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So, I was one of the new folks that joined Google+ early on, and got a large portion of my social graph baked in almost immediately.
Knowing mostly techies seems to help in this regard… 🙂

But, recently, I’m starting to feel fairly concerned when it comes to Google, using Plus, and generally interacting with the search giant.

I’m a fairly typical techie Google user, I suspect – just about 7k emails archived away, a set of filters to reduce the noise threshhold of my inbox, the usual.

But what if Google decided that my name isn’t really a name, tomorrow? They’ve been closing accounts recently, now that Plus has arrived, and I’ve a almost a decade of history wrapped up in their services.

Almost a decade. That’s an appreciable portion of my entire life.

Couple this with Google’s notorious lack of customer support, leaving me in the position of, should I truly be banned, having no recourse save shouting blindly into the ether of Hacker News, or Slashdot, or somewhere, hoping to catch the eye of an influential party.

And let’s face it, I’m just not famous enough to warrant that sort of response.

As it’s been almost a decade, chances are looking pretty good that this isn’t going to happen – but this does little to alleviate my concerns.

The further question I had to ask regarding this is, how much really dovetails with Google wanting real names to better associate with marketing data? How useful is all that advertising association really going to be if you’ve got to wade through a thousand Icy Weiners?

Google wants me for my ability to generate better advertising data, better profiling data so that I can be shown just the right ads that will make me LEAP forth, click the link, and buy stuff. That’s pretty much the reason Google+ exists.

So why am I concerned at all?

aurynn@gmail is me. It’s the deep, abiding nexus of everything that I am online, the central and consistent email address that I have and continue to use.
Google makes a huge push into the realm of social networking, and Google’s strength in advertising makes it pretty obvious as to why.
They control who I portray online, and they control the databases that know everything about my browsing and searching, and now about my social graph.

And tomorrow, they could just turn me off. What would I do then?

What could I do?

Facebook has my graph too, but it doesn’t bear the weight of importance that Google currently has in my life. I don’t need my Facebook account, I don’t need to know that tomorrow it’ll be there, that all my history will be there.

With Google? I do. And I think I need to stop that.

Initial Thoughts on the iPad

So, on June the sixth, I bought an iPad. A 3G 32GB iPad, s decently midrange piece of hardware.

As yet, I’ve had it for the last day, and I have to say, this is one of the most amazing pieces of hardware I’ve had the pleasure to use.
Charles Stross mentioned that the iPad was functionally equivalent to the Young Ladies’ Primer from Neal Stephensons “The Diamond Age”, and the more i use the iPad the more I have to agree with that sentiment. Smooth, easy to use, easy to hold, and feels like a dream finally come true.

That’s all the normal iPad gushing that you might hear. In reality, I’m really noticing that while the hardware has no major flaws, my life lacks a hole that the iPad actually fills. It’s a world changing device, but it’s not what you would immediately expect to be a world changing device.

I am intensely reminded of the time that I bought my original iPhone – intensely interesting, even intriguing hardware, but I had no real place for it. The necessary je nai sais quoi was lacking, and the iPad carries the same base embodiment. It’s powerful, useful, chromey and wonderful, but does not solve an immediate need. The app store is also a little too young to really have any amazing, world-changing applications on it. It has the potential, and I will not regret this purchase, but as yet the potential is largely unrealized.

Also, just for the pleasure of writing the fact, I wrote this entre article on the iPad, entirely in the on-screen keyboard, which, I will note, I am fully able to touch-type on.

Just think about that for a moment. I can touch type, with a great deal of accuracy, on a purely software keyboard against my thighs as I lay in bed.

The future is here, and she is Apple. All hail Discordia.

Aspire AS1410/1810 ICC profile

For your consideration, a ICC profile for the Aspire 1410/1810 systems:

This was generated with argyll-cms, LAB gamma, native LCD whitepoint (No imposed whitepoint).
I’ve noticed that this profile cuts most of the excessive blue out of the LCD, and makes it quite usable on a day-to-day basis. Enjoy, all.

Updates on the Aspire 1410

A few updates, after some usage of the Aspire 1410 Netbook:

* Out of the box, the BIOS does not support the VT-x extensions. I found this to be a huge, glaring oversight. Fortunately, the latest BIOS rev, 1.3303, resolves this.
* The keyboard is springy and annoying, even though the full-sized keys are nice.
* The battery life is fairly decent, giving about 4 hours of runtime on the 4400mAh stock battery.
* Mouse buttons are a bit finicky, at times.
* Ubuntu support, while excellent, does have some minor issues.
* The dual Celeron CPU is very fast, and very useful, in this machine.
* The lack of the PCIe slot is really irritating.
* I should have gotten 2x2GB of PC2-800 memory, instead of PC2-667.


Green moss coats the slick sidewalk, brilliant leaves glisten moistly.
It’s been raining for days. The very air smells wet, and cold. Alive.
Trees fly skyward, carrying life questing towards the distant, fog-hidden sun.

Winter hibernation mixes with verdant flora, the awake and the sleeping. From the cold and desolate north, I do not expect leaves in January.


It isn’t cold here, not like Calgary. No deep freeze that cracks pipes and forces us to run from storefront to storefront, hiding from the wintry chill.

January. Leaves, and warmth.

I love it here.

A sketchbook

A new sketchbook, a hundred pages and more, fresh for graphite and concept, fresh for ink and final thoughts.
Pages of soft curl, moistened by the humid reach of Oregon rain.
Soft, joyous cream, pages warm and pleasing.
A hundred doors and more, places of what could be, of fanciful flight and moments warm, of soft summer days yet to come, of winter nights in reflective solitude.

A hundred stories yet to tell, a passage void to explore, by leisure and desire, that all may see a one-day created light.

A hundred pages, and all the maybes and forevermores, in all unbridled tomorrows.

A hundred, yours.