When Is Enough Enough?

Thursday, December 9th, 2004

When Is Enough Enough? argues that AIDS gets too much attention compared to other diseases:

Although AIDS cases and deaths are declining and the disease remains completely preventable, it nonetheless gets almost $180,000 in research funds per death from the National Institutes of Health. Compare that to its closest rivals: Parkinson’s disease, prostate cancer, and diabetes. All of these receive about $14,000 per death. Alzheimer’s gets about $11,000.

I’d prefer a metric more like dollars per lost year. A disease or accident that takes you at 25 is more destructive than one that takes you at 70 rather than 80.

Concussions Kept Tintin Forever Young

Thursday, December 9th, 2004

Concussions kept Tintin forever young:

Comic book hero Tintin never aged during his 50-year career because the repeated blows he took to the head triggered a growth hormone deficiency, according to an analysis in the Christmas edition of a Canadian medical journal.

Claude Cyr, a professor of medicine at Quebec’s Sherbrooke University, said a study of the 23 hugely popular Tintin books showed the intrepid Belgian reporter suffered 50 significant losses of consciousness during his many adventures.

‘We hypothesize that Tintin has growth hormone deficiency and hypogonadotropic hypogonadism (a disorder of the pituitary gland) from repeated trauma. This could explain his delayed statural growth, delayed onset of puberty and lack of libido,’ Cyr wrote.

His article was in the Canadian Medical Association Journal, which has a tradition of publishing studies into the ailments of fictional characters in its Christmas edition.
[...]
Another study surmised that Beatrix Potter’s ever energetic Squirrel Nutkin character was in fact autistic.

As the article points out, “Tintin was created by Belgium’s Georges Remi under the pen name Herge.” Hergé, by the way, is a homonym, in French, for RG, Georges Remi’s initials, reversed. A certain Roman de Tirtoff went by a similar pseudonym, Erté, or RT.

China’s Textbooks Twist and Omit History

Wednesday, December 8th, 2004

It comes as no surprise that China’s Textbooks Twist and Omit History:

Most Chinese students finish high school convinced that their country has fought wars only in self-defense, never aggressively or in conquest, despite the People’s Liberation Army’s invasion of Tibet in 1950 and the ill-fated war with Vietnam in 1979, to take two examples.

Similarly, many believe that Japan was defeated largely as a result of Chinese resistance, not by the United States.

‘The fundamental reason for the victory is that the Chinese Communist Party became the core power that united the nation,’ says one widely used textbook, referring to World War II.

No one learns that perhaps 30 million people died from famine because of catastrophic decisions made in the 1950′s, during the Great Leap Forward, by the founder of Communist China, Mao Zedong.

Similar elisions occur in everything from the start of the Korean War, with an invasion of South Korea by China’s ally, North Korea, to the history of Taiwan, which Beijing claims as an irrevocable part of China.

The Triumph and Collapse of Liberalism

Wednesday, December 8th, 2004

For quit some time, “liberal” was a good word, particularly in the United States. Then things changed. From The Triumph and Collapse of Liberalism:

In the year 1951 no less a demagogue than Sen. Joseph McCarthy still used ‘liberal’ positively, at least on one occasion. In a speech he accused Gen. George C. Marshall and Secretary of State Dean Acheson of being part of ‘a conspiracy so immense as to dwarf any previous such venture in the history of man. A conspiracy of infamy so bleak that, when it is finally exposed, its principles shall be forever deserving of the maledictions of all liberal men.’ In that very year Sen. Robert A. Taft, idol of recent American conservatives, thought it necessary to state that he was not a conservative but ‘an old-fashioned liberal.’

[...]

“Conservative” was a word (and a political idea) that Americans eschewed for a long time. During the 19th century much of the political history of Europe and, in particular, of Britain was marked by the debate between conservatives and liberals. In the United States that was not so.

[...]

During the 19th century, liberalism, by and large, meant political and economic individualism, an emphasis on liberty even more than equality, a reduction and limitation of the powers of government. From the beginning of the 20th century, liberals, by and large, accepted and advocated the spread of equality, meaning more and more legislation and government bureaucracy to guarantee the welfare of entire populations. That kind of administrative intervention, with its occasional legislative and bureaucratic excesses, turned millions of Americans against “government” (though they were often the same Americans who were enthusiastic about the political and military powers of government).

