A paper Ipod!

I've always argued that portable technology is partly a type of performance art. Consider the Palm Pilot. Sure, the very first users were true zealots; they loaded everything onto their Palms and couldn't imagine being without them. But within a few years, the trend had caught on, and zillions of people were frantically buying Palms. Did all those people actually need them? Did they use them?

I doubt it. They didn't buy their Palms for function; they bought them exclusively for style. As I argued in my Newsday column in 1999:

Indeed, once you’ve established that you own and carry a Palm Pilot, you could pretty much leave the thing sitting on your desk to gather dust, or perhaps use it merely as a paperweight. You still look good. In essence, Palm’s central genius is not just in producing a great piece of technology. It’s that they’ve grasped a basic fact about the digital world -- in which high-tech gadgets function primarily as a type of corporate performance art.

One friend of mine used her Palm solely to tell the time.

So I was rather tickled to find that the folks at the Mijnkopthee blog have created a cut-out-and-assemble paper template for an Ipod. Can't afford to dish out $500 for a new 40-gig model? Print this .jpg, glue it onto cardboard, fold Tab A into Slot B, and presto: You, too, can appear to own the hippest digital tool du jour. Because hey -- appearances still matter. Owning an Ipod isn't just about having all 4,000 songs at your beck and call. It's about letting everyone know that you own so much music -- and are so culturally with-it -- that you wouldn't dare leave the house without the collected works of Wynton Marsalis, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Delibes at your fingertips. Rip, mix, burn, dude.

I wonder how many people load thousands of songs onto their Ipods and yet spend two months listening to the same one album over and over and over again. Heh.

Anyway, if you're interested in reading my original column about Palm Pilots and this cultural effect, click "more" and it'll appear at the bottom of this item!

(Thanks to Boing Boing for finding this one!)

The handheld gizmo as digital performance art
NETCETERA COLUMN, Newsday
By Clive Thompson

Recently, the Boston Globe noted that the Palm Pilot is taking over Congress. The Palm, of course, is the wildly popular, handheld gizmo for storing contact names, appointments and documents. Over 3 million have been sold in the U.S., and many politicians are apparently becoming big fans. Al Gore sports the high-end, $499 model; the Defense Secretary has one too. “I’ve even seen some Palm envy among senators,” says Ranit Schmelzer, spokesperson for Senate minority leader Thomas Daschle.

Indeed, the Palms are so big that when Palm Computing -- the company that makes them -- recently announced plans to release a color-screen model, friends of mine began to drool. “I’m camping out at the store until I get one,” said one.

What, precisely, is their cult-like allure? The easy answer is that they help you organize your affairs -- allowing you to sift easily through the endless piles of data that accumulate, like plaque, in your life. Palm Computing argues that possessing their device will help you become ruthlessly efficient: “Manage the bottom line and get there before your competition,” as their web site crows.

But the odd thing is, a lot of folks I know barely use their Palms. Sure, they cart them around all day long. But they don’t often make to-do lists; they rarely use them to read documents; they sometimes don’t even use the scheduler. One friend of mine uses his solely to play games he downloads at PalmCentral. Another journalist colleague uses hers only to check the time.

As I’ve come to realize, the central importance of owning a Palm is not so much in actually being organized -- but in appearing to be organized. Whip it out of your pocket, and you instantly take on the air of a connected, savvy info-citizen. This is particularly true with the Palm V, a genuinely seductive piece of modernist eye candy encased in anodized aluminum. None dare question your efficiency.

Indeed, once you’ve established that you own and carry a Palm Pilot, you could pretty much leave the thing sitting on your desk to gather dust, or perhaps use it merely as a paperweight. You still look good. In essence, Palm’s central genius is not just in producing a great piece of technology. It’s that they’ve grasped a basic fact about the digital world -- in which high-tech gadgets function primarily as a type of corporate performance art.

And ironically enough, owning a Palm actually facilitates goofing off. Pull out a Palm during a staff meeting, and people will assume you’re busily synergizing or developing e-commerce solutions or whatever, while in fact you are playing Tetris.

This is not to deny that many, many people do in fact use their Palms to improve their productivity. I’ve yet to buy one myself, but what I’ve seen impresses me. Still, I feel my lack most keenly not during the workday, but when I’m in social situations. I meet some new people; we decide to trade phone numbers and email. They pull out their Palm Pilots, while I rummage in my coat for a scrap of paper and a pen.

How humiliating.

Posted by Clive Thompson at October 01, 2003 12:17 PM | TrackBack