I just finished reading the His Dark Materials trilogy by Philip Pullman. Nothern Lights/The Golden Compass is the first book in the trilogy; the second is The Subtle Knife and the third is The Amber Spyglass.
There will probably be further commentary on this series from me at some point, but I wanted to say a few things while I was thinking about them (in order to avoid getting bogged down trying to come up with some Huge Epic Post before even mentioning these books on my blog).
Firstly, the His Dark Materials books are most definitely going on my list of Highly Meaningful Fiction (a list which seems perhaps inordinately stuffed in my case with children's fantasy novels, but I firmly belive that there is often a lot more going on in this sort of book than people might think from looking at them in a cursory fashion). Other items on this list include Madeleine L'Engle's Time Quartet, in addition to Momo and The Neverending Story (both by Michael Ende). (Coraline by Neil Gaiman is also a more recent addition here).
Secondly, the reasons the His Dark Materials books are really, really good in my estimation have a lot to do with just how well they manage to subvert all kinds of dogmatic, institutional ideas and vocabularies. Vocabularies especially, as is evident from the first few pages of the first book, where we learn that humans in that universe have externally-visible, tangible, animal-shaped self/"soul" aspects called daemons.
Now, the word daemon goes back to ancient Greece, where it was used to denote a category of beings somewhere between men and gods, which could be either good or evil, and which served as guardians, intercessaries, etc. However when most modern Westerners see this word it is likely that they are reminded of demon -- those nasty spirits common in Judeo-Christian mythology that do things like possess people and make their heads spin and so forth. You absolutely have to be able to get past that association to see what Pullman is actually talking about in the His Dark Materials sequence, and my guess is that some people probably have a really hard time with that.
There are plenty of elements in these books that would be considered far more controversial than the use of "daemon" to describe a creature that is good rather than evil, but they all share the common characteristic of being called one thing, but not having their nature be at all obvious by the name.
In order to get at the nature of many things, in the books (as in real life to a large extent), you have to be able to look straightforwardly at their content. In the words of one Vorlon, you must "listen to the music, not the song". People might be called witches, or gods, or angels, or bears, or men, or little girls -- but none of these descriptors permit the easy application of predetermined definitions. You have to get to know each thing, and each person, on its/his/her own terms. Certainly you can try and avoid doing that, but you will miss out on so much if you do.
Philosophically, like Pullman, I am an unbeliever when it comes to the particular supernatural entities drawn up and described by humans (and I've yet to meet anything I'd describe as being "outside nature" or "beyond nature" even outside those particular descriptions). That does not stop me from enjoying books by authors like L'Engle who employ Christian vocabulary and themes. And I think that anyone who can manage to get to know the characters and landscapes in His Dark Materials is sure to be richly rewarded, no matter what their philosophical sentiments (though I suspect actual fundamentalists would find fault with L'Engle as much as with Pullman, for she could be quite subversive herself at times!).
The protagonists in His Dark Materials go through so much in the course of their respective journeys through space, time, conflict, and coming-of-age that the experience of reading the books is almost exhausting -- in a good way. These books were not afraid to go to very dark places, but neither did they sink into nihilism; while not everything turned out "ideal" (in the "If Anne Could Decide How Things Went" sense), things did go in directions I could very much respect.
If I had to describe these books in one phrase, that phrase would be "a celebration of reality". While certainly brimming with wild and fantastical adventures, creatures, and epic-scale wonders at every turn, the major theme winding its way through the entire narrative seemed to be one of deep sincere love for all that is truly real. As with the other books on my personal Meaningful Fiction List, His Dark Materials manages the feat of using language but at the same time going beyond language to make achingly beautiful statements about the world we actually live in.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
What Each Of Us Notices: Rainy Day Edition
On Sunday it rained in California.
Years ago -- I can't recall what day of the week it was -- it rained in Vermont. I was visiting my grandparents, up in the mountains. Their house had no electricity unless the noisy gas-powered generator was turned on; normally light in the evenings was provided by gas lanterns. Water came out of the taps just like at home, but it was sourced from a well, and was always icy cold and good-tasting.
Water also came out of the sky, In seeming bucketloads.
I don't have any pictures (other than those in my mind) of that day, when my uncle and I crafted elaborate rain-costumes out of giant black plastic lawn bags and duct tape. Mine had all sorts of weird flaps and several pockets. It worked to some degree, but really I didn't mind becoming saturated. I wandered about the sopping hilly property, awash in wind and water and motion. I caught several iridescent Japanese beetles in a cup, up by the tomato plants. Their poky feet stuck to my fingers like Velcro burrs.
Today, I was vividly reminded of that day probably twenty years ago. I did not make a rainsuit; I don't even own a raincoat proper these days. But I did go outside -- albeit tentatively, so as not to ruin my camera. It was the sort of rain which doesn't just come down straight, but lashes sideways, caught in lasso wind gusts. It smacked me in the face and beaded the surface of my coat. The ground near the sidewalk between the apartment doors and the laundry room was practically a small pond.
I crouched down over the widening puddle, still protected partially by the awning. Water was positively gushing out of the bent, flared end of the gutterpipe, briefly bubbling up a disturbance and then dampening out and merging with the random concentric rings surrounding the droplets endlessly plonking out of the sky.
