Infos zum Thema cloud

Will man Standorte und Projekte abstimmen, Arbeitsmappen durchreichen und Mitarbeiter unter stets derselben Nummer erreichen, packt man Festnetz, Mobilfunk und PC-Kommunikation am besten unter eine gemeinsame Oberfläche. Dieser Beitrag hat sich angesehen, wie megalearn DIE AKADEMIE von DeutschlandLAN der Telekom profitiert.

Microsoft läutet ein neues Zeitalter ein: Word, Excel, Powerpoint und Co. verbinden sich mit der Cloud und schöpfen die Möglichkeiten voll aus. Diese Microsite erläutert, wie Unternehmen von Microsoft Office 365 profitieren und welche Optionen es gibt.

Dominik Mauritz ist Gründer von vio:networks und in Bayern aufgewachsen. Wir haben ihn in seinem Berliner Büro getroffen und gefragt, was einen jungen bayerischen Unternehmer in die deutsche Hauptstadt zieht. Die Metropole sei jung, flexibel und anregend, das Kostenniveau für gewerbliche Räume niedrig und die Auswahl an jungen Talenten hoch – einfach sexy eben.

Das hängt von den eigenen Ansprüchen ab. In der Cloud muss man nehmen, was im Regal steht. Beim Hosting lassen sich Lösung und Leistung passgenau auf die Erfordernisse des Betriebs zuschneiden. Diese Microsite trennt wesentliche Vor- und Nachteile systematisch.

The Dilemma of Being a Cyborg By CARINA CHOCANO This kind of thing happens all the time now, but three or four years ago it still seemed momentous and thrilling: a sudden argument at a dinner party (something about Tom Selleck and Burt Reynolds and iconic mustaches of the ’70s) was quickly put to rest when half the people present picked up their phones and started to Google. Observing this, a friend of mine made what struck me as a very clever remark about our “stegosaurus brains.” It didn’t occur to me that only a dinosaur would delight in a dinosaur analogy. As you probably already know, but as I only recently discovered while visiting the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles with my increasingly futuristic 3-year-old (who is given to swiping a finger across things like TV sets and laptop screens and declaring them broken when they fail to respond to her touch), the theory that the stegosaurus had a “second brain” that controlled the back end of its body was debunked years ago, long after it was taught to me in grade school. So not only was my friend’s analogy contingent on a discredited theory, it also rested quaintly on an Industrial Age notion: that our phones and other data-storage and network devices are secondary to our actual brains, mere auxiliary boosters bringing up the slow-moving rear of our consciousness, rather than the indispensable space-age (post-space-age?) transmogrifiers we now understand these devices to be. “We’re all cyborgs now,” the anthropologist Amber Case said in a TED talk in 2010. For thousands of years, she said, tool-use had been “a physical modification of self. Now what we’re looking at is not a physical extension of the self but an extension of the mental self.” Our devices allow us to compress time and space in a way that we’re able to mentally transport ourselves between planes of existence with the touch of a button. (Or, rather, a digital rendering of a button.) Someone told me recently that John Perry Barlow, pre-smartphones, defined cyberspace as like “the place you go when you’re on the phone,” and Case, who grew up in thrall to the idea of instantaneous travel, realized, while writing a thesis on cellphones, that “everyone was carrying around wormholes in their pocket.” As she puts it: “You have a different type of time on every single device that you use. . . . And because of that, you start to dig around for your external memories — where did you leave them? So now we’re all these paleontologists that are digging for things that we’ve lost on our external brains that we’re carrying around in our pockets.” Recently, in the span of about a week, a friend of mine lost her hard drive and backup drive storing years of work, her entire music collection, her photos and all her e-mail. A few weeks later, duly warned, I watched my glitchy phone finally die — and take with it almost every photo I had ever taken of my daughter since the day she was born. I hadn’t backed up my phone because I couldn’t connect my new laptop to my old external hard drive and had been planning to switch from MobileMe (to which I’d forgotten the password) to iCloud (I was holding off until I could back everything up on a hard drive, not yet purchased). My digital-storage problems had become so internecine that I didn’t stop to consider my photos’ vulnerability until it was too late. Weeks later, I’m still plagued with the back-of-the-mind feeling that one of these days I’ll figure out how to make the pictures reappear as magically as they vanished. My mind isn’t sure how to process the loss because it feels at once real and illusory. This is the dilemma of being a cyborg: It’s not just that everything we once committed to memory we now store externally on devices that crash or become obsolete or are rendered temporarily inaccessible due to lack of coverage. And it’s not that we spend a lot of time storing, organizing, pruning and maintaining our access to it all. It’s that we’re collectively engaged in a mass conversion of what we used to call, variously, records, accounts, entries, archives, registers, collections, keepsakes, catalogs, testimonies and memories into, simply, data.