Humanity in general seems to have a tendency to move in the direction of extremities. Call it crowd psychology, but the US political system is based on the same tendencies. A pendulum of socialist versus capitalist ideals swings to and fro, creating an almost predictable pattern of Congressional and Presidential offices. (On a tangent note, I don’t know if I’d mentioned it here on my blog in the past, but I claimed victory for Senator Barack Obama when he won the Democratic nomination. I still voted for McCain, but vainly, knowing that our recent economic situations would be blamed upon capitalists. I’m not proud to be correct — I’d rather have been wrong — but it does demonstrate my point.) When the people are happy, they ask for more of the same, until we reach such an extreme that everyone’s stomach is aching in pain, and the outcry is great enough to push us in the opposite direction. Thus, the cycle continues.

Take, as another example, the state of the US economy in the 1870s, just prior to unions and a consumer-based economy. During this era of American history, our economic climate would be considered a “business-to-business” economy, where one business existed to supply goods or services to another. The natural result of this was two-fold: first, the entire economy was based on several resources (oil, steel, and railroad transportation), which meant that the economy was poorly diversified; second, and more to my point, the consumer or, as I refer to them, “little people,” were essentially ignored in terms of health, prosperity, and potential success. Sweatshops, child labor, workman’s compensation, insurance, and so on were poorly regulated and largely without legislation. This extreme pro-business, anti-consumer economy naturally led to a public outcry, which caused the formation of unions and ultimately the implementation of laws and regulations at both state and federal levels to protect the public. I’m not claiming this to be a bad thing, but any business owner will tell you that the cost of doing business is extremely high purely do to two primary factors: legislation (taxes and regulation) and payroll (which includes insurance policies, workman’s compensation, and so on), and these factors are closely tied together. Allow me to reiterate: this isn’t necessarily a bad thing if in good measure, but I’ve had conversations with many of my great friends at Starbucks who have come to expect their employer to not only pay them, but support them in other circumstances. It sounds like a great idea for the workers, but the workers are merely small vessels: the real money that is being moved is going through the large company, and it isn’t about whether Starbucks makes money or not — if they provide a product or service that people want, the market will naturally keep the company alive — but rather the fact that money is moving through the economic system. This movement creates additional incomes for the government in the form of taxes (they have their place and should be paid duly) and furthermore allows the investing and expansion of economic activity for both Starbucks and related (or unrelated, as witnessed by Starbucks’ contract with Apple for the iTunes free song of the week or the Starbucks Music franchise) areas of the economy. It is what allows growth. By forcing unreasonable expectations upon a company in the interest of protecting consumers, the government essentially caps economic activity. This is bad when these protective laws become outrageous.

It doesn’t stop there, however. The company I’ve been using in this example is Starbucks, but what about small businesses, entrepreneurs, or new start-ups? These companies often require low overhead in order to procure profits and prove their business to be profitable (or convince venture capitalists, but that’s a different subject beyond the scope of this entry, which has already expanded vastly beyond my original intentions). If you have laws in place that are too extreme, the number of new businesses created is reduced significantly, which results in a less diversified economy. The more diversified an economy, as we all know, the more resilient it is to market crashes; take for example, the current economic situation, which is based largely on sub-prime mortgages and bad loans. Our economy was over-leveraged and poorly diversified, as all the institutions took the same trade (that is, all bought the same type of instrument), assuming that no significant amount of loans would default to cause any problems, but that assumption was based on the fact that real estate prices had gone up consistently in the past and the very incorrect belief that they would continue to do so indefinitely. Fortunately, the remainder of the US economy is diversified enough to withstand a large portion of the problem, but how long can it withstand such a heavy blow? In any case, more diversification helps to mitigate these types of economic bubbles. Why would you prevent that by instituting laws that limit the feasibility of creating new business (and new jobs, and new wealth, and the list goes on).

Now, I’ve said all of that to come back to my original point about balance. When the economy in the 1870s was so extremely centered around businesses, the people pushed back and got what they wanted. That’s fine that it was brought into balance. However, the way that people think nowadays is that the company they work for owes them something; it’s a very unfair sense of entitlement. The company you work for owes you nothing more than what you work for, and that amount can be negotiated or other benefits may apply instead (i.e., your hourly rate may be lower at Company A than Company B, but Company A provides better benefits). We seem to be approaching the extreme of pro-consumer, anti-business, and I anticipate that the next four to eight years may be very difficult for businesses and our economy in general. However, a decade or two from today, I fully expect another shift in the direction of businesses. Unless he’s just taking a huge bet, I’m in agreement with Warren Buffet, who recently bought Goldman-Sachs in a long-term position, betting (and I use the word “bet” here loosely) that the market will be higher in a decade or so. (Correct me if I got the details wrong.)

I’ve thus far used economics, politics, and crowd psychology (a.k.a. voting) as examples to make my point that balance is critical. Let’s take a physical example: an acrobat walking a tight rope balances himself by shifting his weight and adjusting as gravity pulls him downward on one side or the other. If he reaches one extreme or the other, he falls, and I can imagine the ensuing pain is unbearable. It’s very delicate. Let’s take a better physical example: riding a bike. As long as you’re moving forward and shifting yourself appropriately, you’ll avoid falling to one side or the other. If you stop moving altogether, it’s much the same as reaching one extreme or the other. You don’t fall forward, but you won’t be able to balance without movement (I’ll avoid making another reference to economics here, but feel free to connect the dots).

