Helveticat!

Happy April Fool's Day!

Now for something silly and adorable, and in the vein of my previous post about typography...

HELVETICAT!

http://www.swiss-miss.com/2013/04/helveticat.html

It's possibly the cutest typeface I've ever encountered. (I mean, cats!) It doesn't appear to be available for download, unfortunately. (I would be willing to pay for that. I would! My friends would get annoyed with me pretty quickly, but it would be worth it for the sheer joy of sending entire e-mails full of cat cartoons.)

Recovering the Doves Type

If you're a bibliophile like I am, you might have noticed that the endpapers of hardcover editions usually include a note about the typefaces used in the book. (For a more general layman's overview of the history of typography, I recommend the book Just My Type by Simon Garfield.) While the origin stories of typefaces might seem a relatively dry topic, they sometimes make for fascinating tales of adventure and intrigue. To wit, that of the Doves Type, one of the most influential typefaces of the past couple of centuries:

http://creativereview.co.uk/cr-blog/2015/february/recovering-the-doves-type

The improbable saga of their recovery seems like something straight out of a Sherlock Holmes novel! (If compelled to choose one, I'd compare it to The Sign of the Four.)  But it's the ending that strikes me; after such a journey, the "treasure hunter" and type designer Robert Green notes that he'll never sell the portion of the typeface that he kept for himself, saying, "It’s too precious. I feel very attached to it now I’ve retraced Cobden-Sanderson’s steps and stood on that very same spot of the bridge." I can sympathize with a sentimental attachment to a piece of history that becomes an obsession! It's fundamentally human to assign value to artifacts of culture, even those that seem a small and incidental portion of a more significant work.

A Day in the Life of a Squirrel: a Photoshoot

Another interesting piece on animals! This time, it's squirrels:

http://www.incrediblethings.com/pets/a-day-in-the-life-of-a-squirrel/

I'm amazed that the photographer managed to get the squirrels into human-like positions, especially since none of the squirrels appear to be specially trained. It's all a matter of clever set and nut placement, apparently! I never would have guessed that squirrels' faces, with their limited range of motion, could be so oddly expressive.

I'm reminded of the Redwall series, which I read religiously as a kid. (I still own every book in that series.) There were essentially two or three plotlines in the entire series, rehashed over and over with different lovable woodland critters, different riddles, and slight changes in scenery -- but as a child, I didn't really notice, and I devoured them all the same. The photo series calls to mind the cover art on those books, which all featured rodents and other small mammals in human-like poses, wearing clothes and brandishing weapons. One wonders if the art department ever considered using photographed rather than illustrated covers -- would they have looked too silly?

The New Yorker: Russia's Museum Cats

These curators of St. Petersburg's Hermitage Museum have the right idea. Perhaps this is the wishful thinking of a person without a pet, but I would love to work in an office full of cats...

http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/russias-museum-cats

Much as dogs were humanity's first security system, cats were our original pest control. In an environment full of delicate artwork, where thousands of visitors circulate every day (including, I'm sure, many children), it makes sense that instead of rat poison and traps, the museum staff are resorting to this age-old solution to rodent problems. And, of course, they're providing a loving and safe home to a veritable squadron of cats, many of whom previously lived in less-than-healthful circumstances in the museum's heating system.

The article doesn't mention that these cats (their predecessors, really) were first brought to the museum, which was then a palace, by decree of the Russian empress Elizabeth. They were specially imported from Kazan, a city whose cats were reputed to be the best mousers in Russia. These cats lived in the palace for many years, until the feline population was virtually decimated during World War II. About twenty years ago, a program was begun to care for the animals, and in recent years, in addition to maintaining its existing cats, the museum has even begun to adopt cats in need of a home.

The museum director is noted to have said that "they are the spirit of the place. The museum’s genius loci.” It's a curious but apt comparison; genii loci were ancient Roman guardians of specific locations (usually homes), whose goodwill was usually secured through piety and sacrificial offerings. These cats seem to have become such a part of the fabric of the museum that without them, the Hermitage Museum would be a different, less feeling place. But as long as they continue to be loved by staff and visitors as they are, the cats appear quite content to stay in their unusual abode.

