Friday, September 22, 2017

Deep Dives

For the first half of the 20th century, major league baseball was segregated by race -- not by any written rule, but by a "gentleman's agreement" among owners and league executives to not give any African-American player a real shot at a contract or spot on any team.

But baseball was too much of an American pastime to keep Americans out of it, even Americans segregated, marginalized and derided for the color of their skin. And so the Negro Leagues were born, lasting as an organization from roughly the first of the century through a few years after Jackie Robinson re-integrated the major leagues in 1947. Several biographies and histories of the teams and stars of the Negro League teams tell the stories of the game and its impact on segregated African-American urban life -- that strange parallel existence by which entire cities and cultural structures grew up in the areas to which the people had been confined. Black doctors, black businesses, black hotels, black restaurants and so on formed a complete society that rarely needed white support to survive. Black baseball was a part of this structure, and so was a black press that reported on it. Media professor Brian Carroll has written two books on the relationship between the African-American press and Negro League baseball, of which 2015's The Black Press and Black Baseball, 1915-1955: A Devil’s Bargain is the second. It focuses on several "slices" of the overall half-century story rather than laying it out in detail, using them as a way to understand the complicated relationship.

On the one hand, Negro League owners and executives saw the black press as a booster for what they were doing. The news outlets of a particular city had a responsibility to make that city's team look good. The initial chapter, which covers the way that individual newspapers enlisted on different sides of owner fights in 1915, shows how this quickly reduced them to owner mouthpieces (Indianapolis and Chicago papers allowed the different team owners a column to respond to each other in print).

Reporters for black newspapers agreed with this to some extent. Carroll highlights the history of the Negro League's "East-West Classic" and the way that papers and writers trumpeted its financial success and cultural demonstration of black equality. The way that the Classic's gate outdrew the competing Major League All-Star game some years features prominently in their writing. Their boosterism during Robinson's first season ignored a reality that the job was harder on him than anyone knew.

But increasingly, reporters and editors used their platform to argue and work for the integration of American society, including baseball. And as Carroll notes, the success of their efforts spelled the end of the Negro Leagues, as major league owners classified its teams as independent operators and simply raided the best talent. Aspiring young black ballplayers set their sights on major league uniforms and joined major league farm systems, leaving black fans with less and less reason to support separate teams that reminded them of their marginalized past. Carroll closes the book with a chapter on the role of the black press in pushing for desegregation in spring training facilities in the American South during the 1960s, the last remnant of official racial separation in baseball. The "devil's bargain" of the subtitle refers to the way that when the goal of official integration came to pass, it consigned to history the teams so important to 20th century black culture.

The Black Press is a little dry in tone, less so in describing the colorful feud of the first chapter than elsewhere. The Routledge Press sports history research format confines Carroll to relatively few pages and probably helps drive the vignette structure of the book. So although he brings to light an important part of American sports and press history, a fuller treatment will also be welcome whenever it arrives.
Mathematics has always had two main branches -- applied and what is often called "pure." Applied math is what we do when we figure how much paint we need for a certain size of wall or try to balance our checkbook. It's also found in physics, design and engineering work. "Pure" math usually describes work with formulas or equations that are being used in the abstract. Their numerals or variables don't refer to any physical measurements or qualities. Work in this field can seem as much philosophy as math and, at least in the time of the ancient Greek originators of some of its fields, functioned the same way.

In fact, for some groups like students of Pythagoras, math and geometry were as much religion as anything else. When advances in calculation and working materials in the mid and late 1800's led to a resurgence of abstract math, a number of folks revived its connection to religion as well. Daniel J. Cohen in 2007's Equations from God: Pure Mathematics and Victorian Faith traces the rise of this trend as well as its eventual end as mathematicians worked to professionalize their discipline.

Cohen starts by showing how the largely unchanging equations and laws of math offered security to a lot of folks bewildered by the rapid pace of technological change during the 19th century. Equations related to each other and their concepts moved and changed completely independently of things that happened in the "real world." The relationship between the lengths of the sides of a right triangle was the same whether the triangle was drawn on paper or existed only in the mind of the person thinking about it. This regularity in abstraction appealed to intellectual folks who were also devoted people of faith, as it seemed to offer a parallel to their religious understandings.

Cohen focuses on a handful of professors at schools in the United States and England, and the way their interest in math began to dominate their religious thinking and philosophy as well. They're all Unitarians or in some cases Deists, as those branches of faith had stronger appeal for the highly educated men involved in this loose movement. Some are names less well-known today than in their time, although George Boole's work in logic during the 1850s led to a lot of the concepts underlying modern computing and what's called "Boolean logic" in search engines. It's how you use AND or NOT in a search window to limit the results. Both Boole and his contemporary Augustus De Morgan used their pattern of logical formulation to describe their religious ideas and to try to falsify those of some opponents.

The end of the wave came as mathematicians moved to set themselves on a more professional footing, in part to reduce the attention they were having to pay to people who came up with flawed "solutions" to unsolvable problems, like the exact value of π. But the only way they could distance it and support the idea that mathematics was its own discipline was to trim away its connection to others, including theology. Narrow minds in both fields pushed against the idea of bridges between them and helped contribute to a supposed gulf between faith and science or scientific ideas that many accept as real today.

Cohen doesn't have a tight focus on the non-mathematical aspects of his subjects lives, and although the biographical details humanize them he doesn't always draw clear connections between the facts he includes and their bearing on the math-theology connection which his book is supposed to explore. DeMorgan especially was prone to feuds with other scientists, such as Michael Faraday, and we don't learn exactly why the details of it bear on the central idea. To some extent Boole and certainly De Morgan aren't really religious as much as they are spiritual or metaphysical, but they do apply their work to some religious themes.

But math can hold the same appeal for the intellectual and religious today as it did in the 19th century, and so Equations offers a quick picture of a time when the idea of a religious scientist was not the oxymoron limited thinkers would hold it to be today.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

The Eternal September

Am NPR story from earlier this month relates the history of Earth Wind and Fire's "September," a 1978 hit that is one of the evergreens of the dance floor, radio playlist or windows-down volume-up drives down a sunlit boulevard.

Writer Dan Charnas tells the story of how the song was written, how it got its "ba-di-ya" chorus and why the specific date referenced is the 21st. According to the headline, the main purpose of the story is to explain the song's longevity and its popularity. Charnas' story is a cool little slice of history, but the headline is asks the wrong question. We don't need to read a retrospective on "September" to understand why it's lasted so long and why people will still groove to it 39 years later. We just have to push "play:"

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Can't Stop the Signal

"May have been the losing side...still not convinced it was the wrong one."

--Malcolm Reynolds, five hundred years from now

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Today's Text

A reading, suitably interpreted for the day:

Aye th' Lord be my Cap’n, I’ve all that I need.

He puts a wind abaft th' beam; he sets a course f’r smooth waters; he sets me heart at ease. Sure an’ once ‘tis all done we do give him honor for it.

Even though I’ll sail in th’ roughest seas, I be fearin’ no lee shore, f’r his hand on th’ wheel is sure, an’ ne’er do we miss stays.

Never in life does he stop our grog f’r nothing, an' sees he we’ve all et well afore there’s a row; we’ve prize money an’ booty t’ spare.

Surely ‘tis blessing an’ favor all me days, an’ I shall sail in his crew ‘til th’ waves close over me head an' beyond.

Th' word o' the Cap'n f'r th' people o' th' Cap'n;


Monday, September 18, 2017

Empty Screens

This guy is smack on the money about how hard it is to watch an older movie on Netflix's streaming service.

Zach Schonfeld writing at Newsweek points out the very limited selection the streaming service has when it comes to movies made before 1970. I switched when the gym where I used to live got wi-fi and it was easier to stream something onto my tablet on the treadmill. But I'm thinking about switching back or maybe trading out for one of the other services Schonfeld mentions. And for that matter, everything he says about classic older movies goes and maybe even double for international movies. It's not hard to exhaust the catalogue in your fave genre if you even just want to catch two or three a week.

