Voluntary Ignorance

This Popular Science editorial makes the point that the current level of scientific illiteracy isn’t just pernicious, but in large part willful. In other words, we have chosen to relegate scientific knowledge to the status of stuff you might be quizzed about on Jeopardy! This strikes me as a pretty questionable attitude for a society whose continued wealth depends on science.

A key quote: “What’s upsetting in these examples is not so much the positions taken by reasonable people on ethical and scientific issues as the fact that debates seem shaped by political operatives who bypass reason and instead leverage ignorance the way dot-com-era Wall Street leveraged phantom assets.”

It’s short, so read the whole thing.

(via Paul Riddell)

Share This Post

Youch!

James Capozzola cut his finger while attempting the slicing of an egg roll.

He doesn’t say, but I suspect his problem might have arisen from a knife that became too dull. Folks, please: keep your kitchen cutlery sharp, especially if you cook at all frequently. Most accidents from knives result because the blades are too dull to cut cleanly, thus requiring the user to apply more downward pressure to the handle, in turn creating potential for those sudden slips of the blade that lead to bleeding digits. If your knife is properly sharp, you should not have to apply any downward pressure to the handle while cutting: gravity will do the job as you move the blade laterally. If your knifes are dull, get them sharpened. You will find that cutting requires less effort, and your risk of cuts will be greatly reduced. This is true of all knives, even serated bread knives.

And as long as I’m talking about knives, here’s another tip. Suppose you’re cutting up vegetables or meat and you need to transfer them from the cutting board to the soup pot or the wok or the frying pan or whatever. Many people will pick up the cutting board and then use the knife blade to push the veggies into the waiting pot.

Don’t do this. Please oh please. This will hasten the dulling of the blade (assuming that you’re using good quality knives, as opposed to crappy stainless steel ones).

What you should do in this case is either put the knife aside and use your hand to slide the items from the cutting board to the pot, or, if you must use the knife, invert it. Use the back edge of the blade, the non-sharpened surface, to push the veggies.

Aside from pots and pans, knives are the most important tools in a kitchen in which any cooking beyond heating canned soups is being done. Treat them with care and use them correctly, and there’s no need to ever spill your own blood upon the counter and thus be forced into a phase of light blogging!

Share This Post

Remembrance of Things Past, but with less French….

About two years and a month ago, I was lazily doing some Net surfing and engaged in one of my common Net timekillers: doing Google searches for former high school and college classmates. On this particular occasion, I decided to check what was up with a former fellow Philosophy major from the college days, whom I knew had gone into ministry. Thus I found Sean Meade’s blog, the discovery of which made me think, “What on Earth is a ‘blog’?” I quickly surmised that it was some kind of online diary or journal or something. Seemed like a nifty idea.

And then a week or two later, an article appeared in TIME Magazine, the gist of which was “Hey, there’s these really cool things now called ‘blogs’! And you can get one for free! Here’s how you do it!”

I mulled this over for another week or two, thinking that this would be pretty cool indeed. At the time I was still quite active on Usenet, although I was getting really tired of basically staying “on topic” and thus repeating the same things I’d said over-and-over again. The idea of a “blog” was really appealing, since I’d occasionally considered setting up a personal site where I’d put up essays and such on a sporadic basis, but never come ’round to actually doing so. But the confluence of finding Sean’s blog and that article about blogging in TIME basically clinched it.

So I signed up with Blogger and BlogSpot, created my first blog, decided I didn’t like the title, scrapped it, and launched a different one. I needed a title, though, and I was having trouble coming up with one. I didn’t want to have something like “Jaquandor’s Rants”, since I don’t rant all that often; I wanted something mildly poetic that would basically convey the fact that I would write about anything that interests me (and a lot of stuff interests me). But I had trouble with the title: When writing fiction, I rarely start with a title. Instead, I write for a while until the story’s title “comes” to me, but obviously this approach wouldn’t work for a new blog that would go unread by, well, millions. I wanted something with at least a little cachet, and This Blog To Be Titled Later had about as much cachet as a shopping mall food court Chinese eatery. (Now, there is Chinese food that leaves me hungry an hour later, if only because it’s so bland I can never finish it.)

About that moment, my eye fell upon my copy of Stephen Lawhead’s novel Byzantium (which I really need to go back and re-read, since I never finished it the first time, and not because I didn’t like it). And this was just after I’d finished reading Guy Gavriel Kay’s The Sarantine Mosaic, with its depiction of a fictional Byzantium: a cosmopolitan place wherein all of the world’s traditions and cultures met, sometimes for good and sometimes for ill. So I had half the title (Byzantium by itself seemed incomplete), and then I thought of sea shores — again, places where differing worlds come together, and places where some journeys begin and others end. “Eureka!” shouted I, disturbing the cat. “Byzantium’s Shores! The very pinnacle of human coolness on Earth!” [Some details in this account have been embellished.]

