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.

The New Yorker: Why Abraham Lincoln Loved Infographics

A (too) short, intriguing piece on the early history of infographics and data mapping:

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/elements/2013/10/why-abraham-lincoln-loved-infographics.html

As a consequence of the way our brains perceive our surroundings, we humans are visual creatures with a knack for finding patterns (sometimes even where they don't exist, hence conspiracy theories!). It's easy to see why infographics would appeal to those of us trying to make sense of large amounts of information, like leaders considering their constituencies and commanders looking over battlefields. I'd wager that infographics first came about in the late 1700s not because of any lack of interest in the format, but rather because it was significantly more difficult to gather the data necessary to populate them! Once there were more reliable and timely reports of populations, troop movements, &c., it seems inevitable that somebody would have had the notion to display the information in a visually succinct fashion.

The Civil War, by virtue of its chronological place in history, was the first major American engagement after the advent of proper infographics; it stands to reason that Lincoln would have been delighted with this useful new instrument at his disposal. It's also worthwhile to note that the Union Army would have been leaps and bounds ahead of the Confederates in its ability to gather the type of data best suited to infographics. Not only did the North have access to decades of records, it also had by far more extensive postal and transportation systems. Lincoln's maps and charts would have been significantly more comprehensive than what Jefferson Davis had.

Lincoln's extremely detailed slave population map

These days, we have precisely the opposite problem. Information is much easier to come by -- so much so that we're constantly inundated by facts and figures in the news. Infographics have become, rather than a tool for aggregation, a tool for selection and analysis. (This is, of course, aided by technologies unfathomable in Lincoln's time.) We like charts and graphs because they speak to that ancient part of our brains that latches onto patterns, turning the night sky into constellations and the landscape into mythology. They shape a flood of information into a cohesive narrative -- and narrative is essential to how humans define who we are and how we fit into this universe.

As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.

The People's Climate March, a Recap

Over the weekend, I went to the People's Climate March. I went alone, one of more than 300,000 people who attended the New York City event (similar marches were staged in cities around the world), and was warmly welcomed by perfect strangers, from climate scientists to concerned parents pushing baby strollers. There was universally an acknowledgement of solidarity, of common and overarching cause. There was a determination that the United Nations should hear us, on the weekend of the Climate Summit.

The March spanned more than fifty blocks on Manhattan's West Side, from 86th Street down to 34th Street. I joined about halfway through, having rushed across the river from the Brooklyn Book Festival, which was unfortunately on the same day. I tried to document what I could; my batteries gave out partway through...

I took this photo from just outside the barricade; it gives a good sense of the density of marchers along the route.

Marchers flocked to New York from colleges and universities throughout the Northeast, bringing handmade signs, slick printed banners, and matching t-shirts. (You know it's a real campus group when it has special t-shirts!)

There were also members of a diverse array of disproportionately-impacted communities, from indigenous populations to farmers to anyone who happened to live in a low-lying coastal region, included most Hurricane Sandy victims in the tri-state area (an unsurprisingly well-represented group).

Activists of all ages carried signs and slogans, and looked pretty happy to be here. It wasn't just young, idealistic college students!

These marchers, though, look like young, idealistic college students... The "fill-in-the-blank" signs were handed out to marchers at the beginning of the day. There was a wonderful diversity of answers, from the indisputably factual to the unflinchingly personal.

There were some interesting pieces of green technology along for the ride. I was especially taken with this tiny solar-powered vehicle, which reminded me of a cross between a VW Beetle and a golf cart. (It was moving at slow enough speeds that children could clamber on.)

I fell in with a group of scientists, some of whom had come all the way from the U.K. to participate in the march. They had an incredible prop: an enormous rolling blackboard covered in real data. The evidence was clear, from more than ten feet away!

And of course, the scientists came prepared with clever exoplanet jokes.

