Pray for change

Sometimes, dear readers, simpler is better.

During my week away from the office, I spent a bunch of time working on rebuilding/redesigning this blog. Midway through the process, it occurred to me that this involved three tasks:

  1. Learning how the WordPress database system runs the site
  2. Learning how Cascading Style Sheets (CSS) and plain old HTML display the site
  3. Doing the actual graphic design for the site

I picked up a bunch of tricks as part of 1) and 2), but I also found a template that I liked, which eliminated a chunk of 3). So I uploaded that and have been tweaking away at it all day. I’m trying to add a third column on the left, so as to redistribute some of the stuff that’s currently in the column on the right side of the page. At present, I’ve been stymied, but once I’m back at the office, I’ll be able to ask our IT guy for the incredibly simple thing that I’m overlooking.

Why did I want to get away from the old site? I was bored, and it was either this or spring $1,500 on a new MacBook. That said, I really like the cleanness of the site. I spent a while trying to figure out the right array of fonts to use, before I decided to visit a million different design-oriented websites and blogs. There, I realized that you just can’t go overboard with web-fonts, since it leaves the reader in the lurch if he doesn’t happen to have the right ones on his computer. So it’s Arial and Helvetica for you!

I may update that a little, or come up with some alternate fonts for different stylization purposes, but I’m pretty satisfied with the legibility of this layout. I’ll add a “change font size” function in the next few days, and will probably use a few more neat little WordPress add-ons, once I get that third column going.
Let me know what you think.

Unrequired Reading: Nov. 24, 2006

It’s the Black Friday edition of Unrequired Reading, dear unreaders! Amy & I are skipping out on the shopping chaos, since we took care of a bunch of it during our Paris trip. Plus, what with these here internets, we can get plenty of holiday shopping done from the comfort of the old fainting couch! Without further ado:

Here’s a BW piece on how the Analog Meat Market is performing. No, it’s not an article about offline dating services, it’s about The Rise of Tofurky!

* * *

Michael Kinsley has decided that, because “the market” doesn’t set “the right price” for a share of stock in a company, capitalism is inherently flawed.

* * *

Poor Kinsley. If only the state could become more involved in determining how companies do business. Well, actually, there was significant legislation passed during the Clinton administration to “shame companies” into doing the president’s idea of the right thing:

Clinton’s brainstorm: Use the tax code to curb excessive pay. Companies at the time were allowed to deduct all compensation to top executives. Clinton wanted to permit companies to write off amounts over $1 million only if executives hit specified performance goals. He called [Graef Crystal, author of a book on corporate greed] for his thoughts. “Utterly stupid,” the consultant says he told the future President.

Now, 13 years after Clinton’s plan became law, the results are clear: It didn’t work. Over the law’s first decade, average compensation for chief executives at companies in Standard & Poor’s 500-stock index soared from $3.7 million to $9.1 million, according to a 2005 Harvard Law School study. The law contains so many obvious loopholes, says Crystal, that “in 10 minutes even Forrest Gump could think up five ways around it.”

* * *

Even when people try the old Robin Hood routine, it goes awry (thanks, Faiz)!

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Charles Krauthammer doesn’t like Borat.

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When I first saw the Beth Sholom Synagogue designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, I called it “Battlestar Judaica.” Here’s a piece about the architecture of houses of worship, which seems to be an excuse to post a sldeshow of neat photos.

* * *

I really need to sit down and read the Aeneid sometime.
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I’ve long contended that Paul Allen has the anti-Midas touch, but I had no idea that his Portland Trailblazers have the most incredibly messed-up business situation in professional sports. This one’s long, but it makes for pretty entertaining reading, if only to find out that a man worth $22 billion should never come along with you to negotiate buying a car.
* * *

I don’t have any pity for car salesmen, esp. after the guy at the Mini place tried scamming Amy into buying a $550 stereo system. Looks like they’re under plenty of pressure.

* * *

And, in honor of Black Friday, a Christmas display you won’t forget (thanks, Tina).

Thanks!

To all my American readers out there, happy Thanksgiving! Amy’s already started with the cooking, while I’m engaged in the traditional parsing of database structures of WordPress blogs. I plan to have the new look for the site up by Sunday, but I think Amy’s bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with goat cheese will turn out better.

