free variable

I showed up at my polling place yesterday afternoon to choose among my unpalatable alternatives for this round¹, only to find out that the polling workers did not believe I was registered to vote.

I found this state of affairs very odd. I have lived exclusively at one address since the summer of 2000 and have voted in every national, regional, and local election with (I believe) only one exception since then. It was doubly strange, since Andrea’s name was on the list.

I mentioned these facts to the polling workers, who were well-meaning but uniformly confused. They offered to let me register at the poll and vote, which I did. However, the whole experience was rather unsettling. Why would my name have been removed from a list of voters in my ward unless it were on a voter list elsewhere? Indeed, I wonder how many times “I” voted yesterday. (One can register to vote in Wisconsin with no proof of identity, as long as one has the cooperation of a registered voter.) I also wonder how many people found themselves in a similar situation and, faced with long lines and the prospect of re-registering, decided to skip voting.

I called the Wisconsin Secretary of State’s office and asked for an explanation. Predictably, they were swamped. However, the election worker I spoke with graciously offered to contact me once they’ve figured out what happened to my registration. We’ll see, I guess.

¹ As far as I can tell, there is something about politics in this state that renders office-seekers from both parties uniquely skilled at insulting the intelligence of the electorate. I can’t ever recall so many unctuous, demagogic, and irrational campaign ads appearing in the course of a midterm election — and I don’t watch that much TV.

Apparently, the perennial Madison Halloween rioting was rather subdued last weekend. I’m sure that this is in no small part due to an email from the Dean’s office to all Wisconsin students (yes, even grad students) that contained a great deal of common-sense advice: don’t get drunk in public, stay with friends, obey instructions from the police, etc. While I am a little saddened that people who are old enough to vote apparently need such reminders, I am no longer surprised.

However, the real gem of the note was the following paragraph:

Finally, remember that the anonymity you may feel from wearing a mask or costume does not negate your rights or responsibilities as a Madison resident or a UW-Madison student.

This is good advice for the hordes of drunken undergrads, and it is equally good advice for people who plan to be characters in a comic opera, a farce, or in any other staged drama that does not end in death, apocalypse, or paralyzing endemic ennui. Such people are also well-advised to back out of any wedding in which they or any other participant is masked; they should also remember that the joke is likely to be on the tenor.

Indeed, Thomas has no functional teeth yet.

If the election were held today, I wouldn’t tell you how I planned to vote, just as I am not telling you how I plan to vote even though the election shall not be held today. We have a secret ballot for a reason. Why do you insist that I voluntarily waive such privacy? Put yourself in my shoes: sure, I can appreciate it that you believe in what you’re doing. You could be watching football or taking a nap (both of which I was doing, to some extent, until your most recent visit), but instead you’re going from door to door bothering people.

If some random stranger showed up at your door and started interrogating you about various candidates and policy points, how would you feel? Maybe it would make your day to identify an ideological comrade, or fill you with moral superiority at the sight of someone who espoused positions you found disagreeable. Perhaps you would love telling this person all of your deepest desires for the legislative and executive branches of Wisconsin government, and enjoying an informative presentation about how you could get more involved. Please appreciate, as foreign to you as this may seem, that I would not. Indeed, I wouldn’t even tell you what I had for breakfast.

Thank you for your consideration,
Will Benton

Note to non-prosletyzing readers: please allow me to recommend the breakfast burrito at Pasqual’s Salsaria. I’ll be stopping by your door later to ask you whether, if brunch were held today, you’d order one or not.

I’m currently listening to Chroralvorspiel BWV 599: “Nun komm’, der Heiden Heiland” (Bearb. Busoni) from the album “Dinu Lipatti: Bach, Mozart, Scarlatti, Schubert” by Dinu Lipatti

I hope to return to posting serious material soon. Until then:

I stumbled upon this article at pitchforkmedia.com today; it features a shockingly naïve assessment of the implications of technology:

In fact, all tech is “neat.” Maybe we can see some ill effects on the horizon– would federal endorsement of the destruction of embryos for stem cell research open the door to greater exploitation of humanity down the road? Can iPods damage your hearing?– but we only throw in the storm clouds for effect, to give the story some yang and make it more engaging. In the end, science is good, and progress is inevitable– so there’s no way that the technology we’re covering could be anything but good.

Man, that’s so ’94 — 1794, that is. Even if we were to accept a view of science and technology as merely oiling the wheel of limitless progress, the writer could have picked better examples. A quick examination of recent history reveals that only two things are “inevitable” vis-a-vis human “progress:” the accumulation of increasingly creative and novel ways to exploit humanity (especially the most vulnerable humans) will proceed unchecked and the relentless pursuit by pop recording engineers of the elusive “zero dynamic range” will continue until everyone is deaf, iPods or not.

