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!

It’s toasted.

Software

The mandatory foreword: I’m just reporting what happened to me and I don’t have the pretence to pass my anecdotal findings as data, so take this with the proverbial grain of salt. On a personal level, this experience has been rather interesting… and time-wasting.

I don’t burn CDs and DVDs with the same frequency I used to. My usage of optical media, however, is far from insignificant. I still burn discs for photo and video backups, to watch stuff on my big screen TV, and to pass files to older Macs. Along with the internal Matshita SuperDrive of my MacBook Pro, I also own an external USB LaCie DVD burner like this one I purchased a few years back when my main machine was still a PowerBook G4 12″ with a Combo Drive. 

In all my disc burning history, I very rarely experienced failures. If I had to venture an estimate, I’d say I’ve had to throw away, like, ten DVDs in more than 12 years. Well, I’ve thrown away ten DVD-RW and two DVD+R discs in the last week. 

My burning problems (no pun intended) roughly started at the end of last year, after upgrading to Lion. It’s been hard to pinpoint a precise cause, because different burning sessions have yielded different results. Is it Lion’s fault? Has my MacBook Pro’s internal SuperDrive started to fail? Has my external DVD burner started to fail as well? Is it the software used to burn discs? Or what?

At first I thought my MacBook Pro’s SuperDrive was failing. I’ve been using it rather often since I bought the Mac in mid-2009, and Apple’s internal SuperDrives are not known for their durability. What led me to believe it was the SuperDrive’s fault was its increased distaste for reading discs, both commercial DVDs (movies) and CDs/DVDs I burnt with that same drive two or three years ago. But after cleaning the SuperDrive’s lens with an appropriate cleaner kit, everything was back to normal. At least, for reading discs. Burning them was another matter.

These past days I needed to burn some DVDs, making a few redundant copies of my 2011 photo archive. So I opened a 10-pack of TDK branded DVD-RW discs and a 5‑pack of TDK branded DVD+R discs. I started with the latter pack. I’ve never had problems with TDK discs, or with the SuperDrive, or with Roxio Toast Titanium. I burnt the first DVD+R, everything seemed fine upon writing, but the disc failed the verification with an error reading a certain sector. Second attempt, with a DVD-RW disc, same hardware/software combination. Same error. Erase the disc, try again with the external drive. Same error. Erase the disc, try again using Disk Utility. Burning failed during writing.

As I was getting frustrated already by the whole business (which, on a good day, it would have taken me 5 minutes per disc), I went to Roxio’s website to check something, because I started suspecting some incompatibility between Toast 10 and Mac OS X Lion. It turns out I was right. If you upgraded to Toast 10 while you were using Snow Leopard and forgot to keep Toast updated, you may still be using an earlier version than 10.0.9. As this page on Roxio’s site informs, if you’re on Lion, either you upgrade to Toast 11, or you install version 10.0.9 for Toast 10. Earlier versions don’t work properly with Lion.

I went back to my copy of Toast 10 and, indeed, I was still using version 10.0.6. So I promptly updated to 10.0.9, attempted to burn the DVD-RW disc again, but it failed, both using the MacBook Pro’s internal SuperDrive and the external LaCie DVD burner. At this point I was starting to look at the discs themselves suspiciously, so instead of erasing the same DVD-RW disc as before, I used another from the 10-pack. No joy. I then tried a DVD+R from the 5‑pack. No joy. I tried a different brand, pulling out an old 2x DVD+RW Verbatim disc, but to no avail.

I was about to give up for good, blaming basically everything, but perhaps Lion especially, since all problems started — directly or indirectly — after the upgrade. I couldn’t do any other attempt with different hardware because none of my other Macs has an internal SuperDrive with DVD burning capabilities… Then I remembered that the PowerBook G4 17″ that has been recently donated to me does have such SuperDrive. So I installed my older copy of Toast 8 Titanium on the PowerBook, picked the same TDK branded DVD-RW disc I used before, and it was a success right from the start. I then burnt six more DVDs with the PowerBook G4 17″ internal SuperDrive, and everything went well without the slightest hiccup.

What to make of this messy situation? I don’t really know. As I said before, it’s hard to give clear-cut answers because I honestly didn’t find a constant point of failure. The overall impression I’m left with is that Toast 10 + Mac OS X Lion (10.7.4) make for a crappy combination, and Toast 8 + Mac OS X Leopard (10.5.8) on a PowerPC G4 look like the winning team. I guess that, as burning optical media becomes an art of the past, I’ll have to use hardware/software combinations of the past as well. As soon as I have some time (and blank DVDs to spare) I want to try different software solutions, like NTI Dragon Burn or Disco (which is free now), and report any interesting findings to make a proper comparison. In the meantime, feel free to write me and share your experiences, if you’ve been having more problems at burning DVDs since upgrading to Lion, the software you’re using, etc. Everything helps to clear matters in this regard.

It’s time to criticise the champ

Handpicked

Guy English’s blog is in a folder in my RSS feed reader called “SPWSWM”, that stands for “Smart People Who Should Write More”. His most recent piece — Three Things That Should Trouble Apple — really deserves your full attention. Guy shares my exact feelings when he writes:

I believe that many Apple observers have been too invested in picking off the low hanging fruit of obviously out-of-touch commentators, columnists, and analysts. Apple is winning. It’s fun to pick on the idiots, and we do tune in for the affirmation that engenders, but that’s not insight. It’s a tag team wedgie patrol. It takes a clever intellect to dismantle bullshit but, ultimately, it often just ends up with pantsing the dumb guy. Rather than doing that let’s aim to pants the A‑grade quarterback.

I agree with him on everything, especially regarding iTunes:

iTunes is dead. But it’s still the big play. Microsoft became trapped in the Windows legacy and now, it appears, that Apple is becoming trapped into the iTunes legacy. How is it possible to make a radical transformation, with regards to media management, on the majority of iOS devices without addressing the the train-wreck that is iTunes?

iCloud is a start. But it can’t yet carry all the water.

There are indications that iTunes as the hub is losing favour. As it should be. iTunes was a terrific app ten years ago, but today, it has absorbed too much functionality that there has to be a rethink. 

I’ve been criticising the bloated-ness of iTunes since version 8, more or less. I’ve been jokingly calling it ‘Apple’s very own MS Word’ for its progressive feature creep. I’ve often played armchair-designer with iTunes, asking myself how I would rethink it if I had the daunting task of redesigning it. The first obvious thing that comes to mind is splitting iTunes into different, smaller, sleeker applications, each taking care of major tasks like managing music, managing books/audiobooks and managing apps and iOS devices. Then I thought that maybe some people, despite iTunes’ shortcomings, still prefer having just one application running instead of three separate ones, but on the other hand iOS’s aesthetics are increasingly getting everyone used to this kind of separation. 

Or maybe Apple could maintain iTunes as a single application but remove a lot of visual clutter and make users feel it’s a lighter application. For instance, when it’s used just as a media player, iTunes’ interface could morph into a simpler one, showing only media-player-related features. 

Whatever the approach, it’s undeniable that iTunes is in bad need of a change.