Salon has run an excerpt from Al Franken's Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them
, a Fair and Balanced account of right-wing punditry that got him sued by Fox.
God began our conversation by clearing something up. Some of George W. Bush's friends say that Bush believes God called him to be president during these times of trial. But God told me that He/She/It had actually chosen Al Gore by making sure that Gore won the popular vote and, God thought, the Electoral College. "THAT WORKED FOR EVERYONE ELSE," God said.
"What about Tilden?" I asked, referring to the 1876 debacle.
"QUIET!" God snapped. God was angry.
God said that after 9/11, George W. Bush squandered a unique moment of national unity. That instead of rallying the country around a program of mutual purpose and sacrifice, Bush cynically used the tragedy to solidify his political power and pursue an agenda that panders to his base and serves the interests of his corporate backers.
North Pitney has built a human-sized maze that changes as you walk through it. Called the Intermap, the maze will be open from September 1-15 in a vacant storefront at a Berkeley strip mall. The Intermap reminds me of that movie The Cube
which, by the way, I think would make a great play. Link Discuss (Via Dorkbot)
Blogger and tech journalist Paul Boutin
called for a Black Rock City version of Hipster Bingo
, and you responded
. BoingBoing reader Lev Johnson
created the Burningman Bingo card, and here it is
to previous BB post, Discuss
Update: Numerous BoingBoing readers have e-mailed to ask why John Perry Barlow's head was selected to represent "A Bad Trip" (shown at left) That is not John Perry Barlow's head. That is Chuck Norris' head.
Beautiful gallery of vintage station-wagon ads.
Tons of people have asked me if I'd do a sequel to Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom
, my first novel. The answer is no. Well, yes and
I don't really write sequels. More than half the point of writing sf is thinking up new worlds, and sequels involve revisiting places I've left behind.
But this is different. A couple years ago, right after I sold the novel, I wrote a short-story set in the same world as the book, but a century or more later. It's a parable about Napster, and it's called Truncat, and today, Salon has published it. And you can read it for free.
First, Adrian got on the subway, opting to go deadhead for a faster load-time. He stepped into the sparkling cryochamber at the Downsview Station, conjured a helmet-mounted display (HUD) against his field of vision, and granted permission to be frozen. The next thing he knew, he was thawing out on the Union Station platform, pressed belly-to-butt with a couple thousand other commuters who'd opted for the same treatment. In India, where this kind of convenience-freezing was even more prevalent, Mohan had observed that the reason their generation was small for their age was that they spent so much of it in cold-sleep, conserving space in transit. Adrian might've been 18, but he figured that he'd spent at least one cumulative year frozen.
Adrian shuffled through the crowd and up the stairs to the steady-temp surface, peeling off the routing sticker that the cryo had stuck to his shoulder. His tummy was still rumbling, so he popped the sticker in his mouth and chewed until it had dissolved, savoring the steaky flavor and the burst of calories. The guy who'd figured out edible routing tags had Whuffie to spare: Adrian's mom knew someone who knew someone who knew him, and she said that he had an entire subaquatic palace to rattle around in.
A clamor of swallowing noises filled his ears, as the crowd subvocalized, carrying on conversations with distant friends. Adrian basked in the warm, simulated sunlight emanating from the dome overhead. He was going outside of the dome in a matter of minutes, and he had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to be plenty cold soon enough. He patted his little rucksack and made sure he had his cowl with him.
Hey, you! Doing something cool involving technology? Propose a talk for the O'Reilly Emerging Tech conference, where geeks show up and show off. Cheapest way to attend ETCON is to propose a talk! Seriously, we've done two of these so far, and number three is coming up February 9-12 in San Diego. The first two were stone brilliant techfests where my mind got utterly blown AT LEAST twice a day. The third's gonna be even better:
Interfaces and Services: Sherlock, Watson, and Dashboard; micro-content viewers and RSS; laptop, palmtop, hiptop, and cellphone interfaces; web services.
Social Software Software: for describing and exploring social connections, FOAF (friend-of-a-friend networks), Flash Mobs, MeetUp, and related applications.
Untethered: WiFi, Bluetooth, and cellular networks; Rendezvous, SMS, and ad hoc networking; Symbian and J2ME mobile development environments.
Location: GPS/GIS technologies and devices, location based services, navigational devices, geospacial annotation tools, and visualization software.
Hardware Hardware: hacks and mobile devices, sensor arrays, RFID tags, TinyOS, and sub-micro computing.
Business Models: Who is putting a stake in the ground and attempting to build the new applications, network, and online culture -- and how are they doing it?
Todd Lappin points us to "pretty amazing photos of in-flight damage to an EasyJet 737 caused by golfball-sized hail a few days ago, after takeoff from Geneva. As they say on all those police reality-TV shows, 'Incredibly, no one was hurt.'"
