Okay, sure, they're a massive technological leap forward and brimming with raw power, but we're curious-- what's everyone's take on the Power Mac G5's new look? We haven't really focused too hard on the aesthetics as of yet, because frankly, with all the insanely fast gear packed inside, we're reasonably certain that pro Mac users would line up three deep to preorder even if they were fluorescent orange and shaped like David Niven perched on a toilet. (The Power Macs, that is. Whether or not the pro users are orange and resemble dapper British film stars on the commode isn't germane to the topic at hand.)

Personally, we're not entirely sure how we feel about the vibe given off by the new enclosure; in an intro to its mini-interview with Apple's design guru Jonathan Ive, WIRED says it has a "brutal austerity," and that's probably the best description we've yet encountered. We haven't seen one in person yet, mind you, but if the photos do it justice, there's a severity to it even harsher than that of the titanium and aluminum PowerBooks (which, while sleek and minimalist, still have a certain visual warmth to them). To be sure, this was intentional, because the G5 screams for an element of danger to its look-- a sort of "mess with me, boyo, and I'll hand you your still-beating heart so you can look at it while I set about breaking your kneecaps" connotation.

But it turns out we're not nearly the only ones to look at the photos and think "cheese grater," which is less of a "heart ripped out and kneecaps breaking" danger than a "skinned knuckle, small bits of flesh in the mozzarella" sort of peril. Plus, is it dangerous in an attractive way? WIRED mentions how "the crowd of several thousand Mac programmers gathered to witness its launch fell silent, as though in the presence of something mysterious and powerful." But that silence could just as easily have been that polite sort of pause that slips out when you try to think of something nice to say and eventually only come up with "it's... interesting."

From Ive's perspective, though, the G5's design is about simplicity to the core, "real simplicity" and not "an applied style of being minimal and simple." He spends a lot more time talking about the innards of the machine-- the cordless cooling fans that plug directly into power sockets to make RAM installation simpler, the internal plastic airflow cover that Apple made clear "so people could run their machines with the door off." And yes, he does go on about the "finish of the materials," but seemingly more so now than ever, he's all about function first, cosmetics second. "From a designer's point of view, it's not an appearance game we're playing. It is very utilitarian. It's the use of material in a very minimalist way."

Which brings us back to the point: is the Power Mac G5 attractive? Are people going to buy them in part because of their looks, or in spite of them? To Ive, at least, the point is moot; the G5 is "an extremely powerful tool" and its exterior design was intended solely to make it "very, very obvious that it is what it is." No nonsense, no frills, just power-- it's the computer equivalent of a military haircut, or maybe a shark. Its very simplicity makes it crystal clear that the Power Mac G5's sole raison d'être is to eat other, lesser computers for breakfast. Who would have guessed that Apple would so consciously try to remove looks from the equation?

Shredded cheddar, anyone?

Is there a word for the feeling you get when your laptop's low battery warning pops up, you've got another two hours' worth of work to get done, and there isn't a power outlet in sight? "Screwed" comes to mind, but that doesn't quite capture the sentiment underlying that horrible sinking feeling-- the bitter conviction that technology has failed you. Because while it's a terrific thing to be able to work untethered via the modern miracle of the battery, it's really just an illusion of freedom, since within a few hours you'll be dead in the water unless you hook back up to the grid. It's kind of like being under house arrest, with one of those leg cuff thingies that pops you with a couple hundred volts if you wander past the threshold of your living quarters.

Sure, you can carry an extra battery or two, but they're heavy and expensive, and you always have to make sure that they're charged before you leave the house-- and then you're still living on borrowed time, you're just extending it a little. Nope, with the possible exception of AtAT's own invention, the Really Long Extension Cord™ (we'll be filing for a patent just as soon as we finish coiling up the prototype-- we started in 1997), there just isn't a terrific solution to the laptop power problem. Yet.

