Reflections on life at “De Witte Wand”…

  • A Poor Thing…

    …but mine own. That’s my blog. And today, I see the cumulative hit counter has reached 200,000. Thanks for dropping by…

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  • The Science Of Gaydar

    That’s the title of a rather good article in the New York Magazine that summarises the current state of knowledge about sexual orientation and its manifestations. One niggle, it does perpetuate the "scientists try to turn sheep gay" myth, but other than that, it’s a pretty good summary.
     
    And here’s a companion piece from Discover Magazine. Mind you, I can do without cracks such as: "It is not clear if Hamer and his team found the locus of the genetic code that causes men to memorize lines from A Star Is Born". Just for the record, I have not memorised any of the lines, and while Martin can listen to, and even enjoy, Barbra Streisand, I run screaming from the room at the sound of her voice.
     
    (hat tip to Mind Hacks for the links)   

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  • Good User Interface Design

    Despite the billions that Windows Vista has probably cost to develop, the user interface still has places where the meaning is confusing, rather than clear. Take this example. As Jan Mikovsky points out, the important and salient facts are simply not obvious to the user. The likelihood that he or she will make a wrong decision is higher – and not even be realised after the fact.

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  • Vivoleum

    Jonathan Swift would have been proud. Soylent Green, anyone?

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  • Project Xanadu

    Project Xanadu was the first attempt to create Hypertext software. It was begun back in 1960 by Ted Nelson – nearly 50 years ago!
    Now, on the occasion of Nelson’s 70th birthday, version 1.0 of XanaduSpace is released.
    Somehow, despite the fact that the rival Hypertext system (the World Wide Web of Tim Berners Lee) has been sarcastically described as “the joy buzzer and the whoopee cushion of the Internet”, I don’t think that the more elegantly designed Xanadu has a hope of displacing its rival. Sometimes, technical elegance is not enough. Just being good enough at the right time and place is what wins the day. I fear Xanadu is doomed to being a footnote in the history of computing.

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  • Touchscreens

    There’s been a rash of touchscreen technologies being demonstrated recently. Here’s another one, this time from the Cambridge branch of Microsoft Research.

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  • Language, Language

    The unspeak being used in the reporting of reactions to Rushdie’s knighthood rolls on. It’s like being in a game of Whack-A-Mole. Ophelia is doing her best, but I sense that she is beginning to lose patience. Can’t say I blame her. Here are the latest three examples (I’m linking straight to Ophelia so that you can see the unspeak in the originals being exposed immediately):
     
     
     
    Inayat Bungawala in The Guardian. This latest piece by Bungawala is particularly disingenous. He expects us to fall to our knees in gratitude over the fact that he has renounced book-burning, while carefully skirting the issue of not explicitly renouncing the calls to murder Rushdie. What a piece of work he is.

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  • Cloud Atlas

    I managed to take another book off my towering to-be-read pile today. This time it was a novel – David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas. I started it yesterday, and it gripped so hard that I polished it off today. A set of six interlinked novellas, strung out along the theme of what makes us human and separated in time by thousands of years. Each novella has a unique voice and style, ranging from the historical novel, the detective novel, farce or science fiction.
     
    The whole book is in the form of an arc through time, travelling first forward through the centuries to the central novella, and then retracing the steps back to complete the other five novellas until it ends where it began, with the tale of a 19th century notary travelling in the Pacific. The climax of the central novella is wonderful – like the moment where a ball hangs in the air at the peak of its trajectory before falling back to earth. It may be bittersweet or elegaic; I don’t know, but it hangs there, perfectly. There’s much to enjoy along the way as well. I must admit The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish was great fun: “Sometimes the fluffy bunny of incredulity zooms round the bend so rapidly that the greyhound of language is left, agog, in the starting cage”. Gosh, I wish I’d thought of that line…
     
    Update: during a night of fitful sleep (my leg is still sore), I reflected some more on the conceits and motifs of Cloud Atlas. Some strike me as being a step too far, for example that all the lead characters throughout the ages share the same birthmark. Then there is the moment when the lead character in the third novella feels some mysterious pull towards the three-masted schooner on which the 19th century notary had travelled:
     
    Luisa is distracted by a strange gravity that makes her pause for a moment and look at its rigging, listen to its wooden bones creaking. … What is wrong? Luisa’s birthmark throbs. She grasps for the ends of this elastic moment, but they disappear into the past and the future.
     
