Excerpts

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Dogged reporting by Shane Ryan on Grantland about Richard Fliehr, better known as professional wrestling legend Rc Flair, who is closing in on senior-citizen status and faltering badly into his dotage. Nixon didn’t get this level of scrutiny from Woodward and Bernstein. The sad story is obviously reminiscent of the great Darren Aronofsky-Mickey Rourke collaboration, The Wrestler. The opening:

“Ric Flair has been physically attacked by at least three of his four wives.

In a 2005 divorce case with Elizabeth Harrell — wife no. 2 — Flair’s lawyers detailed their accusations. “On more than one occasion,” they wrote, “Plaintiff (Beth) has assaulted the Defendant (Flair), striking him about the head and body in an effort to provoke him into a physical confrontation.”

In 2009, Flair filed a criminal complaint against Tiffany Vandemark — wife no. 3 — whom he accused of ‘hitting him in the face with a phone charger.’

And in 2010, Flair and his current wife, Jacqueline Beams, returned to their Charlotte, N.C., home after dinner at the Lodge Restaurant. There, for reasons never made explicit, Jacqueline punched him repeatedly in the face. She was arrested.

The story of Ric Flair was once about a college dropout who rose through the ranks of professional wrestling to become a legend. It was about his nickname, ‘The Nature Boy,’ and his signature figure four leglock, both lifted from an older wrestler named Buddy Rogers. It was about his multiple championships, his bleach-blond hair, his fast-talking patter (by his own reckoning, Flair was a ‘stylin’, profilin’, limousine-riding, jet-flying, kiss-stealing, wheelin’-n’-dealin’ son of a gun!’), and his signature, trademarked cry: ‘WOOO!’

Today the story is about a man known in the court system as Richard Morgan Fliehr, 62, born in 1949 and adopted by parents who raised him in Minnesota. That’s what he was called this past April, when a judge ejected Fliehr from his Charlotte home because he couldn’t pay his rent. That’s what he was called in May, when he faced an arrest order for an unpaid $35,000 loan. That’s what he’s called on the paychecks from Total Nonstop Action, a second-tier outfit where he’s still compelled to perform despite suffering from alcoholic cardiomyopathy, and where almost everything he earns goes toward old debts: lawyers, ex-wives, the IRS, former business partners, and anyone who made the mistake of lending him money.”

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“Wherever I go, I never leave a lady without a smile on her face.”

“I’m an old broken down piece of meat”:

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Google Books putting millions of searchable volumes online has opened possibilities for scholars of all sorts, including psychologists interested in analyzing the predictive nature of language. James Pennebaker, chair of the department of psychology at the University of Texas at Austin, has done such a study resulting in the book, The Secret Life of Pronouns. It’s not the point of Pennebaker’s study, but I’ve often wondered if the type of language we use changes if we are developing a serious illness but not yet aware of it. It’s really easy to read signifiers in retrospect, but perhaps they can be deciphered to predict likelihood of sickness, at least until we have a foolproof biological means of predetermining such things. From a Scientific American interview with Pennebaker conducted by Garreth Cook:

COOK: How did you become interested in pronouns?

PENNEBAKER: A complete and total accident. Until recently, I never thought about parts of speech. However, about ten years ago I stumbled on some findings that caught my attention. In the 1980s, my students and I discovered that if people were asked to write about emotional upheavals, their physical health improved. Apparently, putting emotional experiences into language changed the ways people thought about their upheavals. In an attempt to better understand the power of writing, we developed a computerized text analysis program to determine how language use might predict later health improvements. In other words, I wanted to find if there was a healthy way to write.

Much to my surprise, I soon discovered that the ways people used pronouns in their essays predicted whose health would improve the most. Specifically, those people who benefited the most from writing changed in their pronoun use from one essay to another. Pronouns were reflecting people’’s abilities to change perspective.

As I pondered these findings, I started looking at how people used pronouns in other texts — blogs, emails, speeches, class writing assignments, and natural conversation. Remarkably, how people used pronouns was correlated with almost everything I studied. For example, use of  first-person singular pronouns (I, me, my) was consistently related to gender, age, social class, honesty, status, personality, and much more. Although the findings were often robust, people in daily life were unable to pick them up when reading or listening to others. It was almost as if there was a secret world of pronouns that existed outside our awareness.”

