Comfort Cheese

I, rather innocently, posted something to identi.ca / twitter / Facebook. The canonical text is:

signs you’ve spent too much time in the upper midwest: sometimes when stressed, you impulse buy cheese

I spent three years in Wisconsin--southern Wisconsin--for college. Ever since then I’ve related to cheese differently.

So here’s what happened:

I was shopping, Mostly minding my own business when I passed the cheese display. Not the fancy cheese display, you know, but the one next to the designer coffee creamers, and the pre-made baking doughs.

And, pretty much before I realized what had happened, I scooped up a half pound of store-brand mozzarella. I don’t think I even stopped the cart.

In the parking lot, I realized what had happened. I had cheese at home. A half pound of Munster--and pretty nice Munster I thought, though I’ve not met a Munster I didn’t like--waited for me in the fridge at home. The reason why I got it? Easy:

A few weeks ago, I was in Philadelphia staying with a friend who grew up in the Twin Cities and we had the most amazing mozzarella for dinner. I looked up after my second slice and said. “Wow, we’re so Midwestern.” It was undeniably true. A friend from the east cost, immediately confirmed for us that she thought we were weird. But it was amazing cheese. And we didn’t

As for my little block of cheese: it too was amazing. Not quite as good, I suppose, but it was refreshing and in a weird way it reminded me of home.

The people on Facebook also responded with a rather active little thread. Morris dancers from Minnesota. Contra Dancers from St. Louis. Classmates from College. Perhaps my experience wasn’t uncommon.

Cheese. Who would have thought it.

Building the Argument

I was talking to my grandmother (Hi!) last week, as I do most weeks, and we discussed the blog. She’s been a regular reader of the site for many years, and lately, we’ve enjoyed digging a little deeper into some of the things that I’ve written about here. She said, I think of the Owning Bits, and I agree, that it sort of seemed that I was building something… more.

But of course.

I don’t know that I’ve connected all of the dots, either in my head or on the blog, but I think that the things I’ve been blogging about for the last year or so are all conected, interwoven, and illuminate incredibly interesting features of each other when considered as a whole. There is “something building” here. To recap, so that we’re on the same page, the nexus of subjects that I’ve been milling over are:

  • Free Software and Open Source Software Development.

I’m interested in how communities form around these projects, how work is accomplished, both technically, and organizationally. I’m interested in how innovation happens or is stifled. How the communities are maintained, started, and lead. From a social and economic perspective there’s something fundamentally unique happening in this domain, and I’d like to learn a lot more about what those things are.

This topic and area of thought have taken a backseat to other questions more recently, but I think it’s fundamentally the core question that I’m trying to address at the moment. I think that I’m going to be making a larger point of addressing open source methodologies in the coming weeks and months as part of an attempt to pull things back together. I think.

I started writing about the IT industry because I found itreally difficult to think about Free Software without really knowing about the context of free software. One really needs to understand the entire ecosystem in order to really make sense of what open source means (and doesn’t mean.) Particularly in this day and age. Initially I was particularly interested in the Oracle/Sun Merger, and the flap around the ownership of MySQL; but since then, I think I’ve branched out a little bit more.

I’ve tried very hard to not frame the discussion about the IT industry and open source as a “community” versus “enterprise” discussion, or as being “free” versus “non-free,” or worse “free” versus “commercial.” These are unhelpful lenses, as Free Software and Open Source are incredibly commercial, and incredibly enterprise-centric phenomena, once you get past the initial “what do you mean there’s no cost or company behind this thing.”

In the same way that thinking about the IT Industry provides much needed context for properly understanding why “open source communities” exist and persist: thinking about how we actually use technology, how we relate to techno-social phenomena, and how these relationships, interfaces, and work-flows are changing. Both in changing response to technology, and changing the technology itself. It’s all important, and I think the very small observations are as useful as the very large observations.

In some respects, certainly insofar as I’ve formulated the Cyborg Institute, the “cyborg” moment can really be seen as the framing domain, but that doesn’t strike me a distinction that is particularly worth making.

Interestingly, my discussion of cooperatives and corporate organization began as a “pro-queer rejection of gay marriage,” but I’ve used it as an opportunity to think about the health care issue, as a starting point in my thinking regarding EconomyFail-2008/09. The economics of open source and Free Software are fascinating, and very real and quite important, and I found myself saying about six months ago that I wished I knew more about economics. Economics was one of those overly quantitative things in college that I just totally avoided because I was a hippie (basically.)

While it could be that my roots are showing, more recently I’ve come to believe that it’s really difficult to understand any social or political phenomena without thinking about the underlying economics. While clearly I have opinions, and I’m not a consummate economic social scientist, I do think that thinking about the economics of a situation is incredibly important.

