Friday, November 13, 2009

Hey Hey!

I'm heading up to Taranaki, and will be running on a pretty full schedule. Not sure how long exactly I'll be up there, either. So: blogging will be light for a day or two, and I probably won't have time to compile Assorted Links, which, in spite of normally being one sentence and three links long, is by far the most time-consuming part of my blogging.

Tomorrow, I will be posting a response of some sort to this. I'd do it now, but I don't really know what my position is on it yet.

Other than that, have a great weekend. Stay off the roads in Taranaki: I might be driving.

BK Answers His Own Questions!

My answers to the other day's quickfire questions.

  1. What's the best movie you've seen this year?...

    District 9. Surprisingly interesting, and with a kick-ass mech.

  2. ...and what's the worst?...

    Tough competition, but I'm gonna go for Vera Drake.

  3. ...and why did it suck?

    Plodding, preachy, predictable, and boring. It's the Phil Goff of movies.

  4. What's the best book you've read this year?

    I think the book I enjoyed most this year was American Gods, by Neil Gaiman.

  5. Which MPs should be locked in a room together?...

    Phil Goff and Hone Harawira.

  6. ...and which bloggers?

    WhaleOil and Idiot/Savant.

  7. What's the most embarrassing book on your shelf?...

    Twilight.

  8. ...and why haven't you hidden it?

    It's not mine.

  9. What kind of coffee do you drink?...

    Long black. I prefer L'Affare to most other blends; People's Coffee and Havana are both acceptable, in spite of unfortunately sanctimonious-commie associations.

  10. ...and what's your favourite cocktail?

    It's been over a year since I had a drink, so I'm working off memory here. The mint julep.

  11. Who's your favourite philosopher?

    Plato. Not always right, but dangerous to disagree with.

  12. ...scientist?

    Angelo Secchi SJ. A useful counterexample.

  13. ...economist?

    Hayek.

  14. What book or movie would you rewrite, just to kill off in some gruesome way a particularly irritating character?

    Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, to kill off Raoul Duke.

  15. What endangered species would you most like to eradicate?

    The variola virus.

  16. Do you believe in multiple universes?

    Putting aside the smart-ass observation that all my believing is done in this universe, I still come down on "no". The physical evidence for universes spatio-temporally disconnected from us is almost by definition non-existent, and that's way too convenient for me to trust. The theoretical evidence is scant, unconvincing, and inelegant. And in terms of philosophy, well, I rejected modal realism years ago, when I used to think about this stuff way too much.

  17. Who will be Prime Minister in 2020?...

    Shane Jones. The dark-horse candidate favoured by goonix, "BKD", is on record as saying: "running for electoral office? I'd rather be violated by a goat that had been violated by bin Laden."

  18. ...and would you like to bet on that?

    Hells no.

Steak House Or Gay Bar?

Via Brad Taylor's shared items, I discover a website of genius: Steak House or Gay Bar?

It brings up an establishment's name, and you've got to guess if it's... a steak house or a gay bar.

Much more difficult than you might initially suppose. Have a try, and see if you can do better than about 70%, which was the best I could manage.

The Harawira Fracas

It seems pretty obvious to me that the only calm, level-headed writing about the Hone Harawira fracas is coming from Rocky at The Standard.

Since people keep asking me what I think, and I keep saying "I don't want to talk about it; read my blog", I think it's only fair that I actually blog my thoughts.

This whole thing has been blown way, way out of proportion.

Harawira deserves criticism for taking a day off from his duties to go to Paris. This is a misdemeanour, and not a hanging offence. Donning sack-cloth and ashes for a round of public self-flagellation is the usual penance; people then move on.

Instead, of this, Harawira retrenched. His "I answer only to my electorate" shtick shouldn't fly. When the good people of Te Tai Tokerau elected him, he became a member of New Zealand's Parliament; all New Zealanders, agreeing to be bound by the election, accept him as one of their representatives. This applies double when he's overseas. (By the way, who on Earth chose him to chair a junket that would involve diplomacy?) So I criticize him for the retrenchment, too.

But I simply cannot get upset about the not-terribly heated exchange of e-mails between Harawira and Buddy Mikaere. Mikaere set the tone, Harawira took the bait. (And I?, well, I mixed a metaphor).

