johnbettsjr

Yesterday Apple released a number of updated products: an impressive new iMac, beefed up Mac Minis, updated MacBook and Airports, redesigned remote and the Magic Mouse.

At first blush, the Magic Mouse seems a fantastic new update. It continues the single-button concept prevalent in all Apple mice, while embracing the two-button functionality of Apple's former Mighty Mouse (now called simply the Apple Mouse). The Magic Mouse, however, has eschewed the Mighty Mouse's oft lamented scrolling ball for a touch-sensitive surface that finally brings Apple's gesture technology to all its computers.

The potential for gestures via the mouse is alluring, but in fact, offers little that is new. One can scroll (tho now with momentum) in any direction, including circularly. You can both right and left click. All these features were available on Apple's former mouse.

One new feature available via the Magic Mouse's gesture surface is swiping, the action most often seen on Apple's iPhone or iPod Touch to change pages. It's a nice trick, but I find I've never used it on my gesture-supported MacBook Pro trackpad, leading me to believe it'll have similarly limited use on a mouse. However, that I don't use it is not to say that others do not, and those who do will rejoice in the Magic Mouse.

Some gestures I don't see offered is pinching or rotating. This is likely because neither is easy with one hand, thus making it very unlikely to be used on a mouse. That's understandable. What I see as the Magic Mouse's biggest downfall is its missing, industry-standard features.

No Apple mouse has ever offered a wheel, and thus never offered wheel-clicking. Also, Apple's former mouse was the only that offered side buttons, but were so poorly implemented that they (really just one button replicated on both sides) were never used. These ubiquitous features are present in even the most rudimentary mice these days, making their continued absence on Apple's most sophisticated mouse to date both confusing and disappointing.

I can understand not providing these basic features mechanically. The Magic Mouse is, if nothing else, beautiful in its simplicity. But I had hoped to see these features supported in some way using gestures. They are not. If you like using more than two mouse buttons, you are out of luck with Apple's newest offering.

There will be, no doubt, any number of apologists who will argue why one shouldn't need more that two buttons, and thus shouldn't have them. Absurd. One might similarly argue for a car without seats. Sure, it'll get you were you want to go, but without the basic comforts you've come to expect.

Home electronics, including computers, are not about what you need. Those days are long gone. Today, technology is focused on what you want. And I want more than two mouse buttons.

Until Apple can offer a mouse that meets modern day expectations, they cannot hope to exceed them. Yes, gesture support is nice, but it's no replacement for the basic-functionality of commonly-used buttons. Untill then, I'll stick with just about any other mouse on the market.

A response to timcub's recent posting. If you cannot read it, it relates his encounter with a very vocal, public protestor of abortion, and some ruminations of his personal views on the subject.

When I was taking college writing classes, and we arrived at the argument and persuasion section, we were forbidden to ever write about abortion or the death penalty. These, stated the instructor, were a priori, not because they were assumed to be right or wrong, but because they had been argued to death for ages and a definitive judgment simply is not possible.

They also beg a similar question: where does human life begin and end?

I think the issue is not really defining exactly where human life begins. Let's be honest: that fetus is alive, and just because it can't live on its own doesn't make it inherently disposable. The real issue is determining its level of life. Is it equivalent to a bug? How about a pet? Or do we look years into the future and say it's a human right now?

If it's not human yet, then it can be treated as we would a plant, insect or animal. Plants and insects we can dispose of indiscriminately. Animals occupy—for many of us—a more elevated position, and thus are treated with greater respect. Even so, the penalty for abusing or killing and animal is far less than (it should be, I think) killing a human.

But, if we say that fetus is human (tho, in reality, it's less similar to a human child than it is the fetus of any animal anywhere) we must then treat it in the manner befitting all humans. But what manner is that? And just how do we divine its potential?

We regularly put to death criminals and opponents. It would not be difficult to argue either position in considering a woman’s fetus. Also, if we’re looking to the future to assume this fetus’ humanity, do we also have to make a guess as to what sort of human it’ll make? Will it be a meaningful member of society, or will it serve as an agent of destruction? We assume the prior, although the fact is that we cannot possibly know either. I think it’s fair to say tho, that if we knew the latter to be true, we’d abort well in advance.

There is one thing we do know about that potential human: that it will add to the Earth’s burgeoning population and consume. Considering we are, but all sane estimates, a few billion people in excess these days: what advantage does adding to that pool of consumers bring? Out of almost seven billion people, what value does a single, unborn, untested, unknown life have? All emotion aside, rationally: the likelihood is that that fetus will eventually consume more than it contributes to this world, and will in turn produce more consumers.

