: Maxwell Smart always "missed it by that much," but some of those dopey spy shows of the '60s were right on the money. "Many of the devices first seen in movies and on TV actually came about," says Robert Wallace, former head of the CIA's covert skunk works, the Office of Technical Services. "Remember the Cone of Silence? We built shielded enclosures that did the same thing. And the pen communicator in The Man From U.N.C.L.E.? That evolved, 10 years later, into short-range agent communication." Wallace, who was basically the agency's real-life Q, reveals these gadgets and more in his new book, Spycraft, the first comprehensive look at the technical achievements of American espionage from the 1940s to the present. "Here's the laboratory," Wallace used to tell new recruits. "The only thing that is going to limit what you can do is your imagination." It seems they took him at his word.
1940s Cigarette gun
Lipping this pistol disguised as a cigarette, an agent could easily release the safety pin. Rotating the filter end counterclockwise armed the gun, and a push of the thumb caused it to fire a single .22-caliber bullet. It really worked.
Illustration: Steve Sanford
: An ordinary-looking bound notebook contained pages of Pyrofilm and came packaged with an incendiary pencil. To prevent notes from falling into the wrong hands, an agent could simply pull the eraser out of the pencil, causing the notebook to burst into flames.
Illustration: Steve Sanford
: During an hour-long procedure, techs embedded a 3/4-inch transmitter in the skull of a live cat. An antenna made of very fine wire was woven into the cat's fur, and a microphone was placed in its ear canal. After setting the kitty free, agents could listen in on nearby conversations undetected. Cats being cats, however, the system proved unreliable.
Illustration: Steve Sanford
: When it comes to a "dead drop" — a hiding place where spies leave messages — nothing's better (or deader) than a dead rat. Who's going to look inside unless they have to? CIA techs gutted a rat carcass, inserted secret missives wrapped in foil, and then stitched the animal back together. To ward off scavengers, the rodent was often doused in Tabasco.
Illustration: Steve Sanford
: A working Seiko timepiece concealed the world's smallest point-and-shoot camera. The device held a 15-inch strip of auto-advancing film and could snap about 100 crisp shots. A quick twist of the watch face revealed a 4-millimeter-diameter lens. It was a successful and widely used spy tool in its day.
Illustration: Steve Sanford
: A remotely piloted aerial vehicle disguised as a dragonfly could carry cameras and audio sensors right into the lion's den. This mobile eavesdropping bug never got off the ground.
Illustration: Steve Sanford

Also on Portfolio
If Phoenix Finds Life on Mars, Do You Cheer or Cry?
Another Airline Bites the Dust
McClellan: He's Both Right and Wrong
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineBy virtue of mathematical coincidence, every million dollars that Netflix C.E.O. Reed Hastings spends to build a digital download service for his DVD-by-mail company sucks away roughly one penny of profit from each share of its stock.
The simplicity of the calculation could grow increasingly inconvenient for Hastings as he and his management team fend off criticism from investors who prefer profits in their pockets rather than risk building a parallel business of streaming movies and TV shows over the internet.
"We're spending a lot of money," Chief Financial Officer Barry McCarthy said at an analyst conference earlier this week, "and if we fall on our face I have no doubt investors will vote us off the island."
The death of the DVD looms over Netflix like an elderly uncle who pays the rent. When he finally moves on, Netflix had better have another source of income.
But at what cost? Hastings spent $40 million last year to build up a library of 10,000 movies and TV shows that its 8 million subscribers can watch online. He's partnering with consumer electronics companies to build Netflix streaming capabilities into TVs, DVD players and set-top boxes.
As inspirational as it sounds, transformation costs money—as much as $70 million this year, or 70 cents a share in 2008 profits. And investors want to know in the cold language of accounting what the financial benefit is for each dollar spent on buying the rights to show a movie online.
Hastings this week asked investors to bear with him for a few years as he primes the pump for a new business model. To that end, he invented a metric that he asks analysts to use in judging his online strategy: The number of TVs and other Internet-connected consumer electronics with Netflix software built in.
Hastings calls it the Dolby model—making Netflix reception as ubiquitous as the noise-reduction technology. LG Electronics, the South Korean company, is already on board, as is a start-up company called Roku that makes a $100 Netflix-on-TV box.
"I think the way to measure us is the number of millions of Netflix-ready devices installed in homes," Hastings told investors. "If that's a big number at the end of '09, then our strategic investment has greatly paid off. If it's a small number, you have every right to be whiny about management having wasted a lot of money."
Analysts were not convinced. Michael Pachter, who covers Netflix for Wedbush Morgan Securities, said he would prefer that Netflix stick to selling movie-rental subscriptions, not giving investment analysis. "I don't really care what they think we should focus on," he said. "I would never presume to tell them how to do their job."
Pachter has pushed the company to disclose more about the nuts and bolts of its online investment. He points out that if Netflix spends $70 million this year for a service used by 100,000 customers, it works out to $700 per customer.
"I would say they're crazy; it's not worth it," Pachter said. The math only makes sense as the number of users increases dramatically, he added. At 7 million users of Netflix online, for example, the annual investment comes to $10 per customer, or 85 cents a month. "I would support that," Pachter said.
For now, Netflix doesn't disclose these kinds of figures. The $70 million figure is Pachter's estimate based on data in the company's first-quarter earnings release. He reckons that more than 1 million Netflix subscribers have tried the online feature, but there's no official word from the company. "They have an overdeveloped sense of secrecy in the name of competitive disadvantage," Pachter said.
If enough analysts go for it, Hastings' pro-forma figure of installed Netflix-ready devices would be a stroke of investor-relations brilliance. The company could win enough support to fend off short-term-minded investors who want to be rich and retired in Hawaii by the time the DVD business dies in 20 years.
Hastings may already know that he's got this pro forma figure covered. Pachter, who also covers video games, says he is confident that Netflix will soon unveil a partnership with Microsoft to make its service available on Xbox 360 consoles—of which there are 10 million in the U.S. (Hastings sits on Microsoft's board.)
"I'm kind of baffled why the two companies don't think they should announce that before it's up and ready for the consumer," Pachter said.
Netflix spokesman Steve Swasey declined to comment on unannounced partners.
SAN DIEGO -- Christopher Tarnovsky feels vindicated. The software engineer and former satellite-TV pirate has been on the hot seat for five years, accused of helping his former employer, a Rupert Murdoch company, sabotage a rival to gain the top spot in the global pay-TV wars.
But two weeks ago a jury in the civil lawsuit against that employer, NDS Group, largely cleared the company -- and by extension Tarnovsky -- of piracy, finding NDS guilty of only a single incident of stealing satellite signals, for which Dish was awarded $1,500 in damages.
"I knew this was going to come," Tarnovsky says. "They didn't have any proof or evidence."
The trial was years in the making, yet raised more questions than it answered. It came down to testimony between admitted pirates on both sides who accused each other of lying. Now that it's over Tarnovsky, who was fired by NDS last year, is eager to tell his side of the story.
Dressed in loose jeans, flip-flops and a T-shirt, Tarnovsky, 37, spoke with Wired.com by phone and in an air-conditioned lab in Southern California where he's been running a consultancy since losing his job. Surrounded by boxes of smart cards and thousands of dollars worth of microscopes and computers used for researching chips, he talked excitedly at lightning speed about his strange journey, which began in a top-secret Pentagon communications center, and ended with him working both sides of a heated electronic war over pay TV.
Satellite-TV hacker Chris Tarnovsky opens his laboratory to Threat Level reporter Kim Zetter, providing a unprecedented peek into the world of smart-card hacking.
Editor: Annaliza Savage
Camera: Steve Raines
His story sheds new light on the murky, morally ambiguous world of international satellite pirates and those who do battle with them.
The stakes are high: Earnings in the satellite-TV industry reach the billions. In the first quarter of this year alone, U.S. market leader DirecTV announced revenue of $4.6 billion from more than 17 million U.S. subscribers. Dish Network earned $2.8 billion from nearly 14 million subscribers. Although satellite piracy has greatly diminished from its peak seven to 10 years ago when the events detailed in the civil lawsuit took place, the two companies lost millions in potential revenue, and spent millions more to replace insecure smart cards used in their systems and track down dealers selling pirated smart cards.
Those smart cards are at the center of the controversy over NDS, a British-Israeli company and a majority-owned subsidiary of Murdoch's News Corp. The company makes access cards used by pay-TV systems, most prominently DirecTV -- itself a former Murdoch company. Nagrastar, a plaintiff in the case and NDS's chief competitor, makes access cards used by Dish Network and other runners-up in the market.
According to allegations in the lawsuit, in the late '90s NDS extracted and cracked the proprietary code used in Nagrastar's cards, a fact that NDS doesn't contest. What happened next, though, is hotly disputed. Nagrastar says Tarnovsky used the code to create a device for reprogramming Nagrastar cards into pirate cards, and gave the cards to pirates eager to steal Dish Network's programming. Tarnovsky was also accused of posting to the internet a detailed road map for hacking Nagrastar's cards.
Nagrastar says NDS had an obvious motive for these antics: Their own chip, the so-called P1 or "F Card," had already been thoroughly cracked by pirates, and the company wanted to level the playing field with its competitors.
NDS denied the allegations at trial. The company declined to comment for this article or to confirm details of Tarnovsky's employment other than to say it was pleased that the verdict "ended in a resounding affirmation of NDS and its business ethics and proper conduct."
Tarnovsky began his pirating career in the '90s while serving in the U.S. Army. He had a top-secret SCI security clearance working on cryptographic computers in Belgium for NATO headquarters, and spent a year at Ft. Detrick in Maryland providing support to the National Security Agency for satellite transmissions to Europe.
In 1996, he was stationed in Germany when his colonel sold him a used satellite-TV system, along with two pirated access cards, neither of which worked. Tarnovsky began posting on online pirate forums, and developed contacts in the community, ultimately learning how to fix the cards to access English-language programs from Sky in the United Kingdom.
After leaving the Army and returning to the States, he got a call from Ron Ereiser, a Canadian pirate who'd heard about him through the grapevine. Pirates had found a back door in the P1 card and were vigorously exploiting it to get DirecTV content. But the cards kept failing. In a game of pirate pingpong, DirecTV periodically deployed electronic countermeasures, or ECMs, in the satellite stream that killed the cards in their set-top boxes. Ereiser needed someone to fix the cards.
There was serious black-market money on the line. In Canada, where pirating of U.S. satellite services wasn't considered illegal until 2002, syndicates of dealers did enough business that they could afford to chip in about $50,000 to hire a programmer to reverse engineer the latest cards. Pirate cards would sell for about $200 each, with the profit split between the investors and engineers. Tarnovsky claims Canadian pirate dealers could make $400,000 in a weekend; when Reginald Scullion, a notorious pirate in Canada, was raided in 1998, authorities seized $5.5 million from his bank accounts and safe-deposit boxes, though not all of it was from piracy.
Ereiser, who now works as a consultant to Nagrastar, concedes that the money from piracy was good, but insists that nobody became an overnight millionaire. "It was lucrative," he said in a telephone interview. "But to suggest that millions were being made in a month is an absolute crock."
DirecTV's countermeasures were a nagging drag on this lucrative trade. Every time an ECM was deployed, Ereiser and other dealers would be harangued by customers demanding to have the cards fixed and their TV programs restored.
Tarnovsky, who was known online as "Big Gun," says Ereiser offered him $20,000 to fix cards that were killed by ECMs, and he agreed. Each time NDS created a countermeasure, Tarnovsky would analyze the code and find a way to circumvent the countermeasure. He did it while working full-time as a software engineer for a semiconductor company in Massachusetts.
"I'd be at work and I'd check the IRC (channel) to see if they'd launched their Thursday countermeasure yet," he says. "It was like a chess game for me. I couldn't wait for them to do a countermeasure because I would counter it in minutes."
Tarnovsky suffers from attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, which he says helped with the detailed work.
"I think so fast," he says.
It wasn't long before NDS came courting. Tarnovsky had a contact at the company to whom he'd begun passing information about holes in its software, even supplying patches to fix them. NDS offered him a job earning $65,000 a year. By the time the company fired him last year, he was earning about $245,000 in salary and bonuses and had another $100,000 in stock options, he says.
The company set him up in a lab in Southern California equipped with a computer, some DirecTV set-top boxes, sample DirecTV cards and NDS source code. There was no fancy equipment at first, but his relationship with NDS and the lab grew over the decade he worked with them. Tarnovsky says the job was a dream come true. While living in Europe he'd once seen a news report showing an engineer at a French satellite company writing countermeasures, sitting in a lab with smart cards piled around him on his desk.
"I always thought it would be so cool to be that guy," Tarnovsky says. "Finally I got the chance."
Tarnovsky had two roles at NDS -- to find holes in its software and work undercover with pirates to discover what they were doing against NDS technology.
To conceal his relationship with NDS from pirates, few people at the company knew his identity. He used the name "Michael George" and for the first four years was paid through other companies, including, for about five months, HarperCollins, the Murdoch-owned book publisher.
"It was very hush-hush, because we didn't know who could be an inside informant," he says.
Part of his job was developing ECMs for NDS. He'd examine pirate NDS cards to determine how they worked, then send instructions to engineers in Israel to create a kill for them.
"I didn’t actually load the gun and pull the trigger but I got to make the bullet," Tarnovsky says.
Among the countermeasures he says he created was one known among pirates as the "Black Sunday" kill -- an elaborate scheme that destroyed tens of thousands of pirate DirecTV cards a week before Super Bowl Sunday in 2001.
Instead of being delivered all at once like other measures, the Black Sunday attack code was sent to pirate cards in about five dozen parts over the course of two months, like a tank transported piece by piece to a battlefield to be assembled in the field. "They never expected us to do this," Tarnovsky says.
The kill didn't last long before pirates found a way to jump-start the cards. But it holds an enduring position in pirate lore; for the first time, they could see a cunning mind at work on the other side.
While Tarnovsky was killing cards, however, he was also helping pirates fix them.
Days before Tarnovsky began working for NDS, the company began phasing in its latest-generation smart card, the P2, which was thought to be virtually uncrackable. But word reached the company that two Bulgarian hackers working for Ereiser had cracked the P2. On NDS's instructions, Tarnovsky met with Ereiser undercover in Calgary to get the code. When he got there, Ereiser offered him $20,000 to work for him fighting whatever countermeasures NDS and DirecTV cooked up to thwart their P2 hack.
NDS considered it a great opportunity for Tarnovsky to maintain his pirate identity, but DirecTV insisted on some controls. Under "Operation Johnny Walker," as they dubbed it, Tarnovsky gave Ereiser a program to create pirate NDS cards, but encrypted it so no one could copy it. The program worked only with a dongle attached to Ereiser's computer and created a limited number of cards that could be killed at any time.
But, according to Nagrastar, Tarnovsky wasn't just helping NDS fight piracy by working undercover and creating ECMs, he was also committing piracy against NDS's competitors to weaken their place in the market.
After NDS engineers in Israel hacked the Nagrastar code in the late '90s, Nagrastar says Tarnovsky created a "stinger" program that turned Nagrastar cards into pirate cards. He allegedly gave the program to a Canadian named Al Menard in 1999 who sold reprogrammed Nagrastar cards for $350 each. Then in December 2000, someone anonymously posted code and detailed instructions for hacking Nagrastar's card to two websites, one of them run by Menard, exposing Dish Network to even more piracy. It was estimated in court testimony that between 100,000 and 165,000 pirated Nagrastar cards were released to the market in the wake of this posting.
Nagrastar says Menard began sending Tarnovsky cash from the sale of the pirate cards. At the end of August 2000, authorities acting on an anonymous tip seized two boxes destined for a mail drop Tarnovsky rented in Texas. Inside, they found a CD and DVD player with $20,000 and $20,100 concealed inside.
The boxes were sent from a phony address for "Regency Audio" in Vancouver to C.T. Electronics at Tarnovsky's address. A customs form for a third package that wasn't seized indicated that it was sent from Menard to Tarnovsky and also contained electronic goods.
Tarnovsky was in Israel at the time, and says he didn't know anything about the packages until he was notified that they'd been seized. He thinks they were sent by someone in Nagrastar's camp who was trying to frame him. He says Nagrastar's accusations about the "stinger" program were baseless, and that he never gave Menard any software.
On Feb. 9, 2001, U.S. Customs agents appeared at his doorstep. On advice of a lawyer, he declined to let them search his house without a warrant. Tarnovsky was never arrested or charged with any crime, but suspicions against him were mounting. NDS gave Tarnovsky a polygraph test, but asked only two, self-interested questions that never touched on the Nagrastar accusations: Had Tarnovsky sold any modified NDS smart cards, or company secrets, since he'd been working for the company? Tarnovsky answered no, and passed the test.
He continued to work for NDS for six years. But then last year, Nagrastar confronted NDS with a sheriff's report showing that fingerprints lifted from the seized electronics equipment sent to Tarnovsky's Texas mail drop belonged to an associate of Menard, raising suspicions again that Tarnovsky might have sold pirate Nagrastar cards without NDS's knowledge. NDS fired him.
Tarnovsky says his termination proves he and NDS weren't conspiring against Nagrastar. Had they been, NDS would have done anything to keep him happy, and quiet. He says the fact that Nagrastar lost the case shows he wasn't pirating on his own either.
"I've never sold a single Nagra card, ever," he says.
Although he was angry at NDS for abandoning him, he told Wired.com before the trial ended that he hoped to work for the company again.
"I want to make sure that NDS wins this lawsuit because that will clear my name," he said at the time.
When it was suggested that someone might view this as motivation for him to lie on NDS's behalf, he disagreed.
"That's crazy. I could go to jail," he said. "I would never perjure myself for some company."
Since NDS fired him he's been consulting for two semiconductor companies and a manufacturer of dongle tokens, but he misses his life in electronic warfare. If NDS doesn't want him, he says he'd be happy to work for Nagrastar -- jumping sides once again.
"I could design a whole entire chip for them like I did for NDS," he says. "NDS thinks today that their technology is superior to everybody else's and it probably is, because they're 17 years ahead of Nagra technologically. But Nagra could catch up overnight if they used my services.
"I'm a very valuable asset as far as smart-card technology goes," he adds. "I know everything about (NDS) as far as their intellectual property models go."
He offered his services to the company last year, while the lawsuit was pending. Nagrastar declined.
1898: Two British researchers discover the element krypton. It's real, but it would inspire fantastic fiction.
William Ramsay, a Scot, and his student Morris Travers, an Englishman, were searching for gases in the helium family. They boiled a sample of liquefied air until they got rid of the water, oxygen, nitrogen, helium and argon. Then they placed the residue in a Plücker tube connected to an induction coil. It produced a spectrum with bright yellow and green lines.
Because they had suspected its presence, but had to look for it by removing all that other stuff, Ramsay and Travers gave the element with atomic number 36 the name krypton, from the Greek kryptos for hidden (think cryptography or encryption).
Within weeks, the scientifically dynamic duo had detected a duet of other noble gases: neon and xenon. Ramsay was already responsible for discovering helium (with Lord Rayleigh) in 1894 and argon in 1895, giving him ownership of nearly an entire column of the periodic table. (The noble gases used to be called the inert gases, but they have been found to be slightly reactive, forming compounds such as krypton difluoride and xenon tetroxide.)
King Edward VII made Ramsay a Knight Commander of the Order of Bath in 1902. Ramsay received the 1904 Nobel Prize in Chemistry.
Krypton has a variety of uses today: in flashes for high-speed photography, in fluorescent lights in combination with argon, and to make so-called neon signs that have a greenish-yellow light. (Neon itself glows red.) Between 1960 and 1983, the meter was defined as 1,650,763.73 wavelengths in a vacuum of the orange-red radiation of the krypton 86 isotope.
When Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster created Superman in Action Comics No. 1 (published June 1938), they named their superhero's home planet after the chemical element discovered 40 years earlier. Retellings of Superman's origins place his arrival on Earth around the time of World War I, a mere 20 years after Ramsay and Traver's discovery of krypton.
Siegel and Shuster may have been inspired by the element's cryptic name, its ghastly glow or perhaps just its sound, like George Eastman favoring the strength of the letter K.
Regardless, Superman and his legion of fans have made the fictional planet Krypton far better known than the real element. The fictional mineral kryptonite, which threatens Superman's strength and vitality, even has a real-life counterpart, almost.
Mining researchers in Jadar, Serbia, in 2007 unearthed some sodium lithium boron silicate hydroxide and learned that's what's written on a case of rock containing kryptonite in the film Superman Returns. "The new mineral does not contain fluorine," a mineralogist told the BBC, "and is white rather than green but, in all other respects, the chemistry matches that for the rock containing kryptonite."
But the miners named it jadarite, because the mineral does not contain the element krypton, and internationally accepted rules of nomenclature thus prevented it from being named kryptonite.
Spoilsports.
Then again, doesn't Jadar sound like the name of one of Superman's cousins or something on the planet Krypton?
Source: Various
As technology makes the world smaller, it's also helping more countries escape to the heavens. (Ground control to Major Olawale!) But don't start daydreaming of UN meetings on Mars and space walks for peace: These space programs are all about blasting surveillance tech, comet chasers, super telescopes, and celestial probes into the (increasingly crowded) cosmos.
Nigeria
Program Founded: 1998
Budget: $93 million (initial funding)
Yes, Nigeria actually has its own space agency. The organization sent up its first satellite, a weather unit, back in 2003. In May 2007, China assisted in the launch of NigComSat-1, which helps provide Internet access to rural areas of the country.
Algeria
Program Founded: 2002
Budget: Unknown
France helped establish a constellation of desert launch sites more than 60 years ago. In 2002, the newly formed Agence Spatiale Algerienne blasted up Alsat-1, a 200-pound cube that has beamed back more than 1,000 photos as well as intel for disaster relief.
Israel
Program Founded: 1983
Budget: $50 million (est.)
Israel's Shavit launch vehicle is used primarily for communications, imaging, and research satellites — always over the Mediterranean to avoid flying above hostile neighbors. The first Israeli astronaut, Ilan Ramon, died aboard the NASA shuttle Columbia.
India
Program Founded: 1972
Budget: $1 billion
India's space agency is racing to be the sixth program to reach the moon (after Russia, the US, Europe, Japan, and China) with Chandrayaan-1 — an $83 million lunar orbiter carrying NASA and ESA instruments. India aims to send up its own manned lunar mission by 2020.
Iran
Program Founded: 2003
Budget: $100 million
In October 2005, Iran launched its first satellite, Sina-1, aboard a Russian rocket. Earlier this year, the country fired its own rocket, Kavoshgar-1, designed to scout future orbital paths. By 2010, Tehran expects to deploy four additional satellites.
Brazil
Program Founded: 1994
Budget: $125 million
In 2003, an explosion on the launch pad took 21 lives. But Brazil rebounded the next year, when a VSB-30 rocket reached an altitude of 160 miles. In 2006, Marcos Pontes became the first Brazilian in space, floating aboard the International Space Station for eight days.
Japan
Program Founded: 2003
Budget: $2.5 billion
Japan has yet to build a spacecraft fit for humans. But it did send the first journalist into space: 18 years ago, Toyohiro Akiyama spent a week on the Russian space station Mir. The Japanese are eyeing a lunar landing in 2020 and hoping to build a base on the moon by 2030.
China
Program Founded: 1993
Budget: $2 billion (est.)
From the Gobi Desert, China sent its first human into orbit in 2003 — becoming the fourth agency to do so. Today, manned missions are taking off on a regular basis. Officials are planning China's first space walk this fall and expect to launch a moon rover by 2012.
European Space Agency
Program Founded: 1975
Budget: $5 billion
On the ESA's plate: launching the James Webb Space Telescope (with NASA and Canada) in 2013. The following year, its Rosetta spacecraft will meet up with 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko for the first long-term analysis of a comet.
Russia
Program Founded: 1920s
Budget: $1.5 billion
Russia helps fund its space program by licensing its rocket tech and assisting other countries' initiatives. (South Korea paid $25 million to send up its first citizen.) A joint effort with China aims to launch a soil-collecting satellite to the Martian moon Phobos in 2009.
* Wired apologizes to those countries funding space exploration that we did not mention, such as Argentina, Australia, Bulgaria, Chile, Colombia, the Czech Republic, Denmark, Egypt, Germany, Greece, Indonesia, Italy, Kazakhstan, Luxembourg, Malaysia, Mexico, the Netherlands, Norway, Pakistan, Poland, Portugal, Saudi Arabia, South Africa, Spain, Sweden, Thailand, Turkey, the UAE, the UK, and, likely, North Korea and Iraq.
Bernie Krause listens to nature for a living. The 69-year-old is a field recording scientist: He heads into the wilderness to document the noises made by native fauna — crickets chirping in the Amazon rain forest, frogs croaking in the Australian outback.
But Krause has noticed something alarming. The natural sound of the world is vanishing. He'll be deep inside the Amazon, recording that cricket, but when he listens carefully he also hears machinery: The distant howl of a 747 or the dull roar of a Hummer miles way.
Krause has a word for the pristine acoustics of nature: biophony. It's what the world sounds like in the absence of humans. But in 40 percent of the locations where Krause has recorded over the past 40 years, human-generated noise has infiltrated the wilderness. "It's getting harder and harder to find places that aren't contaminated," he says.
This isn't just a matter of aesthetics. The contamination of biophony may soon become a serious environmental issue — Krause says that man-made sounds are already wreaking havoc with animal communication. We worry about the carbon emissions from SUVs and airplanes; maybe we should be equally concerned about the racket they cause.
Krause's argument is simple. In a biophony, animals divide up the acoustic spectrum so they don't interfere with one another's voices. He shows me a spectrogram of a wilderness recording, in which all the component noises are mapped according to pitch. It looks like the musical score for an orchestra, with each instrument in its place. No two species are using the same frequency. "That's part of how they coexist so well," Krause says. When they issue mating calls or all-important warning cries, they aren't masked by the noises of other animals.
But what happens when man-made noise — anthrophony, as Krause dubs it — intrudes on the natural symphony? Maybe it's the low rumble of nearby construction or the high whine of a turboprop. Either way, it interferes with a segment of the spectrum already in use, and suddenly some animal can't make itself heard. The information flow in the jungle is compromised.
Krause has heard this happen all over the world. For example, the population of spadefoot toads in the Yosemite region of the Sierras is declining rapidly, and Krause thinks it's because of low-flying military training missions in the area. The toad calls lose their synchronicity, and coyotes and owls home in on individual frogs trying to rejoin the chorus.
And as Krause has discovered, it doesn't take much to disrupt a soundscape. California's Lincoln Meadow, for example, has undergone only a tiny bit of logging, but the acoustic imprint of the region has completely changed in tandem with the landscape, and some species seem to have been displaced. The area looks the same as ever, "but if you listen to it, the density and diversity of sound is diminished," Krause says. "It has a weird feeling."
Biologists were initially skeptical of Krause's theory, but he's slowly gaining converts. Now even bigwigs like Harvard's E. O. Wilson have gone on record in support.
So how do you quiet an increasingly cacophonous world? Perhaps we should be developing not just clean tech but "quiet" tech, industrial machinery designed to run as silently as possible. More regulations could help, too. Cities have long had noise ordinances; wilderness areas could benefit from tighter protections as well.
Some of this is just about educating ourselves. We all recognize ecological tragedies by sight — when we see pictures of clear-cut areas, say, or melting Arctic ice shelves. Now we need to learn to listen to the earth, too.
Last year, Krause brought biophony to the masses by creating an extraordinarily cool add-on for Google Earth. Download it from his WildSanctuary.com site and you can click on dozens of locations worldwide to hear snippets of their soundscape.
I select the Amazon rain forest and my office is suddenly filled with a mesmerizing mix of hoots, cries, and rustling. It's spooky — like nothing I've ever heard before.
And like nothing I'll ever hear again, if we don't watch out. "Earth has a voice," Krause says. "We can't let it go silent."
Email clive@clivethompson.net.

