the documents, including "floorplans and security passcodes to get into the Twitter offices." According to the NY Times, TechCrunch's founder Michael Arrington (a fellow OMM alum) "is working closely with Twitter as it determines which pieces of information to publish," though "[h]e is protecting the identity of his source."

Here's what I don't get: why the ethical hand-wringing here? Why was TechCrunch's decision to publish some of the hacked documents any different from what mainstream publications like the Times and Wall Street Journal do countless times every day: print information and documents leaked from employees to reporters, without company permission? Every company I've ever heard of prefers to keep its business information confidential. Often, they have formal confidentiality policies, or even require employees (and contractors) to enter into strict nondisclosure agreements. Of course business reporters know this. And yet, without giving it a second thought, they ask employees to violate their duties to their employers, and leak confidential documents and spill the beans on company secrets. And their editors don't wring their hands; they praise their reporters for their scoops.

In some ways, what typical reporters do in soliciting confidential documents is ethically worse than what TechCrunch did. Reporters typically ask sources to give them confidential documents knowing full well that the employee is breaking company policy, and possibly civil or even criminal laws (e.g., conversion or theft of trade secrets). But TechCrunch did no such thing; by its account, the hacked documents just showed up unsolicited in its inbox. And assuming that's accurate, I think TechCrunch faces no significant legal risk from publishing the material. See Bartnicki v. Vopper, 532 U.S. 514 (2001) (radio host not liable under wiretapping statutes for broadcasting illegally intercepted conversations, where he played no role in illegal interception).

The hand-wringers can't have it both ways. Either TechCrunch's decision to print was perfectly legitimate journalism — or what business reporters do every single day is even more unethical. Am I missing some distinction?

TechCrunch this week published internal Twitter documents obtained by a computer hacker. Twitter wasn't thrilled, but entered talks with the influential business website.

Then, today, TechCrunch claimed it had received a "green light" from the company to publish some internal business discussions. Twitter has now vehemently disputed that, first via its CEO's Twitter stream, then on its blog, where co-founder Biz Stone (pictured) wrote, "we absolutely did not give permission for these documents to be shared."

Several hours later, TechCrunch had not changed its posting or addressed Twitter's contradictory version of events. We called TechCrunch founder Mike Arrington to clear up the confusion, but he cryptically said he wouldn't comment on the matter for at least 24 hours. We asked if this meant no new statements would be posted to TechCrunch, and he wouldn't comment on that, either.

Twitter, meanwhile, sounds like it's rattling a saber. From Stone's blog post:

Out of context, rudimentary notes of internal discussions will be misinterpreted by current and future partners jeopardizing our business relationships. We are pursuing a path to address the harm caused by these actions and as noted yesterday, we've already reached out to the partners and individuals affected.

And so it begins. Who would have thought that blogs vs. microblogs would be one of the fiercest media wars of 2009? It's enough to make you long for a good old fashioned Google-newspaper fight.

TechCrunch has issued its final post based on hacker-obtained Twitter documents; the post reveals internal Twitter strategy discussions, including talks about the company's relationships with celebrities and tech giants Google and Microsoft.

But there was plenty missing:

There are some details about partner discussions, particularly around
Google and Microsoft, that we are just not going to publish. Twitter
has been in negotiations with both companies around a broad set of
transactions for months. But we aren't going to go into great detail
about exactly what has been discussed, or Twitter's strategies toward
those negotiations. So while it looks like there is a lot of detail
around those discussions below, the most sensitive stuff has been
removed.

Information about Twitter's negotiations with Google and Microsoft is undeniably newsworthy; most business journalists would rush to publish exclusive information on such matters. Not all would accept documents obtained from a hacker as valid sourcing, mind you, but then TechCrunch has already crossed that particular Rubicon.

Witholding the juiciest Twitter leaks isn't going to appease TechCrunch's haters, who have called publisher Mike Arrington "a very sad excuse for a man" and worse for his use of hacker-tainted documents. What it will do is highlight how the publication is negotiating story content with the subjects of said stories, an absurd situation; if Arrington believes the documents are usable sources, and accurate, there's nothing left to negotiate.

Leakers should come to us instead; if and when we use your stuff, we won't go half-assed about it.

(Pic: Arrington by Thomas Hawk)

In short, I follow TechCrunch on Twitter, so it does not show up in my list of suggested users. I did do some digging prior to my post to find out if everyone was presented with the same Suggested User List, and even confirmed with someone else that the user was not on that person's list, but obviously should have dug deeper in fact checking.

Original, now retracted story here:

Twitter's Suggested User List has been controversial lately, since it's tremendously valuable yet tremendously mysterious. Well, the microblogging startup just cleared up one thing: Cross Twitter, and you're off the list.

As of just yesterday, TechCrunch was on the so-called SUL, and founder Mike Arrington has blogged that the list position can generate 10,000 new signups a day. Fellow entrepreneur Jason Calacanis has even offered Twitter $250,000 for a slot.

