This new policy seems to go against the “Don’t be evil” mantra of Google.
reading
On Soccer and Boredom
Why is soccer boring? More particularly, why is soccer boring for most Americans, whereas in other parts of the world it borders on something holy? In this piece in Grantland, Brian Phillips ponders the question. He reveals that yes, soccer is boring (even to the dire fan, who should admit to this fact). But he also explains how soccer is romantic and tragic, and that’s what keeps the fan engaged in the game.
There are two reasons, basically, why soccer lends itself to spectatorial boredom. One is that the game is mercilessly hard to play at a high level. (You know, what with the whole “maneuver a small ball via precisely coordinated spontaneous group movement with 10 other people on a huge field while 11 guys try to knock it away from you, and oh, by the way, you can’t use your arms and hands” element.) The other is that the gameplay almost never stops — it’s a near-continuous flow for 45-plus minutes at a stretch, with only very occasional resets. Combine those two factors and you have a game that’s uniquely adapted for long periods of play where, say, the first team’s winger goes airborne to bring down a goal kick, but he jumps a little too soon, so the ball kind of kachunks off one side of his face, then the second team’s fullback gets control of it, and he sees his attacking midfielder lurking unmarked in the center of the pitch, so he kludges the ball 20 yards upfield, but by the time it gets there the first team’s holding midfielder has already closed him down and gone in for a rough tackle, and while the first team’s attacking midfielder is rolling around on the ground the second team’s right back runs onto the loose ball, only he’s being harassed by two defenders, so he tries to knock it ahead and slip through them, but one of them gets a foot to it, so the ball sproings up in the air … etc., etc., etc. Both teams have carefully worked-out tactical plans that influence everything they’re trying to do. But the gameplay is so relentless that it can’t help but go through these periodic bouts of semi-decomposition.
And this is a wonderful analogy of the relationship between soccer and its fans:
Following soccer is like being in love with someone who’s (a) gorgeous, (b) fascinating, (c) possibly quite evil, and (d) only occasionally aware of your existence. There’s a continuous low-grade suffering that becomes a sort of addiction in its own right. You spend all your time hoping they’ll notice you, and they never do, and that unfulfilled hope feels like your only connection to them. And then one day they look your way, and it’s just, pow. And probably they just want help moving, and maybe they call you Josie instead of Julie, but still. It keeps you going. And as irrational as it sounds, you wouldn’t trade this state of being for a life of quiet contentment with someone else. All you could gain would be peace of mind, and you’d lose that moment when the object of your fixation looked at you and you couldn’t feel your face.
Worth the read in its entirety.
A World of Parking
“The city of Los Angeles wasn’t built around the car. It was built around the parking lot.”
That quote is from this excellent Los Angeles Magazine piece by Dave Gardetta profiling Donald Shoup, a Yale-trained economist, who decided to study parking (and was called nuts for doing so). The essential question he is tackling: What if the free and abundant parking drivers crave is about the worst thing for the life of cities? The focus of the piece is on Los Angeles and its suburbs, and I pull the highlights below.
L.A. has been a wellspring for a parking guru like Shoup to become self-realized. Our downtown contains more parking spaces per acre than any other city in the world and has been adding them at a rate of about 1,000 a year for a century.
Ouch
This year Shoup’s 765-page book, The High Cost of Free Parking, was rereleased to zero acclaim outside of the transportation monthlies, parking blogs, and corridor beyond his office door in UCLA’s School of Public Affairs building.
Great trivia about the invention of the Dual-Parking meter:
Carlton Magee was an editor of the Albuquerque Morning Journalwhen in 1920 he helped uncover what would become the Teapot Dome Scandal. A few years later, in a hotel lobby, a judge whom Magee once accused of corruption walked up and knocked him to the floor. The editor drew his pistol and shot wide, killing a bystander. Acquitted of manslaughter, Magee moved to Oklahoma City to run the Oklahoma News, where parking, not vindictive judges, was the big story. Magee invented the Dual Park-O-Meter, filed for its patent, and on July 16, 1935, 174 parking meters were slotted into Oklahoma City.
The revenue that the city of Los Angeles earns from its parking meters:
Today there are 39,440 parking meters positioned along L.A. streets, each one earning on average about a thousand dollars a year. Some 2,537,521 citations were handed out to motorists by the city’s parking enforcement bureau last year. The most expensive ticket—“Parking hazardous waste carrier in residential area”—is almost never written and costs $378. The most common ticket, for parking on a street cleaning day, will set you back $68. Last year fines to drivers totaled $166,700,840—money that was used to pay for parking operations; surplus revenue is handed over to the city council.