Netflix has some of the same misconceptions that a lot of modern culture seems to when it comes to these classics. Most of today's great directors started out on a diet of those iconic movies and it inspired their own creative visions. As bad as the screen scene is today, I shudder to think of what it might be like if future filmmakers get moved to study the craft based on a menu of Will Farrell, Judd Apatow and David Gordon Green.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

A Strong Constitution

On this day in 1787, 39 men signed a document outlining the new method by which the United States would govern itself. The initial Articles of Confederation had proved unworkable, and delegates had been meeting to hash out a new proposal. Sept. 17 was their final meeting, at which they signed the document in order for it to be sent out to states to be ratified.

So today we celebrate Constitution Day, with a little bit of melancholy at the realization that most of the political figures who take an oath to uphold and defend said Constitution see it mostly as a tool to be used rather than rules and limits to be followed. But this was probably bound to happen; the Constitution may be great but it's not magic or anything. And it would probably take a supernatural force to bring their attention to what that document says they should and should not do.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Test Pattern

The worn-out Friar got his tartan on at the Oklahoma Scotfest in Tulsa and listened to some great music, so he will return tomorrow.

Friday, September 15, 2017

...And I Feel Fine

The end of the world -- and its aftermath -- is a fertile field for growing stories. Whether it ends via natural disaster or human-caused calamity, the tales of those who survive feature challenges, heroism, ingenuity as well as the darker impulses spurred by the will to survive at the expense of others. Here are three visions of How It All Ends and What Comes After.

Sci-fi authors Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle made a big splash with their 1974 alien first-contact novel The Mote in God's Eye. The collaboration was enjoyable enough that they turned their hands to a disaster novel in between their respective solo work. The result, 1977's Lucifer's Hammer, is not really a science fiction novel even though that's where you're likely to find it shelved. Instead we watch several people in the months preceding a comet smashing into the Earth, what happens to them and others on that day, and their struggle to survive and rebuild their society in the months afterwards.

Both authors have the science backgrounds to flesh out the technical aspects of smashing the Earth with a giant comet, and they set most of their novel in and around Southern California, an area they lived in and knew. It may seem as though the first section of the novel, setting up the characters and their own specific situations, drags a little, but Niven and Pournelle are taking pains to show what kind of life the comet, nicknamed "The Hammer," will destroy. The section outlining how each of our main characters either does or doesn't escape the effects of the comet strike is harrowing and realistic.

The post-strike section, centering on the battle between a roving anti-technological cannibal army and an enclave working to survive and rebuild, feels a little less focused, but that may stem from the strength of the section on the day of the impact. Niven and Pournelle comment on what they believe are the keys to humanity's survival by showing which kinds of responses to disaster succeed and which fail. Those choices are not entirely organic, and could use some more supporting evidence to make them seem less arbitrary. The characterizations are largely solid, although only two of the female leads are very well drawn. Hammer could probably benefit from some tightening and maybe cast slimming but it's still a great end-of-the-world yarn that is less outdated than its 40-year-old pedigree might suggest.
Walter M. Miller spent most of his active writing career working in short stories. The only novel he published during his lifetime was the 1960 post-apocalyptic triptych A Canticle for Leibowitz, about life at different periods following a nuclear World War III.

Canticle's action begins several hundred years after the war, in a monastery in the Desert Southwest. Civilization has only begun to recover, as in the aftermath of the war technology and advanced knowledge were blamed, rooted out and destroyed wherever they could be found. The monastery is the home of the "Albertian Order of Leibowitz," monks who carry on the work of Isaac Liebowitz, a Jewish engineer who spent the tumultuous postwar years collecting, hiding and preserving books and knowledge. The first section concerns the canonization of the Blessed Leibowitz as St. Leibowitz. In the second, set 600 years after the first, secular leaders want to try to control the knowledge contained at the abbey and political struggles with the church lead to schism. The third section, set 600 years later, sees humanity with advanced technology and colonies in other solar systems. The Order now works to preserve all knowledge, particularly important as two major powers seem set on again fighting each other with nuclear weapons.

The action isn't the focal point of Canticle, as Miller uses his characters and narrative to explore topics like the role of religious faith as a transmitter of knowledge and whether secular and ecclesiastical power structures can really co-exist. Starting with the wry irony of the title -- an order of Roman Catholic monks named for a Jewish electrical engineer -- Miller aims to tell the truth as he sees it but to do so following Emily Dickenson's admonition to tell it slant. The post-apocalyptic world of Canticle serves mostly as a way for Miller to skew things enough to bring that slant to bear and make readers think in order to uncover the ideas at the core of his work.
The post-apocalyptic setting of Robert Adams multi-volume Horseclans series is also important mainly as a backdrop, but in a much different way. The plains and eastern U.S. after a devastating nuclear war functions like Robert E. Howard's Hyborean Age -- as a backdrop for some down-and-dirty sword-slinging, hacking and slashing action.

In the series' first novel, 1975's The Coming of the Horseclans, we meet Milo Morai, a man who has lived for centuries, saw the nuclear holocaust of 1980 and helped its survivors develop a nomadic culture modeled on different plains Indian tribes. Milo is one of the Undying, a group of immortals who can be killed only by suffocation, decapitation or drowning. He had sought others of his kind but not found them, so when the novel begins he is returning to the Horseclan people he founded. They have flourished, communicating telepathically with their mounts and with genetically engineered saber-toothed cats developed before the war. The bulk of the novel recounts how the Horseclans invade the decadent kingdom of the Ehlens (Hellenes), Kenooryos Ehlas. These Greek-speaking people had invaded the U.S. after the war and established themselves on the Eastern seaboard.

Throughout the novel -- and the whole series -- Adams stops now and again to lecture about politics, religion and the corrupting effects of civilization. These exposition asides frequently stall the narrative and have the additional effect of making the author appear like a jerk if you happen to hold one of those opinions on the downside of his literary nose.

Features such as that lessen the fun of what should be a big ol' sword-and-sorcery romp across the remnants of the old world, and Adams is simply not enough of a stylist like Howard and other earlier writers to overlook the digressions. The tale-spinner's inability to know when to shut up and spin leaves Coming and the rest of the Horseclans series at a solid C+ instead of the B or B+ its elements give it the potential to be.

Arrivederci, Cassini

NASA sent its Cassini spaceship into the Saturn atmosphere early this morning, insuring its radioactive fuel and any possible Earth microbes it carried could never accidentally contaminate a world where life might develop. Saturn's moons Titan and Enceladus offer that possibility given their interior oceans, and the Cassini team decided to be certain no unplanned rendezvous between them developed.

The story at the Los Angeles Times recounts some of the highlights of the probe's 13-year exploration of Saturn and its moons, including the Huygens lander that sent back pictures of Titan's surface in 2005 (Huygens was designed to prevent contamination possibilities, making it safe to land).

It also points out how close the mission came to being scrubbed by budget cuts, and how those same kinds of cuts limited the instruments that the ship carried. Maybe the upcoming New Frontiers project and tier of missions should take a hint from NASCAR and decide to sell a little advertising -- space nut Jeff Bezos would probably cough up at least seven figures to have the Amazon logo on the side of a satellite headed to Titan.

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Unexpected Benefits?

NBA Commissioner Adam Sliver, thinking out loud the other day, mused about how to make his sport's game broadcasts look more like a video game, with things like onscreen stat windows and such that are linked to the player. He thinks that would be a way to draw more eyeballs to those broadcasts, or at least keep folks from tuning out.

Aside from the clutter making it harder to watch the game, Silver overlooks a significant difference between the video game screen and the actual game screen: The former features action controlled by the viewer, which makes the real-time stat windows important to gameplay. When the clock ticks down, you want the ball in the hands of the best shooter and stopping to check a stat sheet kind of mars the flow.

But an actual game is not controlled by the viewer, shouted suggestions at the TV screen notwithstanding. So the stats will just clutter that screen.

