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iVoyeur: Flow, Part II
;login: Enters a New Phase of Its Evolution
For over 20 years, ;login: has been a print magazine with a digital version; in the two decades previous, it was USENIX’s newsletter, UNIX News. Since its inception 45 years ago, it has served as a medium through which the USENIX community learns about useful tools, research, and events from one another. Beginning in 2021, ;login: will no longer be the formally published print magazine as we’ve known it most recently, but rather reimagined as a digital publication with increased opportunities for interactivity among authors and readers.
Since USENIX became an open access publisher of papers in 2008, ;login: has remained our only content behind a membership paywall. In keeping with our commitment to open access, all ;login: content will be open to everyone when we make this change. However, only USENIX members at the sustainer level or higher, as well as student members, will have exclusive access to the interactivity options. Rik Farrow, the current editor of the magazine, will continue to provide leadership for the overall content offered in ;login:, which will be released via our website on a regular basis throughout the year.
As we plan to launch this new format, we are forming an editorial committee of volunteers from throughout the USENIX community to curate content, meaning that this will be a formally peer-reviewed publication. This new model will increase opportunities for the community to contribute to ;login: and engage with its content. In addition to written articles, we are open to other ideas of what you might want to experience.
The bells of Basilika Sankt Kastor clang—a nagging reminder behind me that I should be in Cochem right now, exploring castles like a proper tourist. But my imagination has been hijacked, and so I sit in Koblenz, having failed to switch trains when I realized—looking at the railway map—that this was the city of Deutsches Eck, where the Mosel empties into the Rhine.
The Rhine is the second longest river in Europe (behind the Danube), and yesterday, 100 miles north of here, I watched as a long, low jalopy-looking riverboat meandered up to its bank in Dusseldorf and launched, like a fanout-algorithm, a small flock of half-a-dozen bicycles—mother and children—toward the farmers market, their baskets full of empty shopping bags.
The wide flat deck of the boat was laden with the typical boat-crap-trappings that you would expect to see on the deck of a riverboat, but there were also things foreign to that environment, like a large wooden dining room table with seven chairs, an Iron Man Big Wheel, and lush green potted plants. Through the window of the wheelhouse I could see crayon art and action figures adorning every sill as if on the lookout for inclement weather.
It was love at first sight.