Ben Folds Five Down in Fraggle Rock

Monday, September 17th, 2012

I am powerless to resist a Fraggle tie-in:

Nerdist Chris Hardwick explains how the Ben Folds Five “Do it Anyway” video came about:

In a meeting with Lisa [Henson, CEO, The Jim Henson Company], she casually said, “Next year is the 30th anniversary of Fraggle Rock. Would you want to do anything with the Fraggles?”

“WHAT THE [expletive]?? That’s an OPTION?!” I loudly replied. I think I scared her a little. I knew Ben had a new album releasing in September so I threw his name out.

Lisa said “that would be amazing” without hesitation. It was beautifully serendipitous. It seemed like a no-brainer to me, but I still cautiously pitched it to Ben, not really knowing his relationship with the show. I think I just spit words out, “YOU. VIDEO. FRAGGLES. ME PAY FOR!”

Numenera

Sunday, September 16th, 2012

Monte Cook made his name as one of the designers of the third edition of Dungeons & Dragons. Now he’s working on his own game, Numenera:

It’s a far future, science fantasy, post-apocalyptic game with streamlined rules that prioritize the story, the action, and the wild ideas. If you’re a fan of outside-of-the-box gameplay such as that found in Planescape, Dark Space, or Chaositech, the far-future stories of Gene Wolfe, Michael Moorcock, or Jack Vance, or mind-blowing visuals like those found in the work of French artist Moebius, you’re going to love Numenera.

Numenera is set a billion years in the future. Civilizations have risen and fallen on Earth. Even though the current inhabitants live at about a Medieval level of technology, the leftover remnants of these advanced societies lie all around them. Some of these are extremely helpful: advanced tools, valuable means of communication and learning, transportation, defenses, and weapons. Others are dangerous: genetically altered monstrosities, flesh-warping radiation, creatures transplanted from distant stars, and clouds of out-of-control nanobots, just to name a few. This setting, called the Ninth World, provides all manner of opportunities and challenges to those that call it home.

The real news is that he’s funding his project through kickstarter — and he’s received almost half a million dollars in pledges.

What happened to the culture war?

Saturday, September 15th, 2012

What happened to the culture war? The uncomfortable reality, Jonathan Chait notes, is that the culture war is an ongoing liberal rout:

Hollywood is as liberal as ever, and conservatives have simply despaired of changing it.

You don’t have to be an especially devoted consumer of film or television (I’m not) to detect a pervasive, if not total, liberalism. Americans for Responsible Television and Christian Leaders for Responsible Television would be flipping out over the modern family in Modern Family, not to mention the girls of Girls and the gays of Glee, except that those groups went defunct long ago. The liberal analysis of the economic crisis — that unregulated finance took wild gambles — has been widely reflected, even blatantly so, in movies like Margin Call, Too Big to Fail, and the Wall Street sequel. The conservative view that all blame lies with regulations forcing banks to lend to poor people has not, except perhaps in the amateur-hour production of Atlas Shrugged. The muscular Rambo patriotism that briefly surged in the eighties, and seemed poised to return after 9/11, has disappeared. In its place we have series like Homeland, which probes the moral complexities of a terrorist’s worldview, and action stars like Jason Bourne, whose enemies are not just foreign baddies but also paranoid Dick Cheney figures. The conservative denial of climate change, and the low opinion of environmentalism that accompanies it, stands in contrast to cautionary end-times tales like Ice Age 2: The Meltdown and the tree-hugging mysticism of Avatar. The decade has also seen a revival of political films and shows, from the Aaron Sorkin oeuvre through Veep and The Campaign, both of which cast oilmen as the heavies. Even The Muppets features an evil oil driller stereotypically named “Tex Richman.”

In short, the world of popular culture increasingly reflects a shared reality in which the Republican Party is either absent or anathema. That shared reality is the cultural assumptions, in particular, of the younger voters whose support has become the bedrock of the Democratic Party.

