Do you remember the video I once shared about making a song in Strudel?

I recently stumbled upon this 20-minute YouTube video by iSongs of someone recreating Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” in GarageBand on their iPhone:

Like the previous video, I believe this is so tight as it was previously rehearsed/​prepared, which makes for an interesting watch if you even just check out a fragment of the video.

I can’t speak for the verisimilitude/​quality of the composition, but it was fascinating to witness because The. UI. Just. Kept. Coming. I had no idea Garage Band is so fully-featured on the iPhone, and that there is so much going on!

Maybe my fascination is this: it’s amazing that “power users” come in various shapes and forms. Would I recommend using the iPhone to do this? Not really. Is it cool that this is possible, for people who might not have access to other platforms? Yeah.

(The channel has a lot more different songs if this one is not to your liking.)

I generally avoid think pieces about AI because a) a lot of them are boring, and b) they rarely match the pragmatic posture of this blog.

But this essay on a new No One’s Happy blog was really interesting to read, and feels different in a few ways.

First, it examines what happens as AI slop spreads in the context that is less discussed – in a workplace:

This is a new form of slop, and it is more expensive than the public kind, because the people producing it are being paid a salary to do so. […]

The cost of producing a document has fallen to nearly zero; the cost of reading one has not, and is in fact rising, because the reader must now sift the synthetic context for whatever the document was originally about.

A lot in the essay feels pertinent to Unsung as real craft is not feelings or fluffiness. Real craft is deep expertise:

Generative AI can produce work that looks expert without being expert, and the failure arrives in two shapes. The first is when novices in a field are able to produce work that resembles what their seniors produce, faster or more advanced than their judgment. The second is when people generate artifacts in disciplines they were never trained in. The two failures look similar from a distance and are not the same. Research has mostly measured the first. The second is what it is missing, and in my experience it is the riskier of the two.

The term for this new challenge is, apparently, “output-competence decoupling.”

Other parts of the essay come back to a topic – toxic velocity – we covered before:

The current generation of agentic systems is built around the premise that the human is the bottleneck — that the loop runs faster and cleaner without the awkward delay of someone reading what is about to happen and deciding whether it should. This is, in a great many cases, exactly backwards. The human in the loop is not a vestige of an earlier era; the human is the only part of the loop with skin in the game. Removing the H from HITL [Human In The Loop – eds. note] is not an efficiency. It is the abandonment of the only mechanism the system has for catching itself.

And one last thing that differentiates this essay from many others is the last “what to do about it” section.

The Ringer journalist Brian Phillips asked on Bluesky:

I’m working on a column about the tech annoyances that drive us crazy, and I want it to be as universal as possible, so tell me yours!

E.g. scanning a QR code to read a menu, never receiving the one-time passcode they supposedly texted you, “verify you’re human” by IDing tiny motorcycles, etc.

There are already many responses. I am drafting behind Phillips before he even writes his essay, because I like occasionally checking in with people this way. Not just for commiserating; perhaps scanning the answers will also give you some inspiration, or validation, or quotes for something you can push to make better, wherever you are.

Some patterns I noticed:

• A lot of logging in woes: password requirements, bouncing people from apps to web to log in, login flows forgetting context, “I trusted this device” settings you cannot trust.
• “Local news websites that crash under the weight of all their pop-up ads and auto-play videos.” This post had a great take:

The way super sketchy bootleg websites used to look (written in questionable English, 2/3 of the window overtaken by ads, constant popups and redirects, incorrect information more often than not) is just how all websites are now.

• Hatred of QR codes, or perhaps what they represent: needing to install an app, removing people out of the equation, introducing phones where they weren’t needed before.
• Surprisingly little AI. Is that because of the audience or the way the question was phrased?

Also, this little beauty:

My toaster says to unplug when not in use. It also has a digital clock that resets when I unplug it.

Actors are overwhelmingly diurnal, overtime is expensive, and film emulsion struggles with limited light, so since the dawn of time Hollywood has been using a technique called “day for night” – shooting during daylight, and then darkening and blue-tinting in post to pretend it was night time all along:

It’s a method filled with nuance, as this 11-minute video describes really well. This TV Tropes page lists a lot of examples from movies you might recognize, and another video by Rob Ellis has a lot of practical advice.

Now that you know it, you might spot it in movies that use it poorly: the ones that darken everything too much, the ones where too bright of a sky gives it away, or the ones where the shadows appear lunatic in the wrong sense of the word.

