About Guerrilla Scholarship "Guerrilla Scholar" is a nominal job title of Dr. Sheldon Greaves, the author of Cogito! It is briefly defined as pursuing the life of the mind through unconventional means and methods. This web site is for the promotion and support of independent scholars, amateur scientists, artists, and all those who enjoy the life of the mind but can't, won't, or ought not to do so within the confines of academia.
Guerrillascholar.com is dedicated to the proposition that to acquire knowledge, no matter how obscure, is an essential human activity, and that using our insight to improve the world is the highest expression of the human spirit.
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Before we get started, a huge “Thank You” to Johnna Cornett who reworked Cogito! into this nifty new look. Also a big thanks to my wife, Denise, who took the photo in the masthead during a trip to Acadia National Park in Maine.
Historians of science in general and paleontology in particular will recall the cautionary tale of Dr. Johann Beringer (1667-1740), a physician and a Senior Professor of Medicine at the University of Würzburg who also dabbled in natural science as a hobby. He was particularly passionate about fossils, and kept a private collection of fossils he had accumulated over the years. Then, in 1725 he was given some truly remarkable finds by some local lads he was employing to dig in the environs of nearby Mt. Eivelstadt. These fossils were unlike anything the good doctor had ever seen before; stark reliefs of animals, as well as images of the sun.
A print of some of Dr. Beringer’s infamous stones, bearing letters resembling Hebrew. |
Soon other, even more remarkable stones crossed his desk with images and reliefs of insects, plants, birds, celestial objects and even Hebrew letters. The following year, Dr. Beringer published a treatise on the stones called Lithographiae Wirceburgensis. After expounding several possible theories to explain these strange stones, he briefly considered the possibility of fraud, but dismissed the idea. However, legend has it that just as his book was going to press, the boys presented him with a stone bearing his own name and, in a fit of panic, he tried to buy up all the copies of his book.
Eventually, it was discovered that the hoax was perpetraited by two of his university colleagues. Apparently, Dr. Beringer wasn’t particularly popular. Beringer brought criminal charges against the two men and won in court. He managed to live down the hoax and went on to write two more books. But today, Dr. Beringer has become a symbol of gullibility and pride, a cautionary tale to those in the scientific profession who would pursue hypotheses without good evidence to support them. A good link to learn more about this incident is here.
The list of scientific hoaxes is long and colorful; to it we can add various other early frauds such as the Piltdown Man, and more recent deceptions propounded by the tobacco industry and the deniers of global warming.
The last Presidential administration became infamous for not merely suppressing unpleasant facts, but for spreading actual disinformation on scientific subjects. I have run both with scientists and spooks; both are deeply committed to winnowing facts from the chaff of noise, and in the power of the mind to uncover the truth. But the intelligence analyst and operative contend with the basic underlying assumption that someone, somewhere, is trying to mess with them. Scientists, by contrast, have little reason to think that the photons speeding towards a detector are engaged in some kind of D&D (that’s Denial and Deception, not the role-playing game) operation, although it might seem like that sometimes. One of my good friends, Dr. Shawn Carlson’s distillation of the scientific method is that Science is making sure you aren’t fooling yourself. But could it also be suggested that science is about making sure you aren’t being fooled? Should the training of a scientist include more instruction on detecting deliberate falsehood?
One can–and probably should–raise the point that scientists are not ultimately looking for facts as they are trying to refine a theory and to some extent that is true. But falsified information is still what it is, and a scientist who falsifies data will see his or her career swiftly buried with a watercolor epitaph. The intelligence community behaves likewise. If a source gets tagged as a “fabricator” that source is no longer taken seriously (unless some political hacks decide that fabricated information is okay as long as it’s what the boss wants).
The recent “Climategate” circus stinks of the kind of “black operation” one might see aimed at a political enemy to try to discredit them with innuendo, and that appears to be precisely what is going on. But it raises a larger question in my own, mind, namely that the producers of so much disinformation on climate change in particular are not taken down more strongly by the scientific community. I suspect the reason is that even if they did, the mainstream press will continue to go them in the name of “balance” and lend them the air of authority. However, I cannot help thinking that the mainstream scientific community is still being too tolerant of the global warming fabricators out there. Personally, I would like to see the scientific community take up the tools of the spook when investigating the claims of deniers, following the money, actively looking for signs of fraud, and adding those factors to the equation and to their results.