Going out would be another great example — and I’ll use my personal experiences here, but feel free to fill in the blanks. Personally, I am an “at home” type of person. I wouldn’t say “indoors,” as I very much enjoy sports, swimming, and other athletic activities, but I enjoy them at home. Going out to the movies, the park, the store, a party, a concert — they are fun, but my preference is generally to stay home. This isn’t a bad trait, but neither is preferring to go out. What is a bad trait is taking it to an extreme, a familiar theme. I recently noticed this pattern vividly in my own life. The less I go out, the less I feel good about myself as a person, and the less motivated I am to work — the less happy I am. The result, of course, is that I’ve seen this and have begun planning to go out more frequently. Mind you, I won’t be going out every night for four hours, as that would take it to the opposite extreme and result in other unfavorable symptoms, but going out more will allow me to live my life, and have stories that I lived, and have experiences that are invaluable, and see new things, and meet new people… There are many things that need to be part of my life, if for nothing other than psychological reasons (”feel good” emotions). Experiencing these emotions seems to be very important to maintaining a productive lifestyle. If I feel like crap, it’s reflected in my work, my relationships, and my inability to enjoy any free time I may have. Conversely, the more elated I feel, the more motivated I am to work, the more positive I am around my friends and family (and, as a result, the better they feel), and the more I can enjoy the free time that I spend.

Balance — or the importance thereof, I should say — is overlooked so easily, and why? We see something want, we taste it, our appetites are whetted, and we pursue it; we bite, and we’re hooked, but what lies at the end of the line is a knife and a frying pan. It’s important to evaluate your position and center yourself at the peak of the bell curve — change is good, adjustments are needed, but too much (i.e., over-compensating) can be painful and irreparable.

Fair enough, you can’t. So what are we here for, then? Well, the subtlety of the imperative “stop being miserable” statement lies in its methodology. It’s quite obvious that you can’t simply change an unfavorable situation by clicking your heels together and saying “Take me home, Auntie Em.” Instead of changing your assertion from “stop being miserable” to “try to stop being miserable,” for example, change the way you go about achieving it. If you cannot directly change the situation you’re in, change how you perceive it and how you react.

I’m not advocating the creation of an alternate reality wherein your mind plays games on itself. What I’m suggesting is revamping your outlook. You might call it optimism, as opposed to pessimism, but if you must call it optimism, please don’t leave it at that. Skeptical optimism, perhaps, or cautious joy. An awareness of what is real, but a reaction that provides a clear course of action that leads to a remedy; approaching the problem with an inner sincerity that blooms with happiness. The source of misery is not your situation — whether you’re alone, bereaved, forsaken, disowned, or forgotten — but the melodramatic reaction to your situation that develops in your mind. The truth is, this all boils down to good, old-fashioned willpower, and even if your willpower is strong, you must channel it positively and be conscious of its direction. From there, you may choose for yourself whether you will take control of your life or allow yourself to fall victim to misery.

So, in the way of advice, I offer the following: Stop being miserable. Plain and simple.

Of course, as we all know, this only lasted for a short time, as people became aware that their rights as human beings should be protected, and that corporations did not have the right to extort and exploit workers and their families. Thankfully, because of the way our government was designed, the people’s outcry against this unfairly skewed situation was rectified through the passage of a great many laws, protecting the rights of the public.

And ever since that fateful time in history, the American populace has come to expect — as it is their right — the protections and provisions of the law. Certainly, these laws have not existed since the dawn of time, but millenials — by which I mean to say the current and upcoming generation of Americans — seem to believe that this is the case. Subsequently, Americans have a tendency to arrogantly reject and scoff at the notion that they have to sacrifice or relinquish any amount of personal liberty, benefit, or expectations that they have.

One of my previous employers, Starbucks Coffee Company, allows me to put this into perspective. As my first job, I was anxious to work diligently — a personal work ethic — to learn and execute the tasks assigned to me to the best of my ability. Of course, this work ethic is something that I have due to my upbringing, but I quickly discovered that this was an ethic not everyone shared, to my surprise. (In defense of my naiveté, I reiterate: this was my first job.) The way an employee would address a manager directly — and how tolerant a manager was — quite frankly shocked me. I thought “How can these people keep their jobs?” After some pondering, I arrived at the conclusion that both the employees and their employers had been conditioned to the laws that protect the rights of the consumer and the employee. No longer can an employer constantly and endlessly implement practices of Taylorism without losing employees who favor more comfortable or desirable work environments (or proceed with litigation). Indeed, this is a very good (yet unforeseen) result of making more distinct the laws of personal rights and protections.

Yet the same lack of prognostication that produced the competitive work environment benefits of our day has also brought on another side-effect, this one less favorable. As knowledgeable individuals, any employee or consumer is far more likely to sue or react with a “you can’t do that to me” high-and-mighty attitude in any given situation. This awareness of legal protection has brought on a flair of arrogance and somewhat excessive self-worth.

Why is this bad, you ask, besides the connotations associated with arrogance? It’s quite simply that Americans easily begin to forget that the American spirit, upon which our great nation was founded, is based on hard work. When we reach a point of elevation where the employee has gone from under the command of the employer to commanding the employer, then the balance has shifted; the pendulum has swung the other way, and now instead of achieving the balance originally sought by the laws that were implemented in the interest of protecting consumers and employees, these laws have been taken effectively a step further, causing the employers to pay penalties and suffer greatly (and thus the economy). I won’t go so far as to say that these laws do not belong, but their extension has reached a point of extremity, and it is my belief that the American populace needs to understand that their inherent, inalienable rights are not to prosperity, but to opportunity. This is a critical facet of our country that is either overlooked or misunderstood, and it’s quite appalling that our generation assumes that they deserve to prosper simply by existing. This is false! Americans have the right to opportunity, and it is their diligence and hard work that will bring them prosperity. These are values upon which our nation was built, and they are values that have caused this country to prosper — because we did not assume we would, but because we saw opportunity and worked hard to achieve prosperity. We must continue in this direction.

It may occur to you that I’m simply ranting about the routine sociological shifts that occur every other decade or so, but the title of this entry indicates otherwise: privacy and protectionism. What does this have to do with privacy?

The fact of the matter is that the paradigmatic shift that has occurred over the years has brought us to believe that we deserve — simply by virtue of the fact that we are alive and breathing — to be protected by our government. Certainly, this makes sense, even to the more or less antiquated Enlightenment ideology: rather than the people existing for the service of the state, the state exists for the service of the people. Our reliance on our government has reached an extreme, though. Evidence? Graduated income taxes, unemployment tax, workman’s compensation, food stamps, and the list goes on. Yes, these provisions have their place, but they take away part of our American spirit: failure is the opportunity to try again! I have no problem donating money to people in need; and, if I am in the position to do so, then I will certainly be happy to. Of course, not everyone is so benevolent, but in general most Americans are. Why force it upon those who are not interested in doing so? Why is this a law?