I knew that a still photo could not capture the fullness of motion in the scene around me, but I made a few attempts to at least capture a slice or two of time.
I scanned the largest puddle further, noticing a drowned cinderblock that hadn't registered in my brain previously, along with a small carpet of green plants and some partially submerged, partly broken blades of grass. The water clung slopingly to the grass as it broke the surface tension in places.
After about fifteen minutes outdoors, I decided to retreat back inside. I was chilly and had exhausted all the places I could possibly stand, bend, or crouch without risking getting my camera wetter. I've since spent the rest of the day indoors, only listening to the rain, doing Sunday afternoon things involving tea and text, but being glad I took at least a few moments outside. Someday I'd like to try another, more expansive rainy-day expedition -- and possibly another plastic-bag-and-duct-tape rainsuit.
Years ago -- I can't recall what day of the week it was -- it rained in Vermont. I was visiting my grandparents, up in the mountains. Their house had no electricity unless the noisy gas-powered generator was turned on; normally light in the evenings was provided by gas lanterns. Water came out of the taps just like at home, but it was sourced from a well, and was always icy cold and good-tasting.
Water also came out of the sky, In seeming bucketloads.
I don't have any pictures (other than those in my mind) of that day, when my uncle and I crafted elaborate rain-costumes out of giant black plastic lawn bags and duct tape. Mine had all sorts of weird flaps and several pockets. It worked to some degree, but really I didn't mind becoming saturated. I wandered about the sopping hilly property, awash in wind and water and motion. I caught several iridescent Japanese beetles in a cup, up by the tomato plants. Their poky feet stuck to my fingers like Velcro burrs.
Today, I was vividly reminded of that day probably twenty years ago. I did not make a rainsuit; I don't even own a raincoat proper these days. But I did go outside -- albeit tentatively, so as not to ruin my camera. It was the sort of rain which doesn't just come down straight, but lashes sideways, caught in lasso wind gusts. It smacked me in the face and beaded the surface of my coat. The ground near the sidewalk between the apartment doors and the laundry room was practically a small pond.
I crouched down over the widening puddle, still protected partially by the awning. Water was positively gushing out of the bent, flared end of the gutterpipe, briefly bubbling up a disturbance and then dampening out and merging with the random concentric rings surrounding the droplets endlessly plonking out of the sky.
I knew that a still photo could not capture the fullness of motion in the scene around me, but I made a few attempts to at least capture a slice or two of time.
I scanned the largest puddle further, noticing a drowned cinderblock that hadn't registered in my brain previously, along with a small carpet of green plants and some partially submerged, partly broken blades of grass. The water clung slopingly to the grass as it broke the surface tension in places.
After about fifteen minutes outdoors, I decided to retreat back inside. I was chilly and had exhausted all the places I could possibly stand, bend, or crouch without risking getting my camera wetter. I've since spent the rest of the day indoors, only listening to the rain, doing Sunday afternoon things involving tea and text, but being glad I took at least a few moments outside. Someday I'd like to try another, more expansive rainy-day expedition -- and possibly another plastic-bag-and-duct-tape rainsuit.
Credit, Privacy, and Flabbergasting Financomancy
I'm going to draw attention to yet another interesting post from Philosecurity -- this time about the bizarre way “credit” is enmeshed with access to certain privileges in American contemporary culture especially, and how this enmeshment serves to undermine privacy.
I was somewhat pleased to read this post because many things about credit have bothered me for ages.
Money is something I've always found fairly perplexing beyond a certain level of abstraction.
I understand money to the extent that I am capable of saving it, exchanging it for tangible goods and services, and donating it. I can pay bills on time (I'm actually practically OCD about that). Etc.
However, my sense of coherence drops off sharply the further I move away from the concept of trading objects or physical currency for other objects.
I didn't even have a credit card until I was 25, and I only got one then because I was tired of having to pay extra deposits on utilities, etc., due to "lack of a credit history".
I'd actually thought that I was doing well by not cultivating debt, and was fairly shocked to discover that instead of being considered financially responsible by the economy-at-large, I was essentially considered an economic nonperson.
One lady I turned in a credit application to was completely flabbergasted at the fact that I had no history at my age, and actually asked me how long I'd been in the country!
And the only reason I've ever used a credit card, since getting one, is for the sake of "building credit".
That is, having charged and paid back a number of credit card purchases, I no longer have Pacific Gas & Electric charging me an extra $150 (or thereabouts) if I move to a new dwelling on the basis that they don't know what kind of consumer I am.
I do not use credit cards as if they were “money”. Basically the only way I can wrap my mind around credit in the first place is to treat credit cards exactly like debit cards – that is, as “windows” into the actual money I actually have saved.
Whether due to neurology, upbringing, or a combination thereof, I simply find credit impossible to believe in. It all really just seems like a bunch of handwaving and pretending to me, and I don't really see the use of it.
I use it only grudgingly, and only barely. I've memorized the mechanical motions of using the card, of punching the numbers in, of writing the check and mailing it when the bill comes – but I might as well be cargo-culting the whole thing.
