Thursday, January 27, 2011

FaceBook vs. Twitter

I've been meaning to repost this for a while, because I thought it was quite clever and well put. Yves Lande, by way of Claude Baudoin, who kindly forwarded and translated:
We're on Facebook in order to lie to our closest friends, and on Twitter in order to say the truth to perfect strangers.
- Yves Lande, via Twitter
(Originally in French only: "On est sur Facebook pour mentir à ses amis les plus proches. Et sur Twitter pour dire la vérité à de parfaits inconnus.")

Sunday, January 23, 2011

High on My Stats

This is a small blog written with small expectations. I write it because I am an opinionated introvert, which means that I have more things to say than I have people to say them too. (More precisely, the ratio of opinions to listeners is so large that I could expect the denominator to shrink rapidly were I to share every little thing that crosses the transom of my mind.) The blog pleases me, and I hope it pleases those among my friends and family with the inclination and the patience to read it.

A few months ago, Blogger started tracking page-view statistics for all of its hosted blogs. I just got around to checking out my own stats for the first time. My first reaction was disappointment. Only 16 page views today? Some of those are mine, of course. My ego had been whispering to me, though I tried to shut it up: "What if you have the next 'Conscience of a Liberal' on your hands and you just don't know it yet?" I now know empirically that this isn't true.

But wait a sec. Sixteen just today? So half of them are from me.  I'm fairly certain that my few dedicated readers, bless them, are unlikely to ping me back on a daily basis, panting for new material. That means that people whom I don't know may occasionally read what I have to say. I swell with journalistic pride. I am a tiny New York Times.

I have two page views each this month from Latvia and Slovenia. I wrack my brain: have I been serving my Baltic constituency well this month? And where is Slovenia anyway? I head immediately to Wikipedia. I learn that it is between Italy and Croatia. Its capital is Ljubljana, which I have no idea how to pronounce. If I have not irrevocably alienated my Slovenian constituents by now with my shocking ignorance of their country, perhaps one of them will leave a comment helping me out with this.

After the United States, the second most-represented country among my readers is Brazil. (Nearly 6% of all page views.) As far as I know, I do not know anyone in Brazil. I am ecstatic by this point. My fingers quiver as they strike the keys. I will not let you down, my loyal South American brothers and sisters. If one of you will do me the favor of sending me prepaid plane tickets to visit your beautiful country, I will return the favor by writing more about it.

I take a breath. Most of these welcome strangers are just passing through. Most recurring traffic is probably still from people I know well.

There's just one thing: most of the people whom I know are reading me on a regular basis are Mac users. Those who aren't are nerds. So why are 43% of my page views coming from Internet Explorer -- the highest of any browser? My friends, I see what you are doing.

You are reading my blog at the office. Shame on you. Is that what they pay you for? You can hide no longer.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Choices to Make

I will fly again soon. When I do, I will make the choice many air travelers have been making for months now and that all air travelers will make soon: whether to allow myself to be photographed naked or to be frisked like a criminal and have my private parts touched. I will continue to choose the latter. This is not an easy choice to make, and if you choose other than I do, I will not call you unethical or a fool. But I will try to convince you that I am right.

Suppose that every time you entered or left your home, you were stopped by a government agent who disassembled your belongings, searched and inspected them all, and then undressed you, touching and examining your naked body. Surely, you would not stand for this. You would speak out. You would be in the street. You would lament loudly the loss of your liberty and of the moral center and political legacy of your country.

Now, suppose that all this happens out of sight. Your belongings and your body are searched as thoroughly and invasively as before. But the search is electronic and invisible to your eyes. You are not touched physically; the person violating you is in another room; you never see him. What would you do?

Where is the wrong: is it in being touched, or is it in being searched?

If the answer is the former, then there is nothing left to you that you may keep private. You can rightfully be recorded anywhere: at your business, among your friends, in public or private conversation. The things you say and do in your home with your children or your spouse can be filmed. So long as the person or persons recording you are unknown to you, and so long as the purposes to which they put those recordings are beyond your sight, you have no right or reason to complain.

I hold that the wrong is in being searched. My right to be secure in my person, house, papers, and effects has not been altered by the progress of time or of technology. The scope of that security is the knowledge of those things; the means by which my security may be violated are immaterial.

Indeed, an invisible search is more insidious than a visible one precisely because of that difference. You may be unaware of what is being done to you; you may be confused. Your neighbors, not seeing you in visible distress, will not come immediately to your aid. And over time, you may forget that you are being searched at all. You will lose all expectation of privacy, and any legal recourse you may once have had will have melted away.

When you opt for sexual touching instead of sexual recording (I do not say you are "opting out," because you are not getting out of anything), you are helping to make this invisible injustice a little more visible. You are participating in an act of nonviolent resistance.

"Nonviolent" is not a limitation to "resistance." It does not answer the question, "to what extent will you resist?". Nonviolent resistance does not restrain the brutality of those who are resisting; it exposes the brutality of those who are resisted. Gandhi and King did not win despite allowing themselves to be beaten; they won because they showed their neighbors that their opponents were willing to beat them.

Resist.



Don't we have to accept molestation as the price of our personal safety? Consider:

Friday, January 14, 2011

Is Pakistan a Failed State?

Legal organizations in Pakistan have expressed strong support for the assassin of Punjab's governor, Salman Taseer. They are not defending his right to a fair trial; they are defending his actions. The first paragraph of the above-linked article:
Lawyers showered the suspected killer of a prominent Pakistani governor with rose petals when he arrived at court Wednesday and an influential Muslim scholars group praised the assassination of the outspoken opponent of laws that order death for those who insult Islam.

The first tasks of any government are to protect its people and enforce the rule of law. The Pakistani people no longer have either of these things. In this country of nearly 200 million people, the supposed guardians of the latter have laid aside their duty in solidarity with one who attacked the former, a murderer and a traitor. It is a black time for Pakistanis especially, but we will all feel the repercussions.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Why I Love Apple Products

Because they do just what I want and nothing more? Because they're so easy and pleasant to use? No.

It's the packaging. These guys think of everything.

Case in point: I just got a new iPod Nano. When it comes in the mail, and you take it out of its corrugated shipping shell, this is what you see:

It's wrapped up like a present. A sleek, modern, tantalizing present from them to you. Is that little red ribbon functional? No. But it's adorable.

The box is tiny: it fits in the palm of your hand without extending over your fingers. The top is square; the sides are a little shorter. (I thought that the side panels might be golden rectangles; I was wrong. They're 2 1/4 by 1 3/4, for a ratio of just 1.29, as opposed to the wider and more golden almost-1.62.)

Then you unwrap it, and you see this:

Is it just a matter of opening a lid, and out the thing comes? No! The whole box unfolds in a lovely, perfectly symmetrical, origami blossom. As the box flattens away, the device rises up on a little crystalline pedestal, sharp-corned square inside round-cornered inside sharp-cornered. The icons on the screen (actually a sticker; the device is off, of course) repeat this pattern in reverse.

Oh, and the base of the pedestal? It is a golden rectangle, or nearly as close as our English units can get: 2 3/16 by 1 3/8, or 1.59 and change.

Does Dell take this much care and pride in their work? Does HTC? No. This is what the "devices are commodities" gigahertz-reciters just don't get. Laptops, mobile phones, and MP3 players aren't just boxes filled with parts with statistics printed on their sides. We carry them against our bodies every day. And I, for one, take joy in products that recognize and reward that intimacy.