    She also has another moment when she feels that she knows the Cloud Atlas Sextet, the music composed by Robert Frobisher, the lead character in the second novella in the book:
     
    The sound is pristine, riverlike, spectral, hypnotic…intimately familiar. Luisa stands, entranced as if living in a stream of time.
     
    We seem to be steering dangerously close to the territories of woo here. For me (ever the rationalist), that’s a pity, since I think that the stories are strong enough to stand on their own two feet, without what strikes me as a cheap appeal to spookiness. There are more straightforward links between the novellas anyway, and for me these are sufficient. A diary links the first and second novella, letters the second and third, an unpublished novel the third and fourth, a film links the fourth and fifth, and a recording device links the fifth and sixth.
     
    Mitchell uses other conceits as well. Events and characters mirror real life. For example, the lead characters in the second novella – an aging syphilitic composer, his wife and the composer’s amanuensis – are clearly inspired by Frederick Delius, his wife Jelka and Eric Fenby. The story of the third novella is like a remix of the Karen Silkwood affair. Mitchell also explicity connects, in order to separate, the events in his novel with the real life analogues. For example, the clerk in the music store telling Luisa that the Cloud Atlas Sextet by Robert Frobisher is “not exactly Delius, is it?”
     
    And of course, the Cloud Atlas Sextet is a musical analogue of the six novellas that make up Cloud Atlas.
     
    Oh, and SPOILER ALERT…
     
    I was disappointed by the LEXX-like revelation at the climax of the fifth novella; the scenes on board of Papa Song’s Golden Ark. I don’t think that the numbers work out. Twelve years service for a Fabricant before Xultation? I don’t think there is enough to go round, as it were, certainly not hundreds of thousands… And was that a deliberate typo: Solent Green?

    3 responses to “Cloud Atlas”

    1. […] I thought it was amazing. […]

    2. […] Mitchell’s new book The Bone Clocks is published today. I was knocked out by his Cloud Atlas and by The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, so I’m looking forward to reading the new book with […]

    3. […] Mitchell’s The Bone Clocks, which I enjoyed, but which I thought was less impressive than his Cloud Atlas, or The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet. The Bone Clocks uses the device of having different […]

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  • Billboards At The Towers Of Silence

    Mr Eugenides has the details of a sad tale that is developing around the Towers of Silence. Go and read it and marvel at the interconnectedness of life (and advertising).

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  • Haven’t You Forgotten Something?

    Today at Bletchley Park, a statue of Alan Turing will apparently be unveiled to commenorate his work done there during World War II. I say apparently, because there is no mention of it on the official Bletchley Park web site, either in the news or the events section.
     
    Yet, it appears that the people who run Bletchley Park have sent out the press release about it to "probably the largest distribution I’ve done for the park, including most consumer magazines where there is a travel (eg days out), arts or culture interest (homes, lifestyle, specialist military, history, maths, computers, womens titles etc). Plus all the broadcast, current affairs & news media" – at least according to Caroline Murdoch who works in the Bletchley Park organisation. 
     
    OK, so news of the statue’s unveiling doesn’t actually seem to have hit Bletchley Park’s own web site.
     
    What I find slightly more than just slapdash, however, is that the press release also doesn’t actually mention that Turing was gay. I would have thought that fact was rather a crucial component of his story. Let Stuart Who, over at Gay.com, take up the story, and the email exchange with Bletchley Park.
     
    Update: Well, it’s a day late, but I see that Bletchley Park has finally got around to mentioning the unveiling of the statue of Alan Turing. They still don’t acknowledge that he was gay, though, and refer coyly to the fact that "he died tragically in 1954 at the age of only 41, having received no public recognition of the colossal contribution he made to the outcome of the war and the computer age that was to follow". Hmm. I think that The Guardian captured a fuller picture in one of its leaders today:
    Turing never benefited from the revolution that he started. In 1952, he was convicted of having a sexual relationship with another man, to which he made no defence other than to say he saw nothing wrong in his actions. The conviction robbed him of his security clearance for GCHQ, for which he still worked, and made him the target for surveillance at the height of the cold war. He died after eating an apple laced with cyanide. The symbol of the half-eaten apple lives on to this day.  
    Update 2: Well, it seems as though the people at Bletchley Park have been stung by the comments such as mine that they were being mealymouthed. The web site now carries a fuller account of why Alan Turing committed suicide. Better late than never.

