Peak summer. As I sit to write these monthlies, not a post goes by that I don't wonder where the month went to. I'm glad to say that I have been outside a fair amount this summer -- mostly biking. I've also made a concerted effort to spend more time resistance training (weightlifting) in and effort to forestall the inevitable degradation of age. I got a brief trip down to Houston in to help with a minor relocation. I spent too much time in front of the TV (see below). That's pretty much where the month went to.
Still, it's been a decent summer so far. Low stress for the most part. But soon -- back to the damn manuscript.
[Rant] The Mighty River
[Movies] The Mythology of (My) Life
[TV] Return to Mars
[Sports] A Better Tour
Thursday, August 08, 2019
[Rant] The Mighty River
I continue to be fascinated, and occasionally amazed, by Amazon and the effect it's having on our lives. Amazon is more interesting than Google in that Google just deals in the ephemeral -- bits and pixels, information. If you want something in real life, something tactile -- an object -- then Amazon is your jam. Compared to that, Google has it easy.
The latest observation is how quickly Amazon became huge in a new space -- shipping -- once they decided they needed to do it themselves. In three years (a very short time) they went from zero to handling half their shipments themselves. I bet that in another three years, they are not only self-sufficient but offering shipping service to external customers, putting UPS, FedEX, and the Post Office at existential risk.
They have spawned a new nomad class -- folks who troll the country for deep discounted goods at brick-and-mortars, and then resell on Amazon for a small profit. This is a fascinating arbitrage; one wonders why these obscure or insolvent b-and-ms don't just list the goods on Amazon to begin with and capture the profit themselves. Which I suppose is just another angle on why they are going out of business in the first place.
Aside: Nomads are a breed apart -- whether it is for harvest work, or construction, or resort holiday work, or Amazon arbitrage -- there is a certain romanticism to travelling around to where the work is, taking whatever comes, leaving entanglements behind you. Anybody remember Then Came Bronson? Those who live the life lose any romantic notions fairly quickly, but often they stay at it, seduced by the sense detached freedom. Do a search on Van Life.
More interestingly, Zack Kanter deep dives into Amazon's remarkable success, why it's different from Walmart, and the core strategy that keeps it going. Hint: it's "customer focus", but not in the bland, droning way you hear the phrase used in standard corporate-speak. He also identifies a potential misstep. Very thought provoking.
Amazon continues to eat the world. One wonders how long it will last. If I had to predict, I would say at some point it gets large enough that it becomes a sort of post-modern East India Company, given tacit approval of the government to continue dominating as long as it continues to work for the greater benefit of the world. I'm good with that.
The latest observation is how quickly Amazon became huge in a new space -- shipping -- once they decided they needed to do it themselves. In three years (a very short time) they went from zero to handling half their shipments themselves. I bet that in another three years, they are not only self-sufficient but offering shipping service to external customers, putting UPS, FedEX, and the Post Office at existential risk.
They have spawned a new nomad class -- folks who troll the country for deep discounted goods at brick-and-mortars, and then resell on Amazon for a small profit. This is a fascinating arbitrage; one wonders why these obscure or insolvent b-and-ms don't just list the goods on Amazon to begin with and capture the profit themselves. Which I suppose is just another angle on why they are going out of business in the first place.
Aside: Nomads are a breed apart -- whether it is for harvest work, or construction, or resort holiday work, or Amazon arbitrage -- there is a certain romanticism to travelling around to where the work is, taking whatever comes, leaving entanglements behind you. Anybody remember Then Came Bronson? Those who live the life lose any romantic notions fairly quickly, but often they stay at it, seduced by the sense detached freedom. Do a search on Van Life.
More interestingly, Zack Kanter deep dives into Amazon's remarkable success, why it's different from Walmart, and the core strategy that keeps it going. Hint: it's "customer focus", but not in the bland, droning way you hear the phrase used in standard corporate-speak. He also identifies a potential misstep. Very thought provoking.
Amazon continues to eat the world. One wonders how long it will last. If I had to predict, I would say at some point it gets large enough that it becomes a sort of post-modern East India Company, given tacit approval of the government to continue dominating as long as it continues to work for the greater benefit of the world. I'm good with that.
[Movies] Mythology of (My) Life
At some point in 2030 this headline will appear: "We are now as far from Avengers: Endgame as Endgame was from Ironman." In 2049: "We are now as far from Avengers: Endgame as Endgame was from the fall of the Berlin Wall." To which everyone in 2049 will respond, "The Berlin what?" None of this will make me feel old because I will have been old for a very long time by then. Here's another one. In 2075: "We are now as far from Avengers: Endgame as Endgame was from the first Avengers comic book." This too will not make me feel old because I will be dead, assuming I don't live to be the oldest man ever. (Although, why not?)
My point is that I think the Marvel movies are some sort of high water mark. That they are going to stick in our cultural consciousness for quite some time. Unlike many of their contemporaries, I think they are pretty close to timeless. When looking to imbue greater gravitas to their action films, others have moved to playing pulled-from-the-headlines games and generating various woke forms of controversy; Marvel has stuck to the mythological basics. Yes, there has been a spot of virtue signalling here or there, but always in good taste and always subsidiary to the essence -- Heroism, Sacrifice, Justice, Vengeance, Faith, Hubris, Failure, Redemption -- all the existential qualities that have driven drama, and all the humanities, since time immemorial. If, in a few millennia, people look back on this era and interpret these films as indicative of our core outlook on the world, as we do with the myths of the ancient Greeks, I will say we did OK by Civilization and expect most eras will have done worse.
So yes, I am likely the last person you know to have seen Endgame. It now has, deservedly, the highest box office gross in all of history, displacing the execrable Avatar. It is different from the other Marvel movies, primarily because of the atmosphere. The trademark humor and repartee is still there, but the undertone is one of universal desperation. That tone was first struck in Infinity War when Cap says, "We lost."
There are three distinct parts. First is the Avengers actually avenging -- finding Thanos and killing him in retaliation for the snap. The second is triggered by a rodent of convenience, opening the door to time travel and the recovery of everyone lost in the snap. The third, in the best Greek tradition, has unintended consequences bringing about a new and larger battle with Thanos. Victory only comes, and redemption achieved, through the ultimate personal sacrifices. You could argue that this should have been two movies, which would have allowed a bit less hand waving around some character transformations that seemed to have happened in the interim (Hulk, Hawkeye) and maybe more on the state of the post-snap world.
I first started reading Marvel comics in junior high school as an outcast nerd, staring my teens in the teeth, scared and uncertain about my future. I would rush to the drug store every day just in case a new issue of one of my favorites came out -- twelve cents off the spinning rack -- my allowance permitted the purchase of four per week at most. I would read them cover-to-cover and over-and-over. I would visit flea markets to hunt down back issues. Now here are those stories and those characters again, this time at the top of the cultural food chain, with me staring 60 in the teeth, scared and uncertain about my future.
I don't know where Marvel is going to go next. I love Tom Holland/Spiderman so I'm sure I'll catch Far From Home when it comes to streaming along with whatever new Dr. Strange stuff is made, but the rest of what I have heard about "Phase 4" sounds like they are moving into a Marvel era that I am unfamiliar with -- one that came after my early teens -- so I'll likely feel less a compulsion to keep up on the new releases. I have no doubt they will be good and may affect a later generation as strongly as the last ten years have affected me. More interesting to me are the TV show plans.
Whatever the case, it's been a wonderful, uplifting gift having this mythology bookend my life so far.
My point is that I think the Marvel movies are some sort of high water mark. That they are going to stick in our cultural consciousness for quite some time. Unlike many of their contemporaries, I think they are pretty close to timeless. When looking to imbue greater gravitas to their action films, others have moved to playing pulled-from-the-headlines games and generating various woke forms of controversy; Marvel has stuck to the mythological basics. Yes, there has been a spot of virtue signalling here or there, but always in good taste and always subsidiary to the essence -- Heroism, Sacrifice, Justice, Vengeance, Faith, Hubris, Failure, Redemption -- all the existential qualities that have driven drama, and all the humanities, since time immemorial. If, in a few millennia, people look back on this era and interpret these films as indicative of our core outlook on the world, as we do with the myths of the ancient Greeks, I will say we did OK by Civilization and expect most eras will have done worse.
So yes, I am likely the last person you know to have seen Endgame. It now has, deservedly, the highest box office gross in all of history, displacing the execrable Avatar. It is different from the other Marvel movies, primarily because of the atmosphere. The trademark humor and repartee is still there, but the undertone is one of universal desperation. That tone was first struck in Infinity War when Cap says, "We lost."
There are three distinct parts. First is the Avengers actually avenging -- finding Thanos and killing him in retaliation for the snap. The second is triggered by a rodent of convenience, opening the door to time travel and the recovery of everyone lost in the snap. The third, in the best Greek tradition, has unintended consequences bringing about a new and larger battle with Thanos. Victory only comes, and redemption achieved, through the ultimate personal sacrifices. You could argue that this should have been two movies, which would have allowed a bit less hand waving around some character transformations that seemed to have happened in the interim (Hulk, Hawkeye) and maybe more on the state of the post-snap world.
I first started reading Marvel comics in junior high school as an outcast nerd, staring my teens in the teeth, scared and uncertain about my future. I would rush to the drug store every day just in case a new issue of one of my favorites came out -- twelve cents off the spinning rack -- my allowance permitted the purchase of four per week at most. I would read them cover-to-cover and over-and-over. I would visit flea markets to hunt down back issues. Now here are those stories and those characters again, this time at the top of the cultural food chain, with me staring 60 in the teeth, scared and uncertain about my future.
I don't know where Marvel is going to go next. I love Tom Holland/Spiderman so I'm sure I'll catch Far From Home when it comes to streaming along with whatever new Dr. Strange stuff is made, but the rest of what I have heard about "Phase 4" sounds like they are moving into a Marvel era that I am unfamiliar with -- one that came after my early teens -- so I'll likely feel less a compulsion to keep up on the new releases. I have no doubt they will be good and may affect a later generation as strongly as the last ten years have affected me. More interesting to me are the TV show plans.
Whatever the case, it's been a wonderful, uplifting gift having this mythology bookend my life so far.
[TV] Return to Mars
After a long and eventful hiatus, the fourth season of Veronica Mars was terrific. I say that so you know this is a rave not a pan, because I am going to talk about the bad stuff first.
A running undercurrent of the entire Veronica Mars series has been juvenile snark about class warfare. Everything bad that happens has its origin in the rich and privileged doing awful, uncaring things at the expense of the poor and oppressed. The bad guys are easy to pick out that way for sure, especially because they behave like cartoon villains for the most part. The downtrodden do awful things too, but they are forgiven or understood or have even been forced to do them by the rich and powerful. And the wokeyness is so pervasive that if a non-white comes under suspicion you know it will be a red herring because the show wouldn't have non-whites as bad guys. The show is still wonderful, but it's like the one friend you have who's great in real life, but who keeps flooding your facebook feed with inane political memes.
The rest of the show is just flat out great. If you have read any reviews I have written before you know I am an aficionado of the dark art of pacing. I feel comfortable in saying no show has ever been better paced than Veronica Mars. With all my years of watching TV I am a fine tuned instrument for figuring out when I can allow my attention to wander, use the loo, grab my iPad, without missing anything of value. I don't believe there was a single moment in the eight episodes of this season where I felt comfortable doing that. That's a remarkable achievement. What little exposition occurs is short and couched in humour and/or wicked sharp dialogue. That is high craftsmanship. It also highlights the benefit of the short intense seasons that come along with Premium and streaming TV. Back in seasons 1-3, on broadcast, they had to go deep in the well to come up 20+ episodes a season. You can only have so many good ideas, better to condense them into a short, perfectly-honed season, rather than try to dribble them out evenly such that every episode ends up compromised.
The core characters, in contrast to most of the peripherals, are very well drawn, and they are, well, characters -- entertaining personalities, flawlessly cast; people you can invest in. So much of this was a joy to watch.
It is not Pantheon material. (Pantheon = Sopranos, Deadwood, The Wire, Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Halt and Catch Fire) It doesn't shine a light on a facet of human experience, like eternal art does. It is not ruthlessly character driven. It is more the sort of thing you would put on a "favorite" list rather than a "greatest" list. Which is perfectly fine with me, I am happy with it as is, and would gleefully watch many more seasons.
It could go in the Pantheon direction, and there were hints that it might, especially during the last episode. How could it happen? 1) Dial back the political juvenalia. 2) Veronica (and maybe others) need a deep and relatable arc that is serious and personal. Something beyond being a tough feminist icon who never gives up -- that's the stuff of bad pop music and self-help books.
One possibility: Veronica is a narcissist. She ducked out on many opportunities so she could be a big fish in the small pond of Neptune. She views everyone as a supporting-character to her main narrative. She gets morally indignant at others but excuses all her own trespasses. She bugs the office of a friend and then excuses it as a necessity of the job. She encourages a young girl to use an awkward boy's affection for her to get him to do some hacking. She regularly misrepresents her plans and intentions to manipulate people, even to her friends . She even belittles her boyfriend's attempts to resolve his personal issues because it is not in line with her expectations of him. All this is classic narcissism. A Pantheon worthy story arc would be tracking her development into a genuinely empathetic person along with background on how she got so self-absorbed to begin with. (Could Keith have played a role? -- that would be some good conflict for him.) A more negative version would be her ending up suffering for her inability to make that change. That is personal and eternal.
Part of me, even most of me, doesn't want that. Just keep it entertaining and high quality and I'll be fine. I'll be happy to track Veronica's snappy patter with her father and see them matching wits with Neptune's finest indefinitely.
It may be tough, but if you are new to this, you should probably start at the beginning and plow through the broadcast episodes from long ago. (Looks to be Hulu only.) Season 1 and 2 are top notch. Season 3 a slight step down. Even with a few duds it was one of the highest quality broadcast TV shows in history -- it'll be worth it. You'll need to watch the movie, too.
A running undercurrent of the entire Veronica Mars series has been juvenile snark about class warfare. Everything bad that happens has its origin in the rich and privileged doing awful, uncaring things at the expense of the poor and oppressed. The bad guys are easy to pick out that way for sure, especially because they behave like cartoon villains for the most part. The downtrodden do awful things too, but they are forgiven or understood or have even been forced to do them by the rich and powerful. And the wokeyness is so pervasive that if a non-white comes under suspicion you know it will be a red herring because the show wouldn't have non-whites as bad guys. The show is still wonderful, but it's like the one friend you have who's great in real life, but who keeps flooding your facebook feed with inane political memes.
The rest of the show is just flat out great. If you have read any reviews I have written before you know I am an aficionado of the dark art of pacing. I feel comfortable in saying no show has ever been better paced than Veronica Mars. With all my years of watching TV I am a fine tuned instrument for figuring out when I can allow my attention to wander, use the loo, grab my iPad, without missing anything of value. I don't believe there was a single moment in the eight episodes of this season where I felt comfortable doing that. That's a remarkable achievement. What little exposition occurs is short and couched in humour and/or wicked sharp dialogue. That is high craftsmanship. It also highlights the benefit of the short intense seasons that come along with Premium and streaming TV. Back in seasons 1-3, on broadcast, they had to go deep in the well to come up 20+ episodes a season. You can only have so many good ideas, better to condense them into a short, perfectly-honed season, rather than try to dribble them out evenly such that every episode ends up compromised.
The core characters, in contrast to most of the peripherals, are very well drawn, and they are, well, characters -- entertaining personalities, flawlessly cast; people you can invest in. So much of this was a joy to watch.
It is not Pantheon material. (Pantheon = Sopranos, Deadwood, The Wire, Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Halt and Catch Fire) It doesn't shine a light on a facet of human experience, like eternal art does. It is not ruthlessly character driven. It is more the sort of thing you would put on a "favorite" list rather than a "greatest" list. Which is perfectly fine with me, I am happy with it as is, and would gleefully watch many more seasons.
It could go in the Pantheon direction, and there were hints that it might, especially during the last episode. How could it happen? 1) Dial back the political juvenalia. 2) Veronica (and maybe others) need a deep and relatable arc that is serious and personal. Something beyond being a tough feminist icon who never gives up -- that's the stuff of bad pop music and self-help books.
One possibility: Veronica is a narcissist. She ducked out on many opportunities so she could be a big fish in the small pond of Neptune. She views everyone as a supporting-character to her main narrative. She gets morally indignant at others but excuses all her own trespasses. She bugs the office of a friend and then excuses it as a necessity of the job. She encourages a young girl to use an awkward boy's affection for her to get him to do some hacking. She regularly misrepresents her plans and intentions to manipulate people, even to her friends . She even belittles her boyfriend's attempts to resolve his personal issues because it is not in line with her expectations of him. All this is classic narcissism. A Pantheon worthy story arc would be tracking her development into a genuinely empathetic person along with background on how she got so self-absorbed to begin with. (Could Keith have played a role? -- that would be some good conflict for him.) A more negative version would be her ending up suffering for her inability to make that change. That is personal and eternal.