(A note for the historians: you may see the parallels in the distinct policies of Hoover as compared to Franklin Roosevelt — and you’re right, I do agree that Hoover’s policies were spot-on, and Roosevelt did little to help the economy of the Great Depression. Argue what you’d like, but the belief that Roosevelt was anything beyond a good president — not a great one — is a very common misconception. But that is by no means what this entry is about.)

1,035 words later, and you’re still wondering, “So what’s this all about?” Okay, I cave. Let’s get to the real reason for my alleged rambling. Recently, Facebook made changes to its privacy policy. Of course, these were fully intended to continue protecting the users of the site, but the subsequent, excessive media attention this change received has been incredible. A recap of the issue points out that the Electronic Privacy Information Center (EPIC? More like EPIC fail!) was poised to file a complaint to the Federal Trade Commission regarding the issue. What is astounding to me? Facebook’s privacy policy change had somewhat ambiguous verbiage, but it did not mean that they were misusing private information of customers. How difficult is that to understand? I don’t blame Facebook for it; they did it as an initiative to protect their customers more adequately, but as usual the media has done a great job of twisting the information so much that everyone suddenly thinks Facebook is bad for privacy.

Let me make something very, very clear. In the event that you, as a citizen and of your own free will, choose to surrender any information to a second party (in this case Facebook), you have relinquished your right to exclusivity of that information. If you are concerned about privacy, why are you using Facebook to begin with? Our country has lost the basic value that you must pay the consequences for your actions. If you choose to use Facebook and its use is contingent on you providing personal information, then you have voluntarily relinquished control of that information, in accordance with whatever policies Facebook has forthcomingly identified. It is your job, as a customer, to be aware of your actions and the potential consequences thereto.

Let me provide an equator for those of you who are still listening and haven’t shut me out already. Privacy is to prosperity as religion is to science. Take, for instance, cloning of animals; this is seen as unethical and “only for God” by many religious groups — it’s pure blasphemy, as they say. I’m not irreligious myself, but I certainly do not see this as unethical by any means. Yet we’ve had so much dispute over whether cloning may be legalized, and the fact that this debate continues merely holds back the scientific research that could be providing more efficient, better, potentially healthier foods. That’s the argument with privacy. Business brings economic prosperity. This is a fact. Privacy, and the unnecessarily excessive concern arisen thereby, becomes a stumbling block for business and, in effect, prosperity. The ball is in the court of the American populace: what information you seek to keep private should be kept private. You can never, and should never, rely on another entity (person or company) to keep their promise. This is a basic concept. Rather than react to a problem, focus on preventing it. Certainly there are provisions and procedures of the law that will protect you from such situations should they arise, but more importantly, protecting yourself is the proactive measure that should be taken for your own personal benefit. You wouldn’t trust your neighbor with your credit cards over the weekend — or worse, a stranger, which is roughly how disconnected you are from a company with whom you provide information, so why in the world would you offer this information to a group of people you’ve never met who are under the guise of a company? You wouldn’t.

Here’s another example: abortion. One of my biggest arguments against abortion is that it teaches Americans that if they make a mistake, they don’t have to pay for it. Someone has to pay. If you “make a mistake” and become pregnant, President Obama doesn’t want you to “have to pay for it” (that’s a direct quote from a speech he gave during his campaign). Are you kidding me? If the mother doesn’t pay for the mistake, who does? The child. Is there anything more unethical than forcing an unborn child to bear the responsibility of your mistake? How can you live with that? I’m not an advocate of premarital sex myself, but if you are going to go for it, please do so responsibly (and hey, you have the added benefit of moving the economy forward, since after all, you have to purchase condoms or some kind of contraceptive, right?); and if you do become pregnant or impregnate someone, it is your job to pay for the mistake, not the child’s job to assume responsibility for it.

The truth is, Americans seem to be so concerned with privacy that it hinders the progress we all hope to achieve, but just like an American, thinking does not come first, and so naturally we react to a change in privacy policies with disgust, because we have already sacrificed that private information under the assumption that it would be protected by the government. The only argument against Facebook that I consider sensible is that a new privacy policy is being implemented under the assumption that the customer agrees to it, without asking them, and of course the fact that this privacy policy is different. Facebook did not request customers to accept the new privacy policy, they just changed it; now, as an American, I of course did not read the privacy policy that Facebook asked me to agree to when I signed up, and so of course I wouldn’t know if Facebook’s original policy included a clause that permitted them to make changes to the policy without prior notification to the customer, but if they did, that essentially voids the argument that their change of policy under the assumed consent is illegal. If Facebook were sued, I’m confident they’d win the case. It’s just that it’s too expensive for them to deal with it, a waste of capital. Smart move, Facebook.

Oh, and before you point out that I’m a hypocritical bigot for not reading the privacy policy before registering for Facebook immediately after discussing privacy at length, understand that I entered into my binding agreement with Facebook knowing full-well that any information that I post to, upload to, or any way in which I otherwise take action on the Facebook web site may potentially be used in any way that Facebook sees fit. In other words, I don’t care if Facebook uses my picture, name, hobbies, preference in music, phone number, or email address and publishes it anywhere in the world, in any way. If your privacy concerns are different, then you can certainly read through all the legal jargon that Facebook has so kindly made available (or do as I have and do not put information that you consider private on the Facebook web site - yes, it’s that simple). My concern is not of privacy, as I have offered that information to Facebook of my own free will. I am prepared for the consequences.

Hopefully, people begin to see the reality of the situation and use more common sense when approaching these kinds of issues. It’s really quite simple, and I am sure the media only bloat the matter in a frail attempt at scaring the public about privacy and subliminally advocating their unreasonable agenda. Privacy is not an issue, but the media makes it ostentatious. Don’t be frightened; know your rights, read the policies before you agree to them, and don’t offer information you consider sensitive. Privacy is only as problematic as you cause it to be.

