Sunday, October 21, 2007
Playing Catch-Up
Golly! I've been away for days. During that time, I've been tagged by Kim at Knit Whimsies, which I will deliver on in another post, my family and I have helped a friend move, I've gone to work, I've read more stories in "Logorrhea," I've checked Jeffrey Eugenides' book "Middlesex" out of the library, I've almost finished knitting a bath mitt, and I've gotten my new issue of Wired magazine in the mail. Such a useful magazine, Wired is. There's not a single issue wherein I haven't learned something. Since their redesign, they've made it a point to publish even more letters from readers, which I appreciate. Hey, there are some experts out here! I just wish I knew who wrote the smart-ass intros that lead off reader letters.
We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?
We've had rain, rain, and more rain in central Minnesota. It makes me think back to high school French class, where I learned to say "Il pleut," which means "It's raining." You say "pleut" as "plu" - kind of a short "u," but with some "e" mixed in. It almost sounds like rain when you say it, especially the sort of gray, plodding rain we've had. My mom told me that she had heard that if all the rain we've had lately were snow, we'd have 180 inches. Bring it on, baby! The white stuff, please, not more rain. Have we turned into Portland or Seattle?
Labels: family, french, friend, jeffrey eugenides, knit whimsies, knitting, logorrhea, middlesex, minnesota, mom, portland, rain, seattle, snow, weather, wired magazine
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Age and Accomplisment
I don't know. Maybe I'm just sensitive because I'm going to reach a milestone age tomorrow, but I'm sick to death of headlines like the one on the current Special Issue of Smithsonian magazine. (Fall 2007) It is . . .
37 Under 36: America's Young Innovators in the Arts and Sciences
I don't know about you, but the vaunting of the spectacular achievements of our youth make me feel completely inadequate. It always has, even when I was considered young, mostly because the tone is that if you haven't made it by a particular youthful age, the implication is that you'll never make it. As if all of us must achieve something noteworthy enough to make it into a magazine. As if those of us who don't simply aren't worth breathing the air on this earth. I do not begrudge people their accomplishments, au contraire! Amen and hallelujah to them for what they've done. And, amen and hallelujah to those who plug away at tasks that aren't deemed noteworthy by society, but that are crucial nonetheless. (You go, Mike Rowe!) But, quit attaching an age to the accomplishment, as though somehow we're all supposed to be so impressed by the wunderkind, merely because of the age, without factoring in all of the support the kid has had in getting to where he's gotten.
Because we can't seem to help ourselves on the whole age vs. achievement issue, I'd like to point out my favorite article on the subject, published by Wired Magazine in July 2006. (Yes, I still have the print version.) It's called "What Kind of Genius Are You?" and looks at the research of David Galenson, who studied age and achievement and found that those who blossomed early tended to peak early, but that there were plenty of genius types who didn't hit their creative strides until much later in life. There's still hope for those of us over 36.
P.S. I forgot a link that came through The Rake's Secrets of the Day email today. Apparently, I'm not to only one interested in the accomplishments of older folks. Lizz Winstead, who co-created The Daily Show, is looking for guys over 40 who've always wanted to be in a rock band, but life got in their way, for a reality show called "Ready 2 Rock." Here's a link to a video of Winstead describing the project.
37 Under 36: America's Young Innovators in the Arts and Sciences
I don't know about you, but the vaunting of the spectacular achievements of our youth make me feel completely inadequate. It always has, even when I was considered young, mostly because the tone is that if you haven't made it by a particular youthful age, the implication is that you'll never make it. As if all of us must achieve something noteworthy enough to make it into a magazine. As if those of us who don't simply aren't worth breathing the air on this earth. I do not begrudge people their accomplishments, au contraire! Amen and hallelujah to them for what they've done. And, amen and hallelujah to those who plug away at tasks that aren't deemed noteworthy by society, but that are crucial nonetheless. (You go, Mike Rowe!) But, quit attaching an age to the accomplishment, as though somehow we're all supposed to be so impressed by the wunderkind, merely because of the age, without factoring in all of the support the kid has had in getting to where he's gotten.