Read the rest of this entry »

I think that this speaks for itself.

A package of synthetic fish bait, labeled “THE WORM THAT THINKS IT’S ALIVE!”

I don’t know that I’ve ever seen sporting-goods advertising with such confusing metaphysical and ontological implications. Indeed, a slogan that bests this one (with, of course, similar economy of prose) would be truly remarkable.

We asked W.T. Benton a simple question: “Thomas, what do you think of the new Lutheran hymnals?” His response was immediate, direct, and unambiguous.

Did I mention that Andrea and I had a kid last week?

In other news, a reader who probably wishes to remain anonymous thinks that “Dub tea” is a lame nickname. Feel free to leave your suggested nicknames or diminutives for little Thomas in the comments; be aware that Andrea is (almost violently) opposed to “Tommy.”

I deliberately don’t post a lot about my personal life on this site, but this is one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen:

Consider this a “happy birthday” to my son, William Thomas Benton, who is about six hours old now. Hopefully he inherits all of the qualities of his wholly commendable mother and none of the shortcomings of his father. (For those of you who are concerned about the vitals: He weighs eight pounds and three ounces, and is about twenty inches long. The first music he heard was Neander’s text “Lobe den Herren” — to Nicolai’s tune, of course — which I sang him as a lullaby about thirty minutes after birth.)

I have no idea how I managed to miss this:

Long-time readers may remember my favorite party game, “Whack-an-enthymeme”. The producers of “Who wants to be a millionaire?” (one of my least-favorite game shows) apparently have decided to let us play my game at home while playing their game at home. By felicitous coincidence, I managed to notice an opportunity for WaE on the TV and snap a picture:

It’s a real pity for would-be slave owners that the Emancipation Proclamation is merely a “dead document”, robbed of its opportunity to evolve and fixed in time with the precise meaning Lincoln intended. However, the absence of other “living documents” only makes the Constitution all the more remarkable. Indeed, I wish I could find the exact incantation that the Framers used to animate the Constitution — if I could write some technical papers with “meaning that [could] evolve over time”, I could really stay on top of my field!

Millions of Americans (including me, any minute now) trust their offspring to Graco car seats, strollers, etc. I’m sure you understand, then, that this label makes me extremely uneasy:

While I’m sure there is no documented causal link between apostrophe abuse and design or engineering failure, there is probably a correlation.

Judging from an e-mail I received today, Apple’s marketing department must know something that I don’t about my research program:

If only.

It wouldn’t be hard to spend your time doing nothing but pointing out idiotic things people say about religion and public life. However, it’s still admirable when people do it well. Stuart Buck and Martin Peretz have each knocked a softball out of the park recently. Nice.

McGrath contra Dennett

Alister McGrath is one of my intellectual heroes. Last month, Prof. McGrath gave a speech to the Royal Society of Arts concerning Daniel Dennett’s new book about religion. The text of the speech is available as a PDF and is well-worth reading. As usual, McGrath is respectful of his opponents and remains particularly skilled at diagnosing rhetorical chicanery. (One hopes that the stupid “meme” concept will die soon.)

More on the “Gospel of Judas”

Mollie Ziegler at GetReligion has issued a delightful tirade about the “Gospel of Judas” non-story story. (Just as I’d hoped!) Richard John Neuhaus, writing at the First Things blog, treats the story from a framework of what he identifies as a broader pattern of stories — apparently timed to the church year — that seek to debunk traditional Christianity.

I’m currently listening to “Leb wohl, du kühnes, herrliches Kind! (Wotan – Die Walküre Act III Sc.3) from the album ”Bryn Terfel -Wagner, Abbado, Berlin Phil. 2000, 2001“ by Bryn Terfel

Apparently, it’s possible to get a doctorate in “Islamic philosophy” without being able to recognize a faulty syllogism (or even a few infelicitously chained together). I know this because, according to this MEMRI dispatch, Iranian professor Hasan Bolkhari has a doctorate in “Islamic philosophy,” and he makes perhaps the most ridiculous sequence of claims I’ve seen in a long time. I’d say that Bolkhari handily defeats even “Spurious George” (not his real name), who was a clueless philosophy student I knew as an undergrad and who represents my benchmark for utter rhetorical incoherence.

I won’t bother attempting to describe the argument; it’s too warped. You’ll have to read it yourself, but be warned that Bolkhari’s sentiments are thoroughly appalling. Also remember that Tom and Jerry cartoons were produced by Warner Bros.

