This is about Star Trek. Superficially, judging by my title, you might think that Trek-related misconceptions are a pet peeve. Nothing could be further from the truth, because if you truly lack any misconceptions, you'll have no reason to read my blog.
Anyway:
The Actors Love It
Or at the very least, they like it a great deal.
It's easy to think that actors don't like being typecast. George Takei (Sulu) said as much in a cameo on The Big Bang Theory where he portrayed a figment of Trek-fan Wolowitz's imagination ("You try and stretch as an actor... but all they want is, 'Course laid in, Captain!' ") Worse than typecasting is being identified as one's character. Leonard Nimoy went so far as to publish a 1977 autobiography titled I Am Not Spock.
But such is the hazard of acting fame, regardless of genre. And if it's slightly more pronounced with Star Trek, it only translates to more fame and more opportunities. You could fill an entire wiki with post-Trek acting and directing credits for former cast members.
More importantly, they get it-- "it" being the message and broad theme of Star Trek, Roddenberry's original vision of a successful future for humanity. Nearly every Star Trek actor ever interviewed speaks in glowing terms about the message of hope and their pride at being associated with such. In one of his autobiographies, William Shatner waxed nostalgic at being the celebrity du jour among NASA engineers in the heyday of lunar exploration. He understands Star Trek's role as an inspiration to scientists and engineers.
As for Nimoy's identity crisis, he followed his earlier work with a 1995 volume titled I Am Spock, telling how he'd come to terms with-- and even embraced-- the character identification. He also realized how much input he, as an actor, had on the character's development. And speaking of Spock...
Vulcans and Androids Do Have Emotions
If you've seen the 2009 Trek reboot, you already know this about Vulcans, having seen the young Spock lose control of his anger. You're probably thinking Data is covered by his emotion chip that he acquired after the death of Dr. Soong.
Yeah, yeah. But that's not what I'm talking about.
Even pre-chip Data and Vulcans in their most coldly logical state are emotional entities. Such is evident from the fact that they don't flop over, lay on the ground and wait to die.
Deliberate action is a means to an end. That an end is aimed at implies the existence of an alternative, and a variance in satisfaction among possible outcomes. The existence of satisfaction implies emotion.
Q.E.D.
More prosaically, the absence of superficial fear, anger, lust, etc. does not exclude the presence of less flamboyant emotions. Commander Data wants to understand humanity better. That's emotion. He has a desire to serve and advance Starfleet, and to see his comrades safe and happy. Spock, like other Vulcans, wants to advance science and peace. He wants intelligent beings to live long and prosper. He wants to seek out new life and new civilizations, to go boldly where no one has gone before. These are admirable emotions, true, but emotions nonetheless.
Picard or Kirk?
Ah, the great debate of the 20th century. Captain Kirk is a swashbuckling hero, and the eponymous face of Trek. Captain Picard is the smooth diplomat, and portrayed by (arguably) the best actor in any Trek series, Patrick Stewart.
But, really, Captain Benjamin Sisko from Deep Space Nine beats them both.
Kirk was notorious for getting into sloppy, 60's-style fist fights, and beat up his fair share of humans & aliens. Sisko matches that at the very least, having taken on both Klingons and the dreaded Jem'hadar.
Kirk also had a bad habit of encountering God-like aliens who had to be tricked or cajoled into leaving the Enterprise alone. Captain Sisko, on the other hand, spent the entire series with the "Prophets" (a.k.a. "Wormhole Aliens") in his head, was forced to serve as their Emissary to the Bajorans, and eventually had to serve as their surrogate in defeating their evil counterparts, the Pah Wraiths.
Now let's talk about diplomacy and juggling various people/interests/things.
Captain Picard was pretty darned good at making diplomatic overtures to the enemies and mysterious entities encountered by his ship. But Picard had no challenges on the ship. The slightly touchy, potentially violent Klingon, Lieutenant Worf, was perfectly obedient; and if there was ever a personal problem with Worf, it was Commander Riker who handled it. The slightly quirky, potentially annoying android, Commander Data, was even more reliable; and, again, his quirks were the responsibility of someone other than Picard-- in this case, Lt. Commander LaForge.
Captain Sisko, on the other hand, was placed in command of a space station that wasn't even part of Starfleet-- it was owned by the Bajorans! Half his crew, including his first officer, were Bajoran, and if such were generally supportive, there were more Bajorans on the nearby planet (e.g., Kai Winn) who despised his presence and plotted against him. Sisko had to placate and/or cajole and/or bully the greedy, scheming Ferengi on the station, frequent Klingon war allies, Romulan allies, Cardassians with suspicious intentions, various factions on Bajor, and-- of course-- those extratemporal Prophets.
Sisko had to do this while none of the aforementioned groups was under his command.
And he did it all while raising a kid as a single father.
Top that, Picard.
Trekkers Are Not Geeks
Because...
No, I can't back that up. But it brings me to my last point...
It's All About the Fans More Than the Shows
Young people often look at Star Trek and wonder: "What's the big deal?"
After all, the science fiction is nowhere near as good as 2001: A Space Odyssey. The action doesn't come close to Star Wars. The only Trek series with a solid, continuous storyline is Deep Space Nine, which is not nearly as highly regarded as The Original Series or Next Generation, and none of these come close to something like Firefly.
But back in the late 60's and early 70's, Star Trek was the only Sci-Fi game in town. And thus it was born as the standard-bearer and the rallying point for all kinds of people: scientists, engineers, technology enthusiasts, and those who simply wanted to share a fantasy universe that had been given life on television.
The standard-- and the cliché-- endures. If a movie or television show wants to portray a character as nerdy, that character shows off his knowledge of Star Trek. And in the 21st century world of high technology, geek is the new chic. Star Trek is a matter of identity. Heck, it's not even my favorite show, but I've been known to memorize a few obscure facts just to show off my geekiness.
Thus those famed Star Trek conventions did not draw ravening hordes to suck up souvenirs and reenact the show. The fans came to be with each other.
My own conventional experience centers on a Trek-based trading card game, one that's taken on a life of its own. Some players are only marginal Star Trek fans, and no small number have become fans via the game. But the community of players is relatively small compared to something like Magic: The Gathering, so we travel great distances, often at considerable expense, to play in tournaments. Why? Why not pick up a more popular game? It's the people. It's a game that attracts, even demands, a high level of interest, involvement, and intelligence. It's the experience of flying across the country to spend a weekend with thirty complete strangers who feel like thirty old friends.
Live Long and Prosper,
Jason
Post Script: What the hell, auto spell-checker? You don't have "Bajoran" or "Starfleet" or "Picard" in the dictionary? At least it recognized "Klingon". Premise holds. Trek rules.
Showing posts with label Jason Drake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jason Drake. Show all posts
02 February 2012
23 January 2012
Something-something Monday: Five Questions for You
English Wikipedia was blacked out last Wednesday in protest of the pending SOPA legislation. No doubt this prompted some of you socially responsible-type people to read up on the issue, discuss it with colleagues, and perhaps contact your congressional representative.
But that's not me. I spent the day wondering who would answer all of my important questions in a post-wikipedia apocalypse. I thirst for knowledge, and a quick look at my own browser history shows how incredibly enlightened my curiosity is: Which of the Valar created the dwarves? What can I learn about Halloween within 45 seconds that will make my web comment sound intelligent? When did Worf arrive on Deep Space Nine? Is Danica McKellar already married?
These questions, of course, have already been answered (Aulë, a vague reference to Samhain coupled with the implication that I have strong opinions about Pope Gregory III, Season Four, and, sadly, yes).
But as a contingency against future disaster, I've decided to do something of a dry run and test my ability to get answers without Wikipedia. So here's what's on my mind today:
Can you cook an egg in the oven?
Obviously, you can break open an egg and dump its innards into a cake or whatever and cook that in an oven. But what if you want a scrambled egg and, like me, don't have a stove? For that matter, what about a whole egg? Can I wrap one in aluminum foil and stick it in my toaster oven? Is that a stupid question? Was that a stupid question?
Did they wear sunglasses a thousand years ago? Why not?
I know from previous research that some form of magnifying/corrective glasses have been around since at least medieval times (I saw a bespectacled monk or something in a movie), and handheld lenses for even longer.
I'm a night owl-- I work the graveyard shift-- and even indirect sunlight bothers me. Surely the Classical-era peasants who worked overnights to stock Roman grocery stores where of similar disposition, and I can't imagine humanity just got by squinting for thousands of years.
And when you think about it, blocking out a portion of light has to be much easier than refocusing it. It would surely be worth the effort if you were planning to fight a battle in the daytime (which I know-- again, thanks to movies-- was the normal modus operandus, unless there was a fire-breathing dragon involved). I suppose an ancient general could've handed out veils, but then his soldiers would look like escapees from the nearest harem. Not very manly.
Is there something like a Hippocratic Oath for lawyers? Shouldn't there be?
By 'Hippocratic Oath', of course, I do not mean the Hippocratic Oath at all (it says something about helping whomever is in need), but the rule that says "first, do no harm". I don't know what that's called. See where I am without Wikipedia?
At any rate, there should be a #1 rule for lawyers that says "first, tell no lies". Seriously. I'm not advocating that we revoke the tradition of attorney-client privilege and expect them to reveal everything they've discussed. Rather, I want to overturn the paradigm whereby an attorney considers it his ethical duty to serve his client at the expense of right. So if a suspect tells his lawyer, "Yeah, I killed the guy. Help me get away with it", then the lawyer should say, "I recommend you confess; otherwise I'll recuse myself, you'll get a new lawyer, and you'll have to make up lies on your own without coaching."
I'm not under the delusion that all lawyers would comply. But it would be nice to at least acknowledge a professional ethic that doesn't allow them to condone, encourage, or assist with dishonesty.
What's the deal with foul balls?
A good, solid hit-- what the batter is normally attempting-- results in a line drive. Base hit.
A total whiff results in a strike.
If we apply a simple continuum, then a foul ball is the next worst thing (you barely made contact). So why does that earn you more pitches, whereas a pop fly or grounder-- resulting from better execution of the swing-- results in an out? If we played (American) football that way, then a quarterback sack would result in a loss of down with no loss of yardage, and on third down it would result in a replay. Thppp!
I realize this is more in the nature of bitching than asking questions, but sometimes that's how society moves forward. I expect Einstein was bitching about Michelson & Morley's failure to measure the ether when he came up with his clever ideas, and it took some caveman bitching about the cold to spur the invention of fire ("shut up already and stick your hand in this... happy, now?").
Seriously, how difficult is it to run a secure zoo?
Criticizing faulty realism in bad movies is like fitting fish in a barrel. But Jurassic Park is a good movie overall, and this isn't about the obvious science errors. Rather, I question whether or not a large corporation with hundreds of millions to invest, and billions at stake, could possibly fail to keep some lizards under control.
Yeah, animals are tricky. I get that. But it's the little, swarming critters that give humans problems. I'm not going to check Wikipedia (of course), but I've been to zoos, and I've seen plenty of nature shows. If you put a tiger behind steel bars, it will stay there. If you put a grizzly bear in a 20-foot deep concrete pit, it will not jump out. Lizards are much slower and significantly stupider. Have you seen the segment on Komodo Dragons in BBC's Life? Even running loose those things couldn't hurt an alert 10-year-old.
Not that I've verified that with some unwilling test subject. No. That would be wrong. The kid was eleven, and he volunteered.
And my lawyer has advised me that the above statement can be construed as hyperbole, and is therefore not incriminating, and if he knows the real truth he ain't sayin'.
So if you have any answers or clarifications (but no accusations, please), then feel free to share.
Cheers,
Jason
But that's not me. I spent the day wondering who would answer all of my important questions in a post-wikipedia apocalypse. I thirst for knowledge, and a quick look at my own browser history shows how incredibly enlightened my curiosity is: Which of the Valar created the dwarves? What can I learn about Halloween within 45 seconds that will make my web comment sound intelligent? When did Worf arrive on Deep Space Nine? Is Danica McKellar already married?
These questions, of course, have already been answered (Aulë, a vague reference to Samhain coupled with the implication that I have strong opinions about Pope Gregory III, Season Four, and, sadly, yes).
But as a contingency against future disaster, I've decided to do something of a dry run and test my ability to get answers without Wikipedia. So here's what's on my mind today:
Can you cook an egg in the oven?
Obviously, you can break open an egg and dump its innards into a cake or whatever and cook that in an oven. But what if you want a scrambled egg and, like me, don't have a stove? For that matter, what about a whole egg? Can I wrap one in aluminum foil and stick it in my toaster oven? Is that a stupid question? Was that a stupid question?
Did they wear sunglasses a thousand years ago? Why not?
I know from previous research that some form of magnifying/corrective glasses have been around since at least medieval times (I saw a bespectacled monk or something in a movie), and handheld lenses for even longer.
I'm a night owl-- I work the graveyard shift-- and even indirect sunlight bothers me. Surely the Classical-era peasants who worked overnights to stock Roman grocery stores where of similar disposition, and I can't imagine humanity just got by squinting for thousands of years.
And when you think about it, blocking out a portion of light has to be much easier than refocusing it. It would surely be worth the effort if you were planning to fight a battle in the daytime (which I know-- again, thanks to movies-- was the normal modus operandus, unless there was a fire-breathing dragon involved). I suppose an ancient general could've handed out veils, but then his soldiers would look like escapees from the nearest harem. Not very manly.
Is there something like a Hippocratic Oath for lawyers? Shouldn't there be?
By 'Hippocratic Oath', of course, I do not mean the Hippocratic Oath at all (it says something about helping whomever is in need), but the rule that says "first, do no harm". I don't know what that's called. See where I am without Wikipedia?
At any rate, there should be a #1 rule for lawyers that says "first, tell no lies". Seriously. I'm not advocating that we revoke the tradition of attorney-client privilege and expect them to reveal everything they've discussed. Rather, I want to overturn the paradigm whereby an attorney considers it his ethical duty to serve his client at the expense of right. So if a suspect tells his lawyer, "Yeah, I killed the guy. Help me get away with it", then the lawyer should say, "I recommend you confess; otherwise I'll recuse myself, you'll get a new lawyer, and you'll have to make up lies on your own without coaching."
I'm not under the delusion that all lawyers would comply. But it would be nice to at least acknowledge a professional ethic that doesn't allow them to condone, encourage, or assist with dishonesty.
What's the deal with foul balls?
A good, solid hit-- what the batter is normally attempting-- results in a line drive. Base hit.
A total whiff results in a strike.
If we apply a simple continuum, then a foul ball is the next worst thing (you barely made contact). So why does that earn you more pitches, whereas a pop fly or grounder-- resulting from better execution of the swing-- results in an out? If we played (American) football that way, then a quarterback sack would result in a loss of down with no loss of yardage, and on third down it would result in a replay. Thppp!
I realize this is more in the nature of bitching than asking questions, but sometimes that's how society moves forward. I expect Einstein was bitching about Michelson & Morley's failure to measure the ether when he came up with his clever ideas, and it took some caveman bitching about the cold to spur the invention of fire ("shut up already and stick your hand in this... happy, now?").
Seriously, how difficult is it to run a secure zoo?
Criticizing faulty realism in bad movies is like fitting fish in a barrel. But Jurassic Park is a good movie overall, and this isn't about the obvious science errors. Rather, I question whether or not a large corporation with hundreds of millions to invest, and billions at stake, could possibly fail to keep some lizards under control.
Yeah, animals are tricky. I get that. But it's the little, swarming critters that give humans problems. I'm not going to check Wikipedia (of course), but I've been to zoos, and I've seen plenty of nature shows. If you put a tiger behind steel bars, it will stay there. If you put a grizzly bear in a 20-foot deep concrete pit, it will not jump out. Lizards are much slower and significantly stupider. Have you seen the segment on Komodo Dragons in BBC's Life? Even running loose those things couldn't hurt an alert 10-year-old.
Not that I've verified that with some unwilling test subject. No. That would be wrong. The kid was eleven, and he volunteered.
And my lawyer has advised me that the above statement can be construed as hyperbole, and is therefore not incriminating, and if he knows the real truth he ain't sayin'.
So if you have any answers or clarifications (but no accusations, please), then feel free to share.
Cheers,
Jason
01 November 2011
Five Suggestions for New Holidays
Happy Samhain, everyone-- the time of year when we reflect upon, um... the equinox. And saints deliver candy to children with good costumes, or something.
Yes, we have plenty of holidays already on the books. But, really, only about a half dozen are "must-do" events. Holiday-making is like sales; you just have to take a lot of shots at it and see what pans out. There's not a hair's difference between the significance of, say, Thanksgiving and May Day, but the former is a major holiday in the U.S. whilst the latter is nearly forgotten. Easter used to be much bigger than Christmas (and still is, in terms of religious significance). St. Patrick's Day is completely optional; St. Valentine's Day is not; and All Saints Day is a footnote.
You get the idea.
