Culture

Vigilantes

3 Comments / Arts & Letters, Culture, Movies, Politics / /

I recently finished watching both seasons of Dexter. The series has a fascinating premise: the titular hero, Dexter Morgan, is a forensic analyst (he’s a “blood spatter expert”) for the Miami police by day, but a serial killer by night. He operates by a “code,” only murdering other murderers (usually ones who’ve beaten the system). The most interesting thing about Dexter’s code is the implication that he does not follow the code out of some sort of dedication to morality or justice. He knows what he does is evil, but he follows his code because it’s the most constructive way to channel his aggression. Of course, the code is not perfect, and a big part of the series is how the code shapes him and how he, in turn, shapes it. To be honest, watching the series is a little odd and disturbing when you realize that you’re essentially rooting for a serial killer (an affable and charming one, to be sure, but that’s part of why it’s disturbing). I started to think about this a bit, and several other examples of similar characters came to mind. There’s a lot more to the series, but I don’t want to ruin it with a spoiler-laden discussion here. Instead, I want to talk about vigilantes.

Despite the lack of concern for justice (or perhaps because of that), Dexter is essentially a vigilante… someone who takes the law into his own hands. There is, of course, a long history of vigilantism, in both real life and art. Indeed, many classic instances happened long before the word vigilante was coined – for example, Robin Hood. He stole from the rich to give to the poor, and was immortalized as a folk hero whose tales are still told to this day. I think there is a certain cultural fascination with vigilantes, especially vigilantes in art.

Take superheroes, most of whom are technically vigilantes. Sure, many stand for all that is good in the world and often cite truth and justice as motivation, but the evolution of comic books shows something interesting. I haven’t read a whole lot of comic books (especially of the superhero kind), but the impression I get is that when the craze started in the 1930s, it was all about heroics and people serving the common good. There was also a darker edge to some of them, and that edge has grown as time progressed. Batman is probably the most relevant to this discussion, as he shares a complicated relationship with the police and a certain above-the-law attitude towards solving crimes. Interestingly, the Batman of the 1930s was probably a darker, more violent superhero than he was in the 1940s, when one editor issued a decree that the character could no longer kill or use a gun. As such, the postwar Batman became more of an upstanding citizen, and the stories took on a lighter tone (definitely an understandable direction, considering what the world had been through). I’m sure I’m butchering the Batman chronology here, but the next sigificant touchstone for Batman came in 1986, with the publication of Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. Written and drawn by Frank Miller, the series reintroduced Batman as a dark, brooding character with complex psychological issues. A huge success, this series ushered in a new era of “grim and gritty” superheros that still holds today.

In general, our superheroes have become much more conflicted. Many (like Batman) tackle the vigilante aspect head on, and if you look at something like Watchmen (or The Incredibles, if you want a lighter version), you can see a shift in the way such stories are told. I’m sure there are literally hundreds of other examples in the comic book world, but I want to shift gears for a moment and examine another cultural icon that Dexter reminded me of: Dirty Harry.

Inspector Harry Callahan is an incredibly popular character, but apparently not with critics:

Critics have rarely cracked the whip harder than on the Dirty Harry film series, which follows the exploits of a trigger-happy San Francisco cop named Harry Callahan and his junior partners, usually not long for this world. On its release in 1971, Dirty Harry was trounced as ‘fascist medievalism’ by the potentate of the haut monde critic set, Pauline Kael, as well as aspiring Kaels like young Roger Ebert. Especially irksome to the criterati was a key moment in the film when Inspector Callahan, on the trail of an elusive serial sniper, is reprimanded by his superiors for not taking into account the suspect’s Miranda rights. Callahan replies, through clenched teeth, “Well, I’m all broken up about that man’s rights.” Take that, Miranda.

I should say that critics often give the film (at least, the first one) generally good overall marks, praising its “suspense craftsmanship” or calling it “a very good example of the cops-and-killers genre.” But I’m fascinated by all the talk of fascism. Despite working within the system, Dirty Harry indeed does take the law into his own hands, and in doing so he ignores many of our treasured Constitutional freedoms. And yet we all cheer him on, just as we cheer Batman and Dexter.

Why are these characters so popular? Why do we cheer such characters on even when we know what they’re doing is ultimately wrong? I think it comes down to desire. We all desire justice. We want to see wrongs being made right, yet every day we can turn on the TV and watch non-stop failures of our system, whether it be rampant crime or a criminal going free or any other number of indignities. Now, I’m not an expert, but I don’t think our society today is much worse off than it was, say, a hundred years ago (In fact, I think we’re significantly better off, but that’s another discussion). The big difference is that information is disseminated more widely and quickly, and dramatic failures of the system are attention grabbing, so that’s what we get. What’s more, these stories tend to focus on the most dramatic, most obscene examples. It’s natural for people to feel helpless in the face of such news, and I think that’s why everyone tends to embrace vigilante stories (note that people don’t generally embrace actual real-life vigilantes – that’s important, and we’ll get to that later). Such stories serve many purposes. They allow us to cope with life’s tragedies, internalize them and in some way comfort us, but as a deeper message, they also emphasize that the world is not perfect, and that we’ll probably never solve the problem of crime. In some ways, they act as a critique of our system, pointing out it’s imperfections and thereby making sure we don’t become complacent in the ever-changing fight against crime.