Part of me, even most of me, doesn't want that. Just keep it entertaining and high quality and I'll be fine. I'll be happy to track Veronica's snappy patter with her father and see them matching wits with Neptune's finest indefinitely.
It may be tough, but if you are new to this, you should probably start at the beginning and plow through the broadcast episodes from long ago. (Looks to be Hulu only.) Season 1 and 2 are top notch. Season 3 a slight step down. Even with a few duds it was one of the highest quality broadcast TV shows in history -- it'll be worth it. You'll need to watch the movie, too.
[Sports] A Better Tour
I remain one of eight Americans who follows the Tour de France. For nearly a decade, the Tour has been dominated by big teams right from the start, to the point where, barring incidents, the winner was nearly foreordained. The event was becoming sclerotic. Everyone knew everyone else's strengths and weaknesses. Everyone knew the optimal strategy at any point. This year, a number of things happened to shake it up.
First, the leader -- Chris Froome -- of the dominant team -- Ineos (formerly Sky) -- dropped out with an injury a few weeks before the race. Shouldn't have been a big deal, but his backup -- Geraint Thomas -- was only given co-leadership along with a new young rider -- Egan Bernal. That suggested that team did not have total faith in Thomas and/or was looking to the future as much as the current race. Though they still looked to have the strongest team, that opened the door to all sorts of other possibilities.
Second, intentionally or not, the course changed to further open the door to alternatives outcomes. They skewed some of the more difficult stages to earlier in the race and adjusted at least one of the stages in the Alps to have a descent on the finish. In other words, it did not as heavily reward great climbers as it normally does. It was not an upheaval, just a slight shift in emphasis.
As a result a lot of actual bike racing was going on and there was drama galore. An unexpected leader -- Julian Alaphilippe -- emerged and surprised everyone with both what he could do and how long he could hold on. It was the sort of surprise that the deck was stacked against in the recent past. With each stage he was gaining more and more adherents and more and more people were actually questioning whether his expected eventual collapse would happen.
Then came the real weirdness. One team -- Movistar -- actually got so twisted up over strategy that they probably lost an opportunity to win the Tour when a rider -- Nairo Quintana -- took off and carved a huge chunk out of the current leader and could've carved out even more if his team was set on supporting a different rider -- Mikel Landa -- and so let him proceed ahead on his own, without the help that would have turned him into a contender. A truly bizarre happening.
It got weirder when came the landslide. The leader was caught behind on a big climb early in one of the final stages and the question was whether he could recover on the descent, at which he is the best in the world when suddenly the stage was called to a halt. Torrential rains triggered a landslide over a huge swath of the course. As such the day ended with a new leader and a never to be answered question about what could have been.
Perhaps ironically, the winner did end up being a climber from the most powerful team, and his co-captain took second place. But at least it wasn't foreordained. That made this one of the best Tours in many years. Let's hope this Tour clued the race organizers in to the need to mix things up a bit more often. Admiring the French countryside and the fitness of cyclists in general isn't enough to hold interest.
Addendum: One of the more frustrating aspects of watch the Tour is the abysmal TV coverage; they lose track of riders and a couple of the announcers (I won't name them) make truly inane comments. They get no coverage of attacks or crashes until they are over and being sorted out. Honestly, can they not just put a chip on every bike. Better yet, a camera. Or why not use drone cameras. Hell, we don't even get a split screen. It's straight out of the '70s. It's really remarkable for such a huge event to have so little thought and resources put into TV coverage. I suppose given there are only 8 of us in the U.S. paying attention we should be happy with what we get. On the other hand, with some better and more dramatic footage, maybe there'd be more than 8 of us.
First, the leader -- Chris Froome -- of the dominant team -- Ineos (formerly Sky) -- dropped out with an injury a few weeks before the race. Shouldn't have been a big deal, but his backup -- Geraint Thomas -- was only given co-leadership along with a new young rider -- Egan Bernal. That suggested that team did not have total faith in Thomas and/or was looking to the future as much as the current race. Though they still looked to have the strongest team, that opened the door to all sorts of other possibilities.
Second, intentionally or not, the course changed to further open the door to alternatives outcomes. They skewed some of the more difficult stages to earlier in the race and adjusted at least one of the stages in the Alps to have a descent on the finish. In other words, it did not as heavily reward great climbers as it normally does. It was not an upheaval, just a slight shift in emphasis.
As a result a lot of actual bike racing was going on and there was drama galore. An unexpected leader -- Julian Alaphilippe -- emerged and surprised everyone with both what he could do and how long he could hold on. It was the sort of surprise that the deck was stacked against in the recent past. With each stage he was gaining more and more adherents and more and more people were actually questioning whether his expected eventual collapse would happen.
Then came the real weirdness. One team -- Movistar -- actually got so twisted up over strategy that they probably lost an opportunity to win the Tour when a rider -- Nairo Quintana -- took off and carved a huge chunk out of the current leader and could've carved out even more if his team was set on supporting a different rider -- Mikel Landa -- and so let him proceed ahead on his own, without the help that would have turned him into a contender. A truly bizarre happening.
It got weirder when came the landslide. The leader was caught behind on a big climb early in one of the final stages and the question was whether he could recover on the descent, at which he is the best in the world when suddenly the stage was called to a halt. Torrential rains triggered a landslide over a huge swath of the course. As such the day ended with a new leader and a never to be answered question about what could have been.
Perhaps ironically, the winner did end up being a climber from the most powerful team, and his co-captain took second place. But at least it wasn't foreordained. That made this one of the best Tours in many years. Let's hope this Tour clued the race organizers in to the need to mix things up a bit more often. Admiring the French countryside and the fitness of cyclists in general isn't enough to hold interest.
Addendum: One of the more frustrating aspects of watch the Tour is the abysmal TV coverage; they lose track of riders and a couple of the announcers (I won't name them) make truly inane comments. They get no coverage of attacks or crashes until they are over and being sorted out. Honestly, can they not just put a chip on every bike. Better yet, a camera. Or why not use drone cameras. Hell, we don't even get a split screen. It's straight out of the '70s. It's really remarkable for such a huge event to have so little thought and resources put into TV coverage. I suppose given there are only 8 of us in the U.S. paying attention we should be happy with what we get. On the other hand, with some better and more dramatic footage, maybe there'd be more than 8 of us.
Friday, July 12, 2019
The Month That Was - June 2019
Two short trips this month, neither of which I'm going to write up. One was Up North to the area of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park where it rained every day and high temps barely touched 60. The other was to Texas hill country between San Antonio and Austin where it rained every day and nightly lows temps rarely dipped below 80. Both trips were delightful in spite of the weather.
I've been spending a lot of time in fitness activities, which as you know I try not to write about, but I might for next month as they dovetail with some other topics of interest.
I am close to starting on the revision of my manuscript. It is mostly out of my head now, so I hope to see with fresh eyes for the horrible thing that it is.
[Rant] What am I Missing?
[Rant, Sports] Fakery for No Fun and No Profit
[Cars] Meet George Jetson
I've been spending a lot of time in fitness activities, which as you know I try not to write about, but I might for next month as they dovetail with some other topics of interest.
I am close to starting on the revision of my manuscript. It is mostly out of my head now, so I hope to see with fresh eyes for the horrible thing that it is.
[Rant] What am I Missing?
[Rant, Sports] Fakery for No Fun and No Profit
[Cars] Meet George Jetson
[Rant] What am I Missing?
I stumbled on this old article from Scott Alexander about how unexpectedly common it is to be completely oblivious to normal experiences and emotions without even realizing it. Though we all acknowledge we don't understand much of the world, we at least think we see the objective aspects of it clearly. That is certainly untrue. Although we have common views of the majority of experiences, obviously, for large swaths of population there are a significant number of aspects of the world that they unknowingly don't comprehend. The article discusses people who do not have a sense of smell. They often don't realize it until late in life. They have learned how to use the language of the scent of smell -- flowers smell nice, dog poo not so much -- but they are empty words to them. Suddenly someone asks them what something smells like for which they don;t have a frame of reference and they realize there is an entire sense they don't have. They simply knew the appropriate words to say about smell, they had no conception of the actual sensation.
It is not just in the physical realm like a lack of a sense. Psychotic individuals do not have the ability to empathize. Like the folks who can't smell, they learn the social cues and comforting words to fit in, but they really have no sense for what anyone else might be feeling.
This works in the other direction, too. Sometimes it's the minority of people who sense something most don't. In that case it's the folks with the superior capability who are the weird ones. This is a recording of Free Jazz by Ornette Coleman. It is considered a seminal work of art by a jazz master. It was produced by the amazing Tom Dowd. Indisputably great jazz artists such as John Coltrane followed suit to the sound. Critics admired it then and still do to this day.
To me, it barely sounds like music. And I am not alone in this. A sample of comments from that YouTube: "...a chicken got killed..." "...this is the music I suggest at a party in order to be kicked out immediately" "...they call it free jazz because nobody will pay you to play like that" "sounds like before a concert when everybody is warming up". These comments are not just saying it's not to their taste, they are questioning whether it is music or just random noise. My initial reaction is to agree with them. I don't hear music. I hear occasional sonorous combinations of notes, but not music.
But others do. Tom Dowd, John Coltrane, and other seriously musical people do. It's a temptation to say they are just posing and being elitist. I don't think so. They have no motivation to seem cool or superior. They do hear music -- beautiful, inspiring music -- and that makes me sad. There are sounds out there that deeply move people but, like a man without a sense of smell, I cannot experience it. My brain is simply not wired in a way to comprehend it.
I have two takeaways from this. 1) The shibboleth that we are all the same under the skin is wrong. Individuals have very fundamental differences and that does not bode well for the idea of a common human bond. And 2) It makes one's BS detector more problematic. How do you differentiate your sense of BS from a shortfall in your own mind?
I have no answers, I merely highlight this as another example of how little we truly understand about ourselves. The set of objective knowns is beginning to seem like it might end up being just a very trivial set facts and observations. As I have pointed out before, my tendencies skew to rationalism and objectivity as being of the greatest value. The longer I live, the further I think we (including me) are from realizing that value or whether it even exists.
It is not just in the physical realm like a lack of a sense. Psychotic individuals do not have the ability to empathize. Like the folks who can't smell, they learn the social cues and comforting words to fit in, but they really have no sense for what anyone else might be feeling.
This works in the other direction, too. Sometimes it's the minority of people who sense something most don't. In that case it's the folks with the superior capability who are the weird ones. This is a recording of Free Jazz by Ornette Coleman. It is considered a seminal work of art by a jazz master. It was produced by the amazing Tom Dowd. Indisputably great jazz artists such as John Coltrane followed suit to the sound. Critics admired it then and still do to this day.
To me, it barely sounds like music. And I am not alone in this. A sample of comments from that YouTube: "...a chicken got killed..." "...this is the music I suggest at a party in order to be kicked out immediately" "...they call it free jazz because nobody will pay you to play like that" "sounds like before a concert when everybody is warming up". These comments are not just saying it's not to their taste, they are questioning whether it is music or just random noise. My initial reaction is to agree with them. I don't hear music. I hear occasional sonorous combinations of notes, but not music.
But others do. Tom Dowd, John Coltrane, and other seriously musical people do. It's a temptation to say they are just posing and being elitist. I don't think so. They have no motivation to seem cool or superior. They do hear music -- beautiful, inspiring music -- and that makes me sad. There are sounds out there that deeply move people but, like a man without a sense of smell, I cannot experience it. My brain is simply not wired in a way to comprehend it.
I have two takeaways from this. 1) The shibboleth that we are all the same under the skin is wrong. Individuals have very fundamental differences and that does not bode well for the idea of a common human bond. And 2) It makes one's BS detector more problematic. How do you differentiate your sense of BS from a shortfall in your own mind?
I have no answers, I merely highlight this as another example of how little we truly understand about ourselves. The set of objective knowns is beginning to seem like it might end up being just a very trivial set facts and observations. As I have pointed out before, my tendencies skew to rationalism and objectivity as being of the greatest value. The longer I live, the further I think we (including me) are from realizing that value or whether it even exists.
[Rant, Sports] Fakery for No Fun and No Profit
You probably know I have done a lot of running races - 5ks, half-marathons, etc. Most of these are local in origin. I've done some big ones, but even those are not particularly noteworthy to anyone except people running in them, or perhaps the drivers who have their commutes interrupted by road closures. So it astonishes me that people work hard to cheat at them. Honestly, what does that get you?
We usually do dishonest things for the sake of either money or status, and believe me, short of being Olympic-level elite, there is no money in running. Or at least it seems there is no money without cheating. Evidently a while back there was a trainer with a history of doping his near-elite runners. Said runners would then enter mid-level races -- too small for elites, but locally popular enough to have $500-$1000 victory prizes. These doped high-end runners, often Kenyans, would dominate the locals and disappear with their prize money before anyone thought to check on their history. Do this for 5 or so races a month and you can make a passable income or, if you live cheaply, a healthy amount of money to send back to your relatives in Kenya. Be a trainer with a stable of runners doing this and your cut could amount to real money. Here's the original story.
A couple of years ago a popular local race called the Dexter-Ann Arbor run had a scare along these lines, when a Kenyan runner won the half-marathon and started immediately demanding his prize money right away. Everybody got suspicious and there was a multi-week delay as the race authorities looked into it. Eventually the runner was found to be legit and got his money.
But most cheating is not that nefarious. The latest scandal concerned Dr. Frank Meza who seemed to set the over-70 marathon record in LA, then got suspected of cheating; basically taking shortcuts to skip sections of the course. Though he denied everything, evidence mounted. It makes sense that he's old since you would have to be from a different era to expect you can do anything in public with there being photographic evidence. In the end he was disqualified. This wasn't the first time he had been accused of cheating. He was disqualified twice from the Sacramento marathon for the same reason. Then things took a tragic turn three days later when he was found dead, cause ruled to be suicide.
Again, why cheat? This is a fully-mature, 70-year-old man; a retired physician. What on earth is he getting out of this? What is the obsession that would make him do such a thing? Is it a blow against mortality? As long as he keeps running faster he's not dying. Irrational or not, conscious or not, there must be some motivating force. What is it? I guess we'll never know.
Other cheating is more prosaic, like bib stealing. What a crook can do is steal a bib (a paid participants number that gets attached to your shirt to validate your entry) and sell it online. Some very popular races cost into the hundreds, so selling a handful of stolen bibs can be a nice quick piece of cash. It is reprehensible, but at least I understand it. Like most thievery, it's done for the money.
It's also astoundingly stupid. Racers are photographer throughout the course by companies hoping to sell them commemorative photos. All the victim has to do is find a picture of you after the race, go on social media to locate you, then call the police. They can then charge you and whoever you bought it from online. Frankly, short of trying to rob a police station, I can't think of a stupider crime. But it happens. My rule for life: Never do anything in public you would not want to see on YouTube.
Here's an interesting scam. This woman hangs out on Instagram and looks for folks who post pictures of their race bibs before the race. She then makes copies of them, essentially racing for free. In these instances, money is not the motivation. What could it be? Health? No. Certainly there is a health benefit to being able to run a 5k or something, but it doesn't come from the medal or the t-shirt. You get the same benefit from running around your neighborhood. Most of the positive motivations like love or altruism don't come into play. So what's left?
Why, our old friend Status, of course. Not in a straightforward sense -- trust me, no cares that you ran the Princess 10k at Disney in any important way. It's the Facebook photo. The image of being one of those fit people, but without actually making the sacrifice. It's your public brand. Look at the photo on the top of this page. Five girls, one bib number. You can't tell me this wasn't all for the purposes of Facebook/Instagram personality positioning. They desperately want to portray themselves as fun and fit and vibrant and gain all the Likes. To that end, they probably all pitched in for one bib then photocopied it. Scroll down on this page and look at the social media exchange at the bottom. Astonishing. If you want to understand better the interaction of status and social media, read Eugene Wei on status as a service.
This is entertaining in the same way watching a bungling incompetent is. Let's face it, when the stakes are so low, it's hard to get righteously indignant. But people who set up and work the races work hard, usually for a higher cause. Look at it this way, you wouldn't ignore someone who was shoplifting a $50 watch, so why would you turn a blind eye to someone copying a bib for a $50 race? (Broken windows, maybe?)
That said, you also have to admit that the profound level of stupidity involved does make it outright comical.
And yet, as with all fun and games, at some point something bad happens. Frank Meza almost certainly cheated, for reasons we will never truly know. He almost certainly deserved the minor shame that was cast on him. He also almost certainly didn't deserve to die.
