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Sunday, October 31, 2004 }
Playgroup
20-some smart and interesting people were invited to Vancouver this weekend for a Nokia-sponsored symposium on the subject of Play. Some of the people I met there included Elizabeth Goodman, Pat Kane, Eric Paulos and Jessica Hammer -- and I saw many brilliant people I'd met in the past. Lots of lively discussion, dinners at excellent local restaurants, note taking, games of Set and Werewolf, and trips to Halloween parades added up to a great weekend. Similar to Digifoo, the premise was: invite a bunch of smart people with common interests, set up some tables, give them an opportunity to do presentations if they are so inclined, add some dinner and see what happens. The invitees were nearly half women (9 women and 11 men), something of an achievement in and of itself, if you've been paying attention to who gets invited to these things. And 4 women were invited who couldn't make it, which, had they been able to attend, would have put women in the majority. Imagine that! 26 hours
At age 23, Michel Siffre descended into the underground glacier of Scarasson in the French Alps. His two month experiment, conducted in sub-zero temperatures and 100% humidity, was a landmark on chronobiological research: isolated from any external influence or timepiece, he found upon resurfacing that it was not August 20, as he had calculated, but September 17. Exhaustive replications of thse conditions establish that, left to one's own devices, a human being will derail from the circadian rhythm and adapt to a 26 hour day. Explanations for this anomaly remain speculative.
Similar experiments have been held in the permanent darkness of Greenland's winter and the endless summer dayling of Tromso, Norway. The sleep lab at Stanfor University is temperature-controlled, soundproofed, pitch black with the lights off, and isolated from the earth's magnetic pull. Somewhat less exotic than a glacier, it is decorated like the guest room of a country house, with electrodes kept tastefully in the corner. -- Scott Howard, night in practice Cheeselog
In this article about the difficulty of estimating how many words there are, I find this charming example: The wood louse is known in Britain by many local names—tiggy-hog, cheeselog, pill bug, chiggy pig, and rolypoly among others. Are these all to be counted as separate words?
Good Things
• Hayden is coming to Vancouver tomorrow night, and Underbunny helped me get tickets. • Unable to find cheaper Matcha in Richmond, Asian capital of BC, I went and got some tonight from Infuze Tea House, where Elizabeth and I decided we were going to go off coffee by drinking a lot of Matcha. But at $28 for 30 grams, its akin to giving up coffee for cocaine (but healthier). • One of the many pleasures of having dinner at Kate and Mike's house on Saturday night was meeting Petunia who is one of my favoriter non-dos-pesos dogs. And having strawberry shortcake, which I haven't had for YEARS, made by Evann and Kevin. Structured Procrastination
Maura sent me this amusing piece on Structured Procrastination -- the method of procrastinating by doing other less important tasks instead of what really needs to get done. The writer, a Stanford Professor, claims that you can get a reputation for being an overachiever, all the while neglecting the items at the top of your list, and the trick to success at this game is finding the right tasks to assign importance to. He has some other essays about small discoveries he has made, most likely composed when he's avoiding writing a serious philosophical paper for a respected journal. Blogging is a great thing to do when you are avoiding doing other, more important things. Blood and Will
Why do I love my job (even though it gives me no time to read)? Because i get up in the morning, and have a look around Flickr and find a bunch of bridesmaids in pink dresses doing the Charlie's Angels pose, great groups that people invent, like What's in My Bag, Stormtroopers buying salad and photosets like this one: Ringside. Boxing is one of the most photogenic sports, and I think the reasons are many. To me, it's the purest sport of all -- it's completely unmetaphorical, man against man without all the pomp and circumstance. It's your body and your will against another's. Football, soccer, baseball, tennis -- next to boxing, they look effete and precious. The men who box are fighting for, sometimes literally, their lives. Many of them come from desperately poor backgrounds and the only means available to them to escape poverty, is sports. I don't know where the kids in smith's photo set of boxing photos are from, but it's incredibly powerful to see these young kids taking up the gloves and showing their hearts. Their families stand ringside, holding their trophies, cheering them on. Ringside is great work. (also posted to FlickrBlog) Speed Reading
In the interest of finally finishing a book, I have a new policy of only reading books that have fewer than 100 pages in them. This is surprisingly easy if you read avant garde literature, though the book that inspired this exercise was Death on the Installment Plan by Celine. I am reading Days and Nights by Alfred Jarry, Dr. Marbles and Marianne by Nicki Jackowska and something by Robert Irving (?) -- all of which were selected in a 10 minute period at the public library based on the slimness of their spines. Seriously. There are many criteria for choosing books to read, but at this point in my life, I'm seeking mainly brevity since otherwise, I'll read nothing at all. From the Jarry, some stuff in the Introduction: "Perception is only a hallucination that is true. -- Taine (I think Jarry was referring to the Taine who wrote that history of English Literature)
This reminded me of something I heard on the radio the other day, or perhaps that Stewart was talking about (?) -- that perception or experience is the same thing as memory, but memory that is happening to you immediately. An interesting idea to wrinkle your brain even further. "obseliscolychny" -- a word apparently used by Rabelais to denote a lighthouse. Awkward word, that, and with a Russianish suffix.
