Monday, December 28, 2015

Giant Squid

A giant squid on the order of 18 feet long (5.5 meters) swam into Japan's Toyama Bay last week, and some intrepid divers dove in with it to get pictures. Video here.

A Bit of Bipartisan Good Cheer

What do you know,  sometimes Congress works:
A bill to protect the environment was introduced in the House in March. In early December, the House passed the bill. A week later, the Senate passed it as well, without changing a word and by unanimous consent, just before Congress left town on Friday.

That is the strangely charmed life of the Microbead-Free Waters Act of 2015, which sailed through Congress in an age when most legislation plods. The new law bans tiny beads of plastic that have been commonly added as abrasives to beauty and health products like exfoliating facial scrubs and toothpaste.

Under the law, companies will have to stop using beads in their products by July 2017.
As the Times notes, one reason this bill sailed through is that several states have already passed bans on microbeads, and the industry decided to support the Federal ban rather than deal with 50 different state laws. Microbeads are not really such a huge threat, but they are hazardous to water-dwelling animals and they just seem like a frill, since they are used mainly in cosmetics and less dangerous alternatives are available.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Minster Court, London

This photograph has been making the rounds of art blogs, under the wrong name, and it took me a while to figure out that it is really part of Minster Court in London. This office complex was designed by GMW Partnership and completed in 1991.

I love these buildings; in fact this is a good example of what I would like to see more of in contemporary architecture. I loathe spare modernism but I don't really expect architects to put up slavishly neo-gothic or neo-classical buildings like we did in the Victorian era. But I do want them to do something to make the buildings interesting, especially as they are lived at the human scale.

Of course, since I like it, most architecture critics hate it:
The Independent described it as ‘one of the great walking nightmares of postmodern architecture, an aftershock that rose like Dracula’s castle from the ashes of the recession.’ According to the Guardian it looks ‘as close to Batman as the Middle Ages’ and Simon Bradley sees it as a ‘vast and bewildering American influenced flagrantly populist pile of peaks and gables’. The film 101 Dalmatians gave it the backhanded complement of use as the headquarters of Cruella De Ville. The City Guides architectural expert, Paul Taylor, feels that it is a rather dishonest building, as its fantastical complexity is achieved by appearing to stick on features that serve no practical and little symbolic purpose.
And here is what I hate about contemporary architecture and its critics: what is wrong with making an office building "flagrantly populist"? Why shouldn't people like the buildings they work and live in? Why should people be forced to endure, day in and day out, various sculptural experiments with form because that is what architects admire? Architecture is not like painting or chamber music, something created and consumed by small groups of insiders. It is a mass art for the mass of the people. And, damn it, architects should strive to create buildings that the people who see them every day will enjoy.

Plus, who cares if decorative details are "dishonest" or serve no practical purpose? They're pretty and make life more pleasant. That is justification enough, as far as I am concerned.

The main entrance is adorned with Althea Wynne’s statues of three large horses, meant to evoke the horses on  the facade of St Mark’s Cathedral in Venice. Lovely.


So to heck with critics who can't stand pretty building that ordinary people like. More interesting, pretty buildings, please.

Jens Jensen, The Boy on the Wall

Gothenburg, Germany, 1973. Now in the Museum of Modern Art, New York.

Losing Faith in Democracy

For decades now Americans have had little faith in most of our institutions -- Congress, unions, big business, etc. -- and this has now begun to erode our faith in democracy itself. Vox summarizes the polling:
For Americans born in the 1930s, living in a democracy holds virtually sacred importance. Asked on a scale of 1 to 10 how important it is to them to live in a democracy, more than 70 percent give the highest answer. But many of their children and grandchildren are lukewarm. Among millennials — those born since the 1980s — fewer than 30 percent say that living in a democracy is essential. . . .
Among Americans born since 1970, more than 20% rate democracy as a "bad" or "very bad" way to run America. The number of Americans who think it would be better if the country were run by the military has climbed from 5% in 1995 to 15% today.

Rich Americans are especially down on democracy, more than 40% now saying that we would be better off having a "strong leader".

I don't view any of this as an immediate threat to democracy in America -- or in Europe, for that matter. What would we do instead?