Perhaps the common thread in all of this is an absence of perspective.
We usually do dishonest things for the sake of either money or status, and believe me, short of being Olympic-level elite, there is no money in running. Or at least it seems there is no money without cheating. Evidently a while back there was a trainer with a history of doping his near-elite runners. Said runners would then enter mid-level races -- too small for elites, but locally popular enough to have $500-$1000 victory prizes. These doped high-end runners, often Kenyans, would dominate the locals and disappear with their prize money before anyone thought to check on their history. Do this for 5 or so races a month and you can make a passable income or, if you live cheaply, a healthy amount of money to send back to your relatives in Kenya. Be a trainer with a stable of runners doing this and your cut could amount to real money. Here's the original story.
A couple of years ago a popular local race called the Dexter-Ann Arbor run had a scare along these lines, when a Kenyan runner won the half-marathon and started immediately demanding his prize money right away. Everybody got suspicious and there was a multi-week delay as the race authorities looked into it. Eventually the runner was found to be legit and got his money.
But most cheating is not that nefarious. The latest scandal concerned Dr. Frank Meza who seemed to set the over-70 marathon record in LA, then got suspected of cheating; basically taking shortcuts to skip sections of the course. Though he denied everything, evidence mounted. It makes sense that he's old since you would have to be from a different era to expect you can do anything in public with there being photographic evidence. In the end he was disqualified. This wasn't the first time he had been accused of cheating. He was disqualified twice from the Sacramento marathon for the same reason. Then things took a tragic turn three days later when he was found dead, cause ruled to be suicide.
Again, why cheat? This is a fully-mature, 70-year-old man; a retired physician. What on earth is he getting out of this? What is the obsession that would make him do such a thing? Is it a blow against mortality? As long as he keeps running faster he's not dying. Irrational or not, conscious or not, there must be some motivating force. What is it? I guess we'll never know.
Other cheating is more prosaic, like bib stealing. What a crook can do is steal a bib (a paid participants number that gets attached to your shirt to validate your entry) and sell it online. Some very popular races cost into the hundreds, so selling a handful of stolen bibs can be a nice quick piece of cash. It is reprehensible, but at least I understand it. Like most thievery, it's done for the money.
It's also astoundingly stupid. Racers are photographer throughout the course by companies hoping to sell them commemorative photos. All the victim has to do is find a picture of you after the race, go on social media to locate you, then call the police. They can then charge you and whoever you bought it from online. Frankly, short of trying to rob a police station, I can't think of a stupider crime. But it happens. My rule for life: Never do anything in public you would not want to see on YouTube.
Here's an interesting scam. This woman hangs out on Instagram and looks for folks who post pictures of their race bibs before the race. She then makes copies of them, essentially racing for free. In these instances, money is not the motivation. What could it be? Health? No. Certainly there is a health benefit to being able to run a 5k or something, but it doesn't come from the medal or the t-shirt. You get the same benefit from running around your neighborhood. Most of the positive motivations like love or altruism don't come into play. So what's left?
Why, our old friend Status, of course. Not in a straightforward sense -- trust me, no cares that you ran the Princess 10k at Disney in any important way. It's the Facebook photo. The image of being one of those fit people, but without actually making the sacrifice. It's your public brand. Look at the photo on the top of this page. Five girls, one bib number. You can't tell me this wasn't all for the purposes of Facebook/Instagram personality positioning. They desperately want to portray themselves as fun and fit and vibrant and gain all the Likes. To that end, they probably all pitched in for one bib then photocopied it. Scroll down on this page and look at the social media exchange at the bottom. Astonishing. If you want to understand better the interaction of status and social media, read Eugene Wei on status as a service.
This is entertaining in the same way watching a bungling incompetent is. Let's face it, when the stakes are so low, it's hard to get righteously indignant. But people who set up and work the races work hard, usually for a higher cause. Look at it this way, you wouldn't ignore someone who was shoplifting a $50 watch, so why would you turn a blind eye to someone copying a bib for a $50 race? (Broken windows, maybe?)
That said, you also have to admit that the profound level of stupidity involved does make it outright comical.
And yet, as with all fun and games, at some point something bad happens. Frank Meza almost certainly cheated, for reasons we will never truly know. He almost certainly deserved the minor shame that was cast on him. He also almost certainly didn't deserve to die.
Perhaps the common thread in all of this is an absence of perspective.
[Cars] Meet George Jetson
I drove a Tesla. Just briefly. I was a fascinating experience. Like all electric vehicles, it launches off the line without hesitation. Honest neck snap, like it was a Corvette with a huge V8.
A Tesla would take some getting used to. First, as far as I could tell, it cannot coast. As soon as you lift off the accelerator it is braking. If you ever drove a manual transmission, you know that lurching slow down that happens when you downshift into a lower gear at speed (called engine braking)? That what's driving a Tesla is like all the time. It would take me some getting used to to say the least, but Tesla drivers seem to like it. It affords them the ability to do "one-foot driving," rarely touching the brake pedal at all.
The other strange thing is that the dashboard is empty of any controls. Instead there is a huge iPad like device in the center of the console and literally everything is controlled from there. It is you speedometer and stereo and gas gauge and map navigation and any other function you think you need. It tells you everything you need to know, including how much charge is left and where the nearest charging station is. It also has hidden Easter eggs, like the ability to make fart noises. (Oh Elon, you madman!)
A Tesla, or at least an electric car of some sort, would make sense for me to use as a commuter. I could go for two or three days worth of back and forth to work and around town, then recharge overnight in my garage. But the range on these things still precludes any extended journeys. Teslas range from approximately 250 to 350 miles. The only one I could possibly afford is 250. If I think about my long drives -- usually up to Mackinac, occasionally Chicago -- I'm looking at at least 250-300 miles. To be on the safe side I would have to charge on the way. To Chicago there are superchargers outside Battle Creek or near St. Joseph. To Mackinac I would have one chance to recharge in Bay City. It takes a little over an hour to charge to 100%, which I would want to do because I have to have enough juice to get back to the same supercharger on the way home. Usually superchargers are near shopping centers and such, so I could probably have no problem killing an hour while I wait. But it would be an annoying hour during which I would be staring with envy at the folks filling up in minutes at the gas station. But even more worrisome is that if for some reason the supercharger was not working, I would be dead in the water -- I would have to nurse my car on reserve power somewhere, or possibly get towed, where I could find a regular outlet to use. I would not begin to know how to do that.
No I'm sorry. Electric cars will be for commuting only until superchargers are at every gas station. And for commuting a Tesla is overkill. Any one of a number of little electric versions of regular cars would be a cheaper choice.
So let's say I dropped 30k on a little electric car. I would have two choices. Either a) buy a second car for road trips and other purposes, or b) just rent a car when I needed it for a non-commuting purpose.
Having a second car around would be nice. Probably an mid-size SUV or a four door pickup. Something that would be comfortable for long road trips, and could haul mulch and bicycles and such. It wouldn't have to be new, something like a Ford Explorer with 50k mile on it would suffice. It wouldn't put massive stop and go miles on it. I'd probably just buy whatever model has the fastest depreciation so as to get the best deal. That's a solid plan A.
Plan B would be to just rent whatever vehicle I needed when the e-car wouldn't do. That would certainly be cheaper. But it suffers from not having something at the ready for non-electric duty. Renting a pick up from u-Haul or a sedan from Enterprise is a chore and requires planning. That turns me off, although I'm probably overstating the spontaneity of my life. It would likely be thousands if not tens of thousands cheaper over the course of a few years. It may be a mental hurdle I should work to get over.
In any case, a new vehicle for me is still 2-5 years off. Since I finally got the Acura sorted, it is running spectacularly. Unfailingly reliable, still tight as a drum at almost 100k, and I must admit I've gotten use to that sweet Honda 6-cylinder that is perfectly refined yet responds like a Formula 1 engine when asked.
But my short drive in the Tesla was enough to convince me that electric cars are what's next. And it might be kinda nice.
A Tesla would take some getting used to. First, as far as I could tell, it cannot coast. As soon as you lift off the accelerator it is braking. If you ever drove a manual transmission, you know that lurching slow down that happens when you downshift into a lower gear at speed (called engine braking)? That what's driving a Tesla is like all the time. It would take me some getting used to to say the least, but Tesla drivers seem to like it. It affords them the ability to do "one-foot driving," rarely touching the brake pedal at all.
The other strange thing is that the dashboard is empty of any controls. Instead there is a huge iPad like device in the center of the console and literally everything is controlled from there. It is you speedometer and stereo and gas gauge and map navigation and any other function you think you need. It tells you everything you need to know, including how much charge is left and where the nearest charging station is. It also has hidden Easter eggs, like the ability to make fart noises. (Oh Elon, you madman!)
A Tesla, or at least an electric car of some sort, would make sense for me to use as a commuter. I could go for two or three days worth of back and forth to work and around town, then recharge overnight in my garage. But the range on these things still precludes any extended journeys. Teslas range from approximately 250 to 350 miles. The only one I could possibly afford is 250. If I think about my long drives -- usually up to Mackinac, occasionally Chicago -- I'm looking at at least 250-300 miles. To be on the safe side I would have to charge on the way. To Chicago there are superchargers outside Battle Creek or near St. Joseph. To Mackinac I would have one chance to recharge in Bay City. It takes a little over an hour to charge to 100%, which I would want to do because I have to have enough juice to get back to the same supercharger on the way home. Usually superchargers are near shopping centers and such, so I could probably have no problem killing an hour while I wait. But it would be an annoying hour during which I would be staring with envy at the folks filling up in minutes at the gas station. But even more worrisome is that if for some reason the supercharger was not working, I would be dead in the water -- I would have to nurse my car on reserve power somewhere, or possibly get towed, where I could find a regular outlet to use. I would not begin to know how to do that.
No I'm sorry. Electric cars will be for commuting only until superchargers are at every gas station. And for commuting a Tesla is overkill. Any one of a number of little electric versions of regular cars would be a cheaper choice.
So let's say I dropped 30k on a little electric car. I would have two choices. Either a) buy a second car for road trips and other purposes, or b) just rent a car when I needed it for a non-commuting purpose.
Having a second car around would be nice. Probably an mid-size SUV or a four door pickup. Something that would be comfortable for long road trips, and could haul mulch and bicycles and such. It wouldn't have to be new, something like a Ford Explorer with 50k mile on it would suffice. It wouldn't put massive stop and go miles on it. I'd probably just buy whatever model has the fastest depreciation so as to get the best deal. That's a solid plan A.
Plan B would be to just rent whatever vehicle I needed when the e-car wouldn't do. That would certainly be cheaper. But it suffers from not having something at the ready for non-electric duty. Renting a pick up from u-Haul or a sedan from Enterprise is a chore and requires planning. That turns me off, although I'm probably overstating the spontaneity of my life. It would likely be thousands if not tens of thousands cheaper over the course of a few years. It may be a mental hurdle I should work to get over.
In any case, a new vehicle for me is still 2-5 years off. Since I finally got the Acura sorted, it is running spectacularly. Unfailingly reliable, still tight as a drum at almost 100k, and I must admit I've gotten use to that sweet Honda 6-cylinder that is perfectly refined yet responds like a Formula 1 engine when asked.
But my short drive in the Tesla was enough to convince me that electric cars are what's next. And it might be kinda nice.
Friday, June 07, 2019
The Month That Was - May 2019
It's uneventful news to you, but a source of great relief to me, that I've completed the first draft of my next book. It is awful, as first drafts uniformly are, but from now on it's all a matter of revision. It's a big step on to a lower grade of climb. I am pleased.
All TV this month. Not that all I did was watch TV, but there were three significant finales this month. I did tons of chores, many frustrating, some rather icky. I'll spare you the discussion of those. You're welcome.
[TV] Endgame of Thrones
[TV] The Last Big Bang
[TV] Deadwood Epilogue
All TV this month. Not that all I did was watch TV, but there were three significant finales this month. I did tons of chores, many frustrating, some rather icky. I'll spare you the discussion of those. You're welcome.
[TV] Endgame of Thrones
[TV] The Last Big Bang
[TV] Deadwood Epilogue
[TV] Endgame of Thrones
Folks are generally critical on the final season, and the finale in particular, and so am I, but perhaps not as much as others. Although the narrative fearlessness slacked and fan service grew after they ran out of book material to work from, at least they never lost sight of the timeless thread. Dani overcomes adversity and wages war for good and justice, which turns out to be a not so clean and noble an activity. She does damage, causes harm, imposes her will -- it can't be helped. She gets used to power, grows enthralled with herself. Then when push comes to shove, the principles become an excuse for power as opposed to the reverse. She becomes what every well-intentioned crusader becomes given enough time -- a tyrant.
The lesson: the only ones who are worthy to lead are those who don't want to. It's an old story. It is central to the myth of America's founding, but not uniquely by any means. It is what's forgotten by every socialist dreamer an starry-eyed revolutionary. It is a curse on civilization. Kudos for keeping that theme front and center, when I'm sure there were enormous temptations to build simple and easy good guys and bad guys and construct a fair and just comeuppance for all. That, as opposed to anything else, is the thing, along with the top notch cinematography and effects, that makes the show a cut above.
But the complaints are many and valid. Some of the story arcs took rather abrupt turns in the final two episodes -- Jaime suddenly deciding he was hateful after all; the Hound deciding his only reason for living was to kill his hated brother -- all despite years of character development. Honestly it felt like the War with the Night King could have been a six episode season in itself, as could the war for the Iron Throne. Maybe absent George R.R. Martin the writer's room went from pursuing the characters and their individual cruelties to barrelling into a defined ending and simply closing off the main threads, plot holes be damned. I'm all in favor of efficient narratives, especially if you've run out of creative ideas, but wedging each war into a single episode seemed like a bit of a shortchanging. Then of course there were the famous beverage scandals: the Starbucks cup and the bottle of water. Maybe they had all just had enough and wanted it over with.
(This may be the only time I have ever suggested a work of fiction should have been longer than it was.)
In any case, it falls well short of the TV pantheon. I doubt I will rewatch it, but it is now seared into our culture and that is no small achievement.
The lesson: the only ones who are worthy to lead are those who don't want to. It's an old story. It is central to the myth of America's founding, but not uniquely by any means. It is what's forgotten by every socialist dreamer an starry-eyed revolutionary. It is a curse on civilization. Kudos for keeping that theme front and center, when I'm sure there were enormous temptations to build simple and easy good guys and bad guys and construct a fair and just comeuppance for all. That, as opposed to anything else, is the thing, along with the top notch cinematography and effects, that makes the show a cut above.
But the complaints are many and valid. Some of the story arcs took rather abrupt turns in the final two episodes -- Jaime suddenly deciding he was hateful after all; the Hound deciding his only reason for living was to kill his hated brother -- all despite years of character development. Honestly it felt like the War with the Night King could have been a six episode season in itself, as could the war for the Iron Throne. Maybe absent George R.R. Martin the writer's room went from pursuing the characters and their individual cruelties to barrelling into a defined ending and simply closing off the main threads, plot holes be damned. I'm all in favor of efficient narratives, especially if you've run out of creative ideas, but wedging each war into a single episode seemed like a bit of a shortchanging. Then of course there were the famous beverage scandals: the Starbucks cup and the bottle of water. Maybe they had all just had enough and wanted it over with.
(This may be the only time I have ever suggested a work of fiction should have been longer than it was.)
In any case, it falls well short of the TV pantheon. I doubt I will rewatch it, but it is now seared into our culture and that is no small achievement.
[TV] The Last Big Bang
Contra Game of Thrones, Big Bang Theory went out with barely a whisper, although I think it is no less ingrained into our culture. The end was a simple farewell. No great revelations or changes, the very last image was the group eating dinner in the same spot along the couch as they always had.
BBT started out as a nerd culture darling, and lived long enough to become unfashionable. It succeeded over the years for two reasons -- first: exceptionally sensitive and professional writing. They never talked down to the audience. And they did not delude themselves that it could be the story of four nerds forever. They evolved very skillfully into what became a Friends clone. This was widely derided but, as someone on another sitcom once pointed out, you gotta have somewhere for the characters to go. Especially if you are going to crank out 20-ish episodes a year for 12 years. What I'm saying is, this was a master class in TV writing professionalism, compromises and all.
The second thing it had was the unparalleled comedic capabilities of the regular ensemble. Even when the writers fell short, these folks could provide a delivery that killed. Some of that is natural, but some of it is also hard work and diligent effort. I suspect they all spent a lot of time in front of the mirror with their scripts, or possibly drove their loved ones crazy with requests to read lines. Notice how many characters were introduced over the years only to be discarded after a few episodes. These are the ones who looked promising in casting, but when the heat was on, they couldn't keep up with the regulars.
