Politics means always needing to say you're sorry.

That's the culture in which we live. We send out politicians out on a never-ending campaign trail, raising money by talking to groups that are diametrically opposed in their stances in the same day.

Later, the media dissects what has been said and accuses said politician of flip-flopping on issues.

It's a good system we've put together. For years, politicians have been hamstrung because only outlet for reaching the people was the media.

Not so much anymore.

These days the candidates have taken the fight directly to the people whether it's through websites that allow anyone to contribute, like Clinton Attacks Obama, candidates buying online advertising that attaches their name to certain keywords (such as change), or political parties launching attack ads on their opponents by releasing video on YouTube.

It wasn't supposed to play out exactly like this. Technology was supposed to democratize the political process, getting everyone involved in the system so that the "dirty tricks" and media skewing didn't happen.

Instead, it's turned the system into a free-for-all where politicians openly talk to the voters (good) without worrying that anyone will challenge them (bad). Sure, citizens and reporters can follow stories, but once something goes viral online it's accepted as truth for some time.

Maybe just long enough to change an election like it did with Democratic presidential candidate Howard Dean and Republican Senatorial candidate George Allen.

We live in an age where one slip or one off the cuff remark becomes, as we so often hear, a window into the soul of the candidate. More than ever we are defined by the momentary mistakes and not the aggregate of our work.

The one sure way to get in trouble is to ignore computer programmers who offer unsolicited solutions to technology problems.

Comcast found that out the hard way this week when hackers -- who found security holes in the cable company's computer network -- tried to offer that information to them. Instead of listening, the company ignored the warnings and then found themselves on the barrel-end of a hacked website.

At first blush, it's easy to see why Comcast would be honked off. Some smart-alecky kids were poking around their network. Companies don't like that. Particularly companies that have gone out of their way to control and restrict access to their distribution network (and who are used to government regulated monopolies).

When people tinker with a network, bad things can happen.

This weekend, Revision3 -- an Internet television company -- was shut down by an anti-piracy group that mistakenly identified the business as a delivery system for stolen movies.

The FBI is investigating Media Defender, the company that "accidentally" shut down Revision3, but it illustrates why unwanted "help" is considered bad in the corporate world.

So Comcast is understandably irked that these kids went ahead and showed how someone could easily shut down the website.

But there's a distinction between these two stories, one that is hard to understand unless you get the history of technology. Computer programmers are steadfast in their belief that computer code should be elegant and efficient. If it's not -- for instance, if there are security holes -- good coders MUST fix it.

In other words, the hackers who took down Comcast's site are labeled as bad because they pointed out a flaw in a system and then illustrated how it could be fixed without doing any damage to Comcast's business; meanwhile, a legitimate anti-piracy company shuttered a legitimate television network by -- quite possibly illegally -- shutting down its network using a similar, but more lethal, tactic.

Who benefits more in this scenario, Comcast or Revision3?

Likely Comcast, which now has a more secure environment because of the coders need to fix flaws.

So the lesson learned: pick up the phone when the hackers call and beware of companies who spend all their time monitoring what you do.

A few months back, Universal and News Corp. launched Hulu, a streaming video service that offers television programming and movies on-demand at no cost.

The reason, Murdoch said this week, was that he wanted to make sure his company controlled the distribution of its content online. But Hulu offers an ad-supported model that gives easy, centralized access to content, which is always a winner online.

There was much fanfare surrounding the launch because it was a major step towards an aggregation service for all types of network and studio owned content -- and it was free. The move coincided with the major networks -- and some of the large cable outlets -- offering streaming content on their websites.

This is good news for one reason: you don't ever have to pay for cable again. With an Internet connection and a computer, you can watch just about every show you want to watch.

After years of legal wrangling between the music labels and movie studios, this was a welcome change. Since its launch, Hulu has partnered with other sites, which will also distribute its programming.

There's only one problem: there are limited offering online. Hulu has some first-run television programming; however, the bulk of its offerings are older television shows and not-so-great movies. And there's a healthy dose of movie clips, which is really frustrating since -- well, I don't care about clips. If I want to see the movie, I want to see the movie.

It's a classic mistake. In a digital world, people want access to everything, which is why Apple and Amazon continue to push with their digital businesses. Amazon will add video to its selection and Apple announced it would soon begin selling movies through iTunes. 

Still, Hulu has already snagged more viewers than any other network site -- and if the company can build an advertising model around the streams, I'd expect other networks to partner with Hulu for online distribution.

The mouse has always been a clunky input device.

Engineers at the dawn of the personal computer age knew that. Users did -- and do -- as well. We know this because ATMs, airport kiosks, cell phones and just about every other digital device that isn't a computer doesn't come with a mouse.

Modern devices use the best input device ever: your finger.

Microsoft showcased its Surface technology for Windows 7 -- the next generation of its Windows operating system -- yesterday at The Wall Street Journal's digital conference. The software company said it expects its systems to be rolled out at restaurants, hotels, retails chains and other public venues that use touch screen technologies.

But there's been a weird backlash in the press about this. Not everyone is convinced this type of technology will be an upgrade.

Of course, Nintendo faced the same skepticism when it announced its game system, the Wii, would use motion-sensors with its controllers, allowing people to control action on the machine with their entire bodies instead of pushing a button or moving a joystick.

What we know now is that Nintendo's innovative controllers have taken the mystique out of games, giving "regular people" the opportunity to play. The input device -- the controller -- is no longer confusing. If you want to play tennis on the Wii, all you have to do is swing your arm like you're hitting a tennis ball. It's easy.