One of the major issues brought up in the piece: in many parts of the country (San Francisco, Boston, Seattle, and D.C. are exceptions), parking rates don’t change based on traffic conditions, day of week, etc. But Los Angeles is ready to change things:
This spring the DOT plans to introduce an $18.5 million smart wireless meter system based on Shoup’s theories. Called ExpressPark, the 6,000-meter array will be installed on downtown streets and lots, along with sensors buried in the pavement of every parking spot to detect the presence of cars and price accordingly, from as little as 50 cents an hour to $6. Street parking, like pork bellies, will be open to market forces.
Why don’t cities like New York and San Francisco have so few parking options? Answer:
San Francisco or New York might have ten times the parking each has now if they had buildings like 1100 Wilshire, where the first 15 floors are all garage. But the downtown areas of those cities won’t allow it.
Who knew parking (and its history) could be so interesting?
On Stolen Bikes
When thieves stole his commuter bike on a busy street in broad daylight, Patrick Symmes decided to do something about it: he wrote this outstanding piece for Outside Magazine.
With the rise of the bicycle age has come a rise in bicycle robbery: FBI statistics claim that 204,000 bicycles were stolen nationwide in 2010, but those are only the documented thefts. Transportation Alternatives, a bicycle advocacy group in New York City, estimates the unreported thefts at four or five times that—more than a million bikes a year. New York alone probably sees more than 100,000 bikes stolen annually. Whether in big biking cities like San Francisco and Portland, Oregon, or in sport-loving suburbs and small towns, theft is “one of the biggest reasons people don’t ride bikes,” Noah Budnick, deputy director of Transportation Alternatives, told me. Although bike commuting has increased by 100 percent in New York City during the past seven years, the lack of secure bike parking was ranked alongside bad drivers and traffic as a primary deterrent to riding more. It’s all about the (stolen) bike; even Lance Armstrong had his custom time-trial Trek nicked from the team van in 2009 after a race in California. Not every bike is that precious, but according to figures from the FBI and the National Bike Registry, the value of stolen bikes is as much as $350 million a year.
I suppose the “business” of bike theft has its merits because:
Bikes are portable and easily converted to cash, and they usually vanish without a trace—in some places, only 5 percent are even reported stolen. Stealing one is routinely treated as a misdemeanor, even though, in the age of electronic derailleurs and $5,000 coffee-shop rides, many bike thefts easily surpass the fiscal definition of felony, which varies by state but is typically under the thousand-dollar mark. Yet police departments are reluctant to pull officers from robberies or murder investigations to hunt bike thieves. Even when they do, DAs rarely prosecute the thieves the police bring in.
Symmes also mentions that bikes may be sold far from where they were stolen:
In Miami in the 1980s, police found six freighters in the harbor holding hundreds of stolen bicycles, possibly headed for Haiti. Many bicycles stolen in Oregon crop up in San Francisco, evidence of an export network. In California, the Border Patrol has repeatedly caught pickup trucks entering Mexico that had been stuffed with high-end bikes stolen in Santa Cruz; drug dealers there take payment in valuable bikes, which they resell to the Mexican elite.
A very interesting read in which we come to understand that on America’s rough streets, bicycles are a form of currency as liquid as cash and drugs.
Becker’s Bridal: A Magic Store Uniting Brides
Before “bridezilla” became part of the English lexicon, there existed Becker’s Bridal — a magic store that united a generation of brides. Jeffrey Zaslow writes in The Wall Street Journal:
Since 1934, more than 100,000 girlies and sweethearts have come to Becker’s to find their wedding gowns, and in their journeys there, they formed a kind of sisterhood. All of them are linked not just to the eras in which they got married, but also to each other and to the wedding culture today.
Brides and bridal gowns have always offered a measure of our longings and aspirations. Just 51% of American adults are now married—a record low—according to a report issued last month by the Pew Research Center. Pew also reports that 39% of Americans believe marriage is “becoming obsolete.” And yet, in the story of this old bridal shop in a rural, one-stoplight town, it’s easy to see why, despite everything, wedding gowns remain a symbol of hope.
For 78 years, Becker’s Bridal on Fowler’s tired Main Street has been run by an unbroken family chain—a great-grandmother, grandmother, mother and daughter. Thanks to the Beckers, Fowler claims to have more wedding dresses per capita than any U.S. municipality; there are 1,100 residents and 2,500 bridal gowns stocked at the store.
