"In the book of my memory, after the first pages, which are almost blank,
there is a section headed Incipit vita nova."
On Wednesday and Thursday, I read Dante's La Vita Nuova, which
I'd long been curious about. It's very interesting that Dante feels compelled
to explain his own poetry, even in a very formulaic way. ("There are four
parts in this sonnet. In the first, I...")
There are definitely some interesting parts in the Vita Nuova.
It's good to get the inside story on Dante's love for Beatrice -- something
commentators on the Divina Commedia always write footnotes
about, something my father has often mentioned, but never something I read
a primary source about.
After the vision which I had described, when I had composed the
rhymes which Love had commanded me, a number of conflicting thoughts
began to contend and strive one with the other, all of them, it seemed,
unanswerably. Among them were four which seemed most to disturb my
peace of mind. One was this: "The domination of Love is a good thing
because he guides the mind of his faithful follower away from all
unworthiness." Another thought was this: "The domination of Love is not
good because the more faithfully a follower serves him, the more
burdensome and grievous are the moments he must endure"; yet another thought
was as follows: "The name of Love is so sweet to hear that it seems
impossible that it can be anything but sweet in its effect upon most
things, for it is known that names are a consequence of the things which
are named, as it is written, Nomina sunt consequentia rerum"; the
fourth thought was this: "The Lady for whom Love holds you so enthralled
is not like other women whose hearts are easily moved." Every one of these
thoughts so contended within me that I became like a person who does not
know which road to take on his journey, who wants to set out but does not
know where to start.
(Dante Alighieri, La Vita Nuova, XIII (trans. Barbara Reynolds))
Dante's self-condemnation on account of his love for the "compassionate lady"
who appears after the death of Beatrice is remarkable. Dante was a very
serious man and really felt things deeply; I think this is something that
leads people to compare him with Vergil, whom he put into his own poetry
later on as a character or as an inspiration.
People are remarkably divided in their views of Dante's love for Beatrice.
La Vita Nuova records that (as has become legendary) he saw
her when they were both nine years old -- we could presume before puberty,
when they were both children -- and he fell in love and remained deeply
in love with her for the rest of his life, although they barely spoke.
(Dante remembers being greeted once by Beatrice some years later, and
wishes at length that she would greet him again. So they did actually say
hello to each other, at least once.) But Dante had a series of visions
which convinced him of the validity of his inclination that Beatrice was
unique and special and that he ought to love her for his whole life.
("And some in dreams assured were...") And when he did waver from this
commitment (after Beatrice was dead!), he couldn't live with himself:
Your levity I contemplate with dread [...]
While life endures you should not ever be
Inconstant to your lady who is dead.
(id., XXXVII)
and again: "often I grew angry in my heart and reviled myself greatly [a]nd
often too I cursed the vanity of my eyes [...] 'for never, this side of
death, ought your tears to have ceased!'". Finally "my heart began to
repent sorrowfully of the desire by which it had so basefully allowed itself
to be possessed for some days against the constancy of reason; and when this
evil desire had been expelled all my thoughts returned once more to their
most gracious Beatrice".
So you can see how Dante's view really polarizes people; few people reading
this are neutral in their assessment of Dante's behavior. (It's interesting
that I say "behavior", because Dante barely did anything observable in
the entire book, except visit another city, get sick, cry, and write poems.
He's very concerned with his inner life, which continues in parallel to
and separate from what people can see about him. It's of consequence to
him whether his feelings are noble or base, whether his thoughts are
reasonable or unreasonable -- whether inside himself he is virtuous or
vicious. Certainly Dante, as a Christian, kept in mind the admonition of
the Gospels about looking at women the wrong way, as opposed to the Jewish
emphasis on good deeds, what Christians ended up calling "works". In
La Vita Nuova, Dante's only works are his poems, and he never
does anything that most people today could call "real". This is a source
of continuing controversy. Dante's concerns make lots of sense to me;
I can relate.)
By the way, there is a company called
Vita Nuova which sells support
for the Bell Labs
Inferno operating
system.
I always associated the title of La Vita Nuova with
Christian apocalyptics -- "Ecce nova facio omnia", which I remember
acutely from a love story of my own, and the New Jerusalem and the
New Heaven and New Earth, and then of course in the Symbolum Nicenum where it
says "et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi
saeculi, amen". So the phrase has this really strong eschatological
significance for me, which really affects how I would read a book called
La Vita Nuova -- but the notes in my edition say, to my
surprise, that "[t]he literal English translation, 'The New Life', has
religious overtones which are probably not in the original". Hmmmmm.
On a very different note, on Tuesday I saw Crouching Tiger, Hidden
Dragon with Zack and two ladies whom I presume are gracious. It's
definitely a beautiful movie, and I agree with the praise for the fighting
scenes, especially in the forest.
Crouching Tiger is interesting for addressing ancient mythical
Chinese sexism: Jade Fox becomes evil because the founder of the Wudan
school rejects her as a student and sees her only as a sexual partner (we
could probably even say "sexual object"). And
Jade Fox's student in turn rejects Wudan for its continuing sexism and
begins to turn toward evil. There is the sense that Wudan is to blame for
all this: if Wudan's founder had been willing to teach Jade Fox as an
equal with his male students, the policeman's daughter would not have ended
up as an orphan.
A lot of artistic works have been addressing sexism in somewhat cliched ways.
The classic example for me is actually a Dar Williams song, "The Babysitter's
Here":
And will they get married with kids of their own? He says
"Not if she's going to college we won't,"
And he kisses her, oh... some day I'll have a boyfriend just like that...
(Emphasis in original.) The young girl's misunderstanding of her babysitter's
life
She says, "Do me a favor, don't go with a guy who would make you choose,"
And I don't understand, and she tries to explain
And all that mascara runs down in her pain
Cause she's leaving me...
(emphasis added) is tragic, but I think the presentation is a bit heavy-handed.
Every single time I hear that song, I find it really jarring: it's the core
and key to the song, but the little girl narrator has no idea of that. This
is a traditional literary device, which Dar Williams wields powerfully, but
what's being revealed this way is somehow too much for me.
Another sexism plot showed up at the beginning of Carl Sagan's
Contact, which I read recently. The daughter wants to be a
scientist. Her father encourages her and then dies tragically. Her
(wicked) stepfather thinks women shouldn't be scientists. She keeps on
studying
science and nature against his wishes. So she becomes endearing, appealing,
interesting; her stepfather rapidly becomes the bad guy, ignorant, even
cruel. This is all laid out in just a few pages, but we can so quickly
identify with the young woman in her enthusiasm and independence (we know
that this is a character who will not care about convention, who will find
her own path).
When I read the beginning of Contact, though, I felt
manipulated, as though Sagan had picked out an unreasonably extreme
situation just to polarize the beginning of the story and draw us in. But
the problem is that I actually know of a young woman in real life who wants
to be a scientist and whose parents are actively discouraging her because
they believe women shouldn't be scientists. So "this is real, this is
something that happens", and Sagan isn't just making it up.
I had lunch with Art Tyde, one of the founders of Linuxcare, on Wednesday
at an Indian restaurant on Folsom (it's actually under the same management
as the Tandoori Mahal on Kearny, where I always used to go for lunch
buffet -- and they have exactly the same menu, including the lunch buffet)
by 8th or 9th.
One of the things we talked about was the effect of business involvement
in the Linux community. I reminded Art that this had been a subject of
really active controversy in 1998 -- "is business good for Linux?" -- and
that there had been all sorts of different views. The most prescient, I
think, was the view that "business involvement won't hurt the Linux
community as a whole, but personal relationships will suffer". I don't
remember whose idea that was, but I'm sad to say that it seems to have
been true. I've lost no friends, as far as I know, through business and
the "Linux industry", but many of my friends have lost friends that way,
sometimes very close friends.