Of course, there is a danger to this way of thinking, which is why critics like Pauline Kael get all huffy when they watch something like Dirty Harry. We don’t want to live in a police state, and to be honest, a real cop who acted like Dirty Harry would probably be an awful cop. Films like that deal in extremes because they’re trying to make a point, and it’s easy to misinterpret such films. I doubt people would really accept a cop like Dirty Harry. Sure, some folks might applaud his handling of the Scorpio case that the film documents (audiences certainly did!), but police officers don’t handle a single case in the course of their career, and most cases aren’t that black and white either. Dirty Harry would probably be fired out here in the real world. Ultimately, while we revel in such entertainment, we don’t actually want real life to imitate art in this case. However, that doesn’t mean we enjoy hearing about a vicious drug dealer going free because the rules of evidence were not followed to the letter. I think deep down, people understand that concepts like the rules of evidence are important, but they can also be extremely frustrating. This is why we have conflicting emotions when we watch the last scene in Dirty Harry, in which he takes off his police badge and throws it into the river.

I think this is a large part of why vigilante stories have evolved. Comic book heroes like Batman have become more conflicted, and newer comic books often deal with the repercussions of vigilatism. The Dirty Harry sequel, Magnum Force, was apparently made as a direct answer to the critics of Dirty Harry who thought that film was openly advocating law-sanctioned vigilantism. In Magnum Force, the villains are vigilante cops. Then you have modern day vigilantes like Dexter, which pumps audiences full of conflicting emotions. I like this guy, but he’s a serial killer. He’s stopping other killers, but he’s doing so in such a disturbing way.

Are vigilante stories fascist fantasies? Perhaps, but fantasies aren’t real. They’re used to illustrate something, and in the case of vigilante fantasies, they illustrate a desire for justice. The existence of a show like Dexter will repulse some people and that’s certainly an understandable reaction. In fact, I think that’s exactly what the show’s creators want to do. They’re walking the line between satisfying the desire for justice while continually noting that Dexter is not a good person. Ironically, what would repulse me more would be the complete absence of stories like Dexter, because the only way such a thing could happen would be if everyone thought our society was perfect. Perhaps someday concepts like justice and crime will be irrelevant, but that day ain’t coming soon, and until it does, we’ll need such stories, if only to remind us that we don’t live in a perfect world.

Exterminate

1 Comment / Arts & Letters, Humor, Security & Intelligence / /

Ok, I’m slacking. The top 10 movies of 2007 will be posted this Sunday. In the mean time, I leave you with this anti-terrorism suggestion from Charlie Stross (and yes, I’m posting this a few months late, but it’s still funny):

The solution to protecting the London Underground from terrorist suicide bombers can be summed up in one word: Daleks. One Dalek per tube platform, behind a door at the end. Fit them with cameras and remote controls and run them from Ken Livingstone’s office. Any sign of terrorism on the platform? Whoosh! The doors open and the Dalek comes out, shrieking “exterminate!” in a demented rasp reminiscent of Michael Howard during his tenure as Home Secretary, only less merciful.

The British are trained from birth to know the two tactics for surviving a Dalek attack; run up the stairs (or escalator), or hide behind the sofa. There are no sofas in the underground, but there are plenty of escalators. Switch them to run upwards when the Dalek is out, and you can clear a platform in seconds.

Suicide bombers are by definition Un-British, and will therefore be unable to pass a citizenship test, much less deal with the Menace from Skaro.

Heh.

The Two Days of Christmas

Culture, Movies / /

I suppose I could have done a 12 days of Christmas post in the vein of the 4 weeks of Halloween posts, but there’s obviously no time left. So here are a few things I’ve watched, read, or listened to recently in preparation for Christmas.

That’s all for now. Mery Christmas!

Rhetorical Strategy

Culture, Politics, Science & Technology / /

Every so often, I see someone who is genuinely concerned with reaching the unreachable. Whether it be scientists who argue about how to frame their arguments, alpha-geek programmers who try to figure out how to reach typical, average programmers, or critics who try to open a dialogue with feminists. Debates tend to polarize, and when it comes to politics or religion, assumptions of bad faith on both sides tend to derail discussions pretty quickly.

How do you reach the unreachable? Naturally, the topic is much larger than a single blog entry, but I did run accross an interesting post by Jon Udell that outlines Charles Darwin’s rhetorical strategy in the book, On the Origin of Species (which popularized the theory of evolution).

Darwin, says Slatkin, was like a salesman who finds lots of little ways to get you to say yes before you’re asked to utter the big yes. In this case, Darwin invited people to affirm things they already knew, about a topic much more familiar in their era than in ours: domestic species. Did people observe variation in domestic species? Yes. And as Darwin piles on the examples, the reader says, yes, yes, OK, I get it, of course I see that some pigeons have longer tail feathers. Did people observe inheritance? Yes. And again, as he piles on the examples, the reader says yes, yes, OK, I get it, everyone knows that that the offspring of longer-tail-feather pigeons have longer tail feathers.

By the time Darwin gets around to asking you to say the big yes, it’s a done deal. You’ve already affirmed every one of the key pillars of the argument. And you’ve done so in terms of principles that you already believe, and fully understand from your own experience.

It only took a couple of years for Darwin to formulate the idea of evolution by natural selection. It took thirty years to frame that idea in a way that would convince other scientists and the general public. Both the idea, and the rhetorical strategy that successfully communicated it, were great innovations.