This simple analytical raindrop is nothing compared to the vast ocean of consideration that abortion (and the death penalty) has accrued over the ages of humankind. And yet there are masses of people who think they know the answer through nothing but intuition or because it’s been handed to them. You may think you know my opinion based on what I’ve written here, but you don’t, because even I don’t. Whenever I consider abortion, I have to admit that it’s a conundrum so much bigger than me. I don’t like the idea of abortion, but I cannot deny there are good, solid reasons for it to be. I will say, however, that for so long as this country refuses to outlaw the death penalty, I won’t support outlawing abortion. They’re really just different faces of the same coin.

In response to GearJock's post on the fallacy of wishing...

"Don't wish, don't start,
wishing only wounds the heart."

—Glinda/Elphaba, Wicked

I'm reminded of a study I read about some months ago that discussed the probable causes of massive cost overruns on public works projects. Every time a major new road or stadium or such is built, they almost always end up costing far more than they were originally quoted, regardless of schedule or economic environment. They study reached a (perhaps not so) shocking conclusion: people lie. Public officials purposefully lowball the estimates to gain public support, knowing the end cost will be—on average—50 to 100% more.

The other, just as interesting, conclusion of the report was in the analysis of why the intentional lowballing occurs. In fact, some of it was due to corruption, and some due to inflexible commitment. But, in the end, the biggest reason was that these projects simply had to happen, and if people knew the real cost up front, they wouldn't. In short, local politicians often lie to us for our own good, at least when spending on infrastructure is concerned.

My point? Only that hope is the lie that drives us forward. I look back on the first and only time I experienced a massive weight loss, about 100 pounds. I wonder how I did it now, and why I find it so hard to make even a smaller loss afterwards. The truth: I know what I'm getting into. I know how hard and annoying it'll be, so I can't commit to the full-on effort it requires. Hope and blind optimism is often the only mechanism that can push us far enough into a serious improvement campaign (self or otherwise) that by the time we realize what a massive pain in the ass it is, we find ourselves on the other side and close enough to the end that resolve and desperation can take us the rest of the way. Experience is often the hope-ender.

Wishing is the little brother of hope, the first step if you will. It's important and useful, but also a valuable check. We can't hold out real hope for everything we want to do in our lives, for crushed and lost hope is too devastating. So we save up our hope for those challenges we have the time or energy or money to undertake, and leave the other impossible tasks to the amusements of wishing.

I'm a fan of Scott Adams, and not just his Dilbert stip. His blog is usually a pretty fun read as well. Now, I don't think everything he says is golden. Frankly, he's posted things that are just nutty. But, more often, he posts some pretty clever insights. I found today's post on impending economic doom rather good.

The money quote...

"First, if you are American, and you believe the deficit means certain doom, you should cash in all of your investments and move into some sort of survivalist encampment, or to a country that has less of a budget problem. You don't want to pay your share of the $19 trillion. So if you aren't already packing to leave, maybe you are just saying you think the ballooning national debt is the end of us all, but you really think we'll figure a way out of it. This might be similar to saying you believe in Jesus but for some reason you refuse to give most of your money to the needy. There's a difference between real believing and whatever the heck the other thing is."

The truth is, I believe most people don't believe a fraction of what they say, they just like talk and yell and bitch. The problem is that the loudmouths of this world tend to shout over the real news, useful commentary and practical suggestions made by those with the intelligence and experience to make them. It's an unfortunate truth that volume wins out over logic in most cases.

I wish that any news story or commentary about the national deficit would also define the actual difference between "deficit" and "debit." The debit is how much we're in the hole, and the deficit is the rate at which that hole continues to grow. So, until the deficit reaches zero, or turns into a surplus, the debt will just get bigger.

I find it interesting that the deficit—in my lifetime—has only ever shrunk under the leadership of politicians most often billed as spend-a-holics, and grown enormously under those politician who tout themselves as prudent, economic conservatives. Weird, huh?

What a shocker: Organic food is no healthier, study finds.

Actually, not at all. Organics foods, especially the classification and labeling of, is unregulated, unsupervised, and unhelpful. What's more, winding back decades, in some cases a century or more, of agricultural progress in the name of "natural" food results primarily in infestations, deceases, and outrageous prices.

Actually, I'm all for organic meats, as it is often synonymous with healthier and more humane raising of livestock, but when it comes to plants—hand me the frankenfood.

I only recently read George Orwell's most famous novel, 1984. My timing was fortunate indeed, for more recently Amazon decided that—due to its own sloppy sales submission practices—it would pull that very ebook purchase off my Kindle.

