1985: Karen Ann Quinlan, brain-dead and nine years removed from the respirator doctors employed to keep her alive, finally dies. Her case is a landmark in the ethical debate over the lengths medical science should go in trying to preserve a life that is deemed irretrievably lost.

Karen Quinlan was a 21-year-old college student in 1975 when she ingested a combination of drugs and alcohol at a party. Feeling unwell, she was put to bed by friends who later returned to find that she had stopped breathing. By the time help arrived, Quinlan's oxygen-deprived brain was severely damaged, and she was reduced to what doctors describe as a persistent vegetative state.

Quinlan was kept alive with life-support technology, including feeding tubes and a respirator that enabled her to breathe. While there was some low-level brain function, her cognitive abilities were wiped out. When months passed without any improvement in her condition, Quinlan's parents asked that she be removed from life support and allowed to die.

Doctors refused, saying she didn't meet the criteria for brain death, meaning she could not be declared legally dead by existing medical standards. The state of New Jersey also intervened, saying it would prosecute any physician who helped end Quinlan's life.

Joseph Quinlan, Karen's father, sued to have life support discontinued, but was denied by the court. He appealed to the New Jersey Supreme Court, where he based his case on the First (freedom of religion) and Eighth (cruel and unusual punishment) Amendments. Although the court rejected both arguments, it ultimately ruled in Joseph Quinlan's favor on the basis of U.S. Supreme Court precedents affirming an individual's right to privacy.

It also rejected the state's argument that removing life support constituted a homicide, saying that Quinlan's death would result from natural causes. Following the court's ruling, Karen Quinlan was removed from the respirator.

But she did not die.

Instead, she continued breathing unaided and lived for another nine years before infection and pneumonia finally killed her. She was 31. The autopsy disclosed severe damage to her thalamus, that part of the brain that controls -- among other things -- the processing of sensory information.

Quinlan's case is a milestone, a legal precedent for other right-to-die cases. It is also a milestone in bioethics, touching as it does on a number of moral and ethical issues surrounding the end of life. As a direct result of the Quinlan case, in fact, hospitals and other health care facilities nationwide established ethics committees.

It's not an issue that will resolve itself anytime soon. The implications of prolonging life under extraordinary circumstances are only bound to multiply with every advance in medical technology.

Source: Various

It's time to retire the NSFW acronym and associated phrases. I've simply seen far too many electrons sacrificed in long, pointless arguments about what "not safe for work" means.

Whose work? Are you bleaching the hot tubs at Playboy Mansion or arranging candlelight vigils for Citizens Against Potty Mouths? Are you European? To hear some Europeans tell the story, everyone over there watches hard-core porn and smokes hashish between staff meetings where they discuss where to find the best porn and hashish.

Download audio files and subscribe to the Alt Text podcast.

Most people end up taking one of two stances, each filling in important words. First, there are those who read the classic warning as "not safe for (my) work." These people are touchy. They're the first to dive into the comments and sear off your eyebrows for not realizing that some people have jobs where the boss does not look kindly on the word jockstrap. In fact, as far as I can tell, these people have such strict work policies that the only web activity they're allowed to do on company time is complain about improper blog post labeling.

Most people, however, read NSFW as "not safe for (the platonic ideal of) work." Apparently there's this archetypal concept of a workplace that exists in the universal consciousness, and you should consult the great mother mind before putting anything on the web. Of course, not everyone is hooked into the same plane of hyper-awareness, and thus you get arguments.

For instance: bikinis? Are photos of women in bikinis safe for work? What about one-piece bathing suits? Tight pants? I've seen someone argue that a cartoon of a fully-clothed wolf-lady in a turtleneck sweater and slacks was just too steamily erotic to be work-safe. (I don't know where the arguer worked, but I hope it wasn't the Disney Store.)

And then there are those sad, twitchy souls who get hung up on the work-safety of URLs. You could post a link to a recipe for baked chicken, but if the URL contained the word breasts, they'd be convinced they're going to be shoved roughly out the backdoor of the building, to be unemployed forever as each new workplace hears of the unforgivable sin of that fateful day when you ruined their life.

