Too closed to comfort

Tech Life

There’s no denying it: the new 15-inch MacBook Pro with Retina Display is a stunning machine and definitely packed with innovative features — apart from the display itself, just look at the pictures of the inside of the machine. I’m sure that this is the kind of product you complain about the price first, then when you look at it and try it in person, you probably start thinking that perhaps that price is more than adequate, in the end. Some MacBook Air owners are already conflicted, despite the new Pro being certainly bulkier and heavier than an 11- or 13-inch Air. I am positive I’d get one if I could afford it — just for that gorgeous Retina Display. Since I bought an iPhone 4, I’m a firm believer in the benefits of Retina displays. I’m short-sighted and have astigmatism and thanks to the iPhone’s Retina display I can read more and better, my eyes are less strained at the end of the day. And I’ve resisted buying an iPad until it sported a Retina display. 

So yes, the Retina Display is the big deal of the new MacBook Pro. Let’s put it aside for a moment, though, and let’s focus on other things about this new laptop. As soon as I saw it unveiled at the WWDC Keynote, after the display-related ‘Whoa’ moment, my first thought was just like Gruber’s:

The new “next-generation” MacBook Pro with Retina Display is, in short, “Back to the Mac” for hardware. This is an iOS-inspired appliance — battery, RAM, solid state storage — all of it is sealed in a magnificent enclosure. Consider too that it no longer even says “MacBook Pro” on the front of the display. It’s just like an iOS device — a brilliant display surrounded by black glass.

I know this may sound a bit weird, but somehow it’s exactly this what makes me upset about this new machine. Remember: this new MacBook Pro is the shape of things to come. If the trend wasn’t clear enough with the Air, Apple is progressively closing down its machines. I really never had a problem with non user-replaceable batteries, but here we also have a fixed amount of RAM and disk space that either you choose to upgrade via Built-To-Order customisation (paying a handsome price) or you’ll have to live with it throughout the entire life-cycle of the machine. Which, by the way, is being artificially shortened year after year.

The new MacBook Pro also shows some bold design choices that leave me both positively and negatively surprised. This machine had to be thinner and lighter, and in order to accomplish that, some ports had to go (Ethernet, FireWire 800), others had to be modified (MagSafe), and of course goodbye to the optical drive and to the classic hard drive. On one side, I admire Apple’s bluntness, but then again, Apple isn’t new at mercilessly killing technologies considered by now obsolete. Don’t get me wrong, I sympathise with the general attitude: you can’t innovate by constantly looking in the rearview mirror. Yet, I look at this new MacBook Pro, I think of how I use a laptop, and realise that the new MacBook Pro wouldn’t be the best laptop to meet my needs. I would need to buy a Thunderbolt-to-Ethernet Adapter, an external SuperDrive, some kind of video adapter to be able to connect my current external monitor to the Thunderbolt port (and I’m not exactly ready to drop 1,000 Euros for an Apple Thunderbolt display with all that glossiness thrown in my face), and last but not least an external hard drive, because those 256 GB of internal storage are just inadequate. 

In other words, I come from a school of thought that views a laptop as a machine which has to integrate as much as possible (in a reasonable way, of course) to avoid the need to transport a slew of cables and peripherals with it when one’s on the go. In my case, what the new MacBook Pro loses in weight and bulk over past-generation MacBooks and PowerBooks, gains in additional equipment I would be pressed to bring with me most of the times. The purpose of a laptop is being a desktop replacement in a compact package. If I have to pack my bag with a couple of adapters, an external hard drive and Superdrive, well, I’d probably be better off with the 17-inch PowerBook G4 I’m using to write this article. It is heavier, surely, but ultimately more portable in such a context.

I know, my use case is a bit extreme and I’m simply not the target for the new MacBook Pro. Many habits and many pieces of equipment would have to change for me to make this new machine really appealing. But I don’t think I’m that alone in this. I don’t have a problem with ‘closed’ computers per se, I just feel that this new MacBook Pro is a bit too closed for targeting a ‘pro’ audience, at least for now.

