I've been finding a lot of popular press coverage distressing. Maybe I should
keep some sort of journal of my specific objections.
Here are a couple of bad habits which come to mind:
- not understanding or mentioning historical context
- presenting (or being aware of) only one side's position in a conflict
- being visibly impressed by power or capability, without discussing
where it came from, or whether or how someone else could acquire it
- assuming that a particular event will happen
- projecting trends without explaining the basis for the projection;
perceiving historical inevitability; ignoring the existence of
conflicts
- editorializing about people or groups not in a position to complain
about how they're characterized
- trying to fit people and ideas into familiar categories even where
they're importantly different from what a reader is familiar with
- adopting a prejudice or stereotype without commenting on it
- ignoring a diversity of motives among people who do some particular
thing
I got to celebrate the new year in Massachusetts with Eric and Kate, for
what I think was my eighth straight year celebrating with Eric. I also
saw a bunch of cool people whom I rarely see except at Eric's new year's
party, and got a visit from Rachel and Vasilios, who graciously drove for
hours and hours.
I did a countdown program in Python, using Tkinter. It's normally done
with HyperCard, but Eric couldn't get HyperCard running right away, so
I tried out Tkinter. I have to admit that I don't know an enormous amount
of Tkinter, but it's pretty straightforward to get started with it. The
most difficult part is probably the geometry management and packing
stuff.
We thought we might be able to get the countdown to start a fire (as we'd
hoped in previous years) -- lighting a candle, for example. Unfortunately,
I couldn't get my solid-state relay to trigger from my laptop's parallel
port, and I didn't have a voltmeter or LEDs or anything else to use for
debugging purposes. So the computer control was out this year. We did try an
experiment later on to see about the possibility of igniting something
with electricity. Our experimental result is this: if you connect eight
9-volt batteries in series (which is very easy to do because of how the
connectors are designed), a fairly large spark is produced by the 72-volt
potential across the resulting gap when battery leads are brought close
together. This spark is sufficient to ignite a small piece of cardboard
wetted with 91% isopropyl alcohol.
A much simpler technique would be to get a thin wire like those used in
cigarette lighters in cars, and connect this to a relatively small DC
voltage. The wire should become hot enough to ignite things (like
cigarettes). There is some detail about matching the internal resistance
of the power source in order to maximize the power dissipated through
the wire.
The theory here is pretty simple. Suppose that we want to cause heat by
connecting a wire in series with a battery. Assume that the battery's
total voltage is V, and the internal resistance of this source is Rs, the
resistance of the wire is Rw. Then the total series
resistance is Rs+Rw, current I=V/(Rs+Rw), power in the wire
Pw=I*Vw=V^2*Rw/(Rs+Rw)^2. I did take dPw/dRw by hand (I'm ashamed to
say it's the first derivative I've taken in a year or two), and
found it to be V^2[(Rs+Rw)^2-2Rw(Rs+Rw)]/(Rs+Rw)^2, which has a zero
when Rs=Rw. This implies that the wire will become hot most quickly
when its resistance is exactly equal to the internal resistance of the
battery.
(In that case, of course, the battery will also dissipate power at
the same rate as the wire, so the battery may become rather hot as
well.)
There's a much more general result, or technique, known to
electrical engineers, and it's called
impedance
matching. I never got far into alternating currents in my
physics class, so I didn't learn too much detail about impedances.
I'm glad I got to be here for the new year. I'll be back in
California soon.
Happy new year!
I'm headed back to San Francisco.
After celebrating the new year in Hopedale, I took the commuter rail back
to Boston, accessed a wireless network near MIT, and had more tea at
Tealuxe in Harvard Square.
I'm reading The Mother Tongue: English and How It Got That Way
by Bill Bryson, which Riana gave me recently. It's hilarious! There's
something incredibly amusing about historical linguistics, especially
accounts of changes in usage.
Surprisingly often the meaning becomes its opposite or something
very like it. Counterfeit once meant a legitimate copy.
Brave once implied cowardice -- as indeed bravado
still does. (Both come from the same source as depraved.)
Crafty, now a disparaging term, originally was a word of
praise, while enthusiasm which is now a word of praise,
was once a term of mild abuse. Zeal has lost its original
pejorative sense, but zealot curiously has not. Garble
once meant to sort out, not to mix up. A harlot was once
a boy, and a girl in Chaucer's day was any young person,
whether male or female. Manufacture, from the Latin
root for hand, once signified something made by hand; it now means
virtually the opposite. Politician was originally a
sinister word (perhaps it still is), while obsequious and
notorious simply meant flexible and famous. Simeon Potter
notes that when James II first saw St. Paul's Cathedral he called
it amusing, awful, and artificial, and meant that it was
pleasing to look at, deserving of awe, and full of skillful artifice.
(pp. 77-8)
There are lots of other funny parts. I liked the description of the
Oxford English Dictionary (now discussed at great length
in The Professor and the Madman). Bryson says that the
famous dictionary insists oddly
that Shakespeare should be spelled Shakspere. After explaining
at some length why this is the only correct spelling, it
grudgingly acknowledge that the commonest spelling "is perh.
Shakespeare." (To which we might add, it cert. is.)
When I read what
Lessig
wrote this morning about the Supreme Court's decision in Eldred v.
Ashcroft today, I thought of what Rabbi Joshua says in
Avot D'Rabbi Nathan when he sees the ruins of the Temple:
oi lanu al ze she-hu charev!
(Alas for us that it is ruined!)
Rabbi Nathan goes on to report that Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai (Rabbi Joshua's teacher)
answers "b'ni, al yera l'cha" (my son, do not grieve). I hope Professor
Lessig's teachers are even now writing to him: b'ni, al yera l'cha.
Yochanan ben Zakkai argues specifically that Rabbi Joshua need not grieve
because there are alternatives to the Temple service
("yesh lanu capara acheret", "we have another
atonement"). What is Eldred supporters' "capara acheret"?
Surely it starts with cultural struggle to show people that
the public domain, and all the public's rights in copyright,
are valuable;
that, as the Eldred dissents recognized, the copyright
law properly aims at a public rather than a private end;
that
no
one is intrinsically entitled to property rights in creative work;
that, as Professor Litman argues, legislation by private negotiation is
not serving the public;
and that copyright significantly burdens expression, and that the fair use
doctrine may not always be adequate to remedy the harm.
The capara acheret is also to support all the people who
are working on the accessibility of culture, from librarians in
libraries through free software programmers through "vernacular
archivists" (as Stewart Brand says) and the creators and
operators of the "databases" so celebrated by Justice Breyer's dissent.
And its includes supporting technologists who make creative work
easier and cheaper.
It is odd that so many people should feel so comfortable with a
tax -- the retroactive part of the extension -- solely to the
benefit of heirs and assignees, where the creators of the famous
works at issue are typically dead and buried.
Id cinerem aut manis credis curare sepultos?
(Aeneid IV, 34)
If you're feeling depressed about the Eldred decision, a little
proofreading might cheer you up.
Having seen Larry Lessig argue this cause
is one of the highlights of my life.
EFF has started publishing
Cruelty to Analog, which will
cover the activities of the ARDG.
If you use wavemon with an 802.11b
wireless network, you'll notice that signal quality is measured on a scale from 0 to 92,
and can be affected directly simply by bringing your hand near to your wireless
card. The closer your hand gets to the card, the poorer the signal quality will
become.
wavemon even has a mode in which a graph of signal quality over time is displayed.
While many people use that graph (and similar graphs in similar software) to help
find wireless networks, or physically locate base stations, or figure out the
best orientation for a laptop using a particular network, you can also just move your
hand up and down and watch the graph line go up and down as your hand moves.
This means that the 802.11 card can function as a rough proximity sensor for your hand.
This evening I realized that that means you can make a wireless card into a sort of
poor man's theremin -- you just need to map the signal strength to a tone, play the
tone, and move your hand. You'll be able to play several discrete pitches or
scales, although with much less precision than a real theremin.
I wrote a three-line shell script which implements this idea (using Linux setterm, all
on a beta test version of the LNX-BBC, it so
happens), and later improved it a little bit with a small C program which wraps the
Linux KIOCSOUND ioctl. It works just fine -- you can easily bring the tone up and down by
moving your hand back and forth. That's a lot of fun. The most obvious problem is the
discreteness of the whole thing. A real theremin is plainly an analog device. (The analogy
is between the pitch level and the position of your hand.) This system is very obviously
quantized, at best like someone playing a poor piano scale (and it's distorted sine waves
rather than piano strings with their nice harmonics).
We can't really do better with the standard 802.11 drivers, because they definitely
won't give anything more precise than the 92 discerete levels. You could modify
the hardware (and build a real theremin, which is far simpler electrically than
an 802.11b card). Another approach is to modify the way the tones are generated.
What I'm currently thinking is something like this: we need to define a function
i(s) and a function n(g, p), where i(s) is the ideal pitch in Hz corresponding
to a signal strength measurement s and where n is the next pitch after some
small constant time step if the goal is to reach pitch g and we're currently
playing pitch p. So we use the function n to change pitch smoothly and always
move gradually from the pitch we're currently playing toward a goal. The goal,
at any given moment, will be i(s) -- that is, we do a loop like
p=i(signal_strength())
while 1:
play(p)
p = n(i(signal_strength()), p)
sleep(time_step)
Now the pitch will always change continuously, and yet the pitch will be
directly responsive to the (discrete) signal strength measurement. If
the signal strength rises quickly, the pitch will rise quickly. If
the signal strength rises slowly, the pitch will rise slowly. If the
signal strength stays constant, the pitch will stay constant. If you
move the position of your hand to a position x centimeters away from the
card at one time, and later move it to the same position, the pitch
should in each case approach roughly the same value -- which should be
i(s) Hz for whatever value of s happens to correspond to holding your hand
x cm away from the card.
(There might not be a unique such value, because it also depends on a
lot of other factors like the angle at which you hold your hand.
Obviously there is lots and lots of radio hardware which would give
you much better results -- maybe even an ordinary AM or FM radio
if you tweaked the demodulation circuit and gave it a suitable
input signal. But there's not lots of radio hardware you can get
so easily if you're not a radio expert and get a single digital
value out of so readily and at such a high frequency. We can
hope GNU Radio will change this situation quickly!)
My little theremin script is
apparently
even famous in Italy. It has been published by
Linux Journal.
Some minor changes are useful, so I'll try to pass them along to Don.
On the ferry on Thursday, I happened across a discarded copy of the New
York Times which happened to be open to
an
article about my colleague Fred von Lohmann. This was totally
co-incidental -- I wasn't looking for the article or anything.
On Friday, I had the honor of meeting
Whitfield Diffie.
I'm sorry I'm still so far behind in posting news from the past month or
so. I think I'll be able to catch up soon. I've read two novels I
haven't even mentioned here yet! (Well, one novel and one "romance".)
Hey, did you know that "romance novel" and "Romance language" have the
same etymology? (And it originally dates back to the Roman
language, which is even more obvious to English speakers in the French
word "roman".)
[Main]
Contact: Seth David Schoen