It is unfashionable to say so, but I think BBT's reputation will grow in the upcoming years. I know of at least four instances of people who came to it late, stumbling on a rerun, then devoted themselves to catching up on all the seasons they missed. (One of those is me.) You can do that, because TBS reruns about four episodes every night during prime time. And the fact that they continue to do that after many years suggests that those four people aren't the only ones late to the party.
Well done all around.
BBT started out as a nerd culture darling, and lived long enough to become unfashionable. It succeeded over the years for two reasons -- first: exceptionally sensitive and professional writing. They never talked down to the audience. And they did not delude themselves that it could be the story of four nerds forever. They evolved very skillfully into what became a Friends clone. This was widely derided but, as someone on another sitcom once pointed out, you gotta have somewhere for the characters to go. Especially if you are going to crank out 20-ish episodes a year for 12 years. What I'm saying is, this was a master class in TV writing professionalism, compromises and all.
The second thing it had was the unparalleled comedic capabilities of the regular ensemble. Even when the writers fell short, these folks could provide a delivery that killed. Some of that is natural, but some of it is also hard work and diligent effort. I suspect they all spent a lot of time in front of the mirror with their scripts, or possibly drove their loved ones crazy with requests to read lines. Notice how many characters were introduced over the years only to be discarded after a few episodes. These are the ones who looked promising in casting, but when the heat was on, they couldn't keep up with the regulars.
It is unfashionable to say so, but I think BBT's reputation will grow in the upcoming years. I know of at least four instances of people who came to it late, stumbling on a rerun, then devoted themselves to catching up on all the seasons they missed. (One of those is me.) You can do that, because TBS reruns about four episodes every night during prime time. And the fact that they continue to do that after many years suggests that those four people aren't the only ones late to the party.
Well done all around.
[TV] Deadwood Epilogue
I am not disappointed. But in truth, it is not the Deadwood I remember. How could it be given only a couple of hours to work with thanks to HBO's feckless programming? Regarding high concepts, the Deadwood movie is negligible, essentially a repeat of season 3 where the death of an admired local at the hands of George Hearst coalesces the townsfolk into heroic defiance. One of the things that raised Deadwood (the series) to the level of great art was the magnificent original theme of how civilization emerges from barbarism, how cultural institutions grow out of brutal anarchy. That theme is not touched in any meaningful way. It's been done. Deadwood is no longer anarchy (although still the wild west) and they are already unified against Hearst when he reappears on the eve of statehood for South Dakota, this time as a Senator, seeking, as always, more treasure.
So, no, the big theme shining a light on humanity is not on display, instead we get the beautiful character arcs, elegantly completed under horrible constraints of time. The time allowed for a single movie. The time before David Milch succumbs to dementia.
Seth Bullock, now a U.S. Marshall, is still keeping law and order. He has settled into a comfortable domestic life with his wife and three children. He is a civilized man now, but that state will be tested once again by Hearst. The Hearst victim is Charlie Utter this time. And it kicks off a spiral of Bullock sinking back into the savage ways of old. Vengeful, violent, and doubly upended by the sudden reappearance of Alma, the body count rises. In the end, when given the choice to defend Hearst against a mob or let vigilante justice reign, he is tempted to let the mob have its way, only siding with law after the sight of his wife and kids looking on with horror. Bullock is tempted to savagery and saved by the institution of family.
Timothy Olyphant is also given the most moving scene. When talking with the terrified, possibly mortally injured, man who was witness to Charlie Utter's murder, he finds out that Charlie likely died a happy man and quotes Scripture about how despite our flaws, we are all God's Witnesses. In the face of this information, Seth Bullock comes to tears. And here, in many ways, we see the brilliance of Milch. There is no direct explanation of why, after a lifetime of churning events, Bullock is finally touched. Is it sorrow for Charlie and all the others who've been lost? Is it for his inability to have protected the innocent? Is it gratitude for his life and his turn as one of God's Witnesses? We don't know why, perhaps we'll pick a reason that appeals to us, but we know his tears ring so very true.
Trixie gets a redemption arc. She's still with Sol and is now pregnant, resisting getting married because (paraphrasing) it's enough of a miracle that a whore of her vintage is pregnant. In other words, she is still of a mind that she is not worthy of good things. She is also deeply haunted by her continued existence as it is dependent entirely on an innocent being murdered in her place. Trixie being Trixie (as Al would say, a loopy f*ckin' c*nt) this guilt and fear is expressed as foul-mouthed rage and she let's Hearst have it in public loud and clear and filthy, effectively revealing herself as the one who shot him years ago, and thereby giving Hearst yet more leverage. In combination with the birth of her son and the looming threat of Hearst's revenge, she breaks down about her guilt to Al, who is in no condition to help, and in this act finds a way to turn her guilt and anger to a constructive end. She decides if she is going out, she is going out honest to herself. The marriage of her and Sol is for her an act of defiance. She even offers a truce to Hearst when he interrupts her wedding. And although not entirely clear, it looks like she is going to end up running the Gem and probably cleaning it up.
Jane, though on a secondary arc has a similar journey, her self-doubt and it's accompanying alcoholism has kept her moving all these years. Now she's back to get closure with Joanie and meet her end where Wild Bill is laid to rest. She finds that Joanie went on a parallel track of escape through different means. She gets involved in the battle against Hearst in memory of her old friend Charlie Utter, and in fact, gets to be the one who saves the day through heroic action. She passes off her heroism as the spirit of Wild Bill acting through her, but Joanie is there to tell her that is was her -- that she is the hero, and in that act they are both redeemed.
Lastly, we have Al. Al is lost to us, and himself. He aided the town's move towards civilization, then civilization outran him to Statehood. He has only a small role to play in the dramatic action of the movie, whereas he used to be a prime mover. All he can muster in the face of Hearst the Senator are some poetic insults. His liver is shot and his memory is dicey. He, like Trixie, is haunted by the memory of the murder that saved Deadwood, but for him that is probably just one of many such acts. No, what haunts Al the most is the realization that after all the years and abuse and betrayal, he has feelings for Trixie -- fatherly feelings. Whatever sort of monster he was in his life, he ended up human and gained at least a small measure of forgiveness. (At this point the viewer must be on guard against a misguided, Sopranos-esque sympathy for a familiar evil.)
Al faces death by hoping not to delay the inevitable "I'd not prolong the chewing up, nor the spittin out," and so defies Doc Cochrane's orders to quit drinking. He does what he can to help against Hearst, but he can't do much, it's up to civilization to police itself. He has to be happy to make the most of what little capability he has left, including the proper disposal of his assets upon his death. In the end he finishes the first stanza of the Lord's Prayer -- "Our Father, which art in Heaven" -- with "Let Him f*cking stay there." Is that Al or Milch talking?
Deadwood the series ended at the right time for the wrong reason. It is, I think, going to be remembered as one of the profound and enduring works of art from our time. Deadwood the movie does not achieve that height nor does it seek to; it is a warm and gratifying epilogue. We end with Hearst in jail, Trixie and Saul married, Jane coupled with Joanie, and Bullock a happy family man. We know this happiness is fragile as glass. We know Hearst will find release and do God knows what in revenge. But we also no there will be no stopping civilization. Deadwood the movie cements Milch's optimistic vision of justice with compromise. May his ending be as happy.
So, no, the big theme shining a light on humanity is not on display, instead we get the beautiful character arcs, elegantly completed under horrible constraints of time. The time allowed for a single movie. The time before David Milch succumbs to dementia.
Seth Bullock, now a U.S. Marshall, is still keeping law and order. He has settled into a comfortable domestic life with his wife and three children. He is a civilized man now, but that state will be tested once again by Hearst. The Hearst victim is Charlie Utter this time. And it kicks off a spiral of Bullock sinking back into the savage ways of old. Vengeful, violent, and doubly upended by the sudden reappearance of Alma, the body count rises. In the end, when given the choice to defend Hearst against a mob or let vigilante justice reign, he is tempted to let the mob have its way, only siding with law after the sight of his wife and kids looking on with horror. Bullock is tempted to savagery and saved by the institution of family.
Timothy Olyphant is also given the most moving scene. When talking with the terrified, possibly mortally injured, man who was witness to Charlie Utter's murder, he finds out that Charlie likely died a happy man and quotes Scripture about how despite our flaws, we are all God's Witnesses. In the face of this information, Seth Bullock comes to tears. And here, in many ways, we see the brilliance of Milch. There is no direct explanation of why, after a lifetime of churning events, Bullock is finally touched. Is it sorrow for Charlie and all the others who've been lost? Is it for his inability to have protected the innocent? Is it gratitude for his life and his turn as one of God's Witnesses? We don't know why, perhaps we'll pick a reason that appeals to us, but we know his tears ring so very true.
Trixie gets a redemption arc. She's still with Sol and is now pregnant, resisting getting married because (paraphrasing) it's enough of a miracle that a whore of her vintage is pregnant. In other words, she is still of a mind that she is not worthy of good things. She is also deeply haunted by her continued existence as it is dependent entirely on an innocent being murdered in her place. Trixie being Trixie (as Al would say, a loopy f*ckin' c*nt) this guilt and fear is expressed as foul-mouthed rage and she let's Hearst have it in public loud and clear and filthy, effectively revealing herself as the one who shot him years ago, and thereby giving Hearst yet more leverage. In combination with the birth of her son and the looming threat of Hearst's revenge, she breaks down about her guilt to Al, who is in no condition to help, and in this act finds a way to turn her guilt and anger to a constructive end. She decides if she is going out, she is going out honest to herself. The marriage of her and Sol is for her an act of defiance. She even offers a truce to Hearst when he interrupts her wedding. And although not entirely clear, it looks like she is going to end up running the Gem and probably cleaning it up.
Jane, though on a secondary arc has a similar journey, her self-doubt and it's accompanying alcoholism has kept her moving all these years. Now she's back to get closure with Joanie and meet her end where Wild Bill is laid to rest. She finds that Joanie went on a parallel track of escape through different means. She gets involved in the battle against Hearst in memory of her old friend Charlie Utter, and in fact, gets to be the one who saves the day through heroic action. She passes off her heroism as the spirit of Wild Bill acting through her, but Joanie is there to tell her that is was her -- that she is the hero, and in that act they are both redeemed.
Lastly, we have Al. Al is lost to us, and himself. He aided the town's move towards civilization, then civilization outran him to Statehood. He has only a small role to play in the dramatic action of the movie, whereas he used to be a prime mover. All he can muster in the face of Hearst the Senator are some poetic insults. His liver is shot and his memory is dicey. He, like Trixie, is haunted by the memory of the murder that saved Deadwood, but for him that is probably just one of many such acts. No, what haunts Al the most is the realization that after all the years and abuse and betrayal, he has feelings for Trixie -- fatherly feelings. Whatever sort of monster he was in his life, he ended up human and gained at least a small measure of forgiveness. (At this point the viewer must be on guard against a misguided, Sopranos-esque sympathy for a familiar evil.)
Al faces death by hoping not to delay the inevitable "I'd not prolong the chewing up, nor the spittin out," and so defies Doc Cochrane's orders to quit drinking. He does what he can to help against Hearst, but he can't do much, it's up to civilization to police itself. He has to be happy to make the most of what little capability he has left, including the proper disposal of his assets upon his death. In the end he finishes the first stanza of the Lord's Prayer -- "Our Father, which art in Heaven" -- with "Let Him f*cking stay there." Is that Al or Milch talking?
Deadwood the series ended at the right time for the wrong reason. It is, I think, going to be remembered as one of the profound and enduring works of art from our time. Deadwood the movie does not achieve that height nor does it seek to; it is a warm and gratifying epilogue. We end with Hearst in jail, Trixie and Saul married, Jane coupled with Joanie, and Bullock a happy family man. We know this happiness is fragile as glass. We know Hearst will find release and do God knows what in revenge. But we also no there will be no stopping civilization. Deadwood the movie cements Milch's optimistic vision of justice with compromise. May his ending be as happy.
Friday, May 03, 2019
The Month That Was - April 2019
Going into my 58th summer, I find my interests starting to change. Not to bore you by writing about running, but I have spent the last few years measuring the time by always having another race or such on my schedule. I even planned my vacations around interesting races I saw around the country. Now I find I am less enthusiastic about getting up at 6am on what would otherwise be a precious sleep in day and dropping $50 only to discover how much slower I am than in the past. I already have more race t-shirts and finishers medals than I know what to do with. I think I'm going to scale that back this year. As you age, you should spend more time weight training anyway.
Two book reviews this week, neither of which I recommend. (How's that for encouraging you to read on?) But it's good that I am reading again. Reading is another pastime that has waned as I have aged. Same with movies -- I have so very little interest in new movies I think for the same reason. As time goes by ever faster I find the cost of wasting a couple of hours on a bad movie or a couple of days on a bad book has risen. It is a disincentive to seeking new things.
Speaking of movies, Endgame came out. Although I likely won't see it until it hits Amazon, I may get desperate enough to see it in the theatre, but not until the crowds die off. Evidently having a good pee strategy is key. At that point I'm sure I'll give you another post about the symbolic significance of Marvel book-ending my adulthood (such as it is).
[Books] Book Look: Voyage to Arcturus
[Books] Book Look: The Courage to be Disliked
[Good Links] Link Soup
Two book reviews this week, neither of which I recommend. (How's that for encouraging you to read on?) But it's good that I am reading again. Reading is another pastime that has waned as I have aged. Same with movies -- I have so very little interest in new movies I think for the same reason. As time goes by ever faster I find the cost of wasting a couple of hours on a bad movie or a couple of days on a bad book has risen. It is a disincentive to seeking new things.
Speaking of movies, Endgame came out. Although I likely won't see it until it hits Amazon, I may get desperate enough to see it in the theatre, but not until the crowds die off. Evidently having a good pee strategy is key. At that point I'm sure I'll give you another post about the symbolic significance of Marvel book-ending my adulthood (such as it is).
[Books] Book Look: Voyage to Arcturus
[Books] Book Look: The Courage to be Disliked
[Good Links] Link Soup
[Books] Book Look: Voyage to Arcturus, by David Lindsay
This can only appeal on a single dimension, really, and that is as a curiosity. There is no coherent plot, minimal characterization, and to call the style workmanlike is to go overboard with praise.
I chose to read this for a number of reasons. Harold Bloom of The Western Canon fame claimed a lifelong obsession with it. C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien both claimed to be influenced by it. Horror writer Clive Barker called it a "masterpiece". Yet, I had never even heard of it. Also, its copyright is expired so it was free on Gutenberg.
We start with a seance and are introduced to a number of standard Edwardian British characters. One of the guests has invited a pair of strangers to join in. Then weird things start to happen which eventually end up with the two strangers and the medium taking a spaceship to Tormance, a planet circling the star Arcturus.
One of the strangers, Maskull, starts encountering the denizens of Tormance, each new encounter places Maskull in a strange new moral system. He immediately adapts to each one, his body literally transforming, as he moves seamlessly from total pacifist to murdering people with his mind, and various convoluted situations in between. I couldn't really follow the causal links because there weren't any that I could see.
In the end, Maskull appears to have come to the realization that all human morality is arbitrary, or at least no one moral system is provably better than others -- maybe. I'm not sure, and I don't think I'm supposed to be. The final actions are outright cryptic.
Should you read Voyage to Arcturus? No. It yields no particular rewards unless you have an interest in writerly techniques. It eschews most traditional qualities of good writing but does demonstrate how a reader can be drawn to see existential or spiritual concepts when confronted with an oblique, ambiguous, fantasy narrative. The tone was influential to writers mentioned above, who put it to use in more gratifying ways. Despite their praise, on its own merits, it's just a curiosity.
I chose to read this for a number of reasons. Harold Bloom of The Western Canon fame claimed a lifelong obsession with it. C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien both claimed to be influenced by it. Horror writer Clive Barker called it a "masterpiece". Yet, I had never even heard of it. Also, its copyright is expired so it was free on Gutenberg.
We start with a seance and are introduced to a number of standard Edwardian British characters. One of the guests has invited a pair of strangers to join in. Then weird things start to happen which eventually end up with the two strangers and the medium taking a spaceship to Tormance, a planet circling the star Arcturus.
One of the strangers, Maskull, starts encountering the denizens of Tormance, each new encounter places Maskull in a strange new moral system. He immediately adapts to each one, his body literally transforming, as he moves seamlessly from total pacifist to murdering people with his mind, and various convoluted situations in between. I couldn't really follow the causal links because there weren't any that I could see.
In the end, Maskull appears to have come to the realization that all human morality is arbitrary, or at least no one moral system is provably better than others -- maybe. I'm not sure, and I don't think I'm supposed to be. The final actions are outright cryptic.
