I wish iTunes had some sort of feature to stop playing after the current album. Here are alphabetical artist transitions that can bring any sort of zone I'm in, focus I have, or enjoyment of mine to a grinding and complete halt.

• Bon Iver to Bone Thugs-N-Harmony—From folksy falsetto to Flowmotion in two seconds flat. The most common and egregious transition.
• The Album Leaf to The Fantastic Mr. Fox soundtrack—Think chill, electronic post-rock. Then think of a hillbilly hoe down.
• Dixie Chicks to DJ Danger Mouse—Their Home album is thoughtful, and slow, and reflective. DJ Danger Mouse is Jay-Z plus the Beatles.
• Explosions in the Sky to Falco—Instrumental post-rock to Rock Me, Amadeus. Oh yeah.
• Radiohead to Rascal Flatts—A very, very swift transition from electronica to embarrassing.
• AC/DC to Alabama—I've never hit this one in day-to-day life as I don't listen much to either. But the thought is downright scary.

23 years ago today, a black sedan pulled into the parking lot of a nondescript brick building. The kind you see everywhere in the suburbs. Built at an indeterminable time between 1975 and 2000, faux columns, concrete stairs. You've seen them before.

The film flickers, the camera shakes, whispers become louder. The driver of the car approaches the rear, passenger-side door. Click. Creak. The camera drops. Now there is talking and shouting.

"It's Joshua!"

"Hold the camera, momma! No, no, take it, Steve!"

Feet shuffle. Nervous pacing becomes spirited jogging. The camera switches to a nausea-inducing view of pavement, but the tape records the laughter and tears and shouts.

You can't plan for moments like this. You think you'll film the whole thing. You think you'll hold the camera steady. But you're kidding yourself.

The moment you meet your child for the first time isn't a moment for planning, composure, and efficiency. It's not a moment that's filmed by Ken Burns and narrated by James Earl Jones. It's a moment filmed by dad and narrated by mom, both raptured a thousand times more than they expected when the back door opens.

The Delivery

This is the story of my birth.

I've watched the film time and time again. I've seen myself delivered from whatever unsure future I faced into the arms of loving and caring parents who wanted nothing more than happiness and success for me.

I've seen the beauty and power of adoption first-hand.

Before I was born, my father was born, in Ireland. Both his mother and father died, and he too was adopted—into the United States. Somehow, some way, out of an Irish orphanage and into a Massachusetts home. Were it not for adoption, I'd never be here.

Before my mother was born, her father was adopted. His mother died, and his father was a drunk who gave his sister away for a bottle of whiskey. Were it not for adoption, I'd never be here.

The Friends

Caroline and I have always had a soft spot for adoption and imagined it was part of our future. And in the last year, we've watched the Seays, the Vogeltanzs, the Joneses, the Lohses and the Hendricks either begin or end the adoption process.

We're beyond grateful to have such wonderful people in our lives—full of love and grace and humility. We believe in them, and we believe in their cause. We believe in their cause because we believe it's our cause and your cause. Adoption matters.

The Plug

Kevin Hendricks recently wrote Addition by Adoption, an hilarious look at adoption, parenting, and life. Kevin is a stand-up guy and a great writer, and he and his wife, Abby, live out what they believe.

So the purposes of this little story and plug are twofold: one, to let you know about what Kevin is doing. And two, if you are considering adoption, I want to buy you a copy. So here's what to do:

Comment here. Say something or another, tell me a story, say you're planning to adopt, tell me why you love Kevin, post your favorite Twitter update of his, anything. Just contribute to this conversation about adoption or Kevin. Then, in an undetermined amount of time, I'll pick two people, comment here to say it's done, and pursue their information.

They'll get a book and a ton of laughs. We'll all get a better world where less children look back to think, "I've never been wanted anywhere."

Efficiency is a friend to business and productivity, but it's an enemy of community. Trust and lasting relationships are built on the belief that the other party values you more than they value themselves.

And in order to truly value others, we set aside our schedules and plans. We let our coffee meetings run to two hours. We spontaneously drive an hour to Sonic. We take an hour on the phone even though we have a thousand other things to do.

If you're trying to keep your community efficient, you're depriving yourselves and those around you. Relationships are inefficient, but they're worth it.

Caroline and I are staying at a hotel in San Diego to get a three-day break from winter in Portland. We fly for nearly free thanks to parents at Delta, I can work from the road, and we scored a great deal on our accommodations on Priceline. Despite the good price, I'd never stay here again, but I'm not going to complain about it.

The guest representative let us know the airport shuttle would arrive in ten minutes, but it took an hour. I have called the front desk multiple times with no answer. Our bed smells like tacky perfume. The sink leaks to the bathroom floor. None of these things are major, but they add up. And, based on my experience as in high school statistics, four problems are not an anomaly, they are systemic.

Dang man, tell them!

I won't mention it. I'm not the complaining type. I tend to eschew conflict where possible, try not to be disruptive, and worry that I'm simply being a pain ¹. I'm having a great time with my wife exploring a new city, and I have better things to do than fight with an underpaid, overworked hotel manager.

But I'll never be back.

This is where it's important to use your own service, personally solicit feedback, get things right the first time, and fix problems before people ever complain. For every guest, customer, or individual who complains, there are plenty who don't. Who you'll never get back. Who are costing you money.

So what? You just got it on Priceline.

Every customer is just as valuable as another. Whether they are providing profit or helping to cut the loss, they're doing you a favor by choosing your organization. Whether they're using Webkit nightly builds or Internet Explorer, they're still a customer. Never become of the mind that one customer is more valuable than another. They're customers, and they're serving you. It's your job to give them the best possible experience.

If you're married to utilitarianism, then think of it this way: You don't know how frequently any given customer will return. You don't know their network and influence. You don't know when and where they'll review your organization. And as a business-owner, you can't afford to take a chance that their impact will be disproportionate to their price point.

Too negative, shut up.

All right, how about this? Same trip story.

My wife and I had lunch at Chick-fil-a here in San Diego. And some friends here in San Diego were so gracious to drive us—us being without a car and all. We ordered lunch for ourselves and friends, and one of the eight total items we ordered was not ready at the same time as the others.

They graciously informed us that they'd bring the sandwich to our table when it was ready. We didn't complain. No big deal. But when they brought it, they brought a coupon for a free meal along with it.

Later in the day, after our friends were gone, we took our coupon, bought two bus passes, and rode 30 minutes back to Chickfila.

Now that is how you proactively address problems and build intense loyalty.

Those of you who know me are likely to know I've been on the job hunt for awhile now. Little was changing for about seven months, and it was getting fairly discouraging. Unfortunately, the temptation to define our value based on external validation is part of the human condition. It just happens. But then, two-weeks-ago happened.

Between Tuesday and Wednesday, I received three job offers. I was on the verge of making my decision Sunday when another organization called to ask me to come in that afternoon for a pitch. Seven months unemployed, I had four people to give a final decision on Monday.

Why I Said That Stuff

This isn't an exercise in hubris. I was obviously unemployable for seven months; I would like to emphasize that. Some days I considered going out and applying for jobs that would have likely rendered me fairly unhappy. It's not fun to watch your wife work her tail off for five months while you freelance, look for jobs, and eat kettle chips.

But in those seven months, I pursued something I love. I tried things. I tried lots of different things. I learned the niche that I learned that I loved within the thing that I learned that I loved. I found people who were amazing at the thing that I learned that I loved and the niche that I learned that I loved within the thing that I learned that I loved.

I read. I worked. I created things to work on when people weren't paying me to work. I thought. I wrote. I thought some more. I tried not to incessantly refresh cnn.com and espn.com. I waitied. I wrote about what I thought and why I thought it.

And then I had the amazing opportunity to say no to three people.

