A few months ago, I accidentally deleted a chat history with a friend. The chat refracted in some way the history of our friendship since its beginning. But it contained no important information, no great thoughts on either side, or at least not many. This was not a great loss. I could just forget about it, I told myself. Most of us do. We lose, and we move on - usually. What matters always is the life we live, the now and next, not the bytes of info we send and receive. And we can lose far greater things, anyway – a family heirloom, even a house. We all lose memories. We all lose our childhood, and past times. And of course, the people we love.
Ramallah, downtown, fifth floor. The phone rings and the caller's number appears on the screen. It's an unknown number. And yet a call that comes at this hour must be answered.
رام الله، وسط البلد، الطابق الخامس. يرن الهاتف ويظهر رقم المتّصل على الشاشة. إنه ليس لأحد معارفنا، فالرقم غير معروف. مع ذلك، يتطلّبُ اتصال هاتفي في ساعة مبكِّرةٍ كهذه الردَّ عليه.
Google's rise to dominance can seem inevitable, and its power over publishers monolithic. Yet Google’s wanton disruption of publishing resembles evolution more than intelligent design. Journalists, publishers, regulators, and scholars are left grappling with our new, random god.
Googles Dominanz erscheint heute unausweichlich. Googles mutwillige Störung des Verlagswesens ähnelt eher der Evolution als intelligentem Design. Journalisten, Verleger, Regulierungsbehörden und Wissenschaftler müssen mit ihrer neuen, chaotischen Gottheit zu Recht kommen.
A logo might start as a designer’s whim. Only then does one look for meanings to fill it with. On Europas: mythic, artistic, fictional, political, psychological, satirical, and finally unfinished.