I really do miss the casual and enthusiastic local Linux community from
1998, but I'm glad that I'm still in touch with so many people despite
all the turbulent events since then.
I did work for Linuxcare at home. In very classical teacher style,
I actually graded a bunch of written multiple choice tests.
I also got my beard cut.
Doesn't it make sense to use the <H1> and <H2> tags here
instead of <BIG> and <STRONG>? I got into the habit of
using <STRONG> for section headings on Advogato.
My arms really hurt, from moving a filing cabinet last weekend and then
typing during the week.
I noticed that
RyanMuldoon on
Advogato was a co-founder of the ARHS
network, with Gabe Ricard, whom I met and corresponded with a bit when
I visited ARHS in 1999. It's
quite likely that I actually met Ryan, too. Their advisor in this
undertaking was Peggy Westcott, who was my computer teacher in
elementary school at the Smith College Campus School. (She taught Logo
to 4th through 6th graders, including the really exciting LegoLogo unit
in 6th grade, to which I looked forward for years and about which I once
had a very dramatic dream. It was a dark and stormy night and a few of
us, students all, took shelter at Peggy's house, where she let us do
experiments with LegoLogo. I think I had that dream in 5th grade, and I
wish I could remember who the other students in the dream were, because
I have a guess.)
Peggy was a computer teacher at ARHS (one of the best public
high schools in Massachusetts) after that, and she had a group of really
motivated students who set up a network with a Linux box and did
technology projects. I am very much reminded of
GEECS, and it seems
to me that every high school should have a project somehow along these
lines, if students are interested.
After work, in Jamba Juice, I heard the song "Closer to Fine" by the
Indigo Girls on the radio, but I think it was more like
"closer to crying" for me, because it made me want to cry.
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountain
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There's more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine
I guess I've done all of those things lately except for drinking from the
fountain. The Indigo Girls continue:
I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
so when I walked out of Jamba Juice, closer to crying, I thought "Everybody's
looking for salvation" but also that I was unlikely to ever have a Ph.D or
a beard to my knee -- where other times I seemed to be on track for both of
those things.
Well, I remembered the bit from Thornton Wilder's The Bridge
of San Luis Rey:
Some say that we shall never know and that to the gods we are
like the flies that the boys kill on a summer day, and some say, on
the contrary, that the very sparrows do not lose a feather that has
not been brushed away by the finger of God.
I liked this because I always associated ignorance with cruelty and knowledge
or certainty with kindness.
But the Indigo Girls associate ignorance and uncertainty with health,
which would certainly have been anathema to me once. (I suppose there are
other ways of reading that Wilder quotation, like associating polytheism
with cruelty and monotheism with kindness.)
If we take the straightforward interpretation of the list of activities
in "Closer to Fine" as metaphorical for all the things that people attempt
or look to in order to find meaning, health, happiness, or wisdom, then I
think it's easy for anyone to sympathize with the story in that song. Sure,
the list there is pretty "New Agey", for the most part. (It does mention
the Bible later on, and a "revival", presumably mixing some Christianity
together with mountains and fountains in the catalogue of salvationist
technique.) But the message of the song is "I did x, y, and z, and nothing
worked" (but now the person to whom the song is addressed has allowed the
singer to feel more comfortable with ignorance and thereby "closer to fine").
Well!
Isn't it just a little strange for a bottle of isopropyl alcohol to have a
safety seal on it, saying "Sealed for your protection"? Isopropyl
alcohol doesn't exactly go bad, and you're not supposed to drink it, as
it's already a poison. Yes, there are ways of tampering with it that
could make it dangerous to people, but it's not exactly a bottle of pills
or something.
mike dillon (I'm conflicted about whether to capitalize the names of
people who don't capitalize their own, like bell hooks and e. e.
cummings; it involves a judgment about whether or not capitalization
is part of orthography so that somebody can say "You are misspelling my
name!" if you use a capital in a standard place where that person
doesn't) is preparing
an edition
of Ferrer's The Origins and Ideals of the Modern School.
I had dinner with Zack and worked a bit on getting this diary set up.
zork is still down, but this is hosted on homer, so this is
available even though my home page is not.
My arms felt marginally better in the morning, but that didn't last too
long. zork has come back up.
I had a dream last night that I lost a tooth; I definitely hope that
doesn't happen in real life. At a few points in my life, I haven't
taken good care of my teeth. There are consequences to that.
I'm thinking about various possibilities for interface for this diary.
One is to have month pages (2001-03.html) with concatenated day pages
together, separated by horizontal rules. Another is to take the
output of cal, like
March 2001
Su Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa
1 2 3
4 5 6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16 17
18 19 20 21 22 23 24
25 26 27 28 29 30 31
and generate links to entries for days where entries exist. Another is
to have "next" and "previous" links. I'm just not sure what to do.
I've been hearing a lot (from five different sources!) lately about solar
activity and likely storms on Earth. I'm told I might even be able to
see the aurora down here in San Francisco this evening, and then that the
power grid may be even more unstable. And my cell phone may not work.
Good thing I don't have a cell phone!
With my right arm in lots of pain in the afternoon, I read E. L.
Doctorow's City of God.
This is one of the best books I've read in years, but also one of the most
painful, maybe more so than The Last of the Just -- solid
competition, anyway.
Reading a book was good for my arms. So, in many ways, was talking on the
phone. I had a great conversation with my father and managed to catch up
with some friends.
I made it back into Daylight Saving Time all in one piece.
I did look out on my porch to try to catch sight of the aurora. No
aurora, just lots of wind and fog and the moon.
I listened to Mahler's Kindertotenlieder, which I hadn't
listened to for a year or two. I first encountered this work in a music
class at Berkeley, and I went out and bought a copy, and I even
transcribed the words once and put them up on the net on a machine which
has since crashed twice over.
(Not the free software kind.) The streets between here and the 24th Street
BART station are fairly covered with evangelical Christian literature, some
in Spanish, some in English, including Jack
Chick cartoons. I saw a notice about how there was going to be a
"campaign" in honor of Holy Week, so probably I'm just seeing some of the
advance publicity work.
The Mission and the South of Market are really different in visible ways,
like what kinds of things typically happen in public. In the South of Market,
I've never seen anyone engaged in any kind of religious proselytizing or
debate (or a house of worship, except the church across from the Metreon).
In the Mission, religion and religious evangelism are relatively large,
active forces. (Biella, approximately: "There's a reason it's called the
Mission District...")
The Chronicle or the Examiner (am I the only
person who still can't tell them apart readily?) had a strange juxtaposition
pretty recently. At the bottom of one page was an article which proclaimed
that, "for the first time", whites were not a majority in the state of
California. At the top of the same page was an article about a research
result that the San Francisco Bay is the saltiest that it's been "in 400
years".
This is a little bizarre, I thought. Clearly, the top article is admitting
that California history does extend at least 400 years (OK, it wasn't a state
then...), because there was this San Francisco Bay here then and it had a
certain salinity and that salinity 400 years ago is a part of California
history. And it's interesting! All this time all of these other things
were happening, and you know, San Francisco Bay kept on having a
salinity! The Bay continued having various amounts of salt in it all that
while, and there's this amazing sense of continuity over four centuries of
San Francisco Bay saline history. But the bottom article is saying that
California history is much shorter, really, because this year is "the
first time" that whites haven't been a majority of the people in
California. But 400 years ago, whites weren't a majority in California.
