“It would have been more cost-effective to buy an image processor from whomever, but creating a custom one gave Apple an edge that paid off much larger dividends in the long run. The same goes for the 64-bit A8, though we haven’t begun to see that show its cards yet.”—
“Look, there’s no problem with loving the Nats and wishing the O’s their best. Or being an O’s diehard who smiles when the nearby Nationals clinch on the same night. There’s no problem with staying an O’s fan even while maintaing allegiances to the Redskins, Capitals and Wizards. But to live and die on every pitch of both teams? That’s traitorous. It’s cowardly. It’s also impossible. On a majority of summer nights, the teams are playing at the exact same time. You can’t possibly fully devote yourself to both teams. Instead of being a great fan of one team, you become a mediocre fan of two. Still, these people exist.”—
I find the ownership of the Orioles frustrating on their best days, and on their worst they’ve crippled the future revenues of the Nationals with the permission of the commissioner and the Nats are going to own their asses in court.
They tore through the bottles — eight cases of Korbel, one of Dom Perignon, 25 cases of Miller Lite. The party spilled out to the field. Players stood in front of their bench and watched country singer Cole Swindell. Scott Hairston danced on the warning track with his two sons. Ross Detwiler and Stammen leaned against the dugout railing and guzzled Bud Lights. They laughed as the laser lights illuminated their faces, soaked and too happy to care how they would feel in the morning.
In the corner, Stephen Strasburg’s daughter, the baby girl who hadn’t been born in 2012, sat on his shoulders. Strasburg rocked to the music as he peeked at his wife, whose initials — R.E.S. — he wears on his spikes, and smiled ear-to-ear. Strasburg dropped his daughter to eye level and kissed her on the cheek.
“We have grown up,” Stammen said.
Not long after, all around Strasburg, teammates swayed and sang along. They belted out the lyric: “The heart don’t forget something like that.”
“For whatever reason, Braves television announcers, particularly Joe Simpson — and in some cases the Braves themselves, via dumb messages/pictures on the jumbotron mocking him and by trying to turn meaningless things into controversies on social media — have singled out Bryce Harper. They’ve insulted him and slammed him and have decided that, for whatever reason, he is Public Enemy Number One. By doing so they have encouraged this kind of thing. Clever taunting and some good natured back-and-forth is fine. The Braves, their announcers and fans have decided, however, that dumb, pointless and mean-spirited mockery is the order of the day.”—
List of States with State and Federal Officials Convicted of Crimes
If you think that DC doesn’t deserve statehood because we can’t get our local house in order, here is a list of states where, since 2010, there have been state and federal officials convicted of crimes:
SR - State Representative
G - Governor
LG - Lt. Governor
MC - Member of Congress
S - Senator
P - State Party Official
SA - State Administrator
J - Judge (State Supreme Court)
Alabama - SR
Arizona - SR
Arkansas - SR
California - SR (2)
Colorado - SR
Connecticut - SR
Florida - P
Georgia - SR
Idaho - SR
Illinois - SR
Indiana - SA
Iowa - SR
Maine - SR (2)
Massachusetts - SR (4)
Michigan - J
Mississippi - J
New Jersey - SR
New York - SR (9), SA (2)
North Carolina - G, SR
Ohio - SR
Oklahoma - SR (2)
Pennsylvania - SR (6), J
South Carolina - SR, LG, SA
Virginia - G
West Virginia - SR
I’ve been really impressed with how consistently good the Magic Man album is. I got hooked on one song and set it to be the seed of a radio station yesterday, and every time I found myself wanting to know who it was playing, it was these guys. So I bought the album. I don’t regret it.
Come on, "violation" has many non-sexual meanings. Privacy violation, violation of trust, etc.
Sure it does. And all senses of it connote something far more severe than this tiresome “I am a special snowflake and so is my music collection” poseur nonsense.
Music is like books: The most interesting book collection isn’t one bookshelf of carefully-chosen volumes selected for the impression they convey to a visitor looking at the shelves.* It’s far more interesting to walk into someone’s house and see several bookshelves with all kinds of stuff on them- different subjects, different genres, major publishers, indies and self-pubbed, never knowing if the book on the shelf is there because the owner loves it, or because they found it useful once, or because they hated it and wonder if they might hate it less someday. People who read everything are far more interesting than people who read a “carefully curated” list.
I guess my point is, people who are in a twist because their carefully-constructed statements of self** have been temporarily disrupted are at best far too self-conscious for their own good, and at worst are boring, tiresome people who will hopefully get a lot more interesting when they grow out of giving a fuck about what other people think about their tastes in music, in books, in art.
*To be clear, we all did this in our teens and 20s before we grew up and realized how dreadfully obvious it was.