This photo was taken towards the end of the march, as the afternoon was just giving way to early evening. As the lighting is lacking, the signs read "Tuvalu," "Save the Arctic," and "Stop the tar sands at the source." This was indeed the delegation representing the tiny Pacific archipelago of Tuvalu, which is in danger of being submerged by rising sea levels. Some of them probably came a very long way to be heard in front of the United Nations.

As for the media round-up, my favorite pieces about the March:

• The New Yorker ran an excellent article about the event, as well as a interview with the environmentalist and scholar Bill McKibben, one of the primary organizers of the March.
• The New York Times also covered the March, including audiovisual material that gives a great sense of the numbers and diversity of the marchers. A follow-up article provided deeper analysis of the economics behind climate change mitigation.

The U.N. appears to have gotten the message -- but it remains to be seen in the months and years ahead how seriously its member states take their new vows on climate action. It will require intricate policy and sustained initiative to see them through the vagaries of politics, of course. But no country can claim that its citizens do not care or will not be affected by climate change.

R.I.P. Rizzoli Bookstore

As the bibliophiles and New Yorkers among my readers might have heard, the city's iconic Rizzoli Bookstore is being evicted from its iconic Midtown premises, to be replaced by a luxury high-rise. Despite petitions and protests, this historic location was denied landmark status on a pure technicality; the bookstore is housed in what used to be a piano showroom, with vaulted ceilings and massive cast-iron chandeliers that make visitors feel as though they've stepped into the pages of history. (Appropriately, Rizzoli is known for its stock of art books.) Today was the store's last day in business, and it feels a bit like the end of an era.

There's been an outpouring of grief and outrage on the internet, unsurprisingly. One of the most moving  and articulate pieces about Rizzoli is this rather personal New Yorker article by Jon Michaud:

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2014/01/rizzoli-and-selling-books-to-madonna

It recalls an almost Gatsby-esque old New York, doesn't it? (And of course, the pictures are stunning.) I love the idea -- and it's more than a mere idea -- of a bookstore as the sort of village that raises exemplary young adults. It seems to be a recurring theme both in literature (Christopher Morley and, more recently, Robin Sloan come to mind) and in real life, and it saddens me to think that such an education might no longer be available to coming generations.

I will have more thoughts on this later, I'm sure. For now, though, allow me to wallow.

The New Yorker: Einstein Tries to Park His Car in New York

A clever Einstein joke:

http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/10/11/cartoons_20101004#slide=4

I'm a fan of science humour (xkcd, anyone?). Also, I read a lot of Freeman J. Dyson in middle school. (Me, a nerd?)

The New Yorker: Namesake

http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/10/04/cartoons_20100927#slide=9

I am amused.

The New Yorker: Excuses, Excuses

Technology in the classroom:


http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/05/03/cartoons_20100426#slide=15

I think he gets points for creativity.

The New Yorker: What Atlas Should Have Done

I've actually always wondered about this:


http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/04/05/cartoons_20100329#slide=8

*Plothole Alert!* (I jest.)

The New Yorker: God, on Evolution -- Oops!

A humorous take on creationism:


http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/03/15/cartoons_20100308#slide=4

I'm not sure whether to laugh or to cry when I hear about the latest theories propagated by young-earth creationists. If I believed in God, our interaction might go something like this.

Bug report, indeed.

The New Yorker: Ideas at the Most Inconvenient Times

http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/05/17/cartoons_20100510#slide=17

I get a lot of my best ideas in the shower (It's not that strange, is it?), and scramble for paper when I get back to my room, and end up forgetting the idea anyway, more often than not. That's the thing with ideas; they're slippery and elusive. I should get waterproof paper or something.

The New Yorker: A Package for Priam

http://www.newyorker.com/humor/issuecartoons/2010/04/26/cartoons_20100419#slide=14

What can I say -- I'm a fan of historical humor (both humor about history, and humor from history). I confess I laughed when reading Herodotus last year.

The New Yorker: A Tiny Feast

http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2009/04/20/090420fi_fiction_adrian

It's a really excellent short story. I love A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Chris Adrian captures the Fey Folk perfectly. And the Beastie is just a wonderful touch.