And just so everyone knows: I’m totally crushing on Bethany (she’s hot and a lot smarter than I am, what more could a guy want?), even after she rejected my request for a date. (If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!) This is information I am willing to share with anyone, because my privacy concerns are not ridiculous. I am concerned about my social security number as it relates to my identity and livelihood, but I am not concerned about “personal” information in general, because those expectations are ludicrous. Please, let business work. Our country needs it.

Before I get ahead of myself, I don’t want to give any spoilers, but be advised that I may include a lot of hints in this entry, so continue reading at your own risk. Now where was I?

Oh yes, I mentioned an armor earlier. The Gun X Sword anime is centered around the most powerful people on the planet: those in possession of their own armor. In this show, an armor is essentially a very large mechanized assault vehicle that can take any shape or form — but most frequently, an armor looks like a very large person made of metal and, in the case of “the original seven,” blue goo (something akin to human blood, but for an armor).

The entire show is based on the planet Endless Illusion. It’s mostly a desert planet, filled with bandits, crime, and smaller towns. From what I gather, the planet is where criminals were sent to (something of a penal colony). Originally, seven executioners (the original seven, one for each day of the week) were placed in armors, located in satellite orbit of Endless Illusion. I don’t think I need to explain anything beyond the fact that these executioners were in place to maintain order with an iron fist. Of course, eventually corruption got to the original seven, and their purpose was forgotten. If you’re wondering, “mother earth” as it’s known, was destroyed, undoubtedly by humanity’s greed or some such nonsense.

The story starts with Van, our hardened, tuxedo-wearing protagonist, moping through the desert in search of food and water. He stumbles upon the town of Evergreen and, by chance, finds a girl (Windy) in a church whilst it’s being robbed. Having walked into the middle of it, his first course of action was to tell the bandits he didn’t want any trouble and exit promptly; of course, the bandits wouldn’t settle for that and told him to give them his weapons, money, etc. Naturally, Van has had enough and proceeds to save Windy by disposing of the bandits. This is their by-chance meeting, and although Van again denies to help the town by ridding them of the bandits, he is forced into a situation where he must deal with them — it gets personal. His opponent has an armor, but Van quickly puts an end to it by calling on his own armor — named Dann (of Thursday) — from orbit. From this fateful day forward, Windy follows (and eventually befriends) Van on his quest for the man with the claw — the opponent who killed Ellena, Van’s fiancé.

Along the way, many new friends (and enemies) are made, including a group of four drunken old men who ride armor together (in a very Power Ranger-esque fashion, which was not necessarily to my liking), a girl named Priscilla who takes an immediate liking to Van, a young boy named Joshua, younger brother to a gunslinger named Ray that Van battles several times and who ultimately works to the benefit of Van and his friends, and an information broker named Carule who prefers to be called Carmen 99. By the end of the story, all of these characters come together in order to take down the man with the claw and his evil purpose. To add to the flavor and dynamics of the characters, they each have their own purpose for working together or against each other, their own pasts which they must come to terms with, and many other facets that make the story continually interesting; for when there is no action going on, discovering more about the characters is a welcomed break from the heat of battle. Van, for example, requests the condiments — all of them — for each and every meal he eats (most likely because his bodily reconstruction has rendered his taste buds nigh useless, but that’s a guess), and he prefers milk and sobriety over alcohol.

Overall, the Gun X Sword was a fantastic anime, and although there were a few aspects that were less than interesting, all 26 episodes had something to offer and kept me acutely intrigued throughout the series. If you haven’t seen it, then I would highly recommend it; alternatively, if you are looking for something similar, my first recommendation goes to Trigun — my personal favorite anime — and my second recommendation goes to Cowboy Bebop. All of these anime are special in their own way, but Trigun is based on a desert planet full of bandits and lunatics because earth was destroyed many years ago, and Cowboy Bebop is about a group of bounty hunters that visit many different planets in space, seeking their own goals. I would highly recommend all three of these anime shows, so if you haven’t seen any of them yet, go check them out!

Interesting to note, Facebook seems to think that Shiretoko is “an older browser” and tosses the chatting function into a new window for you. Looks like they do browser sniffing instead of testing for available functionality. Of course, the browser could be cloaked to report that it is Firefox, but that would only be worth it if Shiretoko provided a significant performance improvement. I do, however, like that the only browser that Facebook suggests upgrading to is Firefox — it doesn’t mention Internet Explorer, Opera, Chrome, or any other browser. Facebook likes Firefox.

Of course, being the most technical guy in my family, I was unanimously elected Chairman of the Computer Problems and Malfunctions Committee and proceeded to begin the setup process for my brother to begin using his new laptop.

Although I am a Mac user (officially switched now), I still use Windows often since most computers still come with it. And because you can’t get a good Mac laptop for $500 just yet (but that’s buying cheap, the way I see it). I’m not unfamiliar with Windows XP or Vista, but every time I work with it, I am reminded (quickly) why I love the Mac: it just works.

But back to my story, the initial setup of a Windows Vista laptop is very smooth. You turn it on and begin using it. Of course, with a few problems, like UAC or “User Account Control,” which basically asks you to confirm a confirmation by indicating your level of certainty (often scaring users into declining and hence not achieving the functionality they sought because Windows scares them by convincing them that they do not want it). “Do you want to do this?” “Are you sure you want to do it?” “Do you realize that if you do it, the possibility exists that the sky could fall on you?” “Are you sure you would like the sky to fall on you?” I mean, pardon the hyperbole, but how many times do you have to confirm that you want to connect to your home network?

In any case, to compound the frustrations of clicking “OK” or “Yes” twenty times per action, Windows Vista doesn’t seem to connect to a wireless router unless, well, it wants to. The diagnosis of the router problem is incredibly idiotic. When it “diagnoses” the problem, it usually cannot find it; and when it does identify something it is always wrong. Not sometimes, always. After between 10 and 30 minutes of fiddling with network settings, rebooting the machine, and disabling layers and layers (and layers and layers and layers) of security settings, I concluded that Windows Vista simply would not allow a machine to connect to a network.