But even more, I had the opportunity to say yes to Qworky.

What I'll be doing

Well, Qworky has a product. It's a product that's going to be a pretty big help to a lot of people. A product I believe in. A product that will have a website as soon as I finish making it. And Qworky has a team. A team of smart guys and girls who really believe in the product, genuinely care about people, and are smart as a whip.

I'll be the QX Developer, which is short for Qworky Experience Developer. I'll be taking their product and helping them make it a dream for you to use. Taking every hurdle possible that's between you and your work and leave it crying in the corner. Helping you get from waking up to doing what you love to not doing what you love and instead doing what you love to do outside of work.

I'll be doing a little freelancing for some time, wrapping up old projects and perhaps starting some new ones. But mostly, I'll be thinking about experiences, which thrills me to no end. I'll leave my nose in articles such as this, this, and this. I'll work from here. And I'll get one of these.

I feel fortunate and inspired that so many people who know me prayed for me, thought of me, connected me with opportunities, and truly cared for me. I feel grateful that I have a wife who worked so hard and waited so patiently while her husband sought his passion.

But most of all, I feel encouraged, and I hope you do too, that hard work, dedication, risks, and dreams still lead to great promise and opportunities. I hope you'll take these words as a challenge and encouragement to find and do whatever you love. To surround yourself with great people. And to live a fuller life.

A lot of folks have been complaining about the lack of multitasking on the iPad¹. And previously, on the iPhone. But they're framing this discussion in the wrong way.

Apple can't do multitasking

For some reason, this is how the debate is framed. "Apple can't figure it out." "The processor isn't powerful enough." "No multitaskz?! Apple FAIL!!11!."

The fundamental issue here isn't that Apple can't figure out how to offer multitasking or can't come up with the technology for it. The technology community keeps having that discussion again and again.

The real issue is that Apple doesn't want multitasking. Apple, like Dave Crenshaw, knows something that most of us are too stubborn to concede. Multitasking causes problems.

Problems? What problems?

For the casual user, multiple simultaneous applications present a paradigm problem. The model is abstracted too much. You have an application, in which you have a window (many times abstracted further by tabs), in which you have the tasks you wish to complete. At any given point, you might have zero windows open or one thousand windows open. Either situation brings confusion.

For the power user, multiple simultaneous applications present a paradigm problem. Too often I end up with this:

Just before I end up with this:

Or I end up with this:

All of which are confusing and irritating situations for me. I can imagine this is only exacerbated if someone is simply a casual computer user or new to computing altogether.

A better way

Apple, however, implicitly proposes a solution.

Allow multitasking. But by making switching applications just as simple as running multiple applications at the same time.

You want to multitask with applications? Just close one, open the other, and the SDK will allow developers to automatically save your state. System-level cut, copy, and paste also mean you can easily transfer text and images between applications.

Now, you no longer have to deal with multiple applications being open, memory being eaten by tasks you're unaware of, or crashes from too many things going on at once.

If each of my applications would open via a simple process in a near-instant, my need for multiple applications would be nearly obliterated.

Not completely though. From time-to-time I need to split windows like this:

And I consider some of my utilities that run in the background as non-negotiables (looking at you Quicksilver, TextExpander, 1Password, and Droplr.)

But you know who doesn't? Your mom. Or the average user.

Apple isn't looking to replace your MacBook Pro. Or your Mac Pro. Perhaps OS 11 will take things in the direction of the iPhone OS, but I hope not, and I doubt it.

What they've done is made a consumer-level machine that removes abstractions. No application/window/tabs/tasks model. No mouse and click model. No desktop metaphor.

It's not a failure. Or a misstep. Or a dealbreaker. It's just not a computer for you and your creative power. But for John Doe, the iPad is the future of computing.

In a link roundup over a month ago, John Nack from Adobe linked thusly:

How to make dotted borders in Photoshop. (Not hard, but we should simplify the process.) [Via]

And on Twitter, he said essentially the same thing, although not in the link roundup context:

How to make dotted borders in Photoshop: http://bit.ly/90bmx7 (Not hard, but we should simplify it.) (via @thinsoldier)

This didn't sit right with me, but I wasn't sure how to communicate what I was feeling. Sitting here today, with who knows what inspiration, it hit me.

In interfaces and systems, you should treat users like they're dumb. In conversations, this should never be the case.

Simplify your experiences, then simplify them some more. Provide simple assistance along the way. Any time users have to ask for help or misunderstand something, that's your fault, not theirs. Your experiences should aim to be intuitive and simple for anyone that you would like to use them.

This trick, shared by Jesse Bennett-Chamberlain, was making the rounds because it was a significant help to Photoshop users. No one at Adobe should write this off as, "not hard." Obviously, it is hard. And that's their problem, not the users'.

Lately, I've been particularly impressed by the idea that actual market saturation is a point much higher than I would anticipate. More simply, the sandbox is a lot bigger than I realized.

I tend to think, "Oh, someone is already doing X, so I need to think of something new." More and more, I'm realizing how wrong I am.

I'm coming to a point where I want to recognize my main competitors as my best contributors.

The iPad Again

I think Microsoft misses the boat here with their reality distortion field around Apple products. I'll include a couple of quotes that come to mind:

Watson claimed that many developers of applications for the iPhone OS–which the iPad uses–are not making money. Developing applications for the iPhone and iPad is expensive, he said, because iPhone OS uses the Objective-C language rather than Microsoft’s more pervasive .NET platform. And Apple’s control over the platform has alienated some people that make software for its products, he said.

Brandon Watson, Microsoft Director of Product Management, on the iPad (via Daring Fireball)

There's no chance that the iPhone is going to get any significant market share. No chance. It's a $500 subsidized item. They may make a lot of money. But if you actually take a look at the 1.3 billion phones that get sold, I'd prefer to have our software in 60% or 70% or 80% of them, than I would to have 2% or 3%, which is what Apple might get.

Steve Ballmer on the iPhone (via Electronista)

I think Microsoft displays an old model of business here. Armchair analysis and hours of watching Mad Men confirm that this practice took hold as marketing and advertising rose to greater prominence with the television. If you could tell everyone why that other brand of adult undergarments was underperforming¹, then they would select your brand by default.

A different, better mindset

But are these really the customers you want? The kind who just blindly believe you that the other guy is less good? And further, in this age where reviews are so accessible, your press release or off-hand public quote carry little value.

Instead, praise innovation. Praise your competitors. Assure your customers that you're excited that the bar is raised and you can't wait to deliver an even better product with these new ideas and some of your own.

There is more than enough room for two creators of operating systems. There is more than enough room for another concrete company, coffee shop, or whatever you're passionate about. But build on the work of your competitors, praise what they're doing, and make yourself better in some way. That's where success lives.

This idea hit me while navigating some sort of phone option choose-your-own-adventure thing:

Have an iPhone application that lets me select my options before calling, then hit a "call" button that goes straight to a human.

Want to go one better?

Allow the user to somehow let you know a favorite artist, perhaps when generating a support ID or upon calling, and generate a Pandora-esque playlist based on their preference as hold music.

And even one more. The best of all:

Have an iPhone application that lets me select my options, tells me an estimated wait time, and allows me to request someone call me when they're available.

These are the little things that make Cody Industries, Unincorporated the best intellectual property distribution organization currently sitting at 45.512013, 122.611064.

Earlier today, Neven Mrgan and John Siracusa were having a little chat about the adequacy of the automatic and manual transmission metaphor making the rounds in the iPad context.

If you don't know Neven¹, he's a bright and kind guy. But given his brightness, he tends to disagree with people online sometimes. Particularly, the aforementioned conversation and the occasional banter with Merlin Mann. And when he disagrees, he wants to keep it nice. So he adds a colon-parenthases emoticon².

Over time, this gets awkward, and it brought me to a simple realization, which I shall call Neven's Law. It can ring true of Twitter, online chatting, and email. Essentially, any digital, written communication:

The appropriateness of a medium is inversely proportional to the number of emoticons necessary in a given discussion.

Now, I appreciate them having these conversations in public so the masses can participate. But now that we have a law, perhaps we can apply it and bump these conversations up to the easiest-possible theater where emoticons are no longer necessary.

Or, we can continue with our emoticons—using them as clues for the audience that, "this would be better said elsewhere." But there you have it. Now go forth with your new knowledge and continue discussing.

:)

The iPad has generated lots of discussion about computing metaphors, computer interactions, and general technology. Of course, there's been plenty of the usual banter as the masses decry the closed platform, the evils of the App Store, the lack of an optical drive, and so on and so forth. That's to be expected of anything worth discussing.

Creation and Consumption

But I'm particularly intrigued at the discussion of creation versus consumption circling around Alex Payne, Joshua Blankenship, Tim Bray, and Peter Kirn. The first two gentlemen, in particular, are men who create things that make me want to a) be better and b) give up because I'll never match them.

Joshua Blankeship had this to say:

But the iPad is not designed to fill my desire to create, it’s mainly designed for me to consume the creations of others. It will change the landscape of personal computing and find its way into the hands of a ridiculous amount of people who are very happy to simply consume. My hands just won’t be among them anytime soon. I have too much creating to do.

He's a careful, caring guy. But I think he goes a bit too far here with his tone towards this machine.

The folks I've seen discussing this are in two fields—design and development. Ten inches of screen real estate and no physical keyboard aren't right for their type of creation. But for other creators, I think this device can really hit the sweet spot; especially at $499. Let's look at a few ways this could help creators:

Types of Creators

Writers. Imagine Ommwriter on this thing, with the physical keyboard dock. You've got a 10-inch machine, capable and portable, that's perfect for writing extended works. Additionally, no multi-tasking has the benefit of no distractions. It's also nice for people who need to create short-form content on the road: bloggers, copywriters, etc.

Photographers and designers. At $499, this would be a great second machine for creatives. Your portfolio, wireframes, sketches, etc. It's portability is key here. As a second machine, you could easily sketch things here as you spoke with a client, giving them visual feedback and brainstorming. And it works anywhere. Whiteboards are gigantic, and laptops are feature-rich. It's certainly a nice-to-have.

Leaders. With iBooks and portability, a device like this can give leaders the flexibility to inspire and challenge others as they go about creating environments and cultures. I know plenty of leaders who love their netbook because it lets them do what they need and create what they need on the go. I'm confident the iPad will only work better for this audience.

Learners. Creators are, by nature, learners. On your person, you can have The Elements of Style, The Elements of Typographic Style, Wikipedia, A Cormac McCarthy novel, your favorite photographer's entire portfolio, and anything else you need. There is a certain paralysis that comes with too much information, but there is also a certain freedom. I'd never be where I am today without the wealth of information made available online and the democratization of knowledge.

The Takeaway

I'm right with the spirit of what some of those before me have said. Creators have to constantly fight the battle of consumption paralysis. And ravenous consumption will inhibit the progress of many would-be creators.

And this device isn't geared for heavy-duty creation. But it can certainly help some people continue creating with more flexibility.

And what of consumption? Everyone consumes; it's inevitable. But it's not up to Apple what you consume. It's up to you.

Someone starts a vision with a vision, a dream, and a passion.

They want to provide quality healthcare to individuals. They want to put financial advice in the hands of young people moving into adulthood. They want to deliver news and opinions to the curious and entrepreneurial reader.

At what point do companies like these stop caring about users? How do these visionaries live with phone systems as daunting and frustrating as navigating across the Atlantic? How do these dreamers accept customer service policies that leave customers shouldering the burden and scrambling?

At some point, the people at the top of companies stop making innovations and start making excuses.

"We provide better service than some of our competitors."

"We're working as quickly as possible to upgrade our network."

"It's because potential customers are ignorant of our value."

Bull. It's because you've lost your way. You used to be passionate and focused on your dream. Now you're focused on your bottom-line, and you've lost your desire for meaning and perfection.

A simple charge

Make it easy for people to use your product or service. Shoulder every possible burden for your consumer. Let them talk to humans instead of machines. Make their interactions with you a pleasure instead of a burden.

Eventually, you just might end up with $40 billion on hand.

What, you want 10 ways? All right.

• Send them email updates instead of making them log in
• Have a human answer your phone line in less than four rings, guaranteed.
• Whenever someone complains, give them something free, and send a hand-written apology letter.
• Pay someone to be in charge of your user experience online. Someone good.
• Let people login to your site with their email address.
• Have your executives answer phone calls and emails personally, for two hours each week.
• Apologize, early and often. Your customers are right, and you're wrong.
• Actively engage in social media. Don't bother with an account if it's not personal or interactive.
• Let users choose a charity to donate 5% of their sale to.
• Give random customers something free. Every 500th customer gets a gift card. Something like that. Don't publicize it, just do it.

These are the things that make your dream a pleasure to use. And when you don't do them, eventually, people find something else that is a pleasure.

1. Need to do

2. Have to do

3. Want to do

In the vein of disappointment, I have another question: Where are you setting your expectations? I think for most of us, the answer to that question is, "too low."

When you're investing in something, or more particular, someone, set your expectations high. You're investing in them because you see potential. And they're allowing you to invest in them because they believe you can cultivate that potential.

When you let them off the hook with half-ass work, you're doing them a disservice. It's easy for us to say, "That's all right, everyone fails sometimes." And there is certainly a time for it to be said. But more often, we should be saying, "Go back and do it better." If you prefer, you can preface it with "Good work."

It might come off as insensitive, but in the end, higher expectations mean better results. Whether you're in the business of creating products, delivering services, or developing individuals, that's a win-win situation.

When it comes to people, expect work, products, and character just a little bit better than you have ever seen from them before.

One of the uses of Twitter I admire most is a delivery vehicle of succinct, well-thought, original content. That being said, I use the the "star" feature pretty often, and I'm convinced I'm in the minority here. (See Twitter's official documentation on the feature.) Whether I'm marking a link to read later, saving a piece of wisdom, or bookmarking a great quip, I'm hitting the star all the time.

That being said, I thought I'd curate my list of curated Twitter updates to post my 13 favorite updates of all-time. Where all-time is equal to the amount of time I have been using Twitter and actively hitting the star. Without further ado, and in no particular order, here are the best of the best:

@scarequotes: Use "login" for the noun, "log in" for the action, and "Loggins" when you're footloose in the danger zone.

—@FakeAPStylebook, Oct 28th, 2009

Can't wait to see 'Where The Wild Things Are.' Not to brag, but I've read the book.

—@badbanana, Sep 20th, 2009

The more things I buy with cash, the more I am punished with useless silver discs filling my pockets.

—@dcurtis, Sep 1st, 2009

Given the public option America chose Taylor Hicks.

—@brianbolter, Aug 18th, 2009

Heading to the Yankees/Red Sox game. The last time I was this excited to go somewhere I was screaming and there was a placenta involved.

—@AinsleyofAttack, Aug 9th, 2009

AP: Florida investigators say a man accused of downloading child porn is blaming his cat. He says the cat jumped on his keyboard.

—@BreakingNews, Aug 7th, 2009

A man is defined not by his thoughts, but by his deeds. Although, in a pinch, the presence of a penis is usually a pretty big tell.

—@bearskinrug, Apr 18th, 2009

If you crave the accessibility of Flash and the raw power of Dreamweaver, Adobe Air's just over here eating paint chips and watching Barney.

—@hotdogsladies, Apr 17th, 2009

In a moment of clarity, I realize that emptying the lint trap is in essence throwing out my clothes very slowly.

—@nevenmrgan, Feb 16th, 2009

Now that's a different story. Clearly, Michael Jackson's doctor is now King of Pop until somebody murders him.

—@badbanana, Aug 24th, 2009

you can tell a person's character simply by the amount of grace they extend to others.

—@hardlynormal, Apr 26th, 2009

Sometimes, out of a sense of almost curious contempt, I'll point my space heater at my refrigerator.

—@rainnwilson, Apr 26th, 2009

Hippos are one of Africa's most deadly mammals. If one shows up at your door, keep a cool head and give it every marble you own.

—@bearskinrug, May 20th, 2009

If this thing sounds like something you're interested in, you should also check out Tweeteorites. Essentially, it's a service that lets you know who's starring the things you say as well as what your friends are starring. Kind of a neat little way to let your friends effortlessly curate Twitter for you.

Disappointment is a byproduct of unmet expectations.

Always. So when you're feeling disappointed, ask yourself two questions:

• What expectations were communicated that went unmet?
• What expectations were assumed, although never communicated?

And when you're feeling angry, sad, or irritated? Ask yourself if what you actually are is disappointed.

The New York Times reported today that The New York Times will begin charging users for online access after viewing a yet-to-be-determined number of free articles.

A quick Twitter search for "new york times" yields 15 first-page results—8 of which are negative reactions to this idea. (How's that for a scientific way of determining the pulse of the nation? Move over Anderson Cooper, I'm an iReporter.)

From the article about the plan:

But executives of The New York Times Company said they could not yet answer fundamental questions about the plan, like how much it would cost or what the limit would be on free reading. They stressed that the amount of free access could change with time, in response to economic conditions and reader demand.

First, the good

The idea of a fluctuating amount is great. I think this conveys trust in your brand and encourages constant interaction. It invites users to continually check your price and lets them know that you're being sensitive to their needs and current events. Kind of important for a paper.

And the idea of charging is good. You can't run your business at a loss. The internet is growing up, the dot-com bubble has bursted, re-inflated, and re-bursted. Let's find ways to monetize this thing or go back to working at the mill.

But then, the bad

I don't buy the idea that the problem is the payment. My parents' generation has been paying for newspapers since they were delivered by wooly mammoths. And the type of people who are interested in what the NYT has to say are the type of people who are willing to pay for it. Just because Facebook and Twitter are free doesn't mean everyone in the 18-25 demographic will never pay for anything again¹.

I'd posit that their "fundamental questions" are wrong. If I land on an NYT page asking me to pay for the content, do you know what's easier? Going back to Google and looking for the same thing on the Atlanta Journal Constitution or the Wall Street Journal. And do you know what's easier than logging in to read news? Not logging in to read news.

How they are going to solve this problem is the real question.

Glad you asked

For news, the initial shock of a login system and the inconvenience of it are simply too much. And I see two options for success.

One. If the New York Times can succeed in this new world, it might require they develop a renewed voice and a stronger tribe.

The readers who define the NYT and the Wall Street Journal are getting old. They're going in to that last two-thirds of their life that we call "retirement."

These monolithic newspaper companies are now competing with fast, nimble organizations that aren't in the newspaper printing business. They're not even necessarily in the news business. Think Fast Company, 37 Signals, and The Huffington Post. Then think of the thousands of speciality-sites killing it in their own industry. For free².

You can try and compete with each of these in your traditional newspaper sections—technology, world, local, etc. Or you can try and compete with Alltop as an idea-aggregator. But either way, kick the notion that you're competing with the other local or national papers.

Wherever you decide to go, if you're going to charge, and if people are going to pay, you can't go on as you are.

Two. Eliminate the interface barriers.

• Develop the best damn news-delivery interface the world has ever seen. (Perhaps along the lines of the Times Skimmer?)
• Somehow beat Twitter for speed and the aforementioned "new competitors" for quality.
• Find a way to make login painless, or better, unnecessary. Err on the side of accidentally giving someone free access instead of accidentally making someone login.
• Convince your audience that your site is the single best place for them to get news, and never disappoint them when they come to you looking for something.

I frankly don't know if solution two is possible. And in the end, surviving as a company might mean narrowing your focus, developing your voice, and accepting smaller revenues. People will pay, but ad revenue will shrink, and circulation will narrow. This is less-than-ideal for a business whose job is to increase revenue, but it's markedly better than bankruptcy.

Recently, I feel like I've been witness to a few too many ideas passing me by. Not passing me by for a lack of merit or an innate implausibility, but passing me by because my passion wanes.

I'm still wrestling with whether this is simply the nature of ideas or I rested on my laurels for too long. And I don't think it's an answer that will come easily.

But the point remains. In language that Steven Pressfield would approve of: when you've put yourself in the right position, and the muse is ready to touch you, you'd better be ready to throw everything else aside and chase her. She won't last long.

Jason Fried of 37 Signals said the same thing much more eloquently in 2009 (excuse the huge quote wall, but it's that good):

Inspiration is perishable. We all have ideas, and once you have the idea, the idea is sort of immortal. It lives on forever; it goes on forever. The idea exists, even if it's just in your head or you write it down, it's happened. But what isn't going to last forever is your inspiration for that idea. Inspirations are like fresh fruit, like milk—they have an expiration date, and they don't last very long.

If you happen to be lucky enough and fortunate enough to be inspired to do something, you've got to do it right now because every day you go, it gets browner and browner and deader and starts to rot and goes away. Inspiration is perishable, you can not hang on to it. So if you find something you want to do, you've just got to go out and do it.

If you're in the business of creating, you'd better be ready to move quick. Nothing gold can stay.

Recently, I wrote of two kinds of value, particularly with regards to the things we consume. But there's something that defines us much more than the things we consume. And that's how we spend our time.

And here, we make the same fundamental error as with the things we buy. We look to pack as may things as possible into our days, no matter the cost. We're looking at creating the densest possible days.

There's nothing I could add to this article, but I'll leave you with a quote on your way to read it.

You could fill any arbitrary number of hours with what feels to be productive work. Between e-mail, and crucial web surfing, and to-do lists that, in the age of David Allen, grow to lengths that rival the bible, there is always something you could be doing. At some point, however, you have to put a stake in the ground and say: I know I have a never-ending stream of work, but this is when I’m going to face it. If you don’t, you’ll let this work push you around like a bully. It will force you into tiring, inefficient schedules, and you’ll end up more stressed and no more accomplished.

Great leaders are generous. Not as a marketing ploy. Not as a bait-and-switch tactic. Not because they're rich and have nothing better to do with their money. A story will better illustrate why. ¹

A generous man

One of the most skilled leaders I know is a man you'll likely never meet or read about in a leadership magazine. He owns a mechanical services company in Fayetteville, Georgia. Each year, he throws a Christmas party for all his employees, current and former, and their families. He lives modestly and gives luxuriously. Particularly, I want to tell you what he did for me one spring afternoon.

I was preparing for a short-term trip to Africa—3 months during the summer of 2006. I was also raising support (no negligible amount) for said trip, and as this man was a neighbor, friend, and former employer, he received a letter asking for financial support.

He contacted me to let me know he had something for me and told me he'd look for a time he was free to get together. Eventually, that time came. He called to ask me if I'd have a few hours in the afternoon. Eagerly, I obliged (and surely canceled any plans I might've had).

He lives about 200 yards from my parents, so I was a bit surprised to see him pull up in his truck that afternoon. He invited me to hop in, and he let me know we were going to run an errand together. Next stop, Lowe's.

As it turns out, a family from their church had a relative who was recently involved in a car accident. She survived, but with a drastically altered life as a quadriplegic. Our errand was to pick up a generator and deliver it to their family so the devices critical to her survival would continue to function in the event of a power outage.

It wasn't simply a give-and-run experience, either. We spent time laughing and talking with their family—hearing stories of the past and dreams for the future. And on the way out, they gave me the full tour of all this man had already done for them. Building a new deck that was wheelchair-friendly and covered. Converting the front door and patio to accomodate wheelchair access. Bringing meals over for their entire family. His generosity was staggering.

On our way home, he gave me a check that covered half of my entire trip.

But why generosity?

When leading others towards a just goal, a leader sets vision and direction, then empowers followers to act freely. Leaders generally don't make their investment in people with goals wildly different from their own, and they usually invest only where they see potential. Their generous investment delivers two things: resources and permission.

It's easy to see that financial generosity gives a recipient the means to move towards a common goal. What's not so obvious is the permission granted by the giving of time or attention. As a leader invests this way in others, she implicitly communicates that the other party deserves her most important resource. In turn, that person is naturally challenged to steward this investment wisely and push harder towards their shared goal.

For me, this investment reminded me that generosity is an essential part of being fully alive and bringing the Kingdom of God to earth. And I learned that generosity isn't an action, but a lifestyle. For his employees, annual Christmas parties are reminders of their value and potential. They actually mean something in his company, and their continued work is appreciated and valued.

Great leaders understand that they are leading people. Whole people. And they will never succeed in achieving goals without the generosity that empowers their co-laborers.

What are you leading others towards? And are you empowering them through your own generosity?²

Sharing often becomes something akin to seeking identity in the act of being heard—as if the things we write and make and share have no worth until someone places worth on them by responding.

Joshua Blankenship, On The Entitlement Baggage of Social Media (and Human Nature)

Before you pursue business opportunities, ask yourself this question:

Do I want to be a serial entrepreneur, investing where I see short-term opportunity, and using the ensuing windfall to fund my passions? Or do I want to build a brand, pursuing my passions directly as a long-term opportunity?

Neither is better than the other (see Richard Branson and Steve Jobs), but deciding early will help you avoid plenty of growing pains.

I think our internal value-meters are a bit dull these days. As we face a host of options and products daily, the simplest heuristic is to spread our time and money as thinly as possible. If we buy the most things at the least cost, then surely we will be met with satisfaction.

This is quantitative value.

On quantitative value

Recently, I've struggled with the ideas of value and density. Marketing trends tell us the two are synonymous. I think the difference is subtle, but its implications are far-reaching.

Just because McDonalds offers more beef per dollar does not make it the better value. Simply because one person can quote a project at a lower number does not make them the better value. In a program, more features for less money does not always equate to a better value.

Too often, we view value as quantity ÷ cost, or density.

A better way

Sure, quantitative value is simple, but it's short-sighted. We should actually be calculating quality ÷ cost. Quality is messy. It's inexact. It's not quantity. So too often we default to quantity.

Quality is how the new car purchase will hold up in ten years. It's about asking yourself what your goals and values are, then determining whether a purchase leads you towards said goals and values.

Quantitive value only involves a cursory understanding of the product. Qualitive value involves a meticulous understand of yourself.

By now, you've surely heard of Clients From Hell. If not, go ahead and read some of the stories, then come back here.

At first glance, it's funny. You might laugh for awhile as you flip through the stories. But at some point, you should likely come to the following question: Why are these designers so arrogant and condescending towards their clients?

I'll tell you why

Clients generally don't understand the web. They don't know well enough to know that giving away a Canon 5D Mark II is a good way to get traffic on Twitter. And they don't know well enough to know that this traffic is cheap and won't get them anywhere in the long run. They just did a complete 360-degree turn without knowing it happened.

The things they're asking for—dogs chasing the cursor on a screen, seventeen different fonts on a page, MySpace sites for kids aged 1-5—aren't indicative of the fact that they're glaring idiots. (Some exceptions naturally apply.) They're indicative of people coming to you, trustingly, to help them in a medium they don't understand. They're looking to command attention in a space where they're not sure how to achieve that goal.

The real problem

So here's a little nugget of information for designers, myself included from time to time: The problem isn't that your clients are complete morons, the problem is that you're a complete asshole.

Treat your clients as humans—humans that you can help. They have dreams and goals and aspirations, and they're asking for you to partner with them, to help them in this world of 0s and 1s and usability and standards and nerds. A world they don't understand, but you do.

The real issue is that, for whatever reasons, designers tend to feel we're part of some select aristocracy, doing the masses a service by relating with them. We're short-tempered, impatient, unhelpful, and condescending. Not all, and not always. But many, and often.

And rather than trying to kindly help those who don't understand, we scuttle off to our cyber-nerd-rooms to make them the punch line of our jokes. Real easy to say when you hide behind your IP address or avatar, isn't it?

A simple manifesto

Whether I'm designing, dreaming, planning, chatting or other-ing—online or off, I'll treat others like they're real, human people. People who deserve love and respect. And I hope you'll do the same.¹

100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000

Number of two-dollar-bills necessary at the height of Zimbabwe's hyperinflation necessary to match the value of one two-dollar-bill in 1978. (via Kottke)

The main reason why — to the amazement of many of my colleagues — TV is still such a tremendously popular medium is that no web site beats the speed of the remote control. No screen design can match the high drive of flipping through physical paper. The same can be said for radios. It’s just simpler to switch on the radio and scroll through stations than preparing your iPod. In terms of speed, traditional interfaces are still the benchmark for web designers.

People started using Twitter and Facebook for direct messages instead of E-mail because they require less physical manipulations to send a message. Future web designers will focus less on surface design but on speeding up processes by cutting reducing physical manipulations. The best way to learn about speedy interfaces is to study everyday interfaces as doorknobs, drawers, shampoo bottles. Web designers need to learn more from traditional product designers.

—Information Architects on What's Next in Web Design

As is usually the case from IA, the entire article is a pleasure and a challenge to read if you care about where the web is headed. It's a very compelling argument that the only way to freedom and success is through even more standardization.

Our generation is high on creativity, but low on perseverance.

—Eugene Cho at The Idea Camp Pacific Northwest

Google Voice is pretty exciting in theory. One number to rule them all, archived and searchable SMS, voicemails stored as text, recording conversations, different rules for different contact groups. You've got to admit, those are some incredible features.

One of it's hilarious downfalls, however, is its inadequate transcription mechanism. I don't know of any better services out there, and it might be a lost cause, but Google Voice gives you some hilariously bad transcripts of voicemails.

Here are my three favorites, and I'd love to hear any bad experiences you have in the comments:

"...was just calling to you to give you some feedback on that because I need. Whatever it was. They, and, half, Jake, I have them. P F T files level of the web."

"Hey Josh, Chris over at springing just checking in with you. See if this is see if y'all had side. Whether you're gonna do the Do, The, The, The, pronounce that you wanted."

"I'm calling you a little trucks that way because I'm actually heading back to Atlanta and I'm analyst you think it's Chris, It's a for a wedding tomorrow right now. I, I. Anyways, and I got you."

Those are mine. Let's hear your horrible transcripts.

• 7: The Blind Side (trailer)
• 6: Up in the Air (trailer)
• 5: Up (trailer)
• 4: Moon (trailer)
• 3: Where the Wild Things Are (trailer)
• 2: The Hurt Locker (trailer)
• 1: The Fantastic Mr. Fox (trailer)

Warning: Here be nerdery and hackery that will be more valuable to future Googlers than most who would occasionally read these thoughts. Also, a Mac and Transmit by Panic are here used.¹

Recently, Jeff Atwood ran into a problem. His site, Coding Horror, suffered a catastrophic and complete data loss. Everything was lost—entries, photos, databases, you name it. For anyone who runs a site, this is a problem. He was able to recover most of his data from loyal readers, Google's cache, and his own, sparse backups.

But most of us don't have the benefit of devout followers making backups of our sites so they can read them offline, print copies to line their mattress with and save us in case of an emergency. So this is what I do, server side²:

• Set up two folders at the root (one level above the document root, which is likely public_html) of my server: one for database backups and the other for entire site backups.
• Create two files at the root of my server: one with a script to back up my site and another with a script to back up my databases.
• Run each of these via cron (so they'll run on their own, once per day, at a specified time) at odd times during off-peak hours—say, the first at 2:37am and the second at 3:06am.

At this point, we've got a compressed file in the format of /backup/daynumber.tar.gz (i.e. /backup/30.tar.gz or /backup/14.tar.gz). So naturally, as we circle around to a new month, files are overwritten to save space. So you've got 30 days of backups for your entire site and for your databases, right there. But they're still on the server, which is vulnerable to spilled soup, mean people and the terrorists. So let's move them local.

• Create two folders on my personal computer: one for database backups and the other for entire site backups. (Sound familiar?)
• Create a Transmit favorite to connect directly to each of the folders on your server, and name them something simple. ("DB Backups" and "Site Backups" for me.)
• Fire up Automator, and in Library > Internet, choose "Synchronize Files" next to the little Transmit icon.
• Choose my Transmit favorite of database backups, set the sync direction to "Download," sync method to "Update," and the appropriate local folder as my "Local path."
• Save the workflow as a file somewhere memorable and repeat the process for entire site backups.
• Create a new iCal event with an alarm sometime after your daily server backup mentioned above.
• For the alarm action, choose "Open file," and select your Automator workflow for database backups. Create a second event and alarm for entire site backups.

Then, in 10 rather convoluted and confusing steps, you'll have an email alert each morning to let you know if you backed up successfully. I also changed the subject of the email it sends me to let me know whether it succeeded or failed, and I have Gmail automatically archive successes so only failures get through to my inbox.

So that's that. I'll open comments on this article as well so anyone can add, subtract or call me an idiot. Oh, also, I'd love to hear anything different you're doing with other setups.

Great leaders are grateful. Some of the men and women in my life (many without any online presence to link to, so this certainly isn't a technological point) who have influenced me the most share a common characteristic: they're incredibly gracious and appreciative. They affirm. They give. They thank.

But why?

Great leaders appreciate the investment of others, which helped them get where they are. They're not hopelessly nostalgic, but they're insightful enough to know they couldn't have gotten here alone. They're grateful for the muses on their journey. Great leaders are also famously prescient. They understand what's coming, and they're grateful for those that will help them get there.

But more than anything, great leaders understand people. Before delivering a new product, moving a non-profit towards viability, or beginning a new venture, they understand humanity—needs, desires, feelings. Understanding those things, they deliver products or services that meet needs or desires, and the most successful leaders deliver experiences with positive feelings. The truly astute know their co-laborers, peers, superiors, and team members have the same needs, desires, and feelings as their consumers. And they know their praise, in whatever form it comes, fuels them towards a common mission.

And when you grasp that, this naturally follows: in the long term, unless you're grateful, you'll never be successful.

Editor's Note: Somehow I missed that I originally posted this as 5 Albums to Remember From the 90s. The error was sever, and we at joshuacody.net extend our most sincere apologies. And a tip o' the hat to Jeff Goins for the help.

Recently, Neven Mrgan and Paul Armstrong have both posted their best-of-the-decate music lists, and as I'd been thinking of doing my own for awhile, I figured I'd throw my hat in the ring as well. Neven makes a great point:

I don’t trust my brain. Sure, it keeps me vertical most of the time, it tells me when I’m hungry, and I let it take care of the water bill. But ask it what my favorite music of the last decade was, and you’ll get a lot of hogwash comprising a neat mix of popular tunes, obscure concept albums, and hipster honor badges.

Nonetheless, I'm not going to go the iTunes most-played route. It's not an accurate representation of what I listened to on various other devices and compact discs in the last 10 years. Oh, and bear in mind, I was a 12-year-old when this decade began. It should go without saying that my list will be backloaded, unless you want albums like Chumbawumba's Tubthumping.

Without further ado, with brief explanations appended, my favorite albums of the aughts.

Copeland—Beneath Medicine Tree

Written during a particularly grueling period in lead singer Aaron Marsh's life, Beneath Medicine Tree deals extensively with hospitals, pain, and death. But at the end of it all, hope remains. Songs on this album pulled me through both the hospitalization of family members and the angst of late-teen romance. (And when you're a teenager, it's hard to tell which is worse.) Here's one particular verse that served as the anthem for plenty of walks in downtown Atlanta with myself and Caroline:

Through the night
We were waiting for a sign
Maybe rendered in the darkened sky
Drawn by imaginary lines
Connecting radiant points of light
(please don't go)
Cause you showed up with your hair down
I might not sleep tonight

The National—Boxer

This one wouldn't likely make any other best-of-the-decade lists. Most folks wouldn't even consider it the best album by The National. But, for me, there's something beautiful and dark about "Fake Empire" that reminds me of a very particular season in my life. Even more, standing at a particular place and thinking a particular thing. The tone of the entire album is sheer perfection for a summer night in the city.

Brand New—The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me

If you hadn't noticed by the title, this is a difficult album. I'll quote effusively to prove my point:

I used to be such a burning example,
I used to be so original.
I used to care, I was being cared for.
Made sure I showed it to those that I love.

I used to sleep without a single stir,
'Cause I was about my father's work.

Well take me out tonight,
This ship of fools I'm on will sink.
A millstone around my neck,
Be my breath, there's nothing I wouldn't give.

I used to pray like God was listening.
I used to make my parents proud.
I was the glue that kept my friends together,
Now they don't talk and we don't go out.

I used to know the name of every person I'd kissed.
Now I made this bed and I can't fall asleep in it.

No album of the decade so powerfully captured the human condition and the problem of evil. It drags you through the death of a seven-year-old girl at the hands of a drunk driver, the loss of innocence, and failed relationships. Even redemption is framed as fear and hopelessness:

I know you're coming in the night like a thief
But I've had some time, O Lord, to hone my lying technique
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust
But I'm scared I'll get scared and I swear I'll try to nail you back up

So do you think that we could work out a sign So I'll know it's you and that it's over so I won't even try

Unfortunately, The Devil and God Are Raging Inside of Me reflects life for all of us at some time or another. Certainly not the most enjoyable album of the decade, but definitely the most sobering.

Explosions in the Sky—The Earth is Not a Cold, Dead Place

If you know me (no, really know me), then you are aware of my musical shortcomings. If you do not know me, then you should know, I have musical shortcomings. And not just any. We're talking borderline amusia here. So it's no small feat that the entire instrumental The Earth is Not a Cold, Dead Place was able to impress me. I'd love to give more effusive praise for its melody, pitch, instrumentation, and musical perfection, but I'll leave that to people with two fully-functional ears.

The Decemberists—Picaresque

Picaresque is a literati's musical dream. It's Candide set to music, the perfect example of a picaresque. You'll learn words you never knew you never knew (hat tip to last decade's Pocahontas) and get wrapped up in eleven beautiful acts that make up a nearly-perfect whole. My favorite story of the album climaxes thusly:

Meet me on my vast veranda
My sweet, untouched Miranda
And while the seagulls are crying
We fall but our souls are flying

And each of the eleven songs are equally epic and perfect.

"If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter."

—Attributed to T.S. Eliot, Blaise Pascal, Mark Twain, Cicero, Ben Franklin, Robert Sayre, Douglas McArthur, and friends. Seems most likely a translation of Blaise Pascal.