I’m currently listening to Acroyear2 from the album “LP5” by Autechre

Apparently, I’ve been wasting my time becoming a “programming language/compiler expert” when I could have been researching the history of garden gnomes. (Thanks for the link, Dad.)

Make posts about a fellow’s attempt to build an Organum mathematicum; the maker describes it as “a 17th century device intended to be used by non-musicians to compose church music.”

The joke almost writes itself, but I wonder if Marty Haugen has one.

“When we got it open, he didn’t want to come out,” Fire Chief Dan Wilson said Tuesday. “One of my firefighters had to reach inside and get him. He was happy in there.”

Something to avoid allowing your kid to do, from Austin, MN (the SPAM capital of the world).

[via daddytypes]

I am a little embarrassed to admit that I almost impulse-bought two font packages just now: under consideration were Bembo and Basic Commercial. Fortunately, common sense prevailed. (I can almost taste the certain domestic discord that would have ensued otherwise. Of course, fonts are not — to put it mildly — priced for most end-users.)

Also perhaps of note: Apple’s Pages application (at least, the not-particularly-contemporary version I own) saves document templates as XML files. These can be upwards of 300 kilobytes, but the document is all on one line. (There’s a stress-test for your favorite text editor.)

I’m currently listening to Ha! Welch’ ein Augenblick! from the album “Fidelio – Klemperer. Ludwig, Vickers, Frick, Berry, Hallstein, Unger, Crass” by Ludwig van Beethoven

Example items I saw on the clearance rack at Borders a couple of weeks ago (nothing was listed for more than $1):

• Many CD recordings, each of which looked uniformly unappealing, but none of which looked to be bad in a notably hilarious way. There were not a few Portuguese versions of dismal 90s “alternative rock” hits as well as a CD single by someone named “DJ Ötzi” that was billed as “the hit song from Kangaroo Jack.”
• A dog-eared and tattered paperback, about the size of a small legal notebook, entitled The Mom and Dad Pad: A Divorce Communication Tool. (One feels a sense of hopeful relief that such an item is remaindered.)
• A three-ring view binder, with a cover insert that pictured alpacas in various domestic- and farm-animal situations (e.g. being shorn, frolicking with children). The cover had the look of something printed on a budget inkjet printer from late last century and proclaimed this binder as “an introduction to the alpaca lifestyle” or something similar. This was absolutely the prize of the lot.

It’s my egg bread

There was a period of about six months last year when it was impossible to visit the iTunes Music Store without seeing an ad encouraging the purchase of Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl.” I had not heard the song before and only heard it by accident after the rampant iTunes promotion ceased. After hearing it, I can say with confidence that it should be on the short list for “worst pop song of the aughts.” DJ BC’s klezmer-Stefani mashup “Challaback Girl” (download mp3s here) does not strictly improve on the song, as it retains Stefani’s vapid lyrics and whiny delivery, but at least it isn’t worse. (Unfortunately, the title is more amusing than the execution.)

For your amusement

Here’s a piece of my FAWM 2006 detritusoutput that isn’t going to be posted on audio.willbenton.com, mainly because it’s fairly “unserious.” (For those playing along at home, this means “easier to listen to.”) It’s only about ten hand-claps away from being “crunk,” and the lyrics are entirely derived from samples of a public-domain martial arts movie: “He must think he’s Bruce Lee.”

The birthday cycle

For the last four years, I have said to myself “I am never doing this again” about twenty-four hours before my birthday party, which typically involves preparing a lot of food. I manage to almost completely forget this sentiment about an hour before people start arriving; by fifty weeks’ hence I have absolutely no recollection of any bad feelings whatsoever and am in full fever pitch planning again. I’ll post (vegan and pork) taco recipes soon.

The Isthmus, Madison’s local “alternative weekly,” advertises heavily on local buses. These ads are simple: they feature a quote from some writer (generally one whose name is suitable for dropping in alternative-weekly-readership circles, not necessarily one who has actually contributed prose to the publication) and the paper’s logo.

I have been meaning to post about one of these quotes for some time:

I believe that ignorance is the root of all evil. And that no one knows the truth.

–Molly Ivins

I’m stuck as to how to read this claim. Is it merely expressing garden-variety philosophical skepticism? (Note how this claim, while barely-coherent, dances on the brink of being self-contradictory.) Of course, skepticism has its own problems: how can we treat the claim that no one knows the truth except for the truth contained in “no one knows the truth?”