But I do think that this shows our actions and our words matter. Over the past 15 years western democracies have failed in some major, significant ways -- in preserving peace, preventing terrorism, and organizing the economy to help ordinary people. If politicians want the respect of the people, they need to make government work better. In America we also have the problem of increasingly rigid partisanship, in which both parties exert themselves as much to keep the other side from achieving its goals as to accomplish their own, leading to grim gridlock. Right now the notion that everyone in the government should work together to help Americans seems ridiculously naive.

America's public discourse has also shifted away from the center. The sort of bland nationalism that we were fed by Time magazine back in the day has slipped into the background, replaced by Rush Limbaugh and the Daily Show. One of my favorite facts about contemporary America is that more Americans tell pollsters they would be unhappy about their children marrying someone from the opposite political party than someone of a different race.

On the right especially, but also to some extent on the left, the tone of politics has become less rational and more apocalyptic. Politicians talk more about losing the America they grew up, or even losing America altogether, than about the great things we will achieve in the future. I was struck to hear Sean Hannity, no great optimist himself, pausing during the last Republican debate to wonder what had happened to Reagan's "city on a hill." That sort of optimism is hard to find in contemporary America.

I think the rise of libertarianism is particularly destructive. The notion that we are lone wolves struggling for personal advantage in a dark forest is both wrong and damaging to democracy. Our future depends absolutely on our ability to work together and take care of each other, and the existence of millions of people who deny this has become corrosive. You can see this especially among the rich, who have started to believe in the lie that they achieved everything by their own efforts and owe nothing to the rest of us. They are wrong, and if we are going to preserve the liberal world we inherited, a world that takes democracy and human rights for granted, we need to answer them.

If we care about democracy, we need to argue back against the oracles of selfishness, the prophets of doom, and the sirens of resentment. We need to stand up for reason, for humanity, for our common weal. Because our free, democratic world, for all that ails it, is our greatest creation, and we absolutely should not let it slip away. Hold fast to the light.

Saturday, December 26, 2015

What do Student Protesters Want?

The statisticians at 538 toted up all the demands issued by student protesters at 51 colleges this year, and got the graph above. I find this underwhelming.

Increasing the diversity of professors is hard because professors tend to stay in their jobs for decades, so even the biggest universities hire only a few every year, and in some fields the applicant pool is overwhelmingly white. Diversity training is a waste of time. I don't have any problem with cultural centers, if  that is what students really want. Increasing the diversity of students is hard in the current legal climate, since quotas are pretty much illegal, although the "top 10% of every high school class" rule that the University of Texas came up with is a clever approach. And anyway there are only so many minority students to go around, and some of them go to historically black colleges or other places where they are the majority.

Tracking race-related offenses is a devil-in-the-details problem; track what offenses, as reported by whom? I imagine most colleges already track offenses that result in a formal charge against someone. What others should be considered?

Expanding mental health resources is something every college that can afford it has already been doing, yet another reason why tuition keeps going up and every college has more administrators.

Every college would also love to retain more minority students -- in fact to retain more white students, too -- but this is another hard problem.

I expect that some colleges will be renaming buildings and changing mascots over the next few years, but this is only going to happen slowly, after administrators have had time to feel out alumni and so on.

I find public apologies for long-past actions to be rituals as bizarre as anything done in New Guinea, but if that's what people want, whatever.

Maybe some college officials need to be removed, but I suspect most of this is scapegoating.

None of this is going to eliminate racism or sexism in America or make college a happier place.

Michael Davies, Frozen Tea

Via This is Colossal:
Ontario-based photographer Michael Davies timed this impressive shot of his friend Markus hurling a thermos of hot tea through the air yesterday in -40°C weather. At such frigid temperatures water freezes instantly to form a dramatic plume of ice.

Algorithmic Campaigning

New Hampshire reporter Scott Conway on his meeting with Marco Rubio:
We had roughly 20 minutes with him [Rubio] on Monday, and in that time, he talked about ISIS, the economy, his political record and his background. But it was like watching a computer algorithm designed to cover talking points. He said a lot but at the same time said nothing. It was like someone wound him up, pointed him toward the doors and pushed "play." If there was a human side to the senator, a soul, it didn't come across.
I have always had exactly this feeling about Rubio.

Friday, December 25, 2015

Michael Sowa

Michael Sowa (born 1945) is a German artist, illustrator, and author of children's books. He also regularly contributes cartoons to satirical magazines. Above, School of Fish.