Ski Trip!

I went on a ski trip this weekend with some of my oldest friends...

I'm on the far right in the blue helmet.

It was a blast. Nothing like spending quality time with people you love. And, of course, hurtling down a frozen mountain with strips of plastic strapped to your feet.

BBC: Death... Not Quite Permanent?

I've been pondering life and death again (you know, as you do). We humans tend to think of the two as definite, opposing states of being. The vast majority of the time, we have no problem identifying someone as "alive" or "dead." But, as science fiction has predicted, we've arrived at an age when these concepts are no longer quite binary -- when it's possible to restore to life someone who's been, albeit briefly, declared dead. See this article from last year:

http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20140704-i-bring-the-dead-back-to-life

Cryonics and cryogenics has been a well-trodden trope in popular fiction for decades, from the works of Robert Heinlein and Arthur C. Clarke (of the "Golden Age of Science Fiction") to Captain America's decades of being frozen in a block of ice. Science is nowhere near such capabilities, of course, and it's important for the general public to understand what is and is not possible, to be able to distinguish between fact and fiction (and fiction that might well become fact in the future). Most of the scientists cited in the above BBC article, for example, are careful to qualify their work. But the mere possibility -- the mere notion that we might be capable of blurring the boundary between life and death -- calls into question some of humanity's most deep-seated beliefs.

One of the most memorable moments in genomics research (which could be considered the other end of the debate) came from Dr. Craig Venter, the geneticist and entrepreneur best known for his work in mapping the human genome and in artificially synthesizing life. When he was asked how he felt about "playing God," Venter famously replied, "I don't play."

Clever quip aside, the creation of life and the reversal of death are traditionally the provinces of myth. Much of human fascination with divinity and the supernatural stems from our desire to understand -- and in some small way, influence -- these opaque, immutable bookends to our time on earth. We, like all other living creatures, are by nature afraid of death, and seek to stave it off as long as we can. If given the option to return from the other side, I'd venture that most people would do so without hesitation. And who wouldn't want to bring back a newly-deceased loved one, if they could?

What, then, might it mean to live, if we could choose not to die? Issues of reproduction and overpopulation aside (though those, too, would become important challenges), would near-immortality change the nature of humanity? How and why would one decide to die? Tolkien's elves, incidentally, would be a close approximation of that dilemma.

I'm reminded of something a wise man once said, about that final journey:

"After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

~Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Advice on Life, Creativity, and Making Meaning, from the Creator of Calvin and Hobbes

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not as well-versed in the iconic comic Calvin and Hobbes as I should be. What little I've seen of it has moved me, and I mean to read more, truly. Bill Watterson is a rare talent. And he gives some pretty inspiring advice, too, both for creatives and for everyone else:

http://www.fastcodesign.com/3027095/4-tips-on-creativity-from-the-creator-of-calvin-hobbes

The four maxims Watterson presents are by no means comprehensive, but they do form a solid foundation for a creative life. And, even though it's clear from context that he uses "creative" to mean "artistic," I believe his advice holds true for any field involving passion and productivity, which is most of them.

Essentially, it boils down to: "Do something you love (no field is too small or esoteric), stay true to your vision, and give it 110%." Sensible for anyone, but especially for creatives who face a long, risky, uphill battle with no surety of success and with little but their own belief to light their way. It's true of artists, entrepreneurs, and innovators of all stripes -- one hopes to have the cultural impact Watterson did.

And then there's this, which was illustrated by Gavin Aung Than of Zen Pencils:

http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2013/08/27/bill_watterson_s_cartoonist_s_advice_in_comic_form_by_zen_pencils_aka_gavin.html

In its narrowest reading, this graphic interpretation of Watterson's words vindicates stay-at-home parenting -- for either gender. While challenging normative views of masculinity and patriarchy is daring and important, it isn't quite innovative today. Rather, the broader readings of this comic are more interesting: in a society where status -- as defined by a widely accepted slate of value judgments -- is in part determined by income and prestige of employment, Watterson and Than assert that one can viably choose not to take part in that hierarchy (or at least, choose to ignore it). If your idea of meaning and fulfillment cannot be met within the traditional system, it's legitimate to create your own. You shouldn't let society influence or shame you into pursuing a traditional path towards conventional markers of success.

