1. Michael Agger at Slate on talking to Siri and what it’s already doing to some people’s habits.

The choice to make Siri a woman leads to predictable sorts of harassment, though I like how she brushes it off with both sarcasm and a turning of the mirror upon the master. If you call her a “bitch,” she will sometimes reply: “Why do you hate me? I don’t even exist.” For me, Siri’s voice isn’t especially bitchy or sexy. She evokes a second-grade teacher, one who is fast with a response but also willing to patiently explain.

2. Alyssa Rosenberg at ThinkProgress, based on the above, ponders whether Siri is a feminist.

I know it sounds odd. My first reaction on hearing that Apple was embedding personal assistant software with the voice and name of a lady in its new phone was vexation. […] But it actually sounds like Siri’s set up to push back against the kind of sexual harassment a real woman like her might get ….

3. And of course the motherlode: Shit That Siri Says.

(My favorite so far. Younger and/or less nerdy members of the studio audience might not get it.)

When combined with my short rant from last week, this may be the most I have ever written at one time about baseball, America’s second most useless pastime. I apologize for this lapse, and promise it will not happen again.

However, my brother-in-law linked Keith Olbermann’s analysis (above) of the Boston Globe’s article on “why the Red Sox tanked so badly.” Olbermann calls it a hatchet job. I detect some implied criticism from my brother-in-law’s sending it to me - perhaps he, like Olbermann, feels I am not blaming The Money enough. So let’s be clear on where I stand:

Terry Francona was a good coach until he decided he didn’t want to do his job any more, which unfortunately was about midway through this past season - and even more unfortunately, he didn’t tell anyone and none of The Money seemed to notice. (More on that in a moment.)

I don’t actually agree with the Globe that Francona’s personal problems tanked his performance, but I don’t think they helped. I don’t think his personal problems disillusioned him with the job - I think that was 50% just plain being exhausted with shepherding the spoiled brats (more on that in a moment too), and 50% the fact that The Money (specifically, John Henry) seemed to dislike him and was looking for an excuse to punt him.

By the by, I think there is some validity to the theory that John Henry didn’t like Francona because Henry wants a coach who doesn’t try to think for himself. However, if Henry gets his wish on this (and he will), it will be an even bigger disaster. Mark my words.

Theo Epstein has always, in my mind, been overrated. I don’t feel that his boy-genius reputation has ever been deserved. He has made more horrible picks for the team than good ones, and he has in recent years spent a lot of money that the Sox did not in any way get value-received for. (I’ll spare you the rant on money in baseball - I did that last time - but even if you disagree with the amount of money in baseball, you must admit that the Sox repeatedly did not get what they paid for - Matsuzaka, Lackey, Crawford, etc, etc etc.) See also.

[Overheard on a sports-talk radio show: “We are the 99% … who hate John Lackey.”]

I have never found much evidence that Epstein was ever overruled/interfered with in team hiring decisions by The Money. Therefore we must assume that, while he gets sole credit for the handful of brilliant decisions, he must also get sole blame for the much larger number of dumb ones. According to my math the balance appears to be negative. Good riddance to the boy genius, and condolences to the Cubs.

But let us not assume that I leave all the blame there! Oh my no.

The Money have shown over and over the peril of running a baseball team like a business. Sure, a baseball team can be thought of as a business, and a sadly obscenely-profitable one … as long as your team wins. When your team does badly, your revenue from it eventually dries up … and good business practice has almost nothing to do with whether your team wins. [One of the things I’ve noticed about businessmen is they think they can run everything in the world like a business. The number of failed businessmen-turned-politicians is a testament to how wrong this is.]

I will now stop and say something in favor of the odious Steinbrenner: Prime asshole that he was, he knew that it was important for his team to win, regularly even if not consistently, and he spent his money with that goal always in his eyes. The Money spend their money trying to make more money. There is a difference.

The Money, unlike the fans, do not care whether the team wins or loses; they care how rich the team makes them. And they have many other processes they’re keeping an eye on at the same time - like Henry’s substantial investment in an English football team, something utterly baffling and alien to Red Sox fans, who view it as a useless distraction for Henry.

