第四次阅读(英文)

I've been snapping photos of everything in front of me for the last week. If

we've passed, even for a moment, I probably have a picture of your face.

I'm not a spy, but I've been using gear you might associate with 007. New

matchbook-size cameras that clip to your tie or shirt let you capture a day's worth of

encounters, then upload them to the Internet to be remembered forever.

Why on Earth would anybody want to do that? After trying out two devices that

recently began shipping, the $279 Narrative Clip and $399 Autographer, I think the

answer for many will be why wouldn't you?

Yes, I took gigabytes of boring photos of me sitting in front of a computer at

work. But when I took the tiny cameras hiking or hanging out with kids, they

produced Instagram-worthy shots. (I also discovered surprising uses, like when I

scanned my photo log to discover where I'd misplaced my watch.)

Wearable cameras are a potential solution to the growing annoyance of people

holding their phones in front of their faces throughout birthday parties, concerts and

other important moments, instead of just living them.

But there's a cost to amassing so much photographic evidence. The tiny cameras

made others uncomfortable when they found out they were being recorded. Some

friends wouldn't hug me; gossiping colleagues kept asking, 'Is that thing on?' These

devices upset a fundamental (though arguably flawed) assumption that even in

public, you aren't being recorded.

Makes you squirm, doesn't it? One reason I wanted to review these cameras is

that this kind of technology isn't going away. 'Always on' cameras are becoming

popular in home electronics like the Xbox One and a new wave of streaming video

security systems. Now you can buy cameras that attach to your wrist, ear, bike

helmet and eyeglasses.

The two cameras I tested are meant for everyday use. On the surface, they seem

very similar: plastic clip-ons that silently take photos and store them until you upload

them to a phone or computer. They arrange the photos in a contact sheet on your

phone and use software to highlight the most interesting shots, or give you a

sped-up video of your day.

The Narrative is the least obtrusive. It could be easily mistaken for a tie clip. The

Narrative has no buttons or screen, and just one function: It takes a photo of

whatever is in front of it every 30 seconds, more than 2,000 a day, with quality

comparable to the iPhone 4's camera.

A sensor makes sure the photos are always upright, no matter how the clip is

oriented, while a GPS chip inside notes where you are each time it takes the photo.

Tap on the Narrative twice and it will snap a photo right away.

The pricier Autographer is three times larger, making it flop over when I attached

it to my shirt pocket. It packs a 5-megapixel camera with fisheye lens and five sensors

-- including an accelerometer, compass and thermometer -- in order to take a picture

when it thinks your surroundings have changed. It can use Bluetooth to transfer

shots wirelessly to a phone or computer right away. All of this extra tech means the

battery lasts about 10 hours, compared with the Narrative's 30.

What are you supposed to do with all of those photos? More than 1,000 shots taken on my hike this Sunday weren't worth keeping. But 15 were delightful,

unposed shots of my friends and their kids at sunset. You can't get a 7-year-old kid to

look that naturally happy with a regular camera pointing in his face, but the candid

camera did. I could imagine taking one of these cameras to special events or on

vacation.

Judging based on price, shape and battery life, the Narrative would seem to be

the better product. But after using both cameras, I realized the Autographer was

superior because its design better respected my interactions with friends and

strangers alike.

Very few people noticed I was wearing the Narrative's tiny clip. It made me feel

like a creep for not disclosing to friends and people on the street that I was

photographing them. It offers no indication it's taking a picture and continues

snapping away unless you turn it over or put it into a pocket (which you need to

remember to do when you go to places like the toilet). After wearing it for a few days,

I decided to tape a camera icon on it.

The Autographer announces itself as a camera. Each time it snaps, a faint blue

light flashes on its front. More important, its lens is highlighted by a bright yellow

circle and has a rotating cover so everyone can see when it is and isn't watching.

In short, Autographer's design helps keep people from being jerks. The fisheye

lens means you can't accidentally take head-on photos of people unless you are very