A Picture is Worth 29 Words
September 15, 2005
Sure, if you really wanted to, you could dig through the ReadMe to find the installation instructions:
“To install Camino, simply drag the Camino icon onto your hard disk. We recommend that you copy it to the Applications folder. You can then Eject the disk image.”
But you probably already know what to do, because when you mounted the disk image for Camino 1.0a1, this is what you saw:
Comments
Lode
As every Mac user I knew how to install the application, but I was confused with the new bar on top in the Camino installer.
I clicked frantically for 10 seconds on both ‘buttons’ to see if they could save me from carefully dragging the icons to the appropriate locations, until I gave up and did it the normal way.
grettir
Ah! It never occurred to me, but now that you mention it…
And with Apple’s recent Burnt-Aqua-Unified-Brushed-Metal waffling, we’re probably getting to the point where people don’t even know what a toolbar is supposed to look like anymore. So seeing yet another implementation crop up wouldn’t be unusual.
I guess that just goes to show the difficulty of interface design (what makes sense to one user can baffle another), the importance of living up to users’ expectations (if it looks like toolbar, people are going to expect it to act like one), and the hazards of inconsistency (“toolbars du jour” eventually lead to utter chaos).
emily
Wow, I wish I knew what you were talking about…why is there no technobabble warning? Hm? Hmmmmmm?!
grettir
Oh, come on, Emily. Surely, as a Mac user, you don’t need a Technobabble warning for that one, do you? Hm? Hmmmmmm?!
Kate
Perhaps, instead of a “Technobabble” warning, this entry merited a “Mac-Deprivedâ?? Warning. After all, there are those who just donâ??t know what they are missing, so itâ??s all â??Technobabbleâ?? or something to them.
Then there are we few - we sad few (fear not â?? no â??Crispinâ??s Day speechâ?? allusions coming) â?? those of us who live, day by tedious day, deprived of access to a Mac. Those of us who, in another life, were adamant â??Mac People.â?? Those of us who cut our word-processing teeth on the very first little boxy Apple Macintosh in 1984. Those of us whoâ??d like to believe that we played some tiny part in converting CERTAIN people to the far superior Mac world. A single tear falls from each of our eyes (the right ones) as we think of the things we are missing â?? be it the wondrous capabilities of a dual-processor G5 or the amusing little Mac foibles, such as mentioned in your entry. Sigh.
cooper
It’s like listening to LeoLaporte on Saturdays and having to wade through 2.5 hours of the same “I’ve got this PC that will no longer boot - You’ve probably got a virus or spamware problem” questions to learn about some new quirky thing in Tiger such as “Create and parse SQLite databases.”
;-D
EuroGeek
Poor Kate, she really seems to miss that good old reliable original 128k Mac of 1984. But I can assure her that the “Dual Processor G5” she craves, while only costing half as much as the 1984 version (in non-inflation-adjusted $$$) also is a piece of s*** in comparison, from the hardware point of view. So badly overheating that they had to add the fan power of a jet engine, with the sound to match. Video cards for which there were only buggy drivers 18 months into the life-cycle of the product, operating system updates at a rate that would make Microsoft blush … Greetir’s friend Dr. Goateye may be right in hating the things.
EuroGeek
**** Technobabble warning ***********
Grettir, since you are into fixing/exploring/whatever the intricacies of Movable Type, you can perhaps explore why I got an “Internal server error” when I tried, instead of writing “a piece of s***” in my previous post, to embed the more geeky left-angle-bracket putYourOwnExpletiveHere forward-slash right-angle-bracket. Obviously, your system does not at all like XML syntax embedded in plain text. TuttTutt!
(Leaving space around the angle brackets avoided the server failure, but then the angle brackets acted like coment delimiters.)
Kate
Oh, Mr. or Ms. EuroGeek:
How heartily I must disagree with your assessment of the dual-processor G5. I also need to explain that I do not wantonly lust after the thing. I purchased the dual-processor G5 with 20â?? cinema display when they first came out, along with oodles of great software for my somewhat erstwhile husband as a birthday gift. So I did actually play with the thing for almost a year before we moved apart and separated our possessions. Didnâ??t have any problems with the video card. Didnâ??t think it was noisy â?? quite the opposite, actually. I was graced with a â??state-of-the-artâ?? Dell where I worked at approximately the same time. THAT was a jet engine. It was also a crashing, wretched, hideous Windows monster. I was lucky enough to be on the good side of a tech support person who actually KNEW something (hard in a large corporation â?? going through the phone support system and whatnot) and he did everything he could, more and more memory, patches here and there â?? but the thing was still satan on a stick. I realize that some of the credit goes to the pitiful and poorly constructed network, but STILL!
Since the good olâ?? 128k Mac days I have worked with many of its successors and many of its competitors (usually at workplaces â?? though I ran a great Mac Network working for my Fatherâ??s Catalysis lab years ago). I even graduated from University with a boxy little Classic II. Not only did it handle all of my very writing-intensive needs, it handled a midi connection and keyboard (piano) interface and a huge composing software program beautifully. Soon afterwards I ended up working with a truly odd computer network at a genetic research group. I had a Power Mac that ran a cross-windows UNIX platform to run our study databases (as did the rest of the administrative staff). The study coordinators had UNIX SPARC stations, and then we had stupid Dells from which to run statistical Windows software not available for Mac (or things that the short-sighted bigger conglomerate for which we worked only made available to their narrow Windows choices. I love how you can run pc-compatible-formatted disks on a Mac beautifully, but stupid Windows machines canâ??t read a Mac-formatted disk. So I could easily transfer things back and forth to my Mac just by using the pc-formatted disks. And let me tell you, when things went wrong with our little network, our connections to the bigger networks, or general buggy things happened, the Macs always fared the best.