And some fascinating statistics about the bridal dress business:
Department stores had 85% of the wedding-gown business nationwide in the 1950s, but Becker’s stayed afloat through word-of-mouth in small Michigan towns. In the 1960s, thousands of mom-and-pop bridal shops opened up in suburban strip malls. Because Becker’s had established itself so long ago, its customers remained loyal. The next big challenge came in the 1990s, when the David’s Bridal chain began growing, selling gowns starting at $99. As a result of this and other pressures, the number of U.S. bridal shops fell from a peak of about 8,000 in 1990 to less than 5,000, according to the Bridal Association of America. Becker’s held on. Last year, Becker’s sold 1,650 dresses. The store has $1.8 million in annual sales, with 85% of that revenue needed to cover merchandise and salaries.
The saddest part in the piece was the part about the “Dress Cemetery.”
Solving the Sudoku Minimum Number of Clues Problem
Three mathematicians — Gary McGuire, Bastian Tugemann, and Gilles Civario — spent a year working on a sudoku puzzle. Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that. The essential question they sought to answer: what is the minimum number of clues one must be provided to solve a sudoku puzzle? Turns out that one must see 17 clues (out of a total of 81 squares on a sudoku board) to solve the puzzle uniquely. From their paper, here is the abstract:
We apply our new hitting set enumeration algorithm to solve the sudoku minimum number of clues problem, which is the following question: What is the smallest number of clues (givens) that a sudoku puzzle may have? It was conjectured that the answer is 17. We have performed an exhaustive search for a 16-clue sudoku puzzle, and we did not find one, thereby proving that the answer is indeed 17. This article describes our method and the actual search
If you aren’t familiar with sudoku…the puzzle solver is presented with a 9×9 grid, some of whose cells already contain a digit between 1 and 9. The puzzle solver must complete the grid by filling in the remaining cells such that each row, each column, and each 3×3 box contains all digits between 1 and 9 exactly once. It is always understood that any proper (valid) sudoku puzzle must have only one completion. In other words, there is only one solution, only one correct answer.
And hence the interest in the minimum number of clues problem: What is the smallest number of clues that can possibly be given such that a sudoku puzzle still has only one solution?
There are exactly 6,670,903,752,021,072,936,960 possible solutions to Sudoku (about 6.7 * 10^21) . That’s far more than can be checked in a reasonable period of time. But due to various symmetry arguments (also known as equivalency transformations), many grids are identical, which reduces the numbers of grids to be checked to 5,472,730,538.
I am always on the lookout of mathematicians doing fun things, so if I find any papers on solving other types of games or puzzles, I will post the results here.
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(via Technology Review)
Is Internet Access a Basic Human Right?
Vinton Cerf, a fellow at the Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers and vice president and chief Internet evangelist for Google, begins this op-ed by expounding on the importance of the Internet, but concludes that Internet access is not a human right:
It is no surprise, then, that the protests have raised questions about whether Internet access is or should be a civil or human right. The issue is particularly acute in countries whose governments clamped down on Internet access in an attempt to quell the protesters. In June, citing the uprisings in the Middle East and North Africa, a report by the United Nations’ special rapporteur went so far as to declare that the Internet had “become an indispensable tool for realizing a range of human rights.” Over the past few years, courts and parliaments in countries like France and Estonia have pronounced Internet access a human right.
But that argument, however well meaning, misses a larger point: technology is an enabler of rights, not a right itself. There is a high bar for something to be considered a human right. Loosely put, it must be among the things we as humans need in order to lead healthy, meaningful lives, like freedom from torture or freedom of conscience. It is a mistake to place any particular technology in this exalted category, since over time we will end up valuing the wrong things. For example, at one time if you didn’t have a horse it was hard to make a living. But the important right in that case was the right to make a living, not the right to a horse. Today, if I were granted a right to have a horse, I’m not sure where I would put it.
The best way to characterize human rights is to identify the outcomes that we are trying to ensure. These include critical freedoms like freedom of speech and freedom of access to information — and those are not necessarily bound to any particular technology at any particular time. Indeed, even the United Nations report, which was widely hailed as declaring Internet access a human right, acknowledged that the Internet was valuable as a means to an end, not as an end in itself.
By similar logic, Cerf explains that Internet access is just a tool for obtaining something else more important, and shouldn’t be considered a civil right either (though the case for Internet as a civil right is stronger than that of a human right, he concedes).
Cerf’s argument is in opposition to United Nations, which released a report in June of 2011, citing Internet as a basic human right.
Christopher Hitchens on Charles Dickens
Published today is Christopher Hitchens’s last piece for Vanity Fair, in which he writes about Charles Dickens (whose 200th would-be birthday will be on February 7, 2012) and the celebration of childhood.