Now, I know geekfolk love their acronyms and all, but I'm tired of the whole stupid conflict. Maybe, possibly, we could agree that the scope and depth of human reaction to matters biological can't be flattened into a binary designation as if stomping on a soda can? Hell, even the Motion Picture Association of America has five different categories for the relative acceptability of a movie, and its system is arbitrary and biased. What makes us think we can get away with only work-safe and not work-safe?

Here's my cutting-edge solution: How about if we actually describe things? This isn't semaphore, people. Unless you routinely blog in the middle of a desperate escape from a burning building, you've got plenty of time to say something like: "Warning: visual depiction of pert nipples and raspberry jam" or "Beware: contains pictures of Drew Barrymore in a business suit, eating ice cream and giving the camera that look" or "Cuidado: cloacas!"

If we just added those extra few words, a few additional strikes of the keyboard, then everyone could make an informed, adult decision to look around real quick before clicking through, and people could stop complaining. Except for those URL guys -- they're hopeless.

- - -

Born helpless, nude and unable to provide for himself, Lore Sjöberg eventually overcame these handicaps to insist that NSFW is pronounced "nossfaw."

1943: Brothers László and Georg Bíró, Hungarian refugees living in Argentina, patent the ballpoint pen. A half-century-old idea is coming to commercial fruition.

Lewis Waterman's invention of a practical fountain pen, patented in 1884, had solved the problem of portability. You no longer had to carry around an inkwell to be able to write when and where you wanted. But the ink still took a while to dry and was subject to running and smudging.

American banker John L. Loud patented a ballpoint pen in 1888. It used a ball-and-socket to deliver sticky, quick-drying ink. Too sticky: The ink was so coarse, it didn't really work well on paper. (It was a good idea on paper, except literally.) It did find industrial uses for writing on leather and cloth.

László Bíró was a Hungarian journalist who saw an idea in the quick-drying inks newspapers use. His brother Georg, a chemist, helped him with technical aspects. They used a tiny -- and precisely ground -- ball bearing to serve two functions. It distributed ink evenly from the cartridge to the paper for writing, and it contained the rest of the ink inside the cartridge.

The Bíró brothers made progress on improving the ballpoint to the point, so to speak, that it could write as smoothly as a fountain pen. But the situation in their homeland was deteriorating. When World War II started, they fled from Budapest to Paris, then to Madrid and finally to Buenos Aires, Argentina.

There, they applied for a patent and sought financial backing. One of their contacts, an English accountant named Harry Martin, realized that the ballpoint solved a problem faced by Britain's Royal Air Force: Conventional pens were unsuitable for writing aircraft logs, because they leaked, were too sensitive to changes in atmospheric pressure, and wouldn't let you write on a vertical or overhead surface.

Martin eventually flew to Washington and London, convincing both the U.S. Air Force and the RAF to adopt the new technology. By the time the Allies won the war, the ballpoint shared the luster of victory.

When the pens went into commercial production in 1945, they were a sensation. In the United States, the Reynolds Pen sold for $12.50 (about $150 in today's money). Yet people swarmed a New York department store to buy 8,000 of them on the first day of sale.

What? People lining up to be the first to buy new technology? Where have we heard that before? You mean, it happened in the old days, too?

Some of the earliest versions of commercial ballpoints leaked and smudged, but manufacturers eventually worked the bugs out. What? A technology brought to market before it's quite ready? How could that be?

Today, the ballpoint is what most people mean when they say just pen. And in much of the world, the generic name for a ballpoint pen is biro. In Argentina, by the way, it's a birome.

Source: BBC h2g2

Even with gas at four bucks a gallon, Yahya Fahimuddin enjoys filling his car. It's a contest, a chance to see how many miles he can squeeze from every tank. He's getting about 45 mpg these days and says you can, too.

He's a hypermiler, one of a growing number of people going to often extreme lengths to get 40, 50, even 60 mpg or more. "It's like a videogame," he says. "Can I beat my new high score?"

It's a game that some say started during the gas-rationing days of World War II and came back during the oil embargo of the 1970s. It's catching on again as fuel prices spiral out of sight, and skilled players say small changes in driving style -- eliminating hard acceleration, turning off the engine at stop lights, coasting to a stop -- can bring big improvements in fuel economy no matter what you drive.

"If you combine a handful of simple hypermiling techniques, you can easily see increases of 20 percent," said Tim Fulton, a 25-year-old designer from West Bend, Wisconsin. "Use a few more techniques and 30 percent is yours."