TechCrunch is now off the list, one day after very controversially publishing internal Twitter documents it obtained from a computer hacker. Twitter originally said its list was determined by factors like whether an account has "fairly wide or mainstream appeal," but yesterday the startup hinted in a blog post that TechCrunch, whose appeal is well documented, might have made itself an exception:

...publishing these documents publicly could jeopardize relationships with Twitter's ongoing and potential partners.

There's no question that Arrington's ethics — and TechCrunch's integrity, by extension — were widely attacked outside of Twitter yesterday. Posts calling him "a very sad excuse for a man" and "SCUM" set the tone.

But by apparently wielding its star-making list as a weapon, Twitter just makes it a bigger point of discussion. Disaffected early adopters have been grumbling for months; one, blogging pioneer Dave Winer, predicted the Arrington situation back in March:

I do think the company should have done this much more carefully... And the people who got the push have a problem if they are members of the press, because this gift they got from Twitter is worth money... What if a reporter were critical of Twitter in a piece she wrote, would Twitter revoke her status?

For all its technical deficiencies, Twitter ended up scoring a PR victory from its hack attack, because it looked to many like the victim of an overeager publisher. Now it risks snatching defeat from the jaws of that victory, by looking like a bully. It's apparently a risk the company is willing to take; Arrington does have a remarkable talent for infuriating people like that.

TechCrunch has published financial forecasts assembled by Twitter Inc in February and obtained from management's personal files by a computer hacker. They project $400,000 in revenue this quarter, presumably from those adorable "concept definition" ads. Sales were projected to increase tenfold by the fourth quarter, ramping to $62 million by the fourth quarter of next year.

Twitter Inc., which doesn't like people talking about its hacked internal documents, told TechCrunch the numbers are stale and unofficial. But, specifics aside, they leave the unmistakable impression the microblogging service was serious about making money this year. That goal may have been intended only for company backers; now that it has gone public, there will be even more pressure on the company to make its creative approach to advertising pay off over the next five months.

(Top pic: Twitter CEO Evan Williams at Allen & Co.'s Sun Valley media summit July 10, 2009.)

The documents show fast-growing Twitter estimates it will have 25 million users at the end of this year, 100 million at the end of 2010 and 350 million at the end of 2011, estimates ambitious even by the standards of optimistic Silicon Valley startups to say nothing of a microblogging service that has had trouble serving just it's existing user base.

More revealing: A "wish list" from Twitter's employees, reprinted by the French website Korben. The company has raided top talent from Google's notoriously entitled ranks, so perhaps it should come as no shock that its staff are demanding a wine cellar:

Plans for new offices including a wish list from the employees who would like a nap room, a games room, plants, a chief cuisto, a meditation hall, garages to cycling, Adjustable offices, a gym, a meditation room, a washer / dryer, wifi, lockers, wine cellar, an aquarium and so on ... They have imagination.

Documents revealed by the hacker:

Twitter email account

Evan Williams' Facebook profile

Twitter floor plan

Plans for Twitter reality show

Plans for Twitter reality show, part 2

Plans for Twitter apparel

List of high-profile Twitter users

Twitter's domain name control panel

Yesterday's Gillmor Gang topic: the Palm Pre. Things started out nice enough when LaPorte - who owns and operates netcast network TWiT.tv, on which the show is featured - was discussing how much he enjoyed his new toy. Arrington, sounding a little bitter about not having one, asks LaPorte whether or not he got his for free. LaPorte notes that yeah, he did, but that he wasn't the only one! Arrington notes it to be on the record, and that's when LaPorte really gets pissed, especially over the implication that the fact that he got the thing for free would ever influence his review over a highly coveted tech product! Arrington chuckles back: "What're you gonna do about it?" That's when LaPorte lets loose, and promptly shuts the show down:

Glorious, no? The program, as you can tell, actually did get shut down. Arrington later went on TechCrunch to issue an apology to LaPorte, explaining that he didn't at all intend to provoke him, and that he was just joshin' him:

I've had a lot of interactions with [LaPorte] and they've always been positive. Or at least I thought so. I wasn't watching the video live during the show and I really thought Leo was joking until the very end (as did Steve Gillmor and Loren Feldman, who were chuckling in the video). My "what are you going to do about it" comment doesn't sound so great in hindsight. But I really did just think he was joking around.

It gets better, though: Arrington noted at the end of his apology post on TechCrunch that comments were going to be moderated. LaPorte kindly comments on Arrington's post with a mutual apology for the snapping:

Thanks for the post, Mike. Apology accepted. Now that I know what was going on in your mind, I apologize to you.

There seems to be something about the Gillmor Gang that just engenders over the top passion. I'm embarrassed by my overreaction. Peace.

