A politician from Germany’s Green Party, whose success in recent state-elections certainly has more to do with such long-standing insults as described and corporate steam-rolling autocracy rather than reactionary fears over atomic energy from just yesterday, presents a marvelous and disturbing expose (auf Englisch) on the dastardly ways that big business has at its disposal for keeping tabs on anyone, and introduces it with the prescient words of Kraftwerk’s Computerwelt.
Nonetheless, Wikipedia has persevered, growing both as an institution and a community. I had missed this feature before, but opening up the menus in the marginalia, one is treated to all sorts of undaunted scholarly applications, like Book Creator. 
I believe would be perfectly suited to drafting a study-aid or especially to supplement a travel-guide, something a bit more in depth that branches out, like a Choose your own Adventure book but within a framework and not as boundless as the open internet. One’s handiwork can be saved and formatted in a variety of ways, and then e-mailed for distribution. With just a few extra steps, one’s books can be viewed and saved on any tablet device, ready to be quoted, reworked and re-imagined. It would nicely personalize one's vacation itinerary, modularity, and saving the discovery for the trip and not the exhausted invention of the research and planning. 
The commission concluded that all conceivable warnings and barriers, including a spiky, alien wasteland on the perimeter, might have the opposite effect and entice visitors to the temples of our household atomics. Whether be it waste that was not sufficiently planned for or an uncontrolled disaster, harnessing nuclear energy has enduring consequences that are projected in the impossibly distant future, for which no auditor or insurance adjustor has actuary tables. A recent and equally philosophical post, vis-ร -vis Chernobyl--or the Chernobyl solution of entombment, remembering that the Soviets sometimes staunched oil leaks with small nuclear explosions, explores how lands made unholy through nuclear disasters can be corralled off from the population. What wandering, post-apocalyptic tribe, after all, would not be eager to occupy grounds bereft of competition and sacred to the atomic-age gods? The sources cited even suggest that a religious order be founded to keep the tradition and forbidding knowledge alive from aeon to aeon. What if today’s sectarians and secretive organizations are ancient and forgotten warnings in the same vein? 