So I had a title, I chose my template, and I just charged right in and started blathering — two years ago, this very day. I didn’t do a lot of lurking about Blogistan before I started posting, so I didn’t have any idea, really, of the “lay of the land”. I didn’t know who Glenn Reynolds was; Atrios and Kevin Drum and TBogg and many others hadn’t even started yet. The first liberal blogger I found was Demosthenes, after he was linked by Steven Den Beste, who has been on my blogroll since almost the very beginning — along with Sean.

Back then, I had a strict “No Politics” policy that I’ve gradually abandoned, realizing that I don’t need such a policy since non-stop writing about politics really isn’t my style anyway. I’d rather groove on stuff, with occasional descents into sheer geekery or pithy political comment. I like to think I’ve struck a decent balance: my obvious leftism doesn’t seem to have directly pissed off any of my known right-leaning readers into leaving, which is really as it should be. I was also pretty staunch about remaining pseudonymous in the beginning, but that was born, really, of my first forays into the Net back in the early 90s — when everybody had a “handle”, and nobody much cared who anybody else was. I’ve loosened that up quite a bit; my writings on Green Man Review are in my real name, for example.

So where do I go from here? I just soldier on, I guess — writing about things that interest me as I cast my nets out and see what I manage to dredge up from the depths. Two years and counting: not a bad way to have spent a lot of time since 15 February 2002 (incidentally, I now recall, the birthday of my second college room-mate — I don’t know why I thought of that just now). Lots of books read, music heard, movies seen, football games watched. In that span, my family has moved twice, and I have held two jobs, spent a great chunk of that time unemployed and looking in vain for freelance work, finished one novel and got halfway through the next, written a handful of short stories, and published one op-ed piece in The Buffalo News. And, best of all, I’ve encountered a lot of fine, fine people whose interests and writings continue to affect my own.

Thanks, then, to everyone who has ever linked this space and read it on a continual basis. What a trip it’s been — kind of long, and more than a little strange. Hmmmm….now what does that remind me of? Ah well, I’ll figure it out later.

On to Year Three.

Share This Post

Digital Music, revisited (a repost)

(I first wrote the following article back in September, but I wanted to bring it up again today after Sean’s post today that copyright and DRM, as we know them, are dead. Well, of course they are; but in all these discussions — focusing on music — we keep focusing on how these changes will affect the consumers, and to a lesser extent how they will affect the artists. We don’t see nearly as much consideration of how these changes will affect the music. The post also links an old article from 2Blowhards; be sure to read that.)

There is a long post about digital stuff – – music, movies, assorted whatnot – – over on 2 Blowhards that’s really worth reading. I want to single out two particular grafs (but the whole post, really, is pretty interesting):

* Aside from copyright concerns, the big worry people have expressed about the effect of programs such as Itunes is that they destroy “the album” as a creation. Now that the program itself is all about the individual songs, who’s going to go to the trouble of listening to a carefuly constructed album?

Exactly right. One big argument in favor of digital music, and against the RIAA’s pricing, is the “Sixteen bucks for two songs” argument, as in: “Don’t you get mad when you pay sixteen bucks for a CD with twelve songs on it, when you only want two of them?”

Well, no, not really. I’ve never understood this argument. Yes, I used to buy rock or pop albums on the basis of the one or two songs I’d heard on the radio or on MTV, but then, I always understood the idea of the single as a marketing item for the album. And quite often, I found that often the best songs on an album are not the ones released as singles, and more importantly, a well-produced album is a delight in itself, in the sequencing of the songs, the interplay of their subject matter, et cetera.

Any classic rock radio station will play Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick In the Wall, Part II” fairly often. And it is a great song, most assuredly. But it’s even greater when you hear it in the context of the album of which it is a part. Digital distribution is going to kill that aspect of music, and that’s a damn shame. Chalk it up as a further reduction of our cultural attention span.

Back to the Blowhard:

* But as I played with Itunes, one other worry occurred to me: it seems inevitable that Itunes (etc) will be the end of the song-that-grows-on-you. Why? Because you’ll never give a song that doesn’t instantly grab you a second (let alone a tenth) chance. I’m not the world’s most impatient listener, yet with Itunes I find myself not just skipping the in-between-the-hits songs; I don’t even transfer them to the hard drive in the first place. I also find that there’s a strong temptation to listen to songs for just a few seconds at a time. Click — and you get that rush that the first bars of a song you like deliver. And then it’s Click again. Pretty soon you’re like a rat who’s developed a taste for speed; you’re going from place to place, looking for another up. When you don’t find it, you’re outta there, and outta there fast.

