Showing restraint

Something that became extremely apparent to me last year when I explored therapy was the sheer physicality of the process of self control. When I find myself sliding I need to do physical things to arrest it, including:

  • Making sure I get out, if I’ve been inside too long;
  • Doing deep breathing exercises;
  • Withdrawing and taking the time to be reflective.

Yet, it doesn’t just stop there; it’s also equally true that being tired, or in pain (or both) will have consequences when it comes to my mood. This has been abundantly clear to me over the past 48+ hours. I usually have sinus issues when flying, typically resolved by taking anti-inflammatories about an hour before the descent (it’s the pressure change on descent that does it to me), but this time, travelling on top of having a cold at the time, it’s like it ended up triggering a sinus infection. For two days now my vision has been slightly blurred out of my left eye except when anti-inflammatories at their peak, I’m perpetually feeling tired, there’s a continuous ache in the left side of my forehead, and both flights I took resulted in that near scream inducing feeling of an invisible sadist driving white hot needles into my skull.

Net result is that I’ve not slept well and I’m walking around with a constant bugger of a headache.

But that’s the easy half of it. Emotionally, it’s draining. That sort of tiredness leaves me feeling on the wrong side of melancholy, and that sort of pain leaves me constantly on the edge of snapping and snarling.

I made a conscious decision during therapy that one approach I’d try to take was that if I were feeling tired, I’d constantly remind myself of that and remind myself to shelve any complex emotional decisions that loomed. When I’m in that state, I’m practically non compos mentis for such decisions; if I let myself deal with them, the glass just isn’t half empty, but it’s sprung a leak, and my iPhone is sitting underneath it. It’s something I seem to be getting better and better at achieving, and in itself it’s a pretty rewarding process.

Keeping my temper on the leash when I’m in pain though involves a bit more effort. My anger management issues were actually anger over management – keeping things bottled up too long, refusing to accept they had any validity, then exploding. As much as anything, it was refusing to accept that it was sufficient to acknowledge an emotional cause of a mood even if it couldn’t logically be rationalised. This though boils down to classic anger management; getting angry just because you’re in pain may be an animal instinct, but it’s neither logically nor emotionally valid.

I will rise to the challenge.

 

Conformity

For those of you who don’t know me well enough yet, I’ll start this with a confession:

  1. I have no time whatsoever for Kylie Minogue;
  2. I can listen to maybe one or two Gaga songs before I need to put something better on;
  3. I might go 12 months between listening to Madonna tracks.

I have a huge breadth of music interest, ranging from classical and opera right through to Australian Hip Hop, rock, pop, indie folk music and new age world music.

The 3 gay divas? I honestly couldn’t give a damn.

Music to me is a classic example of where I butt my head against what I sometimes see as being an odd need for conformity, even in the GBLTI community. I remember reading, over a decade ago, a prominent DJ on the Sydney gay dance club scene in an interview express no small level of exasperation that there wasn’t enough exploration of music. He used the example of a mid-50s guy bursting into tears and running off because the DJ wouldn’t play the same Kylie song a third time in a row.

While I’ve spent most of my life being a wallflower and not getting involved, I’ve also had a completely stubborn streak all my life when it comes to deciding what I’ll like. I grew up in a house that made nominal head nods towards religion and was atheist by age 8. I grew up in a house that worshipped at the alter of sport and find it totally boring. I grew up in a largely conservative political household and I’m about as left-wing as you can get without being a communist.

Some would call me contrary, but that would just be trite.

Maybe this makes me an “anti-hipster”; I don’t mean being personally opposed to hipsters; but rather, why I do what I choose to do – not because it’s new and out there, and no-one else is doing it. Similarly, I’m not one to do something just because others are doing it. So if there’s a scale with hipster at one end and conformist in the middle, I’m at the anti-hipster point at the other end of the scale, not because I like being contrary but simply because I’ll do what I want to do. No needing to stick out, no needing to conform, just being.

Yet sometimes, I end up feeling a little like the woman in the yellow pashmina at the end of this Smack The Pony sketch. Watch it until the end, you’ll get what I mean:

(The above could be a completely normal day for me when it comes to music. The reds are Madonna lovers, the blues are Gaga, and there I am at the end apparently foolish enough to say “Actually I’d prefer Gin Wigmore”.)