But it ain't over, yet, because the commenters are pissed about being moderated by Arrington! Arrington, who has received numerous death threats before over his site, responds thusly:

Many comments are complaining about comment moderation. This isn't about free speech. It's about dozens of death threats and hundreds of others saying pretty horrible things about one of of us. You may think that your comment needs to get heard and that calling for someone to die shouldn't be taken seriously. But multiply that by hundreds and maybe you'll get a sense of this. I was rude. I made the problem worse by saying things because I thought he was play-mad. and then i apologized. i may be a lot of things but i don't think i deserve to die over this. please. stop. i can't deal with the death threats after what happened last year and then this year in europe. leo won. you guys won. i surrender. just stop. please. stop.

Quite simply, Arrington was being "cute," and this thing just blew up in their faces. Really, the problem is that these guys never played a game of two-hand-touch in their lives. No harm, no foul!

And who the hell is making death threats to Michael Arrington over this? Jesus. Arrington then notes in the comments that this "ruined [his] entire weekend. for fuck's sake." And why wouldn't it?

Lesson learned: gadget nerds are terrifying! I'm going back to writing about Sesame Street and hipsters. Goodbye. Freaks.

N.B. One commenter on TechCrunch noted that Arrington has been "Keyboard Catted." Which made me laugh very loudly. Gadget nerds: terrifying. But hysterical: The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

Guardian writer Bobbie Johnson sought proof his employer deserved worship.

ABC newslunk Jake Tapper never thought he'd be on a copter.

Chicago Tribune twitter newbie Stacy St. Clair objected to the belittling of fictional furry creatures.

TechCrunch editor Erick Schonfeld tried to unload Brooklyn real estate.

Forbes writer Brian Caulfield delivered a veiled threat to his gadget collection.

Did you witness the media elite tweet something indiscreet? Please email us your favorite tweets — or send us more Twitter usernames.

D.C. videoblogger Andy Carvin rendered himself unfit for the camera.

Chicago Tribune reporter Wailin Wong discovered that magical Susan Boyle singing clip.

Formerly relevant Web-video personality Amanda Congdon made progress in her quest to become a crazy cat lady.

Wired.com's Priya Ganapati hit up a Twitter user as a source. And another. And another.

TechCrunch contributor Sarah Lacy displayed the toxic aftereffects of exposure to Julia Allison.

Did you witness the media elite tweet something indiscreet? Please email us your favorite tweets — or send us more Twitter usernames.

New Yorker music critic Sasha Frere-Jones displayed a "fondness" for "air" "quotes."

Erstwhile checkout-aisle influence-peddler Bonnie Fuller was disappointed in Sarah Palin.

BusinessWeek's Spencer Ante cozied up to some Beatles.

TechCrunch editor Erick Schonfeld spatted with sharp-tongued AllThingsD mommyblogger Kara Swisher.

And Swisher responded in kind.

Did you witness the media elite tweet something indiscreet? Please email us your favorite tweets — or send us more Twitter usernames.

First the voluble tech blogger, an opinionated chronicler of the obscurest of Web startups, announced BusinessWeek online columnist Sarah Lacy as a substitute writer. Then he said he had to file two more interviews from Davos, the power conference of the world's economic hyperelite. Then he announced another substitute.

This protracted exit makes one wonder: Is Arrington's biggest fear that the Web might not actually miss him? It's a double-edged sword: TechCrunch's overdependence on one outsized personality was a factor in AOL dropping acquisition talks. If he can prove that TechCrunch can carry on without him, then he might be able to unload it on some larger buyer — though surely at a steep discount to the $100 million price he's bandied about. But if he shows that an Arrington-free TechCrunch is a going concern, any acquirer will surely want to fire the erratic founder as soon as the ink dries on the deal, rather than deal with his ongoing emotional outbursts. That would deprive him of the public stature he claims to hate, but so clearly craves. It's a dilemma which is surely the most plausible explanation for Arrington's reluctant exit.

Yesterday, someone spat on Arrington at a conference in Munich. For the self-crowned king of startups — which is worth a Twitter follower list that numbers in the thousands and a bobblehead doll made in your likeness — that was an unforgivable act of lèse-majesté. So, he wants to abdicate. "In the past I've been grabbed, pulled, shoved and otherwise abused at events," he writes, "but never spat on. I think this is where I'm going to draw a line."

Arrington has encouraged a fantasy among his followers: Get written up in TechCrunch, and your startup will get funding and you will become rich. Arrington himself rather expected the same would happen to him — that one of his VC buddies would plow millions into TechCrunch, or one of the dealmakers he lionized would snap up TechCrunch for a large media company. His hoped-for exit never happened — and likely never will, now that the Web 2.0 bubble which TechCrunch was founded to chronicle has evaporated.

Instead, he's stuck with a dream deferred, and a nightmare realized. Over the summer, Arrington attracted a mentally unbalanced stalker who made violent threats, and he went into hiding at his parents' home in Washington state. He ended up paying $2,000 a day for private security on TechCrunch's office, which is also his home. Is there a better example of the costs of being famous, and how few benefits attach?

The only answer is to go into hiding, which Arrington is doing. But only after he attends the World Economic Forum in Davos.

(Photo by meattle)