Also on Portfolio
A Feisty Ad Server Catches Google's Eye
Lawyers: Can't Anybody Speak English?
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineEven as it agreed in January to plunk down $1.23 billion to buy a promising but problematic search company in Norway, Microsoft knew that the company had some accounting matters to address.
Now, it appears, the acquired company, Fast Search & Transfer, may have some criminal matters to work out: Suspicions about the Norwegian search-engine company's revenue reporting are now in the hands of the Oslo police.
Norway's financial supervisory authority, Kredittilsynet, said its review of Fast Search's previously disclosed accounting problems not only appeared to have violated accounting standards, they may have broken the law too.
The development is bad news for Microsoft, which snapped up Fast Search as a potential Google-buster. Fast Search, which for a while was also known as the Google of Norway, had search-engine technology that industry experts said was better than Google's and could handle truly massive corporate projects.
Goldman Sachs estimated last year that the company would grow its revenue 27 percent in 2007. Over the years, Fast Search appeared to benefit from big contracts with customers such as AT&T, Comcast, and the Walt Disney Co.
At one point, Intel was interested in buying the Norwegian rising star, but Microsoft grabbed the prize. At the time, Microsoft was still digesting it $6 billion acquisition of the digital-advertising company aQuantive—a deal that came just one month after Google said it would pay $3.1 billion for DoubleClick.
In its haste to grab Fast Search, however, Microsoft looked past the company's problems: They include, but aren't limited to, accounting irregularities that began to appear as Microsoft began to look over its books.
In the second quarter of 2007, Fast Search reported an operating loss of $38 million on revenue of only $35 million—a full $20 million below forecasts. The loss widened in the following quarter, leading the Norwegian stock exchange to delist Fast Search on December 12.
That same day, Fast Search said it would review its accounting for all of 2006 and 2007. The latest unaudited results show revenue growth of 7 percent for last year, which is far below Goldman's forecast.
Still, Microsoft pursued the acquisition, completing the deal on April 28.
Kredittilsynet, the supervisory agency, was equally determined. It referred Fast Search to investigators at Økokrim, the Norwegian National Authority for Investigation and Prosecution of Economic and Environmental Crime.
Økokrim last week concurred that the nature of the irregularities and the amount by which Fast Search apparently inflated its accounts were serious matters warranting prosecution. But the agency said it was too busy to open a criminal investigation.
Rather than let the matter rest, the market supervisor turned it over to the Oslo police for investigation. Aftenposten, a Norwegian newspaper, characterized Kredittilsynet's decision to involve the police as an unprecedented step in that country.
As of now, it's unclear what the Oslo police have in store for Fast Search—or for former company C.E.O. John Markus Lervik, who is now the vice president for enterprise search at Microsoft.
Methane reserves deep in the ocean and in arctic permafrost might trigger runaway global warming. But they've also got the potential to provide huge amounts of power, a possibility that is attracting the interest of energy companies.
Methane hydrate, a strange form of natural gas, has recently become a fascination for energy-hungry nations from the United States to Japan and India. Hydrate is found in oceans across the world, where the gas is trapped in icy structures below the seabed, and also lies beneath the Arctic's permafrost.
A paper published this week in Nature suggests that the release of methane hydrates, also known as clathrates, may have triggered a very rapid period of global warming 635 million years ago -- and may do so again. But those same hydrates are also a tempting target for energy production.
"What we've been asked to do is to make this a viable option for the policy makers in the future, and to figure out what's available to us," says Ray Boswell, a researcher with the U.S. Department of Energy's methane hydrates R&D program. "You don't want to find out that you need it, and then find out that you're 30 years down the science and technology curve."
The Gulf of Mexico is estimated to hold more than 6,500 trillion cubic feet of hydrate in sandstone reservoirs, currently the best candidates for commercial exploitation, according to the U.S. Minerals Management Service. If only 5 percent of that hydrate could be tapped, it would yield more than 300 trillion cubic feet of gas. By comparison, the United States' reserve of conventional natural gas is currently estimated at 211 trillion cubic feet.
Researchers romantically call methane hydrates "the fire in the ice," since the frosty chunks burn if you set a match to them. But it's not just romance that's drawing energy companies to the frozen fuel. While methane hydrates have previously been too expensive to extract on a commercial scale, the increasing price of oil -- now more than $130 per barrel -- means the hydrates might soon become a profitable energy source. Chevron has been involved in the gulf research, and BP is exploring for hydrates in Alaska. Japanese engineers reportedly pumped hydrates from a test well in Canada's Northwest Territories this last winter.
"Everybody knows there's a lot of it," Boswell says. "Now, our goal is to understand the ramifications: Does it have potential as an energy resource, and if so, how would you go about getting it? And how does it fit into climate issues?"
It's that last question that opens up the can of worms. Even as some researchers wonder whether methane hydrate could play an important role in powering the 21st century, others ask whether it has played a critical part in catastrophic climate shifts in the past -- and if it could do so again.
The troubling questions arise from prehistoric climate blips that researchers are still struggling to understand.
The most recent abrupt climate change occurred 55 million years ago during the Eocene greenhouse event, when ice disappeared from the poles and trees grew in Antarctica. From analyzing the fossil record, researchers determined that there were very high levels of methane in the atmosphere at that time.
Some paleoclimate researchers hypothesize that a gradually warming climate brought oceans to a temperature tipping point around 55 million years ago, which caused icy methane hydrate structures to melt and let the gas bubble up to the ocean's surface in a long, enormous burp. Since methane is a more powerful greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide, if it were released into the atmosphere in a huge gush, it may have caused temperatures to spike dramatically.
This theoretical precedent has led to speculation in popular science books that our current bout of man-made global warming could cause another catastrophic methane release. But the dominant scientific paradigm is that methane is more likely to be an issue over the long term.
David Archer is an ocean chemist at the University of Chicago who called methane the "crouching tiger of the carbon cycle" on a respected climate blog.
"It's predicted that with a doubled [carbon dioxide] concentration, the deep ocean could eventually change its temperature by about three degrees," Archer told Wired.com. "Three degrees would eventually get rid of all the methane in the ocean. But at what rate -- that's the question."
After conducting his most recent modeling experiments, Archer says that methane released from the ocean could accelerate global warming over a time frame of thousands of years. But we don't have a serious cause for alarm within our lifetime, he says. Smaller releases of methane hydrate are likely as the Arctic permafrost thaws during this century, "but those are equivalent to a volcano eruption," Archer says. "It's not a doomsday thing."
But the lead author of the new Nature paper, Martin Kennedy of the University of California at Riverside, explicitly called a release of methane hydrate "a doomsday scenario for the climate," and called for far more research into methane's role in the world's climate.
While U.S. scientists are proceeding fairly slowly, investigating both the risks and benefits of methane hydrates, other countries are on a faster track.
Japan, South Korea, China and India are all determined to make methane hydrates a viable energy source. India spent $35 million on a 2006 expedition to explore deposits along its coasts, while South Korea, which currently relies on imported natural gas to fuel most of its power plants, has pledged to start commercial production by 2015.
The world may have found a successor to the gold rush and the oil boom: the methane bubble.
1935: The last concrete is poured at the Hoover Dam site, four months before President Franklin Roosevelt dedicates one of the largest hydroelectric projects in U.S. history.
Hoover Dam was conceived in the early 1920s as a way of reclaiming California's flood-prone Imperial Valley, improving water supply to the seven Colorado River-basin states, and generating electric power for Southern California, which was already growing rapidly.
Because the site chosen -- on the Colorado River about 30 miles southeast of Las Vegas -- was adjacent to Boulder Canyon, the undertaking was christened the Boulder Canyon Dam Project.
It was a formidable project. At the time of its completion, Hoover Dam was the world's largest concrete structure, a distinction it held until 1942 when the Grand Coulee Dam opened. It was also, at the time, the largest public-works program in U.S. history.
Construction began in 1932 with the diversion of the Colorado River around the site and the building of two cofferdams to protect against flooding. The surrounding canyon walls were cleared of loose rock and reinforced, and the first concrete was poured in June 1933.
Owing to the problems of uneven cooling and contraction -- which could cause the dam face to crack under stress -- concrete was poured in five-foot increments rather than continuously, to assure structural integrity. A special system of cold-water pipes sped the cooling of the concrete.
The dam stands 725 feet high, now ranking it second behind California's Oroville Dam. Its 17 turbines generate up to 2,074 megawatts of hydroelectric power. (Capacity was increased incrementally until 1961.) The damming of the Colorado River also created Lake Mead, named for the dam's project manager, Elwood Mead.
The dam was built at considerable human cost: 112 workers died from various causes, including accidents, heat stroke and heart failure. A brief workers' strike in 1931 failed, although working conditions improved in its wake. The Six Companies, which ran the project, began providing water on a regular basis: probably a good idea, because temperatures at the work site routinely reached 120 degrees.
The real controversy came later. Although originally referred to as the Boulder Canyon Dam Project, it became known as Hoover Dam after President Hoover's interior secretary, Ray Wilbur, so named it during a speech at the site. Given Hoover's unpopularity at the time -- his policies were widely blamed for helping start the Great Depression -- it was not a popular choice.
Nevertheless, the name stuck, even appearing on official documents, until Hoover was swept out of the White House by FDR in 1932. Roosevelt's interior secretary, Harold Ickes, no fan of Hoover's, officially changed the name to Boulder Dam. It remained that way until President Truman, under pressure from Congress, restored Hoover's name in 1947.
(Source: PBS)
: Courtesy Richard RossA new book by photographer Richard Ross, Architecture of Authority, examines the way institutional buildings exert power over people. Ross managed to gain impressive access to all kinds of secretive or high-security buildings, from Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq, to the supermax high-security Pelican Bay prison in California. Ross credits his unprecedented access to a combination of persistence and sincere curiosity. "Many of these people want to show you these places once they know that you're interested in their world," he says.
To question the pervasiveness of intimidating, "disgusting" architecture, the images in Ross' book are both striking and inviting. Ross intentionally makes the photos of oppressive structures look seductive. "You can convince people a lot easier by whispering in their ear rather than hitting them over the head," says Ross.
Following is a selection from the book along with Ross's commentary. Ross has an exhibition at the Aperture Gallery in New York which is now open to the public.
Left: Pictured is the prison's lethal injection chamber. "Ninety percent of inmates who enter Angola [Louisiana State Penitentiary], never leave," Ross says. Inmates work on the prison farm and are not allowed to eat the cows they raise because the quality of the meat is too high. Meals at Angola can cost as little as 17 cents per person since so much of the food is grown on site. Twice a year, inmates enjoy a rodeo on the prison grounds with barbecues and bull riding.
: Courtesy Richard RossPelican Bay prison holds some of the most dangerous inmates in California. Inmates are often accompanied by four guards during transport within the facility. The light coming through the ceiling in this photo is likely the only sunlight that inmates see during their sentence. In spite of the immense security, Ross says, prisoners are still able to get messages to the outside world to carry out deals and assassinations.
: Courtesy Richard RossOpened in 1829, the Eastern State Penitentiary is one of the oldest prisons in the United States. When it was built, the word 'penitentiary' signified that prisoners were to be penitent in the eyes of God. Even the design of the walls was meant to resemble those of a church.
"In the Eastern State Penitentiary they had skylights and natural light come in because they equated the idea of light and God as one," Ross says. He draws visual parallels in his book between prisons, churches and law enforcement institutions as places where people are intended to seek some form of redemption.
: Courtesy Richard RossNothing is private in this isolation room, a fact conveyed by the prominent camera in the corner. Ross says the use of rooms like these is at the extreme of an authority continuum that begins in preschool (also featured in his book):
"Situations evolve without anybody noticing," Ross says. "Civil liberties are taken away piecemeal but they're rarely given back. So it starts with kids giving up some of their independence to sit on the circle at Montessori school, and that's socialization, or learning to live within a group, but at some point it gets a lot rougher than that."
: Courtesy Richard RossThere is often a third party present in interrogations, Ross says, who sits behind the interrogator. This adds an ominous element of uncertainty. The prisoner is left to wonder whether this person has the ability to intervene, and if so, whether it would be on his behalf or not:
"It's almost as if they act like an omnipotent presence. The silent voice. It's almost Buddhist. They don't say anything. The person being interrogated could look over at that person and wonder if this person is going to tip the scales. Are they going to intercede at any point? At what point do they intercede? At what point do they stop being a neutral, silent observer? Their role is always confused there. The uncertainty assists in the interrogation process."
: Courtesy Richard RossIn photographing military and law enforcement buildings, Ross never directly requests to photograph the most sensitive areas.
"When I go to a Secret Service interview room, I would never say to them, 'Could I see your interrogation room?' They would bristle and I wouldn't get in," he explains.
In the case of Abu Ghraib prison, the notorious scene of torture and abuse of prisoners, this was particularly important:
"If you look at a continuum of a conversation, an interview, interrogation and torture, where's that line?" Ross asks. "By the time prisoners are in Abu Ghraib, that's an interrogation room. They're not fucking around and they're not standing on ceremony."
: Courtesy Richard RossRoss' father was a New York City police officer at this precinct. "I grew up there," Ross says. Though he died 20 years ago, Ross says his father would be amused that he is able to make a living by photographing these institutions.
: Courtesy Richard RossThough the cells in this prison have been removed, it is a classic example of a panopticon, where prisoners are controlled by the actual or perceived gaze of guards at a central position. One of the most efficient architectures of authority, the simple design allows many people to be controlled by very few.
: Courtesy Richard RossFor Ross, this is the signature photo of the project. Shot in August 2005 in almost 120-degree heat, within a window of five minutes, the photo was almost prohibited by the officers on-site.
: Courtesy Richard RossThe curtain in this photo segregates the women from the men in a small corner of the mosque. Ross says he wanted to give an idea of the way women are weighted or valued in these buildings.
: Courtesy Richard Ross"These mosques are the architecture of our world. They're really gorgeous," Ross says. "In any of the mosques there's never any image of anything figurative. There's no idol worshipping in a mosque."
: Courtesy Richard Ross"I was in there photographing that room. It was empty and then a kid, probably in his early twenties who is Arabic, Iraqi, comes in and says, 'Are you a photographer?' We need someone to help us document the birth of the Iraqi constitution," Ross says.
"I ended up going with them for several days photographing sheiks, the president, Muqtada al-Sadr, al-Maliki, with real flexibility of going from one side of the yellow tape to the other," Ross says.
"They were really cool about that. They were great people. I would be having lunch with the oil minister and he would be saying things like 'Thank you for liberating our people,' and I said, 'Don't thank me, I had nothing to do with it, and I would've voted against it.'"
Aren't fax signatures the weirdest thing? It's trivial to cut and paste -- with real scissors and glue -- anyone's signature onto a document so that it'll look real when faxed. There is so little security in fax signatures that it's mind-boggling that anyone accepts them.
Yet people do, all the time. I've signed book contracts, credit card authorizations, nondisclosure agreements and all sorts of financial documents -- all by fax. I even have a scanned file of my signature on my computer, so I can virtually cut and paste it into documents and fax them directly from my computer without ever having to print them out. What in the world is going on here?
And, more importantly, why are fax signatures still being used after years of experience? Why aren't there many stories of signatures forged through the use of fax machines?
The answer comes from looking at fax signatures not as an isolated security measure, but in the context of the larger system. Fax signatures work because signed faxes exist within a broader communications context.
In a 2003 paper, Economics, Psychology, and Sociology of Security, professor Andrew Odlyzko looks at fax signatures and concludes:
Although fax signatures have become widespread, their usage is restricted. They are not used for final contracts of substantial value, such as home purchases. That means that the insecurity of fax communications is not easy to exploit for large gain. Additional protection against abuse of fax insecurity is provided by the context in which faxes are used. There are records of phone calls that carry the faxes, paper trails inside enterprises and so on. Furthermore, unexpected large financial transfers trigger scrutiny. As a result, successful frauds are not easy to carry out by purely technical means.
He's right. Thinking back, there really aren't ways in which a criminal could use a forged document sent by fax to defraud me. I suppose an unscrupulous consulting client could forge my signature on an non-disclosure agreement and then sue me, but that hardly seems worth the effort. And if my broker received a fax document from me authorizing a money transfer to a Nigerian bank account, he would certainly call me before completing it.
Credit card signatures aren't verified in person, either -- and I can already buy things over the phone with a credit card -- so there are no new risks there, and Visa knows how to monitor transactions for fraud. Lots of companies accept purchase orders via fax, even for large amounts of stuff, but there's a physical audit trail, and the goods are shipped to a physical address -- probably one the seller has shipped to before. Signatures are kind of a business lubricant: mostly, they help move things along smoothly.
Except when they don't.
On October 30, 2004, Tristian Wilson was released from a Memphis jail on the authority of a forged fax message. It wasn't even a particularly good forgery. It wasn't on the standard letterhead of the West Memphis Police Department. The name of the policeman who signed the fax was misspelled. And the time stamp on the top of the fax clearly showed that it was sent from a local McDonald's.
The success of this hack has nothing to do with the fact that it was sent over by fax. It worked because the jail had lousy verification procedures. They didn't notice any discrepancies in the fax. They didn't notice the phone number from which the fax was sent. They didn't call and verify that it was official. The jail was accustomed to getting release orders via fax, and just acted on this one without thinking. Would it have been any different had the forged release form been sent by mail or courier?
Yes, fax signatures always exist in context, but sometimes they are the linchpin within that context. If you can mimic enough of the context, or if those on the receiving end become complacent, you can get away with mischief.
Arguably, this is part of the security process. Signatures themselves are poorly defined. Sometimes a document is valid even if not signed: A person with both hands in a cast can still buy a house. Sometimes a document is invalid even if signed: The signer might be drunk, or have a gun pointed at his head. Or he might be a minor. Sometimes a valid signature isn't enough; in the United States there is an entire infrastructure of "notary publics" who officially witness signed documents. When I started filing my tax returns electronically, I had to sign a document stating that I wouldn't be signing my income tax documents. And banks don't even bother verifying signatures on checks less than $30,000; it's cheaper to deal with fraud after the fact than prevent it.
Over the course of centuries, business and legal systems have slowly sorted out what types of additional controls are required around signatures, and in which circumstances.
Those same systems will be able to sort out fax signatures, too, but it'll be slow. And that's where there will be potential problems. Already fax is a declining technology. In a few years it'll be largely obsolete, replaced by PDFs sent over e-mail and other forms of electronic documentation. In the past, we've had time to figure out how to deal with new technologies. Now, by the time we institutionalize these measures, the technologies are likely to be obsolete.
What that means is people are likely to treat fax signatures -- or whatever replaces them -- exactly the same way as paper signatures. And sometimes that assumption will get them into trouble.
But it won't cause social havoc. Wilson's story is remarkable mostly because it's so exceptional. And even he was rearrested at his home less than a week later. Fax signatures may be new, but fake signatures have always been a possibility. Our legal and business systems need to deal with the underlying problem -- false authentication -- rather than focus on the technology of the moment. Systems need to defend themselves against the possibility of fake signatures, regardless of how they arrive.
---
Bruce Schneier is Chief Security Technology Officer of BT, and author of Beyond Fear: Thinking Sensibly About Security in an Uncertain World.
Breaking up with your wireless provider just got a bit easier -- but as with the termination of any bad relationship, timing is everything.
Following a spate of announcements from Verizon, Sprint and T-Mobile earlier this year, AT&T officially began pro-rating its early termination fees on Sunday. According to the company, instead of paying one single flat fee of $175 to jump ship, you'll now be able to shave off $5 from that amount for every month completed of your one- or two-year contract.
"We have not yet provided specifics on our new approach," an AT&T spokesperson said on Tuesday, "but we remain committed to the idea that wireless customers who leave their contract early should not pay a flat early-termination fee."
Unfortunately, this new policy does not extend to those who signed up for a contract prior to May 25, 2008.
So why the sudden change of heart? According to most wireless analysts, this newfound flexibility on the part of AT&T and the rest of the industry is largely the result of a number of pending class action lawsuits, in several states, by customers who claim they were either misled or charged excessive penalty fees.
"If you take a look at what AT&T did, they basically matched Verizon's current policy," says Current Analysis analyst William Ho. "You can argue that this is carriers being proactive against pending legislative penalties and the coming open access environment, but to me, this is really about staying competitive. With everyone else agreeing to pro-rate their termination fees, AT&T didn't want to be seen as the bad guy."
Verizon, which currently faces a $1 billion suit related to its early termination fee policy, is actually in the midst of proposing two separate remedies to the FCC, Congress and various other consumer groups.
The first is similar to what all major U.S. carriers are already planning on doing: pro-rating their ETFs over the course of a given contract. The alternate option would have carriers agreeing not to charge any termination fee during the first month of a contract; after that, all bets would be off.
Theoretically, these half-measures would give carriers some degree of wiggle room when it comes to any pending and future ETF-related lawsuits.
For years, U.S. carriers didn't seem to mind the "bad guy" label and justified early cancellation fees based on the fact that the majority of customers still purchased subsidized handsets.
Many customers rightly assume the cheap phone they get in the deal is a part of entering into a one- or two-year contract with a given carrier, but subsequently forget that breaking that contract can mean parting with a significant chunk of change.
"In essence, it's the carrot-and-stick approach," says Ho, "where the carrot is the subsidy and the stick is the early termination fee."
Things are starting to change, albeit very slowly. Currently, the ongoing ETF legal battles are being waged at the state level, but the FCC announced last week it will be holding its own hearing in mid-June to decide whether the government should in fact take over jurisdiction of the fees -- the theory being that one national policy applicable to all wireless carriers would eliminate much of the confusion and lawsuits.
In the foreseeable future, you can bet on one thing: If there's a contract or a subsidy involved when you sign up with a new carrier, expect to get whacked with some manner of ETF should you decide to walk away early. The only difference is it might not hurt as much as it used to.
585 B.C.: A solar eclipse in Asia Minor brings an abrupt halt to a battle, as the warring armies lay down their arms and declare a truce. Historical astronomy later sets a likely date, providing a debatable calculation point for pinning down some dates in ancient history.
This was not the first recorded solar eclipse. After failing to predict one such in 2300 B.C., two Chinese astrologers attached to the emperor's court were soon detached from their heads. Clay tablets from Babylon record an eclipse in Ugarit in 1375 B.C. Later records identify total solar eclipses that "turned day into night" in 1063 and 763 B.C.
But the 585 B.C. eclipse was the first we know that was predicted. The Greek historian Herodotus wrote that Thales of Milete predicted an eclipse in a year when the Medians and the Lydians were at war. Using the same calculating methods that predict future eclipses, astronomers have been able to calculate when eclipses occurred in the past. You can run the planetary clock in reverse as well as forward. To coin a word, you can postdict as well as predict.
The most likely candidate for Thales' eclipse took place on May 28, 585 B.C., though some authorities believe it may have been 25 years earlier in 610 B.C. Hundreds of scholars have debated this for nearly two millenniums.
Predicting a solar eclipse is not easy. You need to calculate not only when it will happen, but where it will be visible. In a lunar eclipse, when the moon passes through the Earth's huge sun shadow, the event is visible on the whole side of the Earth that's in nighttime, and totality often lasts more than an hour. But in a solar eclipse, the moon's shadow falls across the Earth in a relatively narrow path, and the maximum duration of totality at any given place is only about 7½ minutes.
So you need to know the moon's orbit in great detail -- within a small fraction of a degree of arc. The early Greeks did not have this data.
We do not know the method Thales used to make his prediction. The method may have been used only once, because we have no other records of the Greeks of this era accurately predicting further eclipses. Thales is believed to have studied the Egyptians' techniques of land measurement (geo metry in Greek) later codified by Euclid. One has to wonder whether Thales made the famous eclipse prediction himself, or if he simply borrowed it from the Egyptians.
However he made the prediction, and however precise or vague it may have been, the eclipse occurred. Aylattes, the king of Lydia, was battling Cyaxares, king of the Medes, probably near the River Halys in what is now central Turkey.
The heavens darkened. Soldiers of both kings put down their weapons. The battle was over. And so was the war.
After 15 years of back-and-forth fighting between the Medes and the Lydians, the kings of Cilicia and Babylon intervened and negotiated a treaty. The River Halys, where the Battle of the Eclipse was fought, became the border between the Lydians and the Medes.
Source: NASA, Crystalinks
I'm looking forward to the upcoming Mortal Kombat vs. DC Universe videogame. I'm not looking forward to playing it, as such. I'm not really into fighting games, mostly because they have these huge lists of moves that I feel I have to memorize in order to get anywhere. The actual game ends up like an extremely fast, violent trivia contest:
"For 45 Hit Points: What is the proper response when your opponent is launching a Double Chainsaw Uppercut Blast?"
Alt Text Podcast
Download audio files and subscribe to the Alt Text podcast.
"Well, Bob, I believe the answer would be GAAAARGH GOODBYE STERNUM I'LL MISS YOU!"
So while I'm probably not going to buy the game, I am looking forward to it existing as an actual product in the real universe, because the whole concept is nose-pokingly ludicrous.
To begin with, there's Superman.
Superman-based interactive entertainment products tend to be very bad, because an accurate Superman game would have one button labeled "Use Powers" and you would press it and win.
With the upcoming Mortal Kombat vs. DC videogame on the horizon, you may be asking everyone around you, "I wonder what other matchups would make for a good fighting game?"
Video produced by Annaliza Savage and edited by Michael LennonHow long is Sub-Zero going to stand up against someone who can picnic on Pluto? Even considering that Subby's powers are magic, and thus can actually affect Superman, then all Supes has to do is fly into the upper atmosphere (Up, Up, High Punch) and fry Zero with his heat vision from 50 miles away (Down, Back, Down, Low Kick, Give Opponent the Finger). From Sub-Zero to Well-Done in eight seconds flat.
Yeah, some of the Mortal Kombat characters are gods and stuff, but the fact remains that they can be torn in half by a movie star, a vulnerability that is not on Superman's bizarre list of weaknesses.
But that's great! I'm tired of reasonable matches. I was exhausted by Enterprise vs. Imperial Star Destroyer arguments 10 years ago, but I'm terribly amused by the idea of an Imperial Star Destroyer against, say, the Kon-Tiki. Especially if you can figure out a scenario in which the raft wins.
So let's make this happen! I desire an endless series of videogames that pit an overpowered team against hapless underdogs! Here are a few to get you started, game-designing people.
DC vs. AC/DC
If a guy named "Reptile" has a chance against any given member of the Justice League, then Australia's crowd-mooningest rockers should have a shot as well. Just as it looks like Angus Young is down for the count, he can use his ultimate final move: YouTube AMV Barrage! Nobody can stand up to dozens of crappy homemade videos for "Highway to Hell"!
Street Fighter vs. Strawberry Shortcake
Old version, new version, banned Penny Arcade version, whatever. I just want to see Plum Puddin' take on M. Bison. I also want them to come out with a series of scented Street Fighter dolls. Zangief smells like jellied veal!
SoulCalibur vs. Animal Crossing
This is a game that I would definitely play, but not against other people, or for that matter against the computer. I would just set Tom Nook up as the second character and have him stand there, then I'd play Astaroth and slice him into Tanuki Patties over and over again. Here's your mortgage payment, Nook! I'll just make the check out to "Pulpy Mass of Laceractions!"
Mortal Kombat vs. Frightened Grocery Store Employees
Who will win the battle? An undead ninja or a middle-age, cowering cashier? Can Raiden possibly stand up to the awesome power of a catatonic bag boy? If you can beat all the main characters, you finally face down the big boss: the lifeless corpse of Barney Kroger!
Everyone vs. the Guy in This Coffee Shop Who's Running His Entire Business by Cellphone in a Very Loud Voice
Seriously guy, shut up.
- - -
Born helpless, nude and unable to provide for himself, Lore Sjöberg eventually overcame these handicaps to become a street fighter, a street sweeper and a streetwalker.
Dear Orson and Zoe,
Fifteen years ago, when your mom and I started Wired, you weren't even born. And now look at you — you guys were playing Go Fish with the original crew at the magazine's 15th anniversary party.
Back in 1993, we had only the slightest glimmer of what the Internet would eventually become. But we had a very clear idea what Wired was supposed to be about: the people, companies, and ideas driving the Digital Revolution. The results of that revolution — Googling your homework, iChatting with your cousins in Paris, buying your Lego NXT off eBay — seem like so much background noise to you now, but back then it was a big deal. In the very first issue, I wrote, "The Digital Revolution is whipping through our lives like a Bengali typhoon."
Got a lot of grief for that typhoon reference — as if it were a pretentious exaggeration instead of the understatement it turned out to be. Should have said the Digital Revolution was ripping through our lives like the meteor that extinguished the dinosaurs. Practically every institution that our society is based on, from the local to the supranational, is being rendered obsolete. This is the world you are inheriting.
Louis Rossetto, the founder and former publisher of Wired, tells how the magazine was formed out of San Francisco's early '90s digital underground.
Video produced by Annaliza Savage and edited by Niall McKay.We at Wired saw it coming, because our mission was to connect our readers to the reality of our times. It's the evolutionary function of media: Those individuals/tribes/societies that are most connected to the larger world, as it really is, are most likely to survive and thrive — and move on to the next level in the big game of life. We were successful as an enterprise not because we used eye-popping fluorescent colors (although that didn't hurt) but because we did the hard work of accurately describing the world as it was changing. Of course, we didn't get everything right.
Here are three things we got wrong, 1993-2008:1. The End of History
Francis Fukuyama proclaimed that history ended with the demise of the Soviet Union. The future would be characterized not by the literal but only the figurative war of ideas. We believed him.
We were wrong. Wired failed to see how a new generation of fanatical geeks would use the Internet in their effort to take over the world. Instead of ending, history looped back on itself, and we are now confronted by a recrudescent and particularly virulent religious ideology straight out of the Middle Ages.
We recognized a world in transition, but we missed the danger in front of us. We eschewed conventional wisdom, but we couldn't escape it. Takeaway: Be contrarian, and then be contrarian again.
2. The Death of Media
We predicted the demise of what we called Old Media (aka mainstream/lamestream/dinosaur media) over and over again, and yet it's still alive. True, we said the Internet would erode Old Media's monopoly on interpreting reality, and we were right about that: If you're surfing Boing Boing, you're not reading the paper edition of The New York Times. The result is imploding Old Media and exploding Google ad revenue.
But we underestimated how slowly Old Media would auger in — and how irresponsible it would become in its death throes. As John Perry Barlow put it on our first TV show, the purpose of media isn't, ultimately, to inform; it's to sell our eyeballs to advertisers. And how better to do that — if your monopoly is being eroded by this newfangled Internet — than to scare the shit out of us? Then we're so paralyzed that we stick around through the commercials.
Faced with fierce competition for those eyeballs, Old Media is hawking the apocalypse: The world is inundated by war, poverty, destruction, fascist Republicans! It's about to be swept away by tidal waves unleashed by melting polar ice caps! More on how this is humanity's own fault — after the break.
Wired Promo From 1993: This publicly aired promotion for Wired in its debut year, 1993, shows a style that was frantic but advanced for its time, swiftly conveying the mission and content of the magazine.
For more, visit video.wired.com.3. The Death of Politics
We envisioned the eclipse of the nation-state. Electronic networks were enabling the friction-free movement of capital and ideas. This would take power out of the hands of politicians and bureaucrats and put it in the hands of super-empowered individuals and networked communities.
Wrong. Governments are still here, presumptuous and bossy as ever. And what's worse, although the zoo door was pried open and the monkeys peered out, we chose not to step into the brave new tomorrow, preferring to go on playing games inside our cage.
So instead of spending a decade rebuilding civil society — reinventing how we resolve conflicts and build consensus — we got MoveOn and Daily Kos and Soros-funded 527s that divert immense energy into the mud of politics, all in the naked pursuit of political power. This has resulted in one of the most toxic and least productive eras of public discourse in our history.
Good thing we got some stuff right:1. We Called the Long Boom
In 1997, we published "The Long Boom." Some pundits snarked that it was dotcom-stock boosterism. Instead, it pinpointed what was behind the unprecedented increase in material well-being for most of humanity: the spread of liberal democracy, globalization, and technological revolutions. The boom began with the introduction of the personal computer, and it will continue until at least 2020, when you two might have kids of your own.
Skeptical? Recent reports say that illiteracy worldwide has fallen by half since 1970 and is now at an all-time low of 18 percent; more people live in free countries than ever before; the number of armed conflicts worldwide has declined by almost half since the early '90s. Indeed, the average human born in 2025 will live to be 73 — 25 years longer than one born in 1955.
There's a lot of noise in the media about how the world is going to hell. Remember, the truth is out there, and it's not necessarily what the politicians, priests, or pundits are telling you.
Wired Promo From 1997: A later promotional video from 1997 features some of the big players, such as co-publisher Jane Metcalfe, cofounder Louis Rossetto, executive editor Kevin Kelly, designers John Plunkett and Barbara Kuhr, deputy editor John Bartelle, and associate publisher Drew Schutte, discussing the challenges and rewards of putting out the magazine.
For more, visit video.wired.com.2. We Foresaw the One Machine
We didn't name it; founding executive editor Kevin Kelly came up with the term only recently. But we certainly predicted a new planetary consciousness based on humans using ever-more-powerful PCs and networks. Take our current hardware/wetware mashup: 1 billion CPUs on the Internet; 8 terabytes of traffic with 2 million emails per second; 3 billion cell phone users; 264 exabytes of magnetic storage. The One Machine now has a million times as many transistors as your brain has neurons. Let's say that gives it processing power equivalent to a single human brain — 1 HB; by 2040, the One Machine should surpass 6 billion HB, exceeding the processing power of humanity. In an era when even progressives are trying to stop time to preserve some notion of planetary perfection, it's clarifying (and humbling) to note that evolution has not ceased — and that we are not evolution's ultimate product.
3. We Knew Tech Would Change How We Relate
We wrote about how every institution — businesses, schools, churches, the courts — was being pounded to obsolescence by the Digital Revolution. So we stressed the need to join together and not just vote but directly rebuild civic society — how we live together as human beings — for the 21st century.
We tried to describe new ways of relating to one another — how we do business, how we invest, how we can defend, educate, cure, shelter, and govern ourselves. We coined the term Netizen to describe this new social actor. We invented the Digital Nation, the Netizens' new homeland. And we championed new heroes, chronicled new successes, and encouraged those struggling to create this new world.
Millennial Moments: In an unusual, Zen-like campaign, Wired tells us, "This is the age where you can finally do it all."
For more, visit video.wired.com.Fair trade, the organic movement, pressure on manufacturers to improve conditions for their workers overseas, blogging, social networks, Surfrider Foundation, One Economy, Amnesty International, One Laptop per Child, networked homeschooling, cracking the human genome, YouTube social media as a means of creating new political consciousness, distributed artistic expression, up to and including the One Machine — these are all reinventions of the institutions we rely on as social animals.
So what's next? You are.If Wired was the Scout for a generation, Kevin Kelly was the scout for Wired. One chewy chunk of fresh kill he brought back early on was a book by William Strauss and Neil Howe called Generations. It concluded its generational history of the United States with the Millennials, members of the next major demographic cohort, the first of whom were born around 1980.
Strauss and Howe's description of Millennials inspired us: "This generation will show more teamlike spirit and more like-mindedness in action than most Americans then alive will recall ever having seen in young people... Millennials will carry out whatever crisis mission they are assigned — as long as they can connect it with their own secular blueprint for progress. If crisis brings war, soldiers will obey orders without complaint. If it involves environmental danger or natural resource depletion, young scientists will make historic breakthroughs. If the crisis is mostly economic, the youthful labor force will be a mighty engine of renewed American prosperity. Whatever their elder-bestowed mission, these rising youths will not disappoint. Assuming the crisis turns out well, Millennials will be forever honored as a generation of civic achievers."
One of the original visionaries of Wired magazine, Kevin Kelly, reflects on where it all started and how it's evolved in 15 years.
Video produced by Annaliza Savage and edited by Niall McKay.What's heartening to me, Orson and Zoe, is that even though you and your peers have grown up watching your parents become self-absorbed, hypocritical, and now plain crotchety and rancorous (not Jane and me, of course), and even if you stand in the rubble of the social institutions toppled by the Digital Revolution, your response is not the me-me-me of your parents' generation but us-us-us. Whether you're addressing climate change or serving in Iraq, you are simultaneously more traditionalist and future-forward, more practical and idealistic, than your parents.
The challenge is obvious, the dangers present, the need great. But be optimistic. I would say that, wouldn't I, since we were often accused during my time at Wired of being overly optimistic. But optimism is not false hope, it's a strategy for living. If you are optimistic about the future, you will step up and take responsibility and attempt to make it better for yourselves and your own children.
Yes, we didn't know it at the time, but we were making Wired for you.
All love, Dad
: The Phoenix Mars Lander, which completed a heart-stopping, autonomous landing on the Martian surface on Sunday, has begun beaming pictures the millions of miles back to Earth.
If you missed the landing, this gallery should provide a photographic catch-up on a mission that is likely to allow scientists to examine extraterrestrial water for the first time ever during this initial exploration of a Martian polar region.
Now that the lander is in position, NASA will use the craft's robotic arm to dig into the red planet's regolith to look for the subsurface ice that scientists believe exists there. If they find it, instruments aboard the craft will melt the ice and analyze the water to look for organic compounds, which contain carbon, the building block of life.
These photos take an amazing path to get to your desktop. First, the Surface Stereoscopic Imager snaps them. Then the Lander sends data at about 15 kilobytes a second via an UHF antenna to two spacecraft orbiting Mars. The orbiters relay the data to NASA's Deep Space Network antenna arrays in Canberra Australia, Madrid, and in California's Mojave Desert.
Raw images are sent to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and posted to the Phoenix Mars Mission website.
Left: The small blue object in the center of the Martian Arctic plain pictured is NASA's Phoenix Mars Lander, as seen from above by NASA's Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter.
The lander touched down safely and scientists have been delighted to find all its instruments in working order. Now, NASA, Jet Propulsion Laboratory and University of Arizona scientists will race to do as much research as possible over the next three months before the Martian winter incapacitates the lander.
: This image shows where the Phoenix Mars Lander touched down in the desolate northern polar region of Mars. The region was targeted as part of NASA's long-stated "follow the water" exploration strategy for Mars. Scientists believe that ice exists underneath the flat surface of this plain. The "polygonal cracking" visible in the picture has also been observed in permafrost terrains like the Siberian tundra, so scientists believe it results from seasonal freezing and thawing of surface ice.
: While the Mars Phoenix Lander does not have a true video camera, NASA scientists can pan around a very high resolution image to create a video like this one of the Martian arctic plain.
: In a space-exploration first, NASA's Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter captured the Phoenix Lander, and its parachute, during its descent to the Martian surface. It marks the first time that a spacecraft has visualized the descent of another craft.
After two previous landers were lost entering the Martian atmosphere, the Phoenix mission has gone smoothly.
: In an image that has circulated around the world, this picture shows one of the Phoenix Mars Lander's "feet" settled on Martian rock and soil. It was essential that the craft land in an area where it could dig into the soil because the lander, unlike the Mars rovers, can't move. It appears that the area within the lander's reach -- a mere 160 square feet -- will provide scientists with their shot at touching Martian ice.
:
The lander touched down at 4:53 pm Pacific Time on May 25 in an arctic region called Vastitas Borealis. Some scientists believe the area was once covered with water in the distant Martian past. Now, it features polygonal patterns that look similar to icy ground in earth's arctic regions.
This image was one of the first color images released by NASA.
: After nine months and 422 million miles of travel, the lander reached the ground near its intended touchdown spot. The Martian landscape around the landing site is barren except for small pebbles and polygonal lumps that are widely associated with permafrost regions on Earth.
: Here we see one of the Phoenix Mars Lander's octagonal solar panels. After it touches down, the two panels unfold on either side of the spacecraft to unveil a total solar-cell area of 45 square feet. The panels are the sole means the craft has of recharging its two 25-amp-hour lithium-ion batteries. Each battery stores about five times as much power as your correspondent's MacBook battery, so the lander has about 10 MacBooks' worth of stored power.
: This image shows a small-scale polygonal pattern in the ground near NASA's Phoenix Mars Lander. It was acquired on what NASA is calling Sol 0, the first Martian day of the mission.
While the rocky, lifeless surface is similar to images delivered by the Mars rovers, scientists believe the warping of the land is due to water ice under the surface. The prospective ice has raised hopes that some liquid water, which is required for life as we know it, exists under the surface.
"There's this idea that there are reservoirs of liquid water down there and as soon as you see liquid water, you say, 'Why couldn't there be microbes?'" Edward Young, the principal investigator of the UCLA IGPP Center for Astrobiology, told Wired.com. (Young is not involved with the Phoenix mission.)
: Mars is roughly half the size of Earth, yet the Phoenix Mars Lander will only end up excavating a tiny living room-sized slice of the planet. Still, the lander is loaded with a variety of instruments, including a gas analyzer and a weather station, that scientists hope will turn this barren landscape into a rich scientific tapestry that adds whole new chapters to what we know about Mars, the rest of the solar system and the possibility for life on other planets.
: After a decade of tough luck for Martian missions, Phoenix team members celebrate the craft's landing on Mars, May 25, 2008. Wired.com brought you live coverage of the team's giddy press conference.
This image is a screen capture taken from NASA TV just after radio signals were received from the lander.
: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of ArizonaNow, with the initial excitement of the landing over, the Phoenix team is settling in to do the heavy scientific lifting that got the mission $420 million in funding. Digging for ice could begin as early as next week, and that investigation could provide a host of surprises about the history of the water and life on Mars.
Like previous missions, the Phoenix Mars Lander has a message for future Martian explorers in the form of the mini-DVD that you see next to the American flag. It was created by the Planetary Society and contains video of Earth's visionaries like Carl Sagan and Arthur C. Clarke talking about the future. For the earthbound present, NASA has embraced Twitter to send out status messages on the mission. The Mars Phoenix Twitter stream has amassed almost 8,000 followers.
Call it the Tom Sawyer approach to selling CPUs.
VIA Technologies, the self-proclaimed No. 3 maker of Intel-compatible processors, has unveiled a new "reference design" for ultra-portable computers based on the company's own low-power chips.
Making a reference design is common fare in the high-tech industry. Chipmakers like Intel have been doing it for years as a way of proving the technical viability of a product concept. What sets VIA's approach apart is that the company is posting the computer-aided design (CAD) files for its OpenBook PC under a Creative Commons license. Anyone with design skills and a burning desire to get into the PC business can download the files, modify the design and go into business selling ultra portables.
Taiwan-based VIA will even help aspiring Michael Dells find Asian manufacturers to do the hard work of turning those CAD files into real, plastic-and-silicon products.
VIA's design is on the commercial end of a growing spectrum of "open source" hardware. On the other, more noncommercial end are hackable hardware kits like the Arduino platform, which was used by many exhibitors at the recent Maker Faire in San Mateo, California. Open source aficionados were also buzzing last week about the release of the OGD1, a development kit that could be used to create open-source graphics cards.
If VIA's idea takes off, it could help add more juice to the already-humming market for ultra portables. That market, which had long foundered on the impractical aspirations of a tiny minority of mobility-obsessed hardware geeks, took off in earnest last year with the success of the Eee PC, Asus' $400, Linux-based ultra portable.
For industrial designer Scott Summit, VIA's move is part of a gradual shift toward more highly-customized manufacturing, in which small companies and even individuals are able to design and build their own products, thanks to the decreasing costs of fabrication.
"The idea of open source manufacture is taking shape, and we're going to see more of it because the barriers (to highly customized production) are really starting to evaporate," says Summit.
VIA's design calls for a 2.2-pound PC with an 8.9-inch screen, a webcam, up to 2GB of RAM, an 80GB or larger hard drive, and built-in Wi-Fi and Bluetooth (or, optionally, WiMax or 3G cellular data). It's not wanting for ports, either, with an Ethernet jack, three USB ports and an SD card slot.
The design is aimed at smaller design-manufacturers and upstart PC companies rather than big PC manufacturers like HP or Dell, who create their own designs (like HP's new MiniNote) from scratch.
"When we look at reference designs, they're helpful, they're insightful, they give us an optimal layout from an engineering perspective -- but they don't target what we're aiming for," says Stacy Wolff, a notebook design director for HP.
VIA's hope is that its design will encourage new designers to make ultra portables that are a little less ugly than the usual fare. It's a bet that the PC market will soon follow in the footsteps of the cellphone market, where what's under the hood is less important than how it looks.
"It's not really about the components inside at all," says VIA vice president Richard Brown. "It's personal jewelry."
Almost makes the idea of starting your own computer brand sound a little sexy, doesn't it? And for the chipmaker, it's not far from the notion that if you want to get a fence painted, start painting it yourself and try to make it look fun.
: The bridge is among our most ancient technologies. The moment some distant ancestor thought to place a log where he (or she) wanted to cross the stream, and not where the logs happen to have fallen, the bridge was born.
A bridge inspires us. A bridge overcomes an obstacle and connects someplace to someplace else, with strength and often with grace and beauty. A bridge lets us go to the other side.
The spiritual connection is old. The high priest of ancient Rome carried the title of Chief Bridgemaker, or Pontifex Maximus. The head of the Roman Catholic Church still carries that Latin title, pontiff or pope in English.
The bridge can give reassurance to lovers holding hands, hope to the thwarted and consolation to the broken-hearted. The bridge connects, physically. It unites the divided. It makes one of what had been two.
The world has millions of bridges. To say Happy Birthday to the Golden Gate Bridge, we share with you a dozen of our other favorites.
Left:
Really Old: Ponte Vecchio It's in the nature of bridges that they draw traffic, and it's in the nature of real estate (especially commercial real estate) that value is based on location, location, location. "You want to cross the river, you're going to have to see my goods." Thus, people built shops (with homes above) on many medieval bridges. The old London Bridge of nursery-song fame is one such and Venice's Rialto another.
The Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge) across the River Arno in Florence, Italy, dates back to Roman times, but the current bridge (so to speak) dates back to 1345 (by Taddeo Gaddi), with the long upper gallery added by the great Renaissance architect Giorgio Vasari in 1564. It is probably the oldest segmental-arch (that is, the arches are not the full semicircles of Roman design) bridge in Europe. It is certainly among the most romantic.
Photo: DuccioBartolozzi/Flickr
: Be not deceived by its Gothic design. This iconic London landmark was designed in 1884 and built from 1886 to 1894. Architects Horace Jones and John Wolfe Barry solved the problem of access for ship traffic on the Thames with two gigantic hydraulic bascules, or drawbridge spans. The side spans are suspension design. The high-level walkways were designed to allow pedestrians to cross even when the bascules were up.
There's a story that the buyer of the old London Bridge thought he was buying this one to move to Arizona, but it's apparently just a story. Both buyer and seller have denied it.
Photo: Christopher Chan/Flickr
: The asymmetrical main pylon of Erasmus Bridge inspires Rotterdam residents to call it the Swan. Like other cable-stayed bridges, the 1996 structure also evokes a harp or lyre. Architect Ben van Berkel's design crosses the River Maas. Sidewalks, bicycle lanes, streetcar rails and vehicle lanes connect the old city with new development to the south. It's 456 feet high and 2,631 feet long, including a 292-foot bascule that allows large ships to pass beneath.
Photo: Blond Avenger/Flickr
: The Gateshead Millennium pedestrian and bicycle bridge crosses the River Tyne between Newcastle and Gateshead in northern England. It's both a cable-stayed bridge and a drawbridge. Completed in 2000, the unique design by Wilkinson Eyre Architects (with Gifford & Partners engineering) rotates on its longitudinal axis (counterclockwise in this view). The arched upper span tilts downward (about 45 degrees) as the curved pathway tilts up, so that both are high enough above the water to allow boats to pass beneath. Locals compare it to a winking eye. It stands just downstream from a series of historic low- and high-level road and rail bridges.
Photo: Pickersgill Reef/Flickr
: When I first saw pictures of the Forth Bridge, I thought it ungainly, even ugly. After learning its history and seeing it in person, I realized I was wrong. The 1890 rail bridge across the Firth of Forth near Edinburgh is strikingly beautiful, its muscular cantilever structure robustly suited to its task and its time.
Designed by John Fowler and Benjamin Baker, its three 330-foot towers carry two clear spans of 1,710 feet each. The main structure is 5,350 feet long, not counting the approaches, and the bridge still carries up to 200 trains a day, connecting Edinburgh to the north of Scotland.
Photo: Simon Bradshaw/Flickr
: What fun! It may look like an amusement-park ride, but the Magdeburg Water Bridge carries a canal on a 748-foot span across the River Elbe in eastern Germany. Originally conceived in 1919, it finally opened in 2003. It connects the Elbe-Havel Canal to the important Mittelland Canal, linking Berlin to the Rhine-Ruhr industrial heartland. The main span directly above the river is 348 feet long.
Photo: Chris Lori/Flickr
: The Millau Viaduct carries the A75 motorway across the valley of the river Tarn in southern France, allowing a major north-south route to bypass a tangle of mountain roads. Designed by Norman Foster and completed in 2004, it's the world's longest cable-stayed bridge, at 8,660 feet, and the world's tallest, at 1,125 feet. It's taller in fact than the Eiffel Tower, which remarkably was built by the same firm.
Photo: chericbaker/Flickr
: Kintaikyo (Kintai bridge) near Iwakuni City was first built in 1673. It washed away in a flood the next year. Its replacement lasted until a typhoon destroyed it in 1950. The new bridge was built in 1953. The five graceful arches each span 131 feet for a total length of 656 feet across the Nishiki River. Because of its beauty, the bridge got its name from kintai, or gold brocade sash.
Photo: kamoda/Flickr
: The Akashi Kaikyo Bridge, the world's longest and tallest suspension bridge, links the city of Kobe with Awaji-shima Island, as part of the highway connecting the Japanese islands of Honshu and Shikoku. Completed in 1998, it stretches 12,828 feet across the stormy Akashi Strait. The center span is 6,527 feet, more than half again as long as the Golden Gate Bridge. The towers are 928 feet high.
Photo: kamoda/Flickr
: The Oresund Bridge carries rail and road traffic between Copenhagen, Denmark, and Malmö, Sweden. The bridge-tunnel combo is the longest border-crossing structure in the world. Completed in 2000, the 10-mile length includes an artificial peninsula at the Danish end, a 2.2-mile tunnel, a 2.5-mile artificial island and a 4.9-mile cable-stayed bridge. The toll for a passenger car is about $50.
Photo: Lauri Väin/Flickr
: That's Asia on the right and Europe on the left -- with Istanbul's Ortaköy Mosque. The suspension bridge links the ancient city with its Asian suburbs. Completed in 1974, the Bosporus Bridge is just short of a mile long end-to-end, with a center span of 3,524 feet. Venus Williams played an exhibition tennis game on the bridge deck in 2005, with the volleys crossing from one continent to the other.
Photo: pictalogue/Flickr
: Australia's Sydney Harbor Bridge doesn't link continents, but symbolizes one. Its 1,650-foot steel-arch span used to be the world's largest, but Chinese bridges now surpass it. Completed in 1932, the Sydney Harbor Bridge connects Australia's biggest city with its northern suburbs, carrying rail, vehicle and pedestrian traffic. It used to get called the Coathanger a lot, but that name seems to be fading. Perhaps, like the Parisians with their at-first-reviled Eiffel Tower, the Aussies are getting used to it at last.
Photo: semuthutan/Flickr
: John A. Roebling's masterpiece, the Brooklyn Bridge, killed him in a construction accident in 1869, soon after work began. The composite of suspension and cable-stayed design (hence its trademark criss-cross cables) enabled a bridge 50 percent longer than any other suspension bridge when it was completed in 1883. It pioneered bridge-construction technology both with pneumatic caissons below the water and steel cables in the air.
The bridge celebrated its 125th birthday last Saturday, but from its beginning has inspired artists and writers. Edward Steichen and Walker Evans photographed it. Georgia O'Keefe painted it. Hart Crane praised it: "O harp and altar." Jack Kerouac had his "Brooklyn Bridge Blues" there.
Poet Marianne Moore sang of it:
way out; way in; romantic passageway
first seen by the eye of the mind,
then by the eye. O steel! O stone!
Climactic ornament, a double rainbow
The Brooklyn Bridge inspired politicians, too. So firmly did the bridge link the separate cities of New York and Brooklyn, they merged in 1898 to form Greater New York.
The bridge is what we see in it. It is what we wish it to be. And it's also still a workaday way to get from the Lower East Side to Brooklyn Heights.
Photo: ehpien/Flickr
1937: After nearly four-and-a-half years of construction, the Golden Gate Bridge opens to pedestrians. Approximately 18,000 people are waiting to walk across the span when it officially opens at 6 a.m.
The bridge opened to automobile traffic the following day, when President Franklin Roosevelt -- at the White House 3,000 miles away -- pressed a telegraph key that simultaneously announced the fact to the world.
That was the easy part.
The idea to span the Golden Gate, the mile-wide strait connecting the San Francisco Bay with the Pacific Ocean, was originally proposed by a madman. Joshua Norton -- a San Francisco merchant who went bankrupt and lost his marbles, declaring himself Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico -- decreed the building of the bridge in 1869.
A few years after Norton's decree, railroad magnate Charles Crocker, a lot less endearing but a lot more influential than the good emperor, presented the first concrete plan, with cost estimates, for spanning the Golden Gate. Despite his clout, Crocker got about as far with his plans as his dotty predecessor did.
It wasn't until 1916, when a proposed design for a bridge published by the San Francisco Call caught the eye of the city's chief engineer, Michael O'Shaughnessy, that serious planning began. The original cost estimate came in at a staggering $100 million (nearly $2 billion in today's money). That might have deep-sixed things again if not for the appearance of Joseph B. Strauss, a structural engineer with 400 bridges under his belt, who said he could complete the project for around $30 million.
Things simmered on the back burner while United States ran off to the World War, but in 1921 Strauss came back again with a formal $27 million bid and won the contract. The 1920s were spent lining up political ducks, fiddling with design proposals and dealing with the War Department, which had final say on the construction of anything that might affect ship traffic or military logistics.
By late 1929, the Golden Gate Bridge District was formed, and Strauss' original prosaic cantilever-suspension hybrid design had been replaced by an all-suspension bridge. Irving Morrow, a local architect, is the man responsible for the Golden Gate Bridge's graceful art deco design, as well as choosing its distinctive color: international orange (which contrasts with the surrounding sea, sky and land regardless of weather or season). The structural calculations provided by consulting engineers Charles Ellis and Leon Moisseiff persuaded Strauss to abandon his own design in favor of Morrow's, for which the world can give eternal thanks.
With things nearly set to go, along came the Great Depression. That, along with additional soil testing and political infighting that eventually cost Ellis his job, delayed the start of construction until January 1933. It was a testament to the Bay Area's faith in the project that, only a year into the Depression, voters overwhelmingly approved a $35 million (about $450 million today) bond to finance the project.
(Emperor Norton, beloved and coddled by his fellow citizens, had also ordered a bridge to be built connecting San Francisco with the East Bay. And eventually the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge was built -- at the same time as the Golden Gate Bridge.)
The Golden Gate Bridge was an engineering marvel. The site alone -- buffeted by high winds and split by the swirling currents of the Golden Gate -- made construction treacherous. The sheer size of the bridge (the longest suspension bridge in the world until the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge opened in 1964) required several innovations in bridge-building technology, especially where it came to constructing the two colossal anchorages in -- and under -- turbulent water.
Of all the mind-boggling statistics surrounding the bridge's construction, and there are plenty, perhaps the most jaw-dropping involves the two main suspension cables. Each measures 7,659 feet in length and each used hundreds of pencil-thick wires bound together to make a cable just over three feet in diameter. In all, more than 80,000 miles of steel wire was needed, enough to circle the earth three times.
Since a fall from the roadbed practically guaranteed death (a fact that more than a thousand suicide jumpers have confirmed), an enormous safety net was slung under the main span at a cost of $180,000. It was money well spent: At least 19 lives were saved as a result of the net.
In fact, it looked as though the bridge would be finished without the cost of a single life until tragedy struck only several months from the end. In October 1936, Kermit Moore, an ironworker, was crushed to death by a falling beam. Then, the following February, 11 men plunged to their deaths when the platform they were working on fell off the bridge and tore through the safety net.
Yet the work continued, and the bridge was finished ahead of schedule and under budget. On the first day it was opened to automobile traffic, an estimated 32,300 cars crossed the span between noon and midnight. That number is slightly higher today.
Source: PBS, City of San Francisco
NAIROBI, Kenya -- For veteran wildlife ranger Joseph Kimojino, the traditional tools of his trade -- binoculars, off-road jeep and a rifle -- have been supplemented by Twitter, Flickr and a blog.
A ranger in Kenya's acclaimed Mara Triangle wildlife park, Kimojino is a member of the Masai tribe. He first learned how to click a computer mouse in November. Now he blogs about the Mara Triangle and posts wild animal photos on Flickr nearly every day.
Kimojino's online outreach is an effort to raise awareness and money for the park, and it's urgent: Without the funds he raises online, his employer, the Mara Conservancy, would go broke. Admission fees from park visitors are the conservancy's primary source of revenue, but tourism dropped to almost zero during Kenya's post-election violence, and hasn't snapped back.
But the park's online efforts are working. Despite relatively modest traffic, the blog raised $40,000 from donations in March. Kimojino's Facebook page drew about $2,000; and a handful of safari companies bought advertising on the blog in exchange for sponsoring rangers.
"All the rest has been from single donations from individuals around the world, from donations as small as $5 to our biggest, which was $5,000," says William Deed, the experienced blogger behind the park's online outreach effort.
Kenya's wildlife is seriously threatened by poaching, except in parks like the Mara Triangle, which employs rangers to protect animals. The rangers' salaries are paid from park fees, but tourism has dropped 90 percent. To keep the conservancy running, the park's online outreach needs to raise $50,000 a month until the tourists return -- a job that's fallen into Deed's lap.
Two years ago, Deed, 28, was an office temp in Rotherham, England, "a really shitty, shitty town near Sheffield," he says. Deed was so bored with his lot, he started a blog about the banalities of waiting in line.
The blog became popular, and within months, Deed was recruited by the conservationist blog network WildlifeDirect, brainchild of famed Kenyan conservationist Richard Leakey and his son-in-law, Emmanuel De Merode.
Deed's assignment: Help wildlife rangers set up blogs about mountain gorillas and other animals in the Congolese guerrilla stronghold of North Kivu.
Eastern Congo was much less boring than Rotherham, Deed found. After surviving more than a dozen evacuations and being ultimately driven out of the park by Laurent Nkunda's rebels, Deed found a more peaceful but no less adventurous assignment with the Mara Conservancy.
Now Deed is the producer of the conservancy's expanding online presence, always looking for compelling storylines about animals and rangers, and coaching Kimojino on the possibilities of online communication tools. Deed likes to text in news from ranger patrols to Twitter, like this message from April 9: "Three poachers have been caught, found with dried meat from a hippo."
The duo's blog, Flickr page and tweets from the savannah make for an unfolding plot, like a reality television show -- with ads asking for donations. It's the kind of material that earnest animal lovers eat up.
It's more dangerous work than most bloggers are used to. In late April, Kimojino's blog reported on an hourlong gun battle between cattle rustlers and park rangers. One ranger was shot twice during the raid and had to be airlifted to a hospital in Nairobi, where his life was saved by an infusion of four pints of blood.
Most of Kimojino's work is a little less violent. A gentle man devoted to the animals of the park he works for, Kimojino takes a drive every morning at 6:30 to check on the predator population that has been attracting tourists and documentary filmmakers to the Triangle for more than two decades. Kimojino notes the weight and behavior of lions and cheetahs that his sharp eyes spot in the vast fields of tall grass, and takes photographs.
On a game drive one morning, the ranger stops his car in front of a herd of antelopes and whips out a camera. "I have never had a Coke's Hartebeest on Flickr," he says, taking a picture.
The publicity project started in February when the conservancy's purse emptied of emergency buffer funds. The first month, Deed says the blog had only five to 10 hits a day, but through frenetic online promotion and press, Deed says the audience has grown to 450 unique visits per day.
Kimojino's Flickr page has more than 520 contacts from the world over. Before he finishes tagging and naming his pictures one Sunday in April, there are already adoring comments from a woman in the United States about his pictures of cheetah cubs. Flickr's analytics report that he had 1,688 views the previous week.
Getting online has not been without its risks for Kimojino. He explains that for him to be speaking about the park to the public, instead of his boss, breaks traditional Kenyan decorum and was at first difficult for him. But he got used to being the public face of the Mara Triangle.
Deed mentions that after a few months of this online activity, Kimojino went to the optometrist -- he was worried the computer would damage his eyesight, hindering him from spotting, for example, a leopard in a tree two kilometers away, as he did during my visit. (I couldn't even see the spots with an 84mm zoom lens.)
Will Kimojino keep blogging after the tourists return? "If I stop as soon as we have enough money, people will say -- these guys, they were just doing it for the money," he says. "I must continue."