PC's Day
First Monday in April -- split between delivery of UNIVAC I (31 March) and Microsoft founding (4 April)
There's already a plethora of holidays to show appreciation to the important people in our lives. There's Mother's Day and Father's Day, of course, for those parents who (hopefully) have given each of us more than we can repay. There's also a Teacher's Day. And a Secretary's Day. And probably a Dentist's Day, Accountant's Day, Masseuse's Day, Parole Officer's Day, Quiet Neighbor's Day, and Reasonable Blackmailer's Day.
Yes, thank you, one and all.
But our computers are fast becoming more important than transient relationships. How about a day for appreciating them?
Your computer doesn't want flowers or a card (at least not a paper card-- check its performance diagnostics and it might appreciate another kind). But you can give it a few kind words of thanks, and maybe refrain from overclocking for a day. Or finally take a moment to work over its backside with some compressed air-- unless you're over 60, in which case you do that too much already, so in your case it's time to grit your teeth and download some updates.
But this isn't about maintenance per se. It's about showing some thanks and treating your computer like a person. And I'm totally serious. Your computer might not be a person, but it's fewer years than you think until you upgrade to a model that effectively is. So let's all develop some good habits before it's too late and we find ourselves combating AI-constructed murderous cyborgs or locked in a virtual reality world against our will.
Card Day
29 August -- birth of Joyce C. Hall, founder of Hallmark
The purpose of piddling miscellaneous holidays is divert productive energy from things that improve our quality of life to the manufacture of greeting cards. What could be simpler-- and more honest-- than Card Day?
There will be cards, of course. And without any real message to convey, the design objective will be to make cards that are as specific as possible to the exchanging individuals. E.g.,
Happy Card Day to my paternal grandmother!
Happy Card Day to my uncle by marriage through my mother's sister!
All my love, on our third Card Day as friends, our first Card Day as a sexually active couple, and our second Card Day as a romantic couple in any capacity.
The traditional Card Day décor will be silver and purple bunting. What's that? You don't have anything lying around that you can use? But that's the point of Card Day-- more opportunities for retailers towhore out promote the holiday with innovative wares. Also, you have to wear a beige hat and a teal scarf (both monogrammed with the current year), and if anyone catches you without them, you have to buy them dinner.
So, is Card Day a good idea? No. Absolutely not. But it's a bad idea that people will get behind. And speaking of bad ideas...
Dependence Day
3 February -- ratification of the Sixteenth Amendment authorizing a federal income tax
For Americans, here's a complementary holiday to Independence Day. We can celebrate a government that appropriates ten times the revenue and controls a hundred times as much of our personal lives as the most outlandish schemes ever devised by George III.
For the kids, we can tell the story of magical Uncle Sam, who comes in the middle of the night and leaves $1 million federal bonds with 100-year maturity for all the good children who promise to be registered voters. Red, white and blue decorations can be recycled from Independence Day/Flag Day/We're-Not-Celebrating-We're-Commemorating-September-11-Day. As for music, the patriotic stuff is already stretched a bit thin. Therefore, everyone will hum the theme music from the their local news shows. That will serve as the perfect lead-in to the final Dependence Day tradition: Discussing terrorist attacks, sensational murders, and politician sex scandals as if they were the most important issues of the day.
Procrastinator's Day
30 June -- see below
Officially, Procrastinator's Day is to be observed as soon as possible in the month of June.
Decorations are the biggest part of Procrastinator's Day. These should include a full bag of garbage on the porch, a load of laundry in the dryer that has been run for "another ten minutes to get the wrinkles back out" at least three times, and unopened mail scattered throughout the kitchen and/or living room.
The traditional meal is delivery or take-out, if you can afford it. Otherwise, make a sandwich. Or open a can of chili. You should not eat leftovers (unless it's leftover chili or take-out, of course), because that suggests something that was prepared ahead of time.
Cards and gifts are absolutely taboo. The only person to whom you wish a 'Happy Procrastinator's Day' will be your mother (because she'll be hurt if you ignore her). Do not call. It will be traditional to send a text message, partly because you're too embarrassed to be calling this late, but mostly because if you call, you'll have to spend time talking about stuff, and you can do that later.
Newtonukkah
25 December -- Isaac Newton's Birthday
Yes, I got this idea from Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory.
And, yes, nerds like that show. At least I do.
If there is any human being worthy of his own holiday, it is Sir Isaac Newton. After all, if one accepts the tenets of Islam, then Muhammad transcribed the words of God verbatim; and if one accepts the tenets of Christianity, Jesus is an incarnation of God. Everything Newton accomplished was done with a human brain.
On TBBT, Leonard suggested the name Newtwonmas. I prefer "Newtonukkah", because it sounds like some kind of Christmas alternative, which is sort of the intent. When we convert the somewhat-exclusive "Merry Christmas" to the allegedly inclusive "Happy Holidays", thereby incorporating Hannukah, we expand the relevance from 2.1 billion people to 2.1 billion people. That's not a typo. The global population of Jews is less than the margin of error when counting Christians. The addition of Newtonukkah would allow the biggest holiday "season" to be relevant to everyone (save perhaps a few proud descendents of Leibniz).
Plus "Newtonukkah" sounds like bad-ass Transformer.
We can incorporate many of the secular Christmas traditions, including the exchanging of gifts and an insincere commitment to world peace. Decorations can be red and green, but with a bit more emphasis on apples and apple trees. Also, in addition to developing calculus and formulating the laws of gravity and motion, Newton was highly successful at busting counterfeiters. So it might be appropriate to replace the Yule Log with a burning effigy of the current Federal Reserve Board Chairman whilst the family sits nearby learning a new class of integrals.
Cheers,
Jason
Yes, we have plenty of holidays already on the books. But, really, only about a half dozen are "must-do" events. Holiday-making is like sales; you just have to take a lot of shots at it and see what pans out. There's not a hair's difference between the significance of, say, Thanksgiving and May Day, but the former is a major holiday in the U.S. whilst the latter is nearly forgotten. Easter used to be much bigger than Christmas (and still is, in terms of religious significance). St. Patrick's Day is completely optional; St. Valentine's Day is not; and All Saints Day is a footnote.
You get the idea.
PC's Day
First Monday in April -- split between delivery of UNIVAC I (31 March) and Microsoft founding (4 April)
There's already a plethora of holidays to show appreciation to the important people in our lives. There's Mother's Day and Father's Day, of course, for those parents who (hopefully) have given each of us more than we can repay. There's also a Teacher's Day. And a Secretary's Day. And probably a Dentist's Day, Accountant's Day, Masseuse's Day, Parole Officer's Day, Quiet Neighbor's Day, and Reasonable Blackmailer's Day.
Yes, thank you, one and all.
But our computers are fast becoming more important than transient relationships. How about a day for appreciating them?
Your computer doesn't want flowers or a card (at least not a paper card-- check its performance diagnostics and it might appreciate another kind). But you can give it a few kind words of thanks, and maybe refrain from overclocking for a day. Or finally take a moment to work over its backside with some compressed air-- unless you're over 60, in which case you do that too much already, so in your case it's time to grit your teeth and download some updates.
But this isn't about maintenance per se. It's about showing some thanks and treating your computer like a person. And I'm totally serious. Your computer might not be a person, but it's fewer years than you think until you upgrade to a model that effectively is. So let's all develop some good habits before it's too late and we find ourselves combating AI-constructed murderous cyborgs or locked in a virtual reality world against our will.
Card Day
29 August -- birth of Joyce C. Hall, founder of Hallmark
The purpose of piddling miscellaneous holidays is divert productive energy from things that improve our quality of life to the manufacture of greeting cards. What could be simpler-- and more honest-- than Card Day?
There will be cards, of course. And without any real message to convey, the design objective will be to make cards that are as specific as possible to the exchanging individuals. E.g.,
Happy Card Day to my paternal grandmother!
Happy Card Day to my uncle by marriage through my mother's sister!
All my love, on our third Card Day as friends, our first Card Day as a sexually active couple, and our second Card Day as a romantic couple in any capacity.
The traditional Card Day décor will be silver and purple bunting. What's that? You don't have anything lying around that you can use? But that's the point of Card Day-- more opportunities for retailers to
So, is Card Day a good idea? No. Absolutely not. But it's a bad idea that people will get behind. And speaking of bad ideas...
Dependence Day
3 February -- ratification of the Sixteenth Amendment authorizing a federal income tax
For Americans, here's a complementary holiday to Independence Day. We can celebrate a government that appropriates ten times the revenue and controls a hundred times as much of our personal lives as the most outlandish schemes ever devised by George III.
For the kids, we can tell the story of magical Uncle Sam, who comes in the middle of the night and leaves $1 million federal bonds with 100-year maturity for all the good children who promise to be registered voters. Red, white and blue decorations can be recycled from Independence Day/Flag Day/We're-Not-Celebrating-We're-Commemorating-September-11-Day. As for music, the patriotic stuff is already stretched a bit thin. Therefore, everyone will hum the theme music from the their local news shows. That will serve as the perfect lead-in to the final Dependence Day tradition: Discussing terrorist attacks, sensational murders, and politician sex scandals as if they were the most important issues of the day.
Procrastinator's Day
30 June -- see below
Officially, Procrastinator's Day is to be observed as soon as possible in the month of June.
Decorations are the biggest part of Procrastinator's Day. These should include a full bag of garbage on the porch, a load of laundry in the dryer that has been run for "another ten minutes to get the wrinkles back out" at least three times, and unopened mail scattered throughout the kitchen and/or living room.
The traditional meal is delivery or take-out, if you can afford it. Otherwise, make a sandwich. Or open a can of chili. You should not eat leftovers (unless it's leftover chili or take-out, of course), because that suggests something that was prepared ahead of time.
Cards and gifts are absolutely taboo. The only person to whom you wish a 'Happy Procrastinator's Day' will be your mother (because she'll be hurt if you ignore her). Do not call. It will be traditional to send a text message, partly because you're too embarrassed to be calling this late, but mostly because if you call, you'll have to spend time talking about stuff, and you can do that later.
Newtonukkah
25 December -- Isaac Newton's Birthday
Yes, I got this idea from Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory.
And, yes, nerds like that show. At least I do.
If there is any human being worthy of his own holiday, it is Sir Isaac Newton. After all, if one accepts the tenets of Islam, then Muhammad transcribed the words of God verbatim; and if one accepts the tenets of Christianity, Jesus is an incarnation of God. Everything Newton accomplished was done with a human brain.
On TBBT, Leonard suggested the name Newtwonmas. I prefer "Newtonukkah", because it sounds like some kind of Christmas alternative, which is sort of the intent. When we convert the somewhat-exclusive "Merry Christmas" to the allegedly inclusive "Happy Holidays", thereby incorporating Hannukah, we expand the relevance from 2.1 billion people to 2.1 billion people. That's not a typo. The global population of Jews is less than the margin of error when counting Christians. The addition of Newtonukkah would allow the biggest holiday "season" to be relevant to everyone (save perhaps a few proud descendents of Leibniz).
Plus "Newtonukkah" sounds like bad-ass Transformer.
We can incorporate many of the secular Christmas traditions, including the exchanging of gifts and an insincere commitment to world peace. Decorations can be red and green, but with a bit more emphasis on apples and apple trees. Also, in addition to developing calculus and formulating the laws of gravity and motion, Newton was highly successful at busting counterfeiters. So it might be appropriate to replace the Yule Log with a burning effigy of the current Federal Reserve Board Chairman whilst the family sits nearby learning a new class of integrals.
Cheers,
Jason
20 October 2011
Delusional Thursday: An Alien Abduction
For some reason, I thought Thursday fell on Friday. An easy mistake to make, right?
So, running a bit late, I'm going to post a raw transcript of my most recent alien abduction experience. I'd originally planned to edit this and write it up as a more interesting story, but at least this way you can read all of the sordid details uncensored.
SUBJECT 147: Oohh... my head. [moaning, something unintelligible] Are you going to hurt me?
CAPTAIN MAL: Z`ww apa^a kho ypsin o'h''ll nd configure the translator. Please restate.
SUBJECT 147: Are you going to hurt me?
CAPTAIN MAL: Not intentionally.
SUBJECT 147: Where am I?
CAPTAIN MAL: [muffled hum in the background] One moment. [clicking noise] What do you think?
SUBJECT 147: I think you're, um, an alien.
CAPTAIN MAL: Not, perhaps, a demon?
SUBJECT 147: Uh, no. What-- why would I think that?
CAPTAIN MAL: [scratching noise] Excellent. We may assume your planet has at least nominal technology. Tell me about your species.
SUBJECT 147: You don't... am I the first one you abducted?
CAPTAIN MAL: I'm asking the questions, here. Please make no assumptions and answer to the best of your ability.
SUBJECT 147: Um, okay. We're, uh... a peaceful people.
CAPTAIN MAL: Bullshit.
SUBJECT 147: What?
CAPTAIN MAL: A truly peaceful species, lacking the concept of war, would not think to say such a thing.
SUBJECT 147: Um, we're mostly-- we try to be peaceful.
CAPTAIN MAL: Really? My species is quite warlike. And yet, with your allegedly peaceful nature freeing up more resources for development, we've surpassed you to the extent that I am the abductor and you are the abductee. How do you explain that?
SUBJECT 147: I don't-- um, maybe you're older. You know, your sun and stuff, and your planet formed before ours did.
CAPTAIN MAL: Are you seriously blaming your sun for your developmental ineptitude?
SUBJECT 147: [mumbling]
CAPTAIN MAL: Tell me, if we were to invade, where on your planet would be most vulnerable to a preemptive orbital bombing strike?
SUBJECT 147: Um... please don't---
CAPTAIN MAL: Hah! I'm joking. Location is irrelevant, as a mere fraction of our arsenal could bomb your entire planet into a state of uninhabitability.
SUBJECT 147: My God, that's sick!
CAPTAIN MAL: Yes. Moving on, then, let's try some word association. I'm going to say a word, and then I want you to say the first word that comes to mind, whatever it is, without hesitation. Understand?
SUBJECT 147: Um, yes.
CAPTAIN MAL: Hands--
SUBJECT 147: Feet.
CAPTAIN MAL: Sex--
SUBJECT 147: Love.
CAPTAIN MAL: Copulation--
SUBJECT 147: Um, sex.
CAPTAIN MAL: Toes--
SUBJECT 147: Feet.
CAPTAIN MAL: Fornication--
SUBJECT 147: Sex.
CAPTAIN MAL: Shoes--
SUBJECT 147: Feet.
CAPTAIN MAL: Intercourse--
SUBJECT 147: Um, copulation.
CAPTAIN MAL: [scratching noise] You've got quite the fetish, my friend.
SUBJECT 147: I don't-- no, I don't.
CAPTAIN MAL: Let's proceed with the physical examination. [buzzing noise, dripping liquid]
SUBJECT 147: [long pause] Please don't probe my anus.
CAPTAIN MAL: Oh fer-- I did that one time! I mistook it for the nourishment entrance.
SUBJECT 147: I'm not hungry!
CAPTAIN MAL: Try to relax. I'm going to move into the light, now. Don't be alarmed by my appearance.
SUBJECT 147: [gulps] You're so... hairless. Except the top of your, um, head.
CAPTAIN MAL: We evolved away from excessive hair because it harbored parasites. But if you think about it, we're actually quite similar.
SUBJECT 147: What's that triangle thingy above your mouth?
CAPTAIN MAL: An external olfactory organ. Now, be quiet and hold still.
SUBJECT 147: [whimpers] Please...
CAPTAIN MAL: Chill out. I'm already finished. [scratching noise] What is your given name among your kind?
SUBJECT 147: Miklazg. Miklazg Gwivver.
CAPTAIN MAL: Well, Miklazg-miklazg-gwivver, my name is "Jason". Can you pronounce that?
SUBJECT 147: [garbled]
CAPTAIN MAL: Our session is nearly finished. Now I will allow you to ask one question of me.
SUBJECT 147: Oh, wow. Um, let me think. [pause] How many-- no, wait. [long pause] How can we make contact with an intelligent species? Beyond our own planet?
CAPTAIN MAL: Interesting. [scratching noise, muffled beep]
SUBJECT 147: Well? How can we do it?
CAPTAIN MAL: I said nothing about providing an answer. Please lay back while I anaesthetize you for the return journey.
SUBJECT 147: Are you going to, um, erase my memories?
CAPTAIN MAL: Ah, that! No, we have a simple, new technique that ensures our security and anonymity whilst addressing all of our concerns about your mental well-being.
SUBJECT 147: What's that? The techinque?
CAPTAIN MAL: We do nothing. No one of intelligence will believe you.
SUBJECT 147: Oh. Right. And my, um, mental well-being...?
CAPTAIN MAL: --does not concern us at all.
I enjoyed my visit with Miklazg-miklazg-gwivver, but I had to let the poor bastard go before completing the full routine. Sometimes they're just too tense about the anal probe. But I'll get the next one.
Cheers,
Jason
So, running a bit late, I'm going to post a raw transcript of my most recent alien abduction experience. I'd originally planned to edit this and write it up as a more interesting story, but at least this way you can read all of the sordid details uncensored.