Apologies to our readers for the long hiatus. We had some technical issues that have now been corrected.
A huge thank-you to my good friend Kim McCall who came by and got us back up and running again.
More to follow, hopefully soon.
I’ve recently begun taking a class at nearby Foothill Community College in an effort to gain some mastery over mathematics. It’s an old, old project of mine. Ostensibly I’m at school for the same reason most of the other students believe they are here, namely to get an education that will translate into a job or a promotion. Since I decided to enroll as an alternative to pressing a thus-far fruitless job search, it’s easy to assume that I’m here for the same reason.
But it is not. There are two reasons for this. The first is because what you major in does not necessarily translate into job security or even a job. There were a lot of Computer Science majors at Berkeley when I was there who graduated only to find most of the jobs going overseas, and many of the remaining local jobs evaporated after the dot-com bubble popped. Higher education for the sake of a specific job has been a form of investment speculation for some time, now even more than before.
The second reason is a bit more complicated, and not entirely “finished” as ideas go. As you might gather from the title of this post, I have this silly notion that education is an end in and of itself. That is why I am diving into the second calculus class in a four-class sequence (I took the first one in 1998). I freely and frankly admit that there is a streak of idealism here, and I make no apology for it. I think that making education for its own sake a matter of public policy will lead to a better-educated populace, which is necessary for a strong and prosperous nation. What’s more, there is historical precedent that demonstrates this.
Education in the ancient world was not unlike today’s in that education was a path to a good job. In ancient Mesopotamia, you went to school to become a scribe, which meant that when you finished you could write letters or read letters for those who could not, keep accounts, draw up contracts and agreements, and so forth. A scribe was sort of a mixture of secretary, accountant, and paralegal. Ancient Egypt was similar; most scribes worked keeping records for the palace or the temples, and served many of the same functions. China was slightly different in that they placed huge emphasis on memorizing long, complex treatises on politics, philosophy, ritual, magic, astrology, and other subjects. Education was largely for people who wanted to take their equivalent of the Civil Service exam and get a government job. That’s what it all came down to: getting a job.
The ancient Greeks were the exception, as they were in most things. We get our word “school” for the ancient Greek word skholei, which means (Are you ready for this?) leisure. While trades and crafts were passed down through families or via apprenticeships as they were everywhere else, “education” was specifically for people who did not work for a living–and would never be caught dead doing so. The rich, the aristocrats “went to school” because Greek culture held that the proper pursuit for the gentleman of means was the acquisition of knowledge and refinement of the intellect. If one had suggested to them that education was for getting a job, they would have been scandalized. But think about that for a moment. Higher Education in this culture was nothing more or less than education for its own sake and emphatically not for purposes of employment.
What was “school” like in those days (around the 4th or 5th centuries BCE)? For the most part, it was people with time on their hands sitting in the Agora or in drinking parties (the word symposium means “drinking together”) and talking about the big ideas. Gradually the process was formalized and certain things were expected of a Greek education, leading to the introduction of the trivium and the quadrivium, but the idea that education was an end in itself remained foremost in Greek culture.
The Romans, who knew a good idea when they saw one, adopted this idea. Romans who had the leisure and inclination to do so spent long hours in the baths discussing and wrangling ideas as the Greeks had done. Indeed, no Roman gentleman could be considered educated unless he had a proper Greek education, including the Greek language, reading Greek literature and understanding Greek science and philosophy.
But I have not answered the question about why I think this is important, and why it proves my point that education for its own sake is fundamental to both a personal philosophy of learning and a national education policy. Perhaps you already see where I am going with this, but I’ll lay it out anyhow.
Consider the respective impacts of each of these ancient educational systems over the long stretches of time since their parent cultures thrived and faded. At the top of the list, one must in all fairness place the Greeks. The intellectual accomplishments–including the glorious failures–still astonish us today. In fact the more one learns about them, the more amazing they become. It seems that there is hardly a subject that is studied today where one cannot find some ancient Greek noodling around in that general area. Yes, they got a lot of things wrong, but as Bertrand Russell pointed out in his epic history of western philosophy, the significance of Greek science and philosophy lies less in what they accomplished than in what they attempted. Those attempts essentially set the intellectual agenda of the western world for the next 2,500 years.
