この曲がデビュー曲ってすごい!とずっと思ってたし、今聴いても色褪せないしかっこいい!
ホーンセクションが豪華だなと思ったら、BIG HORNS BEEが参加してたんだね
DANCIN’ WITH YOUR LIES~Sing Like Talking 35th Anniversary "OFF THE CHAIN”~ https://t.co/R1FRCzDkhm
We've lost an absolute giant today. RIP Dimitri Bertsekas. His probability and optimization books got me through my masters. Massive loss for the MIT community and the field.
That tiny red nub sitting between the G, H, and B keys on keyboards has been quietly dividing the tech world for over 30 years. Half the people who encounter it have no idea what it does. The other half refuse to use anything else.
It’s called the TrackPoint. And it was born out of a single frustrating observation.
In 1984, a researcher named Ted Selker conducted a study showing that it takes a typist 0.75 seconds to shift their hand from the keyboard to the mouse and a comparable amount of time to shift back. That 1.5 seconds of lost time, multiplied across an entire workday, felt like a solvable problem. So he built something that would eliminate it entirely; a pressure-sensitive nub planted right in the middle of the keyboard, so your hands never had to leave the keys at all. IBM introduced it commercially in 1992 on the ThinkPad 700 series.
The way it works is not what most people expect. It doesn’t move like a joystick. It responds to pressure. Beneath the rubber cap sit strain gauges that measure the force applied in different directions and translate it into cursor movement. The harder you press, the faster the cursor moves. There is no repositioning, no lifting your finger, no running out of space. Infinite cursor movement from a single fingertip that never moves more than a millimeter.
The red color almost didn’t happen. IBM’s product safety division had reserved red exclusively for emergency power-off switches on mainframe computers.
ThinkPad designer Richard Sapper got around this by calling the color IBM Magenta and when the first batch shipped, the engineers made it decidedly more crimson. A loophole dressed in plain sight.
Power users programmers, analysts, executives who live on their keyboards swear by it. The reason, according to Lenovo’s chief design officer, is that your hands never leave the home row. You type and navigate simultaneously, without the constant interruption of reaching for a trackpad. Once mastered, people say it feels less like using a tool and more like an extension of thought.
Most laptops abandoned it. Lenovo never did. And the people who know, know.