Around a year ago, Kevin Hendricks posted a simple question on Twitter asking for recommendations of methods to back up your Twitter updates. He wanted an automatic and local solution—a man wise enough to realize users don't make backups when they have to put thought into it (cf. Apple's Time Machine).

Aptly, I can't find his question today. And since I couldn't find that, I built this.

Essentially, it cycles through my Twitter updates every 10 minutes, stores any new information in a database, then displays that information in a searchable manner. Nothing too fancy.

But let's talk more about why.

A slight rant on search and pagination

Looking for Kevin's year-old update exposes the shortcomings of Twitter's history.

Twitter's own search function has only a 10-day memory. Alternately, I could paginate through his last 3200 updates, which they allow access to. Twitter's AJAX pagination, however, makes this experience fall somewhere between a headache and a disaster. The feature [sic] means the page doesn't have to reload when you click "more," but it also means that the URL contains no clue to where in the search results you are.

For example's sake, navigate to a user's page. Mine will do just fine. Now say you have hit "more" 100 times, which means a single page holds 2,000 results. But the URL still reads as http://twitter.com/jpcody. And should you navigate away, experience a browser crash, or accidentally hit the "Back" button of your browser, all your clicking and scrolling is lost. When you return to the page, you only get the 20 most recent updates for said user.

Then you cuss, your children hear, they repeat the words at school, and Twitter has landed you back in the principal's office.

So you built this just to search?

Not completely, although that's certainly a part of it. It is nice to be able to simply search "allanwhite" when I'm looking for something I remember saying to him back in September.

More importantly, I built it because Twitter doesn't exactly have a sparkling track record. Not even within the last week. And I don't trust my data in their hands.

Jeff Atwood recently experienced a nearly entire loss of his site, Coding Horror, and had this to say in its wake:

Don't rely on your host or anyone else to back up your important data. Do it yourself. If you aren't personally responsible for your own backups, they are effectively not happening.

Not to be a doomsayer, but Twitter could die. It's part of life for any service, bird, or application. There are malicious people out there with fast computers and an appetite for destruction. There are also brain farts, server errors, and lacks in foresight. It's just life on the internet.

Least of all, it's fun to be able to easily navigate to my first musings and see what I was saying back then. At this point, I haven't hit the magical number of 3200, so I could retrieve all of my updates (and still link to them on Twitter, should I choose). And now, my first 3200 will be stored on my own server, so even when I pass this upper-limit, I'll be able to access them at http://joshuacody.net/twitter.

(And, my server space and databases are backed up nightly to my personal machine, which is backed up to rotating hard drives, so I can really, really keep my data.)

All this for some stupid Twitter updates?

Yes, with a caveat.

Most people are guilty of a hasty generalization with Twitter. It's still commonly assumed that it's a place to "type what you ate for breakfast." (This fallacy comes in other packages as well, but it's the one tossed about most often.)

But I don't view it as such.

Twitter is a big corner of my online life where I store drafts of ideas, links to things I love, and snapshots of moments in time.

It's where I've learned the most about editing, the power of brevity, and the real-world value of sharing information. I can look back through my corner and see where I was a year ago—the things I was linking to, the way I was writing, or the pictures I was uploading. I can see where I was wrong and what I would do differently. And yeah, I've even said things that, to me, were wise enough or clever enough to keep.

The future

I'm thinking and brainstorming of ways to make this available to other folks. If it's something that'd be useful to you, then please follow me and retweet the following message:

I'm kidding. But let me know on Twitter or via email, and if it's something enough folks are interested in, I'll put some time and effort there.

As an enduring nostalgist, this New York Times Piece affected me deeply. Tim Krieder examines middle-age and its accompanying feelings of helplessness. I read a lot of myself here, from his comically poignant views on children:

Most of my married friends now have children, the rewards of which appear to be exclusively intangible and, like the mysteries of some gnostic sect, incommunicable to outsiders. In fact it seems from the outside as if these people have joined a dubious cult: they claim to be much happier and more fulfilled than ever before, even though they live in conditions of appalling filth and degradation, deprived of the most basic freedoms and dignity, and owe unquestioning obedience to a capricious and demented master.

I have never even idly thought for a single passing second that it might make my life nicer to have a small, rude, incontinent person follow me around screaming and making me buy them stuff for the rest of my life.

to his deeply sobering thoughts on eternity and reflection:

The problem is, we only get one chance at this, with no do-overs. Life is, in effect, a non-repeatable experiment with no control. In his novel about marriage, “Light Years,” James Salter writes: “For whatever we do, even whatever we do not do prevents us from doing its opposite. Acts demolish their alternatives, that is the paradox.” Watching our peers’ lives is the closest we can come to a glimpse of the parallel universes in which we didn’t ruin that relationship years ago, or got that job we applied for, or got on that plane after all. It’s tempting to read other people’s lives as cautionary fables or repudiations of our own.

Pursuing the delicate balance of judicious reflection and healthy perspective is difficult at best. My failures at achieving peace make me thankful and hopeful that, while we get no do-overs, this life is only the prelude. And it doesn't quite feel like home and peace and comfort and perfection because it's not. That's the hope that keeps the troubles of the world at bay.

You'll surely find yourself more fulfilled by Evan Williams' explanation than my own. Read on at your own peril.

A quick primer on a new feature

Twitter recently implemented a new "retweet" feature. They've created a system where a User A can click "retweet" when viewing User B's message. Then, all who follow User A will see User B's status update in their own timelines, displayed thusly:

So you get:

• An unknown avatar
• A little icon (that feels pretty out-of-place to Twitter's aesthetic)
• A line break plus appended, "Retweeted by [user]"

Pitchforks are ready, and heads must roll

This is true of mostly any major feature change. And I don't think the complainers are without reason. Here are some of the leading arguments against the new feature (partially drawn from this post and partially from various other arguments aggregated over time):

• Who is this person in my stream?!
• But I want to add some context!
• People should know it came from me!
• What was wrong with the way it was?

Whoa, guys! Wait a second!

I should begin by saying I am not a big fan of "retweeting." Occasionally, it's certainly warranted, but for some folks, it's like Twitter crack. They just can't stop. Come up with something to say of your own, and if someone else has enough good things to say, suggest to your Twitter crowd that they follow that person.

That being said, let's take a look at some of the arguments against the new implementation, and let's work last to first.

Lots of folks are missing the way it was, which is all right. But creating an official protocol for this function allows for all sorts of applications—mobile, web, and desktop—to access it via the API and creates a more uniform experience for Twitter users. Additionally, redundancy issues abound. In the search feature, you can end up with the whole search query filled by messages prepended with "RT @username", and in your own timeline, five people might post the same update. And some people thought it'd be fun to take a crap in the sandbox. They figured out they could have people follow them, retweet some message a thousand times and win a neat prize. They got high-volume, low-value followers and empty mentions, and we got a broken Twitter.

It's hard to argue against native support. Many people would give me this point, but they're still up in arms about the implementation.

The loudest grumbles come in the form of users complaining that strangers are popping up in their timeline, and this offends on two fronts: the first, it is confusing, and the second, it's not immediately obvious who second-hand shared the update. I think this could definitely be done a little bit better. A mockup of one thing I think would improve the system is below.

This would use the search-style reply images to display who did the retweeting.

I'd find this a bit of an improvement, but I do think the current, official system is better than the old system. The way things were, credit for the original poster was little-to-none. A small text-link that was subconsciously dismissed due to the prepended "RT @." Individuals coming up with content worth being shared deserve more credit than this. They deserve for their original content to be seen in its original format—next to their avatar, prepended by their username.

In unofficial retweet syntax, all of the credit goes to the one who re-posted the original message. And that's not right. (I will reiterate that I realize the original poster received a text link, but due to the frequency of the syntax, most of the time I found myself subliminally discarding this opening information.)

But, wait! You want to add context, too! Thus, you get about six thousand of these in your timeline as people look at add "context" and keep it under 140 characters:

RT @username blah blah blah blah blah // WOW! lolzzz!

—or—

RT @username I wnt 2 th str & thnk I sw Jn Gsslin frm Jn&Kt+8! | kewl!

This isn't always the case, and sometimes people can add great context with limited characters. But do you want to really add context? Begin your message with "re: http://j.mp/link", linking to the original post and having 120 characters for real, thorough context.

C'mon, put the pitchfork down.

It's certainly not perfect, and the implementation has a ways to go. But it's a heck of a lot better than the old madness.

I haven't covered all of the complaints, and perhaps I've missed some glaring ones, but I think proper attribution and minimizing redundancy can trump any argument I could imagine.

My biggest complaint? It's not very easy to mute a compulsive retweeter. It's possible without too much clicking around, but it's certainly not readily obvious.

And I certainly plan to use it for those using the new feature gratuitously.

★★★★★

Simply put, it's the best movie I've seen this year. Brilliantly written, directed, and designed, The Hurt Locker strikes the perfect blend of pure adrenaline and introspection. It's a far cry from the feeble-minded and heavy-handed attempts to demonize or glorify the Iraq War, opting to take an honest look at the psychological effects—good, bad, and necessary—of modern warfare.

The story follows Sergeant William James (played by Jeremy Renner) through his tour in Iraq as a member of a U.S. Army Explosive Ordnance Disposal unit. He's sharp-witted, loyal, courageous, reckless, and everything in between, and Renner's performance captures his complexity perfectly—a refreshing break from the flat characters of so many war movies. Sergeant James focuses on neither past nor future; instead, he spends the movie being, and director Kathryn Bigelow slowly reveals his depth. This is the crux of the entire movie, and the plot serves only to slowly disclose James to us, and in turn, the difficult lives of men like him. (And the possibly more difficult lives of those surrounding them.)

For me, its only shortcoming was sloppy and forced dialogue in a small handful of scenes. This was nothing more than a blip on the radar. Nitpicking.

All in all, the movie riveted me for 128 minutes, and I left exhausted and contemplative. You can't merely watch The Hurt Locker, looking for escape or a catharsis. You participate in it, and you leave thankful for those you love and deeply concerned about the flawed human condition.

Fake Steve Jobs weighed in on the recent issue of a Foxconn employee committing suicide after losing a fourth-generation iPhone prototype:

We all know that there's no [REDACTED] way in the world we should have microwave ovens and refrigerators and TV sets and everything else at the prices we're paying for them. There's no way we get all this stuff and everything is done fair and square and everyone gets treated right. No way. And don't be confused -- what we're talking about here is our way of life. Our standard of living. You want to "fix things in China," well, it's gonna cost you. Because everything you own, it's all done on the backs of millions of poor people whose lives are so awful you can't even begin to imagine them, people who will do anything to get a life that is a tiny bit better than the shitty one they were born into, people who get exploited and treated like shit and, in the worst of all cases, pay with their lives.

(via Daring Fireball)

Pinboard bills itself as "antisocial bookmarking." By default, all your bookmarks are private, it doesn't have a design worth sharing (it's not dissimilar from Wrong Tomorrow, another site by Maciej Ceglowski) and built-in sharing features are pretty minimal. Oh, and it's not free. That brings forward one big question: What's so great about Pinboard?

Speed

When you visit the page, three elements are given obvious visual precedence: the brand, the main navigation, and the time it took for the page to load. The current page I'm on? 0.044 seconds, or 44 milliseconds. So what's the difference between .044 seconds and one second? And why would a company make this their third most-weighted design element?

One study, from The Human Oriented Technology Lab suggests that your visitors judge your site in 50 milliseconds, or 1/20th of a second. Obviously, visitors aren't leaving your site if you're not ready within that 50 millisecond threshold, and this is only one study. But it does show the importance of speed and time—revealing that we have less time than we think to impress.

Prefer to speak revenue? BlinkList.com made an improvement of a few milliseconds, and they saw their revenue jump 25%. Speed matters.

The Cost

I'm not sure exactly how Pinboard got their idea for what to charge for their service (Although some insight is given. It was apparently conceived by Joshua Schachter, previously of Del.icio.us, but I may be interpreting this Twitter update incorrectly.), but here is how it breaks down: total number of users * $.001 is what you pay . As of now, it's $4.84, which means 4,84[0-9] people have signed up for the service, if I'm correct. I believe the average amount they have paid is half of $4.84, which would be $2.42, which is around $11,724 for the developer. That's a pretty good boost towards development. But a rich developer isn't the only reason charging like this is such a great idea.

• It slows growth. Some services grow too fast, and they just can't handle the server loads and difficulties of a growing business. Twitter was a good example of this, although they seem to have made it through their growing pains.
• It values early adopters. It makes the barrier of entry lower for the people who are likely to give better feedback, be more involved and spread the word about your product.
• It discourages unintended use. Ask Metafilter charges users a $5 one-time signup fee, and it's mostly a spam-free thriving community. It's amazing what a small barrier-to-entry can do to zap a spambot.
• It keeps out advertising. I place a lot of value on my attention, and if I can shave seconds and manage my focus more effectively, I'll gladly drop a few bones to do so.

All in all, this small fee provides a boost to development and will make Pinboard a vastly improved product. It's surprising to me the number of people who won't pay a fee of less than a fast food meal for an application, program, or service that they'll use day-in and day-out. This is pretty essential capitalism—if something is worth it, then pay for it. The world will be a better place for it.

And A Little More

Speed is undoubtedly the most important interface priority, but beyond that, there are a few other niceties. Clean URLs, AJAX goodness and pure simplicity make the interface a pleasure.

Outside of the visual interface, the idea of implementing a "to read" permatag is great. So often I want to mark something to read later, and it just permeates my bookmarks indefinitely.

And don't miss out on the copywriting. It's pithy, clever, and wonderful—complete with little shots at Ma.gnolia and Del.icio.us, if you can find them. The features roadmap is insightful, and the developer group is responsive and helpful.

But It's Not All Peachy

It's certainly a new service, and it shows in their interface. Some things are nonsensical or lacking as far as what you'd hope in using the service.That said, here are my gripes, mostly interface-related, as I feel the feature set is pretty satisfactory:

• There's no way to toggle views between private and public items. And the private/public delineator next to your username is disconnected from any context to suggest meaning.
• Bulk editing is weak at best, handled only by the burdensome process of bulk starring, loading a new page, and then editing. Tons of room for improvement here.
• Settings are pretty text-heavy. The majority of the information is irrelevant to to the average user and could be revealed only when necessary, but I'm nitpicking here.
• Hover behavior needs a little attention. When hovering on a star, you get a cursor rather than pointer, and when hovering on any other link, you get nothing. This would make a big difference in usability.

All in all, I'd give the service a heavy recommendation. And you can check out my bookmarks on your way to signing up.

Cardon Copy, takes the vernacular of self-distributed fliers and tear-offs we have all seen in our neighborhoods. It involves hijacking these unconsidered fliers and redesigning them, over powering their message with a new visual language. I then replace the original with the redesign in its authentic environment.

A noble exercise, but one idsgn commenter aptly noted:

A cool idea, but I am afraid the missing cat signs (specifically) would backfire. There is a visceral, human urgency in handmade/unprofessional signs asking for help. A stylized presentation would make the average passerby skeptical and therefore less likely to help.

I think something like this is more desirable as a design practice than an actual stealing and replacing of work. I would be more likely to think this was a design project than an actual plea.