SUBJECT 147: Oohh... my head. [moaning, something unintelligible] Are you going to hurt me?
CAPTAIN MAL: Z`ww apa^a kho ypsin o'h''ll nd configure the translator. Please restate.
SUBJECT 147: Are you going to hurt me?
CAPTAIN MAL: Not intentionally.
SUBJECT 147: Where am I?
CAPTAIN MAL: [muffled hum in the background] One moment. [clicking noise] What do you think?
SUBJECT 147: I think you're, um, an alien.
CAPTAIN MAL: Not, perhaps, a demon?
SUBJECT 147: Uh, no. What-- why would I think that?
CAPTAIN MAL: [scratching noise] Excellent. We may assume your planet has at least nominal technology. Tell me about your species.
SUBJECT 147: You don't... am I the first one you abducted?
CAPTAIN MAL: I'm asking the questions, here. Please make no assumptions and answer to the best of your ability.
SUBJECT 147: Um, okay. We're, uh... a peaceful people.
CAPTAIN MAL: Bullshit.
SUBJECT 147: What?
CAPTAIN MAL: A truly peaceful species, lacking the concept of war, would not think to say such a thing.
SUBJECT 147: Um, we're mostly-- we try to be peaceful.
CAPTAIN MAL: Really? My species is quite warlike. And yet, with your allegedly peaceful nature freeing up more resources for development, we've surpassed you to the extent that I am the abductor and you are the abductee. How do you explain that?
SUBJECT 147: I don't-- um, maybe you're older. You know, your sun and stuff, and your planet formed before ours did.
CAPTAIN MAL: Are you seriously blaming your sun for your developmental ineptitude?
SUBJECT 147: [mumbling]
CAPTAIN MAL: Tell me, if we were to invade, where on your planet would be most vulnerable to a preemptive orbital bombing strike?
SUBJECT 147: Um... please don't---
CAPTAIN MAL: Hah! I'm joking. Location is irrelevant, as a mere fraction of our arsenal could bomb your entire planet into a state of uninhabitability.
SUBJECT 147: My God, that's sick!
CAPTAIN MAL: Yes. Moving on, then, let's try some word association. I'm going to say a word, and then I want you to say the first word that comes to mind, whatever it is, without hesitation. Understand?
SUBJECT 147: Um, yes.
CAPTAIN MAL: Hands--
SUBJECT 147: Feet.
CAPTAIN MAL: Sex--
SUBJECT 147: Love.
CAPTAIN MAL: Copulation--
SUBJECT 147: Um, sex.
CAPTAIN MAL: Toes--
SUBJECT 147: Feet.
CAPTAIN MAL: Fornication--
SUBJECT 147: Sex.
CAPTAIN MAL: Shoes--
SUBJECT 147: Feet.
CAPTAIN MAL: Intercourse--
SUBJECT 147: Um, copulation.
CAPTAIN MAL: [scratching noise] You've got quite the fetish, my friend.
SUBJECT 147: I don't-- no, I don't.
CAPTAIN MAL: Let's proceed with the physical examination. [buzzing noise, dripping liquid]
SUBJECT 147: [long pause] Please don't probe my anus.
CAPTAIN MAL: Oh fer-- I did that one time! I mistook it for the nourishment entrance.
SUBJECT 147: I'm not hungry!
CAPTAIN MAL: Try to relax. I'm going to move into the light, now. Don't be alarmed by my appearance.
SUBJECT 147: [gulps] You're so... hairless. Except the top of your, um, head.
CAPTAIN MAL: We evolved away from excessive hair because it harbored parasites. But if you think about it, we're actually quite similar.
SUBJECT 147: What's that triangle thingy above your mouth?
CAPTAIN MAL: An external olfactory organ. Now, be quiet and hold still.
SUBJECT 147: [whimpers] Please...
CAPTAIN MAL: Chill out. I'm already finished. [scratching noise] What is your given name among your kind?
SUBJECT 147: Miklazg. Miklazg Gwivver.
CAPTAIN MAL: Well, Miklazg-miklazg-gwivver, my name is "Jason". Can you pronounce that?
SUBJECT 147: [garbled]
CAPTAIN MAL: Our session is nearly finished. Now I will allow you to ask one question of me.
SUBJECT 147: Oh, wow. Um, let me think. [pause] How many-- no, wait. [long pause] How can we make contact with an intelligent species? Beyond our own planet?
CAPTAIN MAL: Interesting. [scratching noise, muffled beep]
SUBJECT 147: Well? How can we do it?
CAPTAIN MAL: I said nothing about providing an answer. Please lay back while I anaesthetize you for the return journey.
SUBJECT 147: Are you going to, um, erase my memories?
CAPTAIN MAL: Ah, that! No, we have a simple, new technique that ensures our security and anonymity whilst addressing all of our concerns about your mental well-being.
SUBJECT 147: What's that? The techinque?
CAPTAIN MAL: We do nothing. No one of intelligence will believe you.
SUBJECT 147: Oh. Right. And my, um, mental well-being...?
CAPTAIN MAL: --does not concern us at all.
I enjoyed my visit with Miklazg-miklazg-gwivver, but I had to let the poor bastard go before completing the full routine. Sometimes they're just too tense about the anal probe. But I'll get the next one.
Cheers,
Jason
10 October 2011
Alternative Uses for Ordinary Things
If necessity is invention's mother, then screwing around with stuff is its father.
For example, when the supply of rubber was a concern during World War II, B.F. Goodrich developed a synthetic. That's mom at work. Then folks like Ruth Fallgatter and Peter Hodgson played around with failed versions of the synthetic and came up with Silly Putty. That's dad.
This process, in fact, predates mankind by millions of years. Birds invented wings because they needed to fly through the air, but that didn't stop some prehistoric avian from screwing around with them in the water and inventing penguins.
So, for your infotainmnet, here are a few more ideas:
Cats
Standard Use:
shedding on the furniture and keeping your ego in check
Alternative Use:
Ever have trouble killing a fly? You've got that fantastic flyswatter and a good reach, but once the fly passes in front of a dark background, it turns invisible. Meanwhile, your cat has no trouble seeing the bug, but judging from his/her frustrated little mews, the cat can't reach it.
The obvious solution is to place the flyswatter in your good hand and mount the cat on the opposite shoulder. Then simply follow his/her eyes and turn yourselves into a super-efficient, two-headed fly killing machine.
Not all cats enjoy riding on shoulders, of course. But if you do have such a feline, I'm totally serious about this working. Max and I killed dozens using this technique.
Bamboo Shoots
Standard Use:
placed underneath a subject's fingernails during an interview to stimulate conversation
Alternative Use:
If it's information you crave, and you don't have the stomach for such heavy-handed interrogation techniques, try using the bamboo to hire a spy ring of panda bears. Nobody suspects a panda of being a spy.
On the down side, though, you will need to teach the pandas how to talk.
Binoculars
Standard Use:
spying on neighbors
Alternative Use:
Go outside at night and find the brightest thing that looks like a star. Point the binoculars at it and hold them very steady (prop the binoculars on a tree branch or your deck railing, if necessary).
That "star" is actually Jupiter, and with ordinary binoculars you can see it as a disc. Even cooler, you should be able to spot 2-4 very tiny and very sharp points of light hovering around it-- those are the Galilean Moons (Io, Ganymede, Callisto, Europa).
Neutrinos
Standard Use:
balancing equations for beta decay
Alternative Use:
Actually, while we're on the topic, let's talk about the primary function. Roughly speaking, beta decay happens when a neutron decays into a proton and an electron. But that process doesn't quite conserve momentum, angular momentum, and energy. The difference is so small that most people wouldn't really care, but it annoys the Cosmic Accountant, so some kind of neutrino (or antineutrino) is thrown in to make change. Simply put, neutrinos are the pennies of elementary particles.
So my first suggestion: Use neutrinos to replace actual pennies. Let's set some kind of exchange rate-- it can be a million neutrinos to a penny, or a billion trillion neutrinos to a penny, or whatever. Seriously, there are plenty of neutrinos. Then whenever a transaction requires something smaller than a nickel, we can inform the person who doesn't get his pennies that he's been credited with the appropriate number of neutrinos, and said neutrinos are passing through his body at this very instant and he's free to collect them if he likes.
My second suggestion is inspired by the recent anomolous measurements from CERN suggesting that neutrinos can travel faster than light. The most practical application is what I call "neutrino messaging." Sending a message faster than light violates causality, so this would be the ideal tool if a friend is complaining that you failed to send them a text. If you have neutrino messaging, you can rightly claim that they are at fault because they need to receive the message before you can send it. Q.E.D.
Penguin Wings
Standard Use:
swimming
Alternative Use:
asserting dominance
Cheers,
Jason
For example, when the supply of rubber was a concern during World War II, B.F. Goodrich developed a synthetic. That's mom at work. Then folks like Ruth Fallgatter and Peter Hodgson played around with failed versions of the synthetic and came up with Silly Putty. That's dad.
This process, in fact, predates mankind by millions of years. Birds invented wings because they needed to fly through the air, but that didn't stop some prehistoric avian from screwing around with them in the water and inventing penguins.
So, for your infotainmnet, here are a few more ideas:
Cats
Standard Use:
shedding on the furniture and keeping your ego in check
Alternative Use:
Ever have trouble killing a fly? You've got that fantastic flyswatter and a good reach, but once the fly passes in front of a dark background, it turns invisible. Meanwhile, your cat has no trouble seeing the bug, but judging from his/her frustrated little mews, the cat can't reach it.
The obvious solution is to place the flyswatter in your good hand and mount the cat on the opposite shoulder. Then simply follow his/her eyes and turn yourselves into a super-efficient, two-headed fly killing machine.
Not all cats enjoy riding on shoulders, of course. But if you do have such a feline, I'm totally serious about this working. Max and I killed dozens using this technique.
Bamboo Shoots
Standard Use:
placed underneath a subject's fingernails during an interview to stimulate conversation
Alternative Use:
If it's information you crave, and you don't have the stomach for such heavy-handed interrogation techniques, try using the bamboo to hire a spy ring of panda bears. Nobody suspects a panda of being a spy.
On the down side, though, you will need to teach the pandas how to talk.
Binoculars
Standard Use:
spying on neighbors
Alternative Use:
Go outside at night and find the brightest thing that looks like a star. Point the binoculars at it and hold them very steady (prop the binoculars on a tree branch or your deck railing, if necessary).
That "star" is actually Jupiter, and with ordinary binoculars you can see it as a disc. Even cooler, you should be able to spot 2-4 very tiny and very sharp points of light hovering around it-- those are the Galilean Moons (Io, Ganymede, Callisto, Europa).
Neutrinos
Standard Use:
balancing equations for beta decay
Alternative Use:
Actually, while we're on the topic, let's talk about the primary function. Roughly speaking, beta decay happens when a neutron decays into a proton and an electron. But that process doesn't quite conserve momentum, angular momentum, and energy. The difference is so small that most people wouldn't really care, but it annoys the Cosmic Accountant, so some kind of neutrino (or antineutrino) is thrown in to make change. Simply put, neutrinos are the pennies of elementary particles.
So my first suggestion: Use neutrinos to replace actual pennies. Let's set some kind of exchange rate-- it can be a million neutrinos to a penny, or a billion trillion neutrinos to a penny, or whatever. Seriously, there are plenty of neutrinos. Then whenever a transaction requires something smaller than a nickel, we can inform the person who doesn't get his pennies that he's been credited with the appropriate number of neutrinos, and said neutrinos are passing through his body at this very instant and he's free to collect them if he likes.
My second suggestion is inspired by the recent anomolous measurements from CERN suggesting that neutrinos can travel faster than light. The most practical application is what I call "neutrino messaging." Sending a message faster than light violates causality, so this would be the ideal tool if a friend is complaining that you failed to send them a text. If you have neutrino messaging, you can rightly claim that they are at fault because they need to receive the message before you can send it. Q.E.D.
Penguin Wings
Standard Use:
swimming
Alternative Use:
asserting dominance
Cheers,
Jason
28 September 2011
Six Game Reviews
In a departure from my normal blog style of just screwing around, I thought I'd do something useful. So today I'm going to provide some game reviews for my fellow gamers.
Sid Meier's Civilization V
Players: One or more geeks
This is the latest installment of Sid Meier's highly successful turn-based, history-based strategy game.
There are more icons on the box than on the control screen.
Graphics: 4
Interface: 3
Gameplay: 1
Ease of setup: -7
Civ 5 removes much of the annoying thinking that cluttered previous versions. If a player does badly in any situation-- say, by failing to expand his empire-- there is a game mechanic which provides a reward. Diplomatic interactions with AI civilizations are no longer governed by visible numbers (that's just too much like a... like a game). Instead, you get to watch animated versions of rival leaders and try to interpret how the graphics team interpreted the design team's interpretation of real people. It's fun in the way that using Classified Ads to find a spouse would be fun if you were completely blind.
In another departure from previous versions, the time-consuming animations that accompany every single move and battle cannot be turned off. Because, dammit, they worked hard on those.
Installing the game is a simple matter of-- wait, first you have to install something called "Steam". Steam helps you by-- um, well, Steam has to run all the time while you're running Civ V, and you kinda need to be logged in with an intrusive online service to use it. But that's what society gets when it criminalizes people who use naughty vegetables or start a business while tolerating software piracy.
Cheat Codes: World Builder, I guess. Why bother?
Overall Rating: 2 If you want to play Civilization, get Civ 4 and download some of the fantastic user-created enhancements and scenarios (via civfanatics.com).
Hide and Seek
Players: Two or more of any age or species
One or more people hide(s). Another tries to find them.
Graphics: 5
Interface: 7
Gameplay: 8
Ease of setup: 7
In one variant, after the 'hidden' party is found, it is shot and killed. This is usually played with deer, who will only play as the "hide" player.
On that note, dogs only work as the "seek" player. Cats, on the other paw, enjoy playing both sides.
Cheat Codes: Versus a feline "hide" player, try: Num-num! Tuna! or simply run the can opener.
A doorknob will defeat most dogs, but is considered unsporting.
The scent of a horny doe can attract a hidden buck. You may consider this a last moment of anticipatory happiness for the buck in question, or the greatest disappointment imaginable, depending on how much your conscience troubles you.
Overall Rating: 8 With multi-species options and unlimited potential for innovative strategies, this one's a winner.
Co-ed Red Rover
Players: At least a dozen children ages 5-7
Form two teams (boys versus girls is good). Each team creates a line, joining hands, facing the opposing team.
After a quick huddle, "Red Rover" is asked to send over an opponent, who tries to break through any hand pair of his/her choice. If succesful, an opposing team member is captured (joins the other team); if not, the would-be breaker switches teams.
Graphics: 6
Interface: 10
Gameplay: 4
Ease of setup: 5
This game should not be played beyond a young age, as greater body mass and stronger grips can lead to injuries.
Unless you want to hurt someone, I guess. Or you're in college and you're drunk.
Cheat Codes: Pick two adjacent girls with whom you want to hold hands and deliberately (or unintentionally) fail to break through. But they first have to select you, so it helps if you're the smallest boy (which I was), in which case it's awesome.
"I feel suddenly weak..."
Overall Rating: 9 The game's single possible drawback is the incantation that summons the spirit/ghost/demon "Red Rover" to send over an opposing player. This subtle occult ritual can lead to later personality problems, cult membership, Satanic rituals, or (in 100% of studied cases) nothing at all.
Chicken
Players: One action hero and one villain
At a critical point in the story, the hero and villain charge one another head-on while driving cars or flying airplanes or steering boats or riding dragons or carrying 50% each of a critical mass of fissile material.
The first to veer off is the "chicken" and loses the game.
"I forfeit." ... "Me, too."
Graphics: 8
Interface: 5
Gameplay: 2
Ease of setup: 2
Inevitably, it is the villain who goes "chicken". This is absolutely contradictory to real life, of course, where nearly all villains-- from petty thugs to fascist dictators-- have high risk-tolerance and an unrealistic view of success probabilities.
The notable exception is the Knight Rider episode "K.I.T.T. vs. K.A.R.R.". The heroic AI-controlled high-tech vehicle known as "KITT" faced off against his evil counterpart, and KARR veered off first (despite going over a cliff and being destroyed) because of his self-preservation programming. Computers really do have faulty algorithms have faulty algorithms have faulty {image here] algorithms that produce str@nge
results.
Cheat Codes: An unimaginative script writer
Overall Rating: 6 Occasionally fun to watch, but not worth playing
Smear the Queer
Players: 3-1000 boys ages eight to twelve
Designate an object as "the ball" (a football is good, but literally anything will do). The person with the ball is "the queer" until tackled and forced to relinquish it. Next to grab it becomes "the queer".
Graphics: 3
Interface: 3
Gameplay: 6
Ease of setup: 9
It is possible that the game title includes an unfortunate homophobic slur. However, I do not think this is the case. For one thing, the game is old, and the term 'queer' (unusual, standing out) fits perfectly with its original meaning. Also, the person acting as the queer is "winning" (to the limited extent that such is possible) and likely to be considered brave and/or athletic, so an insult wouldn't fit.