Another source of the dislike of liberalism was anti-Communism. Just as the political advocacy of liberalism had moved closer to socialism, the ideology and foreign policy of liberals and Democrats often seemed (and were) more tolerant of Communism and the Soviet Union than were nonliberals and most Republicans. Liberals were, or seemed, less patriotic (more precisely, less nationalistic) than most Americans. And it is, of course, the viscous cement of nationalism that binds so many of the preferences and beliefs of masses of people together.

AUE: FAQ excerpt: "The exception proves the rule."

Wednesday, December 8th, 2004

Most of us have heard that “the exception proves the rule” doesn’t mean what it might first appear to mean — that an exception to a rule somehow demonstrates the rule’s greater truth — and that “proves” simply means “tests”:

The common misconception (which you will find in several books, including the Dictionary of Misinformation) is that ‘proves’ in this phrase means ‘tests’. That is not the case, although ‘proof’ does mean ‘test’ in such locutions as ‘proving ground’, ‘proofreader’, ‘proof spirit’, and ‘The proof of the pudding is in the eating.’

The phrase actually has a fairly straightforward legal meaning. An example demonstrating the original legal sense:

‘Special leave is given for men to be out of barracks tonight till 11.0 p.m.’; ‘The exception proves the rule’ means that this special leave implies a rule requiring men, except when an exception is made, to be in earlier. The value of this in interpreting statutes is plain.

Or, as Lord Atkin said:

A rule is not proved by exceptions unless the exceptions themselves lead one to infer a rule.

Exceptio probat regulam in casibus non exceptis. The exception proves the rule in cases not excepted.

Wondering why we’ve been largely terror-free since 9/11

Tuesday, December 7th, 2004

Wondering why we’ve been largely terror-free since 9/11 looks at the opportunity costs to fighting terror:

The opportunity costs of this fight, in resources, energy, and know-how — and in our civil rights — are enormous. As Mueller points out, economist Roger Congleton has figured that delaying all airline passengers for only half an hour each adds up to total economic costs of $15 billion a year. Imagine what else smart fellows like the authors of that Rand study, or all the people involved in the new and burgeoning industry, both private and public, of fighting domestic terror assaults, might be able to do if they weren’t expending their energy on what might be a smaller threat than we seem to think?

The 2004 Good Gift Games Guide

Tuesday, December 7th, 2004

The 2004 Good Gift Games Guide presents a number of boardgames — for adults:

Once upon a time, when you were shorter and less concerned about carbs, winter meant board games. With several weeks off from school and increasingly inhospitable weather outside, whiling away the hours over Battleship or Payday seemed like a pretty good use of time. [...] You’ve grown up since then, and maybe you now dismiss board games as “kids’ stuff.” But I’ll tell you a secret: Board games have grown up, too. In the last 15 years a new breed of game has hit the market, those designed specifically for adults. And more people are turning to board games as one of the best (and cheapest) forms of at-home entertainment.

The recommended games meet three criteria:

  1. Easy to learn, with rules that can be explained in less than five minutes
  2. Entertaining, so committed to the fun factor that even the guy who comes in dead last has a great time playing
  3. Quick, lacking downtime and requiring no more than an hour to complete.

The games:

  • Ticket to Ride
  • Boomtown
  • Carcassonne: The City
  • Alhambra
  • Memoir ’44
  • Cranium Hoopla
  • Hansa
  • BuyWord
  • San Juan
  • Loco!

Can Terrorists Turn Out Gotham’s Lights?