I feel pretty safe about baseball either way, though. If the idea is to try to keep the attention of modern microscopic attention spans by clogging things with information, baseball should be safe. Its intermittent activity and measured pace would mean that the stat windows would stay stationary for most of the game -- and they would probably be taken down after not very long because baseball resists efforts to bring artificial excitement to that pace. We can hope that perceptive folks would see this before such an idea is tried and we have to put up with it before its inevitable disappearance.

Of course, Chief Baseball Officer Joe Torre is known for supporting stupid ideas for changing the game, so we may have to endure the experiment anyway.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Never Ending Battle

When DC Comics did it's "New 52" retcon several years ago, I thought it was pretty dumb.

When Grant Morrison revealed a villain plaguing Batman was actually his supposedly-dead father, Thomas Wayne, I thought it was pretty dumb. I also thought it was pretty dumb that Thomas Wayne was, instead an immortal evil ancestor of Bruce "Batman" Wayne, also named Thomas.

When DC moved into its "Rebirth" storylines, I was hoping that some of the New 52 silliness would go away, and it seems like it has.

But then stuff like this creeps in the back way, and I just give up. BTW, spoilers for the current Superman storyline at the link, so don't look unless you already know the story or don't care about finding it out without reading it.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Number on a Napkin

In some contexts, the number on the napkin was the prize of the evening -- an attractive person of the opposite sex had responded to witty overtures and winning ways, and graced one with a phone number to be used for later conversation and arranging another meeting.

Nowadays, of course, one gives someone else one's digits, usually entered into a cell phone. As in the days of the desired napkin, those might be false -- but a quick call can show that even before one leaves the bar, so that alternative targets may be selected.

Physicists are not like other people. During December 2013, a group of them gathered at a bar and they also wrote down numbers on a napkin: Their best guesses as to the final estimate of Planck's Constant that would be generated by their particular project.

The group worked with the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST), which was trying to measure the constant in order to help redefine the kilogram. Earlier definitions relied on the International Prototype Kilogram, a physical object created in the 19th century to be the standard weight. Over time, its weight and mass have varied -- not enough to make much of a difference when someone stands on the scales or smuggles cocaine but more than enough to hobble scientific experiments requiring precise measurements.

At its 2011 meeting the General Conference on Weights and Measures decided to redefine the kilo in terms of Planck's Constant. Different groups have been experimenting to find more and more exact figures for the constant, and when the NIST group made the most accurate determination to date back in 2013 the team gathered to celebrate.

During the celebration, the ten gathered wrote down their own guesses as to what value would eventually be submitted to the General Conference:

The napkin was sealed in a plastic bottle and put into the foundation of the next level of the project, NIST-4. Recently, the project was able to make a determination of even greater accuracy with its NIST-4 device, and checked the numbers against the final submission. Shisong Li of China (5th from the bottom) earned the prize, as his guess of 6.62606990000 × 10–34 was closest to the submitted value, 6.626069934 × 10–34.

Another celebration followed, this one featuring a rum cake with the submitted value in icing. In some areas, it seems, physicists may be quite a bit like other people.

Monday, September 11, 2017


If philosophical debates were like this cartoon from the Existential Comics page, then a lot more people would probably study philosophy a lot younger. It might then be possible that folks in their early 20s would legitimately know a significant percentage of what they already think they do.

That would be a development Bernie Sanders would hate since it would probably mean he'd be a selectman in some Vermont hamlet isolated by snow nine months out of the year instead of a senator and the root cause of Hillary Clinton's failure to be president. But not to worry, according to news stories about Mrs. Clinton's book, she has a lot of other people to blame and it'll take her some time to go through the other seven billion people on the planet before being left alone at last with the only real culprit,

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Keyboard Stilled

Jerry Pournelle, half of the duo that produced the great Mote in God's Eye and Lucifer's Hammer, passed away a couple of days after returning from a science fiction convention.

Other than having just sent a finished manuscript to a publisher or just told the best joke in the room, finishing a fun con is probably the way in which Pournelle would most like to have stepped off this mortal coil. Most modern military sci-fi and space opera traces roots back to his work in the early 1970s. His right-leaning libertarianism makes a lot of people see him as one of Robert Heinlein's truest heirs in both tech-savvy "hard" sci-fi writing and cantankerous politics.

Pournelle's collaborations, with Niven alone or with Niven and others, will probably outlast some of his own work in terms of impact on the science fiction field. Re-reading some of what I enjoyed as a young Friar exposes some of the weaknesses of a solo Pournelle work, a few of which are mentioned in the review of Mote linked above. But none of those collaborations would be what they are without him, and so he himself has stamped something indelible on the genre.

Saturday, September 9, 2017

Script Doctor Needed

So depending on which media bubble surrounds you and your opinion, you have probably heard about two Hollywood showfolk offering opinions on the causes of the devastating hurricane which hit southeast Texas and another which is about to hit Florida. Jim Culver, writing as JimmyC on the Threedonia blog, compares the two here. Threedonia's a pop culture site written from a mostly conservative perspective that I often like to read even if it does sometimes show less charity towards people holding other points of view than I'd hope to see.

But Culver is about the only writer who's drawn the comparisons between press coverage of comments from Kirk Cameron and Jennifer Lawrence on the brutal storms and their impact on the United States. He points out that Cameron's comments have drawn the usual derision from the usual suspects who claim that the born-again actor says Harvey and Irma are signs of God's wrath against a US that has fallen away from God. This repugnant and wrongheaded view is a lot more common than it should be, usually voiced by folks like Pat Robertson, the late Jerry Falwell or others blessedly lesser known.

The only problem, Culver says, is that Cameron didn't say the hurricanes were God's punishment. He said we don't know the reason behind them -- other than understanding the basic meteorological processes involved -- and so the best response is a humble acknowledgement of the awesome power involved and a commitment to pray for and help the victims.

Lawrence, on the other hand, is characterized in the Fox News story about her comments as having said that the hurricanes are Mother Nature's wrath against the us for having elected Donald Trump. Now if supernatural beings were in fact punishing the U.S. for things, it's hard to argue that they would just gloss over electing a venomous charlatan to its highest office (TM George Will).

But watching the original interview with Lawrence or reading the quotes from the stories makes it hard to characterize them as "blaming Trump for the hurricanes." There's a connection, but it's pretty round-about. Lawrence suggests that climate change has made hurricanes worse, human beings cause some of the worst of that change and need to take it seriously, but the nation's leader denies such a connection. The fever swamp of outrage in response to his immaturity and shoot from the lip Tweeting is depressing enough. Combine it with the images of devastating flooding and damage and it's all a lot for people to take.

Now, is that the kind of gauzy reasoning one might expect of a 27-year-old asked about subjects on the public radar but a little beyond her expertise? Pretty much. Is it, "Jennifer Lawrence blames hurricanes on nature's wrath over Trump election?" Nope. Not even close enough for horseshoes.

Script doctors are writers brought into a production to fix problem areas or scenes, or occasionally by actors who want a favorite scribe to reconfigure their dialogue into styles they have an easier time working. In the current situation, the popular wisdom is probably that Lawrence and Cameron need script doctors to stop them from crediting physical phenomena to vengeful deities.

Since neither of them really said what the popular wisdom says they did, then the real need for a script doctor is for the media outlets which inexplicably pay attention to what folks of everyday intelligence say about stuff, just because those folks happen to be famous. And then get it wrong.

Friday, September 8, 2017

Lexicographical Rubbish Heap

Stories appear each year that announce new words which make it into the dictionary, but how do dictionaries decide what words to leave out?

There is indeed a process. Online dictionaries don't remove words, since a single entry takes up very little data and you might as well keep everything. That's what search engines are for, after all.

But printed dictionaries sometimes have to, because otherwise even the simplest editions, designed to help students or people learning to speak English as a second language, would get too cumbersome to use. Several categories exist before a word completely disappears, such as notations that it is historical (Now hist.), or even an obsolete (Obs.) term. If a word hasn't been used since about 1930, it gets labeled obsolete and is a prime target for reduction depending on the purpose and scope of a dictionary.

The cutoff is much earlier if the word is an obsolete or compound form of a current word, about 1800. So there goes our hope of never hearing about Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders again. On the other hand, they provide solid job security for the word "carbuncle."

Thursday, September 7, 2017

Vet Messages

Some veterinarians have those marquees with changeable letters and messages, and Bored Panda gathers up a few of them. I think the first one is the funniest (and almost certainly true), while I'm sure there are many dogs who would dispute the last one.

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

All-American Semis

Tomorrow Venus Williams, Sloane Stephens, CoCo Vandeweghe and Madison Keys will play semifinal matches at the U.S. Open tennis tournament, making up the first all-American semi-final in the women's bracket since 1981.

That year, Martina Navratilova -- a native Czech but naturalized American -- beat Chris Evert and Tracy Austin beat Barbara Potter to reach the championship match, which Austin won. It's the first Grand Slam women's semi filled with stars and stripes since 1985.

Some fun -- and patriotic -- tennis on tap!

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Test Pattern

Travelin' Friar. See you tomorrow!

Monday, September 4, 2017

Some Thinkings...Maybe

Edited 9/5/17 to add:

Several news stories point out that Mr. Obama enacted the DACA policy as a temporary measure after several legislative attempts to get a similar policy were defeated in Congress. That sort of mitigates the hits he takes on relying on executive instead of legislative action, but not by much. Before Sen. Edward Kennedy passed away, the president's party enjoyed a supermajority in both houses of Congress. And in any event, it leaves the same problem on the table of trying to do with executive action something that is properly done by legislation.

President Trump announced today that he would end an Obama administration policy called DACA, which stands for Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals. Then-President Obama created the policy in June 2012 to allow illegally immigrating people who were brought to the country as children to receive a deferment from prosecution or possible deportation, and to obtain work permits. The thought process was that even though these people entered the country illegally, they may have done so as infants or young children and had grown up in the United States.

Trump will delay suspending the policy for six months to give Congress time to figure out a way to replace it or to create a policy enacted through legislation. Many people are unhappy with the president's choice.

A popular argument against suspending DACA made among my circle of friends and acquaintances is a religious one. There are several passages in the Old Testament in which the Israelites, now established as a nation after their time in the wilderness, are enjoined to care for people traveling through their land. Much as Jacob's family were cared for in Egypt during a time of famine, so are the Israelites to care for other wanderers. Most of the quotations I've seen generally seem to use the passages correctly, although it's amusing to see the sudden popularity of Leviticus-based legislation among folks who usually don't have much use for its regulations regarding, say, same-sex relationships.

Even so, that argument doesn't convince me. I very much want to see my nation's culture and society reflect Biblical ideas about the worth of persons and how we treat each other, but I balk at the idea of wholesale conversion of such ideas into laws. The problem with a government that tries to draw its legal codes and structure from a religion is that before long it will want the influence to be a two-way street. I am not keen on the people who run the Department of Motor Vehicles also running my church.

One friend posted a Facebook status that said "Letting him (Trump) end DACA is evil and cruel." And here we come to the rocks on which DACA founders.

I'm sympathetic to the idea that people brought illegally over the border in their parents' arms are now, years later, more American than they are anything else. I'm also sympathetic to the idea that people shouldn't pay for other people's crimes. I haven't studied immigration policy nearly closely enough to know the best policy solution for this issue, or what laws should be enacted to carry it out.

But I am sure that whatever solution is created should come from enacted legislation rather than presidential fiat, and that's the problem with DACA as it exists now. A president created it, and a president who thinks differently can end it. Many people point out that ending the policy will expose almost 800,000 people to imprisonment or deportation, but the reason they are so exposed when they had thought themselves safe was that the person who "saved" them didn't, or at least he didn't finish the job.

In our government, the president is charged with executing the laws of our nation. Congress passes those laws. Mr. Obama used his authority to decide not to enforce certain immigration laws against a specific set of people -- children brought here illegally who are now grown. They were thus safe from prosecution while he was president, and would have remained so until a successor decided to enforce those laws. Which is what we have happening now.

My friend may or may not be right that ending DACA is evil and cruel, but because DACA came into being as a presidential whim it can depart in the same way. Mr. Obama probably was and is concerned with how the people affected by DACA are treated and about the problems their situations create for them. But he was not concerned enough to try to get a law enacted that would have made that concern outlast his term. You might say that the timing of the DACA policy, five months before a presidential election, means that it was at its core a cynical grab at Hispanic voters. This would make you more cynical than me, but not very much, because I'm pretty sure that possibility motivated some of the folks in the White House even if not Mr. Obama himself.

Whatever the cause, though, the reality is that from January 20, 2009 to January 5, 2011, Mr. Obama's party controlled the White House and both branches of Congress. Had something like DACA been a high priority, it could have been made into law at any time during those two years. Persons now upset by the end of DACA may blame Mr. Trump for ending it, but they should also blame Mr. Obama for half-assing it in the first place and giving the current president the opening.

Sunday, September 3, 2017


Killjoys was one of the other space opera shows SyFy debuted when network officials in effect "apologized" to science fiction fans for feeding them CGI critters and '80s television stars mired in movies that stretched the definition of "creative idea" to event-horizon levels. Its initial outing was fun although a little light on narrative heft.  It also labored to created its own identity from its dozens of action-show antecedents, not always successfully.

It just finished its third season and SyFy ordered 20 more episodes, to air over two seasons and bring the story to a conclusion.

Killjoys keeps the same strengths it brought in the first season, building on them as showrunners, writers and actors become more and more familiar with their world and their characters. Our three leads are no longer bounty hunters but now work to build an army to thwart the invasion of an alien species called the Hullen. These parasitically bond with human hosts and take over their bodies. The aliens are led by a woman named Aneela who is a dead ringer for our heroine Dutch, and solving that mystery will occupy a large part of their work to find a way to defeat the Hullen.

As before, the show features some really good work by the cast, especially Luke Macfarlane as D'avin Jaqobis. Storylines for the other two leads -- his brother John and Dutch herself -- lean heavily on him and he anchors them well while building his own character too. Aaron Ashmore as John and Hannah John-Kamen as Dutch are good but a notch or two below Macfarlane, and the supporting cast ranges from solid to "able to keep up."

Killjoys is fast and funny, quippy and quick-witted, featuring likeable leads well-supported by the other characters. The acting, as mentioned, is good to very, very good.

And it makes not a lick of sense.

Entire episodes this season wind up as throw-aways, resolving or re-setting characters who haven't mattered yet and won't matter later to the main plot of fighting against the Hullen. Neither the first season's corporate oligarchy nor the second season's shadowy conspiracy nor this season's advancing armada fit together in any kind of solid backdrop against which to project real tension. The image of an onion is often used to evoke the idea that a subject or person is multi-layered, with each outer layer removed revealing a new inner layer. Killjoys is an onion made of smoke, with each removed layer showing nothing more than another impenetrable fog. Showrunners wisely limited each season to 10 episodes apiece, because even the funniest jokes wear thin when that's all that's there.

Sci-fi fandom being what it is and the internet and 2017 being what they are, devotees of the now-canceled Dark Matter have thrown shade on shows the network did renew. But Matter creator Joseph Mallozzi points out that as a SyFy-acquired rather than a SyFy-produced show, Matter's bubble was a little more fragile than the others and it was always going to be the first to go if the network wanted a change. Dark Matter's cancellation didn't make Killjoys a weaker show; it was that already in spite of hints about what it might be if showrunners spent some time connecting all of their pretty moving parts.

But whatever the opinion one has of it, Killjoys now has 20 episodes to see if it can hammer some sense out of its mare's nest of a universe and cure its narrative ADD to bring about the finish that its hardest workers have earned for it.

Saturday, September 2, 2017

Still Under Warranty?

Tuesday NASA will observe the official 40th anniversary of the launch of the two Voyager space probes. Voyager 1 launched Sept. 5, 1977, 16 days after Voyager 2. Even well after finishing their primary missions of data collection about the outer planets of our solar system, the two probes have continued to send information about its outer reaches, crossing into interstellar space in recent years and giving us our first glimpses of what it might be like when we step beyond our neighborhood.