In UX design, you can day-for-night your dark mode as well – long before proper dark mode was a gleam in someone’s bloodshot eye, operating systems allowed you to invert their screens – but the limitations of that approach are apparent very quickly:

Sure, black becomes white, white becomes black, and grays swap places. But in real life, shadows do not get brighter at night, and photos do not behave that way, either.

The “proper” answer is not to do anything automatically and to go all out with a perfectly hand-crafted dark mode that’s an equal partner to light mode: a distinct set of semantic colors, a new strategy for shadows and layering, and a second set of visual assets like icons and images.

Here’s a comparison of naïve inverting and a proper dark mode:

A lot of apps do that for colors and shadows, some even providing multiple dark mode flavors…

…but visual assets is where things get tricky. Yeah, vector graphics can use the same swappable color variables as CSS text and elements, although in practice it is quite a bit of work and from my experience SVG doesn’t make it very easy, either (here’s an example from my essay):

But when it comes to bitmaps, they are usually left alone. Overtime is still overtime, and producing each bitmap twice is a lot of effort.

Since swappable variables don’t exist in this context, the only automatic approach method left is inverting, but a) inverting an already- dark image can make things lighter,and b) inverting things like photos makes them look creepy and mixes up all the colors:

What explains the last part? This has to do with the fact that inversion happens in the RGB color space. R becomes 1–R, and the same for G and B.

Everyone who’s into gradients knows of a similar challenge that results in the gray dead zone effect. This is fixable if you convince a gradient to traverse through a different space instead, or coax it through the RGB space on a more… bespoke path (this is e.g. what Figma gradient plugins do).

Could we invert in HSL or OKLAB color space, then? Yes, we could. They both look similar – this is HSL:

You can see how the photos get inverted now, but the colors remain the same! Still a curiosity, perhaps, but the bottom of the above screen shows this technique feels really interesting for diagrams, screenshots, and things of similar nature. Here’s another bitmap that looks pretty great inverted this way:

Unfortunately, while there are techniques and plugins to do gradients in non-RGB color spaces, I am not seeing a lot of options for inversion customization anywhere. Neither the graphics apps I use, nor CSS offer anything here.

But there’s a trick: do a regular invert and then rotate the hue halfway through. Through the magic of math, this is the same as inverting just L in the HSL space, which means the colors are preserved. This is actually achievable in graphic programs…

…and, more importantly, available in CSS as a filter: instead of invert(1), use hue-rotate(180deg) invert(1).

So, if you have dark-on-light diagrams, bitmapped text, illustrations, or other similar things – or even vector graphics you cannot throw dark mode variables at – this day-for-night trick that can get you places very cheaply. (And for other bright bitmaps, just reduce the brightness by 25%.)

It’s the same as with Hollywood trickery: remember to add a bit more nuance in the right place, and you get something that feels bespoke for the price of only light – please excuse the pun – manufacture.

This 22-minute video by Karl Jobst describes a pretty wild discovery of a glitch called Crystal Storage Glitch, allowing to skip a certain level for much faster completion times in Mega Man X2:

I won’t spoil the glitch because it’s a fascinating combination of a corner case, a race condition, and even a dose of dumb luck. Its finding unveils almost like a scientific discovery over many years – first a theoretical possibility, then a first sighting done in a modified emulator, then confirmation made by a machine via a tool-assisted speedrun, and eventually actual performance by someone by hand. And a lot of this achieved by relative newcomers to the community, too.

There is certain poetry here in having to go slow to go fast – you’ll see what I mean.

In Figma, when choosing a font, you can filter down a list of fonts from “all” to specific categories or e.g. only fonts present in the current file.

But when you type into the search field, the search cuts across all fonts again, ignoring the applied filter. The search effectively lives outside the filter.

In Keyboard Maestro, when adding an action, you can click in the nav to filter down to a specific category. And when you search, the current filter remains active, so you search inside the filter.

Which one is better?

I don’t have a universal rule here, because it will depend both on the UI treatment, and the specific filters and searches people do.

But I think here, my recommendation for Keyboard Maestro here would be to do the same thing as Figma does. I designed that flow in Figma, so I might be biased, but my reasons are:

• There aren’t really a lot of options in each category, so you don’t benefit a lot from double filtering.
• But the most important thing: For both Figma and Keyboard Maestro, the text field might smell like a text filter and as such expected to be multiplexed with the category filter, but I think this field is actually something else: It’s quick keyboard access, like ⌘F or Spotlight or Raycast. And if you think about it this way, it’s important for it to be deterministic – I can always type “Output Sans,” no matter what state am I in, and get to the font.

