Elevated reality.

I have an idea for a realtime utility/application/brand/service.

Instead of augmented reality, it offers something that I call elevated reality. It enables any place, relationship, or experience to become an opportunity to learn. To be truer to your real self.

Instead of offering mere information, it offers inspiration. But not any kind of inspiration. Not generic self-improvement stuff that you can find at Waterstones or on Amazon. It offers inspiration that will be uniquely motivating TO YOU.

In other words, as you let this service get to know you, it personalizes what it does for you. Take some people I know, for example. For Mark, it might mean helping him make purchasing decisions that are in synch with his personal values. For Chris, it might involve some nudging to take a particular photograph in a way he hadn't considered before. For Roberta it might mean tasting a strange new dish that's just been concocted around the corner. For Claudie it might mean exploring new (or ancient) forms of sacred movement. For Matthew it might involve time-shifting his own brilliance so he can experience it the way others do, for Kate it's steady encouragement, for Sam it's pointing to new sources of challenge, for Eivor it might involve connecting with someone who misunderstands an author she loves. And so on.

Imagine if the continual school that is life were enhanced by realtime connections to ideas, things, places, people -- just when we would most benefit from that connection. It's not a friend-finder or an interesting-experiences guide -- it's more like a coach, a teacher, an agent-companion that makes your journey more personally and emotionally productive. It makes your real life a school. In realtime.

This is what elevated reality would be.

Anyone interested?

5 Good Fights

One of the things I have come to appreciate about living in London is that here, more than anywhere else I've ever been or lived, the past and the future are in constant debate with one another. They wrestle, sometimes constrain each another, and the tension between the two can be exasperating. Because it's a fight between well-matched opponents. And the result is an environment and a citizenry that's dynamically open, stubbornly opinionated, brash and gently polite all at once.

So I've been thinking about the value of the "good fight." And I've come up with 5 well-matched opponents that particularly interest me.

Transformation and Tradition

Intuition and Evidence

Transience and Permanence

Humanity and Technology

Individuality and Community

Interesting stuff lies in the ambivalent spaces between these pairs of seeming opposites. Opportunity emerges from the creative abrasion that happens when you force them into the boxing ring together. I'm not talking harmonious yin and yang here. I'm talking about messy arguments, heated challenge, a fight to the finish that may or may not end in a tie.

I wonder what other good fights we might instigate. Any thoughts?

Slipping in Realtime

I just had lunch at one of my favorite places for comfort food in London. It wasn't as good as it always was. And funnily enough, I was at its sister restaurant for dinner last night which also wasn't quite as good as it was last time. Has the recession taken its toll on the kitchen, the servers, and the overall experience? Is corporate management cutting the wrong costs?

Or was it just a coincidence?

I thought about posting something in realtime. To Yelp, to Tweet my disappointment. But then I wondered: is there any margin for error anymore? In realtime, must business be absolutely perfect, all of the time? Would the right people read my post? If management were monitoring the stream, my opinion might create an opportunity for improvement. But other customers might turn away, and the downward spiral of quality deterioration could continue.

In realtime, what's the right thing to do?

Metail

So it's a horrible-sounding term. But it's coming.

Metail is the hybrid of media and retail -- personalized just for you. Retail, after all, is media. It's a channel through which content is delivered. Branded content, entertaining content, useful content.

And as the digital and physical realms mashup into one continuous live experience, a live experience that's increasingly personalized, retailers must morph into metailers.

What do metailers do? They think and behave like media channels AND point-of-sale providers simultaneously. They program ever-changing, sometimes serialized, time-relevant content and context into their physical space. They consistently integrate this programming into online channels and screens, from the desktop to the mobile. Time-relevant programming could include niche-shopping nights (girls night out at Victoria's Secret, gay night at AussieBum) rush hour benefits (instant-pickup pre-bagged groceries, office-to-dinner quick makeover) or sports event shopping (discount for 5 minutes after your team scores) and the like. It also includes personalized, life-moment programming. The High School Graduation, Learning To Drive, and Just Got Engaged life moments suggest any number of personalized promotions and services that could drive sales. Tie ups with movies, games and television properties could make these life-moment programs even more compelling.

Because shopping is as much about entertainment as it is about utility, co-branded in-store experiences provide opportunities for new revenue streams for the metailer. Events, branded content partnerships, and the sale of media space itself are integrated into the economics of the metail business model, as are the data analytics of shopper behavior.

As long as I get a cut of the action, I don't mind if data about my behavior patterns convert into revenue. Metailers must earn the permission to track our behavior in the store by providing extra benefits to us for doing so. Benefits like secret discounts, early-access to promotions and sales, limited edition products, etc. So that over time, metail provides a customized, realtime experience -- and highly engaging reasons to consider and buy -- for each and every one of us.

To the Serpentine, go!

I'll keep this brief. The Jeff Koons show at the Serpentine Gallery is disturbing, silly and brilliantly smart all at once. He was the reason I decided to become an artist years ago, and the Popeye Series has me wondering why I ever stopped. Just outside the gallery, this year's Pavilion is a masterclass in What Architecture Is (and Is Not.) It reminds you that you're in a physical body, yet have senses and perceptions that can extend beyond your physical self. It's playful and functional and it has the realtime characteristics of simultaneously existing as a virtual experience and a solid object. (In a way, the Koons show does the same thing.)

All in all, a visit is a really good way to spend some precious realtime. In the middle of one of the world's great urban parks, no less. Food for the brain, soul and Flickr photostream.

Anniversary

I'm listening to the BBC radio reports this morning, commemorating the anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre, and I'm thinking about the irrepressible human urge to self-express. I'm thinking about students and courage, and I'm thinking about how, in Beijing today, it's a day like any other. I've walked through Tiananmen in the early morning, seen the flag being raised. It was odd, superimposing my understanding, my mental "augmented reality data" across the screen of my vision. I wondered how many other people -- tourists, Chinese citizens -- were doing the same.

Can such a memory really be eliminated? Can realtime events be wiped off the global cranium after the fact anymore? Here in my London living room, I'm listening to the recorded protest singing of those students, time-shifted through the years and the radio. It's like it's happening right now.

But what good is it for me to hear and remember? Perhaps we are the story-holders, the memory-protectors, of other countries and systems that are prevented from owning their own narrative. Is it our right to do so, or our duty?

Dead or alive?

Blogging is dead, it's become chic to say. I don't know what that means. Certainly, blogging as we understand it today has a sell-by date. What doesn't? In a sense, everything tech is dead on arrival.

I don't blog as often as I feel I should. Partly because I feel like I'm lobbing ideas into the void -- I haven't done the work required to build an audience for these ramblings. Meanwhile, I also wonder if it's irresponsible to put more bytes into the world's datastream. After all, bytes are supported by plastic boxes and copper wires and electricity. Is silence more green?

Then again, the more ideas we share, the more we learn from one another, and that's got to be a good thing.

And sharing ideas, in whatever form, is very much alive. Unstoppably alive.