I am, on the whole, extremely happy with my Kindle. It is stylish, extremely portable, durable, long-lasting, expansive, and easy to use. It relieves me from having to carry a back-breaking and sometimes prohibited volume of books with me when I travel. I can at a moment's notice purchase just about any book I want, from anywhere civilized, and have it ready to read in a matter or seconds. I am a fan.

However, it is unsettling to have a company retract an electronic purchase just because it can. Had I purchased a physical copy of 1984, Amazon would not have arrived at my home, refund in hand, and demanded the book back. Why is it appropriate to do so through electronic means? There are those who argue that it's totally appropriate to right wrongs in this fashion, liking it to returning stolen property. Ahem... I did not steal this book. I purchased it from a reputable dealer. Amazon sold me an illegitimate copy, and it is Amazon who should be paying the price, not me.

It is actions like this that realize the most salient fears held by the consumers of electronic merchandise: that we do not actually own that which we purchase. Companies and their apologists will argue endlessly that we really only purchase a license to use such works as music, movies and literature, even when the medium is physical. But if I'm sitting in my home listening to a CD, I posses it in a way I never can as pure digital media, because the distribution company at the other end (such as Apple or Amazon) still hold the switch to turn off the latter form.

If companies want consumers to purchase digital media will real money, they must convey real ownership, and treat those purchases with all the respect and restrictions that a physical sale would have. Every time a company shuts down their validation services (Microsoft) or yanks an electronic purchase (Amazon), it erodes consumer confidence in market. I know the next time I want to buy I book for my Kindle, I'll remember that one is missing right now, and wonder if this new one—or my entire library at that—is apt to follow. My Kindle and iPod are wonderful conveniences, but they have to be solid too. Neither are useful without reliable, dependable content. Amazon has reminded me how transient that content is right now.

I had a very strange moment Tuesday afternoon. I was waiting in line for the newest Potter flick with friends and someone brought up that it was nearing the 40th anniversary of Apollo 11. I immediately questioned this, saying that I remembered the 40th anniversary of Apollo 11 because I worked at NASA at the time. I even knew the woman who designed the logo for the event. At this point, my partner suggested that perhaps that was the 30th anniversary of Apollo 11. This simple realization left me stunned. Has it been nearly 10 years since I worked at NASA and lived in DC? It seems it was just a couple years ago, not nearly a decade. What happened to the years?

The truth is that I've done a lot in those years. While my life is quiet and settled these days, I've seen more places and met more people since I've moved to Seattle than in years before. I still look at my time in DC and Tallahassee quite fondly, but every move for me is a major life transition, and every ending a new beginning.

I am 40 now. I know there are fewer days ahead than there are behind. I don't feel particularly old. Fortunately, I don't look particularly old either. And lord knows I'm still childish in all the worst ways. But the analytical part of my mind knows the truth. And sometimes at night, when I'm in bed and before Morpheus comes to call, I feel real terror in my eventual oblivion. Fortunately, it's not a thought to dominates my waking moments. Not yet.

That, I suppose, will come in time.

I recently read Daemon by Daniel Suarez, and my overall appraisal is: eh.

A brief synopsis: Upon his death, a computer genius release a self-replicating, fully-automated, semi-intelligent computer "virus" on the world and consequently sows the seeds of society's destruction, amid predictable subterfuge, hacking, action and near-life technology and jargon.

I will confess up front that I prefer character-driven books. This is not to say that I'm "elitest" in my reading habits. Even "hack" writers like Stephen King know how to create a character you can care about, around whom the story can evolve. Unfortunately, Daemon lacks even one such character. The main character in this book is the daemon, a distributed, automated, and autonomous computer application who the author tries in vain to differentiate from a computer virus, seeing as they do much the same thing, just to different degrees.

Computer applications are difficult to form lasting, emotional bonds with, especially the bad ones.

There are actual people in Daemon as well. A lot of them. But, for the most part, they lack even as much personality as the software they're either fighting or assisting. If you ever read any novel written by Michael Crichton or Carl Sagan or their contemporaries, you've met these characters already, just under different names. There is the usual host of heroic experts, government spooks, Joe Lunchboxes, and insidious evil-doers. Yes, every story has good and bad guys. The good ones just don't use cartoon examples of them.

The technology in the book is touted as near-life, being close to real-life. Suarez goes to great lengths to drive this home by effusing each page with as much technical jargon as possible. Being technically savvy, I recognize the terms are real, as well as gratuitous. If you understand the jargon, you don't need to spelled out to you. If you don't, then you're already lost. Yes, it all sounds very impressive. It is, however, a common failure to convince your listener that you're believable by spinning their head around with fancy-sounding chatter.

