January 5, 2025

📚 Finished reading: The Notebook by Roland Allen

📚 Finished reading: The Notebook by Roland Allen. It starts off strong, with an anecdote about the creation of the Moleskine brand, then goes in much depth about writing during renaissance and the enlightenment, topping it off with a few modern developments like BuJo. The chapters are self-contained and packed with information without being bogged down into too much detail — the Moleskine chapter is a good example of what to expect — at the expense of an overarching “story”. So, this is a collection of vignettes more than a systemic review and categorization of the types of notebooks through history, and that’s fine.

A few higlights:

  • Michael of Rhodes, a 15th century member of the Venetian navy whose manuscript was the LinkedIn of the day: started of with personal interests, ended up full of useless (at best) and dangerously misleading information meant to impress future employers.
  • Leonardo Da Vinci had no introspective passages in any of the thousands of pages he wrote down in his many notebooks. Janan Ganesh was right.
  • The term commonplace arose from the commonplace book and used to mean a striking, exemplary passage in a book, play or speech one should write down and keep. Once commonplace books became popular and writers started including flowery passages with the express purpose of having them written down in the book the public got onto them and the adjective “commonplace” became derogatory. So it goes…
  • The album amicorum or — and this may remind you of a certain online service — the friendship book made a similar turn, from an exclusive ritual of the educated few in 16th century Dutch universities to an 18th century fad among young women that was looked down upon by the patriarchy. What used to take two and a half centuries now happens in a few short years.
  • The New York Times has always been evil; just read the chapter on Bob Graham’s notebooks to see why.

January 4, 2025

📚 15 books for 2025

A more modest list for what I hope will be a more modest year:

  1. Perhaps the Stars by Ada Palmer
  2. Feline Philosophy by John Gray
  3. Human Action by Ludwig von Mises
  4. How Romantics and Victorians Organized Information by Jillian M. Hess
  5. Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir
  6. The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles
  7. Defeat at Gallipoli by Nigel Steel & Peter Hart
  8. Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes
  9. A Fortunate Man: The Story of a Country Doctor by John Berger
  10. The Space Trilogy by C.S. Lewis
  11. A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole
  12. For Blood and Money by Nathan Vardi
  13. The Billion Dollar Molecule by Barry Werth
  14. Broken Stars by Various
  15. The Armies of the Night by Norman Mailer

Remember, it’s the books you don’t read that count. And here are last year’s wish lists: 202420232022.

January 3, 2025

"Efficientize" is not a real word but even so: never ever efficientize the things you like doing

For all the hate X gets, you can still find nuggets of good information, Nassim Taleb and the Taleb-adjacent being a prime example. Here is one such post, from Juani Villarejo, shown here in its entirety for those who would rather not go to X to see the original:

Parkinson’s law says that work expands to fill the available time.

Jevons’s paradox states that every increased efficiency, will raise demand rather than decrease it.

And there is a work asymmetry:
Probably there are many more things you dislike doing than things you like.

Conclusion: If you allocate time to work, all the time will be filled with tasks to do.

If you make your work more efficient, your time will be filled with more tasks (demands increases).

But by the asymmetry, tasks you dislike doing have more chance to appear than tasks you like.

So when you make your work more efficient your time will always tend to be filled with more tasks you dislike doing.

Corollary: Never ever efficientize (sic!) the things you like doing. Take all the time and enjoy them slowly. They also serve as a defense wall against the things you dislike.

The links and emphasis are mine. For all its pretenses to the contrary X is still a horrible platform for anything longer than 300 or so characters and does not allow for hyperlinks.

A thought for the year, from the aforementioned Prof. Taleb:

Likewise, I don’t read letters and emails longer than a postcard. Writing must have some solemnity. Reading and writing, in the past, were the province of the sacred.

From How I Write, to which I have linked before. Good essays much like good books are worth re-rereading.

January 2, 2025

Here are a few links to start off 2025 (see if you can spot a pattern):

Happy New Year, dear reader!

December 31, 2024

📚 2024

I did not read as much as I hoped I would and the list I had set out for myself was wildly optimistic. And that’s fine. Books that were on my actual reading list for the year are marked with an asterisk. There aren’t many of them. Some of the entries have a sentence or two with my current feelings about the book, and the titles link to the fresh-off-the-reading thoughts.