Several hours later, for whatever reason, I was playing with router settings for a virtual server I’d setup on my (Windows) laptop. In the process, I needed to reboot the router to update the settings. When I rebooted the router, Timothy noticed (and subsequently informed me) that his Windows Vista laptop connected to the Internet. So let’s recap.

Windows Vista

• would not connect to the wireless network
• said “no problems detected” when it diagnosed the connection
• required multiple layers of security to be disabled
• could not suggest rebooting the router
• randomly began working after the router was rebooted

Okay, excellent. Not to bash or anything, but in contrast, in December of 2008 when I bought my first MacBook Pro (which I am using to write this blog entry), here’s how simple the process to connect to the wireless network was:

• Turn it on.

And now you see why Mac wins over PC. It works. And it’s not just Vista. My previous Windows XP Professional laptop’s search function (you know, “search this computer”) was broken. I could search a folder for a file by name, which I knew was there, and not find it. Conversely, I can type anything in Spotlight and find it in a fraction of the time on my Mac. (Uses about 1GB of virtual memory to power it, but that’s a small sacrifice seeing as it doesn’t dramatically affect performance as far as I can tell.)

Let’s consider another situation in which Windows Vista decided to frustrate the family. Tonight, Timothy was installing some anti-virus software on his laptop (the same laptop he got for his birthday last year). Of course, why you would need anti-virus software is beyond my comprehension, considering that there seems to be so much security on Windows Vista that a virus wouldn’t be able to do anything — heck, the user can’t do anything half the time! Anyway, to make a long story short, after installing the anti-virus software (Trend Micro, if you’re curious, but I don’t think it matters as this was a Vista thing), the laptop no longer would connect to the Internet. Naturally, my first course of action was to again disable all security (Windows Defender, Windows Firewall, Internet Options security settings, the whole nine yards); next, I rebooted the laptop (after discovering that the “shut down” icon actually meant “log off” — a very serious user interface problem), which did not work, either. Then I tried rebooting the router, recalling my earlier issues with Vista. This also did not work. The solution eventually turned out to be that I had to disable and re-enable the wireless network adapter. Vista’s diagnosis of the problem? “Ensure that IPv4 and IPv6 settings are enabled.” Ridiculous!

So, ladies and gentlemen, when it comes to Windows Vista, don’t rely on whatever Vista tells you. If it tells you anything, it’s probably wrong. Instead, restart the machine, router, network adapter, and then try again. You’re better off just trying what you think will work than following Vista’s instructions.

You may wonder the actual cause of this self-centered point-of-view. After all, is it because we are conditioned from childhood to think in terms relative to ourselves and our experiences, or is this a natural inclination, and if so, why? Personally, I believe that it is a combination of both, but primarily a natural inclination based on a shrouded factor: knowledge. If it were merely based on our ascension to adolescence and interaction with others who also express themselves self-centeredly, then the question becomes, where did these people with whom one interacts learn to express themselves self-centeredly? Such an explanation is merely a sociological spiral with unknown roots or basis. The reason must be more natural to humanity itself than some attained or learned trait.

This brings me back to my point about knowledge. The more convinced or informed a person is about a topic, the greater the extent he is (usually) willing and able to explain it. Have you ever wondered how a nerd can be the most awkward type of individual in conversation, until you ask him about the half-life of carbon and how it is used to ascertain an estimate of the age of natural materials? Suddenly your question has somehow breathed life into him, and he begins pouring a wealth of information upon your pitifully uneducated essence (all right, I admit I took it to the extreme on that one). Of course, this lack of self-centeredness is only vaguely interesting to you, which is why you are no longer interested in having a conversation now that he is actually talking, because it is not something that interests you (which is why you know little or nothing about it); this has the added negative effect of occasionally making said nerd appear arrogant, as if he is showing off. In actuality, he is attempting to express himself in terms of what he knows. Many people know nothing better than themselves or the experiences they have had, and because that is where their knowledge lies it is the focal point from which all their conversation stems. It is not a sociological phenomenon, it is not a learned adaptation; it is the result of where one’s knowledge lies. (Of course, you could argue further that the reason one’s knowledge lies in a specific area is due to his passion for that subject, as would be the case in the above nerd example, but that goes a little beyond the scope of this entry. But passion is attractive, even if you’re a nerd, provided you have a fashion-sense.)

Although this is not necessarily a bad aspect of human personality, it can be undesirable at times, especially when it occurs in excess. Besides the fact that it appears to be ubiquitous, we often can’t express ourselves in any way other than what we know. If we want to discuss a topic, focusing on that topic often swings right back around to how we have personally experienced or interacted with said topic. How can we prevent or to some degree suppress the frequency and severity of this type of behavior? Two ways to circumnavigate it are general terminology and abstract thinking. That may sound intimidating, but both are used quite commonly, and curiously enough, they are primarily used by those who are better at conversing in an interesting, engaging way.

General terminology is the approach to conversation where, rather than revolving around yourself, you generalize the topic and speak within that frame of reference. For example, if a friend of mine is telling me about Nicole Kidman and her performance in the recent remake of the classic Invasion of the Body Snatchers, I cannot relate directly because I do not know anything about the Invasion of the Body Snatchers or Nicole Kidman, but because I have sufficient knowledge with regard to movies in general, I can speak in general terms to continue the conversation and, of course, learn something new. My response may be something along the lines of a question related to the topic, “What other movies does she play in?” to get more information; or perhaps I have a statement I’d like to make, such as “Horror films are awesome,” a generalized statement about horror films. This is better than responding with something along the lines of “I don’t care for horror films” and putting yourself and your conversational partner in an awkward stalemate until another topic is derived. It is also acceptable to sway the topic slightly to something that either interests you more or that you have more knowledge about. For example, you might be interested in knowing more about the person you’re speaking with and developing a deeper friendship, so you might say, “Are horror films your favorite genre?” or ask how frequently your friend participates in movie-seeing adventures. Any of these are acceptable, but the key is not to respond with a statement to which your friend cannot relate (i.e., a statement about yourself).

