After a little bit of a break from posting at Times And Seasons over the past few weeks, I’m back in my usual Monday morning slot with a post about the futility of debating the Trinity between Mormons and mainline Christians. Check it out, if you are feeling theologically inclined. (There’s also a gratuitous Star Wars reference to help things along.)
So Your Government Is Spying On You, Now What?
So last week we found out that the government has been routinely collecting all of the metadata from cell phone calls virtually all Americans make for years. Then we learned that the NSA has the capability to tap directly into the databases of Internet giants like Google, Microsoft, and Apple to collect search history, emails, file transfer history, and even live chats of individual users. Big news, eh? (Guardian, NYT)
Not to bestselling author and major blogger John Scalzi, who wrote about the revelations:
Apparently I was the only person in the US who assumed the government was already doing something very much like this? Because it was doing it under Bush, and if Obama had gotten around to stopping doing it, his administration would have made a big deal about it, no? And since the Obama Administration never said a single word about it that I can recall, it was probably still going on? So I guess what I would say is, yeah, seems not surprising in the least…
Scalzi’s attitude is refreshing next to all the faux shock and muted outrage from the Left–who would have screamed bloody murder if this were going on under Bush–and the sudden remembrance of civil liberties from the Right–who notably didn’t make a fuss under Bush. In that spirit, I want to try and talk about the program itself: what it really entails in terms of privacy and civil liberties and what it really offers in terms of safety. FWIW, I’m a skeptic of the more extreme claims of the privacy movement (who often strike me as 21st century Luddites) and also of a lot of security measures in the wake of 9/11 (which are often best described as “security theater“).
Let’s start with the successes of the government program, such as they are, which is codenamed Stellar Wind.
Meet The NSA Whistleblower
Really big and surprising news: the source behind the recently revealed NSA spying programs has chosen to reveal his identity.
Everything about this story is compelling: his rationale for the leak, the story of how he executed it, his own background, and even his comparison of himself to Bradley Manning. I won’t attempt to summarize. You should just read the whole thing.
First Ever Footage of Live Oarfish in Deep Water
Oarfish are mysterious because, until now, they’ve only ever been observed near the surface of the water dead or dying, and not in their native, deep ocean habitat. There’s nothing really impressive about the dead specimens except their size (up to 30 feet long) and shape (weirdly flat).
But now there’s video of a live oarfish taking by a remotely operated vehicle. Alive and where they belong, these creatures a beautiful and amazing looking. Watch for yourself:
You can get more details from the story at GrindTV.com.
Anthony Weiner in Shouting Match with Democrat Voters
I was pretty disgusted to see Mark Sanford’s return to politics from his well-earned disgrace, so I’m impressed that New York Democrats seem a lot less forgiving of Anthony Weiner’s ploy to resurrect his own career, at least according to this article from Politicker. Speaking at a New Kings Democrats candidates forum, Weiner got some incredibly harsh words in the open question period. My favorites came from Jess Strauss, who opened by pointing out that “three candidates in a row–mayoral candidate John Liu, Brooklyn borough president hopeful Eric Adams and Mr. Weiner–had all come to the Democratic club and apologized for something.” Weiner tried to turn the tables on Straus, asking who he supported, but:
Mr. Strauss interjected, arguing that the club’s goal was to bring new people into the political system. “It is very difficult for us to do that when he have politicians out there who are behaving this way,” he said.
Ya think?
The folks who attacked Weiner all support other candidates, but I’m not sure if that really means anything in this case. I mean, if their opinions about Mr. Weiner are perfectly honest, they would support someone else, wouldn’t they? As for Weiner, he seems as arrogant as ever:
“I’m going to win this election, OK, and I’m gonna govern this city really well,” he declared. “If you don’t think I should even be standing here today, I certainly would respect that. I mean, you’re supporting another candidate who’s not gonna win.”
It was really frustrating to watch Sanford win. I’d really love for Weiner to lose. I mean, the American people have got to draw the line somewhere, right?
The Problem With Democracy Is All The People
TheGalen (a regular commenter here at DR) posted an article from Washington Post’s Wonkblog to my Facebook feed: The people have taken over American politics, and they hate it. He says it’s related to my earlier post (The Problem of Too Much Democracy), and he’s right.
The Wonkblog piece points out that easy access to information about voting has empowered motivated ideologues to outmaneuver the apathetic (and moderate) masses:
Politics is a niche hobby, not unlike mountain biking or playing the oboe. Only a small number actually follow the proliferation of political news; few send e-mails to members of Congress or volunteer for campaigns. So the opening of U.S. politics, [Stanford University political scientist Morris] Fiorina wrote, “had a perverse consequence: political power and influence were transferred to political activists who were not like most people.”
Fiorina writes that the perverse result of this takeover is that:
Against all natural expectations, Americans liked their government better, trusted their leaders more, and voted in higher numbers in the bad old days when party bosses chose nominees in smoke-filled rooms; when several dozen old white men (mostly Southerners) ran Congress, when big business, big labor and big agriculture dominated the interest group universe; and when politicians didn’t have the tools to figure out what their constituents wanted.
There is one question to raise, however. Were things actually better back then? Or were people just happier because they knew less?
Daily Rituals of Creative Genius
I think there’s a real danger in trying to imitate everything successful people do. Sometimes folks who have genius for art have no ability to understand or articulate that genius, and sometimes people who look like geniuses are just lucky. However, I do take a lot of heart in the ability of incredibly successful artists to achieve great things in steady, bite-size increments. Here’s what I find the most heartening, however:
The busier people were less precious–you learn to fit [your creative work] in, and you don’t have these elaborate eccentric rituals if you have children or a day job. Someone like Joseph Heller wrote Catch 22 in the evenings after work. He’d write for two or three hours a night after his job as an advertising executive doing campaigns for magazines. He was not a tortured artist. He found as much joy in his day job as writing Catch 22 at night. “I couldn’t imagine what Americans did at night when they weren’t writing novels,” Heller said. Currey also notes in Daily Rituals that even when Heller quit his day job to write full-time, he still only worked on his novels for two to three hours a day.
Maybe there’s hope for my artistic dreams after all?
Check out the full article for more info on the book Daily Rituals.
Music, the Paradox of Choice, and Love
I have to start this post with a frank admission of guilt: I really like the Twilight soundtrack. Something about the music, the constant rain, the muted color palette, and the absence of concern for any of the characters made watching the film a relaxing, mesmerizing experience. I may even have watched it more than once. (I’m honestly not sure.)
One of the best things about the soundtrack is that in addition to really strong tracks from bands I already love (like Muse, Iron & Wine, and Paramore), it also introduced me to some great tracks from bands that I had never heard of: “Full Moon” by The Black Ghosts, “Spotlight” by Mutemath, and “Eyes on Fire” by Blue Foundation.
There are few things I love in life more than the feeling that comes over me when I hear something for the first time and think “Wow, I could really fall in love with this song.” My relationship with music is a lot like my relationship with people. It’s always fun to meet new people and exciting to learn the things you have in common, but it takes time for a true, strong friendship to build. At any given moment my roster of favorite tunes is filled with songs from both ends of the spectrum: those that I love because I just discovered them and those that I love because they’ve been with me for years and I’ve sung along enough to memorize all the lyrics.
There aren’t that many bands, albums, and songs at the older end of the spectrum, however, because a lot can go wrong along the way. A lot of the times the lyrics–which I often don’t catch the first time around–end up letting me down. Other times, the song ends up being an unusual standout from an otherwise mediocre band. Of all the songs that I’m thrilled to hear the first time, only a small number make the “must have” list and get locally stored on my iPhone.
Other than the intrinsic excitement of hearing a good new song, there are two more things to anticipate. The first is sharing new finds with my friends. The second is the prospect of more where that came from. One good song is like a nugget of gold in a prospector’s pan: I immediately want to know if there’s more gold in them hills.
So, over the years, I’ve got my music-prospecting strategy fairly well-refined. I use a combination of Pandora, NPR, TV commercials (if they’re good enough for Moby they’re good enough for me), soundtracks and sometimes even the radio to generate new leads. Then I get on Spotify and start listening. I’ve discovered lots of my current favorite music this way, from DJ Shadow to Lecrae to Ludovico Einaudi. And yet, despite a steady stream of new music, I still find myself often thinking “I have no idea what to listen to right now.”
I keep trying out new schemes to organize the music that I’ve discovered, and I keep failing. I’ve tried making playlists many, many times but I invariably start strong with a handful of tracks and before I’ve got a single album’s worth the initial focus of the playlist (a particular emotion? an associated activity? a genre?) has grown so muddy that I find they’re all starting to run together and I can’t tell if a song should go in or not. I’ve also tried the opposite approach: throwing a bunch of music into a playlist, and then tossing back out the songs that I don’t like as I listen. But, since I’m usually listening while I work, I end up being bothered enough by bad songs to notice, but not enough to remember to toss them out. So far, nothing works.
I’m starting to think that despite the huge access to great new music, in some ways the days of CD collections were actually better. I don’t think I ever had more than 2 or 3 dozen CDs in high school in the late 1990s, but that meant that choosing what to listen to was easy: I could flip through my entire collection (mentally or physically) in just a few seconds. I had the tracklisting of every album memorized, and I could skip any tracks I didn’t like without even thinking about it. My music collection felt like my hometown. I didn’t exactly choose it in the sense that most of my first CDs were hand-me-downs and even the one’s I bought were based on extremely limited knowledge, but they were mine. I knew them inside and out. Now? I feel like I don’t have a musical home anymore. Even in my own collection I’m a foreign tourist visiting a stranger’s soundscape.
Part of this is what economists call the Paradox of Choice. The original theory (that more customer choices lead to fewer sales) has started to fall out of favor, but the basic realization that deliberation is costly is certainly true. I don’t think it’s just that I used to have fewer music, but I think it’s that–because I had less to listen to–what I listened to I learned very well. It became a part of me, so choosing was second-nature. Now, with so much to choose from, my exposure to any given song or album or band is fleeting and glancing. It’s not just that I have more to go through when I’m deciding what to listen to, it’s that I have to think a lot harder about every single option because I don’t really know them that well. The result is that even tracks that are unbelievable good when I think to listen to them fall through the cracks. My wife put on Regina Spektor’s “All the Rowboats” in the car the other day, and I was stunned that I had forgotten such an awesome song was in my collection. It feels like getting lost in my own home.
I started writing this piece as a way of asking for help and advice about how to better track my music. And I’m still curious to hear what folks have to say, but maybe I’ve already identified the real problem. I’ve been trying to find an easy way to build my musical mansion. Maybe that’s impossible. Maybe another quaint economics axiom applies: there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. Maybe if relationships with music are like relationships with people, then trying to a satisfying and easy relationship is like asking for a full-length abridgment. Maybe easy outside options are the enemy of all relationships that require investment to grow.
There’s got to be a better take away then just “things were better back in the day”, and I think there is. Trying to pretend that it’s still 1997 and I’m still living at home might help me recapture some of the lost sense of connection with my tunes, but even if it did, dialing back 1/2 my life doesn’t sound like a good candidate for Plan A. After all, the whole problem is that it’s the weight of incredible musical potential that’s dragging me down. Can’t let go of the weight without letting go of the promise. So, I guess I’ll just start dedicating more time and effort to listening to all this great music, giving it some of the respect it deserves, and wait with stubborn patience to build back the bridges of nostalgia, but bigger, brighter, and more solid than mere memories.
Beware the Healthy Eating Internet Education!
Hilarious article on the perils of trying to eat healthy in a world saturated with (mis)information. Favorite line?
Some people say it’s a little fringe, but you are committed to live a healthy lifestyle. “Okay,” you say, “let’s do this shit,” as you fry your caribou steak and seal liver in rendered whale blubber. You lose some weight which is good, but it costs $147.99 a pound for frozen seal liver out of the back of an unmarked van at the Canadian border.
There’s plenty more, though. Read the whole thing!
To All Heartbroken Game of Thrones Fans: Neener, neener.
[Here there be spoilers!]
Allow me to regale you with a tale of my relationship to George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones. Once upon a time, long, long before most of you who watch Game of Thrones had ever heard of it, I read the first book. I was immediately impressed by Martin’s craft. The man can write, and I would never question that. But what he chose to write really rubbed me the wrong way. Specifically: I felt like the books were engineered to manufacture a sense of realism by deliberately doing horrible things to likable characters. When Ned Stark got executed at the end of the book I set it down, and I’ve never been tempted to pick up another one.
So, when all the Red Wedding stuff started breaking out over Twitter, it took me a few days enough to bother to investigate. When I eventually read a description of what had happened, I felt incredibly vindicated. And it’s not just that Martin killed off more likable characters, but it’s why he does it.
The Mirror has a couple of quotes from Martin that confirmed all my suspicions about his authorial decisions. See if you can spot the problem: