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I just read an interesting article about why the internet is stupid. To quote:

“The Internet is stupid. On purpose. Its designers made sure the biggest, most inclusive network of them all was dumb as a box of rocks.

The Internet doesn’t know lots of things a smart network like the phone system knows: Identities, permissions, priorities, etc. The Internet only knows one thing: this bunch of bits needs to move from one end of the Net to another.

There are technical reasons why stupidity is a good design. Stupid is sturdy. If a router fails, packets route around it, meaning that the Net stays up. Thanks to its stupidity, the Net welcomes new devices and people, so it grows quickly and in all directions. It’s also easy for architects to incorporate Net access into all kinds of smart devices – camcorders, telephones, sprinkler systems – that live at the Net’s ends.

That’s because the most important reason Stupid is Good has less to do with technology and everything to do with value.”

I think that’s very true, and also very smart (ha). I actually try to incorporate that principle into a lot of the work I do– web applications, in general, should be built for people who are NOT very web savvy. They should have interfaces that are simple and straightforward. They should do what you’d expect them to do. They should tell you when you do something wrong, in terms that are easy to understand.

Too bad not everyone thinks stupid is smart.

(with credit to Doc Searls and David Weinberger, World of Ends)

Zack has a habit that annoys the heck out of Laralee: he runs over to her nightstand, opens the top drawer, and rummages around for interesting things. These include her glasses (how about those fingerprint smudges?), a few bottles of medicine, and assorted other trinkets.

Exasperated with him, she installed a little childproof lock on the drawer tonight. It’s a plastic piece that locks and won’t open the drawer more than about an inch until you push it down to unlock it. After installing it (which took a good twenty minutes of drilling and adjusting screws) she tested it. Solid. The drawer didn’t open.

So she called Zack over. “Hey Zack, can you open this drawer?” He reached for it, pulled…

YANK.

The drawer slid right open. She adjusted it for the thousandth time, tried it, and it didn’t budge. “Hey Zack…”

YANK.

Again, he managed to open the drawer with one swift pull. This went on perhaps three or four more times, as I watched with immense amusement. She’d test it– solid. She’d ask Zack to try it. YANK. I think the trick was that he’d pull it so fast (hey, there’s exciting stuff in there!) the plastic catch didn’t have time to lock.

Tomorrow she’s going to take the childproof lock off.

Like anyone who has a computer and an e-mail account, I’m bombarded with spam. The more interesting ones (to me) tend to be the letters from people in central Africa (usually Nigeria) who have managed to get their hands on huge sums of money from a cost overrun on a dam project or whatever. And of course they want my help (!) to transfer it to an offshore bank account, for which they’ll pay me a cool million.

It’s staggering to think that people fall for these scams– some estimates say American’s shell out $100 million a year because they give out their bank account numbers and suddenly find their accounts emptied. But a new game is emerging in the cyber-culture: that of baiting the fraudsters.

That’s right, friends! You too can set up a dummy e-mail account somewhere and start corresponding with your new Nigerian friend… leading them on a humorous but eventually frustrating trail of fake information, seeing just how long they’ll continue trying to milk you for your cash.

Apparently there are groups of people who do this, and have a marvelous time doing to. I haven’t decided yet if I should play along, but it would sure be a fun adventure…

In the lunch time prayer today, Kyra said:

“… and bless that we’ll all eat healthy food, and never have sweets again …”

You don’t hear many kids say that! (When questioned after the prayer, she admitted that she was in fact really looking forward to Easter and Halloween… which indicates to me that her desire to never have sweets again might not be very strong.)

Internet radio is perhaps one of the cooler faces of network technology. Through a server like Shoutcast I can pick from hundreds of music “stations” run by people like me. Those stations are broadcasting continuous music, and I can connect and listen whenever I want. There aren’t any ads (well, some stations promote themselves now and then) and it’s crystal-clear digital sound.

Of course there’s a down side to all of this: the evil empire of the RIAA has decided this technology is somehow overstepping the bounds of copyright, and therefore it must be crushed and eliminated in order to preserve the monopoly the RIAA has enjoyed for decades. Therefore, internet radio is now subject to an FCC tax– levied per song per listener, as I recall– which makes operating these stations an expensive proposition. It’s especially important to note that internet radio is taxed at a higher rate than standard AM/FM broadcast radio. Interesting.

In any case, I believe the RIAA will eventually crumble under the weight of its own legal division as it continues trying to fight the twenty-first century, and we’ll all be rid of a greedy self-centered corporate monster.

In the meantime, I’ll continue listening to Shoutcast and occasionally run my own server just for fun. Let the tunes begin!

I just read a fascinating article that points out how a bag of flour that today costs 69 cents was equivalent to about three days’ wages for someone living in the Middle
Ages.  As technology and society have advanced, so has our ability to provide food for the populace. It’s astounding to consider that just before Gutenberg’s time, a single book might cost the equivalent of $6,000 in today’s dollars.

Yet despite our staggering advances, there are still places in the world where people live in conditions that are quite literally the same as those people in the Middle Ages. Wealth, technology, and access to food and health care are distributed in a shamefully unequal manner. I whine because my internet connection isn’t fast enough, while across the world someone cries because their infant son has died of malnutrition.

There aren’t easy answers to these sorts of problems, but it does make one pause to consider the bountiful wealth we enjoy without a moment’s thought.

James Watson, co-Nobel laureate for his work on the discovery of DNA fifty years ago, has made some comments that are both funny and thought-provoking. He claims that stupidity is genetic and should be “cured” using gene therapy. While it’s certainly true that intelligence is related to one’s genetic traits, a discussion like this inevitably leads into whether it’s “right” to tamper with the human genome to produce more intelligent people.

The whirlwind of discussion surrounding gengeneering never seems to stop. We have an enormous capability, yet we don’t really understand (or, sometimes, want to understand) the implications and responsibilities that come with it.

Holy cow, I found out there’s another person reading these musings… my friend Mike!

I imagine within a few weeks this site will be like Slashdot and will have millions of readers hopping in for an interesting anecdote with their morning coffee.

Okay, so maybe not.

Hiliarous bumper sticker:

What if the hokey-pokey IS what it’s all about?

I was called for jury duty yesterday morning. I trundled down to the Boulder Courthouse (a place which I’m quite familiar with by now) and went obediently to the Jury Assembly Room. There I was treated to a lovely 20-minute video about my responsibilities as a citizen, the jury process, yada yada. Truly an entertaining experience– look for the video at your local Blockbuster soon.

Anyway, then we went to the courtroom where we were introduced to the District Attorney (Ms. Laskey) and the defendant (Mr. Moore). Apparently Mr. Moore had been driving with a revoked license and was caught. Oops. He had elected to defend himself in this trial, which was probably not the wisest choice on his part.

They picked twelve of the thirty of us (I was not one) and questioned them about their personal status, feelings toward law enforcement, etc. Everyone “passed” I suppose, and then Ms. Laskey asked a few questions of the jurors. She was articulate, well-dressed, and obviously very experienced with this sort of thing. Mr. Moore had his turn, and he asked a rambling question that must’ve gone on for two minutes (after which the juror he had asked said, “huh?”). He was wearing his Broncos sweatshirt and jeans, and was a pretty stark contrast to the DA.

Well, they selected the jurors and everyone else (me included) was allowed to leave. That was that. It might have been interesting to watch the trial, because it’s my opinion that Ms. Laskey was going to chew him up and spit him out… but I had things to do, so I guess I’ll never know how it came out.

So my civic duty is covered for at least one more year. One of these times it might be fun to actually sit on a jury, but for now I’m happy to have only spent the morning.