Have a great day, and if you’re celebrating with family, show ’em some love.

You know how I know YOU’RE gay?

On Friday, I said these things:

a) “Madonna’s new album is pretty good!” (except for the talking parts)

b) “I really need to get that new Scissor Sisters record!” (sorry I didn’t get to them sooner, Tina)

Anyway, I’m out of the office till Monday, so it’s time to get about 10 million things done around the house. I’m hoping to give this site a facelift, so if you have trouble logging in during the next few days, try back later.

Too marvelous for words

In the new City Journal, Theodore Dalrymple lays a whomping on Steven Pinker’s theory of language development. Dalrymple being Dalrymple, he draws out the moral implications of Pinker’s theory:

The contrast between a felt and lived reality — in this case, Pinker’s need to speak and write standard English because of its superior ability to express complex ideas — and the denial of it, perhaps in order to assert something original and striking, is characteristic of an intellectual climate in which the destruction of moral and social distinctions is proof of the very best intentions.

Given that Dad’s english isn’t among his top two languages, and that my first writing influence was Stan Lee, I’m pretty amazed that this site isn’t filled with pages of fragmented alliteration. Fortunately, I had Mom (and Chris Claremont).

Cat, cradle, spoon, etc.

Yesterday at lunch, I read some more of Kaddish. The book doesn’t focus too heavily on the writer’s father — I mean, it’s not a Mitch Albom schmalzfest or anything — but it does get me thinking a lot about Dad and what went through during his heart surgery in spring 2005.

I gave my dad a call after lunch, and we shot the breeze for a little while. He filled me in on the Premiership soccer package he gets on satellite, his cardiologist’s advice that he get a defibrillator installed, and how he’s getting his gutters cleaned for $70.

I let him know about some of the goings-on at home. One piece of news that he didn’t know about was that Amy bought a new car. Dad lent us his 1993 Cherokee last spring; Amy drives it down to the bus stop and back each day, a 2-mile round trip and, while it’s not quite on its last legs, it is getting pretty old.

“Now that she’s saved up,” I told Dad, “she’s getting a Mini Cooper S.”

“That’s great!” he said. “How much did you get for the Cherokee?”

“What? The Cherokee? . . . Pop, we didn’t sell your car.”

And that’s when it struck me: my brother & I are going to have a tough time keeping a straight face reading that mourner’s kaddish someday.

Underworld evolution

If you’re like me (fate worse than etc.), you revel in the amazing subway stations in foreign countries. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best intro to this article about making art from metro stops:

Building beautiful metro stations isn’t just a chance for cities to show off. It also provides valuable exposure for up-and-coming local artists and architects, giving them a chance to bring their work to the masses. “Artists have a captive audience,” says Edward Barber, director of programs at the London College of Fashion, who has been involved in the city’s Platform for Art initiative.

The accompanying slideshow has a pic of one of my faves: the Arts et Metiers stop in Paris, which looks like Jules Verne’s Nautilus.

(Bonus: my pics of the metro stop in Brussels decorated with a massive mural by Herge)

Breakfast of Regular Season Champions

I’m a man of routines. Once I hit upon a good way to do things, I stick with it. When I was on Atkins, it was no problem for me to consume 3 scrambled eggs, a spicy Thai chicken sausage, a banana, water and black coffee, every single morning. Every single goddamn morning. This practice worked out just fine, until my cholesterol started to blow up.

So I changed things up. Now it’s a bowl of Wheaties with some chopped dates, 1% organic milk, and the aforementioned banana, water and black coffee. It works, and I stick with it almost without fail.

But now there’s a problem. See, when you buy a box of Wheaties, you’re not just buying cereal; you’re buying The Breakfast of Champions. And sometimes General Mills’ idea of champion isn’t the same as mine.

After the Yankees got wrecked in the first round of the playoffs, Amy & I decided that we just couldn’t buy Wheaties with Alex “reigning AL MVP” Rodriguez on the box. It was too insulting, to see that grim demeanor and that looping swing, knowing that he’d been shown up on baseball’s biggest stage as a punk-ass bitch.

For a while, we were able to make do with leftover Shaq & Wade NBA championship boxes. When they ran out, we even started getting the smaller-sized box (Steve Nash), but my persistent case of cheap Jew stereotypism keeps me from buying the less economical size.