The article I linked above, entitled Mind Your Business, astutely notes that:
It's just nice to see this being corroborated by someone else, because most of the time I've found myself totally perplexed by some credit-related thing, I get responses like, “Well, that's just the way the system works, and if you don't play by it you will be the one losing out”.
I have to admit, though, the privacy angle hadn't really even occurred to me until I read the Philosecurity post.
I tend to be really naïve about that sort of thing anyway, which is something I am always fighting with. I was born totally unselfconscious (as in, as a child it was all my parents could do to keep me from running around and doing cartwheels with my underpants in full view) and it took me a while to learn what "privacy" meant in the first place, and even longer to grok that I had a right to it.
I've since learned a bit about how to recognize potentially dangerous and/or exploitative situations (my father helped me a lot with this growing up, and I also acquired some useful pattern-recognition algorithms via reading about scams, cults, and multilevel marketing), but I still don't always stop to consider how and where my privacy and personal data may be at risk. My debit card number got stolen a few years ago (resulting in a $1000+ Amazon purchase that I didn't make and ended up having to dispute with a pile of extremely irritating paperwork) and I don't know how that happened, but it was definitely a wake-up call and I subsequently rearranged how I was doing things.
So now I am both glad I've minimized my use of credit so far and wondering how I can avoid being at further risk in that regard. (And frankly I feel sometimes like the sheer onslaught of junk mail and “targeted advertising” I get ought to be considered criminally obnoxious.)
I really do hope not very many people end up actually hurt by the recession, but at the same time, I have to wonder if there's perhaps some hope that things will swing a bit back toward the concrete.
The degree to which credit is considered crucial for many important aspects of citizenship is ridiculous, not to mention the fact that it creates a number of accessibility barriers (especially for us cognitively-concrete folks) in addition to putting people's vulnerable data at great risk.
Disclaimer: This post is not meant to suggest moral superiority on my part (I don't think I'm "better than" people who use credit cards frequently, etc.). It's just about different ways of looking at things and operating, and how these different ways can intersect with cultural structures and expectations in interesting ways.
Frankly while I realize some of what I've been able to do in terms of avoiding credit-related tomfoolery have been due to privilege of various kinds, I am also fairly convinced that if I'd been in a position during college to "figure out credit or starve", I'd probably have ended up starving. So I am not looking down on poorer people whose credit is maxed out just from trying to survive -- I am saying that for some of us, the whole system on which America seems to have constructed an economy is largely inaccessible no matter where we are socio-economically to begin with.
I was somewhat pleased to read this post because many things about credit have bothered me for ages.
Money is something I've always found fairly perplexing beyond a certain level of abstraction.
I understand money to the extent that I am capable of saving it, exchanging it for tangible goods and services, and donating it. I can pay bills on time (I'm actually practically OCD about that). Etc.
However, my sense of coherence drops off sharply the further I move away from the concept of trading objects or physical currency for other objects.
I didn't even have a credit card until I was 25, and I only got one then because I was tired of having to pay extra deposits on utilities, etc., due to "lack of a credit history".
I'd actually thought that I was doing well by not cultivating debt, and was fairly shocked to discover that instead of being considered financially responsible by the economy-at-large, I was essentially considered an economic nonperson.
One lady I turned in a credit application to was completely flabbergasted at the fact that I had no history at my age, and actually asked me how long I'd been in the country!
And the only reason I've ever used a credit card, since getting one, is for the sake of "building credit".
That is, having charged and paid back a number of credit card purchases, I no longer have Pacific Gas & Electric charging me an extra $150 (or thereabouts) if I move to a new dwelling on the basis that they don't know what kind of consumer I am.
I do not use credit cards as if they were “money”. Basically the only way I can wrap my mind around credit in the first place is to treat credit cards exactly like debit cards – that is, as “windows” into the actual money I actually have saved.
Whether due to neurology, upbringing, or a combination thereof, I simply find credit impossible to believe in. It all really just seems like a bunch of handwaving and pretending to me, and I don't really see the use of it.
I use it only grudgingly, and only barely. I've memorized the mechanical motions of using the card, of punching the numbers in, of writing the check and mailing it when the bill comes – but I might as well be cargo-culting the whole thing.
The article I linked above, entitled Mind Your Business, astutely notes that:
Due to the extreme importance of credit scores, Americans are strongly pressured to use credit cards and build up credit, at the cost of our privacy. Without a credit score, it’s very difficult to buy a house or car, and companies charge far more for insurance. Personal credit checks are now standard for renting apartments, buying houses and many other basic needs.
It's just nice to see this being corroborated by someone else, because most of the time I've found myself totally perplexed by some credit-related thing, I get responses like, “Well, that's just the way the system works, and if you don't play by it you will be the one losing out”.
I have to admit, though, the privacy angle hadn't really even occurred to me until I read the Philosecurity post.
I tend to be really naïve about that sort of thing anyway, which is something I am always fighting with. I was born totally unselfconscious (as in, as a child it was all my parents could do to keep me from running around and doing cartwheels with my underpants in full view) and it took me a while to learn what "privacy" meant in the first place, and even longer to grok that I had a right to it.