Fulton routinely gets 55 mpg from his 1997 Toyota Paseo, a car the EPA rates at 29 mpg. He started hypermiling about 18 months ago when he landed a new job 37 miles from home and got tired of burning so much gas. He mastered "pulse and glide" -- turning off the engine and coasting while driving. "This technique alone dramatically increased my mileage from 38 mpg to 47 mpg on my first tank," he says. "I was blown away."

Pulse and glide is controversial -- and in some states, illegal -- because the engine drives the power steering and brakes. Shut it off, critics warn, and you can't steer or stop effectively. Hypermilers say the risks are overstated. Still, there are easier -- and, arguably, safer -- things you can do to boost fuel economy. The first suggestion?

"Try the speed limit," says Rick Harrell, a moderator at the website ecomodder.com and its list of more than 100 ways to improve fuel economy. "It's a crazy idea, but it works."

The U.S. Department of Energy says gas mileage plummets above 60 mph. Every 5 mph above that speed is akin to paying another 20 cents a gallon for gas. For that reason, hypermilers scrupulously obey the speed limit. They also use the accelerator and brake as little as possible, preferring instead to coast. The truly hardcore coast to a stop, avoid using brakes around corners and draft behind trucks or other large vehicles.

Following the speed limit was quite a change for Harrell, who favored high-performance cars before getting the hypermiling bug three years ago. "I knew I needed to slow down for both environmental purposes and not to scare the living daylights out of my passengers," he says.

These days he's driving a 1998 Acura Integra and getting as much as 40 mpg in a car the EPA rates at 24. His quest for better fuel efficiency started with the car, which got a tune-up and an engine-block heater for more efficient starts. He inflated the tires to the maximum listed on the sidewall to reduce rolling resistance. And he installed a fuel-consumption gauge that provides real-time data about how much gas he's burning. He and other hypermilers highly recommend them.

"The instant feedback was great," Harrell says. "Simple things like slowing down on the highway, timing traffic lights (to maintain) momentum and coasting with the engine off started to push that fuel-efficiency number higher and higher."

Hypermilers call the gadgets "game gauges" because they're always trying to see how high they can go. The best of them get absurd figures. Wayne Gerdes, founder of cleanmpg.com and the king of hypermilers, recently drove a Honda Civic hybrid 800 miles from Chicago to New York on a single tank of gas. That works out to 65 mpg.

That's low for Darin Cosgrove of Brockville, Ontario. The co-founder of ecomodder.com averages 69 mpg in his 1998 Geo Metro, a car that got 40 mpg off the showroom floor. He's gotten as many as 133 mpg on a long trip by going slowly and using pulse and glide. He's also modified his car to make it more aerodynamic and tinkered with the drivetrain to improve efficiency.

Fahimuddin hopes to achieve those kind of numbers with his 2000 Honda Insight. It was a heap when he bought it and he's overhauled just about everything, but the clutch is shot so he's only getting 45 mpg or so. He'll replace it eventually, and add a belly pan to improve aerodynamics under the car. He figures that and a few tweaks to his driving style will get him to 60 mph.

But that's just the beginning.

"I'd like to hit 70 mpg. Seventy would be pretty sick," he says. "It's doable."

SAN FRANCISCO -- As conferences go, Apple's Worldwide Developer Conference ranks low on the sexiness factor. It's a good bet that, without the promise of a new, iPhone 3G, the programmer-centric conference would not have drawn the hundreds of broadcast, print and blog journalists that it did.

Fortunately, Apple CEO Steve Jobs did have a new iPhone up his sleeve, and after spending an hour selling the company's new iPhone development tools and previewing some of the platform's forthcoming apps, Jobs delivered what we all came for: the new phone.

The iPhone 3G, as it will be called, will cost $200 for an 8-GB version, $300 for a 16-GB version. Both will be available in a new, slightly rounded case with a shiny black-plastic back. The 16-GB version will also be available with a white back.

Breaking with Jobs' keynote tradition, the iPhone 3G is not yet available: Both models will go on sale July 11 in 22 countries. Apple plans to make the phone available in 75 countries within several months.

For details, check out our full coverage of the WWDC 2008 keynote, or browse these slides for the highlights.