The situation is growing dire. The cereal aisle is filled with box upon box of home-run-swinging A-Rod, mocking us with his failure to deliver a timely hit in a big game. Will a new MVP never be crowned?

I fear that if I have to resort to that cereal, I will become like him. Perhaps I’ll write many pages of great editorial in the lesser issues of my magazine, but come October’s AAPS special, or come the July/August Top Companies issue, I’ll wilt.

The risk is too great. Maybe I can get by with BooBerry or the Cap’n.

Will there never be another Olympics?

Unrequired Reading: Nov. 17, 2006

What we see at Ground Zero and what we will see:

When the towers first fell and, in practically the same moment, so many turned to imagining their replacement, I was appalled. Later, when I started to write about the site, I avoided proposing designs of my own, both because they were banal and impracticable — I thought it would be cool to flood the bathtub — and because I felt such activities were beyond the scope of a responsible critic. I would often say, however — as I think I wrote or at least implied here once — two things: that the ultimate form of the reconstruction was unimportant as long as the process to achieve it, from the first planning session through the ribbon-cutting, was conducted with dignity; and second, that New York should be left to be New York.

t was as obvious then as now that those two ideas were in absolute conflict — that the city could in no way be the one we love and also comport itself with a special reserve — so I concocted a third idea, one that has proved remarkably durable, by way of resolution.

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Last week in this space, I mentioned that Donald Rumsfeld is more than just The Guy Who Blew the Iraq War. He also tried to revolutionize/transform the U.S. military. This profile on him in the New Yorker is more charitable than I expected, or at least more willing to see the grays than to place him in a Manichean context.

And he blew the Iraq war.

* * *

Look, kids! An interview with writer, critic and Official VM Buddy Paul Di Filippo!

What do you use for note-taking, capturing ideas and tracking submissions? Are you a proponent of pencil and notebook; do you favour proprietary software; or is it open source everything for you, even though your initials are PDF?

I am old-fashioned enough to still stick with pen and paper for my note-taking. I have a pocket notebook brand that I love, Oxford Memo Books, because it’s sewn together instead of employing a metal spiral, and so when you sit on it, it doesn’t imprint your butt like something out of a Re/Search tribal scarification volume.

* * *

From science fiction to science disappointment: the 25 worst tech products of all time.

8. Microsoft Internet Explorer 6 (2001)

Full of features, easy to use, and a virtual engraved invitation to hackers and other digital delinquents, Internet Explorer 6.x might be the least secure software on the planet. How insecure? In June 2004, the U.S. Computer Emergency Readiness Team (CERT) took the unusual step of urging PC users to use a browser — any browser — other than IE. Their reason: IE users who visited the wrong Web site could end up infected with the Scob or Download.Ject keylogger, which could be used to steal their passwords and other personal information. Microsoft patched that hole, and the next one, and the one after that, and so on, ad infinitum.

* * *

If you’re a professional basketball fan, and you like getting some idea of what goes on behind the scenes in player negotiations, you really need to read this long and candid interview with the owner of the Minnesota Timberwolves, Glen Taylor.

I can tell you that Chauncey [Billups] left not because of Kevin [McHale, the team’s GM] but because of Flip [Saunders, the Wolves’ coach]. Now, have we said that? We didn’t want to say that about Flip because he was here at the time. But I think since then it’s been stated that Kevin asked me if I would pay for Chauncey. I said I would. Kevin said he would, went to Chauncey, Chauncey said he would stay, because we were going to offer him the same [money] as Detroit. But then Chauncey went to Flip and said, would you play me, and Flip — I’m not saying that Flip said the wrong answer, but he said, “I’m not sure that I think that you’re our starting guard.” Chauncey then went back to Kevin, and Kevin says, basically, we’re going to be truthful. Kevin could have said to Chauncey, “Oh, we’re gonna start you.” And I know some GMs do that stuff. Then they get the player but they have an unhappy player. But Kevin doesn’t do that.

Unfortunately, it looks like questions about the remarkably stupid tampering arrangement with Joe Smith were off limits. This is a pity, because you can pretty easily make the case that the T-Wolves would’ve been in much better shape if they had draft picks over the years. But losing those picks and having a salary cap-buster like Garnett on the team meant they had to be the most creative team in the NBA. And with Kevin McHale running the show, that made it a recipe for disaster.

