The Internet's Ongoing Brave New World

More than a decade after the Internet became a household word, the Web continues to evolve in new and fascinating ways.

60 Minutes offered a look last night at how Redfin (motto: buy a home online and save about $10,000), an Internet-based company in the Pacific Northwest, is chipping away at the six percent commission claimed on home sales by Realtors. Not surprisingly, the entrenched interests of the real estate industry are putting up a stiff fight, using legislation to restrict this kind of operation. I expect that consumer preference, over the long haul, will enable Redfin -- which recently started handling Boston-area home sales -- and its ilk to gain more ground.

Meanwhile, in a piece entitled "Sex, Drugs, and Updating Your Blog," Clive Thompson wrote yesterday in the New York Times Magazine about how musicians like Jonathan Coulton are using the Internet to cultivate, maintain, and build their fan base:

His fans need him; he needs them. Which is why, every day, Coulton wakes up, gets coffee, cracks open his PowerBook and hunkers down for up to six hours of nonstop and frequently exhausting communion with his virtual crowd. The day I met him, he was examining a music video that a woman who identified herself as a “blithering fan” had made for his song “Someone Is Crazy.” It was a collection of scenes from anime cartoons, expertly spliced together and offered on YouTube.

“She spent hours working on this,” Coulton marveled. “And now her friends are watching that video, and fans of that anime cartoon are watching this video. And that’s how people are finding me. It’s a crucial part of the picture. And so I have to watch this video; I have to respond to her.” He bashed out a hasty thank-you note and then forwarded the link to another supporter — this one in Britain — who runs “The Jonathan Coulton Project,” a Web site that exists specifically to archive his fan-made music videos.

He sipped his coffee. “People always think that when you’re a musician you’re sitting around strumming your guitar, and that’s your job,” he said. “But this” — he clicked his keyboard theatrically — “this is my job.”