Also on Portfolio
For What We've Paid for the Iraq War the U.S. Could've Bought...
Born to Run Out: Why Americans Are Driving Less
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineIf you ran the airline with the nation's worst on-time record and one of the worst lost-luggage rates, would you begin charging your customers for the privilege of checking a bag?
You probably wouldn’t, but it's Gerard Arpey who runs American Airlines, the nation's largest airline. So beginning next month, American and American Eagle, its wholly owned commuter carrier, will charge most passengers $15 to check a piece of luggage.
As that comic says, you can't fix stupid. And this fee is going into the Airline Stupid Hall of Fame. Not only will it infuriate flyers—who are already annoyed with American’s lousy operating efficiency and its recent maintenance snafus—it's likely to further erode American's on-time and baggage-handling rates. And it probably won’t generate any additional cash for American.
It goes without saying that American needs the scratch. Its $328 million first-quarter loss was, uh, fueled by what the company says was a $665 million year-over-year increase in energy costs. As the price of oil skyrockets, Arpey is so desperate that he's cutting American’s route network by more than 10 percent, grounding dozens of aging, fuel-guzzling aircraft, and laying off thousands of workers.
To Arpey, baggage must seem like an easy target for quick cash. Many European airlines charge for checked luggage and, in the increasingly à la carte world of U.S. aviation, baggage is the next logical candidate for unbundling. And American did have a moment of clarity: When Arpey announced the $15 first-bag fee at last week's annual meeting of AMR, American's parent company, he was careful to exempt full-fare customers (its most profitable segment), elite frequent fliers (its most loyal) and international passengers (who get a mulligan due to competitive and logistical factors). Arpey aimed the $15 fee directly at the travelers who pay the lowest fares and contribute the least to American’s bottom line.
But that’s where rational thinking ended. Arpey set the fee to kick in on tickets purchased beginning June 15, the start of the busy summer-travel season. That means travelers will have to adjust with just three weeks' notice. American's frontline staffers have no more of a cushion, since they were only informed of the move a few hours before Arpey publicly unveiled it.
And American seems to have imposed the fee without actually calculating how much revenue it could raise. When asked, Arpey couldn't say how many checked bags will fall into the charge-to-check category and was vague about the revenue target.
Worse, the customers targeted with the fee are the ones most likely to try to duck the $15 addition by using larger carry-ons. That's dangerous because these less-experienced fliers (think families and once-a-year vacationers) think any bag with wheels qualifies as a carry-on. It doesn’t. American's website says the largest acceptable carry-on bag is no larger than 45 linear inches (length plus width plus height) and weighs no more than 40 pounds.
So be prepared for time-consuming arguments at the ticket counters and check-in kiosks. Unless it’s prepared to countenance ticket-counter madness, American will have to deploy additional staff to do the baggage triage. There goes some of that extra revenue Arpey was counting on.
Then there's the stress that more carry-on bags will cause at security checkpoints. Fliers who would have normally checked their lotions-and-potions and other troublesome checkpoint items will now have them in their carry-ons. That'll mean more time spent preparing for the screening process and clearing security.
Once these slowed-down, baggage-laden fliers reach their departure gate, they'll run into dozens of other travelers who've also maxed out their carry-on allowance. With airlines running 80 percent full, that means a free-for-all for available carry-on space. American's overworked flight attendants will have to police the planes, often going row by row to ensure that travelers have loaded bins effectively and used their under-seat space. That's sure to delay flights—American ran an industry-trailing 62 percent on time in March—and delayed flights cost money. There goes more of Arpey's $15-a-bag revenue stream.
But, wait, it gets worse. No matter how efficiently passengers and flight attendants arrange luggage, some passengers probably won’t have room to stow their gear. That means American’s gate agents will be required to gate-check the extras. That’s a time-consuming process. An agent must get a luggage tag, affix it to the bag, then hand it off to a baggage handler on the ramp, who must then stow it in the belly of the aircraft. More time lost.
How much time? No one really knows, but an international airline executive tells me that his flights have run an average of 15 minutes later since the carrier adopted a pay-for-bags system two years ago. "I don’t know how much is due to extra carry-on bags, but it’s a factor. It’s eating into the ancillary revenue we get from the baggage charges."
Now the big fly in Arpey's revenue ointment: The high cost of delayed and lost baggage created by too much carry-on luggage. Delayed flights mean missed connections and missed connections mean more of what the industry euphemistically calls mishandled bags. (American already mishandles 7.32 bags per 1,000 passengers; American Eagle's rate is 13.08 per 1,000.)
My sources tell me it costs an airline about $60 in labor costs and trucking fees to return a late bag to a customer. That means each additional delayed bag American creates will wipe out the revenue of four checked bags. And woe to American if it loses more bags. Airlines are on the hook for as much as $3,000 in liability for lost luggage. Carriers rarely pay fliers that much, of course, but let’s say a lost bag eventually costs American $2,250 in cash payouts and administrative costs. At that rate, each additional bag that American loses will wipe out the revenue from 150 checked bags.
Like I said, you can’t fix stupid. You can only wait for Arpey to realize that charging $15 for a checked bag isn't enough. Then he'll raise to it $25, leading even more customers to try to fly only with carry-on bags, thus starting the cycle all over again.
The fine print: None of American's direct competitors—United, Delta, Northwest, Continental or US Airways—have yet matched the $15 checked-bag fee. But history indicates that they will. On the other hand, Southwest Airlines, the industry's only profitable major carrier, has announced that it will continue to allow travelers to check two bags for free.
: CNN introduced Wired magazine in January 1993 by saying it was "a combination of high technology with rock 'n' roll delivery." Rossetto & Co.'s initial advertising campaign -– wild postering and bus signs in five cities -– had the tagline: "Finally, a Magazine for the Digital Age." Here, Wired's cofounder Louis Rossetto talks with CNN in December 1992, just before the launch.
Photos courtesy of Louis Rossetto
: Creative director John Plunkett (left) and his design partner/wife (and soon to be HotWired creative director) Barbara Kuhr (center) examine proofs of the magazine on the press check for the first issue in Danbury, Connecticut, in late December 1992. The duo already had an established graphic design firm, Plunkett+Kuhr, when they joined Wired to create its look and feel. (Their firm remains in business today and recently designed the TED 2008 program.)
: Executive editor Kevin Kelly collates Wired's heuristics from assembled senior staff during Wired's first retreat soon after the 1993 launch. On the list were a number of business and editorial standards, some of which were revolutionary for the magazine publishing industry back then and remain so even today: "a place people want to work," "entrepreneurial spirit," "should look like a large home office," "no editorial calendar, not marketing driven," "lead, not follow," "stay lean and mean," and "legendary contributor relations."
: A man falling into a seemingly never-ending city appeared on the cover of Wired's third prototype. The collage is by artist Stuart Cudlitz.
: The January/February 1980 issue of Language Technology, Rossetto and Metcalfe's first magazine venture, was published in Amsterdam with a small global circulation. Rossetto edited, and Metcalfe directed ad sales. The art director was Max Kisman, who would later join Wired TV and design many of its stunning visuals. Language Technology was about the people and companies creating and using technology to handle word-based information, from word processing to machine translation of natural languages. Kevin Kelly saw in this magazine what eventually happened with Wired: "It wanted to be bigger."
: The cover of "The Wired Manifesto"—the first prototype of the magazine—featured one of its earliest and most prominent contributing writers, John Perry Barlow. The prototype was put together in a four-day charette in April 1992 by Rossetto, Metcalfe, Plunkett, and Kuhr in photographer Neil Selkirk's New York studio in Chelsea. Wired was one of the first publications to put writers on the covers, beginning with Bruce Sterling on the very first issue.
: The magazine's first offices were located in the South Park area of San Francisco's SOMA (South of Market) neighborhood. The figure at the desk in the foreground is then-managing editor John Battelle, who later founded The Industry Standard, and more recently Federated Media. Kevin Kelly is silhouetted behind him by the window. And creative director John Plunkett is over to the left. The current Wired office sits not too far away along Third Street in SOMA—an industrial and tech-heavy neighborhood.
: HotWired, which launched in late October 1994, was the first Web site with original content and Fortune 500 advertising. Rossetto's answer to the Web magazine, HotWired was editorially independent of the print publication and generated all its own content. It was also visually conceived by Barbara Kuhr and John Plunkett. The icons are by Max Kisman.
: The lofty, technicolored HotWired office in 2005 was located one floor up from its current location at 520 Third Street in San Francisco. There are 125 people in this picture — average age 24. Suck, the first blog, was born here, too.
: The stock certificate, from when Wired Ventures attempted to go public in 1996 contained (in very tiny type) the quote from Alfred North Whitehead: "It is the business of the future to be dangerous." The Goldman Sachs-led IPO failed, but the innovative and complex design was a clear success. The certificate was designed by Erik Adigard and art directed by John Plunkett.
Butane
Oven schmutz is usually encased in a nearly impenetrable charred-carbon crust, which is best breached by an organic solvent. Enter butane. Also an aerosol propellant, liquid butane loosens carbon molecules that conglomerate when other elements evaporate at high temps. One of the most commonly abused inhalants, butane poses severe health risks. But that's not a worry here: Huffing fumes from the other ingredients would almost certainly kill you first.
Monoethanolamine
Exhibiting properties of both an alcohol (mixes with water, has a high boiling point) and an amine (has a high pH, absorbs water, smells like ammonia), MEA can undergo reactions common to either group of compounds. It breaks down the gunk on oven surfaces, neutralizing some fatty acids and turning others into grease-cutting solvents. Another reason to not inhale this cleaner: MEA is a volatile organic compound, which can cause confusion, nosebleeds, and cancer in humans and animals alike.
Diethylene Glycol Monobutyl Ether
A major component of brake fluid, hair coloring, and floor sealer, DEGBE's job here is to delay evaporation of monoethanolamine, letting it work longer to vanquish baked-on mess. But like any good wingman, DEGBE has skills of its own: It helps dissolve some of the fats and grease loosened by MEA. Breathing DEGBE vapors while consuming excessive alcohol can lead to kidney and liver problems. So remember, friends don't let friends drink and clean.
Sodium Hydroxide
You know that scene in Fight Club where Brad Pitt explains what happens when you mix lye with melted animal grease? That's exactly what happens when you spray this stuff into your oven. Butane and MEA soften the hard organic coating, allowing the sodium hydroxide to attack the underlying fatty triglyceride molecules. That reaction gives off heat and results in a simple form of soap. Incidentally, don't use Easy-Off on aluminum — the metal serves as a room-temperature catalyst, breaking down the NaOH and releasing flammable hydrogen gas.
Diethanolamine
Manufacturer Reckitt Benckiser will neither confirm nor deny this, but the patent information for at least one version of Easy-Off indicates that diethanolamine can be used in place of up to 60 percent of the monoethanolamine. This makes sense because Easy-Off is foamy when it comes out of the can, and DEA is much more foamalicious than MEA. And this isn't just to create the impression of a sudsy, effective cleaner; the foam smothers the other ingredients and prevents them from evaporating, forcing them to slave away at making soap and dissolving grease. The problem is that while DEA is technically not a volatile organic compound, it has been shown to limit brain development in the fetuses of pregnant laboratory mice. Just don't use Easy-Off to clean your kid's Habitrail.
Andy stone meets me in front of a small building in Manchester, Vermont, a Green Mountain hamlet known for factory outlets and maple syrup. He's wearing busted Carhartts, a flannel shirt, and a thick backwoods beard. As he guides me to the industrial freezer around back, Stone is so excited that I'm starting to fantasize about what's inside (gallons of Ben & Jerry's?). The door opens, and I see a shelf stacked with what appears to be rolls of black paper towels.
"I know it doesn't look like much," he says, "but that stuff is worth several hundred thousand dollars." The "stuff" is unidirectional carbon fiber — not the ubiquitous carbon mesh found everywhere from dashboards to tennis racquets, but a new superlight variety that was, until recently, a highly classified concoction. I start to copy information from a label when Stone barks, "Don't write down the manufacturer's name," and slams the door shut.
It's not just trade secrets he's protecting — it's national security. The composite is used in Predator drones and spy satellites for the US military. Stone, along with colleagues at the outdoors supplier Orvis, use it to build a fly-fishing rod. Called Helios, its story began nearly three years ago when Stone, Jim Lepage, and another man — so entrenched in top-secret contracts that nobody would even tell me his name (we'll call him Deep Trout) — set out to build the ultimate rod: lighter than anything ever made but strong enough to land the big one.
Through his network of black-ops eggheads, Deep Trout learned about a new type of composite the military was using. Traditional sheets of carbon fiber are woven to create a matrix that's strong in every direction. The advanced brew's tapered pieces of graphite employ a high-temperature epoxy and eliminate the need for a grid, decreasing the number of fibers and cutting weight by up to 25 percent.
It's a long cast from bamboo, which until recently was the preferred material for top-shelf poles. No synthetic could surpass its light touch and ability to maneuver a tiny fly. But bamboo is a total pain in the ass to work with: It can take 80 hours to craft a single rod. And because of all that labor, fine bamboo rigs sell for around $1,500.
As early as the 1940s, rod makers started experimenting with fiberglass, but it couldn't match the mighty grass. In the '70s, they looked to graphite, but it felt dead. Then, as government aerospace contracts started drying up in the mid-'80s, "guys who had been developing military systems started sending us their resumes," Lepage says. They brought with them the secrets of carbon fiber. "We realized that if we could perfect carbon fiber," he says, "it would make bamboo obsolete." But though the new composite could outcast bamboo, it lacked the feel.
They worked for years with composite, never quite matching nature. Finally last year, Orvis rolled a tube from the unidirectional material. It was less than half the weight of bamboo, just as bendy, and substantially stronger: The Helios was born. It's so light — 2.1 ounces for a 9-foot rod — it's even more precise than the panda food. Bamboo was bested — especially considering that a Helios costs only about $750.
Of course, engineers now have another problem: The Iraq war makes it tough to get their secret stuff. "Since we're using the raw materials of Apache helicopter blades, it's not easy to secure an order for fishing rods," Lepage says. If the carbon-fiber supply does dry up, there's a riverbank not far from the shop where bamboo grows like crazy.
: 15 years of Wired Fetish. That's 442 pages of obsessive gear lust. We were bound to make a few bad selections...
Proceed CD Library Premiere Issue 1993 $12,000
: May/June 1993 Under $100
: Nov 1993 $699
: Feb 1994 $400
: Feb 1994 $5,000
: Mar 1994 $1,999
: Jul 1994 $100
: Aug 1994 $6,000
: Sep 1994 $85,000
: Oct 1994 $3,615
: Feb 1995 $9,000 a pair
: Aug 1995 Shirt: $34.50, Pants: $24
: Oct 1995 $5,198
: Oct 1995 $15
: Dec 1995 $4,869
Of all the copy shops in all of England, Trudy Coughlan had the rotten luck of walking into Document Image Processing.
It was June 2007 in sleepy Surrey County, and Coughlan, a statuesque blonde, sauntered through the door of the shop holding a sheaf of 780 pages. Scan them onto two CDs, she told the clerk, a forgettable middle-aged guy in a forgettable office park in the middle of nowhere. Nothing strange about the order, unless you happened to be a Formula One fan and happened to take a close look at the material: schematic drawings, technical reports, pictures, and financial information — enough insider dope to design a Formula One race car. Each page was emblazoned with one of the most famous logos in the world: the prancing black horse of Ferrari.
Surrey is McLaren country, just down the road from what locals call the Spaceship, the futuristic, top-secret, half underground headquarters of the McLaren Formula One racing team. But as it happened, the copy clerk was a rabid Ferrari fan — among the legion who worshipped Ferrari's star F1 driver Michael Schumacher and agonized over the fact that the Ferrari team was lagging behind top-ranked McLaren that summer.
"Trudy Coughlan," the woman said when he asked her name.
When she left, the clerk Googled.
First he Googled Trudy Coughlan and discovered she was the wife of Michael Coughlan, chief designer of ... McLaren's Formula One racing team.
Then he Googled Ferrari until he found the name and email address of the company's Formula One sporting director, Stefano Domenicali, in Maranello, Italy.
"Dear Mr. Domenicali," the clerk typed. He proceeded to spill the strange tale of the woman with the stack of what appeared to be top-secret Ferrari documents.
The next morning, as Domenicali sifted through his inbox, he came to the missive from Surrey. He immediately forwarded it to Ferrari security.
A few days later, Trudy Coughlan picked up the two CDs, along with the 780 pages of documents. Following her husband's instructions, she destroyed the papers in a home shredder and burned the remains in their back garden.
Thus began the biggest scandal ever to rock the world of Formula One racing.
Formula One is a deafeningly loud, extraordinarily expensive, rock-star-meets-the-road spectacle. It's a multinational pastime in Europe, where hundreds of thousands of fans pay up to $1,000 a ticket to watch 22 drivers from 11 teams go around complex circuits at 200 miles per hour. In a series of 18 races (or Grand Prix) in Monaco, Turkey, Japan, Brazil, Bahrain, and elsewhere, the drivers compete for points based on their place at the finish of each race. At the end of every March-to-November season, the circuit's highest point earners are crowned in two ways: by team (the Constructors' Championship) and by driver (the Drivers' Championship).
While the drivers with multimillion-dollar contracts command the attention and acclaim, the real competitors in Formula One are the cars themselves: ultralight, mid-engine, open-cockpit marvels of precision engineering, power, and speed. "The difference in raw driving ability between the fastest and the slowest driver is unlikely to be more than one second per lap," says Autosport writer Mark Hughes. "The difference between the fastest and slowest car is perhaps three or even four seconds per lap. So the fastest driver in the slowest car would still be nowhere, whereas the slowest driver in the fastest car would be quite successful."
The McLaren MP4-22 Mercedes (foreground) edging out the Ferrari F2007 (rear)Unlike Nascar, which keeps the field evenly matched by restricting what race teams can do to their cars, Formula One is all about fine-tuning the vehicles. There are a few general regulations (called the formula), which dictate things like the number of cylinders an engine can have and the car's maximum length. Everything else can be tweaked. The top teams — which have thousands of employees — can blow more than $400 million a year trying to make their cars go a few milliseconds faster.
Formula One cars are made from more than 6,000 components, almost all of them custom-made. Every aspect is aerodynamically designed, from the body to the driver's helmet, and the cars can go from 0 to 100 mph then come to a complete stop, all in less than five seconds. Like jets, the cars rely on wings, or spoilers, in the front and back. But while an aircraft's wings provide lift, an F1 vehicle's spoilers, along with its sloping upper body shape and intricate underbody surfaces, do just the opposite: They create downforce, giving the vehicle wicked-fast cornering speeds and massive amounts of braking power. The downforce is so strong that the cars could theoretically drive upside down on the roof of the tunnel at Monte Carlo, Hughes says. Meanwhile, almost every other aspect of an F1 car — the arrow-shaped body, the low-slung suspension — is designed to reduce drag and maximize straight-line propulsion.
Of course, savvy engineering isn't the only way to get an edge in this fiercely competitive world. It also helps to know what your rivals are up to. F1 teams routinely sneak peeks at one another's cars, mostly in tacitly condoned ways: hiring photographers at the opening of each season to document competitor's cars, watching news feeds of vehicles being lifted by cranes for transport to estimate weight distribution, exchanging gossip and secrets with insiders from other teams. Such light espionage has long been part of the game. And if a team goes too far? Usually nobody cares. When two former Ferrari employees were found guilty in spring 2007 of corporate espionage (passing a limited amount of Ferrari design information to the perennial also-ran Toyota Formula One team), they got only a suspended sentence from the Italian court and not even a handslap by Formula One's governing body.
But when news got out last summer that McLaren, the number-one-ranked team, had hundreds of pages of Ferrari technical documents, the cheating wasn't dismissed so easily. Instead, the story landed on the front pages of newspapers across Europe, and the two F1 teams involved launched an offtrack battle as competitive as anything that happens on the racecourse. At the center were two characters far from the spotlight of superstar drivers and superpowered cars. Up from McLaren's design department and Ferrari's mechanics bay came Michael Coughlan and Nigel Stepney.
Ferrari's home is Maranello, population 15,000, in the Emilia-Romagna region of northern Italy. This is where both the company's F1 and road cars are designed, built, tested, and shipped. To drive into Maranello is to drive into Ferrari's big red pulsating heart. Most everyone here works for Ferrari or is related to someone who does. The streets, restaurants, and bars are filled with mechanics, drivers, support staff, executives, and wide-eyed fans, many dressed in Ferrari red, all proclaiming their allegiance to the most dominant team in Formula One history. At lunch, the faithful pack in at Montana, a restaurant whose walls are crammed with so much Ferrari memorabilia, it's considered an unofficial Ferrari museum. In the background, patrons can hear the constant rumble of race cars roaring around Ferrari's test track a quarter mile away.
As the head of Ferrari's 30 F1 mechanics, Nigel Stepney walked through Maranello like a king. Big and burly, with neatly cropped hair and goatee, he had been an integral part of Ferrari's "dream team" for 15 years, helping them capture five consecutive world championships from 2000 to 2004. The British-born Stepney brought order to the chaos that was Ferrari's nearly all-Italian F1 pit when he joined in 1993. "The pit stops were disorganized before he got there, and he worked well with technical director Ross Brawn in bringing structure and discipline," says someone who knows Ferrari well. "Nigel was exactly what Ferrari needed: someone who could whip the team into shape."
By 2006 Stepney, who had earnings estimated to be upwards of $1 million a year, held enormous clout, deciding which mechanics went on the road — earning them a bump in salary — and which stayed home. He was one of the many intensely competitive, highly strung men who mark their lives by the F1 season, so dedicated to the team that he didn't complain when, at one race, Michael Schumacher roared out of the pit and slammed into him, breaking his ankle. Stepney bled red.
Then, at the end of 2006, Stepney's world, along with the greatest team in Ferrari history, fell apart. First came the news that Schumacher would retire at the end of the season. Then highly respected Ross Brawn announced that he was going on sabbatical. Stepney, who had been Brawn's right hand and a key member of the Brawn-Schumacher inner circle, reportedly hoped that he might get the technical director's job, with its multimillion-dollar salary and infinite esteem.
But Stepney wasn't an engineer. He was a mechanic without a college degree. The Ferrari brass chose as technical director Mario Almondo, an Italian promoted from human resources. Almondo had previously served as Ferrari's head of industrial development of racing, but Stepney still didn't think Almondo had the technical savvy to lead the team's overall car development. Ferrari insiders say Stepney was furious with the choice — so much so that he went public with his grievances.
"I'm looking at spending a year away from Ferrari," he told Autosport in February 2007. "I'm not currently happy within the team. I really want to move forward with my career, and that's something that's not happening right now."
The players, clockwise from top left: McLaren CEO Ron Dennis, McLaren chief designer Michael Coughlan, former Ferrari chief mechanic Nigel Stepney, and FIA head Max Mosley
Speaking out against the house of Ferrari can be punishable by immediate dismissal. Alain Prost, a four-time Formula One world champion, learned this the hard way in 1991 when he essentially said that his Ferrari was driving like a truck. He was fired midseason. Strangely, though, when Stepney spoke out, the Ferrari brass didn't fire him or even publicly comment on his betrayal. And when, out of pique, Stepney asked for a factory-based job, which wouldn't require him to go on the road with the team, his request was granted.
But according to Stepney, that ended up being even worse than getting fired. "Ferrari is unique in Italy; if you go against it, it's like going against the Vatican," Stepney would later tell London's Independent newspaper. "I began to feel like I was some sort of traitor because I no longer wanted to travel. People became scared to talk to me ... the situation was unbearable."
In May 2007, Ferrari caught Stepney seeming to do the unthinkable: attempting to sabotage Ferrari's F1 cars. Suspicions were aroused when mechanics found powder around the refueling tank for a car being readied for the Monaco Grand Prix. They feared someone might have put something in the tank, and Ferrari officials called the police. Stepney was subsequently searched and, sure enough, powder was found in his pockets.
His pants were confiscated, resulting in an absurd scene at police headquarters. "There is a carabinieri marshal in uniform and a Ferrari engineer in his underwear," wrote the newspaper Corriere della Sera. "It is May 18 and the missing pants are those belonging to Nigel Stepney, former coordinator of the mechanics in Maranello."
An F1 gas tank is an intricate, multichambered system designed to ensure that the car never runs out of fuel before its pit stop. Should someone slip powder into this highly pressurized and precise mechanism, it would be catastrophic. Yet there was Stepney, literally with his pants down. Police lab tests soon showed that the powder in his pockets matched the powder found in and around the refueling tank. Closed-circuit TVs also showed Stepney milling about the tank just before the powder was discovered. Police raided Stepney's home and discovered yet more powder matching the residue found in the Ferrari refueling tank and Stepney's pockets. Denying all, Stepney claimed to be the victim of a "dirty tricks campaign" by Ferrari in retaliation for his speaking against the company.
Then, a few weeks later, Domenicali received the email from Surrey, and Ferrari officials realized that the powder might have been the lesser crime.
Ferrari filed a civil lawsuit, and police raided Stepney's home a second time. After analyzing Stepney's laptop, investigators discovered that, at some point, he had printed out the soul of the 2007 Ferrari F1 car: 780 pages that, as court documents would later reveal, constituted "technical documents for designing, engineering, building, checking, testing, developing, and running a Formula One racing car." These included schematic drawings, technical reports, photographs, budget sheets, planning materials, and more. As one Ferrari team member who insisted on anonymity told me, the papers were enough to give an opposing F1 team intimate knowledge of how Ferrari's cars performed. "When you are playing poker, it is important that you know you have an ace. But it is even more important that you know the other guy has two aces. Therefore, you know what you have to do. That is why the consequences of this theft will last for years."
Soon it became clear that Stepney had not only taken some of Ferrari's deepest secrets, he had likely leaked them directly to Ferrari's archrival McLaren, which that spring and summer was dominating F1.
Ron Dennis, McLaren's chair, CEO, and part-owner, carries a Ferrari chip on his shoulder as big as Italy. "I think Ron's always seen Ferrari as the main competition, like the enemy," says John Barnard, who became McLaren's technical director when he, Dennis, and another partner took over the organization in 1980. "I think he's always tried to figure out how Ferrari created so much aura. Why does the name mean so much? Why is the prancing horse one of the most recognized symbols in the world along with Coca-Cola?"
The rivalry goes back to the days of Ferrari founder Enzo Ferrari, who in the 1950s called upstart British teams like McLaren garagisti — garage teams. How galling that label must have been for Dennis, who dropped out of school at 16 to go to work in a garage in Surrey, eventually making his way into F1. Even then Ferrari was a dominant team in the sport and had been since F1 was founded. Ferrari's drivers were heroes, its records unmatched. And when Dennis, Barnard, and another partner acquired McLaren to finally challenge this superiority, some say, Ferrari found new and creative ways to win: "They used their political clout to get the rules changed to try and eliminate some of the advantage that the British teams were getting because of superior aerodynamics," says Barnard, who served as technical director at Ferrari and Benetton after leaving McLaren.
But Dennis persevered. In 1983 he partnered with a Saudi-born French entrepreneur named Mansour Ojjeh, who put up the cash for McLaren to completely rework its engine. The next year the team won both the Drivers' and Constructors' world championship titles — McLaren had arrived. By 2004, Dennis had opened the $600 million McLaren Technology Centre — a space-age cathedral of motor racing designed by Lord Norman Foster and christened by no less than the Queen of England — and filled it with multimillion-dollar cars and superstar drivers. He also started a lucrative partnership with DaimlerChrysler to create the Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren, one of the world's most expensive road cars. Today McLaren is thought to be worth more than $1 billion.
All of it is the result of Dennis' legendary focus on perfection. His fanaticism is so intense that to make sure he never sees a burned-out light in his team's gargantuan Technology Centre, Dennis hired a man whose sole job is to change out bulbs. To keep the Spaceship free of cooking smells, he installed an expensive air pressure system in the staff cafeteria. And to be certain that he never drives over a dirty rock at home, he regularly has the gravel in his considerably long driveway gathered up and washed.
In 2007, as Dennis reached 60, everything in his life seemed to be, well, perfect. He had a fortune estimated at $500 million, made in part by selling half of his original 30 percent stake in McLaren. He traveled to and from races in a $30 million Challenger 604 jet. His family life, which included a 21-year marriage and three children, seemed flawless. Best of all, his F1 team, his life's mission, had reconfigured its car, landed two star drivers — Fernando Alonso and Lewis Hamilton — and was trouncing the competition. By June, McLaren was number one, ahead of BMW-Sauber and, even more important, ahead of Ferrari.
But despite his obsession with perfection, despite his desire to get everything just right, Dennis made one mistake that would undo it all: hiring Michael Coughlan.
In 2002, Coughlan showed up to a job interview at fanatical, formal, straight-laced McLaren in a jacket, jeans, and no socks. A fun-loving career designer, Coughlan's Formula One journey was filled with stints in several different design departments. Nevertheless, he seemed to have the credentials, talent, and drive. Dennis made him chief designer.
"Mike is enormously self-confident, and nothing appears to faze him," writes Steve Matchett in his book The Mechanic's Tale. "He's a big, tall chap and radiates great presence. He can walk into a pub a complete stranger and within minutes the landlord and the four locals at the bar will be chatting with him like they've known him for years."
Coughlan had worked at Ferrari with Stepney, and to learn more about Coughlan (both men declined to participate in this story), I visited John Barnard, who had been their boss for part of that time. Barnard and Coughlan worked together in a satellite design office in England, out of which Barnard later ran his own design company. Stepney worked in Italy. Barnard showed me the cubicle where Coughlan would spend days hunched over a drawing board sketching a faster, sleeker F1 car — something that could take him out of the shadows and into the limelight, possibly getting him promoted all the way to technical director.
Coughlan and Stepney were close, especially on the road, Barnard says. They had worked together since the early 1980s, first at Lotus, then at Benetton, then at Ferrari. "They got along quite well," Barnard says. "They both like to joke, go out and have a drink, and both of them could party pretty hard ... tough, durable characters brought up in racing from their teens."
So it seems natural that when Stepney was feeling betrayed by Ferrari, he reached out to his old pal Coughlan. By then, Coughlan had been chief designer at McLaren for five years. He was responsible for the drawing office, producing renderings and computer models of the company's Formula One car. It was a position with major responsibility and sweet pay: reportedly around $600,000 a year.
During his first call to Coughlan at the beginning of March 2007, Stepney vented his frustration about Ferrari's new technical director. Coughlan listened intently. He was even more intrigued when, later that month, in three emails, Stepney expressed concerns "that certain features of [Ferrari's] car did not comply with the FIA Formula One technical regulations. These details related to a floor device" — a spring mechanism that moves the floor for improved aerodynamic performance when the car reaches a certain speed — and a rear wing flap separator that, in Stepney's view, was illegal.
For Coughlan, the insider information Stepney was offering could be priceless in a quest for a better job, either with his current employer, McLaren, or with someone else. Better yet, Stepney wasn't merely talking, he had proof: details of the floor device. He emailed the schematics to Coughlan, who showed the drawings to a key member of McLaren's executive committee without saying where he'd gotten them. After the renderings of the potentially illegal floor device made the rounds, McLaren's engineering director finally decided to forward them to the regulatory body of Formula One, the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile. But while the FIA determined that the floor device did indeed fall outside Formula One's permissible design regulations, it didn't initiate any action against Ferrari. "As far as we are aware, Ferrari ran their cars with this illegal device at the Australian Grand Prix, which they won," Dennis later complained to the media.
As details of Stepney's deepening rift with Ferrari emerged in F1 gossip circles, Coughlan went to see his superior, Jonathan Neale. He would later say that he had become wary of Stepney by this time, but Ferrari insiders contend that Coughlan was trying to use Stepney's information to leverage his way to a better job at McLaren. After hearing Coughlan's story, though, Neale was sufficiently concerned that he told Coughlan, and later McLaren's IT department, that the company should block any further emails from Stepney. Coughlan says he suggested to Neale that he meet with Stepney and "ask him to stop communicating to me." (Investigators would later ask: What's wrong with just making a telephone call?) When arranging this meeting, however, Coughlan apparently used the opportunity to solicit a further piece of insider information about Ferrari's braking system, which Stepney provided.
In April, Coughlan flew to Barcelona, where Stepney was vacationing, ostensibly to ask Stepney to stop sending him insider information on Ferrari's car.
"After I arrived at Barcelona airport, he took me to a restaurant in the marina," Coughlan said in an affidavit. "Whilst we were having a coffee, Mr. Stepney produced, unsolicited, a diagram of a brake balance assembly used by Ferrari." Then lunch arrived. When they were finished, Coughlan asked Stepney to drive him to the airport. They got into the car, but before putting it in gear, Stepney pulled out the mother lode: a stack of 780 pages of Ferrari documents.
Take a look at this, Stepney said.
"My engineering curiosity got the better of me, and I foolishly took the documents from him," Coughlan said in his affidavit. "I casually flicked through them over the course of the 25-minutes-or-so journey it took for Mr. Stepney to drive me to the airport. I kept hold of the documents and took them home with me."
Coughlan's engineering curiosity apparently intensified. Soon after their meeting in Spain, he and Stepney met for dinner in England, where Stepney gave his old friend what he said were drawings of Ferrari's brake disc. To whom Coughlan showed these documents, and how deeply they burrowed into the perfect McLaren world Ron Dennis had built, would later become the subject of much debate. For now, one thing was clear: Mike Coughlan and Nigel Stepney had information that each might be able to parlay into a new job, perhaps even a posting as technical director for a Formula One team.
Coughlan once again met with Neale for breakfast "to discuss my future with McLaren and the concerns I had," Coughlan said. At the end of the breakfast, Coughlan showed Neale "two or so digital color images from the material that Mr. Stepney had given to me." It was only for a couple of seconds, but long enough for Neale to react with, essentially, What the hell are you doing with that? And Get rid of it, quick.
But Coughlan didn't ditch his trove. Instead, on June 1 he and Stepney met with the CEO of Honda's F1 team at Heathrow Airport, for Stepney "to discuss a possible career opportunity for him at Honda," Coughlan said, adding that he tagged along to see what Honda might have available for him. What were they asking for? "Silly money," one insider says. "Coughlan would be chief designer, and Stepney would be technical director, or vice versa. But they would effectively be the two chief people at Honda. Probably that move was destroyed by the fact that Nigel went in there just asking for silly, silly money."
Before either could strike a deal with a new company, however, Stepney was accused of attempting to sabotage a Ferrari car. Then Trudy Coughlan stepped into the copy shop in Surrey, and the scandal exploded into the Formula One world.
In early July 2007, the bucolic silence of Coughlan's Surrey estate — known as the Barn — was broken by an army of investigators, lawyers, and computer specialists armed with a civil search warrant. They interrogated the Coughlans and searched their house, looking for the two CDs of Ferrari documents, as well as computers, mobile phones, USB devices, BlackBerrys, phone storage cards, and other devices.
McLaren suspended Coughlan, and Ferrari released news that Stepney had been fired. On July 4, the FIA announced it had begun an investigation. The scandal made international headlines, and the two spies, Stepney and Coughlan, became household names in what came to be called Stepney-gate or, in Italy, the Spy Story.
Instead of slinking away, Stepney went on the offensive. He held a conference call with a group of British journalists. "I have no idea how Mike Coughlan got the documents, and I have no idea what exactly he is supposed to have," he said. "I categorically deny that I copied them or that I sent them to Mike Coughlan."
"I admit it looks blatantly obvious," he added. "But something is happening inside Ferrari." He had the papers legitimately, he insisted, because he needed them for his work in the racing simulator. Stepney claimed that after the discovery of the papers and the powder, he was spied upon, harassed, and followed. He went so far as to claim that his life and the lives of his family members were in danger. "There have been high-speed chases," he claimed. "I had no option but to get out of Italy."
He insisted that Ferrari was trying to discredit him because he knew all of Ferrari's secrets. "Ferrari is terrified that what I have in my mind is valuable," he insisted. "I guess I know where the bodies are buried from the last 10 years, and there were a lot of controversies in that time." He still hasn't revealed which bodies he was talking about or where they were buried. Though when I was trying to get him to answer questions for this article, he did email me to say, "You'll have to read the book." It might be a long wait: As of this writing, he is still supposedly searching for a publisher.
At the British Grand Prix in Silverstone, England on July 8, Ferrari driver Kimi Räikkönen won, and McLaren's drivers came in second and third. Thanks to the points they earned, McLaren was now leading the Formula One Constructors' Championship with 128 points. Ferrari was in second place with 103 points. The growing scandal, however, overshadowed McLaren's well-deserved celebration.
"I live and breathe this team; there is no way anything incorrect would ever happen to our team," Dennis told the media at a party after the race. What should have been a glorious event turned into a glum one. Even the caterers seemed to conspire against him, serving a wine labeled Spy Valley.
Shortly after he returned to Surrey, Dennis' Spaceship came under siege. FIA investigators and computer experts scoured the place, interviewing 20 engineers, accessing 22 personal computers of McLaren team members, and retrieving 1.4 terabytes of data stored on the central computer system of McLaren Racing. Ever the perfectionist, Dennis had his team comply completely with the investigators, hoping to prove that McLaren was innocent and that the Ferrari information had only been accepted by a rogue employee out to land a better job.
On July 26, the World Motor Sport Council of the FIA ruled that the McLaren team was in breach of the International Sporting Code. However, the FIA also said that the stolen information appeared to be limited to Coughlan and didn't penalize the entire team. But Ferrari refused to let the matter die; they prevailed on the Italian motorsports authority to file an appeal. Dennis was incensed. "The World Championship should be contested on the track, not in courts or in the press," he wrote to the president of the Italian motorsports authority. And why, Dennis and others would later ask, should McLaren be punished for the actions of a single employee while Ferrari, whose employee passed along the information, went untouched?
By the Hungarian Grand Prix in the first week of August, Dennis was starting to feel better. His team was still in first place, after all, and the Coughlan mess was beginning to pass.
Then, during the qualifying round, McLaren's upstart star Lewis Hamilton refused to let the team's world-champion driver Fernando Alonso pass him. Alonso retaliated by blocking Hamilton in the pit lane to hurt the rookie's time. Alonso was immediately penalized — instead of beginning the grand prix in pole position, he would have to start from sixth place. At a press conference that afternoon, Alonso and Hamilton launched into a public argument over what had happened.
The next day, before the grand prix started, Alonso marched into McLaren's mobile conference center and vented his rage at Dennis. The Spaniard insinuated he had information that would be disastrous for McLaren, and he would release it to the FIA unless Dennis made things right. It was Dennis' worst nightmare: What Alonso was saying meant that not only had Stepney's documents gone beyond Coughlan, they had been passed so deep within his team that even the drivers had access to them.
"Stop!" Dennis says he told Alonso after the driver made "specific reference to emails from a McLaren engineer."
After Alonso left, Dennis asked his chief of staff, Martin Whitmarsh, if any of what Alonso had said could be true. "We have been too thorough in talking to the engineers," Whitmarsh assured him. "He cannot have been telling the truth."
Dennis couldn't leave it at that. His meticulous nature wouldn't allow it. So he called FIA president Max Mosley. Dennis and Mosley were hardly friends — Mosley had subtly suggested that Dennis was "not the sharpest knife in the box" at a press conference in 2004. Still, Dennis picked up the phone and essentially ratted McLaren out. "I was upset and angry, but mainly upset," he would later say at a meeting with the FIA. "Max calmed me down ... If he felt there is any real validity in what Fernando had said, he would contact me prior to taking any action."
Nearly a month later, without warning Dennis, Mosley sent a letter to McLaren's three top drivers, demanding that they turn over any confidential Ferrari technical information they might have.
"We don't call him Mad Max for nothing," says Paul Stoddart, an Australian millionaire, airline mogul, and former owner of the Minardi racing team. Mosley is the son of Oswald Mosley, late leader of the British Union of Fascists, who married Max Mosley's mother, the famous Diana Mitford, in 1936. The wedding took place at the home of Nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels, with Adolf Hitler attending as a guest of honor.
On September 13, 2007, the lawyers and principals on both teams were called to the FIA's Paris headquarters for an "extraordinary meeting," as the FIA put it. For the first time, all the evidence poured forth. Not only did the FIA have records of 288 SMS messages and 35 phone calls between Coughlan and Stepney, it also had a series of damning emails — discussions of the stolen papers and the Ferrari "mole" from no less insiders than McLaren's own drivers.
From McLaren test driver Pedro de la Rosa to Coughlan on March 21, 2007: "Hi, Mike, do you know the Red Car's Weight Distribution? It would be important for us to know so that we could try it in the simulator. Thanks in advance, Pedro. p.s. I will be in the simulator tomorrow."
De la Rosa later confirmed that Coughlan replied by text message with precise details of the Ferrari's weight distribution.
De la Rosa later sent an email to Alonso describing Ferrari's weight distribution, to which Alonso replied on the same day with an email that included a section headed "Ferrari": "Its weight distribution surprises me; I don't know if it's 100% reliable, but at least it draws attention."
Soon after, De la Rosa emailed Alonso, passing on information from Coughlan about the CO2 Ferrari used in its tires, ending with, "We'll have to try it, it's easy!" Alonso replied that it is "very important" that McLaren give the gas a test.
De la Rosa emailed Coughlan on April 12: "Hi Mike, I hope you are well. Can you explain, as much as you can, about Ferrari's braking system ... Are they adjusting from inside the cockpit?" Coughlan replied two days later with a technical description.
And an email from one senior McLaren engineer to another: "Is the Ferrari wheelbase an accurate figure? Did it come from photos or our mole?"
Most damning of all was this email from De la Rosa to Alonso: "All the information from Ferrari is very reliable. It comes from Nigel Stepney, their former chief mechanic — I don't know what post he holds now. He's the same person who told us in Australia that [Ferrari driver] Kimi [Reäikkönen] was stopping in lap 18. He's very friendly with Mike Coughlan, our Chief Designer, and told him that."
This new information led the FIA to conclude that Ferrari insider information and documents had, in fact, found their way to several McLaren engineers and drivers. Not only did the engineers know that confidential Ferrari information had come from a Ferrari mole; they were prepared to use it to McLaren's advantage, if they hadn't already done so.
Mosley delivered the harsh verdict: McLaren would be stripped of all manufacturers' points (team points) for the '07 season. This meant the Constructor's Championship, which McLaren had been leading, was now lost. Then came the fine: $100 million, the biggest in the history of Formula One. Finally, and most embarrassingly for McLaren, a technical delegation would be dispatched to inspect McLaren's 2008 cars to determine whether any Ferrari information had been incorporated into the vehicles.
"I do not fear the task at all," Dennis stoically insisted of the inspection. "I care only about the McLaren name."
What did McLaren actually get from Stepney? It's debatable. Of course, McLaren received inside information about Ferrari's pit stop strategy, finances, personnel, and other elements that might have given the team a few seconds' advantage on the track. "If you can second-guess their pit stop strategy, without them knowing yours, you're at an obvious advantage," F1 writer Hughes says.
The aerodynamic map of the car would enable McLaren to show "what drag and downforce Ferrari was getting for given ride height and wings," Hughes says. Downforce and drag are always at odds in Formula One, one delivering better handling, the other increasing speed. Knowing how an opponent has managed this issue, Hughes points out, can help you determine how to adjust your own car and can be vital to knowing where the other team is going to be weak.
Another questionable area is tires and tire gas. In 2007, all teams were required to use Bridgestone tires. Ferrari had long ridden on Bridgestones, but McLaren was used to Michelins. Knowing how Ferrari dealt with these tires would certainly be helpful to McLaren. Until that point, McLaren had been filling its tires with nitrogen. But McLaren at least considered filling its tires with CO2 , just as Ferrari was doing.
But much of the data — like wheelbase measurements and weight distribution — had been deduced long ago by the subtle spying all teams do. Was the new information enough to get a unique advantage? Maybe, but many experts find it unlikely. The truth is, Ferrari almost certainly got more from the exchange than McLaren did: a way to trounce McLaren in public and through the FIA.
"FIA stands for Ferrari International Assistance," quips Stoddart, the former Minardi owner. Mosley, he says, came down hard on Dennis for the kinds of activities that nearly all of the teams have engaged in at one point or another. "To say the punishment fits the crime? The crime hasn't been proven in any reputable court of law. It hasn't been tried." He then recites for me a laundry list of FIA biases in favor of Ferrari and against McLaren, and the fate of those who dare challenge Ferrari.
The last race of the 2007 season was the Brazilian Grand Prix on October 21 in Se3o Paulo. It would determine the Drivers' Championship. McLaren was leading the event, and the team was prepared to extract some degree of solace for the bloody season it was leaving behind. McLaren's young superstar, Lewis Hamilton, had a four-point lead over teammate Alonso and was seven points ahead of Ferrari's Reäikkönen, whom Ferrari had poached from McLaren the previous year with a record-setting, three-year, $150 million contract. All Hamilton had to do was finish in fifth place or better and the Drivers' Championship would be his and McLaren's.
But the prancing horse would not go down. A gearbox problem slowed Hamilton, who fell to seventh place. Alonso got trapped on Hamilton's left and finished third. When the checkered flag fell, it was Re4ikkoenen in first, giving Big Red the Drivers' Championship by a single point. The streets of Maranello, where giant screens showing the race were erected in the town square, went nuts. "It was the most important victory in Ferrari history," says Enzo Ferrari biographer Leo Turrini. "It was like a revenge when you need to be repaid after you suffer an injustice."
But 2008 brings a new season. As of this writing — three races in — BMW is leading the Constructors' Championship with 30 points, Ferrari is second with 29, and McLaren is third with 28.
Eager to stay above reproach, McLaren told the FIA that it would avoid using anything that even looked like it came from Ferrari, including quickshift (a type of gearbox), fast fill (a fueling technique), and CO2 as a tire gas. Ferrari president Luca Cordero di Montezemolo was hardly forgiving. "Whoever wins the title will do so either with a little bit of Ferrari or with a proper Ferrari," he said. "Because the new McLaren is a silver Ferrari."
Stepney, who recently became director of race technologies for onboard camera company Gigawave, could still face criminal charges for the alleged doping of the F1 cars (he still denies all charges). Coughlan, who was officially fired from McLaren in March 2008, hasn't found a new position and is facing civil charges.
For his part, Mosley finds himself embroiled in a scandal of his own. International headlines exploded in early April, when the British newspaper News of the World posted a video of him in an underground S&M "torture dungeon" in the Chelsea district of London. The FIA head, according to the paper, was conducting a bizarre five-hour "Nazi-style" orgy with five prostitutes, reenacting a concentration camp scene and spanking at least one women with a leather strap while counting out the strokes in German. (Mosley denies there was a Nazi theme and has filed a lawsuit against the paper.)
The apparent disgrace of Mosley might offer Ron Dennis some comfort. But Dennis' meticulously constructed life has all but fallen apart. The team he spent more than 25 years building has been besmirched, tagged as a bunch of cheaters. There was even talk of his leaving McLaren. And in early 2008, Dennis and his wife announced their separation.
"Ron Dennis aims to be the best there is," John Barnard says. "To have the best team, the smartest team, the cleanest garage. Everything that he can change by spending more than the other guys, he will do. But with all of that, he still didn't win the championship last year. Ferrari got him again. Ferrari took the championship off of McLaren. Then, on top of that, Ferrari managed to create a political situation, which ended up costing McLaren 50 million quid [$100 million]. They've scored two out of two!"
The final insult is that the whistle-blower came not from Ferrari's headquarters in Maranello but from a Ferrari fan in McLaren's own backyard. What is it about Ferrari? Dennis is still no closer to answering this question.
I recently drove from McLaren's futuristic headquarters, which rises from the fields outside Woking, to a low-slung office building that houses a copy shop where, sources had assured me, Trudy Coughlan had taken the infamous documents. I rang the buzzer but got no answer. After a few minutes, a middle-aged man in a well-worn navy blue sweater hustled out. I mentioned the name of the informant from the court documents, and he answered, "Yes, that's me."
When I told him that I wanted to hear about his role in the F1 scandal, he blanched. "I get that all the time," he said, backpedaling. "But it's not me."
He added that he wished it had been him being hailed as a hero in Maranello by no less than Ferrari president Luca Cordero di Montezemolo, who dedicated the team's 2007 victory to "our fans who believe in the fairness of sport and to this English gentleman" who outed the stolen documents. "Without him," Montezemolo told Ferrari fans after one race, "it would have never been possible to shine the light onto one of the worst pages in the history of motor sport."
The more I grilled him, the more the guy in the sweater clammed up. Finally he walked away, faithful, like all red-blooded Ferrari fans, to the team's history, victories, and most of all, its secrets.
Mark Seal (markseal1@aol.com) is working on a book about the life and murder of Kenyan filmmaker Joan Root, to be published by Random House in 2009.
Heroes are only as good as their rides. Think of James Bond's Aston Martin DB5 (ejector seat!). Wonder Woman's invisible jet (stealth!). Roy Rogers' Trigger (skinned!). So it's no surprise that as Hollywood "reimagines" various action heroes, their vehicles get overhauled, too. They have to keep pace with the state of the art in fanciful awesomeness ... and maybe sell a few toys. Here's a look at the power-ups for the 2008 model line.
1) Knight Rider
1982: KITT
Superpowers: Flamethrowers and tear gas launcher rain computerized fury on members of Devon's shit list. Turbo boost!
Alter ego: 1982 Pontiac Trans Am — a classic.
2008: KITT
Superpowers: The oscillating red Cylon scan strip returns. The vehicular robot shape-shifts Transformer-style into a lower, angrier attack mode. It hacks computers, is impervious to conventional munitions, and fires lasers. Most important, KITT speaks with the voice of Val Kilmer. Nobody feels the need for speed like Iceman (except for Goose ... poor, poor Goose).
Alter ego: Unfortunately, Pontiac ditched the Trans Am in 2002 (sniffle), so Knight Industries had to create its new overclocked crime-fighter out of a 2008 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500KR.
2) The Dark Knight
1966: The Batcycle
Superpowers: Er ... the detachable sidecar for Robin? Wing-shaped fairings?
Alter ego: The Caped Crusader's go-to bike was actually a batted-out 1966 Yamaha Catalina 250.
2008: The Batpod
Superpowers: Twin machine guns and massive wheels with growling engines in the hubs. Self-righting, thanks to an onboard gyroscope. Suspension lowers Batman behind the tires for cover. "The thing needs to feel tough," production designer Nathan Crowley says. "You've got to feel like you could crash it, and it would survive."
Alter ego: None, but seven Batpods do exist: four flat-out racers, one that does the lowering trick, a tracking vehicle for close-ups, and the super-skidder from the movie's trailer. Only one stuntman in the world can drive them.
3) Speed Racer
1966: Mach 5
Superpowers: Hydraulic jacks for sweet jumps, whirling saw blades, and a robot homing pigeon.
Alter ego: None, but its cartoon curves resemble those of a 1960s Corvette.
2008: Mach 6
Superpowers: T180 steering lets every wheel move independently. "We used that to create a new look for drifting," says the film's visual effects supervisor John Gaeta. "A super-drift, if you will." Plus, the spinning saw blades and jacks are back, along with all the Mach 5's onboard accoutrements: tire crampons, bulletproof cockpit and wheel shields. They enable the extreme-sports-style vehicle-to-vehicle combat that Gaeta's team calls car-fu.
Alter ego: Nada. The Mach 6 exists only inside the Wachowski brothers' digital render garage.
Newsweek sparked a conflagration among conservative Christians last week by pointing out that Christian dating site BigChurch.com is owned by Penthouse Media Group.
This wouldn't have been big news to BigChurch members who bothered to look under the site's hood. The Christian dating site has been operated by social networking giant Various, Inc. (which runs AdultFriendFinder.com, Bondage.com and Penthouse.com) for years. Penthouse Media Group acquired BigChurch, along with dozens of other niche social networking sites, when it purchased Various last December.
As a result of the purchase, Penthouse is now just one brand among many in a corporation that focuses on social networking, says Penthouse Media Group CEO Marc Bell.
Some people still think of Penthouse as Playboy's dirty cousin, even though Penthouse changed hands in 2004 and is now trying to be one step raunchier than Maxim rather than one step classier than Anal Sluts 13.
But when an old-guard porn kingpin like Penthouse becomes just another niche, you know that times have changed. This focus on social networking supports my ongoing argument that the fantasy of porn will continue to yield to the fantasy of sex, and that savvy adult companies will keep up with these changing consumer expectations.
I also think the fantasy of sex, served by both mainstream dating sites and adult social networks, will open our wallets in ways online porn hasn't for years.
Of course, social media does not guarantee sex any more than porn does. But it provides the anticipation of sex, the possibility of sex, the idea that you just might get lucky. It's the premise of porn, manifested in reality. Almost.
Social networking promises a new experience each time. And free porn can only be an advantage in an adults-only social networking context. Just ask YouPorn.
If customers find themselves flirting and even cybering on a regular basis, they return again and again, paying for premium memberships until disillusionment sets in (why am I not getting laid for real?). Those who hook up in person remain members as long as the nookie is more fun than the drama.
Old-style softcore simply can't compete with that. Not because we don't like to look at it, but because we don't like to pay for it -- especially when we can see the same thing on the social networking sites while chatting with the women in the pictures.
It's not like BigChurch isn't about sex. It's just more subtle than a site that's explicitly aimed at swingers. BigChurch's function is to connect people whose concepts of sex are tied so closely to faith and doctrine that it can be difficult to meet potential partners in more traditional settings.
Many people who identify as Christians have a fairly secular attitude toward premarital sex, while others believe in sexual pleasure within marriage. A handful still relegate sex to procreation, and God forbid that you (or at least, she) enjoy it.
With all this variation, it's possible that Christians benefit more from online dating than even kinky people do, in that they don't waste as much time chatting up people who don't share their particular beliefs. After all, with an online matchmaker, it's just a matter of checking the right boxes.
Whether BigChurch can survive the public link to Penthouse Media Group remains to be seen. I'm not sure Penthouse would miss BigChurch if a membership exodus killed the Christian dating site. BigChurch says it has a mere half-million members, while AdultFriendFinder alone claims about 24 million.
Even selling BigChurch might be a challenge now, as the URL will carry the taint of blatant sexuality, unless whoever buys it can pull off a "saving BigChurch from the devil" marketing campaign.
Given that Penthouse Media Group owns all of the FriendFinder and Spring Street Networks sites, as well as the legendary Danni.com and several webcam networks, it's hard to see how losing one small property would make much of a dent.
It's the corporate version of the Question of Our Age: "What if my day job learns about my sex blog?" Only this time, sex will win, either way.
See you in a fortnight,
Regina Lynn
- - -
Regina Lynn shows you how to have more fun with sex in her new book, Sexier Sex: Lessons From the Brave New Sexual Frontier, available now.
SAN DIEGO -- Forget everything you've seen on CSI. In the information age, crime scene forensics are beginning to take a back seat to the science of recovering and sifting through evidence hidden on computers, cellphones and thumb drives.
Nowhere is that shift clearer than at the FBI's Regional Computer Forensics Lab here, which once lifted traces of incriminating Google searches from a suspect's hard drive to help convict him of murder. This week the lab became the sixth computer forensic lab in the nation to be accredited by the American Society of Crime Laboratory Directors, in another sign that computer forensics is no longer just about investigating hacker attacks.
"We've found video of gangsters rapping a song about a murder they committed," RCFL examiner John Leamons says.
The growth of law enforcement computer labs is an indication of how technology is increasingly involved in, or on the periphery of, criminal activity. San Diego-area law enforcement agencies founded the first regional forensic lab in 1998; there are now 14 such labs in the United States, with two more coming online this year. Last year the labs collectively performed more than 13,000 forensics examinations. The San Diego lab alone handled more than 1,000 requests from 40 law enforcement agencies in 2007, including 171 child pornography cases and 160 murder investigations.
In its early days, the RCFL examiners not only recovered the data, they analyzed it for evidentiary value based on the particulars of the case. But with exponentially growing data and caseloads, the 22 examiners here now focus on collecting and preserving data in a manner that will hold up in court, then hand that data back to the police agency for analysis.
Not surprisingly, the most valuable information comes from the files that suspects thought they had deleted, but which remained hidden in the nooks and crannies of their hard drives. "The key to computer forensics is unallocated space," says Leamons, who is on loan to the lab from the San Diego Police Department.
No one can remember a case being kicked because the lab made an error, but they can remember cases where they found evidence that exonerated people charged with crimes, Leamons says.
Cellphones pose a particular challenge, says Rebecca Adimari, one of the five examiners who work on them.
"Each has its own operating system and frequency -- there's probably over 500 makes and models and not many of them are the same," she explains. "There can be so much evidence on there."
From the unique ringtone caught on camera during a holdup -- to the accidentally recorded conversations on voice notes, to the Israeli thug keeping notes of extortion visits on his PDA -- the way people use their phones can be pretty incriminating.
"When they arrested the Arellano Felix people (a gang of Mexican drug lords later convicted of murder and drug crimes in 2007), they recovered 14 phones including one with a photo of a machine gun," Adimari says.
She has hundreds of power and data cables, since they're all peculiar to individual phones. And she has a special box that blocks signals on the phones in the lab, so no information is lost or compromised.
Examiner Patrick Lim, from the Naval Criminal Investigative Services, says he recently recovered data from a hard drive that had been burnt to a crisp. Asked if it was from an arson or a murder, Lim says he can't reveal the details.
"It was burned. That's all I can say."
1962: A team of 12 doctors at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston reattaches the severed arm of an injured boy. It is the first successful reattachment of a human limb.
Freckle-faced Everett "Red" Knowles had been trying to hop a freight train in Somerville, Massachusetts. He was thrown against a stone wall that ripped his right arm off cleanly at the shoulder. Knowles walked away from the tracks, using his left hand to hold his right arm inside a bloody sleeve. A police ambulance rushed the 12-year-old across the Charles River to Boston, where emergency-room staff discovered the extent of his injury.
Surgeons had successfully attached partly severed limbs before, but never had the ideal candidate for a complete reimplantation, or replantation. Mass General's 30-year-old chief surgical resident, Dr. Ronald Malt, had Knowles' arm put on ice, and he assembled the team of experts he needed. All of the techniques they used that day had been used before, but never in the complete combination that saved an entire limb.
In hours of surgery, doctors reconnected the blood vessels, pinned the arm bone together, and grafted skin and muscle together, but they decided to wait to reattach the nerves. To their delight, Knowles' hand turned pink and a pulse returned to the wrist.
Malt became a celebrity. Knowles became a celebrity. The Little Leaguer got souvenirs and letters from Major Leaguers.
In September, doctors reattached four major nerve trunks. Within weeks, Knowles was complaining of severe pain in the arm, which in the unusual circumstances was a good sign.
A year after the surgery Knowles' arm and fingers were sensitive to heat, cold and touch, and he could move his fingers and bend his wrist. He could also play first base -- but only with his one good hand. The year after that, he was playing tennis and baseball. After four years of recovery, Knowles had the same use of his right arm and hand as a natural lefty. He eventually drove a six-wheel truck and lifted sides of beef at his job.
By 1966, surgeons had performed dozens of similar operations, failing at least half the time. That led to a editorial in the Journal of the American Medical Association suggesting that limb replantation be performed only if the patient is under 30 with no other major injury, with the severed limb in good shape, and is in a hospital with top-flight medical facilities. For all other cases, JAMA wrote, an artificial limb might be the better solution.
Source: Various
: Photo: Matt Mallams/Wired.comThe experts at the FBI's newly accredited Regional Computer Forensics Lab in San Diego have already helped solve murders, child porn cases and robberies. They're among the best in the nation at pulling evidence from hard drives, cellphones and memory cards.
There are now 14 such labs in the United States, with two more coming online this year. Last year, the FBI labs collectively performed more than 13,000 forensics examinations. The San Diego lab alone handled more than 1,000 requests from 40 law enforcement agencies in 2007, including 171 child pornography cases and 160 murder investigations.
Wired.com got a rare look at the inner workings of the San Diego lab this week, and we snapped some photos of the toys inside.
Left: Darrell Foxworth greets members of the media in the entrance of the San Diego Regional Computer Forensic Laboratory.
: Photo: Matt Mallams/Wired.comJeff Cable, assistant director of RCFL, opens the door in to the lab to start the tour. Cable notes that it is very rare that they ever allow anyone but FBI agents through this door.
: Photo: Matt Mallams/Wired.comThis device copies the data off the hard drives and makes sure it can't be overwritten.
: Photo: Matt Mallams/Wired.comFBI agent Dan Dandridge plugs a hard drive into a "lunch box," which clones the data off the drive as the first step of a noninvasive examination.
: Photo: Matt Mallams/Wired.comCellphones can be a treasure-trove of forensic evidence. In one case, a man was robbing a store when his cellphone rang. Captured by a security camera, and studied by the lab, the robber's unique ringtone eventually led to his conviction.
: Photo: Matt Mallams/Wired.comThis set of equipment is the AVID video processing system at the San Diego Regional Computer Forensics Laboratory.
: Photo: Matt Mallams/Wired.comForensic examiner Tim Hamon shows off the inside of the RCFL mobile unit.
: Photo: Matt Mallams/Wired.comLacking in subtlety, the rolling lab is not used in covert surveillance missions.
For decades, scientists have dreamed of computer chips that manipulate light rather than electricity. Unlike electrons, photons can cross paths without interfering with each other, so optical chips could compute in three dimensions rather than two, crunching data in seconds that now takes weeks to process.
For now, though, optical computing remains a dream. The chips require crystals that channel photons as nimbly as silicon channels electrons -- and though engineers have been able to imagine the ideal photonic crystal, they've been unable to build it.
Enter a beetle known as Lamprocyphus augustus. In a study published this week in Physical Review E, researchers at the University of Utah describe how the inch-long Brazilian beetle's iridescent green scales are composed of chitin arranged by evolution in precisely the molecular configuration that has confounded the would-be fabricators of optical computers.
By using the scales as a semiconductor mold, researchers hope to finally build the perfect photonic crystal.
"We haven't been able to manufacture materials at the nanometer resolution. We knew the ideal structure, but we couldn't make it," said study co-author Michael Bartl, a University of Utah chemist.
Bartl's team stumbled across L. augustus by sheer luck. Study co-author Lauren Richey, now a Brigham Young University undergraduate, studied beetle iridescence for a high school science fair project. She asked BYU biologist John Gardner, also a co-author of the study, to examine L. augustus with his lab's electron microscope.
When the researchers scoped the scales, they noticed something strange: No matter the angle of viewing, the scales always appeared in the same shade of green.
That's unusual for iridescent surfaces, which derive their color from light refracted through semi-transparent layers. Further study revealed that the quality came from the scales' molecular arrangement, which had the same pattern as the atoms of carbon in a diamond.
Diamonds themselves are too dense to serve as photonic crystals, but researchers long ago identified their configuration as perfectly suited for manipulating light in a three-dimensional space.
"You can take the light, criss-cross it and it doesn't interfere. It allows you to build more complex and compact architectures," said Paul Braun, a University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign photonic crystal specialist. The crystals' transmission purity would also eliminate waste heat generated by traditional electron-based circuits. That heat is a limiting factor on traditional microchip capacities.
Laboratory attempts at mimicking diamonds have been largely unsuccessful. Braun said that researchers at Sandia National Laboratories came close, but each crystal took a painstaking month to build.
"They're almost impossible to fabricate," said Zhong Lin Wang, a Georgia Institute of Technology material scientist. Wang developed photonic crystals based on the scales of butterfly wings, but they didn't possess the elusive diamond form. "If this beetle has an arrangement like diamonds, that's truly unique."
Bartl said that optical computer chips won't actually run on beetle scales. Instead he plans to use the scales as a mold, replacing chitin with semiconductor material.
"This could motivate another round of serious science," said Braun. "If there's an easy way to create the diamond structure, that's going to expedite progress in the field."
"Optical computers could do in a second what now takes days or weeks," said Bartl. "And we're providing the materials."
A year ago this June, Taliban fighters streamed into the remote town of Chora in southern Afghanistan expecting an easy victory over impoverished villagers. Instead, they met heavy resistance from scores of uniformed Afghan men.
Those so-called Afghan National Auxiliary Police (ANAP), all formerly in the service of local warlords, had received two months of training by Dutch and American soldiers and were now the first line of defense against the Taliban.
Arming tribesmen was a risky idea. True, this sort of tribal initiative had been effective in Iraq. But NATO commanders feared that Afghan loyalties to their warlords ran too deep. NATO was “arming people who were not necessarily in line with the [Afghan] government,” U.S. Brig. Gen. Robert Cone told Wired.com.
So, last month, NATO fired the auxiliary cops and scrapped the tribal strategy, leaving gaping holes in Afghanistan's defenses. The fix? Marines, of course, armed with fingerprint pads, iris scanners and electronic databases.
With these biometric tools, the Marines are planning to recruit new cops who have no ties to tribal warlords. “We know there are some shadow police and some militia-type police,” Lt. Col. Ray Hall, the Marine commander, said. “Once we go through the vetting process, we'll have everybody screened … so that problem should go away.”
That means scanning every new recruit's unique iris “eye prints,” logging their thumb prints and feeding it all into a growing, but still very spotty, national database linked to criminal and intelligence records. If a cop has any known warlord ties, he's disqualified from serving.
CIA teams used FBI biometrics while hunting for known Al Qaeda operatives in Afghanistan in 2001, and since then, the military has gathered data on almost every Afghan it comes in regular contact with.
There's one more problem. Not all the military databases can talk to one another. “We haven't standardized,” said Larry Schneider, a Northrop Grumman VP who last year was working on collapsing many biometrics systems into just one.
Until everyone is looking at the same data, seditious Afghan cops will probably keep falling through the cracks.

