Tablets

I'm not entirely sure what the little phrase tablets pcs is supposed to mean exactly, so I can only assume it's trying to say in a kind of shorthand way something about tablet personal computers, of which there are now umpteen (the Amazon Kindle Fire, for example, pictured at right), if this article in Tech Radar is anything to go by.

The i-Pad is of course the obvious example when anyone thinks about tablets - that is, when anyone else thinks about them.  When I hear the word 'tablet' and 'computer' in connection with each other I think of the tablets that my colleagues at my last job used, which often seemed to be a bit of a nightmare.  (The tablets, not the colleagues, that is.)   If they weren't playing up in some way, they would prefer to do their own thing, often causing havoc for the user (actually that's not unlike my colleagues too - just kidding!).   Yes, of course, part of it was familiarity with the machine, but part of it was also the general quirkiness of these particular versions of the computer. 

One of my colleagues liked to keep her tablet screen on a very small font - I found it practically impossible to read, and don't know how she managed.  Though admittedly she hadn't been wearing glasses since she was eight. 

My daughter has an i-Pad, and once you get used to its systems (which are similar for the most part to the i-Phone, which my wife has had for some time) it's pretty functional. (my grandson, of course, breezes through it).  I quite like the touch screen approach for some aspects of use, though I can't say that tapping out messages one finger at a time onto a screen is really progress, to my way of thinking.  I suspect anyone who touchtypes on an ordinary PC would find the same thing. 

I guess it's all relative.  I've watched a friend of mine who's only recently got his first laptop, and it brings back all the memories of trying to stop the cursor racing all over the screen, or figuring out how to land it on precisely the right spot: things that you do as a matter of course once you've been into the computing world for some time (like about 22 years in my case, with a PC, and even longer with office computers).   You also forget just how intuitive you become when getting used to a new computer or an upgrade.   What in the past would have flummoxed you becomes fairly easy to figure out with two decades of experience. 

Art and Science

I've begun reading Proust was a Neuroscientist by (30-year-old) Jonah Lehrer. The following quote comes near the end of the introduction:

Our current culture subscribes to a very narrow definition of truth. If something can’t be quantified or calculated, then it can’t be true. Because this strict scientific approach has explained so much, we assume that it can explain everything. But every method, even the experimental method, has limits. Take the human mind. Scientists describe our brain in terms of its physical details; they say we are nothing but a loom of electrical cells and synaptic spaces. What science forgets is that this isn’t how we experience the world. (We feel like the ghost, not like the machine.) it is ironic but true: the one reality science cannot reduce is the only reality we will ever know. This is why we need art. By expressing our actual experience, the artist reminds us that our science is incomplete, that no map of matter will ever explain the immateriality of our consciousness.

The moral of this book is that we are made of art and science. We are such stuff as dreams are made on, but we are also just stuff. We now know enough about the brain to realize that is mystery will always remain. Like a work of art, we exceed our materials. Science needs art to frame the mystery, but art needs science so that not everything is a mystery. Neither truth alone is our solution, for our reality exists in plural.

Twitter effectively

Tamara Erickson is a regular writer on the Harvard Business website. In a recent piece called Are You Fun to Follow on Twitter (it's interesting to note that the Yanks don't appear to have heard about the move towards not capitalizing the first letter of each word in a headline) she notes that Twitter can be used effectively if you think about why you're using it. And she's not just talking about businesses - her ideas apply to the personal use of Twitter too.

Here's how she concludes her article:

1. Don't report banal details. Unless you're observing a true breaking news event (and note: this term does not include what you or your child ate for lunch), skip it.
2. Do interpret your experiences. How do they make you feel? What do they mean to you?
3. Do share the oddities you observe. Look for things that seem unusual, out-of-place, surprising.
4. Do share things you love - quotes, phrases, descriptions of events that brought joy to your day.

Slow down, enjoy. Listen to the world's music. Share the best of your experiences, but remember, 140 characters is a unique format — more like poetry or Haiku than news reporting. Using it well requires our thoughtful attention.

[My italics in point number 2]

And here's a curmudgeon on the same topic, from the same site.

Spider and the Fly

A day of new experiences.
I've never been bitten by a spider before, that I know of, and I'm not even sure that I was today. But it seems likely.
I went out into our laundry this morning before work, and noticed a fly buzzing its little heart out because it was caught up in some fluffy spiderweb that was all over the upper area of the window. I don't know when the web had been put there, but I don't think it was longstanding.
Anyway, I grabbed the broom and swept over the window and the web, clearing it all away. Then I went outside, brushed the still buzzing fly off the web, and then carried on clearing away the web from the broom head. And something bit me!
I thought it might have been something sharp amongst the bristles but I've just had another look and it's just bristles - and none of them are sharp pointed. So I can only conclude that it was the spider, which, caught up in my sweeping of the window, was taking its wrath out on me.
My finger didn't balloon up, so obviously the bite wasn't particularly severe, but it stung for a while.

The photo was taken by momboleum. It's her bathroom window, not my laundry...