A member of President Obama’s reelection team recently told New York’s John Heilemann that it plans on painting its opponent as a man out of time — Mitt Romney is “the fifties, he is retro, he is backward.” This may sound at first blush like a particular reference to Romney’s uptight persona, but the line of attack would have been available against any Republican nominee — Rick Santorum, Michele Bachmann, Rick Perry, or any other of the dour reactionaries who might have snatched the nomination. The message is transmitted in a thousand ways, both obvious and obscure: Tina Fey’s devastating portrayal of Sarah Palin. Obama appearing on Late Night With Jimmy Fallon to “slow jam the news,” which meant to recite his campaign message of the week. The severed head of George W. Bush appearing on Game of Thrones. An episode of Mad Men that included the odd throwaway line “Romney’s a clown,” putatively to describe George Romney, who was anything but.

When Joe Biden endorsed gay marriage in May, he cited Will & Grace as the single-most important driving force in transforming public opinion on the subject. In so doing he actually confirmed the long-standing fear of conservatives — that a coterie of Hollywood elites had undertaken an invidious and utterly successfully propaganda campaign, and had transmuted the cultural majority into a minority. Set aside the substance of the matter and consider the process of it — that is, think of it from the conservative point of view, if you don’t happen to be one. Imagine that large chunks of your entertainment mocked your values and even transformed once-uncontroversial beliefs of yours into a kind of bigotry that might be greeted with revulsion.

You’d probably be angry, too.

The Foreign Language of Mad Men

Wednesday, September 5th, 2012

The past, even the recent past, is a foreign country, and, as Mad Men reminds us, they speak a foreign language there:

It’s in business language, though, that Mad Men really shows its weaknesses. Modern boardroom language creeps in with striking regularity. Take the verb “leverage,” for example. Last season, Pete Campbell angrily reported that Philip Morris used Sterling-Cooper “to leverage a sweeter deal” from another agency. Leverage presumably sounded like a hard-nosed business term in the table read; but it comes from banking, and hard as it may be to remember, investment bankers did not always rule the roost of American business. Widespread use of “to leverage” metaphorically is a creation of Reagan’s America, not Kennedy’s. Don Draper and his peers in grey flannel suits looked out on a dull, relatively unimportant banking sector; for them, leverage meant debt as much as it meant power. Not only is the individual phrase wrong; so is the whole field of metaphor. Talking like an investment banker would have had approximately the allure of talking like an accountant.

Business vernacular seems to trip up the writers again and again. Draper’s new contract in season three includes a “signing bonus,” a phrase that was extremely rare outside of sports (the staid “bonus for signing” was far more common); Paul Kinsey is urged to “keep a low profile” at a meeting in 1963, a phrase that spread like wildfire only in 1969; and in season four Honda sets a series of rules to “even the playing field” in a competition, a phrase that (along with the more common “level the playing field”) seems to have entered the boardroom around 1977.

It’s not only business, though. There are scores of idioms that are strikingly modern. “Feel good about,” “match made in heaven,” “tough act to follow,” “make eye contact,” “fantasize about”; all are at least tenfold more common today than in Mad Men‘s times. Any of these individually might be perfectly plausible; but for “feel good about,” for example, to be said four separate times over the course of the show by several different characters is extraordinarily unlikely. Such flaws aren’t just anecdotal; shows and movies from the 1960s, written by writers with as sure a grasp of the spoken language as Weiner, have far fewer outliers from the print corpus than their modern imitators. The Twilight Zone, for example, doesn’t use “feel good about” once in over 100 episodes.

[...]

What seems to be the most ubiquitous mistake in Mad Men is so frequent as to be invisible: the phrase “I need to.” Modern scripts set in 1960s, including Mad Men, use it constantly: it’s about as frequent as everyday words like “good,” “between,” or “most.” But to say “I need to” so much is a surprisingly modern practice: books, television shows, and movies from the 1960s use it at least ten times less often, and many never use it all. Sixties dialogue written back then used “ought to” far more often than modern imitators do. I checked several movies and TV seasons from 1960 to 1965, and all use “ought to” more often than “need to”; every modern show I could find set in the ’60s does the reverse. Google Ngrams shows the trend clearly as well.

How much of Guillermo Del Toro’s design DNA is in The Hobbit?