Now consider one last thing. None of these ancient intellectuals were paid, except for those philosophers and instructors who took on students. Socrates was a working man, a stone-cutter, so he is an exception. But the rest wouldn’t be caught dead working with hand tools, although this had changed a bit by the 2nd or 3rd Century CE. They did what they did because that’s what their culture inclined them to do, but more to the point, because they enjoyed it. It was fun.
One of the greatest intellectual and cultural flowerings in the history of the human race was driven, in large measure, by amateurs.
But I digress. This historical example strongly suggests that education for its own sake is a powerful driver of civilization and national influence. It is the raw material of innovation an national prestige. Unfortunately, our education system gives short shrift to this kind of education, favoring instead what can be measured through endless, pointless, standardized testing.
It is high time for education as an end in itself to become not merely fashionable, but a cornerstone of American educational policy.
Much is being made of the anniversary of Armstrong and Aldrin’s walk on the moon that took place forty years ago today. Into this glut of remembrance and reminiscence I will add a few more words that I’m sure have been echoed elsewhere. I write this not because I am old enough to remember and brag on that gift of age, but because I must. The achievements of those years seem, even today, astonishing not just because of what they did, but because of what we do not do.
Today’s average toaster or coffeemaker probably has more computing power than the tiny on-board computer (with 4 kilobytes of RAM) that guided the Command Module on its journey. The magnificent Saturn V rocket was designed and built using slide rules and printed math tables. Today the argument that going back to space will result in a flood of new technology rings hollow to me because most of that technology was really created in the 60’s and 70’s. Today’s versions would be mostly refinements. One entertainment phenomenon from that time put it, “We have the technology.”
The Lunar Module returning from the moon to dock with the Command Module. NASA Photo. |
If you go back to the science fiction of the day, TV shows like the original Star Trek and movies like 2001: A Space Odyssey made assumptions about our day that seemed quite reasonable at the time. The background “history” of Star Trek and the setting of 2001 both assumed that we would be out among the solar system by now. I remember that time, and it seemed almost natural that we would do this. I remember reading books about self-sustaining space stations, colonies on the moon… it was just a matter of time. Consider this editorial written by a NASA official forty years ago this month. (.pdf file).
Public education flourished under the new priorities of space. Far more profitable than the new technologies that flowed from the space program was the vast army of better-educated citizens whose brainpower went on to fuel one technological revolution after another. For one brief, shining moment, an educated citizenry was rightly seen as a matter of national security. The moon landing eradicated excuses for incompetence. The popular refrain for years afterward was, “If they can land men on the moon, they can fix [insert problem]!”
From my perspective the US neutered its space program because the aims of the politicians who supported the race to the moon were rooted in political needs of the moment. We needed to avenge the embarrassment of getting beaten into space by the USSR. For those leaders, this grand adventure was a colossal exercise in political posturing. Even understanding the tenor of those days of the Cold War, it’s hard not to feel contemptuous of them.
But part of it also has to be facing up to some stark realities. Space is, hands down, the most dangerous environment for humans, ever. Asteroid mining and all the other industries that were part of the future vision are far from cost-effective. Even using the Space Shuttle, it still costs something like $10,000 to put one pound of stuff in orbit. Much exploration can be done better and cheaper by robots who don’t need to eat, breathe, sleep, and can tolerate hard vacuum.
Still, it’s hard not to want to see us return to space, to reach again for the stars. As a nation we suffer from the effects of manufactured cynicism; the accepted myth that the same government that put humans on the moon is incapable of any great thing. This Reaganesque absurdity still fuels toxic political agendas at the expense of our national confidence. It cheapens our priorities. The atrophied state of our space program is just one reflection of this, despite triumphs like the robotic exploration of the solar system and the discoveries uncovered by the Hubble Space Telescope.
I like to think that our ability to go into space and to the moon was a reflection more of who we were than a measure of our technical prowess. Read any of the tributes to Apollo 11 today and you will see references to the can-do, pioneering spirit, which is certainly appropriate for this occasion. But there was another aspect of those times that is less acknowledged, and that was that the space program forged unity and a sense of purpose. The events leading up to the moon landing were a process of halting yet gradual unification until that climactic moment when Armstrong’s boot touched the lunar surface. At that moment the human race was one in wonder and awe. I’ve heard it said that the space program cost about $125 billion in today’s dollars. To replicate that pure focal point of purpose, even for a moment, would be money well spent.