The touch screen technology, already available with Apple's iPod music player, is making its way straight to music creation too. Wired News has a piece about club DJs using this technology to "spin" digital records. No more scratching vinyl records. Instead, people are using the digital touch screen to manipulate sounds in digital files.

So get ready to shed that pesky mouse and get up close and personal with your computer. Touch is the new input.

Borders Books is back.

At least back on the Web. Seven years after merging much of its online operation with Amazon, the brick-and-mortar bookstore announced it would one again try to compete in the online market.

After giving its competitor a seven-year head start. Now Borders is offering an online experience that is just a few years (about seven) behind Amazon.

Last year, I sent Web billionaire Mark Cuban a basic outline for how technology could -- and should -- change journalism. I was really excited and hoped Cuban would be as well. His response was short and to the point: you haven't actually offered anything different than what is already happening, he said. You've just dressed it up with a neat interface.

In other words, my first idea was a complete failure in his eyes. Early review of Borders offers a similar critique: neat design, but where's the beef?

While Borders attempts to make up ground, Amazon continues its expansion into the digital realm, dropping its price on the Kindle, a hardware device that stores newspapers, magazine and books.

The online retailer has struggled to keep up with demand, which is counter-intuitive with the price drop. But the company is likely trying to corner the market as quickly as it can (before say Apple can create an iBookReader in nine different colors).

If the Kindle and other hardware devices take off, it could create a new digital design market.

Zinio creates digital replications of magazines, for instance, that allow customers to "experience" a magazine online in the same manner as they would with paper. The pages flip. The pictures are better quality.

On the Web, those aren't qualities people generally want. If they were, Google would be in a ton of trouble. Devices like the Kindle though could allow for both searchable content (the benefit of digital technology) and the aesthetic feel of paper.

So while Borders attempts to play catch up, Amazon is looking towards what's next.

I am the digerati -- more or less -- which is exactly why companies should ignore me.

My television is run by one of the five computers I own. My phone receives RSS feeds, email and texts all day. My Outlook Calendar is synched with Google Calendar. I have a multimedia blog about media and journalism, complete with a wiki and social network.

All that gadgetry is necessary for me to do my job, but as the folks at ReadWriteWeb break down, the "digitally savvy," high-income, wealthy few who are early technology adopters are not great predictors for businesses.

Turns out the signal-to-noise they produce -- along with what we second-tiered adopters produce -- isn't the best indicator of what services and software applications will "make it."

Super-users -- or supernodes, which are the people at the center of large networks of people -- can be so disruptive to services that Om Malik at Gigaom suggests technology companies may want to charge these folks for excessive use since it can bog down systems, thus turning off regular users.

It's an interesting proposition. But there's one problem: super users get nasty when they feel slighted and charging them money isn't going to fix that.

Super users demand service in a free world.

FriendFeed is an aggregation service that allows users compile all of their -- and their friends' -- pictures, videos, blogs and Tweets in one place. It's a great idea unless someone deletes on of their threads. When that happens, the comments that everyone else left disappears as well. That enraged Robert Scoble -- one of the Web's superest of super-users.

The big question for FriendFeed -- and other companies -- is this: who cares if the super users don't get what they want?

The business model doesn't depend on making the digerati happy. VHS didn't beat Betamax because it was a better technology. Microsoft isn't a flashier technology than Apple.

And the Web won't be ruled by the tech elite.

The New York Times finally figured out what technology companies have known for a long time: sometimes your users know way more than you do.

The venerable paper announced it would release an API, which is a set of protocols that will allow programmers who don't work for the organization to develop software applications that use the NY Times information.

Tech companies have done this for years, allowing its users to build applications as a way to expand services without a lengthy development process controlled in-house.

The press has hailed this is a progressive move and it would have been ten years ago in technology circles. Now, it just serves to remind us how far behind our traditional media sources are.

Of course, some of that is mitigated by the copyright fight Viacom is having with Google's YouTube, which smacks of familiarity for anyone who remembers the Recording Industry vs. Napster and the Motion Picture Industry vs. Scour.

In both cases, the entertainment industry determined it was better to shut down the file-trading services than work with the companies to create new distribution paths for music and movies.

Time after time, entertainment conglomerates have sought to battle with technology companies about distribution instead of finding a mutually beneficial way for each to co-exist and create new ways for people to find, experience and share content.

We're not clear how far the Times will go in allowing software developers to create new applications and users to remix information they cull from the site; however, the technology industry will be watching closely to see if this is simply a cosmetic move or an actual admission that centralized control doesn't work in a digital world.

Social media offers companies the opportunity to listen in on their users conversations, but the question facing most companies is this: what in the hell do we do once we listen?

The simple answer is this: you respond.

We know this because of the cluetrain manifesto, a book written at the dawn of the Web age, which posited that all markets are conversations -- and those conversations needed to happen in human terms.

Which is exactly what is happening.

Twitter, a mobile network that allows people to send out short messages to large groups via text messaging, has given regular folks the unprecedented ability to air their grievances with companies in public. Jeff Jarvis calls this the "canary in the coalmine," a metaphor from the days when mining companies used canaries to judge the air quality in a mine shaft.

It's an apt metaphor because companies can judge the temperate of their products using social media by monitoring what people are saying. The problem is only 29 percent of companies using social media monitor what is happening and 17 percent don't bother listening.

Once companies start listening -- and inviting that conversation -- it's important for them to realize one more important item: you can't just delete what people say. The surest way to get in trouble is to try to control the conversation.