Tuesday, August 28th, 2012

Guillermo Del Toro struck me as a terrible fit for The Hobbit, and I was much relieved to find out that Peter Jackson was taking over. Jackson delicately makes much the same point in this interview:

[Guillermo] had designed a lot of the movie. I looked at his designs when he took over and a lot of his designs are very Guillermo. It was very much stuff that you would recognize from Pan’s Labyrinth or Hellboy. It was his artistic vision and I couldn’t make that movie. I looked at his designs and I said the only person who can make a Guillermo Del Toro movie is Guillermo. It shouldn’t be me. I can’t put my head into somebody else’s idea. I have to generate it from the beginning. So really I redesigned the film pretty much. Some of Guillermo’s DNA is in there. There were some things he did that I thought were pretty cool and I’ve taken bits of pieces of his stuff, kind of altering it and changing it as I saw it. But the film was largely redesigned.

The Dragon Phylogeny Project

Friday, August 24th, 2012

Rob Colautti needed a diversion from his Ecology and Evolutionary Biology dissertation at the University of Toronto, so he created the Dragon Phylogeny Project:

I collected images of 76 paintings, sketches, prints, and sculptures of dragons dating from the dark ages to the earliest 20th century, using images available on the internet. The most notable of these include prints of Asian dragons by Totoya Hokkei and Yashima Gakutei, Muslim depictions in Firdawsi’s Shahnama, a sketch by Leonardo Da Vinci, and a diversity of dragon species evident in various works featuring St. George’s dragon, the most famous of which are probably those by the Renaissance master Raphael.

What is a phylogeny? A phylogeny is a graphical representation of the hypothetical evolutionary relationships among different taxanomic groups, such as species, genera, families, etc. Most phylogenies today are based on DNA sequences, but dragon tissue is tough to acquire, and I think it’s also illegal under CITES or something. I could be wrong on that. Anyway, instead of DNA, I used the ‘old school’ approach that was used before the days of the polymerase chain reaction. It uses morphological instead of genetic variation.

How to build an ‘old school’ phylogeny: I identified 27 distinct traits that differentiated the 76 dragon art pieces (hereafter ‘species’) used in the study. These traits were then encoded into numbers so that they could be analyzed using a ‘neighbour-joining cluster analysis’. Just as the nucleotides of DNA (A,T,G and C) can be encoded as a single number (0-3), traits like skin texture, wing structure, and number of appendages can be numerically encoded. The neighbour-joining cluster analysis is a mathematical way of measuring the differences between the numbers representing the traits of interest, so that species with the fewest differences are joined together by the shortest branch distances.

How to read a phylogeny: The output is sort of like a family tree, except that the tip of every branch represents a species and the lines joining the tips show how similar the species are to each other. The assumption is that species with more similar traits share a more recent common ancestor. The spatial arrangement of the tips doesn’t really matter – that’s why phylogenies can look like spirals, circles, or triangles. Instead, the length of the lines joining two species represents how distantly related they are. For example, in the phylogeny of mammals, the lines connecting humans and chimps are very short compared to the lines connecting humans and mice, because we share a common ancestor with chimps much more recently than we do with mice.

Key insights from the Dragon Phylogeny: The most obvious result is the evolutionary distance between the group that I’ve called Orientalia vs. the Eurasian dragons. Orientalia is an entire taxonomic class containing the Asian dragons or (a.k.a. lóng). If we follow the lines connecting all of the Orientalia species we see that they are more closely related to Mammalia than they are to the dragons found in Eurasia. This shows a deep evolutionary divergence with geography as the Asian lóng of the Eastern Hemisphere are biologically no more related to Eurasian dragons of the west than are unicorns and other mammals. It was therefore probably a mistake to translate ‘lóng’ as ‘dragon’, or at least there is no biological justification for this translation. If only those early western scholars had understood evolutionary phylogenetics as well as you do now.

