When I woke up September 3, 2004, I had a splitting headache. Like many college undergrads having had too much alcohol the night before, I was ready to swear off the poison in hopes that the throbbing of my head would stop. Of course, no amount of sacrifice would make the temporary pain stop.

The morning would get much worse before I would begin to feel better. I had passed out on the couch of my living room as I watched states go red. In the way most politically active young people react, I had felt that the world had gone mad. My vote, already counting for very little, was at least part of a greater resistance. My state went blue, hardly a surprise considering I was living in Rhode Island. My state had said, “not us.” The nation as a whole said otherwise. I was disgusted, and my TV had stayed on, cheerfully (as it was relatively early still) informing me that the votes had been counted in other states.

My sense that a nightmare would end was wrong. My opinion of certain conservative members of my own family was called into question. I made my statement in the way such statements must be made: aloud. “I will never get so wrapped up in an election again.” As little as the statement did to my hangover, it became a litany in my life. 2006 came, and while I voted as I felt for Rhode Island’s open Senate seat, I could comfortably acknowledge the “other guy” as a decent and honorable man. I didn’t feel quite so emotionally attached, and it was good.

Now, in April of 2008, I find my litany challenged, not for the reasons I would have suspected, but out of a frustration with everything related. To be honest, the candidate I currently support was not my first choice, nor my second. I have learned to appreciate him for his depth and his understanding, but it did take some time.

I have read and sadly find myself agreeing with Al Gore when he bemoans the end of the Age of Reason. Part of this bitterness comes from the pains I felt so closely in 2004, as well as the pains I feel every time I hear of a friend going on a tour in Iraq. Some part of me still rages at Pennsylvania, Florida, and Ohio. Another part of me rages at my now Senator, John Kerry, for not being aggressive enough, for not playing Bush’s rhetorical game of chess. I’ve seen him in person twice now, and I can tell how much better he can be in person than he ever was on television. Another part of me suspects it wouldn’t have made a difference.

I will not suggest that the election was “stolen” or people who voted for Bush were somehow “uninformed.” Those I know who voted Republican were generally well informed, and there was certainly enough of them that it is certainly no fluke nor impossibility Bush won. He played fast pitch and Kerry just wasn’t quick enough.

I should also say what rankles most about these last four years is not the blood, the cost of gas, the sadness of the future. These could and probably would have happened no matter the victor. What rankles is the game. For the third time of my observation, George Bush took down an opponent not by actually addressing issues, but by repeating a false rhetoric and using media connections to further repeat these mistruths.

I studied rhetoric in college and the usage of the language to twist the reputations of good men struck me as anti-ethical. Arguments of “reality-based communities” openly admitted the old systems had been co-opted. Regardless of what was “true,” we had the media discussing unsubstantiated allegations fed to them. And when truths were discussed, it was a discussion not on the message, but on the telling. This was a distinction I felt and feel is very telling. Discussing the telling is easier, “Kerry just can’t loosen up. Bush appears more relaxed.” Messages appeared meaningless. The election in 2004 or, for that matter, 2000 had ceased to be about issues at all. It was the straight-laced Ivy League Liberal Elites vs the down-to-earth Texas Rancher. The reality of either side rarely entered the discussion.

2006 was in some ways a break. In Rhode Island, the discussion and decision for the key Senate seat was straight forward, a single variable equation: which party would the winner caucus with. The victor had nothing but good things to say about Lincoln Chafee, the incumbent, aside from that single variable. The challenger, Sheldon Whitehouse won.

In this presidential cycle, we have seen these new old systems come into play once again. It’s beyond personal attacks; it’s only personality. When the field was wide, there was at least some discussion on the Democrat side of issues. Even then, it was beginning. “Barack Obama speaks so eloquently,” as if eloquence was something amazing in a politician. I will be the first to say he is by far the best public speaker either party has seen in about twenty years, but what was more important was where he stood on the issues. It turns out, he was and is strong, stronger than those I supported beforehand. But, almost more importantly, he tends not to sling mud.

We have been presented with a unique and interesting experience as citizens of the United States in this age. Three candidates, differing on many issues, all being constantly torn down by each other and by the media. No one is safe, and the “positive” stories are barely mentioned. The media coverage of all three is antagonistic.

There are good stories for all three, great ones even. McCain’s views of the war should be presented alongside the fact that his own son is presented with the consequences of his decisions. He constantly makes decisions that are almost impossibly hard for any parent. Hillary has seen how to run this country well. She has been directly exposed to the administration that has seen the smoothest economy since the New Deal. She also has one of the best advisors any President could want, regardless of how his personal decisions have polarized the nation. Obama has a consistent message and history that he doesn’t need to explain away.

