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“May God have mercy on your unintentionally ironic soul.”

Archive for May, 2008


29
May

50,000

China seeks earthquake aid from Japan - CNN.com

China is having problems with lakes dammed by earthquake debris. The natural dams will eventually burst, causing widespread flooding and death. China is trying to avoid that, of course. As it’s hard to wrap one’s mind around the sheer volume of water involved, a Chinese engineer helpfully provides a comparison for one of the new lakes:

The lake is holding 130 million cubic meters (170 million cubic yards) of water — equal to about 50,000 Olympic-size swimming pools, according to Liu Ning, chief engineer of the Ministry of Water Resources.

The main thing to notice about Mr Ning’s comparison is that it doesn’t help at all. 50,000 Olympic-sized swimming pools? I don’t comprehend 50,000 of anything. I don’t care if you stack them to the moon or line them up on the equator; you’re not helping me. 50,000 is just too many. And it’s cute how everything’s so goddamn Olympic over there right now. But the visual didn’t really make it, Mr Ning, I’m sorry.

“Wait, how about a stadium full of people. An Olympic stadium; perhaps a velodrome. That’s 50,000, right? Maybe more? You can see that, right? I mean, if you have a ticket?”

Sure, why not. Let each dot equal one person. Let each person equal one Olympic-sized swimming pool. That’s a shitload of water. I get that. I get that it’s a lot. But I can’t even visualize 50,000 people when I see them in a stadium. It’s just this seething mass of other. If we want to call that seething mass of other ‘50,000,’ that’s fine, just please don’t pretend that you’re really grokking how many people that is, or how many swimming pools they represent. You’re not, either, you know.

Also funny about that quote: the 130,000,000 cubic meters of water = 50,000 Olympic swimming pools equation is attributed to Mr Ning. As if AP or CNN has nobody on staff who could POSSIBLY verify that through the magic of mathematical calculation: “Well, Mr Ning says this equals that, but we really have no way we can think of to back that up. He seems like a very nice young man, though, so we quoted him.”

Is this what news agencies have come to? They have neither the time nor the resources to verify even the smallest, most easily verifiable factoid that crosses their desks?

This doesn’t lead me to fear for humanity, exactly, because humanity has undergone worse trials than overworked fact-checkers in the last couple thousand years. That’s true. But I used to assume things would get better as I got older. I think we all did. And it’s just not the case. There is an absurd number of lazy or dishonest people out there, and that number seems to be growing every day. Probably at least 50,000 of them by now.

Thank you! You’ve been great!


28
May

NASA preps fix for space station toilet trouble

NASA preps fix for space station toilet trouble - CNN.com


The three male residents have temporarily bypassed the problem, which involves urine collection, not solid waste.

I don’t know what this means. How does being male help an astronaut bypass a malfunctioning toilet? Do they open the airlock and piss out into the void?

I don’t know what this means.


27
May

Because stick figures aren’t what I had in mind #2

panel 1: Man at desk, poring over book with a look of grim determination. Other books are stacked and scattered on the desktop.

panel 2: With air of finality, man slams book shut with both hands. Relief and hard-won wisdom are etched on his face. He says “There! It’s done!”

panel 3: Man leans back in seat, talking over his shoulder to another student at another desk who glances up briefly from his own studies to hearĀ ”I can now say ‘go fuck yourself’ in six different languages.”


22
May

Relentless

It just keeps coming!

We’ve had a subscription to The New Yorker for about four months now. I guess I got tired of having to wait until I had to use the facilities in other people’s houses to read it. I mainly got tired of spending a suspicious amount of time in other people’s bathrooms, time that other people might imagine is being put to other uses. You know how people who aren’t me are! And it turns out that the magazines are incredibly cheap if you get the mailman to bring them to you.

But there’s one other thing I’ve noticed about The New Yorker: it just keeps coming. Every other day, it seems, there’s a new one squatting in my mailbox with the flyers and the bills. Did I have time to read the last one? I did not. Am I falling farther behind? I am. It’s gotten so bad that I haven’t even managed to look at the comics for the last two issues. That, ladies and gentlemen, is bad. And I see it only getting worse, unless I remember to bring an issue or five with me on plane trips in order to catch up.

Life was easier when The New Yorker happened only in other people’s bathrooms.


16
May

“You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din” through the ages

relativistic Gunga

1880: Soldiers cowering behind a bulwark as Din delivers water to the dying on the battlefield, bullets whizzing round his head.

1911: Farmers resting on bales of hay while Din tirelessly tills the fields before the crows descend and eat the seed.

1936: Migrant workers listlessly setting up camp as Din canvasses the surrounding region for job opportunities for himself, and his compatriots too, if there’s enough work.

1955: Townsfolk searching high and low for communists while Din allows an out-of-work screenwriter to stay at his apartment “for a day or two, until this thing blows over.”

1964: Police shooting protesters with water cannons as Din limits his use of the word “nigger” to twice a week.

1992: Investors bidding up the armaments industry on rumors that the US is about to increase weapons buying while Din throws his money into biotechs because he sees a chance to make a tidy profit while riding the “it’s also making a difference” angle.

2008: Net surfers scouring the web for the last scrap of child porn as Din downloads the youtube movie, you know, the one with the pack of hyenas and the theretofore unconcerned German tourists filming them from the open jeep.