Also on Portfolio
Airline Execs Have Their Heads ... in the Clouds
Ted Leonsis on AOL, Microsoft, the NHL
One Word for Michael Dell: Plastics
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineWho knew that Amazon C.E.O. Jeff Bezos chose his wife in part because he felt she could, if necessary, get him out of a third-world prison? Long after most other dotcom founders have moved on, Bezos, 44, remains one of the internet’s success stories. In 2007, his business pulled in revenue of nearly $15 billion, up 38 percent from the previous year. Amazon’s stock keeps rising, and Bezos becomes ever richer. His estimated worth is about $8 billion.
The 13-year-old company is the biggest online retailer in the world, but recently Bezos has taken Amazon beyond retailing; it now sells its computing, warehousing, and delivery services to other companies. Even tiny startups can rent just about anything Amazon does. And the company made news with its debut of the Kindle, a slim electronic book reader with iPhone-like cachet.
Yet Bezos is not without challenges. Slowing consumer spending could put the kibosh on Amazon's growth, even though it just hired 500 more employees and is building a new distribution center. The company is also pushing hard into the market for digital downloads of music and movies, taking on entrenched leader Apple. Most ominously, Google recently announced that it would launch a competing, and free, service for small businesses called Google Apps.
Condé Nast Portfolio contributing editor Kevin Maney interviewed Bezos before a packed auditorium at New York University's Stern School of Business. The following is an edited transcript. (Watch video.)
Portfolio: You're hiring 500 people and building a new distribution center. Aren't you worried about the economy?
Jeff Bezos: The fourth quarter of last year was tough for a lot of consumer companies, and we had a terrific Q4. We’re probably not a good leading indicator for the economy as a whole, just because we don’t have a lot of operating history.
Portfolio: Let's talk about the Kindle. What do you want it to be?
Bezos: Any book, in any language, ever in print should be available in less than 60 seconds. We worked on it for three years. It's been selling out since being released.
Portfolio: You sold how many?
Bezos: You asked that so innocently, but you know I'm not going to answer. We have a long-standing practice of being very shy about disclosure, and I'll stick to that practice. The Kindle has substantially exceeded our expectations.
Portfolio: Every effort at e-books has failed. Why should this one work?
Bezos: We decided we were going to improve upon the book. And the first thing we did was try to determine the essential features of a physical book that we needed to replicate. The No. 1 feature is that it disappears. When you're in the middle of reading, you don’t notice the ink or the glue or the stitching or the paper — all of that disappears, and you're in the author's world. Most electronic devices today do not disappear. Some of them are extraordinarily rude. Books get out of the way, and they leave you in that state of mental flow.
Portfolio: How do you improve on that?
Bezos: We looked at things that physical books could never do. One of them is that you can look up any word that you're reading. It used to be that if I came across a word that I didn't know, I guessed from context. I'm astonished at what a bad guesser I am. Now that I’m looking up the words, I'm like, "Huh. Really?"
Portfolio: When you founded Amazon, how did you decide to sell books?
Bezos: I went to a catalogers association and started looking at product categories that do well by mail order: No. 1 was apparel, and gourmet food was very high. Way down on the list, like No. 20, was books. But there are more items in the book category than any other. We thought we could build a store with a complete selection. Big book superstores have about 150,000 titles. When Amazon launched in 1995, it had a million. With that kind of founding idea, we drove across the country.
Portfolio: You and your wife.
Bezos: My wife and I. She drove while I wrote the business plan. I wanted to incorporate the company before I got to Seattle. With internet usage growing 2,300 percent a year, dillydallying would have been a bad idea. I called my friend in Seattle and said, "Can you recommend a Seattle lawyer who can incorporate the company?" And he recommended his divorce attorney. Amazon was incorporated by a divorce attorney.
Portfolio: Are you always extremely methodical about major decisions?
Bezos: With business decisions, yes. With personal decisions, I find that my methodical nature can confuse me, and so I think more about personal decisions, like what job you really want to take or whom you want to marry. Although I did have criteria for that.
Portfolio: You had a list for a spouse?
Bezos: I kind of did. It was a short list. I wanted a woman who could get me out of a third-world prison. It was really just a visualization for resourcefulness, because people who are not resourceful drive me bananas.
Portfolio: What's a gut call you made?
Bezos: Amazon Prime. It's an all-you-can-eat buffet, $79, that gives you free two-day shipping on everything you buy for a year. When you do the math on that, it always tells you not to do it.
Portfolio: One of your big initiatives, a search engine called A9, fell flat. What happened?
Bezos: If you decide that you’re going to do only the things you know are going to work, you're going to leave a lot of opportunity on the table. Companies are rarely criticized for the things that they failed to try. But they are, many times, criticized for things they tried and failed at.
Portfolio: Did you ever get criticized for some thing you tried that worked out?
Bezos: When we pioneered customer reviews, it was incredibly controversial. I got letters from publishers saying, "You don't understand your business. You make money when you sell things. Take down those negative customer reviews." We’ve never done anything of real value that wasn't at least a little bit controversial when we did it. But if you want to be a pioneer, you have to be comfortable being misunderstood.
Portfolio: In 2007, Amazon had a phenomenal year. Revenue grew 38 percent—is that the right number?
Bezos: Yeah, something like that.
Portfolio: Aren't you supposed to know?
Bezos: I'm thinking a few years out. I've already forgotten those numbers.
Portfolio: OK. Well, talk about the past year, if you can. Why is Amazon still growing at that pace?
Bezos: Not only is the business growing; those rates are accelerating. There are a couple of factors driving that, all related to the big drivers of our business, which are selection, convenience, fast delivery, and low prices. Our international business is doing well.
Portfolio: What is Amazon's revenue split internationally?
Bezos: It's 55 percent in the U.S., 45 outside the U.S.
Portfolio: The music business is changing rapidly. What do you think is going to happen?
Bezos: Well, long term, it doesn't make sense for music to be distributed on physical media. That transition has been going on for seven years and probably will continue for a number of years.
Portfolio: Was Amazon late to the game in online music sales?
Bezos: Well, certainly, you know, there's a very big player in that space, and they’re doing very well.
Portfolio: And who would that be?
Bezos: I’m not sure. I forget. [Laughter] I have a list somewhere in my office. But we've worked for three years in ways that it's hard for outsiders to see. We didn’t want to launch a music service that wasn't based on the MP3 format. The iPod has such significant share. Otherwise, we would visualize the bullet points about our service, and we could have all these great points and then the last bullet point would have to be, "Oh, and it won't play on your iPod." So our patience has paid off in that regard. We now have a service that will play with any device.
Portfolio: Microsoft buying Yahoo—how would that impact Amazon?
Bezos: Oh, I have no idea.
Portfolio: How is the effort to lease your company's computing power and business capabilities to other companies going? We worked on our infrastructure Web services for four years. We launched our first one, the Simple Storage Service, two years ago, and I am astonished—I rarely hear about a startup company that isn't using our services. Now we're starting to get deployment inside corporate data centers. So it's very exciting.
Portfolio: Google recently announced that it's entering into that business and will give some of those same services away for free. What does that mean to you?
Bezos: We really do have a practice of not talking about other companies. But this, like our retail business, is not going to have one winner. There are going to be multiple winners pursuing different flavors or strategies, offering different kinds of products.
Portfolio: You’ve become a very wealthy man. What are you going to do with your money?
Bezos: Good question. I don't know. My parents are running the Bezos Family Foundation, and they're focused on education. I'm still focused on Amazon, but I have some ideas. I'll keep them to myself for now.
Portfolio:So you won't tell us?
Bezos: No.
1973: Bob Metcalfe of the Xerox Palo Alto Research Center writes a memo outlining how to connect the think tank's new personal computers to a shared printer. The memo puts forth the basic properties of -- and names -- ethernet.
Metcalfe had been an MIT undergraduate whiz kid and Harvard grad student working on computers and how to network them. Even before completing his Ph.D., he went to work for Xerox PARC, which assigned him the task of designing and building the first network for PCs.
PARC was installing its own Xerox Alto, the first personal computer, and EARS, the first laser printer. It needed a system that would allow additional PCs and printers to be added without having to reconfigure or shut down the network. It was the first time that computers were small enough for hundreds to be in the same building, and the network had to be fast to drive the printer.
Metcalfe circulated his plan in a memo titled "Alto Ethernet." It contained a rough schematic drawing and suggested using coaxial cable for the connections and using data packets like Hawaii's AlohaNet or the Defense Department's Arpanet. The system was up and running Nov. 11, 1973.
Metcalfe didn't base the name ethernet on the anesthetic that puts people to sleep. It refers instead to a discredited scientific theory of the luminiferous aether, an undifferentiated universal medium that some 18th- and 19th-century scientists thought necessary for the propagation of light. Metcalfe saw it as an apt metaphor for a medium that would propagate information.
Metcalfe shares four patents for ethernet. He and PARC colleague David Boggs published the concept in a 1976 paper, "Ethernet: Distributed Packet-Switching For LANs." That was the same year Metcalfe convinced Xerox, DEC and Intel -- the three funding companies -- to let ethernet become an open networking standard. It eventually supplanted competing technologies like IBM's Token Ring and General Motors' Token Bus to become the predominant standard for local-area networks.
Metcalfe went on to found 3Com ("computers, communication, compatibility") in 1979. He left after losing an internal power struggle in 1990 and became a widely read columnist for Info World. Today he's a general partner at the VC firm Polaris Ventures.
He's also known for Metcalfe's Law: The value of a network grows as the square of the number of its users.
Want to wish ethernet a Happy Birthday? Send this page to your office printer -- by ethernet, of course.
Source: "The Legend of Bob Metcalfe," Wired 6.11
Making moonshine has gone from a backwoods black art to a high-end hobby practiced by "whiskey geeks" with a taste for top-shelf hooch.
Unlike their bootlegging predecessors, who cooked up big batches of white lightning and distributed the illegal booze out of the backs of cars, today's moonshiners focus on quality rather than quantity.
"It took me years, but with practice and dedication you can make any spirit every bit as good as a commercial distiller," says Dave Robison, 42, owner of Pioneer Spirits, a single-batch distillery in Chico, California. "You might not be able to reproduce it exactly, but it will be as good as anything you can buy on the top shelf."
Home distillation of liquor used to be the province of backwoods bootleggers. Up until 1974, when the world price of sugar skyrocketed, commercial moonshiners throughout the Southeastern United States made enough money making hooch that it was worth the risk of getting caught by federal revenuers.
Today, making your own liquor is as illegal as ever, and a lot less lucrative. In fact, it's considerably cheaper to buy it off the shelf.
As a result, today's home distillers are quintessential do-it-yourselfers. Many are engineers and techies, much like the liquor connoisseurs who attend the Whiskies of the World Expo each year in San Francisco. "We have a whole audience that we refer to as the whiskey geek," event founder and organizer Riannon Walsh says. "I think 90 percent of them are techies."
John Spidell misses the moonshine tradition. A former federal revenuer, the 65-year-old spent the first half of the '70s "busting up" illegal stills in North Carolina. His job sometimes required living in a sleeping bag under a piece of canvas for weeks at a time, watching a big still, waiting for the owner to appear. Smaller stills got less attention.
"A five- or six-hundred-gallon outfit wasn't worth wasting time on," he says. "I'd go back to my vehicle, get the C4 explosives and blasting caps, and I'd blow it up. There were only so many of us, and only so much time."
Spidell was blowing up simple pot stills, which were used to distill mash made from sugar, water, yeast and hog "shorts" (corn feed for hogs). After it was fermented, the mash would go into the boiler, where it was heated.
Because alcohol boils at a lower temperature than water, the vapors that rose from the mash contained more alcohol than the mash itself. Those rising vapors traveled through an angled lyne arm to a condenser, traditionally made of copper coil. The condensed spirits were collected and redistilled until they reached a sufficient proof, then bottled in quart-size mason jars or gallon-size plastic milk jugs.
Bootleggers delivered the illicit liquor to "shot houses" in the cities on Wednesdays and Thursdays, ensuring they were stocked for the weekend.
Today's home distillers are more likely to build a small reflux still and hide it in the garage. Unlike a pot still, the vapors rise through a column packed with copper wool or another high-surface-area material before being directed into the condenser. A beer keg makes a good boiler, and a homemade column and condenser are within the reach of anyone with basic welding and soldering skills and access to copper pipe.
The packed column makes the reflux still more efficient than a pot still, so it produces a higher-proof spirit on the first distillation. Still, the average home distiller isn't making any money on the endeavor.
"People are trying to keep a tradition alive," Robison says. "They're not selling it. That's looked down on in the home distilling crowd. Most people I know aren't making more than a gallon at a time. Some people on the forum come from the moonshiner tradition, and we've learned a lot from them. But I've never met anyone who makes it for money."
Robison runs the popular Home Distiller forum with more than 2,000 registered users and 50,000 unique visitors per month. Other online home distilling resources include Smiley's Home Distilling and American Distiller.
Depending on the efficiency of the still, home-distilled alcohol can vary from 120 to 192 proof, or 60 percent to 96 percent pure alcohol.
The concept may be simple, but high-quality home-distilling isn't exactly easy. The moonshine tradition spawned a lot of misinformation, which Robison tries to rectify on the forum. First and foremost, he makes it clear that home distillation of liquor is illegal in all 50 states and just about every country, save New Zealand.
Besides being illicit, white lightning has earned a reputation for blinding and killing people who drink it. Many sources attribute these effects to methanol ("the heads"), which boils off naturally during an early stage of the distillation process.
"The heads will make you blind if you drink it, but I defy you to try to drink it," says microdistiller Michael Heavener, co-owner of Highball Distillery in Portland, Oregon. "If it doesn’t make you wince when you smell it, it's probably not going to make you go blind."
The real culprit in poison moonshine was usually radiators, according to Spidell. "Copper coils are not the most efficient condenser. If you're making 10,000 to 25,000 gallons at a time, you might immerse a truck radiator in the water. Chemicals in the moonshine leach out lead salts from the soldering. As a result of that, here comes the lead poisoning."
Made properly, home-distilled spirits are as safe to drink as any commercial liquor. Still, Heavener warns, "I'd be more concerned with the danger of explosions."
Most stills are heated with propane burners. Purified ethanol is highly flammable, and its clear blue flame can be difficult to see under certain conditions. Open flame plus high-proof alcohol equals one potentially explosive combination.
Even innocent mistakes -- such as using lead soldering or plastic parts in the still - can lead to serious consequences. So Robison encourages would-be home-distillers to do their homework first and make liquor later.
After all, he says, "This ain't stamp collecting."
: Though made for children, Japanese toy robots can catch the eye of even the most discriminating adults.
Iconic graphic designer Tom Geismar, whose firm Chermayeff & Geismar has created memorable logos for Mobil, PBS and other U.S. institutions, has been collecting the shiny bots for decades.
The Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame in Seattle will exhibit toys from Geismar's collection in Robots: A Designer's Collection of Miniature Mechanical Marvels through Oct. 26. The vintage robots on display reflect Geismar's trained eye. "I've really restricted myself to ones that appealed to me as interesting, imaginative designs," he says.
Left:
"I continue to find the straightforward and somewhat naïve appearance of the early toys to be most appealing," Geismar says of this vaguely Victorian robot.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: Geismar's fascination with robots began in 1970 while he was working on the U.S. pavilion for the World's Fair in Osaka, Japan. In local stores, he came across zinc die-cast figures like manufacturer Popy's Chogokin King Joe, based on a villain from the Ultra Seven show in the Ultraman series that aired in the late 1960s. "They were all made of metal and painted terrifically. And they were very imaginative," Geismar says. In those days, boxes often featured the names and pictures of the toys' designers. "Obviously they put a lot of effort and care into making these intricate things," he says, "but they were just in stores for kids to play with." The holes in each arm fire black, three-fingered claws and yellow missiles.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: This DX Tetsujin 28, literally Iron Man No. 28 in English, was based on the 1963 Japanese anime of the same name. Some of the episodes aired in the United States the next year, under the title Gigantor.
"This handsome form is one of my favorites," Geismar says. "As a designer, I tend to like things that are reasonably simple and clear, straightforward." Like many robots, it comes with a small model human, in this case the boy who controls the flying man by remote control in the cartoon.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: The Takara company's highly articulated Abitate T-10B, also called Blockhead, is a die-cast mecha based on a character from the 1981 Japanese series Fang of the Sun Dougram that never aired in the States. The models did reach U.S. shelves, however, and a smaller-scale version of this body armor, the T-10A, came in a box featuring the intriguing slogan, "We never approve your independence from our federation."
For Geismar, the most captivating thing about the models is the details, like Blockhead's menacing red hands. "When you go to a very different culture where you can't even read any of the signs, you see things in a very different way," he says. "You see it for what it looks like. Only later did I learn that most of the toys were representations of characters in popular Japanese films and television shows."
Find great scans of box art for the Sun Dougram series (and many others) at Alen Yen's ToyboxDX.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: Robot toys hit a peak of mainstream popularity when Hasbro introduced the Transformers, but the roots of those bots lie in designs like Popy's Chogokin DX Sun Vulcan Solar Combination from 1981. The transforming robot turns into the triangular Cosmo Vulcan jet and the stocky Bull Vulcan tank. In its humanoid form, the mecha carried a huge sword and shield, and tied into the TV show Solar Squadron Sun Vulcan.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: Another transformer, Popy's Chogokin Goggle V GB-76, turns into a yellow truck and was later reissued in the Etarnal [sic] Heroes Series. This bot's tie-in live-action show was part of the great three-decade lineage of Super Sentai TV series. Check out the Goggle V opening credits and learn from whence the Power Rangers came.
A collector of naïve figures from around the world before he came across robots, Geismar compares models like this to folk art. "In the World's Fair pavilion in Japan, there was a major exhibit of Native American masks, many from the Pacific Northwest. When we went to install them, the workers already knew them and they really related to them. They are very similar to a number of Japanese cultures' masks. I think, in a sense, there are masks involved with these robots. The mask behind a mask, or face within a face."
Photo: Richard Nichol
: Although they usually take a humanlike form, the Japanese robots can take any shape. Take, for instance, this Outer Space Spider. "Whether they were men or bugs or flying saucers or whatever they are," Geismar says, "there seemed to be very few creative barriers to the designers doing them."
Photo: Richard Nichol
: First starring in Forbidden Planet, Robby the Robot went on to appear in everything from a Columbo episode to Earth Girls Are Easy, becoming a popular and endlessly reproduced emblem of robotkind. Once wound up, this Action Planet Robot version of Robby takes clumsy steps and shoots sparks under the red mouth shield below its head grill.
Before the zinc mecha craze began in the 1970s and '80s, Japanese toy robots were simpler. Made of tin or plastic during the country's post-World War II industrialization, they were also more fragile.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: Some Japanese toy robots, like this one, remain anonymous.
"I would find robots like this in souvenir shops in Times Square," Geismar says. "Very simple windup or battery-operated mechanical men. They weren't based on stories and didn't have names. I always liked their sculptural quality."
Photo courtesy Experience Music Project/Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame
: The designs of early bots from the 1950s and '60s have been reinterpreted over the years with more sophisticated finishes. When switched on, this Horikawa Silver Astronaut, probably from the 1980s, walks forward, pausing every few steps to spin its torso with its green canons leveled at all attackers.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: It wouldn't be a robot collection without Mechagodzilla, the kaiju monster that aliens built to do battle with the real Godzilla in 1974. Released in 2003, this model comes loaded with features like pop-off knee missiles and an opening mouth and chest hatch.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: To wring as much profit as possible from their molds, model companies cast the same robots multiple times. Sometimes, as in the case of this Cosmobot, the molds would change hands and models would come out under other brands with only new names or slight differences of detail to distinguish them.
"They'd change the feet or change the color," Geismar says, "or just do anything to say it was a new one. You clearly recognize over many years the same molds with only slight variations." Thanks to a tread on his back, Cosmobot changes into a tank.
Photo: Richard Nichol
: The Golden Warrior Gold Lightan makes an unusual transformation: From the form of a classic robot warrior, it folds into a small cigarette lighter. Released in 1981 (when else?), it naturally had its own anime series.
"The funny thing about all these images," Geismar says, "is that when they're photographed like this you have no sense of the scale. That lighter is not more than 2-and-a-half inches high." In an effort to replicate the larger-than-life roles these toys have played in children's (and adults') minds over the years, the Science Fiction Museum will include giant enlargements as part of the exhibition.
Geismar approves. "They are scaleless in a sense," he says. "You want to make them human-size."
Photo courtesy Experience Music Project/Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame

Also on Portfolio
Hollywood's Spy-to-the-Stars Takes the Fall
Guitar Hero Now More Like Band Hero
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineWhen credit was easy, private equity's multibillion-dollar buyout frenzy was like a great party: The champagne was flowing and no one was too concerned about who was picking up the tab.
After the summer's credit crunch, the party ended. Some deals collapsed. One that may survive is the buyout of the radio-station chain Clear Channel Communications after the private equity buyers and six banks reached a settlement this week over $22 billion in financing.
In the sober light of today, are there lessons for dealmakers from Clear Channel?
Yes, lawyers say.
"We need to look at ways to get the financing lined up and locked in sooner—potentially right away, right after or before the merger agreement," says Marilyn Sonnie, a partner with the New York office of Jones Day, who advised Harman International on its failed buyout with Kohlberg Kravis Roberts & Co., which was terminated last August.
In the case of Clear Channel, the financing for the deal was memorialized in a May 2007 commitment letter that left open many terms, heading toward a closing.
By late fall and winter, those open terms, according to Clear Channel and the two private equity firms sponsoring the leveraged buyout, became an opportunity to inject "poisonous terms" to jettison the financing deal. Two lawsuits in New York and Texas followed.
Defending the lawsuits, the six banks, led by Deutsche Bank and Citigroup, were put in the bizarre position of arguing that their standard operating procedure—the use of a commitment letter to memorialize financing—could not be enforced.
The New York case sought to hold the banks to $22 billion in financing—"specific performance" in the legal jargon. In one deliciously schizophrenic line, the banks' motion seeking summary judgment dismissing the claims said: "The commitment letter is a binding preliminary agreement that left open numerous terms to be negotiated over time by the parties." It is Contracts 101 that an agreement with open terms is an illusory contract. Leaving the law aside, taken away from the litigation, the argument has the hint of commercial suicide for its relationships in the marketplace.
The banks were confident that they were going to win the summary judgment motion, but Justice Helen Freedman of the New York State Supreme Court said that the breach of contract claims could go to trial. But her opinion pretty much evenly divided the risks of going to trial between both sides. She described the plaintiffs' evidence that the defendants had threatened to refuse to finance the deal unless they agreed to "poisonous" terms as "not compelling."
The deal lawyers who read her May 7 opinion had one word for it: She wrote a "settlement document." It offset the early wins by Clear Channel in the Texas case, accusing the banks of "tortuous interference" with the merger agreement—a claim with potentially unlimited damages, filed in the state known for the landmark Pennzoil verdict. (Clear Channel even tapped Joe Jamail, who won the $11 billion Pennzoil case in 1985, as its lead counsel. For a peek at Jamail in action, watch this video.)
By Monday, May 12, Freedman's tactic seemed to have worked. Court was adjourned and CNBC's David Faber reported on a deal to settle the litigations. The next day at 2 p.m., the plaintiffs' first witness, John Connaughton, a managing director at Bain, took the stand and offered a rare glimpse into the private equity world, suggesting the banks were off the reservation, especially in changing language known in the industry as "sponsor precedent," lingo for "terms customer" in these deals.
The clean-cut Connaughton, whose youthful appearance does not show the stress of 19 years in private equity at Bain, was a strong witness on direct, and offered plain English translations of the language of private equity to Freeman with ease. (Even though he had not slept in two nights.) Connaughton would have returned to the stand Wednesday morning to testify that the banks had drawn a line in the sand, restricting use of loan proceeds to pay off Clear Channel's preexisting debts.
But that never happened. The $36-per-share deal, down from the original $39.20-per-share deal, signed late Tuesday night requires the banks and the buyers to put cash into an escrow account to fund the deal while Clear Channel seeks shareholder and regulatory approvals.
An escrow fund is probably an unrealistic option for obtaining certainty outside the context of litigation. But other aspects of the amended deal, as memorialized in an Securities and Exchange Commission filing by Clear Channel on Wednesday, could be adopted by other deals, to make sure they in fact close in a timely fashion. For instance, Clear Channel shareholders will get an increased price if the deal closes after the third quarter.
But lawyers predict the protracted battle will alter the way the players approach these deals in the future: "The way the litigation arose and was concluded will have implications regarding the way in which lenders and private equity firms structure the terms of the debt in future transactions and the way in which the parties—sellers, private equity buyers and lenders—will protect themselves from uncertainty until closing," says Michael Hefter, a securities lawyer with the New York office of Orrick.
But Elizabeth Nowicki, a corporate law professor at Tulane Law School, is not so sure how much things will really change. "A target now knows they need to get something more specific from a bank than a commitment letter," she says.
On the other hand, "the banks want no specific performance" from their end. "The question is whether we are going to see any change. I don't know if we are going to end up with documents or deals that are more clear. This case has highlighted that there is so much room for play and ambiguity and litigation."
It has been a long 18 months since the Clear Channel deal was announced, time in which its management and employees have been districted and its stock has inched down. "It's very hard to run a company and focus on making profits when you are in limbo," says Jones Day's Sonnie.
And Nowicki, for one, doesn't even think the saga is yet over.
"This deal may never close," she said.
1960: Physicist Theodore Maiman uses a synthetic-ruby crystal to create the first laser.
Maiman began tinkering with electronic devices in his teens and even earned college money repairing appliances and radios. He was working at the Hughes Research Laboratories of the Hughes Aircraft company in Malibu, California, when he built the first working laser.
The laser is a device that produces monochromatic (all the same wavelength), coherent (all the waves in phase) light. Today they're used in eye surgery, dentistry, range-finding, astronomical measurement, and welding and other manufacturing uses. You'll find them at the heart of scientific instruments, communications networks, weapons, music systems and supermarket scanners. Lasers are everywhere.
The concept was already bouncing around in the research world in 1960. Arthur L. Schawlow of Bell Labs and Charles H. Townes of Columbia University had written a 1958 paper and patent application proposing an optical version of the maser, or microwave amplification by stimulated emission of radiation.
Columbia grad student Gordon Gould jotted the idea in his notebook in 1957 and applied for a patent in 1959. He'd delayed because at first he thought he needed a working apparatus to apply. But it was Gould who coined the word laser.
Maiman made his own alterations to the Schawlow-Townes concept. He coated the ends of a ruby with silver mirrors, one coating thinner to let some light escape as a beam. He used a flash tube to energize the crystal's atoms. Maiman enclosed the whole shebang in a polished aluminum tube.
Schawlow and the Bell researchers heard of Maiman's realization of their concept with mixed emotions, but they soon bested him by using an arc lamp to produce a continuous, rather than pulse, laser.
Bell got its patent in 1960. Maiman applied for a patent for "Ruby Laser Systems" in 1961, but didn't receive it until 1967. Gould spent decades mired in lawsuits before winning some patents in 1977.
The 1964 Nobel Prize in Physics went to Townes for the laser and Soviets Nicolay Basov and Aleksandr Prokhorov for their earlier work on the maser. Schawlow was acknowledged in the 1964 presentation speech and went on to share the 1981 Nobel Prize in Physics for his "contribution to the development of laser spectroscopy."
Maiman was nominated twice for the Nobel Prize, but did not win it. He received many other awards before his death in 2007 at age 79.
Source: Scientific American
: Lasers are like your favorite uncle who can do no wrong. You know, the one who's always hip to the latest technology, does amazing magic tricks at all the family dinners, always photographs well, and has more than once saved baby Med-Tech from a burning house of boring. All the other technologies wish they were he, and Wired.com readers openly admit he's their favorite.
So in celebration of one of our greatest news topics here at Wired.com, we've selected a compilation of the best recent laser appearances on our site. Thanks for the memories, Big L. (Have your own favorite laser news item? Let us know in the comments.)
Left:
Texans Build World's Most Powerful Laser
Scientists have switched on the world's most powerful laser, which for one-trillionth of a second is 2,000 times more powerful than all the power plants in the United States. The laser's output tops a petawatt, which is a quadrillion (1,000,000,000,000,000) watts of power.
Photo: Courtesy Mikael Martinez and Texas Petawatt Project, led by Todd Ditmire
: (Continued from previous slide)
The power of a laser, its output in watts, is determined by the energy of the laser pulse, measured in joules, divided by its duration, measured in seconds (tiny fractions of a second in this case). So, to get high power, you can either turn up the energy or cram the same amount of energy into a shorter duration pulse -- or do both. The problem is that turning up the energy makes it more difficult to get short pulses.
The solution to this problem requires an almost Rube Goldberg setup inside a 1,500-square-foot clean room. The most powerful laser in the world starts, poetically enough, with a "seed laser" that puts out a wimpy nanojoule of energy for a couple of hundred femtoseconds (that's 10-15 seconds). It must be run through a series of amplifiers, compressors and stretchers before it can recreate the conditions inside the sun for a trillionth of a second.
Photo: Courtesy Mikael Martinez and Texas Petawatt Project, led by Todd Ditmire
: Beamz Music System Lets You Compose a Symphony With the Power of Freaking Lasers
If Dr. Evil of Austin Powers fame were more musically minded, he may have demanded something like the beamz -- a musical instrument with "fricking lasers" attached to it. This large USB peripheral includes six laser beams that, when broken, activate elements of 30 songs stored on your computer.
: Laser-Etched QR Codes: Digital Graffiti For Gadgets
Forget stickers. Real geeks show their commitment with something more permanent: laser engraving. And Jason Fields takes your etching and raises you one QR code. Sure, it's too big for most little QR readers to handle, and the gray on gray isn't exactly contrasty, but Jason has squeezed in his "e-mail signature file, postal address, with links to my blog and twitter pages as well."
: The Geekiest Van Conversion Ever
This is the Tele Atlas map machine, a Toyota van tricked out with tens of thousands of dollars worth of cameras, laser range detectors and global-positioning hardware. The laser sensors on the back (the devices labeled SICK) are used to determine the height of overpasses and buildings to help delivery vehicles find the route with the most overhead clearance.
Photo: Michael Calore/Wired.com
: The Ultrashort Pulse Laser in Action
Raydiance, a startup company in Petaluma, California, has developed a laser it says can cleanly cut just about any material you can think of -- from human skin to glass -- without throwing off heat or damaging the surface.
This glass slide is seconds away from being ablated by the Raydiance USP laser.
Photo: Jonathan Snyder/Wired.com
:
A new patent granted to Lockheed Martin seeks to combine multiple lasers into a single, higher-power beam, which would, in theory, help achieve the power output needed for laser weapons. The patent outlines a method to "combine multiple laser beams into a single coherent beam without requiring insertion of optical elements into the laser beam."
: This Laser Trick's a Quantum Leap
Ph.D. student Elliot Fraval (left) and Dr. Jevon Longdel perform scientific measurements on light in the lab at Laser Physics Centre at Australian National University.
Photo: Tim Wetherell
: Navy Pushing Laser 'Holy Grail' to Weapons Grade
For decades, scientists have been slowly working on a laser that never runs out of shots -- and can be "tuned" to blast through the air, at just the right wavelength. For most of that time, all they could get was a laser at light-bulb strength. But researchers at the Thomas Jefferson National Accelerator Facility finally managed in 2004 to assemble a "Free Electron Laser," or FEL, that could generate 10,000 watts of power.
Now the Navy has started an effort to design and build a new FEL, 10 times as strong. That would bring the laser up to 100 kilowatts -- what's considered the minimum threshold for weapons grade. But it would also be just a steppingstone on the way to an energy weapon as powerful as any produced. If ray gun researchers can get the thing to work, that is.
: Stupid Laser Tricks: Make Your Own Piece of Jesus-Miracle Toast
They can do everything from nuclear fusion to vaginal rejuvenation, so you know it's a mathematical certainty that lasers = awesome. Plus, your right to tinker with dirt-cheap lasers in your basement is all but guaranteed in the Constitution! With that in mind, here are a few of our favorite DIY laser hacks. (Disclaimer: If you are foolhardy enough to try any of these and end up maiming yourself or getting sucked into the Tron game grid, something else was probably going to remove you from the gene pool soon anyway.)
Photo: Gene Lee
: Laser-Guided Saw: Cool Tool or Novelty Toy?
It might not cut as effectively as a lightsaber, or even a real laser cutter, but at least your lines will be (theoretically) straight.
At $20, though, it's probably too cheap to actually do its job. If you've ever used a cheap saw you know that the blade will flex and buck, leaving your supposedly neat cut looking about as straight as Earring Magic Ken. And the laser doesn't even come with a battery. We say: Avoid. You'll get a better result with an old popsicle stick.
: DIY Laser Lightshow for $80: Useless but Awesome
What's cooler than a green laser? A green laser that paints semirandom moving spirograph patterns on your wall. Toronto-based hardware hacker Artur Petrovskyy shows you how to make one of your own from about $80 in parts in a new how-to on Instructables.com: Laser show for poor man.
Image: Instructables.com
CNET staffers are joking that CBS bought their company purely for the coveted News.com domain name. But nobody is complaining about the windfall.
"The scuttlebutt … around here is that News.com will be used for CBS' News operations and that our News.com will end up being a tab off that page," said one staffer, who asked not to be identified.
It's inconceivable that CBS paid a staggering $1.8 billion just for a domain name, but nonetheless, most of the reporters at News.com -- the tech news division of CNET -- are expecting that CBS will take the domain name for its own news operation, the staffer said.
"It does seem clear we will lose our domain name," the staffer said. "At least we have a parent that's solid and has some money -- and isn't News Corp."
Once the highflier of online media, CNET has recently been rocked by stock option scandals, hostile takeover attempts, layoffs and staff attrition. Skeleton crews run many departments and morale is low.
While CBS is seen as stodgy, the company is stable and has a solid reputation for supporting the expensive business of news.
Delighted rank and file are busy trying to tabulate the worth of their shares, which they've been told will all vest immediately.
CBS paid a premium $11.50 per share for CNET, a 44-percent premium above CNET's closing price yesterday.
"We feel it's pretty good news, and we're all pretty happy," said another employee at CNET who also asked not to be named. "It was a good price, and we're all going to make a bit of money off of it."
None of the staffers have yet been told CBS's plans but a company-wide meeting is scheduled for next Tuesday, they said.
"Me personally, my initial reaction was 'Oh, fuck, corporate media is getting to us.'" said one CNET designer, who also asked not to be identified. "Every channel of communication in this country is owned by five or six companies, and we're joining that group … I just don't know if there's a way around that anymore."
But the designer said, generally, the staff welcomed the acquisition.
"The general feeling in the small talk going around is that this is a positive development," the designer said. "We're finally going to have some money behind us, because CNET has been hurting for the last couple of months. The first two quarters have been kind of hard, so I think this comes as good news, because obviously CBS is a big company that has a lot of capital."
"The mood is light. People are upbeat about it," said one staffer. "There's no worrying or anything. I think people think it's a good thing overall for the company."
1796: Edward Jenner inoculates a boy with cowpox. After the lad recovers from the infection, Jenner inoculates him with smallpox, but the boy remains healthy. Vaccination is born.
Before Jenner, smallpox was a massive scourge and a leading cause of death, especially among children. Those whom it didn't kill it disfigured with pockmarked faces.
Some European families adopted the Turkish practice of inoculating their children with low doses of smallpox in hopes of building up their immunity to the disease. This was popularized in England by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, who had her own child inoculated. The Royal family, freshly arrived from the Kingdom of Hanover in Germany, inoculated two of the Princess of Wales' children in 1723 to secure the succession. (Ironically, the Hanovers had come to the throne of Great Britain because so many Stuart and Orange heirs had succumbed to smallpox.) But the process was risky.
Jenner had heard the folk wisdom that milkmaids and others who contracted the mild and harmless cowpox through their proximity to cattle did not fall victim to the deadly smallpox. He inoculated his year-and-a-half-old son in 1789 with swine pox (a related pig disease) and then smallpox. The boy did not contract smallpox.
The dramatic 1796 experiment used fluid taken from a cowpox sore on milkmaid Sarah Nelmes. The experimental subject was 8-year-old James Phipps, who did not get smallpox despite Jenner's repeated attempts to infect him starting July 1. Ethicists debate whether such an experiment would be at all possible today.
Jenner carried out further experiments on patients and was likewise unable to infect them with smallpox if he had vaccinated them or they had contracted cowpox naturally. He published the results of 23 cases in a 1798 monograph, An inquiry into the causes and effects of the Variolae Vaccinae, a disease discovered in some of the western counties of England, particularly Gloucestershire, and known by the name of the cow-pox.
Jenner wrote several revisions of this work as he added cases, and other researchers soon replicated his work. He called the process vaccination after the Latin word for cow, vacca. He also introduced the word virus.
Vaccination caught on quickly, but more than a century passed before scientists isolated and understood the viruses involved. After a global vaccination campaign, the World Health Organization declared smallpox eradicated in 1979.
(Source: Thomas Cooper Library, University of South Carolina)
I love internet cafes. Given that my job requires hours of sitting and typing, sitting and drawing, or sitting and procrastinating, a change of scenery is welcome, allowing me to be around people without actually having to interact with them, listen to them or acknowledge their existence beyond sharing a power outlet. To me, a cafe is like a large desktop image that dispenses caffeinated beverages and scones.
However, as any science-fiction writer can tell you, with any new technology come new problems and new sex acts. I haven't gotten to the sex act part yet, but the problem is quite apparent: What do I do with my laptop when I have to use the bathroom?
Alt Text Podcast
Download audio files and subscribe to the Alt Text podcast.
Solution 1: Leave it there on the table
Yeah, great idea. I'll just throw my credit cards and loose change on the table, too, maybe carve my Social Security number and bank password into the wood to maximize the convenience of anyone who wants to ruin my life.
Solution 2: Ask the person next to me to keep an eye it
It's not that I think the guy next to me is going to steal my laptop -- he's already got one, and his is generally nicer -- it's just that I don't think he's going to do a damn thing if a desperate-looking hood and/or thug walks right up and grabs my iBook. Hell, if he's like me, he won't even notice. If I were the sort of person who paid attention to his surroundings, I wouldn't be bringing a laptop into public spaces.
Solution 3: Bring it in with me
The easiest thing would be just to tuck it under my arm and head to the head. And yet ... I feel like that raises questions. "Why is he bringing a laptop into the bathroom? Has he been overwhelmed by the erotic power of superheroine porn? Is this some sort of sick YouTube stunt? Who said he could do that? Why won't somebody stop him?" I don't trust people to say one word if a pod of roving computer thieves leaps from a running van and grabs my laptop, but I'm sure someone will tackle me at the knees to prevent me from carrying it into the john.
Solution 4: Bring everything in with me
OK, this doesn't even make sense to me, but here's what I often do: I put my laptop back into my satchel, put my iPod back into my coat and bring my entire life with me into the bathroom. I don't know why I feel this is more socially acceptable. What do I want them to think is in there? A makeup case? A wide selection of hygiene products? Maybe I'm trying to fool them into thinking I'm just stopping by the men's room on the way out. If so, it works, because I generally come back to find my coffee cup in the bus bin and my seat taken.
Solution 5: Lock the thing up
I haven't tried this, but it would be the very avatar of simplicity to get one of those laptop locks and attach my laptop to the table or chair. I'm reluctant, though, because I don't want to come across as one of those twitchy people who obsess about extremely unlikely crimes and devise elaborate schemes to foil largely fictional criminals. However, looking back over this, I guess I am one of those people. I should probably just blog from an underground bunker in rural Montana, pausing every three paragraphs to re-oil my shotgun. I'd probably get more work done.
- - -
Born helpless, nude and unable to provide for himself, Lore Sjöberg eventually overcame these handicaps to become a Beat poet, a beatboxer and a beat frequency.
: Electric and alternative-fuel bikes are the future of individual transportation not because of their fuel efficiency but because they are extremely cool. That's right. Creators of eco-friendly motorcycles are pushing the limits of their designs to make them desirable to a biking community that sees little difference between their (relatively) efficient gas engines and the new-fuel wave of alternatives. Riding bikes is all about the cool factor, so the crazier and more technologically advanced they get, the more people will want to ride them, clean fuel or not.
Gaze upon the alt-fuel bikes most likely to break the mold of motorcycle design in the near future.
Left: The ENV Fuel Cell Bike
Intelligent Energy's ENV Bike is on track to become the first available hydrogen-powered motorcycle when it's released next year. The zero-cylinder ENV runs on a removable fuel cell (stored where a conventional gas tank would be) and runs peacefully quiet. The fuel cell uses a proton-exchange membrane that pushes a full 6 kilowatts of peak-load power, resulting in a nice high torque. And one hydrogen tank will last about four hours without a charge, or about 100 miles.
The ENV is also supposed to offer a fairly gentle ride, since power is distributed evenly through a single gear, avoiding the regular gear-induced kickback of a gas bike. But the best part is that instead of CO2, the bike emits water. Not so pure that you could bend backwards for a little midride drink, but better than adding to the global carbon load.
: Technically, a tesseract is a four-dimensional analogue of a cube. To us, it's a bike design that looks just a like a Praying Mantis Predacon Transformer come to life.
Yamaha's Tesseract is a four-wheeled motorcycle powered with a liquid-cooled V-twin engine and an electric motor. It's designed with a dual-scythe suspension for slick turns, allowing the wheels to adapt individually to uneven, rocky terrain independently of one another.
Similarly to other new-wave, multiwheeled green bikes, the body is built up instead of out, so that the body width is more equivalent to regular-size bikes. That leads to above-average handling and stability. Add the thin-but-durable body frame and expect to ride this one fast. Just don't wait up for it -- it won't come out until after 2010.
: This is a superhero's bike. Suzuki's slick Crosscage prototype uses a fuel-cell block developed by Intelligent Energy, which creates power from hydrogen gas. According to IE, its fuel designs are based on thin metallic bipolar plates and make the fuel block small, compact and cheaper to produce. To the lay reader, this means that it's more likely to come out sooner rather than later. With blue neon V-shaped flares on its rims -- and a look that the Silver Surfer would envy -- PEM fuel cells and lithium-ion batteries are just icing on the cake.
: If you drain your wallet every week at the pump, the relief promised by Yamaha's FC-Dii fuel-cell prototype bike will be as refreshing as the water it runs on. Well, partially.
The FC-Dii, available for ogling at the 2007 Tokyo Motor Show, runs on a methanol-fuel-and-water build, with a new type of cell stack that promises the "highest levels of power density in the 1-kilowatt class." It also features a detachable lithium-ion battery for recharging, and a model 30 percent efficiency standard for a direct-methanol-fuel-cell system. Plus, you can look into the insides of the bike's cellblock, and that's just too future-cool for us.
: The design of the Enertia electric motorcycle from Brammo smartly resembles the classic lines of the 1961 Triumph TR6 Trophy Bird from the movie The Great Escape. And what's more fantastic than the thrill of Steve McQueen racing away from the Nazis? Nothing.
The Enertia uses lithium-ion phosphate batteries with power settings that let the user trade off performance for range. At 12 to 25 horsepower (19 kilowatts) in its "performance" mode, it's on the same power level as the Kawasaki Ninja 250 gas bike (though its speed tops out at 50 mph).
Better still, the carbon-fiber chassis enables lightweight maneuverability, and its six lithium-phosphate batteries reduce its emissions footprint to close to zero. If you live in a small city, you won't find a more viable commuting vehicle. McQueen would have plugged it in himself.
: The Killacycle is the fastest electric drag bike in the world. Unfortunately, its name almost became a self-fulfilling prophecy at Wired's NextFest conference last September. During the conference, owner Bill Dube crashed into a minivan while attempting a burnout on a narrow sidewalk.
The inventor had barely ridden the beast before but knew the massive stats: 0-to-60 in 0.97 seconds, 400 horsepower, and a top speed of 158 mph. The bike's 619 pounds (100 pounds more than regular bikes) make it difficult for a rookie rider to maneuver safely. Dube ended up in the hospital with a few body nicks. Afterwards, he came out with his head high and -- believe it -- promised to push his machine to even greater speeds. Currently, his team is working on a 1,000-horsepower drag bike that will attempt to break the land speed record on salt.
: The VentureOne looks like a car and is legally classified as a three-wheel motorcycle, but -- copy Blue Leader! It looks just like a Tron Light Cycle come to life. Carver Europe's VentureOne superbike features an automatic balancing system that stabilizes the body and allows it to tilt into a turn like a motorcycle without fear of wipeout.
The bike is scheduled to come out in hybrid build (with a 350-mile range) and two all-electric propulsion models (up to 125 miles). It'll cost between $20,000 and $30,000 and will include GPS navigation and an entertainment system to provide as much distraction as possible.
We think this car-bike mashup could push out its identity crisis and make a name for itself, and we can't wait to (legally) race our Venture Ones out on the grid.
: The Piaggio Vespa scooter is as intrinsically connected to the Italian experience as cannoli from Mozzicato's. Now, the Vespas are growing with the times by introducing the lithium-ion-battery-powered Vespa M3 Hybrid. With a 125-cc engine, the M3 will ride just like any other Vespa but will latch on tighter to the pavement with the addition of the third wheel. The added rubber won't extend the width of the scooter -- in fact, the wheelbase at the front is still narrow enough to maneuver tightly, just like the classic.
The M3 has four different performance modes at the flip of a switch: all-electric, low-charge hybrid, high-charge hybrid and standard hybrid. In its all-electric mode, the hybrid turns off the combustion and becomes beautifully silent. But this is sadly lame: At electric-only power, it's supposed to last only 12 miles. The other options push the scooter to a more city-friendly range of 25 to 50 miles on a full charge.
: A hybrid motorcycle can't promise the same raw power and performance as a V-Twin Harley, can it? That would be like the Hell Angels going green and Al Gore becoming cool. Well, it's about to happen.
The Gen-Ryu Hybrid bike is the future eco-friendly Harley, with a lightweight 600-cc engine and a high-output, high-efficiency electric motor. And it has awesome features you will not find in a regular hog: noise-canceling system to reduce wind noise, voice-navigation function and hands-free music player and cellphone. Plus, it'll have our favorite feature from recent smart cars -- the rear-view monitoring camera to make sure you can fit in those ridiculously tight urban parking spots.
The prototype includes a cornering light system that makes it easy to see around curves at night. The balance will prevent you from popping a wheelie in the street, but the wide-ish tires will give you a comfortable, smooth ride -- perfect for the trip from the dusty fields into the nanotech-laced asphalt of the future San Angeles.
: The Silence PT2 is another car-bike tweener. The electric-powered PT2 has a range of 125 to 250 miles and a high speed of 125 mph due to its smallish size at only 13 feet long, 6 feet wide and 900 pounds. That's about one-third of the 2008 Mini Cooper Clubman S, and 400 pounds lighter than the minimum weight of an F1.
As the wild child from the unholy union of a Go Kart-making company and another that built high-speed three-wheelers, there's a childlike sense of fun in this design. With a wide-open top frame, large front wheels sticking close to the ground, and an aerodynamic front screen to cut the wind, you could easily place it on the track next to Racer X, and it would feel at home. Just wear a helmet.
The Silence PT2 is scheduled to be available in early 2009 for close to $50,000.
: Industrial designer Sam Jilbert hit upon a great concept while creating his final-year project at Britain's Northumbria University: Take a past success, tweak it for the present, and fill it with technology from the near future. Voilà! A new design for us to drool over.
The Honda Cub Concept updates the 50-year-old (and 50 million-selling) Honda Super Cub by adding a hydrogen-fuel-cell case. The resulting design resembles a giant LifeSaver mixed with a collapsible bike. Though Honda hasn't endorsed it, its concept has sparked many consumers' imaginations, which could eventually land it on city streets. Like other fuel cell-based bikes, expect to sacrifice a high torque for a slim riding range -- probably close to 50 miles at first.
: The Vectrix is the first commercially available electric bike on the market designed like a mullet in reverse: all business in the back and party on the front. The nickel-metal hydrate, battery-charged engine sits in the back of the bike for controlled, efficient acceleration, and the front resembles the angular shape of a ravenous one-eyed wasp. That's hot.
It's expensive at $13,000, but it'll save you money on the back end: It takes three hours to charge the bike fully (at about 1 cent per mile), and has a 40-to-50-mile range at 25 mph. There's also no clutch and no transmission, forcing down the maintenance fees. But it's the ingenious regenerative breaking system that rounds it out: Twist the throttle in a radial backwards motion and the bike will slow down, while cooling and charging the engine at the same time.
Five hours into their assault on West Point, the hackers got serious.
The SQL [structured query language] inserts that came earlier were just pablum intended to lull the Army cadets into a false sense of security. But then the bad guys unleashed a stealthy kernel-level rootkit that burrowed into one workstation, started scraping data and "calling home."
It was a highly sophisticated attack, but this time the bad guys were really good guys in wolves' clothing.
For four days in late April, the National Security Agency -- the nation's most secretive repository of spooks, snoops and electronic eavesdroppers -- directed coordinated assaults on custom-built networks at seven of the nation's military academies, including West Point, the Army university 50 miles north of New York City.
It was all part of the seventh annual Cyber Defense Exercise, a training event for future military IT specialists. The exercise offered a rare window into the NSA's toolkit for infiltrating, corrupting or destroying computer networks.
The 34 Army cadets comprising the West Point IT team operated in a different kind of battlefield, but their combat skills and instincts need to be every bit as sharp. Like George Washington said: "There is nothing so likely to produce peace as to be well prepared to meet the enemy."
The SQL injections, targeting their Fedora Core 8 Web server, were a piece of cake for these IT combatants. Each injection tried to smuggle malicious code inside the seemingly harmless language used by the network’s MySQL software. The cadets handily defended with open source Apache web server modules, plus some manual tweaking of the SQL database to "avoid any surprises," in the words of Lt Col. Joe Adams, a West Point instructor who helped coach the team.
But the kernel-level rootkit was much more dangerous. This stealthy operating-system hijacker can open unseen "back doors" into even highly protected networks. When they detected the rootkit's "calls home" the cadets launched Sysinternal's security software to find the hijacker, then they manually scoured the workstation to find the unwelcome executable file.
Then they terminated it. With extreme prejudice.
"This was probably the most challenging part of the exercise, since it required them to use some advanced techniques to find the rootkit," Adams says. And rooting it out helped boost the West Point team to the top of the pile when, in the aftermath of the exercise, the referees rated all the universities' network defenses.
For the second year in a row, the Army placed first over the Navy, Air Force, Coast Guard and others, winning geek bragging rights and the privilege of holding onto a gaudy, 60-pound brass trophy festooned with bald eagles and American flags. Adams credits the team’s thorough preparation and their excellent teamwork despite the round-the-clock schedule.
At the network control room on the second floor of West Point’s 200-year-old engineering building (which once was an indoor horse corral and still smells like it in some remote corners, according to one instructor), the IT team set up cots and, just for the hell of it, camouflaged netting. They worked in shifts, with one team member always monitoring incoming and outgoing traffic. He or she would alert other cadets -- "router guys" -- to block any suspicious addresses. Meanwhile, off-shift cadets would make food and coffee runs to keep everyone fueled up and alert. Together, the team was "faster than anyone else," Adams says.
But the way the cadets designed their network was a big factor in their victory, too. The NSA dictated some terms: All networks had to be capable of e-mail, chat and other services and had to be up and running at all times despite any attacks or defensive measures. Beyond that, the teams were free to come up with their own designs.
West Point's took three weeks to build. The cadets settled on a fairly standard Linux and FreeBSD-based network with advanced routing techniques for steering incoming traffic in directions of the IT team's choosing.
The choices in software tools for responding to any attack really boiled down to "automatic" versus "custom," says Eric Dean, a civilian programmer and instructor. He adds that while automatic tools that do most of their own work are certainly easier, custom tools that allow more manual tweaking are more effective. "I expect one of the 'lessons learned' will be the use of custom tools instead of automatics."
Even with a solid network design and passable software choices, there was an element of intuitiveness required to defend against the NSA, especially once it became clear the agency was using minor, and perhaps somewhat obvious, attacks to screen for sneakier, more serious ones.
"One of the challenges was when they see a scan, deciding if this is it, or if it’s a cover," says Dean. Spotting "cover" attacks meant thinking like the NSA -- something Dean says the cadets did quite well. "I was surprised at their creativity."
Legal limitations were a surprising obstacle to a realistic exercise. Ideally, the teams would be allowed to attack other schools' networks while also defending their own. But only the NSA, with its arsenal of waivers, loopholes, special authorizations (and heaven knows what else) is allowed to take down a U.S. network.
And despite the relative sophistication of the NSA's assaults, the agency told Wired.com that it had tailored its attacks to be just "a little too hard for the strongest undergraduate team to deal with, so that we could distinguish the strongest teams from the weaker ones."
In other words, grasshopper, nice work -- but the NSA is capable of much craftier network take-downs.

Also on Portfolio
Dove: We Didn't Airbrush our 'Real Beauties'
TV Networks Scale Back on Once-Lavish Ad-Sales Fetes
The $1.7 Million Car of Your Auto Erotic Dreams
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineFrom way over in Indonesia, Microsoft chairman Bill Gates let it be known that Microsoft never needed to buy Yahoo to make headway in search and advertising. It just kind of wanted to.
"We have always felt we could do very well on our own and now that's the path we are focused on," Gates told AP in Jakarta on Friday. "The standard strategy for us is to just hire great engineers and surprise people at how well we can compete, even with a company that's got a strong lead."
Actually, that may be the first bit of sense out of Microsoft since the Yahoo thing first emerged. That is exactly what Microsoft is good at: identifying market leaders in interesting new tech markets, then systematically destroying them. In fact, Microsoft is probably better at it than maybe any company in history. Netscape, Lotus, WordPerfect, Novell, Real Networks ... there's a long list of companies that invented something that Microsoft then copied and took down. And Windows, of course, was a copy of what Apple and Xerox were doing. Now Microsoft's Zune is taking aim at the iPod.
Microsoft is at its best when it does this. It spends billions of dollars a year on Microsoft Research, but has yet to invent an entirely new business. (Microsoft did once get out in front of a tech development, creating travel site Expedia early on. So surprised was Microsoft that it did this, the company soon thereafter spun out Expedia -- perhaps so Expedia would not contaminate the Microsoft culture with actual market innovation.)
The thing is, though -- search so far is looking like Microsoft's Waterloo. Yeah, it's won every big battle so far, but Microsoft has spent vast amounts of time and money trying to crack search -- and so far has failed. Can it beat Google at Google's own game? That seems unlikely. Can it outwit Google and create an innovative new version of search that Google never thought of? That would be very un-Microsoftian.
So ... now what?
No matter how beautiful the sex animations are in your favorite virtual playground, they can't compete with the movement of your own body.
How soon will we be slipping gracefully into motion-capture suits or using 3-D cameras to capture those uniquely natural moves and engage our entire bodies in online sexual adventures, rather than limping along with keyboard and mouse? Sooner than you might think.
Kevin Alderman, who's already infamous for the sex animations his company Strokerz Toyz creates for Second Life, is developing a wireless, consumer-level motion-capture suit that's expected to hit shelves in 2009.
"Right now only a dozen or so sites on the web offer downloadable mocap files," Alderman says. "You have to wait until some studio becomes benevolent enough to make the animations you want, or you have to engage them for your specific needs."
Personal motion-capture suits will enable residents to contribute sex animations to the world of their choice -- and to develop scenarios tailored to their own deepest desires, especially if they team up with others who also have the suits. It's the bridge between today's expensive studio mocap and the real-time avatar control of tomorrow.
Meanwhile, technologists Mitch Kapor and Philippe Bossut have developed a less exotic, yet more familiar, prototype for hands-free interaction in virtual worlds: They're using a 3-D camera to track body movements, which are in turn translated and used to control avatars in Second Life.
These new technologies won't instantly set off the "ZOMG it's sex!" media alarms the way Bluetooth-to-sex-toy interfaces do. These developers can position themselves as facilitators of dancing and flying and walking around, creators of new input devices rather than instigators of a whole new level of cybersex.
But you can be sure we'll adapt whatever they come up with to our own erotic purposes. I would gladly put up with a few technical glitches for the chance to play with home mocap systems and virtual worlds.
Traditionally, home motion-capture animation has been financially out of reach for most geeks, costing about a half-million dollars for a studio setup -- a big room, multiple cameras to capture all the angles, the spandex suit with the white pingpong balls, the software that calculates the movement of those points through space and maps it to a digital figure.
However, Rick Hall, production director at the Florida Interactive Entertainment Academy at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, sees "a trend to move away from big external optical systems" like the mocap setups used for movies and game development. Hall suggests that MMORGs will most likely provide the first venues for real-time mocap.
"Picture the more sedate scenes like in a bar, or dance clubs," he says. "That could be an interesting application, putting on a little virtual-reality mocap suit and dancing."
Ask hard-core game developers about the limitations of using real-time motion capture devices to control your avatar and they'll remind you that your living room is a finite space. Even if you could strap on the motion sensors and use your body to maneuver your digital alter ego, you can't do much flying, climbing or fighting without hitting a wall.
"You can swing a baseball bat or kick a football, but you can't go dive, can't run, can't explore a cave," Hall says. "We're always going to have this problem. Duplicating the Holodeck on the Enterprise sounds nice, but when they turn the screen off, it's just a big room.... It's not limited by (mocap) technology but by the walls in your house."
With virtual sex, that's not such a problem. Sometimes what you want to do in a virtual world takes up no more physical space than a sleeping bag. And sometimes you actually need a wall. Where else would you secure the tie-downs?
"I'm not sure I want to go there," Hall says. (That's OK. Everybody has a day job.)
Strokerz Toyz's Alderman wants to go all the way there. While the world waits for his $10,000 home mocap suit, he's launching a mocap studio, StroCap, that focuses on mature content.
"We are soliciting (Second Life) residents to tell us what they want to see in adult motion capture," Alderman says. "More realistic caresses? More erotic dances? More action?"
With StroCap's offerings and the inevitable use of home mocap suits and 3-D cams to control avatars, people who want to express themselves sexually in a virtual world -- but can't draw or animate -- will still be able to translate their own desires and preferences into in-world animations.
Gradually, our avatars will begin to mirror the way our bodies actually move, which could have an interesting effect on the gender play virtual worlds are so keen on. If we get it right, we'll become at least 50 percent more attractive to other residents, according to a collaborative study conducted last year at Texas A&M University and New York University.
People are more than ready to replace keyboards and controllers with more holistic interfaces. Look at the demand for Wii Fit, even though nothing prevents us from popping in an exercise video or walking the dog.
As for the lag that can still be a problem in virtual worlds, well, you wouldn't have expected people to use webcams night after night over their 14,400-baud modems, and yet we did, somehow.
My first real-time mocap action will be to kiss whoever develops the system I use.
See you in a fortnight,
Regina Lynn
- - -
Regina Lynn invites you to move her at reginalynn.com.
1941: British destroyers capture a German submarine, U-110, south of Iceland. The British remove a naval version of the highly secret cipher machine known to the Allies as Enigma, and then they let the boat sink -- to keep the fact of their boarding secret.
The Enigma machine, used by the Kriegsmarine to encode and decode messages passing between shore command and ships at sea, was taken to Bletchley Park in England, where cryptographers including computer pioneer Alan Turing succeeded in breaking the naval code. The Germans, assuming U-110 had foundered with her secrets intact, failed to realize that their code was broken. The subsequent information passing before British eyes helped the Allies enormously in the Battle of the Atlantic.
Several versions of the Enigma machine existed, but the working principle -- a rotor system activated using a keyboard -- was the same. The machine itself had been around since the early 1920s and was used by other nations, too, although it is most closely associated with Nazi Germany.
The Enigma used by the German army was decrypted as early as 1932 by Polish cryptographers, who later passed their methodology along to the British and French. In light of subsequent events (the Germans drove a Franco-British expeditionary force out of Norway and then crushed the French in a six-week campaign in 1940), the military value of this early intelligence is debatable.
But breaking the German naval code, made possible in large part by the recovery of U-110's machine, provided the British with a leg up at a time when the war at sea was very much in doubt.
The capture of a U-boat on the high seas was a rare and considerable achievement, since submarine crews scuttled their boats rather than let them fall into enemy hands. In this case, the U-boat’s commander, Kapitänleutnant Fritz Julius Lemp, thinking he was going to be rammed by an oncoming destroyer, ordered his crew to abandon ship. (His precise order, according to one survivor, was "Last stop. Everybody off.") Seeing the Germans leaving the boat, the British commander managed to veer away and avoid a collision.
Lemp, already in the water when he realized his boat wasn't going to be rammed, was swimming back to U-110 to scuttle her when he was either shot by the British (according to the Germans) or simply disappeared (according to the British).
Three other U-boats were captured at sea during the war, most notably the U-505, surprised by an American task force off the African coast in June 1944. That boat is on permanent display at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago.
Pop culture footnote: The thoroughly mediocre movie, U-571, was loosely based -- very loosely based -- on the capture of U-110. It was also shot through with historical inaccuracies, but that's a subject for another time and place.
(Source: Uboat.net, Wikipedia)
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum Scientists at the national museum of New Zealand, Te Papa, have recently completed dissections of several enormous squids, including pieces of a colossal squid -- the largest invertebrate ever caught. The female specimen weighs more than 1,000 pounds and measures 26 feet long.
The squid's resemblance to fiction's monsters of the deep, including its dinner-plate-size eyes, has attracted global interest. Scientists now believe the cephalopods can grow even larger, to more than 45 feet long, with a corresponding increase in weight.
In this gallery, we take you into the gritty, visceral business of defrosting and preserving this Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni, known in English as the colossal squid.
Left: Researchers at Te Papa had to custom-build a tank in which they could defrost the enormous squid -- and preserve it in formaldehyde.
The colossal squid is not to be confused with the giant squid, which is longer but less massive. The colossal squid pictured is almost twice as heavy as the largest giant squid discovered.
An international team of scientists was flown to New Zealand to assist in the examination of this unique find.
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum The squid was accidentally caught in the Ross Sea off the coast of Antarctica by fishermen searching for Chilean sea bass. The ship's captain, John Bennett, was understandably excited.
"Being alongside a creature like this is just awesome," he told Newsweek. "It's easy to see why outlandish stories about them get stretched out."
After its capture, seen here, the squid was blast-frozen aboard Bennett's boat to keep it from rotting. While necessary, it created a headache for scientists who spent days figuring out how to defrost what they call "the squidcicle."
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum Scientists didn't perform a full dissection of the new colossal squid, but they did cut up two other specimens while the largest squid was defrosting.
At left is a smaller colossal squid, which is only a partial specimen -- it was damaged in transit. Still, even the partial specimen is a boon for researchers. Only 10 of this type of squid have ever been found.
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum The researchers also dissected a giant squid, a cousin of the colossal variety. The giant squid is often longer than the colossal squid but significantly lighter.
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum The colossal squid lives on a diet of fish, caught at depths below 6,000 feet. The squid's arm tentacles, which it uses to catch and hold prey, are lined with dozens of powerful, clawed hooks.
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum Here we see the colossal squid's beak.
Squid bodies are rarely found, but squid beaks turn up in the stomachs of marine predators like sperm whales. They providing much-needed data about the size of this elusive animal because the size of the beak corresponds to the overall size of the animal.
This specimen's lower rostral beak is only 1.7 inches across, considerably smaller than the largest found in a sperm whale stomach, suggesting that much larger colossal squid exist.
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum The colossal squid's eye measures 10.6 inches across -- the largest eye in the animal kingdom. Scientists believe the squid is an almost entirely visual predator and needs the huge eye to spot prey in the dark depths of Antarctic waters.
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum The squid's eye was well-preserved. Here, the single lens of the creature is presented in two halves. In a living squid, the larger piece of tissue drapes over the smaller one to form a single lens.
"When this squid was alive, the lens was almost certainly spherical and possibly of a size similar to an orange," professor Eric Warrant explained on the dissection team's blog.
But scientists don't know much about the animal's eye yet because, as an expert told USA Today, "This is the only intact eye (of a colossal squid) that's ever been found."
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum In this shot of the viscera of the smaller colossal squid, we can see its striped gills and orange ovaries, which can hold thousands of tiny white eggs.
: Courtesy Te Papa Museum The record-breaking colossal squid specimen is nearly thawed in this picture. The plastic bags are serving as floaties for the squid's delicate arms so that they don't break before defrosting.
After three more weeks immersed in a formaldehyde-based solution, the colossal squid will be moved to a special tank at the Te Papa museum for permanent display.
Climate change threatens many animals -- but with any luck, some will handle weather shifts with as much aplomb as Parus major, a colorful songbird also known as the great tit.
In a study published today in Science, ornithologists from the University of Oxford tracked the egg-laying times of great tits in Wytham, England. Since the mid-1970s, temperatures in Wytham have risen steadily, hastening the start of spring by two weeks. The birds have followed suit, timing their breeding to coincide with earlier hatches of their favorite food source, a species of moth caterpillar.
The birds' adaptation appears to be based in what's known as phenotypic plasticity -- the ability of a creature to respond to changes in its environment -- rather than natural selection favoring birds with earlier breeding times.
Such plasticity allows the birds to respond quickly to climate change. Although there's no guarantee that they could handle more-radical warming, the findings strike a rare optimistic note in a chorus of warnings about climate-change-induced animal doom.
"These changes were driven not by evolution, but by the inbuilt ability of individuals to respond to their environment," said study co-author Ben Sheldon. "If driven by natural selection, this adaptation wouldn't have happened so rapidly. In terms of matching environmental change, this is more effective."
Great tits walk a fine line. If they lay their eggs just a few days late, the winter moth caterpillars on which they rely for springtime sustenance will have already hatched and departed when their chicks are hungriest.
But some environmental cue -- most probably temperature-related, though the researchers aren't sure -- triggers timely egg-laying in Wytham's great tits. Whether spring comes early or late, they've laid their eggs on time ever since scientists started tracking them in the early 1960s.
This versatility, said Sheldon, is produced by individual adaptive mechanisms, rather than long-term calibration by natural selection that favors earlier-laying birds.
"The temperature is changing in one direction, but each year it fluctuates a little bit. Natural selection would have trouble keeping up with those fluctuations," said Sheldon.
Such plasticity is good news for the birds.
"You can have rapid evolutionary responses to climate change -- but plasticity, if it does the right thing, can occur more quickly," said Andrew Hendry, a McGill University biologist who has studied the effects of climate change on animals.
"If plasticity is common in these traits that are influenced by climate change, it will aid population persistence," added Hendry, who was not involved in the study.
The findings in Wytham run contrary to those in another great-tit population in the Netherlands. Though they experienced similar weather patterns, the Dutch birds failed to lay their eggs on time.
Some populations may prove better able than others to handle climate change, said Sheldon, but he warned against expecting plasticity to handle the worst of our greenhouse excesses.
"We've seen these birds adapt to a 1.5-degree rise over the last three decades, but there's no guarantee they could cope with another five degrees," he said.
1790: The French National Assembly decides to create a decimal system of measurement. The metric system is born.
This came after the storming of the Bastille but still before the declaration of a republic and the execution of King Louis XVI. But revolution was in the air: "National Assembly" was simply the new name the upstart Third Estate had given itself.
The assembly was acting on a motion by Bishop Charles Maurice de Talleyrand. Under the ancien régime, France measured with an inch, foot and fathom (pouce, pied and toise) about 6.6 percent larger than their English counterparts.
The first meter was based on clockmaking: the length of a pendulum with a half-period (a one-way swing) of one second. Responding to a proposal by the French Academy of Sciences, the assembly redefined the meter in 1793 as 1/10,000 of the distance from the Equator to the North Pole.
The system was elegant. All conversions were based on 10, with Greek prefixes (deka-, hecto-, kilo-) for multiples and Latin (deci-, centi-, milli-) for fractions. The gram unit of weight was defined by the weight of one cubic centimeter (aka milliliter) of water.
The new "Republican Measures" became legal throughout France in 1795 and were made compulsory in 1799 when definitive platinum meter bars and kilogram weights were constructed. But resistance to the new measures lasted for decades.
France also used a quasi-metric Revolutionary Calendar with each month consisting of three décades of 10 days each. (Revolutionaries even attempted a metric day of 10 hours of 100 minutes each of 100 seconds each.) But Napoleon returned France to the Gregorian calendar in 1806.
The current International System of Units -- or SI, for Système International -- is based on the Treaty of the Meter signed in Paris on May 20, 1875. The United States was a signatory, and the metric system is the legal system in this country, although the legal alternate English system remains more widely used. (An online conversion engine can make translation easy.)
The meter was formally redefined in 1960 as 1,650,763.73 wavelengths in a vacuum of the orange-red light radiation of the krypton 86 atom (transition between levels 2p10 and 5d5). The new standard was 100 times more precise than the old. The current definition, adopted in 1983, makes the meter the distance traveled by light in a vacuum during 1/299,792,458 of a second.
That's 39.37 inches to counter-revolutionaries.
Source: Various
: The Edge 705 combines GPS maps and navigation, heart rate, cadence and power output into a palm of your hand wireless unit. It can display up to 16 separate metrics during the ride and combined with the included software and web-based apps it becomes an incredible tool for social networking, exploration and serious training analysis. From a gander at the spec sheet, it seems setup and orientation would take awhile, but it turned out to be a breeze straight out of the box. I was rolling in less than an hour, with a map telling me my location and plotting a course to the trailhead while spitting out vitals all along the way.
The included software helps you track courses, training regimes, and a mass of recorded data. Users can easily upload their data to the Motion Based site and share activities. Just pick one of the many rides uploaded by users on the site, click on "download to device" and the opportunities for fun and exploration are endless. Over the course of a couple weeks I found the 705 to be incredibly accurate, even in close quarters with other bike-borne wireless electronics. It's righted my course a few times and has become an invaluable training tool, enabling me to analyze ride and race data over a couple months and realize marked improvements.
WIRED: Detailed maps and directions are spot-on. GPS reception is excellent even in heavily wooded areas. Software and web-app integration are a boon to digit crunchers.
TIRED: Needs capability for more than three bikes. CD-ROM user manual needs more detail. Should come with a glare-free screen skin. Must run the battery all the way down before the first charge or you'll only get about 3 hours of use.
$650 as tested, Garmin