What of these three do we see: McCain’s gaffes, his “senior moments,” his hundred year comment. Hillary’s attacks, her tears, her flawed memories. Obama’s pastor, his “bitter” comment, the “cult of personality.” All things that must be taken into account, but hardly the measure of a man, or a candidate, or a platform. What should we see? Their stands, maybe.

When McCain said he intended to stay in Iraq indefinitely, it was not a prescription for endless war, but a very nuanced standpoint that, if you follow an interventionist view on foreign policy, makes sense. It would be a mistake to simply walk away and assume everything would go to plan. It is a stance that both Hillary and Obama would do well to honestly address. We don’t have that discussion, one about a defining feature of present and future U.S. foreign policy.

When Hillary talks about her experience, both in Senate and as the First Lady, is does the truth a disservice by not discussing it. Her role in both was not minor, and she has very strong opinions on various topics, such as health care. We talk about her experience, thankfully we even talk a little bit about her proposals. We don’t talk about why her proposals have changed so much in eight years. We don’t talk about where the money of her campaign comes from. Where is the nuanced discussion of health care in America? Do we have to have it from Michael Moore?

Obama’s pastor was angry, maybe even justifiably so, but we never discussed his possible justification, just the way the message was delivered. We held Obama to his pastor’s behavior without a discussion of the message. His bitter comment? Well, have we really looked at if the people living in rural America are bitter? According to my time in rural Pennsylvania, they are and justifiably so. Where is the discussion among the candidates and the media about a growing class distinction? We mention “the two Americas,” but it is a talking point, not a discussion.

Among the candidates, we begin to see hope. At least, in one candidate. The rhetoric of both McCain and Hillary is similar, the other guy is bad. Some assertion is made, veracity and nuance be damned. Obama is not immune to these problems, but he spends far more time discussing problems and solutions to issues. The cult of personality related to him is the hope of a new day, one in which it isn’t about personality, but a change in the discussion. That’s a cult I can support.

In a moment of weakness (also known as a visit to the Apple Store) last week, I found myself parting with more money than I can easily justify for a shiny new iPhone. What followed was somewhat painful; canceling T-Mobile this soon after I had come back to them hurt, just not as much as the early termination bill soon to arrive in my mailbox.

I’ll get the obvious cheers and jeers out out of the way (I don’t expect that you, dear reader, will have missed them in any of the other thousand iPhone reviews, so feel free to skip the following lists)

Cheers

• The User Interface is amazing - I can’t imagine going back to my once loved PEBL (loved until last Tuesday)
• Apple did some amazing bargaining with AT&T over cost of the plans - I can’t imagine how much this would have cost on any other carrier right now
• I actually seem to like the keyboard

Jeers

• EDGE can be slow - I mean, a couple of minutes to download a text email slow
• The battery life is a bit low - I’m not one of those guys who plays chicken with my cell phone, but at the tail end of a normal day, I look at the battery indicator and wonder how this thing is going to die. It hasn’t yet, but it generally gets a bit too close for my comfort.
• Text selection - I find it interesting that the company famous for bringing GUI concepts like cut and paste to the masses seemed to forget to add that functionality to the iPhone
• Including the YouTube app was a mistake - now I lose so much time just killing my battery whenever I have free moments. I could take some personal responsibility, but blaming Jobs is so much easier
• Ear buds - why couldn’t Apple released at least their in-ear headphones with the push button microphone?

Now that we have the major items out of the way, I would like to discuss how this device changes things for me.

I no longer carry around a creased and bled index card full of notes to myself (the exact title of the book you are looking for is x, it is also found by other name of y). Instead, I put a note into Ta Da Lists and if I need more information, search Google (or Amazon or IMDB). This is handy.

I now understand the usefulness of Twitter and its ilk. I couldn’t understand dealing with it via SMS or just a computer, but with the iPhone it helps keep me sane (like when I spend two hours to see if certain contact lens work (they didn’t and then did) with my poor eyes).

I’m no longer dependent on restaurants (take out or otherwise) that I am familiar and/or have a menu for. Instead, I select my apartment bookmark in Google Maps (or wherever I am) and type in the type of food I am looking for. Minor annoyance, sometimes the most obvious (and closest) place doesn’t seem to make the grade (a direct search does work in those cases). The benefit of being able to call directly from Google Maps has been wonderful.