Moreover, I remember quite clearly from my junior high days that the proper derogatory term was "fag". Outside of the game, you would never call someone "queer" unless you wanted to imply that he was homosexual and British.
Cheat Codes: None. This is possibly the most hack-proof game ever invented. Seriously, try it. Think you can play with a racquetball or a tennis ball and hide it under your shirt? With fifty sharp-eyed 10-year-old boys watching? Good. Effing. Luck.
Overall Rating: 7 The game has little room for inventive tactics. On the other hand, you can run around and have fun for hours without even trying to pick up the ball and get tackled.
Global Thermonuclear War
Players: One human, one AI, one nuclear arsenal (seriously, a real one), and possibly some Commies (seriously, some real ones)
The object of the game is to:
1. Initiate (or not) a nuclear attack
2. Keep the Commies from joining the game
"Oh my God, he thinks this is a date!"
Graphics: 7
Interface: 6
Gameplay: 8
Ease of setup: Too easy
A common complaint about computer games is that they aren't very social. This one is guaranteed to get you out of the house, provide interaction with interesting people, and possibly make friendships which last anywhere from a lifetime to about 12 hours (if you play poorly).
Cheat Codes: Running a simultaneous game of tic-tac-toe will abort the game and keep you from losing. Despite holding off the Commies, it is debatable as to whether or not this constitutes a winning move or is simply equivalent to choosing not to play.
Overall Rating: 7.5 It's better than lip-synching "Danke Schoen" in the middle of a weekday parade.
Cheers,
Jason
Sid Meier's Civilization V
Players: One or more geeks
This is the latest installment of Sid Meier's highly successful turn-based, history-based strategy game.
There are more icons on the box than on the control screen.Graphics: 4
Interface: 3
Gameplay: 1
Ease of setup: -7
Civ 5 removes much of the annoying thinking that cluttered previous versions. If a player does badly in any situation-- say, by failing to expand his empire-- there is a game mechanic which provides a reward. Diplomatic interactions with AI civilizations are no longer governed by visible numbers (that's just too much like a... like a game). Instead, you get to watch animated versions of rival leaders and try to interpret how the graphics team interpreted the design team's interpretation of real people. It's fun in the way that using Classified Ads to find a spouse would be fun if you were completely blind.
In another departure from previous versions, the time-consuming animations that accompany every single move and battle cannot be turned off. Because, dammit, they worked hard on those.
Installing the game is a simple matter of-- wait, first you have to install something called "Steam". Steam helps you by-- um, well, Steam has to run all the time while you're running Civ V, and you kinda need to be logged in with an intrusive online service to use it. But that's what society gets when it criminalizes people who use naughty vegetables or start a business while tolerating software piracy.
Cheat Codes: World Builder, I guess. Why bother?
Overall Rating: 2 If you want to play Civilization, get Civ 4 and download some of the fantastic user-created enhancements and scenarios (via civfanatics.com).
Hide and Seek
Players: Two or more of any age or species
One or more people hide(s). Another tries to find them.
Graphics: 5
Interface: 7
Gameplay: 8
Ease of setup: 7
In one variant, after the 'hidden' party is found, it is shot and killed. This is usually played with deer, who will only play as the "hide" player.
On that note, dogs only work as the "seek" player. Cats, on the other paw, enjoy playing both sides.
Cheat Codes: Versus a feline "hide" player, try: Num-num! Tuna! or simply run the can opener.
A doorknob will defeat most dogs, but is considered unsporting.
The scent of a horny doe can attract a hidden buck. You may consider this a last moment of anticipatory happiness for the buck in question, or the greatest disappointment imaginable, depending on how much your conscience troubles you.
Overall Rating: 8 With multi-species options and unlimited potential for innovative strategies, this one's a winner.
Co-ed Red Rover
Players: At least a dozen children ages 5-7
Form two teams (boys versus girls is good). Each team creates a line, joining hands, facing the opposing team.
After a quick huddle, "Red Rover" is asked to send over an opponent, who tries to break through any hand pair of his/her choice. If succesful, an opposing team member is captured (joins the other team); if not, the would-be breaker switches teams.
Graphics: 6
Interface: 10
Gameplay: 4
Ease of setup: 5
This game should not be played beyond a young age, as greater body mass and stronger grips can lead to injuries.
Unless you want to hurt someone, I guess. Or you're in college and you're drunk.
Cheat Codes: Pick two adjacent girls with whom you want to hold hands and deliberately (or unintentionally) fail to break through. But they first have to select you, so it helps if you're the smallest boy (which I was), in which case it's awesome.
"I feel suddenly weak..."Overall Rating: 9 The game's single possible drawback is the incantation that summons the spirit/ghost/demon "Red Rover" to send over an opposing player. This subtle occult ritual can lead to later personality problems, cult membership, Satanic rituals, or (in 100% of studied cases) nothing at all.
Chicken
Players: One action hero and one villain
At a critical point in the story, the hero and villain charge one another head-on while driving cars or flying airplanes or steering boats or riding dragons or carrying 50% each of a critical mass of fissile material.
The first to veer off is the "chicken" and loses the game.
"I forfeit." ... "Me, too."Graphics: 8
Interface: 5
Gameplay: 2
Ease of setup: 2
Inevitably, it is the villain who goes "chicken". This is absolutely contradictory to real life, of course, where nearly all villains-- from petty thugs to fascist dictators-- have high risk-tolerance and an unrealistic view of success probabilities.
The notable exception is the Knight Rider episode "K.I.T.T. vs. K.A.R.R.". The heroic AI-controlled high-tech vehicle known as "KITT" faced off against his evil counterpart, and KARR veered off first (despite going over a cliff and being destroyed) because of his self-preservation programming. Computers really do have faulty algorithms have faulty algorithms have faulty {image here] algorithms that produce str@nge
results.
Cheat Codes: An unimaginative script writer
Overall Rating: 6 Occasionally fun to watch, but not worth playing
Smear the Queer
Players: 3-1000 boys ages eight to twelve
Designate an object as "the ball" (a football is good, but literally anything will do). The person with the ball is "the queer" until tackled and forced to relinquish it. Next to grab it becomes "the queer".
Graphics: 3
Interface: 3
Gameplay: 6
Ease of setup: 9
It is possible that the game title includes an unfortunate homophobic slur. However, I do not think this is the case. For one thing, the game is old, and the term 'queer' (unusual, standing out) fits perfectly with its original meaning. Also, the person acting as the queer is "winning" (to the limited extent that such is possible) and likely to be considered brave and/or athletic, so an insult wouldn't fit.
Moreover, I remember quite clearly from my junior high days that the proper derogatory term was "fag". Outside of the game, you would never call someone "queer" unless you wanted to imply that he was homosexual and British.
Cheat Codes: None. This is possibly the most hack-proof game ever invented. Seriously, try it. Think you can play with a racquetball or a tennis ball and hide it under your shirt? With fifty sharp-eyed 10-year-old boys watching? Good. Effing. Luck.
Overall Rating: 7 The game has little room for inventive tactics. On the other hand, you can run around and have fun for hours without even trying to pick up the ball and get tackled.
Global Thermonuclear War
Players: One human, one AI, one nuclear arsenal (seriously, a real one), and possibly some Commies (seriously, some real ones)
The object of the game is to:
1. Initiate (or not) a nuclear attack
2. Keep the Commies from joining the game
"Oh my God, he thinks this is a date!"Graphics: 7
Interface: 6
Gameplay: 8
Ease of setup: Too easy
A common complaint about computer games is that they aren't very social. This one is guaranteed to get you out of the house, provide interaction with interesting people, and possibly make friendships which last anywhere from a lifetime to about 12 hours (if you play poorly).
Cheat Codes: Running a simultaneous game of tic-tac-toe will abort the game and keep you from losing. Despite holding off the Commies, it is debatable as to whether or not this constitutes a winning move or is simply equivalent to choosing not to play.
Overall Rating: 7.5 It's better than lip-synching "Danke Schoen" in the middle of a weekday parade.
Cheers,
Jason
16 September 2011
What Is Hobbes?
Bill Watterson's hit comic strip Calvin and Hobbes has been remarked upon for its commentary on society and (occasionally) psychology. But the comic is rich enough that a stray nut such as myself can see something else entirely.
Style
The primary character is Calvin, an imaginative six-year-old boy. Much of the strip is seen from Calvin's perspective, which means the reader sees whatever Calvin imagines. Then we are frequently shifted back to a 'normal' perspective to show that these events were only the product of Calvin's mind.
Hints
All in good fun, right? But the strip drops occasional hints that our epistemology may be flawed. Calvin's father gives outlandish explanations for how the world works, telling Calving that light bulbs are magic and that the sun sets in Arizona, thereby turning the desert rocks red. And although Calvin rejects his father's moral and character lessons, he remarks after one of these flawed explanations, "I hope someday I'm as smart as dad is."
But Calvin doesn't always believe his father. He once tells Hobbes,
Just as curious as Calvin's misdirected evaluation is the fact that his father is wrong on nearly every count. Seasonal change is caused by the Earth's axial tilt; as winter approaches in the northern hemisphere, the Earth is moving closer to the sun; and the planet overall is actually warmer when it's further away (the northern hemisphere has a lot more land, so its summer absorbs more solar radiation than the southern hemisphere's summer).
If there are lessons here-- unintentional, I'm sure-- the first is that the trappings of science do not automatically validate a theory.
The second, and perhaps more esoteric, lesson is that a model should not be confused with reality. For example, ask a friend-- or ask yourself-- why objects fall toward the Earth. Ask why the Earth goes around the sun.
Hold that thought for a minute...
Hobbes
Hobbes is Calvin's tiger. At first blush, he seems to be a stuffed tiger who is anthropomorphized by another flight of Calvin's fancy. But with a more thorough examination, this is seen to be impossible.
Calvin and Hobbes frequently fight with one another. Hobbes pounces on Calvin when Calvin returns home from school, throws snowballs at him, and knows things that Calvin doesn't. They climb trees together that Calvin could not possibly climb while carrying a large, stuffed tiger, and there is at least one tree that Calvin cannot even climb alone-- he depends on Hobbes' tiger skills to scale the trunk so Hobbes can drop him a rope.
In the most telling incident, Hobbes once tied Calvin to a chair in Calvin's room. Calvin's parents were as baffled as Sir Geoffrey Ingram Taylor.
What? Who?
Taylor performed the first low-intensity double-slit experiment. You see, once upon a time, photons (light) were considered to be particles. Isaac Newton thought so. The photoelectric effect seemed to confirm it.
But other experiments suggested otherwise. Passing photons through a double slit produces an interference pattern that can only be caused by overlapping waves.
The bar at the far right is a frontal view of the target panel, showing the interference pattern.
In 1909, Taylor did this experiment sending through just one photon at a time, telling the photon in no uncertain terms that it was going to have to pick a slit and go with it. Nonetheless, after many photons had been sent through, the same pattern emerged, showing that those elusive little photons were capable of interfering with themselves as a result of the neighboring slit which they didn't pass through but, you know, might have.
Thus was the foundation of quantum mechanics confirmed. Everything in the universe has wave-particle duality.
And so my deep thought for today is this: Hobbes is a quantum tiger. He has stuffed-anthropomorphic duality. Whether any experiment measures him as stuffed or anthropomorphic depends on the nature of the experiment. If you try very hard to force the situation-- say, by having Hobbes tie Calvin to a chair-- you will get a "what the hell?" moment just like the low-intensity double slit experiment.
Models
Now we return to today's trivia question: What makes objects fall toward the Earth and causes the Earth to go around the sun?
Did you say "gravity"? You are correct! And totally wrong!
Newton's Law of Gravity is a law and not a theory. In science, a law describes a consistently observed empirical relationship without any underlying explanation. In other words, the law tells us what happens, but not why it happens. Scientific theories describe causes. For now, the theory of gravity is covered by the general theory of relativity.
Of course, any theory has to be based on further and more basic assumptions for which there are no explained causes. At some point, you have to say "charge exists as a fundamental quality" and let it go at that. But in science, that should only be happening when something is reduced to elementary physics.
As a more illustrative example, consider the biological observation that mammals get bigger and fatter as one moves closer to the poles. This could be described as a law. But being close to the poles does not cause mammals to get fatter. Fundamentally, it is not even correct to say that cold climate causes mammals to get fatter (although it may be convenient, and perfectly acceptable, to posit such an explanation among biologists who do understand the root causes). One does not state the true cause until one notes that DNA mutates, replicates, and determines the characteristics of an organism. (And at that point, the biologist can be satisfied that he's reached the root cause within his domain, and pass on the 'why' of DNA's molecular properties to the chemists and physicists).
The worst idiots are the conventional economists (you knew I couldn't write a blog without taking a shot). They have no theories whatsoever and rely entirely upon spurious laws. The believe that increased consumer spending causes increased economic production. And it's not just the simple post hoc, ergo propter hoc fallacies that trip them up. The also believe that low interest rates spur economic development, and can point to "experiments" (Central Bank manipulation) that seem to confirm this. But they are as lost and reckless as a biologist who dumps sheep in Antarctica to make them grow more woolly then scratches his head when the sheep all die.
Cheers,
Jason
Style
The primary character is Calvin, an imaginative six-year-old boy. Much of the strip is seen from Calvin's perspective, which means the reader sees whatever Calvin imagines. Then we are frequently shifted back to a 'normal' perspective to show that these events were only the product of Calvin's mind.
Hints
All in good fun, right? But the strip drops occasional hints that our epistemology may be flawed. Calvin's father gives outlandish explanations for how the world works, telling Calving that light bulbs are magic and that the sun sets in Arizona, thereby turning the desert rocks red. And although Calvin rejects his father's moral and character lessons, he remarks after one of these flawed explanations, "I hope someday I'm as smart as dad is."
But Calvin doesn't always believe his father. He once tells Hobbes,
Since September it's just gotten colder and colder. There's less daylight now, I've noticed too. This can only mean one thing - the sun is going out. In a few more months the Earth will be a dark and lifeless ball of ice. Dad says the sun isn't going out. He says its colder because the earth's orbit is taking us farther from the sun. He says winter will be here soon.
Isn't it sad how some people's grip on their lives is so precarious that they'll embrace any preposterous delusion rather than face an occasional bleak truth?
Just as curious as Calvin's misdirected evaluation is the fact that his father is wrong on nearly every count. Seasonal change is caused by the Earth's axial tilt; as winter approaches in the northern hemisphere, the Earth is moving closer to the sun; and the planet overall is actually warmer when it's further away (the northern hemisphere has a lot more land, so its summer absorbs more solar radiation than the southern hemisphere's summer).
If there are lessons here-- unintentional, I'm sure-- the first is that the trappings of science do not automatically validate a theory.
The second, and perhaps more esoteric, lesson is that a model should not be confused with reality. For example, ask a friend-- or ask yourself-- why objects fall toward the Earth. Ask why the Earth goes around the sun.
Hold that thought for a minute...
Hobbes
Hobbes is Calvin's tiger. At first blush, he seems to be a stuffed tiger who is anthropomorphized by another flight of Calvin's fancy. But with a more thorough examination, this is seen to be impossible.
Calvin and Hobbes frequently fight with one another. Hobbes pounces on Calvin when Calvin returns home from school, throws snowballs at him, and knows things that Calvin doesn't. They climb trees together that Calvin could not possibly climb while carrying a large, stuffed tiger, and there is at least one tree that Calvin cannot even climb alone-- he depends on Hobbes' tiger skills to scale the trunk so Hobbes can drop him a rope.
In the most telling incident, Hobbes once tied Calvin to a chair in Calvin's room. Calvin's parents were as baffled as Sir Geoffrey Ingram Taylor.
What? Who?
Taylor performed the first low-intensity double-slit experiment. You see, once upon a time, photons (light) were considered to be particles. Isaac Newton thought so. The photoelectric effect seemed to confirm it.
But other experiments suggested otherwise. Passing photons through a double slit produces an interference pattern that can only be caused by overlapping waves.
The bar at the far right is a frontal view of the target panel, showing the interference pattern.In 1909, Taylor did this experiment sending through just one photon at a time, telling the photon in no uncertain terms that it was going to have to pick a slit and go with it. Nonetheless, after many photons had been sent through, the same pattern emerged, showing that those elusive little photons were capable of interfering with themselves as a result of the neighboring slit which they didn't pass through but, you know, might have.
Thus was the foundation of quantum mechanics confirmed. Everything in the universe has wave-particle duality.
And so my deep thought for today is this: Hobbes is a quantum tiger. He has stuffed-anthropomorphic duality. Whether any experiment measures him as stuffed or anthropomorphic depends on the nature of the experiment. If you try very hard to force the situation-- say, by having Hobbes tie Calvin to a chair-- you will get a "what the hell?" moment just like the low-intensity double slit experiment.