Should you read Voyage to Arcturus? No. It yields no particular rewards unless you have an interest in writerly techniques. It eschews most traditional qualities of good writing but does demonstrate how a reader can be drawn to see existential or spiritual concepts when confronted with an oblique, ambiguous, fantasy narrative. The tone was influential to writers mentioned above, who put it to use in more gratifying ways. Despite their praise, on its own merits, it's just a curiosity.
[Books] Book Look: The Courage to be Disliked, Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga
Somewhere in my digital wanderings, I stumbled across the description of this book as a "serious philosophical inquiry that is a best-seller in Japan." I found instead a somewhat ham-fisted attempt to advocate for Adlerian psychology in the form of a Socratic Dialogue. Which is not necessarily such a bad thing.
There is no subtlety in the formation of this Socratic Dialogue. The two characters speaking are simply named "Youth" and "Philosopher." So, points for directness. As a literary device the problem is that the Youth is naive and feckless, as are most youths, and the Philosopher is condescending and more than a little self-satisfied, as are most philosophers. It's all a bit on-the-nose. I understand the point is the exchange of ideas and not literary quality, but even if something is just pretending to be a work fiction, poor dramatics is distracting.
In any event, it seems the key difference between Adlerian and Freudian psychologies is in determining the cause of one's feelings. A Freudian might say something like, "Your dysfunctional behavior is caused by being abused as a child." An Adlerian might say, "You've chosen to behave dysfunctionally as a reaction to being abused as a child." The plain difference is that Adler says your behavior is your choice, Freud says it is thrust upon you.
In reality these are not as different as they seem. A Freudian would probably treat your dysfunction by invoking your ego (the thing that is not the id or the superego) to rationalize your way to functional behavior. Adler would say you need to find the courage to change your behavior. Either way the prescription is to decide not to be dysfunctional, roughly speaking.
There is a certain appeal to Adler in that he offers you no easy excuse for your behavior. With Adler, you have no opportunity to wallow in victimhood and self-pity. Lord knows that sort of positivism is needed in a world where being a victim, or rather being seen as a victim, is rewarded. Increasingly we are told we are helpless before the elite and privileged. Or perhaps science is explaining how our behavior is just an expression of our genes. Adler makes you responsible for you.
Setting aside how closely it matches reality or not, as an approach to living the one life you have been given, it's probably best to pursue a positive self-empowered course, and not to design lifestyle around dwelling on assuming you're powerless. Such assumptions can be self-fulfilling.
The core concepts that the world has taken from Adler are the fodder of the standard sermons you have heard from our endless self-help sources, from Dale Carnegie to the Serenity Prayer. And there is much wisdom in it, too: self-acceptance and self-value are intertwined with finding meaning in interpersonal relationships. It's good advice if a bit vague. I feel about it the way I feel about Jordan Peterson or any number of philosophers which is that if the bulk of people in the world were to try to live this lifestyle, the world would be measurably improved.
It is not scientific. None of the Austrian founders of psychology -- Freud, Yung, Adler -- were scientific in the sense of being verifiable via experiment. There was also no conception at the time of the dominant psychology model of today which is evo-psych. It would be fascinating to read a reconciliation of Adler and evo-psych. My own bias is that Adler's exhortations work for most everyone in the developed world, where we all run around trying find happiness and meaning. For edge case personalities and folks living hand-to-mouth the detachment from the negative experiences of life is probably not as feasible. I honestly can't say I buy the idea that everyone's unhappiness is due to a lack of courage to change. Maybe most people in most circumstances, but it's hard for me to imagine living an entire life and not having a unhappiness thrust upon you at some point. I have found that large stretches of life can amount to little more than doing crap I don't want to do. I have gotten out of those situations in time, which to Adler, means I found the courage to change. I'm not so sure I didn't just luck out.
Should you read The Courage to be Disliked? Probably not. If you are familiar with the self-help genre (and most people are) you will likely encounter little new information. It is interesting to follow the attempt to translate it into a more formal philosophy, but not especially rewarding. It may anger you because it can seem uncaring and cold-hearted, but that is likely because the vocabulary used for certain concepts, such as "courage" and "inferiority", is primed for misinterpretation. At worst it will be harmless, at best you may gain a nugget of wisdom. But considering the annoying format, you're better off looking elsewhere.
There is no subtlety in the formation of this Socratic Dialogue. The two characters speaking are simply named "Youth" and "Philosopher." So, points for directness. As a literary device the problem is that the Youth is naive and feckless, as are most youths, and the Philosopher is condescending and more than a little self-satisfied, as are most philosophers. It's all a bit on-the-nose. I understand the point is the exchange of ideas and not literary quality, but even if something is just pretending to be a work fiction, poor dramatics is distracting.
In any event, it seems the key difference between Adlerian and Freudian psychologies is in determining the cause of one's feelings. A Freudian might say something like, "Your dysfunctional behavior is caused by being abused as a child." An Adlerian might say, "You've chosen to behave dysfunctionally as a reaction to being abused as a child." The plain difference is that Adler says your behavior is your choice, Freud says it is thrust upon you.
In reality these are not as different as they seem. A Freudian would probably treat your dysfunction by invoking your ego (the thing that is not the id or the superego) to rationalize your way to functional behavior. Adler would say you need to find the courage to change your behavior. Either way the prescription is to decide not to be dysfunctional, roughly speaking.
There is a certain appeal to Adler in that he offers you no easy excuse for your behavior. With Adler, you have no opportunity to wallow in victimhood and self-pity. Lord knows that sort of positivism is needed in a world where being a victim, or rather being seen as a victim, is rewarded. Increasingly we are told we are helpless before the elite and privileged. Or perhaps science is explaining how our behavior is just an expression of our genes. Adler makes you responsible for you.
Setting aside how closely it matches reality or not, as an approach to living the one life you have been given, it's probably best to pursue a positive self-empowered course, and not to design lifestyle around dwelling on assuming you're powerless. Such assumptions can be self-fulfilling.
The core concepts that the world has taken from Adler are the fodder of the standard sermons you have heard from our endless self-help sources, from Dale Carnegie to the Serenity Prayer. And there is much wisdom in it, too: self-acceptance and self-value are intertwined with finding meaning in interpersonal relationships. It's good advice if a bit vague. I feel about it the way I feel about Jordan Peterson or any number of philosophers which is that if the bulk of people in the world were to try to live this lifestyle, the world would be measurably improved.
It is not scientific. None of the Austrian founders of psychology -- Freud, Yung, Adler -- were scientific in the sense of being verifiable via experiment. There was also no conception at the time of the dominant psychology model of today which is evo-psych. It would be fascinating to read a reconciliation of Adler and evo-psych. My own bias is that Adler's exhortations work for most everyone in the developed world, where we all run around trying find happiness and meaning. For edge case personalities and folks living hand-to-mouth the detachment from the negative experiences of life is probably not as feasible. I honestly can't say I buy the idea that everyone's unhappiness is due to a lack of courage to change. Maybe most people in most circumstances, but it's hard for me to imagine living an entire life and not having a unhappiness thrust upon you at some point. I have found that large stretches of life can amount to little more than doing crap I don't want to do. I have gotten out of those situations in time, which to Adler, means I found the courage to change. I'm not so sure I didn't just luck out.
Should you read The Courage to be Disliked? Probably not. If you are familiar with the self-help genre (and most people are) you will likely encounter little new information. It is interesting to follow the attempt to translate it into a more formal philosophy, but not especially rewarding. It may anger you because it can seem uncaring and cold-hearted, but that is likely because the vocabulary used for certain concepts, such as "courage" and "inferiority", is primed for misinterpretation. At worst it will be harmless, at best you may gain a nugget of wisdom. But considering the annoying format, you're better off looking elsewhere.
[Good Links] Link Soup
This is an amazing analysis of social media, from Eugene Wei. He looks into the heart of social media from an entrepreneurial perspective and comes to the understanding the success or failure in SM is dependent on how well it facilitates creation and distribution of status. Tom Wolfe would be proud.
The lost world of 20 years ago. When he got to discussing the glorious, decentralized blogosphere we used to have versus the twitter/facebook/instagram monoculture of today, it got misty in here.
Most of what you read on the internet is written by insane people. Sort of. But never ever mistake social media for reality. In fact, never ever mistake any media for reality.
If you are of a certain age (probably over 50) and have a bit of a twisted sense of humor, you'll appreciate Cris Shapan's satirical ads and book covers. More here. I can't find a central repository (which would be a great Cris Shapan book title).
Nathan Pyle's comic strip, Strange Planet, is utterly delightful.
The lost world of 20 years ago. When he got to discussing the glorious, decentralized blogosphere we used to have versus the twitter/facebook/instagram monoculture of today, it got misty in here.
Most of what you read on the internet is written by insane people. Sort of. But never ever mistake social media for reality. In fact, never ever mistake any media for reality.
If you are of a certain age (probably over 50) and have a bit of a twisted sense of humor, you'll appreciate Cris Shapan's satirical ads and book covers. More here. I can't find a central repository (which would be a great Cris Shapan book title).
Nathan Pyle's comic strip, Strange Planet, is utterly delightful.
Sunday, April 07, 2019
The Month That Was - March 2019
This month passed quickly and relatively painlessly. The signs of Spring arrived as expected - the opening of Dairy Queen, Opening Day, and small army of people I have to look after the lawn and landscaping contacting me to re-up for another year. Taxes got done.
I got a nice long trip to Florida in - highlights below. More importantly I believe I am in the home stretch of the first draft of my current project. It's been particularly tough. I don't know if that is because I am working in a genre for the first time, or because my focus and creativity are starting to degrade with age.
I'm not sure I want to know. Really, all I want to do is enjoy my upcoming summer.
[Travel] Wild and Civilized Florida
[Movies] Flick Check: Captain Marvel
[Books] Book Look: Killing Commendatore
I got a nice long trip to Florida in - highlights below. More importantly I believe I am in the home stretch of the first draft of my current project. It's been particularly tough. I don't know if that is because I am working in a genre for the first time, or because my focus and creativity are starting to degrade with age.
I'm not sure I want to know. Really, all I want to do is enjoy my upcoming summer.
[Travel] Wild and Civilized Florida
[Movies] Flick Check: Captain Marvel
[Books] Book Look: Killing Commendatore
[Travel] Wild and Civilized Florida
I still have no affinity for Disney World. I don't hate it and am certainly not offended by it. My knee-jerk response is to respect the hustle, but even that is too cynical. Actually, I tremendously admire the operational excellence. The service level is legendary and rightly so -- you can stop anyone in any theme park and ask them about something specific and they will tell you; nobody shrugs and says I don't know. Technological excellence is there too. You can buy a wristband which is then connected to your room or credit card and identifies you in the pictures that are taken at various places throughout the park which you can then purchase. Although you know you are spending money it doesn't feel like it. Brilliant. Lines are long but everything moves at a steady pace. So much is so well thought out, you can't help but be impressed, and disappointed at the level of effort put into every other service business you encounter in the outside world.
The closest thing to a theme park for an adult is Epcot which is a pretty cool place. Epcot has some interesting food and shops in the various "countries". China is a good one. There's a 360 theatre with an Intro to China which was visually stunning 20 years ago but is beginning to seem terribly out of date. There are often live bands. (Tony Orlando was featured this day, and it will take all my might not to snark.) Morocco is cool-looking. Canada, perhaps ironically, is also interesting.
If you are a grown-up Epcot's the spot to visit -- unless you want to count Disney Springs (formerly Downtown Disney, formerly Pleasure Island) which is really just a big shopping/restaurant area. It used to have The Adventurer's Club which was the closest thing Disney ever did to targeting adults, so it had to be killed.
(Aside: Remember the days when Disney was angling for more adults and Vegas was angling for more families? Those were not better days. Stay in your lane.)
I managed to see the fireworks from Grand Floridian which is the flagship Disney resort and worthy of the name. In truth, there's a lot to recommend in Disney and I can see how adults might want to visit, even without kids. It has what could be called "dependable quality". If you want a really nice trip where you can enjoy the good life and minimize the possibility of a snafu. Disney is your place.
But still, it's not for me. What's for me is the Gulf Coast.
For the second time in my life I swam with Manatees. I can't recommend this highly enough. This is not swimming in a pool with captive Manatees. This is swimming with them out in the wild in their natural habitat. And when I call it swimming, I mean more like floating. You are given a wetsuit and snorkel gear, and a big foam noodle because they really don't want you actually swimming, the splashing and noise bothers the creatures. Your guide locates them from the boat, then everyone gently, quietly enters the water from 20 yards away or so and slowly makes their way to the manatees location.
A Manatee is actually the closest thing to a living Disney movie creature. They have no natural enemies and they only eat sea grass, so they are pretty much totally chilled out about everything. They are huge, friendly, and peaceful. They just sort of slowly lumber about in the shallows eating and chilling. If they surface near you for air, you are permitted to gently stroke them -- they have a kind of slimy feel -- before they re-submerge. The adults take no notice of you. At one point I had swam far from the boat and on my way back actually collided directly with a big adult that was surfacing. It took literally had no reaction; I was nothing more than a fly spec to it. The calves, on the other hand, will occasionally roll about on the surface and play.
Crystal River is Manatee Central, mainly because it is a spring fed river where the year round water temperature is between 72-74 degrees. So in the winter, the Manatees migrate in to get out of the colder Gulf. I have been told that the ideal time to see them is December and January when they will be most numerous. However even when it gets warm the cows stay with their young calves that are not ready to migrate back into the Gulf. That makes it a year-round activity because it is the calves that are the most playful.
To see the manatees you sign up for a tour. There are a number companies that run tours on pontoon style boats. My only suggestion is you get one that's going out earliest in the day; it gives you a slight edge in finding and claiming manatees. There is a certain honor among the tour companies -- it seems if you have found a manatee the other tours stay away until your tour group moves on.
The downside to this is Crystal River is pretty far from anything. It is located on what is called Florida's "Nature Coast", which is the more lightly-developed area starting about an hour north of Tampa and extending to the panhandle. This area is an interesting mix of early gentrification and rednecky old Florida. I like it. It's not so terribly high priced as the rest of the Gulf, suggesting I may settle here in senescence. Crystal River itself is about an hour and a half from Tampa and about 2 hours from Orlando. So if you want get on a 6:00am boat, you probably want to overnight it.
After Crystal River I spent the usual couple of days in Sarasota. I got to take a brief boat tour of Sarasota Bay something I haven't done in decades, and take in a Spring Training game. I wanted to see the Tigers but the schedule didn't work out. Not to worry though, in South Florida, you're never far from a Grapefruit League game. The Pirates play in the next city north, Bradenton, so I was able to catch a game before I flew out. As a bonus, right near the stadium there is an old-time barbershop -- two chairs, old guys sitting around telling dirty jokes -- so I figured what-the-hell.
I hopped in the chair and the fellow just asked. "Do you want a regular haircut?" I was unsure how to respond, I mean, at Great Clips they have all my haircutting records and history digitized. So I said "Sure." What followed was a five minutes cut with comb and clippers, he never touched the scissors. It was short but pretty darn good. The charge: $7. I gave him a $10 and told him to keep the change. After all then time I've spent in this area, it can still offer a new experience.
One thing that continues to fascinate me is how the veneer of civilized Florida is so thinly spread over the swamps and bayous. Trolling on a boat around Sarasota Bay you think nothing of seeing a stray manatee surface or a pair of dolphins hurdling the waves or a pelican plunging deep and coming up with a full beak. Everywhere you go the little geckos dart away at the sound of your footsteps. A State park full of gators and snapping turtles is usually within easy reach. Idiots buy exotic pets and abandon them to die in the wild, but they just thrive. Even in the middle of Disney World kids got to witness some real nature as a crane had landed in small garden and snapped up a gecko, swallowing it alive right in view of the children. Take that Animal Kingdom.
Despite centuries of development and what is perhaps the most virulent consumer culture known to man, Florida is still a tropical wilderness. If that's something you appreciate, you may be a Florida Man.
The closest thing to a theme park for an adult is Epcot which is a pretty cool place. Epcot has some interesting food and shops in the various "countries". China is a good one. There's a 360 theatre with an Intro to China which was visually stunning 20 years ago but is beginning to seem terribly out of date. There are often live bands. (Tony Orlando was featured this day, and it will take all my might not to snark.) Morocco is cool-looking. Canada, perhaps ironically, is also interesting.
If you are a grown-up Epcot's the spot to visit -- unless you want to count Disney Springs (formerly Downtown Disney, formerly Pleasure Island) which is really just a big shopping/restaurant area. It used to have The Adventurer's Club which was the closest thing Disney ever did to targeting adults, so it had to be killed.
(Aside: Remember the days when Disney was angling for more adults and Vegas was angling for more families? Those were not better days. Stay in your lane.)