I’ve been blogging for a long time. And I’m a writer. And I want to write and publish fiction as a part of my “career,” such as it is. As you might imagine these factors make me incredibly interested in the future of publishing of “content,” and of the entire nexus of issues that relate to the notion of “new media.”

Creative Commons shows us that there has been some crossover between ideas that originated in the “open source” world with “content” (writ large.) The future of publishing and media is a cyborg issue, an ultimately techno-social phenomena, and thinking about the technology. that underpins the new media is really important. And of course, understanding the economic context of the industry that’s built around content is crucial.

So what’s this all building to? Should I write some sort of monograph on the subject? Is there anyone out there who might want to fund a grad student on to do research on these subjects in a few years?

The problem my work here so far--to my mind--is that while I’m pretty interested in the analysis that I’ve been able to construct, I’m not terribly satisfied with my background, and with the way that I’ve been largely unable to cite my intellectual heritage for my ideas and thoughts. I never studied this stuff in school, I have a number of books of criticism, potentially relevant philosophy, and important books in Anthropology (which seems to fit my interests and perspectives pretty well.) I’m pretty good at figuring things out, but I’m acutely aware of a lacking in my work of reference, methodology, and structure. As well as of any sort of empirical practice.

So maybe that’s my project for the next year, or the next few months at any rate: increase rigor, read more, consider new texts, pay more attention to citations, and develop some system for doing more empirical work.

We’ll see how this goes. I’d certainly appreciate feedback here. Thanks!

I Am a Writer

It’s a weird thing, this “being a writer” stuff. I’m sure I’ve written about this here to some extent. As a kid, I think--at least I tell myself now--that I wanted to be a writer. There was something about writing that mystified me and challenged me and had me totally entranced. I had a hell of a time with writing in high school, enough that I really shied away from formal training as a writer in college in almost entirely. I took two English classes in college, sort of (they were cross listed as something else), and I knew for sure that I wasn’t going to be a writer.

Right.

And then I got out of school, and something clicked. Actually, the revival of my blogging efforts that stuck hit during my final semester of college. And one thing lead to another and, here I am. I write this blog, that’s you know… fairly prolific. I have job where I write things day in and day out. I write fiction a fair piece, though not as much as I might like.

One might think--I certainly did--that getting a job as a writer would put to bed all of my insecurities and doubts about being a writer. But it doesn’t. I’m not complaining, mind you, but it’s still weird.

Fundamentally, writers have a peculiar way of being in the world that is always a bit unsettling and alienating. Certainly we’re all different, and the experience of being a poet is different than the experience of being a technical writer is different from being a science fiction, but I’m convinced that there are some common features.

Writing, at least for me, is sort of about turning experiences into words. This isn’t some wishy washy practices of translating the feeling of moments into words; but rather a pretty simple observation about practices. No matter if I’m writing science fiction stories or systems administration documentation, my ability to write is always dependent upon doing things in the world and gathering experience. Without this, I run out of stored experiences, of “mojo” and my writing becomes flat and painful, if I can manage to write anything at all.

Now the writing part, after a while becomes pretty straightforward: Sit down. Figure out where you need to go in a given text and about how long you have to get there plus a few other variables, like voice and audience. And then you just sort of let the “experience,” part flow out onto the page1 as you sort of mold the thoughts into the path you need to follow.

And this leaves the walking through the world part. It’s reflexive and feels normal, until you realize that you are instinctively collecting images, snippets of speech, moments, situations, little stories, and other bits of miscellany, in some master database in your head. Every conversation becomes an experiment in expressing an idea or a theory. It’s not so overt that it makes “living” difficult, or conversations awkward (though it does sometimes), but I sometimes have to remind myself that what’s going on in my head isn’t what’s going on in everyone’s head. No really.

Another problem with being a writer is that, everyone writes, or knows how to, at least in the abstract. Some folks don’t like it, and some folks aren’t particularly “skilled written communicators,” but we all know how to do it. This isn’t the case for a lot of professions, disciplines, or even hobbies. Not everyone can write a computer program, not everyone can knit a sweater, or cook a meal, or analyze great amounts of data, engineer more advanced agricultural technologies and crops, and so forth.

This creates some tension: since so many people know how to write, and yet most people don’t as a matter of course, there is some mystification around what writing requires. “What are you doing this weekend,” they’ll ask. “I was thinking of staying home and writing, and maybe going for a walk or two,” I say gleefully. “That sounds dull, and don’t you " they say. “Well, yes, but it sounds amazing. I wonder if I have enough food to get me through the weekend,” I say. Welcome to my life.

Despite all this I nearly always feel like a cheat and a fake. My fiction is totally unpublished, and I’m not sure I’m writing in the correct direction, or doing the right things to be able to really have an active fiction writing career in the next 7-10 years. I’m constantly unsure about the success of the blog: it’s self published, sometimes it feels like I don’t have any reviewers outside of friends and readers-who-have-become-friends. And while I’m quite pleased and proud of what I’ve been able to accomplish at work, and I think that We/I’ve been able to be pretty successful, I’m really part of a team and what I write is so terribly niche.

I think that’s the other part of being a writer that’s so strange. No matter how much of it you do, no matter how much of your income is the direct result of the way you commit words to paper (or emacs buffer): you’re still just another hacker.

But maybe this is true for everyone. I can accept that. I hope you all have a good day.


  1. Wow, I used a dead-tree metaphor. Have no fear, when I say “page” I really mean emacs buffer↩︎

technology task list

Thought I’ve gotten away from it a bit in recent months, tychoish has a long history of being an outlook of lists of various things. While I’m not sure I want to post all of my lists for everyone to point and laugh at, the following might be worth exploring.

This is a list of things I need to get worked out with my new computer, with technology in general. I post it both because I need an excuse to do a little brainstorming, and because it might be nice to get a little feedback from you all. Without further ado:

  • Get USB Mounting/Auto-mounting to work more smoothly.

I use USB mass storage devices so rarely that I’m totally oblivious as to how I should go about setting this up with Arch Linux.

  • Reformat and server-ify my desktop.

Since I’m basically not using my desktop as a desktop anymore… and there are some things that just don’t work… and there are no files left on it that I don’t have backed up elsewhere… I think it’s time to do a system wipe. I want to put Arch on it. I had thought about putting Xen on it and using virtual machines, but I’m now in a place where the increased management burden of that would outweigh the benefits of that. So I think I’m just going to set it up like a server, (but I suppose setting up a lightweight desktop wouldn’t be a big stress). Mostly I think having a server at home will be useful for testing, development, and othersuch projects. In any case, it’s not terribly useful as it is.

  • Reorganize my music collection (now on laptop).

I copied over my music collection and while I’ve had a bunch of luck with mpd, I need to spend some time reorganizing the music. It’s on the list, and I shall do it.

  • Straighten out the situation with my external hard drive.

Yeah, no clue here. I hope it’s alright. I’m going to try and use the Mac at work to see if I can’t make it work better. I may crack the enclosure and put it in my desktop once that’s in better working order.

  • Acquire accessories:

There’s stuff I’ve had on my shopping list for a while. In no particular order:

  • A more suitable laptop sleeve.

As it turns out, I have this backpack that’s great for lugging stuff around, but it’s bigger than I need most of the time, and the laptop padding could handle my 15.4" PowerBook back in the day. Current laptop is quite small, so it’s sort of overkill. This is lower priority.

  • Additional power adapters.

The battery on this puppy is amazing. Having said that it’s nice to have a power adapter that can just live in my bag so I don’t have to fuss with repacking the power adapter every time I leave somewhere. I think one at my desk at work, one for home, and one for my bag is my usual complement and Lenovo power adapters are a lot cheaper than mac ones…

  • Wireless access point for home.

Somehow I don’t have one. Oversight. Must procure soon. The thing is that I have an ancient 100 foot Ethernet cable that seems to do the job pretty well.

  • Sort out Sleep/Wake Cycle

I think I mostly have this one sorted out. Basically, I had problems with the new laptop freezing when waking up from suspend/sleep when the network state upon return was different than when the laptop went into suspend. A little tweak to the ACPI event script, and everything seems to be in order.

  • Write Network Management Triggers

I’m using the preferred network manager suite for Arch Linux (e.g. “netcfg”) and it works great, except it’s sometimes a bit bothersome to mange things, when I think it ought to just work. So I think I have a solution: create shortcuts and triggers in the window manager to get network stuff working a bit more smoothly. Now I just have to make it work.

  • Tinker with StumpWM contrib packages

Once I got Stump WM working and set up, I mostly abandoned it. There’s all sorts of cool lisp things in the contrib/ directory that I haven’t tinkered with. Well, except for mpd.lisp, and even then not terribly much. I think I’d get something out of playing with those and so it’s on the list.

  • Figure out what to do with the x41.

I’m not sure. The old laptop works, and I feel like I should do something with it… But what?

On Publishing

I’ve been thinking about publishing and the publishing industry of late. I’m sure some of it is related to my wanting of a kindle and my resulting thoughts on consolidation, and maybe some small measure of it has to do with the fact that sometimes it easier to think about publishing and the future of publishing than it is to think about ones own creative projects. So be it.

First, “what is there to think about?” you ask? Well, lots of things: I’ve written about wanting a kindle, and some thoughts about consolidation, and finally some thoughts on digital publishing More recently I’ve been thinking more about the “work” of publishing and content creation, apart from the changing business models and technological context.