Briefly, on the new AirPort Express

Tech Life

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Among the many announcements and hardware updates following the WWDC keynote, there’s also the new AirPort Express base station. Overall, it’s a nice update: now the little base station has two Ethernet ports (WAN and LAN) and the very useful simultaneous dual-band 802.11n connection, which would be perfect for my mixed wireless home network setup, with 802.11n, 802.11g and 802.11b devices all connecting to the same network.

Design-wise, I’m simply disappointed. Sure, now the new AirPort Express shares the same style as the AirPort Extreme, Time Capsule and especially the AppleTV — it basically looks like a white AppleTV. Have you noticed something in the image above? Now the AirPort Express must be placed somewhere on a horizontal surface, because they changed the way the base plugs to get power. Perhaps some people won’t be bothered by the change, but I’ve always thought that one of the best features of the old AirPort Express was that you could just plug it in a wall plug: no cables dangling around, no need to look for horizontal surfaces like a shelf, a small table, etc. This was excellent for cramped spaces or corridors, where you could place a second AirPort Express to extend the Wi-Fi network. Just look again at the old design:

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The new AirPort Express may look cooler and more in line with the current Wi-Fi accessories Apple is offering, but I think that losing the ability to just plug the base anywhere without worrying about cables and surfaces, partially defeats the purpose of this ‘portable’ base station.

I think I’ll just stick to my old couple of AirPort Express 802.11g base stations for now. They’re almost seven years old, and still doing their job.

Never too late to Disco

Software

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Further investigating the recent disc burning problems I encountered on my MacBook Pro (cf. It’s toasted.), I decided to try other burning software applications. While it’s true that you could burn a CD or DVD using Mac OS X system tools like the Finder or Disk Utility, I’ve always been a Toast user since version 3. Toast has been a familiar environment which has managed to maintain a not too complicated user interface as many new features have been added over the years.

So, in my attempt to see whether the problems in burning a disc were hardware-related (faulty optical drives, poor quality discs) or software-related (compatibility issues between Toast Titanium 10 and Mac OS X Lion), I started looking for other apps. I immediately remembered Disco — ah, the power of simplicity in app naming! — and tried it first.

One of the first things I noticed on the app’s website is that Disco is no longer under development, sadly, but the developers have been quite gracious in making Disco a free download (upon first use, just enter the free Licence Name and Serial number provided on the website and you’re good to go).

Judging by the message, evidently a version 2 had been planned.

Another thing I realised is that Disco is much more powerful than I remembered. Perhaps when I checked it the first time I was fooled by the app’s super-simple interface and believed it was one of those single-task ‘droplet’ apps that don’t give you many options to choose from. I won’t list Disco’s many features here: the developers have done an incredibly good job at explaining them all in the website’s main page. What I can tell you is that I used Disco to burn some DVDs with my MacBook Pro’s internal SuperDrive and external LaCie disc burner, and each burning session completed successfully. So, for now, I decided to stick with Disco, which has proven to be an easy-to-use, reliable application, both on my Intel Mac and on my PowerPC Macs.

Why use Disco? Three main reasons

1. User-friendly interface — Disco’s UI is clean and simple, and shows you only the information you need. No cluttered windows, no misleading interface elements. When you launch the app, this is what you get:

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You can organise all the content you need to burn in folders and subfolders, then you just drag all the files/folders and drop them on the app’s main window, and it morphs into this:

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It’s all before your eyes: on the top-left corner you can check the items’ global size; you can give the disc a name by editing the top-center field; while the top-right corner tells you whether there’s a disc inserted in the drive ready to be burnt. When everything’s okay and accounted for, you press Burn and the process will start (you can optionally have the window release digital smoke as Disco burns… try to make some noise towards the Mac’s microphone and see what happens). You’ll also appreciate the detailed verification window after the disc is burnt.