Models
Now we return to today's trivia question: What makes objects fall toward the Earth and causes the Earth to go around the sun?
Did you say "gravity"? You are correct! And totally wrong!
Newton's Law of Gravity is a law and not a theory. In science, a law describes a consistently observed empirical relationship without any underlying explanation. In other words, the law tells us what happens, but not why it happens. Scientific theories describe causes. For now, the theory of gravity is covered by the general theory of relativity.
Of course, any theory has to be based on further and more basic assumptions for which there are no explained causes. At some point, you have to say "charge exists as a fundamental quality" and let it go at that. But in science, that should only be happening when something is reduced to elementary physics.
As a more illustrative example, consider the biological observation that mammals get bigger and fatter as one moves closer to the poles. This could be described as a law. But being close to the poles does not cause mammals to get fatter. Fundamentally, it is not even correct to say that cold climate causes mammals to get fatter (although it may be convenient, and perfectly acceptable, to posit such an explanation among biologists who do understand the root causes). One does not state the true cause until one notes that DNA mutates, replicates, and determines the characteristics of an organism. (And at that point, the biologist can be satisfied that he's reached the root cause within his domain, and pass on the 'why' of DNA's molecular properties to the chemists and physicists).
The worst idiots are the conventional economists (you knew I couldn't write a blog without taking a shot). They have no theories whatsoever and rely entirely upon spurious laws. The believe that increased consumer spending causes increased economic production. And it's not just the simple post hoc, ergo propter hoc fallacies that trip them up. The also believe that low interest rates spur economic development, and can point to "experiments" (Central Bank manipulation) that seem to confirm this. But they are as lost and reckless as a biologist who dumps sheep in Antarctica to make them grow more woolly then scratches his head when the sheep all die.
Cheers,
Jason
15 August 2011
Recession and Debt
The Bamboo-zle
Act I: Savings
Priscilla the Panda lived on the edge of a very long, low hill. This kept her and the other pandas safe from nocturnal predators, but in order to get food, Priscilla had to make a long and difficult climb down the hill, every single day, just so she could reach the bamboo forest on the opposite side of the ravine.
A full day of climbing and foraging yielded twenty pounds of bamboo, just enough to keep Priscilla alive. But Priscilla was ambitious. She realized that if she set out at the break of dawn, risked a few predators, and worked very hard, she could gather twenty-five pounds of bamboo a day. And so she did. For four months, Priscilla worked her little black and white butt off, setting aside the accumulated surplus.
"I now have 600 pounds of bamboo!" thought Priscilla. "That is very nice, because I could relax and take a month-long vacation. But working at this rate, I shall die of exhaustion before I can retire. If only the daily climb were not so difficult!"
So she sat and thought very hard: "Babmoo is good to eat, but it is also sturdy. I think I will build a ladder." And so she did. Priscilla was not really very good at building things, so it took her three weeks to build a ladder. But it was a good ladder, and used only 180 pounds of Priscilla's surplus bamboo. So she was rather surprised to find that all of her savings were gone when she had finished.
"But silly me! I have eaten the other 420 pounds, of course. I have been on the hill building my ladder, instead of gathering food. Well, let's see what it got me."
Priscilla had guessed correctly. The ladder saved so much time that she could now gather twenty-eight pounds of bamboo each day, with no more effort than was previously required to gather twenty. And so each day she ate 20 pounds of bamboo; she set aside 5 pounds to live on when she was old and could not forage; and she put aside 3 pounds each day for replacing parts of the ladder (and to give her something to eat on days when she did repair work).
Act II: Credit
After another three months, Priscilla's neighbor Freddie came over to look at her ladder. "That looks very useful. Could I climb down your ladder, too?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea," said Priscilla. "The ladder would wear out twice as fast, and we would both end out in the same part of the bamboo forest. There would not be enough food! I think you should build your own ladder."
"Oh!" said Freddie. "But I have eaten all of my bamboo. Will you give me yours?"
Priscilla did not like this idea, because she had worked hard, and done some very hard thinking, in order get 450 pounds saved up. But she did not want to be mean. Fortunately, her other neighbor, Oswald, happend to come upon the conversation at that point.
"Shame on you, Freddie!" scolded Oswald. He was older, and very wise. "That is Priscilla's bamboo, and not yours to take. Besides, you have big, clumsy paws. I think it would take you a month to make a ladder, and Priscilla does not have enough saved for that."
"I guess so," said Freddie. Nonetheless, he eyed Priscilla's stash with more than a hint of greed.
"I have another idea," said Oswald. "I am very good with my paws. I could build a ladder in two weeks, using only 460 pounds of bamboo (counting what I eat). If Priscilla will loan me that much, I will pay her back 480 pounds over the next three months out of my surplus."
"You would give me back more than I loaned you?" said Priscilla, quite pleased at the idea. "That is very nice!"
"It is nice for me!" said Oswald. "I will have that much extra because of the ladder, and I will never have to work extra-hard like you did."
They were both very happy. But Freddie was not. "What about me?" he cried. "Can't you save some more, and loan me 740 pounds, if I pay you back a bit more?"
"Um..." said Priscilla, "I think Oswald should go first because he's faster."
"Yes," said Oswald. "And when I am done, I will make another ladder for Freddie, if he pays me 550 pounds of bamboo out of his surplus."
"Okay!" said Freddie. "It would have cost me a lot more to make my own. That is very nice!"
"It is nice for me!" said Oswald. "It will only cost me 480 pounds to make. But you will have to wait until Priscilla has saved up more bamboo. I cannot make a ladder out of wishes."
Act III: Fiat
After a year or so, eight of the twelve pandas on the hill were working with ladders.
The eight pandas with ladders gathered 28 pounds per day each, less what they had to spend on maintenance (3 pounds/day/ladder) for a net total of 200 pounds per day.
Two more pandas were still working the old-fashioned way, gathering 20 pounds per day, and another panda was working extra-hard like Priscilla did, gathering 25 per day without a ladder, so she could be first to buy the next ladder.
Oswald spent most of his time making ladders (he was very good at it). So the eleven foraging pandas gathered an aggregate of 265 pounds of bamboo, and the twelve total pandas had to eat 240 pounds. Because of all the ladder-making, they'd only saved up-- at that point-- 400 pounds. But that was just enough for Oswald to start on the next ladder, thanks to the fact that the surplus-producing pandas had pooled their extra bamboo into a kind of "bank" so they could all earn interest like Priscilla.
But on that day, a stranger arrived in the forest. He looked like a skinny, mostly hairless panda, and called himself a "Maynard". He talked really, really smart, and was very good at math, and promised the pandas that they could be a whole lot better off if they'd stimulate their economy with central banking.
"You have the right idea," said Maynard. "You're investing in ladders. But you should invest a lot more!"
"Okay," said the pandas eagerly. "How do we do that?"
"Your investment funds are artificially restricted by the supply of bamboo," said Maynard loftily. "So the first thing you need to do is agree to stop using bamboo for making loans. You have to put all of that surplus bamboo into a central bank, and then let me hand out paper counters that we'll call 'shoots'. That will be your money."
The pandas were very confused, but Maynard seemed so very nice and smart. So they promised to use Shoots for money. Priscilla had 100 pounds of bamboo saved, which she was about to loan to Oswald. But she dutifully deposited this in exchange for 100 slips of paper Shoots. It all seemed very much the same to her. How would Maynard make them all rich?
"Your interest rates are ridiculously high," explained Maynard. "I calculate over 4% per quarter-- no wonder you have so little investment! Henceforth, then, I will issue loans of Shoots for a 6% annual interest rate. If you borrow 200 Shoots, your monthly interest will be only one Shoot."
Priscilla, who had been earning good interest making ladder loans, wasn't sure exactly what that meant. She thought about it all night long, and then went to see Mayanard in the morning. "Mr. Maynard?" she asked, "what do I do with these Shoots now? Does my bamboo earn interest?"
"Oh no, my dear," said Maynard effusively. "We don't want capital funds sitting idle! Those Shoots are your money now-- you need to invest those."
"And we have just the thing!" said Willy and Billy, arriving on the scene. They were two of the last pandas without ladders. "Maynard has taught us to think big. Take those ladders, for instance-- they're nice, but they'll never be worth more than an extra five pounds per day."
"But we've figured out that we can build a network of bridges," said Billy excitedly. "Just one bridge can allow four pandas to cross the ravine, because it's so quick you can split up when you get to the other side. With the added speed, and the fact that it's easier to carry stuff back, an average panda can forage thirty pounds of bamboo each day!"
"With minimal maintenance," added Willy. "We're going to compress the bamboo as we build, to give it more strength. Then when everything's in place, we'll coat it in oil to prevent decay."
"Wow," said Priscilla. "How long will that take?"
"Not too long," said Billy quickly. "Maybe three months."
"And, er... 6000 pounds of bamboo," added Willy. "So 10600 pounds altogether, with what we'll have to eat while working. But in the long run, it's worth it."
In the long run...
Their new central bank could loan them all the Shoots they needed, but Maynard seemed to think it important that Billy and Willy had a least a token 'private investment'. So, with his encouragement, Priscilla gave her Shoots to the bridge-builders in exchange for a share of the eventual profits.
Work began immediately, and so did the problems.
Oswald wanted to build another ladder, but all he had was paper Shoots and no bamboo. Maynard told him to buy the bamboo 'on the market.' After all, there were still eight pandas each producing 5 pounds surplus every day. But Billy and Willy had to buy every last pound to feed themselves and construct their bridge, and so-- armed with Shoots issued by Maynard-- they bid up the price of bamboo. By the end of the first day, one pound of bamboo cost two Shoots.
Oswald refused to take out a loan, and went back to foraging the hard way.
Meanwhile, Maynard promised to gradually "sell down" the central bank's bamboo reserves to ease inflation.
After one week, the central bank had "sold down" 100 pounds of bamboo, which represented the entirety of bridge construction. The aggregate surplus from ladder-using pandas was just enough to feed Billy and Willy.
"Invest!" encouraged Maynard. During the second week, the ladder-using pandas stopped setting aside bamboo for maintenance. After all, the ladders would be obsolete before long. This freed another 168 pounds of bamboo for construction, which added 250 pounds during that second week (with another "sell down").
"Opportunity!" screamed Maynard. During the third week, all of the foraging pandas (ladder or not) kicked into high gear, adding another 50 pounds total each day through sheer effort, just as Priscilla had long ago done to build her initial ladder. It was difficult, but it seemed like a smart move. On the one hand, their ladders would not last long, so the bridge had to be a priority. Furthermore, the money was just too good to pass up-- Billy and Willy had raised the price of bamboo to 3 Shoots per pound. A record 518 pounds of bridge were added.
In the fourth week of construction, Priscilla's ladder-- the oldest of the bunch-- broke from lack of maintenance. Oswald-- the oldest of the pandas-- fell back to sustenance level, having exhausted his physical reserves. With a small sell down, 450 pounds of bridge were added.
As the second month began, the price of bamboo soared to 4 Shoots per pound. Two of the pandas who were still producing surplus stopped selling and began hoarding, invoking threats of legal action from Maynard. Then another ladder broke, dropping the weekly surplus to 245 pounds.
By the end of the second month, a mere three pandas were selling bamboo to supply the bridge, and only one of these had a ladder. The central bank's reserves were exhausted and the bridge was less than half complete. Billy and Willy were forced to abandon the project, unable to purchase enough bamboo to feed themselves.
The bridge material, smashed down for construction, was unsuitable for consumption or ladder-making. Nor could the project be resumed at a later date, because the oils had never been applied.
Oswald died a week later; he was already too old to forage every single day, and had hoped to survive by spending half his time reparing ladders. The pandas had lost their best ladder-maker, and the likes of Billy and Willy did not learn the trade because they were busy building a bridge.
"Stupid bears," said Maynard, as he drifted away from the forest. "Serves 'em right for not consuming enough."
What happened, in a nutshell
The pandas interest rates were not "too high". They reflected the market reality, namely, the shortage of surplus bamboo which could be dedicated to future projects. By creating fiat money, Maynard induced misallocation of those scarce resources, which caused crippling damage to the panda economy.
What we're more likely to see in our world is something like this: The Federal Reserve lowers interests rates, which creates a dramatic rise in housing prices. The margins double, and consequently, so does the number of realtors. So Mr. Jack Stone, a clever entrepreneur, starts a business which creates virtual home tours with high-tech software. He operates at a loss for several years, which can be perfectly acceptable even in a stable monetary climate, but the long-term projection says he'll make a profit once his business expands, streamlines, and enjoys better economy of scale.
But of course, that never happens. The housing bubble bursts and Jack Stone's little tech startup goes bankrupt. Think about the nature of what is "invested" in this sort of scenario: Organization, legal fees, startup costs, advertising, marketing, specialized software, video of selected houses, more advertising, and more marketing. These "investments" are pure dead weight. If the company's product is not of value, then it's all gone to waste. It cannot be transferred to a more productive industry, nor can it be realistically "picked up" where it left off several years down the road. A bamboo bridge seems sane by comparison.
And there's your recession. Savings accounts are indirectly plundered; retirement pensions are devalued; maintenance of second-order goods (like the ladder) is neglected; bad investments suck up resources; physical stocks and real savings are depleted; and workers are mis-trained, mis-educated, and sucked into dead-end industries.[1]
Anticipating one final question: If this is all true about the effects of fiat money, wouldn't investors, stockbrokers, and big corporations figure it out and avoid the downfalls?
Some of them certainly would, if they could. But in the real world, we don't have bamboo. You must use federal dollars because it's the law. Holding and spending gold as money is difficult and generally illegal, precisely to make sure the Fed can plunder your savings through inflation. If you try to be frugal and hold onto cash while avoiding debt, then you're the sucker who gets plundered, and the boom will just go on longer thanks to your unpaid contribution. And, above all, the Fed is not a predictable force of nature. If the market doesn't jump like it wants it too, the Fed can lower interest rates even further, and when it shall raise them again, nobody knows.
[1] Time published this list of good jobs in a recession. There are lots of government jobs, naturally (why should they suffer?). But the actual marketable skills include auto repair, general maintenance and repair, and-- above all-- human repair (medical).
Even more telling is this article on the higher education bubble.
Act I: Savings
Priscilla the Panda lived on the edge of a very long, low hill. This kept her and the other pandas safe from nocturnal predators, but in order to get food, Priscilla had to make a long and difficult climb down the hill, every single day, just so she could reach the bamboo forest on the opposite side of the ravine.
A full day of climbing and foraging yielded twenty pounds of bamboo, just enough to keep Priscilla alive. But Priscilla was ambitious. She realized that if she set out at the break of dawn, risked a few predators, and worked very hard, she could gather twenty-five pounds of bamboo a day. And so she did. For four months, Priscilla worked her little black and white butt off, setting aside the accumulated surplus.
"I now have 600 pounds of bamboo!" thought Priscilla. "That is very nice, because I could relax and take a month-long vacation. But working at this rate, I shall die of exhaustion before I can retire. If only the daily climb were not so difficult!"
So she sat and thought very hard: "Babmoo is good to eat, but it is also sturdy. I think I will build a ladder." And so she did. Priscilla was not really very good at building things, so it took her three weeks to build a ladder. But it was a good ladder, and used only 180 pounds of Priscilla's surplus bamboo. So she was rather surprised to find that all of her savings were gone when she had finished.
"But silly me! I have eaten the other 420 pounds, of course. I have been on the hill building my ladder, instead of gathering food. Well, let's see what it got me."
Priscilla had guessed correctly. The ladder saved so much time that she could now gather twenty-eight pounds of bamboo each day, with no more effort than was previously required to gather twenty. And so each day she ate 20 pounds of bamboo; she set aside 5 pounds to live on when she was old and could not forage; and she put aside 3 pounds each day for replacing parts of the ladder (and to give her something to eat on days when she did repair work).
Act II: Credit
After another three months, Priscilla's neighbor Freddie came over to look at her ladder. "That looks very useful. Could I climb down your ladder, too?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea," said Priscilla. "The ladder would wear out twice as fast, and we would both end out in the same part of the bamboo forest. There would not be enough food! I think you should build your own ladder."
"Oh!" said Freddie. "But I have eaten all of my bamboo. Will you give me yours?"
Priscilla did not like this idea, because she had worked hard, and done some very hard thinking, in order get 450 pounds saved up. But she did not want to be mean. Fortunately, her other neighbor, Oswald, happend to come upon the conversation at that point.
"Shame on you, Freddie!" scolded Oswald. He was older, and very wise. "That is Priscilla's bamboo, and not yours to take. Besides, you have big, clumsy paws. I think it would take you a month to make a ladder, and Priscilla does not have enough saved for that."
"I guess so," said Freddie. Nonetheless, he eyed Priscilla's stash with more than a hint of greed.
"I have another idea," said Oswald. "I am very good with my paws. I could build a ladder in two weeks, using only 460 pounds of bamboo (counting what I eat). If Priscilla will loan me that much, I will pay her back 480 pounds over the next three months out of my surplus."
