October 4, 2023

📺 Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake has more swearing, gore, death, despair, and general dreariness than the original run. In a way, it grew up with its audience, replacing childhood magic with metaverse mythologizing. Still more delightful than most, just not for my 4-year-old.

The Renaissance woman

Today’s episode of Conversations with Tyler with the historian of the Renaissance Ada Palmer shoots straight to the top of this year’s best-of list for any podcast. Here is a long excerpt to whet your appetite:

Imagine for a moment that you are the French ambassador, and you’re on your way to Rome to meet with the pope because the French king always needs this. Now, if you’re an ambassador, you’re, at minimum, the son of a count because only aristocracy can be ambassadors. On your way south, you’re stopping off in different cities, including Florence.

Now, you already have a terrible opinion of Florence because Florence is a pit of merchants, scum, and villainy. Florence, in order to prevent noblemen from taking over the republic, literally executed everyone in this city who had a drop of royal blood or noble blood. So, it’s just commoners. There’s not a single person in this city who is of sufficient right to be worthy to talk to you. In addition, Florence has such a terrible reputation for sodomy, homosexuality, and perversion that the verb to Florentine is literally the word for anal sex in five different European countries, including in France.

So, you’re on your way to this city, and it’s full of merchant scum and they’re all perverts and there isn’t even anyone there who’s worthy to host you on the way. You’re going to stay with your dad’s banker because he’s the only Florentine whose address you’ve got. You show up in the city, and you reach the city, and suddenly, wait a minute, it’s full of these gorgeous ancient Roman bronzes. Wait a minute, they can’t be ancient Roman bronzes. They look like they’re new, but that technology doesn’t exist. That technology was lost centuries ago.

Then you go to the banker’s house, and he greets you humbly at the door saying, “I’m sorry, my house is unworthy to host your excellency,” and he invites you inside, and you look around the courtyard, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before, with these round circular arches that let enormous amounts of light shine in on the gardens and the statues. You’ve never seen this before. Wait, you have seen this before. It looks like the ruins of the Roman villa in the backyard of your father’s castle where you grew up, but that doesn’t exist anymore. Those arts were lost.

In the middle of the courtyard, there’s a gorgeous statue, an ancient Roman statue of Bacchus or Dionysius, and next to it, there’s a brand-new statue that’s obviously new because it hasn’t even turned green yet. The bronze is still ruddy. But that technology, you know, doesn’t exist.

In the corner, there are some men dressed in strange robes speaking a language you’ve never heard, and you say, “What language are they speaking?” The banker says, “Oh, they’re speaking Ancient Greek. They’re Plato scholars.” And you say, “But Ancient Greek is lost, and Plato is lost. How do you have this?” “Oh, we have lots of Ancient Greek here. Look, here’s my grandson, Lorenzo. He’s just written a sonnet in Ancient Greek about the three parts of the soul.” And then, here’s a little boy reciting a sonnet to you about the nature of the soul in Ancient Greek.

You’re like, “Where am I? All of this stuff is impossible.” And that’s the moment that your host, Cosimo de’ Medici, turns to you and says, “Would France like to make an alliance with Florence?”

You should listen to any podcast with attention to get the most out of it, but this one actually does deserve your fullest attention. Pull to the side of the road if you have to, or else just read the transcript.

And she writes Hugo-nominated science fiction? Ada Palmer is the Renaissance woman.

Update: Of course that she would have a blog: Ex Urbe. Though points deducted for not having posted anything in almost a year.

October 3, 2023

October lectures of note

The first one is tomorrow, and it’s a good one!

By the way, these were just the lectures that interested me. The entire NIH calendar of lectures and courses is freely available to everyone, and the ones that are videocast and/or provide CME are marked as such, so feel free to make your own autodidact list.

Some wise words from Thomas Basbøll:

It is not whether what you are saying is true, but how you respond when someone tells you that you are wrong, that determines whether you’re an academic (or at least what kind of academic you are.)

He blogs at Inframethodology, which is a wonderful resource for academic writers.

🍿 If there is such a thing as a cinematic soulmate, Scott Sumner is mine. He has just published a batch of reviews that includes his best ever in each genre which all but confirmed it: both Singin' in the Rain and Mulholland Drive are there, and deservedly so. (ᔥTyler Cowen)

October 2, 2023

Sometimes, the Tartars do show up

The 2023 Nobel Prize in Medicine went to Katalin Karikó and Drew Weissman, and deservedly so. I do not look forward to the re-writing of history that will inevitably come about the role that the NIH, University of Pennsylvania, and academia in general had in their work. As a reminder:

“Every night I was working: grant, grant, grant,” Karikó remembered, referring to her efforts to obtain funding. “And it came back always no, no, no.”

By 1995, after six years on the faculty at the University of Pennsylvania, Karikó got demoted. She had been on the path to full professorship, but with no money coming in to support her work on mRNA, her bosses saw no point in pressing on.

She was back to the lower rungs of the scientific academy.

“Usually, at that point, people just say goodbye and leave because it’s so horrible,” Karikó said.