I think Udell simplifies the inception and development of the idea of evolution, but I think the point generally holds. Darwin’s ideas didn’t come into mainstream prominence until he published his book, decades after he had begun his work. Obviously, Darwin’s strategy isn’t applicable in every situation, but it is an interesting place to start (I suppose we should keep in mind that evolution is still controversial amongst the mainstream)…

Facial Expressions and the Closed Eye Syndrome

2 Comments / Anime, Culture, Science & Technology / /

I’ve been reading Malcolm Gladwell’s book, Blink, and one of the chapters focuses on the psychology of facial expressions. Put simply, we wear our emotions on our face, and some enterprising psychologists took to mapping the distinct muscular movements that the human face can make. It’s an interesting process, and it turns out that people who learn these facial expressions (of which there are many) are eerily good at recognizing what people are really thinking, even if they aren’t trying to show it. It’s almost like mind reading, and we all do it to some extent or another (mostly, we do it unconsciously). Body language and facial expressions are packed with information, and we’d all be pretty much lost without that kind of feedback (perhaps why misunderstandings are more common on the phone or in email). Most of the time, our expressions are voluntary, but sometimes they’re not. Even if we’re trying to suppress our expressions, a fleeting look may cross our faces. Often, these “micro-expressions” last only a few milliseconds and are imperceptible, but when trained psychologists watch video of, say, Harold “Kim” Philby (a notorious soviet spy) giving a press conference, they’re able to read him like a book (slow motion helps).

I found this example interesting, and it highlights some of the subtle differences that can exist between expressions (in this case, between a voluntary and involuntary expression):

If I were to ask you to smile, you would flex your zygomatic major. By contrast, if you were to smile spontaneously, in the presence of genuine emotion, you would not only flex your zygomatic but also tighten the orbicularis oculi, pars orbitalis, which is the muscle that encircles the eye. It is almost impossible to tighten the orbicularis oculi, pars orbitalis on demand, and it is equally difficult to stop it from tightening when we smile at something genuinely pleasurable.

I found that interesting in light of the Closed Eye Syndrome I noticed in Anime. I wonder how that affects the way we perceive Anime. If a smiling mouth by itself means a fake expression of happiness while a smiling mouth and closed eyes means genuine emotion, does that make the animation more authentic? Animation obviously doesn’t have the fidelity of video or film, but we can obviously read expressions from animated faces, so I would expect that closed eye syndrome exists more because of accuracy than anything else. In my original post on the subject, Roy noted that the reason I noticed closed eyes in anime could have something to do with the way Japan and the US read emotion. He pointed to an article that claimed Americans focus more on the mouth while the Japanese focus more on the eyes when trying to read emotions from facial expressions. One example from the article was emoticons. For happiness, Americans use a smily face 🙂 while the Japanese tend to use ^_^ (which seems to be a face with eyes closed). That might still be part of it, but ever since I made the observation, I’ve noticed similar expressions in American animation (I just recently noticed it a lot in a Venture Bros. episode). Still, occurrences in American animation seem less frequent (or perhaps less obvious), so perhaps the observation still holds.

Gladwell’s book is interesting, as expected, though I’m not sure yet if he has a point other than to observe that we do a lot of subconscious analysis and make lots of split decisions, and sometimes this is good (other times it’s not). Still, he’s good at finding examples and drilling down into the issue, and even if I’m not sure about his conclusions, it’s always fun to read. There’s lots more on this subject in the book (for instance, he goes over how facial expressions and our emotions are a two way phenomenon – meaning that if you intentionally contort your face in an specific way, you can induce certain emotions. The psychologists I mentioned earlier who were mapping expressions noticed that after a full day of trying to manipulate their facial muscles to show anger (even though they weren’t angry) they felt horrible. Some tests have been done to confirm that, indeed, our facial expressions are linked directly to our brain) and it’s probably worth a read if that’s your bag.

The Paradise of Choice?

2 Comments / Best Entries, Computers & Internet, Culture, Science & Technology / /

A while ago, I wrote a post about the Paradox of Choice based on a talk by Barry Schwartz, the author of a book by the same name. The basic argument Schwartz makes is that choice is a double-edged sword. Choice is a good thing, but too much choice can have negative consequences, usually in the form of some kind of paralysis (where there are so many choices that you simply avoid the decision) and consumer remorse (elevated expectations, anticipated regret, etc…). The observations made by Schwartz struck me as being quite astute, and I’ve been keenly aware of situations where I find myself confronted with a paradox of choice ever since. Indeed, just knowing and recognizing these situations seems to help deal with the negative aspects of having too many choices available.

This past summer, I read Chris Anderson’s book, The Long Tail, and I was a little pleasantly surprised to see a chapter in his book titled “The Paradise of Choice.” In that chapter, Anderson explicitely addresses Schwartz’s book. However, while I liked Anderson’s book and generally agreed with his basic points, I think his dismissal of the Paradox of Choice is off target. Part of the problem, I think, is that Anderson is much more concerned with the choices rather than the consequences of those choices (which is what Schwartz focuses on). It’s a little difficult to tell though, as Anderson only dedicates 7 pages or so to the topic. As such, his arguments don’t really eviscerate Schwartz’s work. There are some good points though, so let’s take a closer look.

Anderson starts with a summary of Schwartz’s main concepts, and points to some of Schwartz’s conclusions (from page 171 in my edition):

As the number of choices keeps growing, negative aspects of having a multitude of options begin to appear. As the number of choices grows further, the negatives escalate until we become overloaded. At this point, choice no longer liberates, but debilitates. It might even be said to tyrannize.

