Good article on Japan

Dahr Jamail has written a great article on the situation in Japan. It's over at Al Jazeera English and it's called "'No safe levels' of radiation in Japan". It's a comprehensive article -- the kind we should be seeing everywhere but aren't. American media is dead in the head about this. Stop with the war porn -- tell us what's going on in Japan!

Anyway, great piece. Read it if you've got the time.

My Times paywall experience

Seems like a clunky paywall to me. So far, it's acted like an ineffective, demented, old man.

Many days ago, a message popped up while I was on the New York Times web site. It said I had five more free stories to read -- and then I'd have to haul out my wallet.

About 30 stories later, yesterday, it told me I had four more free stories to read -- and then I'd really be in trouble.

I've been clicking on their stories all day without a peep from their end. Neat paywall they've got. What's your experience been?

UPDATE: The Times hive-mind finally decided I'd read enough for free. However, I was ready for them. I had already downloaded a nice little "bookmarklet" that cuts right through the paywall and lets you read whatever you'd like. Clicked it and I was in. Still reading the Times for free. 

Soft hands and a nice pat on the butt

As the title of today's post implies, baseball's language takes many forms -- and it definitely includes those pats on the butt. Since baseball is physical its no surprise that its language is, too. We see this language happen live on our screen in every game. And of course, we learn the language of baseball from our trusty baseball announcers. Let's listen in and see what they say. There's almost always a physical angle to it.

When a player reaches down to scoop up a low ball -- and his hand just misses it, coming up empty -- the announcer will often say, "He couldn't get a handle on it." I love that. As if the ball is a little suitcase with a handy feature on top -- a very physical image.

"Oh! What a tough error!" This is what announcers say when the ball is very hard to catch and the fielder understandably misses it -- yet it gets called an error by the baseball gods. The error is tough in the same way it's tough when a child gets pushed over by a bully. A good kid like him didn't deserve that kind of treatment. And it's also about the harshness of the call. To judge this very-hard-to-catch ball as something that should definitely have been caught is the definition of being tough. It's heartless. And with all the struggle this implies, it's physical. Just ask the player who feels like he was punched in the gut by the call.

And let's get down to it. What's with all those pats on the butt? They're obviously a big part of baseball's language because you see them in every game. I'd be curious to learn how readers view this behavior. What do you think is being passed from one player to another by a pat on the butt? And why choose the butt to pat? Arms aren't good enough? I ask these things, but for me there's no mystery to it. A pat on the butt inevitably harkens back to childhood. It's what you do with a toddler or pre-toddler: you pat him on the butt as a sign of approval and support. That's exactly how I see baseball's pats. And yes, there is an infantile aspect to the behavior.

Soft hands is a baseball phrase I love. It's what they say about a player who can catch anything they throw at him: he's got soft hands. It's as if the ball falls easily into the comfortable folds of his sainted palms and blessed fingers. You gotta have soft hands to be a Gold Glover.

Sometimes a pitcher is having a great day and hitting all his "targets", i.e., the mitt the catcher holds up. At those times the announcers say the pitcher is really commanding his sinking fastball (or slider or whatever). I like the use of the word command here. It's a macho, king-of-the-mountain word as if the balls are his minions and he has directed them to follow his every manly order. He is the lord of all things; he has command.

And how about the way the catcher frames the ball for the home base umpire by turning into a statue once he catches it? "See, Mr. Umpire -- it was a strike! Really!" Framing is such a good term for this. The catcher is literally snatching a moment in time and freezing it into a 3D photo. He physically frames a version of reality (his version) for the ump by holding his position.

But of course, in many instances the catcher is trying to deceive the umpire -- because deception is built into baseball. Stay tuned. Baseball's language of deception is coming soon . . . and off in the distance, I can dimly see the post after that . . . why, yes I can see it now . . it's . . . the language of baseball voodoo! All this coming soon to a blog near you! Be still, your heart.