She didn’t quit. But even when the breakthrough came, the leading journal saw it as “incremental”:

“The breakthrough, as you put it, we first sent to a Nature journal, and within 24 h, they rejected it as an incremental contribution. I started learning English only at university, so I had to look up the meaning of the word incremental! Anyway, we then sent it to Immunity, and they accepted it (3). We literally did all the work ourselves, Drew and I. Even at the age of 58, I didn’t have much help or funding to perform the experiments, so I did them with my own hands. It took us a while to publish the follow-up paper in Molecular Therapy in 2008, where we presented data on the superior translation of the pseudouridine-containing mRNA and the lack of immune activation in mice.”

The story gets more tangled from there: Karikó and Weissman co-founded a company that failed, then joined BioNTech, and in parallel Moderna started working on their own modified RNA platform, and none of it would have mattered an iota if SARS-CoV-2 hadn’t provided the unfortunate opportunity for mRNA vaccines to shine. For all of our (deserved!) ex post glorification of everyone involved, no Covid-19 — no glory.

Which reminds me very much of The Tartare Steppe’s lonely soldier Drogo who wastes away his life guarding a fortress from the barbarian hordes that don’t arrive until it is too late for him to shine in battle. How lucky for us all that humanity has enough Drogos, and how lucky for this particular pair of soldiers that their Tartars showed up on time.

October 1, 2023

My entries in the September 2023 Photoblogging Challenge

30 Spoiler alert.

A funny thing happened while I was reading Wanting, a book about mimetic desire: micro.blog started the September 2023 Photoblogging Challenge and I had sudden urge to unlock that 30-day pin.

I went for tangential over literal interpretation of the prompts, and for (mostly) archival photos over daily snaps. While reviewing old photos I realized that, among the many things wrong with my late iPhone Xs Max before the digitizer died and I had to replace it, was the lens stabilizer: most of the photos shot while it was on its last legs are smeared. I was oddly at peace with that, my own photo quality standards having slipped considerably in the last decade as my spouse became the family’s photographer of record.

I also tried to add a link or two wherever possible, because if a piece of online text doesn’t link out to anything else then what’s the point? Seriously, X now allows verified users to post walls of text in a single post and still has no hyperlinks. The mind boggles why anyone would write anything there that’s more serious than their thoughts from the shitter. In that spirit, here are all the prompts, linking out to my entry for the day:

September 30, 2023

This baby turned 11 years old a few weeks ago. Treasure the moments.

Baltimore MD, 2013.

Photo of a baby in a doctor's office, standing in front of a Norman Rockwell illustration of a doctor's office.

September 29, 2023

Everything is hi-tech and no one is happy

Emily Fridenmaker, who is a pulmonary disease and critical care physician, writes on X:

Everything is so complex.

Logging into things is complex, placing orders is complex, figuring out who to page is complex, getting notes sent to other doctors is complex, insurance is complex, etc etc. But we just keep doing it.

At what point is all this just too much to ask?

There are a few more posts in that thread, and I encourage you to read all of it to get a sampling of why doctors feel burnt out. Whether you are in medicine, science, or education, your professional interactions have slowly — They Live-style — been replaced by a series of fragile Rube Goldberg machines that worked great in the minds of their technocratic developers, but break, stutter, stammer, and grind to a halt as soon as they encounter another one of their brethren. Which is all the time!

Too much of our professional lives has been spent playing around with a series of Rube Goldberg nesting dolls, Before reading I Am a Strange Loop I would have apologized for mixing metaphors, but this is how our brains think and it doesn’t have to make sense in the physical world to be useful, so apology rescinded. 2FA inside a 2FA, and if Apple is wondering why people are taking more and more time to replace their aging iPhones, I bet a good chunk of them dread doing it because they don’t even know how many different authenticating services, email clients, education portals, virtual machines — and all other needless detritus sold to management by professional salespeople — they would need to log back into.

Don’t get me wrong: Rube Goldberg machines are fun to play with — The Incredible Machine was one of my first gaming memories — and they can even be useful for individual workflows. But mandating that others use your string-and-pulley concoction that will break at first unexpected interaction is sadistic. Just this Monday we had yet another AV failure at a weekly lecture held at a high-tech newly-opened campus. I knew there would be trouble the moment I saw that the only way to interact with any AV equipment was via a touchscreen that had no physical buttons and no way to remove the power cord, which was welded to the screen on one end, and went into a closed cabinet on the other. Lo and behold the trouble came not two weeks later: we couldn’t get past the screensaver logo. We ended up asking students to look at their own screens while guest lecturers were speaking — and nowadays everyone carries at least two screens with them to school — which was too bad, because I was looking forward to using the whiteboard which is as far from Rube Goldberg as it gets.

Me from 20 years ago would have salivated for that much technology in my everyday life, but I’m hoping it was a function of the time, not of my age, and that kids-these-days know better. My own kids' experience with the great remote un-learning of 2020–2021 makes me hopeful that they will be more cautious about introducing technological complexity into their lives.