If what we're hearing in the trade sites is correct, the brand new ultra-mobile Eee PC 901 will be released in the next few days. However, the price point is supposed to be close to the $650 mark, which is a far cry from the sub-$400 sweet spot of the 701. Still, I'm eying that one carefully for my road kit, given how well my own 701 has performed. This is a little follow-up to my original mini-review.

Well, it didn't take me long to realise that I wasn't very fond of the Xandros Linux distribution that comes stock with the Eee PC 701. Don't get me wrong: it's great for newbies to Linux or for those users who want a static system that "just works" without feeling the foolish desire to tinker or to be on the bleeding edge. But, for better or worse, that's not me.

Most of my frustration was the result of a significant portion of the file system where the operating system and installed programs are stored -- to protect newbies from "messing up" the operating system, it's read-only. Yup, can't screw up what you can't change. But I didn't realise my inability to write to it at first, and was wondering why all my free space was rapidly disappearing whenever I upgraded the built-in applications. It seems that the old versions remained hidden and inactive, while the upgrades started taking up huge chunks of the valuable two gigabytes of storage space. For example, an upgrade of OpenOffice.org didn't take up a dozen more megabytes, as it would seem: instead, it took up a few hundred megabytes. Lesson learned: don't bother with any significant upgrades.

Isometric grid notebook for fast technology isometric blueprints.
http://trigrey.com/wp/?p=9

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Okay, I can be a little obsessive. (For example, see my recent posts about fountain pens, fountain pens, fountain pens, and ...erm... fountain pens.) Unfortunately, combined with my persistent belief that my next productivity tool could be the non plus ultra, this can translate into drawers filled with unused gadgets, bookcases jammed with partially used planners and notebooks, and a selection of writing utensils that would shame any office supply store. And, although I am embarrassed to admit it, while I tend towards the intimacy of pen and paper, the tinker in me is certainly inclined towards items demonstrating an almost awkward complexity. But do those help me be more productive? Rarely.

I've mentioned not only my Macs in these pages, but my Palms, my Newtons, and various other attempts to find a perfect portable writing machine that also allows for efficient time management. The Newton eMate 300 (or alternatively, the Newton MessagePad 2100 with keyboard) was the closest thing thus far, as it offered me the ability to write without being tempted by the distractions of the web, use the amazing MoreInfo to structure my days, and have a smallish and rugged package that lasted up to 20 hours. But, as attractive as the Newtons were, I started yearning for the ability to look up online resources, draw small diagrams, send email, sync easily with my other computers, and so on, all of which are possible on the Newtons, but not easy nor intuitive. The thought of typing several dozen pages on a cramped smartphone thumb-board while the battery ticks down didn't seem to offer any respite. What I needed was a very small laptop... a subnotebook, and one that wouldn't cost a fortune. And then, I unexpectedly received one: an Asus Eee PC 701 4G Surf, currently going for an average retail value of roughly $350 USD ($400 for the non-Surf model, which means it has a webcam).

I eyed it suspiciously. Small, clunky, inexpensive, tiny-screened, Linuxy, and therefore decidedly un-Mac-like. Could it fit the bill?

These templates are designed for game developers and can be used for planning and tracking the game development process. It is a work in progress, so new forms will be added on a regular basis.

This is a Two Up version of the Machine Profile template by Eric Farris

A form for keeping track of computers: IP addresses, inventory information, Make/Model, etc.

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I'm constantly looking for new ways to write. Sometimes, of course, paper is my first and most effective resource, but there are other times when I just want to pound away at a keyboard with a digital end in mind. I do have a nice shiny MacBook Pro, but between its bottom searing the flesh of my lap, its bevy of powerful applications, and the network access chiming the arrival of my email and luring me into the world wide abyss, well... focus becomes an issue. I've thought for years about getting an Alphasmart Neo or Dana, but I'm not sure the usage will warrant the cost.

Two weeks ago, I wrote about my new(-to-me) Apple Newton, and how I've recently become smitten by this ten-year-old technology. Since then, I've received a near-mint Apple eMate 300 Newton for roughly $10, and have decided to use it as a writing platform. In fact, this post is entirely written with its built-in word processor. Consider it a little experiment.

I have a little confession to make. Now, most people that know me well have no doubt that I'm a gadget freak and a tinkerer, although I do try at every moment to curb those tendencies. For example, after all those years of using several generations of Palms, I gave them up to use a paper planner, and have been quite happy about that decision. To this day, I refuse to carry a cell phone unless I'm travelling in the middle of nowhere or have to be on call for an urgent project. I eschew a workshop of testosterone-fueled power tools if I can use my Leatherman instead. And, although I've read a few shelves' worth of books about automotive mechanics, I resist the urge to prop open the hood, lest something explodes or some sharp bits leave me digitally impaired. I know my weaknesses and limitations.

But I've harboured an urge for twelve years that's never been satisfied. Every now and then, a product comes along that changes the face of the computing industry, like the Altair or the Apple II, and my coming-of-age as an IT professional was marked --from afar-- by the emergence of another one. It was a brick-shaped thing, barely able to fit into a trenchcoat pocket, and which emitted a gorgeous green glow. It was a thing initially of ridicule, but that quickly set a precedent for portable computing before being unceremoniously axed by Steve Jobs upon his return to Apple, leaving legions of fans supporting the device for a decade after its last production run. I'm speaking, of course, about the Apple MessagePad, also known as the Newton.

Yes, we all love beautiful paper and pens and leather binders and every second item on the shelves of a stationery store. And yes, many of us tend to take notes, write drafts, brainstorm, manage our time, and sketch on paper. But sooner or later, there comes a time when what we write or produce has to wind up in a digital form for sharing with others. For example, my journal and index cards may be the foundation for the articles I write here, but sooner or later I have to put fingers to keys and pound out the words.

But, like most tinkerers attracted to shiny metal objects, it's hard to keep distraction at bay. For example, while I dearly love (though not quite in a carnal sense) my new MacBook Pro, all the bells and whistles conspire to turn my attention from writing. Each bleep of my Google Gmail Notifier, which word or idea or link I want to look up, each Amazon book I want to link to, each photo I need to take and resize and optimise....

What was I saying? Oh, yes... it's hard to keep on topic with so many distractions.

So, the paper angle is covered; I have plenty of focus there. What I need is some way to write without digital distraction.

If it keeps up, man will atrophy all his limbs but the push-button finger. --Frank Lloyd Wright

When I was a child of ten, I had a hamster named Pedro. He wasn't of the lazy, obese, hairy persuasion, but instead was about as energetic and lithe as a hamster presumably gets. He enjoyed crawling endlessly through the tubes I constructed all over my bedroom, a bizarre concoction of plumbing and modern architecture, and I would watch, fascinated, at this little creature who was under the impression that he was actually going somewhere. And then he would drop down into his cage from another angle and look around in that peculiar hamsteresque bewildered way, wondering why he was back where he started. He would avoid his wheel, though, since even that little mind could clearly conceive that he wasn't advancing in any direction.

Recently, I feel rather like a hamster.