While much of the technology in Daemon is close to real, it later suffers from a serious reality check. Speak to anyone who runs a sufficiently large network of anything—computers, offices, people—and they'll let you know just how unstable those systems can become the larger and quicker they grow. Any system as distributed and autonomous as the daemon in Suarez's novel will, well within the scope of this novel, fracture and collapse under its own size. Add in the human element the daemon makes use of—our own greed and selfishness—and the daemon simply breaks the boundaries of willing suspension of disbelief.

The novel also makes extensive use of GPS, virtual-to-real space mapping and automations at a level that only the completely oblivious can believe. If humanity had technology even approaching the level of accuracy and sophistication depicted in Daemon, none of us would ever touch a steering wheel again.

In the end, we are left with a novel that seems to be originally intended as a analytical daydream of near future technologies with a thin shell of cartoon characters and made-for-movie action sequences wrapped around it as an afterthought. While on a base level Daemon can be an entertaining read, if you need a novel with real characters you can care about, or that lives up to its claim of real world continuity, this is not it.

Equal rights activists in Washington state are trying an interesting new tactic. In short: they are using public disclosure laws to obtain the signatures from a petition to repeal Washington state's "everything but the name" gay marriage laws. They will then put those names into an online, searchable database.

There are those calling foul, saying this nothing but a scare tactic, an invasion of privacy and outright voter intimidation. Meanwhile, the supporters of this "outing" are arguing that it's really just a matter of making known to those who are actually affected by this retraction of rights those around them chose to make it so.

It is a not-as-rare-as-we-think instance of both sides being right. But is it still the right thing to do?

Personally, I would have little compunction making my entire voting history public. I don't vote in any manner in which I feel the need to hide. But I also understand we have privacy and voting rights in this country that are extraordinarily important.

However, these signatures are culled from public petitions to put a referendum on the ballot, not the referendum itself. A petition is, by design, an enthusiastic and open endorsement of some cause. Signing a petition is not a secret vote at all, but quite the opposite, and thus falls outside voting privacy guidelines.

Here's the real rub tho. Typically when we vote, there are repercussions. If we vote in the wrong guy or the wrong law, we all pay. I hold up our last protracted Administration as a wonderful example of what happens when people vote poorly. You end up with meaningless wars, a crippled economy and a tattered Constitution.

But when when everyone votes on laws that affect only a few, and those laws serve to curtail that minority's rights, there are no repercussions for the community-at-large*. Bob Bigot can vote away all the rights of Gary Gay and never worry about any consequences. In fact, Bob can look Gary right in the face and call him friend, and Gary will know no better. Worse, Gary could end up helping Bob in any number of ways all without ever knowing Bob had a hand in stripping away his rights.

That is the imbalance, I believe, that WhoSigned.com is seeking to re-level. While privacy and voting are essential American rights, so should be personal and social responsibility. You should not be able to strip away my rights in secrecy any more than a company should be able to secretly poison our food and profit from it. It's sneaky, underhanded and undeniably wrong.

The American ideal is that you pay for your actions, both good and bad. Let's get back to that.

* There are valid arguments that say any society that represses a minority does bear a social, oftentimes subtle, cost. But again, that cost is borne by all of that society—not just the majority—and thus the minority is made to unduly suffer again.

Why xkcd is one of my favorite online strips...

I've read a few articles about the recent Pew Forum poll correlating the type and enthusiasm for religious faith with the acceptance of torture. In short, the report finds that the more often one attends services, the more likely they are to condone torture. There are those who claim it's inaccurate, or unsurprising, or misguided, or misinterpreted, etc.

 

I'm not particularly surprised to find people of any particular faith to be less moral or peaceful than atheist or "uncommitted" believers. It seems to me that if you must be drilled weekly in what is moral and just, that you aren't apt to actually think about it. And if you're not thinking, you'll simply accept what ever is fed to you.

 

For me, the most surprising find of this report is that, at most, only 26% of Americans find torture unacceptable under any circumstances, and another 27% feel torture is rarely justified. At our best, only half of American have a problem with torture.

 

Really? Have we Americans become that complacent?

 

I hear people my age revile at their parent's generation being called the "greatest generation." They feel winning WWII is old news, and that's it's disingenuous to all other generations that followed. But, I'll give that generation this nod: they understood what torture is. They saw it in a way we never have. And even they can't compare with the people of Europe who experienced torture up close and personal. It was that generation who largely instituted our national and international anti-torture laws after the World Wars. The same laws our last American administration aggressively tried to avoid or dismantle. That's what America has become: the condoner of torture.