Whenever a new meme or new “OMFG this is so damn awesome!” group cry comes out, you’ll usually find me hanging back and likely with a slightly suspicious look. I’m intensely wary of groupthink, and will always want my own time to form my own opinion. Invariably, if I’m not given that time, I’ll choose not to conform, instead of conforming. I have to decide, independently, whether it’s something that personally appeals to me, rather than jumping in because everyone else is.

Conformity can be useful at times because there can be a strength in a common purpose; but as the saying goes – as soon as you start dividing people into them and us, you become one of them. Or, as Mama Cass sang:

You gotta make your own kind of music

sing your own special song,

make your own kind of music even if nobody

else sings along.

So I think it’s important that we never lose that intrinsic joy that can be found from forging our own paths. Of quietly doing a bear shuffle to a song no-one else likes, or smiling at a joke that no-one else gets, or liking a song or movie not because it’s really good, but because it’s actually really bad, knowing you can take joy from the most unexpected of sources.

 

I got a massively destructive email this morning:

Spam

How would I like unlimited hits to my website?

Well, Mr Spammer, I wouldn’t.

You see, unlimited hits would imply an infinite number of hits, which in term would imply an infinitely large server farm to actually serve those hits, which would likely collapse under the weight of its own gravity to form a supermassive black hole which would completely destroy the entire multiverse.

Much as I like hits on my website, I don’t want to be responsible for the destruction of existence itself.

So no, I might give that one a miss, thanks.

 

Me: “Oh, and supper was sandwiches, like I expected. Four little triangles.”

Darren: “Were they sandwiches of indeterminate content?”

And so began Darren and my conversation about the sleep study I had this week.

I’ve known I’ve had sleep apnoea for years, and of course, I’ve done the dumb man-thing for ages and left it untreated. The symptoms are pretty obvious – I’ve always been a terribly loud snorer, but I usually wake up groggy and barely able to function, hit particular times of the day when I’m completely exhausted, frequently wake up with my chest dripping in sweat, and fight the tiredness daily with high amounts of caffeine. And on those nights where we do sleep together, Darren has at times been acutely aware of times when I’ve stopped breathing.

So many people though think of sleep as a gentle, caressing lover. I honestly think part of what delayed me doing anything about my sleep apnoea was that I’ve always seen sleep as a foe – something to be battled against. Part of that was nightmare based, of course, as I’ve written about in the past, but I was always a reluctant sleeper, even as a kid. I used to be put down to go to sleep as a baby/young child, and I’d apparently scream myself to sleep every night. My parents still insist that the first time I had an uninterrupted night of sleep it was when I was around 7, and they woke up in the wee hours of the morning needing to check because they were panicked I may have been dead.

You couldn’t say that I’d been apprehensive about the study though. Well, I wasn’t until I got the letter explaining the process, and I saw this section:

Sleep study details

“My beard! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” was my first reaction. I’ve now had facial hair of some variety since around 1994, and my face has not been completely bare since 1998 (there was an unfortunate situation with electric clippers being used before being fully awake, once). Even more though, I’ve now been growing the goatee part of my beard for some time, and I wasn’t willing to trim or get rid of that just for a damn sleep study:

Long beard

To be sure, there are people out there with much longer beards than I – but since I’ve got every intent of going at least twice if not three times as long as it currently is, and I wasn’t going to let a sleep study set me back six months.

The process, as you might imagine, is actually fairly straight forward. You turn up in the evening, get settled, and then you get covered in sensors. Between my head, my shoulders and my legs, there were probably twenty or so sensors all glued on. Once these were all attached to the recording device, and the recording device unplugged so I could move about until I was sleepy, I was like some proto Bear Borg:

Bear Borg

Resistance is futile. You will be discombobulated.

Of course, there was the preliminary questionnaire. The funny question for me was “have you had any coffee today, and how much?” I felt the need to qualify “(this is the quite normal for me)” when I answered “eight Greek coffees” (that seemed easier than explaining “four double Greeks”), but the rest of the questions were to be expected: do I unexpectedly nap? do I feel tired all throughout the day? etc.

The room was setup fairly well, all things considered, being at a private clinic. There was a desk and I could use my laptop until I was ready for bed, so in a lot of senses it was like a hotel room. All the documentation basically said “do what you’d normally do in a hotel room”, but of course since it was still at a hospital and there were cameras in the room, I thought it was probably best to ignore their advice and stay away from Scruff.