And so it's fitting that the Astronomy Picture of the Day site at NASA gives the dynamic duo their own movie poster, seen below:

Someday we'll probably be able to go out and find those things and check out what they're doing now -- here's hoping it doesn't take another 40 years to figure out how to get there.

Friday, September 1, 2017


What would you do if you had a second chance to be you? Would you be better? Worse? The same? How would you decide?

In SyFy's Dark Matter, that chance is given to six strangers who wake up on board a spaceship with no memory of who they are or how they got there, even though they seem to have retained several aspects of their personalities and skills -- many of which seem to connect to the astonishing variety of weaponry on board with them. Orginally a limited-issue comic book, Dark Matter was a part of SyFy's sudden recollection that science fiction involved more than flying sharks and bad CGI crocodile mutants. It just finished its third season, so this may have mild spoilers for viewers who haven't watched the whole show.

During the course of the first season, the crew of the Raza discovered they almost all had rather colorful pasts, and in bits and pieces began to re-learn their histories. But while they re-acquired factual knowledge about their pasts, they didn't actually regain the experiences, meaning that what had shaped them before didn't shape them now. They were able to respond to situations and circumstances very differently than they had before their memories were wiped because they were now truly new people. At first just a few begin to really explore this concept but eventually they all commit to new paths, even choosing to retain the numbers they gave each other when they awakened instead of using their old names.

At its best, Dark Matter keeps this question at the top of whatever adventure or caper the crew is handling -- who would you be if you didn't have to be you? Over three seasons that issue has fallen a bit lower down on the narrative ladder but the show's strongest episodes keep some focus on it. The exploration is helped by some really good actors in several of the roles, especially Melissa O'Neil as Two, Roger Cross as Six and Anthony Lemke as Three. Jodelle Ferland as Five and Zoie Palmer as the ship's android given a little less to work with but are still very good.

Season Three has some weaknesses, as the former Four, Alex Mallari, Jr., continues his struggle to rule the Zairon Empire as its rightful emperor, Ryo Ishida. He chose to have his memories, stored in the ship's computer, restored as a way of helping him regain his throne. But the turmoil of the court and the corporate war raging across the galaxy make that a harder task than he thought, and Ryo's ruthlessness threatens his former shipmates. Mallari is perfectly fine as a stoic warrior type, but the court intrigue storyline asks more of him than he currently has available in his actor quiver. The strands that weave through him are some of those season three weak moments.

Even so, Dark Matter was one of the network's stronger shows, with strong characters, some witty dialog and a general story arc that, while not perfectly defined, did seem to have some direction.

SyFy announced today (Sept. 1) that it cancelled the show; whether it plans for some kind of movie to resolve the Season 3 cliffhanger is as yet unknown. If we're lucky, this move will leave room for more episodes of Z Nation and Wynonna Earp, which means that much more time to read books.

Thursday, August 31, 2017

BIG Ol' Jet Airliner

As someone who has seen the movie Serenity several times, the first thing that came to my mind when this image popped up?


Actually, it is kind of cool to see a contrail from overhead. Especially when you know it's not crewed by psychotic cannibalistic berserkers.

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Oops Again

I meant to post last week these two entries from the Are You There, God? It's Me, Generation X, where Jennifer shows her own kids enjoying the Aug. 21 eclipse and some pictures from the 1979 edition. The photos and memories make for some interesting contrasts and also show some intriguing similarities.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017


Yesterday I overlooked the centenary of the birth of Jacob Kurtzberg, better known as comic book artist Jack Kirby.

The relentless self-promotion machine that is Stan Lee has never been really clear about Kirby's role in the creation of some of Marvel Comics' iconics characters. They collaborated, but the degree of the load sharing shifts depending on which interview of either man you read.

But even if fully sussing all of this out isn't possible, Kirby's contribution to comic books and comic book storytelling can't be overlooked. There are people who draw comic books and there are artists that create at a more highbrow level. But if an artist is someone who creates a story or a connection with viewers through his or her own distinctive style, then Kirby is indeed a comic book artist.

His characters weren't particularly realistic but clearly carried a message of power and might. Kirby's eye dreamed up fantastic visual worlds, such as Thor's Asgard or the star-spanning sprawl of the New Gods worlds. Kirby's drawings make clear that a hero who doesn't show forth in some way as larger than life isn't much of a hero at all.

Monday, August 28, 2017

Service Interrupted?

The end of the next-to-last season of HBO's Game of Thrones series brought forth a number of analysis pieces suggesting that the show has degraded in quality even while it's skyrocketed in popularity. Some suggest that since the showrunners are now out ahead of George R.R. Martin's book series they lack his directing mind and are simply unable to produce work of the quality that Martin himself produced.

Different writers offer several reasons, but the main one seems to be the idea that the showrunners spent a lot of time in season seven on what's called "fan service," where they directed narrative strands towards what the show's fan base wants to see. Characters pair up, characters die, events happen, and all of it rests less on narrative logic and more on giving people what they want.

Of course, that's certainly possible. But most of those making the complaint suggest that the storyline should have gone different ways than it did. In other words, the problem isn't the idea of fan service itself so much as it's which fans got their service. I've never watched the show, but I have watched the clip of young Bella Ramsey kicking some major behind with her speech as Lyanna Mormont in season six, episode 10. Since I'm not a fan I won't ask for service, but if I did it would be to give her the dragons and the throne and everyone else get the heck out of her way. Which would also make the show over with quicker, and I can't complain about that.

Either way, the current loose schedule has the show wrapping up sometime in late 2018 or early 2019 (they need winter weather in order to have enough snow for the wintertime setting of the current episodes, and so won't start shooting until late this year). It may finish before Martin releases Winds of Winter, currently projected as the second-to-last of the "Song of Ice and Fire" series. It'll certainly end before he publishes A Dream of Spring, which he -- for now -- says will be the final SOIAF novel.

So every day is one day closer to not having to hear about this show anymore, and even if it won't get finished at a Lyanna Mormont pace that's not bad at all, I guess.

Sunday, August 27, 2017

I've Got a Bad Feeling About This...

Coming soon to a theater near you: Wicked Wicket: A Star Wars Story. In which the brave and formidable Ewok warrior turns to the Dark Side when an evil Sith Lord promises him working eyelids, an actual digestive tract and...other benefits.
Int. night. A ROOM carved into one of the gigantic trees on the Forest Moon of ENDOR. A torch flickers in one wall, and the DOOR opens. LEIA is seated on a bench in the room, and sighs when WICKET the EWOK enters.
Leia: Wicket? You're back! But I told you, it can never work between us; I'm a human and you're an Ewok. We're not...compatible.
WICKET steps closer and winks at LEIA.
Leia: My goodness! Your face can move? There's something different about you, isn't there? Something's...changed you!"
An actual smile appears on WICKET's face, and one eyebrow rises suggestively.  He moves closer to LEIA. Cut to LEIA's face as she glances downwards and gasps.
Wicket (languidly): Nub nub.
LEIA shakes her head no, and smiles seductively.
Leia: Doesn't look like it to me. They embrace.
Cut to a closeup of LUKE SKYWALKER, frowning.
Luke: I sense a disturbance in the Force...
Sounds very stupid, but since someone out there is floating the idea of Boba Fett and Yoda movies -- and apparently chatter on fan boards suggests a Jabba the Hutt movie -- I figured I'd get my oar in the water early.

There are currently eight Star Wars movies out now, with two more coming in the next nine months. Exactly half of those are worth watching a second time, and of those four only one -- Rogue One -- is outside of the original trilogy. I'd love to be proven wrong, but I can't imagine that either The Last Jedi, due out in December, or next May's standalone Han Solo movie are going to be added to that list.

The only person I can imagine who really really wants a Boba Fett solo movie is George Lucas, because it would get him off the hook for Stupidest Thing in Star Wars History, the creation of Jar Jar Binks. And if that don't scare you, meesa got no hope for you.

Saturday, August 26, 2017

Give My Regards

On the Twisted Sifter photo blog, you can see a bigger version of the below picture, a colorized view of an early 20th century scene on New York City's Broad Street.