Work update

Short version: there hasn't been any. Longer version: I got sick last weekend with a killer virus and floated through my week, doing anything (like blogging or watching baseball) to distract me from how I felt. I have this idea that I shouldn't work on my fiction when I'm sick. It feels like I haven't got all my artistic smarts up and running. I worry that I might ruin something, so I avoid writing or editing.

In this instance, the time off segued nicely with my mental work. The last thing I did was write the synopsis and cover letter for Xmas Carol. Then I got sick and began to float through my days. On Monday, I'll return to that work. But in the interim, though I haven't read the synopsis, I reworked it in my head. Rather than read it on Monday, I'm going to sit down and do it a very different way. Then I'll have two synopses. Surely, between them I'll find happiness.

So that's the plan. And beginning Monday, posting may be light for a while. I need to get some real work done. But never fear, I'll get something up fairly often and I'll surely return to heavy posting soon. In the meantime, tune in tomorrow. Fun post coming up.

Oh, and Carmine read chapter 1 of Xmas Carol and said he loved it. There's nothing like positive reader reactions. Since the book only gets better after the first chapter, I think I've garnered another fan for the book. Hooray!

It's not about who has the most toys

Recently I caught up with friends from bygone days and was shocked when they immediately told me about their possessions. It's like they were saying, "this is my life." It isn't, you know.

What's important is how you feel. That's the story, not whether you managed to buy something expensive in your travels. Where did your life take you? After all the twists and turns, did you end up happy, sad, resentful, broken, undaunted? Are you proud of your life?

Much to my surprise, at 63 I'm the happiest guy in the world. That's the news I have for my old friends: "Hey, I ended up happy!"

As for money, I'm still a hippie about it. It seems foolish to me. I don't have any, don't want any, and have never spent one hour thinking about money in my whole life. I've never balanced my checkbook -- I just go by feel. I also don't want many things so I'm easy to please. I seem out of step with others on this topic but I'll never change. Money is boring.

Yesterday morning I saw a poll on CNN Money:

When will you become a millionaire? 

1. In five years
2. Ten years from now
3. In twenty years
4. Already am one
5. Never

They should have added another choice: "6. Don't care." We hippies have no respect for money, none at all. Isn't happiness and feeling good about your life vastly more important than money? Just saying.

Japan today -- a need for flyash?

Saw this in the news today:

Japan has also ordered two giant pumps, typically used for spraying concrete, from the U.S. They are being retrofitted to spray water first, according to Kelly Blickle, a spokeswoman at Putzmeister America Inc. in Wisconsin. At least one similar pump is already in operation at the plant.

They should consider putting flyash into the mix somehow -- perhaps by spraying the entire thing with flyash after the concrete is laid down. But do they know this? It's breaking news in science, which means they may not have heard of flyash's usefulness in maintaining concrete structures.

So much information flies across the internet every second, but getting that information to the right people at the right time is another matter entirely. I hope they at least consider how flyash might assist their efforts to cover the reactors in long-lasting concrete.

What comes after consciousness?

On Sean Carroll's blog, Cosmic Variance, he posted an article about consciousness and at one point asked the most interesting question: "What's next after consciousness?"

In our universe, one of the most surprising things is emergent behavior. It's a term science uses to describe something complex and completely unexpected emerging from simple inputs. In other words, looking at the ingredients, you'd never have thought you'd see this behavior.

Consciousness is emergent behavior. Looking at brains and what they're made of, and the tasks that brains were built by evolution to accomplish, you'd never have suspected that consciousness would arise. The ingredients are wet, gooey brains, made of simple substances -- not the sort of substrate you'd think could produce a Mozart or an Einstein. Consciousness is emergent behavior, writ large.

So the question Sean poses is: what emergent behavior will come next? We ourselves are the fertile ground here. Will we create something exponentially greater than ourselves? Will we join with our technology in a way that so changes what we fundamentally are that we can't even imagine the result? Will this new being possess something beyond consciousness? What would that be?

It's an intriguing question. I'm glad Sean brought it up and I've already tucked away a short story idea based on it. And book 3 of The Worlds grapples with just such an idea. To my mind, it's the most exciting question we can ask.