It's an almost Thoreauvian way of living -- not necessarily the most practical or accessible, but a worthy goal nonetheless.

The Difficult Transition of #BlackLivesMatter from Spontaneous Protests to Racial Justice Movement

I've lately thought about and discussed the issue of racial justice with a number of different people. One thought keeps cropping up: what happens if the current collective outrage never translates to meaningful action? What if, like Occupy Wall Street around the world, the passion of millions of protesters fizzles for lack of cohesion, and their voices become no more than a paragraph or a footnote in the annals of history?

Here's a pithy, rather spare think-piece to get us started:

http://mic.com/articles/107382/black-lives-matter-must-move-beyond-protests-or-risk-losing-the-fight-for-racial-justice

People like to compare the recent Black Lives Matter demonstrations to the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. They bear depressingly apt similarities, despite taking place fifty years apart; both protest the unequal treatment of African-Americans in this country, especially by the government or law enforcement. However, the most crucial difference between the two is: the Civil Rights Movement was carefully coordinated and led by a group of activist organizations, including the NAACP, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. A huge factor in their success was their ability to stage massive protests and rallies across the country over the course of many years, put forth specific and actionable demands, and apply sustained pressure on relevant politicians to meet these demands. This is virtually impossible for a movement without some form of centralized leadership.

The leaders of the Civil Rights Movement were far more than human embodiments of their cause. These men and women were organizers, negotiators, motivators -- and tragically, often martyrs, too. When Martin Luther King gave his famous "I Have a Dream" speech during the March on Washington, it was understood that he spoke with the collective voice of hundreds of thousands of demonstrators. Because he and his fellow leaders so clearly expressed what they were hoping to accomplish with the March, the government had no choice but to respond; indeed, King's speech and the March are historically credited with securing the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.

Black Lives Matter thus far lacks this level of specificity in terms of goals or action plans, in large part because it, like Occupy Wall Street, has no spokesperson with whom the government can negotiate. They are doing a good job of advocating for body cameras on police officers, but otherwise, have been unable to articulate or agree on a set of actionable demands, and would find it difficult to hold the government accountable for hypothetical promises to address said demands. These movements start by channelling the frustrations and desires of the people at large, but can only grow into effective organizations if they are willing to move on from 100% spontaneous, grassroots advocacy to a more centralized system. Not all members of the movement can be equal; there must be somebody vested with the authority to make decisions and speak for the group. Every democracy elects a leader -- a social movement can be no different if it is to be sustainable.

It's much like the crucial difference between rebellion and governance: rebellion is the tearing down of an unjust system, while governance is about building a just (and importantly, stable) system. Rebellion is the easy part; destruction requires much less long-term planning. Building something new -- whether a new piece of legislation or a new world order -- calls for a much more comprehensive vision, and the capability to slog through the unglamorous legislative and administrative processes of achieving it. Idealism isn't enough: it requires tenacity, compromise, and specific skills that the body of protestors are unlikely capable of collectively wield.

This is why Occupy Wall Street petered out. That particular movement had issues, from the outset, with accepting a central authority that could harness the energy of the protesters and direct it towards specific policy goals. Many protesters were too suspicious of any sort of authority, any hint of inequality of position or platform. They couldn't recognize, to the detriment of the cause, that there are many shades of nuance between spokesperson and dictator, that one would not inevitably morph into the other by some Delphic slippery slope fallacy. Elevating a few key protesters to a position of power might have seemed inegalitarian at the time, but would have helped transform a movement based on outrage and sheer emotion into an organization, which would ultimately have achieved a greater and more lasting impact.

This is a lesson I dearly hope that the Black Lives Matter movement learns. Idealism can topple world orders, but pragmatism and dirty hands can build one anew.