To get to the common ancestor of Eurasian and Oriental dragons, we have to go way back to the time of the fish-like ancestors. If we follow the phylogeny down from Orientalia towards the center of the spiral we see three main branches. The first are the ancestral Actinopterygii, which include modern fish and are a distinct group from all of the land vertebrates. The second branch moving clockwise includes both mammals and lóng, indicating that they share the same tetrapod fish-like ancestor – something like the modern-day Coelacanth. In contrast, the Eurasian dragons must have shared an as yet unidentified hexapod fish-like ancestor, which gave rise to dragons with six appendages instead of four (i.e. four legs + two wings) – the Dracopteronidae and the Dracoverisidae. This assumes that complex appendages like wings or legs did not evolve out of nothing, which is probably a fair assumption. Continuing clockwise along the spiral we can see that the Wyvernidae gradually lost two legs and then two more legs in the Serpentidae ancestors, before losing wings in the more recently derived Serpentidae species at the top of the spiral.

Conclusion: I know it’s a bit complicated but if you understand how to interpret these relationships you are already a step ahead of most first-year biology college students. Boom! you just learned all about phylogenetics.

Uncleftish Beholding

Wednesday, August 22nd, 2012

When Poul Anderson‘s grandparents came to the US, they Anglicized their last name from its original Danish spelling of Andersen. Then his parents gave him his distinctively Danish-spelled first name, Poul. After his father’s death, his mother moved the family to Denmark — until World War II.

Poul wrote relatively “hard” science-fiction — he started while pursuing his physics degree — and Norse-themed fantasy, which he wrote with Anglo-Saxon wording.

He combined his two favorite styles in Uncleftish Beholding, an explanation of atomic theory bereft of borrowed Latin words:

For most of its being, mankind did not know what things are made of, but could only guess. With the growth of worldken, we began to learn, and today we have a beholding of stuff and work that watching bears out, both in the workstead and in daily life.

The underlying kinds of stuff are the firststuffs, which link together in sundry ways to give rise to the rest. Formerly we knew of ninety-two firststuffs, from waterstuff, the lightest and barest, to ymirstuff, the heaviest. Now we have made more, such as aegirstuff and helstuff.

The firststuffs have their being as motes called unclefts. These are mightly small; one seedweight of waterstuff holds a tale of them like unto two followed by twenty-two naughts. Most unclefts link together to make what are called bulkbits. Thus, the waterstuff bulkbit bestands of two waterstuff unclefts, the sourstuff bulkbit of two sourstuff unclefts, and so on. (Some kinds, such as sunstuff, keep alone; others, such as iron, cling together in ices when in the fast standing; and there are yet more yokeways.) When unlike clefts link in a bulkbit, they make bindings. Thus, water is a binding of two waterstuff unclefts with one sourstuff uncleft, while a bulkbit of one of the forestuffs making up flesh may have a thousand thousand or more unclefts of these two firststuffs together with coalstuff and chokestuff.

At first is was thought that the uncleft was a hard thing that could be split no further; hence the name. Now we know it is made up of lesser motes. There is a heavy kernel with a forward bernstonish lading, and around it one or more light motes with backward ladings. The least uncleft is that of ordinary waterstuff. Its kernel is a lone forwardladen mote called a firstbit. Outside it is a backwardladen mote called a bernstonebit. The firstbit has a heaviness about 1840-fold that of the bernstonebit. Early worldken folk thought bernstonebits swing around the kernel like the earth around the sun, but now we understand they are more like waves or clouds.

In all other unclefts are found other motes as well, about as heavy as the firstbit but with no lading, known as neitherbits. We know a kind of waterstuff with one neitherbit in the kernel along with the firstbit; another kind has two neitherbits. Both kinds are seldom.

The next greatest firststuff is sunstuff, which has two firstbits and two bernstonebits. The everyday sort also has two neitherbits in the kernel. If there are more or less, the uncleft will soon break asunder. More about this later.

The third firststuff is stonestuff, with three firstbits, three bernstonebits, and its own share of neitherbits. And so it goes, on through such everyday stuffs as coalstuff (six firstbits) or iron (26) to ones more lately found. Ymirstuff (92) was the last until men began to make some higher still.

