I thought lately about what has changed in my life over the years. People change (even if they don't admit it). And there are always some sort of triggers that cause these changes. Some people start a habit of running, maybe; some start hanging out with friends who

Creating a skincare brand means crafting an experience down to the finest detail. The packaging: A sculptural bottle topped with...

The other day I was working on something where I needed to use CSS to apply multiple background images to an element, e.g. <div> My content with background images. </div> <style> div { background-image: url(image-one.jpg), url(image-two.jpg); background-position: top right, bottom left; /* etc. */ } </style> As I was tweaking the appearance of these images, I found myself wanting to control the opacity of each one. A voice in my head from circa 2012 chimed in, “Um, remember Jim, there is no background-opacity rule. Can’t be done.” Then that voice started rattling off the alternatives: You’ll have to use opacity but that will apply to the entire element, which you have text in, so that won’t work. You’ll have to create a new empty element, apply the background images there, then use opacity. Or: You can use pseudo elements (:before & :after), apply the background images to those, then use opacity. Then modern me interrupted this old guy. “I haven’t reached for background-opacity in a long time. Surely there’s a way to do this with more modern CSS?” So I started searching and found this StackOverflow answer which says you can use background-color in combination with background-blend-mode to achieve a similar effect, e.g. div { /* Use some images */ background-image: url(image-one.jpg), url(image-two.jpg); /* Turn down their 'opacity' by blending them into the background color */ background-color: rgba(255,255,255,0.6); background-blend-mode: lighten; } Worked like a charm! It probably won’t work in every scenario like a dedicated background-image-opacity might, but for my particular use case at that moment in time it was perfect! I love little moments like this where I reach to do something in CSS that was impossible back when I really cut my teeth on the language, and now there’s a one- or two-line modern solution! [Sits back and gets existential for a moment.] We all face moments like this where we have to balance leveraging hard-won expertise with seeking new knowledge and greater understanding, which requires giving up the lessons of previous experience in order to make room for incorporating new lessons of experiences. It’s hard to give up the old, but it’s the only way to make room for the new — death of the old is birth of the new. Email · Mastodon · Bluesky

Situated within the tranquil and upscale neighborhood of the Thonglor area in Bangkok, the PLP City range presents an innovative...

