Crowdsourced

Some guy at Slate went to a lot of effort to let us know the ten worst catchphrases of 2011. I confess that the only reason I looked at it was to see if it included an annoying tic I see a lot, especially in online comments. It almost always closes the anonymous burst of brilliance, and it is this: “Just sayin’.” God, do I hate that.

Well, Mr. Slate Guy did not include it, and here’s probably why: some guy at Gawker complained about it in 2009.

I think I can confidently predict we’ll be seeing Mr. Slate’s 10 awful crutches (some of which aren’t so awful, but—whatever*) in 2013.
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*Banned in 1997.[citation needed]

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Hitch

Alas, poor Hitchens. I knew him. We all knew him, in a way we rarely come to know other journalists and pundits. I’d also met him, but that doesn’t give me special standing.* He met thousands of people, and they will all lay claim to a piece of Hitchens.

Even when he went off the rails about the existential threat from a homicidal sliver of Islam, or when he pointlessly betrayed a comrade in the service of his boundless animus toward the Clintons, he was interesting to read and even more fascinating to listen to—those long, sinuous sentences that came rumbling out of his belly. Anyone who has as many strong opinions as he had is bound to be wrong a certain percentage of the time. That wasn’t a problem.

The problem, I think, was that he was, first and foremost, a debater, with a debater’s ability to store up phrases and facts as potential weapons, marshall them smartly at the appropriate time, and destroy one’s interlocutor; not just best them—turn them into a spluttering mass of pathetic jelly. This tended to manicheanize his thinking, which made for a bracing spectacle, but could leave one hungering for gray shades, and lots of them.

The funny thing was, he seemed genuinely to like people, and the people he tussled with most ferociously seemed to like him back. He was a boozer with a boozer’s bonhomie, but I think it went beyond than that. Many commentators have noted his increasing tendency to personalize the big issues of the day, and there is likely a deep psychology of personal loss and a need to belong-without-belonging that helps explain this. While he was not the ideal poster boy for atheism (but then, who is?), he certainly went at it with gusto and élan.

For better or worse, Hitch was a man of words, and his death had unleashed a good-sized torrent of them. Slate, in particular, has put out a veritable flood of encomia and remembrances. He comes off very well, indeed, in his last journalistic home (why am I leaving out Vanity Fair? says something about me …). Gary Kamiya at Salon is more balanced; Dave Zirin in The Nation has a rather shocking tale to tell. I think the assessment that best reflects my own feelings is Katha Pollitt’s. At the end, she asks the same question my wife and I had mulled over together: will he be read in fifty years? We three think it unlikely. But he certainly affected us, now.

Okay, that’s enough about old Christopher. Time to read Glenn Greenwald’s latest.

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*Nor does our exchange of letters back in 1989—his charming, mine jejune. I had shared a letter I sent to the New York Times defending him against a dumb attack by A.M. Rosenthal that, unsurprisingly, went unpublished.

Extract from a Hitchens letter

Addendum 2011.12.22: Hitchens would have had a good snort over this. Not sure what he would have thought about dying on the very day the Iraq invasion is declared over. Maybe another snort. (“Over? Riiight.”) Also, I hadn’t noticed that Greenwald had written a long piece about Hitchens on the 17th. Sobering stuff.

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Generation

Will Occupy Wall Street be able to keep up the pressure through the winter? Well, that depends on a lot of things, and not just the weather. Even if enthusiasm remains high, you’ve got mayors and police forces to deal with.

Among the innovative approaches OWS has taken, one in particular caught my fancy: bicycle-powered generators. I want one of them!

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Jobs

Steve Jobs died on October 4, and much is being said about him. There’s no doubt he was an interesting guy. Although I have never owned an Apple product, I don’t care to get into the hoary and endless Mac vs. PC debate, or offer a tedious analysis of what Apple once was compared to what it is now.

No, I’ll just drop a Steve Jobs quote and get on with it:

Bicycle brainI read a study that measured the efficiency of locomotion for various species on the planet. The condor used the least energy to move a kilometer. Humans came in with a rather unimpressive showing about a third of the way down the list … That didn’t look so good, but then someone at Scientific American had the insight to test the efficiency of locomotion for a man on a bicycle. And a man on a bicycle blew the condor away. That’s what a computer is to me: the computer is the most remarkable tool that we’ve ever come up with. It’s the equivalent of a bicycle for our minds.

The image is from an online article about a carbon fiber–based bicycle that will be operated through brainwaves. It was not developed by Apple. But! But!

The biker will be able to shift the gears with the help of a neuron helmet. The special helmet is equipped with electrodes to detect brain activity to transmit signals to the gear shifter fixed under the seat. But initially the cyclist will have to train his ride to obey his mind. This guidance can be done through an iPhone application in which a cube remains in motion until the technology matches it with neurotransmission. [emphasis added]

Now will you bow down to your Cupertino overlords, WorldWideWeber? “Get on with it,” indeed.

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WWGD?

There’s nothing like an execution—especially the execution of someone who is probably not guilty of the crime he was charged with—to give the lie to the claim that America is a “Christian nation.”

Genghis Khan

There’s no need to belabor the point. We don’t turn the other cheek; we don’t trust Samaritans, good or otherwise; we certainly don’t love our enemies, and we are fully capable of turning a blind eye to all manner of injustices committed in our name, across the ocean or right in our backyard.

Oh, we can be generous—when we can spare it. We do feel sorry for starving children in far-off places, and kitties that face euthenization. But when push comes to shove, we Americans shove—and then some.

When faced with a difficult decision, one that tries their moral core, some people are guided by a simple question, invoking the name of the sweet, forgiving, loving person they profess to adore and strive to imitate. But due to a diabolical twist of the tongue, an unconscious communal speech defect, it comes out this way: “What would Genghis do?”