It is the bernstonebits that link, and so their tale fastsets how a firststuff behaves and what kinds of bulkbits it can help make. The worldken of this behaving, in all its manifold ways, is called minglingken. Minglingers have found that as the uncleftish tale of the firststuffs (that is, the tale of firststuffs in their kernels) waxes, after a while they begin to show ownships not unlike those of others that went before them. So, for a showdeal, stonestuff (3), glasswortstuff (11), potashstuff (19), redstuff (37), and bluegraystuff (55) can each link with only one uncleft of waterstuff, while coalstuff (6), flintstuff (14), germanstuff (22), tin (50), and lead (82) can each link with four. This is readily seen when all are set forth in what is called the roundaround board of the firststuffs.

When an uncleft or a bulkbit wins one or more bernstonebits above its own, it takes on a backward lading. When it loses one or more, it takes on a forward lading. Such a mote is called a farer, for that the drag between unlike ladings flits it. When bernstonebits flit by themselves, it may be as a bolt of lightning, a spark off some faststanding chunk, or the everyday flow of bernstoneness through wires.

Coming back to the uncleft itself, the heavier it is, the more neitherbits as well as firstbits in its kernel. Indeed, soon the tale of neitherbits is the greater. Unclefts with the same tale of firstbits but unlike tales of neitherbits are called samesteads. Thus, everyday sourstuff has eight neitherbits with its eight firstbits, but there are also kinds with five, six, seven, nine, ten, and eleven neitherbits. A samestead is known by the tale of both kernel motes, so that we have sourstuff-13, sourstuff-14, and so on, with sourstuff-16 being by far the most found. Having the same number of bernstonebits, the samesteads of a firststuff behave almost alike minglingly. They do show some unlikenesses, outstandingly among the heavier ones, and these can be worked to sunder samesteads from each other.

Most samesteads of every firststuff are unabiding. Their kernels break up, each at its own speed. This speed is written as the half-life, which is how long it takes half of any deal of the samestead thus to shift itself. The doing is known as lightrotting. It may happen fast or slowly, and in any of sundry ways, offhanging on the makeup of the kernel. A kernel may spit out two firstbits with two neitherbits, that is, a sunstuff kernel, thus leaping two steads back in the roundaround board and four weights back in heaviness. It may give off a bernstonebit from a neitherbit, which thereby becomes a firstbit and thrusts the uncleft one stead up in the board while keeping the same weight. It may give off a forwardbit, which is a mote with the same weight as a bernstonebit but a forward lading, and thereby spring one stead down in the board while keeping the same weight. Often, too, a mote is given off with neither lading nor heaviness, called the weeneitherbit. In much lightrotting, a mote of light with most short wavelength comes out as well.

For although light oftenest behaves as a wave, it can be looked on as a mote, the lightbit. We have already said by the way that a mote of stuff can behave not only as a chunk, but as a wave. Down among the unclefts, things do not happen in steady flowings, but in leaps between bestandings that are forbidden. The knowledge-hunt of this is called lump beholding.

Nor are stuff and work unakin. Rather, they are groundwise the same, and one can be shifted into the other. The kinship between them is that work is like unto weight manifolded by the fourside of the haste of light.

By shooting motes into kernels, worldken folk have shifted samesteads of one firststuff into samesteads of another. Thus did they make ymirstuff into aegirstuff and helstuff, and they have afterward gone beyond these. The heavier firststuffs are all highly lightrottish and therefore are not found in the greenworld.

Some of the higher samesteads are splitly. That is, when a neitherbit strikes the kernel of one, as for a showdeal ymirstuff-235, it bursts into lesser kernels and free neitherbits; the latter can then split more ymirstuff-235. When this happens, weight shifts into work. It is not much of the whole, but nevertheless it is awesome.

With enough strength, lightweight unclefts can be made to togethermelt. In the sun, through a row of strikings and lightrottings, four unclefts of waterstuff in this wise become one of sunstuff. Again some weight is lost as work, and again this is greatly big when set beside the work gotten from a minglingish doing such as fire.

Today we wield both kind of uncleftish doings in weapons, and kernelish splitting gives us heat and bernstoneness. We hope to do likewise with togethermelting, which would yield an unhemmed wellspring of work for mankindish goodgain.

Soothly we live in mighty years!

Then a Miracle Occurs

Friday, August 10th, 2012

In case you were wondering who penned this classic math cartoon, it’s by Sidney Harris:

(I looked this up in response to a tweet by Jon Jeckell and then realized that Winchell Chung had already noted the correct cartoonist.)

The Jedi Way of War

Friday, August 10th, 2012

Jon Jeckell discusses the Jedi Way of War:

Chancellor Palpatine’s conspiracy to seize control of the Republic is central to the plot of the Star Wars series. Clearly a key part of his plan involved confusing, misleading and preoccupying the only other institution in civil society capable of recognizing and countering the usurpation and centralization of power — the Jedi Order.

(The Jedi Order seems to be an institution outside the government, yet with a role in keeping it accountable, limiting power, and fostering the rule of law, similar to the role the Catholic Church had in post-Roman Europe. Francis Fukuyama discusses this in detail in Part III of The Origins of Political Order.)

Palpatine deflected Jedi skepticism of the war by manipulating them to agree to lead it, with the premise they would avoid the need for war through their traditional role as diplomats and peacekeepers. By taking part in the government by leading the war, they devolved to just another interest group within the government, gradually ending their immunity to political infighting and culminating in charges of treason.

The Jedi were not only distracted from their role in upholding the rule of law during Palpatine’s political plot by taking a leading role in the war, but cognitive biases inherent being part of it prevented them from taking a wholly objective, critical view of it. Veneration and respect for the Jedi institution, their powers and skills, their selflessness and wisdom placed their reputation among society beyond reproach. No one questioned or criticized Jedi performance in the war, even when the war raged directly above the capital at Coruscant.

The Police Tapes

Friday, August 3rd, 2012

Alan and Susan Raymond shot The Police Tapes in 1976 with one of the first video cameras:

Alan: We used these early video recorders that started coming to America from Japan. The earliest was the PortaPak. I believe Nam June Paik brought over the original deck from Japan that we used for the film. It was held together with gaffer tape. When we started testing it, we realized it didn’t even work in the daytime. We got this really weird image where the green foliage of the trees turned white. So, we had to figure out something we could do at night. Something like a film noir, nighttime show.

Susan: Alan decided that we would make a police film because it was a genre staple of television, and the only representation of police on television was Barney Miller, which was a really stupid sitcom.

After hitting the Blue Wall of Silence, they got their break:

Alan: No one wanted to be in the film. So, we just stood around for two weeks. Even my high school friend didn’t want to go on camera.

Susan: There was an officer who was trying out a one-man car. It was something nobody in the precinct would do because it was way too dangerous. We knew there would be room for us, so the sergeant asked if he’d take us out and he did. We went out for a whole evening with this officer and nothing happened until the very last minute. He saw a guy stealing a car. He arrested the guy and threw him in the back of the car with us. The guy started getting violent and we got kicked in the head.

Alan: The officer had to knock him out with his flashlight. That was our baptism of fire.

Susan: When the officers found out, we had to fill out a report and naturally we said that the heroic officer saved our lives.

The movie influenced Hill Street Blues, which copied the morning roll call scene’s style, using handheld cameras.

The Rock is Kicking Ass and Saving Franchises

Tuesday, July 31st, 2012

Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s 15 movies have grossed more than $2.3 billion at the global box office, and he’s brought all this money in by saving franchises:

Last year he climbed onboard the tired Fast and Furious series and turned Fast Five into the franchise’s highest-grossing film ($626 million). Then he took over Journey to the Center of the Earth from Brendan Fraser, and Journey 2 brought in $81 million more than its predecessor. Next up: the second installment of G.I. Joe.

Producers have taken note: We estimate The Rock earned $36 million in the last 12 months, and his first spot on The Forbes Celebrity 100 seems to be a floor, not a ceiling.

