Brian Eno wants you to think about time. Not in terms of the three minute pop song, the 30 second TV spot, a day in the life, or fame’s fleeting fifteen. He wants to change your concept of “now” by stretching your notion of time. To that end, consider the date of this post to be August 20, 02007. Like a lonely zero at the far left of an automobile odometer that patiently waits to turn every 100,000 miles, the leading zero in the year 02007 gives life to the expectation that we will need that extra digit. And, like a car we expect to drive for 220,000 miles, if we want to use that fifth date year digit, we’d better take care of the maintenance. Continue Reading »

Recently, I’ve been driven to seek content online that I could have consumed via my Time Warner Cable tether. Televised content on the web is a different proposition than video that originated on the web. “TV on the web” implies a crossover of content from broadcast or cable delivery to IP delivery; effectively acting as video on demand, a source of show excerpts, or a fountain of “extras” such as behind the scenes footage, interviews, promos, etc. In Part 1 of “Missed Opportunities” I’ll take a look at one trek to the web for televised content that I think is rife with missed opportunities. Subsequent parts in the series will look at other online outlets for televised content and note their hits and misses. Continue Reading »

MyDamnChannel hit the web and was within minutes dubbed a “Funny Or Die Clone.” Was someone holding an embargoed press release? Dunno. I’ll get beyond just cribbing from the press release and quickly clicking a couple of things to look at MyDamnChannel in more depth.

First, the press release regurgitation: “My Damn Channel launches an entertainment studio and new media platform created to empower artists to co-produce, distribute and monetize original, episodic video content. Comedians, musicians and filmmakers will develop short-form series and retain total artistic control of their own web channels.”

On to the content… Continue Reading »

The United States Congress is 84% male. And 84% white. Whether that is a representation of the people they serve (and whether interests are ably represented, unaligned as electees are with the race, gender and class of their constituents) has been debated for as long a white men have dominated governing bodies, though that discussion tends to occur outside of deliberative chambers.

Now that public discourse on the important matters of the day takes place online, the magical democratizing power of the internet has transformed the world into an egalitarian utopia where every idea is represented… where thoughtful discourse breaks the sound bite barrier of talking head TV… where where everyone has a voice… –well everyone with enough disposable income to afford high speed access, a computer and copious leisure time to surf, spout off, post inane videos and buy porn.

That pretty much means white guys. Continue Reading »

Some appreciate the convenience and customized feel that cookies bring to web browsing. Others prefer a more anonymous existence; foregoing the personalization of their experience –being recognized at favorite destinations– in order to limit the collection of data about their online habits. If your key ring is a fistful of shopper loyalty fobs, you probably don’t care about online tracking. If you fear paper trails, change passwords constantly, keep cash in your mattress, know what an onion proxy is, and avoid daylight’s revealing glare, you’re probably more than a little concerned about privacy (and that knock on the door may be Homeland Security with a demonstration of real tracking). If you’re like most, you rest somewhere in between.

Who’s keeping tabs on you? Continue Reading »

If I had my way, every person who picked up the cam-du-jour to add to the tubeness of the world would hear echoes of dear old dad saying, “Uh… wait a minute there. What EXACTLY do you think you’re about to do with my [choose one: power tool, Hustler magazine, bottle of gin, lacy red bra]?” and when reaching for the red button their finger would twitch as a frayed synapse recoiled in memory of daddy’s [choose one: misfiring berreta, stinging backhand, profuse obscenities, lacy red bra].

“And you may ask yourself, ‘How do I work this?’”

Better yet, ask yourself, “Why video?” Continue Reading »