I’ve been giving some thought lately to the idea that some corporations are “too big to fail.” It feels terribly wrong at the gut level, perhaps because America was originally envisioned as a place where people could fail and not wind up in some endless hell of debtor’s prison or servitude. We tend to forget that the right to get a second chance through options such a bankruptcy were a pretty big deal to the early patriots who brought the United States into being.
But now we have institutions that cannot be allowed to go the way of failed ventured when they, well… fail.
It strikes me that accepting this is a very dangerous thing. Consider that one defining power of any sovereign state is a monopoly on the use of lethal force. In other words, they retain to themselves the option to kill those who are a threat or perceived as such. Even countries that have renounced the death penalty have some kind of military or even a police force that has the option to apply this ultimate sanction.
Theoretically, this should also apply to corporations or any other organization that presents an existential threat to the state. Obviously we are not talking about killing the organization’s members literally, but dismantling the organization or at least stopping it from doing whatever it does that creates harm. But if an organization like, say, an investment firm or credit company that almost single-handedly pulls the national and much of the global economy into near-chaos, and that organization is deemed “too big to fail” is it also too big to shut down, if only temporarily? Even when every reasonable legal and moral tenet says you should?
Does “too big to fail” mean that companies like Goldman-Sachs, J. P. Morgan, Citicorp, Fannie Mae and all the rest are in fact powers unto themselves, independent of the US government? If they are too big to fail, are they too big to regulate? Are they too big to hold accountable?
For these and other reasons I believe that “too big to fail” very likely means “too big to exist.”
Last Saturday my spouse and I had the pleasure of listening to another excellent concert by the Bay Choral Guild at the Campbell United Methodist Church. The name of the program was “A World of Song”, a title which does not really do proper justice to the program.
One of the great lessons of anthropology, art history, and other fields dedicated to studying the varieties of human expression is that there are many, many ways that people to think about things. The full range of that diversity can be almost shocking when you run into it; shocking, exhilerating, and enlightening. This program encompassed a remarkable array of cultures and traditions.
I was also impressed that those songs that were not from English-speaking traditions were sung in their respective languages. Languages such as Mongolian, Latvian, Japanese, Senegalese, and others. I also have it on good authority that Artistic Director Sanford Dole brought in language coaches to ensure proper pronunciation by the singers. This is pretty typical of the level of detail I have come to expect from this group, and it showed in the performances. Even when one could not understand the language, the words were crisp and clear.
The program began with a stirring and technically daunting piece in Mongolian by Se Enkhbayar, followed by a “Dravidian Dithyramb” by Victor Pranjoti. That should give you some idea of the level of material that was performed, and performed very well. A few other highlights for me were a delightful rendition of Ralph Vaughan William’s arrangement of “Just As the Tide Was Flowing”, a piece I performed with a choir at some point in my youth, and then forgot amidst the fog of middle age. This performance brought it all surging delightfully back.
Where the first half of the program covered traditions rooted in the Eastern Hemisphere, the second half was devoted to the West. This included some beautiful pieces in Portuguese and Spanish, along with a sublime performance of James Erb’s “Shenandoah” as well as an original composition by Sanford Dole, “Girls of the Old West”.
It’s easy to conjecture that such a wide range of music types and traditions would feel like a rollerskate tour through a museum of fine art, and there might be some truth to it. But it didn’t feel that way. Bay Choral Guild is a highly talented and artistically competent group of performers that conveys a lot about about a given piece of music by dint of their excellent preparation and performance skills. This was an evening of small tastes, but highly satisfying nonetheless.
A recent article in the Washington Post reports growing confidence in the US economy even though it will probably be some time before we see a real, live “recovery”. Call me cynical, but I don’t really think we’ve hit bottom yet. There are still a few big, snarling economic nasties out there, and some problems of apocalyptic proportions that many in the seats of power aren’t even able or willing to acknowledge. You might have heard that things are looking up, and perhaps they are for some people. But this post on the US economy and the online job post market has some cautionary news for those prone to wax optimistic too soon. The bottom line is that the job market is likely to suck for some time yet.
