When I was young we had a poster with some quotations on it on the wall of the loo at my parents’ house. I had forgotten this one until now:
To do is to be
– Nietzsche
To be is to do
– Kant
Do be do be do
– Sinatra
When I was young we had a poster with some quotations on it on the wall of the loo at my parents’ house. I had forgotten this one until now:
To do is to be
– Nietzsche
To be is to do
– Kant
Do be do be do
– Sinatra
Others have written lots of good stuff about the recent discovery that the iPhone keeps a log of your location and that this gets synced to your PC, where it can be found by those who know where to look. Many are shocked by the fact that it is stored in unencrypted form. And it’s not just the iPhone.
Now, personally, I am very pleased to have this information available and am thinking about the best ways to make use of it. I had been considering writing an iPhone app to do exactly this but was concerned about the likely implications to the battery life, so I’m delighted that I don’t need to bother.
Others’ opinions vary widely, however, about how this data might be abused. Some talk about how, because it’s unencrypted, the Feds (or the scary faceless organisation of your choice) could get hold of it if they broke into your home. Well, yes, but they have so many other ways of tracking you – credit cards, speed cameras and of course the triangulation information from your phone company, that breaking into your house seems a bit unnecessary. Others are worried, apparently, that their wives might be able to detect any little deceptions they may wish to keep secret. Such people have the sympathy they deserve.
But the real question for me is why location information causes such concern.
Did you know that Apple also produces another very sinister product? It gathers all your personal secret communications from the cloud and stores it in – gasp! – unencrypted form on your hard disk! It’s called Mail – the email program. And if you fire up Skype, you can look back through those past Skype messages. And iCal will let someone browse your personal appointments!
So, of course, you stop these things by putting passwords on your computer, encrypting your home directory if you’re concerned, or making sure that only people you trust have access to your machine. This is what we’ve always done.
The only shocking thing about this situation is that many people didn’t know that physical location was one of the things that could be traced. For all I know my laptop and phone may keep a history of the MAC addresses of wifi base stations they have connected to, which can also be used to identify location. Does yours? And your email provider probably has a log of the IP addresses from which you’ve connected to pick up your mail, which can also be used to follow your movements. And who knows what someone, including your wife, might be able to deduce if they had a good look at your sat-nav.
I remember a stunned silence at a business breakfast a few months back when I pointed out to the assembled company that Vodafone knew when they broke the speed limit. They’d never thought of that.
Well, now you know.
When I was young, somebody told me, “You should never borrow money for anything smaller than a house.” It was good advice, and ever since, I’ve disliked the idea of spending any money I haven’t yet earned. I drove old bangers, and fixed them myself, until I had the money to buy something better. I’ll only buy a new car now when I have enough money in the bank to pay for it. And I don’t use credit cards.
So I’ve always disliked the idea of graduating students starting their working lives with large amounts of debt, and when student loans first appeared in the UK, just as I was finishing my undergraduate course, I was opposed to them. Twenty years on, Oxford, Cambridge and a large number of other places are likely to be charging the full £9,000 tuition fee next year, and lots of people are up in arms about it, but I find myself feeling rather differently.
I was fortunate to have had a good education, and to have experienced both state comprehensive schools and a fee-paying private school. The teachers, in general, were good, intelligent and dedicated, in both. The students, the facilities, and everybody’s expectations, were rather different.
My parents, being teachers, would have struggled to afford a private education for me, but it was a high priority for them and I was fortunate to win a scholarship which allowed me to have a few more years of it than might otherwise have been possible. And what I really appreciated about life at the private school was that this was a place where learning wasn’t despised by the other kids, where everybody had worked towards at least a basic level of academic achievement to get here, and where everybody knew that daddy was paying a lot for the privilege. Not everybody felt that way, of course, but that was how it struck me. Yes, education should be a right for all, but there is also a large degree to which we value more that for which we have to pay more. Or, to be more precise, that for which we can choose to pay more.
