The Interwebs

http://www.outincenterfield.com/blog/2008/04/manny_being_macys.html

Reading the Dictionary?

http://blog.oup.com/2008/04/dictionary-2/

Campaign Fonts

http://campaignstops.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/02/to-the-letter-born/index.html

Response to John

OK, so taking your comment para by para.

1. POD. Yes, you are wrong to assume that POD would produce a less-than-desired bound format. BUT, seen this way, his POD model is even more of a waste than 8.5 x 11 papers would be. So you’d get a book printed to read it, and then throw it away? You’d always have the online version, I assume, to look little things up, but then you’d have another full copy printed if you wanted to read the whole thing again?

The problem with this is Seth Godin’s idea that books still have value as a souvenir. In other words, people will still buy books to remind them of what they read, to own a physical object that associates them with those thoughts, and to show off on their bookshelves. As the linked article points out, “only a souvenir” scares the heck out of publishers. But this Penguin article’s even bleaker, suggesting that the book doesn’t even have souvenir value. And I think it very much does, and we shouldn’t underestimate the power of that.

It also has artifact value. Late in the Apollo program, NASA fought to keep sending men to the moon because they wanted real people to see the real thing to be able to record man’s full impressions and observations. Sending a robot wouldn’t do the trick. This is kind of the inverse of that: if we digitize all of our books, and toss the hard copies (can you imagine tossing a first folio??), you keep only a fraction of the experienceable object that is that book. You throw away the rest of the metonymy. And that isn’t good for research, or for our human experience of the world.

2) Libraries. This is kind of more like the “Everything is Miscellaneous” question. Digital formats will enable different kinds of random browsing and new finds. I’m not so concerned about this.

Office Space

A major change that computers have brought into work life, but one that is rarely discussed, is office furniture arrangement.

Before computers, office desks faced out into the room, toward the door. You walked into your colleague’s office and she was already facing you. You walked into your boss’s office, and he (usually a he then) was already staring at you. If you walk into the big boss’s office (hint: it’s an oval), he’s still staring at you.

That’s because he doesn’t have a computer. There are no nasty cords to hide. I think it’s really all about the cords. Nobody wanted to stare at them or trip over them, so they’ve been hidden in cube corners and back walls. So now we all find ourselves with our back to our cube “doors” and office doors, and people have to cough or something to get our attention and then we wonder how long they were watching us slouch at our computers and play with our hair and maybe pick that piece of spinach out of our teeth. And it’s just not friendly.

But what’s going to happen now that we’re streamlining the hardware? Are we moving toward a time where there will be no cords? If I had my way, I’d just be doing all my computing on my laptop now. No bundles of cords to hide.

Might we live to see the rebirth of the doorward-facing desk?

Music in North Korea

This gave me goosebumps:

The New York Philharmonic was betting that its rendition of the Korean folk song “Arirang” would be the emotional climax to its historic concert here last night. Instead, the audience created a climax of its own.

As orchestra members finished the encore and stood to leave the stage, the crowd of 1,400 clapped more and more loudly. A few of them waved. The Philharmonic’s trombone and trumpet players did, too.

With that spark, the North Koreans burst into cheering and waving, from the front rows to the top balcony. The ovation continued for another five minutes.

Backstage later, some musicians were in tears. The ovation “sent us into orbit,” said music director Lorin Maazel. He said he interpreted the audience as saying, “We understand the gesture of coming here. It could not have been easy for you. We appreciate that you did.”

– Evan Ramstad and Peter Landers for the Wall Street Journal, February 27, 2008.