Left: Jobs' normal "reality-distortion field" seemed to be at ebb during today's keynote, which many observers noted was less exciting than a typical Jobs presentation. Indeed, Jobs -- looking thinner than ever in his trademark black mock-turtleneck -- let his deputies take most of the stage time. More than one audience member noticed that Jobs seemed to be looking a little wan and have less energy than usual. And maybe it's time for a new turtleneck? This one was looking a little gray, not to mention baggy.

Apple's Phil Schiller, a regular fixture at Apple keynotes, touted the phone's new integration with Microsoft Exchange using "ActiveStink -- I mean ActiveSync." Was that an intentional dig at the Cupertino company's sometime competitor, sometime partner? Or was it a true Freudian slip, indicating Schiller's habitual distaste for the nearly ubiquitous Microsoft standard?

It's not clear. One thing is sure, though: Apple has provided deep and meaningful enterprise tools in the 2.0 version of the iPhone software, including the ability to "push" e-mail, calendar and contact updates. The company has also given IT managers the ability to zero out any data on a corporate iPhone, remotely -- handy when one of them goes missing.

Apple executive Scott Forstall demonstrates how easy it is to create an iPhone application using the software development kit's new tools. You just drag in this snippet of code here, drop a button there and presto! Instant contact manager.

Like other software-development demos, this one had a lot in common with cooking demonstrations on TV: So much depends on having everything set up just right, ahead of time. In real life, you'd spend half a day doing prep work before you got to do the five minutes of dragging-and-dropping that Forstall showed onstage.

Still, developer after developer testified to the ease of developing iPhone apps. It's clear that if you're used to coding OS X apps, the iPhone should be a cakewalk.

One of the applications shown at the March preview of the iPhone SDK was Sega's popular Nintendo DS title Super Monkey Ball. This game will be available for the iPhone for $10 -- once the iPhone App Store opens -- and will feature all four cute little monkeys and more than 100 different levels. Players control the rolling monkeys simply by tilting the iPhone this way and that.

Developers who want to create location-aware applications have plenty to drool over with the new iPhone 2.0 operating system, which has plenty of support for geographic data. In addition to the first-generation iPhone's ability to do geolocation by triangulating nearby WiFi hotspots and cell towers, the iPhone 3G will also have a GPS receiver, giving the device the ability to track its movements with great precision.

In this demo by location-sensitive social network Loopt, the orange pin denotes the user's location, while blue pins show nearby friends. Looking for someone to have lunch with? Loopt can help you hook up with someone and can even help recommend a cute little local cafe. (Friends not included.)

Major League Baseball's iPhone app takes advantage of the phone's fast 3-G and WiFi data connections to provide real-time game scores -- and "real-time video clips." That doesn't mean you'll be able to watch streaming video of the whole game, but highlight clips will be available for you to view within "minutes" after they happen, the MLB developer promised.

Among the most impressive iPhone app demos of the day were graphics-intensive ones, including a medical-imaging program and this game, called Kroll, from Digital Legends. In the demo, a fully animated character ran through a beautifully rendered fantasy landscape, battling winged demons and an immense, scary-looking giant whose steps shook the very screen.

Like the many other developers who took the stage, Digital Legends touted the ease of porting its OS X software to the iPhone -- and also provided an impressive demonstration of the phone's built-in 3-D video capabilities. In terms of graphics quality, this game looked comparable to what you might find on a PlayStation 2.

Perhaps the biggest news of the day was a three-digit number: $199, the price of the 8-GB iPhone 3G. That's a significant drop from the current price for the 8-GB first-generation iPhone ($399), and a huge drop from the $600 that it cost when Apple first introduced the iPhone a year ago.

As if the mere figure weren't impressive enough, Jobs had the price stomp onto the screen with massive booming sounds, saving him from having to actually say the word Boom.

The new iPhone 3G comes with a shiny black-plastic back, in contrast to the current model's matte aluminum. If you decide to spring for the more capacious 16-GB model (which will cost $299), you can also choose a shiny white-plastic back.

The iPhone 3G itself doesn't appear to be any smaller, thinner or lighter than the current version, although it has tapered, slightly rounded edges, which will either make it feel thinner or make it feel more like a bar of soap.

Jobs made his customary brief appearance in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by burly bodyguards, after the keynote wrapped up. However, he didn't spend any time chitchatting with the hoi polloi, and no one got any hands-on time with his shiny new gadget.

When Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans in late August 2005 and the levees around the city broke, flooding the city and killing hundreds, Ed Link was as surprised as everyone else.

He shouldn't have been. As one of the nation's foremost hurricane experts, Link, a professor at the University of Maryland, had access to the government's most sophisticated mathematical models for predicting damage from big Gulf Coast storms. But those models weren't accurate because the data they were based on were incomplete, out of date or just plain wrong.

As the floodwaters receded and the Army Corps of Engineers rushed to repair the levees, the government asked Link to lead a team of engineers and scientists from the government and private sector -- 300 in all -- to recode those old models. The goal of the vaguely named Interagency Performance Evaluation Task Force was twofold, Link told Wired.com: first, "to get that knowledge built back into the levee repairs so the same vulnerability wasn't built into the system again. The second was to come up with a 'risk assessment' looking forward."

In other words, to have a much better idea, grounded in solid science, of who might be killed or have their property destroyed in future Gulf Coast hurricanes.

The levees have long since been fixed and upgraded, but the risk assessment -- based on a mind-boggling 2 million equations -- is just now nearing completion. As the math came together beginning in 2007, the task force began publishing color-coded, interactive maps in an effort to show Gulf Coast residents what kind of danger they likely faced from hurricanes. The Google Earth-based maps can be found on the Army Corps website.

The ultimate "risk" map, the culmination of the task force's work representing tens of thousands of square miles from Florida to Texas, is slated for release this week.

Gathering the data for the levee upgrade and the risk maps took three years of back-breaking, mind-numbing effort by hundreds of team members using a surprising mix of high technology, old-fashioned detective work, trick psychology and, when all else failed, intuition. The results have revolutionized authorities' understanding of Gulf Coast hurricanes.

But whether the public will pay heed is another matter.

Katrina dissipated on August 30, 2005. In early September, rescuers had just begun going house to house in New Orleans looking for the living and the dead. But Link's team was already on the ground collecting what he called "perishable" data, such as the depths and locations of floodwaters.

For many team members, data collection was dirty, dangerous, thankless work -- and it meant short-shifting their day jobs. "A lot of people just quit what they were doing and basically worked full-time" on the new storm model, Link told Wired.com.

But for one key team member, it wasn't just about sloshing through flooded streets. Don Resio, a scientist working for the Army Corps of Engineers, went hunting for old data sets from decades-old storms, in hopes that historic hurricanes might whisper hints about future ones.

Resio told Wired.com that his hunt mostly involved polite requests to cooperative government agencies like the National Weather Service. But other, equally vital reams of data were locked in the safes of the Gulf Coast oil companies, who, with billions of dollars invested in offshore drilling platforms, were especially concerned with the high winds that come with big storms.

Resio needed that data, but it wasn't his to demand. His solution? "I made 'em feel guilty," he recalled with a laugh.

Slowly, the data came together, culled from more than 150 storms dating back a hundred years. Key figures came from new, high-tech microwave sensors installed aboard "hurricane-hunting" C-130 and P-3 airplanes operated by the Air Force and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. A scale-model levee was stress-tested in the world's most powerful centrifuge.
Courtesy Army Corps of Engineers

To create entirely new data from scratch, the task force built a detailed model of New Orleans and flooded it, essentially recreating Katrina on a nonlethal scale. And to zero in on the levees, the team built a miniature earthen levee inside the world's most powerful centrifuge. They added water and spun the centrifuge at speeds duplicating hurricane-force wind and waves, looking for when, where and how the levee would fail.

There were some surprising revelations in the course of the task force's investigation … some of which helped explain why Katrina had taken so many people by surprise. For one, Link's team found that the existing elevation maps of New Orleans were way off and would have to be totally redrawn. "We found things two feet below where people though they were," Link said. Obviously that made the city more vulnerable to flooding.

Also, in tightening up and rewriting the old mathematical models, the task force gained a clearer understanding of the limitations of modern science. "There's a lot we just don't know," Resio told Wired.com. But, as former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld once said, there are "unknown unknowns," which are bad, and there are "known unknowns," which are somewhat better. Finally the hurricane task force knew the basic outline of what it didn't know.

But when it comes to math, even known unknowns can be tricky. Resio said that for some equations, he and the other researchers needed figures, any figures. So they had to guess. That meant thinking like a hurricane, trying to intuit how wind and water might behave under certain conditions.