Photo: Jackson Lynch/Wired.com
Read our full Garmin Edge 705 GPS review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: After cracking open the eight separate boxes the Orb system set comes in, it's clear that Orb is going for an eye-catching industrial look. Copper finished front/left/center speakers look steampunkish but still manage not to clash horribly with living room decor. Instead of opting for typical box speakers, Orb Audio draws on its namesake for hardware design. The front left, right and center speakers of our Mod4 system were made up of quadruple banks of the company's signature orb-shaped desktop speaker. Bringing up the low end was Orb's 300 watt, 10-inch "Uber Ten" subwoofer.
Believe it or not, those copper balls actually pack a punch. Rock, jazz, and even hip-hop sounded surprisingly clear out of the box, producing both impressive mid-level presence and resonant highs. However, playing a Blu-ray disc presented a couple of minor snags. By about halfway through an advance copy of Rambo (2008), I noticed that most of Sylvester Stallone's grunts were hogging the audio field. After some investigation, I discovered that the speakers' sound fields are slightly narrow when playing digital content. A quick repositioning fixed this. Save for this small setback and some prohibitive pricing issues, the Mod4 system is a smart choice for DIY audiophiles who don't mind going off the beaten path to design their system.
WIRED: Awesome clarity for both music and hi-def movies. Easy to assemble. Surprisingly solid craftsmanship. Hardly any distortion at high volumes. Satisfyingly heavy and durable speaker stands. Metal rods on HOSS stands have been hollowed to hide speaker wire. Expansive customization options. Ten-inch sub brings the thunder!
TIRED: Not the broadest sound field we've encountered. Want ear-level speakers? Extra speaker stands are going to cost you $300 a pair. Center channel speaker stand kept coming loose. Speaker wire can be tricky to secure due to enclosed clamps.
$2,300 as tested, Orb Audio

Photo: Jim Merithew/Wired.com
Read our full Orb People's Choice Home Theater Speaker System review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The Sierra Wireless Compass looks like a chunky USB drive, but it houses not only a microSD slot (up to 32 GB) for adding some memory but also a (Sprint) EVDO modem and a GPS receiver. You won't get blazing speeds (imagine five minutes to download a 10-MB file), but you will get access from anywhere, plus a decent if under-featured GPS to boot. The data plans are unremarkable: $60 for 5 GB a month; $40 for a paltry 40 MB (hint: kick down the extra $20, cheapskate).
When you fire up the modem software, handy meters show your signal, time spent and data usage. But there are also tabs at the bottom for some simple applications, some GPS applets and a VPN option. In a rare bit of altruism, one of the applications even offers the location of WiFi hotspots across the United States, should you be running low on data. While the GPS is useful, it's web-based and slow, and there's no simple way to find and track your location. The chubby unit also hogs the ports; good luck sliding in your wireless mouse nubbin next to it. We also found that the modem is all too eager to slip from EVDO the slower 1xRTT connection.
WIRED: The little bugger accesses the Tubes from just about anywhere. Includes a microSD slot so it can double as a thumb drive. Drivers included on the device; no CD necessary. Includes full-featured GPS and a mini-suite of tools. Cheap!
TIRED: The little fatty is a space hog, blocking nearby ports and necessitating a USB extender (included). Gets dad-gum hot. You will lose the detachable cap in 5... 4... 3...
$50 with 2-year activation, Sprint

Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com
Read our full Sierra Wireless Compass 597 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: This wireless adapter for the Wii Nunchuck comes in two parts: a small receiver that snaps into the port on the bottom of the Wiimote, and a nunchuck housing with a flat base that houses a pair of AAA batteries. While gaming, the adapter functions flawlessly. We tested the adapter with a host of different games and noticed no obvious lag. And while the battery compartment adds some weight, it's not enough make the nunchuck feel unbalanced.
Battery life is superb. Nyko claims 60 hours, and they ain't lying. We've been playing on the same set of AAAs for weeks now. The small receiver that attaches to the Wiimote, however, is a power hog, significantly shortening battery life and creating false power readings. Still, if you're using rechargables, the battery drain isn’t as much of an issue. If you play a lot of Wii Sports, $20 is a small price to pay to keep the nunchuck cable from smacking you in the face, or other parts of your anatomy. And if you're a fan of Mario Kart, then, well, blaming your loss on the tangled cord is no longer an excuse.
WIRED: Flawless functionality and simple setup means you'll forget you're using a wireless adapter. Stellar battery life keeps nunchuck going strong for up to 60 hours. Battery pack also functions as a nunchuck stand.
TIRED: Receiver dongle significantly saps Wiimote batteries. Added nunchuck girth may make boss battles harder for those with small hands.
$20, Nyko

Read our full Nyko Wiimote Wireless Adapter review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: I listened to a little Sarah Vaughn on the 2200s at my desk this week and then turned around to see my co-workers staring at me. Everyone in a 15-foot radius was able to enjoy the soul of the famous blues singer, but I could barely hear her. Why would a set of headphones sound loud to everyone else, except the person who is wearing them? The answer lies in the 2200's open-back design. Meant to reduce sound pressure and make listening easier on your lobes, the 'phones basically hemorrhage excess audio into the space around you.
So to get a true sense of the way the headphones handled I locked myself away in the privacy of my basement. In my concrete box of solitude, the headphones created a nice spatial sound, but the bass was a little thin, and the treble a bit harsh. In the end, the 2200s could not provide the warmth and depth I get from other headphones costing half the price. The 2200s are not exactly comfortable either. The cans are big but they don't so much cup your ears as swallow the sides of your head. Ultrasone also claims that the S-Logic technology lets you listen to music at higher volumes without risk of damaging your ears. I'm all for preserving my auditory senses -- I just don't want to damage the hearing of those around me in the process.
WIRED: S-Logic feature not only prevents hearing damage but also simulates believable surround sound. Solid design will stand up to the repeated abuse suffered on public transportation. Detachable cord’s more than 20-foot range almost makes up for lack of range on headphones.
TIRED: Ambient sound is louder than your mother-in-law after a half dozen highballs. Hideous color scheme makes us retch a little. Just could not get music pumping out loud enough to suit our tastes.
$300, Ultrasone

Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com
Read our full Ultrasone HFI 2200 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The Asus M70S is the first laptop computer with a full terabyte of storage space standard, courtesy of two 500-GB drives spinning away inside its ginormous, 8.8-pound chassis. And while spec-wise the M70S is a loaded baked potato (2.5 GHz Core 2 Duo, 4 gigs of RAM, Blu-ray, TV tuner and an ATI Radeon HD 3650), the machine is buggy in day-to-day use. Applications installed only after hiccups, strange lags erupted almost at random and baffling messages asserting DRM errors popped up when we did something as simple as playing back a standard DVD. Most troubling: Windows Vista only reported 3 GB of RAM instead of the four we knew were present.
Power through the issues and you'll find the M70S offers exceptional performance, though not record-breaking by any stretch. $2,400 isn't a terrible deal for the surfeit of goodies you get, but gamers with cash to burn will want even better performance than the M70S can offer -- and they'll demand considerably better stability. We do, too.
WIRED: Surprisingly good battery life (more than 1 hour, 40 minutes) for a 17-inch rig. Dual hard drives allows for mirroring (and perfect, instant backups). Precise loud speakers, including bottom-mounted subwoofer.
TIRED: Very buggy even under minimal load. Extremely dim LCD, even at max brightness. Awkward case design requires punching a difficult-to-reach button to open the lid.
$2,400 as tested, Asus

Photo: Jim Merithew/Wired.com
Read our full Asus M70 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: This small set-top box is dead simple to configure and use with my existing Netflix account. Plug it in, hook it up to the HDTV with an HDMI cable, plug in an ethernet cord, and then use a confirmation code to link it to your account. I was running within five minutes. The box streams movies from Netflix -- it doesn’t download them. I was able to get the 1.0 Mpbs stream in my testing, which resulted in perfectly acceptable video quality. Higher quality streams are available, and over time, HD streams will show up, which the box can handle.
Choosing content to watch is done on your computer, using the familiar Netflix interface. Anything that’s available for instant viewing can be added to the player’s queue. The upside is that browsing the amount of content on Netflix is much easier on a computer than TV; the downside is that you’ll find yourself wanting your laptop by your side. On the downside, Netflix has 100,000 DVDs available, but only 10 percent of them can be procured for streaming. The great thing for current customers is the cost: $100 for the box, and then $0 a month extra.
The score below is balanced between the ease of use and quality of the hardware, and the dearth of content available. If every piece of media in the Netflix catalog were streamable, this would be a 10 for sure.
WIRED: Textbook definition of a simple setup. Good video quality from streams. Box automatically upgrades as new software features become available. No cost above normal Netflix subscription.
TIRED: Another nondescript black box to clutter up your living room. Just not as much content as we wish was available. Box and remote, while functional, just aren’t very good looking.
$100, Roku

Photo by Jim Merithew, Wired.com
Read our full Roku Netflix Player review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: Armed with GPS, and a GSM radio, the Snitch acts as a stowaway spy, broadcasting its location on demand. Place it in your vehicle and track away through the online applet. You can schedule times for the Snitch to report on its location, or you can track it on the fly. If you arm it, an integrated motion sensor tattles via e-mail or text message when it detects movement.
The Snitch's battery can keep the thing alive for a few days of occasional use, or you can get a car charger or kit to tap into the car's electrical system -- good for the sneakier types. The device's GPS and GSM signals are hearty enough to get a GPS signal and send alerts from within a trunk. If hidden, you can control it by text message. On the not-so-great side, the unit ships without a manual; just a getting-started guide. The costs add up too: You must pay for activation ($169 per year!) and "tracking credits" that are depleted as you communicate with the device or track its location. Plus, if you don't use your credits, they expire.
WIRED: Slightly evil. Tracking is plain fun, especially with the sweet, sweet revenge of busting that two-timing (insert spouse's name, vile adjective) once and for all. Powerful signal makes for easy hiding.
TIRED: Slightly evil. The lack of a user manual makes learning the ins and outs of the device a slow process. The Snitch website is somewhat cryptic. Tracking credits are silly.
$400 plus activation, GPS Snitch

Read our full BlackLine GPS Snitch review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The Casio EX-F1 is flat-out one of the fastest cameras we've ever tested -- and ideal for capturing unpredictable moments. Everything about the F1 screams speed, from its sleek elongated body to the 60 frames per second you'll be able to capture with its high-speed CMOS sensor and LSI processor. Hell, even the camera's flash will fire up to seven times a second for up to three seconds.
The F1 also happens to be a decent video camera, capable of shooting standard and high-def movies (1920 x 1080) at up to 1,200 fps. You can even set the EX-F1 to independently fire off a series of pictures thanks to a handy motion detector. Despite these great features, the EX-F1 is admittedly a flawed speed demon -- it's heavy and awkward, its low-light performance was abysmal compared to other (much cheaper) DSLRs and when shooting movies at the highest 1,200-frame rate, you'll notice the actual frame itself shrinks considerably. The F1 is still a remarkable example of what’s possible when camera makers refocus their energy on including features that are, you know, actually fun to use. And fun is probably the best way to describe the F1.
WIRED: Divvy up those 60 shots per second in multiple ways: 30 shots per second for two seconds, 20 for three seconds and so on. Mini-HDMI jack makes for sexy F1/HDTV pairing. Pre-record mode means you'll capture moments you thought you had missed.
TIRED: 12x zoom is slower than a three-toed sloth with an Ambien addiction. Crappy low-light performance only partially forgiven by the camera's zippy flash. No optical eyepiece so you'll have to rely on the tiny electronic viewfinder. Flash doesn't work in pre-record mode. $1,000 may seem steep for such scant megapixels. Cannot capture sound while recording high-speed video.
Price/maker: $1,000, Casio

Photo: Jim Merithew/Wired.com
Read our full Casio EX-F1 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The new version of the Jawbone eliminates the 2006 version's previous fit issues -- for me at least. Within two minutes, I had the right size earpiece, and the correct over-ear loop to keep it locked to my cheek -- a requirement for the proper function of the noise-cancellation. One big help is that the Jawbone has shed a ton of weight and size since the last version as well, now tipping the scales at just 10 grams heavy and 50 percent smaller than the first version.
Call quality is still as good as it gets with a Bluetooth headset, which is to say good but not great. The noise cancellation is supposedly upgraded, but people on the other end of our calls couldn't tell a difference between the two models. Overall, though, this is truly an upgrade. Aliph has taken the best-performing headset on the market, and made it smaller and easier to wear. Which is pretty much all you can ask for.
WIRED: Great sound. Serious upgrade in wearability, even with fewer options. Doesn't weight you down like the older model. Easiest syncing headset ever; starts up in pairing mode the first time you turn it on.
TIRED: Still relies on a proprietary power connector that isn't the same as the first model, either. Design cues are a little bit Gucci for some wearers (especially Wired geeks). A quick spin through the manual a must to understand how to operate invisible buttons.
$130, Jawbone

Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com
Read our full Aliph "New" Jawbone review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: Not only is the screen on the new version of the Eee PC 4-G bumped up from seven inches to nine, the RAM is doubled (from 512 MB to 1 GB), the solid state storage system jumps from 4 GB to 20 GB, and, of course, the price takes a leap, too, hitting the $550 mark. The bigger screen (and larger resolution) makes web pages, documents and graphics files far more navigable and legible. The keyboard, while technically the same size as the 7-inch 4-G, actually feels a little bigger.
Though the CPU is the same as the 4-G (a 900 MHz Intel Celeron), the extra RAM is a big help. The 900 boots noticeably faster, and application lag is improved. Battery life also gets a big boost: We eked almost four hours of video playback from the device, vs. two hours, 20 minutes on the 4-G. The Eee didn't remember our WEP key after a reboot, and the battery life meter was totally wrong during our testing, but those issues are probably due to some Linux drivers that can be updated. Though the price tag is now rising well past $500, it's still an awfully attractive deal.
WIRED: Positively pint-size, just 3 ounces heavier (2.2 pounds) than the seven-inch model. Window XP model available (same price, but drops total storage from 20 GB to 12 GB). Excellent component upgrades over 7-inch model.TIRED: Price now flirts with full-size notebooks. No 802.11n. Multitouch-like trackpad features are simplistic and underdeveloped. Some fan noise. Uncomfortably dim screen.
$550, Asus

Photo: Jim Merithew/Wired.com
Read our full Asus Eee PC 900 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: If you do like to crank tunes on your PC, Axiom's Audiobyte speaker system is one of the biggest desktop boomers out there. It includes two satellite speakers, a subwoofer and a 55-watt-per-channel amplifier that connects to a PC, iPod or any other source via the minijack port. The satellite speakers put out a clean, neutral sound with plenty of detail and depth in the high and midrange, even at low volumes. They look gorgeous, but might feel a little out of place if your desktop decor is littered with brushed aluminum Apple products.
For a desktop system, though, the sub is awfully big and boxy. The amp also doubles as a space heater, so you'll probably want to stash it under the desk, and then use your feet on the volume knob. At $350, and another $180 for the sub, this is one of the priciest desktop systems you'll find. But if you have a home office where you listen to music, play videogames and watch movies, it will certainly breathe new life into the experience.
WIRED: Nice build quality, including titanium-domed tweeters. Satellite speakers look and sound sharp. Lots of color and finish choices, like faux walnut burl. Crank up the volume without distorting the sound.
TIRED: Over five hundred bucks and there's no remote? We like our LEDs and all but the big ring of them around the volume knob is overkill. Seriously, a sub that large should thump harder.
$530 as tested, Axiom

Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com
Read our full Axiom Audiobyte Desktop Speaker System review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: When you first pop open the A305, you may gasp a little: Reflective hematite stripes and lacquered finish catch light, while the keys shimmer like little black candies, inviting your fingers to dance across them. But the mirrored surface also invites smudges to the party -- a lot of them -- which means you'll be spending time spiffing the thing up before it can be seen in public.
Then again, the Toshiba's packed with goodies. An Intel T8100 processor, 3 GB of RAM and a 512-MB ATI graphics chip provide punch for processing and playtime. Dual 200-GB drives offer tons of room for HD video that you can pipe out to a TV through HDMI. An extended battery lends two hours of time away from an outlet. While the screen is bright and sharp, it's a little too reflective; if you don't like the way you look, use this laptop exclusively in the dark. And maybe that's where the Toshiba performs best. Slip in a DVD or a game in the darkness of your dungeon, watch the inset DVD controls glow coolly through the dark, game away in peace, and know that no one will ever see the smudges.
WIRED: Breathtaking good looks. Sweet specs delight (casual) gamers without causing poverty.
TIRED: No Blu-ray to go with the HDMI. Mirrored surface is positively smudgo-philic, while the screen causes unwanted self-examination. The fingerprint reader separates the mouse keys and fails to justify its existence.
$1,250 as tested, Toshiba

Read our full Toshiba A305 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: This new compact DSLR from Canon gets the now obligatory two-mil bump in resolution to 12.2 megapixels, but in the case of the XSi, the prestige lies in a new Digic III processor, higher 3.5-fps frame rate, a larger viewfinder, back-of-the-camera-dominating 3-inch LCD, quicker autofocus, a bundled 18-55mm f3.5-5.6 lens with optical image stabilization and the inclusion of Live View.
This wide zoom lens (29-88mm 35mm equivalent) benefits from expected sharpness and added f-stop range. The XSi is given a bump up from its more expensive siblings with dual Live View autofocus. You can choose between the phase-change AF and contrast-based AF. Canon specs the XSi with the same Digic III processor and 14-bit Analog-Digital converter used on its top-of-the-line 1Ds Mark III series. This combo delivers -- among many good things -- quicker image processing, faster frame rates and a broader range of tones with improved color rendition on the final prints. All told, Canon has made a credible case for the step-up-from-point-and-shoot customers to give the XSi a hard look.
WIRED: Switch to SDHC memory. Relatively low noise at high ISO settings. New battery with 50 percent more endurance.
TIRED: ISO tops out at 1600. Plastic body seems too plasticky. ISO in only full-stop increments. Lacks the useful HELP mode of its major competitors. A tad bit pricey.
$900 as tested, Canon
Read our full Canon Rebel XSi review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: There's a lot to love about this phone on the surface: It's elegantly minimalist, light weight and versatile. At 4 x 2 x.7-inches, it shares the form factor of its cousin the F700, making for a slick, pocket-friendly presentation. The Glyde's clean profile is rounded out by the unit's sparse use of external buttons and a slimming dark-blue-on-silver chassis. With its sweet looks, the bonuses of multimedia support and a decent 2-MP camera with flash, the Glyde is clearly a stylistic progression compared with Verizon's other touchscreen phones.
Likewise, the Glyde does fairly well with its full HTML browser too. Wikipedia and Google queries were easily executed and relatively quick with the phone's EV-DO connection. Of course, with no accelerometer, onscreen QWERTY keyboard, or gesture-based navigation, the Glyde isn't exactly an iPhone-killer. Samsung attempts to sweeten the deal by adding a basic QWERTY keyboard (accessible by sliding the screen to the right). In truth, this addition ends up being a mixed bag. The fastest way to zip around on this phone seems to be an underwhelming combination of touchscreen and QWERTY navigation. Score? Glyde 1, Pseudo-futuristic badassery 0.
WIRED: Sleek and compact design. Bluetooth compatible. Adjustable vibrating feedback for touch commands. Backlit QWERTY keypad is easy to see in the dark. Records up to 10 minutes of video. Speedy performance. Crisp call quality. Vibrant 240 x 440 touchscreen. Touchscreen automatically locks after initiating calls.
TIRED: Onscreen buttons near screen perimeter can be unresponsive. Automatically switches to landscape whenever browser is opened. Weak speaker output during both multimedia playback and speakerphone calls. No onscreen QWERTY keyboard for texting. With only 35 MB of internal memory for music, shelling out for a microSD card is unavoidable.
$300 (with two-year agreement), Verizon
Read our full Samsung Glyde cellphone review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The Olympus Evolt E-420 is the most diminutive digital SLR we've seen -- and that's a good thing. Most SLRs are bulky, heavyweight beasts tipping the scales at 2 pounds or more. The E-420 is more of a bantamweight, weighing in at just 1.4 pounds with the included kit lens.
Feature-wise, the E-420 holds its own against other low-cost SLRs. The 10-megapixel sensor produces good quality images with little noise up to and including ISO 800 (it maxes out at ISO 1600). Like other recent Olympus cameras, such as the E-510, it has a Live View mode, which lets you compose shots on the LCD instead of peering through the viewfinder as you must do with most SLRs. The E-420 sports a variety of autofocus modes including one that automatically detects faces in the frame and focuses on them. That feature worked well in our tests but sometimes took as much as a second to locate a face. Also, it only works when the camera's Live View mode is switched on.
WIRED: Light weight and small size make it far more portable than most DSLRs. Live View lets you compose onscreen instead of peering through viewfinder. Speedy autofocus. No discernible shutter lag. Paging all photo geeks: RAW format support.
TIRED: Fewer buttons means it takes more menu-surfing to adjust basic settings like ISO and white balance. Face-detection feature can be slow. Four Thirds lens compatibility is largely moot, as no manufacturers beside Olympus and pricey Sigma support the standard. No pop-up bong attachment.
$600 with 14-42mm kit lens, Olympus America
Read our full Olympus E-420 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The Drobo storage automaton takes care of just about everything a normal RAID-based device does, but with virtually no effort on your part. Better still, it plays friendly with every manner of OS: Linux, Mac, Windows or whatever bric-a-brac home computing environment you can throw at it. The only problem -- as many have noted -- is the lack of a GigE port. But that's where the DroboShare comes in.
Essentially a flat stand that sits under the Drobo, this little device transforms the server from a DAS (Desktop Attached Storage) to a NAS. For anyone who already owns a Drobo, this little supplement device should be a no-brainer. We hooked it up to our Airport Extreme and were up and running in minutes. Yes, speed was noticeably affected when switching from USB2 to Ethernet, but most home users aren't going to be using the Drobo as a swap drive for Photoshop or video editing anyway. Time Machine backups worked like a gem, and we were even able to stream iTunes and some other, um, HD content in across an 802.11n WiFi connection without a single hiccup. While pricey, the Drobo and DroboShare still represent one of the easiest ways we've found to set up a shared-network drive.
WIRED: Idiot-proof setup. Self-mounting (thank you, Samba file server). No software required. Supports almost all major file systems, including NTFS (Windows), HFS+ (Mac OS X), EXT3 (Linux) or FAT32 (various), so you can use it in multiple PC settings. Flexible: mix-and-match drive capacities, brands and speeds, so as your insatiable lust for storage grows, so too will Drobo's data storing prowess.
TIRED: All that expandability and ease of use come with a ridiculous price. All told, you're paying $700 for the Drobo and DroboShare (tip: search the Internetz for package deals and save a few ducats) -- and that's sans SATA drives. Four drive bays + fan = leafblower-level noise. No UPnP or DLNA media-server functionality, so no remote web access. USB-Ethernet bottleneck hampers speed.
$700 as tested, Drobo

Photo: Jim Merithew/Wired.com
Read our full DroboShare Storage Device review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: This little guy will let you manage and fine-tune your backups, and it functions as a media server so you can remotely access your photos, music and videos as well. There are some notable limitations to the 2120. Setup was a bit more involved for things like the Photo Webshare service, and it took us a while to figure out how to simply add photos. You also won't be able to remotely access the PCs on your home network with the Media Vault.
One very important thing to remember: The 2120 ships with just one fixed 500GB drive -- not exactly a storage beast. It could (or should) be presuming you'll be backing up from multiple PCs. There is one extra bay that accepts a 1-TB drive, but still, the 2120 is nowhere near as flexible as the Drobo or other RAID-based devices. Still, if remote access is important to you and you want the ability to manage all your backups and shared folders, for the price, you're simply not going do much better than the 2120.
WIRED: Back up your backups by adding an additional drive to the 2120 with USB. Serves as a DLNA media server, which paves the way for iTunes music aggregation, photo web sharing, remote access and web-based file browsing. None of that data corruption bugginess that's been plaguing WHS. Cheap at 300 bones.
TIRED: Mac-tolerant, but not Mac-friendly: Access stored data from a Mac, but setup is restricted to Windows machines only. Only two drive bays instead of the typical four. The Media Vault's software can handle only file-level backups, not full-system backups.
$300, HP

Photo: Jim Merithew/Wired.com
Read our full Media Vault 2120 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The Z9 effortlessly satisfies the standard phone user, and pleases the rest of us with a couple extra perks. You get your e-mail and IM; you can listen to music from the microSD card or buy some more. Calls are above-average quality (trust us, we've been shouting into an iPhone for the last year). In addition to 2-megapixel shots and recording video, it can also video share -- send live video to other 3-G AT&T users, which is great for broadcasting scenes from your DIY fight club or natural disasters.
But the star of the show is the GPS. This is no cell-tower GPS Lite that only tells you what block you're on; this is the real deal, with turn-by-turn directions, live traffic info, access to the AT&T database for points of interest -- you know, stuff that's actually useful. If you don't want to punch in an address, just call the 877 number and speak it. On the downside, you will visibly age while it initializes, and it sometimes miscalculates your direction. Fortunately, goofs are few and far between and the Z9 picks up on them.
WIRED: Excellent call quality. Strong GPS capabilities. Lets you transmit (or receive) live video to other 3-G AT&T phones. Haptic feedback tickles.$249 (with two-year contract), Motorola

(Photo: Jim Merithew/Wired.com)
Read our full Motorola Z9 review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: If Dr. Evil of Austin Powers fame were more musically minded, he may have demanded something like the beamz -- a musical instrument with "fricking lasers" attached to it. As a kid with his music career still ahead of him, beamz founder Jerry Riopelle frequented an ice cream shop with a laser-triggered doorbell. When the MIDI music format appeared in the '80s, he wondered whether the same concept could apply to making tunes. The result, decades later, is the beamz Music Performance System.
This large USB peripheral includes six beams generated by 12 lasers that, when broken, activate elements of 30 songs stored on your computer. Riopelle managed to create a laser-based instrument anyone can play -- a harder task than it sounds, since the musical parts have to mesh musically in nearly limitless permutations of hand waves. Music experience helps with timing, tempo, arrangement and composition, but it's so easy and amusing to play that only the Invisible Man could fail to have fun. — Eliot Van Buskirk
WIRED: Lets anyone make music. With lasers. Near-zero latency. One-shots, loop-based samples, dual-sample banks, "conductor" beams for toggling sections and a backing-track creator allow complex compositions. Exports in WAV format. Plans include a "third-party composer program," a Stevie Wonder play-along and other downloadable songs for $2 each.
TIRED: The demonstration video almost defies explanation. Seriously, click on it. Some of the sounds seem dated. No Mac version (yet). Pricey considering that this is nothing more than a fancy toy.
$600, Sharper Image

Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: What RIM's aversion to 3-G is we'll never figure out. With version 8120, RIM updates its beloved Pearl smartphone with WiFi but still omits a 3-G radio and, oddly, GPS, the latter of which can be found on both the 8110 and 8130. The shell is virtually identical to older Pearl models, and functionally very little here has changed. Aside from some minor interface tweaks (woo, new icons!), the trackball-and-two-letters-per-key experience is fully intact.
The big news, of course, is the addition of WiFi, and RIM seems to have finally gotten the kinks worked out of its 802.11g implementation; we didn't encounter any of the troubles we experienced with the BlackBerry 8820 last year. If you dig the BlackBerry's mature e-mail features (who doesn't?) and can handle the whole bi-character key setup (and we know many who don't), the Pearl 8120's a solid upgrade to hold you over until a 3-G version (fingers crossed) arrives. —Christopher Null
WIRED: Camera upgraded to 2 megapixels plus flash and video capability. Software is somewhat better at word detection and correction; even works well with odd, multiword URLs. Crazy-loud speakerphone. Very sensitive mic offers exceptional call quality in our tests. Very fast battery charging, and nearly nine solid hours of talk time in our benchmarking. Stable WiFi implementation.
TIRED: Pearl keyboard still not for everyone. Lack of 3-G is absurd. No GPS.$200 (with two-year contract), RIM

(Photo courtesy Jim Merithew, Wired.com)
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The latest effort to get the boob tube on a mobile device is AT&T's Mobile TV with FLO (Forward Link Only), and it's surprisingly good. Coupled with the LG Vu phone, it's a match made in couch-potato heaven. The MediaFLO service uses an unusual, nonstandard bit of spectrum to ensure that the streaming of your favorite flicks is uninterrupted. Instead of downloading the data over AT&T's 3-G network, the Qualcomm-developed technology operates primarily on the old UHF television band, though it does tap into the 3-G network in order to get started.
The result is that there's virtually no buffering and programming starts up within a few seconds. On the Vu's brilliant 3-inch screen we found picture quality to be insanely clear and frame rates to be smooth as the ice cubes in a tumbler of 30-year-old bourbon. "Mobile TV" is a bit of a misnomer. Only a few channels are simulcast, meaning you can watch them in near-real time. All other programming, like episodes of your favorite Fox shows, are time-shifted and updated when necessary. Still, watching live streaming TV or movies like The Karate Kid on the Vu's 3-inch haptic touchscreen is pretty amazing.
WIRED: Good selection of simulcast and time-shifted programming. No network lag. Live streaming CNN is a must for news junkies. Variety of programming packages should fit just about everyone’s viewing style.
TIRED: Unless you're in an area with strong 3-G coverage, the service simply will not work. Right now the service is only available in 58 locations nationwide.
$30 per month as tested, AT&T

(Photo courtesy AT&T Wireless)
: The Kensington SlimBlade trackball mouse is an aerodynamic, sleekly designed peripheral. It's also a tad schizoid. And that's a good thing. What I am crazy about is that with the touch of a button on top of this mini-size travel mouse, its smooth-gliding scroll wheel transforms into a responsive trackball. Finally, there's a pointing device for your notebook that works in tight spaces and is as comfortable to use as the larger desktop mice I'm more accustomed to.
The SlimBlade’s 1,000-dpi laser is dependable: No matter what surface it lands on, the mouse performs perfectly. The roller ball even offers 360-degree scrolling without having to physically move the mouse. Bluetooth connectivity means that the thin-profile mouse is all you need to carry -- no extra USB adapters or encumbering cables to schlep around. If your PC doesn't have built-in Bluetooth, Kensington's new USB Micro Adapter should do the trick. With a mouse of this caliber, don't be surprised if you find yourself plugging it in to your desktop PC as well.
WIRED: Thin enough to stick in a shirt pocket. Seamlessly switches from mouse to a 360-degree trackball. Auto-sleep mode automatically extends the two-AA-battery life up to six months. Seriously. Plastic chassis feels like metal with some heft. Amazingly comfortable to use despite its size.
TIRED: Mouse/trackball mode button initially takes some time to figure out. Hard to know when sleep mode has kicked in.
$100, Kensington

Read our full Kensington SlimBlade Trackball Mouse review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: This no-frills unit rocks a bright 3.5-inch QVGA screen encased in a black plastic chassis, and weighs less than half a pound. On top of all the normal manuals, the NAV730 includes a car charger, mounting bracket, 1-GB SD card containing U.S. maps, USB charging cable and a DVD containing backup maps. The WinCE-based OS was fast enough when navigating the menus, but the user interface was a bit of a downer.
Acquisitions were also a bit of a mixed bag. I was able to get a 28-second lock while outdoors on a relatively clear day. Meanwhile, attempting the same feat indoors took 2 minutes, 32 seconds. These aren't necessarily bad times, but other GPS units we've tested achieve faster locks in more challenging settings. Once I got moving, the voice-guided turn-by-turn directions were easy enough to understand via the text-to-speech feature and surprisingly loud 1-watt speaker. Unfortunately, these solid additions were marred by occasionally spotty destination markers. These navigational hiccups were extremely rare, but honestly there was a moment or two when I questioned whether the NAV730 would accidentally direct me into oncoming traffic.
WIRED: Extremely cheap and mostly effective. Excellent multimedia support (MP3, WMA, OGG, MPEG4, AVI, WMV, GIF, JPG, TIFF). Zippy menu navigation via 400-Mhz processor. Accurate text-to-speech pronunciation of street names. Traffic Message Channel compatible (subscription required). Voice guidance in 20 languages.
TIRED: Seriously light on preprogrammed points of interest. Hard power cycle necessary for charging. Clunky menus and overall UI can prove challenging. No Bluetooth support. On/off switch is too far recessed, hard to toggle. 320x240 screen is hard to read outdoors.
$170, V7

(Photo courtesy navigonusa.com)
Read our full V7 NAV730 GPS review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: For its price, the Navigon 2100 Max is fairly swank. If you plan out your trip far ahead of time you'll have a positive experience. The Navigon can switch from 2-D to a 3-D Reality mode that will even show you which lane you should be in. In emergencies, you can bring up the nearest tow truck, hospital or pharmacy. But once you leave the highway or want to navigate on the fly, prepare for frustration. It's hard to get the scroll buttons to register, address look-up is time-consuming and unintuitive, and the Points of Interest directories are hard to navigate, especially if you don't know the name of the business you're searching for.
The most aggravating of all is when the unit starts talking back, arguing like a real estate lawyer. If a community is not a "registered municipality," the Navigon can still find it, but won't let you navigate to a street within that area. One address we checked simply couldn't be found because we couldn't provide the correct hamlet for it. Yes, Madame Navigon is hard to satisfy and takes patience to deal with; if you don't have the time to convince or cajole her to do your bidding, then it's time to spring for a pricier model.
WIRED: Midrange features at a flea-market price. The speaker has a good set of lungs and demands to be heard. The unit's excellent mounting bracket is virtually shake-free.
TIRED: Sluggish response time frustrates and causes double-taps. Obstinate refusal to recognize certain towns even though they show up in auto-fill enrages the most gentle souls.
Price/maker: $299, Navigon USA

Read our full Navigon 2100 Max review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The enV2 is apparently the end result of spilling coffee on a stack of consumer satisfaction surveys from the first enV. It's a lighter, slimmer package, but a botched facelift leaves it with all the style of that TI-36 you ditched back in high school. Easy to dial, but with the half-inch-tall screen on the front, the enV2 isn't really good for much else. Thankfully, once you open it up there's a full QWERTY keyboard -- not as wide at the original, but the keys are evenly spaced so it's still great for messaging.
There's a 2-megapixel camera, but even if you have figured out how to comfortably hold an Altoid-can-clamshell without blocking the much smaller lens with your fingers, pics and video turn out pretty grainy. Where to end? Do yourself a favor: If confronted with the choice of purchasing an enV2, think long and hard about it. After all, you're stuck with this device for two years. — Nate Ralph
WIRED: Bluetooth. Vibrant interior screen. External microSD slot. Stereo speakers.
TIRED: VZ Navigator (pay me!), IMs as SMS (pay me!), POP e-mail (pay me!) and the walled garden web "browser" (pay me!) will jack up that monthly bill. No WiFi.
$130 with two-year contract, Verizon