I was surprised to learn from this piece that perhaps Fyodor Dostoyevsky met Charles Dickens:
And then, in late 2002, The Dickensiancarried a little bombshell of a tale: it seemed that in 1862, during Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s visit to London, he had met Dickens. And not only met him but elicited from him the exact admission that we would all have wanted the great man to make. Here is how it goes in English, as summarized by Dostoyevsky in an 1878 letter to a certain Stepan Dimitriyevich Yanovsky. According to this, the two men met at the offices of Dickens’s own personal magazine, All the Year Round.
And here is Hitchens’ take on the supposed encounter:
So it was sweet while it lasted, the rumor of a meeting between two great literary titans: an encounter that one of them didn’t even find interesting enough to put in a letter. It could have happened, but I doubt it. That’s the wonderful thing about the celebration of Charles Dickens: he truly is ranked among our immortals, and it truly doesn’t matter if the legend should sprout and then drop a Dostoyevsky or two.
Hitchens wished to empart one of Dickens’ core beliefs:
It is all there to emphasize the one central and polar and critical point that Dickens wishes to enjoin on us all: whatever you do—hang on to your childhood! He was true to this in his fashion, both in ways that delight me and in ways that do not. He loved the idea of a birthday celebration, being lavish about it, reminding people that they were once unborn and are now launched. This is bighearted, and we might all do a bit more of it. It would help me to forgive, perhaps just a little, the man who helped generate the Hallmark birthday industry and who, with some of his less imposing and more moistly sentimental prose scenes inA Christmas Carol, took the Greatest Birthday Ever Told and helped make it into the near Ramadan of protracted obligatory celebration now darkening our Decembers.
There is also another lesson that we can learn from Dickens, writes Hitchens: atoning for ones mistakes. But you’ll have to read the piece to find out what he says about that.
The Many Faces of Stephen Colbert
If you’re a fan of Comedy Central’s The Colbert Report and its mastermind host, Stephen Colbert, you have to read this Charles McGrath piece in The New York Times. Over the six years of the show’s existence, Stephen’s popularity has exploded:
There is a Ben & Jerry’s ice cream flavor named after Colbert (Colbert’s Americone Dream) and a NASA exercise device (the Combined Operational Load Bearing External Resistance Elliptical Trainer, or Colbert) and a minor-league hockey team mascot (Steagle Colbeagle the Eagle) in Saginaw, Michigan…
In the piece, we learn about the creation of the “new Colbert” and Stephen’s efforts to create a super-PAC:
The new Colbert has crossed the line that separates a TV stunt from reality and a parody from what is being parodied. In June, after petitioning the Federal Election Commission, he started his own super PAC — a real one, with real money. He has run TV ads, endorsed (sort of) the presidential candidacy of Buddy Roemer, the former governor of Louisiana, and almost succeeded in hijacking and renaming the Republican primary in South Carolina. “Basically, the F.E.C. gave me the license to create a killer robot,” Colbert said to me in October, and there are times now when the robot seems to be running the television show instead of the other way around.
On Colbert’s most awkward (but perhaps also his most defining) moment:
…Was his appearance at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner in 2006. Mark Smith, an A.P. reporter who, as head of the correspondents’ association, was responsible for booking the talent, admitted later that he wasn’t all that familiar with the show, which was only three months old when he approached Colbert. Neither, to judge from video of the event, were many in the audience. Colbert got up and addressed the president, saying: “I stand by this man because he stands for things. Not only for things. He stands on things. Things like aircraft carriers and rubble and recently flooded city squares. And that sends a powerful message: that no matter what happens to America, she will always rebound — with the most powerfully staged photo-ops in the world.”
Stephen Colbert’s father died when Stephen was 10, and he muses on his experience growing up. Turns out, Colbert began pronouncing his name as “coal-Bare” when he was in high school:
By high school he had become dreamy and nerdy, spending all his time reading science fiction and playing Dungeons and Dragons, and his friends were all the same way. “Socially, we were out in the hinterlands,” he said. “Living in the social mud huts.” But during junior year he happened to say something that made people laugh, and pretty soon he had become the school wit. It was around that time that he started Frenchifying his name. “I was probably still Colbert to a lot of people,” he said, pronouncing the T, the way the rest of his family did. “But in my mind I was coal-BARE.”