Now, the way Anderson presents this is a bit out of context, but we’ll get to that in a moment. Anderson continues and then responds to some of these points (again, page 171):

As an antidote to this poison of our modern age, Schwartz recommends that consumers “satisfice,” in the jargon of social science, not “maximize”. In other words, they’d be happier if they just settled for what was in front of them rather than obsessing over whether something else might be even better. …

I’m skeptical. The alternative to letting people choose is choosing for them. The lessons of a century of retail science (along with the history of Soviet department stores) are that this is not what most consumers want.

Anderson has completely missed the point here. Later in the chapter, he spends a lot of time establishing that people do, in fact, like choice. And he’s right. My problem is twofold: First, Schwartz never denies that choice is a good thing, and second, he never advocates removing choice in the first place. Yes, people love choice, the more the better. However, Schwartz found that even though people preferred more options, they weren’t necessarily happier because of it. That’s why it’s called the paradox of choice – people obviously prefer something that ends up having negative consequences. Schwartz’s book isn’t some sort of crusade against choice. Indeed, it’s more of a guide for how to cope with being given too many choices. Take “satisficing.” As Tom Slee notes in a critique of this chapter, Anderson misstates Schwartz’s definition of the term. He makes it seem like satisficing is settling for something you might not want, but Schwartz’s definition is much different:

To satisfice is to settle for something that is good enough and not worry about the possibility that there might be something better. A satisficer has criteria and standards. She searches until she finds an item that meets those standards, and at that point, she stops.

Settling for something that is good enough to meet your needs is quite different than just settling for what’s in front of you. Again, I’m not sure Anderson is really arguing against Schwartz. Indeed, Anderson even acknowledges part of the problem, though he again misstate’s Schwartz’s arguments:

Vast choice is not always an unalloyed good, of course. It too often forces us to ask, “Well, what do I want?” and introspection doesn’t come naturally to all. But the solution is not to limit choice, but to order it so it isn’t oppressive.

Personally, I don’t think the problem is that introspection doesn’t come naturally to some people (though that could be part of it), it’s more that some people just don’t give a crap about certain things and don’t want to spend time figuring it out. In Schwartz’s talk, he gave an example about going to the Gap to buy a pair of jeans. Of course, the Gap offers a wide variety of jeans (as of right now: Standard Fit, Loose Fit, Boot Fit, Easy Fit, Morrison Slim Fit, Low Rise Fit, Toland Fit, Hayes Fit, Relaxed Fit, Baggy Fit, Carpenter Fit). The clerk asked him what he wanted, and he said “I just want a pair of jeans!”

The second part of Anderson’s statement is interesting though. Aside from again misstating Schwartz’s argument (he does not advocate limiting choice!), the observation that the way a choice is presented is important is interesting. Yes, the Gap has a wide variety of jean styles, but look at their website again. At the top of the page is a little guide to what each of the styles means. For the most part, it’s helpful, and I think that’s what Anderson is getting at. Too much choice can be oppressive, but if you have the right guide, you can get the best of both worlds. The only problem is that finding the right guide is not as easy as it sounds. The jean style guide at Gap is neat and helpful, but you do have to click through a bunch of stuff and read it. This is easier than going to a store and trying all the varieties on, but it’s still a pain for someone who just wants a pair of jeans dammit.

Anderson spends some time fleshing out these guides to making choices, noting the differences between offline and online retailers:

In a bricks-and-mortar store, products sit on the shelf where they have been placed. If a consumer doesn’t know what he or she wants, the only guide is whatever marketing material may be printed on the package, and the rough assumption that the product offered in the greatest volume is probably the most popular.

Online, however, the consumer has a lot more help. There are a nearly infinite number of techniques to tap the latent information in a marketplace and make that selection process easier. You can sort by price, by ratings, by date, and by genre. You can read customer reviews. You can compare prices across products and, if you want, head off to Google to find out as much about the product as you can imagine. Recommendations suggest products that ‘people like you’ have been buying, and surprisingly enough, they’re often on-target. Even if you know nothing about the category, ranking best-sellers will reveal the most popular choice, which both makes selection easier and also tends to minimize post-sale regret. …

… The paradox of choice is simply and artifact of the limitations of the physical world, where the information necessary to make an informed choice is lost.

I think it’s a very good point he’s making, though I think he’s a bit too optimistic about how effective these guides to buying really are. For one thing, there are times when a choice isn’t clear, even if you do have a guide. Also, while I think retailers that offer Recommendations based on what other customer purchases are important and helpful, who among us hasn’t seen absurd recommendations? From my personal experience, a lot of people don’t like the connotations of recommendations either (how do they know so much about me? etc…). Personally, I really like recommendations, but I’m a geek and I like to figure out why they’re offering me what they are (Amazon actually tells you why something is recommended, which is really neat). In any case, from my own personal anecdotal observations, no one puts much faith in probablistic systems like recommendations or ratings (for a number of reasons, such as cheating or distrust). There’s nothing wrong with that, and that’s part of why such systems are effective. Ironically, acknowledging their imperfections allow users to better utilize the systems. Anderson knows this, but I think he’s still a bit too optimistic about our tools for traversing the long tail. Personally, I think they need a lot of work.