2. Free application + complete set of features = great value — Disco is no longer developed, it’s true, but it still works well and offers a complete, useful set of features. Think about how much other disc burning applications cost. Sure, if you need to burn Blu-ray discs then you’ll have to resort to other alternatives, but if you primarily burn CDs and DVDs and want to use a great free app that’s even simpler than using Disk Utility, then look no further.

3. Universal Binary, low system requirements — Disco is a Universal Binary, and works well with Intel and PowerPC Macs. I’ve tested it on a PowerBook G4 running Mac OS X Leopard (10.5.8) and a MacBook Pro running Mac OS X Lion (10.7.4) and burnt some DVDs without problems. It’s the perfect app if you, like me, still have some vintage Macs around and want to use a disc burning software that’s definitely lighter than Toast Titanium. Disco weighs only 3.4 MB and will work on any Mac with Mac OS X 10.4.3 or higher.

Having an application that works as great under Tiger as it does under Lion is not that frequent, especially considering it only reached version 1.0.3. Give it a try, you won’t be disappointed.

A hands-on assessment of Apple’s Newton MessagePad

Tech Life

On the 20th anniversary of the Newton’s introduction, Harry McCracken has written Apple’s Newton MessagePad PDA at Twenty for TIME, and as a long-time Newton user, I was quite pleased to read an informed, thorough article on the Newton for once. And I appreciate that McCracken — unlike many other who have dismissed the Newton without even trying one properly — actually purchased one second-hand and tried to use it.

Every Newton-related article I’ve read so far, at a certain point, has to propose a theory on how and why the Newton failed. McCracken’s no different, but at least it does so with the professionalism of someone who actually knows what he’s talking about. McCracken is way above certain ‘tech bloggers’ whose knowledge of now-obsoleted products and technologies is limited to a couple of Wikipedia pages.

Still, towards the end of the article (on page 3), there are passages that, instead of making me nod in agreement, made me stop and think and go into my hmmm, let’s see mode.

Along the way, the Newton handwriting recognition got much, much better. That didn’t help enough — which may be a sign that consumers simply aren’t as interested in taking handwritten notes on an electronic device as Apple expected.

[…]

Even back in the 1990s, I remember becoming convinced that Apple was energetically pushing the Newton in the wrong direction. Sheer technological potency wasn’t the problem: Compared to the first model, the final Newton PDA, 1997′s MessagePad 2100, had fifteen times the clockspeed, 90 percent more pixels and more than twelve times as much RAM. It also had vastly better software.

But the 2100 moved the Newton even deeper into tweener territory. It was taller, wider and thicker than the H1000, resulting in an even less pocketable gadget. It started at $1000; the H1000 had been $699. And it still didn’t come standard with the hardware and software you needed to exchange data with a PC.

I believe this last sentence to be incorrect. As you can read on this MessagePad 2000 box, the hardware and software needed to exchange data with a computer were indeed included. But apart from this, McCracken here seems to hint at two reasons that led to the Newton’s failure: 1) handwriting recognition as being perhaps not what customers were really interested in, and 2) bulk. I’m not entirely convinced about that. More on this later.

After Palm’s big-time partners, Radio Shack and Casio, bailed on the Zoomer II, the company retrenched. With almost no resources, it got to work on a PDA that was far smaller, simpler and cheaper than the Zoomer. The new gadget used Graffiti instead of conventional handwriting recognition, and it came with a docking station and software that made syncing calendar and contacts with a PC a breeze.

Palm called its creation the… Taxi. But only briefly. When that moniker turned out to have trademark problems, the company changed the name to Pilot, shortly before the first units went on sale in 1996. Starting at just $299, the Palm Pilot became the phenomenon that the Newton was supposed to be but never was.

Here we have reasons 3) and 4) — poor syncing capabilities (better handled by the Palm Pilot later) and cost.

