There were whole forests of these, along the Wabash River in Southern Indiana. So, of course, humans harvested all of them.
Just the Anthropocene, rolling along
The photo above was shared in a group I’m in. It was photographed by ornithologist and naturalist Robert Ridgway in November 1875. The tree is identified as an American Sycamore (Platanus occidentalis) in the lower Wabash River bottoms of Gibson County, Indiana, across the river from Mount Carmel, Illinois, Ridgeway’s home town. He recorded a diameter above the trunk swell of 10 by 15 feet, a height near 160 feet, and a crown spread of over 134 feet. This made it one of the largest trees recorded in North America outside of California.
While the land under this tree and others like it was likely cleared for farming, the ~7.8 million board feet of lumber consumed per year at its peak by the Showers Brothers Furniture Company (largest of its kind in the world, it was claimed) here in Bloomington also contributed mightily to deforestation of southern Indiana in the early decades of the last century. Here’s how Showers Brothers looked in its prime:
Bloomington’s City Hall is in what’s left of this vast building. If that’s the railroad in the foreground, I believe it is the right corner, above the red dot. Our house a bit behind the aerial point of view.
I’m relieved and pleased to see Matt Mullenweg return as CEO of Automattic, the largest financial contributor to the WordPress project. Having WordPress’s Co-founder and Project Lead at the helm gives me confidence that their support will remain strong. Matt has my support.
Good cure for optimism
Michael Burry, of Big Short fame, is shorting a bunch of AI stocks. On September 5th, he wrote, “Today is the AI extended version of the bubble that did not burst like it should have in 2021. It will be a doozy when it comes down.”
The anti-AI (and especially anti-data-center) narratives (the new word for stories) are many and widely held, while the guys (they’re all guys) running the shows have no counter-narratives. And the only person who seems to be for endless AI progress is Donald Trump.
A violinist entertains Linus Torvalds and Paul Kunz on the Linux Journal Geek Cruise where I shot this photo 23 years ago. Linus and Paul are two athletes whose work has taught the world well.
On the whole, AI writing is good. Yes, I’ve called it “AutoTune for the human kind” and “fancy blah.” Claudio Nastruzzi called it “semantic ablation.” But Big AI’s grammar, styling, and prose still tends to beat the shit out of the ways most people write. Does that have to be a bad thing?
Nearly all of what ChatGPT and Claude write for me (usually without my asking first) isn’t as good as what I write on my own. If I use any of it, I completely rewrite it. But once in a while one of the damned things will produce a sentence that is clearly what I mean, and says better than what I was about to say. I don’t like that, but I do appreciate it.
There are a few vivid lines in Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself that I think describe what Big AI does for everyone’s writing—and we do for its writing as well:
I am the teacher of athletes. He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own proves the width of my own. He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the teacher.
Big AI’s writing style in some ways resembles mine: contrasty prose, one-line paragraphs, clever headlines, em dashes, blurb-ready one-liners. It also spreads a wider breast than mine—and of every other professional writer—by many miles, because it is trained on damn near everything we’ve ever written.
The other day Claude came up with a better headline for what we’re trying to do with MyTerms than any I had been generating with my own head. You can see it atop the MyTerms page on this blog, and on the one at Customer Commons. Here it is:
We can’t not use it, because it does the job too well. When I show either page to people I’ve meet at social gatherings who want to know what we’re up to, they get it, instantly.
Am I destroyed by that? No, but I’m improved. AI’s instruction by example (in this case) or in procedural ways (such as by walking me though a tech support challenge—usually better than the product’s maker) have improved me, every damn time.
And who is being destroyed here? Is it me teaching an AI that honors my style, or an AI that learns better writing constantly from the humans who train it?
Or how about the old educational system? The old tech support system? The old business office system?
In Laws of Media, Eric and Marshall McLuhan teach that every new medium (including every new tech) does four things: retrieve, enhance, obsolesce, and reverse. They call this a tetrad, which they illustrate this way:
Big AI retrieves all digitizable (and already digitized) human expression, enhances what we do with it, obsolesces much of it, and reverses into semantic ablation, fancy blah, hallucination (better word: bullshit), fakery on a grand scale, giant unwelcome data centers, vain oligarchs who can no longer read the world’s rooms, and much else.
I think one challenge (among many) for us is making the most of how Big AI mirrors (also distorts, amplifies, and other-verbs) our collective whole. Maybe the challenge for both humanity and AI is to leverage Whitman in our time. From the concluding passages in Song of Myself:
Each man and woman of you I lead upon a knoll. My left hand hooks you about the waist, My right hand points to landscapes and continents, and a plain public road.
Not I, nor any one else can travel that road for you. You must travel it for yourself.
It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.
Shoulder your duds, and I will mine, and let us hasten forth.
If you tire, give me both burdens and rest the chuff of your hand on my hip. And in due time you shall repay the same service to me.
Long enough have you dreamed contemptible dreams. Now I wash the gum from your eyes. You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every moment of your life.
Long have you timidly waited, holding a plank by the shore. Now I will you to be a bold swimmer, To jump off in the midst of the sea, and rise again, and nod to me and shout, and laughingly dash your hair…
Do I contradict myself? Very well then. I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes…
The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me. He complains of my gab and my loitering.
I too am not a bit tamed. I too am untranslatable. I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
The last scud of day holds back for me. It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadowed wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the desk.
I depart as air. I shake my white locks at the runaway sun. I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift in lacy jags.
