Saturday, December 18, 2021

On The Waves: Web.3


 You may have missed, overlooked, ignored or discounted it, or maybe you’d just as soon leave it for others to discuss.

But along with the various waves of Covid variants, threats to democracy, vibrations of the stock market and climate disasters, the third great iteration of the worldwide web has washed in over our anklets.

Whether we wanted or needed it to come or not, the web is mutating again, which guarantees another round of insecurity for those who depend on it — which of course means everybody who is not hiding in a cave in Tora Bora.

Of all the people who are commenting on web.3, I’m probably the last person anyone should listen to. What do I know of the metaverse, blockchain, NFTs, bitcoin, or “digital scarcity”?

The answer is, of course, next to nothing. But I do know something about waves, having spent an inordinate portion of my life on beaches.

Waves come in patterns, they build, crest and break, and in the process they deposit new things at our toes. Actually, not so much new things as old things disguised as new things, like shells, driftwood, seaglass, jobs or investment opportunities.

Most importantly not all waves are created naturally. Any old boat can cause a wave in the right body of water.

That brings me to web.3. As with dot.com and Web 2.0, this third wave is being driven by developers, many of whom are idealistic and hoping to improve on the technologies and the social outcomes of the previous models, including doing a much better job of protecting the privacy of our personal data and establishing fairer ownership standards and exchanges of value.

Accordingly, a set of more democratic outcomes appears to be the goal of those constructing web.3. None of them want to further the centralization of the Big Data monopolies (Apple, Amazon, Google, Facebook — sorry, Meta, Yahoo, Twitter, Microsoft) that arose from the first two waves.

And as we enter this new digital phase, it’s also worth asking if and how it is going to affect the biggest issues we face — poverty, climate change, authoritarianism, hopelessness — beyond generating a rash of new fortunes for a few, and endlessly confusing software iterations for the many.

On the other hand, you might say, no one else has come up with much to address those universal issues, so why expect the best and the brightest of our tech geniuses to come to our rescue this time around? That isn’t exactly fair.

No it isn’t fair. 

So my one simple request of the new generation of developers and evangelists is that they do a better job at using words than the vague ones blowing in todays’ wind. Be precise, specific, honest, restrained, sensitive, kind, accurate and above all inclusive.

Languages fall into one of two categories — inclusive or exclusive. The outcome unfolds accordingly.

The words you choose matter. Stop excluding people.

TODAY’S NEWS:

TODAY’s LYRICS:

“Please Don’t Tell Me…”

Kris Kristofferson

This could be our last goodnight together

We may never pass this way again

Just let me enjoy 'till its over

Or forever

Please don't tell me how the story ends

See the way our shadows come together

Softer than your fingers on my skin

Someday this may be all

That we'll remember

Of each other

Please don't tell me how the story ends

Never's just the echo of forever

Lonesome as the love that might have been

Just let me go on loving and believing

'Till it's over

Please don't tell me how the story ends

Please don't tell me how the story ends

Friday, December 17, 2021

It's Life

 "Can I refill your eggnog for you? Get you something to eat? Drive you out to the middle of nowhere and leave you for dead?" — Clark Griswold

___________________________

The holiday season brings with it the usual flood of lackluster Christmas movies presumably meant to distract us from the orgy of unrestrained consumerism. Then again, there is something about “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” that will always resonate for us former head-of-household types.

And there is that exceptional, odd Frank Capra film, "It's a Wonderful Life." Until I read Zachary D. Carter's excellent essay in The Huffington Post (2018), there were many things I didn't know about that film or the Sicilian immigrant who made it.

Hoping to revive a career that had been disrupted by the war, Capra produced the film in 1946, but when it was released just before Christmas it bombed, losing a half million dollars at the box office. Critics panned it and Capra lost the rights and control of the film’s negatives.

His personal fortunes then proceeded to nose-dive, accelerated by the anti-Communist furor of the early 1950s. (His crime — like that of many thoughtful people — was he had briefly flirted with Marxism when he was younger.) 