I've since learned a bit about how to recognize potentially dangerous and/or exploitative situations (my father helped me a lot with this growing up, and I also acquired some useful pattern-recognition algorithms via reading about scams, cults, and multilevel marketing), but I still don't always stop to consider how and where my privacy and personal data may be at risk. My debit card number got stolen a few years ago (resulting in a $1000+ Amazon purchase that I didn't make and ended up having to dispute with a pile of extremely irritating paperwork) and I don't know how that happened, but it was definitely a wake-up call and I subsequently rearranged how I was doing things.
So now I am both glad I've minimized my use of credit so far and wondering how I can avoid being at further risk in that regard. (And frankly I feel sometimes like the sheer onslaught of junk mail and “targeted advertising” I get ought to be considered criminally obnoxious.)
I really do hope not very many people end up actually hurt by the recession, but at the same time, I have to wonder if there's perhaps some hope that things will swing a bit back toward the concrete.
The degree to which credit is considered crucial for many important aspects of citizenship is ridiculous, not to mention the fact that it creates a number of accessibility barriers (especially for us cognitively-concrete folks) in addition to putting people's vulnerable data at great risk.
Disclaimer: This post is not meant to suggest moral superiority on my part (I don't think I'm "better than" people who use credit cards frequently, etc.). It's just about different ways of looking at things and operating, and how these different ways can intersect with cultural structures and expectations in interesting ways.
Frankly while I realize some of what I've been able to do in terms of avoiding credit-related tomfoolery have been due to privilege of various kinds, I am also fairly convinced that if I'd been in a position during college to "figure out credit or starve", I'd probably have ended up starving. So I am not looking down on poorer people whose credit is maxed out just from trying to survive -- I am saying that for some of us, the whole system on which America seems to have constructed an economy is largely inaccessible no matter where we are socio-economically to begin with.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Interesting Interview: (Former) Adware Author Speaks
During my recent epic battle to rid my computer of malware, a friend sent me a link to this interview with a former adware author, on the fascinating Philosecurity blog:
It really is truly amazing how much these adware/malware folks know about operating systems...Windows exploits in particular.
In any case, I've taken Mr. Adware's advice -- in the interview he was asked, "In your professional opinion, how can people avoid adware?", and he responded, "Um, run UNIX." My desktop is now completely Windows-free and happily running kubuntu Linux, and I am seriously loving it so far. It's quick to install, easy to set up, and so far has run very smoothly for everything I've wanted to do with it. So, yay!
S: Let’s back up a second. Why did you write adware?
M: I was utterly and grindingly broke for a little while. I started working on SPAM filtering software. That work got noticed by [Direct Revenue], who hired me to analyze their distribution chain. For a little while, the site through which all their ads ran was something like top 20 in Alexa. Monstrous, really huge traffic. Maybe 4 or 5 months into my tenure there, a virus came out that was disabling some of the machines that we had adware on. I said, “I know enough C that I could kick the virus off the machines,” and I did. They said “Wow, that was really cool. Why don’t you do that again?” Then I started kicking off other viruses, and they said, “That’s pretty cool that you kicked all the viruses off. Why don’t you kick the competitors off, too?”
It was funny. It really showed me the power of gradualism. It’s hard to get people to do something bad all in one big jump, but if you can cut it up into small enough pieces, you can get people to do almost anything.
S: Did you feel this was the gently sloping path to Hell?
M: Oh yeah! Absolutely. [ laughs ] I actually believe that if you sum up everything I did it comes out positive, if only because I kicked off an awful lot more adware than I installed.
S: What was Direct Revenue’s business model?
M: Their business model was that they would buy a screensaver from somebody, or develop it themselves. It would be some stupid thing like a guy who’s washing their screen. Looks like a window washer guy? They’d say “Hey, if you want this, install our adware and you can have it for free.” An astonishing number of people will do that.
It really is truly amazing how much these adware/malware folks know about operating systems...Windows exploits in particular.
In any case, I've taken Mr. Adware's advice -- in the interview he was asked, "In your professional opinion, how can people avoid adware?", and he responded, "Um, run UNIX." My desktop is now completely Windows-free and happily running kubuntu Linux, and I am seriously loving it so far. It's quick to install, easy to set up, and so far has run very smoothly for everything I've wanted to do with it. So, yay!
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Electronic Dreamscapes, Wild Realscapes
Video games in general have been a consistent presence in my life for as far back as I can remember. My father brought home an Atari 2600 in around 1980, and some of my earliest recollections involve padding into the TV room in footie pajamas and watching the Space Invaders screen for as long as I could get away with it. That early exposure meant that I couldn't see the notion of moving an avatar around on a screen using a joystick as anything but commonplace, though now I realize just what a big deal in-home systems like the Atari must have seemed to people who grew up thinking of "computers" as giant tube-filled rooms!
The first personal computer to inhabit the family home (an IBM PCjr) arrived when I was in kindergarten. The PCjr was very limited (in fact, it was purposely designed by IBM not to be upgradeable -- a decision that eventually doomed the PCjr to obscurity) but it came with several basic games and tools. I spent many an hour just banging out random text on the built-in simple word processor, and was utterly fascinated by Keyboard Adventure Puzzle.