Publishers (of any kind, and their editorial departments), by contemporary convention are responsible for reading through the slush and figuring what’s good and what not. Ideally publishers are the stewards of taste, and the people who figure out whats “good” and what people want to read. On some fundamental level, publishers are curators. The second main function of publishers are as the provider and organizer around services. Publishers contract with copy editors, with design and layout people, they get the cover art, they do promotional work, and the million other things it takes to turn a manuscript into a book.

As the traditional publishing model has… deteriorated, I think a lot of people have been interested in figuring out “what happens next?” myself as much as anyone. Having said that, the way in which the traditional publishing model has deteriorated has shaped how we think about what comes next. This makes sense of course, but I want to challenge myself to think about things more broadly (and you, dear friends as well, but I’m sure you’ve already figured this one out.)

I mean, it’s not like the old media died in a day. The blogging phenomena started, and writers/etc. were able to promote their work directly in ways that they hadn’t managed to before. Margins on book sales went down, which has cut into promotional budgets (as much as anything). Also, thanks to developments in technology the size of most first runs is much smaller than it used to be. This is probably a good thing, but it also means that the capital investment on new authors and books is much less than it used to be. …and the end result of this is that we’re prone to seeing publishing companies as “Authors Services” companies.

As a model for “what comes next,” services for authors is a huge part of what we need from the publishing companies. Centralizing and connecting authors with people who can provide big-picture editing, with people who do copy editing and proof reading, with people who do the cover art and layout of the book itself, and with people who can do the promotional work, getting the book plugged into the distribution channels. These are real needs, that aren’t going to evaporate any time soon.

But what about the editorial and curatorial roles of publishers? What about the branding associated with publishing houses? I think there’s probably some future for critical discourse in blogs and in digital forums, which will provide some of these functions, but that’s not the full answer, and I’m not sure what the full answer is.

As I wrote, earlier, I think figuring out some sort of subscription system to support content creation and distribution. I think having the economic superstructure in place, or at least worked out conceptually is really important before we start working on new technologies, like ebook readers, and digital content distribution channels.

It’s an interesting time to be around, that’s for sure.

Owning Bits

Some First Principals:

  • It is difficult, and likely impossible to technologically restrict the duplication and redistribution of digital resources. In other-words, digitally accessible resources will never be scarce.
  • Creators of content (music, literature, software) should be reimbursed for their work, and there should be business models that support these kinds of pursuits. In other words people should be compensated for the creation of content in a viable and sustainable manner.
  • Information probably does want to be free. Creators of information, should want their information to be “free” because the information that has the most power and influence is that which is most accessible.
  • The conveyance of physical objects (books, etc.) is a source of concrete value. Physicality is not the only basis for economic exchange, of course, but it’s a good place to start.

Questions and Answers:

  • What is the “content problem?”

    I suppose the core of the problem with content these days is that we don’t have a good set of business models that can support the creation of new content in an ongoing sort of way. The industry around content is unstable and in flux: newspapers are hemorrhaging money and it doesn’t seem likely that they’re going to be able to do anything other than (maybe) prolonging the amount of time between now and when they collapse. Some paper companies might surrivive, but the consolidation and “flufification” of a great many newspapers, doesn’t seem to have a great deal of long term potential.

    Same thing with the book publishers. There are some that seem to be doing interesting things. Tor.com seems to be a good example of a step in the right direction. And maybe there will be an ebook platform that makes sense, or maybe we’ll see some sort of revival in niche-booksellers that will revive an interest in book collection.

    But the bottom line seems to be that we need to find some better way to support the creation of content. Because what we have now doesn’t seem to fit the bill. And whats on the horizon, doesn’t seem to be much better.

  • Isn’t content a horrible word for this?

    I confess that the word “content” makes me a bit sick from time to time. Not only is it awkward to lump the concerns of musicians, academics, writers, journalists, and perhaps even software developers all in one label. I’m not even sure if the concerns of content producers as a whole, if we can address these folks as a group, are particularly aligned.

    Some academics use the term “knowledge production,” to refer to the core output of their work, and I’m using content in a similarly broad context. Writing/Literature/Music, “Art,” and even thought this might be a tad bit unconventional I think there’s not much that separates the consumption of software and the consumption of essays (for example.)

    There are also a number of different dimensions upon which we can think about content and the future of content: the experience of consumption; the process of generation; and the business models which support the creation and consumption of content.

  • Owning Bits? What do you mean?

    I said, a few weeks ago of the whole DRM issue, that I thought “we needed to get away from the whole ‘owning bits’ metaphor for content distribution.” The whole DRM thing that so many of us find so onerous would be mostly become a non issue if we dropped the pretense that when you download a song or a book or a movie that you’re “buying them.” If you’re just watching the bits for a while, who cares what the digital restrictions are? If prices are reasonable for content, who cares if you can only “have” a half dozen books at once? I think it would all work out. But maybe that’s just me.