I managed to see the fireworks from Grand Floridian which is the flagship Disney resort and worthy of the name. In truth, there's a lot to recommend in Disney and I can see how adults might want to visit, even without kids. It has what could be called "dependable quality". If you want a really nice trip where you can enjoy the good life and minimize the possibility of a snafu. Disney is your place.
But still, it's not for me. What's for me is the Gulf Coast.
For the second time in my life I swam with Manatees. I can't recommend this highly enough. This is not swimming in a pool with captive Manatees. This is swimming with them out in the wild in their natural habitat. And when I call it swimming, I mean more like floating. You are given a wetsuit and snorkel gear, and a big foam noodle because they really don't want you actually swimming, the splashing and noise bothers the creatures. Your guide locates them from the boat, then everyone gently, quietly enters the water from 20 yards away or so and slowly makes their way to the manatees location.
A Manatee is actually the closest thing to a living Disney movie creature. They have no natural enemies and they only eat sea grass, so they are pretty much totally chilled out about everything. They are huge, friendly, and peaceful. They just sort of slowly lumber about in the shallows eating and chilling. If they surface near you for air, you are permitted to gently stroke them -- they have a kind of slimy feel -- before they re-submerge. The adults take no notice of you. At one point I had swam far from the boat and on my way back actually collided directly with a big adult that was surfacing. It took literally had no reaction; I was nothing more than a fly spec to it. The calves, on the other hand, will occasionally roll about on the surface and play.
Crystal River is Manatee Central, mainly because it is a spring fed river where the year round water temperature is between 72-74 degrees. So in the winter, the Manatees migrate in to get out of the colder Gulf. I have been told that the ideal time to see them is December and January when they will be most numerous. However even when it gets warm the cows stay with their young calves that are not ready to migrate back into the Gulf. That makes it a year-round activity because it is the calves that are the most playful.
To see the manatees you sign up for a tour. There are a number companies that run tours on pontoon style boats. My only suggestion is you get one that's going out earliest in the day; it gives you a slight edge in finding and claiming manatees. There is a certain honor among the tour companies -- it seems if you have found a manatee the other tours stay away until your tour group moves on.
The downside to this is Crystal River is pretty far from anything. It is located on what is called Florida's "Nature Coast", which is the more lightly-developed area starting about an hour north of Tampa and extending to the panhandle. This area is an interesting mix of early gentrification and rednecky old Florida. I like it. It's not so terribly high priced as the rest of the Gulf, suggesting I may settle here in senescence. Crystal River itself is about an hour and a half from Tampa and about 2 hours from Orlando. So if you want get on a 6:00am boat, you probably want to overnight it.
After Crystal River I spent the usual couple of days in Sarasota. I got to take a brief boat tour of Sarasota Bay something I haven't done in decades, and take in a Spring Training game. I wanted to see the Tigers but the schedule didn't work out. Not to worry though, in South Florida, you're never far from a Grapefruit League game. The Pirates play in the next city north, Bradenton, so I was able to catch a game before I flew out. As a bonus, right near the stadium there is an old-time barbershop -- two chairs, old guys sitting around telling dirty jokes -- so I figured what-the-hell.
I hopped in the chair and the fellow just asked. "Do you want a regular haircut?" I was unsure how to respond, I mean, at Great Clips they have all my haircutting records and history digitized. So I said "Sure." What followed was a five minutes cut with comb and clippers, he never touched the scissors. It was short but pretty darn good. The charge: $7. I gave him a $10 and told him to keep the change. After all then time I've spent in this area, it can still offer a new experience.
One thing that continues to fascinate me is how the veneer of civilized Florida is so thinly spread over the swamps and bayous. Trolling on a boat around Sarasota Bay you think nothing of seeing a stray manatee surface or a pair of dolphins hurdling the waves or a pelican plunging deep and coming up with a full beak. Everywhere you go the little geckos dart away at the sound of your footsteps. A State park full of gators and snapping turtles is usually within easy reach. Idiots buy exotic pets and abandon them to die in the wild, but they just thrive. Even in the middle of Disney World kids got to witness some real nature as a crane had landed in small garden and snapped up a gecko, swallowing it alive right in view of the children. Take that Animal Kingdom.
Despite centuries of development and what is perhaps the most virulent consumer culture known to man, Florida is still a tropical wilderness. If that's something you appreciate, you may be a Florida Man.
[Movies] Flick Check: Captain Marvel
The ultimate verdict on this is that it is a fair-to-middling entry in the Marvel canon, which by default makes it a better than average action film. It has baggage, though. It has the undertone of a female empowerment message. All well and good, but we know what that means -- some significant minority will interpret it as a political statement and voice displeasure. In response another group will call them racists because that's what we call people we disagree with. So a small corner of the world with outsized visibility will be sniping at each other on Twitter and Reddit.
I blame Marvel for this. If the movie was good enough dramatically you wouldn't need to hype any sociological underpinnings. My guess is the folks at Marvel probably sensed that it wasn't up to their standards (I emphasize their) and providing a theme of female empowerment is a cheap way to cover up shortcomings. Resorting to current events and societal trends for good play is what a filmmaker does when he runs out of human ideas.
As a result the movie will not be able to be judged on its merits, but I'm going to try anyway. The plot is pretty much a standard origin story formula: Normal human experiences a freak occurrence which makes her super, overcomes many adversaries, obstacles, and reversals of fortune on the path to finding her heroic purpose. Marvel's characteristic ironic humor is on display, although no one in this film has the comic chops to carry it off like the Avengers. The action scenes are solid and the CGI -- especially with respect to Nick Fury -- is frankly amazing. No characters here, though, are particularly engaging and the villain is unmemorable.
So all-in-all, I would call it an average-to-slightly-below-average film for Marvel (again for Marvel). Still, I have concerns...
Captain Marvel is theoretically going to be a lynchpin in the next generation (the post-Avengers era, Phase 4 is it?) of Marvel films. It is not an auspicious start.
More importantly, Captain Marvel is being touted as the secret weapon that allows the Avengers to defeat Thanos. If that turns out to be the case, it will be enormously disappointing. We have spent ten years with the Avengers, gone through hell with them, shared their personal (personal -- not sociological, not political) conflicts and growth. To bring someone else in at the last minute to save the day would be a disaster, dramatically speaking. I still hold out hope that Fiege is smarter than that and doesn't believe setting up the next generation of films is worth spoiling the original story.
In any event, if you haven't seen Captain Marvel, it's likely you can safely pass on it. Other than her existence and her being very powerful, there is little in the movie that will have direct bearing on Endgame.
I blame Marvel for this. If the movie was good enough dramatically you wouldn't need to hype any sociological underpinnings. My guess is the folks at Marvel probably sensed that it wasn't up to their standards (I emphasize their) and providing a theme of female empowerment is a cheap way to cover up shortcomings. Resorting to current events and societal trends for good play is what a filmmaker does when he runs out of human ideas.
As a result the movie will not be able to be judged on its merits, but I'm going to try anyway. The plot is pretty much a standard origin story formula: Normal human experiences a freak occurrence which makes her super, overcomes many adversaries, obstacles, and reversals of fortune on the path to finding her heroic purpose. Marvel's characteristic ironic humor is on display, although no one in this film has the comic chops to carry it off like the Avengers. The action scenes are solid and the CGI -- especially with respect to Nick Fury -- is frankly amazing. No characters here, though, are particularly engaging and the villain is unmemorable.
So all-in-all, I would call it an average-to-slightly-below-average film for Marvel (again for Marvel). Still, I have concerns...
Captain Marvel is theoretically going to be a lynchpin in the next generation (the post-Avengers era, Phase 4 is it?) of Marvel films. It is not an auspicious start.
More importantly, Captain Marvel is being touted as the secret weapon that allows the Avengers to defeat Thanos. If that turns out to be the case, it will be enormously disappointing. We have spent ten years with the Avengers, gone through hell with them, shared their personal (personal -- not sociological, not political) conflicts and growth. To bring someone else in at the last minute to save the day would be a disaster, dramatically speaking. I still hold out hope that Fiege is smarter than that and doesn't believe setting up the next generation of films is worth spoiling the original story.
In any event, if you haven't seen Captain Marvel, it's likely you can safely pass on it. Other than her existence and her being very powerful, there is little in the movie that will have direct bearing on Endgame.
[Books] Book Look: Killing Commendatore, by Haruki Murakami
This one is both sprawling and intimate. It is Haruki as we know him: telling human stories through magic realism; the typical mix of spiritual conflict, eerie fantasy, and pop culture references.
Our protagonist is an artist, a painter who has made the compromise of spending his time painting portraits to support himself, suffers a fairly traumatic divorce. Lost in a fugue state, he spends an extended period driving about northern Japan with no destination in mind. In time he settles into a home belonging to a legendary elder painter who is no longer resident, being in the throes of dementia at the end of his life.
That's when the real weirdness begins. We encounter an cursed hidden pit, a rich and noble, but suspicious, neighbor, an undiscovered masterpiece, a mystery from the time of Anschluss, a precocious little girl, a two-foot tall manifestation of an idea, and more, not in that order.
Killing Commendatore is about believing in the face of unknowing. All the characters conflicts stem from not having a full understanding of things and, for that matter, the impossibility of having a full understanding of things. In the end, our protagonist comes to the conclusion that belief in the face of uncertainty is the blessing that gets you through. If you can't ever know the objective truth, belief it the thing that saves you.
Whatever twists and turns along the way -- and they are often entertaining -- Haruki is very good at directing his characters to the conclusion. It's also interesting to note that Haruki is nearly 70 years old, so it is a theme very fitting a man who has spent a life considering the nature of the world.
In reading, it is a mixed bag. Haruki is strong on visual description which makes the story quite vivid, but along with that is a nearly Russian level of scene description which can get tiring. The characters are given to self-exposition which can seem awkward, however the key ideas are well dramatised. The structure is odd in that important characters don't get mentioned or make an appearance until midway or later, but it is not jarring.
And, as I have mentioned, the humanity is there, which is really the most important thing. Should you read Killing Commendatore? If you enjoy Haruki then yes. It is another fine entry in a long and Noble-worthy career; you'll feel right at home. It is probably not as good for your first Haruki as its length and detail are a bit intimidating -- for that I would go all the way back to something like Norwegian Wood for something less fanciful (interestingly, it also features a protagonist who wandered about in a daze for an extended time) and move into the more fantastic stuff from there.
Our protagonist is an artist, a painter who has made the compromise of spending his time painting portraits to support himself, suffers a fairly traumatic divorce. Lost in a fugue state, he spends an extended period driving about northern Japan with no destination in mind. In time he settles into a home belonging to a legendary elder painter who is no longer resident, being in the throes of dementia at the end of his life.
That's when the real weirdness begins. We encounter an cursed hidden pit, a rich and noble, but suspicious, neighbor, an undiscovered masterpiece, a mystery from the time of Anschluss, a precocious little girl, a two-foot tall manifestation of an idea, and more, not in that order.
Killing Commendatore is about believing in the face of unknowing. All the characters conflicts stem from not having a full understanding of things and, for that matter, the impossibility of having a full understanding of things. In the end, our protagonist comes to the conclusion that belief in the face of uncertainty is the blessing that gets you through. If you can't ever know the objective truth, belief it the thing that saves you.
Whatever twists and turns along the way -- and they are often entertaining -- Haruki is very good at directing his characters to the conclusion. It's also interesting to note that Haruki is nearly 70 years old, so it is a theme very fitting a man who has spent a life considering the nature of the world.
In reading, it is a mixed bag. Haruki is strong on visual description which makes the story quite vivid, but along with that is a nearly Russian level of scene description which can get tiring. The characters are given to self-exposition which can seem awkward, however the key ideas are well dramatised. The structure is odd in that important characters don't get mentioned or make an appearance until midway or later, but it is not jarring.
And, as I have mentioned, the humanity is there, which is really the most important thing. Should you read Killing Commendatore? If you enjoy Haruki then yes. It is another fine entry in a long and Noble-worthy career; you'll feel right at home. It is probably not as good for your first Haruki as its length and detail are a bit intimidating -- for that I would go all the way back to something like Norwegian Wood for something less fanciful (interestingly, it also features a protagonist who wandered about in a daze for an extended time) and move into the more fantastic stuff from there.
Wednesday, March 06, 2019
The Month That Was - February 2019
It's time for cabin fever. This is the point where everyone who says they love the change of seasons starts wishing the next change would hurry up.
I fought a lot with tires this month. I developed a slow leak in one and a had a major blowout in another (in the middle of a blizzard). Annoyances. They were repaired relatively quickly, but I am grateful that I can change a tire (which I am told is no longer a assumed skill), and grateful that my car has at least a temporary spare as opposed to a patch kit that is now all too common.
It's also tax time. Ugh. The cold, the annoyance, the drudgery. Escape opportunities are minimal. It all adds up to making me restless. But the tax refund should help fund a nice trip.
[Tech, Rant] The World Observes What Follows On
[TV] True Detective, True Again
[House and Home] Under Vacuum
I fought a lot with tires this month. I developed a slow leak in one and a had a major blowout in another (in the middle of a blizzard). Annoyances. They were repaired relatively quickly, but I am grateful that I can change a tire (which I am told is no longer a assumed skill), and grateful that my car has at least a temporary spare as opposed to a patch kit that is now all too common.
It's also tax time. Ugh. The cold, the annoyance, the drudgery. Escape opportunities are minimal. It all adds up to making me restless. But the tax refund should help fund a nice trip.
[Tech, Rant] The World Observes What Follows On
[TV] True Detective, True Again
[House and Home] Under Vacuum
[Tech, Rant] The World Observes What Follows On
An old dog trying to learn new tricks. That's my life these days. This is especially true in technology. I see it all the time in my day job where I manage teams of software developers. I haven't written a line of code in decades but at least I understand what goes on conceptually in programming and other technology. It is orders of magnitude more complicated than it used to be for a number of reasons, including security, interoperability, and just outright scale. Because of the complexity there is much more specialization today -- no more sitting in your home office and creating a word processor from scratch. You can be back-end (database), you can be front-end (web, generally), you can be a security specialist, etc. It's dizzying the number of processes and concepts that must affect your work, but I maintain the not so unreasonable delusion that were I deep in the details of a given specialty everyday, I could keep up just fine. And if something is explained conceptually to me, I can grasp it.
But there are hints and allegations that I may have reached a limit. Lately I have been trying to understand blockchain and not doing very well. I have a decent understanding of bitcoin, the crypto-currency for which blockchain was invented (I think). I understand public and private keys, I understand what bitcoin mining is, I kind of understand how validation works, I even sort of understand how a blockchain is built out of a complete history of transactions that cannot be altered. What I don't understand is what value it offers in any sort of activity that isn't completely digital. I also don't understand the value it provides over current systems of enforcing contracts beyond decentralization which, it seems to me, is of questionable value in legit circles.
Now: anyone who happens to stumble across this who is well-versed in blockchain is probably either laughing or gritting their teeth, and I don't doubt that had I a good understanding of things the answers to these concerns might be clear. Despite all my investigation so far, I haven't found the knowledge I'm looking for.
Explainers tend to fall into two camps. One, they are superficial and get all hand-wavy about things like they are talking to grandma about the tubes of the internet. Or two, they delve into the topic but throw vocabulary and concepts at you without explanation. I remain convinced that if I just found a well written source I would have no trouble with this. I would be able to get it.
Ah, but there's the rub. Would I, or have I hit the limit? Is the problem with the literature or with my old dog brain finally rubbing up against something it cannot grasp? For those of you wondering what it is like as you reach the upper limits of middle age -- this is what it's like. At every point of confusion the question of whether the world has finally moved beyond you is like a low-level hum in the background.
I think the situation is that I have a vague mechanical understanding of blockchain and I haven't yet made the intuitive leap to how it can be broadly applied in such a way that it allows functionality that our current systems don't (or that is very expensive in our current systems). And I think if I keep looking into it, I'll stumble into something that crystallizes it for me. So, no, I do not think I have hit my limit.
But then, who does? A crotchety old dude who can't remember his address and goes around bitching about how Bill Clinton is ruining the country still believes he is sharp as a tack. The blue hair in the cataract glasses with the glacial reaction time is convinced she's a safe driver. I delude myself that I still have a 34-inch waist and I could run 5k under 25 minutes. I have an image of myself as alert, fit, and competent, but everyone around me could be thinking, "Poor guy, he's losing it."
Still, what else is there to do? Writing yourself off from possibilities and growth is just the self-fulfillment of failure. It's the final reconciliation with the inevitable, there-by encouraging it. I may not live forever, but I must behave as if I will. It's my only hope.