I bequeath myself to the dirt and grow from the grass I love. If you want me again look for me under your boot soles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean. But I shall be good health to you nevertheless. And filtre and fiber your blood.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged. Missing me one place search another I stop some where waiting for you.
All of humanity, in addition to Walt Whitman, is now under AI’s bootsoles, and ours as well.
But we, not AI, are human. It is humans that Whitman calls to be wild, free, and untranslatable.
Eric McLuhan one told me that almost nothing is ever completely obsolesced. We still have steam power. We still have handwriting. We will always have music, and other arts that only humans can create and re-create.
No AI, and no robot (no matter how human it appears) could ever be those musicians, or do what those musicians do. It also cannot be or make any of their instruments. Nor could any AI give us a better Beethoven or Mozart. But could it help students of those musicians? Or luthiers wishing to become another Stradivari or Guarneri? I think probably.
I’m not a writer whose skills approach the ever-perfecting levels of those musicians, or of the great writers whose works improve me every time I read them. But I do learn from Big AI, constantly. And I look forward eagerly to when all of us have personal AIs of our own that we can teach, while they teach us as well.
Context: We are all both biological and digital now.
As biological beings, we are mortals whose best loves and works outlive us whether we know it or not. Fr. Seán Ó’laoire calls us spirits in space suits. I share his optimism—for both ourselves and for what we make, including AI.
While we have been biological for the duration, we have been digital for not very long: maybe since we starting being copeless without our phones. How long has that been? Less than two decades, tops. (The first iPhone and Androids came out on 2007.) And we will remain digital for many decades, centuries, and millennia to come.
The older I get, the earlier it seems.
I’m a born optimist, and have been one for going on 80 years, which it turns out is a very short time. (I’m still shocked by that. Bodies shouldn’t wear out, should they? But they do. Biology wins, and that’s not a bad thing.) I’ve seen and participated in many tech revolutions: automatic transmissions, air conditioning, FM radio, personal computing, the Internet and the Web, Smartphones and tablets, digital photography and video, fiber and Wi-Fi, cellular telephony and data, ubiquitous connectivity.
Now it’s AI, and soon—inevitably—we will have personal AI that is entirely ours and not provisioned through suction cups on corporate tentacles.
After that happens, I expect that The Cluetrain Manifesto, ProjectVRM, and The Intention Economy will all prove out, though likely not in the ways I’ve imagined or forecast. Same with MyTerms, which I expect will activate all three of those. But I don’t know. Faith is evidence of the unseen, St. Paul (or somebody) said. So I go on that, or change my mind. (I contain multitudes, and they argue.)
I do know that all forms of tech, from stone tools to AI, are genies that grant uncountable wishes. They also, as Marshall McLuhan taught, shape us after we shape them. Digital tech plus the Internet are the greatest shapers of humanity since whatever evolutionary circumstances made us walk upright, think, speak, and make tools. AI is the latest and greatest family of products and services engendered by digital tech and the Internet.
Let’s be athletes who make sure our best wishes for AI are the ones that win.
The Indiana Hoosiers football team, still-undefeated national champs (17-0 including last year and this one) take on the Howard Bison today at noon. I’ll be watching. (It’s on Fox One.)
My biggest concern about AI? That we all start sounding and thinking exactly the same.
We spend so much time talking about AI alignment. I worry about how much we’re aligning ourselves with it.
Same words. Same ideas. Same “unique perspectives.”
And scrolling through LinkedIn, I feel like it’s already happening. 😂
I want AI to help me develop my thinking. I’m less excited about outsourcing what makes it mine.
Commented I,
How services trained on everybody and everything make everybody sound like everybody and as if they know everything about everything.
USGS: “This true-color image was taken by the Enhanced Thematic Mapper Plus (ETM+) sensor aboard the Landsat 7 satellite on September 12, 2001, at roughly 11:30 a.m. Eastern Daylight Savings Time. A day after the attack, smoke continues to billow out of the collapsed Twin Towers.”
There was far more, and often better, processing of what we hadn’t yet named 9/11 in the days that followed. Here is my own blog, twenty-five years ago today. Again, this is reverse-chronological. My learnings and writings that day go from bottom to top.
Wednesday, September 12, 2001
Blog bloat
Up to almost 4400 visits today. Wednesday is usually the peak day of the week, but is way past the average — and almost a third what it hit when I got Slashdotted.
Anyway, thanks.
Living up to his nickname
As soon we saw the news yesterday morning we began to worry about our friend David “Save” Alper. I knew he worked somewhere in one of the World Trade Center towers, but we hadn’t talked in a couple months and I wasn’t sure. Joyce and I began to worry when calls to his apartment in New York kept going to a machine. His wife Susan (an old and dear friend through whom we met and got to know Save) seemed to be out too, and their absence began to acquire ominous significance. (Though not so much for Joyce, whose intuition told her Save was safe.)
This afternoon while I was out on errands, I became increasingly sure David had been in one of the buildings. But was he safe?
David/Save is one of the most alive people I know. He a big, loud, passionate, lovable, larger-than-life New Yawk kinda guy. It’s almost impossible to imagine him gone.
When I got home a few minutes ago, Joyce said she finally got a call from him. His story, which I would love to put up here later in long form, was amazing.
Here’s the short version… He worked on the 84th floor of Building Two. When the plane hit Building One, he and his co-workers began to work their way down the stairs, including stairs through the floors that were destroyed when the second plane hit that very building. By that time, however, they were out and blocks away. Apparently the evacuation was as orderly as a fire drill — until the worst finally happened.
