This is the news!

Being late to the party, I just watched Newswipe while eating breakfast, thereby setting myself up to be thoroughly confused for the rest of the day. Superficially, the show is like a news-oriented version of Brooker’s first-rate TV-bashing Screenwipe being smashed into The Daily Show with a hammer.

Although superior to previous BBC4 Daily Show wannabe The Late Edition—primarily a vehicle for Marcus Brigstocke to be smug and patronising, and Steve Furst to be as unfunny as humanely possible—Newswipe at times left me bewildered, and may just be the instrument that propels reality into a whirling vortex of postmodern news doom.

The problem with Newswipe is the news itself. When Chris Morris parodied the genre, in 1994, via The Day Today, he was remarkably prescient, but still able to stroke the absurd stick until it burst, exaggerating every aspect of the news to comic effect. Unfortunately, the news subsequently became The Day Today. While idiots in 1994 somehow mistook the Morris show for real news (“Sacked chimney sweep pumps boss full of mayonnaise”/”Headmaster jailed for using big-faced child as satellite dish”), today, you’d be hard-pressed to tell the real from the fake, such is the flash, sound-bite-oriented, ratings-grabbing and absurd nature of modern news broadcasting.

And so with Brooker, the show begins with him being Chris Morris (the newsreader and the comedian), talking in Chris Morris fashion about real news, which is being portrayed in a manner like The Day Today, without irony, and continues to dissect news broadcasts that look like they’re written by Chris Morris by highlighting the absurd nature of them by sometimes being Chris Morris and by sometimes being absurd.

Overall, the show—bar the odious poetry section—is still worth a look. Brooker’s entertaining, and he briefly waggles his fact muffin to debunk a few of the wilder news claims. But I couldn’t help feeling that the show is almost redundant. The news has become a parody of itself, and trying to create a comedy vehicle around it (albeit one concentrating on satire and deconstruction) results in the frustration of a show being slightly drier and more serious than what it’s reporting on, which is supposed to be dry and serious in the first place, but isn’t.

It’s enough to make your brain hurt.

Sometimes the best things in life start with a little mischief. That’s definitely the case with Bring Down IE6, a .net magazine microsite that I designed (using artwork from the wonderful people at ilovedust) and that launched on March 12.

Dan Oliver, the editor, was the culprit who lit the fuse. Knocking ideas around with me for features, he wondered if there was mileage in an article on the “growing trend to f—— IE”, meaning IE6, which even Facebook now hates. Being a web designer and also happening to know a lot of people who waste many hours dealing with IE6, I had a sneaking suspicion that, yes, this might just appeal to the mag’s readers.

The feature was duly commissioned, and I got to work, interviewing the likes of Jeff Zeldman and Bruce Lawson. I wrote the article, submitted it, and that was that. And then the mag hit the newsstands. Unusually, the article ended up online at the same time, rather than being delayed a few months, and there was one major addition: a badge.

Someone at .net had started a rallying cry, asking readers to download the ‘Bring Down IE6’ logo and link to the feature. But it didn’t seem loud enough. A spark went off in my head, and the microsite idea was born. It was then designed, built in suitably standards-compliant fashion, and IE6 was ignored bar an ‘upgrade’ notice that IE<7 users see. The finished site now sits at www.bringdownie6.com. Time will tell if it proves a success, but I’ve already seen the badge creeping out there and being attached to various designers’ blogs, which is heartening.

And despite the provocative and somewhat humorous tone of the site itself, the aim is deadly serious. It really is time for web designers to unite and finally get IE6 dealt with in some way. We need to move on, and together we will win.

The BBC reports that London mayor Boris Johnson is planning changes to the iconic road-crossing symbol. Once, both signs and usability were very similar in a huge range of countries, and in the UK you grow up learning that ‘a little green man’ means ‘walk’, and a red man means ‘walk only if you fancy getting run over’. (Of course, some countries have alternate crossing icons, including the USA, which unfortunately often favours using English—walk/don’t walk—in favour of language-independent icons.)

In recent years, I’ve noticed a surprising and disappointing trend towards diversity. When Fleet high street (Fleet being the town in Hampshire where I live) was revamped, so were the crossings. Rather than looking across the road at the ‘icons’ to see whether it is safe to cross, you now have to look towards the symbol on the same side of the road as you. I’m sure someone somewhere surmised that this was a more logical thing to do, but convention has long been otherwise, and I’ve watched people in my town—particularly young children—struggle with this upheaval.

In London, Johnson is planning on taking things further, replacing the standard icons with a countdown timer, primarily to hurry people across the road. However, with existing iconography so ingrained and clear, there’s a massive danger that pedestrians will have to revert to assumption when it comes to safely crossing. In general design, such as icons on websites, assumption is never a good thing and can hamper usability. But in road systems, it’s downright dangerous.

I remember buying one of the original iPod shuffles, thinking it might come in handy for walking about with, rather than ‘risking’ my expensive chunky iPod photo. In the end, the iPod photo sat unloved in a drawer (and, eventually, got wired into my amp), while the shuffle laughed heartily on its victory.

Far from being bothered by the perceived restrictions of the device (no screen, basic controls), I loved the shuffle’s durability, and due to an OCD-like iTunes set-up where everything’s rated, I could fill the tiny iPod with tracks of a certain length and quality, and then set off to town knowing that I had a selection of what I considered great music with me.

When the new shuffle came out—the one that’s a tiny clip—I bought one of those, too. The old shuffle was relegated somewhat (although it’s still dug out for long flights), because the new one’s sheer tininess made it a real winner. Again, no screen, but the competition’s tiny displays didn’t seduce me in the slightest.

Today, Apple went a stage further, with the latest version of the shuffle, and, yeah, there’s going to be a third one rattling around this house soon enough.

Amazingly, the device is even smaller that its predecessor, tinier than a door key. Because of this, the controls have shifted to the headphones (the one negative, since this means you’re stuffed if they break or you want to use non-Apple headphones), and VoiceOver has made its debut, making the lack of screen a non-issue. Now, the iPod shuffle, apparently conversant in 14 languages, can tell you what you’re listening to, and which playlist you’re playing.

Again, this highlights Apple’s desire to innovate, rather than just looking at the competition and doing something similar. It also shows that giving people what they want rather than what they think they want can pay dividends, in terms of features and industrial design. Most importantly, though, it appears that without Steve Jobs at the helm, things can continue, what with unknown devices still being in the pipeline. Take note, idiot reporters.

Having been using the internet for more than a decade, I can’t think of two more broken ratings systems than those used by eBay and Amazon.

eBay’s appears largely based around screwing the other party over. To make things ‘better’, eBay recently removed the ability for sellers to leave feedback. This resulted in buyers realising they could ‘blackmail’ sellers with strong feedback scores, threatening to leave ‘negatives’ unless partial refunds were given.

Amazon’s system is just as bad, but in a very different way. Since the site enables people who’ve not bought an item to leave feedback, the reviews are largely rendered pointless. A stinking stream of “I’ve not bought this, but…” dribbles around the edge of every page, made all the more putrid when the reviewed item isn’t even available for another six months.

With these things in mind, it should come as no surprise that Gordon Brown’s Labour, bastions of IT idiocy, are now suggesting services like GPs and police should be rated in a similar way (source BBC News). The article notes that Brown said it was wrong that consumer websites such as Amazon and eBay had “higher standards of transparency” than those for public services.

Excuse me, but isn’t this the dumbest idea possible in this area? Sure, get official bodies to figure out if services are up to scratch, and run independent inquiries when things go very wrong. But the last thing we need for councils, the police and childcade is a bunch of one-star reviews by crazy people, annoyed that a service they’ve never used doesn’t do something it’s not supposed to do.

Interesting, though, that Brown notes how the government has been “too slow to make use of the enormous democratising power of information,” and yet ignores true democracy by avoiding giving the people referendums on things that actually matter. (Iraq, anyone?)

He also rattles on about ushering in “a new world of accountability in which parents, patients and local communities shape the services they receive, ensuring all our public services respond not simply to the hand of government, but to the voice of local people.” Note, though, that Brown avoids placing the government and himself in this arena.