The second technique I mentioned is abstract thinking. Abstract thinking is, more or less, the ability to pull related concepts out of thin air and use them in conversation. This demonstrates that, although you have little or no knowledge about the topic you are discussing, you can understand (based on context or other details) where your friend is coming from. This often turns out to be a simple analogy or comparison to something you can relate to, such as relating a horror film to a bad dream, without actually diving into the little details that separate the two. Abstract thinking may also encompass several other techniques, but the idea is that you are discussing concepts rather than specifics.

As in my other posts, I don’t by any means claim to have a copious amount of knowledge about sociology or psychology, but I do find it interesting and have consequently chosen to write about my observations in these areas. So if you have something to add, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments.

I’m not really here to disagree or dissect Reisenger’s compilation of information on Twitter self-promotion techniques, which he has so eloquently refined, but the following statement from his article today made me think:

Look, I’m really happy to hear about your life and what’s going on, but I don’t need to be inundated with items you’re adding to Google Reader or songs currently playing on your computer. Maybe someone cares, but when I see my stream being overrun with automatic updates, it annoys me. Don’t do it. Please.

He’s right, you know. If you’re streaming music on Last.FM all day (like me), you probably will watch the number of followers on your Twitter profile diminish quickly. If Reisenger wouldn’t follow you, no one would (seriously, he’s following nearly 5,000 people!). Okay, maybe your sister and stay-at-home aunt in Oklahoma, but those are the few exceptions.

I would have liked to see Reisenger not just identify the problem with tweeting updates that most people won’t care about, but also identifying the solution to this problem — and it is quite simple. There are services to provide that kind of information to an audience that may be interested. In other words, your “I am going to eat dinner” status updates could be isolated to Facebook (who uses MySpace anymore? That’s so 2002), you can keep your audio scrobbling at Last.FM, your Google Reader or Bloglines blogroll can be followed by people who are interested in it (which, I have come to realize, is typically only viewed by people to see if they are on the list), your professional profile, resume and connections can be managed via LinkedIn, and your links and bookmarks can be managed by — well, whatever you choose. (I’m still loving del.icio.us, although there are a lot of competitors in this area nowadays.)

In any case, if you get my point, it’s that Twitter also has its place. Twitter doesn’t exist to be the centralized location where all of your other updates are forwarded to. It’s for the audience of your followers who are more interested in what they can discover, learn, relate to, or otherwise discuss via the @reply system. So, like Reisenger suggests, keep it clean; if not for your own ability to attain vast numbers of followers (which seems to be Reisenger’s goal — and he’s doing a great job), keep your tweets relevant and concise for the benefit of your loyal followers. It’s not just good practice for promotion, it’s good old-fashioned courtesy.

I mentioned that Twitter doesn’t exist to be the central location for all of your social networking updates, but unlike Reisenger I’m going to point out a solution for this, too. A service known as FriendFeed solves the issue by tapping into all of your social networking services (seriously, from YouTube to Reddit and beyond) and producing what’s known as a “lifestream.” You can get your friends to sign up as well, and you can keep all of these updates centralized there. Fine. Do that on FriendFeed, not on Twitter, and I’ll follow you on Twitter, and the folks interested in knowing your every breath can follow you on FriendFeed.

Oh, and there’s another service similar to FriendFeed called SocialThing!, which is in a private beta at the time of writing. I don’t know if it’ll be better, but if you look at the home page of my blog, you’ll see the sidebar on the right has a sort of lifestream (powered, of course, by FriendFeed). That’s where everything is centralized.

A little side note (this I did tweet), Reisenger mentions in his article that he also uploads photos to his Twitter account:

Have you ever taken pictures and uploaded them to a service like Twitpic so you could post it in your Twitter stream? If you haven’t, your followers are missing out.

Sending pictures is a great way to add more value to Twitter and make you a better Tweeter. Let’s face it: who really wants to look at text all day? Your followers might actually like pictures better than your regular updates.

That’s why I’ve uploaded pictures from my wedding. It turns out my followers would rather see pictures of my wife than hear what I have to say.

I laughed at that last statement. I haven’t checked, but something tells me Reisenger is a very lucky man.

I have not yet tried the Twitpic service, although I may at some point, but I prefer links over images in twitter updates, myself; just give me a link to photos or a Web site that is visually interesting.

One last note: I’m glad Reisenger is a “tweeter” and not a “twitterer” — because “twitterer” just sounds silly.

Because I am a college student and work at the college, I spend several hours every day on the college campus. As I walk around campus, one of the things that I have noticed is the way girls dress. I don’t want to sound sexist or demeaning, but hear me out.

By my guess, about half of the time the clothes girls wear at the college are fine — I wouldn’t consider them skanky, slutty, or otherwise unnecessarily revealing. (Do I sound like a conservative bigot yet? Just wait, there’s more!) Interesting enough, the ones who dress more appropriately are generally less trendy, stylish, and post-modern. Conversely — and I have noticed this particularly among recent high school graduates — the more trendy girls have a tendency to wear very short shorts (with huge belt buckles), huge sunglasses (indoors!), and shirts that expose their midriffs.

This social behavior isn’t exactly surprising. Some girls dress more nicely, while others dress in a more revealing manner. That’s their decision, and it isn’t my job to tell either of them how they should or should not dress; and besides that, the eye-candy isn’t too bad on campus!

What I have observed that I find one part humorous, one part curious is the tendency that girls who wear shorter shorts or tighter t-shirts to reach behind themselves and tug on their clothing, as if to cover their exposed skin. I find this funny because, well, if you don’t want people staring at your butt or stomach, you should probably wear clothes that actually fit! The curious part is that, despite her supposed modesty (evidenced by her subconsciously realizing she is showing too much skin and trying to cover herself), a trendy girl doesn’t seem willing to give up the way she dresses in order to rectify the bothersome task of frequently tugging on her clothes. Is it simply that they don’t realize it consciously, or are they too determined to show off their goods? Do they feel compelled to adhere to what they consider societal normality? Certainly most of them are not dressing this way because they are, in fact, sluts; if that were the case, they would not react modestly in public by tugging their clothes to hide their exposed skin.