On that last note, I find it’s good to look around what you’ve designed once in a while and consider not what the UI set out to be, but what it became – there might be more examples of that around you.

Andrew Gleeson designed Analog Mono, “fixing the crimes of VCR OSD Mono.” There used to be this classic pixel font that you’d see everywhere in the 1990s on hi-fi equipment: VCRs, TVs, camcorders, etc. One of its challenges was a low baseline which resulted in all the letters with descenders pulled up, for example:

Analog Mono fixes that problem:

Elsewhere, Kumiko Yoshida made Coral Pixels (also on Google Fonts), a color font that comes with the 1990s and 2000s colorful fringing baked in. The fringing was once an artifact of subpixel rendering, but now it is meant to evoke nostalgia or just as an interesting visual element in and of itself. (Perhaps adjacent to chromatic aberration?)

Lastly, here’s Two Slice by Joseph Fatula – a font that’s only 2 pixels tall, “and somewhat readable.”

Of course, these are all vector fonts – e.g. ready to be installed on a modern operating system – pretending to be pixel fonts. That’s maybe a separate post altogether, but it leads us to the last font, Geist Pixel from Vercel:

The copy introducing the font is a little pretentious/​spicy, but it touches upon something important:

Geist Pixel isn’t a novelty font. It’s a system extension. [… It] was designed with real usage in mind, not as a visual gimmick, but as a functional tool within a broader typographic system. […] This matters because pixel fonts often break in production. They don’t scale properly across viewports, their metrics conflict with existing typography, or they’re purely decorative. Geist Pixel was built to solve these problems, maintaining the visual texture teams want while preserving the typographic rigor products require.

There are definitely fonts whose Achilles’ heel is not the letterforms, but the invisible hard work put into everything that surrounds them: the kerning, the metadata, the extra glyphs, the vertical metrics. It seems that the team being Geist Pixel is proud of especially that last part.

A nice, but unpolished onboarding callout directing people towards a more useful shortcut, in Google Docs. I’m holding arrow keys without ⇧ here first, then with ⇧:

To improve it, I would add some sort of small celebratory “completed!” state, and auto-hide it afterwards; right now, it seems that it hides on a delay, likely regardless of what happens.

(Testing onboarding is hard because once it’s invoked it disappears forever. If you are worried about onboarding experiences in a place you work, please insist on easy toggles to bring it back for testing. And no, one-size-fits-all “reset onboarding” is too crude; ideally you can reset each specific one easily through a simple UI.)

Thank you to Ezra Spier for the tip.

Here’s a 2002 story from a younger internet, by programmer Trey Harris (link to the original and if you don’t like the classic Usenet formatting – my browser’s reader mode can’t even prettify it! – here’s a nicer-looking format):

“We’re having a problem sending email out of the department.”

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“We can’t send mail more than 500 miles,” the chairman explained.

I choked on my latte. “Come again?”

“We can’t send mail farther than 500 miles from here,” he repeated. “A little bit more, actually. Call it 520 miles. But no farther.”

It would be easy to assume this is a classic case of pebkac, “problem exists between keyboard and chair,” the derisive term used (supposedly!) by support people, describing naïve public who had a tenuous grasp of technological reality. But the story goes to an unexpected place.

This might be the most widely-shared computer bug story of all time I’ve seen – I just saw a comment from 2008 calling it “oldie but a goodie,“ and it even has an FAQ page that’s actually a really great read. There’s quite a bit of chatter inside about something important to me: the balance between the needs of good storytelling and going deep into technical details:

In the story, I make it sound like it took all of ten minutes from being made aware of the 500-mile email limit and determining a 3 ms light-speed issue. In fact, this took several hours, and quite a bit of detective work. The point is, eventually I came up with that figure, ran units, and gagged on my latte.

You can sense author’s frustration with every nerd trying to “gotcha” him instead of just enjoying the story. Even a younger internet wasn’t without faults.

