Hereish, nowish

We live in the great databasing of everything. Already can you step off your business class flight, into the city below and find yourself a bar/restaurant perfectly suited to your bland taste, where you can sit on your own pondering the meaning of your pitiful, mechanistic existence. And you can do it without interacting with a soul, save for pointing at a menu and handing over your credit card. And that’s just the beginning. It’s going to be great.

The problem with these geolocative services is that they assume you’re a precise, rational human, behaving as economists expect. No latitude for the unexpected; they’re determined to replace every unnecessary human interaction with the helpful guide in your pocket.

Red dot fever enforces a precision into your design that the rest must meet to feel coherent. There’s no room for the hereish, nowish, thenish and soonish. The ‘good enough‘.

I’m vaguely tempted to shutdown iamnear, to be reborn as iamnearish. The Blue Posts is north of you, about five minutes walk away. Have a wander around, or ask someone. You’ll find it.