Jonah Lehrer Admits Making Up Bob Dylan Quotes in Imagine

Monday, July 30th, 2012

Jonah Lehrer admits making up Bob Dylan quotes in Imagine: How Creativity Works:

“Three weeks ago, I received an email from journalist Michael Moynihan asking about Bob Dylan quotes in my book ‘Imagine,’ ” said Mr. Lehrer in his statement. “The quotes in question either did not exist, were unintentional misquotations, or represented improper combinations of previously existing quotes. But I told Mr. Moynihan that they were from archival interview footage provided to me by Dylan’s representatives. This was a lie spoken in a moment of panic. When Mr. Moynihan followed up, I continued to lie, and say things I should not have said.”

Never Mind The Anabolics!

Sunday, July 29th, 2012

The irreverent marketers at Brew Dog bring you Never Mind The Anabolics!

It is about time the greatest sporting event on the planet was not sponsored by fast food companies, sugary fizzy drinks producers or monolithic multi-national brewers. A burger, can of fizzy pop and an industrial lager are not the most ideal preparation for the steeple chase or the dressage (for human or horse).

So we decided to give the athletes something that was going to make them happier and better. A way to relax before a big event and at the same time increase the chances of winning.

This is Never Mind the Anabolics. A 6.5% India Pale Ale infused with creatine, guarana, ginseng, gingo, maca powder, matcha tea and kola nut.

Why waste time training hard? This little beauty does the hard work for you. Guaranteed to boost your sporting ability in an almost completely legal way. Most of the performance enhancing additives we infused into this ale are banned for professional athletes. But winning by any possible means is the name of the game here.

Dark Knight Strategy

Saturday, July 28th, 2012

I haven’t seen the latest Batman movie, but Steve Postrel’s point about the Dark Knight’s strategy against Bane — tactics, really — is exactly the kind of thing that would spring to my mind:

One minor problem: Batman is supposed to be a master strategist and tactician. He’s chosen to go underground to pursue and confront his enemy, Bane, about whom he has considerable intelligence, including Bane’s background, training, experience, and physical prowess (including his main point of weakness, a mask over his mouth that keeps Bane from suffering intense pain).

He can see Bane standing in front of him, a very large individual of obvious strength and questionable agility. Batman is wearing a utility belt filled with grenades, throwing blades, sleep darts, cable launchers, and bolas. He is standing in a large cavern and is capable of operating vertically by shooting lines up to the ceiling and using built-in powered winches. In short, he is in a perfect position to remain outside Bane’s striking distance while hitting him with a variety of entangling, injuring, and even killing weapons.

Out of this cornucopia of options, what does Batman choose? Of course, a head-on bull rush, followed by a slugfest and wrestling contest. That’s the combat equivalent of Neiman-Marcus starting a price war with Wal-Mart. Macho is one thing, unbelievably stupid is another.

This Gaudy Fraud of Propaganda and Tastelessness

Saturday, July 28th, 2012

Alexander Boot shares Peter Mullen’s thoughts on the opening ceremony:

“… The latest emetic was that Olympic ‘ceremony’ in all its tawdry glamour, its misrepresentation of British history – agrarian England was not ‘a rural idyll’ and the industrial revolution brought tremendous benefits. (In any case, when Blake referred to ‘those dark satanic mills’ he was talking about the universities, the Deists and the Enlightenment intellectuals, not the Lancashire cotton towns). The whole socialist theme park of the ‘ceremony’: the sacred cow of the (failed) NHS; the glorious ‘liberation’ of the amoral 1960s followed by a tribute to punk rock.

“Naturally, this gets ecstatic reviews worldwide. It was universally described as ‘witty’. But it was the antidote to wit: that is cliché. It had the one thing modernity regards as a virtue in its technological slickness. Gimmicks. But no quotient of gimmicks can conceal a massive vulgarity – to which one must also add sentimentality and a general infantilisation. All under a relentless barrage of that ubiquitous modern Leitmotif – rock music. And drumming, drumming, drumming… I find it particularly objectionable to hear this trashy paganism described as ‘iconic.’

“It is intolerable to discover that this gaudy fraud of propaganda and tastelessness is thought by all my contemporaries to have been admirable. It is excruciating to find oneself the only one out of step. One feels as if one is the churl who has turned up to spoil the party, forever criticising, not a good word to say about anything – not even that schmaltzy desire for ‘togetherness’.”