His decline was such that he eventually reached a hopeless state and attempted suicide on a number of occasions. Rather like George Bailey.

Later, when he looked back on making the film that had helped ruin his career, he said: “I can’t begin to describe my sense of loneliness in making (it), a loneliness that was laced by the fear of failure. I had no one to talk to, or argue with.” 

As an aside, that probably describes what these holidays are like for many people, but for now let’s return to Capra’s story.

The Wonderful Life negatives lay forgotten and unvisited for almost three decades, by which time the film, considered worthless, had slipped into the public domain and was free for the taking. In the mid-1970s, the Public Broadcasting System did just that, becoming the first to air it since 1946. The commercial networks soon followed.

With that, a not-so-instant classic was (re)born. It’s now every bit as much a part of the season as Dickens’s “A Christmas Carol.”

Happily, Capra lived long enough to see this all come to pass before he joined the angels himself at the robust age of 94 in 1991. He had always maintained that “Wonderful Life" was the greatest film he ever made.

The main actors in the piece — James Stewart, Donna Reed, Lionel Barrymore — are long since dead, of course. But recently, two surviving members among the children cast in the movie confirmed that Capra indeed controlled every detail of the filming down to the slightest detail of their expressions and movements.

The main point of the film — that each life matters — is always worth revisiting at this time of year when for so many, life feels considerably less than wonderful.

Depression is a widespread mental condition. And suicidal thoughts are no stranger to one who is deeply depressed. But as in the story, there could be hidden value in holding on a little longer, perhaps helped along by an angel or two. 

Of course the inequalities of wealth displayed in the film are worse today in the world than they were in the America of post-World-War-Two, and the only way out of thatmess would be a radical redistribution of wealth, a la Marxism perhaps, which certainly isn’t going to be happening around here anytime soon.

So for now this is roughly as wonderful a life as we can make of it, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. And in any event, it wouldn’t be what it is if we were no longer a part of it.

Wit that, bring on Christmas! And maybe listen for someone’s bell to ring out there somewhere.

TODAY’S HEADLINES:

LYRICS

“The Older I Get”

Alan Jackson

Songwriters: Adam Wright / Hailey Whitters / Sarah Turner

The older I get

The more I think

You only get a minute, better live while you're in it

'Cause it's gone in a blink

And the older I get

The truer it is

It's the people you love, not the money and stuff

That makes you rich

And if they found a fountain of youth

I wouldn't drink a drop and that's the truth

Funny how it feels I'm just getting to my best years yet

The older I get

The fewer friends I have

But you don't need a lot when the ones that you got

Have always got your back

And the older I get

The better I am

At knowing when to give

And when to just not give a damn

And if they found a fountain of youth

I wouldn't drink a drop and that's the truth

Funny how it feels I'm just getting to my best years yet

The older I get

And I don't mind all the lines

From all the times I've laughed and cried

Souvenirs and little signs of the life I've lived

The older I get

The longer I pray

I don't know why, I guess that I've

Got more to say

And the older I get

The more thankful I feel

For the life I've had and all the life I'm living still

Thursday, December 16, 2021

The Lonely Plague

 In the past few days, several stories have appeared that try to capture the terrible and ongoing toll the pandemic is taking on our lives. 

First the numbers. The World Health Organization says there have been over 272 million cases with more than 5.33 million deaths and that is almost certainly an underestimate.

In the U.S. alone, over 800,000 have died. Three-quarters of them were elderly.

And as we’ve known from the beginning, this disease targets the old, the frail, the weak and the immunocompromised. According to the Times, we’ve lost one in every 100 adults aged 65 or over to the coronavirus. “Eighteen percent more older people died of all causes in 2020 than would have died in an ordinary year, according to data from the CDC.”

That is a lot of valuable “golden years” that have been lost.

Meanwhile, as Substack author Vinay Prasad has pointed out, as a society we may be pursuing anti-Covid policies that are seriously harming the youngest among us as well: 

School closure was the greatest self inflicted wound of the pandemic,” he writes. “Sensible European nations did not close primary school at all, or only for 6 weeks, but places in the USA remained closed for more than a year. This was a net negative for the health and well-being of children, and will damage this nation for years to come.”

