Reports from the Electronic Frontier: Online, Offline, On the Road Tom Maddox As I pointed out in one of these columns more than a year ago, the geography of the electronic frontier differs from mundane geography -- in several important ways. I said, "What is important in network connections is not the geographical proximity of two or more machines but the ways -- they connect. If I have a very fast and continuous connection to a computer three thousand or more miles away, then we are very "close" to one -- another; if I have a slow and intermittent connection to one in my neighborhood, -- we are very 'far'." This is true as far as it goes, but I neglected to point out that when we travel, geography changes. My fast local connection becomes a fast long distance connection or becomes very difficult to access because of the vagaries of equipment and systems as I travel from place to place. This summer I drove from Oakland, California across the midwest, up into Canada past Toronto, to Montreal; then down to Maine; to the Jersey Shore; to Virginia; to Austin, Texas; to San Diego; to Oakland once more; and up to Olympia, Washington: a trip of more than ten thousand highway miles. During this time I experienced the unstable nature of the geography of cyberspace in several ways, most of them irritating. Fortunately for my well-being, my adventures and misadventures in attempting to stay online were only matters of low comedy and inconvenience. I was not a Corporate Pod Seeking Contact with the Mothership, and I did not have to get or send the latest sales data from local nerve gas accounts. I was merely on the road, driving farther and longer than makes good sense, as Americans are wont to do, and trying to stay online as I was doing it. This is just as well because I came to feel that with regard to cyberspace, wilderness can be found anywhere, and the traveler is always in immediate danger of dropping off the map. I had my new Mac Powerbook, my Supra high-speed modem, and appropriate cables: I figured I was moderately well prepared to stay in touch while traveling. True, I did not have a techie's or nerd's connection kit, containing items such as alligator clips and wire strippers, but as I say, my remaining online was a matter of convenience, not necessity, and I thought I could forfeit a few opportunities to do so if inappropriate plugs or wiring were the issue. And experience proved me right. Lack of a plug was almost never the problem. Everything else was. Let's start with simple things. Always buy an external modem: this is advice I have heard for years, and it has seemed, by and large, sensible. An external modem can be hooked and unhooked easily and so serve different machines, even different kinds of machines, so you can use it for your MSDOS computer at work and your Mac at home, and soon. And an external modem does not take up one of the often scarce slots in your computer. However-- An external modem usually must be plugged in to an electrical outlet, and in my experience this summer, this can be, oh, a problem. To put the matter shortly, necessary outlets are typically either fully occupied by nests of plugs or located in grotesquely inconvenient places, such as behind the center of the headboard of a king-size bed that has been bolted to the floor of the motel room. As a result, I sometimes found myself attempting feats appropriate to a simultaneous combination of stevedore and contortionist as I attempted to plug in my modem. And while I see the probable spiritual benefit of acting out scenes from The Nutty Professor, I don't really enjoy doing so after at the end of a day on the road, a time when I am typically physically stiff and mentally deficient. However, I believe my wife appreciated my end-of-day antics, if only as testimony, were it needed, that prolonged involvement with this technology can make you act stupid. Hence my first bit of advice to the traveler who wants to stay online: when you travel, if you can, use an internal modem. My second bit of advice, also from knowledge acquired painfully: bring the modem manual with you. If you travel, you almost certainly will be required to employ odd commands and codes, and unless you're either extremely knowledgeable or experienced, you almost certainly will not know them. I know this because I mistakenly stuck the modem manual in a box which was promptly shipped out of town and put into storage, and so during my trip I was reminded regularly of how handy it would be to know my modem's commands. To take a simple case, assume you are in a motel where you have plugged in your modem and your computer, and you are ready to get online, and you discover that the following,common conditions obtain. You must,typically, dial a long string of numbers: perhaps an 8 and 0 to connect to a long-distance line, then the number you'recalling, then (more on this in a moment) your credit card number; all with appropriate pauses inserted to allow switching to take place. So, at a minimum, you need to know how to dial an arbitrary string of numbers and how to insert pauses into it. Simply dialing long-distance to your service at the motel's rates will be very expensive, but you can also make a telephone credit card call--that is, you can use anAT&T, GTE, Sprint, or other calling card tomake a relatively cheap connection. Thus my next hint: be willing to endure the trail-and-error process of sending the sequence ofletters, numbers, and pauses necessary tomake a credit card connection. Subsidiary hint: have as many calling cards as you can,and bring them all with you. I have found that possession of an alternate long distance card can greatly reduce the difficulty of dialing out from a particular system. Again let me emphasize that you almost certainly will find that using your own card saves you money, as motels and hotels typically charge the most outrageous rates for doing otherwise. Returning to your modem manual, you will also find it handy if you need to adjust to other conditions. For instance, the simplest command used by Hayes compatible modems--which is overwhelmingly the standard thesedays--is "ATDT," which gets the modem's ttention and tells it to dial a number by tone dialing. So, whatever program you useto dial up an online service typically issues a command such as: ATDT 555-5555 However, in some places or on some phones,this will get you nowhere because that system or line does not employ tone dialing; it uses pulse dialing, and your "ATDT" command will get you nowhere. So, depending on your software and how you use it, you have to change the type of dialing to pulse, or you have to use the command string "ATDP." All this is very well. However, even given that you have plugged things in properly and issued what should be the appropriate strings of commands, you still may not be able to connect. For instance, very early in the trip we stayed at the