I'm sure that the Associated Press would say that they just meant "since
California has been a U.S. state" and that of course whites haven't always
been a majority in California, the place. This still raises a question,
though: why are racial demographics only interesting since California
became part of the U.S., but environmental factors, geophysical factors,
are interesting before that too?
... was April Fool's Day.
There are a pretty good assortment of hoaxes on-line, although I don't
think I've been fooled by anything yet.
In other news, Zack and I went to CompUSA and I got a new sound card,
which I set up (after compiling Linux 2.2.19, which was remarkably easy).
It's a SoundBlaster 16 PCI -- the cheapest common 16-bit PCI sound card with
line in and line out. It uses the es1371 module; Creative Labs bought
Ensoniq...
Oh, I got to try Mac OS X in CompUSA. It's very pretty, and I managed to
find the shell (the default shell is tcsh!) without too much
difficulty, and run ls, ps, df, and all -- on a Mac, running MacOS. So I
can see how a lot of people will like this and will want to switch. And I
do have a Mac that I'd be running MacOS 8.5 on if the hard drive hadn't
crashed... but I do want to stay focused on free operating systems, not
just Unix in its manifold glory.
I bought the sound card because I wanted 16-bit line in so that I could
record a CD of myself singing. No, you can't have a copy (unless perhaps
you are Wolfgang), but I'll probably publish the recording of
"If I Were
in Rescomp". It's turning out that there's a Jewish theme because the
two other things my original plan calls for me to sing are "Eli, Eli"
and "Shir Hamaalot". I really think that's just a co-incidence, though.
A side effect of having the sound card is that I can play WAVs from my
little collection of ripped CDs. (I ripped some of my own CDs so that I
could have them in digital form. I don't habitually trade illegal copies
of music, even though I agree that the impulse to do that is very natural,
but I think having access to music in an unencrypted digital form is
very important. People reading my diary will probably already be aware
that I think that.) So I can actually give a simple command like
cd /mnt/bigger
echo So/*.wav | xargs -n1 play
and I immediately get a CD-quality rendition of Peter Gabriel's
So. But of course I can script things so that tracks play
in a particular order or in response to a particular event.
If we give up control over digital media, we will be limited to the
applications the people who control it can think of, minus those they
think it's not in their business interest to permit, minus again
those they think they can extract extra payments for.
I had a great time with Biella, who came by for dinner. We had a
wide-ranging conversation, although supposedly we were talking about
"Patent Scope and Innovation in the Software Industry" by Cohen and
Lemley.
Patents are an absolutely vast risk for the free software community.
Aux armes! Fortunately, there are some more encouraging things
going on in the world than just software patents.
I'm sorry that I still have secrets from my diary readers, that I can't
remark on every single interesting or amusing thing that happens. I
remember at dinner how something happened that I thought was funny, but
it was already secret there; quo magis here. So if you read this,
imagine some funny and interesting things happening that I don't mention.
Thanks.
Actually, not only do I not generally trade illegal copies of music,
but I even accidentally buy multiple copies of the same CD! For example,
I have two store-bought legal copies of The End of the Summer by
Dar Williams, two of The Green World (eadem), and two of a
particular recording of Bach's Mass in B minor. So I'm even
sometimes buying CDs where legally I wouldn't even be obliged to.
That said, if you want my duplicate copy of any of those, let me know!
Just over four years ago, Alan Hale
said:
How many more of these types of reports are we going to
have to listen to before we finally decide that we are going to use
the candle of science, and the reasoning skills that we have, to take
back the darkness from the ignorance and superstition that is
enveloping us?
I hate to sound like I'm saying "I told you so," but I'd like to
read the last paragraph of the explanation I posted to the Web after
this business of the Saturn-like object broke out last fall. I remind
you that this is dated November 16, 1996. After explaining that the
"object" was nothing more than a bright star, I wrote: "There are many
`fringe' people who are trying to attach apocalyptic significance to
Comet Hale-Bopp, and incidents like this one . . . are sure to
increase as we get closer to the comet's perihelion. I ask readers to
treat all these irresponsible reports with the disdain they deserve,
and instead enjoy the beauty of the comet for its own sake."
I really meant that last sentence. What I want everyone to do -- and
I mean everyone who is here today, and everyone who is seeing my image
and listening to my voice -- is, tonight, to drop what you're doing,
forget about the world for a minute, go outside, look up in the
northwest, and take a look at this comet. It's a beautiful object.
It's lovely. It's one of the most magnificent celestial objects you
will ever see. But for all its beauty, its magnificence, its splendor,
all it is is a dirty snowball that's orbiting the sun. Nothing more.
It has no influence on Earthly events. It has no power to affect
anything that happens here on Earth. It has no power, but we
do. We
have the power to build a world for the 3rd Millennium that is free of
the ignorance and superstition that is so rampant in our society
today. We have that power. What I'd like you to do when you're looking
at the comet tonight is to think of some ways to make that happen. I'd
like to hear what you come up with.
I'm sure Dr. Hale would still appreciate your comments.
My machine pie was broken into by the Ramen worm, which is the first time
an automated computer program has ever compromised my system. Alas, I
hadn't applied the BIND update I was supposed to, because the Debian
dist-upgrade didn't work for me and I got lazy about patching it by hand.
So no human had the patience to discover my negligence, but a computer
program did.
I think in the future some worms will be much nastier and more virulent.
I think we'll see viruses and worms as the pre-eminent source of security
threats. I mean, if a machine can beat the world chess champion, surely
machines will be better than people ultimately at breaking into other
machines. (There will be cases where judgment and background knowledge
is important, but many attacks can be automated.)
By the way, I was literally months behind in applying the security patches
in question. I saw them the day they came out, and I didn't do anything.
So mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
I'm moving everything over to this machine homer, which Trey runs in
Berkeley. I'm just waiting for some things to go through with Network
Solutions. They tend to do an incredibly bad job with a lot of things
they used to do well, so that it's become boring to complain about them.
I'm contributing a list of "non-kitten items" to the
robotfindskitten project.
The sound quality on my new sound card was fine for playback but awful
for recording. But now I've got a program called rawrec which lets me
make raw samples at any sample quality. So I can explicitly record at
16-bit 44.1 kHz stereo; with the input gain turned down a bit, it
finally sounds very good.
If Zack gets sound working on his machine, we could have a little intercom
over the local LAN.
Surprising things caught on MiniDisc: myself crying in January. I recorded
myself singing a couple of songs and then I recorded myself bursting into
tears after one of them. I think I'm going to erase those tracks, not burn
them to CD-R.
I wrote a long piece in response to
ishamael's
complaint on Advogato about police enforcing laws against victimless
crimes. But I haven't finished it or posted it anywhere.
Zack wonders (along with a political science professor I met about two
years ago) whether there aren't duties to the self (in the sense of whether
people have moral obligations to themselves or can be acting immorally
in their treatment of themselves). The political science professor
suggested that submitting to coercion might be wrong even if
the coercion itself is wrong -- because we should not permit ourselves
to be so abused if we can find an alternative. (The song says, by way
of example, "You gotta keep the faith, you gotta keep the faith, you
better keep the faith and run away. It's time to break free, oh oh oh oh,
run away...") In libertarian thought,
this would be a very foreign concept, although not as foreign as the idea
that somebody else could legitimately help enforce these duties (maybe by
forcing someone not to use drugs or something).