 

Lets make no mistake about just what torture is. In our hearts we know. And it's not something leading to permanent injury or death. Torture is the systematic use of pain and terror for any reason. Death and injury are usually to be avoided in torture as they lessen or end its use. They are the unfortunate side effects of torture, not its defining characteristics.

 

We Americans—by and large—have no idea what torture is. We are so removed from it that we glamorize it, a la "24," or marginalized it away. And when confronted with real torture on some abstract level, its easier to redefine it away then deal with it. The truth is, we've forgotten what torture really is. And when pain and terror become the exclusive suffering of another party, especially the faceless or foreign or hated, it becomes easy to accept.

 

The "greatest generation" had it right: torture is never, ever justified. Those who study torture will tell you that. It's unreliable and immoral. The "ticking time bomb" scenario is so remote and unrealistic that to justify torture for such a small edge case is not worth the cost. That small justification, that looophole, creates a crack in our moral code. And we humans are compelled to widen such cracks as much as possible. We always find a way to make that edge case cover whatever we need or want it to.

 

But we cannot allow ourselves any wiggle room in this instance, and no moral ambiguity.

 

Torture is not acceptable. Ever.

Oh my head! As a professional designer, I say to the creater of this (TSFW) : more wine, less coffee.

Oh, it all totally makes sense now...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zOfjkl-3SNE&feature=player_embedded

Why is it so challenging to interlink social networks? Anyone have a really good suggestion on how to create a more dynamic link between my LiveJournal and Facebook accounts? 

So, having been both Methodist and Catholic in the past, I'm pretty familiar with the whole Easter drama. But, now being Atheist, I'm left wondering what the point of it is. I mean, is it really easier and more efficient for God to set up and run the whole dog and pony show that is the betrayal, trial, torture, death, resurrection and ascension of his self/son, than just saying, "Hey humanity. No harm, no foul. You guys are off the hook for all those arbitrary sins I kept track of over the centuries, dontchaknow."

I mean, if you really believe in an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving god, pretty much all the teachings of the Bible become superfluous. If it's all-powerful, God can simply imbue us with the knowledge necessary to play the game by its rules. If God's really all-loving, it wouldn't taunt us with vague, inexplicable and capricious rules. The all-knowing bit is just beyond comprehension, considering the history of mankind.

The fact that God willingly and knowingly made us the way we are, with our absurd mental limitations and hodgepodge physiology, is akin to a mother drinking and smoking as hard as she can during pregnancy so that she can squeeze out a retarded child, who will never understand the basic rules of life and is forever hurting himself and everyone around him.

I know many men, far smarter than me, have already written vast volumes full of Möbius-strip reasoning to rectify the clear discontinuity between God's "all-everything" state and the imperfect, suffering state of man. They employ the most tortured logic to account for free will and the existence of evil. In the end though, the final answer a believer always offers is, "it's God's will," which translates directly to, "just because," and is similarly enlightening.

Consider a simpler answer: that there are no rules, because God either doesn't care or doesn't know (I won't offer "can't do anything about it," because—at its least—a god must be all-powerful), or doesn't exist. The final option really fits most neatly, but is the least comforting. It is, however, the option I've chosen. And it is a choice.

For those of you who have chosen other paths, I say to you this Easter holiday: all hail your zombie lord.

OMG OMG OMG!

Simon Pegg plays Scotty in the new Star Trek film!

I'm so in!

OMG!

Because everything's better as a cartoon. :)

"We are firmly convinced the exclusion of gay and lesbian people from the institution of civil marriage does not substantially further any important governmental objective. The legislature has excluded a historically disfavored class of persons from a supremely important civil institution without a constitutionally sufficient justification. There is no material fact, genuinely in dispute, that can affect this determination."
—Iowa Supreme Court

"I would say the mood is one of mourning right now in a lot of ways, and yet the first thing we did after internalizing the decision was to walk across the street and begin the process of lobbying our legislators to let the people of Iowa vote..."
—Bryan English, Iowa Family Policy Center

...to let the people of Iowa vote...

Indeed. It's worth remembering, however, that all social progress this country has ever seen has come not from the will of the People, but from the continued efforts of a small, dedicated group of idealistic individuals. While our right to vote is one of this coutry's most cherished and powerful rights, we must never forget that it can be used to inflict great harm. It's a painful truth, but sometimes the People are wrong.

I meant to post this when I first saw it, but nothing at all got in the way except my laziness...