My observations regarding these four reasons are as follows:

1. Handwriting recognition

I don’t think that using a stylus as a means of inputting text is unappealing per se. The problem of the Newton wasn’t the handwriting recognition itself, at least from NewtonOS 2.x on. After more than 10 years of use, a theory I have been working on is that one major factor crippling the Newton’s success was the lack of instant gratification overall. Here’s what I wrote four years ago in a piece called An important lesson learnt from the Newton:

When the Newton MessagePad was introduced fifteen years ago, it undoubtedly had appeal, but unfortunately gratification was delayed. […] The Newton MessagePad’s main feature, the most advertised, and what indeed still distinguishes it from all other PDAs — handwriting recognition — was not something you could grasp and enjoy instantly. Moreover, in the first Newton models running NewtonOS 1.x, handwriting recognition was worse and still not optimised as in the later MessagePads running NewtonOS 2.x.

The fact that the main feature of the Newton was disappointing in the Instant Gratification department, coupled with the price of the device (certainly not “for the rest of us”, at least in the 1990s), was ironically the main factor in Newton’s commercial failure. And it is indeed a pity: only by using the Newton on a daily basis, only by growing accustomed to it can one appreciate it fully. 

Handwriting recognition on the later Newtons is really good, but to achieve a decent degree of smoothness in the process, patience and a bit of training are required. Not that the Newton wasn’t/isn’t an intuitive device, but it definitely requires some exploring and some warming up to it to get the most rewarding experience.

2. Bulk

A lot of people talking about the Newton have mentioned its size and bulk as a problematic feature, and a cause of its failure, but in my opinion it’s a false problem. When you have a great device, size doesn’t matter that much. So, the Newton MessagePads were not pocketable. Pocketability is desirable in a device, but it’s not all. The iPad isn’t pocketable either and this doesn’t seem to be affecting its success. 

The objection is just round the corner: But have you seen how successful the Palm Pilot line was? And those devices were small, light and pocketable indeed. True, but the Palm Pilot didn’t succeed just because it was small. It succeeded mostly because it was drastically cheaper, because it was simpler, because it mostly focused on meeting a few specific needs instead of being presented as a full-blown handheld computer. (At the time, I remember looking at Newtons, Palm devices and similar ‘personal digital assistants’ in electronics stores, and my first impression is that the Newton felt more like a small computer, giving more freedom of movement to the user, while the Pilot and similar devices felt more like glorified data banks and electronic agendas).

I’ve never had problems with the size, bulk or weight of my Newtons. My Original MessagePad and MessagePad 2100 weigh around 425 and 650 grams respectively. I never have them both with me, but even if I had, it’d be like carrying a couple of paperback books. When I’m not carrying my Newton mobile office, generally either MessagePad fits in a compartment of my suitcase or backpack. When I want to travel light, the 2100 fits perfectly in a small messenger bag I have. Pocketability is a bit overrated, I think, and I’m not saying this because my habits are different. I just look around and see students with bags or backpacks, businesspeople with suitcases or more stylish bags or backpacks. Very rarely have I seen a geek without some kind of bag or similar accessory. Ironically, when I go to a Starbucks, I often see people loaded with crap: laptops, notebooks, iPads, Kindles, iPhones, cameras… These are all devices with overlapping functions and features, but they stuff them in their bags anyway. (An experienced Newton user doesn’t need a pen and a paper notebook. A Newton user who is also a writer, like me, sometimes doesn’t even need a laptop either). We talk a lot about minimalism online, but out there it’s still a different story. Bulk is often frowned upon on paper, then, at the end of the day, it all goes in the bag.

3. Syncing capabilities

The Palm Pilot got a few, crucial things right. McCracken makes the perfect example: syncing calendar and contacts with a PC was certainly more straightforward than on the Newton. Again, as a long-time Newton user, I have the feeling that the Newton and the Palm Pilot demonstrated two very different perspectives towards data syncing. The Newton was conceived as a more independent device. You didn’t really need to transfer contacts and calendars on a computer, because, in the Newton philosophy, you dealt with those things on the Newton itself. What you really needed to do were backups of the data stored on the Newton, exchange files created with Works (the Newton’s ‘office suite’) and install packages, and that is what the Newton Connection Utilities did (NCU is the software needed in order to move information between the computer and your Newton). 

Some time ago I wanted to take a closer look to a Palm Pilot of that era. My friend Brando kindly donated an IBM WorkPad (take a look at my Flickr set), which is a rebadged Palm IIIx device introduced in 1999. He sent it to me complete with docking station, so that it can be connected serially to a PC. It’s indeed a nice little device, but as a Newton user, something that struck me as a big shortcoming in this device was that data isn’t stored permanently. If you’re not careful and let the two AAA batteries run out, when you put fresh ones and restart the device, you’re back to its factory settings and you lose everything you’ve been adding to it (both data and applications). Sure, you connect it to the PC, you try a sync, and if your backup is up-to-date maybe you get everything back, but it’s hardly practical and shows Palm’s different approach in creating these devices, more like satellites to a computer, more ancillary than a Newton. 

4. Cost

I really think cost is one of the most influential factors in the Newton’s failure to achieve commercial success. It was simply too expensive. Coupled with the other factor I mentioned before — delayed gratification — you got impatient users who quickly dismissed the Newton as ‘more trouble than it’s worth’. At that cost (the Original MessagePad’s initial price was $700 in 1993; the more capable MessagePad 2000/2100 cost $950 in 1997) the least users expected was instant gratification and a very gentle learning curve; the gratification the Newton could deliver wasn’t instant enough, and the learning curve not gentle enough. Look at the iPhone and iPad today: people are willing to invest their money because iOS devices are easy to use and instantly pleasing right out of the box.

An update on the Minigrooves project

Et Cetera

On March 15 I officially started my Minigrooves literary project. Describing the nature of the project is simple, and I’ll reiterate by quoting from the foreword I wrote at the time: Minigrooves are portable words, which, like songs, you can carry with you everywhere. They’re miniatures you can read when you have five minutes, when you are between things, places, times. The idea came to me last summer, while I was checking some illustrations made by a young designer. I thought that, despite having never heard about that guy, I could at once realise his talent and what style(s) were influencing him. Similarly, with a musician, I can listen to some of his/her songs and get an immediate feeling. In both cases I can see whether they’re good or not at what they do, and more importantly I can immediately feel if we’re on the same wavelength, so to speak. Then I thought: what is it I’m good at? Well, writing of course. So I realised I could offer something similar. Instead of illustrations or songs, I could publish short, self-contained stories.

An important realisation related to creativity

You should understand that before my interest in technology and before my job as a translator, I am a writer at heart. I started quite early, writing poetry and lyrics for local bands of amateurs when I was 15. And my early writings were in English already, which is not my first language. Prose-wise, my most intense creative period has been the 1990s. During that decade I wrote a short novel, a long one, and dozens of short stories (in English and Italian). Apart from some self-published works, a lot of what I’ve written over the years has remained unpublished. And not for lack of trying. But what can someone with no contacts (or the wrong contacts) in the publishing world do? I sent my stories to well-known and lesser-known publishing houses. I trusted acquaintances with a small selection of my works because they told me they knew someone who could help. I went as far as self-publishing booklets and manually distributing them in the university I was studying at the time. I also did the occasional reading, accompanied by some jazz musician friends. I accomplished very little. The vast majority of people who read my things told me they enjoyed them very much, said that I have talent. I mention this in case some of you who are reading this now think my failure at becoming a renowned writer lies in the poor quality of my work.

Anyway, I experienced a serious creative block around 2002–2003. I’ve been recovering from this block roughly since 2010, when I started writing poetry again. As for short stories, my Minigrooves represent my most serious creative accomplishment in the last fifteen years, but most of all they represent the end of my creative drought. Non-creative people cannot fully grasp the impact an eight-year long drought has on a creative person. Imagine being involved in a horrendous car crash and having to stay immobilised in a cast in a hospital bed for months. Imagine a period of eight years where your creative mind can’t ‘move’ and feels similarly immobilised. It’s awful and it really, really eats at your self-esteem. Then imagine my joy when I felt the wheels moving again at the start of this humble literary project.