In other news, I cleared out approximately 10 million comment spams from my archives. This was both gratifying and horrifying. I had no idea there was such a thing as a grannies-in-pantyhose fetish until I undertook this project. This is one of the bad things about the internet. You think you have some small pocket of innocence left, and then the spammers find some obscure perversion to enlighten you about. And Holy Smokes, pornographers don't know how to spell. They should be ashamed. Orgnet Divid
These are graphs that Tim O'Reilly just put up during his talk on trends in book publishing that analyze the Amazon.com "people who bought this book also bought this book" which basically demonstrates that the books are generally preaching to the converted, that people rarely read outside their political affiliation. i.e. if you are reading Dude, Where is my Country, you're almost certainly not reading The O'Reilly Factor. This is not a good state of affairs. Creating Passionate Users
Kathy Sierra from O'Reilly is presenting on creating passionate users here at Digifoo, and on the whiteboard she listed the following rubrics, under which I've put my notes from her talk: Brain neurobiology There are more demands on our attention now then ever before. Your brain is doing everything it can to stop you from remembering -- that is the main brain activity related to memory. Trick the brain into thinking that something is important. Repetition, rereading fail. But! Novelty, Beauty, Shocking, Surprising, Sexy, Fun, Story. Learning theory Have to get people involved and motivated in order for them to learn. Game design Very successful at keeping people's attention. So much is about getting the challenge right -- the challenge must be meaningful and doable. Challenge-experience-resolution cycle. You have new superpowers after each challenge succeeds. Addiction, seduction, getting to the next level. Advertising Marketing, Positioning Providing meaningful benefits: this product was designed just for you! A good salesperson ask questions first then addresses your hot buttons. Three iterations in from "Why should I care?" Connect xyz to abc. Let them figure this out for themselves as much as possible. Meaningful benefits. Some books: The Culting of Brands, The Substance of Style, Lovemarks: the future beyond branding. Entertainment Paying attention to story. 30-second heros journey in each commercial. Surprising, yet inevitable (filmmakers pay attention to this). People remember the beginning and the endings most...have a lot of little beginnings and endings. The Big Finish. Design Need to hit someone on a visceral level. Getting past the brain's barriers. The thread that runs through all of this is: It's not about you, it's about: how do your users think and feel about themselves after interacting with your product. Metrics of the success of their books on Amazon reviews: use of the word "love", how many exclamation points. Do reviews use their first names and how many times they they talk about themselves positively in the review: I learned it, I rule. Appreciation, the high fidelity experience. Things I've learned at Digifoo
Bravo, Nobel Committee
Elfriede Jelinek, the Austrian writer, was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, an excellent choice! She's barely known here -- her work has long been out of print, and hard to find -- it wasn't even available on ABEbooks or Alibris, but I managed to track it down last year at the Vancouver Public Library -- they had Lust, Wonderful Wonderful Times and The Piano Teacher. Her prose style is distinct: alternately bristly and hymnlike, it's hard to get to the heart of and fully grasp. Her subject matter centers on violence, sexuality, women and a profound disgust with modern society. It is great, fearless, deep and scandalous stuff, and I am very happy she has won this award, not because of the award itself, which has certainly highlighted some also-rans, but because of the wider audience she will now gain. Well done, Nobel Committee. They've posted a biography here. Small Stuff, Don't Sweat the
Naked Airport
The frustration, humiliation and ennui of airports has been much on my mind lately. I've had to spend time in airports 24 times in the past six months, not counting the times I've gone there to pick people up. Everything about airorts is unremittingly horrible: the absurd post-9/11 security measures, the lines, the strained humor of the passengers and agents, the sterile decor, the grey air, the Immigration and Naturalization computer systems that are perpetually going down, the peculiar and vaguely accusatory questions the IN agents ask, the comfortless chairs, the meaningless and nausea-inducing luxury of the Duty Free shopping, the luggage searches... And so, this book caught my eye: Naked Airport: A Cultural History of the World's Most Revolutionary Structure. It's reviewed in Airport Angst (Washington Post, free registration required): Airports have been with us for less than a century, yet in that relatively brief period they have undergone a startling and wholesale metamorphosis. What was once the starting point for journeys that promised romance, excitement and the unknown is now, as Alastair Gordon aptly describes it, a place of "jaded realism, apathy, and paranoia." Paris tells the tale. The Le Bourget, where Charles Lindbergh ended his epic flight in 1927 -- "The grounds were neatly landscaped, with gravel walkways and lines of pollarded trees; it all looked more like a corner of the Tuilleries Gardens than an airport" -- has given way to Charles de Gaulle, a chilly, chaotic, almost unimaginably hideous mausoleum that a friend of mine calls, perhaps flatteringly, a "Third World airport."