Fly.

Pigs on a Wire.

 Sheep with Laptops

 Happy Easter. 

 Runaway Pig.

The Outing.


The Last Days of Pompeii.


Fowl with Pearls.

Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven

I just finished listening to Emily St. John Mandel's 2014 book, which got a lot of buzz and won some science fiction and literary awards in 2014. It interweaves the lives of a small group of contemporary people with the events that led to the collapse of civilization (a flu pandemic that killed almost everyone) and an account of the world 20 years after the collapse. I very much enjoyed her telling of the apocalypse and what came after but I didn't really love the contemporary parts. The main character there is a star actor, along with his ex-wives and friends, and I am just not very interested in Hollywood. But it is well written and the whole tale held my interest.

I found her account of the post apocalypse world more believable than most I have read. Why do so many people assume that the collapse of civilization would make most people into raging evil monsters? I had to stop watching The Walking Dead because I got tired of everyone being so pointlessly, purposelessly evil. In Station Eleven there is much turmoil and there are some bad people, but most folks are just trying to survive and welcome help wherever they find it. The main focus in that era is on the Traveling Symphony, a few dozen folks who wander the world playing music and putting on Shakespeare, the motto "Survival is Not Sufficient" painted on their caravans. Loved them.

The title comes from a sci-fi graphic novel that one of the contemporary characters was writing when the world ended. This was mildly interesting, but what really struck me was the fictional author's explanation for what she was after: she wanted, she said, to recreate the feeling she got as a child reading the Spaceman Spiff bits from Calvin and Hobbes. I knew immediately what she meant. Bill Waterson gave us a science fiction world sprung straight from a boy's imagination, all wonder and adventure, a rocket ship ride that leaves everything mundane behind. The in-book story of Station Eleven didn't really achieve that for me, and Station Eleven is not that sort of  book at all. It is quieter and more reflective, a novel about adult people rather than a thrill ride. I think I would give it a B+.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

The Nativity

Caravaggio

Giotto

Giotto (in the lower church at Assisi)

Le Nain brothers

Zanobi Strozzi

Correggio

Perugino

Francois Boucher

Spoleto Cathedral

Gerard van Honthorst

Rembrandt

Nerds Gotta Be Nerds

I just discovered that there is a long-running debate among physicists and engineers, waged with long papers full of equations, over whether the explosion of the Death Star at the end of Return of the Jedi would have destroyed all life on Endor.

The general consensus: "the Ewoks are dead. All of them."

Hans Burgkmair

Hans Burgkmair (1473–1531) was an artist and printmaker from Augsburg. He did a huge amount of work and hundreds of his woodcuts survive, along with quite a few paintings.  Above is a scene from a procession staged for Burgkmair's most important patron, Emperor Maximilian I.

And a painting of the emperor himself.

Portrait of a man who may or may not be Ulric Fugger of the famous banking dynasty.

Center panel from the Altar of Sigismund and St. Sebastian, 1505.

Famous rendering of a Brazilian native.

More strange foreign people.

Portrait of Sebastian Brant.

Renaissance copy of another Burgkmair painting, a portrait of Martin Schongauer. The original was lost in some war or another.

And a series of illustrations from Burgkmair's biggest project, The White King, which the Met describes like this:
Der Weisskunig (the white king) is a loosely biographical account of the life of Emperor Maximilian I. The text, composed by Maximilian's secretary Marx Treitz-Sauerwein, is accompanied by illustrations by Burgkmair, Leonhard Beck, Hans Schäufelein, and Hans Springinklee, with the proofs completed between 1514 and 1516. However, they remained unpublished until the blocks were rediscovered in 1775, at which point they were published as a book by Hoffstätter in Vienna. It includes 236 woodcut illustrations.
I have to say that I was surprised by the number of battles and sieges in this book that I never heard of. But then Maximilian hardly appears in English-language histories, except for his clever marriage to the heiress of Burgundy and as the bad guy in stories of the Swiss revolt. (Above, the young king surrounded by secretaries, commanders, and assorted other functionaries of the court. Imagine living like this, never alone, constantly attendant by a small horde of people.)

 Battle near Naples.

 The king enters an Italian city.

 Maximilian meets Charles the Bold of Burgundy.

Siege of Gradisca.

Detail showing Maximilian with a wonderful helmet.