Ghosts

My continuing immersion in the seemingly-bottomless project of scanning negatives from former lives probably sensitizes me to ruminations on the past. This bit, the opening sentences of John Lahr’s review of J.M. Barrie and Tom Stoppard plays seems to have been written with my own obsessions in mind:

Can we agree that we’re all haunted? The ghost world is part of our world. We carry within us the good and the bad, the spoken and the unspoken imperatives of our missing loved ones. As children, we are dreamed up by our parents; as adults, when our parents die we dream them up in turn. Conversations rarely stop at the grave.
(New Yorker March 5 2007 pg 92)

Many of the people in the ghost-images I’m rediscovering are lost in the present (that is, I’ve lost track of them –they probably sail on, and now and again I’m able to reconnect with their current incarnations), but they’re certainly as real to me now, seen via Photoshop and Flickr, as they were then. Maybe even realer.

links for 2007-03-01

I did not know that

Jess Nevins at No Fear of the Future takes us through various historical Lords of the Grain and lands with both feet on Gustav Vasa, and (in a tale that diverges into lutefisk, takes in the surprising [albeit alleged] origins of Madame du Barry’s passion for chocolate, and Diderot’s bon mot that “the potato is righly held responsible for flatulence. But what is flatulence to the vigorous organs of peasants and workers?”) links to a Swedish cuisine summary that includes this delightful factoid:

In one year people all over the world in 40 countries buy 60 000 tons crisp bread. Sweden is the biggest consumer and every Swede consumes 4 kilos of crisp bread every year.

I’m one of the addicts of knäckebröd, plowing through a few cases of the stuff every year (a case of Siljans has 14 units, each with 6 rounds). Great all by itself, even better with cheese or smoked salmon…

Wozniak interview

Over at Jason Scott’s ASCII weblog there’s a transcript of a Coast to Coast radio interview with Steve Wozniak from April 2006. It’s an interesting read on several grounds, but especially for some things it says about Education, and the contexts of family support and teachers and one’s own activities. A few juicy snippets:

Woz: …I lived with a bunch of kids that had engineers for parents. So they had electronic parts around the house. They had parents that could teach us how things worked and how to hook up some of the parts to get some interesting things to happen

…Actually, my whole technical evolution was very much accidents. It was not planned by myself. There were no classes, there were no books, it was all accidental. I would stumble into journals. I would stumble into magazines. I found that was what my interest was. You know what your interest is, and not everybody comes up with the same. And it’s accidentally inspired maybe by the fun I had with my electronics friends I had in the neighborhood… I was one of the math/science stars of the school and we would get the awards and all that, but I was also in electronics class. We had a great electronics class in our high school and the teacher realized that I knew it all and I was just playing pranks and wiring other people’s radios to blow up if they asked me for help…

…So, the teacher said, “You know you’re good at giving pranks.” So he arranged for some help. This is very unusual when a teacher sees a student that could be helped with a lot of stuff that’s not in the school. A lot of teachers will say, “You know what, the education is here in this school and these books and my class,” and that’s all we take responsibility for…

…what I would do is drive up with a friend of mine, Alan Baum, up to Stanford Linear Accelerator Center. And we’d go there on a Sunday. And the reason we’d go there is there’s a lot of smart people that work at Stanford Linear Accelerator Center and wherever smart people work there’s open doors. So, we would actually drive to the main building and we’d walk up some stairs and try some doors and eventually we’d find a door open from the outside, and we’d go in. And they had a computer library in there, a technical library. I found computer manuals and there were little cards where you could fill out your name and address and they would send you a computer manual. Sylvania sent me manuals to their computers, …Hewlett Packard would send me manuals to their computers. Digital Equipment would send me theirs. A company started up called Data General and they sent me theirs.

…Fill out the cards, and we’ll send you a manual describing our computer because to get this magazine, back in those days, you were probably an engineer. You are the sort of person who might buy our expensive computers. And I would sit down at home, whenever I had a free weekend. I would sit down and pull out blank paper and just start designing that computer. And if I’d already designed that computer, I would design it again using the latest, newest chips. My dad would get me the chip manuals of the newest, latest chips, and I would design it with fewer parts as a goal. I started making a game out of this, and the game was: how few of chips can I do it in? And I started coming up with tricks in my head as a young high school kid, that I knew that nobody else in the world was doing with chips…

[at University of Colorado] …I wanted to write every program that I could think of. Programs to calculate mathematical tables of numbers, things like Fibonacci numbers, powers of two, these great tables that you’d find in the tables of the books that engineers have to use to do their jobs. And I wrote so many programs, and I could run them three times a day. It was back when you had to type out punch cards, submit them, come back later to the computer to get your printouts and see that it’s done. I would run them three times a day, seven programs each, 60 pages each time, piling up reams and reams of output in my dorm room. And they cut me off. I didn’t realize they had a class budget. I thought, “You take a computer class, you get to write programs.” No. I ran our class five times over budget, which is more than twice the tuition of the second highest out of state tuition university in the country, and I was so scared that my parents would find out that I could never afford to pay that money back. They made it sound like they were going to bill me. So I didn’t try to go back there my second year.

Inspired nonsense

A few days ago I linked to a video of a ukulele number yclept “Monkey’s Brain” and was prompted to hunt down the perpetrators (The Hoppin’ Haole Brothers, who “mix the tropical-bopical sounds of paradise with the energy and rhythm of hot jazz and country swing”), with a CD at CD Baby… so I ordered it and it came. I don’t expect that just everybody will appreciate this sort of thing as I do, but you might try this 2:00 piece of Hosin’ Down the Devil to see if you’re Type A or Type B…