, fellow hack and blogger, is en route to Black Rock City
like me. He wonders aloud by e-mail: someone should make Burningman Bingo cards a la Hipster Bingo
. So, to you, dear BoingBoing readers, I pose his question today. Tall Naked Dude Wearing Penis Gourd. Unwashed Chick on Ecstasy. Port-a-pottie. Mushroom Shaped Rave Tent. White Guy With El-Wire Woven Into His Dreadlocks. Help me out here, people. Discuss
Two years ago, MIT "open sourced" its course-catalog, putting online the kind of course that most universities charge big bucks for as part of a "distance ed" program. Wired'd got a great piece on who uses MIT-free and why:
Lam Vi Quoc negotiates his scooter through Ho Chi Minh City's relentless stream of pedal traffic and hangs a right down a crowded alley. He climbs the steep wooden stairs of the tiny house he shares with nine family members, passing by his mother, who is stooped on the floor of the second level preparing lunch. He ascends another set of even steeper steps to the third level and settles on a stool at a small desk, pushing aside the rolled-up mat he sleeps on with one of his brothers. To the smell of a chicken roasting on a grill in the alley and the clang of the next-door neighbor's metalworking operation, Lam turns on his Pentium 4 PC, and soon the screen displays Lecture 2 of Laboratory in Software Engineering, a course taught each semester on the campus of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. "Here," he says, pointing at the screen. "This is where I got the idea to use decoupling as a way of integrating two programs."
WashPo has published a really wonderful appreciation of Cheaper By the Dozen, the memoir of the family of Frank Gilbreth, pioneer of time-motion studies and all they begat -- including touch-typing and surgical procedure. The Gilbreths had 12 children, and they constituted a living labroatory for Gilbreth's kooky notions about efficiency.
My memories of "Cheaper by the Dozen" remained happy over the years, but it was with a measure of apprehension that I opened the book recently. The books of one's childhood rarely age well into one's late adulthood, no matter how affectionate (and dim) one's memories may be. Yes, I love C.S. Forester's Horatio Hornblower novels as much now as I did when I was a boy, but those are the rare exceptions; mostly the literary pleasures of childhood and adolescence are best left undisturbed in later years.
So it is a joy to report that "Cheaper by the Dozen" still reads remarkably well. It is not a work of literature and no claims will be made for it as such. It is about American family life at a time (the 1910s and 1920s) now so impossibly distant that today's teenage reader may be unable to connect with it. Yet families are families, then as now, and I like to think that young readers would respond to the Gilbreth family's joys and sorrows just as I and millions of other, older readers have.
The prose in "Cheaper by the Dozen" is unadorned and matter of fact, and its organizational structure is a bit difficult to detect, but what matters most is that it is a touching family portrait that also happens to be very, very funny. Paterfamilias Gilbreth is, to paraphrase the Reader's Digest, one of the most unforgettable characters you'll ever meet. His wife was by any standards a remarkable woman, but in the book her role is mainly that of mother and helpmeet. Yes, at a time when a female college graduate was still something of a rarity, she accumulated a bunch of degrees -- when she and Frank married one newspaper wrote, "Although a graduate of the University of California, the bride is nonetheless an extremely attractive young woman" -- but in these pages the limelight only occasionally falls on her.
Wired News published a piece I wrote on this year's edition of Burning Man, which begins today in the Nevada desert. About 30,000 are expected to attend.
"The important thing about Burning Man is that it is the most experiential phenomenon I can think of," says [Electronic Frontier Foundation co-founder John Perry Barlow, who has been making the yearly pilgrimage since 1997]. "It can't be turned into data in any useful way. You can't informatize it by blogging it, filming it or taking pictures of it, because so much of it can't be translated into information."
Burning Man volunteer Jim Graham isn't fazed when he hears the event derided by some as "Girls Gone Wild" with extra helpings of sand and drugs. "Any time someone makes that kind of generalization, I say 'Yeah! It's exactly like that,' and smile. In the beginning, I came for the spectacle. Now, I come back for the opportunity to interact with so many people who possess such mind-boggling creativity."
Sometimes first-time attendees get a little too mind-boggled. "One crew from Israel last year wanted to do a 24-hour falafel camp," Graham recalls. "I said, 'Guys, maybe you should just do it around dinnertime.' They became such a hit, they were all wiped out by the third day. It's still a temporary city of 30,000 in the middle of nowhere, so there are practical considerations. Bikes get stolen, people get in fights over how loud the trance music is, someone still has to coordinate port-a-potties. But it's like nothing else."
iSpeak It is an OS X app that grabs a text file, performs a text-to-speech operation to turn it into a read-aloud audio file, then converts it to an MP3 and synchs it to your iPod. Pretty cool -- you could use a script to grab a bunch of news from your RSS reader, suck it into iSpeak It, turn it into an MP3, and put it on your iPod to listen to on your morning commute.
(via iPod Hacks
Interesting, but frustratingly brief interview with Neal Stephenson in this month's Wired:
For the most part, Snow Crash turned out to be a failed prediction. People have shown limited interest in immersive 3-D technology, so I think it worked better as a novel than as a prognostication. But it provided a reasonable, coherent picture of a particular kind of entertainment technology. That sort of vision is valuable to engineers. Because of the way institutions work, an engineer ends up working on one part of a system but doesn't get to stand back and see the big picture. When engineering types speak highly of some science fiction writer, usually it's not because that person predicted the future. Rather, it's because he or she put together disparate ideas into a coherent vision that could be used as a road map by the people who are actually deploying such a technology.