RFID possibilities...

There's been lots of buzz about RFID (radio frequency identification, if memory serves) lately. Part of it has been fueled by statements to the effect that Wal-Mart is going to require them in all of the inventory it stocks. While this may be true, the ubiquitous RFID chip is still a few years away, until the economics of scale bring the price down to a fraction of a cent.

The idea behind the technology is to be able to embed a 128-bit code in a tiny device that is attached to the item being tracked. When the device is "interrogated" by a radio frequency signal, it uses part of the power in the signal to generate a response, which includes its embedded code. To complete the transaction, the response is picked up by the interrogating sensor and the code is extracted and something is done with it.

Unlike the bar codes of today, which can be used to identify cans of Sprite and packages of Winston cigarettes, the RFID technology theoretically has the capability to provide unique number for every individual can of soda and every individual cigarette manufactured. (Heck, one article I read said the technology could provide an ID number for every grain of rice on the planet.)

Fledgling trials using the technology are not going so well, primarily due to privacy concerns. A recent test was to have been done in England, where store customers picking up a package of RFID-coded razor blades from a store display would have their photos snapped; presumably, if a picked-up package never made it through the checkout, one might conclude it was shoplifted, and the photo of the person picking up that package might turn out to be evidence of a crime.

A public outcry caused the store to back down from doing the test, but it got me to thinking of some of the innovative ways the technology might be used, apart from simply keeping track of us and collecting massive amounts of marketing data on us.

As an example, consider that pack of cigarettes I mentioned. Consider legislating a requirement for, yes, each cigarette to have its own RFID chip. Then legislate a requirement for each purchaser of a package to have their identification (e.g., driving license) swiped to (a) prove that the pack had been sold to a legal buyer, and (b) to tie the cigarettes to the buyer.

The added cost and inconvenience would not be a problem because one can do virtually anything to smokers these days and not have to worry about a backlash. Moreover, the data could be used in creative ways, such as: the purchase of a pack of cigarettes might automatically brand one a "smoker" for insurance purposes (the insurance lobby would love this), or for purposes of rationing medical care when the health care system is eventually completely socialized. And this could be done even if the purchaser doesn't actually smoke (e.g., X merely buys a pack for Y because, say, Y is not carrying his ID).

From there on, the sky is really the limit. Public places fitted with appropriate sensors may become verboten to people simply carrying cigarettes, given suitable policies and/or legislation. Or consider this: if a minor is found with a cigarette you bought, you might face a fine (if it's not your kid), or an appointment with the local "child protective services" agency (if it is). Or the littering police may appear at your door with a court summons to appear and explain why one of your cigarettes was found inappropriately disposed of (i.e., on the street).

And I'm sure I am not even scratching the surface of this.

There's a story in here, somewhere.

Cheers...

This and that...

Natalie and I watched The Two Towers yesterday afternoon. I could not help but shake the feeling that it was an exercise in marching in place, lifting the knees high, while the parade figuratively waits for a traffic light to change. I get the feeling one really needs to watch a film like that soon after having watched the first film. Indeed, that it will be profitable to watch the first and second films before going out to watch the third.

I enjoyed the film, in general, although having just recently finished John Ringo's Gust Front, a military sci-fi novel in which earthlings repel landings by overwhelming numbers of unfriendly ETs, the battle scene near the end of the The Two Towers was a little hard to take.

* * *I picked up a Conklin crescent-fill fountain pen on eBay a couple of weeks ago, for a good price (i.e., one that is noticeably less than what these pens normally go for). Interestingly enough, the pen - which was probably manufactured somewhere about 80-90 years ago - is operational having been restored by the fellow I bought it from.

The Conklin company was one of the major pen manufacturers of the early part of the 20th century. The "crescent-fill" feature refers to the method for filling the rubber sac that holds the ink supply, and is manifested by a crescent-shaped brass piece that sticks out of the pen about halfway up the barrel. Mark Twain endorsed the pen, and part of his pitch mentioned the fact that, among other benefits, the pen's design (with the crescent sticking out from the side) curtailed his use of profanity, since the design kept the pen from rolling off his desk onto the floor. Having seen what can happen when pens do that - both from the point of view of ink splatter and pen damage - I know what the man was talking about.

Twain's delivery was snappier, and funnier, no doubt.

The Conklin I bought is described as a ladies' pen, which means, I suppose, that one could expect it to be smaller than models made for men. Indeed, unposted (i.e., without the top stuck onto the back end of the barrel), the pen measures about 4 inches in length. You can just lay it diagonally across a business card without having it protrude beyond the edges of the card.

Despite the relatively small size, I really like this pen, especially when the cap is posted, which adds about an inch and a half to its length. The downside to posting such a pen is the risk of cracking or otherwise damaging the cap if you put it on too hard or are careless when taking it off. The pen material is "chased" hard rubber (something to look up on the Internet when I have the inclination and time), and more than a few of the listings I've seen on eBay - and I've looked at probably around 50 - list a damaged/cracked cap as a flaw.

Unlike the rest of my "collection" this pen's nib (a #2 medium) is semi-flexible. This basically means that the width of the line drawn by the nib will vary with the pressure the writer puts on it. I can write painfully thin lines, and I can also write in boldface. I suppose, if I practice, my hand-scrawl could even assume a semi-calligraphical appearance. This kind of behavior certainly does not obtain with, say, with my Mont Blanc Meisterstück, whose nib is very stiff and lays down a uniform line. I've written a couple of snail-mail letters with the Conklin, and I find it a joy to use.

Conventional wisdom has it that it takes a couple of months of pretty constant use for a pen to become "broken in," to where the nib adjusts itself to a typical angle associated with being held by a particular hand (the reason why, it is said, one should never lend out one's fountain pen... it throws this adjustment off).

If there is a downside to using the pen, it's that it lays down more ink than I am used to seeing (especially when I press down on the nib).

Anyway, relief should be showing up any minute. Time to put up my stuff and get ready to boogie.

Cheers...