We are splintering what was the 'camera' and its functionality - lens, sensors, and processing - into distinct parts, but, instead of lenses and shutters, software and algorithms are becoming the driving force.
Instead of standing in the way, technology is increasingly an enabler of emotion. A message at the wrong time at dinner can turn a gourmet dish into something insipid because of the interruption.
For the longest time, computers have been associated with work. Mainframes were for the Army, government agencies, and then large companies. Workstations were for engineers and software programmers. PCs were initially for other white-collar jobs.
Whether it is through stock-market trading or the sale of hotel rooms, the Internet has a way of bringing deflationary forces to all businesses that were hitherto inefficient and involved many middlemen.
I want fewer interruptions in my day. I have eliminated a lot of things from my life. I'm on a declining scale of wanting things.
When I see Kickstarter, I don't see a company. Instead, I see a social movement. I see people doing things for people.
Cameras can look down from on high and predict crop yields, traffic in Walmart parking lots, and travel patterns on Labor Day weekend. On the ground, they form the foundation of autonomous-driving systems.
For me, stories are like Lego blocks. If I don't put one down, I can't put the next one down.
There is better than a good chance that while relaxing on a beach somewhere or sipping a martini in your favorite lounge, you have heard music that makes raise your eyebrow and ask, 'What kind of music is that?'
For a while, I have had this theory that we, as a society, are coming to the end of the mass production, industrial phase of the human race.
The marriage of computing and connectivity without the shackles of being tethered to a location is one of the biggest disruptive forces of modern times.
Many companies that become verbs actually end up modifying our behaviors, and companies that modify behaviors end up becoming behemoths.
Its definition can be a bit murky, but to me, native advertising is a sales pitch that fits right into the flow of the information being shown. It doesn't interrupt - native ads don't pop up or dance across the screen - and its content is actually valuable to the person viewing it.
I like the muted sounds, the shroud of grey, and the silence that comes with fog.
There are days when I look at my news feed, and it seems like a social fabric of fun - a video of the first steps of my friends' baby! My nephew's prom date! On other days, it feels like a NASCAR vehicle, plastered with news stories, promoted posts, lame Live videos, and random content.
On my end, I am still surprised that many media organizations are unable to adapt to new media formats and, more importantly, new network behaviors.
The battle between Google and Apple has shifted from devices, operating systems, and apps to a new, amorphous idea called 'contextual computing.' We have become data-spewing factories, and the only way to make sense of it all is through context.
Writing works when publications are writing and serving the best interest of their users; numbers are good yardstick but not a way to compensate a person.
Most of the stress we feel here in Silicon Valley is self-inflicted.
Before we had the Internet, we would either call or write to our friends, one at a time, and keep up with their lives. It was a slow process and took a lot of effort and time to learn about each other.
