Holy cow, I just put in an order for a 15.2" Powerbook G4 (1GHz, 1GB RAM, 60GB HD, SuperDrive). I've joined the Apple cult.

Over the past few months, I've become totally and utterly convinced that the new combination of the G4 and Jaguar (Apple's latest incarnation of OS X) represents the best of all possible worlds. I haven't heard a single negative thing about it (check out this insanely positive review). Here's a single platform that runs all my favourite Linux tools, all the usual productivity software that's available for Mac (including Powerpoint and Illustrator, the two things I still can't do conveniently in Linux), and the even better stuff that's Mac-specific. The last thing I needed to be convinced of was that my own software would run on it. Well, I've received reports from others (I think she was in Sydney) that my Java programs work fine on OS X. Then, last week, Chris hooked his Powerbook up to the internet. I logged in remotely from home, downloaded my C++ source, built it, and ran it back on my home display without a problem. It's a beautiful Mac product built on top of a solid UNIX core! Such wonders!

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy mucking around with Linux internals, bashing on my installation in an effort to get everything to work the way I want. Nath will attest to this. On the other hand, there's something to be said for a computer that works exactly right with no need for tweaking. Or at least where the tweaking is done via a pretty tweak-o-matic interface with sliders that control exactly the sort of tweaking you'd like to do.

Apple is capable of making weird decisions. Of taking their products down strange roads. But this time, I think they've got it exactly right. I look forward to testing this hypothesis.

[update: 25 February at 06:30]: I heard back about my order yesterday. It'll take about three to six weeks for my Powerbook to arrive. At first, I thought this was because it was being ordered from the same incompetent goobers responsible for getting me my desktop machine and monitor. But no, I did some checking, and it would take the same amount of time to get the machine from other places. The problem is that my request for 1GB RAM makes it a custom order, and they have to build the machine for me specially. Alas.

[update: 07 April at 19:51]: I should mention that the Powerbook arrived safe and sound about ten days ago. Yes, it's every bit as wonderful as I had hoped.

The other day, I bought a 128MB USB keychain storage device. Just to explain, this is a little gizmo the size of a swiss army knife that holds 128MB of arbitrary data and connects easily to any modern PC. It's a convenient way to move a blob of data between machines, or to carry around some files (say, a presentation) if you go to a conference. There's also a nice project to fit a Linux distribution on one of these things, so that you could stick it in the back of a PC and poof: instant Linux. I bought a simple one that's just storage. Fancier versions double as tiny MP3 players.

Anyway, I stuck this thing on my keychain and left it there, awaiting a time when it would save the day. Unfortunately, it quickly started to deteriorate. First, I lost the cap that protects the USB connector. I guess it's my problem that I lost it, but come on -- the cap should have been designed to attach more snugly so that it wouldn't wander off quite as easily as it did. Then, this morning, the little chain that connects the gizmo to my keychain snapped. Sheesh -- what a flimsy piece of crap!

I'm all in favour of these little tools becoming practical additions to one's keychain, the way that pocket knives are. But if so, they have to be as durable as pocket knives! My Leatherman hasn't required a lick of adjustment since I received it on June 26th, 1998. USB keychains should be fabricated from die-cast metal, and feature snap-on, or better yet screw-on caps. Or maybe we could combine the storage with the pocket knife and I could unfold a USB plug from my Leatherman along with the tweezers and knife.

[update: 25 February at 06:26]: Happily, Office Depot allowed me to return my pathetic excuse for a USB data storage device. As a result, I'm once again in the market for this kind of toy. This time I'll look for one that's built to withstand the harsh environment of my pocket.

Over lunch recently, the subject of sports came up (obviously not through any action of my one). One person mentioned that it was a scientific fact that the more intensely you root for your favourite team while watching them on TV, the better they'll do. So the sweaty brow and white knuckles you develop sitting on the couch really do make a difference. Of course, yelling matters too. In fact, it's a very important part of rooting.

That's when the idea hit me. Video games come with all sorts of unusual interfaces, dancing being a recent hit. But has there ever been a yelling interface? This is maybe less than practical in an already-noisy arcade, but what a great idea for the living room! You could enhance your favourite sports video game (say, hockey) by yelling at your team. The console would have a microphone and would measure the amount of yelling done by all the players. The team whose player yells the loudest gets a slight boost in performance! Note that such an interface is not too far fetched; for example, Drew Olbrich's Phlegm program lets the user paint via a spitting interface.

Of course, the ultimate use of a yelling interface would be curling, where yelling is already an integral part of the game. I think this would make an absolutely fantastic video game. You use a joystick or other conventional interface to release the stone. Then, just as in curling, you guide your players by screaming your lungs out at them: "Sweep! Sweeeeep! Hurry! HURRY!!!!" The better your screaming, the better they do at guiding the stone. Oh man, I get misty-eyed just thinking about this idea. I would love to play it. As if curling weren't already silly.