Italian court makes Internet lovers nervous

Internet addicts take note - Italy may have mussed your mojo.

A legal ruling last week from the land of Leonardo da Vinci has instilled doubt about the future of openness on the always open Internet, and that doubt maay trickle over into gamers' goings-on.

At issue was whether Web search giant Google impinged on the privacy of an autistic Italian boy in 2006 by posting a video of him being beaten by bullies at school. The film clip appeared on Google Video and was viewed thousands of times before it was pulled down and the boy's father pressed the case that posting the clip violated Italy's privacy protection laws.

An Italian court agreed Wednesday and sentenced three Google executives - chief legal officer David Drummond, global privacy counsel Peter Fleischer and former chief financial officer George Reyes, none of whom were involved in posting the video clip - in absentia for the violation, ruling that Google was responsible for upholding Italy's law and should have pulled down the video in a timely manner.

The executives will not serve time; their sentences were suspended. The ruling, however, hangs over the Internet like a sword of Damocles. In effect, it demands everyone who posts content online to take responsibility for that content regardless of the content's origin.

This threatens to be a particularly sticky wicket for content aggregators such as Google and Yahoo and YouTube, whose main task has been posting instead of policing. Social and gaming networks, too, would suffer if it means that not only sites like Facebook and services like PlayStation Home, but also the users of such sites and networks are held legally responsible for whatever they contribute.

Advocates of Internet freedom lament the ruling's potential chilling effect and parrot Google's statement that if left to stand "the Web as we know it would cease to exist." On the other hand, Italy is said to have a low rate of Internet commerce compared to the rest of Europe and its government has been debating various legislation to assert more control over Italians' Web usage.

Furthermore, the European Union, of which Italy is a part, asserts through its own regulations on Internet commerce that content providers should be free from the kind of crushing obligation imposed by the Italian court's ruling; thus, the ruling may conflict with established legal precedent.

In the end, this may be an example of the mouse that roared. The question is, will that roar have an ominous echo.

Workplace anger and Facebook

More frustrating to me than technology failures in the marketplace are people unclear on concepts related to technology and the marketplace.

To wit: A colleague's outburst last week on, of all places, Facebook, after his onerous experience with our employer's productivity software.

Exactly what prickled him wasn't made clear in his post, but his general disparagement rang bells with a few other colleagues, and they therefore felt the need to chime in.

I can guess what happened. You see, our workplace software is, to put it mildly, uncooperative about 2 percent of the time; files are lost or erased, templates must be reloaded time after time, network connections fracture and the servers have a hard time swallowing commands when too many come through the pipe at once. Not to mention that the computer system itself is aging. (What the heck; I mentioned it anyway.)

From this standpoint, anyone unfamiliar with our systems might nod in understanding, as I doubt our issues are either new or unique. 'Tis always thus for people and institutions who expect electrons to maintain a constant charge.

There is, therefore, a certain amount of hair-tugging, fabric-rending, desk-pounding, heart-racing and blue language expected with such matters when said matters arise at or near a project deadline.

What galls me though is not these animated displays in the office (no, that's not right; they do, in fact, gall me), but animated displays artlessly distributed through social networks. In particular: Facebook.

I attribute this distribution to a desire for emotional outreach, a search for understanding among kindred souls who may have stumbled down the same dark path. Basically, these folks are just venting and demand an audience to gage their performances.

But when I next crank up my workplace computer, that venting will not have released whatever silicon-based pressure initiated the trouble. The software will be, as before, balky at times. (Perhaps more so if addressing the users' initial complaints leads to alterations in the software interface that in turn force users to revise their behavior.)

That is, in part, because the venting goes out to people who may understand but cannot fix the problem. The wrong audience is listening.

But the other part is design of the system and the need. Our software was created with one goal, and we are able to achieve that goal adequately. Anything more demands an expenditure the company had neither the time nor inclination to accommodate. Here too, this is nothing new in the American workplace.

In other words, we've got what we've got because it does the job and fell within a specific price range, not because it was apt to coddle its users.

Of course, this doesn't stop people from treating software as a friend, instead of as a tool. As a result, we're hurt when it jilts us.

Whatever subsequent closure we seek, however, cannot be found on Facebook. Or Twitter. Or any of the social networks we use. They become little more than conduits for noise when we try.

So, folks, please just, you know, keep a lid on it. Bite your tongue. Bite someone else's tongue, if you prefer. But refrain from taking a one-step approach to what could be a 12-step problem. And be mindful of your employer's perceptions regarding publicized workplace issues. (Employers do read Facebook, you know.)

Because while you may feel better after venting on Facebook, your boss might feel just the opposite.

Praying for time

Adopt an old dog, one with frailties and potential for chronic illness, and expect to get your heart broken.

I'm feeling the fractures develop now, almost four years after my wife and I took in Lindy (left), a 10-year-old Pomeranian rescued from a puppy mill and offered up for adoption by a group that finds homes for senior dogs, ages 6 and up.

We took Lindy because she was cute, but also out of pity. Her black fur was made ragged by a thyroid condition, and her seven remaining teeth jut from her jaws at oblique angles. Two lower canines curl out over her upper lip, giving her a comical look of perpetual ferocity.

She was little more than a baby factory and treated in ways that are heartbreaking to describe. Adopting her we thought would afford her the comfort and love she probably never had, and sorely deserved.

Given her problems - including brittle bones caused by having too many puppies - we expected to have Lindy maybe two years. As of today, it's past three and a half.

But she may not make it to four. Last week, a chronic cough caused by a heart murmur and related swelling of the pericardium grew much worse, making it more difficult for her to breathe and sometimes even move. The coughs are loud, raspy and deep, and they ripple through her body. Once occasional, now the coughs come in a series lasting a few minutes to almost an hour.

My wife and I lose sleep from the coughing; you can hear them through the house, and they're almost as tough to listen to as they are for a 9-pound dog to have.

The several veterinarians who have examined Lindy are certain this latest convulsing is the inevitable and irreversible next symptom of her condition. (The swelling pericardium is pressing against her windpipe.) Drugs that were prescribed to minimize the swelling have lost their effectiveness. And so, in a short time, this little girl who's always happy, even despite the awful coughs, will lose the shine in her eyes.

Lindy's old and frail, and susceptible to numerous maladies. Yet my wife and I like to think there's a miracle out there looking for someone deserving ... someone small and furry. So we keep hoping Lindy's next cough will be her last, her next pill will be unnecessary, and three and a half years will stretch to four, five or six.

And even if that happens, we'll still think the end has come too soon.


UPDATE: Lindy passed away just after 2 p.m. on Wednesday, Feb. 10. My wife and I were with her when she died peacefully after a long struggle with heart failure. Lindy leaves a huge hole in our home and hearts, but we take comfort in the joy she gave us, and we tried to give in return, in the short time she was a part of our family.

Late to the party

It figures. Just when I muster the courage to start a blog, the practice is past its peak. Makes me feel like the guy who was the last person on the block to buy a TV back in 1970.

Honestly, until now, I haven't wanted to spill my guts all down the front of the Web. Everyone else has and now it's all sticky, like a movie theater floor after the midnight show.

But blogs aren't just places to vent; they're nice places to store ideas. And photos. Lord knows I've run out of places to stash them.

Up to now, the majority of my Web traffic has been steered through STLtoday.com and Facebook, which are good but limiting. On the other hand, brevity is the soul of wit, so I risk appearing witless with all this space to play in.

I hope not to drift in that direction. You'll be sure to tell me when I do, right?