I just did a search of my own email archives and came up with a perfect picture of Save, looking like the fun guy he is:
[photo: lwe2001.jpg — Doc and Save]
That’s me on the left. (By the way, we’re both Davids with nicknames whose wives call us David.)
Anyway, this is just tremendous news.
But it’s far from over. I still have other friends whose silence gets more eerie by the minute.
Dysconversation
I won’t point fingers, but I will observe that petty rectitudes are starting to jam the flow of altruistic conversation and useful information that might save lives and change minds. So here’s an appeal to give a smaller shit about whatever it was that bothered each of us before the hate hit the buildings — and whatever politics and moral defaults we may have had before we were hit with a flash flood of fresh information and unwelcome questions.
And yes, I am speaking about my own (privately much-criticized) Pacifism along with everybody else’s Whatevers.
Just one New York state of mind
David Williams writes (and I reprint with permission):
I live/work on the Island (Long) and luckily, no one that we know of was lost…
I am reminded of an old friend, David Dellinger (Chicago 8/7 conspiracy trial-1969)… He is a pacifist… He understands that there are evil people who do evil things… but could never bring himself to raise a gun and take another’s life. He spent one year and one day in a maximum security prison for refusing to serve in the armed forces… (Is this courageous? At any point, he could have said “yeah, I’ll go” and been out of it. He wasn’t afraid of dying, he was afraid of what killing another would do to him.)
I am a young man, but I have seen how history is recursive, and how our actions sometimes come back to haunt future generations…
A caller on the radio station which I listen to in the mornings on the way to work said (paraphrased)
“We never were so intentionally cruel to the innocent, so joyful in their pain”… I begged to remind her of My Lai (spelling?), and the rape and pillage of Vietnam villages, under order, by US soldiers…
Our country has been so intentionally cruel.
I hear the “we took precautions in Iraq” line, and I remember a few facts:
– We put Saddam Hussein in power.
– We did nothing to prevent the genocide of the Kurds during or after the war.
We, too, can be evil.
Does that mean that I am not devastated by this loss?
Fuck, I’m angry.
But what is justice? With all of our “smart-bombs” and initiatives in Iraq, Saddam Hussein is still in power. All of the people we killed, all of the country’s infrastructure that sustains life destroyed, and we MISSED him.
What are we going to do? Attack the Middle East, with a rightful vengeance that only a wronged people can muster? Attack them, and kill them, and show them what real terrorism is? Show them how it is done, and why not to “fuck with us” anymore?
And meanwhile, let’s make sure that we show them “Business as usual”, flights in the air the next day…
“You don’t scare us”… We should be scared. 4 Airplanes were hi-jacked with the same cardboard box opening knives that I was issued when I worked for the Wholesale Club…. It could have been 20, if they had wanted… Without some effective thought on whether we can prevent it again, we are going to launch X number of bombs back into the air, with the hopes that we catch the hijackers this time? All so that they realize that our “dicks” are bigger than theirs?
Also a good piece by David Beers, in Salon. The next feeling, after I was sickened by watching the WTC collapse on live TV yesterday, was the loss of what Beers calls “the psychology of immunity.” With that psychology, I gladly fly. For now, I’ve lost that. So have uncounted others. Terrorism at work.
Here’s more from my sister, excerpted from an email:
As our parents came of age with the Great Depression and were tempered into adulthood by the Second World War, we were born into the world of Nuclear destruction, came of age with Kennedy’s assassination, and were tempered into our adulthood by Vietnam, will today’s youth see this as their crucible? Or is this just a turning point into the world they are inheriting? Is this the Pandora’s box for them as the Bomb was for us? Once opened, it can never be closed; it is a reality that they will always live with?
Oh God, I hope not. I pray not. But I fear so.
But may this also be the fire that fuses us into the nation we can be, the world we can be. Like it did after the Depression and WWII, strength can come out of strife, heroism out of horror and hope out of Hell. May we be up to the test. May the world be with us.
And the always vivid Michael Moore, with a dozen quotable lines.
Meanwhile I wonder how much of the news isn’t getting out because Reuters had a Data Center in the WTC. Much, perhaps most, of the raw news that goes out on the world’s media comes up through Reuters or the Associated Press.
Maybe with a la carte micropayments for streamed content, we could get this kind of stuff full time
Adam points out that yesterday’s attack knocked Entertainment off the air, at least in those media that retain a sense of Serious Responsibility. I have to say it was comforting as well as informative to watch coverage from the major networks that not only displaced entertainment programming, but was uninterrupted by advertising.
Surreality check
Here’s Eric Norlin on the delta between war rhetoric and tactical action:
…the response will be swift, distributed and — if my hunches are right — nothing like a war. People are taking this “act of war” statement as some indication that we’re deploying, etc. It could mean something entirely different (my opinion). It could mean a return to certain Cold War tactics within the covert operations of the intelligence community. It could mean rescinding Reagan’s Presidential decree that made it illegal for us to assassinate foreign leaders. It could mean a return to power for the CIA — an organization that had lost most of its muscle to the NSA as of late. Just a thought…
Guess I’m one of those “people.”
Expressing appreciation
RageBoy reports: “Dunkin’ Donuts has made its entire product line available at no charge to the U.S. law enforcement community.” RB will be on NPR’s Marketplace tomorrow morning, by the way. Talking fashion, of all things.
Sephardi Chief Rabbi Eliyahu Bakshi-Doron today called on the Islamic clerics who have published fatwas (religious rulings) ordering suicide-bombings and declaring the bombers shahid (martyrs), “to rescind the order and to call on the world to preserve the sanctity of life, and to forbid large-scale attacks on innocent civilians,” in a statement released this morning.
He adds:
Are these the Palestinians that you love.
You maybe looking for peace, but they are looking for war.
Appeasing terrorists and people who support and harbor them does not lead to peace, it leads to war.
Think in terms of life and death and not war and peace.
We want to promote life, sometimes that involves declaring war on those who support death.
He also writes, You should consider whether your implied policy of appeasement is not in fact helping their cause. Doc, please think before you post.
I do think. I just don’t think the same way as those who conflate terrorism with entire countries or faiths. We can thank that kind of thinking for what happened yesterday.
I also thank this same correspondent for sharing this story from Yahoo Asia about a Cairo citizenry apparently approving of yesterday’s attack: “The Americans are cowards. They use other countries to hit us. They don’t have the courage to meet us face to face,” said Khalil Matar, 43, who works in a state-run soap factory. “The myth of the indestructible United States has gone up in smoke.”
In that context war came home to us in the U.S. for the first time. If we think of the Gulf War as one that started under Bush the Elder and continues under Bush the Younger, yesterday’s destruction in the U.S. can also be seen as vengeance for allies’ “Highway of Death” strike against the Iraqi retreat near the end of the war. For the opposing view on that matter, see the links here and here.
Are we ready for more terror? Do we have any faith it can be prevented? Do we trust an administration so pickled in cold-war thinking that it would put billions into missile defense against unexpressed threats, rather than more thinking into why expressed threats are all too real — and backed by popular support, even among the populace of “moderate” countries like Egypt?
These are times when the easy answers are also the most suspicious. This isn’t a “war between good and evil,” or between “those who love freedom” and fill-in-the-blank. It’s the hostile expression of collapsed distinctions, mostly between innocent populations and a hated few.
Yes, let’s think before we post. But let’s also urge our leaders to think before they act, and to listen before they think — and to listen with extra attention to the unwelcome and unfamiliar voices.
It’s the only way we will ever learn the whole reason why so many of our friends and loved ones died yesterday.
One degree
Now the silences take ominous meaning. We leave messages with friends in New York and hear back nothing. Understandable, we think … but the worst possibility is far too plausible.
We’re all waiting for the dead, for passenger lists that consist of entire companies: law firms, brokerage houses, trade organizations, investment banks, technology shops…
And we watch the talking heads on television, talking about “the need for disproportionate response” as the “only way to respond to terrorism.” Even Colin Powell.
Terrorism isn’t war. Terrorism is few against many. War is tribe against tribe, nation against nation. Lately — certainly since World War II — whole cities have become legitimate targets in the mathematics of war. London, Dresden, Hiroshima. Persuasive disproportion.
Are we at war with Afghanistan, then? For our disproportionate response will we kill thousands in the world’s most wretched country, where a million children are dying already, just to waste a few dozen or hundred sneaky terrorists? This is what we contemplate when we talk about war.
One sigh, one life
Our cousin who works for the Pentagon is okay. She was out of town. That leaves dozens of others we know. Perhaps hundreds. Joyce’s sister just returned from a meeting with investment bankers in the World Trade Center. She now assumes that most or all of them are gone.
I first met Kevin on the Cluetrain list, where he was a wise voice of reason, equanimity and good humor. Until I gathered otherwise, I thought he was a grizzled old dude like myself. But he isn’t.
With guys like Kevin around, the country will be in good hands for another generation. But for now those hands are, like all of ours, gripping the tops of our own shaking heads.
What happened?
President Bush called yesterday’s events “an attack on freedom.” His statements throughout the day, like those of many I heard on the news, were full of patriotic bluster and promises of vengeance. Of course this is pro forma stuff, required to “reassure the nation” and all that. But can we trust the premises?
We don’t even know who did this stuff yet. We also don’t know what motivated them. Whatever it was, I’ll bet it didn’t have jack to do with “freedom.” It probably had everything to do with America’s support for Israel, which has always had its dangers.
One email I received yesterday said this:
I am curious about one thing, at any time today, did you ever hear anyone say anything as to what is it that the American people have done to incur such hatred, etc? What policy, what goal, what course have we followed? Did anyone attempt to hold a mirror up for us to reflect on our behavior and whether we contributed at all to this madness?
I have this fear that we will pursue a course of right wing extremism that will ignore the underlying causes that seem to feed and support Mr. Bin Laden. Instead we will increase security, buy more cops, more laws, fewer civil liberties, maybe an anti-missile defense, and do nothing for hunger, suffering, health care, housing, etc. I have always figured that if the Palestinians all had three bed room two bath houses and cars they would be throwing far fewer rocks, and not providing suicide pilots.
But we don’t know.
What we should know is that this thing has a context. What is it?
Like many who have written to me, I also fear we’ll slip into a fortress mentality without any idea exactly what or who we’re defending against. Today some chesty official on TV said “Your military is ready!” And I thought, “For what?” As Daniel Shorr put it on NPR, the attack on Pearl Harbor “had a return address.” This attack was bigger, and didn’t.
Yet it was highly effective. Our country was all but shut down, our president was on the run and everybody was talking about war without knowing who the enemy was.
The President’s eventual words of assurance and steely resolve didn’t convince me of anything other than his need to express them — and our need to hear them as well.
As my sister put it, yesterday’s events call for us to be leaders of the sane world. To be sane, you have to be in touch with reality. If we think this is another Pearl Harbor, we’re not even close to it.