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Dumbstruck

It’s not that nothing interesting happened in August.

Maybe because it was unusually busy, or maybe because I’m becoming increasingly lazy, it will all go unrecorded for now—my faithful reader will have to wait.

Bits of August 2011 will undoubtedly get stuck in with other bits of experience and show up in this space eventually as a woven object of some sort.

For now, it’s all being held in reserve, maybe even fermenting without my knowing.

And, once again, a month will appear in the archive list with an embarrassed look on its face.

I have to admit, though, that as I watch the world through my own little eyes, more and more often I am simply speechless. And more and more I feel as if I’m drowning in other people’s words.

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Nyawking

Random stuff from a recent brief visit to New York City …

Bike secured in Manhattan

There seemed to be more bicycles on the streets than in years past. Two things set them apart from the DC variety: many seats are covered with plastic bags, and most of the bikes sport kick-ass locks and chains.

Doorway on W. 17th

A doorway on West 17th—maybe you can make out the boobs for eyes. (Unfortunately, the rise of smart phones has led to a resurgence of poor-quality photography. Since I was lugging all my belongings around Manhattan in a backpack for two days, I decided to leave my real cameras at home. I suppose the phone camera is better than nothing …)

Central Park crane

Some kind of bird in the pond at the south end of Central Park—a crane? (Yes, there’s a bird somewhere in there.) I was just a little surprised to see it in the middle of the city.

Central Park rock

Also in Central Park: a nice rock resting on one of the many outcroppings. The temperature was in the nineties, so the breakdown of people moving and people reclining/sitting in the shade was about 50-50. I spent half my time doing each.

Despite the heat, you were rarely out of earshot of music being played on various instruments. I have no idea what this one is called—it had a single string attached to a board at one end and a flexible stick at the other. It was amplified, and the player changed the pitch and vibrato by manipulating the stick. (He was also accompanied by canned music.)

Addendum 2011.07.22: Forgot to mention our visit to the Society of Illustrators on East 63rd, which had a show devoted to the cover art of pulp fiction from the ’30s–’50s. Also had a great buffet lunch in the Society’s dining room, courtesy of cousin Nishan, who is a member.

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Snapshot

A day in the life of Russia, 14 July 2011, courtesy of headlines in the Argumenty i fakty phone app. Some of the stories seem to have disappeared, so I can’t provide links.

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Sharing

I’ve watched with some fascination the arrival of bike sharing in the Washington, DC, area—and its continued growth. I now pass a half-dozen Capital Bikeshare racks on my daily commute, and on many days—especially sunny days—they’re either empty or almost so.

The other day, I pulled up alongside a guy in a suit on a Bikeshare bike on Key Bridge and asked him something I could easily have researched online but hadn’t: did he have to return the bike where he got it? No, he did not. I was mildly surprised (and wished I could do the same with a Zipcar), but it obviously makes the system more attractive and worth the extra effort it takes to get bikes to where they’re needed.

Plans were recently announced to expand the program to Montgomery County. What took them so long?

Will bike sharing ever be as popular in the US as it is in Hangzhou, China? This city of seven million has 50,000 public bikes, available at 2,050 bike stations. Capital Bikeshare currently has a mere 1,100 bikes at 110 stations. London has 5,500 bikes. New York City is still trying to get their program off the ground.

The Financial Times recently ran a great story about bike sharing in London, which is enormously popular. One passage in particular resonated with me. The reporter decided to shadow a few riders to get a sense of how the system works:

A man in a suit with silver hair and a pink shirt was getting into the saddle, and I asked if he would mind if I could follow him. Tom Stafford, an independent financial adviser fresh in from Guildford, said that was fine. He was going to his office near Baker Street. The journey would take about 20 minutes.

Stafford, who said he uses the bikes every day unless it is actually raining—even on wet days, the bikes are used 12,000 times—rode fast. Cutting round the back of Covent Garden, he went smartly over a zebra crossing just as a woman with brown hair was stepping out. “It’s a pedestrian crossing, you idiot,” she said. Stafford plunged on. Neither of us mentioned it until a few minutes later, when Stafford confided that people on foot are the biggest danger to cyclists in London. “They’ve got their iPods in and they’re not looking,” he said. “If she decides she wants to step out … Well. I don’t want to stop when I’ve got some momentum.”

Pedestrians! [Rant redacted. If you like reading rants, click here and say the magic word.]

Mr. Stafford was probably in the wrong. He has no right to barrel into, or buzz, someone in a crosswalk. Yes, it would have been nice if the woman had understood that it’s much easier for her to stop and start than it is for a cyclist. The energy expenditures just aren’t comparable. A bicyclist naturally want to keep rolling; a bicycle is not designed for stop-and-start traffic. Unfortunately, unless you’re a cyclist, you won’t understand that—such thinking would be totally alien to you. And it’s probably silly for bicyclists to expect any random person on the street to understand it.

The bottom line is: Mr. Stafford had an opportunity to be chivalrous (if not merely law-abiding) and he passed it up. That’s a counterexample I will try ever to keep in mind. (Until the glorious day arrives when the law says everyone must always yield to bikes, hurrah!)

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Hitchhiker

I must’ve felt something rustling around on my head. Or maybe I always run my hand through my hair when I take my helmet off after biking. In any case, today I discovered a freeloader:

Bug and Gomyo

It was escorted out of the house on a flyer from the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, featuring violinist Karen Gomyo. Got in her hair as well, looks like.

Here’s a close-up of the little bugger:

A bug

Anybody know what it is?

I figure I picked it up while peddling through the woods on the Capital Crescent Trail—lots of insects in the air in certain stretches. (Peddle with your mouth closed—that’s my advice.)

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