On the popularity of the show:
Colbert likes to say that the whole show is a “scene,” a term that in improv-speak means not just a unit of dramatic time but a transaction in which one character wants something from another. The other character in this instance is us, the audience, and what Colbert wants from us is love. The one moment on “The Colbert Report” that is not fake is when he sits at his desk and basks while the audience chants, “Ste-phen, Ste-phen, Ste-phen!” He can’t get enough.
I like the author’s comparison to James Thurber’s famous short story, “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” (a must-read, if you’ve never read it):
The show also enables a Walter Mitty side of Colbert, which is why he says he will never get tired of it. “As executive producer of this show, I get to ask my character to do whatever I want,” he said. Among other things, the character has so far visited troops in Baghdad; bottled and branded his own sperm; dueled light sabers with George Lucas; sung with Barry Manilow; sung as a trio with Willie Nelson and Richard Holbrooke; appeared on the Jimmy Fallon show, along with Taylor Hicks and the Abominable Snowman, in a big production of the hit song “Friday”; harmonized on the national anthem with Toby Keith; and danced a passage from “The Nutcracker,” in suit jacket, tights and codpiece, with David Hallberg.
There are so many money quotes in the piece that you just have to read the whole thing.
Ansel Adams and Group f/64
On November 15, 1932, at the M. H. de Young Memorial Museum in San Francisco, eleven photographers announced themselves as Group f/64: Ansel Adams, Imogen Cunningham, John Paul Edwards, Preston Holder, Consuelo Kanaga, Alma Lavenson, Sonya Noskowiak, Henry Swift, Willard Van Dyke, Brett Weston, and Edward Weston.
The name f/64 derives from the smallest aperture available in large-format view cameras at the time, and it signaled the group’s belief that photographs should celebrate, rather than disguise, the medium’s capacity to present the world “as it is.” As Edward Weston phrased it, “The camera should be used for a recording of life, for rendering the very substance and quintessence of the thing itself, whether it be polished steel or palpitating flesh.”
The group’s effort to present the camera’s “vision” as clearly as possible included advocating the use of aperture f/64 in order to achieve the greatest depth of field possible, thus allowing for the entire scene photographed to be sharp and in focus (by comparison, modern day lenses for SLR cameras usually taper off at f/22 or f/32 aperture).
Following is the manifesto of Group f/64:
The name of this Group is derived from a diaphragm number of the photographic lens. It signifies to a large extent the qualities of clearness and definition of the photographic image which is an important element in the work of members of this Group.
The chief object of the Group is to present in frequent shows what it considers the best contemporary photography of the West; in addition to the showing of the work of its members, it will include prints from other photographers who evidence tendencies in their work similar to that of the Group.
Group f/64 is not pretending to cover the entire of photography or to indicate through its selection of members any deprecating opinion of the photographers who are not included in its shows. There are great number of serious workers in photography whose style and technique does not relate to the metier of the Group.
Group f/64 limits its members and invitational names to those workers who are striving to define photography as an art form by simple and direct presentation through purely photographic methods. The Group will show no work at any time that does not conform to its standards of pure photography. Pure photography is defined as possessing no qualities of technique, composition or idea, derivative of any other art form. The production of the “Pictorialist,” on the other hand, indicates a devotion to principles of art which are directly related to painting and the graphic arts.
The members of Group f/64 believe that photography, as an art form, must develop along lines defined by the actualities and limitations of the photographic medium, and must always remain independent of ideological conventions of art and aesthetics that are reminiscent of a period and culture antedating the growth of the medium itself.
As far as the how the group acquired its name, the story isn’t 100% clear. Per Wikipedia:
There is some difference of opinion about how the group was named. Van Dyke recalled that he first suggested the name “US 256”, which was then the commonly-used Uniform System designation for a very small aperture stop on a camera lens. According to Van Dyke, Adams thought the name would be confusing to the public, and Adams suggested “f/64”, which was a corresponding aperture setting for the focal system that was gaining popularity. However, in an interview in 1975 Holder recalled that he and Van Dyke thought up the name during a ferry ride from Oakland to San Francisco.
The history of the group is fascinating. And while we may agree that Ansel Adam’s photograph has withstood the test of time as some of the best landscape photography the world has ever seen, the group’s definition of pure photography as defined by “possessing no qualities of technique, composition or idea, derivative of any other art form” would face opposition from many modern-day photographers. That’s because the process of choosing aperture, composition, ISO, and so on may considered an artistic process. If I choose to shoot a long exposure of a waterfall in the daytime, have I misrepresented reality? If your eyes can’t envision a blurring of water but the camera can, am I deceiver the viewer? While there are technical points that one must understand as a photographer, the actual application of the technical process process is unique.
Books I Read 