Flashes of Panic

Tying a few things together: I’m re-reading this New York Magazine article about “the younger generation” (Bog, I’m old) and the gap between how they view online “privacy” (they don’t even have the concept) and how people my age do. On one hand, I’m thinking about how this matches with my mental decisions not to write here about classes of things that happen at the University—about “my” students, “my” undergraduates, etc.—because, hey, maybe they don’t even care.

But I’m also thinking about this software I grabbed last week, and ran for most of a day. It connects to an available digital camera (e.g. the one built in to the lid of this laptop) and grabs a photo every thirty seconds or so, saving them as a giant time-lapse movie. I wound up with a record of what the laptop sees in a day, about thirty seconds of me grimacing at the screen, or just slack-faced in contemplation. It has the same quirky feel to it as a photo of yourself, because unlike PhotoBooth it doesn’t reverse the image (showing you the same image you’d expect from a mirror) but shows the straight image.

There are some odd frames—a few shots of me eating breakfast, one with the cat walking in front of the screen, a long morning segment displaying how badly I needed a haircut (and how the pool chemicals combine with my habit of running my fingers through my hair to make it stand up straight in a decidedly terrifying manner.)

This screen (actually, one quite like it) has been my audience for the best part of the last two years. It was quite revealing to see what it sees.

Now Playing: Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) from Pleased to Meet You by James