the abbreviated reign of “neon” leon spinks
the abbreviated reign of “neon” leon spinks
the abbreviated reign of “neon” leon spinks
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OOPS 188<br />
Nobel Prize–winning behavior researcher Konrad Lorenz, who saw cute-<br />
ness as a potent cue for behavior, and noted that people were nicer to ani-<br />
mals whose physical features reminded <strong>the</strong>m <strong>of</strong> human children.)<br />
Micros<strong>of</strong>t’s initial attempt at a social interface, “Bob,” was devel-<br />
oped under <strong>the</strong> supervision <strong>of</strong> Melinda Gates, a Micros<strong>of</strong>t executive who<br />
also happened to be <strong>the</strong> wife <strong>of</strong> company chairman and c<strong>of</strong>ound er Bill<br />
Gates. It was released in early 1995. When installed on early versions <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Windows point-and-click user interface, it converted <strong>the</strong> Windows<br />
desktop into a house with ten rooms—including a family room, a study,<br />
and an attic—that a computer user could decorate in a variety <strong>of</strong> styles,<br />
ranging from medieval to postmodern. The furnishings were actually<br />
icons that opened various applications, such as a letter-writing program, a<br />
checkbook, a calendar, and an e-mail program. The interface featured a<br />
number <strong>of</strong> animated inhabitants whose personalities ranged, in <strong>the</strong> words<br />
<strong>of</strong> s<strong>of</strong>tware historian Dan Rose, from “happily enthusiastic” to “downright<br />
obnoxious.” Bob’s cast included cartoon animals such as Hopper <strong>the</strong><br />
stuffed blue bunny, Digger <strong>the</strong> worm, Bly<strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong> fi refly, Rover <strong>the</strong> dog,<br />
and Chaos <strong>the</strong> cat. The program also <strong>of</strong>fered Orby, an anthropomorphic<br />
world globe, and a William Shakespeare caricature who spoke in fl owery<br />
Elizabethan language. The most bizarre character was Scuzz, a surly rodent<br />
who took occasional bites <strong>of</strong> a package <strong>of</strong> rat poison, tormented Chaos<br />
<strong>the</strong> cat, and dismissed <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r guides as “losers.” (Oddly, <strong>the</strong>re was no<br />
character named Bob.)<br />
Bob had at least a few fans. Wall Street Journal technology critic<br />
Walter Mossberg lauded it as “a bold departure that attempts to give nontechnical<br />
people more control over <strong>the</strong>ir computers. . . . It’s better than<br />
cursing at <strong>the</strong> screen and feeling stupid.” Reviewer Jack Warner <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Austin American- Statesman, in contrast, noted acidly that “I tend to resent<br />
small dogs or birds crouching in <strong>the</strong> lower right corner <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> monitor<br />
throwing incessant balloons full <strong>of</strong> advice onto <strong>the</strong> screen.”<br />
Bob had one telling technical flaw. Since <strong>the</strong> program still required<br />
Micros<strong>of</strong>t Windows to remain running as well, it taxed <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>n-puny