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Dr. Pennebaker on the psychological benefits of writing:

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Joe Biden famously christened health-care reform as a “Big Fucking Deal,” but there is another BFD in his past, an inexplicable one, which may be health-care reform’s undoing when lawsuits go before the Supreme Court next year. An excerpt from Jeffrey Toobin’s excellent new New Yorker profile about Justice Clarence Thomas and his equally conservative wife, Virginia:

“Thomas was confirmed in the Senate by a vote of fifty-two to forty-eight, and neither the Judiciary Committee nor any other part of the government has since seen fit to reëxamine the Thomas-Hill controversy. Still, a good deal of evidence has since emerged about the protagonists and their testimony. Even near the end of the hearings, several other women who had worked for Thomas were prepared to testify and corroborate Hill’s testimony that Thomas had a history of making female subordinates uncomfortable with personal and sexual talk. The group included Angela Wright, Rose Jourdain, and Sukari Hardnett; other associates of Thomas, among them Kaye Savage and Fred Cooke, would have testified about the nominee’s long-standing interest in pornography, which would have corroborated Hill’s account. But Joseph Biden, the chairman of the Judiciary Committee at the time, decided not to call these witnesses. This year, Lillian McEwen, a Washington lawyer who had a long-term romantic relationship with Thomas before he met Ginni, published a memoir, D.C. Unmasked & Undressed. She, too, remarked on the Justice’s ‘strong interest in pornography,’ and she also said that Thomas scrutinized his work colleagues as prospective sexual partners. In short, virtually all the evidence that has emerged since the hearings corroborates Hill’s version of events.”

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Anita Hill, October 11, 1991:

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Much as I’ve tried to feel differently, I’ve always liked the idea of Borges much more than the actual writings of Borges. But on this, his 112th birthday, I came across “Borges, a Blind Writer With Insight,” a 1971 New York Times interview with the Argentine writer, who apparently appeared on the Today show right around that time. An excerpt:

“Today his short stories — some hardly dawdle past a paragraph — appear in The New Yorker, and they are collected in books. Essences of essences. Labyrinths within mazes within mirrors.
When he comes to this country — he is here on a visit now — he has an utterly respectful audience. How many Latin-American authors are so well translated? He is naturally taken as a candidate for elevation to the Nobel Prize.
Beware! Who knows what this Imaginary Being will say next? On the Today show on television he invoked the name of Gustave Flaubert, and actually whispered a book’s title in excellent French. The effect could not have been more startling had he changed into a Hippogriff and pecked at the startled interviewer.
Replying to questions, he draws from the cadences of memory. Borges says, ‘At my age [71], what can I do but plagiarize what I’ve already said, no?’
What shall a writer be in the glare of glosses on glosses and endless honors? Scholars consecrate volumes to his carefully turned ironies. Is he a Domesticated Industry?
Borges lives on the north side of Buenos Aires. Recently he took a taxi to the National Library on the south side. The taxi driver said, ‘Are you by any chance Borges?’
Borges said ‘Well, more or less’ or ‘I think so.'”

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Swedish Prime Minister Tage Erlander, videoconferencing, 1960.

This classic photo shows videoconferening in the days of rotary phones, which was possible in analog form right around the time of TV’s introduction, but it wasn’t available to consumers for several decades and Skype was a mere pipe dream at the time. Copy from a 1969 Bell Systems publication about the introduction of the “Picturephone”:

“THE TELEPHONE brought a new dimension to human communications. Where previously men had been able to send written messages over wires as electrical signals, the telephone made it possible for the human voice to span the miles. Now, almost a hundred years later, the telephone is commonplace and another dimension is being added-that of sight. And just as the telephone has revolutionized human habits of communicating and made a major contribution to the quality of modern life, many of us at Bell Labs believe that PICTUREPHONE® service, the service that lets people see as well as hear each other, offers potential benefits to mankind of the same magnitude. It is a tribute to the flexibility and versatility of the existing telephone network that Picturephone service, now being readied for introduction as a regular Bell System offering, can be added as an integral part of telephone service. What is Picturephone service like? Most important, of course, the user sees the person with whom he is talking. People today are so accustomed to using the telephone and to its usefulness as an instrument of communication, that they sometimes overlook the importance of vision in communication. But think, do you telephone the person in the next office or go to see him? Most people sense a more complete and satisfying exchange when they can both see and talk to each other. Thus, the advantage of more complete communication with Picturephone service is readily apparent.

Picturephone service is useful in other ways too. Graphic material, such as drawings, photographs, and physical objects, can be viewed with the Picturephone set. The equipment can also be used to communicate with a computer. The customer ‘talks’ to the computer via TOUCH-TONE@ dialing buttons, and the computer’s responses are displayed on the picture tube.”

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Below is amazing footage of computer pioneer Douglas Carl Engelbert‘s 1968 demo of videoconferecning (and other tech stuff, including the mouse) , which was aimed at the business market: “You as an intellectual worker, supplied with a computer display, backed up with a computer that was alive for you all day, and was instantly responsive to every action you had. How much value could you derive from that?”

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Harvard evolutionary biologist Daniel Lieberman is decribed wryly as a “hoof-and-foot man” because he studies the extreme ends of the human body–head and feet. In a smart interview in the New York Times conducted by Claudia Dreifus, Lieberman discusses how the bodies we’ve inherited are mismatched for the modern world we’ve created:

“For example, impacted wisdom teeth and malocclusions are very recent problems. They arise because we now process our food so much that we chew with little force. These interactions affect how our faces grow, which causes previously unknown dental problems. Hunter-gatherers — who live in ways similar to our ancestors — don’t have impacted wisdom teeth or cavities. There are many other conditions rooted in the mismatch — fallen arches, osteoporosis, cancer, myopia, diabetes and back trouble. So understanding evolutionary biology will definitely help my students when they become orthopedists, orthodontists and craniofacial surgeons.”

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A face growing in Brazil:

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"They lack the ability to process all that information in real time and then intelligently act on the results." (Image by Bin im Garten.)

From Autonomous Robots in the Fog of War,” Lori G. Weiss’ new IEEE Spectrum report about the future of robotic warfare, which may be more in the distance than in the offing:

“So why haven’t we seen a fully autonomous robot that can sense for itself, decide for itself, and seamlessly interact with people and other machines? Unmanned systems still fall short in three key areas: sensing, testing, and interoperability. Although the most advanced robots these days may gather data from an expansive array of cameras, microphones, and other sensors, they lack the ability to process all that information in real time and then intelligently act on the results. Likewise, testing poses a problem, because there is no accepted way to subject an autonomous system to every conceivable situation it might encounter in the real world. And interoperability becomes an issue when robots of different types must interact; even more difficult is getting manned and unmanned systems to interact.

To appreciate the enormous challenge of robotic sensing, consider this factoid, reported last year in The Economist: ‘During 2009, American drone aircraft…sent back 24 years’ worth of video footage. New models…will provide ten times as many data streams…and those in 2011 will produce 30 times as many.’ It’s statistics such as those that once prompted colleagues of mine to print up lanyards that read ‘It’s the Sensor, Stupid.'”

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BigDog, from the good people at Boston Dynamics:

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"The algorithms used by Amazon to set and update prices started outbidding each other." (Image by J.J. Harrison.)

Algorithms increasingly run many aspect of our lives, but sometimes this computer-generated math we can barely comprehend runs amok. An excerpt from a cautionary tale about algorithms by Jane Wakefield at the BBC:

“At last month’s TEDGlobal conference, algorithm expert Kevin Slavin delivered one of the tech show’s most ‘sit up and take notice’ speeches where he warned that the ‘maths that computers use to decide stuff’ was infiltrating every aspect of our lives.

Among the examples he cited were a robo-cleaner that maps out the best way to do housework, and the online trading algorithms that are increasingly controlling Wall Street.

‘We are writing these things that we can no longer read,’ warned Mr Slavin.

‘We’ve rendered something illegible. And we’ve lost the sense of what’s actually happening in this world we’ve made.’

Algorithms may be cleverer than humans but they don’t necessarily have our sense of perspective – a failing that became evident when Amazon’s price-setting code went to war with itself earlier this year.

The Making of a Fly – a book about the molecular biology of a fly from egg to fully-fledged insect – may have been a riveting read but it almost certainly didn’t deserve a price tag of $23.6m (£14.3m).

It hit that figure briefly on the site after the algorithms used by Amazon to set and update prices started outbidding each other.

It is a small taste of the chaos that can be caused when code gets smart enough to operate without human intervention, thinks Mr Slavin.

‘This is algorithms in conflict without any adult supervision,’ he said.”

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Slavin’s TED Talk about algorithms infiltrating our lives:

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Jockey Robyn Smith’s remarkably quick journey from aspiring Hollywood starlet to respected professional athlete was the basis of a 1972 Sports Illustrated story by scribe Frank Deford. But her greatest fame was still in the distance, occurring by virtue of an unlikely 1980 marriage to legendary film dancer Fred Astaire. An excerpt from the SI profile of Smith, who was given to telling tall tales about herself:

As a kid she played boys’ games, and certainly jockeys don’t intimidate her because she is, after all, taller than everybody she rides against. “The men jockeys have treated me terrific,” she says, “but then, all my friends have always been men. I resented being called a tomboy, though, because I wouldn’t want to be a man. I like them too much. I just get along with them, period. Women resent this for some reason. My mother used to resent this. Like when she and my father would have people over, I’d hang around with the men.” Robyn always addresses married couples as “you guys.”

She exercises every morning, runs religiously, and indulges herself only in a little wine and brandy. She is a fine golfer, long off the tee, and picks up any sporting activity easily. Ransohoff, the film producer, took her deep-sea fishing. “We hit a school of albacore,” he says, “and I mean they were rolling. Robyn hung more albacore in that hour than any man on board.”

“I’m thin, but I’m strong,” Robyn explains clinically, getting set to flex again. “I always had good muscles. I’m a rare physical individual—and I’m not trying to be narcissistic about it. It’s just that I’m very unusual in that way.”