A delightful 24-minute video from ToffeeBun about sampling in videogame music and how it changed over the years:

The video helped me understand the difference between tunes purely synthesized from soundchips, those sequenced with samples (e.g. MIDI or sound trackers), and those that are completely “streamed” (e.g. MP3). It’s stuff in between that’s the most interesting – it always is – with really surprising sources of samples (and, surprising samples!) needed to “perform” sequenced music.

The video itself is frenetically edited, and the opposite of “dry” (which I mean as a compliment).

I love looking at origins of obvious things, because of two things:

• They help me get unstuck. If you go far enough, you will find out that even the most ossified conventions that are older than you haven’t always been this way.
• They put me in the mood of “what of the things that feel normal today that deserve to feel dated, obsolete, or awkward?”

I’ve been emulating the Apple Lisa recently, and I was struck by how many of its UI strings were slightly or wholly different than what we’re used to.

It makes sense. Lisa came out in 1983 as Mac’s predecessor and really the first GUI that is directly linked to what we’re using today. Even though it borrowed things from work done at Xerox, tons of conventions were not established yet.

So, I thought it would be fun to actually take a closer look.

For context, Lisa was as slow as it was expensive, and generally considered a failure. It was basically abandoned by 1985. Not much third-party software has ever been written, but Lisa shipped with 7 impressive office apps with fantastic names: LisaWrite, LisaCalc, LisaDraw, LisaGraph, LisaList, LisaProject, and LisaTerminal.

The screenshots below come from an emulator and from manuals (this links to the 1984 version, but each manual also includes a link to the original 1983 edition). The emulator is pretty harrowing; please upvote the idea of Lisa in Infinite Mac if you would want to see it!

As Lisa powers up, we see the appearance of the “wait” dialog box. We’ll encounter more symbols like this triangle, inspired by traditional flowcharts.

Let’s start with menus, as these really were the treasure map to the whole system.

The Desk menu is basically the equivalent of the dock today.

The File menu has Print appended to it, indicating how important printing was still then; a truly “paperless office” won’t really be possible for two more decades (and seemingly still hasn’t fully arrived).

There is no Window menu yet, so the menu also contains some of that burgeoning functionality. Set Aside is what we would call Minimize today. Save & Continue is basically a contemporary Save, and Save & Put Away a hypothetical Save & Close. Revert to Previous Version is the same as today’s Revert. By the way, in the Revert dialog I appreciated the nice gesture of telling the user how much time passed since the last save, and a warning about undo (we’ll get back to this):

Print Current Selection would today be just Print Selection. Print As Is is basically Print… but skipping the setup dialog with number of copies, etc. It was added later in Lisa’s life, and today, we’d probably call it Print Again?

If you’re noticing a pattern already, it is more wordiness compared to what we see these days. It makes sense. Our growing familiarity with these concepts is what will allow these strings to become tighter over time.

This is that Print… dialog, by the way, with beautiful “while you wait” and “while you work” verbiage (although usually I do not condone strings getting so close to each other). The manual explains: “You can have the Lisa use most of its attention to print your document while you wait. A document will print more quickly if you choose While You Wait, but you won’t be able to use the Lisa for any other tasks.”

The other strings feel less typical. Format For Printer… is Page Setup, but with a lot of quirks. Printers were not usually yet WYSIWYG, able to mirror stuff exactly on the screen. They often came with their own fonts, so some matching was necessary:

The manual had an entire section called “When Settings Don’t Match a Printer,” and there were I imagine god knows how many error cases that had to be covered, including:

And Monitor The Printer… is today’s Print Center: a way to see the real-time printing status. Note a lot of writing here elaborates further on the “while you wait/​while you work” dichotomy:

Monitor The Printer was important, by the way, since the manual warned you your printer might occasionally become haunted:

But, let’s go back to the File/​Print menu. I actually found a version of this menu that comes from a 1982 pre-release Lisa, never launched to the public. Let me show them side by side:

It’s fun to see designers figuring it all out. You will notice the lack of dividers and ellipses actually touching the work-in-progress strings. 1983’s Set Aside is 1982’s very modern Close. Save & Put Away is Put Back. And, at the bottom, it seems the team didn’t yet figure out that the menu options need to consistently use verbs for commands, and adjectives or nouns for toggles – so we see Intended for Printer… (rather than Format For Printer…) and Printing in Progress… (rather than Monitor The Printer…).

Lastly, in a released version of LisaList, this menu would come bearing a harrowing Fix Damaged Document command. Not only it doesn’t even have an ellipsis, but the manual also says “there is always the chance that the recovery process will make things worse instead of better.” Vaya con dios, I suppose.