Necessary educated guesses aside, Resio told Wired.com that uncertainty is a key parameter of the new storm models -- especially as global warming whips the planet's fundamental weather patterns in unpredictable ways. The team knew they had to capture this unpredictability mathematically and build it into the models.

"We did a bunch of numerical tests to determine variability," Resio said. In other words, they looked at the surprising behaviors of past storms. Were winds unusually fast? Or was the ratio between the size of the storm and wind speed different than the norm? "We added that variability back into the model as a random function," Resio said, so that when officials use the new models to predict hurricane damage, they get a range of predictions. It's one of the new models' greatest strengths, Resio said.

After three years of labor by hundreds of engineers and scientists, emergency managers now have a much better understanding of what kind of damage a major storm might cause. But that doesn't mean that the people most at risk -- Gulf Coast residents -- take these predictions seriously.

Sometimes all the mathematical models and colorful maps in the world won't change a person's mind, which is why many New Orleans residents have rebuilt destroyed homes in exactly the same place, and to the same construction standard, as before Katrina.

To combat public ignorance and complacency, Resio's team includes "risk communicators" -- basically, PR reps for hurricanes. Ironically, the high-tech storm models and sophisticated maps that the risk communicators rely on might actually undermine their work, according to one academic who has studied storms.

"The technologically enhanced discourse of prediction conveys the sense that weather media viewers can be prepared," Marita Sturken, from New York University, wrote in 2006. She called this a technological "selling of preparedness."

Resio is aware of the challenge in making potential hurricane victims believe that they're at risk, even when the world's most sophisticated storm models insist they are. "How do you convince people they need to be concerned?" he said, sighing. "The risk communicators have their hands full."

Also on Portfolio

As Apple prepares to launch the iPhone 2 on Monday, competitors like Palm and RIM are not worried. On the contrary, they are licking their chops, preparing for a surge in sales, even though Apple expects to sell millions of new iPhones worldwide.

"The way I look at it is there are 1.2 billion cellphones out there, and we're just scratching the surface," said Mike Laziridis, CEO of Research In Motion, which makes the BlackBerry, the iPhone's closest rival.

Steve Jobs is expected to announce the second version of the iPhone on Monday morning during a keynote speech kicking off Apple's annual Worldwide Developer's Conference.

The iPhone 2 has already been dubbed the "BlackBerry killer." It promises to be faster, slicker and cheaper, boasting features like fast 3-G networking, Exchange support and even carrier subsidies. If the rumors prove true, it will be the iPhone many buyers have been holding out for.

It's a standard line for companies to say they "welcome competition," but it's usually a throwaway meant to deflect attention from strategic vulnerabilities.

In the case of the iPhone, however, competitors earnestly have reason to welcome Apple to the market. Sales show that what's been good for Apple has been verrrry good for smartphone makers. Retail sales of the BlackBerry, for example, are up 38 percent in the year since the iPhone's introduction.

It didn't initially look that way. When the iPhone 2 rumors first surfaced, nervous investors sold off shares of RIM under the assumption that the company would get creamed by Apple. Instead, RIM's market share of smartphones in the United States has actually swelled from 35 percent in the fourth quarter of 2007 to 45 percent in the first quarter of 2008.

"The fact of the matter is this," said Pablo Perez-Fernandez, an analyst with Global Crown Capital. "There were a lot of BlackBerrys in those stores where iPhones were selling, and there were people who may not have thought about a smartphone before, wanted the iPhone, thought it was too expensive, and bought a BlackBerry instead."

And for smartphone makers like Palm, Nokia and RIM, Apple helped whet the market's appetite while they went in for the kill, helped by discounted prices and a choice in carriers.

Palm says the sell-through rate on smartphones over the last two quarters has climbed 21 percent to 833,000 units in the third (and most recent) quarter, from 686,000 in the previous quarter (although the sell-through rate was 689,000 in the first quarter).

"The Centro has played a critical role in moving our transformational efforts along at a fast pace," said Ed Colligan, CEO and president of Palm, in a March conference call. He added that more than 70 percent of Centro buyers are traditional cellphone users who are purchasing a smartphone for the first time.