Basically, the charge against The Money that Olbermann levels is that they were oblivious to what was going on with the Sox, that they were not sufficiently involved, that they didn’t give a damn. All of this is true. The question is: Why would anyone with a working brain have expected any differently? They thought they could just wind the machine up, prime the pumps with cash, and sit back and profit. I don’t see any indication that any of The Money ever thought that their cash cow would ever actually need active tending once Epstein was hired.

And finally, we must not forget to save some venom for …

The Team. A group of overpaid, spoiled brats whose general mantra seemed to be, “Well, I got my obscene paycheck, now why should I actually have to do the thing I was paid to do?” (along with “Teamwork? What the hell is that?”) On the other hand, can you blame them? Think about it: You’re John Lackey. You’re thirty-two years old, and have the emotional maturity of someone thirteen years younger. You’re already kind of an asshole, and you know how short the lifespan of a pitcher’s arm is. You got your eighty-two-and-half million. It’s guaranteed. You’re probably not going to work again in baseball after the next five years anyway. What possible incentive do you have to actually do the thing you were paid to do? How many of us wouldn’t be tempted to take money we could be set-for-life on, then say, “fuck this, I’m going to slack off as much as possible until my contract’s done and then I’m moving to fucking Tahiti”?

Here is where I credit Francona: The only times the Sox have actually worked as a baseball team since their 2007 victory are the times when he has basically forced them into line - gotten them to stop being selfish and/or apathetic and actually play some baseball. When Francona stopped caring - and again, who can blame him? - they were doomed.

And at that, I always felt Francona wasn’t firm enough. Remember, I hold to the Belichick school of coaching: I think that when you are a coach, it is far better to be feared than loved. I think a sports coach at the pro levels needs to approach the job as if it’s boot camp and he is R. Lee Ermey. Drill sergeants know they can’t afford to have any friends.

So, in summation: The GM always sucked. The team has sucked for quite a while. The Money sucks. The coach began to suck. The Globe is right. Olbermann is right. And I am right and you are right and all is right, too-loora-lay.

Here’s to another well-deserved eighty-six years.

“50% of people pay attention to toilet paper orientation.”

The other half of us have the minor misfortune to be married to them.

… Mother Theresa and Lady Gaga? No, really.

I’d give you a pullquote but then you might skip the article, and it’s too entertaining for that.

I find this educational psychology article from The Economist to be sort of a “well, duh” conclusion, but maybe that’s just me:

The researchers’ conclusion was that, in the context of strange toys of unknown function, prior explanation does, indeed, inhibit exploration and discovery.

The question that interests me has to do not with children but with adults, to wit: When you encounter an adult who is scared to pull down menus or try items in whatever software they’re working with, who is only comfortable with a narrowly-defined operational procedure and flat-out refuses to experiment or vary from that procedure in any way, is that a learned behavior? How did they play with their toys as a child? In short, did they lose their will to explore, or did they never have much of it in the first place?

ilovecharts:

via Kurt White

Except, of course, “blue” as an extremely rare steak is unheard of outside of France, as far as I know, and also, no two cooks will interpret these terms the same way, so, really, they’re pretty much useless.

If I ordered a medium rare steak and got the one for the “medium rare” picture above, I’d eat it (I don’t send food back unless it’s actually inedible, because I figure whatever will eventually be delivered back to me will have saliva in it), but I wouldn’t be particularly happy about it.

When I order “medium rare” I am mentally picturing the one above which says “medium.” But “medium” is dangerous. “Medium” to many kitchens means “basically well done.” (Never actually order a well-done steak in a restaurant. The cooks abuse well-done steaks.)

Still, the picture is useful. I think I’ll print it out and show it at a restaurant next time I order a steak, so I can explain “I’d like it as pink as possible inside without having any of that shiny uncooked meat anywhere that you see in the left three images.” (That should absolutely guarantee they’ll spit in my food.)

If I want raw steak I’ll chop it up, coat it in berbere, and call it kitfo.