Has society conditioned young girls to treat themselves in a way that they would ordinarily be opposed to so that they can fit in or be more immediately assimilated into society? Is this just the next step of the American cultural evolution that started with flappers in the 1920s nearly a century ago?

This is just one of many social behaviors I’ve observed. There are others, and if you read my pointless musings from time to time, you’re liable to come across more of them. Feel free to discuss your thoughts on this topic in the comments. I’m not seeking an argument, but healthy discussion, so please don’t think that I am saying anything sexist, hateful, demeaning, or otherwise unfair.

And that’s just the thing: planning a design is a critical part of developing how visitors will interact with it. If Snook’s current design didn’t have in mind the option to add a floating comment form, then naturally it would not make sense for him to implement such a form — it wouldn’t fit.

Likewise, since I developed this design for Slightly Remarkable several years ago (I can’t nail down the exact date, but it was sometime in 2006), I never considered the option of creating a floating or dockable comment form. Until the other day, when I decided that Snook’s idea was too indespensible to be forgotten like so many over-hyped “web 2.0″ ideas.

Now, let me say that I am not the first to have decided that a full redesign is unnecessary simply for the purpose of implementing a floating comment form feature. In fact, I believe that many feel this way. Derek Featherstone seemed to think so, which is why he wrote about the concept and how he implemented it into his design. Clever, yes?

I thought so, but I didn’t use Featherstone’s CSS/JavaScript. I opted for a slightly different route, requiring significantly less code (very little CSS, a tad JavaScript, and jQuery), excluding the use of the JavaScript library jQuery (which is actually fairly small, and I do intend to use it later — perhaps to include Ajax in my comment form — so it will be handy to have already cached). The script that I have written allows the comment form to appear normally, at the end of the list of comments, for users without JavaScript; for JavaScript users, however, it literally detaches the comment form from the page, hides it, and displays a nice little “Join the conversation” link button that floats in the bottom right-hand corner of the page. I may add icons to it to make it a little more noticeable, but that’s how it is for the time being. Let’s dig in, shall we?

The first step: modifying the comment form.

I am using Wordpress, so I’ll go ahead and show you how to do this using Wordpress. If you use any other software, you’ll have to do a little digging to find out where you can apply this modification — it’s probably fairly easy, though, since it’s very small change. In essence, you need only encapsulate your comment form <form> element in a <div>, and of course give that <div> an id. I called mine remarksform.

In Wordpress, this file is located in your /wp-content/themes/your-theme-name/comments.php file. With minimal PHP knowledge, you should be able to see where to place your <div> tag. I put mine just before the <h3> tag that says “Leave a Remark” and immediately after the closing </form> tag.

That’s all there is to modifying your (x)HTML. Technically, you could even achieve a dockable comment form without doing this, but I find it is a better idea to detach the entire <div> element, instead of just the <form>. Choose your poison.

Here’s an example of what your HTML might look like.

1. <div id="remarksform">
2. <h3 id="respond">Leave a Remark</h3>
3. <form action="http://slightlyremarkable.com/blog/wp-comments-post.php" method="post" id="commentform"><fieldset>
4. <legend>&nbsp;</legend><br><br>
5. <label>Name (required) <input type="text" class="input_text" name="author" id="author" value="" size="22"></label>
6. <label>Email (required) <input type="text" class="input_text" name="email" id="email" value="" size="22"></label>
7. <label>Web site <input type="text" name="url" id="url" class="input_text" value="" size="22"></label>
8. <label>Your remarks<br> <textarea name="comment" id="comment" cols="50" rows="10"></textarea></label>
9. <p class="commentnotes">Note: HTML is allowed. (<strong>&lt;a href=&quot;&quot; title=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;abbr title=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;acronym title=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;b&gt; &lt;blockquote cite=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;cite&gt; &lt;code&gt; &lt;del datetime=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;em&gt; &lt;i&gt; &lt;q cite=&quot;&quot;&gt; &lt;strike&gt; &lt;strong&gt; </strong>).</p><br>
10. <label><input name="submit" type="submit" id="submit" value="Submit Comment"></label>
11. <input type="hidden" name="comment_post_ID" value="220" class="hide">
12. <div class="hide"><input type="hidden" id="_wp_unfiltered_html_comment" name="_wp_unfiltered_html_comment" value="279925c214" /></div>
13. </fieldset></form></div>
14. Download this code: formexample.html

The second step: the CSS.

I’m going to outline the CSS that added to my main style.css file. Mileage may vary; you can modify this to your own accord. This may not make sense now, but it will make sense once we get to the meat of the floating comment form feature. For now, create the following CSS (replacing “remarksform” with the id that you gave your comment form <div>).

1. #remarksform {
2. width: 60%;
3. margin: 0 auto;
4. }
5.  
6. #sfloatform {
7. border: solid 1px #333;
8. position: fixed;
9. right: 5px;
10. bottom:0px;
11. background: #000;
12. width: 20%;
13. }
14.  
15. a.flink {
16. padding: 10px;
17. text-decoration: none;
18. color: #999;
19. display: block;
20. text-align: center;
21. }
22.  
23. #remarksform a.flink {
24. display: inline;
25. font-size: small;
26. }
27.  
28. a.flink:hover {
29. color: #fff;
30. font-weight: bold;
31. }
32. Download this code: styleadditions.css

Next up: jQuery

As I mentioned before, we’re going to make all this magic happen in just a few lines of code, but it’s going to be based upon the incredible jQuery JavaScript library, so go download it, and put it on a location on your server that you can access. I put mine in a js subdirectory in my theme directory. It looks like this: /wp-content/themes/slightlyremarkable3/js/jquery.js. Be sure to include this code in the <head> tag of your header.php file in your theme directory. Here’s what it might look like.