**Made out of other people’s creative labor, mind.
July was a mental disaster for me, and it all kinda fell apart there at the end of the month. Something had to give. Since then, I’ve gotten back on the bike, occasionally, and started a walking program, where I’ve walked 65 miles.
I’ve lost ten pounds, about.
I’ve quit Diet Coke, in favor of water and the 1-2 San Pellegrino fruit sodas I will have with dinner. It’s weird not having so much caffeine, but it’s mostly working.
I’m feeling in a better headspace. It’s not where it should be yet, but we’re still pre-vacation, and I’m really looking forward to a week in California. I think that’ll help, too.
We hit up Small Press Expo this afternoon with Charlie, and it was pretty much outstanding. There is so much artistry and imagination packing those ballrooms. Every year, I come away thinking “I don’t know how they’re going to top it next year,” but every year they do.
Charlie had a blast and made a lot of people laugh as he rode my shoulders, using my hair like Ratatouille’s steering wheel.
I want to thank everyone who worked hard to make SPX into a real, living, breathing thing, from the organizing committee to the countless volunteers running the floor. I want to thank the artists who believe in what they do, because I know how hard that can be. Your imagination and creativity are a massive inspiration for me.
“Hundreds of thousands of sensors monitor the sleeping patterns of people worldwide, allowing a private company to pinpoint the exact second that an earthquake roused people in Napa, California. We see 3D data regularly depicted as LIDAR point-clouds and voxels, we use pixelated models more than ever before to interpret our surroundings. Millions of people have watched a goldfish play videogames, live on the internet. We can make images of objects using less than one photon per pixel. There are at least thirteen active robotic solar system missions. American Football players committing domestic violence, witnessed by surveillance camera, are ex-post-facto removed from popular videogames. There are now nine documented cases of people who have lived without a cerebellum. Scales that measure your weight and are connected to the internet geolocate themselves, accounting for fluctuations in gravity around the planet. A citizen science project has found evidence that humans can gain the ability to see into the near infrared just by eating lots of vitamin A2.”—Episode One Hundred and Sixty: After All; 2014 (7)
“The complaint filed in a Northern California District Court cites one instance where a California UberX driver put a service dog in the trunk and refused to pull over when the blind passenger realized where the animal was.”—
I'm confused about what Beethoven was doing in the black composers post. He was German.
By golly gee! I keep forgetting that Black people didn’t exist until the Fresh Prince of Bel Air came on television! Or that Black people existed in anywhere else than Africa even with slavery going on :) My apologies.
Anyway, here’s proof that Beethoven was Black:
"… Said directly, Beethoven was a black man. Specifically, his mother was a Moor, that group of Muslim Northern Africans who conquered parts of Europe—making Spain their capital—for some 800 years.
In order to make such a substantial statement, presentation of verifiable evidence is compulsory. Let’s start with what some of Beethoven’s contemporaries and biographers say about his brown complexion:
"Frederick Hertz, German anthropologist, used these terms to describe him: ‘Negroid traits, dark skin, flat, thick nose.’
Emil Ludwig, in his book ‘Beethoven,’ says: ‘His face reveals no trace of the German. He was so dark that people dubbed him Spagnol [dark-skinned].’
Fanny Giannatasio del Rio, in her book ‘An Unrequited Love: An Episode in the Life of Beethoven,’ wrote ‘His somewhat flat broad nose and rather wide mouth, his small piercing eyes and swarthy [dark] complexion, pockmarked into the bargain, gave him a strong resemblance to a mulatto.’
Beethoven’s death mask: profile and full face
C. Czerny stated, ‘His beard—he had not shaved for several days—made the lower part of his already brown face still darker.’
Following are one word descriptions of Beethoven from various writers: Grillparzer, ‘dark’; Bettina von Armin, ‘brown’; Schindler, ‘red and brown’; Rellstab, ‘brownish’; Gelinek, ‘short, dark.’
In Alexander Thayer’s Life of Beethoven, vol.1, p. 134, the author states, “there is none of that obscurity which exalts one to write history as he would have it and not as it really was. The facts are too patent.” On this same page, he states that the German composer Franz Josef Haydn was referred to as a “Moor” by Prince Esterhazy, and Beethoven had “even more of the Moor in his looks.’ On p. 72, a Beethoven contemporary, Gottfried Fischer, describes him as round-nosed and of dark complexion. Also, he was called ‘der Spagnol’ (the Spaniard).
Other “patent” sources, of which there are many, include, but are not limited to, Beethoven by Maynard Solomon, p.78. He is described as having “thick, bristly coal-black hair” (in today’s parlance, we proudly call it ‘kinky’) and a ‘ruddy-complexioned face.’ In Beethoven: His Life and Times by Artes Orga, p.72, Beethoven’s pupil, Carl Czerny of the ‘School of Velocity’ fame, recalls that Beethoven’s ‘coal-black hair, cut a la Titus, stood up around his head [sounds almost like an Afro]. His black beard…darkened the lower part of his dark-complexioned face.’