Once all the sensors had been attached, they got me to try out four or five CPAP masks – the intent was to do a combined study; they’d monitor until I had one or more sleep apnoea events, then come in and attach a CPAP to me and then monitor and measure how I worked with that. Surprisingly, the masks were quite comfortable, despite having to be attached extra tight due to the facial hair, but thankfully the mask goes just over the nose, rather than the nose and mouth, so this made it pretty straight forward. Despite all those sensors, each time I had a new mask put on and invited to lay down for five minutes I found myself nodding off. If anything, not getting to bed until 4am on Sunday morning may have been quite helpful on that front.

Finally though it was time for “sleep”. I was tired enough that I was willing to lay down, and after my monitoring equipment was turned on, the lights were turned off and I was invited to nod off.

In such situations as that though, as you could well imagine, it’s not really all that comfortable a sleep. For one, I’m used to sleeping alone in a king size bed. Coming down to a single bed (or maybe an oversize single bed) is enough of an odd change in itself. I’d also had some neuromuscular work done on my right arm on Saturday, and I’m still coming down from the lingering discomfort from that. But more so than anything else, all those sensors and wires attached to me, and then subsequently attached to devices on the wall, meant there was only a minimal freedom of movement. I could lay on my back, or I could lay on my left side. Since my left side has been problematic to lay on since a stomach hernia repair in 2007, I think I managed to roll over onto my side about 3 times for maybe 5 minutes apiece each.

Being woken up at 1.30am by a woman wanting to put a mask on me however was certainly a different experience to me.

I’ve got to say, despite all my reservations, I found the actual CPAP mask only a minor inconvenience compared to the actual sensors all over me. It had to be tightened a couple of times in the night – the side effect of having lots of facial hair was needing a closer fit so that as the pressure was increased there wouldn’t be constant air leakage. But surprisingly, each time that happened, I experienced maybe 20 seconds of discomfort before I was used to and fine with the constriction of the bands holding the mask in place.

And so at 5am I woke up, paged the overnight technician and began the laborious process of getting all the sensors removed. There was slight surprise that I didn’t sleep longer – but that resenting of sleep isn’t going to change just because I get the right amount of oxygen overnight, I suspect.

Despite steering away from the process for years, as a one-off situation it was, I have to say, pretty easy going. I was pleased to find out as the sensors were being removed that I most definitely had sleep apnoea; I know that might sound odd, to be pleased about that, but it at least meant that I’d been right – that was the problem, and confirming it meant that the process of fixing it is also now underway.

Oh, and the sandwich triangles did have determinate content, but I’m glad there were only four of them.

 

I started using a naked app last week on my iPhone. No, I’m not talking about some new variant on Scruff or Grindr, but an app that is completely naked in terms of UI controls. There’s no buttons, checkboxes, menus or sliders. The entire interface is gesture driven, and should be applauded in terms of looking at a touch screen interface as a mechanism of breaking away from old UI habits.

TODO list apps (otherwise known as GTDs – Getting Things Done) have been a dime a dozen on the App Store – input a set of tasks, mark them off as you’re done. Sometimes that’s as simple as they get, and other times they’re significantly more complex, akin to a primitive version of project management software, having subtasks, due dates, etc.

Yet, much as I always set out to use a TODO app with good intentions, they always last just a few weeks before I give up on them.

Over the last week I’ve been trying out a new style of TODO app though, Clear, and it’s making me re-evaluate why I fail at TODO apps over time. One possible explanation is they’re fiddly. When I want to jot a TODO item I want to do it really quickly. If I’m waiting for the app to launch, then need to click a button, enter text, click “Done” or some other input-complete button, there’s sometimes seemingly as much time spent on meta activities as there is on the actual input.

Clear’s innovative interface process is completely gestural, ditching all buttons, etc., in favour of:

  • Pinching in to collapse interface areas back to their parent menu;
  • Swiping to complete or delete tasks, or to switch between sections of the program;
  • Pulling up, down, pinching out to create new tasks in specific locations;
  • Dragging tasks to position them, assigning priority.

All of that may sound a bit odd, so here’s some examples:

 

Pinching apart to create a new task list

The above shows the “Category list” – TODO items are lumped into different categories; in the example above, I’ve got 3 existing categories, “Blogging”, “Personal” and “Work”. Having pinched apart I get a new category list which I can name, thusly:

New category list

Tapping on a category list goes into the list, and from there you can start adding items. Since it’s the first item, you can either drag up or drag down:

 

Drag down to create a new task

Once you’ve got a couple of tasks, you can equally start to use the pinch-out gesture to create new TODO items in between those existing tasks:

Pinching apart to create a new task

When tasks are complete, you can swipe left-to-right against the task to mark it complete:

Swipe left to close a task

Alternately, if you’re not going to complete the task and want it gone, swipe right-to-left against it to flag it for deletion:

Swipe to delete a task

When you’ve gone manipulating a list of tasks and you want to return to the task categories, you can pinch the entire list to collapse it:

Collapsing a task list

Demonstrating a gestural interface via screenshots is of course problematic at best. There’s a demo on the Realmac Software homepage, which you really should watch – check it out here.