Photos courtesy Jon Snyder, Wired.com
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: Packed into a dual analog/digital face, the Tissot T-Touch is literally a flotilla of functions. So what exactly does it do? Well for starters, how about dual time zones, two alarms and countdown chronographs? OK, still not impressed? But how about adding a barometer, thermometer, perpetual calendar, compass, altimeter and an azimuth (sort of a GPS system on your wrist)? Oh what's that? Getting gadget fever? Wait, there's more.
What really makes this timekeeper unique is how all these functions are activated: the face is a touchscreen. By tapping on seven different points on the analog face the digital portion displays the results instantly. Of course to cram this type of instrumentation into a watch requires a certain amount of heft and the T-Touch does not disappoint, weighing in at more than a quarter-pound. Programming the T-Touch's ambitious functionality also takes the same patience that would go into solving a Rubik's Cube. But if you possess that patience, this just might be the ideal timekeeping, temperature-sensing, direction-finding, altitude-detecting, all-in-one, wrist-mounted wundergizmo.
WIRED: Dual analog/digital face provides actual temperature, directional readings and barometric readings. Backlighting and water-resistance to 330 feet useful for all you deep divers out there.
TIRED: Hard to program. Confusing eight-page instruction booklet almost as thick as an issue of Wired magazine. Quarter-pound weight plus J-Lo-class thickness make you conscious of the watch at all times.
$1,100, T-Touch
(Photo and wrist modeling courtesy James Merithew, Wired.com)
Read our full Tissot T-Touch Watch review. Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily. The iK500 iPod Dock's two 5-inch subwoofers and passive radiator on the back pump out the shock waves while the dual tweeters take care of the crispy bits. Whether it's thump or twitter, the Kicker sounds equally good. More than a brutish and simple set of speakers, the Kicker comes with a remote that lets you navigate your iPod menus to select playlists or songs and adjust the volume, not just the shuffle and volume of lesser remotes like the Bose SoundDock's. Knob revivalists will dig the prominent protuberance on the front of the case, which covers power, volume, bass, treble and aux-in selection. The back of the box offers a 3.5mm line-in port and stereo RCA-out for connecting external speakers.
:
WIRED: You can't get busted for disturbing the peace if you can't hear the cops banging on your door. Achieves ear-stinging volume without distortion. Volume, bass and treble controls are accessible with a poke and pinch of the front-facing knob. Zune owners can pick up a similar zK500 model.
TIRED: The iPod docks vertically (rather than at an angle), making the screen hard to read. The direction buttons on the remote slow down scrolling. No mic-in for high-decibel karaoke.
Price/maker: $350, Kicker

(Photo courtesy Jim Merithew, Wired.com)
Read our full Kicker iK500 iPod Dock review.
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: Admittedly, most people don't sit around thinking, "Gee, I wish I could set up a high-speed WiFi network here at this picnic. Or at the beach. Or in my minivan." But for us gadget junkies, we do think that. That's why this mobile router and EVDO card combo from Kyocera is perfect for us. The router signed on automatically go to Verizon's network after inserting the ExpressCard; you can also use older PC card modems with the router. Soon, we were sharing very snappy net access with everyone in the nearby park. Two small quibbles -- the router required periodic reboots, and we never got scalding download speeds on the Rev A network. Downloads topped out at 700 Kbps while uploads peaked in the 400-Kbps range. But for the price and ease of use, not to mention the McGyver-like ability to quickly throw up a network, the combo is hard to top. — Mark McClusky
WIRED: Dead simple to set up -- we went from box to internet surfing in less than five minutes. Routing functions worked well, easily managing dozens of clients. Handsome white case design. Router accepts PC card, ExpressCard or USB wireless modems. Four-port wired router included. ExpressCard protrudes less from laptops than competing models.
Router:
$250, Kyocera

Card:
$50 (with two-year contract) from Verizon, Verizon

Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: Lasonic X Famous i931
The Lasonic X Famous i931 is a ghetto-fabulous boombox designed by former Blink 182 drummer Travis Barker, and its ability to play music from iPods, SD/MMC cards, microphones, USB sticks and line-level sources hits us right in the feature-set sweet spot. But with an interface that somehow renders the user-friendly iPod nearly un-navigable and a chintzy plastic construction, it's best-suited for one activity: belting out rhymes over backing tracks stored in one of the above-mentioned formats. See, this thing has a quarter-inch input that works with a standard stage mic. A gain-control knob mixes vocals above or below the music, while an echo knob adds various intensities of delay to your voice. We would not recommend this 2x12-watt monster for regular music listening since it can be so frustrating to use. But if you know exactly what you would do with a microphone enabled iPod boombox, Lasonic X Famous i931 will get the job done in style — Eliot Van Buskirk
WIRED: Plays MP3s from iPods or flash memory. Displays song information. Lets you address throngs with a microphone (not included). Remote control and custom-fitted docks for various iPod models are included. TIRED: Flimsy construction not tough enough for the streets. Semi-opaque plastic obscures iPod screen; no display on remote. Controls are more confusing than MF Doom's rhyme schemes. Doesn't work with iPhone or iPod Touch. Even when blasting "Fight the Power," we didn't feel like tossing a garbage can through a window.$250, Famous Stars and Straps

(Photo courtesy Eliot Van Buskirk, Wired.com)
Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily.
: The 10-megapixel Olympus SP-570UZ makes a good shooter for the photo enthusiast who lacks experience yet has enough loot to drop on an entry-level DSLR. You can start out relying on the auto settings (they won't steer you wrong), and then explore the advanced functions as you build your skill. Even the most hopeless of n00bs can use this thing. The more experienced user can squeeze a lot from the camera in various shooting situations, and you can perform nearly all functions manually for more control.
The camera's lens barrel extends to a lewd length, but it packs a 20x zoom. The anti-shake controls help in the long shots, but you'll lose some detail unless you're using a tripod. The camera boasts a litany of functions -- face detection, burst mode, 22 scene presets, movie recording and epic zooming ability, but where it really excels is up close. Those who like to sweat the small stuff will love the super macro mode that captures excellent detail in flowers, bugs and other assorted tiny objects.
WIRED: Stunning macro function makes big shots out of the smallest subjects. Versatile controls soothe the enthusiasts while auto presets comfort the n00bs. Excellent manual. Top-mounted hot shoe makes swapping external flash options easy.TIRED: Pretend-professional zoom requires two hands. Zoom shots without a tripod can come out blurry. Stubborn clinging to proprietary xD media is irritating: Resistance is futile, Olympus.
$500, Olympus
(Photo courtesy Jim Merithew, Wired.com)
Read our full Olympus SP-570UZ camera review. Check Wired.com's latest Gadget Lab reviews, updated daily. The brand-new 15.4-inch (1280x800) Gateway M-151X comes in three hues (red, silver and blue) or wrapped in a blue and white floral graphic called Arctic Bloom. While the M-151X is, at heart, a mid-range laptop, its 1.66GHz Core 2 Duo, 2 GB RAM and 250 GB hard drive should provide all the power and storage you need for just about anything that's not specialized: Gaming is decent, graphics are solid and video editing is easy on this machine. The sea of mainstream laptops is littered with lackluster look-alikes, and while the M-151X isn't perfect, it manages to occupy that sweet spot between price and performance, not to mention style.
:
Even though Microsoft's Steve Ballmer bungled Yahoo and Vista is sticking to store shelves, the company he runs is as dangerous as ever, says the author of a new book about the future of Microsoft post-Bill Gates.
While Gates will remain as Microsoft's chairman, he will no longer be involved in day-to-day decisions, leaving Microsoft's showy, sometimes sweaty CEO Steve Ballmer to his own devices.
Many industry watchers are hesitant about Ballmer right now, partly due to the botched Yahoo deal and a bumpy Windows Vista release. Still, Mary Jo Foley, a ZDNet blogger who has covered Microsoft since Bill Gates first emerged from puberty, believes the company has a big future ahead of it.
We chewed the fat with Foley about the release of her book Microsoft 2.0: How Microsoft Plans to Stay Relevant in the Post-Gates Era, the Yahoo fiasco, Microsoft's biggest challenges and the evolution of Bill Gates.
Wired: What's your prediction -- when do you think Steve Ballmer will give up or get kicked out?
Mary Jo Foley: I think he's going to stick to what he said. He said last year he would [serve as CEO] for nine years, because that's when his youngest son will be in college. I don't think they'll get rid of him before then.
[The board] would be hard-pressed to find a better CEO than Ballmer. He's pretty wedded to a lot of old-school ideas -- like, he's never going to say, "Let's just toss out Windows and start over," which is what a lot of people think is necessary. But he epitomizes Microsoft.
Wired: Do you think Ballmer's equipped to deal with Microsoft's biggest problems right now?
Foley: Their biggest challenge right now is to continue to profit from existing products while not neglecting new business models and strategies that come up. Many people think Microsoft's biggest challenge is competing with Google. That's not true. Their biggest challenge is to make sure Windows stays relevant.
Wired: So what do you think of Windows Mobile?
Foley: I've avoided it like the plague. Every time I get a new cellphone, everyone always warns me not to get Windows Mobile. The thing's awful. I think Windows Mobile is a huge challenge for them.
They've got this new "consumer" bug where they think they've got to be a player in every consumer market. I think they would be better served sticking to their enterprise roots and not chase every consumer trend.
Wired: You've covered this company for a long time. Did you have any "Aha!" moments when you were researching this book?
Foley: I was stunned by how quickly people count Microsoft out these days. It's almost like a knee-jerk reaction, like, "Oh, they're irrelevant." In the old days, startups pitching VCs used to have what they called the "Microsoft slide," they had to plan for what they would do when Microsoft came into their market. Now, instead of looking at Microsoft as a player, people think they don't matter. But it's dangerous for companies of any size to count them out. They're still good at figuring out how to come back into a market and steal everybody's lunch.
Wired: What did you make of the Yahoo takeover attempt?
Foley: When I first heard they were going to buy Yahoo I was completely incredulous. I thought, "This is going to be such a disaster." I had just submitted the manuscript the week before so I had to revise it. I knew a lot of employees at Microsoft didn't want it, and I just could not see how it would be a positive.
I sort of think they dodged a bullet -- I think it's going to be great for Microsoft [to have dropped the offer for Yahoo] and I hope they don't go back into negotiations.
Wired: And what do you think happens to Microsoft after Gates retires?
Foley: There's always been this dichotomy between "Bill's guys" and "Steve's guys." Steve's guys have MBAs and their roots are in sales. Bill's guys have been traditional technologists. The people who are more like Steve will probably get more power and will run the show, so I wonder who's going to be the tech champion for Bill's guys. I think that's going to be a big cultural and noticeable change once Gates is out from his day-to-day duties.
Wired: How has Bill Gates changed during the time you've covered Microsoft?
Foley: The first time I interviewed Bill Gates was in 1984, and back then, he was a really difficult interview. As a reporter you went into a Gates interview knowing that you were going to be insulted. He would say things like, "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard." Or he would look off into the distance and ignore you. He's a much better press-trained guy now. People attribute that to his marriage, having kids or getting older. But whatever the reason, he's more press-savvy now.
Wired: And Steve Ballmer?
Foley: He's the same. He's always been unpredictable and crazy. He's a really fun interview. You never know what he's going to say. You always walk out of a Ballmer interview with a great sound bite.

Also on Portfolio
Big Loot From Grand Theft Auto
Sprint's WiFinale: Big Funding for Turbo-Wireless Venture
Sprint Deal: Lurching Toward an All-Wireless, Always-Connected Future
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineIt's happening again: A new technology and breakthrough discoveries are equipping entrepreneurs with the tools to rattle the status quo.
It occurred 10 years ago when the internet introduced radical new ways to communicate, be subversive, and sell things. Now it's the turn of gene-techs — the fledgling industry that's setting out to mine the DNA inside us.
Their goal: To help us determine who we are, and maybe to provide clues to everything from our ability to taste bitter foods to our proclivity for depression and our chances of having a heart attack.
In just the past year, dozens of genetic markers associated with traits have been coming out of labs at a furious pace as genetic knowledge, technology and computing power has hit a critical mass one decade after the race to sequence the human genome was raging.
The question is: As new, direct-to-consumer genetic testing sites begin delivering this fresh and sometimes incomplete DNA news to customers online, how will Big Medicine and government regulators react? And how will they shape what DNA testing sites look like?
Consumer reaction is crucial, too. But with testing companies charging $1,000 to $2,500 for genetic information that is sometimes incomplete, I suspect that most people who aren't both well-heeled and DNA-curious will wait until prices drop and physicians and regulators catch up.
"The recent explosion of genetic testing has blown the door off the old model of researchers testing one gene at a time and then taking it to the clinic," says W. Gregory Feero, senior adviser to the director of genomic medicine at the National Human Genome Research Institute in Bethesda, Maryland.
"We now have to move much faster to make this information relevant and useful," he continues, adding that more effective oversight is required because the results of genetic tests are being interpreted "all over the map."
Feero was the lead author of a commentary in March issue of the Journal of the American Medical Association about the current state of genetic testing. The article's evocative title: "The Genome Gets Personal — Almost."
The catch up has begun. In just the past month, the effect of these new sites has been felt in two arenas that have been caught off-guard by the advent of commercial genetic tests for healthy individuals: Big Medicine (researchers and health-care providers) and the government.
The new wave of online sites has been led by 23andMe.com in California and DeCode Genetics' DeCodeMe.com in Iceland; both opened for business late last year. For $1,000, either will take your spit in a mail-in container, isolate your DNA, and through a secure website will tell you about attributes ranging from restless-leg syndrome to lactose intolerance. A third major company, Navigenics, began offering its more medically oriented service for $2,500 last month.
Days after Navigenics opened for business, Congress overwhelmingly passed the Genetic Information Non-Discrimination Act, legislation that protects Americans from having insurers and employers use their genetic information against them. The legislation had languished for more than a decade.
My sources on Capitol Hill say that the arrival of direct-to-consumer testing was one of the deciding factors in pushing forward the vote. (President Bush is expected to sign the legislation in the next few days.)
Regulators are also stirring. Last week, an advisory committee at the Department of Health and Human Services called for tighter regulation of consumer genetic tests, warning that they were often marketed with little scientific evidence of their usefulness to individuals.
The panel called for the Food and Drug Administration to require tough evaluation standards to prove the usefulness and validity of these tests, and for a mandatory registry of all laboratory tests.
"There are plenty of tests out on the market now that have essentially had no scrutiny of any type," Marc Williams, a member of the panel and the director of the Clinical Genetics Institute at Intermountain Healthcare in Salt Lake City, told the Wall Street Journal.
Previous attempts by the F.D.A. and others to require more oversight have stalled. It's unlikely that much will be done in the waning days of the Bush administration, though Congress is considering two bills — one co-sponsored by Sen. Barack Obama, the Illinois Democrat running for president, and the other by Sen. Edward Kennedy (D-Massachusetts).
In recent weeks, New York State health officials have written to at least six online genetic testing companies, warning them that it is illegal in their state to offer DNA tests without a physician’s approval. Violations could lead to fines and jail time.
No one has been charged with any violation. California officials are also investigating consumer complaints about online testing companies violating a similar law there.
"We welcome responsible regulation," said David Agus, an oncologist at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles and the cofounder of Navigenics. "There needs to be medical standards and a system for validating this information."
Feero agrees. "We have relatively little oversight for this information, which you're seeing for yourself with your heart attack results."
(He is referring to my conflicting results for heart attack risk from the three websites. One rated me as high risk, one as low risk, and the other as medium risk. "You should not be getting contradictory results like that," says Feero.)
Universities and medical groups are also taking steps to move into the new age of genomics, with initiatives to improve education for doctors and a flurry of articles and letters in medical and research journals.
Several major medical centers are developing their own tests vetted by scientists and physicians.
Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, for instance, is developing a custom gene-testing array focused on about 10,000 genetic markers associated with diseases. This is different from "off the shelf" arrays used by retail testing services that do not cover many genetic markers associated with disease.
In New Jersey, meanwhile, the nonprofit Coriell Institute for Medical Research is developing a service that will test for a slate of validated genetic markers, and provide free — yes, free — information and analysis for common diseases. The institute plans to sign up 10,000 people in the next two years, and eventually enlist 100,000 people.
The big medical testing companies are also finding a market for offering traditional physician-ordered tests for genetic markers. Quest Diagnostics, for instance, earns $1 billion a year from molecular diagnostic testing, which includes dozens of DNA tests.
DNA Direct has another model, combining some aspects of traditional medical testing with an online service and products ordered over the internet. DNA Direct offers a range of individual, doctor-approved tests that are ordered one at a time, usually when one's family history suggests a test is needed.
Over the next year or two, we are likely to see a mini-version of the dot-com shakeout occur in genetic testing. This is a moment when experimentation with business models will be as varied and edgy as the science itself, which also will continue to rapidly improve the quality of DNA testing and analysis.
But make no mistake: The long-anticipated age of personalized genomics has arrived — perhaps in fits and starts, but it's here. And it will change not only the practice of medicine and how we take care of ourselves, but also may change how we view our health and who we are.
Some of this material for this series is taken from Experimental Man: What One Man's Body Tells Us about His Destiny, Our Health, and Our Toxic World, by David Ewing Duncan, due out in Oct. 2008.

Also on Portfolio
L.A. Mayor to Answer Limbaugh's Race Swipe
2008 Becoming the Year of the Failed Deal
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineFor one of its latest advertising campaigns, T-Mobile enlisted a creative team that it believed would best reach its young, peer-influenced customers — its users.
"With so many ways for companies to reach them, they're almost overloaded," said Melinda McCrocklin, T-Mobile's advertising manager. "We want to make sure our message breaks through."
So McCrocklin and her team in Bellevue, Washington, created a contest that invites customers to build 30-second spots using graphics, music, and footage of basketball stars Charles Barkley and Dwayne Wade that T-Mobile provided on its site. The lure? A promise to broadcast the winning short during the current N.B.A. playoffs.
"We look at this as getting another creative idea," McCrocklin said. "And if something's there, we'll explore."
While the holy grail of advertising has long been thought to be data targeting—finding the right ad for the right viewer—some brands are literally handing the reins to customers, letting viewers create their own ad messages, or even pick the spots they want to watch.
Not surprisingly, two emerging TV networks, one on cable and one on the Web, are pioneering this ad trend.
Current TV, Al Gore's youth-oriented cable network launched viewer-created advertising messages, or VCAMs, as soon as the channel went live in August 2005. They give viewers the opportunity to help create the ad message served to them.
Then NBC Universal and News Corp. joined forces to build Hulu.com, which streams top shows like Heroes and Medium, as well as more shelf-worn movies like Mulholland Drive, to viewers for free. It went live last month and soon plans to let viewers pick the ads they watch from a pool offered by a single brand: say, a car company or cosmetics giant.
Jean-Paul Colaco, senior vice president of advertising with Hulu.com, said that a major car company will be the first to test the waters. He declined to name the sponsor.
"Users will define the advertising experience they want," Colaco said. "If you increase the amount of choice, [brands] can get direct feedback on the ads and know within the first two days if it's successful."
Hulu declined to elaborate on what it charges its clients for this new service. But it seems safe to assume that advertisers are being asked to pay a premium for this kind of targeted result — particularly since it can take 12 to 16 weeks to create the user-driven contest and get it on the air.
Current TV marketing executive Joshua Katz said that clients who want to run a VCAM on his channel "have to bring a certain amount of money to us."
Since YouTube's skyrocketing success, it's easy to find young, Web-savvy users willing to make short clips they hope their peers will laud. The difference with VCAMs is that the shorts are ads that brands usually have to pay a lot to create.
: On May 6, famed director Steven Spielberg will release his first collaboration with game publisher Electronic Arts -- a clever, innovative Wii game called Boom Blox. Inspired by Spielberg's childhood love of destroying his toys, Boom Blox lets players experience the joy of smashing elaborate towers of blocks by throwing baseballs at them using the Wii remote.
But it's got much, much more. Multiplayer modes that mimic Jenga have up to four players pulling and throwing blocks in fierce competition. And a robust creation mode lets you make your own puzzles, then trade them with friends online.
Left: Gamers of all skill levels can enjoy throwing balls at this tower of blocks: Winding up with the Wiimote, then letting a baseball fly at the tower, is a universally fun experience. But hardcore gamers can approach each of Boom Blox's hundreds of puzzles with an eye towards perfection. One of these blocks will, when struck precisely, cause the whole tower to come tumbling down at once, as shown here.
: A tower of wooden blocks explodes, thanks to some strategically placed red Bomb Blox, as the town full of chickens panics in reaction.
While the core concept of Boom Blox was pure Spielberg, one of the Indiana Jones director's other major contributions to the game design was adding a cast of animal characters and a variety of different settings, like the Old West. "We were on the path of creating a very generic puzzle game, and he came in and really championed having themed worlds and characters you interact with to add that sort of emotional wrapper to it," says Amir Rahimi, the game's producer.
: Having carefully placed his Bomb Blox on this tower, Boots Beaverton celebrates as he knocks down a whole pile of valuable numbered Point Blox.
In addition to the extensive single-player puzzle mode, Boom Blox also contains a great deal of multiplayer content, both cooperative and competitive. In this mode, players compete to knock down as many gold blocks as possible. Each has a specific point value that players will earn if the block hits the ground during their turn. The game's physics engine accurately calculates the blocks' weight, so you'll have a harder time knocking the bigger ones over.
: An army of skeletons bears down upon the kittens' fortified stronghold. Can you hold them off and save the poor cats?
Some of the levels are purely twitch- and timing-based. In this level, you have to defend the adorable bow-tied kittens from the evil skeleton army. If you throw balls at the red Bomb Blox, they'll explode and take down the skeletons. As with all Boom Blox challenges, perfection (less dead cats, in this particular case) will give you higher scores and unlock more and more challenges.
: Dragging this block out of the way will help the mother gorilla get to her little children.
Not only do all of the different character blocks have different behaviors, they also act differently depending on what other characters are around. In the case of the mother gorilla, if her babies are on the screen, she'll do anything she can to get to them. This sets up some clever puzzles in which you have to gently move blocks around in order to create a path that Mom Gorilla can follow to her brood.
: This would represent a very bad move.
Boom Blox isn't all about wanton destruction. Just as many of the levels involve precision movements. In a mode reminiscent of Jenga but significantly more complex, you pull individual bricks out of a tower without letting it fall over. Some multiplayer games have blocks with negative values, and if you accidentally pull them out, you lose points.
: The dogs are attempting to defend their castle from the army of invading skeletons. Don't let them take your green Gem Blox away!
The real meat of Boom Blox is the game's extensive creation mode. You can edit any of the game's puzzles and change things up. It could be as simple as swapping out a bowling ball for the baseball -- try throwing that and see how much easier it is to take down a tower!
But you can also create your own elaborate puzzles with a whole variety of different goals. You can then upload them to EA's servers, where other players can download your creations and attempt to solve them -- then tweak them and re-upload them as slightly different puzzles, if they so desire.
: So many golden Point Blox, so few bombs. Where can you place them to ensure that this entire structure blows up in a chain reaction?
"In my opinion, part of what makes Steven Spielberg the master filmmaker that he is is his ability to spot and deliver what is universally compelling," says Rahimi. "The core of this game, that urge to build something up and break it down, exists with just about everybody in this world. So when you pick up that Wii remote and start bashing stuff down, it satisfies something that's really primal and really deep.
"When I heard the idea, it made perfect sense. In my mind, his credibility as a gamemaker just about tripled that day, because he figured out an idea that would be a fun videogame. And that's the mark of someone who can really deliver entertainment."
1937: The German passenger zeppelin Hindenburg explodes and crashes while landing at Lakehurst, New Jersey, killing 36 people and dooming the future of commercial trans-Atlantic zeppelin service.
The Hindenburg (which might have been named Adolf Hitler if not for the strong anti-Nazi views held by Hugo Eckener, director of the Zeppelin Company) and its sister ship, Graf Zeppelin II, are the largest aircraft ever to fly. They stretched 804 feet nearly the length of the largest trans-Atlantic ocean liners of the period.
Although other nations, notably Great Britain and the United States, built rigid airships, the German technology was superior. The Hindenburg’s latticework airframe was constructed of a lightweight alloy composed largely of aluminum and copper. Sixteen gas cells expanded to a capacity of 7,062,100 cubic feet for lift, and the airship was propelled by four 16-cylinder diesel engines, allowing it to carry 72 passengers and 60 crew across the Atlantic Ocean in just three days at a brisk 135 kilometers per hour (84 mph).
And it carried them in comfort. The passenger accommodations, contained in the airship's hull rather than its gondola, were designed by Fritz August Breuhaus, who had done similar work with Pullman railroad coaches and ocean liners. Hindenburg at one point carried a grand piano on board, although this was later removed to save weight.
Hindenburg, designated LZ-129 by its builder and named for Field Marshal (and Weimar President) Paul von Hindenburg, was designed to be filled with nonflammable helium as the lifting agent. But when the United States, which possessed all the world's natural helium sources, imposed an embargo on selling the gas to Nazi Germany, the company turned to the far-more-combustible hydrogen.
The exact cause of the Lakehurst crash has never been established. Given the strained relationship that existed between Germany and the United States at the time, sabotage was an early and popular theory. It seems likelier, though, that a lightning strike, or sparking on the hull that ignited leaking hydrogen, was to blame.
Whatever the reason, the spectacular crash killed 35 of the 96 passengers and crew aboard, as well as one member of the ground crew. It also killed the trans-Atlantic zeppelin business.
The industry might have survived, at least until World War II, if not for the intense media coverage of the crash, highlighted by radio reporter Herbert Morrison’s anguished cry as he broadcast from the scene: "Oh, the humanity!"
(Source: Various)
: SAN MATEO, California -- Maker Faire has a reputation as the premiere destination for people who like to build stuff of all shapes, kinds and scales.
This year's Bay Area iteration of the event didn't disappoint, with tens of thousands of nerds, hackers and crafters descending on the San Mateo fairgrounds outside San Francisco for two days of circuit boards, fire and do-it-yourself demonstrations.
With nearly 500 exhibitors presenting their creations, the Faire can be bewildering, so we sent a crack team from the Wired.com office down Highway 101 to cherry-pick the 12 coolest projects that we spotted over the weekend.
Left: Members of LUNAR, the Livermore Unit of the National Association of Rocketry, sent rockets flying into the air. They also provided the lighter side of rocket science. In this shot, some of the group's junior members give it a go.
: Bay Area husband-and-wife art team, Dan Das Mann and Karen Cusolito led the creation of these 30-foot-tall sculptures along with more than 100 collaborators from the Headless Point Artists' Retreat and Labor Camp.
Originally created for Burning Man, the two sculptures, Ecstasy, the feminine sculpture, and Mambatu, the squatting man, guarded the food court at the Maker's Faire.
The oversize figures are part of a larger eight-figure installation called Crude Awakening.
: An enormous skull greeted visitors to the Faire, 9-feet-tall and made out of e-waste. Its eyes and teeth were flat-panel screens.
A projector mounted on the skull played a series of sci-fi classics like The Last Man on Earth. Faire-goers could even text the skull and hear their message read aloud by one of hundreds of synthesized voices. Self-powered, it moved to the theme from the movie Jaws.
Its maker, James Burgett, describes himself as a "self-educated electronics recycler and generally strange guy who gives away computers."
: Acme Muffineering presented their whimsical take on personal transportation, which is essentially an electric vehicle set inside a metal "muffin" tin. The group says the muffins are about 18 times the size of your average muffin, but decidedly less delicious. On the other hand, the muffin cars can speed up to 18 mph, which is beyond the reach of your ordinary morning confection.
: A 17-foot robotic giraffe with webcams in his eyes and special touch-sensitive sensors proved a crowd pleaser over the weekend.
"Hello, my name is Russell," the electric giraffe, aka Rave Raffe, said to a crowd of children.
Russell rewarded kids tickling his sensors by saying, "He. He. He. That tickles," and "That feels nice." The whimsical giraffe is the creation of Russell Pinnington, after whom the robot was named, and Lindz Lawlor, who provides the base for its voice. You might have caught earlier versions of the beast at Burning Man over the last couple of years.
: Husband-and-wife industrial-arts team Dan Das Mann and Karen Cusolito presented their 6-ton, 20-foot-tall sculpture Epiphany to the Maker Faire.
The team considers the fire-spewing figure a manifestation of the current state of an oil-dependent economy.
"She could be fearful or hopeful, worshipping either a tree or oil derrick," Cusolito said, "but either way, she's engulfed in a state of fervor."
Fire technicians Danya Parkinson and Joe Bard of art collective Pyrokinetics were responsible for rigging Epiphany's pyrotechnics: They installed a pilot light in the cardiac region of her 20-foot-tall frame that, when triggered, radiates fire outwards through her hands. The blazes are supposed to mimic a fiery vascular system.
: Any good carnival wouldn't be complete without rides, and at the Maker Faire, a 21st-century experiment in artistry, science and sideshow acts, the Unwheeldy, a two-wheeled cycle, was in high demand.
In the photo, Festival-goers Alex Woodman and Taylor Johnston, both 12, pedal the tandem two-seater.
Bay Area computer software engineer Matthew Blaine, 34, co-designed and built the vehicle, which he called a "giant tandem dicycle." The dicycle's wheels are each 9-feet tall and positioned 5-feet apart from one another, set in a steel frame.
The hardest part about building a monstrous bike? Finding super-size materials. "Most bike shops don't carry giant, 4-foot spokes," Blaine said. "So we made them out of salvaged steel."
: Stanford neuroscience grad student Alan Rorie showed off his hand-built, steam-powered time machine.
Created out of copper, sheets of steel and nitric-acid etched brass plates, the sculpture is hooked to a steam engine with a steam boiler to power its movement. Of course, Rorie's machines don't actually bend the laws of physics, but he credits his creations with helping to pass the time and "keeping [him] sane." His steampunky time machine, or "dihemispheric chronaether agitator," as he calls it, was handcrafted over the last few months.
: If one thing is true about the crowd at Maker Faire, it's that they love robots. If two things are true about Makers, it's that they love robots fighting.
This year, the world's largest robotic fighting league, RoboGames, put on an exhibition called the ComBot Cup. You've undoubtedly seen RoboGames bots in action, so we went backstage to snap some pictures of the competitors retooling their machines after several rounds of combat.
Here, R.D. van Noy and Scott Kincaid worked on their heavyweight robot "S.J." on Saturday.
: This year, the world's largest robotic fighting league, RoboGames, put on an exhibition called the ComBot Cup. You've undoubtedly seen RoboGames bots in action, so we went backstage to snap some pictures of the competitors retooling their machines after several rounds of combat.
Backstage at the RoboGames competition at Maker Faire, Curt Meyers pushes his robot, "Jaws of Death," into position.
: At sunset Saturday, the emphasis of the fair shifted from making to burning. One group, Interpretative Arson, built a "large-scale fire toy that translates anyone's movements into fire."
Functionally, the 2πR project consisted of a series of propane tanks arrayed in a circle around a central platform. The platform was mounted with ground-based sensors that were rigged to torches atop the propane tanks. A person standing on the platform could point in the direction of a tank, thereby covering the sensor, causing the torches in that direction to explode into fire.
The group allowed audience members to get into the central platform and make the fire dance, like this young boy.
: Russell the Giraffe lights up after dark, an indication that he was originally designed as a sideshow for raves. Inside that friendly exterior lurks a 1,000-watt sound system for all your electronic music needs.
Liberty City has always been a strangely lonely place.
Sure, there have always been plenty of virtual citizens in the various Grand Theft Auto cities crafted by Rockstar Games. You were constantly running into caustic gangsters, cynical cops and old folks with walkers who dove out of the way when you rolled up on the sidewalk.
But there were never any other real people there -- no live humans. In meatspace terms, when you played GTA, you played alone. It was always a single-player game: no multiplayer mode, and not even an option to engage in co-op thuggery alongside a friend.
When you think about it, this is superweird. The first GTA debuted in 2001, right around the time that games were moving aggressively online. We were constantly told that artificial-intelligence characters were too stilted -- that the only way to have realistic, unpredictable play was to let gamers engage with other folks online. Hey, Halo proved that online play could extend the shelf life of a console game for, like, 19 years or something, right?
Yet GTA remained stubbornly, even defiantly, single-player. It was as if the Rockstar designers were so proud of their painstakingly crafted metropolises that they didn't want any other messy, mostly-big-bags-of-water humans in there screwing things up.
Until GTA IV arrived -- and Liberty City went online. So I duly logged in, wondering, What the heck is this going to be like? Do I need other people in here? Do I want other people in here?
It turns out that I do, and I do. For my first game, I headed into Hangman's Noose mode, where you team up with other players to accomplish a mission -- in this case, meeting up with a crime boss at the airport and keeping the cops away from him.
It felt like being in a Twilight Zone version of Grand Theft Auto. Everything was the same, but ... different. Much as aficionados of multiplayer gaming would have predicted, my teammates pulled off some hilariously unexpected moves: They'd drive in more spastic or more cunningly accurate patterns than I'd ever seen -- or attempted -- inside the game; they'd perform seemingly kamikaze moves with an AK-47 that the artificial intelligence would never have dared.
Better yet, multiplayer missions give you some subtle yet fascinating new ways to experience the city. At one point, two partners and I piled into a Ferrari while another of my teammates raced across the city. Since I didn't have to drive, I was able to enjoy some sightseeing -- zooming my camera around to different, Hollywood-like angles -- that was never possible when I was the one steering.
The sheer scale of Liberty City makes for online console play that's far more open-ended than anything I'd ever before seen. Most console multiplayer gaming takes place on fairly small maps. But with the mission modes of GTA IV, you're given a really big chunk of sandbox to play in, so there are seemingly zillions of different ways your teammates can accomplish a mission.
This leads to some quite funny incidents. During one mission, one of my partners and I arrived at a waterfront checkpoint -- him in a battered van, me in a sports car. We got out of our vehicles wondering, Hey, where's the third member of our team? So we stood around for two or three minutes, puzzled, admiring the morning sunshine. Suddenly, off in the distance, we saw a car racing toward us. It was a cop car -- and it was on fire. Our third team member emerged triumphantly. I'm still wondering what the hell happened to him.
There are 15 different modes of online play, most of which are pretty good. One clear winner is GTA Race, which blends car racing with combat: You can assault one another's vehicles, and even carjack one another. The result is exquisite madness, with drivers jumping out of wrecked compact cars and in 18-wheel trucks, then tearing off down crowded sidewalks while followed by lowriders hurling Molotov cocktails. If, like me, you're a subpar driver, you can simply abandon the goal and become a machine of revenge -- setting up a roadblock, waiting for other drivers to approach, then blasting them to pieces. This is food for the soul.
Other modes, however, are more of a letdown. I found the death-match games underwhelming, in part because GTA's targeting system isn't very fluid, but also because the maps weren't well designed. They possess few of the nooks and crannies you get in a great Call of Duty or Halo map.
Overall, though, GTA IV will make you glad that Rockstar finally let other people into Grand Theft Auto's world. This city's big enough for the both of us.
- - -
Clive Thompson is a contributing writer for The New York Times Magazine and a regular contributor to Wired and New York magazines. Look for more of Clive's observations on his blog, collision detection.
Steven Spielberg knows a thing or two about action games. He advised on the development of the Medal of Honor series, based on his film Saving Private Ryan, and he claims to be on his second play-through of the processor-punishing PC title Crysis. So it's a bit surprising to learn that for his first venture as a videogame creative director, the man behind Indiana Jones and Jurassic Park is making not a photorealistic shooter but a cross between Tetris and Jenga. It all goes back to when he was a kid, Spielberg says. He'd spend hours setting up his electric trains so that the locomotives would crash into one another. Now, with the help of a design team at Electronic Arts, Spielberg hopes to recapture that spirit of creative destruction in Boom Blox, out in May.
Inspired by a Wii tennis session, the auteur got the idea of combining Nintendo's innovative Wiimote motion-sensing controller with his youthful delight in mayhem. In the first few levels, you hurl balls at a pile of blocks. The aim? To knock it down. But it's not just mindless destruction — you have to think strategically about which blocks to take out in order to bring the whole stack down quickly. "When you pick up that Wiimote and start bashing stuff, it satisfies something primal," says Amir Rahimi, the game's senior producer. Game | Life: Episode Twelve: In this week's episode, Steven Spielberg makes a foray into the game business with Boom Blox, and Chris Kohler reviews Mario Kart Wii. For more, visit video.wired.com.
Spielberg didn't just hand off a high concept and then disengage. "He weighed in on everything from the look of the characters and environments to the way the balls move through the air to the different game modes," Rahimi says.
One of those modes challenges players to extract blocks from a complex tower without the whole thing collapsing. Basically, it's Jenga — except that in this digitized version, the buildings are inhabited by cute little creatures. That detail was 100 percent Spielberg. "We were on the path of creating a very generic puzzle game," Rahimi says. "He brought in the idea of having characters you interact with to give it an emotional wrapper."
If the game is as fun as it looks, it may go some way toward erasing those unpleasant memories of the 1983 E.T. game for Atari 2600.

