The best thing about Chrome is that it is fast. The fastest. Evar. How so? To put it simply, the way it treats different tabs in the browser is the way your operating system treats different open applications. Each one runs independently, so the power of your computer—via its dual processors for example—can be divided and used for what God made processors for: speed. And, if you experience a crash on one pesky web page, the whole browser doesn’t have to be closed. You can just close the one hung tab. So, Chrome does for browsing what the Mac OS did for mainstream operating systems.

Think of your Chrome browser pages as application windows. They are nothing like your Firefox, Safari or Internet Explorer (Internet Explorer? really? still?) browser pages. That equals stability and speed.

There are lots of other good (and somewhat boring) things I could write about Chrome. But none of them matter, because when it comes to using computers speed trumps everything. I close and never use applications that run slow. And then I delete them.

Firefox is painfully slow compared to Chrome. If that doesn’t change soon, Firefox will bleed users and slowly become obsolete. It’s like the Blackberry versus the iPhone. Crackberry has a keyboard that is actually useful, but it is so much slower than the iPhone and so is in big trouble.

It is more likely that Windows will change its operating system to compete with Chrome—it’s not really a browser issue per se. Chrome reorganizes how we think about browsers versus operating systems, just like Google redefined knowledge. Again, it is about speed. With a fast, reliable browser, cloud computing becomes obvious. That means even hardware will change. The MacAir makes more sense suddenly. The separation between desktop and browser, online and offline, is beginning to dissolve.

Does this prove Google is an evil monster that is taking over the universe not just of browsers but now operating systems? Well, Chrome is built on open source architecture. So once again Google is not selling anything in the out-dated way of explicit and direct product creation and sale. Its mantle of goodness, contained within their unofficial motto of “Do no evil”, remains in place. This is perhaps the most significant feat, at least in a cultural sense. Page and Brin (Google’s daddies) can keep posing around like a couple of affable kids who just stumble into a few billion dollars every year, their Masters of the Universe secret identities intact.

This is because they have set up the perfect win-win situation: If Firefox and Windows improve access and speed across the Internet, Google wins even if Chrome loses the “browser wars.” Chrome is as much about upping the ante and pushing access and useability up, so that more pageviews and ads can hit our eyes and fill Google databases and coffers. So use Chrome, use the soon-to-be sped-up Firefox and revolutionized Windows or any other operating system that has been Chromed into improving access—and Google still comes out ahead.

In other words, win or lose against Firefox et al, the release and speed of Chrome translates into the perfect glory-filled victory for Google.

Chrome Easter Eggs!

I have to admit that when I pick up the Metro now and then, I flip to the celebrity section and read about the exploits of Paris Hilton, the Spears sisters, et al. The same pleasure centre of my brain that is fascinated by other peoples lives tingles every time I read any little tidbit of Barack Obama. McCain’s initial attacks on Obama comparing him to a celebrity did strike a chord with me. Could I believe in a politician’s views and ideals because he or she wields the powers of celebrity: a shining smile, good looks, and adoring crowds?

And yet it’s no surprise that McCain has chosen to fight celebrity fire with fire by selecting Palin. She is already the badass celebrity who will have the paparazzi following her in the wake of scandal that follows. Former beauty queen? Check. Pregnant unwed daughter? Check. Bad guy husband with unruly past? Check. Gets dragged into court in the full public eye? Check. Palin is Paris Hilton: the badass celebrity.

What could be better for McCain? Palin is like a black hole that will draw all the attention to his campaign and what is worse (or better if you’re a Republican) is if and when McCain, with a steady fatherly hand, makes this badass daughter good in front of glaring eyes of the nation.

God save Alaska.

Years ago, when I first met Nick Mount, he was teaching me about Major John Richardson in a U of T course called Early Canadian Literature. As I got to know him over beers and in the classroom, I learned more about his disparate interests: graphic novels, aesthetic theory, John Travolta records. He is the best teacher I’ve ever had. (more…)

Last night, I watched Barack Obama’s acceptance speech, streamed over the Internet to my room in Toronto by Al-Jazeera. I was thinking of my younger sister, who lay in a delivery room in America at that moment.

She gave birth to her first baby girl at 9:51 p.m. last night, nine minutes before Obama took the podium at Mile High Stadium. I was thinking about how this man will have a disturbing amount of influence on my newborn niece’s life. That 8-pound-6-ounce baby girl doesn’t have the power to mitigate carbon emissions, find alternative sources of fuel, or repair a broken financial system. Opening her eyes for the first time, she has no idea what she’s being born into. She’s relying on Obama and his promise of genuine leadership to create a situation in which she can live a decent life. It’s the current policymakers, more so than her hardworking parents, that are going to decide how bad climate change gets and where our energy comes from and which wars, if any, we are embroiled in. Of course, the US is ostensibly a democracy, so it is impossible and unfair to put the burden on Obama’s leadership alone: it requires all US citizens to support him, influence him, challenge him, and go beyond him. (more…)

I am not going to lie — the more turbulent the political world gets, the more I like it. Like many of you, I am a newsfreak, an armchair political consultant. Let’s be clear, I would never want to be an armchair politician. Rather, I want to the person sitting in the shadows, in an armchair, whispering sweet nothings into ears of world leaders. So, in fact, I am an armchair-armchair political consultant.

After all the hem-hawing over Russia’s latest chess move, an article has finally come through that sets out who did what to whom. Quite interesting — from the Moscow Times.

I’ll leave the Doug Wright Awards alone soon enough, I promise, but first I wanted to briefly consider each of this year’s winners, since winning an award is supposed to heighten a book’s profile, right? And I try to play into people’s expectations whenever possible. Today we’ll look at Southern Cross and The Magical Life of Long Tack Sam, the Best Book category’s honourable mention recipient, and winner, respectively. (more…)

A couple of weeks ago, and with bittersweet irony, on the day I found out that one of my favourite aunties had passed, this photo (above)

“If you must put me in a box, make sure it’s a big box. With lots of windows. And a door to walk through.” —Dan Bern

A couple of weeks ago, and with bittersweet irony, on the day I found out that one of my favourite aunties had passed, this photo (above)—cyber-bounced around my family—made my own impending aunthood a reality. So in the spirit of looking at how far we’ve come, baby, and within the real-meets-conceptual space that this genderless creature exists, I’m wondering: when, how, and why do we ascribe gender?

It seems appropriate that this photo would find a semi-permanent home on the Internet, given that it’s likely had more web-fame than most unborn babies have (can I get a fact check?). And though said fetal celebrity has been mostly confined to my family, that’s not always as simple as it sounds. (To get a glimpse of her great-grandfetus, my eighty-five-year-old grandmother, for example, had to track down her computer teacher to unlock the shared computer room* on her kibbutz, but I digress.) Once we all successfully sorted out how to get a hold of this black and white blob—the question on the tip of our tongues was, without hesitation, Is it a boy or a girl? (more…)

Time and space is filled
without disapointment

One should always be concious
of ones space, and others.

Space to stretch
Space between your ears

Space, the constant to fill
Think to much to feel!

To bissy filling
Think thaough compair give take
feel?
Shair thaught felt!

Lest you be cranking up your angry commenting energies to attack the editor, let me clarify: this is a verbatim love letter to me written fifteen years ago by someone I hurt. And remembering it is painful.
(more…)

It was in spring that I heard about the inaugural All Points West Music & Arts Festival. I was examining Radiohead’s website in hopes their tour would bring them close to my locale (then Winnipeg), within a couple of thousand kilometres even. I looked to August’s North American schedule and was puzzled to see not one but two dates booked at something called All Points West. Two consecutive concerts in one place—that must be something special, I thought, before looking up the festival. Little did I know that I would make it to New York—via Toronto—for those very shows. But while they may have been the festival’s biggest attraction, All Points West (APW), August 8-10, was more than a double dose of Radiohead. (more…)

BEIJING—It’s just after 7:30 am on the day of the closing ceremonies and we’re counting down the hours at the CBC studio. The Games are almost over, and thank the good Lord for that. It’s not that I’m happy for the Olympics to end (rather glum, actually), only that I want to sleep past sunrise again. The folks here are almost giddy for things to wrap up. “I’m getting drunk tonight,” is a common refrain. Hear, hear.

It’s been a good ride for me (although I think I’ll always harbour a grudge against the CBC for the early wake-ups), and above all a learning experience. Here are some tidbits I picked up over the last sixteen days:

— Since China made its Olympics debut in 1932, the names of practically all of its athletes have been pronounced incorrectly. This year was no different. For future reference, Wang is pronounced “Wong“, “Zh” is a J sound, and Liu Xiang is not “Lu Jang.” You’d think networks would have given their on air people a few lessons in pinyin since the games were being held in, you know, China, but I guess that wasn’t in the budget. (For the record, I thought most of CBC’s talent, particularly the hosts, did well in this regard. I have no reason to lie — CBC isn’t hosting the next two Games, and it would take a miracle to get me to work another Olympics anyway). (more…)

SHANGHAI—The New York Times has an article this morning heralding the arrival of CCTV on the world stage. Turns out the Beijing Olympics has awakened advertisers to the vast viewership enjoyed by the state network—an eighteen-channel conglomerate—in the world’s most populous country. The finals for women’s table tennis, for example, drew more viewers than the entire US population. As a result, multinationals are finally starting to take CCTV seriously—and ignore its role as a vehicle for propaganda. The NYT article yet again underscores China’s rising demographic influence. But I’d credit CCTV for a different reason: the Olympics has suddenly made its programming relevant. (more…)

Seth draws back the curtain on the “solitary pursuit” that is cartooning
In the September issue of The Walrus, Seth draws back the curtain on the “solitary pursuit” that is cartooning. In the process, he also manages to speak to how we experience our own daily routines, and what it’s like to be alone with ourselves. He was kind enough to respond by email to questions about memory, time, and, of course, cartooning. The second part to this Q&A will follow in a couple days.

Q: In your article “The Quiet Art of Cartooning,” you mention that when you’re drawing and inking your mind is often visiting the past in some manner, and that these reveries often find their way into your work. Do you think that all cartooning might somehow relate back to this sense of memory, or to the act of looking back? Is memory somehow connected with cartooning in a way that isn’t true of other art forms?

A: It is hard for me to generalize on other mediums but I do feel a unique connection between memory and cartooning.I started to formalize some thoughts about this when I was studying the life of Thoreau MacDonald (the son of Canadian painter J.E.H. MacDonald). Thoreau mentioned in an interview that he never drew his pen and ink drawings of the rural landscape while actually out in the field. Instead he would go for a walk and look about and then, when he came home later, he would sit down and draw the scenes from memory. Thoreau understood that he couldn’t capture the reality of the natural world in black and white ink drawings but he could replicate the memory of being there. This struck me. (more…)