  1. Talent by Tyler Cowen was more useful than I thought it would be, though it mostly caters to the tech bro crowd.
  2. Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis was a re-read, and I shall re-read it again.
  3. I and Thou by Martin Buber: incomprehensible.
  4. Too Like the Lightning* by Ada Palmer
  5. Liberation Day* by George Saunders
  6. Slow Productivity by Cal Newport can be summarized thusly: do fewer things, at a natural pace, obsessing over quality. You may now skip reading the book.
  7. On Great Writing (On the Sublime) by Longinus was marvelous if for nothing else than as a reminder that things we now find commonplace used to be revolutionary — that is indeed why they are now ubiquitous — and I count the word “commonplace” among those things as well.
  8. The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt managed to change the world, as more and more American schools are banning phones as they should have done in the first place.
  9. Writing to Learn by William Zinsser was a bit of a waste of time.
  10. Toxic Exposure* by Chadi Nabhan
  11. Seven Surrenders by Ada Palmer
  12. The Will to Battle by Ada Palmer, and with three of her books in 2024 this is the most I have read in a single year from any one writer. That is as strong of an endorsement as any.
  13. Moonbound by Robin Sloan was too thin for my taste. If the foundation of your epic is pop culture you are building a castle on top of sand, so if it is to stay upright it can never be anything more than a sandcastle.
  14. False Dawn* by John Gray ensured Gray would feature prominently in my 2025 reading list, now as to whether I will actually ready any more of his work is anyone’s guess.
  15. The Friction Project by Robert I. Sutton, which was the only true clunker of the year. I fell for a good showing on a not very good podcast, so this should teach me.
  16. Useful Not True by Derek Sivers is out now and you should get it.
  17. A System for Writing by Bob Doto was like an expedition to a land in which people use notes to collect their thoughts rather than posting them on a blog like they should.
  18. Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis was surprisingly poignant and Lewis too will be on the 2025 list.
  19. Meditations for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman will turn out to be my book of the year, not because it change much of anything in how I operate but because it is the first book recommendation in my 12 years of marriage that my wife actually took and liked.
  20. Order without Design* by Alain Bertaud

I try to wrap up any reading by December 31 so as not to have any book straddling the years but I am now in the middle of The Notebook: A History of Thinking on Paper by Roland Allen and — spoiler alert for the first book I’ll finish in 2025 — it is right up my alley so it gets an honorable mention here. This is in fact where I learned about the origin of “commonplace” that I slipped in at number 7.

And here are the previous two years: 20232022. Brief book reviews go back to 2017 (here is the very first one); one day I may collect those into lists as well.

An article from Matt Maldre about skipping to the popular parts of a YouTube video caught my eye:

Take this two-hour animation of a candy corn ablaze in a fireplace. This cute video is a simple loop that goes over and over. Certainly, in two hours, there’s got to be sort of Easter egg that happens, right? Maybe Santa comes down the chimney.

Roll over the Engagement Graph, and you’ll see some spikes.

I checked out the spikes. Nothing different happens. It’s the same loop. It’s just people clicking the same spikes that other people did because other people clicked it.

Because humans are humans and nature is nature. Now how many fields of science are made of people analyzing, explaining, narrating and writing millions upon millions of words about an equivalent of these spikes? Microbiome for sure. Much of genetics as currently practiced. Anything that relies on principle component analysis. What else?

The last crusty bread of the year. I’ve only started last year so there is much to learn. One of the thing is: bread flour is called that for a reason and you’d do well to chose it over “all purpose”.

A rustic loaf of crusty bread in front of a red bred box.

December 30, 2024

Voices in my head, 2024

Podcast-wise, I am in my 2016 mood. There were five prospects for 2024. I became a regular listener of exactly zero. The true regulars continue to be ATP, EconTalk, Conversations with Tyler, The Talk Show and Dithering, but even there I skip through more episodes than I complete.

Still, moods shift and if I listen to more of anything next year it may be one or more of these:

And here are years past: 202320222021202020192018The one where I took a break from podcastsThe very first one

Apparently, Kewpie is not just a brand of mayo

From the most excellent exhibit Brilliant Exiles: American Women in Paris, 1900–1939 on display at the National Portrait Gallery until February 23, 2025:

Rose O’Neill 1874-1944 Born Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania

Rose O’Neill invented the internationally famous “Kewpie” cartoon character. It made her a millionaire and the highest-paid woman artist in the world. In Paris, she revealed a very different artistic side. There, she exhibited visionary artworks inspired by dreams and the unconscious.

O’Neill first exhibited at the Paris Salon in 1906 and was immediately elected to its prestigious membership. Fifteen years later, Parisian critics praised her one-woman show. It featured fantastic images influenced by pagan mythology and evolutionary theory.

O’Neill championed women’s economic independence and sexual liberation. She blamed fashion for constraining women, asking “How can they hope to compete with men when they are boxed up tight in the clothes that are worn today?” She once pretended to be pregnant to persuade a French clothier to make a corset-free, loose-fitting gown, like the one worn in this portrait. Her nonchalant pose and defiant gaze express O’Neill’s supreme self-assurance.

Here is the portrait, even more remarkable in person:

Painting of Rose O'Neill.

And yes this is the same Kewpie that endures as a brand of Japanese mayonnaise on sale at your local Costco.

Tracing phenomena through time is a humbling experience. The same exhibit dedicated a whole section to Josephine Baker — just try to categorize this.