Entries in thoughts (20)


The Hegelian-Discordian Dialectic in the Era of Trump

Given this blog’s theme of “my thoughts and the influences behind them”, I really can’t pass up the chance to comment on this recent post by the Archdruid (Emeritus), John Michael Greer, a Hegelian-Discordian analysis of the recent election. Excellent, excellent post. And very relevant to me because of my own fondness for Discordianism, that great joke religion / joke / actual religion (hail Eris! all hail Discordia!). To recap the central bit:

The Hegelian theory of history involves phases of thesis (a worldview rises to dominance), antithesis (a reaction to that idea emerges to oppose it), synthesis (the two are reconciled somehow and the cycle begins again).

This violates the key Discordian principle that all worldviews (including Discordianism), are hopelessly broken in the face of ultimate chaos. It also maybe violates the Discordian principle of the Law of Fives: “All things happen in fives, or are divisible by or are multiples of five, or are somehow directly or indirectly appropriate to 5.”

Thus, Discordianism has its own Hegelian-Discordian theory of the cycles of history: Thesis, antithesis, synthesis, parenthesis, paralysis. Also described in terms of flavors of disorder: Chaos, Discord, Confusion, Consternation, and Moral Warptitude. In the last two phases, there are increasing efforts to paper over the insufficiencies, inherent contradictions, etc. in the newly-synthesized status quo, followed by everything going completely socioeconomireligopoliticulturally screwy.

Currently, the world is dominated by a neoliberal/neoconservatives status quo. Given that the world is dominated by similar modifications of nominally-antonymic ideologies with definitions that have substantially converged1, Confusion clearly abounds. And recent populist revolts against that status quo, which seem like a trend, also don’t fit the usual pattern of ideological Discord. (e.g. the voters for Brexit were doing so without some really basic facts about what policy changes would result and when, and Donald Trump’s willingness to say the “unacceptable” is a heck of a lot more consistent than his stance on basically any policy issue.) I’m not saying there aren’t ideological disagreements with the status quo present throughout all of this, but there’s a point where disagreements with the status quo are no longer in the drivers seat and a general desire to tear down the status quo is.

Moving beyond the recap, that JMJ post got me thinking about the topic of internet trolls. I’ve joked that with the election of Trump, America’s first black President is being followed by America’s first troll President

Trolling seeks to upset or confound, to elicit a reaction. In parallel to the above, trolling can be ideological, but there’s a point where the desire to advance some ideology is no longer in the driver’s seat and trolling for trolling’s sake is. So one could (as I am about to do now for the hell of it) take the Hegelian-Discordian Dialectic and turn it into an ad hoc taxonomy of trolling:

  • Chaos - Straightforward trolling
  • Discord - Trolling as a means to an overt political end
  • Synthesis - Concern trolling and other forms of covert provocation
  • Consternation - Trolling as an overt rejection of norms of civility
  • Moral Warptitude - Trolling for trolling’s sake

Given that analysis, 4chan’s “random” board, /b/, is one of the most dramatic and obvious examples of Moral Warptitude on the internet. To the extent that part of the internet can be unmoored from surrounding norms of civility (i.e. not completely), /b/ is. But to be a nexus of trolling means that it’s all “trolls trolling trolls”, and while such nexuses may be free from norms of civility in some sense, they’re surrounded by societies where those norms are still kicking. The form of chaos that characterizes the interactions at the interface between internet trolldom and the rest of society is Consternation. And, as previously established, we’re in a political moment where Consternation reigns supreme.

I doubt Trump is spending much time on /b/, and his trolling style is definitely more off-the-cuff and boorish than witty or elaborately self-referential. But Trump doesn’t have to be a paragon of trolling to be the world’s most successful internet troll. He just has to be an internet troll who’s just gotten himself elected President of the United States.

Because bigoted rhetoric confounds and upsets, insincerely adopting that rhetoric can be an effective form of trolling, and sincerely doing so can be an even more effective form of trolling. The current social media landscape is tuned to make resharing content easy, which means it’s tuned to making retrolling trolling easy. It’s reasonable to think that someone as central as the President tapping into this kind of thing could give the Overton window a giant shove, and there’s more directions in which we could go into an era of Moral Warptitude than just a general defeat of the norms of political correctness.