Addendum: On the other hand, in the last year there has been considerable progress in developing a vaccine for Alzheimer's and an outright cure for cancer. Maybe I will live forever after all. This has to be terrible news for Millennials who may end up with Boomers like me leaching Social Security from their paychecks and telling them how they ruined music for decades to come.
More addendum: Speaking of not keeping up... There is an app called TikTok using which you can record video of yourself lip synching to songs and share them with friends. It has been downloaded 1 billion times. I had never heard of it. Sigh.
But there are hints and allegations that I may have reached a limit. Lately I have been trying to understand blockchain and not doing very well. I have a decent understanding of bitcoin, the crypto-currency for which blockchain was invented (I think). I understand public and private keys, I understand what bitcoin mining is, I kind of understand how validation works, I even sort of understand how a blockchain is built out of a complete history of transactions that cannot be altered. What I don't understand is what value it offers in any sort of activity that isn't completely digital. I also don't understand the value it provides over current systems of enforcing contracts beyond decentralization which, it seems to me, is of questionable value in legit circles.
Now: anyone who happens to stumble across this who is well-versed in blockchain is probably either laughing or gritting their teeth, and I don't doubt that had I a good understanding of things the answers to these concerns might be clear. Despite all my investigation so far, I haven't found the knowledge I'm looking for.
Explainers tend to fall into two camps. One, they are superficial and get all hand-wavy about things like they are talking to grandma about the tubes of the internet. Or two, they delve into the topic but throw vocabulary and concepts at you without explanation. I remain convinced that if I just found a well written source I would have no trouble with this. I would be able to get it.
Ah, but there's the rub. Would I, or have I hit the limit? Is the problem with the literature or with my old dog brain finally rubbing up against something it cannot grasp? For those of you wondering what it is like as you reach the upper limits of middle age -- this is what it's like. At every point of confusion the question of whether the world has finally moved beyond you is like a low-level hum in the background.
I think the situation is that I have a vague mechanical understanding of blockchain and I haven't yet made the intuitive leap to how it can be broadly applied in such a way that it allows functionality that our current systems don't (or that is very expensive in our current systems). And I think if I keep looking into it, I'll stumble into something that crystallizes it for me. So, no, I do not think I have hit my limit.
But then, who does? A crotchety old dude who can't remember his address and goes around bitching about how Bill Clinton is ruining the country still believes he is sharp as a tack. The blue hair in the cataract glasses with the glacial reaction time is convinced she's a safe driver. I delude myself that I still have a 34-inch waist and I could run 5k under 25 minutes. I have an image of myself as alert, fit, and competent, but everyone around me could be thinking, "Poor guy, he's losing it."
Still, what else is there to do? Writing yourself off from possibilities and growth is just the self-fulfillment of failure. It's the final reconciliation with the inevitable, there-by encouraging it. I may not live forever, but I must behave as if I will. It's my only hope.
Addendum: On the other hand, in the last year there has been considerable progress in developing a vaccine for Alzheimer's and an outright cure for cancer. Maybe I will live forever after all. This has to be terrible news for Millennials who may end up with Boomers like me leaching Social Security from their paychecks and telling them how they ruined music for decades to come.
More addendum: Speaking of not keeping up... There is an app called TikTok using which you can record video of yourself lip synching to songs and share them with friends. It has been downloaded 1 billion times. I had never heard of it. Sigh.
[TV] True Detective, True Again
I guess the light is still winning. The third season of True Detective was a winner, putting the lingering disappointment of season two behind it. At the outset it looked like it may just be a rehash of season one: Two hard and jaded cops driving around trying to solve a case of crimes against children, told via copious flashbacks, with a metaphysical angle lurking around every corner.
If anything, this season was cleaner and better scripted than even the ground-breaking first. In the first season the case played into the Detective Rust Cohle's personal demons, this season the case disrupted Detective Wayne "Purple" Hays' relationships, especially with his family, which brought an added dimension. And instead of Rust Cohle pontificating about metaphysics to Woody Harrelson's chagrin, this time the metaphysical aspect is dramatized mostly through the device of centering on Wayne Hays towards the end of his life and in the early stages of dementia; beating forward into the past, but unsure of the reality of that past. Dramatization over exposition for the win.
The conflicts build not just among the characters but among the point of view of the characters at the three points in their lives we are tracking. The detectives worked hard, caused great pain and suffering in the course of their investigation, and truly believed it had to be done, but was it their own incompetence that caused their failure? They feel they caved to bureaucratic pressure or personal pressure, but was it their own weakness that stopped them?
Cleverly the case provides the direct connection between Detective Hays and his wife, since she is writing a true crime book about it. It is the thing that brought them together and the thing the separates them. It is so interwoven with their lives that when they need to let it go, they risk letting their marriage go. Their interplay slows things down at times, but it is essential.
As one often does, one has to overlook the shortcuts in character and minor implausibilities -- that's just a fact of TV drama. But there are really very few weaknesses.
The finale is a stunner. Even within the span of the final hour, as the aged detectives saddle up one last time in a bid for closure, the layers of the onion are still deep. At first it appears that the case resolved in tragedy, but at least, at the end, there was some form of justice for the final living perpetrator. But wait! A last second clue emerges and Detective Hays is on the case again. It seems there was a happy ending after all and the Detective comes so very close to seeing it and finding some peace, but so much lifetime has passed ("Time is the school in which we learn; Time is the fire in which we burn") that dementia intervenes before he sees it. So in the end we know the ending was happy, but must cry for the detectives, who will continue to suffer. Is that also justice for their committed sins?
And then, yet again, we are offered a tiny glimmer of hope the the happy ending may yet be discovered. As a fact of metaphysics, there is no close to the story -- the end is not the point. At the last, we are flashbacked once more to Detective Hays, attempting to reconcile with his eventual wife who offers him a do-over. A do-over is still what he needs. Maybe he'll get it. After all, time is flat circle.
If anything, this season was cleaner and better scripted than even the ground-breaking first. In the first season the case played into the Detective Rust Cohle's personal demons, this season the case disrupted Detective Wayne "Purple" Hays' relationships, especially with his family, which brought an added dimension. And instead of Rust Cohle pontificating about metaphysics to Woody Harrelson's chagrin, this time the metaphysical aspect is dramatized mostly through the device of centering on Wayne Hays towards the end of his life and in the early stages of dementia; beating forward into the past, but unsure of the reality of that past. Dramatization over exposition for the win.
The conflicts build not just among the characters but among the point of view of the characters at the three points in their lives we are tracking. The detectives worked hard, caused great pain and suffering in the course of their investigation, and truly believed it had to be done, but was it their own incompetence that caused their failure? They feel they caved to bureaucratic pressure or personal pressure, but was it their own weakness that stopped them?
Cleverly the case provides the direct connection between Detective Hays and his wife, since she is writing a true crime book about it. It is the thing that brought them together and the thing the separates them. It is so interwoven with their lives that when they need to let it go, they risk letting their marriage go. Their interplay slows things down at times, but it is essential.
As one often does, one has to overlook the shortcuts in character and minor implausibilities -- that's just a fact of TV drama. But there are really very few weaknesses.
The finale is a stunner. Even within the span of the final hour, as the aged detectives saddle up one last time in a bid for closure, the layers of the onion are still deep. At first it appears that the case resolved in tragedy, but at least, at the end, there was some form of justice for the final living perpetrator. But wait! A last second clue emerges and Detective Hays is on the case again. It seems there was a happy ending after all and the Detective comes so very close to seeing it and finding some peace, but so much lifetime has passed ("Time is the school in which we learn; Time is the fire in which we burn") that dementia intervenes before he sees it. So in the end we know the ending was happy, but must cry for the detectives, who will continue to suffer. Is that also justice for their committed sins?
And then, yet again, we are offered a tiny glimmer of hope the the happy ending may yet be discovered. As a fact of metaphysics, there is no close to the story -- the end is not the point. At the last, we are flashbacked once more to Detective Hays, attempting to reconcile with his eventual wife who offers him a do-over. A do-over is still what he needs. Maybe he'll get it. After all, time is flat circle.
[House and Home] Under Vacuum
I've taken to cooking Sous Vide. I sprung for a rather nifty device from Anova that attached to the side of a deep pot and circulates water at a a set temperature. What this allows is to place food, usually meats, in a plastic freezer bag, seal the bag watertight (a ziploc is fine), then immerse it into the circulating water. There water gently raises the temperature to the desired level and keeps it there, without the risk of overcooking. For example, if you want to cook a steak medium rare, set the temp to 135, bag your steak and drop it in. Leave it an hour. Leave it an hour and a half. Doesn't matter: it won't go past medium rare. When you're ready to eat, pull it out and drop it in a hot skillet for a minute-ish on each side to brown it. Boom! A perfect steak. You can use similar procedures for burgers, sausages, pork, and chicken. Vegetables work less well on the whole, although denser ones such as carrots or potatoes can work.
For a kitchen idiot like me it's been a revelation. I can cook all kinds of stuff -- healthy stuff. My fave is a skinless, boneless chicken breast -- leave it for an hour in a mixture of honey and saltwater brine, sous vide for an hour, and you'll have the juiciest, tastiest chicken you've ever eaten -- no need for even a sear. Add in some frozen veggies from the microwave and it beats a Subway or Taco Bell any day.
I know serious chefs are laughing right now because I gather they think sous vide doesn't count as proper cooking, but I'm actually regularly buying food and cooking which used to be a once-in-a-blue-moon activity for me. I may make an adult of me yet.
For a kitchen idiot like me it's been a revelation. I can cook all kinds of stuff -- healthy stuff. My fave is a skinless, boneless chicken breast -- leave it for an hour in a mixture of honey and saltwater brine, sous vide for an hour, and you'll have the juiciest, tastiest chicken you've ever eaten -- no need for even a sear. Add in some frozen veggies from the microwave and it beats a Subway or Taco Bell any day.
I know serious chefs are laughing right now because I gather they think sous vide doesn't count as proper cooking, but I'm actually regularly buying food and cooking which used to be a once-in-a-blue-moon activity for me. I may make an adult of me yet.
Wednesday, February 06, 2019
The Month That Was - January 2019
Once again, I have no New Year's resolutions to break, just my ongoing strategic goals:
[Books] Book Look: Paris in the Present Tense
[Travel] Down on the Bayou
[Rant] Nothing New
- Enhance the lives of the people I care about whenever possible.
- Fight sloth (the Deadly Sin, not the adorable forest creature).
[Books] Book Look: Paris in the Present Tense
[Travel] Down on the Bayou
[Rant] Nothing New
[Books] Book Look: Paris in the Present Tense, by Mark Helprin
At the risk of giving away the conclusion, I was disappointed with this book. Helprin is an author I admire greatly, he can form a sentence like few others and his skill at allegory and parable are second to none, but this one left me feeling unsatisfied.
This is the story of an old man, a 70-something French Jew, a survivor of the Holocaust as a child, who has devoted his life to art, specifically composing music. He has many regrets, not the least of which is that by pursuing his artistic dreams he has sacrificed any sort of financial well-being -- a thing that would be useful now that his grandchild has been given a cancer diagnosis. What follows is a string of deeply implausible incidents, including a 70-something man defeating three armed and violent young men in a street fight, killing two of them with his bare hands.
In the course of trying to set things right at the end our hero encounters lots of cliches. Eccentric egomaniacal corporate leaders and their stooges, pusillanimous and conniving intellectuals, ethnically appropriate buddy cops, a bullied and hapless loser, and assorted others of two-dimensions.
As a picture of old age, it only partially succeeds. To our aging hero, the underlying terror of old age is the world moving away from him. Technological advances coarsen the world (in his view), his job in academia is withering on the vine as he is slowly being phased out, worst of all the anti-semitism that so informed his childhood is resurging.
While all these things are true, they are superficial (except of course the anti-semitism). The real terror of aging is the irreversible decay of you body and skills and underlying fear of dementia or otherwise becoming totally dependent. No such fears affect our fit-as-a-30-year-old aging hero.
While our hero is nicely drawn and coherent. His need to fix things, to make things right, in view of what he sees as the costly decisions he may have made early in life is sharp and believable. The fact that his feelings and behavior toward women didn't change over the course of his life -- the child being father of the man -- also rings true. But it's not enough to overcome the dominant sense of implausibility.
Should you read Paris in the Present Tense? Nah. You could do worse, but you could also do better, including most of Helprin's other writings.
This is the story of an old man, a 70-something French Jew, a survivor of the Holocaust as a child, who has devoted his life to art, specifically composing music. He has many regrets, not the least of which is that by pursuing his artistic dreams he has sacrificed any sort of financial well-being -- a thing that would be useful now that his grandchild has been given a cancer diagnosis. What follows is a string of deeply implausible incidents, including a 70-something man defeating three armed and violent young men in a street fight, killing two of them with his bare hands.
In the course of trying to set things right at the end our hero encounters lots of cliches. Eccentric egomaniacal corporate leaders and their stooges, pusillanimous and conniving intellectuals, ethnically appropriate buddy cops, a bullied and hapless loser, and assorted others of two-dimensions.
As a picture of old age, it only partially succeeds. To our aging hero, the underlying terror of old age is the world moving away from him. Technological advances coarsen the world (in his view), his job in academia is withering on the vine as he is slowly being phased out, worst of all the anti-semitism that so informed his childhood is resurging.
While all these things are true, they are superficial (except of course the anti-semitism). The real terror of aging is the irreversible decay of you body and skills and underlying fear of dementia or otherwise becoming totally dependent. No such fears affect our fit-as-a-30-year-old aging hero.
While our hero is nicely drawn and coherent. His need to fix things, to make things right, in view of what he sees as the costly decisions he may have made early in life is sharp and believable. The fact that his feelings and behavior toward women didn't change over the course of his life -- the child being father of the man -- also rings true. But it's not enough to overcome the dominant sense of implausibility.
Should you read Paris in the Present Tense? Nah. You could do worse, but you could also do better, including most of Helprin's other writings.
[Travel] Down on the Bayou
An all too short trip -- a couple of days barreling around the bayou area of western Louisiana, along I-10 between Lake Charles and Baton Rouge. It's an area of fascinating contrasts. Like everywhere else it is gentrifying, albeit perhaps a bit more slowly than most, but the old school bayou is still on display everywhere. I-10 itself straight-lines through some picturesque, even eerie, swamp scenes. The little towns along the way still look like support villages for agriculture or fishing or perhaps settlements of refinery workers.
And refineries -- the area primary industry -- are in evidence everywhere. Huge, complexes of gnarled metal and worn buildings and billowing smoke. Looking like a environmentalist's dystopian trope made real. They make a stark contrast to the lush greenery from which they spring.
Around the larger cities -- Lake Charles, Lafayette, or Baton Rouge -- is where you find the gentrification and homogeneity. Also, to no small extent, some solid tourist infrastructure. Although "tourist" in this case mostly means servicing folks from Houston. I-10 is the route between Houston and New Orleans. Since this area isn't a major national destination, the bulk of the tourists are daytrippers or weekenders from Houston. Folks from the booming Houston-Austin-San Antonio triangle have disposable income to spare.
So folks come by to fish the lakes and rivers, view wildlife, and gamble. Especially gamble. Lake Charles has multiple casinos the nicest of which is the Golden Nugget, which would not be out of place in Vegas. Neither would the table minimums. Weekend nights you won't find a minimum less than $25 which is comparable to the Vegas Strip. I'm sure the less glitzy casinos in the area are cheaper.
The Nugget also has the best restaurant selection in the area, although they are all upscale regional chains, nothing unique. They are still very good; I can recommend Vic and Anthony's Steakhouse and the Grotto for traditional Italian. I would not have known they were chains had I not been told since they don't exist in Michigan.
Another thing folks come down here for is genuine Cajun food. The area is peppered with the sort of dumpy food shacks that appeal to the contemporary lust for authenticity. You can tell from the warm swamp-friendly drawls of the denizens that, gentrified or not, it's still bayou. Outside you are likely to see a pack of road-worn pickups parked next the shiny Jaguar of an upper-middle-class foodie.
Sadly there was little luck to be had in that area, what with travelling on a holiday weekend. In the boonies, there is still respect for the sabbath to some extent. An attempt to get a po' boy at a highly recommended shack failed when it turned out they only serve pre-packaged BBQ on Sunday. On Monday (the Holiday) there was another scramble to find a traditional po' boy that ended with another false start and an unfortunate experience with service. (The names of these places are withheld to protect the innocent from the wrath of my multitude of fervent followers.) I would not mind giving a food adventure here another try though.
The single act of sightseeing involved a visit to Avery Island, the home of Tabasco Sauce. It's sounds silly, but it's actually a pretty cool place. You can do a brief self-tour of the Tabasco factory and learn the history of Tabasco (it's actually kinda interesting), but the real treat is the Jungle Gardens, 170-acre wildlife sanctuary.