Tuesday, December 7th, 2004

Can Terrorists Turn Out Gotham’s Lights? opens with the surprising consequences of last year’s blackout:

Who stayed lit after Gotham’s lights went out during the blackout of August 2003? Batteries and standby generators kicked in to keep trading alive on the New York Stock Exchange and the Nasdaq. But the AmEx failed to open; true, it had backup generators for the trading-floor computers, but it depended on Consolidated Edison to cool them, so that they wouldn’t melt into puddles of silicon. Banks kept their ATM-control computers running at their central offices, but most of the ATMs themselves went dead. With their robust backup generators, Verizon’s wireline switching centers smoothly handled traffic volumes three times above normal, but cell phone service deteriorated fast, since soaring call volumes quickly drained the cell tower backup batteries. Traffic lights went out, but backup generators kept the city’s Traffic Management Center alive enough to re-synchronize about half of them quickly when the power came back on. The dedicated fiber line that links City Hall to the city’s broadcast media went dark when a Time Warner hub lost power. The radio communications system for police, fire, and other emergency services progressively lost capacity as the backup batteries for many radio repeaters ran down. Power from a satellite truck, though, allowed Katie Couric and Lester Holt to broadcast the Today show from Rockefeller Plaza.

The Times Square “W” hotel was open for business and humming: management had upgraded the backup system after an earlier outage reminded everyone that electricity ran not just the electronic room keys but also the water pumps that flushed the toilets. But the New Yorker Hotel in midtown went dark. To much acclaim, it had previously installed a “synchronous” cogeneration plant — which unfortunately has to shut down when grid power fails so that it doesn’t electrocute linemen working on the wires outside. As it happened, the hotel was hosting a seminar for elevator mechanics that day; they helped extract guests trapped in the hotel’s elevators, including a group trapped in the middle of a 20-story blind shaft, which required breaking a hole through a wall on the 15th floor.

Some stats:

It takes almost 11 gigawatts of electricity to keep New York City lit in the late afternoon on a hot summer day — a huge amount of power. [...] Few of us have even the vaguest idea just how much a gigawatt of power might be. So let’s talk Pontiacs instead: 110,000 of them, parked door to door in Central Park. At exactly the same moment, 110,000 drivers start the 110,000 engines, shift into neutral, push pedal to metal, and send 110,000 engines screaming up to the tachometer’s red line. Collectively, these engines are now generating a total of about 11 gigawatts of shaft power.

Without electricity, of course, the computers don’t run — and a modern economy runs on computers:

Much of the city’s wealth exists and grows within a steady flow of the half-gigawatt (or so) of power required to keep silicon hot, screens lit, phones humming, discs spinning, lasers shining, and air conditioners running to dump the waste heat that all this digital hardware produces. The well-tempered electron is the new medium of exchange. Without power, the wealth of the modern city evaporates. The 8/14 blackout cost the city an estimated $1 billion.

Some history:

Electric New York started in 1882, at Thomas Edison’s Pearl Street Station power plant. Edison had designed and built six “Jumbo Engine-Driver Dynamos,” each one a 27-ton, steam-driven 100-kilowatt behemoth, four times bigger than any other electric generator previously built. The entire useful output of all these tons of steel, and the mountains of coal that they would burn, ran down thin metal wire — 15 miles of it, snaking through New York City’s bustling financial district to the 85 customers who had installed Edison’s new electric lamps.

A French scientist, Sadi Carnot, realized that “the bigger the gap in temperature between the furnace and the condenser, the more useful work you can extract,” and “bigger systems are easier to keep hot because they have less surface per unit of volume” — which has led to bigger and bigger power plants, and greater and greater efficiency. But these large, centralized plants need to move electricity to the consumer:

A 1-gigawatt plant — of which there are now plenty — can power the homes, workplaces, and factories of 400,000 people, but the power has to get to them, moving either above the tarmac or underneath it.

And that grid can fail:

Weather has caused four massive outages in recent memory: hurricanes in 1992 and 1996, and ice storms in 1998 and 2002. Spasms of human stupidity have worked their mischief, too. In 1991, construction workers installing drawbridge support pillars in the Chicago River put one in the wrong place; seven months later, a car-size crack opened up in the roof of a freight tunnel directly beneath it, and the ensuing flood shut down utility power for weeks in the heart of Chicago.

When a serious disturbance hits the grid, problems can cascade and amplify like trucks and cars piling up on a highway. Because they are so long and carry so much current, the wires store huge amounts of power in the electric and magnetic fields that surround them. They have enormous electrical inertia, and when things change abruptly at one end, the wires themselves act like massive malignant generators that knock voltage and current out of phase and send huge amounts of “reactive power” sloshing up and down the system, like waves in a bathtub — except that they propagate at close to the speed of light.