As I've grown up, in particular I've tended to enjoy the sort of game that embeds the player's avatar in an immersive virtual environment. I've always had a strong "exploring" instinct, and was always trying to run off in the woods or crawl around in the attics and basements of houses I found myself in -- and certain types of games provide a similar sort of thrill.
From text adventures like Beyond Zork, to simple graphical adventures like King's Quest III, to the Mario and Zelda staples on the original Nintendo Entertainment System, to various modern games like Neverwinter Nights, I've experienced and enjoyed a tremendous range of exploratory-type games.
But -- I have to confess I find myself a bit flabbergasted when I come across people who apparently want to spend all their time in a virtual world, or who see that sort of thing as a good outcome for humanity. Furthermore that sort of attitude seems to go along with a sense that, well humans don't see everything there is to see anyway, so a workable simulated world would not even need to be "perfect".
When I play a video game that involves spelunking through virtual caves, traversing virtual valleys, and clambering up virtual mountains, I invariably have fun doing this. I can very easily "project" my sense of self into the game while I'm playing, and have found a lot of really impressive depth in some games.
However, the manner in which I appreciate this sort of thing is very much with the awareness that I am exploring someone's art.
Art is a fine thing, and a wonderful thing -- but it's not the same thing as actual reality. Art can say useful and beautiful things about reality -- but it can't substitute for it, any more than one person's perspective can substitute for the sum-total of all perspectives in the universe. As much as I like looking at art and having fun exploring people's creations, I would think it awful to be cut off from any direct experience of the things the art was meant to represent.
I don't see the ultimate fate of humanity as being some sort of digitized cyber-angel existence in which we all zip merrily around chips in the form of "information patterns" -- frankly I don't like to presume anything about the "ultimate fate of humanity", as there's nowhere near enough information to reasonably do so.
But in any case, I do know that I wouldn't want that kind of existence, not if I had the choice of continuing to have access to direct experience of undesigned wild reality that nobody took and filtered for me first.
A big part of what I find wonderful about existence has to do with being able to look at things in my own way, without anyone telling me what I am supposed to be seeing, or what is "important" about the environment I inhabit.
That is one huge thing I see missing in exhortations of the delights of VR -- the acknowledgment that no matter how well-rendered, it is still going to be a case of someone else designing everything you experience (I mean, I suppose you could come up with your own VR based on your own perceptual quirks, but that would still be a self-limiting experience if you stopped getting any information from the outside world beyond a certain point).
When such a situation is entered into voluntarily, as when I might enter an art exhibition or a well-made video game, I can take tremendous joy in exploring what someone else's creativity has produced. I can marvel at the technical aptitude of the artists, programmers, and others who worked to craft the things I'm exploring. But then I still want very much to be able to leave, close the door behind me, go outside, and look up at the actual, honest-to-goodness stars.
(Also see: Rudy Rucker's commentary along these lines.)
The first personal computer to inhabit the family home (an IBM PCjr) arrived when I was in kindergarten. The PCjr was very limited (in fact, it was purposely designed by IBM not to be upgradeable -- a decision that eventually doomed the PCjr to obscurity) but it came with several basic games and tools. I spent many an hour just banging out random text on the built-in simple word processor, and was utterly fascinated by Keyboard Adventure Puzzle.
As I've grown up, in particular I've tended to enjoy the sort of game that embeds the player's avatar in an immersive virtual environment. I've always had a strong "exploring" instinct, and was always trying to run off in the woods or crawl around in the attics and basements of houses I found myself in -- and certain types of games provide a similar sort of thrill.
From text adventures like Beyond Zork, to simple graphical adventures like King's Quest III, to the Mario and Zelda staples on the original Nintendo Entertainment System, to various modern games like Neverwinter Nights, I've experienced and enjoyed a tremendous range of exploratory-type games.
But -- I have to confess I find myself a bit flabbergasted when I come across people who apparently want to spend all their time in a virtual world, or who see that sort of thing as a good outcome for humanity. Furthermore that sort of attitude seems to go along with a sense that, well humans don't see everything there is to see anyway, so a workable simulated world would not even need to be "perfect".
When I play a video game that involves spelunking through virtual caves, traversing virtual valleys, and clambering up virtual mountains, I invariably have fun doing this. I can very easily "project" my sense of self into the game while I'm playing, and have found a lot of really impressive depth in some games.
However, the manner in which I appreciate this sort of thing is very much with the awareness that I am exploring someone's art.
Art is a fine thing, and a wonderful thing -- but it's not the same thing as actual reality. Art can say useful and beautiful things about reality -- but it can't substitute for it, any more than one person's perspective can substitute for the sum-total of all perspectives in the universe. As much as I like looking at art and having fun exploring people's creations, I would think it awful to be cut off from any direct experience of the things the art was meant to represent.
I don't see the ultimate fate of humanity as being some sort of digitized cyber-angel existence in which we all zip merrily around chips in the form of "information patterns" -- frankly I don't like to presume anything about the "ultimate fate of humanity", as there's nowhere near enough information to reasonably do so.
But in any case, I do know that I wouldn't want that kind of existence, not if I had the choice of continuing to have access to direct experience of undesigned wild reality that nobody took and filtered for me first.
A big part of what I find wonderful about existence has to do with being able to look at things in my own way, without anyone telling me what I am supposed to be seeing, or what is "important" about the environment I inhabit.
That is one huge thing I see missing in exhortations of the delights of VR -- the acknowledgment that no matter how well-rendered, it is still going to be a case of someone else designing everything you experience (I mean, I suppose you could come up with your own VR based on your own perceptual quirks, but that would still be a self-limiting experience if you stopped getting any information from the outside world beyond a certain point).
When such a situation is entered into voluntarily, as when I might enter an art exhibition or a well-made video game, I can take tremendous joy in exploring what someone else's creativity has produced. I can marvel at the technical aptitude of the artists, programmers, and others who worked to craft the things I'm exploring. But then I still want very much to be able to leave, close the door behind me, go outside, and look up at the actual, honest-to-goodness stars.
(Also see: Rudy Rucker's commentary along these lines.)
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Beware Malware from Blog Upgrade Tutorial/Template Sites
I know this is my third post on template and blog update related material recently, and that this sort of thing is probably less interesting than, say, naked mole-rats. But since several people did comment in ways suggesting they might be curious about altering or updating their blogs at some point, I figured this was a worthwhile warning to post.
Anyway, I am posting this from my laptop. This in itself is not a bad thing -- it's a very sweet laptop (a Dell Inspiron Mini 9 inch display, running Ubuntu Linux). But the reason I am not working on further template graphic stuff on my desktop at the moment is because my desktop (which runs Windows XP at the moment, though I am seriously considering going to Ubuntu / Kubuntu there) somehow got infected by some particularly vicious bits of malware.
I noticed something funny (not in the amusing sense) was going on last night, when my Google searches appeared to be going to bizarre and nonsensical links. That is, the search results LOOKED normal, but actually clicking on the link would result in some long message including the phrase "clickfraudmanager" in the URL bar. E.g., googling for "kitten" and clicking on a site described as having pictures of cute kittens on it would instead lead me to a random page of real estate listings or a review of Bob's Cheesy Chicken Fries.
I was also getting a lot of pop-under ads, weird little message dialogs telling me to install very sketchy-sounding "protection utilities", and other strange phenomena like folders opening of their own accord. When I realized that I was probably seeing evidence of a virus I quickly shut down my desktop and looked up "google redirect virus" on the laptop (Ubuntu seems to be pretty solidly unlikely to contract malware, though I certainly don't take that for granted). Sure enough, it turns out that there are a whole cadre of nasty hijacking programs whose primary symptom is the redirecting of search results to pages with ads on them.
I can't even fathom how or why anyone would, upon having their search results hijacked, think, "Oh boy, how wonderful for me to have been shown this ad for holistic dog food during my search for video driver updates! I am going to buy that product right away, yes siree!" But I suppose there's enough people actually clicking links in email for \/|agr4 and <|4Li5 such that it's not a total shock that this kind of thing is cost-effective for asshat exploit writers to persist in their tomfoolery.
I managed to clean out some of the worms with something called Spybot Search and Destroy, and I've been looking at the log outputs of another program called Hijack This (I got independent confirmation that these 2 programs were legit before I tried them). Alas, these programs have not yet led to a total solution -- I am not seeing so many popups, but my search results are still being hijacked.
So right now my desktop is attempting to uninstall one virus protection program (Norton, for which the subscription had lapsed anyway) in preparation for installing what is hopefully a better one (Kaspersky Internet Security -- recent Slashdot stories notwithstanding, what I read indicated it was one of the best you could get for dealing with rootkit nonsense, and I am pretty sure I have some of that going on).
I don't necessarily expect that to fully work (right now UNinstalling Norton is turning out to be a bit of a time-consuming nightmare), but hopefully it will at least stop anything new from coming in and causing trouble while I hunt down Files That Should Not Be There in system directories and such.
Oh, and the reason I figure this to be a caveat for people who might be looking to update their own blogs is because I am 99% certain I picked up the malware/viruses/badstuff on some site supposedly dedicated to helping people update blogger templates. There are a LOT of sketchy-looking sites that come up in searches for anything about blog updates and graphics tutorials and such.
I remember at one point last night when I'd opened a series of tabs following a search for something about changing background graphics on web pages having my computer suddenly slow way down and make noises like it was downloading something -- only I hadn't told it to download any files.
And I definitely did not click on any banner ads or popup buttons or dialogs telling me to install [sketchy-sounding software] -- I am pretty good at pattern recognition and sketchiness like that sticks out to me like a gigantic sore thumb. But apparently some of the newer exploits don't actually require you to be fooled -- they just require you to be browsing random websites on an inadequately-protected Windows PC. (For a while I was feeling really stupid for not having updated my Norton, but from what I've been about to find so far, the particular nasties I ended up with can get right through Norton even when it has been updated recently.)
So, here is the caveat: be very very careful browsing sites on blog template upgrades and such. For some reason that whole subject area seems to be an exploit and malware magnet -- I am guessing because of the weird financial stuff that has grown up around the ability to gain revenue through blog ads and search rankings and such.
I am guessing that if I'd had not only an up-to-date virus scanner, but also a few decent adware/malware detectors (Spybot, AdAware, etc.) installed and running regularly, this might not have happened. But in any case, I am definitely not going to take for granted that I will necessarily be able to avoid being invaded by malicious trojans and such just because I don't have a habit of clicking on "free casino slots and hot chicks" ads.
Anyway, I am posting this from my laptop. This in itself is not a bad thing -- it's a very sweet laptop (a Dell Inspiron Mini 9 inch display, running Ubuntu Linux). But the reason I am not working on further template graphic stuff on my desktop at the moment is because my desktop (which runs Windows XP at the moment, though I am seriously considering going to Ubuntu / Kubuntu there) somehow got infected by some particularly vicious bits of malware.
I noticed something funny (not in the amusing sense) was going on last night, when my Google searches appeared to be going to bizarre and nonsensical links. That is, the search results LOOKED normal, but actually clicking on the link would result in some long message including the phrase "clickfraudmanager" in the URL bar. E.g., googling for "kitten" and clicking on a site described as having pictures of cute kittens on it would instead lead me to a random page of real estate listings or a review of Bob's Cheesy Chicken Fries.
I was also getting a lot of pop-under ads, weird little message dialogs telling me to install very sketchy-sounding "protection utilities", and other strange phenomena like folders opening of their own accord. When I realized that I was probably seeing evidence of a virus I quickly shut down my desktop and looked up "google redirect virus" on the laptop (Ubuntu seems to be pretty solidly unlikely to contract malware, though I certainly don't take that for granted). Sure enough, it turns out that there are a whole cadre of nasty hijacking programs whose primary symptom is the redirecting of search results to pages with ads on them.
I can't even fathom how or why anyone would, upon having their search results hijacked, think, "Oh boy, how wonderful for me to have been shown this ad for holistic dog food during my search for video driver updates! I am going to buy that product right away, yes siree!" But I suppose there's enough people actually clicking links in email for \/|agr4 and <|4Li5 such that it's not a total shock that this kind of thing is cost-effective for asshat exploit writers to persist in their tomfoolery.
I managed to clean out some of the worms with something called Spybot Search and Destroy, and I've been looking at the log outputs of another program called Hijack This (I got independent confirmation that these 2 programs were legit before I tried them). Alas, these programs have not yet led to a total solution -- I am not seeing so many popups, but my search results are still being hijacked.
So right now my desktop is attempting to uninstall one virus protection program (Norton, for which the subscription had lapsed anyway) in preparation for installing what is hopefully a better one (Kaspersky Internet Security -- recent Slashdot stories notwithstanding, what I read indicated it was one of the best you could get for dealing with rootkit nonsense, and I am pretty sure I have some of that going on).
I don't necessarily expect that to fully work (right now UNinstalling Norton is turning out to be a bit of a time-consuming nightmare), but hopefully it will at least stop anything new from coming in and causing trouble while I hunt down Files That Should Not Be There in system directories and such.
Oh, and the reason I figure this to be a caveat for people who might be looking to update their own blogs is because I am 99% certain I picked up the malware/viruses/badstuff on some site supposedly dedicated to helping people update blogger templates. There are a LOT of sketchy-looking sites that come up in searches for anything about blog updates and graphics tutorials and such.
I remember at one point last night when I'd opened a series of tabs following a search for something about changing background graphics on web pages having my computer suddenly slow way down and make noises like it was downloading something -- only I hadn't told it to download any files.
And I definitely did not click on any banner ads or popup buttons or dialogs telling me to install [sketchy-sounding software] -- I am pretty good at pattern recognition and sketchiness like that sticks out to me like a gigantic sore thumb. But apparently some of the newer exploits don't actually require you to be fooled -- they just require you to be browsing random websites on an inadequately-protected Windows PC. (For a while I was feeling really stupid for not having updated my Norton, but from what I've been about to find so far, the particular nasties I ended up with can get right through Norton even when it has been updated recently.)
So, here is the caveat: be very very careful browsing sites on blog template upgrades and such. For some reason that whole subject area seems to be an exploit and malware magnet -- I am guessing because of the weird financial stuff that has grown up around the ability to gain revenue through blog ads and search rankings and such.
I am guessing that if I'd had not only an up-to-date virus scanner, but also a few decent adware/malware detectors (Spybot, AdAware, etc.) installed and running regularly, this might not have happened. But in any case, I am definitely not going to take for granted that I will necessarily be able to avoid being invaded by malicious trojans and such just because I don't have a habit of clicking on "free casino slots and hot chicks" ads.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Template Upgrade In Progress...
Well, I finally managed to find enough bits and pieces of information to create a 3-column template in blogger (yay!). I also learned how to upload one's own header image, so now I have a custom one that I put together in GIMP.
I'm updating my lists of links and working on changing a few more color elements, but the parts I thought were going to be really hard seem to be done for the most part already.
I use Firefox as my primary browser and so far it looks OK to me (in the sense of not having bizarre line wrapping behavior, elements overlapping each other when they shouldn't, things out of alignment, etc.).
So if anyone reading this is running IE or Opera or some other browser, and if anything on the page looks weird to you, please let me know. I am slowly bringing my HTML skills into the 21st century here so it may take some fiddling to get everything to show up right across the various platforms in use these days.
I'm updating my lists of links and working on changing a few more color elements, but the parts I thought were going to be really hard seem to be done for the most part already.
I use Firefox as my primary browser and so far it looks OK to me (in the sense of not having bizarre line wrapping behavior, elements overlapping each other when they shouldn't, things out of alignment, etc.).
So if anyone reading this is running IE or Opera or some other browser, and if anything on the page looks weird to you, please let me know. I am slowly bringing my HTML skills into the 21st century here so it may take some fiddling to get everything to show up right across the various platforms in use these days.
Monday, February 02, 2009
If You Saw Me On The BBC...
In 2007 I was interviewed for the BBC special Visions of the Future.
This interview happened after some people from the BBC sent me a series of e-mails asking if I would be interested in appearing in the "Biotech Revolution" episode of Visions.
Footage was taken in May 2007, and the series premiered in the UK in November 2007. During the two minutes that comprised my interview, I speculated about the future of human life with physicist Michio Kaku.
Anyway, the reason I wanted to write this was to correct some mistaken impressions people could get of me from that interview. I was sort of dismayed to see when the final cut appeared that I was explicitly identified as, not only a "transhumanist", but "one of transhumanism's most vociferous proponents". (I can barely even watch the segment I was in because I cringe so much at hearing that part).
Mind you, I did self-identify as a transhumanist for a while (and I don't deny this or have any desire or reason to; people are allowed to change their minds about things), but that was before I realized the extent of the baggage associated with that term. And when I did realize that, I disassociated myself from that identification.
I was under the initial impression that "transhumanist" was just a convenient word to describe "science nerd who likes robots and is interested in longevity and other biotechnological topics". However, I eventually discovered that the term was serving to obfuscate more than clarify what I actually thought. So I dis-identified myself from it. That's all. Nothing dramatic about it, just a personal choice based on the acquisition of information.
I don't regret doing the BBC interview, and certainly, getting to talk with Michio Kaku was amazingly cool. The BBC people I had contact with were all really nice and respectful, and did not seem at all like they were trying to stage a "wow look at these Californian freaks!" spectacle.
But I wish I'd had the presence of mind at the time, considering the doubts I was most definitely having about my subcultural associations, to insist that I be referred to on my own terms and not on the terms of "transhumanism". You most definitely do not need to identify as a transhumanist to have valid opinions and thoughts on the direction of humanity given the ways in which we are choosing to modify (or not modify) ourselves and our environment.
And if I could go back and change anything about my interactions with the BBC, and my subsequent interview, it would be to specifically disavow the notion that anyone has to be a "member" of anything (other than the worldwide community of sentient life forms) to comment on pressing present and near-future issues we face.
- Anne Corwin
February, 2009
This interview happened after some people from the BBC sent me a series of e-mails asking if I would be interested in appearing in the "Biotech Revolution" episode of Visions.
Footage was taken in May 2007, and the series premiered in the UK in November 2007. During the two minutes that comprised my interview, I speculated about the future of human life with physicist Michio Kaku.
Anyway, the reason I wanted to write this was to correct some mistaken impressions people could get of me from that interview. I was sort of dismayed to see when the final cut appeared that I was explicitly identified as, not only a "transhumanist", but "one of transhumanism's most vociferous proponents". (I can barely even watch the segment I was in because I cringe so much at hearing that part).
Mind you, I did self-identify as a transhumanist for a while (and I don't deny this or have any desire or reason to; people are allowed to change their minds about things), but that was before I realized the extent of the baggage associated with that term. And when I did realize that, I disassociated myself from that identification.
I was under the initial impression that "transhumanist" was just a convenient word to describe "science nerd who likes robots and is interested in longevity and other biotechnological topics". However, I eventually discovered that the term was serving to obfuscate more than clarify what I actually thought. So I dis-identified myself from it. That's all. Nothing dramatic about it, just a personal choice based on the acquisition of information.
I don't regret doing the BBC interview, and certainly, getting to talk with Michio Kaku was amazingly cool. The BBC people I had contact with were all really nice and respectful, and did not seem at all like they were trying to stage a "wow look at these Californian freaks!" spectacle.
But I wish I'd had the presence of mind at the time, considering the doubts I was most definitely having about my subcultural associations, to insist that I be referred to on my own terms and not on the terms of "transhumanism". You most definitely do not need to identify as a transhumanist to have valid opinions and thoughts on the direction of humanity given the ways in which we are choosing to modify (or not modify) ourselves and our environment.
And if I could go back and change anything about my interactions with the BBC, and my subsequent interview, it would be to specifically disavow the notion that anyone has to be a "member" of anything (other than the worldwide community of sentient life forms) to comment on pressing present and near-future issues we face.
- Anne Corwin
February, 2009
Sunday, February 01, 2009
And Now For Something Refreshing
Just because, a video of Toby (who has most definitely grown from Kitten to full-fledged Cat over the past few months) playing with the water cooler.
EDIT: Toby is a "she". We thought she was a boy initially but upon her first trip to the vet, we were informed otherwise. She was found in the backyard of my partner Matt's parents, who live nearby, back in June 2008.
EDIT: Toby is a "she". We thought she was a boy initially but upon her first trip to the vet, we were informed otherwise. She was found in the backyard of my partner Matt's parents, who live nearby, back in June 2008.
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