"You would give me back more than I loaned you?" said Priscilla, quite pleased at the idea. "That is very nice!"
"It is nice for me!" said Oswald. "I will have that much extra because of the ladder, and I will never have to work extra-hard like you did."
They were both very happy. But Freddie was not. "What about me?" he cried. "Can't you save some more, and loan me 740 pounds, if I pay you back a bit more?"
"Um..." said Priscilla, "I think Oswald should go first because he's faster."
"Yes," said Oswald. "And when I am done, I will make another ladder for Freddie, if he pays me 550 pounds of bamboo out of his surplus."
"Okay!" said Freddie. "It would have cost me a lot more to make my own. That is very nice!"
"It is nice for me!" said Oswald. "It will only cost me 480 pounds to make. But you will have to wait until Priscilla has saved up more bamboo. I cannot make a ladder out of wishes."
Act III: Fiat
After a year or so, eight of the twelve pandas on the hill were working with ladders.
The eight pandas with ladders gathered 28 pounds per day each, less what they had to spend on maintenance (3 pounds/day/ladder) for a net total of 200 pounds per day.
Two more pandas were still working the old-fashioned way, gathering 20 pounds per day, and another panda was working extra-hard like Priscilla did, gathering 25 per day without a ladder, so she could be first to buy the next ladder.
Oswald spent most of his time making ladders (he was very good at it). So the eleven foraging pandas gathered an aggregate of 265 pounds of bamboo, and the twelve total pandas had to eat 240 pounds. Because of all the ladder-making, they'd only saved up-- at that point-- 400 pounds. But that was just enough for Oswald to start on the next ladder, thanks to the fact that the surplus-producing pandas had pooled their extra bamboo into a kind of "bank" so they could all earn interest like Priscilla.
But on that day, a stranger arrived in the forest. He looked like a skinny, mostly hairless panda, and called himself a "Maynard". He talked really, really smart, and was very good at math, and promised the pandas that they could be a whole lot better off if they'd stimulate their economy with central banking.
"You have the right idea," said Maynard. "You're investing in ladders. But you should invest a lot more!"
"Okay," said the pandas eagerly. "How do we do that?"
"Your investment funds are artificially restricted by the supply of bamboo," said Maynard loftily. "So the first thing you need to do is agree to stop using bamboo for making loans. You have to put all of that surplus bamboo into a central bank, and then let me hand out paper counters that we'll call 'shoots'. That will be your money."
The pandas were very confused, but Maynard seemed so very nice and smart. So they promised to use Shoots for money. Priscilla had 100 pounds of bamboo saved, which she was about to loan to Oswald. But she dutifully deposited this in exchange for 100 slips of paper Shoots. It all seemed very much the same to her. How would Maynard make them all rich?
"Your interest rates are ridiculously high," explained Maynard. "I calculate over 4% per quarter-- no wonder you have so little investment! Henceforth, then, I will issue loans of Shoots for a 6% annual interest rate. If you borrow 200 Shoots, your monthly interest will be only one Shoot."
Priscilla, who had been earning good interest making ladder loans, wasn't sure exactly what that meant. She thought about it all night long, and then went to see Mayanard in the morning. "Mr. Maynard?" she asked, "what do I do with these Shoots now? Does my bamboo earn interest?"
"Oh no, my dear," said Maynard effusively. "We don't want capital funds sitting idle! Those Shoots are your money now-- you need to invest those."
"And we have just the thing!" said Willy and Billy, arriving on the scene. They were two of the last pandas without ladders. "Maynard has taught us to think big. Take those ladders, for instance-- they're nice, but they'll never be worth more than an extra five pounds per day."
"But we've figured out that we can build a network of bridges," said Billy excitedly. "Just one bridge can allow four pandas to cross the ravine, because it's so quick you can split up when you get to the other side. With the added speed, and the fact that it's easier to carry stuff back, an average panda can forage thirty pounds of bamboo each day!"
"With minimal maintenance," added Willy. "We're going to compress the bamboo as we build, to give it more strength. Then when everything's in place, we'll coat it in oil to prevent decay."
"Wow," said Priscilla. "How long will that take?"
"Not too long," said Billy quickly. "Maybe three months."
"And, er... 6000 pounds of bamboo," added Willy. "So 10600 pounds altogether, with what we'll have to eat while working. But in the long run, it's worth it."
In the long run...
Their new central bank could loan them all the Shoots they needed, but Maynard seemed to think it important that Billy and Willy had a least a token 'private investment'. So, with his encouragement, Priscilla gave her Shoots to the bridge-builders in exchange for a share of the eventual profits.
Work began immediately, and so did the problems.
Oswald wanted to build another ladder, but all he had was paper Shoots and no bamboo. Maynard told him to buy the bamboo 'on the market.' After all, there were still eight pandas each producing 5 pounds surplus every day. But Billy and Willy had to buy every last pound to feed themselves and construct their bridge, and so-- armed with Shoots issued by Maynard-- they bid up the price of bamboo. By the end of the first day, one pound of bamboo cost two Shoots.
Oswald refused to take out a loan, and went back to foraging the hard way.
Meanwhile, Maynard promised to gradually "sell down" the central bank's bamboo reserves to ease inflation.
After one week, the central bank had "sold down" 100 pounds of bamboo, which represented the entirety of bridge construction. The aggregate surplus from ladder-using pandas was just enough to feed Billy and Willy.
"Invest!" encouraged Maynard. During the second week, the ladder-using pandas stopped setting aside bamboo for maintenance. After all, the ladders would be obsolete before long. This freed another 168 pounds of bamboo for construction, which added 250 pounds during that second week (with another "sell down").
"Opportunity!" screamed Maynard. During the third week, all of the foraging pandas (ladder or not) kicked into high gear, adding another 50 pounds total each day through sheer effort, just as Priscilla had long ago done to build her initial ladder. It was difficult, but it seemed like a smart move. On the one hand, their ladders would not last long, so the bridge had to be a priority. Furthermore, the money was just too good to pass up-- Billy and Willy had raised the price of bamboo to 3 Shoots per pound. A record 518 pounds of bridge were added.
In the fourth week of construction, Priscilla's ladder-- the oldest of the bunch-- broke from lack of maintenance. Oswald-- the oldest of the pandas-- fell back to sustenance level, having exhausted his physical reserves. With a small sell down, 450 pounds of bridge were added.
As the second month began, the price of bamboo soared to 4 Shoots per pound. Two of the pandas who were still producing surplus stopped selling and began hoarding, invoking threats of legal action from Maynard. Then another ladder broke, dropping the weekly surplus to 245 pounds.
By the end of the second month, a mere three pandas were selling bamboo to supply the bridge, and only one of these had a ladder. The central bank's reserves were exhausted and the bridge was less than half complete. Billy and Willy were forced to abandon the project, unable to purchase enough bamboo to feed themselves.
The bridge material, smashed down for construction, was unsuitable for consumption or ladder-making. Nor could the project be resumed at a later date, because the oils had never been applied.
Oswald died a week later; he was already too old to forage every single day, and had hoped to survive by spending half his time reparing ladders. The pandas had lost their best ladder-maker, and the likes of Billy and Willy did not learn the trade because they were busy building a bridge.
"Stupid bears," said Maynard, as he drifted away from the forest. "Serves 'em right for not consuming enough."
What happened, in a nutshell
The pandas interest rates were not "too high". They reflected the market reality, namely, the shortage of surplus bamboo which could be dedicated to future projects. By creating fiat money, Maynard induced misallocation of those scarce resources, which caused crippling damage to the panda economy.
What we're more likely to see in our world is something like this: The Federal Reserve lowers interests rates, which creates a dramatic rise in housing prices. The margins double, and consequently, so does the number of realtors. So Mr. Jack Stone, a clever entrepreneur, starts a business which creates virtual home tours with high-tech software. He operates at a loss for several years, which can be perfectly acceptable even in a stable monetary climate, but the long-term projection says he'll make a profit once his business expands, streamlines, and enjoys better economy of scale.
But of course, that never happens. The housing bubble bursts and Jack Stone's little tech startup goes bankrupt. Think about the nature of what is "invested" in this sort of scenario: Organization, legal fees, startup costs, advertising, marketing, specialized software, video of selected houses, more advertising, and more marketing. These "investments" are pure dead weight. If the company's product is not of value, then it's all gone to waste. It cannot be transferred to a more productive industry, nor can it be realistically "picked up" where it left off several years down the road. A bamboo bridge seems sane by comparison.
And there's your recession. Savings accounts are indirectly plundered; retirement pensions are devalued; maintenance of second-order goods (like the ladder) is neglected; bad investments suck up resources; physical stocks and real savings are depleted; and workers are mis-trained, mis-educated, and sucked into dead-end industries.[1]
Anticipating one final question: If this is all true about the effects of fiat money, wouldn't investors, stockbrokers, and big corporations figure it out and avoid the downfalls?
Some of them certainly would, if they could. But in the real world, we don't have bamboo. You must use federal dollars because it's the law. Holding and spending gold as money is difficult and generally illegal, precisely to make sure the Fed can plunder your savings through inflation. If you try to be frugal and hold onto cash while avoiding debt, then you're the sucker who gets plundered, and the boom will just go on longer thanks to your unpaid contribution. And, above all, the Fed is not a predictable force of nature. If the market doesn't jump like it wants it too, the Fed can lower interest rates even further, and when it shall raise them again, nobody knows.
[1] Time published this list of good jobs in a recession. There are lots of government jobs, naturally (why should they suffer?). But the actual marketable skills include auto repair, general maintenance and repair, and-- above all-- human repair (medical).
Even more telling is this article on the higher education bubble.
30 June 2011
Four Things Society Needs to do Differently
People often ask me, "Jason, how can we make the world a better place?" I often have a good answer, and am often interrupted by some variation of "Ugh. The question was rhetorical. I'm not listening."
Today's blog will put a few of these tidbits down in writing, so that when someone actually wants to know, the answers will be ready.
Get rid of the word "indescribable"
Quoting a dictionary,
indescribable adj 1 : that cannot be described
Note the part of a speech. It's an adjective. What is an adjective? It's a word that describes a noun. Therefore, "indescribable" describes something that (allegedly) cannot be described. It is a self-contained contradiction and therefore has no meaning. Q.E.D.
Stop electing politicians by district
I wasn't the first to come up with this idea (Robert Heinlein and L. Niel Smith have both mentioned it), but it occurred to me quite independently.
Having a government run by district-elected politicians is like having no literature available except movies that cost $50 million or more to produce. None of the small-budget films would be around. Books would be entirely excluded. You couldn't be on the market unless you had mass appeal to the lowest common denominator.
Fortunately, we don't have that system for literature. A book doesn't have to sell 100,000 copies in the ninth district of Washington to be a viable market commodity. A book can appeal to scattered elite throughout the country; and if it's really good, it will stick around, eventually get noticed, and maybe even influence some of the people who ignored it the first time around and spent their money renting Transformers 5: We've Stopped Pretending This is Live Action and Just Made a Cartoon.
But district-based elections ignore minorities. Worse, perhaps, they can barely address a complicated issue where there's a significant split of three or more (as opposed to the theoretically perfect two) viewpoints. In a geographically homogenous country, every politician runs on the same "centrist" or "majoratorian" platform, with only slight variances here and there (which have much more to do with regional business concerns and location-specific federal grants than any difference in the populace's ability to understand national issues). Then when the Senate votes 97-3 in favor of a bill, there is a false perception that they are representing a near-unanimous national opinion-- when, in actuality, it's probably closer to 55%. When they vote 55-45 in favor of a bill, they're likely representing something like 35% of the population, with another 30% opposed and the remainder uncaring or unknowing.
Require that Scrabble words be used in a sentence
Clever as I am, you might think I'm a dab hand at Scrabble. I'm not, really, because the game doesn't reward adroit language skill. Scrabble only requires that you know something is a word, not that you actually understand the word.
With advances in computer algorithms, it would not be difficult to create an impartial judge. So each time a player places a word, he/she also forms a sentence, and the computer judge determines whether or not that sentence conveys the meaning of the word; bonus points for more original usage and better demonstration of meaning.
Partly, I like this idea because it will improve our language skills as a society. But mostly, I think it will improve my Scrabble game.
Stop thinking bears are cute
Why bears? Is it because they can stand up on their hind legs and look vaguely anthropomorphic? Is it because we've seen too many Coke commercials of CG bears sharing a refreshing cola? And why doesn't that Coke freeze?
Male bears reproduce via hit-and-run tactics, leaving the lady-bear knocked up and without support. Is that cute? Let's transfer some of that affection to less-obviously-cute animals with good family values, like hyenas and vultures.
Polar bears have become a poster child for global warming concern. And if they help raise awareness of environmental problems, then rah rah, I'm all for it. But the bears themselves are worthless. They eat seals. Whup. Sharks and cetaceans can pick up the slack, I'm sure. As for their more southerly cousins in temperate forests, do they even do as much as the polar bear? Is there a danger of exploding, out-of-control berry population? And if it weren't bad enough that bears are useless, no single animal can do as much damage to a hive of honeybees as a bear. And they do it.
And if you don't like bees, then we have nothing to talk about.
Cheers,
Jason
Today's blog will put a few of these tidbits down in writing, so that when someone actually wants to know, the answers will be ready.
Get rid of the word "indescribable"
Quoting a dictionary,
indescribable adj 1 : that cannot be described
Note the part of a speech. It's an adjective. What is an adjective? It's a word that describes a noun. Therefore, "indescribable" describes something that (allegedly) cannot be described. It is a self-contained contradiction and therefore has no meaning. Q.E.D.
Stop electing politicians by district
I wasn't the first to come up with this idea (Robert Heinlein and L. Niel Smith have both mentioned it), but it occurred to me quite independently.
Having a government run by district-elected politicians is like having no literature available except movies that cost $50 million or more to produce. None of the small-budget films would be around. Books would be entirely excluded. You couldn't be on the market unless you had mass appeal to the lowest common denominator.
Fortunately, we don't have that system for literature. A book doesn't have to sell 100,000 copies in the ninth district of Washington to be a viable market commodity. A book can appeal to scattered elite throughout the country; and if it's really good, it will stick around, eventually get noticed, and maybe even influence some of the people who ignored it the first time around and spent their money renting Transformers 5: We've Stopped Pretending This is Live Action and Just Made a Cartoon.
But district-based elections ignore minorities. Worse, perhaps, they can barely address a complicated issue where there's a significant split of three or more (as opposed to the theoretically perfect two) viewpoints. In a geographically homogenous country, every politician runs on the same "centrist" or "majoratorian" platform, with only slight variances here and there (which have much more to do with regional business concerns and location-specific federal grants than any difference in the populace's ability to understand national issues). Then when the Senate votes 97-3 in favor of a bill, there is a false perception that they are representing a near-unanimous national opinion-- when, in actuality, it's probably closer to 55%. When they vote 55-45 in favor of a bill, they're likely representing something like 35% of the population, with another 30% opposed and the remainder uncaring or unknowing.
Require that Scrabble words be used in a sentence
Clever as I am, you might think I'm a dab hand at Scrabble. I'm not, really, because the game doesn't reward adroit language skill. Scrabble only requires that you know something is a word, not that you actually understand the word.
With advances in computer algorithms, it would not be difficult to create an impartial judge. So each time a player places a word, he/she also forms a sentence, and the computer judge determines whether or not that sentence conveys the meaning of the word; bonus points for more original usage and better demonstration of meaning.
Partly, I like this idea because it will improve our language skills as a society. But mostly, I think it will improve my Scrabble game.
Stop thinking bears are cute
Why bears? Is it because they can stand up on their hind legs and look vaguely anthropomorphic? Is it because we've seen too many Coke commercials of CG bears sharing a refreshing cola? And why doesn't that Coke freeze?
Male bears reproduce via hit-and-run tactics, leaving the lady-bear knocked up and without support. Is that cute? Let's transfer some of that affection to less-obviously-cute animals with good family values, like hyenas and vultures.
Polar bears have become a poster child for global warming concern. And if they help raise awareness of environmental problems, then rah rah, I'm all for it. But the bears themselves are worthless. They eat seals. Whup. Sharks and cetaceans can pick up the slack, I'm sure. As for their more southerly cousins in temperate forests, do they even do as much as the polar bear? Is there a danger of exploding, out-of-control berry population? And if it weren't bad enough that bears are useless, no single animal can do as much damage to a hive of honeybees as a bear. And they do it.
And if you don't like bees, then we have nothing to talk about.
Cheers,
Jason
27 May 2011
Who'm I Friday - Some Perspectives on Probability
So... what were the odds that I'd write another blog about probability? In retrospect, 1.0 (that's a math-y way of saying 100%), and given that blog content is not represented by an agreed-upon categorical model, that's about as close as we can get to an accurate answer.
But fear not, this one will be very light on the math. But fear, because it will be heavy on pedantic philosophizing.