    The questions that result, however are much more interesting: What does it mean, socially and politically, if we don’t own information? What is reasonable and sustainable pricing? What kinds of distribution schemes make sense?

  • Besides the general “fear of copying” that has heretofore plagued the content industry, what new technological challenges might the content industry face in the mid-to-short term future?

    One of the major issues that I think we’re going to have to deal with is the fact that digital information systems are too mutable.

    While this flexibility gives us lots of very powerful information resources, like Wikipedia and the ability to correct flaws in digital versions, it also means that Amazon can remove books from the Kindle at will. Furthermore, it means that creators and publishers can (attempt) to “take back” content if they have second thoughts about it. The mutability issue is obviously a mixed bag, but I think the most useful information and the most free information will have some sort of versioning information.

  • What are the business models that will support content in the in the future?

    The one downfall of Project Xanadu is that it pushed forward an idea of “micropayments,” and the idea if we charge a la carte for content and have the per unit cost for content low enough that somehow it’ll all work out. The problem with this, however, is that the psychological border between “free” and “not-free” is much larger than the border between “a few cents” and “a few dollars.” The end result: micropayments keep failing.

    It’s a shame that this idea was the most successful idea to proliferate from Xanadu.

    My current bet is that some sort of subscription model is likely to win out. Pay a few dollars a month, and get access to some reasonable quantity of content. Have different levels of subscription to meet different needs and demands, and I think there’s potential there.

    The other prevailing model is the “rockstar” model, where the content creator goes on a tour and uses honoraria and merchandise sales to offset the cost of content creation. We see this both for authors who tour to support books as well as the musicians for whom I’ve named the model. It works, it focuses the transaction of physical objects.

  • You seem to like subscription models. What are the implications of a shift toward subscription models in terms of the way people relate to the information (music, writing, etc.) that they consume?

    I’m not sure. I think creating a technological limitation which stores version information in some sort of immutable index. I don’t think publishers will really go for this.

    I think subscription models may also revive (in part) the interest and power of the physical-object-market. In the way that Libraries don’t cannibalize booksales (and may encourage and support the sale of real books,) I think digital content subscriptions could have the same effect on content.

As always I look forward to your thoughts and responses to these questions. See you in comments!

The Web Application Layer

This post is an attempt to ask “what next?” in the world of contemporary application development. I’m disturbed by the conveyance of applications in this format. This is not news to popular readers, but, rather than complain extensively about the state of the contemporary technology, I think it would be more productive to muse on possible improvements and some of the underlying structural concerns in this space

In No Particular Order…

Today, we routinely design and implement user interfaces in HTML and JavaScript these days. I’m not convinced that HTML, or any XML based format is really all that good for conveying well formatted structured text, much less pixel perfect graphic design and application interface.

Lightweight text markups like Markdown, reStructuredText (for all it’s warts), and Textile are human readable, provide structure, and convey text well. Furthermore, it’s very possible to efficiently translate them into very high quality output formats, including XML formats and LaTeX.

One of the driving forces behind the convergence on “web-technologies” is that JavaScrpt/HTML/CSS are all thought to be “cross platform” technologies. It doesn’t matter if you’re running on a Mac, or a PC, or UNIX system, if it has a web browser it’ll run there. The web application movement realizes the “write once run everywhere,” notion that Sun attempted with Java in the 90s (except, that Java never really worked for that.) Except that every browser implements JavaScript/HTML/CSS in a different way which means, that it’s really “write once and tweak it to death so that IE/Firefox/Webkit don’t break.” There are some things (like jQuery; HTML5) that make this better, but the browser market is dirty and browser makers will never be incentivized to comply with the standards.1

RESTful APIs2 are, I think, leading to more desktop applications. Or at least making them more possible. It used to be very much the case that if you wanted web-connected data you had to go to a website. Now, if you want data from the Internet, in most cases it can be gotten in an easy to process formant (i.e. YAML/JSON) and then folded into a desktop application. In addition to “rounded corner power” and “social media,” the biggest impact of “Web 2.0” has been the increasing awareness and interest the API[^quality] in the more general public.

Adobe AIR is a wonderful idea. Even smaller lightweight devices like smartphones and netbooks are so powerful that it doesn’t make a lot of sense to have them operate as such “dumb” clients. Conventional web development has developers cobble together server applications that put together content and then chuck it off to the client for rendering. With APIs (see above) it doesn’t make a lot of sense to leave all the heavy lifting on the server. Adobe understood this with AIR, the problem with AIR? It’s wildly proprietary, applications look out of place on every platform, and performance is miserable relative to “real” native applications. Its a great idea, and I’m terribly interested to see what comes next in this space.