About two and a half months ago I was “downsized” from one of the best and longest-lasting jobs I’ve ever had. Those who have known me for a long time know that my career history is littered with jobs that tend not to last long, mostly because the companies I’ve worked for ceased to exist or were pummeled to the point that they couldn’t afford me, so my lifetime career description could be “job seeker” and, in the spirit of putting a good face on trouble, I’d like to thank my erstwhile employers for arranging a very nice sabbatical from my usual “career.”
That said, age and repeated bludgeoning in the work-a-day world made me realize that a good thing couldn’t last, especially given the economic signs and portents that started showing up about four years ago. I am fortunate to have some very astute observers of the economy as friends, and thanks to the advice of one in particular I tried to prepare for harder times, even though I really didn’t expect to be laid off.
While conversing with some friends of mine I’ve realized that the preparations I’ve been making over the last couple of years might be helpful for people who are facing layoff, or are already there. I offer the following hints and suggestions as just that, with no guarantee, express or implied, that they will see you through completely or even work at all. In times like these, anyone who makes a guarantee like that is (a) selling something and/or (b) lying.
Financial Preparations
I have stated in the past that I think personal finance should be considered a martial art. This is because most of the time it is naive to think of major banks, insurance agencies (especially health insurance), and credit card companies as your friends. They exist to separate you from as much of your money as possible, period. They will shaft you at every opportunity. This does not mean you should be brusque or rude when you deal with them, but keep your eyes open, and always, always assume that they are trying screw you in some way. More often than not, they probably are.
Here are some things to consider. Find some ways to reduce your overhead. I’m not talking about little things where pennies add up to saving the cost of a Happy Meal each month, but big things. Look for ways to save more money. One way is to re-examine your insurance (auto, life, health, mortgage, etc.) and see if you can get a plan that costs less while offering comparable coverage. Do the same with your phone plan. We found ourselves saving not just money, but a lot of time by canceling our cable TV subscription. Not everyone will want to do this, but so far, no regrets and it’s been nearly two years since we cut that cord.
If you carry a balance on your credit cards, pay them down as much as you can. Make this a top priority. Sell your excess stuff (probably a good idea anyway), take another job, but get rid of that debt. For the debt you can’t get rid of, contact the card company and ask for a lower rate. You can actually do this. Here’s a trick: whatever the representative on the phone tells you, ask to speak with a supervisor. The rep may try to fob you off with a very modest rate reduction, but supervisors can do better. The better your credit score, the better your chances of getting a better rate. Then in a month or two, repeat the process. It’s amazing what can be accomplished with some persistence. Contact a credit assistance bureau, even if you aren’t in credit trouble. They can give you some other options for reducing your debt and protecting or improving your credit score.
Finally, if your credit score allows, open a personal line of credit at a nearby bank as a last resort source of money. Don’t touch it unless you are one payment away from living under a bridge and there’s no other relief in sight. Insist on a fixed rate. It will probably be higher than you’d like, but having that extra padding helps. Besides, having unused credit will improve your credit score. You may have to open a small account at the bank, which is fine. Save some money there anyway, if you can. If you still have a job and have no serious consumer debt, start putting as much money aside as you can.
Finally, get on a first-name basis with a good accountant who can advise you on basic, practical financial matters.
Practical Matters
Try to anticipate the “unexpected” expenses that could bite you if they hit while you’re unemployed. Get the car tuned and looked over. If it needs major repairs, try to get them done while you have the money. Ditto other necessary items that you would not want to break down during hard times.
Streamline your life. If you have stuff that is just cluttering up your life, get rid of it. Sell it or donate it and take a tax write-off. Extra stuff is a distraction anyway. It can clutter your mind as much as your garage or closets. If things get really, really bad, you may have to pull up stakes and move elsewhere. If that happens, do you really want to be debating whether or not to keep the tea cozy you received ten years ago from Aunt Molly?
Embrace the DIY (Do It Yourself) mindset. If you aren’t handy with tools, start learning how to use them. Picking up some basic hand tools and related items can be a very good investment. If you eat out a lot, learn to cook at home. It doesn’t take that much effort to prepare meals that are as good as what you get in most restaurants (at least the ones I can afford). A great way to get into the DIY spirit is to plant a vegetable garden. Even a window box with some herbs will do for a start. Gardening is also a wonderful way to center yourself. It sounds hokey, I know, but those who have tried it know what I’m talking about. Speaking of food, shop at places that sell in bulk or offer low-cost groceries and put some non-perishable food by.
What was said before about fixing what might break applies to your body as well. If you haven’t had a checkup or been to the dentist in a while, go. Get those things taken care of. Given the barbaric state of our national health care system, if you’re poor you are very vulnerable. You may have to content yourself with “Don’t get sick” as a health care plan. If you have a health plan and might lose it, stock up on any prescriptions you might need. Talk to your doctor and see if he or she has samples available. Sometimes you can get those for the asking. While you’re at it, check on state and county programs for people who need essential health, dental, or mental health care just in case.
Friends
It is often said that hard times are times are when you discover who your friends really are. That is very true. However, it’s actually a good idea to find that out before the bad times hit. Take some time to refresh old friendships and, if necessary, mend some fences. I don’t want this to sound like you’re just buttering up people so you can sponge off them later, because they might end up going bust before you do. My recent foray among the un- and under-employed has reminded me of the value of relationships not just for mutual help, but as essential components of a contented life. I’ve heard it said that most people tend not to make close friends after age 25, to which I answer that they probably aren’t doing it right. Be there for your friends, and they will be there for you. The “rugged individualist” mythos of solo triumph in the face of impossible odds through nothing but hard work is bullshit. We really are all in this together.
I have received some truly wonderful support from many good friends, some of them of fairly recent vintage. Hard times remind us of the inestimable value of community and association. I am hopeful that this “downturn” revives a sense of community and social cohesion that has lacked in recent years.
The Next Job
In a recent editorial in the Los Angeles Times, Barbara Ehrenreich contended that “Trying to find a job is not a job”. It’s a thoughtful, provocative read and I recommend it highly. She points out that the received wisdom of spending all your time looking for your next job may be why “…13 million people have accepted joblessness with nary a peep of protest.” She argues that the discontent of the unemployed that would usually go into agitation for universal health care or real economic reform or unionizing is frittered away in looking for the next job.
Now I can see the other side of this; not having a regular income is scary as hell. Existentially so. But you also have to be realistic and smart about it. Yes, you brush up your resume, make a few different versions, and you post it in places where it’s likely to be seen. You can also waste a lot of time on low- or zero-probability longshots when there just aren’t any jobs out there. Ehrenreich’s article has some sobering things to say about how jobs overall tend to pay less in addition to being scarcer and argues that maybe the growing jobless hordes need to be gunning for bigger things than the next stint as a wage slave. So without making a pseudo-job of it, do network and be smart in searching for work, but be ready to shift your thinking about what you are willing to do, which leads us to the last item.
Living Deliberately
One of the worst things you can do to someone is give him or her lots of time and nothing to do. It’s one of the downsides of retirement or prison. But “time off” also brings with it a freedom, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. Once you get past some of the fear, not working or having a regular work schedule can be an opportunity for reflecting, for reinventing yourself, for considering your place in the world. You can read that book you’ve always wanted to read (or write!), brush up on some beloved but neglected activity, and refine your skill of living in the moment. As Thoreau advises, “Simplify, simplify!” You may find that a different pace of life and living suits you better.
It is also an opportunity for you to be a pain the ass to the powers that created this mess, as Eherenreich correctly points out. There are movements and changes afoot that need support. There is a huge “transition industry” of people to help you get the next job for less money, while doing little or nothing to harness the creativity and vigor of so many people who are now free to make things better. There is some truth to the old bromide that when one door closes another opens, but sometimes you have to kick it down.
As we have come to expect, Maker Faire this past weekend was a feast for the inventive, the curious. I think we can now say without fear of contradiction that “Makers” are not merely a sub-category of geekdom, but a full-blown movement. This year’s theme was “Remaking America”, something I have advocated on the pages of this blog for some time. I have thought for quite a while that the kind of inventiveness and ingenuity found among the Makers is the intellectual grist that and probably will do much to eventually lift us out of a miasma of economic, environmental, and even political backwardness that is now clearly unsustainable.
Ironically, this year I noticed that more major corporations have jumped on the Maker bandwagon, and some of the early corporate bandwagoneers have expanded their presence. I always enjoy watching a trend take the Captains of Industry by surprise, although it is usually only a matter of time before they manage to co-opt, bottle, and sell the very anti-establishment aura that makes this all so refreshing in the first place.
My wife Denise and a young Maker-in-Training hard at work in the open Lego floor. Photo by the author. |
In recent weeks I have had the opportunity to get back to the art of practical making by doing some odd handyman jobs and gardening for friends. I’ve also begun tinkering with crystal radios (which I intend to write more about soon), of necessity experimenting on the cheap. The tactile pleasure of coaxing sounds out of wire, one or two components and assorted bits of junk is considerable. The pleasure is all the more enjoyable because it is personal. It is my experiment, consisting of my efforts and my mistakes and my skill. Gradually, I am learning how electronic gadgets work. Very gradually. In other words, Making for me is a highly personal thing. Not that I don’t enjoy sharing my experiences with others and learning about what other Makers do, but for a long time our relationship with technology has been collective, even before the Internet let us all share in what William Gibson referred to as a “consensual hallucination”.
What I mean by technology as a collective experience is that most of the technology we have interfaced with in the last couple of decades has been of the “black box” variety. You don’t mess with it, poke it, prod it, and you absolutely, positively don’t open it up. God help you if you try to modify it. That’s pretty much been the universal experience; the manufacturer told us what to do with something even after we theoretically “owned” it. The same attitude has informed the sales of movies and music where companies try to dictate what you may or may not do with a piece of music you bought and paid for.
Prototyping, fabricating and even manufacturing capability for the average garage experimenter has been growing rapidly for some time. Predictions abound that someday products will be distributed as electronic files and fabricated on 3D printers, for instance. I can see that happening in the not-too-distant future. The trend that making is driving is for smaller, more local solutions and innovations, and I think this is largely a good thing. While working with your hands (and back and neck and other vulnerable body parts) has risks, the satisfaction of creating, repairing, or modifying something yourself is profound. It grounds you somehow, gives you confidence in your ability to adjust and adapt in uncertain times.
Yesterday’s Editorial Observer column of the New York Times carried an interesting and through-provoking piece by Verlyn Klinkenborg on “Some Thoughts on the Lost Art of Reading Aloud.” In it Klinkenborg compares the growing popularity of audio books with the practice of reading aloud as was common in the 19th century (and obviously long before that). He points out that reading was a social activity, and compares it unfavorably to the isolated “readers” taking in books through the ear buds of an iPod. He further points out that by relying on professional readers to experience a book read aloud, an opportunity is lost similar to that of never making our own music but letting recorded professionals do all the work (and, I would add, have most of the fun). The focus strays from the text to the performance:
When people talk about the books they’ve heard, they’re often talking about the quality of the readers, who are usually professional. The way we listen to books has been de-socialized, stripped of context, which has the solitary virtue of being extremely convenient.
Now perhaps this is a quibble, but I will disagree with Prof. Klinkenborg that the art of reading aloud has fallen on hard times. While the audio book is not perfect, it does demand a level of attention from the listener. Further, there is a small but growing resurgence in the practice of reading aloud. This is an excellent opportunity to plug a wonderful organization, Librivox.org, who have made it their mission to make all public domain books available as free audio books. These dedicated volunteers have created and made available many thousands of such books. In the spirit of full disclosure I have made a few recording for librivox (most recently I am in the process of finishing a recording of Ben Jonson’s The Forest) and hope to do more in the future. Klinkenborg argues, rightly, that to read a book aloud is to demonstrate the degree to which one understands the text. Reading aloud demands interpretation and comprises its own implicit commentary. Our language retains traces of the practice of reading aloud; consider that a review of a company’s books is still called an “audit”.
But all that being said, I am not sure that the private experience of silent reading is to be dismissed. Silent reading was considered unusual in the past. This passage from Augustine’s Confessions describes the reading habits of St. Ambrose, whom Augustine visited in Milan:
“When he read his eyes scanned the page and his heart sought out the meaning, but his voice was silent and his tongue was still. Anyone could approach him freely and guests were not commonly announced, so that often, when we came to visit him, we found him reading like this in silence, for he never read aloud.”
This is the first known direct reference in western literature to reading silently, although there are a number of classical sources that infer that silent reading was not unknown in earlier times. It is also well-known by people who study such things that many of the plays written in ancient Rome were meant to be read, but not performed theatrically as such. One might assume that such plays could be and often were read and enjoyed in silence. A wonderful discussion of silent readers throughout history is in Alberto Manguel’s A History of Reading (New York; Viking, 1996), particularly Chapter Two, “Silent Readers”. Manguel also points out that by the Tenth Century, reading silently was known in the west. Even though reading aloud was still the norm, silent reading was not quite the anomaly that Klinkenborg implies.
One reason why reading aloud is not as common as it once was is that little of what is now written is composed with a live reading in mind. Even though authors frequently read parts of their books for publicity’s sake, I seldom get the sense that the words were designed from the ground up to be read out loud. One exception, of course, is poetry, and Klinkenborg also notes this. Poetry, I submit, is still understood generally as something that is spoken or recited. That said, he laments that reading aloud may be on the way out:
You can easily make the argument that reading silently is an economic artifact, a sign of a new prosperity beginning in the early 19th century and a new cheapness in books. The same argument applies to listening to books on your iPhone. But what I would suggest is that our idea of reading is incomplete, impoverished, unless we are also taking the time to read aloud.
Again, I disagree. It is not just the mass production of books and literature per se. Walter Benjamin famously pointed out that the mass reproduction of art invariably wrenches that art from its original context. The reading literature of today is not written to be read out loud. To insist that it must be is to ask it to do what it was not meant for.
For my part, I welcome audio books. Reading silently puts you on very intimate terms with the text. Your relationship with the book, Manguel points out, is unrestricted. You have the freedom in your own mind to engage the author, to savor a book, or dismiss it, play God to it. Manguel summarizes:
A book that can be read privately, reflected upon as the eye unravels the sense of the words, is no longer subject to immediate clarification or guidance, condemnation or censorship by a listener. Silent reading allows unwitnessed communication between the book and the reader, and the singular “refreshing of the mind”, in Augustine’s happy phrase.
Reading, silently or aloud, is a way of thinking. To that end I cannot complain when I see people reading through their ears or their eyes, in silent solitude or in boisterous groups. My own experience tells me that reading good writing is its own reward, and those works such as the great poets, playwrights, and others who asked listeners to lend their ears, will continue to find audience.
A typical binocular spotting scope, soon to become a nifty telephoto lens. |
If you are visiting some open space district or county or state park where public telescopes like the one shown in the photo on the left. You might be able to use your digital camera to make shots of remarkably distant objects. I have tried this once before using a binocular spotting scope at a pond long ago, but this time I decided to try and document it.
You can take pictures through one of these things and, while the quality may not be fantastic, the magnification will be remarkable. You will need a digital camera with an optical zoom lens. I have not tried this with digital zoom and my guess is that this won’t work if you use digital zoom. My camera is a trusty old Olympus SP-350. Mine is equipped with a mount that surrounds the lens, and has threading on the top for a skylight filter. But I suspect this will work with most smaller digital cameras. SLR format cameras are probably too large to do this, but
Step One: set the zoom on your camera to maximum magnification.
Step Two: Aim the binoculars at whatever it is you want to photograph.
Step Three: Carefully put your camera up to one of the eyepieces of the binoculars. You should see an image on the LED display on the back of your camera.
Step Four: You should be able move the camera a little bit to center the image on what you want to shoot.
Step Five: Many digital cameras have an autofocus trigger where you depress the shutter part way and the camera locks the focus and exposure. Do this, then press the rest of the way to shoot the picture.
How effective is this method? Here is a shot I took of a duck at the Lucy L. Evans Interpretive Center, Palo Alto Baylands last Sunday:
A picture of a duck taken with my Olympus SP-350 at maximum zoom. |
Now compare that shot with this one, taken through one half of the binocular:
A picture of a duck taken with my Olympus SP-350 at maximum zoom. |
I’ve cropped the shot a little, but the size of the bird has not been changed other than through the magnification I got through the binocular (monocular?). The color is a little bit washed over, but it’s still a pretty good shot considering it was held by hand up against a binocular that wasn’t lockable into one position.
I got this idea from something I read many years ago in Colin Fletcher’s The Complete Walker, a classic how-to on backpacking. In it he described a bracket he had that would allow him to mate one tube of his binoculars with the front of his trusty film camera, allowing him to take telephoto shots without lugging an extra lens around with him.
Next time you are someplace with one of these binoculars and you have your digital camera handy, try this trick.
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