Tradition is not the same as understanding

December 31, 2009 under Uncategorized

Nifty article from the BBC on a Portugese winemaker trying to balance the old school tradition of port-drinking with the need to rebrand it and market it to youth.

But what caught my eye was this:

“We have to adapt our markets. We absolutely have to get more young people drinking port.”

He paused to sweep his hand around the view of the vineyards, and said: “Otherwise this whole valley will revert back to scrub.”

It has not been scrub for a long time.

Every year, the Romans ripped off their sandals to tread the Douro Valley grapes pretty much as some of Paul’s harvest is trod by villagers today.

The rest is done by computerised machines that simulate human feet.

Long ago, I read an article on gin-making. The gist of it was that for a branded gin, the product has to be exactly the same every year. When they buy juniper berries for gin, a crop that is too high quality – too plump, too juicy – will be rejected. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad, what matters is that it is the same.

But computerized, simulated feet? Come on!

Very often, we associate longevity with knowledge. This makes sense; if you do something for a very long time, you get a lot of experience with it, you learn what works and what doesn’t. It’s hard to not get good at it.

But it’s possible. Sometimes when you do things for a very long time, you become a slave to “the way we have always done it” and the very weight of experience which should benefit your expertise becomes a barrier to it.

In particular, extreme longevity can destroy knowledge, because once a stable state is reached, the knowledge needed to recreate that state fades away and is lost. If the pinnacle of an art is stable, then the knowledge needed to attain the pinnacle is no longer needed.

To me, designing a machine that simulates human feet tells me you don’t understand the process. And it’s stupid. But not in the good way, although it is kind of funny.

If you understood the process of grape crushing, perhaps you could design a grape crushing machine that made sense as a grape crushing machine and that was free from the burden of simulating human feet.

PostScript: I’m probably being over snarky here, because in all likelihood, the vineyard fully understands the process and the article badly misrepresents the machine in question. I have in my mind a most wonderful contraption built of gears and booted dowels; the actual press is probably far more mundane.

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Sounds like real change

December 29, 2009 under curios

“Ramsey’s method looks like something new to me: not a marginal change of behavioral preferences, but a monster-sized one. Adherents are converted, financially, in the same way that some convert religiously.”

Chris Blattman talking about financial conversion.

Conversion’s a funny word. You’d almost think it was supposed to represent some kind of real life change.

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Losing Track

December 18, 2009 under theology

Think of all the things that we forget over the course of 1000 years.

Then think of the fidelity and consistency of orthodox Christian doctrine over that same period of time.

It’s quite remarkable.

At the very least, it is most obviously not a cultural phenomenon. Because those get discarded quite quickly.

God is not a Ninja Turtle.

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On the importance of a professional image

December 15, 2009 under tongueincheek

At Save on Foods, the clerks carry knives. They carry them on their belts, hung in little pouches, nestled in among the pens and little notepads.

Knives.

I saw one clerk there who had a dark green apron fastened beneath a broad black belt. The cloth hung like a tunic; he looked like a retail Robin Hood, striding about, his knife in his pouch at his side.

That must have been some staff meeting -  when they got them. It would have been on a Sunday evening after store closing. The staff would have been grumbling about the mandatory meeting on their day off.

The manager, clearing his throat.

“Inventory has shown a rise in shoplifting of 14% over the last quarter. As per head office, there is a new initiative going forward.”

“Here are your knives.”

Passing the box around.

“Please display them prominently. We don’t have holders yet, head office has said we should get them Wednesday next week.”

“There is a new module on e-learning dealing with the display and brandishing of the knife. There’s a two week deadline, please be responsible and go through it before then. It should be fairly straightforward, I think everyone’s familiar with a knife??”

I wonder if the shoplifters noticed. Maybe in their underground rings they talk about it. “Stay away from Save on. They’re mean over there, and they carry.”

Nah, probably not.

But I bet the packing boxes are terrified.

Aardvarks

December 14, 2009 under tongueincheek

Q)What do you call the fat French Aardvark?

A)L’ardvark

Q)What do you call a quarter-pound French Aardvark?

A)A Royale.

Q)What do you call a quarter-pound French Aardvark that you make bad jokes about?

A)A Royale with cheese.

Q)What do you say to a six fingered Aardvark?

A)”Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my ant. Prepare to die.”

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Internet weirdness

December 12, 2009 under metablogging

AmbaSewa wrote:

“I currently post comments on a fairly regular basis on four blogs.
Two are the blogs of total strangers. Mind you, the totality of their strangeness is reducing- one particularly blogs prolifically.”

There’s a weirdness that comes from reading other people’s deep expressions on a blog.

You become engaged and drawn in and you *feel* a connection. But there really isn’t a connection, because it’s only one sided. The feeling is there, but there’s nothing genuine backing it. You read something that has you emotionally fired up. But you don’t know the person and they don’t know you.

There are, I think, two sides to it. I once heard there are two sides to everything ;-)

The Sharing Side

Traditionally, people build up conversation about deeply personal stuff relatively slowly and only with people they trust. People become acquaintances, and then social friends, and then good friends, and maybe best friends.

And then they talk about these things.

But now, we can record our innermost stuff on the internet! Nothing feels risky anymore, because there’s no immediate feedback to tell us we’ve done something unwise and possibly damaging. Hmm… I think I’ll say that again because it feels important.

Nothing feels risky anymore.

In the flesh and blood world, when you say something deeply personal in the wrong company, you know it. Immediately. Things get to that really awkward place really fast. I know. I’ve been there, on both sides. I don’t have to tell you this. You know. You’ve been there. On both sides.

When you post something online, you don’t get that feedback. People could be reading this very post and shuddering, and saying, “I’ll never speak to him again. Too much information! That was unspeakably awkward.” Probably not – but the point is, I don’t get to see them react that way. People could be feeling all warm and fuzzy. I don’t know.

The vast majority of people who read, don’t comment. The result is that when you post something like that… It doesn’t feel either catastrophic or heroic. The feeling of it is totally removed from the reality.

And so we’re led to make decisions we wouldn’t otherwise. Like sharing something that is best friend, pinky-swear material because we never know that it makes things awkward.

The Hearing Side

The hearing side weirdness is what happens when we browse our Facebook feed. We’re sitting there flipping through and we know everything that’s going on in all our friends’ lives. We feel connected. But we weren’t really part of any of those stories.

There’s that disconnect with reality again. We feel differently than we should. Welcome to Internet weirdness.

It happens when we see someone dumping their soul on a blog. It’s compelling.

We don’t really know how to respond, because the messages we’re receiving are contradicting one another. On the one hand, we’re reading pinky-swear stuff – it’s a real best friend level interaction. On the other hand, it’s coming from a complete stranger.

What exactly is the right and proper relationship? It doesn’t fit any pre-built boxes.

This is similar to Seth Godin’s “fake networking” - the illusion, and more importantly, the feeling of being connected, but without any genuine interchange of something worthwhile. Friendship is built on sacrifice and if you’ve only read someone’s blog, there hasn’t been any yet.

That’s why conversation is important. That’s why the exchange (and not just consumption) of worthwhile thoughts and feelings is important. That’s why commenting is valuable. It grounds people. It gives people something that, while not as effective as a face to face conversation, is suddenly far more real than just reading.

People can build real friendships this way. We’ve done it through letters in the past. There are still limitations, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make this medium work for us.

We will adapt, and we will eventually arrive at a social approach that works – that isn’t awkward or inappropriate, that is sustainable and not viewed as all-sufficient.

I bet it will have better feedback mechanisms though.

What do energy and money have in common?

December 10, 2009 under theology

They both exist in measurable quantities.

They also both exist with varying qualities.

Energy has a quality. It can be organized or disorganized, and it can degrade from organization to disorganization without requiring more energy. But it canot increase its quality without the input of external energy. We call this tendancy to degrade “entropy”.

Does money also have a quality?

Absolutely it does.

A bill you find on the street – a windfall – has a completely different quality than one earned. It has a different quality than one that is given as part of an inheritance.
The money you get from winning the lottery is toxic. You might say it is cursed; it has a distinctive destructive quality among those who receive it.

Stolen money has a different quality entirely. It seems that pirate money is spent in consistent fashion, regardless of greater context.

It’s tempting to say that once you throw money into an account or a pool, it loses its particular quality and becomes disorganized.

But once you start thinking about how money can have a high or low quality and mean more or less, independent of its quantity, life in general starts to make more sense. It explains why a labourer’s twenty dollar note means more than a bank’s million.

The next logical question is, of course,

“Can money have that most remarkable quality – holiness?”

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An Internet Story

December 9, 2009 under Uncategorized

Let me tell you a story. I have called it an internet story, and while it is a story that takes place on the internet, it is really a story about people.

It’s a story about a man who built a tool – a tool for Twitter. Now, if twitter is a bazaar, his tool was a little cafe, where people could  hang out and enjoy the best of the atmosphere and the environment without the elbows and the yelling and the smell and the heat.

He established a means of connection in an ocean of strangers. Because he built a tool that allowed people to come together and interact with one another, the people using it did what people everywhere do when they come together to interact – they formed a community.

And then one day, abruptly, decisively and without ceremony, he destroyed it. Took it down; wiped it, archives and all. People showed up… and it wasn’t there. It was gone.

Confusion. Anger. Turmoil.

Why?

What makes the creator of something, – the author – the founder – reject and destroy it?

You can read his answer here.

What he says is remarkable on many levels.

“And then I took a hard look at the stats: the site was getting a million or so pageviews every month, but from a rather small number of unique IPs. As people reflexively refreshed their personal pages, sometimes thousands of times a day, I began to feel like the manager of a comedy club in which comedians crack a joke, then repeatedly run from table to table to stare each patron in the eye, looking for the love.”

“As I began to accept the implausibility of my own judgements of others, I spotted something beneath that seemed much darker and trickier to understand: pain. Every wavelet of pleasure set in motion by a site like Favrd sits on an ocean of emotional hurt”

I have a great respect for Dean Allen and the revelation at which he arrived. I understand the anger of the people who lost something of value to them. For some people, it was frustrating, because they weren’t acting out of pain.

Is human pain opt out? Can we chose to not perpetrate suffering? Are we wrong to try?

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Moron alert

December 8, 2009 under technical, thehumancondition

Seth is brilliantly right today.

Ask any software developer, though, and they will tell you that Seth’s postulated 2 percent is invariably much greater.

2 percent is the minimum. The baseline. It only goes up from there.

Generally, however,  programmers don’t believe that they’re in the business of building relationships and connections and so the umpteen percent are told that if they don’t like it, they can walk.

Happy RTFMing, n00b!

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Winter fun

December 6, 2009 under Uncategorized

The first vehicle I pushed out of a snowbank was a hybrid.

The driver seemed embarassed. He said, “I’m sorry, I only have one gear”.

To be fair, it would be reasonable to ask what the snowbank was doing in the middle of the road (answer – blocking traffic) but I admit, my inner redneck was doing a happy little hoedown at the fate of the hapless, helpless, gutless geo-mobile.

The next vehicle I pushed, stuck not ten feet away from the same spot, was a good ol’ pickup truck.

Umm…

It wasn’t carrying a lot of weight in the back?

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