* * *

Amy sent me this great post by Dan Jardine on the varieties of cinematic inexperience:

I am not of the Pauline Kael School of film criticism that argues that your initial impression of a film is the only one that matters, and to revisit and reevaluate a film is a fool’s errand fraught with the potential for emotional and intellectual dishonesty. Indeed, I can think of plenty of legitimate reasons to take stock of a film anew. What if there were mitigating environmental factors — such as problems with the projector or the sound, or even with the audience itself — that hampered your ability to enjoy the film? What of format issues? I mean, what if, like me, your first experience with Lawrence of Arabia was on television, in full screen format and interrupted by commercials? Or what if you were in the wrong head space after a fight with your partner or a bad day at work and weren’t able to give the film the attention and scrutiny it deserved?

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Witold Rybzcsinski on the decline of architecture magazines:

A reduction in intellectual content in the glossies was largely the result of an increased reliance on photography, especially color photography. There’s something about a color photograph that glamorizes its subject, and architectural writers soon adopted the slightly breathless tones of fashion reporters. You are more likely to find tough architectural criticism in the New York Review of Books, the New Republic, and The New Yorker than in any of the major architecture magazines.

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Victor Davis Hanson sings “I left my appendix in Tripoli”:

Libyans seem to talk nonstop. It’s as if they have been jolted from a long sleep and are belatedly discovering, thanks to their newfound Internet, satellite television, and cell phones — many carry two to ensure that they are never out of service from competing companies — that there is indeed a wide world outside of dreary Tripoli and beyond the monotonous harangues of government socialists on the state-owned TV and radio stations.

They talked about their new gadgetry, and much else, with infectious optimism. As one hopeful Libyan travel entrepreneur with friends in the government explained, there might be some irony after all to Libya’s long, self-imposed insularity. Yes, he conceded, foreign investment declined. Oilmen left. Petroleum production nose-dived from more than 3 million barrels to never more than 2 million. But there was a silver lining: Did all that not have the effect of saving Libya’s precious resource to await the return of the present sky-high prices? Yes, Libya had banked a sort of strategic oil reserve that now was to be tapped at its most opportune moment. Yes, it was Libya’s grand strategy to deny Westerners its petroleum treasure for years, until they finally came around to pay what it was really worth

* * *

At Slate, Daniel Gross discusses the trend of foreign companies to buy U.S. brands that are on the wane:

[T]o these foreign owners, the U.S. market represents the holy grail. American consumer-oriented firms that have saturated the U.S. market, such as Coca-Cola, McDonald’s, and Nike, look to developing markets for their growth. But these foreign buyers see a different kind of opportunity here — an unmatched combination of wealth and growth that doesn’t exist in Germany, or China, or Denmark. The U.S. domestic market, 300 million people strong, is composed of wealthy consumers who routinely spend more than they make.
But iconic American brands only tend to come up for sale when they’re damaged.

It’s funny to me is that, for more than a century, China has been the holy grail for U.S. & European companies, along the lines of, “If we just get [x]% of them to go for our brand, we’ll be rolling in dough!”

* * *

Dare to dream and all that, but I still don’t believe Rem Koolhaas’ Chinese Television Authority building is going to stand up.

Money gets Flushed Away

I was reading the Wall Street Journal this morning and saw a piece on how DreamWorks Animation will be writing down its costs on Flushed Away in the 4Q because of its poor box office. ($ only, so no link for you)

The film, which chronicles the adventures of a pampered rat who is flushed into a world of tough sewer rats, cost DreamWorks $142.9 million and has so far taken in $40 million at the box office, the company said.

It doesn’t make any mention of the marketing costs (independent of production costs), but a good deal of that tends to get offset by co-promotion with fast food & toys.

So . . . $143 MILLION?

For a computer-animated film by the Wallace & Gromit people? WTF did they spend all the money on? Gold throat lozenges for Hugh Jackman & Kate Winslet?

(I need a ruling here: both Bill Nighy and Jean Reno are in this one, but since it’s only voice-work, does that mean it’ll still automatically be a good movie?)