What about smaller, decentralized alternatives (and backups)?

With 2,000 square feet set aside for on-site power, a diesel generator together with ancillary power conversion electronics and a buried fuel tank can provide a megawatt of power for a week. On the same footprint, a solar array with its essential backup batteries can provide only a hundreth as much power, and at roughly a hundred times the capital cost. [...] Some 3 to 5 percent of the public grid’s capacity is backed up by arrays of batteries (and ancillary electronics), parked under desktops or in office closets or basements, that cushion delicate equipment from electrical blips and supply power during blackouts ranging from minutes to hours. Also backing up the grid stand some 80 gigawatts of on-site diesel generators — about 10 percent of the total generating capacity that lights the grid.

Wired 12.12: Roads Gone Wild

Tuesday, December 7th, 2004

Roads Gone Wild examines a new philosophy of traffic engineering: Build roads that seem dangerous, and they’ll be safer.:

Riding in his green Saab, we glide into Drachten, a 17th-century village that has grown into a bustling town of more than 40,000. We pass by the performing arts center, and suddenly, there it is: the Intersection. It’s the confluence of two busy two-lane roads that handle 20,000 cars a day, plus thousands of bicyclists and pedestrians. Several years ago, Monderman ripped out all the traditional instruments used by traffic engineers to influence driver behavior — traffic lights, road markings, and some pedestrian crossings — and in their place created a roundabout, or traffic circle. The circle is remarkable for what it doesn’t contain: signs or signals telling drivers how fast to go, who has the right-of-way, or how to behave. There are no lane markers or curbs separating street and sidewalk, so it’s unclear exactly where the car zone ends and the pedestrian zone begins. To an approaching driver, the intersection is utterly ambiguous — and that’s the point.

[...]

Somehow it all works. The drivers slow to gauge the intentions of crossing bicyclists and walkers. Negotiations over right-of-way are made through fleeting eye contact. Remarkably, traffic moves smoothly around the circle with hardly a brake screeching, horn honking, or obscene gesture. “I love it!” Monderman says at last. “Pedestrians and cyclists used to avoid this place, but now, as you see, the cars look out for the cyclists, the cyclists look out for the pedestrians, and everyone looks out for each other. You can’t expect traffic signs and street markings to encourage that sort of behavior. You have to build it into the design of the road.”

Removing lane lines and center lines gets people to drive more safely:

A study of center-line removal in Wiltshire, conducted by the Transport Research Laboratory, a UK transportation consultancy, found that drivers with no center line to guide them drove more safely and had a 35 percent decrease in the number of accidents.

American road design has long aimed to segregate pedestrians from cars:

The planned suburban community of Radburn, New Jersey, founded in 1929 as “a town for the motor age,” took the segregation principle to its logical extreme. Radburn’s key design element was the strict separation of vehicles and people; cars were afforded their own generously proportioned network, while pedestrians were tucked safely away in residential “super blocks,” which often terminated in quiet cul de sacs. Parents could let kids walk to the local school without fearing that they might be mowed down in the street. Radburn quickly became a template for other communities in the US and Britain, and many of its underlying assumptions were written directly into traffic codes.

You can actually reduce travel times after narrowing roads, removing lane lines, etc. — if you open up residential neighborhoods a bit:

Instead of widening congested highways, New Jersey’s DOT is urging neighboring or contiguous towns to connect their secondary streets and add smaller centers of development, creating a series of linked minivillages with narrow roads, rather than wide, car-choked highways strewn with malls.

Contrarian finding: Computers are a drag on learning | csmonitor.com

Tuesday, December 7th, 2004

From Contrarian finding: Computers are a drag on learning:

From a sample of 175,000 15-year-old students in 31 countries, researchers at the University of Munich announced in November that performance in math and reading had suffered significantly among students who have more than one computer at home. And while students seemed to benefit from limited use of computers at school, those who used them several times per week at school saw their academic performance decline significantly as well.

[...]

When [parents' education and working status] were removed from the equation, having more than one computer at home was no longer associated with top academic performance. In fact, the study says, “The mere availability of computers at home seems to distract students from learning.” Computers seem to serve mainly as devices for playing games.