Rational reactions
I’m impressed at the level-headedness and rationality of the ex-military and ex-national security folks I know. My sister, a retired U.S. Navy commander, wrote me an email this morning that contained many wise words, including one of the best lines I’ve read on this whole matter: We have been called the leaders of the Free World. We now must show ourselves to also be the leader of the Sane world. I’m not sure Eric Norlin’s response to ESR’s “First Lesson” falls in the same category, being a rant and all, but I trust that he knows what he’s talking about, having served for years as an NSA spook of some sort.
And if you can’t give blood (or already have), give money
Lots of link-rot in a quarter-century. On behalf of reality, I apologize for those. We didn’t think the Web was a whiteboard back then. Now we know.When I have time I’ll dig down in the Internet Archive, and replace the dead links with resurrected ones. Alas, my own original blog, which ran from 1999 to 2007, is not in the Archive.
Nice to see Chris Locke, aka RageBoy, mentioned often in this. We lost him in 2021 and I still miss him today.
My original blog on 9/11/2001, twenty-five years ago. In the tradition of that time, the chronology is LIFO. I started writing after midnight at our home in Montecito, California, hours before the planes struck the buildings. I woke up when my sister called a bit before 6 AM Pacific, right after the first plane struck the North tower. She said, “Turn on your TV. Now!” I watched, and blogged the below as the day went on. My first entry was A time for love and mourning. Read up from there.
Tuesday, September 11, 2001
Stars. Just stars.
Walking back from a meeting at school this evening, the kid and I looked up at the sky, as always. But it was … different. What was that behind the high branches of an Oak tree? A star or an — no, it couldn’t be an airplane. There were no airplanes in the sky tonight. Only stars: a condition we haven’t seen in nearly a century.
“Why aren’t the planes flying, Papa?” he asked. I explained. He asked again. I explained again. I stopped the questioning when the count got to four.
But it won’t stop.
What’s down?
I get a steady flow of email, up to hundreds per day. But after 5:13 tonight, nothing. Is it just that everybody’s watching CNN now? No idea. Seems creepy.
More perspective
Here’s Morgan Stanley, which had 3500 people working in the World Trade Center:
Because of the enormous emotional and physical toll that these events have taken and will take among many of our employees and their families…
Close to home
We just lost power for a few minutes. No idea why.
Here are Blogger sites mentioning “World Trade” or “terrorist.”
How?
BBC says the pilots would surely have been killed first, since they would never follow orders to fly into a building. I notice that all four planes involved were 757s and 767s, which have roughly identical cockpits.
Odd how we mull details like these to get a small grip on an immense tragedy. Right now I don’t even want food. Just details.
Now it gets personal
Our West Coast family members check in fine. One is in Ohio, and will probably drive home to L.A. So far we’re lucky. East Coast, not so sure. I have a cousin who works in the Pentagon. My sister is a retired Navy officer, recently moved from Arlington to North Carolina. “I lost friends today,” she tells me. But who? So far we also don’t know very much about who lived, who died, who’s lost, trapped or worse.
Dave points to a press release reporting the death of Danny Lewin. He was on the American flight from New York to Los Angeles that crashed into the World Trade Center. I didn’t know Danny, but I’ve met him. He was a good guy. According to his bio, he was also a member of the Israeli Defense Forces. I imagine he would have done his best, as a passenger, to stop this thing.
And there were so many others lost today. So many families waiting, right now, for loved ones to call, to show up at the door.
The deepest human substance
Now is the time to give blood, not take it. Wherever you are, please give some. For New York, call 1 800 933-blood or visit http://nybloodcenter.org/.
Declaration of Peace
One of the surprising things to me about blogging is how much I don’t say. I tend to be a very disclosing guy, but if anything I tend to disclose less personal stuff than I ever thought I would have when I started this thing in 1999.
But today I’ll tell you where I come from on the matter of war.
I am a pacifist. I applied for conscientious objector status during the Vietnam War, and I would have served in that capacity if I hadn’t received a medical deferment.
I went to a Quaker college, and have always felt most at home, philosophically and morally, with the Society of Friends. Although I currently attend a Catholic Church, my beliefs are the same.
What happened today brings out the pacifist in me, and the linguist as well. Just about everything we believe, and say, is framed up by conceptual metaphors. In the words of George Lakoff, written at the height of the Gulf War, metaphors can kill.
We have a choice about the ones we use. For the sake of those still with us, and the souls of those we’ve lost, choose your conceptual frameworks carefully.
Perspective
We hear that 50,000 people worked in the World Trade Center alone. Consider these numbers:
4,435 U.S. soldiers died in the Revolutionary War, and another 2,260 in the War of 1812. Including civilians, 373,458 died in the Civil War. 53,513 combat deaths in World War I, plus 63,195 “other.” 292,131 combat deaths in World War II, plus 115,185 “other.” 33,651 combat deaths in the Korean War (no “other” listed). 47,369 combat deaths in the Vietnam War, and 10,799 “other.” And for the Gulf war, the respective numbers were 148 and 145.
I need to pick up the kid from school soon. This morning he wanted to know why his parents were crying. We couldn’t begin to explain.
Open choices
What happened today may have been an act of war, but it was also an act of insanity.
Many people we know are dead. Many more are dying. This is a time to open our hearts, our homes, our wallets and our minds.
There is only one sane choice open to us all: What can we do to help?
If there is anything you think I can do, let me know. I just added AIM instant messaging to my suite of contacts. My handle, no longer a joke, is “Celeprosy.”
A time for love and mourning
Pray, find your loved ones. Give help.
And God help us all.