One of the things my father found difficult when he returned from a couple of decades of teaching in Africa was to have students who didn’t really want to learn. He had never encountered that before, in a place where education was a privilege available only to a few…
Now, not having kids, I haven’t followed this recent debate closely, but this is how I try to keep things in perspective:
Arguably, education is one of the few purchases more important than a house. So, perhaps, having to borrow for it is not such a great hardship. Even if you do have to give up your mobile phone in exchange.
Apple Mail handles email signatures quite nicely: you can create several of them, for example, and associate particular ones with particular email accounts, so you’re less likely to mismatch signatures and messages.
But, while Mail is very good at displaying HTML content, it doesn’t offer many facilities for editing it. This is as true of signatures as it is of messages. So if you’d like to customise the signature at the bottom of your messages with anything more than a simple change of font size and colour, you’ll have to jump through a few hoops, and be familiar with editing HTML and CSS.
I’m sure that Status-Q readers have sufficient taste to avoid anything too garish, and sufficient sense to know that those annoying legal disclaimers are largely worthless, so let’s imagine you’re just after a small decoration on your messages like this:
Signatures are stored as .webarchive files in your ~/Library/Mail/Signatures folder.
Update: in more recent versions of Mac OS X, they seem to be in ~/Library/Mail/V2/MailData/Signatures.
You can’t edit these directly, but you can view them in Safari, and use Safari to create them.
So here’s how to do it:
If you want to see what Mail has now done to your signature’s HTML, you can open it in Safari and use View Source, and you can copy this, save it as HTML, edit it to your heart’s content and then convert it again to a webarchive as before.
Remember that email programs vary widely in the HTML they will support or allow in messages, so don’t spend too much time trying to create complex Javascript animations! But you can still do some useful, as well as decorative, things: my normal signature looks like fairly standard contact information, but the postal address is a link to Google maps, the Skype ID is clickable (using a Skype URL), my Twitter and Facebook names will take you to the appropriate pages, and so forth.
I’ve just arrived in Lausanne, Switzerland. It’s late, so I haven’t seen much of the town, though what I have seen looks quite pleasing.
After a busy day, hassles with airport security, a budget flight and a long trudge through dark streets I found the small hotel where I’m spending a couple of nights. The room is basic and appeared somewhat uninspiring, but has just risen several points in my estimation for a very simple reason: I’ve just tried the shower.
In Britain, I have a pet peeve, nay, a hatred, of the snivelling little dribble of water which often emerges from the plumbing in the corner of what would otherwise be a delightful hotel room or a charming chambre in a B&B. Often this is down to a fundamental misunderstanding of basic science on the part of British plumbers and their customers, who install all-electric showers, because they have been sold the fallacy that a few kilowatts is sufficient to heat the water for a shower on the spur of the moment.
Now listen! It ain’t so, people! That’s why there’s a tiny shower head with microscopic holes. It’s so the tablespoon of water that emerges per second can do so with enough velocity that you can actually detect the four jets hitting your scalp. But it’s totally useless for, say, washing shampoo out of your hair, let alone feeling cleaned and reinvigorated after a long journey.
The Americans, fortunately, never embraced such foolishness, partly, I imagine, because at 110v you can’t get enough power down the wires even to pretend to create a shower, but mostly because as a nation they understand that the shower is a great and important invention that restoreth thy soul in time of need, and one should plan its installation accordingly.
Well, it appears that the Swiss not only have trains which are clean, quiet, run on time and have power sockets by every seat, but they also have budget hotel rooms with simple but powerful showers pouring gallons of lovely water onto the heads of weary travellers before they tumble into bed, thus disposing them to think well of the city before they’ve even seen it in daylight.
Brave words, that need to be said.
Using virtual machines on my Mac and Linux computers allows me to fire up a copy of Windows on the very rare occasions when I need it. (Typically about once a quarter). And then shut it down again before anything bad happens.
And then the light of understanding and enlightenment dawned upon me, dear friends, so I share it with you, with apologies for the grammar:
It’s called Windows, because that’s what you should run it in.
There’s a wonderful scene in the movie version of Annie Proulx’s The Shipping News, where Kevin Spacey’s character, Quoyle, is being taught how to be a journalist by Billy, an experienced old hack on the local paper. They are sitting in a car on the Newfoundland coast.
Quoyle: Horizon Fills with Dark Clouds?
Billy: IMMINENT STORM THREATENS VILLAGE!
Quoyle: But what if no storm comes?
Billy: VILLAGE SPARED FROM DEADLY STORM.
I keep wondering whether this is an appropriate analogy for the reporting of the events in Fukushima. As far as we can tell on the best information available, this is not going to be anything like another Chernobyl, but even Chernobyl needs to be kept in proportion.
The worst disaster in the entire nuclear industry resulted in 56 direct deaths; a number comparable to a bad bus crash on a motorway. More serious, of course, were the after-effects of the radiation, and estimates of the effect vary widely, but the most-quoted figure suggests that around 4000 cancer victims can trace their illness back to Chernobyl. This is, of course, a disaster on a major scale, but it is also very close to the number of people who die in coal mines in China each year. The official government statistic in 2004 – a bad year – was 6,027.
I fear that whatever happens in Japan, the impact on the world nuclear industry will be huge, and we will not be seeing many articles contemplating the likely fate of coal miners in the vicinity of a tsunami. Or of what it might mean to oil rigs – we already know what can happen to them even without the help of a massive earthquake.
There’s a simple reason for this not being the line taken by the media: such articles are much less exciting than the headline-grabbing alternatives. I think it was Cory Doctorow who said, “You must never forget the fundamental business model of most newspapers: to deliver large numbers of readers to advertisers”.
We do not know what will happen in Japan – it may prove be a major disaster, or it may – rather literally – just blow over. But if it’s the latter, don’t worry – I bet we’ll still see some good headlines along the lines of Billy’s for quite a while afterwards.
Tuesday is, apparently, International Women’s Day. I was trying to think whether anything could be more silly, and I discover that some people are also trying to promote International Men’s Day later in the year.
So it’s good to know that we have equality in the silliness stakes, at least.
Of course, I may be misreading this. It may be a day when we celebrate women who are especially international. Now that would be more interesting…
P.S. I’m assuming that none of you missed out on TIYOIY…
There are some very strange people in the world. I can say this confidently, because I know there are a few of you who have been reading Status-Q since it first began, and, amazing though it seems to me, that was ten years ago today.
As a child, I often thought about keeping a diary, but was afraid to record my innermost thoughts because I thought someone else might find it and read them. When the web came along, I overcame this by going to the other extreme. Though, really, Status-Q came about when I started writing odd notes for myself, never really expecting anybody else to read them. Now, as time’s winged chariot drives me ever onward, I find it increasingly useful as an aide-memoire: the little search box in the top right corner is ever more handy!
I had, in fact, created a weblog-type-thing rather earlier, in fact – way back in about 1993. It was more of a lab notebook and it ran on a custom web server I had written in Perl, simply as an experiment to see whether you could make web pages that could be modified through the browser. It was only accessible to people on the local network and I didn’t keep it up for long. But in Feb 2001 I registered my first domain and, using Dave Winer’s eccentric but groundbreaking Radio Userland software, I started jotting things down more regularly.
My early posts were brief notes on things like:
To all of you who have made it through the intervening 2000-or-so posts, for whatever misguided reasons of your own, you have my sincere gratitude and respect!
Pretty abstract for me, eh?
There’s an app called ‘Camera for iPad’ which allows your iPhone to be used as a remote camera for an iPad, which doesn’t have a camera of its own. Quite fun. It shows a ‘viewfinder’ on the iPad, so of course I pointed the camera at that.
So this is a view, taken on an iPhone, of a view on an iPad of what an iPhone is seeing when the iPhone camera is pointed at the iPad. The kitchen ceiling light is reflected in the iPad screen.
© Copyright Quentin Stafford-Fraser
Recent Comments