In addition to the colorized work by Sanna Dullaway, you can also see a Google Street View of the way that section of Broad Street looks today.

The modern shot must have been on a quiet day; the older photo seems a good deal livelier...

Friday, August 25, 2017


A couple of days ago I called out ESPN as being unbelievably dumb for removing a football announcer because of his name. The game involved the University of Virginia, recently the site of some tragic unpleasantness, and the announcer's name was Robert Lee. ESPN suggested that they had discussed the matter with Lee -- who is an American of Chinese descent -- and had offered to let him switch games to avoid mockery because his name resembled that of Confederate general Robert E. Lee.

While I still think ESPN's explanation is so much horsehide, I have changed my mind about the removal of sports broadcasters based on how closely their names resemble soldiers who fought for the Confederacy during the Civil War. Someone posted a link to this page, and I call it to Fox Sports' immediate attention.

Or if not immediate, at least before the next World Series.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

Participatory Problem

Today's Sherman's Lagoon demonstrates that not every role in a class project is the same; some can be a little rougher than others:

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Appearing for the Defense

With five seasons of shows about the individual members under its belt, the Marvel-Netflix partnership last week brought out their team-up event, combining its four "street-level" heroes into a team (sort of) in The Defenders. It's got some really neat stuff in its eight episodes, but winds up aiming higher than it hits.

Luke Cage is back in Harlem after finishing his prison sentence, ready to try to help the people of his neighborhood better their lives. Jessica Jones is not exactly functional several months after dealing with the evil Kilgrave, but has taken the case of a wayward architect. Matt Murdock is throwing himself into his legal work and trying to rebuild a life without the red suit and vigilantism of "the Devil of Hell's Kitchen," Daredevil. And the Immortal Iron Fist Danny Rand, spurred by the last words of a dying man, has tracked the agents of the Hand to New York City. None of the four are keen on working together, and at least a couple of them aren't into the idea of fighting the Hand at all. But they will, because right now they are the only defense New York City has with any hope of stopping the Hand's destructive plans.

One knock against all of the single-hero shows was that the seasons were too long at 13 episodes apiece, stuffed with filler that slowed or even derailed their stories. Defenders clocks in at a breezy eight episodes, a good change that helps it quite a bit. It still needs a significant trim, but what's annoying filler over eight shows would have been deadly to 13. It carries some of the individual shows' flaws forward as well -- Finn Jones as Danny Rand seems to have taken acting lessons from Mark Hamill (and several scenes recall those of Hamill's most famous role) in that he can do breezy action and bravado pretty well but his "intense" manner is really just grating. Élodie Yung as Elektra still can't sell her character swerves from dark to light, and way too much of the narrative hangs on what Danny and Elektra do and don't do and why. Neither of them really lets us know those things; they're not bad but nowhere near good enough to overcome the holes the script leaves them.

Kristyn Ritter as Jessica, Charlie Cox as Matt and Mike Colter as Luke all handle their material better. Ritter is still written as a slightly less warped version of Eliza Dushku's Buffy character Faith and Colter isn't given enough to do, but they work out better. A lot of the time spent sitting around the police station listening to New York cops saying "You need to tell me what's going on" should have been spent letting Jessica and Matt play off their mutual perceptive abilities or letting Luke explore how his paternal character might influence the orphaned and privileged billionaire Danny. Colleen Wing, Danny's partner and a legitimately badass fighter in her own right, is relegated to the sidekick pen for too much of the second half of the series. Sigourney Weaver as Alexandria is chilling as the main driver of the Hand and its leader, but her front and center role through the first two thirds of the episodes fizzles out in the last two.

The Defenders' visuals may be the thing that saves the series from being the train wreck the script and cast weaknesses steer it towards. Cinematographers Matthew Lloyd and Jim McMillan's creative use of color helps bridge a lot of narrative gaps, and 4th episode director Phil Abraham and 5th episode director Uta Briesewitz offer clinics on how to make the most use of the tools that the script and the cast give you, also playing a lot with color, visuals, and scenes without dialog.

Whether the Marvel-Netflix project brings a second Defenders team-up to light is yet to be seen; next up is Jon Bernthal's The Punisher series and then each of the Defenders' primaries has their own season of shows on tap. But this season should show the company that fewer episodes can certainly be better. And maybe future crew can learn from the way Lloyd, McMillan, Abraham and Briesewitz take seriously the visual dimension of the comic book medium as a way of communicating story, and be able to use it to amplify a strong script instead of salvage a mediocre one.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Well That Was Quick

I saw several friends say how social media posts and news stories all day yesterday were focused not on hateful people and actions, or goofball politicians or whatnot, but on an amazing natural phenomenon, and how nice it was.

One day that lasted, and then ESPN hits peak stupid.

I've come to think of the 21st century as the "Hold My Beer Era," because whenever it seems like someone has done something so dumb it can't be topped someone else comes along, asks us to take said beverage and goes, "Challenge accepted."

Monday, August 21, 2017

Big Ol' Jet Airliner

There were a lot of cool pictures taken during today's eclipse of the sun, which had a totality path observable across a nice little stripe of the United States. Some of them were planned out well in advance, and some were not.

One of the ones that wasn't was the below by Kirsten Jorgensen, who was about ready to stop shooting when she saw a plane headed across the sky, and caught the image at exactly the right moment:

You can find the original at her Instagram page here.

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Neither Rain Nor Sleet Nor Depth of Sea...

Although a couple more underwater mailboxes have popped up around the world, the post office box at Vanuatu lays claim to being the first such operation. It's 10 feet beneath the surface, about 160 feet from land, and is an actual post office box that will receive your special waterproof plastic postcard, marked with a special embosser so the postmark ink won't smear.

If you want to do the real experience, you have to snorkel, dive or hold your breath long enough to go below and float your card into the slot. Or you can ask someone able to do those things to drop it off for you. (There's also a land-based box for the wimps).

Then, at 3 PM each day, the mail is collected from the box to be sent off to its destination. The local post office used to train its folks to scuba dive so they could pick it up themselves, but found it easier to enlist the aid of local dive masters who could pick the mail up for them.

The story at Smithsonian says that the box in Malaysia is 130 feet below the water, which is the maximum depth for a certified, experienced recreational scuba diver using tanks with normal compressed air.

And it would seem that the most unsurprising thing about this whole idea is its origin: The local postmaster and a resort owner whipped it up over drinks.

Saturday, August 19, 2017

Dig Straight Through to...Where Are We Again?

The saying is "Dig a hole clear to China," with the idea that China is on the opposite side of the world from us.

But as you can learn by having fun on this online "Antipodean Map" page, China is actually not directly on the other side of the world from the United States. "Antipodes" is the name for two points that are directly opposite each other on a solid object. New Zealand and Australia are called that because when they were first discovered by Europeans, they were considered to be "the other side of the world."

Someone who wanted to dig a hole through the Earth and come up in China would have to do two things:

1) Figure out how to survive the incredible heat and pressure of the Earth's core, and

2) Start in South America

Almost any straight line from the continental U.S. directly though the center of the Earth will wind up in the Indian Ocean. We have almost no antipodean land, in fact. Granada, CO, is the antipodes for the Íle Amsterdam, about halfway between Madagascar and Australia. It's home to a research station with about 30 workers who rotate on and off. Íle Saint-Paul, about 50 miles away and even smaller, is the antipodes for Cheyenne Wells, CO. Its research facility is not even permanently staffed.

Until someone fixes that whole temperature (just shy of 10,000º F) and pressure (3,600,000 atmospheres) thing, though, it'd probably make more sense to fly or take a boat.

Friday, August 18, 2017

The Law and the Jungle

There's a legislature that has a rat problem. Doesn't narrow the field much, does it?

This legislature is the British Parliament and the rat problem is literal, as in members of ye olde genus Rattus scampering about offices, break rooms and cafeterias. A member of parliament brought four cats to address the matter but health and safety officials banned them -- demonstrating that even with that beautiful British diction, bureaucrats are unable to grasp facts with either hands or their feeble minds. Because several other government offices do allow cats to live on the premises and provide sharp, pointed arguments to Mickey's uglier cousins why they should relocate.