Maybe because I have it
Wanted to test out the latest AOL Instant Messenger today, so I downloaded it. But first I had to come up with a name. Searls, Dsearls, Dsearls1 and Zdilmidgi were all taken, by me, in the past. But AOL wouldn’t make them available to me because they had to clear it with the now-dead email address I used when I registered those identities. So I gave up on those and tried all kinds of names, finally going with “Celeprosy.” It took. Haven’t installed it yet, though.
What’s the commercial model for your toilet? Your light socket? Your floors?
I was asked today what the ‘commercial model’ was for a blog hosted on a home computer. It amazes me that the Net is still being asked to justify itself commercially.
But as long as it is, we need Larry Lessig to rant about it. (Thanks to Tom for that link.)
And while we’re on the blog subject, check out the Lockergnome interview with Evan Williams. I ran into Chris Pirillo at TechTV when I was up there recently. Great guy. And he really does look like that Lockergnome dude in the illo.
Curious: what real competition does Google have these days? Looking here, it’s as if nobody has even bothered reviewing the matter in almost a year. At this point Google rivals the browser itself as a Web interface. It’s a portal that doesn’t act the part.
This is the image Apple uses to show how the iPhone Duo, turned sideways, has twice the screen size of the iPhone 18 Pro Max. I think it shows how shooting photos in portrait mode, which smartphones have taught us to do, kinda means that the old upright phone format is good enough.
You can buy a new Duo 18 folding iPhone with max storage (2 TB, which is what I have in my iPhone 16 Pro Max) for the low-low price of just $3199. For that you get bigger display but a lesser camera on the back side (two lenses rather than three in the Pro series, lacking the 8x telephoto). You also get a second screen on the face of the phone when it is closed, but a form factor that is shorter and wider than a non-folding phone. So, what you might have with the Duo is an iPhone/iPad hybrid that’s not as good as either at what those older non-folding designs do best.
Phil Windley: My twenty-five-year-old Intel Play QX3 microscope had no software that would run on a modern Mac, so I used Claude to write one in a morning. When an app takes a morning instead of two weeks, software can stop being a product and start being personal. Very cool.
This book is an ethnography of the 2020 census. By documenting the perspectives of government workers, Data Are Made, Not Found provides a rare glimpse into what it takes to make democracy’s data. Each chapter reveals a different challenge—ranging from the last-minute fights about a citizenship question to the not-so-helpful help of well-intended stakeholders to avoid undercounts—and shows how civil servants responded to each problem, controversy, and hurdle. Many of the challenges that the Census Bureau faced in 2020 resulted from decades of political operatives, data users, and various stakeholders playing what I call “Jenga politics,” weakening the administrative state for short-term political gains by removing support and adding more requirements.
I can’t legally use a published shot of Josh Hoover, so this ChatGPT facsimile will have to do.
Yesterday I was working in my office when I suddenly remembered that the first IU football game of the season was on. So I went downstairs, turned on the TV, found the Indianapolis station carrying it (we still use an antenna here, 60 miles away), and started watching in time to see what I thought was the worst thing I have ever seen on a football field: a quarterback’s head being rotated 180° by a face-mask grab. The quarterback was Josh Hoover, a top-ranked transfer from TCU. I thought he might be dead, face down on the grass while his helmet was elsewhere. But he got up, bleeding from the face, and stayed in the game. Three plays after the penalty, he threw a perfect touchdown pass. Indiana went on to win, 52-16.
Michael Elliot has an excellent recollection of WQDR, one of the best rock radio stations of all time. In its prime, QDR was a client of my ad agency, and many of its personalities became lifelong friends. (Most of those friendships date back to their time at WDBS, a tiny competitor about which I’ve written here and here.)
I turned five in the Summer of 1952, and started kindergarten that September at Maywood Avenue School (where Mom would later become a beloved third- and fourth-grade teacher for many years). The walk from our house on Edel Avenue to the school was .7 miles:
Source: Google Maps
On the first day of Kindergarten (Mrs. Roth’s class), Mom walked me the whole way, noting landmarks I should remember, because I couldn’t yet read. Over the first week, she would walk me progressively less of the way, so I could walk the rest alone. At the end of the week, I walked the whole way myself, sometimes alone, sometimes with other kids. (This was early in the Baby Boom, and there were a zillion of us. We often moved in herds.)
In 1953, we moved to Woodland Avenue, on the right side of the map above. I walked from there too. After school we’d often go play in Borg’s Woods, on the right edge of the map. It wasn’t a nature preserve then; it was just the Borg family’s woods, and they liked to let kids play in it. Mr. Borg lived on Summit Avenue in Hackensack and ran what was then the Bergen Evening Record, our region’s newspaper. (It’s now just The Record.) The Borgs also let kids sled on their steep backyard, which sloped down into the woods.
My point is that kids then were raised to raise themselves, kind of like wild animals. Parents were attentive and caring, but valued freedom for, and from, their kids.
It wasn’t much different when my oldest two kids were small in the 1970s. We lived in North Carolina (Chapel Hill, mostly). When they were small and could walk to places alone, they just did. Nobody freaked out. (We lived out in the country, so I did drive them to schools.)
It’s different now, in too many ways to describe. We live in a far more information-rich environment: one in which there is much less privacy, and an infinitude of digital distractions. Parenting is much more of a project. Schooling is almost totally different, except that most schools still sort kids by age into grades and test the shit out of them.
I don’t have a lesson to impart here. I’m just noticing the changes, the differences, the way lives knit together, then and now.
If you’re in chair, in the sky, look out the damn window. Some of the stuff out there is amazing. Shot this three sunsets ago over Ohio with my iPhone 16 on a flight from Newark to Indianapolis.