I’m grumpy about HTML 5 because I remain unconvinced that web standards are really a viable way of regulating sane design and development practices. It also seems too likely that HTML 5 solves the problems we were having 2 years ago, rather than the problems we’ll have over the next 10 years. Also, I think this world needs a hell of a lot less XML, in any form.

What are your thoughts?

[^qualit]y]:I’m not sure there is any singular aspect of the whole “Web 2.0 thing” that is unequivocally bad or good. I think on the whole web design is better now than it used to be, but “rounded corner power” at this point all looks the same, and it’s really difficult to achieve in a clean technological sort of way. And the web has always been social; so while that’s not new, it’s nice that the web has caught on even if the whole “social networking silo” phenomena is less than desirable. The same thing goes for RESTful APIs: it’s great that data is more accessible, but it sucks that APIs can be so proprietary and I’m not convinced that HTTP is the “right” or “best” protocol for this technology. But these things happen.


  1. You may think that I’m simply being pessimistic, and you might say that IE 7 and 8 are a huge step in the right direction and I think that this might be true, but the only reason to create and maintain a browser (to my mind) are: masochism, to get people to use your search engine, and to be able to implement special proprietary (and non-standard) features. The competitive advantage comes from the unique enhancements that a given browser is able to offer over the other browsers in the market. For a while (e.g. 1999-2007?) the more standards compliant a browser was the better pages looked in it. I’m not sure that will continue to hold true. ↩︎

  2. This is a simplification, but lets think of this as the obligatory API that all web-services provide today: from twitter to flickr, to YouTube, and beyond. These allow programmers to connect to the service using the HTTP protocol ↩︎

Technology Update

I fear I’ve been posting too many posts in the vein of “so here’s what I’m up to folks,” rather than you know writing about things that may be interesting to folks out there in Internet land. Nevertheless, here’s another slightly more technical post.

I’ve mentioned in passing a few times over the past few months that:

  • I’ve been interested in shifting to Arch Linux. While I’ve been running Arch in a VM on my work desktop, I have been quite slow to move additional machines over to Arch. It’s not for lack of wanting, but I have a hard time disrupting something that works when it’s already working.
  • Also on the software front, I’ve switched to using the Stump Window Manger, and while I’ve talked a bit about this on the blog, I’ve done virtually no reporting of my ongoing progress with this.
  • I missed the days when I only had one computer and it went everywhere with me. While I like having all this computing possibility around, I’m moving around enough these days that it doesn’t make sense to be tied down to a desktop. I like sitting on the couch and writing, and I like being able to go off for a weekend and be able to work on the projects that I really need/want to work on. That’s hard when you have a desk and an “office.”

This post provides updates with regards to these subjects.

Moving to Arch Linux and StumpWM

A few weeks ago, I had this massive cascade of software issues. Mostly things were provoked by the switch to Stump. Basically, the issue was that Stump wasn’t embedded in all of the desktop frameworks that are so popular these days, there were a number of system resources that just didn’t work with the new Window Manager.

The thing was that my systems were running a terribly hacked up version of Ubuntu. I was running weird kernels, I’d mostly given up on the display managers, and the systems were just messy. So the problem wasn’t so much with Stump, as it was with the way that Ubuntu packages and manages certain aspects of the system inside of desktop functionality. I’m thinking specifically of the ways that networking and sound are managed by dbus. If that didn’t make sense to you, don’t worry.

Since the chief problem boiled down to “this system is too complex for me to be able to manage,” and it no longer became an effective use of my time to maintain the system as it was… I wiped everything and finally put Arch on the laptop.

And it went on smoothly, and everything worked. Arch is a tinkerers distribution, there’s no doubt about that. Since I did have Arch experience it wasn’t a terribly traumatic experience. It took a little while to figure out how to make Suspend and Resume work (i.e. for the laptop when the lid closes,) and manually managing network connections isn’t incredibly straightforward until you get the hang of it, but it all works now. And I couldn’t be happier

The Experience of StumpWM

This isn’t really a full report, but more a note to say that my brain has really adapted to Stump, and I’m quite happy with the experience. Stump doesn’t in and of itself increase the ways I’m able to be productive, but… I do think that I work more efficiently when using Stump.

There’s still a lot left to be done with regards to the tweaking of stump for me. I need to play some more with the MPD (music player) integration, and there are a number of other contributed Lisp packages that I really want to play with. Also, I finally figured out how the Key Binding Map works when I had gotten my basic keybidning needs taken care of and I haven’t touched it since then. Now I know how I use the system and I’m ready to tweak things again, but I haven’t gotten around to it.

Additional thoughts regarding Stump, from a more “objective” perspective: it is incredibly stable, and while it’s not blindingly lightweight, it lives in 20 megs of ram and that’s about it. I never need to restart the window manager or X anymore, and that’s kind of nice.