Jewliebots: Teaching Girls to Code, and Subverting Gender Norms, via Jewelry

There's been growing interest, in certain quarters, in addressing the dearth of women in technology. Since one of the important roots of the issue lies in the lack of girls pursuing STEM fields as students, improving STEM education and outreach in the early years is critical. To that end, two female entrepreneurs have developed an educational toy, Jewliebots, that taps into traditionally feminine interests, such as fashion accessories and overt peer bonding, in order to pique preteen girls' interest in computer science.

http://www.dailydot.com/technology/jewliebots-friendship-bracelets/

http://www.bustle.com/articles/52546-jewliebots-friendship-bracelets-teach-girls-to-code-would-make-christmas-shopping-much-easier

Much like GoldieBlox, a comparable product engaging girls in engineering-related play (most well-known for the company's successful advertisement during the broadcast of a major sporting event), Jewliebots incorporates coding components into toys that are otherwise quite feminine (pink!) in appearance and function. It integrates engineering concepts into otherwise normal-looking toys, making this type of learning a natural element of play for young girls. I find this encouraging (and practical) on the one hand, but also problematic, on the other.

On face, the rationale for this seems obvious: bridge the gap between boys' toys that cultivate interest in engineering and girls' toys that don't, by creating toys that look like girls' toys, but encourage the same sorts of skills that the boys' toys do. However, this approach carries an unfortunate side-effect of catering to and reinforcing gender norms (i.e. pink toys for girls, blue toys for boys). It all-too-easily leads to the segregation of male and female constructive play, the idea that girls' toys ought to be distinguished by clear visual markers and are somehow inferior to boys' toys. (You'd be hard-pressed to get a boy to pick up a pink toy, for fear of schoolyard ridicule, whereas it's much easier for a girl to be a tomboy and play with masculine-looking toys; the latter is sometimes seen as an upgrade in social status, whereas the former is almost universally perceived as emasculating.) This reinforces the problematic social norm of masculinity as superior to femininity, establishing early in children's lives a secondary class of "female engineers" separate from the extant pool of predominantly male engineers. By creating engineering-related toys that cater specifically to girls, Jewliebots engenders in young and impressionable minds the idea that girls who code are somehow "other" and different from boys who code. This is the sort of thinking that very likely leads to gender discrimination and pay discrepancies in the engineering field.

It's important to note, however, the power of incremental change. There is still great social pressure (from peers and from authority figures) for girls to conform to a certain outmoded understanding of femininity. In the same way that girls are told not to dirty their dresses climbing on the jungle gym and catching insects in the park, girls often subconsciously internalize the idea that engineering-related play is "unladylike," or worse, "not for you." As girls are conditioned to be more vulnerable to social pressures, the perception of doing something wrong or unacceptable discourages them from pursuing science and engineering. If, by subversively making engineering-related toys conform to certain acknowledged stereotypes about childhood femininity, we can make it more socially acceptable for girls to play with said toys, it's a step in the right direction. At least, it gets them thinking about possibilities they may never have entertained otherwise.

So, if you're doing your last-minute holiday shopping, and there's a young girl on your list, consider buying her an engineering-related toy, like Jewliebots or Goldieblox. (And of course, be mindful and supportive about teaching gender roles and social norms the other 364 days of the year.) You may very well change her life.

Melville House to Publish the Senate Intelligence Committee Report on Torture

This just happened. Melville House has outdone itself:

http://www.mhpbooks.com/press-release-melville-house-announces-publication-of-the-senate-intelligence-committee-report-on-torture/

The "Senate Torture Report," as the document is commonly known, is the product of a years-long investigation into the shocking and inhumane treatment of prisoners at the hands of the C.I.A., and the agency's vast attempts to hide its actions from both the rest of the government and the citizenry at large. It's a tremendously important work that shines a bright light on the evil that certain members of our public institutions insist, wrongly, is the price of preserving peace in our country.

Melville House, in the best tradition of letters in this democratic experiment we call the United States, is rushing to turn a heavily redacted, low-resolution, practically illegible set of images into a coherent and usable book by the end of the year. (Yes, that's in just a few weeks.) I can only imagine how chaotic and caffeinated their offices must be these days. But this is an important task. Without dissemination of information, democracy as we know it is meaningless. Only an informed public can truly self-govern in the way our forbearers intended.

Hats off to you, Melville House. What a way to close out the year.