Here is some stuff I’ve noticed, thought about, or wrapped up, while ending a summer of travel and work (the order is random):
Progress is the process by which the miraculous becomes mundane. We (or our ancestors) saw this happen with telegraphy, telephony, radio, television, tape and digital recording, and now recording and sharing events using a pocket phone. Photography and videography are both now so easy, high-quality, and widespread that old purposes such as art and archiving are mostly sidelined. Apple and Google, our primary providers of pocket tech, mostly want you to shoot the shit out of everything, and to store and share the results using their software. Doesn’t stop me from putting my own stuff up where it might last, however. My latest photo album is here. The shot above is one sample from it. Eleven views so far.
Apple is not so much taking the early lead in personal AI as it is creating the category of personal AI devices, starting with the Mac Mini. Please note that “local” is not personal. It’s yours in the sense that you have it, but it’s still a suction cup on the tentacle of a corporate overlord. This video by Nate B. Jones explains it a bit.
Since border blasters mattered a lot for a few decades of the last century, and the Wikipedia page for them (that last link) is sub-minimal, I decided to make research into them a little easier with this post on my Trunkline blog.
I shot this image of the great Leonard Cohen on the side of a building in Montréal in 2019
Canadian universities are poaching American academics who could use a more hospitable work and research environment. Here’s McGill’s brag on its bags, one of which is my good friend Ethan Zuckerman, who will be leaving his beloved job at U.Mass Amherst to take a new and promising position at McGill, in Montréal. He explains,
Canada is offering me and my lab sufficient funding to support a core team of students for 8 to 12 years. That’s a level at which I’ve never been able to even dream, never mind plan…
Meanwhile,
The Canadian government saw an opportunity to recruit academics at the precise moment when the US government is making life difficult for universities in two big ways. Cuts to NSF, NIH and other grantmaking agencies are making it hard to build research teams in the US. Most of the support for my work has come from generous private foundations. that funding, which has always been highly competitive, has become exponentially more so as federal support has evaporated.
Second, the Trump administration’s attacks on immigrants have made coming to a US university a risky proposition for international students. At schools like UMass, international students are both an important part of our community and of our economic picture. As we lose students who cannot get visas to the US – or choose not to study in a country that appears actively hostile to them – our enrollment shrinks, and we’re left with another set of financial pressures.
The hostility to international students also creates a moral risk: can I feel good about inviting students to study with me, knowing that we take on controversial topics and methods, and that I cannot guarantee that their work won’t have consequences for their immigration status?
Nvidia just bought Hugging Face for $12.9 billion. That’s what Reuters saysThe Information says. The latter is behind an expensive paywall, so I’ll take Reuters’ word for it.
🌍 How this hits reality: Last year, Hugging Face turned down a $500 million investment from Nvidia at a $7 billion valuation. The stated reason was protecting the community from a single company’s influence. This month, Nvidia offered $12.9 billion for the whole thing. Hugging Face said yes. The principle did not change. The price did. Every speech about community independence has a number. Hugging Face just found it. The open-source AI world now has a landlord, and the rent was $5.9 billion above the original offer.
🛎️ Key takeaway: Hugging Face said no to Nvidia at $5 billion. It said yes at $12.9 billion. The difference is not a change of heart. It is a reminder that every community’s independence is for sale. The only question is the price.
GitHub is a place where developers put code, while Hugging Face is a place where developers put models. If that’s not an exact analogy, it’s close enough, or Hugging Face wouldn’t be called “the GitHub of AI.“
Microsoft seems to have done a good-enough job of keeping GitHub independent, or GitHub wouldn’t continue to grow. Will Nvidia do the same with Hugging Face?
Like “Goldie Boone,” whom I wrote about here last month, “Luna Azul” (above right) is a fake singer. Pure AI. Her music too, I suppose. I’m sure of it. But neither artist nor music are identified as AI-generated. “New music every week,” Luna’s YouTube channel says. At first, I thought she traced to this site in Austria. Digging around there, I also found this girl (obvious AI image—she’s too good-looking) singing a breathy love song. Same with this French girl, this pianist, and… this Emily Linge cover of a Beatles song? Emily seems real, maybe. Is she?
The MyTube “About Us” page I’ve been perusing is assembled by Christian Kumhofer, of Purkersdorf, Austria. He describes it as his video collection, funded by donations. As for Emily Linge, there is a soprano singer by that name who is clearly not the one in all the YouTube videos. Here’s the Emily Linge YouTube page. And I see she has at least one biographic profile. But her work sounds like real session tracks with faked singing and visuals. (A tell: too well-lit.) But hell, I dunno, and I’m packing for travel so I’ll stop now. You tell me.
And loved them all
Among Money Inc.’s wealthiest college towns, I’ve lived in numbers 2, 3, 4, 10, 13*, and 20. I’ve also had good hang times in 5, 9, and 15. Oddly, I’ve never been to #1, and I grew up in both North and South Jersey.
Wired has a good review of electric toothbrushes. I’ve had both the brands that Wired names winners: a Sonicare and an Oral B. The Sonicare was an early model that I bought late in the last millennium. One battery charge lasted for weeks, and it didn’t crap out until 2019, when I replaced it with an Oral B from Costco, which I bought only because it was a good deal. (And there were two units in the package. Very handy, because I left one behind on a trip.) One dispute with the review. It says, “Oral-B says the battery lasts about a week, but we squeezed out 10 days in testing. That’s decent, though not as long as some other models.” While I’ll agree that my old Sonicare’s battery life was amazing, I’ve taken the Oral B on two-week trips without worrying about losing the charge. I do believe that electric toothbrushes like these beat the manual kind.