Yet Robyn has taken off so much weight that she appears to have no emotional reservoir to sustain her. Her system is littered with the residual effects of weight pills, water pills, hormone pills, big pills, little pills, pill pills that she gobbles indiscriminately. Even when she was a world-beater at the spring meeting, she was constantly at a temperamental flood tide. She breaks into tears regularly, not only over losing a race but, say, while watching some banal TV drama. The least aggravation unnerves her. People fall out of her favor upon the smallest alleged slight, only to return just as whimsically to her good graces. Her fetish for freedom borders now on mania; it is easier to schedule an appointment with the Dalai Lama than Robyn Smith. She has become less receptive to criticism, and woe to the most well-intentioned innocent who forgets and idly tells her the same thing twice.•

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Smith profiled in 1985.

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From “Swamp Dreams,” a great New York piece by Robert Sullivan about a shopping colossus rising (perhaps) in the Meadowlands, in what’s supposedly a post-mall America:

“If you disregard military bases and airports, and maybe the dam the Chinese government is beginning to regret it built on the Yangtze, the mall currently under construction at the Meadowlands will be one of the biggest feats of construction in history: the world’s largest commercial space, with at least six zeros attached to all the calculations. There is to be an astonishing 7.5 million square feet of retail space. Every year, the mall’s developers expect 55 million people—almost the population of Italy—to show up for, say, breakfast and some jeans and maybe a luxury item, as well as a show or a ­fighter-jet flight simulation or a grande decaf latte beneath a TV screen that will make Times Square seem like a rec room from the seventies. There will be the first indoor ski slope in North America: 800 feet long, sixteen stories high, with fresh snow made daily. There will be a skating rink the size of a small lake. And in the water-themed part of the structure, there will be a gigantic room modeled after Hawaii, with a tropical climate, a pool featuring six-foot waves, and possibly some kind of whale or unusual fish, explained to shoppers by sea-life educators.”

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“It was known as Xanadu…now the American Dream.”

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From John Naish’s New Statesman profile of World Wide Web creator, Tim Berners-Lee, who gave away his invaluable creation and wants it to remain open and unfettered:

“Berners-Lee formally introduced his hobby-built system to the world on 6 August 1991 by posting a message on an internet bulletin board for fellow hypertext program developers. That day, he put the world’s first proper website online. It explained what a website was and gave details of how to create one. Neither initiative caused any immediate interest.

It feels odd to picture him struggling to convince people of the web’s potential. ‘It was just a load of hard work,’ he says – ‘getting up in the morning and thinking, ‘What the hell will I do today? Should I ask people at Cern to instal browsers? Should I get more servers running, write more code for browsers, or should I talk at a conference? Or should I do my own website as an example for other people?'” (Thanks Broswer.)

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Eugene Mirman interviews Sir Tim Berners-Lee:

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From “Marrying Absurd,” Joan Didion’s 1967 essay about getting hitched in Las Vegas, a garish man-made oasis that shouldn’t logically exist, but does so stubbornly, spectacularly, almost mythically:

“What people who get married in Las Vegas actually do expect–what, in the largest sense, their ‘expectations’ are– strikes one as a curious and self-contradictory business. Las Vegas is the most extreme and allegorical of American settlements, bizarre and beautiful in its venality and in its devotion to immediate gratification, a place the tone of which is set by mobsters and call girls and ladies’ room attendants with amyl nitrite poppers in their uniform pockets. Almost everyone notes that there is no ‘time’ in Las Vegas, no night and no day and no past and no future (no Las Vegas casino, however, has taken the obliteration of the ordinary time sense quite so far as Harold’s Club in Reno, which for a while issued, at odd intervals in the day and night, mimeographed ‘bulletins’ carrying news from the world outside); neither is there any logical sense of where one is. One is standing on a highway in the middle of a vast hostile desert looking at an eighty-foot sign which blinks ‘STARDUST’ or ‘CAESAR’S PALACE.’ Yes, but what does that explain? This geographical implausibility reinforces the sense that what happens there has no connection with ‘real’ life; Nevada cities like Reno and Carson are ranch towns, Western towns, places behind which there is some historical imperative. But Las Vegas seems to exist only in the eye of beholder all of which makes it an extraordinary and interesting place, but an odd one in which to want to wear a candlelight satin Priscilla of Boston wedding dress with Chantilly lace insets, tapered sleeves and a detachable modified train.” (Thanks TETW.)

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Elvis marries Priscilla, Las Vegas, 1967:

More Joan Didion posts:

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From a piece about the highly developed social behaviors of animals by Alexandra Horowitz and Ammon Shea in the Sunday Review of the New York Times:

“You’re at a dinner party. Your hostess regales you with a long, meandering tale of her recent back surgery. It ends with attempted humor: she laughs and glances at you. You laugh in response, trying to convey an appreciation for her humor that you don’t actually feel. Congratulations: you are now at the level of social politeness of chimpanzees.

In this study, the laughs of 59 chimps (yes, they do laugh) were recorded and the sounds analyzed. The researchers discovered that when one chimp laughed others sometimes engaged in “laugh replications” that lacked the full acoustic structure of spontaneous laughter. In other words, they were fake-laughing.”