Some might say the bureaucrats are on the rats' side, sensing a kinship. This uncharitable suggestion insults at least one of the groups involved.

It's possible that the bureaucrats are worried about the example cats would set. They are seen to spend a great deal of their time sleeping but would probably accomplish their task nonetheless, after hours being an excellent time to present one's threats and ultimatums to the scurrilous scurriers with the proper level of bloodthirsty rending. By comparison, bureaucrats are usually very industrious while accomplishing next to nothing, and should the cats succeed in their mission some might wonder why those possessing opposable thumbs seem unable to do so as well.

The cats, of course, would not wonder. They would simply take a nap until another twitchy little nose tried to poke itself into the hallowed halls of the Palace of Westminster and then resume their work.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

All Is Not Lost?

Major League Baseball Commissioner Rob Manfred has said he doesn't see umpiring for his sport as a field amenable to automation. Which means no robot umpires.

Which means there are still limits to the dumbness of the changes that Manfred is willing to tolerate, despite evidence to the contrary.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Lines Around the Block

I know what you're thinking -- you see this Washington Post story about a company that offers to pay people to stand in line -- only if they're cool enough.

And you're saying, Friar, there's nothing about that for you. You are nowhere near cool enough to be selected to stand in line and be one of the beautiful people that draws in other people.

Au contraire, Faithful Reader. I am in fact way too cool to stand in line for something I wouldn't do unless someone paid me. Wait, what, you may ask?

You're not cool enough to know.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Petard, Hoist!

This item from the BBC News, ironically in its arts and entertainment section, notes something interesting about the dying magazine industry: Some of it seems not to be dying.

Writer Stephen McIntosh looked at a recent magazine and circulation report in England and found that news and news/opinion magazines like The Economist and The Spectator showed sales increases. Other similar publications also had some bumps, even factoring in things like paywalls for some online articles and other web-based content.

The people McIntosh talked to suggest that the rise of quickly-disseminated general news -- sometimes too quickly, in a fashion that has to be walked back or which proves later to be inaccurate -- means that people also want to have some analysis and context to help understand the blizzard of data thrown their way. Publications that can produce that get readers, and if they can make their content good enough, then they can get readers who will pay for it.

Celebrity, gossip and fashion mags, though, are still seeing sales slumps. I've got no opinion on the value of fashion magazines, but there seems little downside in the reduction of celebrity and gossip outlets. The slump's probably only worth one or two cheers, though, rather than three, since the content moves out of the checkout line and onto everyone's phones.

The one or two cheers comes because these particular organs have long been invested in things that turn out to be ephemeral or are of interest only because the people doing them have been in movies or television. A guy starts an affair at work and winds up leaving his wife for the other woman, but a few years later it turns out he's not that great a catch for her either. It happens all the time and if everyone involved lives in a trailer no one but those affected care much about it. But if those involved are named Jennifer, Brad and Angelina, well, then stop the press! We now even have celebrities who are famous for no reason whatsoever, who all seem to be named Kardashian or Jenner.

Having nailed their colors to the mast of ephemera, these folks now find themselves adrift because the ephemera has found a medium much better suited to it: The here-today-gone-in-20-minutes world of online celebrity gossip.

McIntosh notes that Vogue magazine recently did a large photo spread and interview with Jennifer Lawrence, a very good young actress who has been interesting before and may be again. But since all of the content went up online before the issue hit the stands or subscribers' hands, they took away any reason to actually buy the magazine. They're caught between offering enough online content to create buzz but keeping the free stuff at a low enough level that there's still a reason to pay for the rest. It's hard, though to feel sorry for publications that have trafficked in the least appealing aspects of the lives of people who just want to act, or sing, or live out their muse in some other way.

Whether the bump in news magazine sales is an actual long-term upward trend or just a bump has yet to be seen. But if the slide in the others' sales is a trend as well, then we can only hope the celebrity and gossip website will follow its path someday.

Monday, August 14, 2017

Truth With Pictures!

Just gonna let Mr. Opus do the talkin...

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Faster Than Superfluid Helium...

I've often said that one the reasons I blog is because it lets me pretend I am Mike Royko.

Another reason is the opportunity I have to write, every now and again, about quark-gluon plasma. For some reason, this particular substance, existing only under the most extreme conditions in particle accelerators, is as much fun to type as it is to say, and occasionally during the blog's 9.5 years of existence something about it has crossed my path.

Today it's an article from Physics World, which reports that quark-gluon plasma has set a record as the fastest-rotating liquid yet created. The plasma is created when gold ions are fired into each other at great energies, and then the quarks that make up the ions become "deconfined," which means they break down into individual quarks instead of making up larger subatomic particles. The gluons that hold them together also break apart, and the substance that results is a state of matter called "plasma."

Since we're talking about amazingly small bits of matter, the collisions are usually at an angle, so the plasma starts out with a high rate of rotation. Scientists measure the speed by seeing what gets thrown off the glob of plasma as it spins.

The previous record holder for spin velocity was something called superfluid helium, which is a peculiar liquid-ish state of that gas reached when it is cooled to almost absolute zero. It has zero viscosity (the measure of how "thick" a liquid is -- pancake syrup has greater viscosity than water, for example), so it can spin up a vortex at 107 rotations per second. Quark-gluon plasma, by comparison, creates a vortex that spins at 1022 rotations per second. A tornado about 60 yards wide with 300-mph winds spins at about three-fourths of a revolution per second.

Cosmologists think that the universe, right after the Big Bang, was a lot like quark-gluon plasma until it cooled down enough for subatomic particles like protons and electrons to form, so they want to learn about it and see what it can tell us about that very early universe. It may even be able to explain the electoral victories of Donald Trump and Elizabeth Warren.

Or maybe not. There's only so much one can ask of a substance, no matter how cool its name is.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

The Long View

The folks at Bored Panda compiled some very interesting long-exposure pictures seen at different photography sites around the internet, These shots are made by keeping the camera shutter open and allowing the single frame to "see" things move instead of just capturing one static image.

Although I shot a few of these kinds of pictures -- some inadvertently -- when I worked for the newspaper, I was shooting with regular film. I'm not 100% sure how the technique works with digital photography without the image just turning into a video. But someone obviously knows, and thus we have some cool stuff like this:

Don't know why California is spending stacks of cash on high-speed rail when it appears that Budapest already has warp-drive technology on its trains.

Friday, August 11, 2017

Darkness Falls Across the Land

From the time machine, Uncle Walter talking about something that's going to happen just a few days from now,  a full eight years after his death:

1979 Total Solar Eclipse TV News Report from Michael Kentrianakis on Vimeo.

The interesting thing will be seeing if the nightly newscast report of the eclipse coming August 21 will be anywhere near four and a half minutes long. Broadcast news attention spans are a whole lot shorter these days.

Thursday, August 10, 2017


Now in his seventh outing with the enigmatic Victor the assassin, Tom Wood is starting to write himself into a bit of a corner. On the one hand, if he leaves Victor as a completely amoral killing machine who never changes, then he's stuck writing the same book over and over.  Even with Wood's skills, that's going to wear out not long after the half-dozen mark -- Andrew Vachss' career criminal Burke changed little and became repetitive, going downhill after book #8 with an exception or two.

But if Victor grows as a character and regains his humanity or develops a conscience, then eventually he's going to get to a place where he doesn't want to stay as a pure killer for hire and the series hits a stop, like Barry Eisler's John Rain. Mark Greaney seems so far to have crossed this divide with his Gray Man series, but he's only one book into the rehabbed version of his killer for hire, so we have to wait and see.

The other alternative is to go forward and then back up, which is unsatisfying and unfortunately the choice Wood makes in The Final Hour as he puts Victor back on a collision course with Raven, the female assassin he was uneasily allied with in The Darkest Day. Victor finds himself with a much higher profile than he likes, especially as it concerns people with the desire and ability to end his career and his life. So he decides to go as far underground as possible with a permanent solution -- have Raven kill him and then he can sink far enough below the radar to re-establish himself.