So in short, the Stump WM is a great thing and I need to write a bit more about the actual using of it. But first I need to do a little more tinkering. Because I’m like that.

The Consolidation of the Gear and Laptops

What a strange heading. In any case. I gave in and bought a new laptop, last week. I found a great deal on a used Lenovo x200 with great specs, and I thought that it would solve the majority of my issues with my existing technology.

First, it was considerably newer than the laptop I have been using for most of the past year: more RAM, dual core system, bigger and faster hard drive. Second, it had all of the qualities of the old laptop that I adored: it’s a 12" laptop which means very portable without making sacrifices, and it forgoes a trackpad for a “ThinkPad Nipple” for a mouse. Finally (and perhaps most importantly,) the screen resolution is 1200x800 (up from 1024×768) which makes it possible to comfortably tile two windows next to each-other at once. This is the same resolution as my 15" PowerBook G4 (and I think all of the 13 inch MacBooks). It’s a good size, and I was really aching for the increased screen space.

It turns out that all of these concerns were addressed fully with this new system. The screen is perfect, it’s peppy. it’s also nice to return to the modern computing world. I continue to be mightily impressed with the build quality, design, and functionality of IBM/Lenovo hardware.

My computer consolidation isn’t yet complete: my desktop hasn’t yet been backed up and converted to Arch, but it’s getting there. I’m also not quite sure what happens with the old laptop. I’m thinking of keeping it around as a spare, but if anyone has a need for a really awesome ThinkPad x41 they should be in touch.

Onward and Upward!

The Dangers of Consolidation

I mentioned in an earlier post that I thought Barnes and Noble was largely responsible for the ongoing and impending collapse of the publishing industry, and that’s just the sort of thing that I couldn’t leave a lone without a little bit of further pondering.

The assertion is that Barnes and Nobel, and Borders particularly as they competed for near total domination of the local-book retail market, forced a consolidation of the publishing industry at the very moment when the worst possible thing for publishing was consolidation.

Consolidation allows an operation to make a bunch of money quickly. The mechanics of this are pretty simple, after all. When yo consolidate you can cut all sorts of mundane expenses, from the physical costs of maintaining parallel operations, to hard costs like printing and shipping costs that can benefit from collective organization.

Amazon had a role in the consolidation of sale of books, certainly, but Amazon has always been a distribution and data company, primarily. Their strategy is to find a way to turn a profit on the sale of goods, any goods: they do this by having a complete inventory of everything and levering a lot of data concerning buying habits and browsing habits to make sure people who are shopping find something to buy.

Where Amazon’s limiting factor is connecting people who want to buy things (books) with books they might like to buy, the “traditional” book sellers, are limited by the amount of shelf space they can use to display and promote books. So they edged all of the little booksellers out of business by having huge stores and coffee shops and so forth, and then faced with too many books and not enough shelf space, they used their muscle to push the publishing industry toward increased consolidation and a “blockbuster” business model.

Blockbusters are how the movie industry works. Production companies make a bunch of movies, on the premise that if one or two turn a huge profit, they can afford to make a number of movies that flop or that just break-even. Hence the great power of reliable successes: another John Grisham novel, Return of the Mummy King VI, etc., the “copy-cat” phenomena and the erosion of the independent movie production business.

Book sellers were culpable as well--consolidation is attractive in what are essentially commodity businesses--and selling easily produced paper-based volumes is a commodity business. Maybe it would have happened anyway, but the undeniable market success of Barnes and Nobel is not, given what I can tell from where I’m sitting, a marker of success of the publishing industry as a whole.

And you know, when you’re a book seller, throwing the publishing industry onto the tracks before an oncoming train, to achieve some mildly impressive profits for a decade seems… not incredibly bright. And not the kind of thing that I’m interested in supporting or putting my faith in.

It strikes me that this “consolidation meme” is a common feature of unsustainable and inauthentic economy, and it extends beyond book retail into other failed and failing sectors of the ecomony.

  • Banks. Obvious here. The big banks lost track of the micro economics that make the macro economics go, and we got things like sub-prime morgages, because while they make sense from the consolidated-bank perspective they don’t make sense to people. Like, the John Grisham-esque Legal/Drama/Thriller book makes a lot of sense to the booksellers and the publishers, but most people can only really read so many of them before loosing interest.
  • Software. Microsoft’s production of windows makes a lot of sense if you’re a big company, but if you use computers in a specialized way, Windows is like an illfitting suit from Target. It works, but it’s uncomfortable and rough around the edges. There is general consensus that “The Microsoft Way” isn’t the best technological solution to the various problem, even among people who use it regularly (developer tools might require a slightly more complex investigation).
  • Your Example Here. Leave a note in the comments.

Thoughts?