Abstruse Theorist Dies in Paris
I was too wrapped up in my own abstruse theories to have heard the news until I saw this headline in Flickr, uploaded by Judith. I have to say I appreciate this quote from the obituary in the Washington Post: "The lack of fixed meaning in a text did not keep Mr. Derrida from publishing hundreds of books." Nob Hill Complains About Noise
The title is a subtle dig that appears in theheadline of a local paper yesterday. There's a hotel strike going on in San Francisco right now, and across the street from the hotel where we're staying for the conference there is a strike at the Hilton. I guess Hotel Nikko doesn't hire unionized workers; most people working here seem to be Japanese. But it's true that the protesters are very loud. They start at 6 AM and continue until Midnight -- which are presumably the legal protest hours. They beat on buckets and chant. This morning it was Ole ole ole ole ole ole... Flickr DNS
www.flickr.com seems to be working again. But just in case it isn't, here's my post from earlier: We've had the most frustrating weekend: Dotster, where flickr.com is registered, has screwed up our DNS, and you can only intermittently get to Flickr.com. DNS is how your browser knows that "www.flickr.com" is meant to go to our servers at, for example http://209.34.233.51 or whatever. Five hours after the problem started Dotster finally acknowledged there was a problem on their site and then they said it was resolved. Needless to say, it was not. Until they fix it, try these instead:
http://www1.flickr.com/
We're in the process of switching domain registrars, obviously, and this will be fixed asap. So frustrating! Che
The first time I heard of Che Guevara was when I saw a huge poster of him on the wall of my friend's dorm room at our posh Connecticut boarding school when I was 15. My friend had grown up in a cavernous Park Avenue apartment, and the Che poster -- as well as his military-chic attire -- were mostly stunts to shock and confuse parents and teachers, as most teenage stunts are. I never knew much about Che, beyond the heroics implied in I am Cuba, but always suspected The Cult of Che was akin to The Manson Family in its belief for belief's sake, paranoia, and lust for blood. Now comes The Motorcycle Diaries, a buddy/road trip movie about Che, and a review in Slate, Don't applaud The Motorcycle Diaries, which confirms what I had suspected. The cult of Ernesto Che Guevara is an episode in the moral callousness of our time. Che was a totalitarian. He achieved nothing but disaster. Many of the early leaders of the Cuban Revolution favored a democratic or democratic-socialist direction for the new Cuba. But Che was a mainstay of the hardline pro-Soviet faction, and his faction won. Che presided over the Cuban Revolution's first firing squads. He founded Cuba's "labor camp" system—the system that was eventually employed to incarcerate gays, dissidents, and AIDS victims. To get himself killed, and to get a lot of other people killed, was central to Che's imagination. In the famous essay in which he issued his ringing call for "two, three, many Vietnams," he also spoke about martyrdom and managed to compose a number of chilling phrases: "Hatred as an element of struggle; unbending hatred for the enemy, which pushes a human being beyond his natural limitations, making him into an effective, violent, selective, and cold-blooded killing machine. This is what our soldiers must become …"— and so on. He was killed in Bolivia in 1967, leading a guerrilla movement that had failed to enlist a single Bolivian peasant. And yet he succeeded in inspiring tens of thousands of middle class Latin-Americans to exit the universities and organize guerrilla insurgencies of their own. And these insurgencies likewise accomplished nothing, except to bring about the death of hundreds of thousands, and to set back the cause of Latin-American democracy—a tragedy on the hugest scale.
(photo by phoebe ficus -- those are dollar signs on his sunglasses) Flip-flops
In the interest of avoiding contracting athlete's foot at the gym, Stewart and I bought some flip-flops this morning. Flip-flops, in addition to having a great name, are a big topic these days, as one of the more persistent accusations Bush is making against Kerry is that he flip-flops. CBS News has taken the time to list the top ten ways that Bush has Flip-flopped, but I'd like to take the position that flip-flopping isn't all that bad of a thing. There are times when you think you're right about something, and you spread it all over creation that you're right about it, and you tell your friends and write editorials to your paper -- and then you discover you're wrong about it. At which point, if you have any guts or integrity at all, you fess up and say, well, actually what I thought before turns out not to have been right. Among the many things I've flip-flopped about: avocados, pointy-toed shoes, Kerry. Among the many things I've never flip-flopped about: Bush. (link via Tikkabik, photo by quox) P.S. I love how you can find just about any image to illustrate just about any blog post by searching tags on Flickr. |