I remembered the good old days of arguing with Kevin Sabet on the
opinion page of the Daily Cal. I would write a piece to
the effect of
Let's first get out of the way the myth that drugs are
not harmful. They are, at least potentially. They are very dangerous
and using them is typically a poor choice and a great risk. Now,
everyone has a fundamental liberty interest in doing whatever he or
she wants with his or her own body. Governments and the societies they
claim to represent have no right to legislate over what people do to
themselves; when they try to create restrictions like this, they are
overstepping what legitimate authority they might have. If you try to
force someone not to use drugs just because they are risky, you are
infringing on that person's rights.
I would really take pains to emphasize that I thought that drugs were
really bad and recreational drug use was a really big problem. (In
that sense I think I came close to suggesting that I thought that there
were duties to the self -- because most of my published criticisms
of drugs were based on what they do to their users. But I argued at
length that there is no right on the part of anyone else to enforce
those duties, if they exist.)
So Kevin Sabet would always write in and respond to my letter, except
what he would say was always along the lines of "But drugs are really
dangerous, and really harmful". And it was really bizzare, because I
took such pains to agree to that and to support his contention that
drug abuse was a real problem and was really upsetting. But his
responses always seemed to be limited to citing statistics about
health risks from various drugs or correlations between drug use and
poor academic performance or the likelihood that people would become
addicted to something.
And (as often, as very often, alas) we were really talking at cross
purposes, because we weren't contradicting each other (although I did
think that Sabet overstepped in his categorical denials that
marijuana had legitimate medical uses; however much medical marijuana
in California may be used as a cover for recreational drug use, it
seems that there is no reason to dismiss the potential benefits of a
drug when that drug is surrounded by a recreational-use tradition).
But Sabet would conclude that because drugs were so dangerous, it was
vitally important that society act forcefully to suppress the
depredations... and I would conclude that there is no right to compel
individuals against their will and the government should get its laws
off of everyone's bodies, as the emotionally tinged slogan runs.
It was frustrating to argue with Kevin Sabet. Our perspectives were
apparently so different that we couldn't even disagree with each other
effectively.
(That happened with affirmative action too, although not with Kevin
Sabet in particular. It took me a long time to notice that the most
fundamental disagreements were not even about affirmative action, but
about what a university is for. Some people thoughts of
public universities as instruments of public policy or social welfare.
So therefore if a government had a socially useful policy, it could
implement it through a university. Other people were just horrified
that politics could get involved in a university at all and thought
that universities should have a remarkable detachment and independence
and promote knowledge in general rather than specific social goals.
And then it just so happened that governments sponsored universities,
because universities are good and it's difficult to get people to
found enough of them, but the governments should not expect anything
back from the universities, but should leave them alone to be
universities. I mean, if people are intermittently horrified that
religious universities compromise their independence by trying to
promote religious beliefs, why should they not be horrified when
government universities compromise their independence by trying to
promote government economic policies? Do I overstate the point?
I've barely gotten started here exploring the depths of the disagreement
on this issue! People who argue about affirmative action in public
universities have virtually no common ground and they
completely misunderstand each other or talk, again, at cross purposes
because of their different starting point.)
What is a university for? In precisely the same vein, what is
a romantic relationship for? When we've solved those, we can
take on Wendell Berry's question, because founding universities and
creating romantic relationships are prototypical human activities.
(I remember talking to Biella about Don Marti's complaint that
universities were becoming fancy tax shelters for startups and for
proprietary corporate research. Too simple,
she said. Universities are more complicated and multifarious than that.
So there would be an element of this sort of thing, but we would have
to look at the whole picture and see what all different kinds of people
were up to in the context of a university.
But if we believe, as some people do, that things have a particular
essential purpose -- which is one of the oldest academic traditions in
the world! -- then it's worth asking what universities are really
supposed to be about. And you'll find that people have absolutely no
consensus about that. The people who are there don't agree on what
they're there for and the people who pay for it don't agree on why they
pay for it and the people who examine and criticize the universities
don't agree on what the universities were supposed to be doing in the
first place.)
My arms feel messed up and I feel very tired -- I think the latter is
either due to not getting enough sleep or to not eating regularly
enough. All of these things are somewhat longstanding problems --
should I say "chronic"? -- but it doesn't mean that I always do anything
about them.
I'm trying to do or locate some paperwork to re-open a claim and go to
see a chiropractor downtown. I saw her last year but didn't go back;
she's been very helpful to many of my friends who had various degrees
of repetitive strain injuries. I don't think any of their cases were
as bad as mine, but still this chiropractor is well-regarded and maybe
she can help me.
I'm going to CalLUG tonight.
I'm working with Andrew in person at Linuxcare today to produce a new
BBC, which Mike will give out at the upcoming SCLUG
LUG Fest event. Then we will burn
some more BBCs to send to LUGs that request them, and we'll do a new
revision to give out at LWCE in San Francisco in August.
Andrew is typing for this BBC revision -- I'm not.
At work, I happened to hear the song "Total Eclipse of the Heart", which
my friend Eric used to play in high school and which I hadn't heard in
some years. I think I'd better get a recording of it.
Here are my submissions to the robotfindskitten project:
"A book with \"Don't Panic\" in large friendly letters across the cover.",
"A compendium of haiku about metals.",
"A discredited cosmology, relic of a bygone era.",
"A hollow voice says \"Plugh\".",
"A knight who says \"Either I am an insane knave, or you will find kitten.\"",
"A neural net -- maybe it's trying to recognize kitten.",
"A screwdriver.",
"A statue of a girl holding a goose like the one in Gottingen, Germany.",
"A tetradrachm dated \"42 B.C.\"",
"A voice booms out \"Onward, kitten soldiers...\"",
"An eminently forgettable zahir.",
"Apparently, it's Edmund Burke.",
"For a moment, you feel something in your hands, but it disappears!",
"Here is a book about Robert Kennedy.",
"Hey, robot, leave those lists alone.",
"Ho hum. Another synthetic a posteriori.",
"It's Asimov's Laws of Robotics. You feel a strange affinity for them.",
"It's Bach's Mass in B-minor!",
"It's a bug.",
"It's a synthetic a priori truth! Immanuel would be so pleased!",
"It's the Tiki Room.",
"Just some old play by a Czech playwright, and you can't read Czech.",
"Kitten is the letter 'Q'. Oh, wait, maybe not.",
"Quidquid Latine dictum sit, kitten non est.",
"Sutro Tower is visible at some distance through the fog.",
"The Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998.",
"The United States Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit.",
"The non-kitten item like this but with \"false\" and \"true\" switched is true.",
"The non-kitten item like this but with \"true\" and \"false\" switched is false.",
"This is the chapter called \"A Map of the Cat?\" from Feynman's autobiography.",
"This is the forest primeval.",
"Werner's \"Pocket Field Guide to Things That Are Not Kitten\".",
"You found nettik, but that's backwards.",
"You have found some zinc, but you must not stop here, for you must find kitten.",
"\"50 Years Among the Non-Kitten Items\", by Ann Droyd.",
"\"A robot may not injure a kitten, or, through inaction, ...\"",
"\"Address Allocation for Private Internets\" by Yakov Rekhter et al.",
"\"Mail Routing and the Domain System\" by Craig Partridge.",
"\"The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism\" by Emmanuel Goldstein.",
"\"201 Kitten Verbs, Fully Conjugated\". You look for \"find\".",
I saw various people in Berkeley, including Sumana and Ben. It's nice over
there. ASUC election season is in full
swing.
The Cheese Board collective and their pizza shop are really good (on
Shattuck by Vine).
I have an ear ache.
I read To an Unknown God: Religious Freedom on Trial, by
Garrett Epps.
It's the story of Employment Division v. Smith, the case about
whether Native Americans had a legal right under the First Amendment to use
peyote in religious ceremonies. The Supreme Court's answer was "no"; I
think the issue is remarkably subtle and important, and it brings into focus
or digs up a lot of other interesting topics.
Epps doesn't talk in much detail about the history of the Religious Freedom
Restoration Act, which was passed (and overturned) after Smith
was decided. He gives it a few pages but barely mentions why the
Supreme Court decided to throw it out in City of Boerne v. Flores
(the famous "art gallery owned by an atheist" argument).
I think somebody should open an art gallery called Art Gallery Owned By An
Atheist, but I don't think many people would get the joke.
I was particularly interested in RFRA because it was used as a basis for the
only recent successful court challenge to the California loyalty oath, in
Bessard v. California Community Colleges. But
Bessard was almost immediately overruled by City of
Boerne. As I've written elsewhere, I had mixed feelings about this,
because I thought that Smith and Boerne were
correctly decided, but I thought that the laws to which religious
objections were asserted in Smith (drug prohibition),
Bessard (loyalty oath for public employees), and
Boerne (zoning ordinance) were all unjust!
Bessard actually came close to eliminating the loyalty oath entirely,
because under other precedents, someone who claimed a religious objection
would likely not have been required to provide much more detail. On the
other hand, we have United States v. Seeger (where the
Supreme Court said that atheists could be conscientious objectors to the
draft) -- so the logic of Bessard together with
Seeger could almost have created a plausible argument
that nobody could be forced to sign the oath!
Except...
Except that that's a complete end-run around the purpose of the RFRA, which
was to create special privileges or exemptions based on religious
beliefs and not simply based on sincere beliefs. And because the
RFRA (under which Bessard was decided) really did set out to
create that special status for religious beliefs, it was invalided by the
Supreme Court.
(I think I'm overstating what Seeger held too -- it's a long
time since I read that opinion, and when I glance at it, it looks much
narrower than I'm making it out to be.)
I wrote a lot on patents to Biella. I really disagreed with Professor
Lemley's piece on "rational ignorance" and his critiques of patent reform
proposals.
I bookmarked this when I read that book a few days ago, meaning to quote
it here:
Yet science teaches us something about song: Scientific formulas describe
the laws by which the universe operates and suggest in equations that
a balance is possible even if things are in apparent imbalance. So do
songs. Songs are compensatory. When a singer asks, Why did you do
this to me, why did you break my heart . . . the inhering formula is
that the degree of betrayal is equivalent to the eloquence of the cry
of pain. [...] And when a song is good, a standard, we recognize it as
expressing a truth. Like a formula, it can apply to everyone, not just
the singer.
This passage actually has relatively little to do with the rest of the
book, although it does suggest a connection between a couple of themes
which do show up repeatedly.
The mozilla not party (kind of like the
mozilla dot party except,
you know, not) was at Zeitgeist today. I had a great time! I saw a
bunch of people I know and got to talk to Jack Moffit about Vorbis for
a while.
My right arm got a bit sore again, but I got documentation about being
discharged from treatment last fall, and we're sending that off to the
insurance company.
I'm trying without any success to break a encrypted message which is a
very short message in English in some kind of cipher like a substitution
cipher which can be worked by hand. But no luck. I think I have some
evidence that it's not a simple substitution cipher: there is a word
which has a pattern of letters like AABCCDE. It doesn't seem to me that
there is any English word which has that pattern, so I think the cipher
is more complicated than simple substitution.
How do people go about breaking ciphers given only the ciphertext? Bruce
Schneier is always telling us that we should assume that the
cryptosystem is known and only the key is unknown; here I don't actually
happen to know the cryptosystem, but I still want to break it.
I suspect this might be a Vignere cipher -- I do know that it's a cipher
that has a short English "password" or key. The Vignere cipher is one of
the most obvious possibilities beyond simple substitution in that case.
I know that the Vignere cipher is supposed to be readily broken, but I
don't have a whole lot of ciphertext and I don't even member the standard
technique for breaking it.
I did generate Vignere encryptions and decryptions of the ciphertext,
plus slight variations, for every word in /usr/dict/words. So now I
have this file of about 300,000 possible decryptions, and I don't know
a good way to search for a possibly valid decryption.
Somewhere or other there is a research project with a good statistical
test for the presence of English text. One approach is to figure out
(somehow) the probability that a certain text could have been generated
by a Markov chain model for English text. If the probability that the
text could have been generated by the model is high, then perhaps the
probability is also high that the text is English.
How did John Gilmore's DES cracker recognize that it had decrypted its
text when it did?
It's incredibly windy here. (And cold.)
And I felt you slippin' away
And I felt myself slippin' from you
And I wanted more than anything else
For it to rain for one whole day like it used to
(Dan Bern, "Wasteland")
... were it not that I have bad dreams.
(Hamlet, II, 2)
I saw Mr. Bad for the second time in two days and again had lots of fun.
This time it was
BayFF,
where Chuck D (the musician) spoke about on-line
music. Mr. Bad, Biella, Mike and I sat together, heard Chuck D say
various extremely funny and in some cases extremely provocative things,
and then went off to the BAD meeting (no relation to Mr. Bad except that
he is a Bay Area Debian developer) where
I saw Joey, Justin, and Ian Jackson (special guest) as well as some people I
didn't know. Then we went to dinner.
I got Ian Jackson's business card, so I could conceivably sign his PGP key
now.
One interesting thing at the BayFF meeting was that somebody mistook me for
Seth Finkelstein and congratulated me on
winning
an EFF Pioneer Award. So I said I wasn't sethf but that I would
accept the congratulations and forward them along, which I will.
There was actually an e-mail thread about how people at BayFF thought I was
Seth Finkelstein. I guess the confusion was for real.
The rain didn't seem to damage my filing cabinet, which is still outside.
Salomon
saith, There is no new thing upon the earth. So
that as Plato
had an
imagination, That all
knowledge was but remembrance; so Salomon
giveth his sentence, That all novelty is but oblivion.
(Francis Bacon, "Of Vicissitude of Things"; quoted by Borges)
I walked up to Sutro Tower and back in the afternoon. It's really big!
I remembered writing a poem in college about an antenna; it was a sad poem
and I wish I still had a copy. (It might be on that hard drive over there,
if I could recover it.)
Sutro Tower is always bigger than you think, or always further away than
it looks. It's the tallest structure in San Francisco, and visible from
more places than any other -- for example, you can see it at any time of
day from my bedroom window, and probably from tens of thousands of other
bedroom windows in the City.
I brought back a stick, like a walking stick, from a dead branch of a tree
that grows right by Sutro Tower, perhaps in its shadow. The branch is
unusually lightweight, like bamboo or balsa wood -- closer in appearance to
bamboo.
The composition of this diary entry was interrupted by a blackout on my
block which lasted for at least several hours (the power came back on after
I went to bed). I was told that a transformer exploded somewhere nearby.
Our UPSes lasted for an hour or so, but after that, no more Internet access,
no more computer use, no more electric lights. "It was like another century",
but not really.
I tried writing a letter by candlelight, which was an unusual experience,
but I guess the only real benefit was that I got to write truthfully that I
was writing that letter by candlelight. I suppose I could do that any time
I want, since I have candles (I no longer
live in
the Berkeley dorms). But I wouldn't usually think of it; if it happens,
it probably happens by accident.
The Moon is Full
and today is Palm Sunday. I wonder if
Berkeley SANE deliberately
invited Richard Dawkins to speak during Holy Week (and Passover).