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  • Rent-A-Mob

    Some Muslims are soo predictable… Jesus clearly agrees with Brendan Behan that there’s no such thing as bad publicity. Still, I’m not sure that Sir Salman would appreciate the kicker in Brendan’s aphorism…

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  • Google And The Chief

    The Google Lat Long Blog has an interesting report on a recent meeting with Chief Almir, leader of the Surui Indian tribe in the Brazilian Amazon, who had come to Google headquarters with a proposition. Go and read about it. Has indeed the time come "to put down the bow and arrow, and pick up the laptop."
     
    And it makes a welcome change to see rational behaviour at a time when some people, such as Ijaz ul-Haq, are clearly demonstrating that they are not the sharpest pencil in the box.

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  • How Google Works

    The TED Blog has a pointer to some interesting details of how Google searches are architected. A snippet that I found intriguing:
    Google’s servers basically make a copy of the entire Web, page by page, every few days, storing it in their huge data centers.
    This reminds me of the mapmakers in the story by Borges, who ended up creating a map of their kingdom at a scale of 1:1…
     

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  • Goodbye, Tony

    The farewell can’t come soon enough for some people. Can’t say I blame them. Beware of Godwin’s law, though.
       

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  • Modified Utopia

    Well, it’s true that I did say that I was looking forward to last Saturday’s episode of Doctor Who. And that was indeed the case. It must also be said that Captain Jack and Derek Jacobi did not disappoint in the episode: Utopia. But, I have to also say that I found some of the plot devices (the plot being written by Russell T Davies) somewhat laughable. No, strike that, they were bloody ludicrous.
     
    I mean, we’re supposed to be at the end of time – trillions of years into the far future, when the heat death of the universe is practically complete, and yet, here are perfectly recognisable human beings, who have apparently not evolved one jot or tittle from their 21st century selves. And not only that, here’s a wee Scots lassie orphan. Er, excuse me? Did I just have a credibility by-pass or something? And, and, even worse, if such a thing is possible, the baddies appear to have been shipped in en masse from Mad Max II – the Thunderdome. Gawd, but that is really, really lame.
     
    You can tell that I found the background setting of the story woefully inadequate. It could have been OK set a few thousand years in the future, but at the end of time? I’m sorry, but that’s stretching it, and the time-space fabric, too far.
     
    And then there is also the little niggle of Professor Yana turning out to be The Master in human form, and who then regenerates into the John Saxon character and promptly steals the TARDIS to bugger off back to 21st century Britain. Supposedly, the Master has pulled the same trick as the Doctor by becoming human (Professor Yana) so that the Doctor would not sense the presence of a fellow Time Lord. Er, but as Mrs. Whyte so pertinently asks: "how come he couldn’t detect the presence of Mr Saxon/the Master in the early 21st century"?
     
    To which, I suppose, the only real answer – and one that I would do well to heed myself – is: "don’t take it all so seriously, it’s only a story, stupid".  Well, that’s true, but I do like at least a token verisimilitude in my fantasies.

    4 responses to “Modified Utopia”

    1. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      I agree some of the plot elements were quite silly, oh but Geoff, to see John Barrowman in tight t-shirt was worth it!  Capt. Jack, save me!

    2. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      I agree some of the plot elements were quite silly, oh but Geoff, to see John Barrowman in tight t-shirt was worth it!  Capt. Jack, save me!

    3. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      I agree some of the plot elements were quite silly, oh but Geoff, to see John Barrowman in tight t-shirt was worth it!  Capt. Jack, save me!

    4. Geoff Avatar
      Geoff

      Coboró, hmm, I think we can all tell what sort of fantasies you find entertaining… 🙂

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  • Garden “Open Day”

    This past weekend, we opened up the garden at our home to the public. It’s the first time we’ve ever done something like this, and we didn’t really know what to expect.

    We also asked a friend, Gerda Grashuis, if she would like to exhibit her pottery, and a neighbour, Harry Nijhuis, if he would like to use the garden to exhibit some of his sculpture. Both accepted. Martin plotted out a route through the grounds, and Harry installed his work along the route, so the garden also became a sculpture park for the weekend. And in keeping with the traditional tourist attraction, we also provided a shopping opportunity at the end of the route. As well as light refreshments, we also had another neighbour, Herman Peppelman, provide a stall of his orchard produce.

    We were lucky with the weather. Both days remained dry during opening hours, and the sun shone for much of the time. We were surprised by the degree of interest – over 150 people turned up during the course of the two days. Even though the garden wasn’t looking at its best – it was devastated by a severe hailstorm last week – people seemed to enjoy their visit.

    One of the nicest things was that members of the original farming family who owned the farmhouse over 50 years ago turned up to see how things had changed. Some of them had actually been born in the house. I showed them around inside, and they were able to describe the original layout. This type of farmhouse used to shelter both humans and animals, and our living room is where the family’s six cows were kept, with their horse stabled in what is now our kitchen. At the front of the house were the living quarters for the family. The front section had the kitchen (Martin’s study), the living room (my study), with bedstees (small beds built into cupboards) and a small staircase leading up into a part of the attic where the children slept. 

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    4 responses to “Garden “Open Day””

    1. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      It looks delightful, Geoff.  Many congrats to you and Martin!

    2. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      It looks delightful, Geoff.  Many congrats to you and Martin!

    3. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      It looks delightful, Geoff.  Many congrats to you and Martin!

    4. Geoff Avatar
      Geoff

      Coboró, thanks. Martin was especially pleased by the responses of people after all his hard work in the garden.

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  • A Blackberry?

    Danah Boyd, over at apophenia, blogs about a press release that has stopped her in her tracks:
    You can now load software in your kids’ BlackBerry and/or cell phone that will be your watchdog (to prevent them from being approached by someone potentially trying to molest them) How it works — the program will send the parents a text message when a foreign IM, text message or e-mail comes into their child’s phone or PDA (anyone not on an approved phone contact list).  
    Like Danah, that phrase "your kids’ BlackBerry" jumped out at me (and not just because whoever wrote this press release doesn’t know where to put an apostrophe). I am clearly totally out of synch with a society in which children have BlackBerries. Mobile phones, I can just about grasp; but a business tool like a BlackBerry? What happened to childhood; who stole it?
     
    And as Danah writes: Surveillance destroys parent-child relationships – technology does not solve relationship issues.

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  • Sloppy Journalism

    Oh dear, I’m sure there was a time when the BBC was considered a gold standard in journalism. But as Ophelia points out, they seem increasingly to be employing Unspeak in their reporting, whether consciously or not. Compare this opening from the Beeb’s news site yesterday:
    Iran has criticised the British government for its decision to give a knighthood to author Salman Rushdie. His book The Satanic Verses offended Muslims worldwide and led to Iran issuing a fatwa in 1989, ordering Sir Salman’s execution. 
    with this one from The Guardian:
    Iran accused Britain yesterday of insulting Islam by awarding a knighthood to Salman Rushdie, whose novel The Satanic Verses prompted the late Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini to issue a fatwa calling for his assassination. 
    If you can’t see the difference, refer to Ophelia’s excellent analysis. She nails the bastards.

    One response to “Sloppy Journalism”

    1. Andy Avatar
      Andy

      This is a really good piece.  For evil to triumph, all good men have to do is say nothing.

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  • Colin – the Gay Guinea Pig

    Trust the Dutch TV channel VPRO to come up with this: an animated cartoon series about a gay guinea pig called Colin. Actually, the trailer (also in English) looks quite intriguing.

    The first episode went out late last night – unfortunately I’d already gone to bed; exhausted by my sore leg and the two days of throwing the garden here at the farmhouse open to the public. Oh well, I’ll try and catch up next week.

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  • Signs And Signals

    A little while back, I mentioned that the topic of how the mind and consciousness comes about fascinates me. I’ve just read three books on this in quick succession, and I highly recommend all of them. 

    First up is Daniel Gilbert’s Stumbling on Happiness. As I said then, it’s an absolute joy of a book. He examines, with a not inconsiderable wit, how people react to their lives. The opening sentence reads: "Priests vow to remain celibate, physicians vow to do no harm and letter carriers vow to swiftly complete their appointed rounds despite snow, sleet and split infinitives". He goes on to explain the little-known fact that psychologists (he is one) also take a vow, and that is to publish, at some point in their professional lives, a book that contains the sentence: "The human being is the only animal that…".

    Stumbling On Happiness is Gilbert’s stab at completing the psychologists’ sentence, and he does it with: "The human being is the only animal that thinks about the future". As he says:

    "Until a chimp weeps at the thought of growing old alone, or smiles as it contemplates its summer holiday, or turns down a toffee apple because it already looks too fat in shorts, I will stand by my version of The Sentence. We think about the future in a way that no other animal can, does or ever has, and this simple, ubiquitous, ordinary act is a defining feature of our humanity.

