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The Smartphone Model Is Rotten: You Don’t Own Your Device

January 9, 2023

Let’s be clear, I’m not breaking any new ground here. The topic described by the heading has been talked about and analyzed a lot. And for good reason: The smartphone model – that is, the way smartphones are designed and sold – is rotten to the core. The subtitle might give you a hint why: You don’t really own the device you paid for and purchased.

What you own is the temporary, easily withdrawn right to operate the device for a short, undefined period of time.

Perhaps you’ve either realized this yourself or you’ve read about it elsewhere. As I said, I’m not breaking any new ground. Nonetheless, in this post I will share the… Kafkaesque experience I recently had with “my” smartphone – the model of which isn’t important; they’re all the same disaster.

At the same time, I will bring to your attention some menacing repercussions you might not have thought of, some news you might have not heard. Put simply, the… smartphone model of doing business is spilling over into other industries with potentially dystopian consequences.

How would you like not to own your car? Or, here’s a better one: How would you like the right to operate “your” car to be revoked if, say, you left a nasty review about the manufacturer?

smartphone model
There are many things to dislike about smartphones. One of them, they’ve facilitated a whole generation of people who take videos at concerts, missing the experience
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When Modernity Fails: How Dracula Foretold the Great War

March 8, 2021

Before I say another word, here’s a disclaimer. Yes, the subtitle is somewhat misleading, albeit catchy. Bram Stoker’s Dracula didn’t quite foretell the Great War, that is WW1, in the sense it didn’t intend to. What happens in Dracula – and the reason this post exists – is that Stoker, reflecting the cultural milieu of the late 19th century, subconsciously included in his magnum opus the reasons why modernity fails. These reasons partly overlap with the reasons behind the Great War.

Perhaps what is more important in all this is that the reasons don’t seem to be all that different today. More than a hundred years later, modernity fails us again. Crucially, modernity fails us for the same reasons. We’re dealing with somewhat altered dynamics, of course, yet the basic ingredients are the same.

We’ll begin by taking a brief look at the historical context of Dracula – the cultural milieu I referred to. Then we’ll see how Stoker’s novel explains why modernity fails, and how that relates to the Great War.

Like every self-respecting Gothic work, Dracula hides a complex nexus of meaning. Blood-sucking vampires only form the skin layer, but the heart – no pun intended – of the novel contains a multitude of allegories, many of which are not the result of conscious authorial work.

why modernity fails
I imagine Mina Harker to look like that; calm and welcoming on the surface, but deep down ambiguous and fascinatingly unreliable. She’s also the embodiment of why modernity fails in Dracula.
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Anapest Generator: a JavaScript Poem Maker

February 17, 2019

My JavaScript iambic pentameter generator is among the most popular articles on this blog. If you liked that, you’re gonna love today’s article. I decided to make an anapest generator with a rhyme! It’s a JavaScript poetry generator using an anapest, that is, a poem with anapestic meter.

anapest generator
Could the pen really write with the might of the sword?
(see what I did there?) 😉

An anapest, or anapestic meter, is a metrical foot consisting of two unstressed syllables followed by a stressed one. Perhaps the most famous example of an anapestic poem (also mentioned in my article on poetry) is Lord Byron’s “The Destruction of Sennacherib”.

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

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