What makes another person’s gaze so powerful? According to Sartre, we exist in two radically different ways.
In our own minds, we are a “Subject.” We are a limitless current of intentions, possibilities, memories, and dreams. We are not a fixed thing; we are a constant process of becoming. When you are alone, you experience this freedom most purely. You are the author, director, and star of your own reality.
The moment another person looks at you, however, you are ripped from that role. Under their Gaze, you are instantly transformed into an “Object.” You become a thing in their world, defined by external properties they assign to you: “tall,” “serious,” “well-dressed,” “nervous.” Your infinite inner world collapses into a finite, external label. And the most terrifying part? You have no control over what that label is.
Their perception becomes a prison. Their judgment, even if unspoken or indifferent, builds the walls. Every encounter, then, is a silent battle for subjectivity. Who gets to be the free consciousness, and who is forced to become the defined object?
But what if the look is of love? Of acceptance and understanding? Of respect? Of easement toward your privacy and personal space? Does Sartre leave room for Whatever? Guess I need to read No Exit again.
Bob Dylan in a 1965 publicity photo taken by Daniel Kramer. The photo was issued by Albert Grossman Management (ABGM), created by Dylan’s manager Albert Grossman (sez Wikipedia)
Seth Godin on The Amazon Tax: “Amazon is stealing from the customers they said they were here to serve.”
And here we are
JA Westenberg in The Intellectual Circle Jerk and Why We Can’t Stop, subtitled The Citation Shell Game: “You don’t build your audience by making your audience feel like they’ve got some bloody hard work to do; you build an audience by making people feel like they’re already a murder of geniuses, and by flattering their existing positions.” The conclusion:
The obvious answer is to read people you disagree with. That’s true but insufficient, because most people who think they’re doing this are actually reading the version of the opposing view that their community has already refuted. The strawman tour. The more useful practice is to look for the strongest version of a challenge to your existing framework, find the smartest person who holds it, and take seriously the possibility that they might be right and you might be wrong.
Most intellectual communities are not set up to reward this. They’re set up to reward the defense of shared positions. Changing your mind on something important is more likely to cost you status than gain it.
So the circle jerk continues. The same twelve thinkers, the same citation layer, the same books that make us feel smarter than we were.
And every now and then, someone will write a piece pointing this out – and it will be widely shared among people who already agree with it.
Including, possibly, this one.
But I was only off by one day
When I chose the headline for today’s bloglets, I thought this was Friday.
In the intention economy, there are two ways that brands are going to show up. One is extractive, and the other is supportive. The extractive brand sees AI as a way to mine consumers for intimate details that feed agentic commerce. The supportive brand understands that in an intention economy, a brand’s intentions will be judged by consumers. Brands that have the intention to support culture will do so by moving marketing dollars towards genuine cultural expressions. The delicate balance for those brands will be avoiding overreach, because there is a fine line between standing next to culture and sitting on it.
I just looked up MOFU, because the acronym got dropped in the middle of Gabriel’s piece, above, and I wasn’t familiar with it. That took me to Understanding the TOFU, MOFU, BOFU funnel model, in the Funnel blog. (Yes, it exists. But so does everything.) And then to the subhead above.
The funnel metaphor typifies how far out of touch business (especially marketing) can get from Reality. Because markets are made of customers and no customer wants to be at the bottom of a fucking* funnel.
It’s strange in our digital age to look back on successes in the analog one that leave no footprint in the future we now occupy. So I just added a few things (including a new title) to an old blog post about Hodskins Simone & Searls. It still needs its whole story told.
*I’m from New Jersey, where “fuck” is our word for “um.”
Exhumed this from a Facebook comment to repost here:
About advertising, there have been two state changes in the business.
One I unpacked eleven years ago, in Separating Advertising’s Wheat and Chaff. The pull-quote: “Madison Avenue fell asleep, direct response marketing ate its brain, and it woke up as an alien replica of itself.”
What that says is that surveillance-based online advertising—adtech—is the latest (hopefully final) evolutionary stage of junk mail. Back-burnered is old-fashioned brand advertising, which was aimed at whole populations rather than on followed eyeballs and eardrums.
But car and TV makers have been working quietly and mightily to deprecate and sideline over-the-air broadcasting, so spied-on drivers, passengers, and couch-riders can have ads microtargeted at them.
The other is AI, which is making microtargeting sharper than ever.
I wish David Hodskins and Ray Simone were both still around to help us think and talk through all this. They were my partners in Hodskins Simone & Searls, our pretty successful ad agency (in North Carolina from ’78 to ’85 and in Silicon Valley from ’86 to ’98). One of our stated purposes was to improve the media environments in which our clients’ ads ran. But I think all three of us had misgivings about the business itself. I sure did.
Since then I have come to believe that advertising corrupts, and digital advertising corrupts absolutely.
Advertising has made lots of money for Google, Amazon, Adobe, Meta, and other companies for which it started as an add-on, and it has corrupted them all. Even Apple is corrupted, or it wouldn’t have made IDFA (ID For Advertisers) a hook for robot ad-spies to grab in every iPhone. Yes, it’s opt-out, but it never should have been there in the first place. And “Ask App Not to Track”—
—is also weak shit. “Stop app from tracking” would be the right box to click.
Oh, and Netflix is running ads now too. They’re in its cheapest tier. Same with Amazon Prime. How long before ads are in all the premium streaming services?