    He goes on to illustrate the evidence for his thesis with both experimental data and illuminating vignettes on how we perceive, and attempt to create, the state of happiness.

    Next up is Richard Wiseman’s Quirkology, subtitled "the curious science of everyday lives". Again, lots of entertaining references to actual research that has thrown up surprising facts about the ways in which people behave. He closes the book with a neat piece of metaresearch: he asked people to rate factoids derived from the studies described in the book to identify those factoids that were most likely to provoke good conversation at dinner parties. He lists the resulting "top ten". My two favourites are:

    • Women van drivers are more likely than others to take more than ten items through the express lane in a supermarket, break speed limits, and park in restricted areas.
    • People would rather wear a sweater that has been dropped in dog faeces and not washed, than one that has been dry-cleaned but used to belong to a mass murderer.

    As you see, the book lives up to its title, but in with all the bizarre research are some fascinating findings about the way we behave. One negative – there is no index, which means that you will be frustrated trying to track down that precise reference to the Thirteen Club. You’ll have to trawl through the footnotes instead.

    Lastly, Chris Frith’s Making Up The Mind, subtitled "how the brain creates our mental world". Frith is a professor in neuropsychology. Like Gilbert and Wisemen, he is an entertaining writer, with the knack of explaining things well. He uses the device of having an imaginary professor of English comment on what he states, and the resulting dialogue is often wry and ironic. He makes the point that his book is not actually a theory of consciousness, instead:

    …rather than writing about consciousness, I have emphasized how much my brain knows and does without my being aware of it. My brain makes me afraid of things that I am not aware of seeing and can control complex limb movements without my knowing what I am doing. There seems very little left for consciousness to do. So, rather than asking how subjective experience can arise for activity in neurons, I ask the question, "What is consciousness for?" Or more particularly, "Why does my brain make me experience myself as a free agent?" My assumption is that we get some advantage from experiencing ourselves as free agents. So the question is: "What is this advantage?" My answer is, for the moment, pure speculation.

    As I say,  all three books are well worth reading. Sometimes you come across the same data being analysed by more than one of the authors, and that either illuminates a slightly different facet, or reinforces the same conclusions that can be drawn. All three books have extensive footnotes and references to the original research material.

    As a bonus, Gilbert’s book comes with a P.S. section which has further entertainment value in a Q & A with Professor Gilbert, a short biography, "why I write", and his top ten favourite electric guitarists. The Q&A is a particular joy. My favourites:

    Would you like to live in the eternal now? No. I enjoy remembering the past and imagining the future. My ability to do these things is among nature’s greatest gifts to me, so why would I want to get rid of it? Anyone who wants to live in the moment should have been born a mosquito.

    Do you think that we have lost some primal ignorance that would have kept us happy? No, no, no. Did I mention no? Every generation has the illusion that things were easier and better in a simpler past.Dead wrong. Things are better today than at any time in human history. Our primal ignorance is what keeps us whacking each other over the head with sticks, and not what allows us to paint a Mona Lisa or to design a space shuttle. The ‘primal ignorance that keeps us happy’ gives rise to obesity and global warming, not antibiotics or the Magna Carta. If human kind flourishes rather than flounders over the next thousand years, it will be because we fully embraced learning and reason, and not because we surrendered to some fantasy about returning to a world that never really was.

    4 responses to “Signs And Signals”

    1. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      But we always live in the eternal now.  Where else is there?  We can neither live in the past nor in the future, and living in the "now" doesn’t exclude memory or hope.  Indeed, some have made the argument that the past and the future don’t exist and thus we have nowhere to be but now.

    2. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      But we always live in the eternal now.  Where else is there?  We can neither live in the past nor in the future, and living in the "now" doesn’t exclude memory or hope.  Indeed, some have made the argument that the past and the future don’t exist and thus we have nowhere to be but now.

    3. Brian Avatar
      Brian

      But we always live in the eternal now.  Where else is there?  We can neither live in the past nor in the future, and living in the "now" doesn’t exclude memory or hope.  Indeed, some have made the argument that the past and the future don’t exist and thus we have nowhere to be but now.

    4. Geoff Avatar
      Geoff

      Coboró, I think that the point that Gilbert is making is that it is the ability to recall the past and predict the future that makes us fully human. If you remove, or severely restrict, either of those faculties (which can happen in some cases of brain damage), then what you end up with is a person who does not fully function as the rest of us.

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