I do order hamburgers well done, because 1) the meat is less reliable and 2) even slightly pink ground beef is gross. But I don’t eat very many hamburgers. And the few I eat even at the one place I do eat them always arrive somewhere around medium, because apparently the cook is trying to protect me from the horror of a well-done burger. I’ve never sent one back. I eat there three to five times a week and I have goodwill to maintain.

The Boston Phoenix has outdone itself with its Rapture-themed articles this week, starting with its Weekly World News-styled cover. Two articles especially stand out, both by David Bernstein. This one is an FAQ about this latest set of Rapture nonsense. The FAQ is actually mostly straightforward and factual; any humor in it is incidental. There is, however, some editorializing late in the piece:

WHY IS THERE DISAGREEMENT OVER WHETHER WE’RE ALREADY IN THE TRIBULATION PERIOD? 
As best I can tell, it depends on how you feel about the quantity of worldwide butt-fucking. All sides agree that the prevalence of gay sex is a sign of the approaching End Times. They also agree that gay sex will then be even more rampant during the Tribulations - one popular Rapture site notes that “homosexual and lesbian relationships [will be] highly encouraged.” The difference is that Camping believes that there is so much same-sex fucking in the world now, we must already be well into the Tribulations, while mainstreamers believe that this is nothing compared to the amount of gay banging we’ll see later.

CAN HOMOSEXUALS BE RAPTURED? 
Oh no, no, no. Judgment Day, according to the Rapture movement, is directly analogous to the destruction of the Sodomites for trying to have anal intercourse with Lot. In other words, the End Times is primarily about Jesus punishing butt-fuckers.

IS TODAY’S RAPTURE MOVEMENT DRIVEN MOSTLY BY THE SUBLIMATED VENGEANCE FANTASIES OF SELF-LOATHING CLOSETED HOMOSEXUALS? 
I would say on the whole it’s roughly 50 percent that, and 50 percent about punishing the other smart-alecs who look down their noses at true Christian believers. With Camping, maybe more like 80/20 - he’s really eager to see the homos suffer.

I happen to agree with Bernstein’s conclusions on this matter, of course (see quote two items down).

1. Even in a weblog called “Geekologie,” the commenters line up to call out anyone who cares about this information - or dares to admit liking Tolkien - as worthless. Which is why I learned the lesson as early as elementary school: If you have interests the Normal Kids have deemed nerdy, indulge them only in safe spaces or keep them to yourself. Or you get beaten up. (Why are the Normal Kids even reading Geekologie? Presumably only to mock it. Or nerds are reading it, and are using mockery as protective coloration to look Normal.)

2. You will notice that no one points out the most interesting fact of the whole shenanigan: A baseball player - a straight, a Normal, a person associated with one of the few interests that Normal People consider acceptable to be nerdy about, although they don’t ever call it that - liked Tolkien enough to name one of his bats after a sword from those books. Why is no one calling out the baseball player for nerdiness unbecoming of his normality? Oh, right, because he’s a baseball player.

3. As someone tried to point out in the comments and got shouted down, it’s fine not to know the names of Orcrist and Glamdring (which, one commenter’s error notwithstanding, is Gandalf’s sword that he acquired at the same time as Thorin and Bilbo got theirs). But Sting - which has a short, easy, actual-English-word nickname - is not only easy to remember, but figures in the later story a great deal (and, unlike the other two, is called out by name in the LotR movies). So, yeah, getting it wrong is a different quantum of wrong than getting the other two wrong. That’s not nerdery; it’s just fact.

4. Perhaps the Normal People would have done better with the names the goblins gave those two famous swords: Biter and Beater. Those are names simple and stupid and unremarkable enough even for Normal People to remember.

5. Some of us just remember “Glamdring” and “Orcrist” because weird words stick in our head, just as we will never forget the name of Benedict Cumberbatch even if we never see him in anything again. (Because, really, Benedict Cumberbatch?)

Another item I’d have posted yesterday had Tumblr not melted.