Zack and I did laundry and went to CostCo. On the way back, we stopped by the
new EFF office, which is still under construction down the street on Shotwell.
I fixed a DNS outage; if you couldn't resolve vitanuova.loyalty.org recently,
it was due to my error. I'm still trying to get DNS over to homer properly.
It's really a pain to deal with Network Solutions.
I had a dream that I was involved in a huge project to build an Inform
model of the South of Market and the Mission, to be used in a very
sophisticated adventure game. One thing that made the dream more exciting
was that I was inside the model the whole time, although it was
clear that what I was seeing was somehow generated by Inform, and I could
converse with other people about the progress of the model ("This is
so-and-so's apartment -- in the next version we're going to add a door over
here and a daemon that shows changes in the apartment over time"), which
was actually kind of like David Gelernter's Mirror Worlds,
although I didn't think of that at the time.
My virtual South of Market is a very exciting and dramatic place!
It's great that there are people who critique pop songs by reference to
ancient philosophers.
I'm going to the Richard Dawkins lecture at Berkeley tonight (VLSB, 8:30p).
I may try to get my copy of The Selfish Gene autographed.
Some years ago, I made a t-shirt that says "Life results from the non-random
survival of randomly varying replicators. -- Richard Dawkins"; if it still
fit me and if it looked decent, I'd wear it to the talk. But I can't even
find it, which is yet another problem. (That was what Richard Dawkins said
was the "t-shirt slogan" version of his work.)
On Crackmonkey, I wrote that the intricacy of ancient Greek verb structure
led to many British prep school students learning things like the
present subjunctive first-person middle dual of "luo", no doubt so
that, if two of them were ever captured by extremely ancient Greeks,
they could sing a duet in which they discuss with their captors the
possibility that they might ransom themselves.
This led indirectly to the relevation that Mr. Bad (who else?) is the holder
of eleutheria.org.
The lecture by Richard Dawkins was very amusing; Dawkins got in any number
of cheap shots against organized religion, but several of his points were
really compelling. He actually re-iterated with a picture his old point
about religion running in families and the assumption that children of four
know their religious beliefs (or can be assumed to share their parents'
religious beliefs).
The use of fundamentalist tracts in his slides produced a lot of comedy (he
was even the target of one cartoon he reproduced), but I don't think he was
arguing against his strongest opponents. If all you knew of religion was
what appeared in that presentation, you would certainly think it was
absolutely ludicrous, but there are some more intelligent presentations of
religious ideas out there.
In some places, Dawkins was quite moving, especially when he quoted from
the late Carl Sagan.
The audience was mostly non-religious; the best question by someone who seemed
to disagree with Dawkins seemed to me to be based on an argument due to
Phillip
Johnson (who conceivably could have been somewhere in the audience) -- whether
scientists view naturalism as a prescientific commitment (or as part of
science) or whether they find naturalism to be an empirical conclusion from
their research.
Dawkins didn't quite understand the question; I did, I think, only because I
read Johnson's books which advised people to ask pro-evolution scientists
a question just like that. For example, Johnson's Defeating
Darwinism by Opening Minds invites audiences to ask
one simple question:
What should we do if empirical evidence and materialist philosophy are
going in different directions?
I think that's what this audience member was asking -- did you come to
naturalism empirically, or do you believe that the world has to be like
that? And this is a seriously valid question and the answer Dawkins
gave was very capable even though he didn't quite understand it.
Dawkins said that there are likely things other than matter and energy
as we understand them but that our understanding will improve
in time and there's no particular reason that we shouldn't understand
the nature of the other things we discover in the future which we don't
understand now. (Perhaps he had dark matter in mind, for instance.)
And this is certainly what I generally thought in the past: if there
were a "supernatural" realm, it wouldn't even be supernatural because
it would have laws by which it operated and those laws could be
investigated and learned and then, what do you know, the supernatural
realm is actually just a particular corner of the natural realm which
hadn't been discovered or studied before!
(One argument in support of this idea is the discovery of things like
radio, which would have been considered supernatural if they had been
observed or demonstrated a long time ago. Near-instantaneous
communication around the world through the air? That's like
divination, or telepathy! But with Maxwell's equations we understood
radio pretty well for a while, up until Einstein.)
On the other hand, proponents of the supernatural may argue that we are
unfairly defining the supernatural out of existence by asserting that
everything that exists operates through, well, natural laws. So one
claim would be that there are things which aren't subject to any laws
(some theology would say the will of God, and some people say that
supernatural magic works for supernatural reasons not described by any
intelligible natural law), and another claim would be that supernatural
laws exist but are of a totally different character than natural laws
(for example, that they can't be defined through or reduced to
mathematical formulae showing definite relations of entities).
Dawkins complains that actual theistic proponents of supernatural
explanations aren't really giving an explanation (a slightly subtler
formulation of the "God of the gaps" argument). For example, he says,
the Christian God is much more complex than a human, so saying
that God created humans fails to "explain" how something as complex as
a human exists, because it raises the new and even more difficult
question of how something as complex as God exists. Ignotum per
ignotiora. (Dawkins seems to be suggesting that it is more
plausible that humans have always existed than that God has always
existed, because humans are much simpler. I should read Lovejoy's
The Great Chain of Being.)
And I think that Dawkins has an extremely strong point there, and it
was a new one to me. Still, if a true supernatural is not logically
contradictory, it could exist, right? And that could be the way things
really are. But Dawkins would probably exist that there is no
credible evidence for it and no reason to believe it -- and "science
can't explain X" is not one. (He mentioned "directed panspermia",
the theory where life on Earth was seeded by intelligent aliens, as
more likely than creation by God, in that the aliens are more likely
to exist or require less explanation or less departure from things we
already know about.)
On Monday, I saw the car with the California license plate FNORD parked
by the 4th and King Caltrain station. That was amusing.
Andrew and I worked on the BBC for a long time Tuesday, and finished up the
1.6.0 release version. It's a good feeling to get a BBC done!
We fixed a lot of things. But I know of at least one bug left.
Hail, brave Knight! You completed your divine Task[...]! Yet it seems you
left a great Riddle behind.
(Leonard Richardson, Degeneracy)
Like a work of fiction, the value of a sophisticated work of software is not
in the simple plot idea, but in the complex telling of the tale. It is only
those unfamiliar with the strong feelings, beliefs and preferences which
exist among writers of software regarding alternative expressions of the
same software ideas who could believe that differences in expression of
the "same" idea are unimportant to those who write software, or to those
who use software written by others.
Imagine if, for 17 years, only one author was allowed to write about the
plot line "boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy regains girl". Or that once
some consortium of artists has invented rock and roll or string quartets
(and produced an initial "reduction to practice"), no one else could write
music in those styles for 17 years without their permission. Or that once
the first mathematician has invented a technique for dividing numbers, all
other mathematicians must for 17 years request permission before
inventing their own techniques, for fear of accidentally reinventing or
coming too close to reinventing what another mathematician has also
thought about. In each of these cases, imagine the arrogance of someone
claiming a right to bring before a court of law and convict of a civil crime
all others who choose to think for themselves and write independently.
(Phil Salin, "Freedom of Speech in Software", 1991)
Everybody please go read
Salin's letter
and
John Gilmore's speech
with the same title.
Jim Bell was
convicted
of interstate stalking and the European Copyright
Directive was
adopted (this is the "European DMCA" which could lead to DeCSS
being banned in EU countries, among other things).
Legislation needs a better reason than that lawyers like it, and that America does
it.