Still, there were a few exceptions: Academic performance rose among those who routinely engaged in writing e-mail or running educational software.

We’re supposed to be terribly surprised that owning a computer doesn’t improve math and reading skills; only using it to write e-mails or run educational software helps.

Dubbing In Product Plugs

Monday, December 6th, 2004

I’m surprised it has taken this long to catch on. From Dubbing In Product Plugs:

After decades of dubbing dialogue into the movies they send around the world, Hollywood studios have taken the next step: dubbing product placements.

Digital technology has made it easy and inexpensive to substitute one product plug for another in the domestic and overseas versions of the same movie. And it gives studios a new stream of revenue when they can sell product-placement rights not only in the U.S. but also overseas.

The practice actually goes back a decade:

The practice actually dates back to a pioneering effort in the 1993 futuristic police drama “Demolition Man.” Pepsico Inc. bought a major role for its Taco Bell brand in the U.S. release, which depicted the fast-food chain as a candlelight establishment and “the only restaurant to survive the franchise wars.” But in the overseas version of “Demolition Man,” the featured restaurant was Pizza Hut, another Pepsico brand.

Spiderman 2 featured Dr. Pepper in the US, and a fruit-flavored soft drink called Miranda overseas. Looney Tunes: Back in Action featured Sprint cellphones in the US; overseas, the phones had the orange square logo of Orange, France Telecom’s mobile unit. Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle features a Cingular Wireless camera phone; it’s T-Mobile overseas.

All this isn’t cheap and easy…yet:

It can cost from $10,000 to $90,000 to dub a logo into a short scene. The process has become simpler and cheaper over the years as more special-effects agencies offer dubbing services. As more movies are shot with digital cameras, instead of being filmed on conventional 35 mm film and then converted to a digital computer file, the cost is expected to go down still more, says Chris Taday, vice president of European promotions for Sony’s Columbia TriStar Films. “There are big brands in Europe for which we want to use films as promotional tools, and we want to leverage that,” Mr. Taday says.
[...]
For now, product dubbing is largely confined to still shots: Dubbed products are usually little more than props in the background, because dubbing a moving object, frame by frame, is complicated. “It’s easy as long as a package of soap powder sits on a kitchen counter, but it’s more complicated when a housewife picks it up, or someone passes in front of her and you see only a piece of it,” says Norm Marshall, chief executive of NMA Entertainment & Marketing, Los Angeles. Eventually, movies could digitally alter the appearance of the same product for local markets, he adds. “Unilever may market the same soap product around the world, but the packaging and color may be different.”

Superheroes Minus Masks

Monday, December 6th, 2004

Superheroes Minus Masks asserts that the secret identities superheroes protect are powerful metaphors. In the process, it gives a quick rundown of the popular device:

The Scarlet Pimpernel, a fop who secretly rescued innocent nobles from the guillotine in revolutionary France, popularized the hero with a hidden identity. He was created in 1903 by Baroness Emmuska Orczy. As a Hungarian aristocrat paying her way by writing romances for bourgeois English audiences, she knew a few things about masks and hidden agendas.

The Pimpernel spawned Zorro, the Shadow and the Lone Ranger. Then, in the 1930s, a Jewish mama’s boy from Cleveland named Jerry Siegel created a new kind of hero. Siegel’s father was killed by a robber when Jerry was in his teens, and soon Siegel conceived of a bulletproof crime fighter named Superman. He gave his hero a secret identity, but with a potent twist. The Pimpernel and his imitators were well-established adults who invented masked alter egos who could battle evil without jeopardizing their social positions. Superman came from another world, already superhuman, and learned to pass as an earthling. Superman was the reality, Clark Kent the invention.

The Comfort Zone

Monday, December 6th, 2004

In The Comfort Zone, Jonathan Franzen tells his own story of “growing up with Charlie Brown”:

Like most of the nation’s ten-year-olds, I had an intense, private relationship with Snoopy, the cartoon beagle. He was a solitary not-animal animal who lived among larger creatures of a different species, which was more or less my feeling in my own house. My brothers, who are nine and twelve years older than I, were less like siblings than like an extra, fun pair of quasi-parents. Although I had friends and was a Cub Scout in good standing, I spent a lot of time alone with talking animals. I was an obsessive rereader of A. A. Milne and the Narnia and Doctor Dolittle novels, and my involvement with my collection of stuffed animals was on the verge of becoming age-inappropriate.

