Author: admin

This morning one of the clues in the NY Times crossword puzzle was “It occurs twice in chalk talk”. The answer was “Silent L”. I was really excited because Chalktalk is the name of my research software. So this morning I rallied my silent L’s and wrote a little poem in honor of the occasion:

I solved the puzzle in a walk
I knew, I think, I surely would
Not for a moment did I balk
Because I knew I really could
I did not suffer sweaty palms
And didn’t need to sprain a calf
In fact, I really had no qualms
And beat my fastest time by half
Yet all the while I stayed so calm
When all was done I ate an almond
Then sat right down and wrote this psalm
But stayed away from eggs with salmon *
 * Alas, I fear that many folk
   Will never really get the yolk

Sometimes I marvel, when it comes time to post my daily blog, how much time has passed since the previous day’s post. I know that sounds strange. After all, wasn’t it just a day — no more, no less?

Well yes, in a strictly chronological sense. But here is where things get interesting. Sometimes it seems as though only minutes have passed since the previous day’s post. And that’s how I know it hasn’t been a very interesting day.

Other days, it feels as though a week or more has passed since I last posted — even though it was just the day before. And that means it’s been a very full day.

I don’t think that “full day” equates to how much I’ve gotten done, or even how much has happened. I think it’s more a matter of how many social context switches I’ve experienced on that day.

So if I’ve met with very different sorts of people, and taken on different social and professional roles, then a day can seem like a week. These are the most exhausting days.

I realize now, having just gone through one, that they are also the best days.

A few weeks ago there was an editorial in the New York Times by David Malpass, a senior economic advisor for the Trump presidential campaign. He laid out a series of reasons, based on right-wing economic theory, why a Trump presidency would be better for the economy than a Clinton presidency.

We can all agree to disagree about economic theory, but there are some things we cannot agree to disagree about. And one of those was Mr. Malpass’s closing thought, which I repeat verbatim:

One candidate has spent her lifetime seeking the presidency. Mr. Trump hasn’t.

Think about this for a moment. What is he actually saying? Speaking as an American, I know that I grew up with some fundamental truths. One of those is that, if you are kid, wanting to grow up to one day become President of the United States is applauded.

Wanting to serve your country in this way is the American Dream condensed to its fundamental essence. So much so that to tell a child that they could never aspire to such a position is, arguably, abusive.

So what, exactly, is wrong with Hillary Clinton “spending her lifetime seeking the presidency?” Let’s do a though experiment. Suppose Mr. Malpass had been talking about a man.

How does this sound: “Mr. Bush has spent his lifetime seeking the presidency.” Or try this one: “Mr. Lincoln has spent his lifetime seeking the presidency.” The only rational response would be “Well, good for him.”

The only difference is between the words “her” and “his”. Apparently, it’s ok, in fact laudible, for a male to aspire to the presidency. But if a woman wants exactly the same thing, she clearly does not know her place.

If you were black, and a candidate’s campaign said that a black candidate was being “uppity” for daring to run for president, you probably wouldn’t vote for that candidate. If you were Jewish, and a candidate’s campaign said that there was no place for a Jew in the White House, you probably wouldn’t vote for that candidate.

So I wonder, all politics aside, what woman in her right mind would vote for a candidate whose campaign is built, in such an obvious way, around mysogyny?

I woke today and thought about the date
And wondered at how much has changed since then
Yet even now our world is filled with hate
And politics brings out the worst of men.
How long a stretch of time time is fifteen years?
One would have thought enough for us to learn
That giving in to hatreds and to fears,
Is not a way to build, but just to burn.
I only hope that all of us today
Will truly honor those whose lives were lost
By turning messengers of fear away
For hate is never worth its awful cost.
      Our better angels call us from above
      When human hearts can find a way to love.

I spent much of the day today with my mom. The wonderful thing about moms (at least mine), is that you can talk with them about things you are wrestling with that you would rather not discuss with anyone else.

As it happens, my mom is a particularly level headed person, so I always have a better handle on how to deal with problems after talking things through with her. And today has been no exception.