Because we can't seem to help ourselves on the whole age vs. achievement issue, I'd like to point out my favorite article on the subject, published by Wired Magazine in July 2006. (Yes, I still have the print version.) It's called "What Kind of Genius Are You?" and looks at the research of David Galenson, who studied age and achievement and found that those who blossomed early tended to peak early, but that there were plenty of genius types who didn't hit their creative strides until much later in life. There's still hope for those of us over 36.
P.S. I forgot a link that came through The Rake's Secrets of the Day email today. Apparently, I'm not to only one interested in the accomplishments of older folks. Lizz Winstead, who co-created The Daily Show, is looking for guys over 40 who've always wanted to be in a rock band, but life got in their way, for a reality show called "Ready 2 Rock." Here's a link to a video of Winstead describing the project.
Labels: accomplishment, age, creativity, daily show, david galenson, genius, lizz winstead, mike rowe, rock, smithsonian, the rake, wired magazine
Monday, June 25, 2007
That's Soooo 2000
I've got my new issue of Wired magazine, working my way through it cover-to-cover. That doesn't mean I'm necessarily reading every little thing, but I like to work front-to-back so I don't miss something. The cover image/article is of Transformers - as in the "more than meets the eye" type. I didn't get into these as a kid, so haven't read the article yet. My son went right to it, though - first thing read. I was more interested in the the mapping article "The Whole Earth, Cataloged: How Google Maps is changing the way we see the world" by Evan Ratliff and "Dispatches From the Hyperlocal Future" by Bruce Sterling.
Wired is relentlessly future-seeking, which makes me breathless and frustrated. Can't keep up! Can't . . . keeeeeep. . . up! Part of what makes me feel this way is how Wired's articles talk about what happened a mere seven years ago as if it was ancient history. For example, did you know that the Captcha (those squiggly letters/numbers that you have to type in periodically when doing web work in order to foil spambots) was invented by Luis von Ahn in 2000? Luis von Ahn has moved on to figuring out how to teach computers how to recognize beauty. (See the article "The Human Advantage" by Clive Thompson.) Seems like the Captcha has been around a while, but seven years is nothing in human history. Of course, this notion of three, five, seven years ago being ancient history is not Wired's fault. It's the nature of technology that is warping our sense of time. Wired simply reflects that. (What does irritate me about Wired is its habit of amplifying how incredibly backwards people are if they don't keep up or don't know what every abbreviation means. Where is their online glossary when you need one?)
What astounds me is that human creativity in general has ramped up to that same dizzying speed as technology. Think about how many books are produced per year now as opposed to in the 1800s. The classics from the 1800s are classics because they didn't have as much competition. We have thousands of Ansel Adams, what with digital photography, millions of publishers with blogging (although a good share of those aren't worth the 0's and 1's they're written with), and how many gazillions of movie producers with YouTube. There is simply no way the human mind - a single human mind - can track everything. We simply have to do our best and forget the rest.
Wired is relentlessly future-seeking, which makes me breathless and frustrated. Can't keep up! Can't . . . keeeeeep. . . up! Part of what makes me feel this way is how Wired's articles talk about what happened a mere seven years ago as if it was ancient history. For example, did you know that the Captcha (those squiggly letters/numbers that you have to type in periodically when doing web work in order to foil spambots) was invented by Luis von Ahn in 2000? Luis von Ahn has moved on to figuring out how to teach computers how to recognize beauty. (See the article "The Human Advantage" by Clive Thompson.) Seems like the Captcha has been around a while, but seven years is nothing in human history. Of course, this notion of three, five, seven years ago being ancient history is not Wired's fault. It's the nature of technology that is warping our sense of time. Wired simply reflects that. (What does irritate me about Wired is its habit of amplifying how incredibly backwards people are if they don't keep up or don't know what every abbreviation means. Where is their online glossary when you need one?)