One of the things I’m already appreciating about Clear, outside of the gestural interface, is the contextual badges for the icon. This is optional, but worth using; if you close Clear when you’re at the category list, the App icon badge will reflect all outstanding tasks. If you’re in a task list, the contextual icon badge will reflect just the number of outstanding tasks in that list.

Whether I stick with this application or not is yet to be determined – I’m still within that grace period of the first two weeks where I’m keen to keep myself organised. However, this is truly a fascinating approach – a naked app, graceful and without conventional UI controls that we’ve grown accustomed to over the last 20+ years of computing. Proof that interfaces can still evolve.

What’s missing?

Pretty much every list app I’ve used has had some form of reminder interface. I recognise getting this built into a gestural interface may be a challenge, and while for some people it may be a “killer feature” that’s required, I struggle to think of how it could be done gesturally. (Then again, I probably couldn’t have imagined Clear at all to start with.)

So, I recognise it would be dangerous to add it in – that this may very well rob Clear of the simplistic elegance it currently has. I’ll also note something – whenever I use TODO style apps and set reminders, those reminders end up annoying the hell out of me. Maybe that’s why I end up dropping those apps; like Eddie in ab-fab throwing her digital diary out the window when it gives one too many annoying alarms, it could very well be that my tolerance for chirping reminders about tasks at seemingly inappropriate times every time is just such an irksome process that it actually degrades the experience.

So I hesitate to say that it’s a missing feature, because I’m enjoying the “no pressure” nature of it. I can’t specify due dates and/or times for tasks, so I can’t resent it triggering reminders, or worrying about exactly when I should flag an item as being done.

How would I rate it?

4.5 out of 5. This has significant merit and will likely trigger a wave of similar behaving apps, both in this space and in other spaces – but Clear most certainly deserves credit for getting the ball rolling.

 

A while ago, Bob Katter, Australia’s answer to Michele Bachmann, launched his own political party, “Katter’s Australian Party”. (Actually, it’s the second time he tried to launch it; the first time the registration was cocked up and it had to be done again.)

Yesterday, with much press attention, Bob Katter launched his “katmobile”; a ridiculous double decker bus that’ll make its way through Queensland to:

spruik its message of building local infrastructure while protecting local jobs and state owned assets.

That’s from “Holy Massive Akubras! Bob Katter’s got a big red double-decker Katmobile!“, on “Adelaide Now” (2011-02-11).

I’ve grabbed the photo of his bus from that article, because I needed to point out something about it:

The Katter Bus

Have a close look at the circled section, and in particular the words pointed to by the arrows; in particular:

  • Katter’s Australian Party
  • Save our state

The words used in slogans and logos are without a doubt meant to portray the core, foundation message, and so we should focus on them and see what they’re really saying. In this case, it’s clearly saying that Katter may be all talk about “Australia”, but in reality he’s still very provincial in his thinking and focused almost exclusively on Queensland.

Given the intense media coverage of his launch, did any media pick up on the irony of this double-talk?

Katter is from Queensland – and like any part of Australia, Queensland deserves equal attention. Yet I read this message as a slap in the face to the rest of Australia – the only Australians worth worrying about live in Queensland, Katter seems to be saying.

If you see the dissonance between the party name and the message on the side of the bus, and still think he’s got the best interests of all Australians at heart, you must be reading something different than I.

 

Apple Family

A few days ago a University buddy asked me if I’d mind blogging about the factors that led me to the point of being such a strong Apple enthusiast. I’d like, from the outset, to clarify that I’m not a fanboy. I’m a technologist; indeed, frequently those who lump me into the “fanboy” category usually end up being fanboys themselves of some other product or vendor.

I’ve been using computers for a very long time. My first computer was a Vic-20, and even back then I started programming. I was intent on writing a database to keep track of names and facial features of people I knew: I was always terrible with names, and since my childhood dream was to become a mad scientist, I clearly needed a way of keeping track of my minions and peons.