When I was younger, one of the big problems in computing was storage. Computers are the perfect data gatering tool, but you need somewhere to store all that data. In the 1980s and early 1990s, computers and networks were significantly limited by hardware, particularly storage. By the late 1990s, Moore’s law had eroded this deficiency significantly, and today, the problem of storage is largely solved. You can buy a terrabyte of storage for just a couple hundred dollars. However, as I’m fond of saying, we don’t so much solve problems as trade one set of problems for another. Now that we have the ability to store all this information, how do we get at it in a meaninful way? When hardware was limited, analysis was easy enough. Now, though, you have so much data available that the simple analyses of the past don’t cut it anymore. We’re capturing all this new information, but are we really using it to its full potential?

I recently caught up with Malcolm Gladwell’s article on the Enron collapse. The really crazy thing about Enron was that they didn’t really hide what they were doing. They fully acknowledged and disclosed what they were doing… there was just so much complexity to their operations that no one really recognized the issues. They were “caught” because someone had the persistence to dig through all the public documentation that Enron had provided. Gladwell goes into a lot of detail, but here are a few excerpts:

Enron’s downfall has been documented so extensively that it is easy to overlook how peculiar it was. Compare Enron, for instance, with Watergate, the prototypical scandal of the nineteen-seventies. To expose the White House coverup, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein used a source-Deep Throat-who had access to many secrets, and whose identity had to be concealed. He warned Woodward and Bernstein that their phones might be tapped. When Woodward wanted to meet with Deep Throat, he would move a flower pot with a red flag in it to the back of his apartment balcony. That evening, he would leave by the back stairs, take multiple taxis to make sure he wasn’t being followed, and meet his source in an underground parking garage at 2 A.M. …

Did Jonathan Weil have a Deep Throat? Not really. He had a friend in the investment-management business with some suspicions about energy-trading companies like Enron, but the friend wasn’t an insider. Nor did Weil’s source direct him to files detailing the clandestine activities of the company. He just told Weil to read a series of public documents that had been prepared and distributed by Enron itself. Woodward met with his secret source in an underground parking garage in the hours before dawn. Weil called up an accounting expert at Michigan State.

When Weil had finished his reporting, he called Enron for comment. “They had their chief accounting officer and six or seven people fly up to Dallas,” Weil says. They met in a conference room at the Journal’s offices. The Enron officials acknowledged that the money they said they earned was virtually all money that they hoped to earn. Weil and the Enron officials then had a long conversation about how certain Enron was about its estimates of future earnings. …

Of all the moments in the Enron unravelling, this meeting is surely the strangest. The prosecutor in the Enron case told the jury to send Jeffrey Skilling to prison because Enron had hidden the truth: You’re “entitled to be told what the financial condition of the company is,” the prosecutor had said. But what truth was Enron hiding here? Everything Weil learned for his Enron expose came from Enron, and when he wanted to confirm his numbers the company’s executives got on a plane and sat down with him in a conference room in Dallas.

Again, there’s a lot more detail in Gladwell’s article. Just how complicated was the public documentation that Enron had released? Gladwell gives some examples, including this one:

Enron’s S.P.E.s were, by any measure, evidence of extraordinary recklessness and incompetence. But you can’t blame Enron for covering up the existence of its side deals. It didn’t; it disclosed them. The argument against the company, then, is more accurately that it didn’t tell its investors enough about its S.P.E.s. But what is enough? Enron had some three thousand S.P.E.s, and the paperwork for each one probably ran in excess of a thousand pages. It scarcely would have helped investors if Enron had made all three million pages public. What about an edited version of each deal? Steven Schwarcz, a professor at Duke Law School, recently examined a random sample of twenty S.P.E. disclosure statements from various corporations-that is, summaries of the deals put together for interested parties-and found that on average they ran to forty single-spaced pages. So a summary of Enron’s S.P.E.s would have come to a hundred and twenty thousand single-spaced pages. What about a summary of all those summaries? That’s what the bankruptcy examiner in the Enron case put together, and it took up a thousand pages. Well, then, what about a summary of the summary of the summaries? That’s what the Powers Committee put together. The committee looked only at the “substance of the most significant transactions,” and its accounting still ran to two hundred numbingly complicated pages and, as Schwarcz points out, that was “with the benefit of hindsight and with the assistance of some of the finest legal talent in the nation.”

Again, Gladwell’s article has a lot of other details and is a fascinating read. What interested me the most, though, was the problem created by so much data. That much information is useless if you can’t sift through it quickly or effectively enough. Bringing this back to the paradise of choice, the current systems we have for making such decisions are better than ever, but still require a lot of improvement. Anderson is mostly talking about simple consumer products, so none are really as complicated as the Enron case, but even then, there are still a lot of problems. If we’re really going to overcome the paradox of choice, we need better information analysis tools to help guide us. That said, Anderson’s general point still holds:

More choice really is better. But now we know that variety alone is not enough; we also need information about that variety and what other consumers before us have done with the same choices. … The paradox of choice turned out to be more about the poverty of help in making that choice than a rejection of plenty. Order it wrong and choice is oppressive; order it right and it’s liberating.

Personally, while the help in making choices has improved, there’s still a long way to go before we can really tackle the paradox of choice (though, again, just knowing about the paradox of choice seems to do wonders in coping with it).

As a side note, I wonder if the video game playing generations are better at dealing with too much choice – video games are all about decisions, so I wonder if folks who grew up working on their decision making apparatus are more comfortable with being deluged by choice.

The Spinning Silhouette

1 Comment / Computers & Internet, Culture, Science & Technology / /

This Spinning Silhouette optical illusion is making the rounds on the internet this week, and it’s being touted as a “right brain vs left brain test.” The theory goes that if you see the silhouette spinning clockwise, you’re right brained, and you’re left brained if you see it spinning counterclockwise.