Sports Predictions
Brian Burke has created a website that combines highly intelligent mathematics with the mass appeal of professional football (American football, for my global friends). That, in itself, is an improbable (tee hee) accomplishment. Burke evaluates tons of historical data to build various statistical models of player value and game outcome. These outcome predictions are presented, naturally, as probabilities.
One question Burke is frequently asked (and one that he asks of himself) is this: How is it that "luck" seems to play such a big role in what ought to be a game of pure skill?
Intelligently, Burke is quick to point out that the statistical model cannot account for all of the factors in a game like football. Brilliantly, he then goes on to analyze his own analysis to determine the limits of the model.
Now, I can't match Burke's skill with probability math, but I can give an epistemological explanation for the phenomenon we call "luck" in regard to sports predictions. Here it is:
First-- and this is something that Burke himself has described quite well-- an accurate prediction of performance doesn't necessarily produce an accurate prediction of outcome. This can be easily demonstrated by imagining a baseball game where each team gets nine singles over the course of nine innings. But the Davistown Dawgs got exactly one single per inning, and thus scored no runs; whereas the Haverford Hawgs got nine hits in a single inning, scoring seven runs. The batting, pitching and fielding performances were identical, but the Hawgs came away with a big win. This sort of thing makes analysts chuckle, and causes sports writers to rip out their hair in search of a plausible story to appease the limited imagination of their readers (and themselves). They usually come up with a bunch of nonsense about "superior clutch hitting", which they promptly ignore the following day when the tables are turned and the Dawgs blow out the Hawgs 13-1.
Second is perhaps a corollary to the first. Imagine, if you will, that Dirk Nowitzki has made his last seven free throws and then-- inexplicably-- missed. How is this possible? Shooting free throws is obviously a matter of skill, and individual differences are predictable. The answer is that Dirk himself is a microcosm of performance & outcome variability: Each time he shoots a basket, he must judge the distance to the hoop, select an angle of entry, determine the necessary force and therefore how much to contract his arm muscles, predict the necessary release timing and decide how severely to contract his wrist muscles, etc. etc. etc. Because Dirk is a living organism, his mind and body are in a constant state of change, so that not even two consecutive free throws are truly identical. If he makes several small errors in judgment, or if the errors cancel out (e.g., too much arm and not enough wrist), he can make the basket; but if one error is large, or several errors align (e.g., not enough arc and a late release) the shot will miss. Simple, right?
Third: Players and coaches employ deliberate random factors. Your team might perform best passing the ball, but if you pass on every play you will be at a disadvantage. Ergo, the better strategy is to pass often, occasionally run left, and occasionally run right. So if you run left and the opposing defense happens to blitz left (playing their own randomization strategy), that's just bad luck. Those sports writers will say otherwise, but they're probably wrong.
Fourth-- and here's the tricky one-- we have to realize that the concept of "luck" applies to the predictor, not the predictee. In other words, if I say that the Colts will beat the Saints based on my statistical model, but then the Saints beat the Colts, the Saints did not have good luck-- I had bad luck. Some would call this an inaccuracy or flaw in the statistical model, but I couldn't disagree more. If a statistical model claims to predict winners with 75% accuracy and is correct three times out of four, it is statistically perfect, just like my prediction that heads will come up 50% of the time on a fair coin flip. And similarly, if the coin comes up tails several times in a row, it is not the coin that was lucky or unlucky-- it was me. New Orleans fans should take comfort in knowing that their Saints won based on skill.
State Lotteries
Once upon a time, a person could use drugs like cocaine and heroin without becoming a social pariah, whilst gamblers were considered the heathen scourge that we cheered for superpowered movie cops to beat up on [citation needed].
Alas, for those days.
I've nothing against a friendly game of poker, mind you, but gambling against the house (or state) for a superjackpot is sheer lunacy.
Let me put it this way: Would you gamble $3,875.97 of your own money on a 258:1 shot at winning $1,000,000? No? Then quit buying lottery tickets.
Those numbers come from the Washington state lotto, which uses a 6 of 49 ticket (two tickets per $1) and offers the following prizes for picking the correct numbers:
3 / 6 = $3
4 / 6 = $30
5 / 6 = $1000
6 / 6 = $1,000,000+
There are 13,983,816 combinations possible, so for every $6,991,908 (again, two sets per $1) collected they pay out an aggregate of $749,133 to 3-number winners, $406,320 to 4-number winners, $258,000 to 5-number winners, and about $1,000,000 to 6-number winners (it's incremented when there is no winner).
Ergo, if they eliminated the super jackpot and split that $1,000,000 amongst the 258 5-number winners, they would each get $3,875.97. The current format does not do this. The current format, paying the same amount, takes away 258 chances (out of every 13,983,816) to win $3,875.97 for that one chance (out of the same 13,983,816) at a million. If you play the lottery, you are therefore accepting a gamble of $3,875.97 at 258:1 to win a million.
My proposal is that they eliminate the cognitive barriers, keep the exact same net payout ratio, and allow players to really decide what sort of stakes they want to play for. The normal drawing would therefore pay everything out to anyone who got at least 3 numbers (56:1 per 50-cent ticket) -- hence that would be $9.66 each.
Then a second drawing would be held, for an entry of $6.66 (the 3/6 winnings less the original $3 prize), that pays $122.90 at 18.44:1 odds.
Then a third drawing would charge $92.90 (the previous winnings less the original $30 prize) and pay $4,877.37 at 52.5:1 odds.
Finally, a fourth drawing would charge $3,877.37 to win $1,000,000 at 258:1 odds.
If you make the initial bet and just let it ride, your chance of winning the jackpot is the same. Some legislator might argue that $3,877.37 is too much for people to be gambling, but that's the point, dunderhead. If you like, we can limit the fourth drawing to those who are replaying previous winners, but then the legislator would sulk and whine about people not wanting to risk that kind of money once they've got it, and it takes all the fun out of having a chance to win a super jackpot right off the bat-- which is to say, the chance to fantasize about winning a super jackpot without actually considering the probabilities involved.
And that's the point.
The worst damage from these state lotteries is not the $1-$5 a week that people waste gambling, but the mental and emotional investment given to a future that is both extremely unlikely and completely beyond their control. This investment is stolen directly from financial dreams that are actionable-- like applying for a better job, improving one's education, starting a business on the side, etc. Some would argue that the amount of lost emotional investment per person is negligible. If so, I find you guilty of the continuum fallacy and sentence you to shut the hell up until your brain starts working (possibly never). One in three people in the U.S. now believe that winning a lottery jackpot is the only way to become financially secure.
Existence
Long ago, when other eight-year-olds were dreaming about being pirates or whatever, I was wondering what it would be like to meet myself.
Specifically, an exact copy of myself.
More precisely, I imagined an exact copy of myself who'd been flipped through a fourth dimension so that his left- and right-hand sides were now switched up (or perhaps mine were, neither of us would be able to tell) and how was now standing facing me on some road or path.
Most explicitly, I wondered how the heck we'd get around each other. "Let's both go left--" wouldn't work, because my left would be his right. Perhaps I'd try to climb over him while he stooped down, but then he'd do exactly the same thing; so then I'd switch-- but so would he.
Maybe we could talk things over and sort it out-- or maybe not. Whatever I decide to say, my mirror-duplicate is going to be saying the exact same thing at the exact same time. The cool thing here would be that we understood each other perfectly, but the obvious drawback is that there would be no actual conversation, and if I couldn't work it out in my head all by myself there wouldn't be any point in talking, would there?
Could I/we flip a coin? My duplicate will try the same thing (with his own coin) of course, but we'd both agree that "heads goes that way" (I point left, he points to his right, which is the same direction) and keep flipping until only one of us got heads. However... if the road is as perfectly symmetrical as us, our identical muscles are going to produce a series of identical flips.
I never resolved that, but it came back to me recently while I was mulling over the Surprise Quiz Paradox (which is a variant of the unexpected hanging paradox). The paradox involves a professor who wants to give a surprise quiz and some students who don't want to study. I decided to approach the scenario as something of a "game" with the following rules:
Each Friday, Professor X has the option of giving a quiz.
Each Thursday night, his students have the option of studying.
If there is a surprise quiz (quiz but no studying), the Professor scores three points of satisfaction. If he gives a quiz that is not a surprise, he loses one point (because he worked for nothing-- he only likes surprise quizzes). The students, on the other hand, gain three points of satisfaction if there is no quiz and no studying; if they study when there is no quiz, they lose a point (because they worked for nothing).
Superficially, it would seem that the best strategy for the students is to never study. Regardless of what the Professor does, studying will never give them more satisfaction. But with that strategy, they will be taking a quiz every week, and never get a chance at the big payoff (no study + no quiz).
The Professor might be secure in always giving quizzes, but if the students are clever they will respond by always studying (after all, studying with a quiz gives them the same satisfaction-- zero points-- as having to take a surprise quiz without studying).
When I sat back to consider this little game, I imagined the possibility of a single iteration (i.e., this only happens once). And given that the Professor and students are perfectly clever and have mutual knowledge of rationality, I concluded that there was no certain conclusion as to how either party should behave. In other words, they were in a similar boat (on a similar path) to that of me and my duplicate self. And it struck me that the only rational solution in either scenario was for at least one party to engage in random behavior. If the Professor decides on a 50-50 chance of giving a quiz, the students won't have to study, no effort will be wasted, and both parties will get pretty much the best they could get out of the deal.
And then it struck me that maybe this is why electrons and quarks and stuff have wave functions. You know, quantum physics and stuff-- reality, as far as science can observe, is not deterministic. Perhaps, given that one electron is pretty much identical to another, and those sorts of things have to interact, randomization is a precondition of existence. And no, I can't back that up with good science or even a decent theory. This is a blog. I'm allowed to speculate based on intuition. But maybe, just maybe, someone with a little more knowledge of particle physics will see a useful idea in that.
I give it 3 to 1 odds.
Cheers,
Jason
But fear not, this one will be very light on the math. But fear, because it will be heavy on pedantic philosophizing.
Sports Predictions
Brian Burke has created a website that combines highly intelligent mathematics with the mass appeal of professional football (American football, for my global friends). That, in itself, is an improbable (tee hee) accomplishment. Burke evaluates tons of historical data to build various statistical models of player value and game outcome. These outcome predictions are presented, naturally, as probabilities.
One question Burke is frequently asked (and one that he asks of himself) is this: How is it that "luck" seems to play such a big role in what ought to be a game of pure skill?
Intelligently, Burke is quick to point out that the statistical model cannot account for all of the factors in a game like football. Brilliantly, he then goes on to analyze his own analysis to determine the limits of the model.
Now, I can't match Burke's skill with probability math, but I can give an epistemological explanation for the phenomenon we call "luck" in regard to sports predictions. Here it is:
First-- and this is something that Burke himself has described quite well-- an accurate prediction of performance doesn't necessarily produce an accurate prediction of outcome. This can be easily demonstrated by imagining a baseball game where each team gets nine singles over the course of nine innings. But the Davistown Dawgs got exactly one single per inning, and thus scored no runs; whereas the Haverford Hawgs got nine hits in a single inning, scoring seven runs. The batting, pitching and fielding performances were identical, but the Hawgs came away with a big win. This sort of thing makes analysts chuckle, and causes sports writers to rip out their hair in search of a plausible story to appease the limited imagination of their readers (and themselves). They usually come up with a bunch of nonsense about "superior clutch hitting", which they promptly ignore the following day when the tables are turned and the Dawgs blow out the Hawgs 13-1.
Second is perhaps a corollary to the first. Imagine, if you will, that Dirk Nowitzki has made his last seven free throws and then-- inexplicably-- missed. How is this possible? Shooting free throws is obviously a matter of skill, and individual differences are predictable. The answer is that Dirk himself is a microcosm of performance & outcome variability: Each time he shoots a basket, he must judge the distance to the hoop, select an angle of entry, determine the necessary force and therefore how much to contract his arm muscles, predict the necessary release timing and decide how severely to contract his wrist muscles, etc. etc. etc. Because Dirk is a living organism, his mind and body are in a constant state of change, so that not even two consecutive free throws are truly identical. If he makes several small errors in judgment, or if the errors cancel out (e.g., too much arm and not enough wrist), he can make the basket; but if one error is large, or several errors align (e.g., not enough arc and a late release) the shot will miss. Simple, right?
Third: Players and coaches employ deliberate random factors. Your team might perform best passing the ball, but if you pass on every play you will be at a disadvantage. Ergo, the better strategy is to pass often, occasionally run left, and occasionally run right. So if you run left and the opposing defense happens to blitz left (playing their own randomization strategy), that's just bad luck. Those sports writers will say otherwise, but they're probably wrong.
Fourth-- and here's the tricky one-- we have to realize that the concept of "luck" applies to the predictor, not the predictee. In other words, if I say that the Colts will beat the Saints based on my statistical model, but then the Saints beat the Colts, the Saints did not have good luck-- I had bad luck. Some would call this an inaccuracy or flaw in the statistical model, but I couldn't disagree more. If a statistical model claims to predict winners with 75% accuracy and is correct three times out of four, it is statistically perfect, just like my prediction that heads will come up 50% of the time on a fair coin flip. And similarly, if the coin comes up tails several times in a row, it is not the coin that was lucky or unlucky-- it was me. New Orleans fans should take comfort in knowing that their Saints won based on skill.
State Lotteries
Once upon a time, a person could use drugs like cocaine and heroin without becoming a social pariah, whilst gamblers were considered the heathen scourge that we cheered for superpowered movie cops to beat up on [citation needed].
Alas, for those days.
I've nothing against a friendly game of poker, mind you, but gambling against the house (or state) for a superjackpot is sheer lunacy.
Let me put it this way: Would you gamble $3,875.97 of your own money on a 258:1 shot at winning $1,000,000? No? Then quit buying lottery tickets.
Those numbers come from the Washington state lotto, which uses a 6 of 49 ticket (two tickets per $1) and offers the following prizes for picking the correct numbers:
3 / 6 = $3
4 / 6 = $30
5 / 6 = $1000
6 / 6 = $1,000,000+
There are 13,983,816 combinations possible, so for every $6,991,908 (again, two sets per $1) collected they pay out an aggregate of $749,133 to 3-number winners, $406,320 to 4-number winners, $258,000 to 5-number winners, and about $1,000,000 to 6-number winners (it's incremented when there is no winner).
Ergo, if they eliminated the super jackpot and split that $1,000,000 amongst the 258 5-number winners, they would each get $3,875.97. The current format does not do this. The current format, paying the same amount, takes away 258 chances (out of every 13,983,816) to win $3,875.97 for that one chance (out of the same 13,983,816) at a million. If you play the lottery, you are therefore accepting a gamble of $3,875.97 at 258:1 to win a million.
My proposal is that they eliminate the cognitive barriers, keep the exact same net payout ratio, and allow players to really decide what sort of stakes they want to play for. The normal drawing would therefore pay everything out to anyone who got at least 3 numbers (56:1 per 50-cent ticket) -- hence that would be $9.66 each.
Then a second drawing would be held, for an entry of $6.66 (the 3/6 winnings less the original $3 prize), that pays $122.90 at 18.44:1 odds.
Then a third drawing would charge $92.90 (the previous winnings less the original $30 prize) and pay $4,877.37 at 52.5:1 odds.
Finally, a fourth drawing would charge $3,877.37 to win $1,000,000 at 258:1 odds.
If you make the initial bet and just let it ride, your chance of winning the jackpot is the same. Some legislator might argue that $3,877.37 is too much for people to be gambling, but that's the point, dunderhead. If you like, we can limit the fourth drawing to those who are replaying previous winners, but then the legislator would sulk and whine about people not wanting to risk that kind of money once they've got it, and it takes all the fun out of having a chance to win a super jackpot right off the bat-- which is to say, the chance to fantasize about winning a super jackpot without actually considering the probabilities involved.
And that's the point.
The worst damage from these state lotteries is not the $1-$5 a week that people waste gambling, but the mental and emotional investment given to a future that is both extremely unlikely and completely beyond their control. This investment is stolen directly from financial dreams that are actionable-- like applying for a better job, improving one's education, starting a business on the side, etc. Some would argue that the amount of lost emotional investment per person is negligible. If so, I find you guilty of the continuum fallacy and sentence you to shut the hell up until your brain starts working (possibly never). One in three people in the U.S. now believe that winning a lottery jackpot is the only way to become financially secure.
Existence
Long ago, when other eight-year-olds were dreaming about being pirates or whatever, I was wondering what it would be like to meet myself.
Specifically, an exact copy of myself.
More precisely, I imagined an exact copy of myself who'd been flipped through a fourth dimension so that his left- and right-hand sides were now switched up (or perhaps mine were, neither of us would be able to tell) and how was now standing facing me on some road or path.
Most explicitly, I wondered how the heck we'd get around each other. "Let's both go left--" wouldn't work, because my left would be his right. Perhaps I'd try to climb over him while he stooped down, but then he'd do exactly the same thing; so then I'd switch-- but so would he.