I had a very encouraging dream about nanotechnology. It was basically
about being in a space colony which looked like Smith College on the outside
and like Trader Joe's on the inside. There were various buildings, each
run by a benevolent Emperor who had a certain color associated with him (like
ancient China?) --
the building I was in was the domain of the Purple Emperor, who gave people
all kinds of food and technology and explained various technical things to
me. Because nanotechnology had been so far developed, everyone's physical
needs were met, but there were still very interesting challenges remaining
(which I don't remember).
The people who lived in the building run by the Purple Emperor slept in the
aisles of what looked like a supermarket (Trader Joe's, as I said), and then
the Purple Emperor periodically used nanotechnology to provide them with
things they needed.
The Emperor told me that most people there didn't understand the technology
involved, which was a disappointment to me.
My high school teacher's son has died while a college freshman. A healthy
19-year-old, he suffered heart failure as he slept. He died
as I was leaving the Dawkins lecture on Monday. I can't
make it to the memorial service because it's Easter weekend and almost
all airline flights are already booked.
I wrote a Latin free verse poem called "In obitum filii magistri mei,
apice iuventutis". It is very depressing; maybe it's good that it's in
Latin so that few people will ever be depressed by it.
I tested the BBC extensively on my home machine and was pretty impressed,
although I found three serious bugs. I think we've made a lot of
progress. I'm still playing with it.
I think that free software in general is losing momentum and reaching a
momentary peak in market share or mind share. I associate this with the
lack of business success of most large and prominent Linux and free
software. It's upsetting to me; I remember that a few years ago, we may
have had a touch of the "historical inevitability" disease which is one of
my least favorite characteristics in an ideological movement. Like "Linux
will definitely take over the computing world because it's better in every
way, and people just have to see this...".
But a large portion of the people who are also a part of the computing world
don't share our values. I'm really torn between the point of view that says
"So let them suffer" (or perhaps "Shall I at least set my lands in order?"
or "As for me and my house, we will worship the Lord") and the point of view
that says "I will not enter nirvana before all sentient beings do so" (or
perhaps "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations"). Interestingly, the
more conventional views "Find out what those people want and figure out how to
give it to them" and "Different strokes for different folks" don't even seem
to enter the picture for me.
I'm reminded of the relativist view that different peoples (a euphemism for
"countries") should have different political systems. And that kind
of diversity, I always thought, we don't need.
It's interesting to talk with people who have a less moralistic outlook on
things.
Anyway, I noted about a year ago that finally lots of people are trying Linux
and not deciding to keep using it, whereas back when I got started
in the Linux world in 1995, almost everyone who tried Linux
immediately switched over or at least kept on using it regularly. So the
people who tried it back then, I've realized, were people who were really
disposed to like it, people who were on the lookout for something more or
less just like Linux, in search of a better way and a movement to which
they could hitch themselves. ("That far within our faith we were all
waiting"! Dar Williams.)
So when we saw Linux, it was "Yes I said Yes I will Yes".
And we thought that if other people would just try Linux, they
would also immediately recognize what they had been missing. (That was
actually what I personally thought about a lot of issues until I was in
college; I thought that truth and beauty were much more obvious and more
accessible than they are.) But the problem is that there's been so much
hype about Linux, for various reasons, that people got spurious
expectations that had no connection with the technical reality. So a lot
more people with different ideas and backgrounds were moved to try Linux,
and many of them actually said they didn't like it! Quite the shock for
Linux advocates, that someone might have tried Linux and disapproved.
But these people had (for the most part) different values and expectations
in the experience of computing. Many of them were content or at least
numb in the proprietary Windows world, and weren't hoping for any of the
particular technical virtues which pertain to the free software world.
But it's tragic, because there was a big miscommunication about Linux,
where Linux geeks said that Linux was the be-all and end-all of the
operating system world at the moment (I recognize that Linux can benefit
from new technology, but we could say, as they say in Hemingway, that it
was "less bad"; remember what Michael Elkins says about mutt). And we
said this because that was actually our experience.
But if people have totally different ideas about what they're up to or
about what's virtuous and vicious, it's not completely shocking that they
would not see why we said that Linux was so great; certainly Linux is
very different, which wasn't emphasized enough in its full generality.
Sometimes I've thought that I didn't want to convince people to like
Linux: I wanted to make them be people who would like Linux.
From that point of view, when Linux and the general public's values in
computing don't get along, then typically or more often the public's values
-- not Linux -- need to be amended. (And here I'm speaking only of things
that were deliberate decisions, not of things that happen not to have been
implemented...) I guess that qualifies as an elitist point of view, but
it's not so far from what people say on dvd-discuss: "We have to get
the public to see the importance of the public domain", "We have
to get the public to see the problems with copyright extensions
and anticircumvention legislation". Not "the public doesn't care"; not
"the public won't care"; not "the public will believe that the public
domain is not important". But "the public domain is important, and we
will explain that to the public, and they will see it". Or "Linux is
good, and the public will see that".
A rather wise comment in opposition to several of the ideas above:
I think that it's extraordinarily important that we in computer science
keep fun in computing. When it started out, it was an awful lot of fun.
Of course, the paying customers got shafted every now and then, and
after a while we began to take their complaints seriously. We began to
feel as if we really were responsible for the successful, error-free
perfect use of these machines. I don't think we are. I think we're
responsible for stretching them, setting them off in new directions, and
keeping fun in the house. I hope the field of computer science never
loses its sense of fun. Above all, I hope we don't become
missionaries. Don't feel as if you're Bible salemen. The world has
too many of those already. What you know about computing other people
will learn. Don't feel as if the key to successful computing is only
in your hands. What's in your hands, I think and hope, is intelligence:
the ability to see the machine as more than when you were first led up to
it, that you can make it more.
(Alan J. Perlis, quoted in Abelson and Sussman, Structure and
Interpretation of Computer Programs)
Someone I mentioned in my Advogato diary last year found my diary and
wrote me a paper letter to thank me for endorsing his product.
A very exciting thing happened which I can't discuss here. But I think I
got two more points on the Hacker Test.
I bought a copy of Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart", which I
mentioned here recently, on CD.
I wish I were a better poet. I'm a decent prose essayist and a decent
programmer, but it seems to me that poetry is what really changes people's
lives; I wish I could write a poem that had a real effect.
I had a good time trying out
Vorbis on Thursday. I recommend it
all the time, so I thought I should actually find out how well it works.
I thought it worked well. I don't have a lot of experience with MP3s to
compare it, but it sounds pretty good. I tried to compress a few CD
tracks (remember: when CDs are all encrypted "to prevent piracy", you
can't even try these experiments for yourself!) and I could hear the loss
of quality, but they still sounded acceptible to me.
The compression I saw at default bitrates is better than 10:1, which is
pretty cool.
The proximate cause of my trying out Vorbis was writing to Dave Farber
about how it's good, in response to an instantly-infamous Wall
Street Journal piece recently in which he was quoted. The piece
reports that Microsoft is trying to get rid of MP3. Why? You guessed
it: because MP3 doesn't include copy protection! ("You" who guessed it
are anyone who reads dvd-discuss or goes to BayFF or knows Don Marti.)
The article was actually incredibly depressing, because all of these
companies blatantly stated that they were going to put their own business
interests ahead of consumers' interests and try to seize control of the
market and such. I think more people should read the Wall Street
Journal (and that's not the only reason). Dave Farber was quoted
to the effect that consumers would mostly not know better and would use
the software that they were given (although he wasn't happy about that).
So all of these representatives of various companies said that the whole
problem with MP3 was that the format was too open!