How elimination, curation, and optimization can help us see through the technological mirror. Technology functions as both mirror and lens — reflecting our self-image while simultaneously shaping how we see everything else. This metaphor of recursion, while perhaps obvious once stated, is one that most people instinctively resist. Why this resistance? I think it is because the observation is not only about a kind of recursion, but it is itself recursive. The contexts in which we discuss technology’s distorting effects tend to be highly technological — internet-based forums, messaging, social media, and the like. It’s difficult to clarify from within, isn’t it? When we try to analyze or critique a technology while using it to do so, it’s as if we’re critiquing the label from inside the bottle. And these days, the bottle is another apt metaphor; it often feels like technology is something we are trapped within. And that’s just at the surface — the discussion layer. It goes much deeper. It’s astounding to confront the reality that nearly all the means by which we see and understand ourselves are technological. So much of modern culture is in its artifacts, and the rest couldn’t be described without them. There have been oral traditions, of course, but once we started making things, they grew scarce. For a human in the twenty-first century, self awareness, cultural identification, and countless other aspects of existence are all, in some way or another, technological. It’s difficult to question the mirror’s image when we’ve never seen ourselves without it. The interfaces through which we perceive ourselves and interpret the world are so integrated into our experience that recognizing their presence, let alone their distorting effects, requires an almost impossible perspective shift. Almost impossible. Because of course it can be done. In fact, I think it’s a matter of small steps evenly distributed throughout a normal lifestyle. It’s not a matter of secret initiation or withdrawing from society, though I think it can sometimes feel that way. How, then, can one step outside the mirror’s view? I’ve found three categories of action particularly helpful: Elimination One option we always have is to simply not use a thing. I often think about how fascinating it is that to not use a particular technology in our era seems radical — truly counter-cultural. The more drastic rejecting any given technology seems, the better an example it is of how dependent we have become upon it. Imagine how difficult a person’s life would be today if they were to entirely reject the internet. There’s no law in our country against opting out of the internet, but the countless day-to-day dependencies upon the it nearly amount to a cumulative obligation to be connected to it. Nevertheless, a person could do it. Few would, but they could. This kind of “brute force” response to technology has become a YouTube genre — the “I Went 30 Days Without ____” video is quite popular. And this is obviously because of how much effort it requires to eliminate even comparatively minor technologies from one’s life. Not the entire internet, but just social media, or just streaming services, or just a particular device or app. Elimination isn’t easy, but I’m a fan of it. The Amish are often thought of as simply rejecting modernity, but that’s not an accurate description of what actually motivates their way of life. Religion plays a foundational role, of course, but each Amish community works together to decide upon many aspects of how they live, including what technologies they adopt. Their guiding principle is whether a thing or practice strengthens their community. And their decision is a collective one. I find that inspiring. When I reject a technology, I do so because I either don’t feel I need it or because I feel that it doesn’t help me live the way I want to live. It’s not forever, and it isn’t with judgement for anyone else but me. These are probably my most radical eliminations: most social media (I still reluctantly have a LinkedIn profile), streaming services (except YouTube), all “smart home” devices of any kind, smartwatches, and for the last decade and counting, laptops. Don’t @ me because you can’t ;) Curation What I have in mind here is curation of information, not of technologies. Since it is simply impossible to consume all information, we all curate in some way, whether we’re aware of it or not. For some, though, this might actually be a matter of what technologies they use — for example, if a person only uses Netflix, then they only see what Netflix shows them. That’s curation, but Netflix is doing the work. However, I think it’s a good exercise to do a bit more curation of one’s own. I believe that if curation is going to be beneficial, it must involve being intentional about one’s entire media diet — what information we consume, from which sources, how frequently, and why. This last part requires the additional work of discerning what motivates and funds various information sources. Few, if any, are truly neutral. The reality is that as information grows in volume, the challenge of creating useful filters for it increases to near impossibility. Information environments operated on algorithms filter information for you based upon all kinds of factors, some of which align with your preferences and many of which don’t. There are many ways to avoid this, they are all more inconvenient than a social media news feed, and it is imperative that more people make the effort to do them. They range from subscribing to carefully-chosen sources, to using specialized apps, feed readers, ad and tracking-blocking browsers and VPNs to control how information gets to you. I recommend all of that and a constant vigilance because, sadly, there is no filter that will only show you the true stuff. Optimization Finally, there’s optimization — the fine-tuning you can do to nearly anything and everything you use. I’ve become increasingly active in seeking out and adjusting even the most detailed of application and device settings, shaping my experiences to be quieter, more limited, and aligned with my intentions rather than the manufacturers’ defaults. I spent thirty minutes nearly redesigning my entire experience in Slack in ways I had never been aware were even possible until recently. It’s made a world of difference to me. Just the other day, I found a video that had several recommendations for altering default settings in Mac OS that have completely solved daily annoyances I have just tolerated for years. I am always adjusting the way I organize files, the apps I use, and the way I use them because I think optimization is always worthwhile. And if I can’t optimize it, I’m likely to eliminate it. None of these approaches offers perfect protection from technological mediation, but together they create meaningful space for more direct control over your experience. But perhaps most important is creating physical spaces that remain relatively untouched by digital technology. I often think back to long trips I took before the era of ubiquitous computing and connection. During a journey from Providence to Malaysia in 2004, I stowed my laptop and cell phone knowing they’d be useless to me during 24 hours of transit. There was no in-cabin wifi, no easy way to have downloaded movies to my machine in advance, no place to even plug anything in. I spent most of that trip looking out the window, counting minutes, and simply thinking — a kind of unoccupied time that has become nearly extinct since then. What makes technological discernment in the digital age particularly challenging is that we’re drowning in a pit of rope where the only escape is often another rope. Information technology is designed to be a nearly wraparound lens on reality; it often feels like the only way to keep using a thing is to use another thing that limits the first thing. People who know me well have probably heard me rant for years about phone cases — “why do I need a case for my case?!” These days, the sincere answer to many peoples’ app overwhelm is another app. It’s almost funny. And yet, I do remain enthusiastic about technology’s creative potential. The ability to shape our world by making new things is an incredible gift. But we’ve gone overboard, creating new technologies simply because we can, without a coherent idea of how they’ll shape the world. This makes us bystanders to what Kevin Kelly describes as “what technology wants” — the agenda inherent in digital technology that makes it far from neutral. What we ultimately seek isn’t escape from technology itself, but recovery of certain human experiences that technology tends to overwhelm: sustained attention, silence, direct observation, unstructured thought, and the sense of being fully present rather than partially elsewhere. The most valuable skill in our digital age isn’t technical proficiency but technological discernment — the wisdom to know when to engage, when to disconnect, and how to shape our tools to serve our deeper human needs rather than allowing ourselves to be shaped by them. “It does us no good to make fantastic progress if we do not know how to live with it.” – Thomas Merton