What astounds me is that human creativity in general has ramped up to that same dizzying speed as technology. Think about how many books are produced per year now as opposed to in the 1800s. The classics from the 1800s are classics because they didn't have as much competition. We have thousands of Ansel Adams, what with digital photography, millions of publishers with blogging (although a good share of those aren't worth the 0's and 1's they're written with), and how many gazillions of movie producers with YouTube. There is simply no way the human mind - a single human mind - can track everything. We simply have to do our best and forget the rest.
Labels: ansel adams, books, captchas, creativity, frustration, google, history, luis von ahn, maps, photography, technology, time, wired magazine, youtube
Monday, May 21, 2007
Visible / Invisible
The newest issue of Wired Magazine (15.06) has two articles that deal with polar opposites of the same issue - online privacy. One of the articles is called "The Visible Man" (page 74) and talks about Hasan Elahi, who ended up on one of the American government's terrorist watch lists. In order to prove his innocence, he has decided to make his life an open book, posting photos of himself and his whereabouts, along with his debit card receipts, online in a continuous effort to allow the Feds to track his life. He even runs around with a GPS tracking unit in his pocket so they can map his location.
The other article (page 160), called ******* (okay, they are really dots, but I can't get that to show up here - it's supposed to simulate how passwords are seen when entered on a computer), is about Linkin Park's lead singer, Chester Charlie Bennington, and how his email password was stolen by a fan, who used the info in his emails to torment him and his wife. The fan, a woman named Devon Townsend, was caught. She worked for Sandia National Laboratories, "one of the Department of Energy's three nuclear weapons research facilities" (page 164). Scary, huh? Someone a little unhinged working in a nuclear facility. Her reason for messing with Bennington? She had about a half-hour's worth of work to do a day and stalked Bennington out of boredom. The whole incident has understandably scared the pants off Bennington, who has learned not to use his middle name as his password.
The articles taken together prove that navigating privacy issues on the internet is no easy task. On the one hand is a guy who is letting it all hang out; on the other is a guy who started out trusting his fans, but was taken advantage of and now wants some of his invisibility back. What's interesting is that boredom plays a factor in both cases. The woman bored with her job felt compelled to engage in stalking behavior to alleviate that boredom. In The Visible Man's situation, he's attempting to encourage a sense of boredom about his life in order to throw off any remote suspicions that he'll do something wrong.
To be visible online, or not to be visible? It's a conundrum that's going to take a while to shake out.
The other article (page 160), called ******* (okay, they are really dots, but I can't get that to show up here - it's supposed to simulate how passwords are seen when entered on a computer), is about Linkin Park's lead singer, Chester Charlie Bennington, and how his email password was stolen by a fan, who used the info in his emails to torment him and his wife. The fan, a woman named Devon Townsend, was caught. She worked for Sandia National Laboratories, "one of the Department of Energy's three nuclear weapons research facilities" (page 164). Scary, huh? Someone a little unhinged working in a nuclear facility. Her reason for messing with Bennington? She had about a half-hour's worth of work to do a day and stalked Bennington out of boredom. The whole incident has understandably scared the pants off Bennington, who has learned not to use his middle name as his password.
The articles taken together prove that navigating privacy issues on the internet is no easy task. On the one hand is a guy who is letting it all hang out; on the other is a guy who started out trusting his fans, but was taken advantage of and now wants some of his invisibility back. What's interesting is that boredom plays a factor in both cases. The woman bored with her job felt compelled to engage in stalking behavior to alleviate that boredom. In The Visible Man's situation, he's attempting to encourage a sense of boredom about his life in order to throw off any remote suspicions that he'll do something wrong.
To be visible online, or not to be visible? It's a conundrum that's going to take a while to shake out.
Labels: boredom, invisible, linkin park, nuclear, online privacy, technology, visible, wired magazine