1. For example, a Google search for those two words reveals definitions of “relating to a modified form of liberalism tending to favor free-market capitalism” and  “relating to or denoting a return to a modified form of a traditional viewpoint, in particular a political ideology characterized by an emphasis on free-market capitalism and an interventionist foreign policy”, emphasis mine. (The definitions seem to be from here and here.)


Thoughts on "Victimhood Culture"

This article in the Atlantic has been making the rounds recently, commenting on a recent scholarly paper (sadly paywalled) on the theory of microagression. Some things that struck me about the piece:

1. It’s strange that most of the commentary on the article acts as if Campbell and Manning (the authors) are dispassionate sociologists, when they clearly have a dog in the fight. They’re charactering past cultures in terms of virtues those cultures nominally value, then don’t even try to identify what virtue the modern culture they disparage is reaching for. It might be accurate to speak of a “solidarity culture”, where the way to respond to a slight is to encourage mass opprobrium, and shibboleths and linguistic norms that demonstrate in-group identity are of paramount importance.

2. It’s really strange that the Atlantic article comments extensively on a blog post from nearly two years ago. Sure, the blog has “microaggressions” in the title, but the Oberlin Microaggresions Tumblr was active from February to September 2013. Despite the title, the stuff it started off cataloging doesn’t exactly fit the bill. (The point of microaggressions is that stuff that’s not overtly aggressive can still be grating, not that it may be ambiguous to what extent an overtly awful person is being a troll.)

3. That blog starts out as a discussion of really overt racism, continues with posts that are a mix of overt racism and the sort of thing actually meant by “microaggressions”, then ends with an angry rant by a Hispanic student who tells a white student to “leave the soccer team” for daring to speak a word of Spanish, mocks their attempt to apologize, and asserts that they “take up to [sic] much space”. The blog ends at that point, with no explanation why. Probably whoever was running the blog moved on to other things, but it would fit the narrative arc to say that last post was some sort of culmination of the state of racial discourse at Oberlin, at which point students decided to never write about that subject, or possibly any subject, ever again. (At the very least, such a narrative would make fine fodder for an Atlantic article.)

4. The article notes:

If “dignity culture” is characterized by a reticence to involve third parties in minor disputes, an argument could be made that many black and brown people are denied its benefits. In a city like New York during the stop-and-frisk era, minorities were stopped by police because other people in their community, aggrieved by minor quality-of-life issues like loitering or sitting on stoops or squeegee men, successfully appealed to third-parties to intervene by arguing that what may seem like small annoyances were actually burdensome and victimizing when aggregated.

To what extent are non-collegians engaged in policing microaggressions by another name?

If you already have political power, it is easy to be dignified. Simply appeal to the law only for serious matters, once your culture has successfully set the definition of what is “serious”. Anything not serious can be easily ignored.

5. Were the lunch counter sit-ins of the 1960s a product of “dignity culture” or “victimhood culture”? Those protests neither “exercised covert avoidance” nor “sought only to restore harmony without passing judgment”. They appealed for political support against something other than “the most serious of offenses”. Was that an example of “toleration and negotiation”, or a “complaint”, aimed at winning the political support of third parties?

6. A Megan McArdle piece on the same article notes (of duels):

The seconds, the formalities, the extended opportunities for apology, raise the cost of fighting, lower the cost of not doing so, and thereby mitigate the appalling violence to which honor cultures are prone. Unless victim culture can find similar stopping mechanisms, it will collapse into the bloodless version of the endless blood-feuds that made us seek alternatives to honor cultures in the first place.

“Bloodless” is still more than enough to ruin lives, of course. And even when overt violence has been relegated to the margins, any sufficiently big mob is enough to give a violent fringe plenty of motive force.

