Archive for the 'Books' category

When Science Fiction and Science Are Indistinguishable.

Feb 21 2013 Published by under Books, Humor, Science

I have been a big fan of Douglas Adams and the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy books since I started reading his books as a teen.  Among the passages I remember the most was an offhand mention of the Great Green Arkleseizure.

Jatravartids are small blue creatures of the planet Viltvodle VI with more than fifty arms each. They are therefore unique in being the only race in history to have invented aerosoldeodorant before the wheel (though their wheels are the wrong shape; a bike with literally square wheels can be seen).

Many races believe that the Universe was created by some sort of god or in the Big Bang. The Jatravartians people, however, believe that the Universe was sneezed out of the nose of a being called the Great Green Arkleseizure. They live in perpetual fear of the time they call “The Coming of the Great White Handkerchief” (their version of the End of the Universe). The theory of the Great Green Arkleseizure is not widely accepted outside Viltvodle VI.

So I got to thinking earlier today that our theory of the Big Bang is really no different.  If you accept the fact that the universe exploded into existence and is traveling outward at great velocity, you have bought into a theory that is, on the surface, the Big Sneeze Theory – one big event and all the stuff in the universe goes flying.

But as I was thinking that, and browsing the net for randomness (as I am apt to do), I came upon a related theory. A physicist has suggested that a “bubble” moving at the speed of light could simply wipe us all away before we even knew what happened.

According to Discovery News, Lykken said if this happens, it’ll happen at light speed, which means if anyone is around to witness it — our solar system will be long gone — they’ll be gone before they realize it.

So despite our best science, we actually haven’t advanced much beyond the sneeze and hanky wipe theory that Adams attributes to the primitive, body odor-challenged inhabitants of a backwater planet.

Granted, we haven’t attributed the big sneeze and to a much larger alien (unless you count God), but it kind of makes me feel a little less confident in our scientists.

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Thoughts On This Book Is Full Of Spiders

Last night, I finished reading This Book Is Full Of Spiders, Seriously, Dude, Don’t Touch It, the sequel/follow up to John Dies At The End.   John Dies at the End became on of my favorite books after I read it last year.  I’m still psyched to see the film version when it releases to VOD in December (assuming that actually happens.)  As a result, I was pretty amped up for the release of Spiders.

While I enjoyed Spiders, I was also disappointed in it.  What made John great were three things.  First, it was raw.  While some literary critics assailed John, the lack of focus, the gritty and loose word play, and the unpolished writing are part of what makes the story great.  You’re not listening to an English professor tell you what the seventh ring of hell is like, you are there, living it with a guy who doesn’t quite know how to describe what he is seeing.

Second, it was absurd.  The Washington Post, in it’s review of Spiders, made favorable comparison’s to the late Douglas Adams, who wrote The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.  Adams classic tale depicted a universe that was totally askew, and how the only slightly askew Earthman Arthur Dent reacted to being dragged through it. Similarly, John introduces us to a world that exists beside, above and under our own – with shadow men attempting to control and manipulate us – and how two unlikely slacker heroes came to save the world. John was engaging.  The mystery behind the soy sauce, Wong’s ability to see and interact with the paranormal, and the idea of shadow men who could simply make a person disappear – as if they had never been born – all gave the book a creepy, sinister, but simultaneously inviting feel.

Finally, John was hysterical.  The absurdity could make you smile, twitch, or howl with laughter.  To this day, one of my favorite passages from any book is this:

“Something coming back from the dead was almost always bad news. Movies taught me that. For every one Jesus you get a million zombies.”

With John, Wong had mixed the bizarre and familiar into a warm, tasty stew that went down smooth and left you hungry for more.

With Spiders, however, the stew is a little less tasty.

The two main characters, John and David, survived John by accidentally doing the right things, despite their inherent laziness.  Their unique ability to interact with the supernatural allowed them to be equal in power to the shadow men, despite their flaws. They are portrayed as skilled opponents to the netherworld while simultaneously bungling their way to saviorhood.  They seem, at all times, aware of their faults, but determined to succeed despite them.

The David and John of Spiders, however, are less savant and more idiot.  They bumble through with less bravado, more self-doubt, and a lack of clarity on both their cause and their ability. There is also significantly less discussion of the nature of the enemy with which they are fighting. It’s as if Wong felt the urge to write a zombie story, and only a passing urge to tie it to the world he created with John.

The book also has less grit than John. It’s almost as if Wong, desperate to please critics and move units, has transferred his own fear of failure to his characters.  They are cautious where they should be bold, which also sums up Wong’s book.

Wong is certainly still funny, and the book is almost certain to have you laughing out loud. As just one example, a favorite passage of mine describes the ragtag band of misfits trying to make an escape in an armored monster truck.

John made the engine of the monster truck rumble to life, and a hundred miles away a seismologist saw the needle on his machine twitch. Amy mumbled, “I cannot imagine the penis of the guy who designed this thing.”

The situations are just as absurd, the humor is no less funny, but there has been a seismic shift in the attitudes of our two leads – and the author.  It is as if the characters, the author, and the book are all struggling to live up to past glory. David and John still save the world, but it seems less worth saving than it was last time.