Engraving by Blasius Hofel, Beethoven, 1814, color facsimile of engraving after a pencil drawing by Louis Letronne. This engraving was regarded in Beethoven’s circle as particularly lifelike. Beethoven himself thought highly of it, and gave several copies to his friends.
I think I have had juuuuust about enough of the NFL. And it makes me sad, because the Steelers are pretty much the civic religion of my ancestral homeland, but that’s also sort of the problem: You’ll see little old ladies wearing Steelers earrings and crocheting black-and-gold afghans for their grandkids, because boys AND girls are taught to love the Steelers from an early age. Every yinzer baby is issued a birth certificate and a Terrible Towel, and little girls have favorite players and wear jerseys just like their brothers do… and I just can’t continue on with an organization that only gives a shit about Janay Rice as a PR problem, or the women Ben Roethlisberger is accused of assaulting, or any of the other women who ended up on the wrong side of an NFL player’s sense of entitlement backed by a culture that tacitly encourages violence as a professional skill, and then will turn around next month and pinkwash the uniforms, the flags, the shoes, and whatever other tchotckes they can sell for Breast Cancer Awareness Month in an effort to convince us that they care about women (just, you know, not the women romantically involved with the players).
And that’s just ON TOP OF their consistent effort to cover up and minimize the mounting, undeniable evidence that football as it is currently played is not only bad for the human brain, but that by the time a player is drafted, after years of college ball, high school ball, and pee-wee leagues, his brain is already so damaged his risk-assessment centers actually don’t function correctly, so he literally doesn’t know better than to sign away his cognitive function for an NFL contract.
The Terrible Towel is owned not by the Steelers, but by that Allegheny Valley School, a school for children with intellectual and physical disabilities. (Myron Cope donated the IP; his son went to the school and flourished.) So Charlie will still have his own Terrible Towel. I’m just not comfortable teaching him to twirl it.
As a father, I find myself horrified by the lessons that the NFL is perpetuating amongst young men, and I don’t think I can participate anymore.
I’m sad, because watching games with my Dad growing up was a highlight of the falls and winters of my youth, but the more we all come to know about the people running the league, the less I want Charlie near the sport.
“If Reddit wants to be thought of as a government, we’ll call it what it is: a failed state, unable to control what happens within its borders. At minimum, Reddit is a kleptocracy that speaks to lofty virtues while profiting from vice. It might be forgivable if we were talking about taxing cigarettes and booze, but we’re not talking about that. What we’re talking about is more like sexual assault, condoned by a state that earns revenue from it. “Reddit doesn’t have much of an interest in banning questionable content,” Wong wrote last year. “‘Family-friendly’ is out, ‘edgy’ is in.” Are those the words of a president, or a pimp?”—
Every single person who touched anything with this case from the Ravens to the League to the lawyers is a repugnant piece of crap who couldn’t do the right thing if they had it spelled out in a playbook
The NFL is broken.
No, Football itself is broken. This happens at every level of the game from the pros, to college, to high school.
"Not all teams" isn’t a good defense. This could’ve happened anywhere.
They don’t deserve our attention and support.
I feel crappy for watching and enjoying in part the game I did watch yesterday.
I feel crappy because I want to like football, because it is the civic religion of our country.
But, much like our country, that civic religion is pretty broken right now, because of the most fervent followers.
“So, let me posit something: what if we’re looking for the wrong thing? What if we’re looking for an Apple wearable, when what we should be looking for is an Apple wearable ecosystem and not just a solitary device. Sure, Apple has to make the proof of concept - and that’s what they’ll announce on Tuesday - but what’s a wearable in this context except a series of sensors united in a common environment?”—Techno Bits vol. 9: 40 Hours til Cupertino
NOTE: This was originally posted by Greg Costikyan over at Gamesutra. It was taken down for excessive profanity. All I haveto say is “fuck that.” This needs to be read.
Gamersgate: STFU by Greg Costikyan
"As a male voice in the game industry," writes my daughter Vicky, "you should speak out about this."
I wanted to hold my tongue. Because when I let loose, it usually does me no favors. But she’s right.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?
What do you think you’re defending? An industry in which greed-head executives make brain-dead games on a yearly basis that show little to no innovation from one title to the next? You fucking -want- Madden? And the next Call of Duty game, same as the last but with new content from hundreds of exploited drones working hours that destroy relationships because the suits think that’s what they want?
For decades, we had a market that catered to Maxim-reading horny boy-men who bought games by developers who spent man-years on developing better physics to make tits bounce in the next beach volleyball title. For decades, we had shameless manager jackasses who thought the best way to market their titles was to hire high-breasted bimbos to pose and giggle at their booths at E3.