Prasad and others argue that ongoing restrictions such as requiring cloth masks of children, enforcing quarantines when someone tests positive for Covid (most of which prove to be ‘false positives’), and vaccine mandates are not based in science and will have lasting repercussions on the intellectual and emotional development of an entire generation of toddlers and children.

Of course, there is an obvious contradiction when any policy-maker tries to protect both the young and the old at the same time. If the young are free to remain unmasked and unvaccinated because very few of them get sick from the virus, they may be at increased risk of spreading it to the elderly, who remain uniquely vulnerable to the worst health outcomes. So you can’t actually help one group without harming the other.

Nevertheless, while there has been a disproportionately negative impact on both ends of the age spectrum, what about the great majority of people who are neither young nor old? Most people are in the middle, however you define that. For them, there is this cautionary report in the Times:

“It is still unclear how much of a threat the fast-spreading Omicron variant poses, but fear and a sudden revival of restrictions have added to an epidemic of loneliness.” 

No kidding! As many people continue to react and perhaps over-react to each new spike in cases and the inevitable scare headlines appearing in the daily press, more and more tenuous bonds of friendship are being fractured.

Perhaps this is all part of the serious mental health impact of the pandemic, as well as the deeply divided and polarized political response, which started at the top. First, the U.S. had a President who dismissed the “China virus” as “fake news;” now, the country is headed by a President who takes Covid seriously but is powerless to heal the epidemic’s long-lasting damage to our national psyche.

In my humble opinion, we’ve all simply gone a little bit crazy. I see it all around me: People getting angry over trivialities, dividing up into camps, falling for ridiculous conspiracy theories, taking actions and comments personally that were not meant to be; isolating from one another unnecessarily, and more. 

It suggests to me that the only permanent outcome of Covid-19 may be mass loneliness. I’m certainly feeling lonely. Are you? 

As Ian Bogost writes plaintively in the Atlantic, “Everyone knows the past is gone, but now the past’s future feels lost too. I hope it’s not, but I can’t shake the feeling.”

I’d like to get that future back.

TODAY’s HEADLINES:

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

The Plague of Poverty: Afghan Conversation 20

 This the latest in an ongoing series of conversations with an Afghan friend trapped within his country. I am withholding his identity out of concern for his safety.

***

Dear David:

My sister is in her last year of university. Normally, when she goes home on winter vacation, she teaches about 100 students as a volunteer in the local school. But this winter she says that no one is interested in education any longer and half of the students have fled the country. So she will just spend the time reading books. 

The life of villagers in Afghanistan is such that they work from spring to autumn to provide enough food for themselves and their animals over the winter months. They typically can only afford 400 kilos of wheat and enough vegetables for about 10 sheep. They buy other things like beans, rice, oil, etc from the market. If a family member doesn’t work in Iran or another country, they can't even afford these things, so then the family is obligated to ask shopkeepers to loan them food. 

"I can't do anything as I did before," a friend in the village named Mohammad told me. "My feet are unable to move quickly in this desperation and uncertainty. You know that the passenger cars of Hazara people are being blown up with sticky bombs; the value of Afghani is collapsing every day, and the cost of food is rising accordingly. There is a drought, and the crops are shriveling. All the people in the village are frustrated; they don't work as enthusiastically as in previous years." 

Another friend who is a teacher told me: ”I haven't received my salary for five months now. Moreover, I don't have any friends in foreign countries who I borrow money from. I don't know what to do.

The situation is so dire that it is difficult to describe. With each passing day, we are encountering new problems. This week alone the value of the Afghani has decreased as much as in the past 20 years. The currency exchange has closed, as have some markets. There is no hope from the UN, as it can't feed 40 million hungry people. Only the citizens who are connected to the UN organizations directly are able to get the available aid. 

While the rest of the world battles Covid, this is the plague we live with.

***

TODAY’S HEADLINES: