Wednesday, October 22, 2003
AO(H YOU BASTARDS)L: I've been casting darting, suspicious looks at a tin container that came in the mail during the day. Metal boxes of its size remind me of Altoids, so in spite of the fact that it clearly says "TRY ALL-NEW AOL" on the outside, I always hope against hope that they've put some mints in as an added incentive to not throw it away unopened. Somehow, "Antivirus Protection Included" just doesn't fire my imagination as much as "FREE MINT". I'd even take that flat, cardboard-like chewing gum they used to pack with trading cards.
I always open it like the sucker I truly am, and it's always a crappy CD with the latest version of America Online, which I swore off after a brief peek several years ago, along with a few scraps of paper to sell me on the AOL idea again. I think I was put off by the idea that everything is represented by big shiny buttons, nothing but well-lit and clearly marked streets, whereas raw Internet has that element, but also has innumerable sideroads which can be a destination in and of themselves. Not everything is worth visiting more than once--the Something Awful "Awful Site of the Day" brings stinky evidence of that every day--but in theory, everything is as easy to find as everything else if you have the right entry point.
As important as that is, AOL also removed me from the gears and the tweaks that I get into. The Internet, when you break it down, is a collection of interconnected transfer protocols, a whirring mass of partially exposed gears, motors, and pulleys hooked together in a hodgepodge that somehow does what you want it to (most of the time). AOL is a hermetically sealed box; the only things that get into the system are what's put in at the head end. The raw Internet is the for the online equivalent of people who like to customize cars; AOL and MSN are for people who never look under the hood. Some of them would probably rather not pump their own gas if they had a choice, but that's their call.
In short, AOL wants to hold my hand everywhere I go, while I feel I can cross the street my own damn self.
There's a place for both groups, of course, but people who train themselves in a variety of approaches to information are more likely to find what they need than those who stick to a strict, enforced itinerary. When their preferred path chokes, the first group can figure out a detour; the second just keeps clicking that same button and watching the beach ball roll around in vain. The second group has some smart people in it, to be sure, but it's usually group #1 who figures out how to slip around the institutional firewalls of repressive governments to make the average tech do above average things. It's not something everybody has to know, but it's comforting that somebody can.
Back to the issue of the CD-ROM in the tin box, I think puttting that thing in a sheath of metal is a waste of resources for something I'm just going to throw away. That might be their plan to get me to not throw it away ("HEY! IT'S IN A BOX! IT'S REAL SOFTWARE, DUMBASS!"), but as always in a case like this, I can tell a plastic flower from a real one.
I always open it like the sucker I truly am, and it's always a crappy CD with the latest version of America Online, which I swore off after a brief peek several years ago, along with a few scraps of paper to sell me on the AOL idea again. I think I was put off by the idea that everything is represented by big shiny buttons, nothing but well-lit and clearly marked streets, whereas raw Internet has that element, but also has innumerable sideroads which can be a destination in and of themselves. Not everything is worth visiting more than once--the Something Awful "Awful Site of the Day" brings stinky evidence of that every day--but in theory, everything is as easy to find as everything else if you have the right entry point.
As important as that is, AOL also removed me from the gears and the tweaks that I get into. The Internet, when you break it down, is a collection of interconnected transfer protocols, a whirring mass of partially exposed gears, motors, and pulleys hooked together in a hodgepodge that somehow does what you want it to (most of the time). AOL is a hermetically sealed box; the only things that get into the system are what's put in at the head end. The raw Internet is the for the online equivalent of people who like to customize cars; AOL and MSN are for people who never look under the hood. Some of them would probably rather not pump their own gas if they had a choice, but that's their call.
In short, AOL wants to hold my hand everywhere I go, while I feel I can cross the street my own damn self.
There's a place for both groups, of course, but people who train themselves in a variety of approaches to information are more likely to find what they need than those who stick to a strict, enforced itinerary. When their preferred path chokes, the first group can figure out a detour; the second just keeps clicking that same button and watching the beach ball roll around in vain. The second group has some smart people in it, to be sure, but it's usually group #1 who figures out how to slip around the institutional firewalls of repressive governments to make the average tech do above average things. It's not something everybody has to know, but it's comforting that somebody can.
Back to the issue of the CD-ROM in the tin box, I think puttting that thing in a sheath of metal is a waste of resources for something I'm just going to throw away. That might be their plan to get me to not throw it away ("HEY! IT'S IN A BOX! IT'S REAL SOFTWARE, DUMBASS!"), but as always in a case like this, I can tell a plastic flower from a real one.
|| Eric 5:52 PM#