This was in 1970:

In that unsettled season, as the so-called generation gap was rending the cultural landscape, Charles Schulz’s work was almost uniquely beloved. Fifty-five million Americans had seen “A Charlie Brown Christmas” the previous December, for a Nielsen share of better than fifty per cent. The musical “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown” was in its second sold-out year on Broadway. The astronauts of Apollo X, in their dress rehearsal for the first lunar landing, had christened their orbiter and landing vehicle Charlie Brown and Snoopy. Newspapers carrying “Peanuts” reached more than a hundred and fifty million readers, “Peanuts” collections were all over the best-seller lists, and if my own friends were any indication there was hardly a kid’s bedroom in America without a “Peanuts” wastebasket or “Peanuts” bedsheets or a “Peanuts” gift book. Schulz, by a luxurious margin, was the most famous living artist on the planet.

Schulz’s strip featured iconic characters reduced to big faces with simple, but expressive features:

Charles Schulz was the best comic-strip artist who ever lived. When “Peanuts” débuted, in October, 1950 (the same month Tom was born), the funny pages were full of musty holdovers from the thirties and forties. Even with the strip’s strongest precursors, George Herriman’s “Krazy Kat” and Elzie Segar’s “Popeye,” you were aware of the severe constraints under which newspaper comics operated. The faces of Herriman’s characters were too small to display more than rudimentary emotion, and so the burden of humor and sympathy came to rest on Herriman’s language; his work read more like comic fable than like funny drawing. Popeye’s face was proportionately larger than Krazy Kat’s, but he was such a florid caricature that much of Segar’s expressive budget was spent on nondiscretionary items, like Popeye’s distended jaw and oversized nose; these were good jokes, but the same jokes every time. The very first “Peanuts” strip, by contrast, was all white space and big funny faces. It invited you right in. The minor character Shermy was speaking in neat letters and clear diction: “Here comes ol’ Charlie Brown! Good ol’ Charlie Brown . . . Yes, sir! Good ol’ Charlie Brown . . . How I hate him!”

Creation Museum

Monday, December 6th, 2004

In Kentucky, they’re opening a new Creation Museum, complete with SFX theater:

Biblical history comes alive, as God?s Word — beginning in Genesis — explains the universe we see today.

Yes, if you look carefully, those are two dinosaurs walking onto Noah’s ark.

Archetypal Stories

Monday, December 6th, 2004

Some say that there are only seven — or maybe eight — Archetypal Stories:

  1. Cinderella – Unrecognised virtue at last recognised. It’s the same story as the Tortoise and the Hare. Cinderella doesn’t have to be a girl, nor does it even have to be a love story. What is essential is that the good is despised, but is recognised in the end, something that we all want to believe.
  2. Achilles – The Fatal Flaw, that is the groundwork for practically all classical tragedy, although it can be made comedy too, as in the old standard Aldwych farce. Lennox Robinson’s The Whiteheaded Boy is the Fatal Flaw In reverse.
  3. Faust- The Debt that Must be Paid, the fate that catches up with all of us sooner or later. This is found in all its purity as the chase in O’Neill’s The Emperor Jones. And in a completely different mood, what else is the Cherry Orchard?
  4. Tristan – that standard triangular plot of two women and one man, or two men and one woman. The Constant Nymph, or almost any French farce.
  5. Circe – The Spider and the Fly. Othello. The Barretts of Wimpole Street, if you want to change the sex. And if you don’t believe me about Othello (the real plot of which is not the triangle and only incidentally jealousy) try casting it with a good Desdemona but a poor Iago.
  6. Romeo and Juliet – Boy meets Girl, Boy loses Girl, Boy either finds or does not find Girl: it doesn’t matter which.
  7. Orpheus – The Gift taken Away. This may take two forms: either the tragedy of the loss itself, as in Juno and the Paycock, or it may be about the search that follows the loss, as in Jason and the Golden Fleece.
  8. The Hero Who Cannot Be Kept Down. The best example of this is that splendid play Harvey, made into a film with James Stewart.