“Aye, you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.”


14
May

unionism, liberalism, and managed perception

Strike Santa

Imagine if your job were set up in such a way that your value within the company rose over time, yet that value could not be extracted and put to work at any other company. For example, you’ve been working for IBM for 15 years, but now IBM does something that really pisses you off. Yet you can’t pack up and leave for Google, because they will not recognize your 15 years at IBM. They will only recognize your several minutes (and counting) of time at Google, and pay you accordingly. Imagine that.

You could respond by saying “I’d never go into a field that was set up in such a way; I’d do something different.” But say you really liked doing what only IBM does. Or say your natural progression through life led you down this path, almost unbeknownst to you, until you finally had a chance to look back to see where you came from. In other words, your tenure at IBM is a kind of fait accompli. And if for whatever idle reason you ended up at General Motors or Best Buy or Barney, Barney, and Tate instead, other people, people you know, just like you, ended up working at IBM through the magic of statistical probability. It’s like this: some people are blue-eyed, some people have a recessive gene for dwarfism, some people work for IBM. There is a certain amount of choice involved in working for IBM, but some bodies, many bodies, work for it, and that is ineluctable. Try to remember how you fell into the job you have now, and remember how serendipitous that was. Remember?

Imagine that IBM is old, its industry is hoary. Generations of workers have imagined it as their goal, and a great press of workers is ready to do IBM’s work for almost any amount of money, because they don’t know any better. But IBM cannot hire these workers for any amount of money; they can only hire them for a contractually certain amount of money. A union-bargained amount of money.

Imagine that Unionism caused the devaluation of your work at comparable companies at the same time it caused your value to increase at IBM, but that this is not ipso facto a consequence of unionism itself. One can point to other industries where this did not happen, because a union was nascently and presciently fashioned to include all companies in the industry, not each company individually. But for IBM the time of nascence is long passed; the union is what it is, and too many people would be economically hurt to change its charter now. So from a worker’s standpoint, there are better and worse ways for a union to have come about. An industry-wide union will exist and bargain and allow its workers to prosper for as long as the industry exists; a company-specific union will exist and bargain and allow its workers to prosper for only as long as the company exists and prospers. Imagine there were political reasons that the latter was the only initial path to Unionism for IBM’s workers.

Imagine all that; now tell me how distaste for unions and Unionism can arise in workers without a concerted political effort to undermine unions and Unionism by powers that would rather hire workers for any amount of money, and fire workers for any reason. “But my distaste for Unionism comes from my personal, considered distaste for unions’ excesses and corruption;” but what unregulated or poorly regulated social or political agency ever maintained its original aims? And now that unions are better regulated, and have been better regulated for decades now–much the same way that some industries (oil, mortgage, health insurance) and the management of those industries have not– now that this is true, from where does the distaste arise? From considered thought? Or from politically-managed perception?

“I’m a manager at IBM. I can tell you that the unionized workers here are lazy, that they hide their laziness behind their contract, and that they feel entitled to that laziness.” With all due respect, Mr Manager, there are inefficiencies on both sides of the managerial divide. Inefficiencies are what make a job bearable. Inefficiencies are what keep one from being forced to work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The difference between managerial and worker inefficiencies is that the workers bargained for theirs, and you take yours when you think the Board isn’t looking or doesn’t care. That’s the difference. And if by some chance the Board does glance your way and sees you taking a little personal time in between moaning about the workers’ sense of entitlement, and fires your ass, you have the opportunity to pack up and start over at Google at a comparable salary, because that is the way your job was set up long before you took it.

I have no idea how I ended up working in a unionized industry. I look back, and all I can say is that it just sort of happened that way. But now that I’m here, now that my life is intertwined with the well-being of my union (and the well-being of my company, since that is how the Unionism ball bounced in my industry), now that all that is true, I find myself paying attention to how Unionism is portrayed in the media. It’s not a good portrayal; the public does not view Unionism in a good light. Perceptions have been managed.

Imagine that this kind of perception management happens all the time, in other ways, for other movements. Liberalism, for example. That’s not hard to imagine, is it? How else can we reconcile the way many citizens vote against the very people and things that would help them most? Or vote for the very people and things that help them the least; that, in fact, willfully cause great misery in their lives?

There is no way.

And how can we justify the actions of the worker who votes against fellow workers because raising their standards of living will be an inconvenience?

There is no way.

“First they came for the Communists,
And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist;
And then they came for the trade unionists,
And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist;
And then they came for the Jews,
And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew;
And then they came for me;
And by that time there was no one left to speak up.”


09
May

Turds of Glory

Earliest American Scat Found

The earliest-known fossilized feces was found recently in Oregon, placing humans on the American continents 1000 years earlier than previously believed. What do you think?

Sarah Fripp,
Systems Analyst
“I like to think that in thousands of years somebody is going to be looking at my poop.”

Sarah, we’d all like to think that. Or maybe just me.


01
May

Farthest South

pretty far south

Farthest South

Farthest South (sometimes stated as Furthest South), describes the most southerly latitude achieved by man before the conquest of the South Pole rendered the term obsolete.

I love stuff like this.

My own personal Farthest South is probably Lima. Farthest North is probably Andoya, Norway. I could confirm, but that would make this post harder than I care to make it.

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