“These surveys always come up with a list where no one would want to live. One wants to live in places which are large and complex, where you don’t know everyone and you don’t always know what’s going to happen next. Cities are places of opportunity but also of conflict, but where you can find safety in a crowd.

“We also have to acknowledge that these cities that come top of the polls also don’t have any poor people,” he adds. And that, it seems to me, touches on the big issue. Richard G Wilkinson and Kate Pickett’s hugely influential book The Spirit Level: Why More Equal Societies Almost Always Do Better (2009) seems to present an obvious truth – that places where the differential in income between the wealthiest and the poorest is smallest tend to engender a sense of satisfaction and well-being. But while it may be socially desirable, that kind of comfort doesn’t necessarily make for vibrancy or dynamism. If everybody is where they want to be, no one is going anywhere. [Emphasis mine -v]

“Sure, Vancouver is beautiful,” says Kotkin, “but it’s also unaffordable unless you’re on an expense account and your company is paying your rent.” […] In fact, it can often be exactly the juxtaposition of wealth and relative poverty that makes a city vibrant, the collision between the two worlds. Where parts of big cities have declined, through the collapse of industries or the fears about immigration that led to what urbanists have termed the “donut effect” (in which white populations flee to the suburbs, leaving minorities in the centres), there is space to be filled by artists and architects, by poorer immigrants arriving with a drive to make money and by the proliferation of food outlets, studios and galleries. These, in turn, attract the wealthy back to the centre, at first to consume, and then to gentrify.

Kinda makes you hate the well-off people, don’t it? They found a city, then run when the poor people come in because it’s easier to be frightened of them than actually help them, then the artists and such come in because the real estate is cheap, and they make attractive stuff, and then all the well-off people come back in and drive up the rents so that neither the artists or the poor people can afford to be there anymore.

Fascinating article. Read the whole thing. (I’d hat tip but now it’s a day later THANKS A BUNCH TUMBLR and I’ve forgotten where I found it.)

In which The Economist improves my day.

The American legal system is the most lawyer-friendly on Earth. It is head-thumpingly complex. The regulations that accompany the Dodd-Frank law governing Wall Street, for example, are already more than 3m words long - and not yet half-written. Companies must hire costly lawyers to guide them through a maze created by other lawyers. They must also hire lawyers to defend themselves against attacks by other lawyers on a playing field built by lawyers. The cost - roughly $800 a year for every American - is passed on to consumers. The benefits are hard to detect. Americans are probably no less likely to be injured or cheated than the citizens of countries that spend a fraction as much.

So it is hard to muster sympathy for lawyers facing a tighter labour market.

Unfortunately the article goes on to be slightly more fair and sympathetic, which is a great pity.

Abandoned Yugoslavian Monuments From the Future

Really, you want to go see the whole set.

One of my key issues with human nature, in a nutshell.

The Economist’s Bagehot column last week talks about the role of the royal family and ends with a modest wish for its abolition.

Though the job description has evolved to include displays of human emotion, being a monarch still removes the queen far from normal experience. After nearly 60 years, she might as well be a unicorn or other mythical beast. At the same time, the royal family does touch the real world, albeit the part of it inhabited by what remains of the landed upper classes: a life of moors and deer-stalking, of summers under Scottish rain, dogs and horses, the church, the armed forces, the same few boarding schools and the right sort of nightclubs. That is more perilous territory: the British, in the main, dislike such people.

To put it plainly: if the royal family are like unicorns - existing outside society - their place is reasonably secure. If they sit atop high society, they are unsafe. Though her father was an earl, Diana’s loathing for horses, summers in Balmoral and the rest was a key plank of her case that she was a modern princess and a better parent than her husband, the Prince of Wales. She took her sons to theme parks in anoraks while their father took them, dressed in tweed, to kill animals.

I note also that this week’s Economist, in its beginning news briefs, said drily:

A young man and his fiancée were expected to get married in central London on April 29th. Millions of Britons took advantage of the opportunity to take a foreign holiday.

Strangely, today, this cheered me up. On some other day it might have the opposite effect.