According to the Naked Mole Rat, Apple is looking to sink some serious cash into a company developing laptop-friendly fuel cell technology. Fuel cells take in hydrogen (from a replaceable supply, such as a tank or cartridge) and oxygen (from the air) and combine the two in an exothermic reaction that produces energy (to power, in this case, the laptop) and water. The upshot is that you could run your PowerBook for days without plugging it in, provided you keep feeding it hydrogen-- and hydrogen carts are likely to be a whole lot lighter and cheaper than additional batteries. As for where the water goes, well, in a well-designed laptop like those made by Apple, we figure it'll probably be collected in a reservoir in the hydrogen cartridge and discarded as you swap the used one for a fresh one; in a laptop made by some company like Gateway, the water will probably just leak out the bottom and make you look like you have a serious bladder control problem.

So if the Gay Blade is to be believed (and he almost always is), Apple's looking to invest in a fuel cell company to guarantee availability of the technology for future PowerBooks, kind of like how that investment in Samsung was supposed to keep Apple neck-deep in LCD panels at any given time. So hot for the technology are our buddies in Cupertino that they're reportedly willing to design a PowerBook around a fuel cell, instead of requiring that the fuel cell fit into an existing PowerBook. There's just one problem: Apple isn't the only company looking to hook up with a fuel cell company. Word has it that Intel is shopping around for the same deal-- and that it refuses to do business with any fuel cell company that also agrees to work with Apple. (Awwwww, is widdle-biddy Intel a widdle bit scared of the Big Bad G5?)

Regardless of how the money and the politics all shake out, it does sound like the future of laptop power will be fuel cells in one form or another. Now, much as the idea of wearing a utility belt stocked with hydrogen cartridges appeals to some of us down here at the AtAT compound (much to his guidance counselors' chagrin, Jack's sole career goal until his sophomore year of high school was to be Spider-Man), we imagine that for a lot of people, the good ol' battery would actually be preferable; if you only need to work unplugged for short periods at a time, the battery in a current PowerBook is far more convenient than having to buy and insert hydrogen carts all the time. Why do we get the feeling that Apple will either leave the power source technology up to the buyer, or better yet, stick a fuel cell system and a traditional battery into future PowerBooks? Fun for the whole family!

Now that's a change of pace; Microsoft suing someone else. Most of you probably already know that the Redmond Giant filed suit against a couple dozen alleged spammers last week, marking what was, as far as we can make out, the first positive thing the company had done since dinosaurs roamed the earth. Or so we thought. Now it turns out that at least one of the alleged spammers is apparently just some average guy now facing a big, scary lawsuit by one of the world's most powerful corporations. Yeeks.

Yup, according to a BBC NEWS article, a 43-year-old telecommunications engineer named Simon Grainger was slapped with the suit last week because he's the registered owner of a domain name that Microsoft claims was involved in some heavy-duty spammage. There's just one little problem: according to Spamhaus, yes, the domain name in question was used for spam, except that the spam all happened during a previous registration, long before the domain name was subsequently registered by Mr. Grainger. Steve Linford of Spamhaus is therefore "98% convinced that Microsoft has got the wrong man"; apparently Microsoft's spam investigation team, which the company bragged about having a "background in law enforcement," neglected to check a piddly little thing called a "date."

Chalk it up to yet another example of "bright idea, shoddy implementation" on Microsoft's part; once again, the company's Attention-To-Detail Deficit Disorder rears its ugly head. We're all for suing spammers, but geez, at least make the effort to sue the right people. Poor Simon says, "we've been told it could cost us a five-figure sum to fight this." Again, yeeks.

Interestingly enough, Bill Gates himself recently sent out a tirade about the evils of spam, vociferously proclaiming (without a hint of irony) spam to be "a drain on productivity, an increasingly costly waste of time and resources for Internet service providers and for businesses large and small [that] clogs corporate networks, and is sometimes a vehicle for viruses that can cause serious damage." Well, gee, Bill, does that mean Microsoft is going to reimburse the planet for the billions of dollars lost due to your company releasing such sievelike products as Outlook and Windows, which are responsible for millions of email messages auto-sent by worms like Love Bug, Anna Kournikova, Nimda, Sircam, ad infinitum? Or for posting Hotmail users' email addresses on a public web site for spammers to pick up in the first place? Cool. Where do we pick up the check?