7. The Atlantic article links to a post by Jonathan Haidt. Haidt wrote a book called The Coddling of the American Mind. In the page on his site where he talks about critical response to the book, he writes:

The New Republic: The trigger warning myth, by Aaron Hanlon. This is a thoughtful essay about the sensitivities needed to lead a seminar class through difficult material. His main point is that TWs are not a form of censorship. I agree. He argues that sometimes guidance is needed beforehand. I agree with that too. I just think its very bad for students to call it a “trigger warning,” or to do anything to convey to students the expectation that they will be warned about… everything.

So you want to write a book about how annoying liberals are, but lack any substantial disagreement. Nothing to do but get into a knock-down drag-out fight about linguistic norms.

8. “Political correctness has gone too far” has gone too far. Well, that’s the joke. More accurate would be: “Political correctness has gone too far” has not gone anywhere.


Eight-Bit A Capella and Creativity Through Constraint

One of the things I enjoy is a capella remixes of video game music.  There’s a lot of reasons I find that compelling:  Can’t underestimate the nostalgic power of something you’ve heard over and over growing up, and some of the music is just really good.  But one reason why it’s compelling is that both old video game music and a capella singing are great examples of creativity through constraint.  Of course, any musical composition is creative, but there’s a different sort of lateral thinking required if you want to evoke the musical tropes of orchestral music without the benefit of an actual orchestra.

Want an epic pipe-organ theme for your ominous final level, but all you have is an 8-bit soundcard?  Do it anyways!

(Though I would love to find a great rendition of that on an actual pipe-organ.  This one is awesome in parts but trips over some of the super-hard arpeggios, this extended cover doesn’t stumble, but it slows the tempo down quite a bit.)

A capella music faces a very similar issue, and thus in the case of covers of old video game music, provides a striking twist on one of the aspects that made the original great.  Same creative essence, different constraint.

For an example, let’s consider a track from one of the greatest games on the Super Nintendo, Secret of Mana.  The soundtrack for that game was composed by Hiroki Kikuta, a brilliant composer with a knack for getting the most out of the limited hardware.  This track is an early theme from the game called “Into the Thick of It” (少年は荒野をめざす, “A Boy Heads Into the Wilderness”).  Here’s the original:

And here’s a rendition by a capella musician Smooth McGroove (see also on Patreon):

Of course, you can provide a similar twist by taking things in a different direction.  Here’s a full orchestral version (a medley, but the song above can be found from 4:52 to 6:10):


Examining Narrative Games as Art

I recently finished playing Telltale Games’ The Walking Dead, a wonderfully constructed game and a tremendously moving piece of interactive fiction.  That got me thinking about video games as narrative art, and that had my mind wander back to an old debate between the late film critic Roger Ebert and Clive Barker.  The fundamental disagreement is characterized here:

Barker: “I think that Roger Ebert’s problem is that he thinks you can’t have art if there is that amount of malleability in the narrative. In other words, Shakespeare could not have written ‘Romeo and Juliet’ as a game because it could have had a happy ending, you know? If only she hadn’t taken the damn poison. If only he’d have gotten there quicker.”

 Ebert: He is right again about me. I believe art is created by an artist. If you change it, you become the artist. Would “Romeo and Juliet” have been better with a different ending? […]

Barker: […] Let’s invent a world where the player gets to go through every emotional journey available. That is art. […]

Ebert: If you can go through “every emotional journey available,” doesn’t that devalue each and every one of them? […]

And this is something that I wish Barker had characterized better because it’s so obviously a poor description of great narrative games.

Incidentally, I’m not trying to criticize or argue with Ebert.  The former would be piling on to an argument that’s long since over.  As for the latter, I’m obviously too late.  I just want to discuss that central point.  Because Ebert’s claim does seem reasonable on the face of it.  It’s hard to imagine a great film where control over direction, camera work, and even script is (sometimes) essentially handed over to the audience.  It was clear to me from experience that this didn’t destroy the narrative intent of the game creators, and that something powerful was gained in return.  But at the time Ebert’s remarks seemed so off the mark I don’t give that central point the nuanced response it deserved.

Constrained Choice

Barker failed to make a crucial distinction between an art-form as a whole and individual instances of that art-form.  Cinema could also be described as allowing the viewer to go through “any emotional journey available”, but an individual movie does not.  Great narrative (or you could say “cinematic”) video games also don’t present the player with “any emotional journey available”.  Telltale’s The Walking Dead is a tragedy.  Like Ebert’s example of Romeo and Juliet, the structure of the story does not permit a (satisfying) happy ending.  Telltale’s representation of The Walking Dead is more interactive than (most) stage presentations of Romeo and Juliet, but the interactivity of that representation of the story still doesn’t permit a happy ending.  A central question of Telltale’s The Walking Dead is whether it is more important to protect a child’s physical safety or their ethical/emotional humanity, in situations where you can’t protect both (or maybe not even either).

The Power of Dialog

Barker failed to address Ebert’s point about directorial control head-on.  Given that audience-members are (probably) not great directors, and they haven’t even looked over the script in advance, interactivity implies a loss of directorial control that is clearly a loss in terms of ease of conveying a specific artistic vision.  The correct question is:  What is gained in return?

One answer is that cinematic games have the potential to engage in actual dialog with the audience.  They can have different reactions to different player choices.  And, importantly, this is generally a distinct, small set of reactions to a distinct set of constrained choices.  Dichotomies (and false dichotomies) are a very important feature of human thought, and a key bit of artistic potential that cinematic games have that cinema does not is the ability to explore that feature through interactivity.


The dialog of interactivity (often, but not always, achieved by games through interactive dialog) gives games a powerful way of putting the audience in the shoes of a perspective character.  This is done in several ways:

1. Collaborative character interpretation: The players interpretation of a character influences interactive character decisions, which in turn influence how the character is portrayed as the narrative continues.

2. Forced parallel between audience emotions and character emotions: Games can use interactivity to force a parallel between character emotion and player emotion through game mechanics.  Well-crafted game mechanics can induce a whole range of emotions, including hope, disappointment, triumph, frustration, suspense, tedium, flow, surprise, and epiphany.  That goes for non-narrative games as well, but in a narrative game you can use those mechanics simultaneously to scenes where the character is feeling the relevant emotion.

It’s not simple, there are real costs to doing so.  If you want to create the emotion of suspense or triumph, you probably need to back that up with a real possibility of failure, often with no better way to get back to the story than “back up a bit and try that again”.  And sometimes the objectives are contradictory; it’s hard to produce a mechanic that makes the player feel the character’s feeling of frustration without thwarting the forward progress of the narrative, or making the player so frustrated that focus is drawn away from the narrative instead of into it.  Still, there are tricks that can be employed to have mechanics work one way in the game-as-game and another way in the game-as-narrative.  Often this involves concealing the true nature of a game mechanic, or setting up player expectations and then thwarting them.  Telltale’s The Walking Dead does so with quicktime events, which generally are “press X to not die” sorts of affairs, but used in other situations to get player emotions to mirror character emotions as diverse as suspense (a character doesn’t know if rescue will arrive on time), false hope (a character thinks they can struggle onwards if they try hard enough, but they can’t), and blind rage (a character thinks a fight they are in is a life-and-death struggle even after their opponent is helpless).

If you think that it’s somehow inartistic to layer over a (narratively) disconnected art-form in order to get the audience in a particularly receptive emotional frame of mind, note that cinema does the same thing with music.  Of course, games can use that trick, too.

3. False interactivity: Games can get moments where they have their cake and eat it, too, when it comes to directorial control.  If you do a good enough job with getting the audience in the right state of mind, you can create a situation where the player’s action is invisibly constrained, offering them a false choice that seems like a real choice, where the player is really getting inside the characters head when they realize that there is only one thing they can do in this situation.

Probably the most powerful example of this I’ve encountered is this scene from Ico, which occurs just after the “second act” in the game’s story.  The cutscene breaks back into interactive gameplay right in the middle, where the protagonist has been separated from his friend and must quickly decide whether to leap a widening chasm to join her or to leave her behind and flee for safety.  It’s a false choice, there’s no significant narrative for players who choose the latter, or even those who hesitate too long, just a game over screen.  But that usually doesn’t matter, everything in the narrative and the mechanics of the gameplay up to that point sets the player up to make the right choice for the narrative, without hesitation.  Instead of being a loss of directorial control, it’s a powerful moment of congruence.


Extremist Terrorism's False Flag

As a resident of the Boston area in the aftermath of the marathon bombings, I have to say the conspiracy theories have already gotten really annoying.  In this case, the simple hypothesis is actually very well supported, and conspiracy theorists tend to support their hypotheses with observations that are just as likely or almost as likely if they were completely incorrect.

But I do want to say a little bit about this concept of a false flag operation in the context of terrorists like the Tsarnaevs.  One of the things that’s odd about such a terrorist attack is it’s extremely unclear what sort of goals it might hope to achieve.  At least, it seems unlikely to frighten the US towards an isolationist policy, or achieve any end that directly supports the goals of (the violent extremist flavor du jour) militant Islamists.

The proliferation of this sort of tactic might be best understood under the concept of a false flag.  In a false flag operation, an attack is disguised so as to provoke a misdirected response.  In the archetypal case, this involves a government falsifying an enemy attack (or secretly facilitating a real enemy attack) to bolster public support for military action against that enemy.  But there’s an alternative scenario, in which an enemy seeks to have one of their potential allies blamed for the attack.  Even if the ally is not fooled by this ploy, the provoked counter-attack could provide the need to unite against a common enemy.

The best counter-attack against terrorism, therefore, is as restrained as it is effective.  I don’t mind that the police and military told people to stay home on April 19.  I don’t mind that they searched Watertown house by house.  Yes, it’s costly and disruptive, but having a bomber on the loose is also costly and disruptive.  Yes, the guy wasn’t found in the initial search, but there’s only so much you can do with limited information.

Ultimately, though, the town is getting back to normal.  We feel no need to buy the extremist’s implicit declaration that there’s a war on.  We can treat them as ordinary criminals.  Boston has dealt with those before.


Trayvon Martin and the State of Discourse

I’ve been following the case of Trayvon Martin’s shooting at the hands of neighborhood watchman George Zimmerman.  On the left, there was a rush to accuse Zimmerman of cold-blooded murder.  On the right, there was a rush to paint Martin as a thug and double down on the racialized paranoia.  But the facts that really make or break the case (specifically, who started the fight) are currently unknown.  The unusual bits of Florida’s laws on self-defense don’t really apply to this case, they don’t excuse murder if you provoke someone into attacking you and then resort to lethal force, or if you attack first and later fear for your life when the fight doesn’t go your way.

There’s some interesting discussion to be had on the role of guns in self-defense and aggressive violence, guns win fights but also escalate the stakes awfully quick:

Statistically, incidents of guns being used successfully in self-defense are extremely rare. The following events are a lot more likely:

• Criminal gets hold of your gun and uses it against you.
• The gun gives you a psychological feeling of self-confidence that will cause you to get into bad situations you otherwise would have avoided if you did not have the gun.
• Use of a gun in an ambiguous situation will get you in prison for murder, which is worse than getting beaten up.
• Being prosecuted for murder will ruin your life even if the jury finds you not guilty.

The Zimmerman incident is a good example of the truth of the above. The video showed that Zimmerman wasn’t beaten up that bad. Without the gun, Trayvon probably would have run away after giving him a good but not life-threatening beating. And according to Zimmerman’s father, Trayvon saw the gun, which caused an escalation in the altercation.

There’s something to be said about race relations in this country, something to be said about violence, about respect and community, about culture, about the standards of criminal evidence.  But most of what I hear about this case depresses me because it seems to be overwhelmingly characterized by those that no longer hope for productive dialog on this sort of issue, from one side:

“An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” Mikhail Muhammad said at a Saturday press conference in Sanford, Fla., in which he also called on 10,000 black men to “capture” Zimmerman. “He should be fearful for his life”…

Or the other:

In the last few days I’ve repeatedly discussed blacks’ common attitude that their response to any white authority figure who asks them anything is to resist, fight, ignore, or run away. But the commenter at Half-Sigma puts it better: Non-blacks may not talk to blacks, period. To say anything to a black is to step into his territory, it is to dis him, and thus to provoke his righteous vengeance…

Seems like on some issues the state of discourse in this country is only slightly better off than Trayvon Martin.


Internet Blackout

If you’ve been paying attention to the internet, you probably noticed that a wide swath of website users and owners were none-too-pleased at the proposal of the PROTECT IP Act (PIPA) and the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) (from the US Senate and House of Representatives, respectively).  This led to a coordinated website strike and mobilization campaign last Wednesday.

There’s a great technical analysis of the problems with the bill on the Reddit blog here.  But I think the best analysis of the issue I’ve seen comes from this TED Talk given by Clay Shirky:

His central point is that SOPA and PIPA represent the latest in a trend in entertainment industry lobbying, away from getting Congress to define the distinction between legal and illegal copying (producing, for example, the Audio Home Recording Act of 1992), towards restricting copying through technical means and making it illegal to work around those “protections”.  The DMCA lets companies sell you “broken” (for the purpose of restricting copying) devices and makes it illegal for you to fix those devices.  PIPA and SOPA let the government (at the behest of the entertainment industry) break DNS to censor “pirate” sites, and would make it illegal to work around that (which requires search engines and the like to pay to police themselves so that they aren’t indiscriminately helping users find such things).

Cory Doctorow describes this trend towards technological control systems backed by force of law (and away from legislation about what sorts of things should or shouldn’t be legal, with restrictions on liberty sitting on the other side of due process) in a recent essay titled Lockdown: The Coming War on General Purpose Computing.

The bills have been defeated for now, and in the aftermath, many activists have pointed out that similar legislation will undoubtedly reemerge (under the same name, a new name, or grafted wholesale into something politically inconvenient for legislators to oppose).  But after watching Shirky and reading Doctorow, I’m convinced it’s not sufficient to oppose, whack-a-mole-style, the latest bit of oppressive-technology-backed-by-force-of-law that comes up.  It’s necessary to oppose the idea that companies should be allowed to sell computers that can work against their users in ways that the users are prohibited from fixing.  And it’s necessary to move the copyright debate back to what sorts of copying should or shouldn’t be allowed, regardless of what sorts of copyright law the entertainment industry might be willing to buy or sell.


Thoughts on Occupy Versus Police

(This post is way delayed and fairly disorganized, but I’m putting aside further editing in the interest of getting it out the digital door.)

Occupy is interesting, but it’s also interesting to consider the variety of tactics police have used in opposing the movement.  On the one hand, there’s the UC Davis incident, where the message of “if you are in the way, we will hose you down with military grade pepper spray at point-blank range” was communicated by actually doing just that.  That might be legal, even in the liberal 9th circuit, but doesn’t exactly defuse the situation, and it’s unclear whether it will prevent the protesters from achieving (some of) their goals.

On the other hand, there’s the aikido tactics of the St. Louis Police.  As related in this post by Brad Hicks, after a series of fake-out maneuvers, the police acted with a combination of power and restraint:

[…] [The police] didn’t show up in riot gear and helmets, they showed up in shirt sleeves with their faces showing. They not only didn’t show up with SWAT gear, they showed up with no unusual weapons at all, and what weapons they had all securely holstered. They politely woke everybody up. They politely helped everybody who was willing to remove their property from the park to do so. They then asked, out of the 75 to 100 people down there, how many people were volunteering for being-arrested duty? Given 33 hours to think about it, and 10 hours to sweat it over, only 27 volunteered. As the police already knew, those people’s legal advisers had advised them not to even passively resist, so those 27 people lined up to be peacefully arrested, and were escorted away by a handful of cops. The rest were advised to please continue to protest, over there on the sidewalk … and what happened next was the most absolutely brilliant piece of crowd control policing I have heard of in my entire lifetime.

All of the cops who weren’t busy transporting and processing the voluntary arrestees lined up, blocking the stairs down into the plaza. They stood shoulder to shoulder. They kept calm and silent. They positioned the weapons on their belts out of sight. They crossed their hands low in front of them, in exactly the least provocative posture known to man. And they peacefully, silently, respectfully occupied the plaza, using exactly the same non-violent resistance techniques that the protesters themselves had been trained in. […]

By dawn, the protesters were licked.

(Again, read the whole thing.)

The clearing of Occupy Boston used some of the St. Louis tactics, so maybe those are catching on.  More brutal tactics may or may not be self-defeating, but I suppose that depends on exactly how far police are willing to go, as Brad points out, addressed towards police:

In case you haven’t noticed, you are not the only police officers who have been asked to use as much force as necessary, in order to crack down on trivial ordinance violations, as an excuse to shut those citizens up. Your fellow police have been asked to shut down those protests in every country in Latin America, in every country in the Middle East, in every country in North Africa, and in almost every country in Europe. In country after country, one of three things has happened: the cops obeyed orders and the kleptocrats are getting away with imposing austerity, or else the cops obeyed orders but foreign governments stepped in, citing actual or impending police atrocities, and overthrew the kleptocrats, or else they did something that you chose not to do, this last week or two.

In a few countries, the cops saw that they didn’t have the choice of defending the perfectly law abiding, saw that they were being asked to defend criminals, concluded that they could not morally justify obeying the order to shut down the protests, and went home. Few if any of the protesters even asked the police to switch sides and join the protests against kleptocracy. Most of us know that that’s an unreasonable request, we know that most of you feel that you owe it to the uniform you wear, and to the oath you took, and to your fellow officers, not to join the protesters. But in the countries where the police, asked to use force to shut down peaceful protests against kleptocracy, took off their uniforms and went home until it was all over? Not just in the Arab (Spring) world, but in places like Iceland? Freedom is on the march. Nor have those countries slid into poverty because they refused to cover the debts that the thieves owed to the dishonest bankers; those countries are recovering from the global recession faster than we are.

Charles Stross has some interesting thoughts on how the police crackdown fits into the larger economic/political situation:

Public austerity is a great cover for the expropriation of wealth by the rich (by using their accumulated capital to go on acquisition sprees for assets being sold off for cents on the dollar by the near-bankrupt state). But public austerity is a huge brake on economic growth because it undermines demand by impoverishing consumers. Consequently, we’re in for another long depression. […]

Starving poor people with guns and nothing to lose scare the rich; their presence in large numbers is one major component of a pre-revolutionary situation. […] Worse, the poor have smartphones. […]

The oligarchs are therefore pre-empting the pre-revolutionary situation by militarizing the police (as guard labour).

The rest is interesting, too, including the comments.


Digital Generation

Kevin Kelly shares some anecdotes about the subset of the latest generation raised with cutting-edge technology from an early age.  Here’s one:

Another friend had a barely-speaking toddler take over his iPad. She could paint and handle complicated tasks on apps with ease and grace almost before she could walk. It is now sort of her iPad. One day he printed out a high resolution image on photo paper and left it on the coffee table. He noticed his toddler come up to up and try to unpinch the photo to make it larger, like you do on an iPad. She tried it a few times, without success, and looked over to him and said “broken.”]


Another reader had this story. Her son had access to a computer starting at the age of 2. Once while they were shopping in a grocery store, she paused to find a label on a product. “Just click on it,” her son suggested.

The comments are good, too.

The real question is whether this will have transient or lasting effects on how the children in question learn and think.  And will those effects be comparable to previous technological “generation gaps”, or qualitatively different?


"Occupy" Where Now?

The Occupy Wall Street protest and related protests are interesting, but they mostly remind me of my first pithy generalization on this blog.  The protests have garnered some attention, but unless they can be economically or politically disruptive, they won’t get anything done.  As near as I can tell, the protests have not yet had a significant political effect and as far as economic effects go… well, if it’s still “business as usual” for the place allegedly occupied, the “occupation” probably isn’t doing a very effective job.