The Vic-20 was replaced by a Commodore 64, which in turn was replaced by my first PC. Each computer I’ve owned became an exercise in power and long-term viability; the Vic-20 got a 19KB RAM expansion unit; the C64 got 2 floppy drives and a 512KB RAM expansion unit. The first PC came with a whopping 40MB hard drive and I skipped over 5 1/4 inch floppies, getting it just with a 3 1/2 inch drive instead.

At high school I had a fairly strong exposure to Apple – the Apple IIe was the primary educational computer then, and we had about 12 or 16 of them, with a IIc added to them over time. Somewhere along the line a IIgs arrived, and I certainly fell in love with that beastie. Towards the end of high school, we had a bunch of Macs as well; checking through apple-history I’m fairly certain they were SEs, without the hard drive.

By the time I got to University, I was already programming heavily in Pascal. I’d started with G Pascal while still on the Commodore 64, and already had Turbo Pascal before I got to Uni on my PC.

I was, by all definitions of the word, a geek. My first PC was just a 286, and so for the first year of Uni I was limited to Windows. I managed to buy a friend’s 386 though sometime in second year University; by that stage I’d discovered Unix and fell in love with it; by second year Uni I was living in a granny flat that had more of a studio arrangement, and I distinctly remember regularly going to sleep listening to a hard drive whirring and lights flashing as my Linux workstation took the 6+ hours to recompile the kernel.

Other than a bit of programming work in it, that was the point where I pretty much ditched Windows. By the time I graduated and bought my first Pentium class PC, I had a Windows/Linux dual boot arrangement that saw me boot into Windows 95 about once every 6 months.

I had become a Linux fanboy.

The ironic thing of course was that I was rapidly heading towards meeting Darren, circa October 1996, and he used what by that stage was a completely foreign operating system to me – a toy operating system: Mac OS.

By the time I met Darren, Apple had either finished the acquisition of or were well and truly along the way of acquiring NeXT, and with it, Steve Jobs. I remember our first morning together having coffee on the balcony and me expressing incredulity that someone otherwise so intelligent and technically savvy would be so passionate about and defensive of Apple. Mac OS, I practically sneered, was a toy operating system that didn’t even have command line functionality, and therefore was pointless for any sort of “power use” scenario.

Somehow we survived that gulf, probably from a mutual decision to not press each others’ buttons on it too much. I continued down the PC running Linux path for the first several years of our relationship, and he kept on going with the Mac.

By the time Mac OS X was introduced, I’d used Darren’s various computers enough that I had a passing familiarity of but still largely contemptuous opinion of the interface.

Things started to change with OS X – not in terms of me immediately jumping across, but definitely getting more interested. A full Unix back end to the operating system suddenly made it, in my not so humble opinion at the time, capable of being a ‘real’ operating system.

I didn’t convert until sometime after the introduction of Mac OS X 10.4 – Tiger, and ultimately my conversion was based on 2 reasons, being:

  • Interoperability
  • Best of Both Worlds

Once I jumped across, those 2 key reasons were joined by another:

  • Efficiency

Interoperability was the initial driving force. By the time I transitioned, USB was rapidly becoming the de facto standard for device connectivity (thanks of course, to Apple), and to be perfectly blunt, Linux sucked at handling USB. And for large values of “suck”. At that point I was still quite a strong Palm user, and naturally one of the things I liked being able to do with to Sync my Palm with my desktop. I’d previously been able to do that without issue when Palm was still interfacing via serial connectors, but the latest Palms with USB connectivity seemed a nightmare under Linux. It was a perpetual game of chasing my own tail – I’d plug the Palm into USB Port 1, and the sync software would seemingly detect Port 1 was busy, so it would try to sync against Port 2. Swap, and the sync software would reverse. There was, without a doubt, very special magic required to sync a USB Palm Pilot to a Linux desktop in the early days – and despite four years of University and a desire to work from the command line, it escaped me.

Printers, too, were a nightmare. Unix printing in fact generally was until CUPS came along, but while CUPS gave some relief from the nightmare of Unix printing, it was about as friendly to interact with as a scratch to the scrotum from a rabies infected monkey would be. And I wasn’t alone in my view on this – Eric Raymond, open source placard bearer, found it a nightmare to work with himself, writing this famous attack on it here. Indeed, Eric’s final 6 questions to Linux hacker/developers are, to me, the core of what was wrong with Linux when I decided to leave it:

  1. What does my software look like to a non-technical user who has never seen it before?
  2. Is there any screen in my GUI that is a dead end, without giving guidance further into the system?
  3. The requirement that end-users read documentation is a sign of UI design failure. Is my UI design a failure?
  4. For technical tasks that do require documentation, do they fail to mention critical defaults?
  5. Does my project welcome and respond to usability feedback from non-expert users?
  6. And, most importantly of all…do I allow my users the precious luxury of ignorance?