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They’re humoring us until they’re smart enough to make it their planet:

More simian posts:

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The opening of “The True Stories of Philip K. Dick,” a 1975 Paul Williams Rolling Stone article about the visionary sci-fi writer, who lived on speed and saw the future, died young and mostly a cult figure, and posthumously became the king of Hollywood:

“November 17, 1971. Philip K. Dick, a brilliant novelist well known in science fiction circles, unlocked the front door of his house in San Rafael, California, and turned on the living-room lights. His stereo was gone. The floor was covered with water and pieces of asbestos. The fireproof, 1100-pound asbestos-and-steel file cabinet that protected his precious manuscripts had been blown apart by powerful explosives.

‘Thank God,’ he thought to himself. ‘Thank God! I guess I’m not crazy after all.’

There’s something about ordinary reality that causes it to go all shimmery in the presence of Philip K. Dick. Phil Dick is a science fiction writer, has been for 24 years, and the common theme that runs through all his stories is, ‘Things are seldom what they seem’–a line Phil repeated several times during my three-day stay at his house last year. His lives in Fullerton, Orange County, California, obviously the natural place for a brilliant writer to go after being driven out of semi-suburban San Rafael by forces beyond his comprehension. The new house is less than ten miles from Disneyland.

Philip K. Dick is unknown in America outside the science fiction subculture, but in Europe and especially France, he is widely regarded as one of the greatest living American novelists. Most of his 36 books are constantly in print in Germany, France and Britain, and Jean-Pierre Gorin, a respected French film director, is trying to raise money for a major Hollywood movie of a Phil Dick novel titled Ubik.

Perhaps Phil’s vision of America is just too accurate to be fully appreciated here. But Dick fans believe it’s a matter of timing. Most of them think Dick is now on the edge of a popularity surge similar to what happened to Kurt Vonnegut in the late Sixties. If so, a whirlwind of doubt, horror and laughter is stalking America, ready to blow off the pages of some of the most peculiar and loving books ever written in this country.”

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Harold Bloom on the Tea Party, via the Browser:

What are the rewards of reading, and of literary scholarship?

Harold Bloom: One must read, try to possess by memory, and be possessed by the very best that has been imagined, cognitively apprehended and expressed powerfully. Thinking clearly and well is based upon memory. Unless you have read and absorbed the best that can be read and absorbed, you will not think clearly or well, and democracy will not survive.

We have this horrible contemporary phenomenon in the Tea Party – a real menace not only to America but to the world. Because if it goes on like this, they will destroy our economy and they will destroy America. They have no democratic vision, and I don’t mean with a capital ‘D’, I mean with a small ‘d’. They frighten me. They’re like the early followers of Adolf Hitler, and I’m willing to be quoted on that. They are a sickening phenomenon. That is because they have not read deeply and widely enough. But then maybe they’re not to blame, because American education – even in elite universities – has become a scandal in my opinion. It has committed suicide.”

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As the perceptive Rob Walker notes in the Atlantic, the speed of product alterations has caused planned obsolesence to actually be craved by consumers:

“We’re all familiar with the sinister idea of ‘planned obsolescence,’ a corporate strategy of supplying the market with products specifically built not to last. Consumer-culture critic Annie Leonard describes such items as “designed for the dump”; she recounts reading industrial-design journals from the 1950s in which designers ‘actually discuss how fast can they make stuff break’ and still leave consumers with ‘enough faith in the product to go out and buy another one.’ When that doesn’t work, she says, the market suckers us with aesthetic tweaks that have no impact on functionality: the taller tail fins and shorter skirts of ‘perceived obsolescence.’

But the emerging prevalence—anecdotally, at least—of the gadget death wish suggests an intriguing possibility: where electronic gizmos are concerned, product obsolescence is becoming a demand-side phenomenon.”

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iPad that was run over in the street:

More Rob Walker posts:

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Kat Fatland argues that the Internet changing our brains isn’t necessarily evil at Good. An excerpt:

“Think about how many tools you use in your daily life without even thinking about it. You drive a car to work (or ride a bike… the principle is the same). You use your GPS device, cell phone, iPod, and other tech devices so flawlessly that, according to Ramachandran’s principle, they may as well be extensions of your very self.

Sound scary? It’s not. We’ve been using tools for centuries—it’s what distinguishes us from most species of lesser intelligence. And we haven’t just used tools, we’ve relied on them. In Clark’s book, he cites the wristwatch as an example. Human lives are drastically different now than they were before we had the ability to know the time right down to the minute. Before clocks were widespread, and people had only the sun or the church bells to tell them it was noon, scheduling was virtually nonexistent. Or think about the pen and paper. These tools have changed the very fabric of how we exist with each other in the world—and few would argue these changes have made our lives worse.”

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A Buckminster Fuller Geodesic Dome from the 1960s.

