Spammers: Morons, or witty truth-tellers?

Adam be one of the first 10,000 to join effluent

Usually I just dump my spam folder with just a very cursory skim, but this caught my eye. "Effluent"? A look at Websters online confirmed my suspicions and my amusement:

Effluent:
[...] An outflow from a sewer or sewage system.

A discharge of liquid waste, as from a factory or nuclear plant.

I never expected to find Truth in spam, but wow, that really DOES fit!

On trivial wonderment

Have you noticed that when you're paying (exorbitantly) at the gas pump with your credit card, the screen ominously flashes: "Insert and remove card quickly"?



I mean, haven't you ever wondered what would happen if you dilly-dallied?



Would you be charged thrice? Would your license plate number be sent to John Ashcroft? Would your cell phone explode?



Conversation Corner regulars Jonas and Ali have contributed some of their own "Everlasting Questions" and I invite you to offer some up, too!



You don't have to register to post, though you get neato benefits if you do (and it's super-fast-'n'-easy, I promise!)

...and how about the Meaning of Life while you're at it?

This morning I received the following unsolicited but non-spam e-mail (sent via my message board), which I feel wholly un-guilty about reposting here in its entirety:

Please help ne understand a little bit of the internet.

As you can imagine, I'm rather baffled about this, and not quite where to start. However, since the sender's domain is "ihavepms.com," I know that I better reply quickly and soothingly and somehow include the words, "You look beautiful, honey, you really do!"



Advice?

Party like it's 1999

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending the Google Dance 2003, and experienced wonderous but surreal feelings of deja vu.

Disclaimer: I have friends who work at Google, and I have interviewed for jobs there in the past.



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Before I describe the Google event, let me fill you in on the weird and wacky events we San Francisco / Silicon Valley peeps were privy to during the heady dot.com days, BC (Before the Crash).



On any given week, there were at least several parties with open bars, free food, lots of dancing, plus large numbers of ambitious, optimistic, and attractive people.



Back then, companies justified the expenditure in several ways:



1) They were gaining branding and awareness.



2) During the days when talented techies were in huge demand but limited supply, it was cheaper to throw big attractive "look at our company!" bashes than pay recruiters to shop for talent. Recruiter fees for 15 techies: Easily $300,000. A huge party for the techies and their friends and their friends of friends? Probably a mere quarter mil... a $50K discount, and a hell of a lot more fun than hiring head hunters.



3) The dot.commers needed to release some steam after working extended long hours.



---



Fast forward to the Google Dance last night.



There were open bars, free food, lots of dancing (duh!), and a huge collection of ambitious, optimistic, and attractive people.



Sound familiar? But unlike the days in which such parties literally overlapped each other, this contemporary Google Dance was a freaky anomaly, and I don't believe it can be "justified" in the same ways as parties of dot.gone. No, it seemed pretty clear that Google threw a massive party to entertain its own employees and simply offer up some good will for everyone else.



I suppose this shouldn't have surprised me. While the rest of the technology sector still seems to be doing more firing than hiring, Google is hiring across nearly all its departments with a vengeance. And Google layoffs or drastic belt-tightening? I haven't ever heard of any of that, have you?



Perhaps this is because Google started off admirably and sensibly frugal (now Froogle) from the beginning. No Aeron chairs. No BMWs for newly hired engineers. No $30,000 signing bonuses. Though admittedly they do have a handful of Segway scooters on the premises :D



Instead, Google generally offers its employees generous albeit not outrageous benefits, and provides a place where folks are encouraged to innovate in a flexible environment. And the corporate culture is fun without being frivolous, it seems. I just learned that every AdWords staffer, for instance, was recently treated to a local Dave Matthews concert.



---



But returning to last night... one of the most noteworthy things that struck me was the sense of joy and exuberance, and not of the irrational sort, either, IMHO. There appeared to be a sort of Joie de vivre amongst the Google staffers that suggests contentment and a sense of security rather than the much less attractive insecure aggressiveness exhibited by more swaggering companies and their employees. The many Googlers I chatted with last night were proud without being arrogant or dismissive; they were friendly, respectful, and clearly happy with their employment.



With the party that they threw, it's no wonder.



In addition to all the stuff I mentioned earlier, the party featured foosball and ping-pong tables, lots of colorful bouncy-balls and lava lamps (Google fixtures), a humungous video screen featuring live feeds from the dance floor as well as live feeds highlighting current Google searches, plus random pulsating graphics. I also got a cool Google t-shirt, the chance to chat one-on-one with a Google engineer about my Web sites, and a $300 AdWords credit!



I definitely went home with a big smile on my face, and I understand even more than before why Google may currently be the Happiest Place On Earth.



---



UPDATE - 8/21/03: Pictures are now available at http://www.google.com/googledance2003/

Where do kids fit on the Internet?

Earlier today, I got an Instant Message out of the blue... from someone who had visited my SmileZone site and noticed the IM address on my contact page.



After brief introductions, I learned that she's nine years old! And surprisingly articulate for such a young kid, too.



She was looking to make friends and have a chat but I, alas, didn't have much time for bantering this afternoon... and at 32, I felt a bit awkward chatting with a nine-year-old anyway.



As politely as I could, I wished her a good day and good luck... but I wasn't prepared for what came next.

"So where can I find people, then? To chat with... make some friends" she asked.



I drew a blank.



The few online chats I've seen tend to be a bit more, ahem, risque than I'd ever want to recommend for a young kid.



And for that matter, I don't think Web sites in the U.S. can even legally collect contact info from under-14-year-olds, and hence I can't imagine there being any pen pal-type sites out there for this girl.



So, aside from just impersonally browsing for information, what does the Internet hold for young kids?



With so many of us adults enjoying the personal aspects of the Internet... networking, sharing ideas, making friends... I'm guessing most of us (at least those of us without kids) never stopped to think about how limited young people are.



I know when I was a young teen and likely even earlier, I didn't have many friends in school. I was too smart... and my social skills hadn't kept pace with my intellect. Back then, there was no grand Internet to connect with, well, nerds like me for commiseration and learning and befriending.



Of course, the Internet today is filled with people of all interests and ages. But where can the kids go? Our American society has been so paranoid about walling them AWAY from any possible scandalous or controversial tidbit (oh no, a breast... oh no, a bad word!) that I don't think we've given much thought to creating places where kids can interact thoughtfully and more-or-less freely.



Perhaps I'm wrong, however, and I'd be delighted to be pointed in the right direction for kid-friendly resources on the Internet.



Do you know of any good sites for young kids?



And what do you think about this situation in general?

Those who can't find history are doomed to get annoyed

Some things in life are just amazingly simple, obvious, and intuitive.



Practically all books nowadays have page numbering; to get to the next page, you simply flip a piece of paper, and voila, you continue reading.



Newspapers can be a bit more complicated, but they at least offer straightfoward information: "Continued on page A17." Sure enough, your fingers trudge you to page A17, and you can finish where you left off. Even most news sites on the Web have a simple "Next page" link at the bottom of each multi-page story.



So why are blogs -- theoretically the next step in communications evolution -- so amazingly backwards when it comes to basic navigation?

You'll notice that my blog has page numbering (along with "next" and "previous" links), but I had to manually add this in myself (using a "plugin")... and I'm betting my blog is among a measly 5% or so in blogland with this mindnumbingly obvious form of navigation.



I mean, come on, blog software developers, this isn't rocket science!



People start reading a blog, continue down the page, and it's not a huge leap of faith to assume that they may want to continue reading more of the blog.



But what are their options with the typical blog? Scroll through the oft insanely long right side panel until they find an archives list with links by week or month... click on such a link... and then realize that, hey, the last entry they read was August 6th, but clicking on the August Archives link forces them to scroll through all the stuff they already read. Many, I'd assume, simply give up in frustration. Or, even before that, they decide that if they missed a blogger's earlier entries, it's simply not worth the hassle to go back and find them.



Is it really asking that much of the blog software developers to offer a wonderfully basic "read more entries" link that'll take readers to the next page of entries?



Are there any common-sense usability folks in the house? At all? Or is the blogging community just content to serve up ephemereal helpings of the 'latest great thing'?

Heated theories from an agnostic

I recently read that the Pope, understandably concerned about the dangerously high temperatures in Europe, has been asking people to pray for rain.



As an admitted agnostic, I can only conclude that one or more of the following must be true:







1) God is or has become terminally clueless.

He's also newspaper- and CNN-averse, and so he isn't aware of pretty major things like heat waves unless enough people politely fill him in.



2) God acts on the Popularity Principle.

He knows about the heat wave and realizes folks are dying and bad stuff like that, but he chooses not to act unless he has a popular mandate. "Hmm... okay, 2,718,666 more prayers and that'll tip the scale. Until then, I'm going back to authoring another sinfully bad Jim Carrey script."



3) God just isn't that concerned.

"Heat waves, schmeat waves," he is perhaps musing, "Anything that gets more French to shower can't be all that bad. And hey, look... my air conditioner company stocks are up! Woo hoo!"



4) God wants to increase tourism to Iceland.

That's pretty self-explanatory. Er, wait a minute... do they actually have tourism there? Or just Bjork concerts?



5) God's hankering for a Pope Regime Change.

"Hmm... maybe if enough bad stuff happens on this guy's watch, they'll instate a new Pope. Maybe even one with a different name. How about Bart? Or Herbert? Hell, why not a hot chick like La Cicciolina? I get kinda tired of seeing John's old fart face every day."



6) We can't program our new VCRs, God can't program his new digi-thermostat.

"Let's see... hold down button C9 while flipping the auxilliary bottom side switch and... oh, crap! That didn't work. Hey, wait, it's stuck! Oh no! Jesus Christ, I could use some help. Yeah, would you take a look at page three of this manual and see if you can help me with the global temp settings? Damn newfangled technology. If this keeps up, I'm gonna cause another dot.com bust, I sure am!"



---



Did I miss any possible theories? Oh yeah. Maybe there isn't a God? Nah, that's just not as entertaining. Unless... unless... maybe it's an international conspiracy of our fair and balanced(tm) liberal media. Maybe there really isn't a heat wave in Europe. It's those damn commie pinko global warming nuts just making things up again...

Adam and his bird-brained anti-pigeon schemes

In an earlier entry, I noted having a pigeon invade my humble apartment. But that was the mere tip of the feathered mess I recently suffered through.

What I neglected to detail at the time was the fact that this pigeon was just one of a three-pigeon family that had taken up residence on my apartment balcony, previously unbeknownst to me or my roommate.



The stubborn (single?) mommy and what appeared to be her equally stubborn children had no intention of giving up their home, despite my increasingly vocal and flailing protestations. When I forcibly shooed them off the balcony, they invariably took up residence in the identical spot a mere hour later, and offered additional "gifts" in disgusting defiance.



What could I do? I mean, something told me that calling the ASPCA would have merely resulted in uproarious guffaws ("Have you tried feeding them bottlecaps? Ha ha ha ha!"), followed by a dialtone.



This wasn't the sort of thing I could confess to my doctor, or even my shrink or Priest (if I had one of either).



---



But soon, I formulated a plan!



I grabbed a glass of water, tip toe'd out onto the balcony and WHOOOOSH! I drenched those pigeons, I did!



My neighbor, who by unfortunate coincidence, happened to be out in front getting the morning paper, found herself the victim of some unnatural rain. I ran back inside quickly. And an hour later, the pigeons -- clearly irritated but with even more steely resolve -- were back.



--



PLAN B



I rummaged in the back of my garage and unveiled a dusty but serviceable Super Soaker 200!



Loading the enormous double-barreled water gun with increasingly gleeful anticipation, I stealthily wandered over to the balcony and -- first checking for potentially retaliatory neighbors -- let loose, Rambo style.



The pigeons were not pleased. And, luckily, they were not stupid, either. They knew they had finally met their match.



One week later, and they have not returned. :-)

New SmileZone blogging section!

I'm very pleased to announce the beginning of a new Blogs and Blogging section on my SmileZone, designed to be interesting and useful for blog newbies and experts alike.



I humbly invite you to check it out :-)

What I have learned (and re-learned) from PiYo

I recently attended my second class in PiYo -- a strange but wonderful mixture of Pilates and Yoga.



Here is what I have learned and what I have been reminded of via my new PiYo journeys:

Stretching is not easy.

This is true in the literal and figurative sense.



From a physical standpoint, stretching is exhausting albeit rewarding work. When I attended my first PiYo class, I casually dropped into the session in my walking shorts and baggy t-shirt, and without a change of clothes. This wasn't like kickboxing, I smugly thought to myself!



Barely 20 minutes into the class, I became nearly suffocated on my sweaty and billowing shirt as I attempted to adopt artful but muscle-challenging poses. Building core strength is as intense as it is important!



Stretching isn't easy from a figurative point of view, either. When I was younger, I became accustomed to being the best at various things... piano, standardized tests, etc., and quickly abandoned anything that I could not easily excel at.



When I first attended Northwestern University, I was hit by the two-by-four of collective talent surrounding me, taunting me, painfully humbling me. And since then I've learned that I must be content to become Better without being Best... or suffer a very unfulfilling and painfully boring life.



---



Soon after I was laid off and right before my 30th birthday, I took up swing dancing. I sucked... badly. I had never delved into dancing before, or really any hobby that required such physical control, skillful balance, and social assertiveness. I almost quit several times, but for some reason, I did not.



I now have more friends, better posture, and, yes, a happier life because I stuck with swing dancing. In particular, I'm proud that I pushed through the challenges even though I knew (and still know) that I will never be a GREAT swing dancer. I will likely never win awards, never be "that dreamy lead" that women swoon over, and so on.



But I've gotten better and I continue to improve, and along with this, my self-confidence has soared. By stretching myself... my skills, my courage, and -- literally -- my body, I have actually become a better person.



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A blank mind is a terribly hard thing to achieve

At the end of each PiYo session, our outstanding instructor has urged us to let our minds and bodies relax and float... free from cluttering thoughts and distractions.



This is much easier said than done. In a seemingly uncontrollable swirl, my mind chatters incessantly:

- Ooooo owwww rrrrrgh... that was hard! Whew!

- Hey, that hottie next to me is sure talented!

- I'm hungry, I wonder what I should make for lunch?

- OUT, damn thoughts! You're not supposed to be here. Shush!!!

- I wish they're turn down the music in the outer studio.

- Hey, our music sounds like Yanni. Yuck!

- I SAID NO MORE THINKING! QUIET!

- Hmm. It's really hard to be thought-free, isn't it?

- Yes, it is. Dang!



This got me to (ouch!) thinking some more afterwards. How do people successfully meditate? How can one affirmatively choose not to think... to be free, just for even one minute, from worries, ideas, curiosity, longing, and randomness?



I know it's possible. At least I hear it's possible.



I want to learn how not to think.



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Face time is the great social lubricator

After my last PiYo class, I struck up a brief conversation with the talented and gorgeous woman next to me. Her last words were, "Keep coming. I'll see you next week!" and she smiled.



I think her encouragement was sincere, and I've learned firsthand that showing up really IS half the battle, not just for acquiring new skills, but for winning the trust and friendship of those around you.



In swing dancing, for instance, I've been increasingly asked to dance by some of the top dancers in the world. It's definitely not because of my looks (or lack thereof), nor due to any dramatic improvement in my dancing.



It's because I'm a regular, and these amazing dancers see my smiling face week after week. Familiarity apparently really does breed comfort.



Same thing for gym classes. Whereas some guys will blatantly bomb out hitting on women at the gym, I've surprisingly found that interesting and attractive women will come up to ME and even ask me for my e-mail address after they've seen me in class over the course of a few months.



Maybe this is not a great revelation. Perhaps I'm sounding especially superficial, especially in the context of an entry about the profound practice of yoga and Pilates.



But at least to me, such insights were not initially obvious. And I must admit to both surprise and gratefulness at the fact that I can stretch my body, my mind, my soul, and my social network all at the same time.



Life may not be easy, but it sure can be wonderful :-)

Sensitivity vs. absurdity

I was reading a fascinating article in Wired.com today, Glove Won't Speak for the Deaf, and what struck me most wasn't the challenges associated with the technology, but the unbelievable 'political correctness' demonstrated by one of the organizations cited.

The article describes a special 'glove' invention that translates a very limited amount of sign language into spoken English, and notes that many deaf people are less than excited about the development for a number of reasons.



Clearly, a 200 word vocabulary could understandably be more frustrating than fulfilling. Even as a hearing person, I can grasp that.



What I cannot fathom, however, is the defiant and almost farcical attitude of the National Association of the Deaf ("NAD"), which complains that this glove is just another means of suggesting that the deaf are somehow disabled.



Call me an insensitive boor, but as a musician and as a rational human being, I think that any organization that defines deafness as "a unique trait, not a deficiency" is more than a bit off its group rocker.



Along the same lines, then, a war veteran who lost an arm in battle now has the 'unique trait' of being an amputee. Or someone who was born without the ability to walk has the 'unique trait' of being stuck in a wheelchair.



Descending into even greater absurdity, the NAD further asserts that parents shouldn't necessarily "view deafness as a disease that needs curing." Wonderful. So if little Johnny is born deaf, let's have the parents encourage this 'unique trait' instead of examining options to cure it.



---



In the noble pursuit of de-marginalizing the handicapped, organizations such as NAD have unfortunately replaced intelligent and thoughtful advocacy with laughable rhetoric that is at best embarrassing, at worst, detrimental to the health and happiness of young people.



Why not simply call it like it is? Deafness IS a disability, which Websters defines as "[...]a physical or mental impairment that interferes with or prevents normal achievement in a particular area."



I believe our society (via public and private endeavors) has an obligation to assist the disabled with job placement... both offering specialized training to deaf people AND persuasive and informative training to current and potential employers. I believe that we should be spending a far greater percentage of our federal budget on research for disease prevention, cure, and care. I believe that every good person -- regardless of ability -- deserves respect and opportunity, not pity.



What I do not believe in, however, is the mindless drivel associated with political correctness. People who can't see are not "differently sensitized" -- they're blind. Obese people are not (necessarily) "bold and beautiful" -- they're fat. People in a wheelchair are not "differently abled" -- they're disabled.



Truth and directness in naming isn't a matter of sensitivity. It's a matter of honesty... and the first step towards effectively and thoughtfully working with a person or a situation.



Oh, and for the record, I'm no stranger to 'unique traits.' I'm short -- not "differently heighted." And you know what? While I do just fine as it is, I sure wouldn't have turned down an offer to be normally-heighted. ;-)

How (not) to impress a woman

Last night while out dancing I had the pleasure of meeting a particularly interesting, talented, and attractive woman. After a lengthy chat, I got up the guts to invite her out for an evening next week, and then proceeded to search through my geeky but serviceable bookbag for a pen.

Finding only a mishmash of non-pen-type things (along with, admittedly, one pen'ish but broken thing), I was about ready to take drastic measures when this woman noticed my Handspring Treo Palm phone.



"That's a Palm Pilot, isn't it?" she asked.



"Er, no," I dumbly argued, "It's actually a Handspring Treo phone but..."



"It has an addressbook, right?" she continued.



"Sure, yeah" I blathered sans clue, "and a Web browser, too, and..."



"Okay, so can't you can put my info in there?"





It's so embarrassing when I've got all that geekiness without the more-useful geek-SMARTS to go along with it!

The music industry doesn't get it - Part #173

I plan on writing up some lengthy commentaries on online music services soon, but for now, let me offer up yet another example of how these services (hamstrung by the truly evil RIAA) are simply not able to deliver happiness to music lovers.

I've become enamored with the wonderful and witty musical, Urinetown and a couple of days ago I logged on to PressPlay -- a legal online music service that I subscribe to -- and downloaded the entire album.



This was, indeed, the second time I had done so, because along with the other dozens of songs I had previously downloaded, my initial Urinetown downloads had stopped working when I upgraded my computer with a new hard drive.



I had contacted PressPlay customer service to ask them why I had to waste my time redownloading all these tracks and why I couldn't simply reactivate my license, and I was simply given the canned spiel, "Thank you so much for your inquiry [blah blah blah bullshit]. You are unable to maintain or share copies of your downloaded music on other hard drives in order to prevent piracy."



Charming. I'm a paying member of this service, yet I'm still treated as a crook. Unsurprising, but still maddening.



Anyway, before going to actually see the Urinetown show live yesterday here in San Francisco, I wanted to share my excitement with a friend in Germany, who wasn't familiar with the music. So, using my portable download credits (available, of course, for an extra fee), I 'unlocked' the Overture to the musical so I could send my friend a copy. From an ethical standpoint, I figured this was no different than inviting a neighbor over to listen to my lawfully purchased track. After all, I wasn't posting the newly-purchased-track up on Kazaa or anything like that.



But of course, it wasn't anywhere near so simple. After downloading the track from me, my friend was prompted to install PressPlay, which (unbenownst to me initially) she did. After all this hoopla, she was told, of course, that she didn't have the proper license to listen to the track.



---



What a crock of horse manure!



Upon futher examining the file, I learned that the dang thing was still wrapped in an obnoxious layer of DRM (Digital Rights [sic] Management)... limiting the number of times I could burn it to a CD, and also, from what I can tell, rendering the track inoperable if I once again upgraded my computer or if my hard drive crashed. And, of course, I'm sure PressPlay would not be so kind as to give me a new license for the damn track I paid for.



---



When will the music industry wise up? We music-lovers want to do the right thing. We respect artists, we respect sound engineers, we aren't the type of folks who go into Wal-mart and steal articles of clothing.



But the music industry forces us to be 'criminals.' You can guess what I did this morning, after all. I went on Kazaa (sue me now, RIAA, I dare you), downloaded the Urinetown Overture, and e-mailed it to my friend in Germany.



I don't give a whit whether that's technically "fair use" or not. I'm sick and tired of spending my time and my money trying to be an honest guy only to be buried under layers and layers of restrictions.



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Is it any wonder that the entertainment industry is so reviled? As countless of others have noted with understandable exasperation, if the RIAA refuses to respect us, its potential customers, we will be both unable and unwilling to respect its perverted version of 'copyright.'