On Wanting a Kindle

I have a confession to make. I really want a Kindle. Bad.

No really. I do. The DRM scares me, and I think the books are just the other side of “too expensive,” and because I come from a long line of “book collecting people” I think there are a lot of books that I would want to own in the paper. Furthermore, I have a great laptop for reading books (a small tablet), and I have a very long history of using small form computing devices (think palm pilots and pocket pcs) to read books. And yet, I returned to paper a few years ago, and don’t feel really bad about that.

I’m not going to get a Kindle, at least not yet. I want to see what the Barnes and Nobel “Nook” looks like. I need to upgrade the laptop more, and I think something like the Nokia n900 might end up being a better device in this space and even if it isn’t, I think we’re going to see a lot of development in the “tablet” space in the next year, and it seems premature to buy now. For me.

Given all these caveats, I think its interesting to think about why I want the Kindle so bad. Here are some questions and answers:

So given all these caveats, why do you want a Kindle so bad?

I’ve held one on a number of occasions, and I’ve always been struck with how nice they feel. They’re solid and they’re thin. The text is clear and readable, the page advance buttons fall wonderfully under your thumbs. The experience, at least on these second generation devices, is really quite good.

I’ve rather famously, taken an entire bag of books along with me for a long weekend trip. A weekend where, I ended up reading about two and a half pages. So, the fact that you can take a whole pile of books or more properly the potential for getting the one right book you want, is appealing in a practical way.

Is this just about the hardware, or is there more?

I think the Kindle is the ideal distribution mechanism for periodical literature. The codex is likely to be of enduring importance for quite while, but I’m almost certain that the magazine and newspaper isn’t. While blogs are great, don’t get me wrong, I think there’s a need for publications that are in-between the “book” and the “blog,” and I think the Kindle is a great space for those kinds of texts. Practically, I’d like to read more content of that sort, and if I had a kindle, I suspect that I’d get a lot of use out of it.

The instant distribution model is a huge plus, and I really like to read. Cory Doctorow says something to the effect of “Ebook readers will fail, because a ‘good’ ebook reader would need to remove distractions and malfunction possibilities as effectively as paper, and devices that ‘only’ read books, won’t sell very well next to devices which also check your email and play games.” And I think that’s probably a true observation, but it looks like the Kindle does single-function pretty well. I think the next year, or so, will be really interesting as we see more tablets in the market.

You’re obviously not going to get one today, so what would make you change your mind?

The DRM and the price of the books. The DRM really needs no additional condemnation. I think 10 dollars is a bit steep for books, particularly because it’s so flat rate, and while it’s cheaper than the hardcover (and that’s good,) it’s also more than a paperback in most cases. And at least in a paperback you have something on your shelf. And the DRM really adds insult to injury. If they distributed the files in plain text/html and some weirdass XML format that would be one thing, but they give you a blob that is certain to be next to useless in a year or two. If books were 3 bucks, or 5 bucks, or even 6 or 7 bucks--even if the device was 300--or there was some sort of subscription service, I wouldn’t mind the DRM, but as it is… the DRM makes the economics difficult for me to compute.

If the DRM is such an issue why have you gotten this far?

A lot of times in the paper-book world you buy a book. Read a hundred pages (or maybe twenty?), and then are so disgusted by the book that you can’t bare to read any more, and you set it aside. And often times a trip to the bookstore (particularly in advance of a trip) means buying a number of books, when only some of these books will be of worth (to you) to justify their expense.

These situations are less likely to happen with a Kindle. There are significant samples, and you carry the bookstore around with you. I suspect the chances are that you only really need to “buy” the books that you read, which might end up being significantly cheaper in the long run.

The Kindle is a physical manifestation of a shift away from the physicality of information, but it’s only really a symptom and not a leading cause this shift, right? If you accept this, if you accept that most information and knowledge only exists as bits and photons, then all of the rituals that we build around books (collections, libraries, shelves) are less important.

What about the *Nook*?

The nook is a more impressive platform. For sure, it fails the Doctorow test of (potentially) being too interesting for tasks that aren’t reading books.

I think I probably have some more writing to do on this subject, but, in general I think Amazon is a better and smarter company than Barnes and Nobel, and if the name of the game in ebook readers is “vendor lock-in” then I trust Amazon a bit more. In a lot of ways, I hold B&N responsible for the ongoing/impending collapse of the publishing industry.1

In any case, mostly, at the moment I just want to wait and see before I make any sort of decision on the subject.

Thoughts?


  1. The consolidation that B&N and Borders organized for the sale of books collapsed a lot of the niche markets that were maintained by niche booksellers, and the much lamented disappearance of the midlist and backlist. The current “blockbuster supported” book industry isn’t sustainable beyond the next 5 to 10 years or so. ↩︎