Also on Portfolio
Ballmer Pushed Out? Yeah, Like Bush Will Fire Cheney
Baby Boomer Memorabilia Topping Out; Time to Collect '90s Stuff?
Subscribe to Portfolio magazineNo Microhoo? Shareholders of Yahoo are clearly unhappy.
Shares of Yahoo fell as much as 19 percent in early trading Monday, to a little more than $23, although still above the level they were at before Microsoft disclosed its $31-per-share offer on January 31.
"The only question is whether this is really the bottom," says Eric Savitz on the Tech Trader Daily blog.
In lowering his rating on Yahoo shares to "sell," Mark Mahaney, an analyst at Citigroup, wonders why a deal was not forged. Noting that a price of $35-per-share (the midpoint between $33 and $37) amounted to only $3 billion, or 7 percent of the initial bid, "it's surprising that a 7 percent solution couldn't be found."
Henry Blodget on Silicon Alley Insider, says, "Despite Yahoo's suggestion to the contrary, we have yet to hear from a single Yahoo shareholder who publicly supports Yahoo's board's decision to hold fast at $37."
Yahoo shares have not been at $37 since January 2006.
Kara Swisher on All Things Digital says that some top Yahoo executives are also dismayed that merger discussions collapsed over the weekend.
In particular, the description in the New York Times that some Yahoo executives "were high-fiving each other for defeating Microsoft's bid," caused consternation.
"That was very telling, if it was true," one executive told Swisher. "It shows a complete lack of connection to the balance of the company."
The proposed merger had drawn its share of critics, who charged that integration and cultural issues would outweigh potential benefits from combining the two. But now that the deal won't happen, the outlook for both companies is as dire as it was three months ago, before the merger was proposed.
"Without Yahoo, Microsoft has no compelling means of becoming the No. 2 player in online advertising," said Sandeep Aggarwal, an analyst at Collins Stewart. "And without Microsoft, Yahoo has no magic wand to lift its stock back above the mid-20s."
This much is certain: Yahoo's stock will take a hard tumble this week as arbitrageurs and others counting on a Microsoft buyout relinquish their shares at a steep discount to last week's levels. "The word crater comes to mind," said Rob Enderle, president of tech advisory firm Enderle Group.
Yahoo had already been facing at least one shareholder lawsuit after it refused to accept Microsoft's proposal. It's likely to face more lawsuits, as well as other pressure from activist investors.
One of them, Eric Jackson of Ironfire Capital, is urging Yahoo shareholders to vote against all of the company's board members when they are up for election later this year. Jackson says that he's started hearing from more Yahoo shareholders since Microsoft dropped its bid.
"They're surprised and extremely frustrated," Jackson said. "They were certain a friendly deal was going to happen."
To appease those shareholders, Yahoo needs to improve its financial performance dramatically. The company unveiled a plan in March showing how a new search technology and an open-source approach to software development would help boost its revenue and cash flow. But analysts and investors have signaled that they aren't impressed.
The best short-term hope for Yahoo to increase its cash flow is to ally itself with the very company that has put it in dire straits—Google. Yahoo and Google may enter into a limited ad partnership that will run Google ads on keywords where Yahoo makes less money.
That could help bring Yahoo new revenue in coming quarters. But it could also drive away advertisers who are on Yahoo precisely because its search engine, which is significantly less popular than Google's, charges less for keywords.
Shares of Microsoft are up nearly 3 percent today, and its stock will likely fare much better in the near term. But longer-term threats to its profit growth remain. Vista software sales are slowing; Apple is gaining market share in desktops and laptops; and Google is pushing free versions of office-productivity software, threatening Microsoft Office's cash cow.
Microsoft has invested heavily in online advertising, only to see its share of the search market—like Yahoo's—decline steadily. The division that includes Microsoft's online-ad business has posted steadily growing operating losses for nine straight quarters. In aggregate, it's racked up $1.7 billion in losses since early 2006.
Such pressures drove Microsoft to pursue Yahoo. The $31-a-share bid that Microsoft made in February offered a 62 percent premium over Yahoo's stock price at the time. But it also discounted 32 percent off the $41-a-share bid that Microsoft had previously made for Yahoo, a bid that was also rebuffed by Yahoo's board.
Last week, Microsoft raised its offer to $33 a share, but Yahoo's board held out for $37.
"I think Yahoo misread Microsoft," said Enderle. "People usually bid low and then raise their bids. But Microsoft didn't want talks to drag on, so its strategy was to get the deal done as quickly as possible." Yahoo, however, sensed that protracted talks could strengthen its hand, and so it held firm to a higher bid. "Yahoo thought Microsoft was lowballing it," Enderle said, "and they missed the boat."
So, like Yahoo, Microsoft must now scramble. Ballmer has outlined other possible acquisitions it could make if the Yahoo deal fell through: Facebook, Time Warner's AOL, and News Corp.'s MySpace. Facebook is also determined to remain independent, while AOL has talked with Yahoo about a deal. That leaves MySpace as the easiest partner for Microsoft.
Or Microsoft could simply bide its time and come back to Yahoo after its shareholders start screaming. In doing so, it would follow Larry Ellison's playbook in Oracle's acquisition of BEA Systems. Oracle walked away from BEA after its bid was rejected, then talked a lot about how hard it pushed for its bid. Once BEA investors complained, Oracle bought BEA at a lower price.
"Microsoft can come back again," said Aggarwal, "especially if Yahoo doesn't do very well on its own."
Monster.com founder Jeff Taylor helped you find a job, and helped ease you into middle age. Now he wants to help you build the last web page you'll ever need.
Tributes.com is scheduled for a soft launch in June. It aims to provide a central location to house online memorials for those who have passed on. It's starting with $4.3 million in funding, with The Wall Street Journal as a lead investor.
Taylor, who retired from Monster.com in 2005, says Monster was intended to take the jobs section of newspaper's classified ads online. So online obituaries seemed like an inevitable next step.
"I'm extremely bullish about this business -- it's not a question of if it will explode, but when," says Taylor, who spun the business off his baby boomer social networking site Eons.com. "I've watched and built a career on migrating the whole newspaper to the web, and the obituary section is the laggard category."
The site comes as the funeral industry is learning to target the public's desire to grieve online for the dearly departed. On social networking sites like MySpace and Facebook, online memorials are springing up organically to give friends, family members and strangers a place to mourn, and even small, family-owned funeral homes have begin offering web-based memorials for their customers.
The site sets itself apart from memorial sites like SweetMemoriesSite.com, ChristianMemorials.com and PreciousMemoriesAndMore.com in two ways. First, people can find information on those who've died with a name search from a database that includes the entire Social Security Death Index since 1936 (which Legacy.com already offers). And second, the site plans to market more to the funeral industry than other sites, where individuals pay for tributes.
Tributes will allow people to verify deaths, get memorial service information, and leave tributes and messages.
"Until Tributes, people had to have very specific information -- where their friends died and what funeral home handled the services -- to find out what happened and leave memorials," said John Heald, a funeral director who is working with Tributes.com. "We are building a channel to the funeral industry to build our site with them, so we can be an aggregator for all the obituaries."
Tributes plans to sell its service to funeral homes that will then package an online tribute with the other services offered to the bereaved. Obits will stay up indefinitely, while condolences may come down after five to 10 years.
"We need to learn from MySpace. For example, when a teenager dies there are thousands of condolences," Heald says. "It's a new, important, effective way of grieving."
The death-care industry is ready to embrace an idea like Tributes.com, says Robin Heppell, who coaches funeral directors on how to use the web to promote their business and to make their services more valuable.
"People who spend the winter in Florida log on to faraway websites during the winter to check to see who died back home," the Vancouver-based funeral director and consultant says. "Most funeral homes have websites now, and those that don't are looking at setting up."
Mortuaries with well-established websites, like Pellerin Funeral Home in Louisiana and Haskett Funeral Homes in Canada, say the amount of traffic they get, and the way the websites are used, surprise even them. Both family-owned businesses have learned to upload video tributes to their sites, and keep a condolence page open to collect messages long after the funerals.
"I have friends who check the website every day to see who's died, and our parish sheriff leaves a tribute for every one," says Debbie Gauthier, who manages the Pellerin website. "We know it's one of the best things we can do for the family -- the tributes and condolences are comforting to people long after the funeral has ended."
There's definitely a hunger for online memorials. The Pellerin website includes a longstanding video tribute to Pope John Paul, who died in April 2005, that still gathers many hits a day. "You can watch that one forever, we won't be taking it down," Gauthier says.
And Heppell points to the memorial page on Facebook for Stefanie Rengel, a 14-year-old Toronto girl murdered in January. "Ten thousand people offered condolences, memories and comfort," Heppell says.
The industry is already learning that a decedent's self-created MySpace or Facebook profile can be jarring for the families of the recently deceased. Heppell advised funeral homes to "have one of the deceased friends look at their page first, because there can be suggestive photos and explicit language that the families aren't ready to deal with."
Taylor, who left Monster.com in 2005 to launch Eons.com, a website popular with aging baby boomers, started his newest venture after noticing that there was no central repository for online memorials where one could grieve and remember -- and verify the loss of -- a loved one.
He spun Tributes off Eons as a separate entity, and sought investors to give Tributes five to 10 years to take off.
"Jeff always had his eye on Monster's obits, and he noticed the obits weren't getting any traction for getting online, even when every other section of a traditional newspaper had made the transition," Haney says. "When he evolved a strategy for Eons as a lifestyle brand for boomers, he saw that the grieving groups are very popular at Eons."
By harvesting the U.S. Death Index, Tributes will automatically have a listing for everyone who dies, or who has died since 1936.
The website also plans to offer round-the-clock grief support groups.
"Traditional support groups that meet once a week aren't as valuable to members as the 24/7 online groups," Haney says.
1992: Id Software releases Wolfenstein 3-D, and it launches a huge computer-game category.
Wolfenstein 3-D may not have been the very first "first-person shooter," as the genre came to be known, but it was by far the most successful. Technically the genre goes back to the '70s, but no one really paid any attention to it. Even id released an earlier FPS called Catacombs 3D, but again, it wasn't nearly as good as Wolfenstein.
But through massive online dissemination of the game's shareware version, Wolfenstein 3D (the hyphen was later dropped from the name) introduced millions to an immersive world in which the action seemed to be happening from the player's perspective.
"It was an incredible sensation, really unlike anything gamers had seen before," said Jamie Madigan, who helps operate the GameSpy Network's 3D Action website. "You could move smoothly in 360 degrees. You felt like you were there."
"Everything that's followed in [its] footsteps has just been a modification of that basic style," id Software CEO Todd Hollenshead said in 2001.
Players in the game assume the role of an American commando battling Nazis and their supernatural servants. It was banned in Germany because of its use of Nazi symbols, like the swastika, and music, like the "Horst Wessel Lied."
Wolfenstein 3D did more than define a genre. It also launched a company, id Software of Mesquite, Texas, which leveraged Wolfenstein 3D's success into a franchise of wildly successful first-person shooters, including the seminal Doom and Quake series.
These games, in turn, begat a slew of sequels, imitators and adaptations, from Half-Life to Max Payne.
Wired.com Game|Life blogger Earnest Cavalli added, "The key to the whole Wolfenstein thing is that its success -- which was massive -- paved the way for ... thousands of games that mimicked them, transforming the PC into a gaming system best known for FPS titles. Plus, who doesn't like killing Nazis?"
(Source: Various)
: We asked our readers to submit the coolest, hardest-to-find gadgets they could think of. After two weeks, these are the favorites. There are far too many gems to include here, so visit the rare-gadget submission page to browse more than 100 entries.
Left: Smallest Mechanical Pocket Calculator
Submitted by Anonymous
Submitter's comment:
"Designed by an Austrian prisoner (Curt Herzstark) in KZ Buchenwald during World War II, it remains the smallest pure mechanical calculating device on Earth. Its more than 700 pieces are all made out of metal, nearly all types of calculations are possible: Enter the number, turn the crank, and out comes the result."
:
An Enigma!
Submitted by Mokum Von Amsterdam
The Enigma machine was most famously used by the Nazis to create encrypted messages during World War II. Allied forces were able to decrypt many important Enigma messages, elevating its significance in the history books.
Submitter's comment:
"The Enigma machine based its cipher capabilities on a series of wired rotor wheels and a plugboard. Through a web of internal wiring, each of the 26 input contacts on the rotor was connected to a different output contact. The wiring connections of one rotor differed from the connections on any other rotor."
:
Widelux
This is our own submission, but many of our readers voted for it, so we're including it here. The Widelux has a swing-lens that takes beautiful wide-angle shots. The lens preserves perspective so that faces don't appear distorted as with most wide-angle lenses. They went out of production in the '80s and are a rare treat for camera junkies.
:
Loco Box "The Choker" Compressor Pedal
Submitted by Alamo Death Toll
Submitter's comment:
"Jason Falkner, guitarist and producer, mentioned it in Tape Op magazine: 'It's an incredible-sounding foot compressor. Whomever I tell about this -- an engineer or producer -- they go on the hunt for it.... Everything on my four-track recordings went into that Choker.' After that article, the value of this impossible-to-find pedal skyrocketed."
:
Pixar Image Computer
Submitted by Dan
Submitter's comment:
"Way before Pixar made movies, they made parallel-image computers. Wikipedia says fewer than 300 of these were ever sold, and I think that may be an overestimate."
:
Nixie Tubes
Submitted by Anonymous
Submitter's comment:
"These outdated display devices from the 1950s use 10 number-shaped cathodes suspended in a thin gas to create glowing digits, and are every steampunk toymaker's dream."
: Vectrex, Vector Graphics Home Video Console
Submitted by Jager
Submitter's comment:
"While I never actually got to own one, I used to play with this machine in Sears whenever we were at the mall (and c'mon, it was the '80s -- when weren't you at the mall?).
"Fun and addictive -- like most videogames of the time -- but original, as it used an actual built-in vector-graphics monitor for gameplay (as opposed to "raster" graphics). Fun fun fun!"
:
Golden DeLorean
Submitted by Anonymous
Submitter's comment:
"American Express originally intended to build 100 of these gold-plated DMC-12s as a Christmas 1981 advertising promotion, but only two were ever built, and a third from spare parts."
:
Nagra SNST
Submitted by David A. Goldfarb
Submitter's comment:
"Nagra Cold War spy recorder originally designed for undercover surveillance during the Kennedy administration, later widely used in law enforcement. It uses tape the same width as cassette tape but on open reels and packs automatic dynamic level control and audio-compression circuitry into its machined aluminum 145 x 100 x 28 mm case."
:
ARP 2600
Submitted by Chris Yewell
Submitter's comment:
"The ARP 2600 is without a doubt one of the finest analog synthesizers ever. It is very popular and has been used by artists for more than 20 years in all forms of music, especially today's electronic music. The 2600 is a professional, semi-modular, monophonic, patch-cable synthesizer that competed directly against the first professional Modular Moog synths during the early 1970s. From Vintage Synth Explorer.
:
PXL 2000 Deluxe Audio Cassette Video System
Submitted by MvE
Submitter's comment:
"What makes this camera unique? In 1987, Fisher-Price manufactured a video camera capable of recording audio and video onto a standard Type II audio cassette. The image quality topped out at 160Khz (compared with 2.5Mhz for a normal signal), so the image comes out grainy and ghostly. A favorite these days for film students wanting an ethereal and artsy feel. Find yours on eBay."
Whether Iron Man lives up to the standard set by movies like Spider-Man or flounders like an armor-clad Daredevil, the flick boasts a hidden gem for comics fans. Like most movies based on Marvel characters, it will feature a cameo by comic book legend Stan Lee.
Lee, along with artists like Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, created many of the Marvel superheroes soaring across movie screens, including the Fantastic Four, the X-Men and the Incredible Hulk.
Wired.com talked with Lee about making his beloved cameos, competing with William Shatner and popping up with a bevy of blondes in Iron Man.
Wired: I understand you're a busy man, so I'm going to cut to the chase here. You obviously have an incredible body of work, but I'd like to talk specifically about your work in the field of cameos.
Stan Lee: Oh, that's my specialty.
Wired: There's a compilation on YouTube of your cameos in Marvel movies (see embedded clip).
Lee: Really?
Wired: Yeah, it's really fun to watch.
Lee: You know, thing that's good about it, it's a field that I seem to have all to myself. There's no competition.
Wired: Certainly not in the world of superhero movies. I assume you have a cameo in Iron Man?
Lee: A great one, wait till you see it. It's very funny, I think.
Wired: Do you have any lines?
Lee: Yeah, actually I have a line.
Wired: Do you want to tell?
Lee: I don't want to spoil your fun. I'll give you this much of a clue: I'm standing with my arms around three beautiful blond girls. You're saying to yourself, "What on earth can that be all about?" You'll have to see the movie to find out!
Wired: Did you get to pick the girls?
Lee: They were supplied to me. I tried to take as long as I could, we did a thousand takes. I kept making a mistake on purpose each time.
Wired: [Laughs.]
Lee: I'm only kidding. It was really great, and it went well. Usually you go to a movie set, sometimes the people are nervous, or worried or they're depressed. This was such a pleasant and happy set. Everyone enjoyed what they were doing, knowing that it was turning out great.
Wired: When you do a cameo, do they just zoom you in and zoom you out of there, or do you hang out all day with the stars?
Lee: I don't really hang out that long, because I don't have that much time. But it takes a few hours, and even though the cameo might be something that's on screen for a few seconds, they're so cautious. They think they'll need me at, let's say three o'clock. They'll ask me to get there at 11 in the morning so that they'll know I'm there.... So I go in my trailer, and I wait! And then, about an hour before the time comes to do the cameo, I go to makeup. And there's all kinds of makeup put on my face, as everybody does in the movie. As if it really matters if my nose is a little shiny or something.
And then I go to wardrobe, and it doesn't matter what the role is, it could be the simplest thing. I could be a guy walking in the street, but I'm not allowed to wear my own clothes. Wardrobe has to decide for me. It's really fun, it's a totally indescribable experience.
Wired: How did you get into this? Did you go to the people making the movies and say, "Hey, I created these characters, can I be in the movie?" or did they come to you?
Lee: Let's see, I think the first one was in the X-Men movie, I think Bryan Singer, the director, said, "Hey, how'd you like to be in one of the scenes?" I said, "I never say 'no.'"
Wired: That's why you're so busy.
Lee: And he put me in the background, selling hot dogs, so I was only in there for a second of the film. Then, somebody else got the idea. They're always asking, they were always asking me. Of course now, when I meet anybody who's in the movie business, the first thing I say is, "I'm available." I'm thinking of taking out a full-page ad in Variety.
Wired: Do you have a favorite cameo you've done?
Lee: Oh, I love 'em all. I particularly like the one I did in Spider-Man where I spoke to Peter Parker for a minute, I told him that one man can make a difference.
I liked the one I did in The Incredible Hulk where Lou Ferrigno and I came out of a building, and I was telling him not to worry, I'd protect him. And I liked the one that I did in The Fantastic Four where they didn't allow me to come to the wedding of Reed and Sue.
I liked where I was the postman in the first Fantastic Four movie. The more I can say and do the more I like it. I really am a ham.
Wired: You created Willy Lumpkin, that postman character in Fantastic Four. What was that like, playing a character you made up?
Lee: Well, I'm not sure I was happy with that. The way I had him drawn, he was even funnier-looking than I am. But it was fun.
Wired: You also do voiceover work, I remember very fondly your work on Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends. I think arguably that was the best part of the show.
Lee: Yeah, I've often narrated shows, or I do introductions to the shows, perhaps I even play a little role. In The Simpsons, I played myself in an episode. As I say, it is such fun. And if you're only doing little things, you don't have to worry about carrying the weight of the show. It's like you have all the fun and none of the responsibility.
Wired: Do you prefer doing voiceover work or cameo work?
Lee: Oh, both. In fact, I would love to be in a picture, I would love to really have a role in a film, but the problem is I don't have the time. You can't just come for a few hours then go home, it's day after day after day. So all I can do is get this hamminess out of my system doing cameos whenever they let me.
Wired: There's that Doctor Strange movie coming out -- I really think you could go out for the lead there.
Lee: [Laughs.] A few years ago, I sure would have loved to. A few years? Maybe 40 or 50 years. I'd have loved to have played any of 'em!
You know, the one role I always would have wished to play was in Spider-Man, J. Jonah Jameson. I always kind of modeled him after me: He's not too bright, and he's a loudmouth, and he's wrong about everything. I could have played that superbly.
Wired: I think if there is someone out there who is in the cameo biz as well, it would be William Shatner. I just want to say that if you two ever end up with cameos in the same movie, I will buy that DVD.
Lee: He had this television interview show for a while, and I was one of his guests. He interviewed me for a half-hour or so, and I found him to be the nicest guy, and a bright guy, and a very good interviewer. And that was the only time I had met him, but I was very impressed with him, and I would hate to think that I now gotta compete with him in these cameos. I'd better get an agent! He's probably already got one.
Wired: Thanks a lot -- I look forward to seeing Iron Man.
Lee: Sure thing, and if you hear of anybody who's looking for a cameo person, you now know my number.
1887: The Rev. Hannibal Goodwin files a patent application for camera film on celluloid rolls. He beats the Eastman Kodak company by two years and sets off a 27-year legal battle.
Goodwin was an Episcopal rector in Newark, New Jersey. He liked projecting lantern-slides of Bible stories to his Sunday school classes and wanted to try making his own. However, he found the intricacies of glass-plate photography too daunting and decided he could invent a better medium for holding the photographic emulsion.
He was a 65-year old clergyman, not a professional chemist, but two years of tinkering in his attic laboratory finally produced a flexible film from nitrocellulose, a trademarked plastic introduced in 1869. Without a clear understanding of the chemistry involved, he filed a vaguely worded patent application.
Meanwhile, George Eastman introduced rolls of photographic film in 1888, but the rolls were made of paper. Developing the negatives was costly, time-consuming and often produced streaked or blurry images. Professional photographers and serious amateur first adopters would have none of it.
Eastman set his chemist Henry Reichenbach to develop a film medium that would be clear, light, flexible, capable of holding the photochemical emulsion, and resistant to folding, shriveling, stretching, wrinkles, blemishes, bubbles and streaks. Quite a task.
Reichenbach wound up developing a formula remarkably similar to Goodwin's, with one additional ingredient: camphor. He filed a tightly worded patent application in April 1889.
Goodwin's application had been languishing with multiple revisions required to get it in proper form and specificity. The Reichenbach patent was approved in December 1889. The new Kodak film went on sale the next year and was an immediate success.
Goodwin, now retired, contested the Eastman-Reichenbach patent. The case wound its way through the labyrinthine administrative patent process until 1898, when Goodwin was finally awarded his patent. Goodwin died on what is considered the last day of the 19th century: Dec. 31, 1900.
His widow sold the Goodwin company to Anthony & Scovill (which became Ansco in 1907). The new company produced a small amount of film based on Goodwin's original patent, and then it sued Eastman Kodak.
The big company's problem was that in order to improve its film and accommodate new manufacturing processes, it had reduced the amount of camphor in its formula until its product was virtually indistinguishable from Rev. Goodwin's original formula. After more than a decade of legal wrangling, the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals found in favor of Ansco and Goodwin's heirs (.pdf) in 1914.
Goodwin's patent was due to expire the following year, but Eastman Kodak had to pay out more than $5 million ($107 million in today's money, and 5 percent of George Eastman's net worth then) for past infringement and future license. Other film companies ponied up another $300,000.
Except for the substitution of acetate for celluloid, Goodwin's original technology dominated photography for a century before the advent of digital cameras. But he's hardly a household name.
(Source: Invention & Technology magazine)
I'll just get this up front: I enormously enjoyed Grand Theft Auto IV.
But here's the thing: It's kind of hard to explain why.
There's no single thing to point to -- no must-see scene, no gotta-do moment of gameplay, no deliriously fun weapon. No, the game's pleasures come in weird, subtle, unexpected moments.
Let me give you an example. At one point, I was having a typically thuggish day: I'd killed a few drug dealers with a semiautomatic, and while trying to flee, whoops -- I accidentally rear-ended a cop car. Then it was a car chase, all wailing sirens and shrieking pedestrians diving out of the way, before totaling my SUV in a brutal collision and escaping on foot. A total Hillary Clinton nightmare, in other words.
I finally escaped by ducking into a subway station, and while catching my breath, I decided to explore a bit. That's when I stumbled upon a lovely piece of artwork: A huge mosaic of a subway train on the second level. It looked precisely like the mosaics you see in the New York City subway, except even more ambitious and gorgeous. And I was thinking, "Man, who put this thing here? Who thinks of this stuff?"
Well, Rockstar Games did. The Rockstar developers are utterly in love with the idea of the American city: the riot of decay and grandeur, the garish commercialism, the violence and beauty, the architectural delights hidden in every corner. With GTA IV, Rockstar has produced an ode to urban life. Which is to say, they're not really giving you a game to play with -- they're giving you a city.
Rockstar invented the sandbox game, and with this GTA, it has pretty much perfected it. As with previous games in the series, you play as a minor thug climbing the crime ladder by fulfilling missions. But you can totally ignore the missions and simply go exploring, eavesdropping or conducting physics experiments by jumping motorcycles off rooftops.
Since this version of Liberty City is modeled loosely on New York City, the game is satisfying merely as a driving sim -- you can spend hours cruising around and admiring the garish fluorescence of Times Square, the corroded projects of the Bronx, the Russian mob scene flourishing beneath the rattling subway tracks of lower Brooklyn (neighborhoods that in the game are dubbed, respectively, Algonquin, Bohan and Broker).
The attention to street-culture detail is obsessive, practically Sistine. Each street corner is a piece of randomly generated theater: Primly dressed art students wander around with portfolio cases, homeless crack addicts mutter to themselves as they brush past hipster dudes toting Starbuckian sleeves of coffee. Like all the in-game voice acting, the ambient dialogue is both superbly acted and super weird. ("I forgot to tell you, I need more socks. They are all fucked!" brayed a Russian émigré into his mobile phone as I wandered by.)
This is the same self-regulating anarchy that inspired Jane Jacobs, author of The Death and Life of Great American Cities.
So you could just street-watch. But once you engage the main "story," the plot line is so appealing that it's hard to stop. In GTA IV you play as Niko Bellic, a just-off-the-boat Serbian immigrant who is scarred by his experience in the Balkan wars. You're nursing some secrets, yet trying to start new. Starting new isn't easy, because you're immediately trying to pay off your ne'er-do-well cousin's debts, which means doing the bidding of various low-fi gangsters. Soon you're hip-deep in intrigue -- whacking drug dealers, stealing contraband and generally breaking the hell out of the law.
The game isn't a celebration of gangster life. GTA never was; for all their bad-boy reputation, Rockstar's designers are adept satirists of American excess. Indeed, they pretty much share Charles Dickens' moral view, wherein those in the big city who gain power are inevitably corrupted by it. (I nearly drove off the road several times while shaking with laughter at the parodies of right-wing talk radio -- complete with incoherent, anti-immigrant nativists, slavishly pro-government commentators on the Weasel News network and ads for "baby buying" services.)
GTA IV's men are filled with sexist bluster -- particularly when women aren't around -- and the Russian and Balkan gangsters are sloppy psychological messes, often because they spent time in war prisons abroad. (Rockstar's choice of Eastern European mobsters for this game, actually, adds a nice frisson, because this is the one criminal class left in America that hasn't been glamorized: They're simply scary as shit, in real life as in the game.)
Interestingly, Niko is the most likable hero in the GTA series. He's a curiously cordial dating partner -- and you'll go on a lot of dates. Indeed, in a Hollywood-like cellphone irony, your girlfriend will often call to chat while you're in the middle of a gunfight or car chase.
The game also lets you exercise a bit of your own moral code when you're given a few key opportunities to disobey your gangster bosses. (I chose to set free someone I'd been given a contract to kill, on the promise that he leave town -- though I'm wondering if that decision will come back to haunt me as I continue to play.)
As for the game's controls? Very little is new, but it's all improved. Executing your missions is more fun than in any GTA game before, because Rockstar has neatly tweaked some of the mechanics that annoyed many lightweight players like me in the past. You're much more accurate with your gun early on (a fact cleverly explained by Niko's status as a war veteran), and each time you fail a mission, you're given an option to immediately replay it, which speeds up the game immeasurably.
In previous games, the complexity of GTA's cities often left you maddeningly lost during time-sensitive missions. This time, an in-game GPS service highlights the fastest route to drive -- a trick that Rockstar copied from Saints Row, a game that itself was a copy of Grand Theft Auto. My one serious quibble with the gameplay is that the cars still control like tanks, and the camera hovers far too low on the hood, frequently obstructing your view unless you constantly fiddle with it.
Perhaps the best improvement of all, though, is that Rockstar has reined itself in. Those who played the most recent title in the series -- San Andreas -- confronted a game so sprawling that no normal earthling could finish it (not even a friend of mine who was confined to bed with a broken leg for three weeks could go all the way). But judging by my progress, you could get through GTA IV in about 50 hours, doable for an adult who goes to a job and occasionally showers.
Yet I may never finish the game. In a city this vibrant, it's hard to stop getting distracted. At one point, I finished a mission on the top floor of a decrepit apartment filled with crack-addled occupants. I started to head back downstairs to my car, then wondered: "Hey, what's up on the roof?"
So I headed up and, sure enough, it was a spectacular view: corroded water towers dotting the rooftops, bits of weather-beaten graffiti on the masonry, the distant hum and honk of pissed-off drivers below. Broken and beaten yet flailing onward: That's the world of Grand Theft Auto.
What a wonderfully seedy world it is.
- - -
Clive Thompson is a contributing writer for The New York Times Magazine and a regular contributor to Wired and New York magazines. Look for more of Clive's observations on his blog, collision detection.
: He started hacking action figures as a tot. Now Jin Saotome sells custom-modded superheroes for hundreds and even thousands of dollars. "I would take apart my G.I. Joes, swap arms and paint them with my mom's nail polish," said the 30-year-old resident of California City, California.
With the help of his dad's metal shop, Saotome built and deconstructed popular figurines as a hobby. His first set of custom figures was purchased by a traveling jeweler, who bought an entire set of Star Wars figures for his son.
Left: Saotome makes a living cranking out custom creations like this Hulkbuster Iron Man. "What if Iron Man crash-landed in this summer's Hulk movie? He'd be wearing this armor," said Saotome. He crafted the custom piece using the beefed-up exoskeleton of Iron Man's nemesis, the Iron Monger. Saotome says this figure sold for $520 on eBay.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: For this chromed-out version of Iron Man's first attempt at a flying suit, Saotome buffed all the joint holes for a smooth, retro look. He then carved out a hatch on the back and rigged an LED from a dollar store to illuminate the chest.
"I just love Iron Man," Saotome said. "I've probably made nine or 10 variations on the Iron Man character."
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
:
Saotome is revving up his collection of Iron Man custom figures to coincide with Friday's release of the feature film. To ramp up for Iron Man, Saotome mostly created variants on the character's armored costume -- but a few were made to look like Robert Downey Jr.'s version of Tony Stark. "I'm also planning one with a tank top and a unit on his chest that'll light up," said Saotome.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: Blackout, one of the first Transformers shown on screen during the 2007 live-action movie, sold for the highest figure any of Saotome's custom figures have garnered to date. The Deceptacon went for a whopping $3,400.
"I don't think I could top that again," said Saotome, who's built up a large base of fans who appreciate his tweaked superheroes. "Those results aren't typical for this field.
Saotome sells all his custom designs on eBay, and prefers to let bidders decide what each figurine is worth rather than setting a minimum price.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: This figure is a parody of Xenu, the leader of the Galactic Confederacy in Scientology lore.
Saotome's work often touches on the lighter side of geek obsession with such gag figurines. "After I did the custom Xenu, I got tons of e-mails -- but no death threats," laughed Saotome.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: "In the [Iron Man] comic, Tony Stark was always battling the bottle," said Saotome of this artistic take on a boozed-up superhero. "That custom [figure] got about 11,000 views on eBay."
Though Saotome's joke figures are a big hit on the web, they don't tend to sell for as much as some of the other figurines. The Repulsive Armor Iron Man sold for about $150.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: Saotome cobbled together this action figure in the likeness of his namesake. "Jin Saotome" is a character from an old arcade game the artist played obsessively as a kid. He adopted the nickname used by friends who admired his skills playing the avatar, and now uses the pseudonym for his work. Of the 300-plus figures Saotome has created over the years, this is one of three he doesn't plan to sell.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: This Black Cat figure was inspired by an issue of The Amazing Spider-Man. Saotome is quick to point out he's not crafting from scratch, but "building on what's already been done."
Though he often takes requests for commissioned works, he usually looks to his favorite comics for inspiration. Each augmented action figure takes about three days to build, though it varies depending on the complexity of the design.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: Saotome usually starts with a simple base doll to build custom action figures like this Stealth Iron Man. Utilizing a prepackaged form allows the figurine to be fully articulated -- durable joints are nearly impossible to build by hand, says Saotome.
He prefers using the Silver Surfer to start, then sculpting clothes or armor from an epoxy. "I recently stepped up my game, from swapping hands, gloves and feet around to actually making my own parts," said Saotome.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: "I'm a customizing MacGyver," said Saotome. He estimated he has about three 10-gallon bins of spare doll parts for building figurines like this one, which is based on the Iron Man movie.
"Anything I have lying around is fair game," he said. Materials run the gamut from vintage figurines salvaged from a garage sale or eBay to a cellphone strap.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: "Painting, the last step, can either make or break your figurine," said Saotome, who learned his brushwork skills from various jobs and working on model replicas. This high-gloss Iron Man figurine is just one of the action figures Saotome has been working on to gear up for the Friday release of the feature film.
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
: Saotome confessed a love for all things robot and mecha, which contributes to his obsession with the various Iron Man armors and costumes, like this Silver Centurion model.
Though he's been focusing on Iron Man in anticipation of the silver-screen release, he's eyeing the rest of the summer comic-book line-up for inspiration. "I'm hoping to do some nice Hulk figures," said Saotome. "But Ray Park [who played Darth Maul in the new Star Wars movies] is one of my favorite actors, so I have to do Snake Eyes [his role in the upcoming G.I. Joe flick]."
He said he'll be skipping Speed Racer this summer, though: "Everyone's doing it and I pretty much only do Marvel Comics characters anyway."
Photo courtesy Jin Saotome
Hundreds of crafters, hackers and nerds are putting the finishing touches on elaborate contraptions for the Maker Faire: a huge, two-day gathering of people who love welding, soldering and sewing.
With almost 500 exhibits of homemade arts, crafts and electronics, ranging from the klunky to the sublime, the Maker Faire is probably the largest gathering of hobbyists and do-it-yourselfers in the country. It all happens May 3 and 4 at a suburban fairground site in San Mateo, California, and is expected to draw more than 60,000 people.
"It's sort of the engineering and art part of Burning Man, without the dust, raves and drugs," said Jeremy Faludi, a product designer and researcher who is attending the show. "It's pinnacle geek culture that you can't find anywhere else in the world."
Artists Dan Das Mann and Karen Cusolito demo their 6-ton, 20-foot-tall flaming sculpture Epiphany for Wired.com ahead of Maker Faire at their Oakland, California, industrial-arts space.
For more, visit video.wired.com.
Maker Faire is put on by O'Reilly Media's popular magazine Make and is dedicated to the do-it-yourself ethic in all its forms. In the two years since its inception, Maker Faire has drawn up to 40,000 attendees to watch robots, play with fire, and hobnob with the tech-savvy weirdos the event attracts.
Exhibitors have been logging hundreds of hours in preparation to perfect their creations. The mostly offbeat projects, like Bob's Electric Vehicle Corral, a solar-powered chariot pulled by a bobble-headed puppet that looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger, aren't always useful, but they're always thought-provoking and geeky -- and inspiring to other hobbyists and wannabes.
"What I'm looking forward to most is the camaraderie of being in the company of a bunch of DIYers who've been working in their garages until 1 or 2 in the morning getting stuff ready," said Brett Levine, co-founder of video software company Dovetail and a contributor to False Profit Labs, which has two exhibits at the Faire. "I have this feeling that there are all these garages right now with the lights on, drills humming, lathes turning, far and wide across the Bay Area."
Both of False Profit Labs' pieces -- Pyrocardium, which uses a stethoscope to send flames dancing in time with a person's heartbeat, and the Hydrogen Economy, which features exploding bubbles of hydrogen inside a clear plastic enclosure -- are being funded by Burning Man, highlighting the connection between the two events.
"Both have that breakaway spirit of, 'I can do this better if I do it myself,'" Levine said.
One couple has decided to do things not by themselves, but together. Hallie McConlogue, an independent programmer and designer, and Corey McGuire, a NASA Ames researcher, who together have contributed to a half-dozen Maker Faire projects, have decided to get married at the Faire.
The ceremony will take place on a self-propelled, three-story Victorian home called the Neverwas Haul. The hundred or so people attending the wedding will all be wearing costumes, including the bride and groom. McGuire will be dressed in a Napoleonic diplomat's coat while McConlogue will wear an early-20th-century creation. The bride's mother is attending in "full-up Sense and Sensibility style," McConlogue said.
While the location and costumes are decidedly steampunk, the wedding feast will be a bit more modern.
"We're going to have pizza, because we're geeks," said McConlogue.
McGuire said that he spent many hours volunteering his time on various Maker Faire projects last year, in an effort to woo his bride-to-be.
"You have to try really hard when you are trying to woo a woman with nerdiness," McGuire said.
For a vision of their future, newlyweds might look to husband-and-wife industrial-arts team Dan Das Mann and Karen Cusolito, who are bringing their 6-ton, 20-foot-tall sculpture Epiphany to the Maker Faire. (A preview video of the fiery creation is embedded above.)
The team considers the fire-spewing figure a manifestation of the current state of an oil-dependent economy.
"She could be fearful or hopeful, worshipping either a tree or oil derrick," said Cusolito, "but either way, she's engulfed in a state of fervor."
Fire technicians Danya Parkinson and Joe Bard of art collective Pyrokinetics were responsible for rigging Epiphany's pyrotechnics: They installed a pilot light in the cardiac region of her 20-foot-tall frame that, when triggered, radiates fire outwards through her hands. The blazes are supposed to mimic a fiery vascular system, and are rigged to a control board that regulates the intensity and frequency of the flame. The larger-than-life sculpture will burst into flames every half hour over the course of the Faire's two days.
The duo, along with their art collective, the Headless Point Artist's Retreat and Labor Camp, spent roughly two months crafting Epiphany using donated salvaged materials like hunks of steel, pulleys, gears and car parts.
Exhibiting (or getting married) at Maker Faire is clearly a lot of work, but the participants say it's a labor of love. For many, it's a way of rethinking how manufactured consumer products are used, reused or abused, a spirit shared by the members of False Profit, a registered limited-liability corporation.
"We decided that we were going to change the way that corporations work by focusing on the goal of creating joy, happiness and meaningful experiences instead of money," said False Profit member Stephen Trichter.
: As technology advances in practically every other aspect of human life, the tools for surviving nature and its disasters remain relatively primitive. Is a Leatherman the best we can do? The problem is that good gear needs to be practical, safe and portable which doesn't leave much room for robotic mountain-climbing exoskeletons.
We've compiled the most promising and innovative solutions we could find to common survival problems. Some are just concepts and others are already available. We might not trust our lives with all of these designs, but at least they're a step in the right direction.
Do you have your own favorite survival gadget? Let us know in the comments.
Left: The Cocoon is a short-term shelter made of durable insulating material that hangs off a tree (or any stable structure). In theory, getting the user off the ground seems safer, but it's still pretty vulnerable. Sure, you wouldn't be prey to wild animals, but the wind could swing you against the holding structure like a piñata and making a hasty exit from the cocoon seems unlikely.
Plus, the fact that it resembles a bear punching bag, Satan's distended testicle or an alien rejuvenation pod doesn't inspire much confidence.
Designer: John Moriarity
:
The Adamant is an earthquake-resistant bed with an extra-strong carbon-fiber roof that can be pulled closed like the top of a convertible. It features two fluorescent lamps, an emergency beacon and a storage area for radios and food.
We like the fact that it uses the bed as a primary safeguard since most people spend close to 40 percent of their time there. Also, the slope of the roof conducts debris downwards. But we're worried that the cave-like housing could become a trap. And, if it's flipped over, the door latch or wooden side panels could pop.
Designers: Erdem Batirbek, Gonca Onusluel and Yigit Karatoka (Izmir University of Economics, Turkey)
: The Bedu Emergency Rapid Response Kit is a keg-sized drum full of durable life-saving gear. It's built to support eight adults for up to five years and it includes a water-filtration system, medicine and tool kits, a multi-fuel stove, a radio and a hand-crank generator with a photovoltaic battery pack and a strip-cell blanket. Not only that, but the skeleton of the barrel can be used to create a shelter.
We see a few potential problems. If you need to change locations, how do you put it back together quickly? And there are also too many small parts to keep track of in the middle of a crisis: "Here comes a little wind and … it's gone. Thanks a lot Dad. Look at it roll over there. We could have gotten one of those weird cocoon testicles. Now we're dead."
Designer: Toby McInnes
: The Urban Skiff looks like a body bag until you unfold it into your own personal get-out-of-dodge transport. While the unprepared (read: suckers) are hiking through arduous undergrowth, you're clocking miles down the river.
The boat assembles easily and includes an inflatable hub with a base skeleton made out of carbonite. At first glance, it seems that the backside of the boat is missing, but the hull is designed so that the back lifts out of the water.
The only problems we can see are that it's likely heavy and cumbersome out of the water and that it's probably too flimsy for prolonged sailing.
Designer: Thomas Setter
: Use some elbow grease to crank this baby's power up and watch it last forever. The Grundig Eton Radio includes AM/FM and weather-band frequencies, a two-way walkie-talkie channel, a flashlight, a siren, a beacon light and a cellphone charger. It's also incredibly tough -- no need to worry if it gets banged around in the chaos of an emergency. It's also fairly cheap at only $150. Just make sure you can find it when you need it -- don't let it become a relic in the back of the garage.
Available at Etón
: If you and your buddies like to travel long distances on icy terrain, there's a good chance someone will end up hurt. This inflatable sled functions as a gurney or a rest buggy, allowing you to transport anyone injured to safety. Perhaps the best thing about the Firun is that you can carry it on your back and it's lighter than a baby's conscience.
Designer: Janine Züst
: Traveling to developing nations and disaster zones just got a lot easier. The remarkable Life Saver bottle has an affordable, portable carbon filter that can block any virus larger than 15 nanometers. What's more, it can go through more than 1,500 gallons of water before the filter needs to be replaced. The bacteria and virus retention rate is 99.99 percent effective -- it's so thorough that it's even supposed to clean up (gulp) fecal matter.
The bottle was inspired by the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina when visiting businessman Michael Pritchard found that thousands of survivors couldn't access clean water. The only drawback seems to be that it doesn't work in freezing temperatures.
Available at Life Saver Systems
: Industrial designer Brad Knewstubb created the Hydran Turbine for use in the harsh mountains of New Zealand. The device melts snow to produce up to 750 milliliters of drinking water per hour -- more than enough for a long expedition. The device uses the electricity generated from wind to thaw the snow.
Designer: Brad Knewstubb
: Built with the flood-damaged communities of sub-Saharan Africa in mind, the water shelter is basically a high-tech tent that configures in ingenious ways to adapt to a wide range of conditions. It can connect with other shelters to form an impromptu community and can be expanded with locally available materials, like grass and sticks. It can even grow into a permanent shelter with the benefit of a water-collection-filtration system on top of the canopy.
The shelters are designed to be airdropped and open like umbrellas while drifting down. Unfortunately their design while airborne is a bit ominous.
Designer: Robert Nightingale
: With this solar cooker, you no longer have to burn your fingers pretending to be a caveman. The BCK resembles a Thermos but includes a solar shield that reflects the sun's rays into its center, which can build heat up to 90 degrees Celsius. Foods cook at a constant temperature and about as fast as on a conventional stove. Of course, you can also sterilize water in the cooker.
The disadvantage is that the conical shield must be focused often to follow the sun. Plus it can cause burns and potentially blind you if not used correctly. Oh, and if it's cloudy, you might actually have to build a fire.
Designers: Javier Bertani, Ezequiel Castro, Vera Kade
The Microfix 406 is a small and light personal locator beacon that also works as an internal GPS. With a 406-MHz transmission that signals satellites in outer space when the ACR is triggered, the beacon will accurately identify a user within a mile of his or her location, as well as match the person’s name, address and medical info. From there, a homing signal will direct a rescue crew to the exact location of the hopefully still-living user.
The ACR is oil-, water- and UV-resistant, and should only be used as a last-resort, grave-danger gadget. Some people have a very minimal threshold for danger and might send out a distress call prematurely. An exhaustive overuse by would-be adventurers could lead to a Boy Who Cried Wolf scenario where rescue crews are hesitant to answer distress signals.
Available at REI
: This all-you-can-use disaster-reconnaissance kit is all about flexibility. Campa USA will customize their impressive steel trailers for your Mad Max vehicle with every survival tool you need.
Water purification system, propane bottle and a Honda portable generator? Check. Full ammo boxes, one satellite communication system and a beautifully tapered oak kitchen? Check, check, check.
And a toilet as well? We already feel relieved.
Available at Campa USA
On April 27, 2007, Estonia was attacked in cyberspace. Following a diplomatic incident with Russia about the relocation of a Soviet World War II memorial, the networks of many Estonian organizations, including the Estonian parliament, banks, ministries, newspapers and broadcasters, were attacked and -- in many cases -- shut down. Estonia was quick to blame Russia, which was equally quick to deny any involvement.
It was hyped as the first cyberwar: Russia attacking Estonia in cyberspace. But nearly a year later, evidence that the Russian government was involved in the denial-of-service attacks still hasn't emerged. Though Russian hackers were indisputably the major instigators of the attack, the only individuals positively identified have been young ethnic Russians living inside Estonia, who were pissed off over the statue incident.
You know you've got a problem when you can't tell a hostile attack by another nation from bored kids with an axe to grind.
Separating cyberwar, cyberterrorism and cybercrime isn't easy; these days you need a scorecard to tell the difference. It's not just that it’s hard to trace people in cyberspace, it's that military and civilian attacks -- and defenses -- look the same.
The traditional term for technology the military shares with civilians is "dual use." Unlike hand grenades and tanks and missile targeting systems, dual-use technologies have both military and civilian applications. Dual-use technologies used to be exceptions; even things you'd expect to be dual use, like radar systems and toilets, were designed differently for the military. But today, almost all information technology is dual use. We both use the same operating systems, the same networking protocols, the same applications, and even the same security software.
And attack technologies are the same. The recent spurt of targeted hacks against U.S. military networks, commonly attributed to China, exploit the same vulnerabilities and use the same techniques as criminal attacks against corporate networks. Internet worms make the jump to physically-separate classified military networks in less than 24 hours, even if those networks are physically separate. The Navy Cyber Defense Operations Command uses the same tools against the same threats as any large corporation.
Because attackers and defenders use the same IT technology, there is a fundamental tension between cyberattack and cyberdefense. The National Security Agency has referred to this as the "equities issue," and it can be summarized as follows: When a military discovers a vulnerability in a dual-use technology, they can do one of two things. They can alert the manufacturer and fix the vulnerability, thereby protecting both the good guys and the bad guys. Or they can keep quiet about the vulnerability and not tell anyone, thereby leaving the good guys insecure but also leaving the bad guys insecure.
The equities issue has long been hotly debated inside the NSA. Basically, the NSA has two roles: eavesdrop on their stuff, and protect our stuff. When both sides use the same stuff, the agency has to decide whether to exploit vulnerabilities to eavesdrop on their stuff or close the same vulnerabilities to protect our stuff.
In the 1980s and before, the tendency of the NSA was to keep vulnerabilities to themselves. In the 1990s, the tide shifted, and the NSA was starting to open up and help us all improve our security defense. But after the attacks of 9/11, the NSA shifted back to the attack: vulnerabilities were to be hoarded in secret. Slowly, things in the U.S. are shifting back again.
So now we're seeing the NSA help secure Windows Vista and releasing their own version of Linux. The DHS, meanwhile, is funding a project to secure popular open source software packages, and across the Atlantic the UK’s GCHQ is finding bugs in PGPDisk and reporting them back to the company. (NSA is rumored to be doing the same thing with BitLocker.)
I'm in favor of this trend, because my security improves for free. Whenever the NSA finds a security problem and gets the vendor to fix it, our security gets better. It's a side-benefit of dual-use technologies.
But I want governments to do more. I want them to use their buying power to improve my security. I want them to offer countrywide contracts for software, both security and non-security, that have explicit security requirements. If these contracts are big enough, companies will work to modify their products to meet those requirements. And again, we all benefit from the security improvements.
The only example of this model I know about is a U.S. government-wide procurement competition for full-disk encryption, but this can certainly be done with firewalls, intrusion detection systems, databases, networking hardware, even operating systems.
When it comes to IT technologies, the equities issue should be a no-brainer. The good uses of our common hardware, software, operating systems, network protocols, and everything else vastly outweigh the bad uses. It's time that the government used its immense knowledge and experience, as well as its buying power, to improve cybersecurity for all of us.
---
Bruce Schneier is CTO of BT Counterpane and author of Beyond Fear: Thinking Sensibly About Security in an Uncertain World. You can read more of his writings on his website.