Everytime I looked at the damn thing, it was spinning a different direction. I closed my eyes and opened them again, and it spun a different direction. Every now and again, and it would stay the same direction twice in a row, but if I looked away and looked back, it changed direction. Now, if I focus my eyes on a point below the illusion, it doesn’t seem to rotate all the way around at all, instead it seems like she’s moving from one side to the other, then back (i.e. changing directions every time the one leg reaches the side of the screen – and the leg always seems to be in front of the silhouette).

Of course, this is the essense of the illusion. The silhouette isn’t actually spinning at all, because it’s two dimensional. However, since my brain is used to living in a three dimensional world (and thus parsing three dimensional images), it’s assuming that the image is also three dimensional. We’re actually making lots of assumptions about the image, and that’s why we can see it going one way or the other.

Eventually, after looking at the image for a while and pondering the issues, I got curious. I downloaded the animated gif and opened it up in the GIMP to see how the frames are built. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure this thing is either broken or it’s cheating. Well, I shouldn’t say that. I noticed something off on one of the frames, and I’d be real curious to know how that affects people’s perception of the illusion (to me, it means the image is definitely moving counterclockwise). I’m almost positive that it’s too subtle to really affect anything, but I did find it interesting. More on this, including images and commentary, below the fold.

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The Spinning SilhouetteRead More »

Groping and Probing

3 Comments / Culture, Video Games / /

So a few recent installments of Shamus’ new comic, Chainmail Bikini, has created a bit of controversy. The comics in question are actually a series of 3 (the fact that there are 3 is a key part of the controversy, but we’ll get to that in a moment). Here they are:

The controversy stems from the fact that there is a malicious groping in comic #6. Perhaps due to an ill-advised punchline (“improved stamina”), the discussion turned from one of groping and larping and into one of rape. And we all know how funny discussions of rape can get.

To be honest, I didn’t find this particular arc in the comics very funny. However, I didn’t find it very offensive either (though I can see why some might think so). Also, while I didn’t find it especially funny, I do think it makes an interesting statement about gaming in general.

I don’t tend to read web-comics the same way I read blogs. I tend to let several installments build up, and then read them all. So I didn’t read this particular story arc until I knew about the controversy, and I must admit to a little bit of observer bias. Knowing there was a controversy colored my reading of the comic, and two things immediately struck me.

First is that while there is an element of one guy antagonizing his buddy, there is also an element of probing. By probing, I’m referring to exploration of the limits of a game and its possibilities. Steven Johnson’s book Everything Bad is Good for You has a chapter on Video Games which covers this concept really well, and I recently wrote about it:

Probing is essentially exploration of the game and its possibilities. Much of this is simply the unconscious exploration of the controls and the interface, figuring out how the game works and how you’re supposed to interact with it. However, probing also takes the more conscious form of figuring out the limitations of the game. For instance, in a racing game, it’s usually interesting to see if you can turn your car around backwards, pick up a lot of speed, then crash head-on into a car going the “correct” way.

Now again, in comic #6, one character is clearly attempting to antagonize his friend for choosing to role play a woman. However, I find it interesting that he chose to do so in such a way that is consistent with his character (who is a Chaotic Neutral barbarian) and followed the rules of the game (rolling die, etc…). According to the notes that accompany this arc, this sort of thing tends to happen when a campaign is not going well. If the players aren’t having fun, they’re going to make fun, and in if you’re in a role playing game, they’re going to do so by making their characters do something a little extreme. They don’t do this because they are really extreme people, but because they want to see what happens. In short, they want to knock the game off it’s boring rails. In this case, one player’s character player groped another player’s character. And from the aftermath in comics #7 and #8, you can see that things certainly got interesting. However, you also see that there were indeed consequences for the groping (one player physically assaults the other), and the comments that accompany each comic clearly attest that this is, in fact, a bad thing. To me, it’s clear that the character in the comic is engaging in probing, but the comic also makes it clear that in a game that is as open-ended as D&D, it’s possible to take things so far, which is why you saw a “real-world” reprisal (scare quotes due to the fact that this is a fictional comic, after all).

The second thing that struck me also had to do with the consequences. The situation immediately reminded me of this post from my friend Roy’s feminist blog. He found this german poster which has a picture accompanied by this text:

Warning! Women defend themselves! If you leer at, catcall, or touch a woman, take into account that you might be loudly ridiculed, have a glass of beer poured over you, or be slapped in the face. Therefore, we strongly advise you to refrain from such harrassment!

This is exactly what happend in comics #6 – #8. Well, not exactly. The comics actually take the consequences even further, while further abstracting the situation. Let me elaborate. The poster that Roy is pointing to is talking about real life situations. If you grope some woman at a bar, expect to be slapped in the face (or worse). What happened in the comics? An imaginary character who was role playing his own imaginary character groped another imaginary character that was being role played by yet another imaginary character. No one actually exists in this scenario, and yet there are indeed consequences for the groping. In fact, the consequences were the entire point of this character arc. So when I read comics #6-#8, I immediately saw them as a demonstration of Roy’s poster. (Ironically, you could even read into this more, saying that the consequences have actually broken free of the imaginary world of Chainmail Bikini and taken root in the real world – in the form of a long comment thread and multiple blog postings like this one).

