Freakonomics

I picked up Freakonomics from the library a while back. Interesting, but not nearly as fascinating as I was led to believe by the Really! Great! Reviews! And! Radio! Interviews!

While it satisfies some of my hankerings for complexity, it does so at a rhetorical level, making a point about how fascinating X, Y and Z are because the author is so revolutionary in thinking of them this way. And if you're wondering: "So... is he saying that 'Freakonomics' falls into the category of 'mental masturbation'?" Yes.... yes I am.

Regardless, I'll just say that if the popular buzz of 2005 (when the book came out) does anything for people looking at life's events in a more nuanced way, then I guess it has done some good. Would I recommend it? Sure. It's a relatively short/quick read - good for bedtime or bathroom reading, or if you're the voracious-reading type, it's maybe a day or two diversion from whatever you're using to tide yourself over until the final installment of Harry Potter and the Splendiferous Obsession With Countdowns comes out in hardcover. (hey Wendy, yes, that means you... And I have just three little words of tenderness to say to you: gimme some cheesecake.)

Notable Quotables that stuck out in my brain enough that I made note of them:
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When discussing how Experts are not necessarily always working in the best interests of their clients - i.e. Real Estate Agents, Cardiologists, Political/Journalist Consultants - pg 148: "[an] expert whose argument reeks of restraint or nuance doesn't get much attention."

How true. And how sad. Like the evening local TV news - if it bleeds, it leads. No actual news, just violence, tragedy, and scandal.
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In the chapter about how the Ku Klux Klan behaves in a incentive-based way like Real Estate Agents selling houses, he talks about how the Klan incentivises docility in the black community by terrorizing people - pg 62: "and there are few incentives more powerful than the fear of random violence - which, in essence, is why terrorism is so effective."

When I read that, I'm not seeing how the threat of terrorism is used by terrorists, but how the threat of random violence by some sort of unknown... somebody... is used by Bush, et. al. as a tool to get whatever they want. As long as people are constantly made afraid, and afraid of unknown random violence, they will become docile and compliant.

Ever notice how the middle setting of the threat advisory is "Elevated"? Essentially, on a scale of 1 to 5, the middle/average still is designed to cause fear. Makes you really wonder who is terrorizing whom.

What are YOU afraid of today?

(and how can someone else use that fear to manipulate you?)

Art and Sex (de la Heinlein)

Also known as "today's installment of Notable Quotables" - in this case from Stranger In A Strange Land... which was kind of a good thing to read. I'm a little aggravated with all the dystopic science fiction out there with post-apocalyptic whachamajiggers. SIASL isn't exactly utopia, but there's a utopian imagining to it.

On Art:

"Because the world has gone nutty and art always paints the spirit of the time. Rodin died about the time the world started flipping its lid. His successors... failed to see was that the master [Rodin] told stories that laid bare the human heart. They became contemptuous of painting of sculpture that told stories - they dubbed such work 'literary'. The went for all out abstractions."

Jubal shrugged. "Abstract design is all right - for wallpaper or linoleum. But art is the process of evoking pity or terror. What modern artists do is pseudo-intellectual masturbation. Creative art is intercourse, in which the artist renders emotional his audience. These laddies who won't deign to do that - or can't - lost the public. The ordinary bloke will not buy 'art' that leaves him unmoved. If he does pay, the money is conned out of him, by taxes or such."

"Jubal, I've always wondered why I didn't give a hoot for art. I thought it was something missing in me."

"Mmm, one does have to learn to look at art. But it's up to the artist to use language that can be understood. Most of these jokers don't want to use language you and I can learn; they would rather sneer because we 'fail' to see what they are driving at. If anything, Obscurity is the refuge of incompetence."

On Sex:

"...the ethics of sex is a thorny problem. Each of us is forced to grope for a solution he can live with - in the face of a preposterous, unworkable, and evil code of so-called 'Morals.' Most of us know the code is wrong, almost everybody breaks it. But we pay Danegeld by feeling guilty and giving lip service. Willy-nilly, the code rides us, dead and stinking, an albatross around the neck."

"You too, Ben. You fancy yourself a free soul - and break that evil code. But faced with a problem in sexual ethics new to you, you tested it against that same Judeo-Christian code... so automatically your stomach did flip-flops... and you think that proves you're right and they're wrong... Sex should be a means of happiness. Ben, the worst thing about sex is that we use it to hurt each other. It ought never to hurt; it should bring happiness, or at least, pleasure."

"The code says, 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.' The result? Reluctant chastity, adultery, jealousy, bitterness, blows and sometimes murder, broken homes and twisted children - and furtive little passes degrading to woman and man. Is this Commandment ever obeyed? If a man swore on his own Bible that he refrained from coveting his neighbor's wife because the code forbade it, I would suspect either self-deception or subnormal sexuality. Any male virile enough to sire a child has coveted many women, whether he acts or not."

damn cool libraries

Places I wish I could teleport to just to see them. (the cost of the plane tickets is too much, just for the scenery)

if only there was something...

I'm camped out in the library figuring out the hoosies and the what-sits of the photo gallery application on the web space that I'm playing with, and it's getting on in the evening. Not late, but getting to the dinner hour. So I'm thinking... "hmm, Jerusalem Gardens is always a tasty meal, and less than a block away". I do the mental pre-standing-up-from-the-chair inventory of whether I have everything I want to take with me... and realize "damn, I didn't bring my book to read while waiting for food, I guess I'll just entertain myself otherwise".

It only took about 3 seconds for it to dawn on me that I was sitting in a frickin' library. Surrounded by books. What a moron.

openess?