From Jennifer Kahn’s recent and fun New Yorker profile of tech visionary Jaron Lanier, who is best known for coining the term “virtual reality” and authoring the cautionary tome, You Are Not a Gadget:

“In Mesilla, Lanier’s father allowed him to design their new home. Lanier, who was eleven, chose a geodesic dome, and with his father’s assistance he drew up blueprints calculating the angles of the frame, plus plans for a squat, cantilevered spire that he envisaged as the entrance. (‘Clearly a subconscious phallic expression of some kind,’ he told me.) But the project proceeded slowly. ‘We’d get enough money to pour the foundation for one part of the house, and then, after a few weeks, we’d get enough to do another part,’ he recalls.

During the first two years that the dome was under construction, Lanier and his father lived in an unheated canvas Army tent that was stiflingly hot in summer and frigid in winter. Lanier remembers shivering uncontrollably at times, ‘like I was having a seizure.’ The family belongings, which included his mother’s grand piano and her antique furniture, were wrapped in plastic and heaped together on the ground outside the tent. ‘We sealed the piano in a bag, kind of,’ Lanier said. ‘It must have sat out there for a year.’”

“In Mesilla, Lanier’s father allowed him to design their new home. Lanier, who was eleven, chose a geodesic dome, and with his father’s assistance he drew up blueprints calculating the angles of the frame, plus plans for a squat, cantilevered spire that he envisaged as the entrance. (‘Clearly a subconscious phallic expression of some kind,’ he told me.) But the project proceeded slowly. ‘We’d get enough money to pour the foundation for one part of the house, and then, after a few weeks, we’d get enough to do another part,’ he recalls.During the first two years that the dome was under construction, Lanier and his father lived in an unheated canvas Army tent that was stiflingly hot in summer and frigid in winter. Lanier remembers shivering uncontrollably at times, “like I was having a seizure.” The family belongings, which included his mother’s grand piano and her antique furniture, were wrapped in plastic and heaped together on the ground outside the tent. ‘We sealed the piano in a bag, kind of,’ Lanier said. ‘It must have sat out there for a year.’”

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Buckminster Fuller and Maharishi Mahesh Yogi conduct a press conference at Amherst in 1971:

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Pseudo.com founder and Web 1.0 wackjob Josh Harris, he of the sadistic yet prophetic “art projects,” is asked to anticipate the future in a really thorough article by Courtney Boyd Myers at The Next Web. An excerpt from his bleak and bold vision:

“What drove Harris crazy when he lived in a Truman Show like reality with his ‘fake girlfriend,’ other than losing his fortune, was when people online, his followers, started to get into his head and he was barely able to make a decision at any moment. Harris says that scenario was like a caveman version of what’s to come. With your day split into microparts, you will suffer from a psychic fracture. The issue won’t be about maintaining privacy. Your privacy will be long gone. The issue will be when your brain overloads, what in computer terms happens when the CPU goes into complete multi-tasking mode. And this is how we will enter the hive, also known  as the Matrix. And that’s Harris’ Singularity. It’s just a matter of time, he says.

‘This is how you have to look at it. I try not to make judgements, it’s just a natural evolutionary process. I don’t know how they knew it but The Mayans were right: 2012 is the end of the world. The world isn’t going to blow up. But 2012 is the year when the Singularity’s effects will start to take place. When our lives become a collection of micro day parts. Unlike Isaac Asimov, who said his biggest regret is that he wouldn’t be alive for The Singularity, we actually are going to be present at the shift. It’ll start next year. It’ll seem like magic, just like television was magic, radio was magic, the telegraph was magic, and maybe even smoke signals were in their day. This is going to be real magic and we’re going to be alive to witness it.'”

Another Josh Harris post:

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Newly minted octogenarian Mikhail Gorbachev holds forth in Spiegel on modern Russia, which looks to his experienced eyes a whole lot like the stubbornly backwards Soviet Union. An excerpt:

SPIEGEL: Let’s jump forward in time to present-day Russia. When Putin came into office in 2000, you supported him. Had you already known him for some time?

Gorbachev: He helped me when I ran in the 1996 presidential election.

SPIEGEL: You thought he was clever at the time. Now you say that under his leadership Russia came to resemble an African country, where dictators rule for 20 to 30 years. What do you suddenly find so objectionable about him?

Gorbachev: Careful: It is you that is using the word ‘dictator.’ I supported Putin during his presidency, and I still support him in many ways today.

SPIEGEL: You asked him not to run for president again.

Gorbachev: What troubles me is what the United Russia party, which is led by Putin, and the government are doing. They want to preserve the status quo. There are no steps forward. On the contrary, they are pulling us back into the past, while the country is urgently in need of modernization. Sometimes United Russia reminds me of the old Soviet Communist Party.

SPIEGEL: Putin and President Dmitry Medvedev want to decide between themselves who will be the next president in 2012.

Gorbachev: Putin wants to stay in power, but not so that he can finally solve our most pressing problems: education, health care, poverty. The people are not being asked, and the parties are puppets of the regime. Governors are no longer directly elected. Direct mandates in elections were eliminated. Everything works through party lists now. But new parties are not being allowed, because they get in the way.” (Thanks Longreads.)

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Gorbachev-Reagan Chiclets commercial by Spitting Image puppets, 1987:

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More about swarm robots, this time microchip-sized crafts designed by engineer Mason Peck at Cornell University, which can be used to inexpensively probe the outer reaches of space.  They’re called Sprites. An excerpt from the Cornell page about them:

“Inspired by the success of the first Sputnik launch in 1957, we focus on a simple, feasible, but genuinely new design. For three weeks, the 23 inch diameter sphere of Sputnik I broadcast its internal temperature and pressure as it orbited and hinted at the potential of artificial satellites. A half century later, we expect to duplicate Sputnik’s achievement using less than one ten-millionth of its mass. Our design packages the traditional spacecraft systems (power, propulsion, communications, etc) onto a single silicon microchip smaller than a dime and unconstrained by onboard fuel.'” (Thanks Singularity Hub.)

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Americans amazed by Sputnik, 1957:

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Kudos to the folks at Open Culture for finding an archived Sports Illustrated article by William Faulkner, who reported on attending his first hockey game in 1955. An excerpt from “An Innocent at Rinkside“:

The vacant ice looked tired, though it shouldn’t have. They told him it had been put down only a few minutes ago following a basketball game, and after the hockey match it would be taken up again to make room for something else. But it looked not expectant but resigned, like the mirror simulating ice in the Christmas store window, not before the miniature fir trees and reindeer and cosy lamplit cottage were arranged upon it, but after they had been dismantled and cleared away.

Then it was filled with motion, speed. To the innocent, who had never seen it before, it seemed discorded and inconsequent, bizarre and paradoxical like the frantic darting of the weightless bugs which run on the surface of stagnant pools. Then it would break, coalesce through a kind of kaleidoscopic whirl like a child’s toy, into a pattern, a design almost beautiful, as if an inspired choreographer had drilled a willing and patient and hard-working troupe of dancers—a pattern, design which was trying to tell him something, say something to him urgent and important and true in that second before, already bulging with the motion and the speed, it began to disintegrate and dissolve.

Then he learned to find the puck and follow it. Then the individual players would emerge. They would not emerge like the sweating barehanded behemoths from the troglodyte mass of football, but instead as fluid and fast and effortless as rapier thrusts or lightning—Richard with something of the passionate glittering fatal alien quality of snakes, Geoffrion like an agile ruthless precocious boy who maybe couldn’t do anything else but then he didn’t need to; and others—the veteran Laprade, still with the know-how and the grace. But he had time too now, or rather time had him, and what remained was no longer expendable that recklessly, heedlessly, successfully; not enough of it left now to buy fresh passion and fresh triumph with.•

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“Boom Boom” Geoffrion in his prime:

“Boom Boom” selling beer in 1985:

Another William Faulkner post:

 

Another classic Sports Illustrated article:

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The Speedy Weenie machine used Devol’s microwave technology to dispense dogs. This photo was taken in his home.

Robotic arms that can grip and lift have been essential in everything from assembly lines to vending machines. Their creator, George Devol, who patented the invention in 1961 just passed away. An excerpt about the inventor’s beginnings from a New York Times obituary by Jeremy Pearce:

George Charles Devol Jr. was born Feb. 20, 1912, in Louisville, Ky. An experimenter from an early age, he studied mechanics and electronics in high school, but did not attend college. He worked for electronics companies in the 1920s, and in the early 1930s founded a small company, United Cinephone, to develop recording technology for movies.

That initial venture was not fruitful, and Mr. Devol turned his inventor’s hand to making devices that open doors automatically and other devices using machine controls. He also found a way to make laundry presses open or close when a worker approached. In 1939 United Cinephone installed automated photoelectric counters at the New York World’s Fair to count entering customers.

In the 1940s, Mr. Devol helped in an early application of the microwave oven, with the introduction of a machine for cooking and vending hot dogs, known as the “Speedy Weeny.”•

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Devol’s associate, Joseph F. Engelberger, demonstrates the technology for Johnny Carson in 1966, at the 9:09 mark.

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The opening of “Lithium Dreams,” Lawrence Wright’s excellent 2010 New Yorker article about Bolivia’s chance for economic renaissance during the age of lightweight batteries:

“In southern Bolivia, there is a mountain called Cerro Rico—’the hill of wealth.’ It is a pale, bald rock, crisscrossed with dirt roads that climb the slope like shoelaces. More than four thousand mining tunnels have so thoroughly riddled its interior that the mountain is in danger of collapse. Its base is ringed with slums that spill into the old city of Potosí, a World Heritage site. Evo Morales, the President of Bolivia, recently told me that he and his countrymen see Potosí as ‘a symbol of plunder, of exploitation, of humiliation.’ The city represents a might-have-been Bolivia: a country that had capitalized on its astounding mineral wealth to become a major industrial power. Such a Bolivia could easily have been imagined in 1611, when Potosí was one of the biggest cities in the world, with a hundred and eighty thousand inhabitants—roughly the size of London at the time. Although Potosí began as a mining town, with the saloons and gaming houses that accompany men on the frontier, it soon had magnificent churches and theatres, and more than a dozen dance academies. From the middle of the sixteenth century until the middle of the seventeenth, half the silver produced in the New World came from Cerro Rico. Carlos Mesa, a historian who served as Bolivia’s President from 2003 to 2005, told me, ‘It was said throughout the Spanish empire, ‘This is worth a Potosí,’ when speaking of luck or riches.’ Potosí is now one of the poorest places in what has long been one of the poorest countries in South America.

Across the divide of the industrial revolution, there is another city whose promise of greatness now lies in ruins: Detroit. Even before the Curved Dash Oldsmobile rolled off the assembly line, in 1901, becoming the first mass-produced American car, Detroit was a showplace of labor, its huge factories producing iron, copper, freight cars, ships, pharmaceuticals, and beer. Following Oldsmobile’s lead, carmakers such as Ford, Packard, and Cadillac transformed the American economy. But Detroit’s triumph was remarkably short-lived. The city is half the size it was fifty years ago. Two of the Big Three carmakers, General Motors and Chrysler, went bankrupt in 2009, and all of them have cut their workforces drastically. Unemployment in Detroit is at fifteen per cent; the murder rate is the fourth highest in the country; and about a third of its citizens live in poverty. An estimated seventy thousand structures—houses, churches, factories, even skyscrapers—stand empty, many of them vandalized or burned. Parts of town are being farmed. Like Bolivia, Detroit is hoping for a second chance. And both of them are looking to a treasure that could revive their fortunes, and, incidentally, lead the world to a cleaner environment. That treasure is lithium.” (Thanks TETW.)

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Bolivian President Evo Morales on the Daily Show in 2007:

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I had a phone conversation a few years back with the film critic Neal Gabler. I can’t remember what it was about, but I thought he was a really bright and nice guy. I disagree with a lot of “The Elusive Big Idea,’‘ his op-ed piece in yeaterday’s Sunday Times, but I think it’s a must read. The thing is, I agree with his basic premise that much of American culture is mired in rigid orthodoxy and regressing, but I don’t necessarily believe that there’s a paucity of big ideas or that the Internet is damaging our ability to hatch them.

It’s true that it doesn’t make any sense that we seem to be getting smarter and dumber all at once, given the free flow of information available to us all thanks to the Internet. I understand that the disparity between haves and have-nots in regards to financial wealth; that has to do with an alliance of monied interests and venal politicians. But there’s no excuse for such a divide in terms of ideas and imagination, even though there does seem to be one. That said, I don’t think the fault lies in technology like Gabler does, but in ourselves. The Internet may have exacerbated cultural amnesia and exploded egos, but it’s also leveled the playing field like nothing else since the printing press and been a huge gain for knowledge-sharing. There has probably never been a time in our history with more ideas circulating, and I think the troubling incivility and close-mindedness we see may be a reaction to that by people threatened by too many ideas, not too few. An excerpt from his essay:

“It is no secret, especially here in America, that we live in a post-Enlightenment age in which rationality, science, evidence, logical argument and debate have lost the battle in many sectors, and perhaps even in society generally, to superstition, faith, opinion and orthodoxy. While we continue to make giant technological advances, we may be the first generation to have turned back the epochal clock — to have gone backward intellectually from advanced modes of thinking into old modes of belief. But post-Enlightenment and post-idea, while related, are not exactly the same.

Post-Enlightenment refers to a style of thinking that no longer deploys the techniques of rational thought. Post-idea refers to thinking that is no longer done, regardless of the style.

The post-idea world has been a long time coming, and many factors have contributed to it. There is the retreat in universities from the real world, and an encouragement of and reward for the narrowest specialization rather than for daring — for tending potted plants rather than planting forests.

There is the eclipse of the public intellectual in the general media by the pundit who substitutes outrageousness for thoughtfulness, and the concomitant decline of the essay in general-interest magazines. And there is the rise of an increasingly visual culture, especially among the young — a form in which ideas are more difficult to express.

But these factors, which began decades ago, were more likely harbingers of an approaching post-idea world than the chief causes of it. The real cause may be information itself. It may seem counterintuitive that at a time when we know more than we have ever known, we think about it less.

We live in the much vaunted Age of Information. Courtesy of the Internet, we seem to have immediate access to anything that anyone could ever want to know. We are certainly the most informed generation in history, at least quantitatively. There are trillions upon trillions of bytes out there in the ether — so much to gather and to think about.”

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