Let’s move on to the Edit menu.

Today’s Select All is a verbose Select All Of Document, and since this is the first public appearance of undo, that feature is also more descriptive, appearing as Undo Last Change. But otherwise the menu feels surprisingly modern, shortcuts and all.

Unsurprisingly, the first undo wasn’t as developed. We saw earlier in this post “Once you click OK, you will not be able to change your mind, even with Undo,” which today would probably say “This is not undoable.” You could also see a frightening error message arriving without any further clarification, like above.

Sometimes, the app would warn you undo doesn’t have your back. We’ve seen this before, and here’s another example.

Since undo only had one step, LisaCalc and LisaList also had Restore Previous Entry for when you changed your mind after editing a cell in the spreadsheet. You had to employ this strategically, as you did the already-mentioned Revert to Previous Version.

“You can even undo Undo!” bragged the manual, and I imagine there must have been interfaces where undo came without a matching redo. But the eventual solution, of course, was bidirectional undo/​redo with many steps. This basically only needed more memory, still very expensive in 1983.

Above we also see Clear Entries that would just be called Clear today.

Elsewhere in Edit menu, Clear Lines Off Top would appear in LisaTerminal only, and was a charming (and I would argue better) way of saying Clear Scrollback.

The next menu, Type Style, would be called Font today. “Type” is typewriter nomenclature – Lisa was meant to be a typewriter replacement. The point/​pitch convention for font sizes and letter spacing also comes from typewriters, and in an older version of that menu even font names arrive from that universe (PS = Proportionally Spaced!):

Otherwise, notable is the deterministic Plain Text reset with a P shortcut that would in time lose to printing. I miss this sometimes, this “reset” idea, as I think it would nicely compliment Paste And Match Style.

(By the way, Lisa was the last computer to use Apple logo as a modifier key.)

While Type Style is for selection, Format ¶ is all about paragraphs – HTML people know this distinction as “inline vs. block.” (The pilcrow symbol means “paragraph,” although I did not expect it to be common use even then.) The flyout menus with their convoluted mechanics weren’t invented yet, but in some sense there was no need for them as the options were very limited.

It is interesting to see Margin/Tab Ruler as two options with deterministic shortcuts ([ and ]). But the most unbelievable shortcut must be Same As On Clipboard. It reformats the current selection to match what you have in the clipboard – an early salvo in an endless battle that later brought us Paste Special, Paste And Match Style, Paste And Retain Style, Copy/​Paste Properties, Paint Format and so on, and so on. And it was given S, rather than spending it on Save (& Continue).

Otherwise Left Flush and Right Flush would be called aligning today, and the ¶ pilcrow symbol would be replaced by a simple Paragraph Spacing.

In LisaCalc, Format is missing the ¶ because, well, there are no paragraphs in spreadsheets! I love Words Left/Nos. Right, and empathize with trying to align the digits. But it wasn’t even close, was it.

Page Layout shows that we’ve had UI boolean problems from day one. Show Page Ruler and Hide Page Ruler do it deterministically, with one always disabled, and without checkmarks. Preview Pages and Don’t Preview Pages do the checkmark, but introduce a dreaded double negative. (These last options, by the way, is the “pages/​pageless format” showing page margins and dividers, that bother us so much about Google Docs.) Today, these would all be in the View menu that doesn’t exist yet.

And speaking of boolean challenges, here are some top-level menus from LisaList with even more conventions:

But, back to the Page Layout Menu. Insert Page Mark would be Insert Page Break today. I really love Allow To Cross Pages as the opposite of Keep On Same Page, and the incredible O and Q shortcuts.

In LisaCalc, this particular menu comes with a beautifully named For Your Information (sentence capped, for some reason)…

…throwing up a sheet-like window showing basic stats. Today, that window would have a more boring name and probably land in the File menu:

The Search menu is fascinating – why wasn’t it called Find like its items are? I am particularly enjoying W keyed off of Find What (today: Find), while F is taken by Find Next Occurrence (today: Find Again). There is some mnemonic sense to it all, but I like today’s proximity of ⌘F/G better.

What we know as Replace is Change here, and I am particularly loving Cases Must Agree and Cases Need Not Agree (today usually called “case sensitivity.”)