From the book club selection for the month _The Prince of Tides_, a conversation between Tom and his sister's psychiatrist:
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"Every time you say something personal, Tom," she said, "it seems as though you're putting more distance between us. Thee are time you seem very open, but it's a false openness."
"I'm an American male, Lowenstein," I said, smiling. "It's not my job to be open."
"What exactly is the American male's job?" she asked.
"To be maddening. To be unreadable, controlling, bull-headed, and insensitive," I said.
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There's something in there that speaks some truth about the American male experience, whether it be in the boardroom, on the factory floor, or at the NASCAR race. I doubt I can put it into words properly very well, so I'll just leave it with the quote.

soundbites of the day (gerrrtbites, if you will)

In the nutrition section of Ed Burke's Serious Cycling, he says: "...the body only stores up to four years worth of Vitamin B12..."

Are you fucking kidding me? Four Years ??!??!! That can't be right. And if it is: What POSSIBLE evolutionary purpose does that serve? As if 1 year worth of reserves might not be enough?

So I did some searching about the source of B12 - if we can store it for years, we must be getting plenty of it in our daily diet, eh? Well, apparently the vegetarians/vegans need to beware of deficiency because, as a bacterial source (technically, B12 isn't a nutrient, it's a contamination) it's most commonly found in milk and animal products. Curious about B12? For the bio-medically inclined, for the spiritual/homeopathically inclined (which I lump in with the prayer-water people), and then something a little more readable. Between the three, what understanding I get out of it is: in order to be healthy... (drum roll please).... eat a sensible diet.

Some of these folks get SO obsessed with the uptake of ____ polypeptide in confluence with _____ andromorph, while moderating the effects of _____ turboencabulation, that it seems like the only purpose of all of this is to scare the shit out themselves (or others). I'm sorry, but I can't devote that much time to obsessing about what I eat. Get some calories, some carbohydrates, some protein, a little vitamin C here, a little vitamin D there, a little bit of fat (for fun and tasty), some fiber (so you poop), drink plenty of water, and then get some sunshine and GO OUT AND LIVE YOUR FRICKIN' LIFE. Obsessing about the differences between Indian Ocean Kelp and Adriatic Sea Kelp and whether one or the other will improve your diabetes, all the while carrying around 280 pounds of body weight, doesn't seem like one's priorities are in the right place.

How about just going for a walk and breathing some fresh air?
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Hello, Little Car of Mine. I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. Let's go for a drive.

Not having to drive to work for the past 5 weeks has definitely changed my driving patterns. I went out to my car today, not having driven it since.... oh, shit. I have no idea... a week? I know my memory is bad, but this is ridiculous... I literally found a cobweb on my car (right next to the leaves and the bird shit).

From 300-400 miles/week commuting, to not having moved it out of it's parking space since... Thursday, I think... it's a little weird to get back in the car. I didn't miss it or anything, just a noticable change from biking/walking to driving.
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You have GOT to be kidding me. Amazon.com has definitely jumped the shark on this one. Might as well be Wal-mart selling 'em, for all the romance that is embodied in such a proposal...
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From the book club selection for the month The Prince of Tides :

"You and I aren't crazy, Tom. We're normal. Especially me. You get a little moody sometimes, but I think that's because you like to read. People that like to read are always a little fucked up."

The irony of reading this passage as a part of Book Club is not lost on me, that's for sure.
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A leftover excerpt from my adventure in Chicago's Millenium Park: One section of the park has a photographic display of some other famous parks, and the landscape architecture and uses of water, etc., etc.

Jargon that caught my attention: "as cities become more hardscaped...."

What the hell is "hardscaped"? Other than some clerk at the Bureau of Parks and Recreation who has extra time on their hands and an overactive imagination. I'm fond of making up words (progressivistically, of course), but when you're making something with longevity, monuments in a public park for example, you might want to stick with somewhat sedate, classical prose.
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last, but not least: I picked up something on the road today which cut through the tread of a tire, causing a flat and putting a serious crimp in my ride. For some reason I'm blaming this one on the Vittoria Rubino Pro. I'm sorry, but given the wear that it had on it after less than 500 miles, plus the ridiculous ease of the cut in it, I think they are just overly soft. I've always been fond of Conti, and I'm wondering if I should even bother with others or just "stick to what I know."

no way but forward

Being back on campus at UIUC, I figured I would take a stroll through the Met. & Mining Building (now known as the Materials Science and Engineering Building) just for old times. But as I'm walking through the old building and it's empty halls (since school is out of session for the summer) I wonder "what exactly am I expecting here?" I mean really... that I'm going to be magically transported through some fantastical Nostalgia Portal and I will be showered with rose petals as trumpets signal my return?

There's no past. It happened, it's over, those moments will never occur again. There is only forward, in whatever way that may manifest. Somehow along the way I fear that I have come to expect that I can pause/rewind/fast forward/skip along time like some sort of cosmic TiVO and that I can do everything. Maybe that's why I'm always late to things - I expect to be able to pause the rest of the world while I do just one more thing "it'll jus take a second, really, I swear". And just because I can imagine or relive a moment in my head doesn't make it happen, and in the meantime, the world has continued to turn while my imagining was in progress. From the book club selection last month (Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore) there's a passage when the Johnnie Walker character is harvesting the souls of the cats Nakata was looking for:

" 'You have to look!' Johnnie Walker commaded. '... Closing your eyes isn't going to change anything. Nothing's going to disappear just because you can't see what's going on. In fact things will be even worse the next time your eyes open. ... Closing your eyes and plugging up your ears won't make time stand still.' "