Little America Hotel in Salt Lake City--call it a hotel or a a motel, but in fact it is a major sub- metropolis staffed by efficient and smiling staff--as my wife remarked, they all appear to be members of the Osmond Family. It offered a startling array of kitschy conveniences: including televisions big and bright enough to use in sports bars and remote control devices that could control tvs, vcrs, and, apparently, the Space Shuttle. I thought, here there'll be no problem. Sure enough, I discovered that the phone was connected to one of two conveniently located plugs, next to a power outlet, and so I cheerfully got ready go log on. Alas, nothing worked. After about half an hour of increasingly random attempts to solve the non-connection problem, I called the front desk and asked why. Oddly, someone knew something about it--I say oddly because this was the only time on the trip that any human being at any hotel or motel greeted the word "modem" with signs of recognition. The person did not know exactly why a modem wouldn't work but knew it definitely wouldn't. (I imagine that Little America has a digital phone system for its rooms, by the way, and that is what confounds modems, but I wouldn't swear to it.) There were special rooms, I was told, available on request and at an increased rate, where modems could be used. Alternatively, I was invited to come to the office (in the "Tower") and use one of their phone lines. So I ended up phoning in a Locus column from the inner sanctum of Little America with my Powerbook on my knees. At some other stops, nothing worked. The phone system didn't function as advertised, and no one could explain why or suggest alternative measures. The locals perhaps even used one or more computers to take reservations, but they appeared startled at the notion that someone had a computer and modem in their room and wanted to call out using these devices. Anecdotally, I'll just note that there was a strong correlation between badness of food and difficulty of getting online (though to be fair I should note that there is almost as strong a correlation between badness of food and traveling across the United States). And at yet another stop, I found myself sending myself a fax--that is, from my motel room to the motel office--because I didn't have a printer with me and needed hard copy. So, my next hint for the would-be online traveler: stay loose. Line noise, primitive phone systems, phones that emit ghastly noises at random (this in Ashland, Oregon, by the way, which surprised me given that Ashland is Turistaville to the Max): somedays you can't get there from here. But often you can. Arm yourself with modems and cables (the longer the better, by the way),modem and software manuals, and, if you wish,alligator clips and diagonal pliers, and youcan, with a little knowledge and much more patience actually get online most days.A Few Events From the Road, Advertisements for Myself Department: we took the Deep South route returning west in order to get to Austin, Texas, a city that has considerable credentials with regard to cyberspace: for some years Armadillocon, held there during October, has been theunofficial cyberpunk convention; the SteveJackson Games cause celebre took place there;it is home to various computer hardware and software companies (and MCC, Inc., the United States' answer to the Japanese "Fifth Generation Project") and the only extant local chapter of the Electronic Frontier Foundation. However, we went there to see theCapital City Playhouse's adaptation of my short story "Snake Eyes," which has had a much longer shelf life than I would have imagined due to its inclusion in the Mirrorshades anthology. The adaptation is perhaps of more than narcissistic interest, given that the staging involved a considerable amount of computer graphics including even interactive graphics. The interactive technology evolved as a kind of onstage videogame, used at raves for instance, that allows full-body play without the need for special controls. The"player's" image is captured by a videocamera and superimposed on the onscreen images. There were a few glitches during early performances of the play, but overall I was amazed at the smoothness of the interaction between a complex technology and a live art form. Other than the interactive system, the play also used some very nice graphic images,both still and animated. At its best moments, the effect of the play was something like that of a live Laurie Anderson concert,which I consider high praise. (I should note that the play was scheduled to run from July 28 to August 28,so by the time you read this, the play will have closed.) On a related note, when we returned to the Bay Area, I found that a type of upscale video game arcade had opened in Walnut Creek that employed technology similar to that in the adaptation of "Snake Eyes" in that it attempts to bridge the gap between mere game and virtual reality. Called Virtual World, the place is in fact an ambitious effort to create a new--or at least slightly different--market: highbandwidth videogames that you play in realtime against others; games that also have a fairly extensive science fictional wrapping. In this case, I think the creators, whoever they are, should footnote Philip Jose Farmer,because they use the notion of a lateVictorian alternate reality where Alexander Graham Bell and Nikola Tesla created a"Virtual Geographic League" to the end of"discovering and exploring other dimensions, or virtual worlds." (There's even a portraitof Sir Richard Burton, Farmer's favorite explorer, hanging in the "Explorer's Lounge." There's big money behind this and other, similar efforts. Disney money is involved,in the person of Roy E. Disney, Jr., son of Walt, and other, soon to be virtually real enterprises are due from heavy players such as Spectrum Holobyte, which plans a series of centers on the "Star Trek" model, among other things. I don't want to make these games sound too enticing. The Virtual World arcade is selling at least as much sizzle as steak, at least at this point: virtual reality it isn't. In fact, you sit in a little cockpit much like those found in race car games in ordinary video arcades, where you have a plethora of controls, screens, and readouts. According to testimony given by staff and players, you can master the more complex controls and associated data outputs only through prolonged use at $7 a shot. Nonetheless, I have no doubt that we are witnessing the very early stages of the Next Big Thing in electronic entertainment, and I would bet that if you didn't like videogames, you'll really hate what's coming next. However, if you liked these earlier manifestations, you'll love pseudo-vr games. ======================================================================= This document is from the WELL gopher server: gopher://gopher.well.com Questions and comments to: gopher@well.com .