Naturally, it's not that simple, because Raven has her own share of enemies with whom she has to deal, and before the story winds up, both predators could find themselves each other's prey into the bargain.

Wood's smooth style is as elegant as ever; although this is most definitely a rough-and-tumble adventure narrative he never falls back into stodgy action-writer prose or techno-babble. But in addition to the above-mentioned hurry up and slow down problem, the situations Victor and Raven face quite obviously have more layers, waiting for subsequent novels to be uncovered. That's fine in itself, but it leaves Hour murkier than it should be. If those later books furnish the confrontation it sets up, that will help the series out in that area, but Wood will still need to figure out how to keep his character's arc from flatlining.
Jonathan Grave succeeds at his hostage rescue missions because he doesn't let anything else get in the way of the goal of getting the PC ("Precious Cargo") away from danger and back to safety. Other people, other issues are not his concern, no matter what he may feel about their situations. So even though something's gone wrong with the mission to rescue a kidnapped federal agent in Final Target, he's got backup plans and he and his partner "Boxers" won't have any great trouble getting out of the mess they're in.

Until he runs into the orphanage with a bunch of kids and Grave realizes he's the only chance they have of escaping torture and death at the hands of the local drug lord pursuing Grave, Boxers and their rescued hostage. If the kids don't go with him, they'll all die. But if they do, then they might still die, only they'll bring the three men down with them.

In this 9th Grave novel, Gilstrap has a good handle on the roles his characters play in their adventures. Grave and Boxers quip and snipe at each other, Boxers sees an uncomplicated black-and-white world where anything he doesn't think is his problem isn't his problem, Grave often doubts himself over the lines he's crossed and violence he's committed in the names of his various missions. The action set pieces hold their tension and keep the novel's pace nice and quick, and the plot hangs together through the required suspense thriller twists.

Target is more or less an extended chase scene, with some interludes back in Washington, D.C. as Grave's other team members try to unravel the mystery of the snafus that started this mess. Although sometimes the physical goals and the different groups involved get a little fuzzy, the presence of the orphans offers a new wrinkle that makes Target one of the stronger entries in the Grave series.
The first four Myron Bolitar novels were mostly fun romps that touched the sports agent turned crime solver and opened up some old doors in his past but never left any real new marks. But 1998's One False Move left him broken personally and professionally, so 1999's The Final Detail finds Myron on the beach. Literally, on a remote Caribbean island with a woman he's just met. No one, including his business partners and his family, know where he is. But when his friend Win sails up to the beach in a yacht, Myron knows there's trouble he can't run from any more.

The trouble is the murder of one of Myron's clients, Clu Haid, and the arrest of his business partner, Esperanza Diaz, for the crime. Esperanza has hired an attorney herself and won't let Win or Myron even try to help her. But Myron can't stay away and begins his own investigation, even though it becomes clear through the arc of the story that he is not yet back to his old self. His judgment and thinking still impaired, Myron may find himself not only the target of a police investigation but also of the forces that targeted Clu -- who won't be satisfied at just arresting him.

Coben uses his complicated story to begin to try to grow Myron up a bit -- his willingness to cross legal and ethical lines in pursuit of what he considers justice has consequences, and he begins to see them the more he looks at things in front of him as well as those in his past. Although the tone remains fast and funny, deploying both quips and quirky characters at a rapid pace, Coben opens up the consequences of the kinds of action Myron has taken and tries to move his characters deeper into a universe with actual morality and context. It's murkily done, as Myron's self-doubt veers close to moping and as a villain asserts a moral privilege that most of the rest of the book has said is in no way warranted.

Detail marked a different direction for the Bolitar books as Coben tried to mix the upbeat swashbuckling of Myron and Win's earlier work with some darker and more poignant themes. He had mixed success with the new recipe, hitting some very high notes but also some serious clunkers. As an early step on the new path, Detail isn't firm enough yet to be either, and winds up a middling outing with the world's only crime-solving sports agent.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

R-r-r-r-rings Have R-r-r-r-ridges!

At least, Saturn's do, as shown by this photo from the Cassini spacecraft.

When one of Saturn's tiny nearby moons is in a certain position related to the rings, then it affects how dense is the material that makes them up. The regular orbits of the moon produce alternating dense and less dense areas of the ring, but I blame Donald Trump.

No, I don't. I blame Hillary Clinton.

OK, not really. I blame neither of them. At least not for this.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Pickin, Pickin & Grinnin

There were a lot of great guitar videos to choose from to honor Glen Campbell on the event of his passing today at 81. Any of the "Dueling Banjos" clips, whether from 1973 with Carl Jackson or 2012 with his daughter Ashley. The "William Tell Overture" clips, either with the full orchestral accompaniment or just a backing band. A ton more, and not hard to find.

But since Campbell often had to war against the perception of him as a goofball country bumpkin, I picked this one where he is paired with another fantastic string-slinger generally thought of as more doofus than musician, Roy Clark.

Watch the fingers fly!

Monday, August 7, 2017

Test Pattern

Lots of road time today. On the upside, I had a Coke Zero that inspired me to rebel against the rule of an unjust king:

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Ah, the Sound

When the crack of a bat is followed by the roar of a crowd realizing that this ball could...go...all...the...way!

That's a mighty fine sound right there, my friends.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

Test Pattern

Attempting to write a post, but the local power co-op flinches at lightning and everything keeps blinking out. Trying again tomorrow.

Friday, August 4, 2017

Parents Just Don't Understand

In today's Calvin and Hobbes reprint, we see yet another example of the rule-bound establishment thwarting the imagination of a young scientist and attempting to keep hidden the impact of his diligent research and experimentation.

Thursday, August 3, 2017

Not Even James Bond...

... could make an AMC Hornet look cool. But the one he tried it in is up for auction, just the same.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

No Sparkling Allowed

Apparently the movie Lost Boys was a bigger deal for some people than I thought, because I've seen a ton of 30-year tributes to the mullets-and-mousse vampire movie that had probably the most fun with ye olde nosferatu of any movie until Buffy and her pals showed up.

I mostly remembered it as my introduction to Australian rocker Jimmy Barnes, who joined with INXS on "Good Times," a cover song included in the movie's soundtrack. A quickie video spliced some movie scenes into an earlier performance clip of the band and Barnes playing the tune. I may be mistaken, but it's just possible the fellows had consumed some good ol' Aussie lager or similar beverage before filming.

The post title, of course, is a reference to whatever the heck those things in the Twilight movies were supposed to be. No self-respecting stake would want to be wasted on one of them.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

What The?

Imagine you spent four or so years enrolled in a program to study journalism. You took classes that helped you sharpen your writing, and taught you some of the ins and outs of interviewing and how to get the information a news story needed to have. You learned how to make sure that you covered all of the bases in a story, not skipping details that you knew but your readers might not.

So you get out and eventually you wind up with a job at the Boston Globe. That's a top tier, old-line newspaper that often breaks stories with national implications. You're not in New York City, but you're in a place where Stuff Happens, and you are one of the people charged with making sure folks know about it.

Then you pitch a story about how counties in the path of this month's total eclipse of the sun voted mostly for Donald Trump for president.

What ought to happen is one of two things. Maybe you wake up and realize in sobriety's cold early light that just because something sounded good when you were drunk doesn't mean it would sound good in the real world, so you keep it to yourself and save a lot of embarrassment. Or you actually go through with it and you find all of the money and time you've invested in your journalism education and career doesn't keep the editor from laughing at you like you walked in front of the Queen with your fly down.

But this being 2017 and Donald Trump being the sum total of all evil in the eyes of many, you get permission to write and run the story. Of course, you quickly find out there's really no story so you have to pad like hell with non sequitirs and old news, but that doesn't matter because it gives you a chance to get in some swipes at the president.

And so you wind up with this, little knowing that at some point in the future when the Boston Globe is either dead or a supermarket shopper given away free at Roche Brothers, your story will be what someone writes on its tombstone.