It’s not that the problems actually go away, of course. It’s more that they become easier to understand. In particular, after talking with my mom today I have a much better handle on that always tricky question: “How much of this problem was caused by me, and how much of it was caused by somebody else?”

It turns out that in this case, it’s pretty much the latter. Which from my perpective is always good news. In any case, I feel unburdened.

I was talking today with some colleagues about our research, which is not exactly virtual reality, and not exactly augmented reality. We are sort of doing VR for AR: We use various virtual reality techniques to prototype a kind of extreme future augmented reality.

The question came up as to what terminology we should use to describe what we are doing. Neither “virtual reality” nor “augmented reality” really describe it. So perhaps a new term is needed.

I had an inspiration. I told my colleagues that we need something radically new and forward looking, more futuristic and cutting edge than mere virtual reality. “What we need is a brand new acronym,” I explained. “Something that would be completely exotic to young people. So let’s call it Virtual Co-present Reality … VCR!”

I am in an email discussion group that talks about good ways to help kids learn. Today one of the emails was from Ted Kaehler, describing his old friend Julia Nishijima, who taught at the Open School in LA in the 1980s and 90s.

This is just so beautiful that I need to share it:

Julia had a first grade class and taught math. She had a very pleasant voice, and quietly evoked some surprising things from her kids. I was there when she asked, “How many ways can you make eleven?” The kids were sitting in a circle on the floor in front of a blackboard.

Someone suggested 10+1. They went through all of the 9+2, etc. with many children contributing. She went around the circle.

Someone suggested 11+0.

There was a silence. Julia asked how many ways there were to make eleven. Only half the kids were willing to agree that there were just 11 ways.

Someone suggested 12 + -1. Julia drew a number line on the board. This caused a stir. After some clarification, there came an avalance of negative plus positive. Everyone agreed that there must be a lot of them!

Again a silence.

Someone suggested 9 + 1 + 1. Again, the kids assaulted Julia with new combinations. They got tired after a while.

Are there any other ways? Silence.

Someone suggested 10 and a half plus a half. There was a debate as to whether this was fair. It was, and many suggestions followed. The bell rang with kids still begging to tell their new way to make 11.

It’s hard to believe
There’s just a moment between
The past and future

I had a far ranging discussion today with some students about the future possibilities of virtual reality. The discussion went to some surprising places.

One of the tropes of VR is that everything has the possibility to seem incredibly real, because of the sense complete immersion. But one of the more interesting topics in our conversation this evening centered around just the opposite.

When you go to see a movie, or a play, you are not expecting to see a literal transcription of life. In fact, if a filmmaker or dramaturge were to attempt to show you such a think, you’d probably be very bored indeed.

Rather, each medium, as it has matured, has developed its own particular set of stylizations, uniquely suited to that medium. In any developing medium, it takes a while to work out what kinds of innovations really work, and which do not (talkies: good; color: not bad; smellovision: meh).

All of which is to say that when VR finally becomes a mature storytelling medium, I suspect that its successful innovations won’t be those that mimic literal reality. They will be those that deviate from that reality in interesting and powerful ways.

This morning, in Dublin, I was conversing with a woman over breakfast. She had the loveliest Irish accent, and she posed me a provocative challenge, which she had apparently heard on a radio show. It seems that your answer to this challenge reveals a lot about what is currently going on in your life. Here is what she said:

“If you were walking along a road in a forest, and you were to come upon a bear, answer the following two questions: (1) Describe the bear, and (2) When you find yourself faced with the bear, what do you do?”

My immediate response was “I don’t know. What’s the answer?”

She would have none of this. “Oh no, you can’t get out of it that easily. You need to answer the questions.” I was so entranced by her lilting Irish accent that I accepted the challenge.

I thought about it for a bit, and then I gave my response.

“In answer to the first question,” I said, “it’s a teddy bear. In answer to the second question, I would pick it up and give it as a gift to a child.”

I was worried that she would think that I had somehow cheated. On the contrary, she was completely delighted by my reply. “It’s clear,” she said, “that you are leading an untroubled life.”

I was very happy to hear that.