The important creative realisation I’m referring to is that — believe it or not — my creativity has returned through discipline. I could have started Minigrooves by opening the website and publishing a new story whenever I wanted, whenever inspiration came knocking at my door. I could have chosen a more leisurely pace. But I have the feeling that, if I did that, now I would be here publishing my second or third story. Instead, by self-imposing such a strict schedule, i.e. a new story each Monday and Thursday, I have noticed how the urgency has stimulated the flow of new ideas for new stories. Over the years, I’ve been thinking that schedules and deadlines were something exclusively work-related, that creativity should be ‘free of boundaries’. I was so wrong.

The feedback

I’ll be sincere with you: the feedback for Minigrooves has been disheartening so far. I don’t have traffic statistics for the tumblelog where the project resides, but 5 Tumblr followers and 22 Twitter followers, combined with the almost complete silence and lack of commentary, all this speaks volumes to me.

It’s not that I was so naïve as to think that it was enough to start the project, spread the word a bit on Twitter and keep people updated every Monday and Thursday to be successful, but I honestly believed my stories were the right format and varied enough to interest different kinds of people, and I also honestly believed people turned out to be a little more supporting. I’m not asking you to do all the hard advertising work for me, but seriously, even a retweet is too much work today? Too much to ask? Even the literal word of mouth (“Hey, you should check the work of this guy I know through Internet, it’s cool”) is too much? I do the same with creatives of various fields (type designers, illustrators, musicians, app developers, etc.) I know or discover — is it really so outrageous of me to ask for the same treatment? Is a writer some sort of second-class creative? Is it because I’m not making you pay for reading (so that free content = cheap quality for you)?

Six weeks ago, I wrote a little reflection about this on Twitter:

I believe that some of my short stories at Minigrooves are rather head-scratching in some places. Receiving next to no feedback can mean: 

  1. My readers are smart, intelligent fellows who don’t need explanations or suggestions. — Which is cool, and means I have an ideal audience.
  2. My readers simply accept the stories as they are, no matter how much they ‘get’ out of them. — Which is okay, but not really rewarding.
  3. My readers would like to ask questions, but then life goes on and they forget and oh well. — Which is understandable but a bit sad.
  4. Almost no one reads my short stories and/or doesn’t care to send any kind of feedback. — Which is disheartening, considering the work.

Let me say it again: I may have closed comments on this site for various reasons, but Minigrooves is a completely different thing. If you read my stories, even if you haven’t read all of them, I’d like a word of feedback, I’d like to know what you enjoyed, if you were taken by surprise by some endings, and so on. You can write me at the email address you find in the footer, or just throw me a tweet at my account @morrick or at the project’s account, @minigrooves. I don’t write these stories only for myself. I write them with an audience in mind. That’s why I really value your feedback — it helps to keep me going.

And I’ll leave it at that, regarding feedback.

The future of Minigrooves

The project won’t go on indefinitely, of course. I am tempted to follow a TV series’ format here. That is, ‘airing’ the stories in ‘seasons’, then publishing the stories as a book (I was thinking of ebook as the only format, publishing my stories on the Kindle store and Apple’s iBookstore, but if I can also strike some deal for publishing them on paper as well, that’d be grand). The books will have some ‘extras’ (just like movies and TV shows’ DVDs/Blu-Ray discs), like bonus stories, author’s commentary and notes, etc. This way, even those who have followed the stories during their ‘airing’ period will find something of value by purchasing the book.

I’ve decided that each ‘season’ will consist of 42 stories, so at the moment we’ve just passed the middle of Season 1. I think it’s a solid publishing plan, but I’m open to suggestions. 

Finally, I wanted to thank all the people who are following the project, reading my stories, and spreading the word. You’re not many, but you’re the best!