Some days it seems I can’t drink enough cool water. Other days I feel like screaming at people I don’t even know. Unrelated, these two urges are.

Panic Software has a noble reputation in the world of Mac shareware authoring. Several years ago, I purchased both their skinnable Audion MP3 player (which I, like a lot of people, retired after iTunes came along) and bulletproof Transmit FTP client (which I still use almost every day). I have yet to try out their Usenet client Unison but hear it’s won numerous awards. Now, they’re offering a line of t-shirts. I just ordered this ‘Spinner’ design which is taken from the Mac OS X startup and shutdown busy icon. Geeky? Maybe. Stylin’? Check.

I’ve come to believe that digital tools should not replace analog tools if they don’t improve or add value by becoming digital. For example, taking notes with a pen and notepad is still superior to scribbling text into a PDA: it’s faster and leaves behind something tangible (whether as a physical reminder or something to collect and file). I’ve long thought making music on a synthesizer with keys and knobs is more engaging to me than using a mouse to twiddle virtual knobs on the screen. I’ve noticed this physicality stimulates me to make (I believe) better music, even though the equipment in my studio can take up much more space and become ‘obsolete’ much sooner than software (which can be constantly updated).

However, when these tools are replaced with something digital, they may in some ways surpass the limitations of the physical: a digital note taking system can index word counts and analyze content to create links between separate notes in ways a pen and paper system cannot; a software instrument can create oscillator and filter combinations using signal paths and synthesis methods that just aren’t possible with analog means (not to mention on a potentially larger ’scale’).

It is essential these digital tools supply easier means for our interacting with them if they’re to become preferrable: writing notes on a PDA should be exactly like writing them on paper; some kind of keyboard or mixing control surface is all but essential to bridge the tangibility gap that comes from software instruments. Also, we mustn’t replace these analog tools entirely, as their physicality results in a nature and charm that will never be emulated. Hence our lingering fascination with the scratches and tone of a vinyl record, the warm indiosynchrasies of the analog synthesizer, the character of manual typewriters, the grain and flutter of old movies, and so on.

There’s something to be said for NOT always being on top of things.

The morning after a double dose of NyQuil always feels like I’m swimming through cottony air. Please let the sunlight burn-off this fog in my mind.