Now, if one were so inclined, I can see why this arc would be grating. Personally, it doesn’t bother me, but I’ve never been groped (er, against my will) and I can certainly understand how that could be off-putting (I suppose an argument could be made that there are some other gender issues as well). And as an astute commenter at Shamus’ site points out, a lot of why this comic doesn’t work as humor is due to the structure of the story:

A lot of why this doesn’t work well as humour, and why it’s ended up annoying people, is to do with the structure of the comic. I think Shamus really struggled with fitting a potentially amusing gag into the three-panel format, and ultimately didn’t manage it successfully.

Here’s what I mean. Comic 6 Panel 1 has the line “I’m exploring gender roles within the context of a roleplaying environment”. The barbarian’s player throws these words back in comic 7 panel 2. It’s the punchline of a five-panel gag split over two comics. Structurally, this is a mess. It leads to a lame second gag to fill the rest of comic 7, but more importantly it means some sort of not-quite-a-punchline has to be contrived for the end of comic 6. That’s where “improved stamina” comes from. Whatever is said in subsequent comics, it is really hard to read comic 6 in isolation without inferring that the barbarian’s player intends to have his character vigorously sexually assault the female character. Because this is the last line of the comic, the additional implication is that we are meant to find this funny in itself. No wonder some people got offended.

Now, imagine doing the same thing over a slightly longer single comic of four or five panels. You would cut the “improved stamina” line for a start – it would serve no purpose any more. Instead, the comic ends on “I prefer to think of it as exploring gender roles within the context of a roleplaying environment”. The first advantage of this is that it’s a lot funnier. The punchline is where it’s supposed to be, not buried half-way through the next comic. The second advantage is that the potential for offending readers is greatly reduced. It no longer reads as though we’re meant to find rape or sexual assault funny: the humour is in the elf’s player having his pretentiousness deflated in a basically harmless, if tasteless, way.

Shamus himself has noted that this explanation is not only accurate, but a good explanation as to why people are offended by what he essentially saw as a harmless joke. This makes sense to me. He wrote a strip that touched on a controversial subject in a humorous way, but then he was forced to cut it up and insert artificial punchlines, one of which implied more than he thought. From his point of view, the comic is basically the same as before, but just split up a little. All the sudden people start talking about rape and unsubscribing to the comic. I can see why he’d be a bit perplexed by even a reasonable objection to the comic.

I’ve never been a particularly great writer. When I was in high school, I always excelled at math and science, but never did especially well at english or writing. By college, I was much more comfortable with writing, and part of the reason for that was that I realized that writing isn’t precise. Language is inherently vague and open to interpretation, and though there are some people who can wield language astoundingly well, most of us will open ourselves up to criticism simply by the act of experessing ourselves. One of my favorite quotes summarizes this well:

“To write or to speak is almost inevitably to lie a little. It is an attempt to clothe an intangible in a tangible form; to compress an immeasurable into a mold. And in the act of compression, how the Truth is mangled and torn!”

– Anne Murrow Lindbergh

Unfortunately, this simple miscommunication seems to have gotten lost in a thread of almost 200 comments. Some people have quit reading the comic altogether because of some perceived malice or ignorance on Shamus’ part, others have taken to turning this into a divisive debate about rape. I don’t want to start a holy war here, but when it comes to controversial stuff like this, I tend to give the creators the benefit of the doubt.

I think this whole controversy has brought up some interesting ideas, even if most have reduced it to a debate about rape. For instance, probing in games often takes the form of doing something extreme. My seemingly innocuous example above was turning your racecar around and driving the wrong direction to see what happens when you ram into another car. In real life, such an action would be catastrophic and could result in multiple deaths. Now, does doing something like that speak ill of me (the player)? How does wanton vehicular homicide compare to imaginary groping?

In my limited D&D gaming career, I played a Chaotic Evil thief who stole from his own party (i.e. one of my friends). Why did I do that? In real life, I’d never do such a thing. Why would I be interested in doing it in a role playing game? At a later point, I certainly suffered the consequences for my actions, and I think that’s the rub. Playing games is all about setting up a paradigm, and sometimes half the fun is attempting to pull it down and find the holes in the paradigm, just to see what happens. I think that’s a big part of why open-ended games like Grand Theft Auto are so popular. It’s not the act of stealing a car or murdering a stranger that’s fun, it’s the act of attempting to derail the game. (Again, I touched on this in a post on game manuals.) In a recent discussion on what people like about Role Playing Games (also at Shamus’ site), one of the most prominent answers was that good RPGs “…must give the player lots of freedom to make their own choices.” One of the things I really hated about God of War (an otherwise awsome game) was that the character I was playing was a real prick. At one point, he goes out of his way to kill an innocent bystander (something about kicking him down into the hydra maybe? I don’t remember specifically.) and that really annoyed me. What happened didn’t bother me so much as the fact that I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I don’t really have an answer here, but I like games that give me a lot of freedom, because once I get bored by the forced or scripted aspects of the game, I can probe for weaknesses in the paradigm, and maybe even exploit them.

Update: I just noticed that Roy has tackled this subject on his blog. He seems quite disheartened by Shamus’ post, though Roy wrote his post before the comment I quoted above was posted… My perception was that Shamus just couldn’t understand why people were objecting… but once someone actually pointed out, in detail, why the humor doesn’t work, he seemed to be more understanding (not only of why people were complaining, but of what people were suggesting by their complaints). But that’s just me. I don’t want to put words in Shamus’ mouth, but as I already mentioned, I tend to give creators the benefit of the doubt.