Those questions are reflective of a problem that still remains with Linux. It is still, so often, written from a hacker mentality point of view. Oh, I know that these days the majority of contributions to the source and the surrounding packages come from some form of commercial entity, but even the people involved in those entities for the most part have that core-geek view of slotting in every possible option except an easy to use interface.

Interoperability didn’t just come in terms of hardware though, it also applied at the software level. Multimedia was a big bug-bear for me by this stage. Every time I changed distribution or upgraded the distribution I was using, I’d have to go through the tedious process of recompiling my kernel to support my sound card. I’d have to work through all the magical mystical options to get DVD playing working, and I’d have to hope like hell that all the planets were in alignment if I wanted to burn a CD. If I wanted to play a multimedia file, I could usually kiss my arse – while there were some player options available, the gap between when a new media format was released and when it would be supported was often huge, and highly dependent on whether or not the format could be successfully reverse engineered.

I should note – I was in an engineering role, at a highly technical-focused company, and all technical staff were running Linux. I was literally being exposed to it for sometimes up to 20 hours a day without fail, and it was still getting the better of me.

By this stage I’d been commuting for a few years, and my way for the most part in dealing with commuting was music. I started with commercial CDs, but carrying a pack of every possible CD I might want to listen to became cumbersome, so I’d transitioned to having a generous amount of my music in MP3 format on my laptop. However, laptop batteries back in those days weren’t really all that great, and nor was laptop CPU performance, so playing music the entire way through a 1.5 hour commute (if not longer – this was NSW Cityrail, after all!) could be a real pain. So having started with some cheap and nasty Creative device, by the time the iPod came out, I was convinced I wanted and needed it. The only problem, of course, was that it connected via Firewire; the easiest solution to transfer music onto it was to periodically plug it into Darren’s Mac. While there were some Linux based iPod management options, these were mostly developed around the notion of hacking the iPod, and after using it only for a few hours there was no chance in hell I was going to replace its operating system with something else. Of course, Linux support for Firewire was also very poor, which didn’t help.

In 2005 though, a new iPod came out, which supported the dock, and by virtue of that, a USB connector rather than a Firewire connector. “Great”, I thought, “Finally an iPod that I’ll be able to seamlessly sync under Linux”.

What.

A.

Joke.

Linux handled the USB connected iPod about as well as it handled the Palm, and this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

I was, to be perfectly frank, at a point in my life where I was tired of needing to be thinking like a full computer scientist and programmer every time I wanted to use my computer, or needing to “hack” any consumer device I wanted to attach to it to make it “better”. So one bright Saturday afternoon with an iPod I still couldn’t use against my own computer, I slammed my head against the wall for the last time in frustration, roared “Enough is enough!” and decided to switch.

There was only one direction to go, of course. Windows was a steaming pile of virus riddled shit, with XP at the height of its popularity. It was buggy as all hell, despite all of Microsoft’s promises as to its stability, and the command line in it was out of the stone age. On the other hand, Mac OS X offered the best of both worlds – a full GUI with excellent compatibility and interoperability, and a powerful Unix back-end that would let me drop to the shell and work as quickly as I wanted to as well.

So I bought a 17″ eMac with a 1.25GHz PPC G4 CPU, 512MB of RAM and an 80GB hard drive. It got quickly upgraded to 1GB of RAM (the maximum for the eMac), but within a few hours of bringing it home I was already somewhat in awe and changing my opinion on the Mac. Of course, part of that came from the “new toy syndrome” that plagues most geeks – give us anything new and different and we’ll usually be all over it like a flash. Due to the similarities though in file format, I was pretty impressed at being able to just copy my mail folders across from my Linux machine to the eMac and importing the mail. 4+GB of email that I’d accumulated over 8 or so years imported with minimum fuss, leaving me feeling pretty satisfied at the switching almost right from the start.

To be sure, there were some things that bugged me; the last time I’d used any Apple computer with any regularity was during high school, so there was the standard interface learning curve, and having been used to being able to assign so many keyboard shortcuts and use multi-button mice, the invocation of contextual menus and bigger need to use the menu bar took a while getting used to. (These days, the ongoing enhancements made by Apple as well as my stronger knowledge of keyboard shortcuts means that I can readily launch an app without going near the dock, do what I need to get done, and quit, all without having gone near the menu.)

One day, a couple of months into my switch, whilst still using Linux on a daily basis on my work laptop, I had an epiphany. Because of the interoperability, and because of the best of both worlds, and because of the human/user interface design principles of the operating system, I was having a very different user experience on the Mac as I was having on Linux:

  • I was efficient on Mac OS X, and
  • I was full of creative inertia on Linux.

Whenever I sat in front of my Mac desktop, I got things done. The operating system really was like a butler – it was there to help you when you needed it, but as much as possible stayed out of your way. (That comparison by the way comes from this Network Computing article from 2007, which compared Mac OS X to Windows Vista. To be fair, any comparison between OS X and Linux at the time would have been even more one-sided.)

Every time I tried to use Linux for anything productive (at least, outside of genuine work tasks), I’d find myself endlessly tweaking and optimising. I was busy, without being productive. I’d start things and not finish them. I’d get easily distracted, I’d fall into old habits and mistake busyness with productivity. We often equate the two terms to meaning the same thing, but they can be so far apart that they don’t even overlap, were to you draw them as a Venn diagram.

(It took me a while after that, but I should note that I’ve subsequently come to terms with (and this is why I now call myself a technologist) the fact that just because I’m more efficient on Mac OS X, doesn’t mean that the same will apply to everyone. Disregarding Linux as a desktop environment and comparing directly to Windows, it’s patently clear that Windows and Mac OS X have radically different user experiences and processes, yet some people are very productive on Windows too.)

Over time it’s become apparent to me that Apple grasped a couple of fundamental aspects to computing (regardless of whether it’s desktop, portable or mobile) that all the other computer companies failed to get. In fact, that most of them continue to fail to get:

  1. The real core target market for computers and computing devices are consumers, not workers and most certainly not technical users.
  2. The entire history of humankind is littered with the premise that while technology becomes more complex, our interaction becomes simpler.

This is something I’ve written about before – and rather than rehash the argument, I’ll link to it here.

I still have a keen interest in computing. I may not approach it from a rigorous math background like so many Universities focus on, but I am a computer scientist, and the theoretical nature of this industry fascinates and excites me like few other things on the planet do. The net has become like a sixth sense to me; I feel like I’m missing a limb when I’m without it, and despite what some people think, this is the future: highly connected people able to access information in the blink of an eye and communicate with not only the people around them, but people anywhere else on the planet. It will be, without a doubt, a singularity in and of itself, regardless of whether a machine-sentience singularity is reached or not.

But regardless of where my interests lay, what I’m most certain about is that computers are no longer an end in themselves for me; they’re a means to an end. That end may be some productive task, or it may be communicating, or it may be, as I’ve recently rediscovered, playing a game. Just as I don’t go out into the kitchen to idly fiddle around with a toaster, I don’t sit down at a computer to idly fiddle around with it. I sit down to use it. And the user in me – the consumer wants something that just works.

For me, that’s Apple.

 

Alan Turing was one of the founding greats of computer science. He postulated concepts which are still in use today, and in fact in many circles is seen as the father of computer science.

He was also gay.

Sure, one might argue that if he had not been present, there might have been others to take his place. However, the British government (and indeed, the free Western World) should fully acknowledge that at that time and place, it was Alan Turing who was there. The war efforts were in no small part saved by a homosexual who headed the decryption team for German ciphers, and who saw those ciphers cracked.

That in 1952 he was prosecuted and found guilty for the ‘crime’ of being a homosexual, and had the ‘treatment’ of female hormones was an anachronistic tragedy; his subsequent suicide was a loss to the development of computer science. Like one might idly speculate where the world might be, from a technology perspective, had the dark ages not happened, one might equally wonder where computer science might have advanced to by now if this giant had not been taken from us; his suicide in 1954 by cyanide ingestion was a result of the severe depression he experienced not only on the hormone ‘treatment’ but also the public ridicule he experienced at the time.

In 2009 Gordon Brown offered a public apology from the British government for the treatment Turing received, and a campaign was started to grant him a posthumous pardon. That pardon may seem irrelevant, but it would be an acknowledgement that despite being legally acceptable at the time, the treatment of gays in that era was unacceptable from modern standards.

And the British House of Lords has denied that pardon.

This is a shameful act and sends entirely the wrong message – that we shouldn’t have to face our past on the basis of modern views of morality. Nothing could be further from the truth.