For decades, we had the best creative minds of our industry SHUT DOWN whenever they proposed the slightest design innovation, because increasing budgets meant all design risk must be minimized.
For decades, we had no way for people who wanted to do anything creative be able to find any path to market.
Finally, finally, and thank god, we have a viable path of market for indies, and a way for people who want to express themselves through games that will never sell in the millions to find a market. And you find that a PROBLEM?
What kind of blinkered idiots you are?
And of course, indies do whatever the fuck they can to get noticed, because they don’t have MILLIONS OF MARKETING DOLLARS TO SPEND. What the fuck would you expect?
Let me explain something do you. Bobby Kotick, CEO of Activision: Mutimillionare. Anna Anthrophy? Stroppy indie developer who probably has problems paying her rent. Who has the power here? What the fuck are you talking about?
There’s some kind of conspiracy by the in-group to promote indie games at the expense of “real” games? What the fuck are you talking about? Who cares who Zoe Quinn fucked, or didn’t fuck? It’s none of your fucking business, unless you were one of the people involved, and most of you would give your left kidney to fuck her, if you had any brains. You are unlikely ever to touch anyone with an iota of her talent or intelligence.
And what does that even mean? Have you suddenly noticed that the game industry is undergoing weird changes as a result of this supposed conspiracy? The next Call of Duty being cancelled in favor of triple-A treatment of the next Anna Anthropy design?
Do people who actually care about whether games can be more than degraded violence porn for young men sometimes get together and talk about games that actually matter? And do they sometimes write about such games?
You’re fucking right they do! And you should be fucking grateful that someday a more mature and interesting landscape of videogames may emerge from that! That’s not what we call “conspiracy;” that’s what we call “gamers who care about games.”
And what is it with this mysoginistic bullshit?
I want to tell you some stories.
1. The studio head who invited me -and a female employee- to join them at a strip club at a conference, expecting we would all enjoy this as a ‘fun time.’
2. The party given by an industry marketing firm where I and Dan Scherlis were approached by a scantily clad woman who was evidently hired to show their clients a good time (not necessarily including actual fornication) and had to explain that we were both involved with people we cared about, and actually were having a perfectly enjoyable time talking to each other.
3. The -very- gay friend of mine who was hired by another firm and started sweating when I approached their booth at a conference, in fear that I would reveal his sexual orientation to his new boss.
4. My friend, Dan Bunten, a seminal figure in early PC gaming, who decided he was a woman, and after extensive surgery, became Danielle Bunten Berry. “Shabbily treated” wouldn’t even begin to describe it.
I have no idea why gender and such is even an issue in this conversation. Women have always been a minority in the games industry, to its loss; but they have never been entirely missing. Roberta Williams created the Sierra adventures. Brenda Garno, later Brathwaite, later Romero, was one of the key talents behind the Wizardry series.
If you look at recent IGDA surveys, 80+% of all jobs in the industry are held by men. This is a problem, particularly as industry surveys say that a majority of gamers are women. To be sure, they’re playing Candy Crush and not Call of Duty, and maybe that doesn’t qualify as a “real game” to you, but if so, fuck off. Games are games, games are good, and it’s great that more people are playing them. Stop masturbating with your console controller and get a life.
Anita Sirkeesian has told some pretty obvious truths about the treatment of women in games; controversial ones, and others are free to debate them, but “debate” doesn’t normally involve threats to rape or kill.
You can like, or not like, Zoe Quinn’s work; tastes vary. But her sex life is not, and never has been, any of your fucking business.
Leigh Alexander is one of the most interesting journalists working in games.
This is bullshit, you are assholes, and shut the fuck up.
Deal with the fact that not all games are, or will be in the future, the same corporate crap that you apparently love so much. And understand that the money-grubbing entities who dole out this crap will continue to feed your fix, because it’s a far larger market than is reached by the indie people, whom you despise and spit on, can possibly ever hope to reach.
You’re attacking people who have problems making their rent, apparently in defense of people who make millions off your fanboy lusts; and somehow feel threatened by people who love games — as I supposed you do — but love games that are a little different.
You are assholes.
Worse, you are poor examples of men. Men, good men, defend women. They do not attack them.
To which end: To defend the honor of Anita Sirkeesian, Zoe Quinn, Leigh Alexander, or yes, Anna Anthropy, I will be willing to meet any of you, on horse or afoot, with sword or pistol, at a time and place of your choosing.
It is time this stopped.
EDIT: Original cached post here, courtesy of James Wallis.
“I am afraid that millennials are not prepared to face the future. Every generation thinks it can avoid repeating the past, but confidence is not preparation. George Santayana famously warned about the forgetting the past and thus causing its repetition. I’d clarify that those who cannot remember the past outside of nostalgia are condemned to repeat it. Remembering the past with rose-colored glasses is just as bad as not remembering it at all.”—What Gatsby? — I. M. H. O. — Medium