. elsewhere . . letters from the inaccessible .


21 june 2002
summer solstice

steel (actually ANODE) blue

I've discovered that nearly six months of not updating one's webpage can adversely affect the traffic said web page receives. There has been a bit more action out there on the old LJ, but it's been pretty quiet over here. Quite completely quiet. No new wallpapers at ANODE, certainly no new incomprehensible art projects. And yet, as I once said, it is much noisier. I have a focus, a love, a reason not to devote as much time to this here, my own little internet-avatar.

I generally have tried to make a point of writing on astronomically (not astrologically, though coincidentally it happens to be the case) significant days: Equinoxes and Solstices. Sol stitium, literally the stopping of the sun in Latin. And so I'm writing today. Some significant things have taken place:

  • Day One
  • Day Two
  • Office Moving Day (to the wonderful low-rent district of Culver City)
  • Weekly desert trips
  • A lot of silence and lack of contact from me
  • New Steel Blue PT Cruiser (just 3 days ago), photographs pending once Dr. Nebraska ever returns my camera

So as you can see, there has been much going on, and though you've not been able to keep up via this page very well, I can only offer you my vague assurance that I've found it difficult to keep up myself. Exciting times, scary times, but never a dull moment.

in exchange

In exchange for having fewer updates to this here Elsewhere, there is and for the foreseeable future, will be the good old LJ entries down below. Share and Enjoy.

musings of señor prod.

[ Editor's note -- this entry, written a little while back, has been edited for content and to run in the time alotted. This entry has been reformatted to fit on your screen. ]

Those were heady times. Minds filled with dreams (or, more often, dollar signs), twenty-year-old "self-made" millionaires, on-call masseurs, foozball played with real pearls, and bad clipart.

Lots of bad clipart. Every company big and small wanted to "get in on this whole Internet thing." You punched the monkey. You clicked on the tree. You got your Geocities account and you thought that writing a URL on a napkin was a cryptic-enough missive that any eavesdroppers would think you were writing in gibberish.

Heady times, indeed. Yes, the internet filled with crap and porn (porn has been on the forefront of every technological advance) faster than a septic tank short on Rid-X. Internet developers were magicians. Except most of the magicians were spewing out ever more crap (or porn) from those top-hats. Nothing up their sleeves, but more crap. However, there was always the high-art crowd, your jodi.orgs or your superbad.coms. And those, well, those weren't crap.

Lost in the crowd of charlatans and snake oilmongers were a few small companies who did one thing, and did it well. No ugly Kai's Power Tools beveled buttons. No rainbow-animated horizontal dividers. One of these companies, was, quite appropriately named (for the time), Media Revolution. Not like every other internet firm built by a bunch of college-mate designers, the Revolution had something special. Heart? Brains? Guts? Probably some of each. It's not the ingredients that make the confection special, it's the recipe.

My first brush with the Revolution was in '96. A winding road later, I landed a job as an Ass Prod (or Associate Producer to the PG crowd) in '99. It was a real job, but money wasn't scarce, and the product was good. The product, not to put too fine a point on it, was phenomenal.

Eventually, money had to be made. You see, nobody was punching the monkey anymore. Nobody was fooled by the "YOU WON!" flashing abomination that took up 468 by 60 pixels of your vision. And all those companies were suddenly wondering how "getting in on the whole internet thing" didn't translate directly to getting in on a cash cow. So, for the last 2 years, money has been tight, very tight, and the Revolution isn't what it once was.

There was a time, a heady time indeed, when it felt like a calling. Be better than everyone else. Show the world that the internet didn't have to have so much crap. But now? It's a job. it's 40 to 70 hours a week. It's a serious decline from a cause. The mighty still need to make payroll. But I still have to say, it's a pretty darn good job. I must admit, though, that my mind periodically changes on that point. Sometimes it's darn good, other times, barely tolerable. But I digress.

It may not engender the kind of personal sacrifice it once did (somewhat to the chagrin of upper management who, let's be honest, got used to the extra work the deeply invested would gladly perform), but it doesn't, generally, suck. As for all that crap out there on the internet, the Revolution still proudly does its part to not pollute your surfing environment.


©2001 Timothy A. Clark -|-