Like many parents, Rosanna and I are concerned about our kids’ obsession with “technology”, so we tried “tech free Saturdays”, and it worked for about an hour (I — more than slightly ironically — spent that hour with the girls playing with an Elenco electronics set — something far better than the “150-in-one” electronics kit I dreamed of when I was a kid), and then gave up. Short of getting exercise outdoors — which while almost certainly a Good Thing To Do is hardly something of which I am an examplar — what was there to do without “technology”?
I don’t pretend to know what stuff is going to be important to the success of my kids. A lot of the stuff I learned in school has turned out to be useful, or at least makes for interesting conversation (apparently, most people forget almost everything they learned in school, and — having had no interest in it when they were 14, find it intriguing as adults). But the most useful stuff I learned as a kid is the stuff society — i.e. teachers and parents — made me feel guilty about spending time on. And I don’t think this is rare. I think it’s the people who were obsessed with computer games, or Science Fiction, or Dungeons & Dragons, back in 1982, who are creating the world we live in today.
We won (or, at least, we’re ahead — when we all die young from heart disease and diabetes because we never get any exercise, the jocks from high school whose knees still work can gloat).
And having won by willfully ignoring society’s ideas of what a “healthy” obsession was when we were kids, who are we to impose our ideas of what a “healthy” obsession is on our kids? Well, we’re parents, of course, and “a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds”. Perhaps we’re just that much smarter than our parents and teachers.
Another possibility that occurs to me is that a passion for anything — programming, role-playing games, the collected works of Jack Vance — only turns into something powerful and character-building if it involves pushing against social pressure. In other words, it’s OK for us to try to stop our kids from doing what they want to do, but it’s even better if they defy us and it anyway.
In the end, I don’t mind if my kids are obsessed with Minecraft, or even Youtube. What worries me is that its too easy to feed those obsessions, and I don’t think technology is the problem. But, having said that, my father narrowly avoided the Holocaust and my mother lived through famine and the Vietnam War, whereas I had to cope with the poor selection of science fiction in local libraries and the fact that our school only had one Apple II computer.
I remain very frustrated with my Photography workflow. No-one seems to get this right and it drives me nuts. (I’m unwilling to pay Apple lots of money for a ridiculous amount of iCloud storage, which might work quite well, but it still wouldn’t have simple features like prioritizing images that I’ve rated or looked at closely over others automagically, or allow me to rate JPEGs and have the rating carried over to the RAW later.)
Anyway, Aperture is sufficiently out-of-date that I’ve actually uninstalled it and Photoshop still has some features (e.g. stitching) that its competition cannot match. So, $120 for a year of Photoshop + Lightroom… let’s see how it goes.
I was expecting Lightroom to be awesome what with all the prominent folks who swear by it. So far I find it unfamiliar (I did actually use LR2, and of course I am a Photoshop ninja) to the point of frustration, un-Mac-like, and ugly, ugly, ugly.
A large part of the problem is terrible use of screen Real Estate. It’s easy to hide the menubar (once you find where Adobe has hidden its non-standard full screen controls), but it’s hard (impossible) to hide the idiotic mode menu “Identity Plate”. (I found the “Identity Plate Editor” (WTF?) by right-clicking hopefully all over the place, which allowed me to shrink the stupidly large lettering but it just left the empty space behind. How can an application that was created brand new (and initially Mac-only) have managed to look like a dog’s breakfast so quickly?
But there are many little things that just suck.
All the menus are horrible — cluttered and full of nutty junk. Looks like design by committee.
The dialog box that appears when you “Copy…” the current adjustments is a crime against humanity (it has a weird set of defaults which I overrode by clicking “check none” when I only wanted to copy some very specific settings and now I can’t figure out how to restore the defaults).
The green button doesn’t activate full screen mode. There are multiple full screen modes and none of them are what I want.
Zooming with the trackpad is weird. And the “Loupe” (nothing like or as nice as Aperture’s) changes its behavior for reasons I cannot discern. (I finally figured out that the zoom in shortcut actually goes to 1:1 by default, which is useful, although it’s such a common feature I’d have assigned a “naked” keystroke to it, such as Z, which instead toggles between display modes.)
The main image view seizes up after an indeterminate amount of use and shortly afterwards Lightroom crashes. (This is on maxed out Macbook Pro 15″.)
I can’t hide the stupid top bar (with your name in it). I can’t even make it smaller by reducing the font size of the crap in it.
Hiding the “toolbar” hides a random thing that doesn’t seem to me to be a toolbar.
By default the left side of the main window is wasted space. Oh, and the stupid presets are displayed as a list of words — you need to mouse over them to get a low-fidelity preview.
I found Lightroom’s UI sufficiently annoying that I reinstalled Aperture for comparison. Sadly, Lightroom crushes Aperture in ways that really matter. E.g. its Shadow and Highlight tools simply work better than Aperture’s (I essentially need to go into Curves to do anything slightly difficult in Aperture), and it has recent features (such as Dehaze — I’m pretty sure inspired by a similar feature DxO was very proud of a while back). After processing a few carefully underexposed RAW images* in both programs, Lightroom gets me results that Aperture simply can’t match (it also makes it very tempting to make the kind of over-processed images you see everywhere these days with amped up colors, quasi-HDR effects, and exaggerated micro-contrast).
(* Quite a few years ago someone I respect suggested that it’s a good idea to “underexpose” most outdoor shots by one stop to keep more highlight detail. This is especially important if the sky is visible. These days, everyone seems to be on the “ISO Invariance” bandwagon which is essentially not doing anything to the signal off the sensor (boosting effective ISO) when capturing RAW, in essence, “expose to the left” automatically — the exact opposite of the “expose to the right” bandwagon these clowns were all on two years ago — here’s a discussion of doing both at the same time. Hilarious. On the bright side, ISO Invariance pretty much saves ETTR nuts from constantly blowing their highlights.)
Funny thing though is that the new Photos app gives Lightroom a much better run for its money (um, it’s free), has Aperture’s best UI feature (organic customization), and everything runs much faster that Lightroom. The problem with Photos is it is missing key features of Lightroom, e.g. Dehaze, Clarity, and (most curiously) Vibrance. You just can’t get as far with Photos as you can with Lightroom. (If you have Affinity Photo you can use its Dehaze more-or-less transparently from Photos. It’s a modal, but then Lightroom is utterly modal.)
On the UI level, though, Photos simply spanks Lightroom’s Develop mode. Lightroom’s organization tools, clearly with many features requested by users, are completely out of Photos’ league.
I also tried Darktable (the open source Lightroom replacement) for comparison. I think its user interface is in many ways nicer than Lightroom’s — it looks and feels better — although much of its lack of clutter is owed to a corresponding lack of features), but the sad news is that Darktable’s image-processing capabilities don’t even compete with Aperture, let alone Photos. (One thing I really like about Darktable is that it applies “orientation” (automatic horizon leveling), “sharpen”, and “base curve” automagically by default. Right now this isn’t customizable — there’s a placeholder dialog — but if it were it would be an awesome feature.)
At bottom, Aperture doesn’t look or feel like an application developed by or for professionals. It’s very capable, but its design is — ironically — horrible.
Photoshop’s capabilities are, by and large, unmatched, but its UI wasn’t good when it first came out and many of its worst features have pretty much made it through unscathed by taste, practicality, or a sense of a job well done. Take a look at this gem:
This was an understandably frustrating dialog back in 1991 — in fact the attempt to provide visual cues with the lines was probably as much as you could expect, but it hasn’t changed since — every other application I use provides a GPU-accelerated live preview (in Acorn it’s non-destructive too). What’s even worse is that it looks like the dialog’s layout has been slightly tweaked to allow for too-large-and-non-standard buttons (with badly centered captions that would look worse if there were a glyph with a descender in it). At least it doesn’t waste a buttload of space on a mode menu: instead there’s a small popup lets you pick which (customizable) “workspace” you want to use, and the rest of the bar is actually useful (it shows common settings for the currently selected tool).
In the end, Photoshop at least looks reasonably nice , and its UI foibles are things I’ve grown accustomed to over twenty-five years.
I can’t wait until I get to experience Adobe’s Updater…
I think if we’re going to have guns they shouldn’t be concealed. They should have day-glo grips, stocks, and cases — mandatorily lurid pink I suggest, have built-in GPS sensors, and make wah-wah noises when they’re moved around; the battery that runs the GPS and buzzer also allows the gun to be fired; and every gun should have sample fired bullets and casings registered in a national database (paid for by the bullet tax, see below). After all, if they’re supposed to deter crime shouldn’t criminals know they’re there? I certainly want to know who has guns and avoid them.
Now of course people will argue “if it’s illegal to conceal weapons then only criminals will have concealed weapons”. That’s true, but they need to be careful, especially if the penalties are harsh. E.g. if someone doesn’t like you they can just tell the police you habitually carry a gun. Similarly, it would be illegal to sell guns without these things and when you tear out the mechanism your last known location would be in the cloud.
The GPS sensors and buzzers will run out of batteries and also could be gouged out but not keeping your batteries charged would also be a crime and when your gun stopped responding the authorities would know when and where.
We could require gun ranges to run every bullet fired on the range, and every casing to be matched against the database (expensive, but the bullet tax will pay for it). If a bullet doesn’t have a registered match (e.g. the gun’s owner is not the right person or the gun’s rifling has been tampered with) then we either arrest the owner or register the new bullet.
The buzzers and day-glo would kind of mess up hunting, but the right to go hunting is not enshrined by the constitution — the second amendment is solely there for purposes of preserving us from tyranny, and at such time as we desire to overthrow the government we can always pull the crap out, right? After all, armed insurrection is also illegal. Perhaps to honor the second amendment we can require the mechanisms to be removable in some straightforward way — on the strict understanding that it’s a felony.
All this might sound horribly draconian. It’s supposed to be. The argument is that the 2nd amendment protects our right to overthrow tyrants. I would argue the 4th amendment is far more important (and we can set up the GPS system so it merely tracks your gun anonymously until it’s involved in a shooting).
When a gun owner moves into your neighborhood they should be required to post a public notification in the “known sex offenders and gun owners” registry.
Chris Rock suggests that we simply put a huge tax on bullets. (“That guy must deserve it, they put $50,000 worth of lead in him.”) I would point out that the right to bullets is actually not enshrined in the constitution, but certainly we can put a hefty federal tax on them or require a prescription. After all, they’re kind of a potentially lethal drug (“lead poisoning”) and should be properly controlled. Better make sure you have all your tax stamps and prescriptions ready when you get your hunting license.
The bullet tax can also pay for free kevlar body armor for all citizens who want it, and perhaps provide guns and bullets (which are after all rather expensive as a result of all this) to the poor.
Let me begin by saying that I don’t hate it — and I like it a lot more than the old logo which seems to have been the word “Google” in Times New Roman or whatever browsers showed by default as Serif back in the day. The old logo had the chief virtue of being unpretentious and not looking like, say, Marissa Meyer had devoted a whole weekend to it.
I saw someone claim that the new Google logo was an awesome piece of economy because it could be build entirely from booleans of circles and rectangles. I think that would be pretty cool — and in fact conceptually far more interesting than what it actually is, but you can see at a glance that it’s not so.
The new logo is simply a slightly bespoke version of Futura, a nice, modernist typeface which — in very much the Bauhaus style (which it was inspired by — looks simple and industrial but is actually the product of careful design. Google’s logo is essentially some Futura variant, hand-kerned, with slightly modified glyphs. Much like the subtly rounded corners on iOS7 icons and rounded rectangles.
Many corporate logos are simply examples of slightly customized typography — in this case Google seems to have taken the most common variant of Futura (the default weight of the version bundled with Mac OS X) and tweaked it a bit. Not great, not horrible, and better than Times New Roman. I imagine a lot of designers are incensed either because they’re anti-Google and like to disparage anything it does or they’re pro-Google and would like to see it put a bit of effort into picking a logo.
Personally, I think Google should have picked a more interesting typeface that somehow reflected its values. I would have picked a member of the DIN family (or similar) — a typeface designed first and foremost for legibility while being more attractive (in my opinion) than Futura. Google is, at its heart, a supremely utilitarian company, and I think DIN would deeply reflect this. Futura, with its Bauhaus underpinnings, strikes me as pretentiously faux-utilitarian. It looks geometric at the cost of practicality and legibility, but sacrifices design purity in the interest of aesthetics.