Again, exactly right. This will encourage our fetish for instant gratification. I’m reminded of a bit of dialogue in the movie Mr. Holland’s Opus, in which Mr. Holland (Richard Dreyfuss) describes his youthful initial encounter with the music of John Coltrane. I don’t recall the exact wording, but it goes like this: “I listened to this record, and I hated it. I mean, I really hated it. I hated it so much that I took it home and listened to it every day, trying to understand why I could hate it so much. And then I realized that I loved it.”

This isn’t uncommon. I’ve had this experience many times, and not just with music (although you could take the same bit of dialogue, substitute the name “Hector Berlioz” for John Coltrane, and you’d have my exact story with regard to who is now my favorite classical composer). I suspect that we won’t take time to get to know an artist, to allow his or her work to slowly cast its spell upon us. It’ll be “Gimme magic now, or I’m on to the next person.” That’s not good.

What I fear (or, not so much “fear” as “suspect”) is that this soon-to-be idyllic heaven, when there are millions of songs out there for pennies each, is going to have serious repercussions for not just the way we buy music, but for how the music itself will impact our lives. We should think about that.

Share This Post

The surest sign of a desperate blogger….

….is filling out a questionaire. On Friday, to boot. This one is from Lynn Sislo.

1. What is your favorite word? I suppose it would depend on the mood, right? I like “Golden” and “Mists”. I enjoy the sound of “Mellifluous”. I don’t know, really — I tend to like combinations of words more than specific words.

2. What is your least favorite word? Copacetic. I can’t stand this word, especially when three or four years ago, all of a sudden, everybody was using it for some strange reason. (Like Lynn, I’m not enamored of “blog” either, but I’ve long since conceded that one.)

3. What turns you on (inspires you)? Good food; a story well told; a fine musical phrase; a city skyline at night; mountains; trees; ships — both sea and spacefaring. A lot of things inspire me, I guess.

4. What turns you off? Management-speak. You people with jobs know what I’m talking about.

5. What sound do you love? All of them, really. Sounds are cool.

6. What sound do you hate? Anything over the PA system at Wal-Mart.

7. What is your favorite curse word? Well, I’m not proud of this, but the big M.F., probably. Although I’ve trained myself to not so much say it as mouth it forcefully. Also, in keeping with my admiration for all things Red Foreman, I’m very fond of “dumb ass”.

8.What profession other than yours would you like to attempt? Hmmmmm. Don’t know, really. Writing isn’t my profession yet, but I’m already attempting it; and thus far I’m perfectly happy sweeping the floor at the grocery store. I could say that I wouldn’t mind being a professor of something, but I’ve seen the crap that goes on in academia; likewise, I admire chefs like Emeril Lagasse and all those other folks, but the idea of working seventy to ninety hour weeks, putting in at least six days, doesn’t appeal to me one whit. I guess I’d love to get paid for reading, but that’s not really a profession.

9. What profession would you not like to participate in? There are many, actually. Law. Actual telemarketing, of the “Call people at home at dinnertime” variety. Air traffic control.

10. Presupposing that Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? “Hey there, I’ve been waiting for you. Pull up a chair so we can watch The Phantom Menace on my home theater system.” Then he’d lean forward, wink, and whisper, “And boy, do all those wankers who continually bash George Lucas have a surprise in store when they kick the bucket. Heh heh heh!” And then he’d take me to meet Hector Berlioz; and he’d let me watch Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Gregory Hines, et al in rehearsal; and….well, I don’t know. I generally don’t think much about Heaven. I just think it would be one cosmic moment in which I finally get it, you know?

Share This Post

IMAGE OF THE WEEK





Haystack Rock, Cannon Beach, Oregon.

This is one of the iconic memories of my childhood — before we moved to Western New York when I was ten, we lived in a number of places, including Portland, Oregon; occasionally we would drive the sixty miles or so from Portland to Cannon Beach, the nearest bit of Pacific Ocean shoreline to where we lived. Cannon Beach is dominated by the 235-foot tall megalith Haystack Rock, which sits just beyond the water’s edge. It’s been well over twenty years since I last saw Haystack Rock, but I vividly remember the hundreds, of not thousands, of seagulls and birds coming and going from their nests on the rock.

Share This Post