My view, of course, is that MP3 is not open enough, and we need to
get rid of MP3 as quickly as possible -- but we need to replace it with
something like Vorbis, not with something like WMA! Replacing MP3 with
WMA wouldn't be a step backwards, it would be a 100-yard dash backwards,
tripping over one's own feet in the process.
Mr. Bad writes:
- Esperantistaj Maldesktrulaj Vegetaranaj Linuksamantoj (EMoVoLo)
(Unuan Sabaton Chiu Avrile, 12:00 atm, Tandoori Mahal, 941 Kearny,
SF.) Ni kunvenas chiujare por Esperantlingvaj diskutoj, precipe koncerne
maldekstruloj kiu amas Linukson kaj ne manghas la viandon. Chiuj
estas bonvenaj, chu barbhava chu ne.
That's the funniest thing I've read all day! (But I thought it was a
Linuksamantaro.) For "Maldesktrulaj", read "Maldekstrulaj".
If Leonard Richardson is going to
link to my diary saying that I've provided a "summary of the Richard
Dawkins speech", I guess I actually ought to provide one.
But I think it's a bit late for that. I've forgotten a lot already.
Dawkins said that there were five ways of knowing things: Evidence,
Tradition, Authority, [personal] Revelation, and Faith. He said that
science only uses Evidence, while organized religions use the other four
and don't care much for Evidence.
Dawkins has dealt elsewhere with some religions' claim that Faith is
good, but he didn't address it directly in this talk (except
along the lines of "why do you have faith in X instead of Y?", kind of
like the old standby Invisible Pink Unicorn argument). (It is interesting
to note that some atheists purport to believe in invisible pink unicorns
and some in invisible purple unicorns. I wonder whether this schism
will have tragic consequences for the atheist worldview.) Some argument
in support of religious faith is given by arch-rationalist and skeptic
Martin Gardner (a self-proclaimed philosophical theist!) in some of his
books; I guess The Whys of a Philosophical Scrivener and
The Night is Large would cover it, but you'd probably also
want to read The Flight of Peter Fromm.
There are some traditionally religious people who believe that Evidence
does support their religious beliefs. This is actually an abiding
division in Christianity, where a huge proportion of believers suspect
that they can't prove their religion empirically (although I've heard
some people say that this is because the proof isn't there, and some
that this is because the proof is there but evil prevents
unbelievers from accepting it). Judaism and Islam have strong
rationalist apologetics traditions which I think are mainstream,
but I'm not sure. (One source of apologetic evidence is the "unparalleled"
item or event -- in Judaism, the unparalled character of the national
revelation at Sinai, and, for some, the unparalled accuracy of the Torah.
In recent times a few groups have added unparalled statistical anomalies
in the text of the Torah. In Islam, the unparalled literary character
of the Koran. In Christianity, the unparalled nature of the reported
statements of Jesus -- the "trilemma" argument -- and of the broad public
consensus on the truth of the miracles attributed to him.)
Phillip Johnson is one of the leading advocates in the American Protestant
world of the view that Evidence does support his religious beliefs.
But that view is common to a number of authors who share his publisher,
InterVarsity Press. The word "Evidence"
even shows up in the title of one of the best-selling apologetic works being
given out in vast quantities to American college students -- Evidence
That Demands a Verdict by Josh McDowell. (Postscript: I mistakenly
thought that IVP also published Evidence; it was actually
published by Here's Life Press.)
Nobody seems to endorse Tradition and Authority, although Dawkins
associated them strongly with religions, and quoted some statements like
an ex cathedra papal teaching on the Assumption of Mary.
There are definitely people who endorse Revelation, in the sense of belief
informed by personal religious experience which is not shared as Evidence
with others. Dawkins suggested (I think) that Revelations might be
unreliable (as they seem to contradict one another) and that in any case
they didn't count as Evidence.
The audience repeatedly burst out laughing at some of the parodies Dawkins
put together showing scientists behaving in some of the ways he
attributed to religions -- for example, a mock journal issue on extinctions
where scientists reported that they had faith in or had experienced
revelations in support of or had been raised to believe the theory that
a comet killed the dinosaurs. He showed a scientist issuing a fatwa
condemning to death a rival; he showed a world map and reported on the
scientific wars that had broken out between countries where scientists
believed contrasting doctrines. He showed a preacher telling an audience
that "The Origin of Species is the inspired Word of the
Prophet Darwin (peace be upon him); every word of it is true!".
Dawkins thought that American scientists who disagreed with religious
belief were generally afraid to speak out and were under social
pressure to say that science and religion were not incompatible. He
criticized Gould's Rocks of Ages, with its "non-overlapping
magisteria", on two grounds: first, he said that religions do routinely
make factual claims which scientists should consider false on the basis
of evidence. He said that it is definitely the place of scientists to
dispute these claims, just as they could dispute any other claims about
events in the natural world. (He quoted various lists of miracles which
the Roman Catholic Church teaches as fact and argued that scientists
could definitely disagree.) Second, he doesn't think that science can
give any insight into the "magisterium" of morality and values, but he
doesn't think that revealed religion can either -- so while he accepts
that science can't teach us about right and wrong, he would dispute
that Christianity can.
Dawkins also took issue with the claim that religious doctrines about
historical events are "symbolic" (and so immune from criticism as
historically false). First, he said that these doctrines used to be
believed as fact and that only scientific progress has made that
belief less tenable. Next, he suggested that the idea that something
formerly considered real and then disproved should live on as "symbolic"
was silly. He gave the example of a scientist in the future responding
to hypothetical news that the theory of the double helix structure of
DNA was mistaken: "Well, it's true that DNA isn't really a
double helix, but look at the wonderful symbolism in this picture, what
it shows us about human Love!"
Additionally, Dawkins said that many religious leaders would claim that
their doctrines were symbolic "in front of sophisticated audiences
like this one" and then tell their (unsophisticated?) religious communities
that the doctrines were actually literally true after all. So he accused
these leaders of being disingenuous and wanting to have it both ways --
shielding their beliefs from hostile criticism, yet maintaining them
firmly among friends.
I've already mentioned the "religion runs in families" argument, so I
won't repeat it. But Dawkins showed a slide arguing that, once a
particular religious belief is started, it continues to be passed down
by tradition and is generally not questioned or examined. By contrast,
he said, scientific beliefs are held in conflict and fight against each
other on the basis of evidence, so that mistakes are detected and science
makes progress.
This isn't true for everyone, though! There are lots of religious converts.
Jack Chick converted to his Protestant views from Catholicism and retains
great animosity toward Catholic belief and practice. But I think Dawkins
is saying that religious conversion doesn't happen as often as it would if
people really routinely seriously questioned the religious beliefs they
acquired as children. Also, religious belief doesn't appear to make the
same kind of progress that scientific belief does (in the sense of
detecting and refuting errors and finding a consensus based on public
evidence). But maybe that is a matter of perspective; maybe religious
belief is making progress and it's just the people with mistaken beliefs
who don't see this. Still, the process seems very chaotic; it's at least
the case that the mills of God grind slow.
I did say there were some "cheap shots", and I think that's the case; in
particular, some parodies directed at one religious group raised
laughter directed at all religious belief -- unfair stereotyping. There
is greater diversity of religious belief in the world than Dawkins seems
to admit; not all of it is subject to all of his criticisms.
And the "sophisticated audience" thing was a bit much -- Dawkins kept on
saying that the Bay Area atheists and geeks who turned out to hear him
were a "sophisticated audience", unlike religious believers. What an
appeal to vanity! "Ah, but ye, the Elect..."
Yes, that audience was s