Even in the middle of winter (it was in the fifties) it was quite lovely. It's easy to imagine how lush it would be in Spring. I assume the place would be full of cranes and various water-borne life. Huge flocks of hawks were gathering in the trees -- I had never seen hawks flock like starlings; I always assumed they were solitary or paired, but this was a hawk jamboree. There are thickly wooded pathways, a bamboo jungle, picturesque stone bridges, and, somewhat unexpectedly, a shrine to the Buddha. Very cool place; wish I had brought my DSLR instead of just my phone. In a distant way it reminds me of the Ringling Museum in Sarasota, or even San Simeon: a very wealthy man, or in this case family -- the McIlhennys, founders of Tabasco -- has a great financial success and devotes a good portion of their wealth to creating a space of great beauty, then sharing with the world. Were I ever to be worth a bajillion dollars I would hope to do the same.
I like the Bayou. Despite facing same sorts of upheavals the rest of the country is facing, it still has unique character, and that's not something many places can say in the face of the era of homogenization. Even in the middle of the flashy Golden Nugget, you would never mistake the natives for hipsters. That said, I'm not sure I would go out of my way to go back. It was cool and fun, but so are many places and travel time is dear. On the other hand, if I lived in Houston or even as far as Austin or San Antonio, I probably be weekending here three or four times a year at least.
They had better hope Texas never legalizes gambling. The blow to the bayou would be ruinous.
And refineries -- the area primary industry -- are in evidence everywhere. Huge, complexes of gnarled metal and worn buildings and billowing smoke. Looking like a environmentalist's dystopian trope made real. They make a stark contrast to the lush greenery from which they spring.
Around the larger cities -- Lake Charles, Lafayette, or Baton Rouge -- is where you find the gentrification and homogeneity. Also, to no small extent, some solid tourist infrastructure. Although "tourist" in this case mostly means servicing folks from Houston. I-10 is the route between Houston and New Orleans. Since this area isn't a major national destination, the bulk of the tourists are daytrippers or weekenders from Houston. Folks from the booming Houston-Austin-San Antonio triangle have disposable income to spare.
So folks come by to fish the lakes and rivers, view wildlife, and gamble. Especially gamble. Lake Charles has multiple casinos the nicest of which is the Golden Nugget, which would not be out of place in Vegas. Neither would the table minimums. Weekend nights you won't find a minimum less than $25 which is comparable to the Vegas Strip. I'm sure the less glitzy casinos in the area are cheaper.
The Nugget also has the best restaurant selection in the area, although they are all upscale regional chains, nothing unique. They are still very good; I can recommend Vic and Anthony's Steakhouse and the Grotto for traditional Italian. I would not have known they were chains had I not been told since they don't exist in Michigan.
Another thing folks come down here for is genuine Cajun food. The area is peppered with the sort of dumpy food shacks that appeal to the contemporary lust for authenticity. You can tell from the warm swamp-friendly drawls of the denizens that, gentrified or not, it's still bayou. Outside you are likely to see a pack of road-worn pickups parked next the shiny Jaguar of an upper-middle-class foodie.
Sadly there was little luck to be had in that area, what with travelling on a holiday weekend. In the boonies, there is still respect for the sabbath to some extent. An attempt to get a po' boy at a highly recommended shack failed when it turned out they only serve pre-packaged BBQ on Sunday. On Monday (the Holiday) there was another scramble to find a traditional po' boy that ended with another false start and an unfortunate experience with service. (The names of these places are withheld to protect the innocent from the wrath of my multitude of fervent followers.) I would not mind giving a food adventure here another try though.
The single act of sightseeing involved a visit to Avery Island, the home of Tabasco Sauce. It's sounds silly, but it's actually a pretty cool place. You can do a brief self-tour of the Tabasco factory and learn the history of Tabasco (it's actually kinda interesting), but the real treat is the Jungle Gardens, 170-acre wildlife sanctuary.
Even in the middle of winter (it was in the fifties) it was quite lovely. It's easy to imagine how lush it would be in Spring. I assume the place would be full of cranes and various water-borne life. Huge flocks of hawks were gathering in the trees -- I had never seen hawks flock like starlings; I always assumed they were solitary or paired, but this was a hawk jamboree. There are thickly wooded pathways, a bamboo jungle, picturesque stone bridges, and, somewhat unexpectedly, a shrine to the Buddha. Very cool place; wish I had brought my DSLR instead of just my phone. In a distant way it reminds me of the Ringling Museum in Sarasota, or even San Simeon: a very wealthy man, or in this case family -- the McIlhennys, founders of Tabasco -- has a great financial success and devotes a good portion of their wealth to creating a space of great beauty, then sharing with the world. Were I ever to be worth a bajillion dollars I would hope to do the same.
I like the Bayou. Despite facing same sorts of upheavals the rest of the country is facing, it still has unique character, and that's not something many places can say in the face of the era of homogenization. Even in the middle of the flashy Golden Nugget, you would never mistake the natives for hipsters. That said, I'm not sure I would go out of my way to go back. It was cool and fun, but so are many places and travel time is dear. On the other hand, if I lived in Houston or even as far as Austin or San Antonio, I probably be weekending here three or four times a year at least.
They had better hope Texas never legalizes gambling. The blow to the bayou would be ruinous.
[Rant] Nothing New
Media navel-gazing has been ratcheted up in the past couple of weeks, what with facebook violating privacy and scamming kids, and social media in general screwing up your head. It's sleazy cousin, clickbait, turns out to be equally distasteful, but it's the only way media companies can stay in business, unless of course you're the biggest clickbait producer in the world, in which case you are desperately dumping payroll. Whee.
All this reminds me of how old I am because I can't see it as anything new or worth getting exorcised about. The effect of media ubiquity on our lives was foreseen many years ago, it's just amplified. Here is Marshall McLuhan from The Media is the Message in 1967:
Want some more? This is Stefan Zweig from The World of Yesterday in 1938:
So maybe take ten- to twenty-percent off over there Squirrely Dan. (Apologies for the Letterkenny quote, ya pheasants.) All that stuff you see that's going to destroy the world, isn't. Trust me. It's nothing new. Nothing is new.
All this reminds me of how old I am because I can't see it as anything new or worth getting exorcised about. The effect of media ubiquity on our lives was foreseen many years ago, it's just amplified. Here is Marshall McLuhan from The Media is the Message in 1967:
In the past, the effects of media were experienced more gradually, allowing the individual and society to cushion their impact to some degree. Today, in the electronic age of instantaneous communication, I believe that our survival, and at very least our comfort and happiness,is predicated on understanding the nature of our new environment, because unlike previous environmental changes, the electric media constitute a total and near-instantaneous transformation of culture, values, and attitudes. This upheaval generates great pain and identity loss, which can be ameliorated only through a conscious awareness of its dynamics. If...we continue in our subliminal trance, we will be their slaves.That's 1967 kiddies. We had three TV channels, FM radio (just barely), and dialing a phone meant dialing.
Want some more? This is Stefan Zweig from The World of Yesterday in 1938:
But travelling, even as far as to other worlds under other stars did not allow me to escape Europe and my anxieties. It seems almost like Nature's fierce revenge on mankind that the achievements of technology through which we have taken her mysterious forces into our own hands simultaneously destroy the soul. The greatest curse brought down on us by technology is that it prevents us from escaping the present even for a brief time. Previous generations could retreat into solitude and seclusion when disaster struck; it was our fate to be aware of everything catastrophic happening anywhere in the world at the hour and second when it happened.1938. For 80 years this transformation has been going on. Did it accelerate with the Internet? OK maybe, but media ubiquity has been going to destroy our souls for almost a century now. Multiple generations have lived and died with their souls destroyed by the media. Yet here we are, doing pretty well, making progress in the crazy, haphazard, 10-steps-forward-9-steps-back way of humanity.
So maybe take ten- to twenty-percent off over there Squirrely Dan. (Apologies for the Letterkenny quote, ya pheasants.) All that stuff you see that's going to destroy the world, isn't. Trust me. It's nothing new. Nothing is new.
Monday, January 07, 2019
The Month That Was - December 2018
It was another year. Suppose I should reflect on what I did and didn't do, but I'm not going to. The year was like most other years. I wrote a bit, but not enough to feel like I accomplished much. I traveled a bit, but nowhere new and not enough to feel like I accomplished much. I did my usual fitness activities to fend off aging, but made no achievements that make me feel like I accomplished much.
Yet, I did OK. I caused no real harm that I can see. I was as good a friend as I can be to the people I care about. I put a good amount of thought and effort into most everything I did both professionally and personally. And while I feel light on actual accomplishments, the value of any stretch of a human life really needs a few years of retrospection to evaluate.
So, yes, there have been 58 years in my life. 2018 was one of them. There will be more.
[Science] Blinded Science
[TV] Letterkenny, eh?
[Movies] Flick Check: The Death of Stalin
[Tech, Rant] Criminal Mind, Digital Edition
Yet, I did OK. I caused no real harm that I can see. I was as good a friend as I can be to the people I care about. I put a good amount of thought and effort into most everything I did both professionally and personally. And while I feel light on actual accomplishments, the value of any stretch of a human life really needs a few years of retrospection to evaluate.
So, yes, there have been 58 years in my life. 2018 was one of them. There will be more.
[Science] Blinded Science
[TV] Letterkenny, eh?
[Movies] Flick Check: The Death of Stalin
[Tech, Rant] Criminal Mind, Digital Edition
[Science] Blinded Science
Science, or more specifically, the Scientific Method, is probably the major contribution of Western culture to civilization. Many cultures have beautiful art and architecture. Many cultures have profound philosophies, both moral and metaphysical. But it was in the West that the scientific method was founded and flourished. To me that makes it sad that the public face of science has fallen into such ill repute. In short, science is a mess right now.
By now you have probably heard of the "replication crisis". Thousands of previously accepted scientific papers have been shown to be simply wrong. Many were just badly designed experiments that just didn't show what they purported to show. As far as I know, no one has done a study investigating whether these papers happened to come to conclusions that supported the opinions of the scientists involved, but it's a fair bet they did. Some have erroneously become conventional wisdom, and since they are almost entirely in the realm of social science, policies with consequences have been adopted under those mistaken beliefs. All this has given fuel to the critics who claim the soft sciences (social sciences) aren't really sciences at all. Whether they are or not, they are certainly not acting like it.
The hardest of the soft sciences -- psychology and economics -- are doing a bit better. There is fascinating work being done in the realm of evolutionary psychology although not much of it seems very rigorous so far. At least it's promising. Economics is struggling to come to terms with its limitations -- party due to all the work the evo-psych people are doing to undermine the assumptions of broad-based rationality in humans. Econometrics can't come to any agreed upon conclusions. You can find a legitimate quantitative studies that end in opposite results. So anything can be good or bad, depending on what you just read.
As we move along the "scientific hardness" spectrum we come to environmental science next, which is wholly dominated by global warming. (Tangent: Scott Alexander considers some of the environmental hot buttons from the past and what happened to them.) Without commenting on my opinion of it, the way high-profile advocates for global warming behave is shameful. They sell their theories like snake oil salesmen, appealing to fear and ignorance while using public ridicule to silence anyone who might question them, then claim scientific righteousness. I have come to the conclusion that the bulk of the people advocating for global warming don't really want to convince anyone of it. They want to raise their own status via demonstrating their superior intellect and rationality and, frankly, if everybody agreed with them, they couldn't do that.
The next step along the way is the biological sciences where, specifically with respect to genetics and microbiology, there are tremendous successes in research. Practical applications get bogged down in ethical issues and political bureaucracy, but at least the science is clipping along. One bright spot.
The harder the science, the less susceptible it is to these machinations of the human ego. Physics of course, is almost immune to twisting facts for a dopamine hit, but it's not immune to human flaws and limitations. Physics is in the doldrums. We can't reconcile the Quantum Mechanics with Relativity after nearly a century; the large and the small don't seem to agree on the nature of the universe. The Large Hadron Collider provided proof of the Higgs Boson, but nothing else interesting. It has been thus for nearly a century now and there seems to be little hope of a systematic breakthrough (there always remains the possibility of an random epiphany). Even the more recent discoveries (in my lifetime) of dark matter and dark energy are really just plugs to solve an equation. We have no clue of what they truly are.
A century hence, I can't imagine looking at this era as anything except a dry spell in scientific progress. If it continues, perhaps even a Dark Age. Or maybe it's forever. Maybe the low hanging fruit of the universe has been found and we are now in a time where it's centuries between breakthroughs instead of decades. Of course, that pessimism has been expressed before and has been uniformly mistaken. Still it has to happen eventually, and as we increasingly encounter situations where we can predict outcomes and measure results with great accuracy but can't describe what is going on, that does suggest we might be approaching a barrier which the evolutionary development of our brains hasn't prepared us to cross.
That's not to say any of this is holding up progress. Here is one list of interesting scientific discoveries just this year. With our technology we can measure things more accurately than ever. With our models we can predict the behavior of the world far better than ever, perhaps better than we would ever need to. There is enough science around to keep technological development going indefinitely so there is no need to be pessimistic about the quality of life. Still, it's very unsatisfying if the best we can do is treat existence as a black box.
Perhaps we should focus on how to evolve faster. That may solve the replication problem, too.
By now you have probably heard of the "replication crisis". Thousands of previously accepted scientific papers have been shown to be simply wrong. Many were just badly designed experiments that just didn't show what they purported to show. As far as I know, no one has done a study investigating whether these papers happened to come to conclusions that supported the opinions of the scientists involved, but it's a fair bet they did. Some have erroneously become conventional wisdom, and since they are almost entirely in the realm of social science, policies with consequences have been adopted under those mistaken beliefs. All this has given fuel to the critics who claim the soft sciences (social sciences) aren't really sciences at all. Whether they are or not, they are certainly not acting like it.
The hardest of the soft sciences -- psychology and economics -- are doing a bit better. There is fascinating work being done in the realm of evolutionary psychology although not much of it seems very rigorous so far. At least it's promising. Economics is struggling to come to terms with its limitations -- party due to all the work the evo-psych people are doing to undermine the assumptions of broad-based rationality in humans. Econometrics can't come to any agreed upon conclusions. You can find a legitimate quantitative studies that end in opposite results. So anything can be good or bad, depending on what you just read.
As we move along the "scientific hardness" spectrum we come to environmental science next, which is wholly dominated by global warming. (Tangent: Scott Alexander considers some of the environmental hot buttons from the past and what happened to them.) Without commenting on my opinion of it, the way high-profile advocates for global warming behave is shameful. They sell their theories like snake oil salesmen, appealing to fear and ignorance while using public ridicule to silence anyone who might question them, then claim scientific righteousness. I have come to the conclusion that the bulk of the people advocating for global warming don't really want to convince anyone of it. They want to raise their own status via demonstrating their superior intellect and rationality and, frankly, if everybody agreed with them, they couldn't do that.
The next step along the way is the biological sciences where, specifically with respect to genetics and microbiology, there are tremendous successes in research. Practical applications get bogged down in ethical issues and political bureaucracy, but at least the science is clipping along. One bright spot.
The harder the science, the less susceptible it is to these machinations of the human ego. Physics of course, is almost immune to twisting facts for a dopamine hit, but it's not immune to human flaws and limitations. Physics is in the doldrums. We can't reconcile the Quantum Mechanics with Relativity after nearly a century; the large and the small don't seem to agree on the nature of the universe. The Large Hadron Collider provided proof of the Higgs Boson, but nothing else interesting. It has been thus for nearly a century now and there seems to be little hope of a systematic breakthrough (there always remains the possibility of an random epiphany). Even the more recent discoveries (in my lifetime) of dark matter and dark energy are really just plugs to solve an equation. We have no clue of what they truly are.
A century hence, I can't imagine looking at this era as anything except a dry spell in scientific progress. If it continues, perhaps even a Dark Age. Or maybe it's forever. Maybe the low hanging fruit of the universe has been found and we are now in a time where it's centuries between breakthroughs instead of decades. Of course, that pessimism has been expressed before and has been uniformly mistaken. Still it has to happen eventually, and as we increasingly encounter situations where we can predict outcomes and measure results with great accuracy but can't describe what is going on, that does suggest we might be approaching a barrier which the evolutionary development of our brains hasn't prepared us to cross.
That's not to say any of this is holding up progress. Here is one list of interesting scientific discoveries just this year. With our technology we can measure things more accurately than ever. With our models we can predict the behavior of the world far better than ever, perhaps better than we would ever need to. There is enough science around to keep technological development going indefinitely so there is no need to be pessimistic about the quality of life. Still, it's very unsatisfying if the best we can do is treat existence as a black box.
Perhaps we should focus on how to evolve faster. That may solve the replication problem, too.
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