Halloweeny Links

2 Comments / Culture, Movies / /

Kaedrin’s own monkey research squad strikes again, with a pseduo-horror/Halloween theme. Enjoy:

  • Kernunrex’s Six Weeks of Halloween 2007: He of the Chronocinethon is taking a break from exhaustively exploring movies in chronological order, and watching lots of horror flicks in the six weeks leading up to Halloween. I wish I had thought of this (and had time to implement). I think the neatest thing about his schedule is that he sneaks in a bunch of shorts and trailers between his movies (for instance, he’s got the classic Simpsons episode, The Shinning and the great SNL Skit: Consumer Probe: Unsafe Halloween Costumes). I might have to do something like this in the near future. Or maybe I’ll just go to the 24 Hour Horrorthon in Philly.
  • Horror Movie a Day: This guy takes to watching Horror movies with a zeal unseen since, uh, Kernunrex. Crap. Still, this guy watches 1 horror movie a day and posts a quick capsule review.
  • Dungeons & Dragons: Celebrating 30 Years of Very Stupid Monsters: What can be more fearsome than the Duckbunny? I dunno, the picture of the Squark kinda looks like Cthulhu if you don’t look too close. And have poor vision. Also, with respect to the Giant Beaver (actual D&D monster), this snapple cap that’s been on my desk informs me that Beavers were once the size of bears! Ok, I’ll stop now. Lots of stupid monsters here.
  • The Legend of FacilityFocus: Funny “Underground Guide” for how to enter repair request using UPenn’s new web interface, done in the style of an adventure video game walkthrough. Is this horror? Well, as someone whose job involves usability, this is pretty horrific.
  • Plush Hellraiser: The Box. You Snuggled It. We Came. I’m mostly linking to this because of the brilliant title, but Widge has some neat suggestions for newly released plush Hellraiser toys.

Ok, so some of those are a stretch on the Halloween theme, but work with me here.

X-13D

Humor / /

a screenplay.

I actually wrote this a few months ago (posted in my forum) when these chips came out, but since I’m still short on time these days, I figured repurposed content is better than no content, so enjoy. One warning is that there is lots of profanity in the below…

1. INT. FRITO LAY BOARD ROOM – EVENING

A dozen men and women dressed in business attire sit around a table. Several appear to be ANGRY. Baskets of various chips and snacks are scattered throughout the table. Frito Lay executives are questioning our hero, Burt Dorito.

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 1: What the fuck!? This is the worst fucking chip I’ve ever fucking had. Foster! How many of these godforsaken things did we make.

FOSTER: We have somewhere on the order of 1500 tons of it at the warehouse.

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 1: FUCK!

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 2 (in unison): FUCK!

BURT DORITO: They’re not that bad. They taste like hamburgers! With pickles!

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 2: They’re fucking horrible. They taste like fucking hamburgers. With fucking pickles.

FOSTER: Burt, did you forget that 3 people have just vomited from eating these chips? Christ, I think I’m going to vomit.

BURT DORITO: Stop exaggerating. Those people were already sick. It had nothing to do with the chips.

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 1: You better have a fucking plan you fucking twit. This fucking shit is going to fucking ruin us.

BURT DORITO: They’re good, let’s just release them. We can call it the American Classic Burger or something.

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVES 1 and 2 sit in silence while GLARING at BURT DORITO.

MARKETING WEENIE 1: I think I have an idea.

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 1: Who the fuck are you?

MARKETING WEENIE 2: He’s our top marketing guy. Whaddaya got Bill?

MARKETING WEENIE 1: Well, I figure our best bet is to market the new flavor in such a way that the customer doesn’t know what they’re buying.

BURT DORITO: What the fuck are you talking about!? How the fuck are you going to do that? People are going to want to know what they’re eating, aren’t they?

MARKETING WEENIE 2: You think people know they’re eating Monosodium Glutamate when they eat Doritos?

MARKETING WEENIE 1: Look, it’s easy. We’ll do a contest or something. We can simply pretend that we don’t know what to name the new flavor, and allow customers to enter by submitting names for the new chip.

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 1: I think “Shitburger” will work.

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 2: Good work Marketing Weenies. Hey asshat, what’s the project number on this atrocity?

BURT DORITO: X-13D

FRITO LAY EXECUTIVE 1: Great, print it.

2. INT. WAWA MARKET – NOON

Several people enter WAWA, looking to get some lunch. The store is CROWDED. Two SCHMUCKS, JANE and MARK, order a sandwhich, grab their ticket and go to get a drink and snack to go with their sandwhich. As they approach the snack isle, they notice something new:

MARK: Whoa, what the fuck is that?

JANE: Looks like a new flavor of Doritos!

MARK: Yeah, but what flavor.

JANE: I dunno. Looks like they want us to name it for them.

MARK: Lazy fuckers.

JANE: Yeah.

MARK: I’m intrigued though. I’m getting it.

JANE: Me too.

3. EXT. WEST CHESTER TOWNSHIP PARK – NOON

Several people sit at a PICNIC TABLE, enjoying their lunch.

MARK: Gross

JANE (in unison): Gross

4. INT. DESK – MIDNIGHT

MARK: I’m sure I’m giving these Frito Lay people way too much credit.

Yeah, so don’t get those X-13D Doritos. Unless you like the idea of a Dorito that tastes like a hamburger (with pickles). While I’m at it, let’s use their marketing website against them:

A nice bag of Shitburger Supreme Doritos

Hehe.