<script src="/wp-content/themes/slightlyremarkable3/js/jquery.js" type="text/javascript"></script>

Finally: the real stuff

So now that all the pieces are in place — we have the HTML as we need it, the CSS for styling elements (that don’t even exist — yet!), and the JavaScript library uploaded and in our header — we need to actually write a script that will produce the feature we’re aiming for: the floating comment form.

Create a new JavaScript file — I called my “functs.js,” since I plan to use it for general functionality later in addition to the comment form, but you can calls yours whatever you want. I also placed this file alongside jQuery in my /themes/your-theme-name/js/ directory. Below is the JavaScript file that does all of the magic for my floating comment form. I’ll explain it after you get to see it.

1. $(document).ready(function (){
2. commentform = $("#remarksform");
3.  
4. if(commentform.is("div")){
5.  
6. commentform.css({
7. position: "fixed",
8. width: "40%",
9. left: "59%",
10. bottom: "1%",
11. background: "#000",
12. border: 'solid 1px #333'
13. });
14.  
15. commentform.children("h3").append("<a href=\"#\" class=\"flink\" id=\"sfloatclose\">(Close me)</a>");
16. commentform.hide();
17.  
18. $("BODY").append("<div id=\"sfloatform\"><a href=\"#\" class=\"flink\">Join the conversation!</a></div>");
19.  
20. sfloatform = $("#sfloatform");
21. sfloatclose= $("#sfloatclose");
22.  
23. sfloatform.click(function (){
24. $(this).hide();
25. commentform.show('fast');
26. return false;
27. });
28.  
29. sfloatclose.click(function(){
30. commentform.hide('fast');
31. sfloatform.show();
32. return false;
33. });
34.  
35. }
36. });
37. Download this code: functs.js

All right, so 30-some-odd lines of code. Not bad, huh? Let’s break it down.

Line 1 is your standard “do not execute JavaScript until the DOM has completed loading” command. This is very common and ensures that our elements are in place and actually exist before it attempts to access or otherwise manipulate them. More information about the DOMReady function is available in the jQuery Wiki.

Line 2 declares a variable, called commentform, to reference the <div> element that encapsulates our comment form. Remember earlier I told you that I called mine remarksform; be sure to change this to your <div>’s id, otherwise this will not work.

Line 4 checks to ensure that you are using a <div> element. If you are not, you will need to change this to reflect it. I recommend the <div> for semantics. The reason this line even exists is simple: this <div> element is not present on pages that do not have a comment form — you do not want this code to run on a page that does not have a comment form, so this if statement dictates that the code should only run if your comment form can be found in the (x)HTML code on the current page.

Lines 6-13 apply CSS code to the commentform object. You could alternatively change the class name and apply these CSS rules to your stylesheet (which may be faster, but I haven’t done any testing, since this seems to work fine — anyone that does test it, be sure to let me know what’s better).

Also, notice that one of the CSS rules applied is the position: fixed style. This will not work in browsers that do not support position: fixed. This naturally means that the comment form may be broken or completely unusable in Internet Explorer 6. But, really, who uses that anymore? If it becomes a problem, I’ll update the script later with IE6 support.

Lines 15-16 create a “close me” link and apply it as part of the h3 heading. If you do not have an h3 element titling your form, then you will need to change this to another element above the form that you can attach a “close me” link to. Notice that the “close me” link also has a class called “flink.” You can change this as you please, but remember that you will need to modify your CSS code as well. Line 16 uses the jQuery hide() function to render the comment form (in its entirety) invisible. This is how we have effectively “detached” the entire comment form area from the page.

Line 18 creates a link button that will be used to evoke the comment form. We don’t want to have the comment form floating around on top and in the way of everything, or hogging up screen real-estate unnecessarily, so of course we’re going to have it hidden by default, and then have a pleasant little link button that will bring it up when it’s needed. This is the opposite of the “close me” function. We have appended this link to the end of the body of our document. It has position: fixed already applied because of our CSS rules.

Lines 20-21 declare variables to identify (1) the sfloatform object (the link button we created in line 18) and (2) the sfloatclose object (the “close me” link that we attached to the h3 element earlier).

Lines 23-27 set the onClick event of the sfloatform object (the link button, line 18). Upon clicking the link button, it hides itself, shows the commentform object using jQuery’s default smooth transition (this can be controlled, by the way, and made to appear however you like!), and returns false so that the link doesn’t jump you to the top of the page (because its href is set to “#”).

Lines 29-33 set the onClick event of the sfloatclose object (the “close me” link, line 15). Upon clicking the “close me” button, the entire commentform object is hidden (once again, using jQuery’s default smooth transition, and this is customizable to different kinds of transitions such as fading out), the sfloatform object (link button, line 18) is once again revealed, and again the function returns false to avoid page-jumping.

Clean up

That’s about all there is to it. Do note that this script probably makes your comment form look terrible in Internet Explorer 6 or earlier, so if you’re aiming to continue supporting older versions of IE6, then the script will require some modifications. I’ll be happy to update the script with an IE6-compatible version if I get enough requests for it. Otherwise, enjoy the script. If you have questions, post a comment (using the notably amazing comment form). I’m also open to suggestions, such as better transitions or other, more intuitive ways of using the floating comment form idea.

Update: Jonathan Snook has imparted his wisdom by confirming April 2005 was when the floating comment form became a reality. Links updated accordingly. Thanks, Jonathan.

Update 2: I booted up VMWare for kicks, popped IE6/WinXP open to see what abomination IE6 has made of my Web site. It’s bad — real bad — but the comment form does actually show up, so besides looking like a pile of crap, the Web site actually works (with JavaScript errors). Well, at least it’s not a big deal at the moment.

Update 3: Ideas for changes to my script follow.

• IE6 support (speak of the devil)
• Class-based link button functionality (any (x)HTML element with a specific class-name will evoke the floating comment form)
• Ajax support
• Replying to specific comments (via Ajax)
• A Wordpress widget/plugin