In short, Windows is the anti-Christ. Machines that run Windows are poor, ugly mish-mash glorified typewriters with components from three billion sources far-flung all over the world. I will admit â?? I am content to use the Microsoft Office Suite (though I think the â??nativeâ?? OS X version was the best Iâ??d seen so far - sadly I only got to use it for but a brief moment). Even now, I could find the boxes with our Power Mac 8600 (which replaced my little Mac Classic II) and still do a hell of a lot on it (though I would have OS X envy and such). Thatâ??s the thing â?? user-friendly, stylish, more reliable than hideous Windows machines and outmoded at a MUCH slower rate.
Sorry to rant. You inadvertently raised my â??Appleâ?? hackles.
dr goateye
heh, i hate macs! just ask grettir. I don’t like windows but i would take it over a mac any day of the week. blah! my apple has a worm in it, and it is bitter to the taste..
Kate
Okay, so in this instance, at least, you are e.e. cummings except with more punctuation and an abhorrence ofâ?Šfruit. TOO BAD SO SAD. RASPBERRIES (a la Carol Channing)!
But I really like your photographsâ?Šsoâ?Šsigh(?)
Complete non-sequitur about the Scofield area: I wend to a Clear Creek summer camp in that area for a week between the summer of my fifth and sixth grade years. The cabins were actually former company mining housing (from the 1920â??s, I think), and other than a some botany, some entomology (I always say I never win anything, but I won best overall collector â?? I got a plaster owl trophy â?? and for those who are wondering, NO I donâ??t still have it (at least I donâ??t think I doâ?Š)), and the construction of live animal traps out of those big ten-pound tin cans (so we could catch varmints and conduct rabies experiments?) they told us almost non-stop about the Scofield Mining disaster of 1900. We hiked through the cemetery, where we saw all the many graves from that one infamous day (and they proceeded to tell us a â??ghostâ?? legend about a mausoleum there â?? perfect fare for eleven-year-olds). We also hiked to the mouth of the mine No. 4 so they could tell us stories about how many coffins had been shipped in and how far so-and-so and been blown in the air and so on. We went to several other dilapidated mining sites a few run-down buildings and mining carts and such. We also listened to a recording of â??Sixteen Tonsâ?? repeatedly (I shouldnâ??t admit how much I like that song). This experience resonated with me in an odd way: I have been to many, many beautiful recreational areas in Utah, but I havenâ??t gone back to Scofield. Wait â?? they took us back during the winter of sixth grade for a few days and we went snow shoeing. But other than THAT I havenâ??t been back there. Just too many dead miner ghosts.
jenny
Kate, I caught “Sixteen Tons” on the radio the other afternoon (I only listen to the “Over 60” stations) and couldn’t stop singing it. I especially like the part where he sneaks in a bit early with a rumbling, “Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiif you see me comin’ better—step aside. Alot ‘o men didn’t, alot ‘o men died. One fist of iron, the other of steel: if the right one don’t a’ getcha then the left one will…”
It was just one of those fabulous, sunny, roll-down-the-windows sort of fall days, and I was off for a blissful hour or two at D.I., singing at the top of my lungs and tooling down Carterville road at about 35 mph, my skull ricocheting off the roof of the car as I hit each of the speed bumps.
(Maybe that explains the set of “Beautiful Bismark, North Dakota!” oven mits that came home with me…)
My Clear Creek memories: acrylic ice cubes with earwigs in the center; deathly boring late-1960’s films on elk migration and official state flowers every night; and the song “The water here at Clear Creek they say is mighty fine–it looks like chicken gumbo, and tastes like turpentine!”
Kate
I’d forgottent the memorializing of insects in acrylic. I wonder what I chose? I don’t think I considered the earwig; what a classic choice. Even though I did win “Best Collector,” which, as I’ve said is one of the few awards I’ve received in my life - or prizes, for that matter. I won a used video, once. Of the choices I had, I opted for “Cocoon.” Hmmm. Anyway, the insect-collecting portion (versus the botanical collection and identification) was, shall we say, scarring. I remember we would pin bees onto the foam after they’d been in the kill jar for a billion years and then hear them buzz and try to fly away in the middle of the night.
Thank you, also, for the reminder of the clever water rhyme. Do you remember the trauma of the group showering experience (certainly my first)? I have to admit that my Mother, in her great wisdom, allowed me to wear a bra to camp (an article that I definitely did NOT need at the time). It was, I suppose, my social-acceptance brassiere. Ah, the good ol’ days.
Kate
Holy tune cooties and ear worms, Batman!!! Now, over and over in my head I’m hearing, “I owe my soul to the company store…” *snap,* *snap,* *snap*… Do you think they sell “Sixteen Tons” on iTunes???
jenny
If they don’t, they’ve got Tennesee Ernie’s “Greatest Hits” album on Amazon. (And for those of you unfortunate souls who’ve never heard this hypnotic melody, you can catch a snatch of it here, complete with Kate’s “I owe my soul…” and *snap,* *snap,* *snap.*
And hey–who knew that he sang “The Ballad of Davy Crockett”? Dang! Now that’s what I call versatility…
To be honest, I don’t think that I could find a good enough bug for my acrylic ice cube, so I put a “pretty rock” inside instead. Like the acrylic’s gonna hold that rock more-still so that you can get a closer, unimpeded look at it–from all angles.
(P.S. Clear Creek mandatory locker-room-style showers = Hell on earth.)