Is Ivins stating that humans are all inherently evil due to their failure to know the truth? Does original underdetermination predate original sin? (Actually, if we’re going to be technical about it, the root of all human evil comes from a desire for knowledge, not from ignorance.) Are those humans who are ignorant of their own ignorance more evil? Does believing that you know the truth, or that truth is knowable, make one evil?

If ignorance is the root of all evil, then the cure for evil (or proto-evil) is knowledge. (This assumes that we can, as a special case, know the truth that evil is something to be avoided.) Since knowledge is “justified true belief,” we can only “know” things that are true. (You can’t “know” a falsehood.) But no one knows the truth! Ms. Ivins seems to be at least dooming any possibility for human progress; at worst, she is deliberately trying to increase ignorance, torturing her readers with an apparently incoherent claim.

It is possible that the Isthmus ad takes this seemingly nonsensical quote out of context, and Ivins is not as confused as she appears. (She may, of course, have been kidding, or responding to a challenge to produce an overtly goofy claim.) Perhaps combining two sentiments — “ignorance is bad” and “universal (‘the’) truth is unknowable” — that they expect their readers to share is a good way to engender goodwill in the hearts of not-particularly-thoughtful passers-by, and consistency be damned. However, the fact that such a quote passed Ivins’ lips in any context is troubling, given the number of people who appear to take her seriously. (More on this shortly.)

Further evidence indicates that, in fact, the Isthmus staff may have little regard for consistency; another bus ad drops the following lyrical bomb:

Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.

–Aldous Huxley

I’m going to “know the truth?” Well, I guess I shouldn’t have believed that last Isthmus ad that told me that I couldn’t handle didn’t know the truth. Aldous, meet Molly. You two shall have a bit to discuss.

There are two possibilities here: either the Isthmus ad agency staffers are as intellectually careless as the potential readers that they expect to impress with the Ivins quote, or the agency embraces the Ivins quote both for truth and for meta-truth: Huxley is free to express his truth about truths (parameterized by his historical context, experiences, and subjective impressions), and Ivins is free to express hers. Neither, however, has “the” truth.

(As an ironic aside: While preparing this post, I noticed that the Isthmus motto is “the shortest distance between two points of view.” Indeed, the range of editorial content on offer in alternative weeklies seems to point to a simple way to shrink the distance between various opinions. There is a broader range of meta-truths on the Isthmus‘ ads than there is of claims in the Isthmus‘ actual pages.)

If I were searching for meta-truth and had to choose which of these to believe, it wouldn’t be too hard. Neither is particularly one of my intellectual heroes (although I do remember Brave New World fondly every time I get a spam message advertising “soma”), but Ivins represents what I regard as the worst and most toxic strain in American popular discourse. Like her fellow malignant charlatans from across the US political spectrum — such as Ann Coulter, Maureen Dowd, Rush Limbaugh, Al Franken, and Bill O’Reilly — Ivins trades in easy generalities, cheap point-scoring, rhetorical chicanery, and preaching to the converted. Such a brand of politics-as-entertainment replaces arguments with one liners, content with silliness, and self-examination with snarling assault on the other.

I’m sure that politics-as-entertainment is lucrative, but at what price? It serves merely to foment groupthink and cement artificial divisions. Even worse, its ubiquity encourages people to believe (1) that politics is entertaining and (2) that their particular set of bumper stickers are actually meaningful. (Independently of these stickers’ content, they aren’t.)

I’m currently listening to Appetite for Disctruction from the album “Appetite for Disctruction” by Funkstörung

Dave Beck is a Madison artist whose undergraduate career overlapped with mine at St. Olaf. Dave is a talented artist and a genuinely good guy. Furthermore, he bears the dubious distinction of being the only person in the world with whom I’ve drunk warm beer between classes at the Leucorea.

I was surprised to see that Dave has recently been cease-and-desisted by Rockstar Games for an online art installation that samples a filmed loop from a Rockstar title. More about the piece is available from Madison’s “alternative weekly,” the Isthmus.

One wonders precisely how “alternative” the Isthmus is in relation to the Madison area, and in what sense, if any, the “alternative weekly” appellation is warranted.

I don’t know whether or not Dave could claim that his work constituted satire (and, more importantly, fair use); since his stated target is rather broader than Rockstar Games, such an argument seems less plausible. In any case, here’s hoping this doesn’t wind up in a big mess for him.

I’m currently listening to Time: The Donuts of the Heart from the album “Donuts” by J Dilla aka Jay Dee

Technorati Tags: beck, rockstar

Make links to these instructions for making a 3d stencil. The article also mentions SketchUp design software, which looks cool but pricey. (Once services like BigBlueSaw are working in 3d, I’ll be right on the design-software bandwagon, though.)