That's all we know

Cute. And not just because it's a 404 for Internet Indexing Giant Google, the Oracle of All Things Web. I especially like the greyed "subtext" here, as if Google is whispering to you in a lecture:

Lecturer: 404

Google: He means "that's an error."

Lecturer: The requested URL could not be found on this server.

Google: That's all he freaking knows. Like, no idea. Hey, check out the guy on the right down there: he's going to pieces! Talk about a meltdown! Jesus. Wanna get coffee after this?

Don't worry: I'm just as anti-Google as always. But I thought this was a bit of a gem.

Info + clarity = communication + conversion

Not long ago, I suggested (caustically, I admit) that we do need to tell people about the service they're signing up for in order to secure said signup.

Today, I came across this little gem, in which 37signals explain that and A/B test of a long page and a short page saw the long copy win (that is, garner more signups) by 37.5%.

I can't endorse the letter-style sales page. I really can't. That 37signals "signature" makes me want to set my hair on fire.

Similarly, given the comparison here, it's difficult to tell if it's the sales-letter style that's making the 37.5% of difference,* or the fact that the long page is neater, clearer, and far less demanding on the eye than the short one—and appears to present more information on the service.

While only a screencap of the short-form page is pictured, at first glance it's something of a dog's breakfast, don't you think?

However, what we can say is that this test indicates the following:

• Information aids conversion.
• Clarity aids conversion.

At its root, this means:

• Information aids communication.
• Clarity aids communication.

Balancing those two factors is, of course, the challenge.

*The fact that 37signals have moved away from the sales-letter style in their current sales page (accessible when you click through from the homepage) speaks volumes, to me at least, on this point.

Consolidation

Since that whole social network debacle, I've been thinking a lot about consolidation.

The web has always wanted us to be everywhere. The notions of signing up, of having an account, of being on imply a need to be here. You can be there, too—or anywhere else you like—but you really must be here. On this site. On this service.

If you're not, then what?

It's quite an indulgent question for the long-time subscriber to ponder.

Breaking points

Google+ seems officially to have broken some kind of logic rule in my psyche. Signing up meant I was on three social networks (four if you count LinkedIn)—a realisation that finally made my brain explode.

Since then, I've essentially stopped caring about anything social-network-related. Yeah, so this should be a tool for networking and ... is that a rabbit? No, wait—I think it's a hare.

Oh, so as I was saying, I can, you know, like share my stuff with followers who, when you get right down to it, are supposedly people who are actually engaged and give a shit about ... oh, by the way, I have this great Edward Gorey card sitting on my desk. Sorry, I'm trying to focus. But Gorey is one cool illustrator. And really, this card just seems more important right now.

In fact, everything seems more important.

I think that's the point here. One too many social networks and you start to think, who really cares? What does this matter? These are just the same people talking the same shit (only some of it interesting or funny) in different places. I think those places and people are, in combination, called the Social Web. And it's getting kind of boring.

It's all just the same. And in the end, none of it matters.

What matters is Edward Gorey and the hare.

[dark]

[In the roiling darkness, the wind torments the plains.

A tirade. A violence. A blind eradication. Nothing is spared, and nothing matters but pressure.

Force.

The animals are vanished; birds void the air. The darkness buckles and warps, and trees scream dumbly as pinprick lights explode across the sky.

Alone in the grass, you are no one, and the only one. Ignored and exposed; muted and championed; timeless against the night.]

Literal vs. logical: content in context

Recently, I commented that "Conclusion" is a really boring heading for an online article's conclusion. Some charming writerly/usability friends suggested that, boring as it may be, if the heading preceded a conclusion, then it's both appropriate and usable.

Of course, I wanted to explore that further. Who wouldn't?

It's true that calling your conclusion "Conclusion" is a great way to indicate to users what they'll get out of that part of the content. But it's also boring. Yes, if your content is an academic piece or a formal document, then by all means, go ahead and let it end with a "Conclusion".

But what of these articles?

• Dye Your Cat for Christmas!
• How to Play the Spoons in Six Simple Steps
  
• The Banjo and the Buffoon—My Unforgettable Weekend
  

In these cases, a conclusion heading that reflects and rounds out the content will be more coherent for users than one that reads "Conclusion".

In fact, if that cat-dyeing article is any good, "Conclusion" is likely to be among the more jarring heading options, viz.:

H1: Dye Your Cat for Christmas!
H2: Why dye?
H2: What you'll need
H2: Let's get dyeing!
H3: Step 1: Wash the coat
H3: Step 2: Rinse the coat
H3: Step 3: Apply the dye
H3: Step 4: The second rinse
H3: Step 5: Dry the coat
H2: Have a very meow-y Christmas!

Yes, we could have called the conclusion, "Conclusion". But doesn't "Have a very meow-y Christmas!", while extreme (and extremely corny) for the purposes of example, seem more contextually relevant to the content here?

Isn't it likely to speak more directly to—and perhaps further endear our brand/the article's publisher to—the cat-dyeing readership?

True, "Have a merry Christmas" is a festive farewell, and that makes it an especially suitable closing heading—a heading that actually implies the article's ending, and thus a conclusion. But headings that imply a conclusion subtley, without stating it outright (and thus boringly), can be found for all content topics.

On the much-lauded social web, writing in context, with the sensibilities of readers in mind, should be seen as a good thing. It doesn't need to undermine the content's usability if it's done well. On the contrary, I think it can be used to enhance content usability.

Okay, got it

I know you thought I was off my freaky rocker when I pushed out Hello, Buttons. So this is something of an I-told-you-so, courtesy of Google.

You could question whether "Okay" was superfluous here, and if you did I'd say "yes", but let's put our differences aside momentarily and simply bask in the glory that is the growing Hello Buttons groundswell, shall we?