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On Content Ownership and Business Models

A little over a month ago a friend emailed me a link to this post jumping into the ongoing discussion of the content industry’s evolving business models.  The author, David Lowery, was formerly involved with Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven.  He is an accomplished musician and takes issue with the “new boss” in the recording industry.

In the last few years it’s become apparent the music business, which was once dominated by six large and powerful music conglomerates, MTV, Clear Channel and a handful of other companies, is now dominated by a smaller set of larger even more powerful tech conglomerates.  And their hold on the business seems to be getting stronger.

On one hand it doesn’t bother me because the “new boss” doesn’t really tell me what kind of songs to write or who should mix my record. But on the other hand I’m a little disturbed at how dependent I am on these tech behemoths to pursue my craft.  In fact it is nigh impossible for me to pursue my craft without enriching Apple, Amazon, Facebook and Google.   Further the new boss through it’s surrogates like Electronic Frontier Foundation  seems to be waging a cynical PR campaign that equates the unauthorized use of other people’s property (artist’s songs) with freedom.   A sort of Cyber –Bolshevik campaign of mass collectivization for the good of the state…er .. I mean Internet.   I say cynical because when it comes to their intellectual property, software patents for instance, these same companies fight tooth and nail.

Meet the new boss, he wants to collectivize your songs!

Lowery goes on to explore the disconnect between the “digerati” who recite the “information wants to be free”mantra while ignoring the latter half of that statement, which is that information wants to be expensive.  You see the original construct was that information wants to be free of shackles, not price.  The first piece has been adopted as a rallying cry for what Lowery calls the “freehadists.”

Now enter Matt Yglesias.  Matt is a political muckraker turned internet luminary who tackles Lowery’s arguments in a piece at Slate.

[T]he thing about the piece is that for such a long article on the subject of music, the internet, digitial technology, shifting business models, and so forth it didn’t say anything whatsoever about the consumer experience. The article is instead framed around a financial clash—and in some ways even more fundamentally a cultural clash—between artists and “the digerati” all framed in a heavily moralized manner. What’s missing from this is the actual point of intellectual property policy, namely to create an environment in which the audience has ample works to enjoy.

Actually, that’s not at all the point of intellectual property (IP) policy.  The very name should make that abundantly clear.  The whole thrust of IP policy is a discussion of ownership.  It is, at its core, a property law.

That said, both Lowery and Yglesias, and most people in this fight, seem to miss a fundamental piece of the puzzle.

Ownership vs. Access

I was at the annual Cable Show last wek in Boston and listened to perhaps the most salient, and overlooked point in the whole discussion of intellectual property.  Vevo CEO Rio Caraeff summed it up in a panel discussion of content business models. At about the 15 minute mark, he discusses the clash as not one over payment, but one of a somewhat generational shift in the concept of ownership.

 I think that we’re going through a generational shift between a generation that values ownership to a generation that values access. And I think that we are living in between both worlds right now.

The truth of that point simply cannot be overstated and the Yglesias-Lowery disconnect is a perfect example.

Lowery is ten years older than I. Yglesias is 10 years younger.  I can see, from that vantage point, both worlds.  I came of age in an era of music ownership.  I had huge casette, CD, VHS, and DVD collections. I explored music through genres just as Caraeff explains.  Like him, I didn’t dive into classical music because it was way down my list of musical categories that I enjoyed.

However, I was also an early adopter of technology owning a cell phone in 93 and an Internet connection largely before there was an Internet.  I grew up, like most kids Yglesias age, with the Internet in ways most of my peers did not.  When Napster came along I dove right in and explored music in ways that Caraeff explains, but which were not, strictly speaking, legal under our IP laws.

Lowery is, in many ways, not arguing for business models, he is arguing for ownership. He sees issues with IP law because it does not place enough emphasis on ownership (either his or the consumers’).  Yglesias sees the existing IP policy as nearly perfect because it places value on access.

Viewed in that context, much of the current debate over content industries (news, music, movies, books, etc) makes perfect sense.

Much of the discussion of “viewing windows” in the movie industry is based on the same idea.  The rise of Netflix stems from people wanting to have access to a library of long-tail content, rather than ownership of a favorite movie.  The industry, however, is still focused on getting people to buy DVDs.  They are focused on ownership as a model.

Lowery is correct in that we have traded a small number of companies that provided physical distribution of content for a small number of companies that provide digital access to content.  The “new boss” is a fact of life.  That said, short of sending casette tapes to people by mail, you are limited in your ability to reach the masses unless you have a platform that has been adopted by the masses.  That used to be radio and record stores, now it’s the Internet media companies.

Nothing is stopping musicians from making music, and many will continue to make a living from touring.  But just as not everyone who plays basketball will get a shot at the NBA, becoming a rock star will still require a huge audience.  The upside, in an access environment, is the number of people who find who, and who may become fans, is greater.