Hide Dialog Box is a string with surprising to me amount of UI jargon. The H shortcut was added later in Lisa’s life, presumably at users’ behest. It’s strange today to see a shortcut like this to hide one specific floating dialog box.

Similarly, Insert Wild Card with a confusing ellipsis allows you to insert a symbol in your find dialog that stands for “match anything here” – top-level menu options reaching inside specific dialog boxes were not uncommon in early years of GUIs, but I think fell out of favor over time as the idea can be conceptually confusing.

The menu below is from LisaWrite, and I like how comparing it with other apps makes us see the team trying to settle on a convention. In LisaList there are no ellipsis, but question marks!

And in LisaCalc, there are… both:

You can notice that it wasn’t clear where one would put Find-related commands and their today’s presence in Edit menu doesn’t really make a lot of sense, either. We just got used to it. (Also note the “occurence” typo.)

Spelling menu has a bunch of fun options and conventions, and an extremely generous use of keyboard shortcuts:

• Find Next Misspelling (you don’t often see that word!)
• Suggest Corrections + Paste Guess (this is just replacing the word with the suggestion – interesting use of the clipboard metaphor)
• Put In Dictionary (today: Learn Spelling)

LisaDraw sports the Arrangement menu, which will look very familiar to anyone using Illustrator, Sketch, Figma, and so on. This is where Bring To Front and Send To Back started! With a tiny bit of editing (Arrangement is now Arrange, and some of the Objects nouns would be omitted), this would feel pretty modern.

I love these visual menus, and I think we lost that kind of stuff along the way:

Okay, let’s move on from menus. The system also relied a lot of dialogs. Let’s look at some of them:

This wordy dialog would become a small loading state today. The verbose “To terminate the operation, hold down the Apple key while you type a period” probably felt necessary because other than Shift on a typewriter, people were not familiar with modifier keys. Lisa doesn’t have the Esc key, and Mac still respects the ⌘. convention in many places in 2026.

(By the way, why would you want to stop saving? Presumably because it could take quite a while.)

In this similar dialog, you can see a reference to a “micro diskette.” Even though Lisa’s “Twiggy” disks seem gargantuan today, they were smaller compared to the original, 8″ floppy disk. (In a similar way, Lisa and other machines of the era were called “microcomputers.”)

Lisa had some proprioception: In this dialog, the disk put in the first drive is called an “upper diskette.” (Also note: more undo education.)

Disks were not large, so sometimes you had to deal with this kind of horror. It’s interesting how the dialog plain sends you to the manual – an early equivalent to eventual Learn More links.

This is another example of a rather verbose set of instructions. On one hand, this is better than “Error 456” and nothing else. On the other hand, it feels like a lot of stuff to memorize.

Also of note, the beautiful Housekeeping menu. I actually forgot about the Finder (or, in Lisa’s parlance, Desktop), so here’s a screenshot of it also:

Housekeeping was basically the junk drawer – on the Mac a year later, this will be named Special. It also has some stuff that today would be in the View menu. (This later version of Lisa calls Trash the same as the Mac. Earlier on, you would see it named a Wastebasket instead.)

Of note elsewhere in Desktop is the use of the term Stationery, roughly meaning “template,” but with extra sprinkling of desktop-metaphor skeuomorphism. Also, Attributes Of is an early version of Get Info.

Another verbose dialog (compare with Abort/​Retry/Ignore from around the same time). This is before we invented hint text that we’d just put under the buttons themselves.

In case you haven’t noticed by now, Lisa’s strings all have two spaces after a full stop!

There was lot of “you cannot” dialogs, walking you through some recovery steps.

Plug and play didn’t yet exist (this would all happen in the 1990s), so that had to be explained also.

I also love the anthropomorphic phrasing “Preferences has been told,” which I don’t believe you see anywhere today.

And I think we can round up this post with a few small delightful language details like this one.

As a huge fan of the slightly pretentious “presently” over “currently,” I smiled seeing this next to the printing status.

“Just a moment, please…” feels so old-fashioned, somehow.

And I want to end on a pre-release version of the Edit menu we’ve already seen. You can spot here Select Entire Document (instead of eventual Select All Of Document), but of course the best thing is the Copy, Cut, & Paste with an ampersand! I find it so, so charming.

I hope you enjoyed this tour. It was interesting to me to see how many of these became the standard back there and then, how many were tweaked a little bit, and which ones had to be redone more thoroughly.

Now, excuse me as I have to go deal with my whistling printer.