All in all, there are a number of features that don’t always make sense (why you can only edit contacts from specific screens, why a missed call and a voicemail look the same on the home screen, etc.), but ultimately, the iPhone shows a different perspective in how a cell phone should work. For me, it has ultimately been an extremely positive experience, and I truly can’t imagine going back to any other phone. Nothing even approaches the iPhone with regards to the pleasant experience (even if I cannot stand ear buds - I am not using them, by the way) you simply cannot avoid.

Thank you, Apple. Now, go and finish 10.5 and make me some in-ear headphones so that I may lay even more capital upon your retail alter.

I don’t how many people even remember the olden days of web development. I’m talking about the time when under construction GIFs were accepted, even if a site had been “under construction” for over a year. It was during this era that what has been known as the “browser wars.” We pretty much all took a side, and our pages advertised quite obviously what side we chose. These ubiquitous banners saying “This Site Designed For…” inhabit some dark and painful corner of our minds. When the wars were over, it stopped mattering if you were a Netscape supporter or a Microsoft supporter. You survived and that was all that mattered.

People talk about the war; they say that Firefox started it up again. I don’t think I believe that. Microsoft and Netscape worked very hard at pushing the differences. These days, all of the major players (even Microsoft) work towards a standard. This makes all of our lives easier. I wake up and realize that one day in the future I won’t have to worry about whether or not my design works in both browsers.

Don’t misunderstand; it already has gotten much better, and we are continuing on that path, even if our progress isn’t always in the direction I would hope. But then I see something like this(theregister.co.uk), and I lose much of that faith. For even a small manufacturer to say that the standards are “too hard” or able to be compromised is a statement of arrogance. For it to come out of one of the major players is unforgivable. As a developer and designer, I want to know that by working with one set of rules I can reach the most people. As I have a number of Mac users in this audience (a member am I), as well as an important minority at my full time gig, I can assure you that any solution for me will address them. That solution has historically been the standards.

Reading this article, I find myself imagining a new series of website badges proliferating. It is this vision that shows that, despite all talk towards progress, we still feel the need to homogenize. Microsoft has made some unique strides as of late, and the corporate dialog is one of working together. They have sat on a broken html renderer for the better part of a decade. If Trident cannot be expected to handle web content correctly, it is past time to replace it. And if there are sites that get broken by this fact, it is time they were made to uphold the standards we have all agreed upon years ago.

Bandying around the term “backwards compatibility” is a disingenuous way to say that you are above the standards the community has set.

You are not.

Near the tail end of last year, I replaced my Powerbook for some nice Apple Intel goodness. For the most part, I have loved my new MacBook, although it did require some changes in workflow. This is due to the fact that, at least for me, Microsoft Office runs horribly on Rosetta. It runs worse than my old Photoshop 7.

I switched my one email account (this one) that I used on Entourage over to Mail.app. That was the big change. I don’t use Word or Excel that much, and Keynote puts PowerPoint to utter shame. After that, I spent very little time thinking about it.

Today, I was forced to recall the pain. I needed to write a quick business letter and fired up Word. I guess it was the instance of Photoshop CS3 (wonderful, I should add), but it took literally a minute and a half for the project dialog to come up and be changeable. Everything just sort of hung there afterwards.

Ultimately, the whole ordeal took about an extra ten minutes because of Rosetta, and this was for a ten minute letter. I can only imagine what people who have to use Word for extended periods of time think about this joy. Personally, I’m glad I have nice Universal apps that cover my general writing needs.

While I can accept that it can take a bit of time to update an application for a whole new architecture, I am reminded of why most magazines (that are Mac houses) switched over to InDesign. Adobe took a bit of time in converting their apps over to Mac OS X, but Quark took a much longer time. This meant that any creative who needed a layout program and wanted a new computer had to either run Quark in a hobbled environment or use Adobe’s flashy InDesign. If you take a look at the field now, you can see what most shops with a decent budget chose.

Maybe it’s time for someone to really challenge Office on the Mac…

Dearest Real,

I know you and I have gotten along so well for all of these years. As far back as there has been video on the internet, you have been there. When I survived on dial-up, you were there. Whenever I installed a new mp3 player, you were there. Whenever my computer was acting up, you were there. When I moved to broadband and didn’t need streaming video anymore, you were there. When i would take a class in music history that had obvious audio that was stored on a CD, you were there. When I took this job and began to focus on what we gave to the world, you were there. Throughout this internet life, you have been here.

Knowing our long history, you might be surprised by how I feel. It might shock and amaze you; I know it doesn’t to me. But, let us look back at the “good” times.

When I first started looking at video on the internet, you were unwelcome, but required. When I survived on dial-up, you made my computer and thus, my connection slower than it needed to be. Whenever I installed a new mp3 player, you fought it for access to my files, even though I had already told you many times I did not want you to have them. Whenever my computer was acting slow, your system was attempting to gain self awareness. Once I had broadband, you refused to let go and took my downloaded video and garbled it. I deleted you after that. When my music class required your presence, I made sure to do all of my coursework on my work machine after work, just so my personal computer could be free of your influence.

With my current job, I have to have you installed on this machine. I didn’t want to, but somethings are unavoidable. You offered new features, like Message Center. You tell me I can turn it off, just like I could give my mp3 files to another player. But, in the end, you lied, just like when you told me I could give my mp3 files to another player. You cause this machine to hang for ten minutes every time I boot up. You cause me great frustration, just like every other time. And just like every other time, I wish you gone. You are the computer killer, the ultimate in virus technology. Hollywood couldn’t make up your destructive potential every day. Every day, I wonder why Symantec doesn’t see you for what you are.

I’m getting a new workstation next week, Real. And you won’t be invited to the party. I’m going to spend my time converting all of my offices video into a format free from you. I’m not looking forward to the pain of that task, but it is completely required. Our relationship is over, and it makes me joyful to be able to say that. Next time you see me lurking on the internet, go bug someone else. if they are lucky, hopefully someone who doesn’t know you will see this love letter and learn it is completely allowable to simply not get into a relationship with you.

Now, go away.

Emily Nussbaum has an interesting article in New York Magazine (Link) in which she discusses the extreme generation gap specifically with regards to how people raised with technology and computer networks view privacy.

One part that I thoroughly enjoyed was a quote from Clay Shirky (a brilliant man who seems to have given up on his website - http://www.shirky.com):

Shirky describes this generational shift in terms of pidgin versus Creole. “Do you know that distinction? Pidgin is what gets spoken when people patch things together from different languages, so it serves well enough to communicate. But Creole is what the children speak, the children of pidgin speakers. They impose rules and structure, which makes the Creole language completely coherent and expressive, on par with any language. What we are witnessing is the Creolization of media.”

That’s a cool metaphor, I respond. “I actually don’t think it’s a metaphor,” he says. “I think there may actually be real neurological changes involved.”

If I am very honest with myself, I cannot place myself in either camp. I spend too much time online and treat in much the same way my younger cousins do, but ultimately there is always a discomfort that perhaps I’ve said too much…

It is amazing to me how much things have changed and how different my experience with the internet is compared to both my father and one of my younger cousins. In many ways, I live the internet: I work as a web developer, I have two different blogs, I’ve been instant messaging for almost a decade. My father also works in the internet, but his experience is much more unnatural, kind of. He makes purchases, researches various conundrums, and communicates via email and IM. My cousin has a livejournal, a myspace, a facebook. To her, the internet is a place to treat as if it was another physical location.

I find the different levels interesting. Dad’s usage makes it a knowledge platform first and foremost. When it comes to communication, he treats in a one to one or one to few manner. The internet for him is a text-based cellphone and light-weight encyclopedia.

My cousin uses it like it is the physical world. She didn’t seem uncomfortable when I mentioned finding her livejournal and was amused by my attempts to make her feel so. It wasn’t that she had anything really bad on it; I just view a mixing of my offline world and inline world (especially when family is involved) as ultimately a situation to avoid. To her, it is a natural thing, because they are the same thing. I would bet that she doesn’t make a distinction between an online discussion and a discussion in the “real world.”

My usage is similar to hers except that I spend a lot of time thinking about what I want to share and what should remain to myself. A few times on other online forums, the two worlds have collided. The result was usually painless externally, but it would take a good deal of time to let the discomfort fade before I felt free enough to post what I actually wanted to stay.

In many ways, I suspect that my cousin’s attitude might actually be better than mine. I generally don’t shy away from controversial subjects, and the only result of my online discussions have been positive. I’ve met (online) people that I never would have gotten to know otherwise. I’ve gotten job offers because of material I’ve written. Even the noise that can come with playing in such a public forum has constructive value. Aside from a few uncomfortable discussions with my parents, who just don’t understand why I do what I do, I have never suffered from what I love to do.

In the end, the world has and is changing. It will change us, but not as much as we think. I’d imagine that I will pretty much stay the same way I am: a participant in internet culture, but always feeling like I’m missing part of the message. My cousin will probably always be a willing participant that doesn’t understand why people like me “hold back.” And, i doubt I will ever see my father blogging; I’m sure he doesn’t see the value in it.

My first online forum experience was in high school and it was before I heard about this thing called the internet (I dialed into a BBS). It was probably too little too late for me to ever be entirely comfortable with the wide world of the world wide web. I am glad that I have the comfort I do, for I cannot imagine not having this wonderful forum to share my ideals.

The article did a good job of not judging the practice; it was almost anthropological in a sense. In honor of that, I think it must be mentioned explicitly: I don’t think the generation gap referred in the article is one of shifting values, although that is always happening, but one of how our relationship with technology is shaped by our exposure. As in most cases, the change is not good or bad; it is change, pure and simple. And it is inevitable.

Steve Jobs today wrote a response to various European countries that have demanding an “opening up” of the FairPlay DRM scheme that iTunes uses (link).  He refers to a third option as the one that’s best for consumers, an option in which there is no DRM attached to songs purchased off of iTunes.  I would argue that it is best for labels as well as long as certain measures are also put in place.

There is room for a middle ground. We as consumers wish to be able to use content that we have purchased in any device. Regardless of the legal status of music as a “license,” when most people purchase a CD, they feel that they own the CD.  This means that if I want to “rip” a CD onto my computer and then transfer it to my iPod, I should be completely allowed, because I “own” that CD. When I purchase content from iTunes, I no longer seem to own my music. I am blessed in that I have an iPod, a computer, and the funds to make frivolous purchases of music online, but I have to be. There is no expectation that I own this music. Why is it that now, in this day and age of progress, I seem to have have less rights than I did three years ago?

I know that terrorism cannot be made the scapegoat of this foray into my personal life. So, as a consumer or music, my rights have been infringed at the expense of the rights of the content managers (note that I did not say the artists). My arguments place me well within the camp of users that are philosophically opposed to DRM (a camp that, with knowledge, I suspect would be a vast majority of people blessed enough to purchase music). So, what is the solution for the industry?

The content industries fear technological change more than anything else, despite the fact that it is these companies who have seen profits soar because of these very same technologies. Even with this fact, the content industries fear change.  The movie industries feared the video tape; the recording industry feared the audio tape.  These are industries in which every aspect of the performance must be controlled by the industry, from planning to creation to production to marketing and finally to experiencing.  The loss of any one of these arenas is threat to continued profits.  Amazingly, these companies have longer memories than our own governments, by using technology such as DRM to regain control lost to earlier forms of content ownership. They sweeten the medicine bay saying that it is to stop piracy, as if all customers are pirates of media.  I can think of no other arena in which the customer, consumer, or client is treated with such disdain, and I work in IT. These changes have happened slowly, so that the user is for the most part ignorant of it.

When I put a newly purchased DVD into my laptop, a number of things happen before I am allowed to view it. One such thing is a check to see if I am allowed to play this DVD, by way of a mechanism called a region code.  It is by this mechanism that i am unable to play DVDs legally purchased in the UK (I am a citizen of the United States) and am forced to find other methods to access content that I have purchased (in this case, either downloading an “illegal” copy of material I own or committing a felony in order to circumvent these controls).  FairPlay DRM is, as usual, “good enough” for most people. In fact, it is slightly more open than systems put in place by competitors.

That shouldn’t be an endorsement, however. The lock-downs that exist serve no purpose beyond controlling the experience of listening to music. The claim that it stems wholesale illegal piracy is laughable, as Mr. Jobs has stated. I challenge an executive of the recording industry to consider another path, one that will ultimately help your organization more than DRM both in gathering goodwill and by locating those who operate outside the bounds of law.

Add a digital fingerprint to every song purchased from any online store. Use this data to track a song through piracy sites, and if you find a song purchased from this future iTunes, go back to Apple and request the information of the person responsible for purchasing the song in the first place. In this future, unlike the current “well, we are pretty sure it was Mr. Smith,” you have irrefutable evidence as to who illegally distributed your copyrighted works and are able to charge him or her accordingly. This way, you stop charging elderly people who don’t even own computers with electronic copyright infringement and start charging the people actually responsible. In fact (as proven by the success of iTunes), I think you would find that this system would (slightly) help in stemming theft of music and ultimately help your bottom line.

You just need to let go of your control of my eardrums. I do actually own them, not you.