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Bashing Bush, Matt Latimer, and Peggy Noonan

Sep 17 2009 Published by under Books, Operatives, Politics, Self-Promotion

So another “Bush bashing” book is out (at least in excerpt) and the Bushie loyalists are again charging the airwaves and the Internet to defend GWB. Just as we saw with Scott McClellan, they’ll define Latimer as a doofus, out of the loop, in over his head, not as important as he thinks. (Which, of course, begs the question why the Administration excelled at hiring the incompetent and the self-important. Didn’t they have a screening process?)

I have read the excerpts of Latimer’s book and frankly don’t find all that much wrong with it. I’ll likely buy the book and consume it all simply because I liked the way the excerpts were written. His publisher is right. He has an engaging style. Was he in the room or across the street at the EEOB? Who cares. He was clearly closer to the President than 99.9% of Americans will ever get in their life, so let him have his say. We might find it interesting.

The treatment Latimer has received in the last 36 hours, however, has left me perplexed. It reminded me a lot of McClellan’s welcoming reception and that reminded me of something Peggy Noonan wrote.

William Safire, himself a memoirist of the Nixon years, said to me, a future memoirist of the Reagan years: “The one thing history needs more of is first-person testimony.” History needs data, detail, portraits, information; it needs eyewitness. “I was there, this is what I saw.” History will sift through, consider and try in its own way to produce something approximating truth.In that sense one should always say of memoirs of those who hold or have held power: More, please.

Noonan, and by extension Safire, were spot on. I think that every White House staffer should not be discouraged, but rather should be required to write a book, and tell the story of their time there. Our history demands that those making it (whether the President or his secretary) should provide us with as much detail as possible. When these books are written we should not denounce the writer, we should simply ask for the next installment from the guy who sat next to Latimer so we could see how he remembered the events.

One of the most interesting conversations I have ever had was with the woman who sat next to Monica Lewinsky in the White House. She once gave me her take on the woman behind the blue dress and it meant more to me than any ABC News special report.

Do I buy the caricature of Latimer as an opportunist trying to parlay his brush with fame into a financial windfall? Absolutely. Do I also believe that much of what he says is probably exactly as he remembers it? Absolutely.

That’s why we need more of these books, not less. We need to be able to compare notes and make our own determination about what happened, who these people were, where they made mistakes and where they proved they were only human.

Now, the latest to weigh in against Latimer in protecting the Bush years is James Carville.

This little dweeb needs to be glove slapped… People that have the honor of working in the White House ought not be going out and publishing this…

I couldn’t disagree with Carville more.

The people that need to be glove slapped are Carville and his ilk for attempting to silence future tomes. If Dana Perino, Tony Fratto, or Ed Gillespie recall events differently, let them write a book and give us their take. By the time all the ink dries, we might have a semi-complete picture of life inside the GWB administration.

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Fast vs. Slow Zombies

Sep 16 2009 Published by under Books, Gaming, Movies, Pop Culture, Zombie Apocalypse

While I was at PAX, one of my fellow panelists turned me on to Max Brooks’ book World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War. It’s an excellent read if you’re into either the zombie genre or just really dark humor. After reading it, I have been recommending the book to anyone who will listen. It’s simply outstanding.

As with most topics I write about here, the subject of zombies has prompted some interesting discussions with friends and colleagues. In the case of World War Z, my only complaint about the book is its reliance on the slow moving, arms raised, schleppy zombie made famous by George Romero films. I, as a matter of preference, would much rather have seen the speedy, violent zombies of 28 Weeks Later / 28 Days Later or the Xbox 360 game Left 4 Dead.

I firmly believe that when the zombie apocalypse (ZA) finally comes, it will look more like the rage virus. Honestly, it would have to. The fact is a slow zombie is simply not that hard to defeat. They’re kind of like cows. You could hunt them with a dent mallet. Granted, if you were set upon by a pack, it may be harder to fight off. However, the spread of the contagion would either have to be immediate or a single mass event would have to hit most of the population at once.

In World War Z, the contagion is slow to spread. Brooks gives the impression that a year or two passes between the first outbreak and the pandemic. That’s simply too slow for a zombie virus to move unless the zombies themselves are so fast, and so hard to kill, that they can rapidly turn new zombies. Compare Brooks’ approach to that of 28 Days/Weeks Later or even the disaster of a film called Quarantine. (If you haven’t seen Quarantine, think of it as the Blair Witch Project of zombie movies – shaky handicam story telling that rapidly becomes painful to sit through.) The contagion in those movies spreads rapidly enough, and the zombies become fast and violent enough to quickly become a problem.

What has been interesting to me is the almost universal agreement on the topic of fast versus slow zombies. Just about everybody I have raised the issue with agrees that fast zombies are much scarier, much harder to kill, and much more likely when the ZA is upon us. I have to wonder, then, why franchises like Resident Evil or the remakes/knock-offs of Romero films generally portray the zombies as stupid and slow.

It seems to me that the future of zombie films has to lie with fast, violent zombies. Purists may disagree, but the only movies I can see remaining true to the schleppy zombies would be flicks like Shaun of the Dead that actually mock the speed.

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