Maybe we could talk things over and sort it out-- or maybe not. Whatever I decide to say, my mirror-duplicate is going to be saying the exact same thing at the exact same time. The cool thing here would be that we understood each other perfectly, but the obvious drawback is that there would be no actual conversation, and if I couldn't work it out in my head all by myself there wouldn't be any point in talking, would there?
Could I/we flip a coin? My duplicate will try the same thing (with his own coin) of course, but we'd both agree that "heads goes that way" (I point left, he points to his right, which is the same direction) and keep flipping until only one of us got heads. However... if the road is as perfectly symmetrical as us, our identical muscles are going to produce a series of identical flips.
I never resolved that, but it came back to me recently while I was mulling over the Surprise Quiz Paradox (which is a variant of the unexpected hanging paradox). The paradox involves a professor who wants to give a surprise quiz and some students who don't want to study. I decided to approach the scenario as something of a "game" with the following rules:
Each Friday, Professor X has the option of giving a quiz.
Each Thursday night, his students have the option of studying.
If there is a surprise quiz (quiz but no studying), the Professor scores three points of satisfaction. If he gives a quiz that is not a surprise, he loses one point (because he worked for nothing-- he only likes surprise quizzes). The students, on the other hand, gain three points of satisfaction if there is no quiz and no studying; if they study when there is no quiz, they lose a point (because they worked for nothing).
Superficially, it would seem that the best strategy for the students is to never study. Regardless of what the Professor does, studying will never give them more satisfaction. But with that strategy, they will be taking a quiz every week, and never get a chance at the big payoff (no study + no quiz).
The Professor might be secure in always giving quizzes, but if the students are clever they will respond by always studying (after all, studying with a quiz gives them the same satisfaction-- zero points-- as having to take a surprise quiz without studying).
When I sat back to consider this little game, I imagined the possibility of a single iteration (i.e., this only happens once). And given that the Professor and students are perfectly clever and have mutual knowledge of rationality, I concluded that there was no certain conclusion as to how either party should behave. In other words, they were in a similar boat (on a similar path) to that of me and my duplicate self. And it struck me that the only rational solution in either scenario was for at least one party to engage in random behavior. If the Professor decides on a 50-50 chance of giving a quiz, the students won't have to study, no effort will be wasted, and both parties will get pretty much the best they could get out of the deal.
And then it struck me that maybe this is why electrons and quarks and stuff have wave functions. You know, quantum physics and stuff-- reality, as far as science can observe, is not deterministic. Perhaps, given that one electron is pretty much identical to another, and those sorts of things have to interact, randomization is a precondition of existence. And no, I can't back that up with good science or even a decent theory. This is a blog. I'm allowed to speculate based on intuition. But maybe, just maybe, someone with a little more knowledge of particle physics will see a useful idea in that.
I give it 3 to 1 odds.
Cheers,
Jason
17 May 2011
Inspection Time
The Visitor
I work for a big retail chain, whose name I won't mention here. But it's a retail chain and it's very big (hint, hint). My store recently had the "privilege" of hosting a big-shot visitor from corporate headquarters, something that happens only about once every year.
Fortunately(?), our gang is well-rehearsed in the preparations for visits from a regional manager, visits that happen every couple of months, and were able to spring (stumble) into action several days before the arrival of Ms. Corporate Executive.
The preparatory technique was most apparent to me as I was stocking shelves a few days after the visit: I would open a new box of merchandise, find the proper shelf location (using my excellent memory), and discover that it was already stuffed with the wrong product (one that was fully stocked in its own proper location); the original label had been yanked, and another (typically incorrect) label had been hastily placed to vaguely match the stuffed product.
This roughly quadrupled my workload. Instead of merely putting the new merchandise in its home, I had to (1) research the situation to discover what was what, (2) remove the bad label and make a new one, and (3) repack the extra merchandise in an improvised container to be stored in the back room. Hundreds of extra labor hours were scheduled, at a cost of thousands of dollars, just for the purpose of creating this mess.
It was all done quite deliberately for the "benefit" of Ms. Corporate Executive. Things like empty shelves and piles of unlogged back room merchandise reveal operational deficiencies. My own naïve thinking is that it would be wonderful for Ms. Executive to see these, because she (allegedly) has the executive wisdom to correct our errors, and (purportedly) the executive power to correct the source of problems if such is beyond our control.
What am I missing? My first hypothesis is that Ms. Executive is a blithering idiot.
My second hypothesis is that Ms. Executive is vaguely responsible for the state of our store and is afraid to look bad to her own superiors. Therefore, she warns us well in advance of her visit. Then, she gives the store exactly the casual appraisal, a wide-view visual inspection, that she knows we expect from her, one that ignores a multitude of costly errors at the level of finer detail. She concludes by sending us a glowing letter of praise, a copy of which is no doubt made for her own performance file. But if this hypothesis is true, then her own superiors must be blithering idiots.
Either way, someone is a blithering idiot.
(S)ET(I)
In the search for intelligence, let us therefore turn our immediate attention to the stars. If no extraterrestrial intelligence exists, the question is moot; or, if they do exist but will never contact us, they may as well not exist at all.
So let's assume, as the only relevant case, that alien intelligence does exist, and they might eventually contact us. What sort of logical conclusions can be drawn?
First, if there are two intelligent species in the universe (us and them), then there ought to be thousands, perhaps millions, within an advanced technology's range of contact. There should also be millions of other planets that are currently developing intelligence, either on their own or as a result of more primitive organisms being seeded. The universe is just sooooo big.
But not all species are advanced enough for interstellar travel and communication (we're not). Therefore, a finite number of species must have divided the task of watching developing civilizations amongst themselves, in addition to the tasks of maintaining ambassadors with one another and keeping watch on life-bearing but pre-intelligent planets.
Ergo, there is some kind of 'Earth Committee' that has been tasked with handling humanity. Such a committee must be concerned with potential long-term threats from Earth, because no species can evolve without an instinct for self-preservation. But they must have some morality of benevolence, or at least tolerance, because they have not destroyed us, as an advanced civilization could have easily done long ago.
Second, there is no need to search for them. In a few decades at most, we will have the technology to detect chemical signs of life on distant planets. These signs (such as free oxygen in the atmosphere) have been detectable on Earth for hundreds of millions of years. Therefore, the Earth Committee has known about us for a very long time, and would have already placed monitoring stations nearby (perhaps in the Kuyper Belt). When they feel the time is right, they will contact us.
Third, they have not openly contacted us. But with nanobots or even microscopic robots, there is no technological barrier that prevents them from influencing events on Earth.
How does that all add up? The Earth Committee is responsible for Earth. And Earth is a mess. If they show up now, it will make them look bad; and even if their superiors/peers are understanding, the Earth Committee will still be looking at a tremendous slate of problems. I think they'd rather not be burdened with all of that.
Still, I'd like a visit. Fixing our problems isn't practical, but there's something else we can do to make dropping in a more palatable proposition for the Committee: We can phoney things up.
Prepping the Planet
Let's focus on the most visible problems first-- like deforestation. What would the Earth Committee think of clear-cutting? Sure, we could explain that timber companies don't cut down their own young trees any more than a hog farmer slaughters piglets, and that rotational clear-cutting is sometimes more efficient in the long run. But not all clear-cutting happens as part of a good management plan. More to the point, the aliens don't want to hear about it. So here's what we do: Everybody needs to haul their plastic Christmas Tree out of the attic and drive it out to the nearest bare patch.
They'll believe because they WANT to believe.
Simple, right? Next environmental problem: Global warming. The temperature is, unfortunately, as plain as the time of day. Now I, for one, would love to hear some advice from an advanced intelligence, just as I would have loved to hear Ms. Executive explain why some of our shelves were empty. Maybe the aliens would tell us to spend ten more years developing infrastructure so we could afford to cut emissions for the next hundred; maybe they'd tell us that we're out of time and have to cut them now; maybe they'd tell us to stop focusing on carbon and research ways to stimulate the growth of plankton. But, again, they don't want to get involved! We simply have to hide it.
As plain as the time of day, did I say? Yes, indeed. And just as easy to obfuscate. My clock currently says 11:21 a.m.; More specifically, that's 11:21 a.m. Pacific Time; Rarely, scientifically, anal-retentively, someone might be ultra-precise and say that it's 11:21 a.m. Pacific Daylight Time, because in reality it's only 10:21 a.m. Pacific Standard Time.
Voila! We create a new temperature scale, which I hearby christen 'Centigreat'. Water freezes at -2 degrees Centigreat and boils at 98 Centigreat. Now everybody set your thermometers back two degrees and get used to the new scale.
War and violence... tricky. Or perhaps not. I recommend that every army and paramilitary organization simply keep a suicide note on file for each of their combat personnel. If they don't write one, forge it, or just claim its existence. The deceased can't contradict you when you say that he died willingly, even eagerly, for the promise of greater rewards. Problem solved. Who says we can't learn from terrorists?
Poverty and starvation? Again, I'd love to hear the alien's take on this. Perhaps they'd tell us to adopt a North Korean-style system of social ownership and central directives. Maybe they'd suggest the Hong Kong economic model, where private property encourages the creation of capital goods and people are free to produce without begging permission from those who produce nothing. Unfortunately, the more obvious the answer, the more embarrassed the Earth Committee will be if confronted by it. Therefore, I recommend we produce several billion of those t-shirts that are silk-screened to look the front of a tuxedo and distribute them to the world's poor. Heck, with lower-grade fabrics and mass production, it should be possible to give them real ones.
'Cause you just can't look poor and starving while wearing a tuxedo.
What about shortages of energy? Food? Health care? For anything else that looks impossible to fix, and difficult to disguise, we should just create a high-level organization. Declining education? How about a Department of Education-- I mean, it's a freakin' Cabinet-level department! Lack of capital? Let's set up a World Bank-- come on, it's totally, like, global. It doesn't matter if any particular institution can't improve things, or even makes them worse. What's important is that we appear to be doing something, so the Earth Committee has something positive to put in its report.
Cheers,
Jason
I work for a big retail chain, whose name I won't mention here. But it's a retail chain and it's very big (hint, hint). My store recently had the "privilege" of hosting a big-shot visitor from corporate headquarters, something that happens only about once every year.
Fortunately(?), our gang is well-rehearsed in the preparations for visits from a regional manager, visits that happen every couple of months, and were able to spring (stumble) into action several days before the arrival of Ms. Corporate Executive.
The preparatory technique was most apparent to me as I was stocking shelves a few days after the visit: I would open a new box of merchandise, find the proper shelf location (using my excellent memory), and discover that it was already stuffed with the wrong product (one that was fully stocked in its own proper location); the original label had been yanked, and another (typically incorrect) label had been hastily placed to vaguely match the stuffed product.
This roughly quadrupled my workload. Instead of merely putting the new merchandise in its home, I had to (1) research the situation to discover what was what, (2) remove the bad label and make a new one, and (3) repack the extra merchandise in an improvised container to be stored in the back room. Hundreds of extra labor hours were scheduled, at a cost of thousands of dollars, just for the purpose of creating this mess.
It was all done quite deliberately for the "benefit" of Ms. Corporate Executive. Things like empty shelves and piles of unlogged back room merchandise reveal operational deficiencies. My own naïve thinking is that it would be wonderful for Ms. Executive to see these, because she (allegedly) has the executive wisdom to correct our errors, and (purportedly) the executive power to correct the source of problems if such is beyond our control.
What am I missing? My first hypothesis is that Ms. Executive is a blithering idiot.
My second hypothesis is that Ms. Executive is vaguely responsible for the state of our store and is afraid to look bad to her own superiors. Therefore, she warns us well in advance of her visit. Then, she gives the store exactly the casual appraisal, a wide-view visual inspection, that she knows we expect from her, one that ignores a multitude of costly errors at the level of finer detail. She concludes by sending us a glowing letter of praise, a copy of which is no doubt made for her own performance file. But if this hypothesis is true, then her own superiors must be blithering idiots.
Either way, someone is a blithering idiot.
(S)ET(I)
In the search for intelligence, let us therefore turn our immediate attention to the stars. If no extraterrestrial intelligence exists, the question is moot; or, if they do exist but will never contact us, they may as well not exist at all.
So let's assume, as the only relevant case, that alien intelligence does exist, and they might eventually contact us. What sort of logical conclusions can be drawn?
First, if there are two intelligent species in the universe (us and them), then there ought to be thousands, perhaps millions, within an advanced technology's range of contact. There should also be millions of other planets that are currently developing intelligence, either on their own or as a result of more primitive organisms being seeded. The universe is just sooooo big.
But not all species are advanced enough for interstellar travel and communication (we're not). Therefore, a finite number of species must have divided the task of watching developing civilizations amongst themselves, in addition to the tasks of maintaining ambassadors with one another and keeping watch on life-bearing but pre-intelligent planets.
Ergo, there is some kind of 'Earth Committee' that has been tasked with handling humanity. Such a committee must be concerned with potential long-term threats from Earth, because no species can evolve without an instinct for self-preservation. But they must have some morality of benevolence, or at least tolerance, because they have not destroyed us, as an advanced civilization could have easily done long ago.
Second, there is no need to search for them. In a few decades at most, we will have the technology to detect chemical signs of life on distant planets. These signs (such as free oxygen in the atmosphere) have been detectable on Earth for hundreds of millions of years. Therefore, the Earth Committee has known about us for a very long time, and would have already placed monitoring stations nearby (perhaps in the Kuyper Belt). When they feel the time is right, they will contact us.
Third, they have not openly contacted us. But with nanobots or even microscopic robots, there is no technological barrier that prevents them from influencing events on Earth.
How does that all add up? The Earth Committee is responsible for Earth. And Earth is a mess. If they show up now, it will make them look bad; and even if their superiors/peers are understanding, the Earth Committee will still be looking at a tremendous slate of problems. I think they'd rather not be burdened with all of that.
Still, I'd like a visit. Fixing our problems isn't practical, but there's something else we can do to make dropping in a more palatable proposition for the Committee: We can phoney things up.
Prepping the Planet
Let's focus on the most visible problems first-- like deforestation. What would the Earth Committee think of clear-cutting? Sure, we could explain that timber companies don't cut down their own young trees any more than a hog farmer slaughters piglets, and that rotational clear-cutting is sometimes more efficient in the long run. But not all clear-cutting happens as part of a good management plan. More to the point, the aliens don't want to hear about it. So here's what we do: Everybody needs to haul their plastic Christmas Tree out of the attic and drive it out to the nearest bare patch.
They'll believe because they WANT to believe.Simple, right? Next environmental problem: Global warming. The temperature is, unfortunately, as plain as the time of day. Now I, for one, would love to hear some advice from an advanced intelligence, just as I would have loved to hear Ms. Executive explain why some of our shelves were empty. Maybe the aliens would tell us to spend ten more years developing infrastructure so we could afford to cut emissions for the next hundred; maybe they'd tell us that we're out of time and have to cut them now; maybe they'd tell us to stop focusing on carbon and research ways to stimulate the growth of plankton. But, again, they don't want to get involved! We simply have to hide it.
As plain as the time of day, did I say? Yes, indeed. And just as easy to obfuscate. My clock currently says 11:21 a.m.; More specifically, that's 11:21 a.m. Pacific Time; Rarely, scientifically, anal-retentively, someone might be ultra-precise and say that it's 11:21 a.m. Pacific Daylight Time, because in reality it's only 10:21 a.m. Pacific Standard Time.
Voila! We create a new temperature scale, which I hearby christen 'Centigreat'. Water freezes at -2 degrees Centigreat and boils at 98 Centigreat. Now everybody set your thermometers back two degrees and get used to the new scale.
War and violence... tricky. Or perhaps not. I recommend that every army and paramilitary organization simply keep a suicide note on file for each of their combat personnel. If they don't write one, forge it, or just claim its existence. The deceased can't contradict you when you say that he died willingly, even eagerly, for the promise of greater rewards. Problem solved. Who says we can't learn from terrorists?
Poverty and starvation? Again, I'd love to hear the alien's take on this. Perhaps they'd tell us to adopt a North Korean-style system of social ownership and central directives. Maybe they'd suggest the Hong Kong economic model, where private property encourages the creation of capital goods and people are free to produce without begging permission from those who produce nothing. Unfortunately, the more obvious the answer, the more embarrassed the Earth Committee will be if confronted by it. Therefore, I recommend we produce several billion of those t-shirts that are silk-screened to look the front of a tuxedo and distribute them to the world's poor. Heck, with lower-grade fabrics and mass production, it should be possible to give them real ones.
'Cause you just can't look poor and starving while wearing a tuxedo.
What about shortages of energy? Food? Health care? For anything else that looks impossible to fix, and difficult to disguise, we should just create a high-level organization. Declining education? How about a Department of Education-- I mean, it's a freakin' Cabinet-level department! Lack of capital? Let's set up a World Bank-- come on, it's totally, like, global. It doesn't matter if any particular institution can't improve things, or even makes them worse. What's important is that we appear to be doing something, so the Earth Committee has something positive to put in its report.
Cheers,
Jason
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