"What the iPhone did was make it cool to use smartphones," said Ramon Llamas, an analyst with research firm IDC. "Before, you had the BlackBerry, which mostly just resonated with enterprise users or business people. Now, there's a whole new market of smartphone consumers . Before the phone came out, I actually asked guys from companies like Nokia and RIM how they were going to respond, and the answer was unanimous -- it was, 'Welcome to the party, hop in the pool, the water's fine'"

It's an odd phenomenon because it's not as though Apple invented the smartphone or any of its features – touch screen devices have been around for years and lots of mobile phones already had music capabilities on phones. What Apple did was package it -- and market it -- in a way that made it attractive to mainstream consumers.

"The fact that it looks cool and sexy has helped Apple, and has called attention to a portion of the market that had been under the radar for a lot of people," Llamas said.

In many ways, the iPhone's effect on the market can be compared to what the iPod did for MP3 players.

Before Apple rolled out the iPod, the portable audio market wasn't doing much. In 1999, there were really only a handful of MP3-player makers and unit sales were marginal. Just a couple years after Apple rolled out the iPod in 2001, an industry was born.

Total sales of MP3 players in the United States jumped from a paltry couple million (depending on whose data you use) up to tens of millions over the last few years, as less-expensive models have become readily available.

"The combination of Apple's iPod device and its iTunes Store for music downloads has energized the music industry," gushed a JupiterResearch report in 2003.

Now we'll have to see whether the iPhone will have the same effect on the smartphone market.

Senior Editor Dylan Tweney contributed to this report.

Christopher Conte does not make a living as an artist. He pays his rent working as a prosthetist, designing and building artificial limbs for amputees. But after his 9-to-5 gig, the New York-based craftsman pours his knowledge of biomechanics, robotics, biology, and cyberpunk into intricate sculptures that could have sprung from the darkest recesses of H. P. Lovecraft's mind. In his latest series, Conte adapts terrestrial artifacts like dentist tools and watch innards to give pieces like Black Widow 1 (above) an extraterrestrial feel. Catch his newest exhibit, Cyberdine (a play on Cyberdyne Systems, the company from the Terminator movies that birthed SkyNet and, you know, took over the world) at the Last Rites Gallery in New York through June 29.

1902: Joe Horn and Frank Hardart open the Automat at 818 Chestnut Street in Philadelphia. It's America's first coin-operated cafeteria.

Customers would put nickels into slots, turn a knob and open a little glass door to get their food. Horn and Hardart used Swedish-patented equipment they'd imported from Berlin, which already sported a successful "waiterless restaurant."

Some sources place opening day on June 9, others June 12. What's not in dispute is the place was a bargain. The price of a cup of coffee stayed at a nickel from 1912 (when it was worth about $1.10 in today's money) until 1950 (a mere 45 cents today), before it inevitably rose to two nickels.

The company branched out to New York's Times Square in 1912 and continued to expand its operation. The firm also designed its own improved automat equipment.

Employees serving as "nickel throwers" at the head of the line exchanged currency or large coins for the nickels you'd need for the coin slots. One nickel for coffee, five for the turkey and gravy, another nickel for pie. You'd also have your choice of other diner-food favorites, including a famous macaroni and cheese, chicken potpie, Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes, creamed spinach and baked beans. Desserts were also renowned: huckleberry, pumpkin, coconut-cream and custard pies, as well as vanilla ice cream with real vanilla beans, and rice pudding with plump raisins.

It was all prepared in centralized, assembly-line kitchens using standardized recipes that called for quality ingredients. This, plus 85 locations in Philadelphia and New York, made it America's first fast-food chain.

The famous coffee that poured from coin-and-crank-operated dolphin-shaped spouts was never more than 20 minutes old. Irving Berlin composed "Let’s Have Another Cup of Coffee" about it, and the ditty became Horn & Hardart's theme song.

That's not the Automat's only spot in American culture. Edward Hopper painted it in 1927. The original Broadway set for The Producers incorporated some of the Automat. And then there's the Concerto for Horn and Hardart by P.D.Q. Bach (Peter Schickele).

Price increases eventually replaced knuckles full of nickels with quantities of quarters and even special tokens that you had to go get from the cashier. All this reduced both the efficiency and the charm of the Automat, because efficiency and economy were in fact the very heart of its charm.

The chain finally succumbed to the ever-rising price of ingredients for its original recipes, changing tastes and of course the growing popularity of fast-food chains like McDonald's and Burger King, as well as New York & Philadelphia's plethora of pizza places. Philly's last Automat closed in 1990, and New York's (on East 42nd Street) a year later. The company closed its last bakery cafe in 2005.

The Automat lives on in the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History. There you can see an elaborately decorated, 35-foot section of Philadelphia’s original 1902 Horn & Hardart, complete with mirrors and marble. It ain't your father's fast food, but it may be your great-grandma's comfort food.

Source: Various

Exactly 106 years ago, Frank Hardart and Joseph Horn opened the first Automat restaurant in the United States, at 818 Chestnut St. in Philadelphia. It had no tables, no waiters and only a single counter with 15 stools. For the first time in American restaurant dining, customers served themselves. Although this idea was groundbreaking, the restaurant had two more killer features that would make it a success and help launch a fast-food nation: The meals were cheap, and it was quick.

Unlike fast-food restaurants today, the original Automat was an attractive and socially acceptable place to be and be seen. During the Depression, the Automat also became an attractive value proposition: A plate of beans or macaroni and cheese cost only a few nickels.

Click through the gallery to see images from the first Automats and their current emulators.

Left: In the first half of the 20th century, the Horn & Hardart Automat in Manhattan was a culinary landmark.

Photo: HO/AP/Courtesy Museum of the City of New York

Rich, poor, young and old -- practically everyone in New York ate at Horn & Hardart Automats.

During its heyday, the Automat fulfilled some of the most fervent expectations about American efficiency and ingenuity -- if we could build high-quality Fords through an assembly line format, why couldn't we do the same for food?

Customers would purchase a basic meal (such as sandwiches) through coin-operated machines. The windows hid a kitchen that would prepare food throughout the day. The novelty of inserting a few nickels, pulling the lever and sliding the clear window (usually sideways) to purchase a meal was an attraction in itself. Diners often found their food enveloped in cheap, waxy paper.

Photo: HO/AP/Courtesy Museum of the City of New York

An early postcard shows an Automat at West 57th Street and Sixth Avenue in New York.

Photo: HO/AP/Courtesy Museum of the City of New York

A customer buys a cup of coffee at what was then the last Horn & Hardart Automat eatery in midtown Manhattan, in this AP file photo dated June 8, 1987. Now a fading memory, in its mid-century heyday Horn & Hardart Automat served up lamb stew and pie to millions of New Yorkers who dropped a coin into a slot and opened a small glass door to fetch their food.

The first Automat in the United States opened at 818-820 Chestnut St., Philadelphia.

[This image is in the public domain.]

The classic automat format returned to New York City in 2006, with the opening of the Bamn food automat in the East Village. Owners David Leong and Nobu X have added a little bit of Asian style to the experience, with Japanese beef sliders, and hot-pink lights. Just drop a few coins into the slot and you can get a burger, a pizza or even tasty pork buns. Bamn is open 24 hours a day.

Convenience and supercheap prices are the biggest draw for Bamn. Most dishes run between $1.50 and $2.50, and according to most reviews (from the tough-to-please foodie crowd to regular Yankee-bleacher creatures), the food is surprisingly good. So how do they make sure the buns are constantly fresh and the slots always well stocked? A full, working, chef-led kitchen lies behind the wall of glass.

Photo: Tina Fineberg/AP

The original Automat was a Swedish invention manufactured in Germany. Today, FEBO automats in Amsterdam are known for their highly caloric McKroket burgers, which are thick ragout or gravy covered in breadcrumbs and then deep-fried. Then there's the spicy Satékroket beef with peanut sauce -- "It's delicious!" (That's the FEBO slogan.) Mmm.

Baggers is a recently opened restaurant in Nuremberg, Germany, that serves its meals to customers through a winding steel rail system, getting rid of the need for waiters, or really, the need to talk to anyone while you eat.

So how do they do it? Through the wonderful magic of gravity, of course. After each meal is ordered on a touchscreen (where you can check your e-mail while you wait), the fully staffed kitchen on the second floor prepares the meal, covers it with a silver stainless plate cover and pushes it down along the rails, slowly careening it to your exact seat.

This technology not only looks cool, but saves the owners a lot on the man-hours of waiters waiting and people haggling over the tips.