With notable exception, I look at the Web as a gathering of grandmothers. They come to my articles hoping to find something interesting, engaging, and relevant to read.

I can easily give them that. But the question is, will they stay to hear it? If their mind starts to wander half-way through my article, their mouse will soon follow, and then they'll have left my website entirely.

My articles are an explanation of some point I'm trying to make. I don't want a "That's nice, dearie." I want a "Oh, I get it now."

Because that latter reaction gets me a customer. The former will only get me a pat on the shoulder.

The beauty of software-as-a-service (SaaS) was that it wasn't dependent on what operating system you used, or what software you had installed, or even what browser you preferred.

It was the power of a computer program accessed from the Web. Centralized, ultimately compatible with any user from any platform, requiring only a sufficiently capable online connection. Cloud computing in a whole other sense, indeed.

And yet, with so many cloud-based services being designed to work solely with sister applications, rising "walled gardens" loom over various proprietary environments. Yes I'm looking mostly at you two, Google and Apple.

Anytime you put down a piece of writing and your experience was anything less than positive, then that author has failed.

Good content writing should always fulfill something in the reader. It must impart something; be it knowledge, entertainment, or emotion. How well it executes this will decide the reader's ultimate impression of your writing, the vehicle for the information you've just imparted.

And this is important. If a reader doesn't like the impression they've formed, they likely won't come back.

Just ask anyone who's tried reading the instruction manual.

Augmented reality (AR) is starting to creep its way into our daily lives. Apps on camera-equipped smartphones let us view the world with additional information at our fingertips; a plethora of metatags and tooltips readily displayed over live-action footage to make our perceived reality only more convenient.

It is an example of virtual reality made real; of the digital world overlapping real-life. The Tupac hologram at this year's Coachella concert and the Vocaloid sensation Miku in Japan are both examples of how something artificially constructed have performed in front of live audiences as a live attraction. Are they not AR, too?

At what point does AR stop being augmented and just become reality? And should this increasing blur between the digital overlaid and the physical be something of concern?