The world owes Alan Turing, and all the people still being persecuted for being same-sex attracted, this much at least.

 

It’s fair to say I’ve been in a grumpy mood for most of today.

I rarely remember my dreams, and last night was generally no different – by the time I awoke I had no recollection of what had gone on in them, except in my dreams I’d been arguing with people for what seemed like hours.

I woke up in a foul mood practically itching for an argument.

Normally that would have sent me running to the internet to find something to vent my frustration on. An overly sanctimonious religious person, a homophobe, a right wing anti-people person or some new ager would have been normally fair and square in my sights today.

Up until a short while ago, I hadn’t really thought about why I didn’t. Instead, I posted the above picture to Facebook with a tag, “I’m doing my best to STFU today”.

I spent a reasonable percentage of my spare time today reflecting on some of the things that have really got under my skin lately. And so instead of going on a rant about any of them, I’m going to ask a few questions instead:

  1. Homeless people: What drives people to mock them? Some people who do it are just self-absorbed jerks, but others are people who I genuinely care about; they’re real friends, but they choose to make outrageous jokes about homeless people. I can only hope that it’s a defence mechanism – that if they don’t make a joke about it they’d cry.
  2. Reality TV Celebrities: I don’t get them. By and large, they’re narcissistic vapid fools famous for being famous. Do people watch them because they’re envious of their wealth? Of their popularity? Or is it for the road-crash value? That they want to feel morally superior to people who don’t exhibit one iota of decency? Or because it’s the simple case that everything else on TV is crap and it’s the best of a bad pick?
  3. Reality TV Weight-loss Shows. For the most part, a person’s struggle with weight is an intensely private and frustrating situation. What drives people to go onto these shows in the first place, but more so, what drives people to watch them? Maybe I’m being a cynic (yet it was recently made painfully clear to me on Facebook that I’m actually an optimist), but it strikes me that the primary motivation factor of anyone to watch this is at best the sheer road-crash horror of it, and at worse, hoping that at some point someone will collapse, there’ll be that sad instrumental music playing and a gentle female narrator explaining how the contestant was rushed to hospital but died. Or is the primary demographic of this show thin people who can “tsk tsk” about fat people who have no self control, perhaps never appreciating that the issue is so much more complex than that?

Maybe some of those questions could be read as an accusation, but I’m genuinely wanting to know the motivation behind them. I want to apply Hanlon’s Razor until Occam’s Razor demands otherwise, and that means I need to listen.

I’m over my grumpy mood, and I’d like to better understand.

 

Stop Sign

I do my best to be a tolerant sort of person; over the years I’ve focused on eliminating impatience as much as possible.

But one thing that still escapes me is dealing with people who stop in inappropriate places. We’ve all had it happen to us, right? You’re on an escalator and the person in front of you steps off the damn walkway … and stops. The escalator is pushing you into them, you’ve got no-where to go, and they’re just standing there, blissfully ignorant of the impending crash.

Or the person in front of you walks through the barriers at the supermarket with their trolley and stops as soon as they’re in, so that they can look around and plot where they’re going and what they’re doing.

Or the two friends bump into each other in a crowded aisle, rotate their trolleys half sideways and start having a good old natter, completely ignoring people trying to get past them.

And what about the people who get on the train, into a practically empty vestibule, and stand at the doorway, making it almost impossible to get in or out?

Or the people who people who walk 5 abreast down a busy sidewalk, strolling at a glacial pace, and almost seem to take a perverse delight in preventing anyone from being able to overtake them.

I know I should be understanding and assume they’re just absent minded, or distracted. But this afternoon at CostCo there was a guy driving into the entrance, who stopped 20 feet away from the barrier … then pulled his phone out and started texting. Blocking an entire entryway, cutting off traffic into the parking lot. More than a minute later when we’d parked and got out of the car, he was still there.

Again, I’d like to think they’re absent minded or distracted, but honestly, there reaches a point where you have to start to wonder – do some people go around with such a strong sense of entitlement that they actually just don’t give a shit? I’m not accusing them of being malicious, but in some instances surely they have to be in some way aware of their actions. A reasonable person would yield – but they don’t care. They just don’t care because their purpose must be greater than the purpose of others they’re blocking.

I’m tired of politely trying to step around these people. I’ll keep being polite, but it’s time to actually start saying “Excuse me: would you mind moving?” Not just a plain excuse-me-I’d-like-to-get-past-if-that-isn’t-going-to-inconvenience-you request, but an actual polite “I think you need to move – not just for me, but for everyone.”

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