If the forceful articulation of the historically correct claim that colonists—overwhelmingly white—stole a lot of Maori land by means uncool is the worst thing to happen in New Zealand race-relations this year (as complaint levels to some quango suggest) then I suggest we've got it pretty sweet.

I've not said more than "hello" to the man, so I couldn't possibly comment if Harawira feels animus to anyone because of their ethnicity; what I can say is that his e-mail wasn't racist.

But, the colonists' felonies don't—as claimed in the e-mail—excuse Harawira's misdemeanour, and it's not "puritanical bullshit" to criticize him for skiving off to Paris.

Anyway, people took opportunistic offence at Harawira's vocabulary, and he apologized. Under political pressure from Phil Goff—who thought Harawira should be booted from Parliament, a position that I call populist bullshit—, Harawira lashed out at Goff, stating quite reasonably that if an intemperate e-mail is an expulsion offence because of the damage it does to race relations, then the Foreshore and Seabed is a shooting offence, because it did much more damage.

Goff feigned offence again, and now, we're at an impasse.

Harawira should crappy political judgement throughout, Goff further cemented his reputation as a populist douchebag without the popularity, and the usual people are squealing.

We've seen two things here. We've seen a politician figure out that he can have a news cycle all to himself by not shutting up. We've seen a political establishment unsure of how to react.

What's the correct play here? Make Harawira refund the cost of junket; then move on. People sometimes say things they shouldn't. People sometimes catch Opportunistic Offence Disease. I'm optimistic enough about race relations in New Zealand to think that we're tough enough not to wilt whenever that happens.

UPDATE: Jake Quinn reasons through the politics. I've gotta say I concur. I really don't think anyone benefits if Harawira goes independent.

Assorted Links From My Internet Travels

Y2K revisionism; Pluto revisionism; Peloponnesian War revisionism.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

New Blog!

Kiwi Poll Guy steps into a valuable niche in the world of kiwi blogging: he's gonna be our FiveThirtyEight or Pollster, a statistician looking at the public polls.

This is awesome, because it saves me the effort of learning statistics, which I was nearly tempted to do in order to fill this very niche. Of course, I anticipate that the blog will only really heat up as we get close to the next General Election, but it'll be obligatory reading for datanauts starting from now.

With a tip 'o the hat to Matt Burgess, him of iPredict, who tweeted this.

Now, let the speculation as to Kiwi Poll Guy's identity commence!

UPDATE: So, yeah, it's a bit rude to announce the commencement of speculations without offering one myself. [UPDATE: I think I've cracked it. I've deleted the answer, so that you, too, may have fun speculating. [DOUBLE-NESTED UPDATE: Well, that was a fail. I think I've got a clearer picture now.]]

10/10 In 29s

And so I did break the 30s barrier for my first time, and my rivals and foes, they did bow down before me and acknowledge me king, for I am great.

Take the quiz here.

They're Gaining On Us! We Have To Jettison Something!

The title of this post reflects something of an ambition of mine. One day, I want to be in a position where I have to say those words.

Of course, I'd like it if it were something cool and expensive that I'd have to ditch: something like a cannon, a racehorse, or even a bunch of gold bars.

Failing that, there's always that good old kiwi stand-by: cheese. That's what a couple of suspected train robbers did yesterday.

Now, if it were me, and I were planning a train robbery, I think I'd prefer to be stealing something more memorable than dairy products. Don't get me wrong: I love dairy products. But nobody's ever going to turn The Great Cheese Heist into a movie.

One wonders what the pair needed so much cheese for, anyway. They were caught in "possession of a class A and B drug and possession of drug utensils". I'm aware of the culinary principle that melted cheese makes everything taste better—if only by comparison—, but this still leaves the puzzle of the quantity: what drug tastes so bad you need 160 kilograms of edam to make it palatable? It must be Z. Or maybe cheese is a Z-precursor.

Anti-Drug Hysteria Defies Logic, Parody

I'd just like to congratulate the police in Nelson and The Nelson Mail for attaining news heights of uninformative panic-spreading: New drug 'Z' has police worried.

In the article, we learn of a new spectre stalking the streets of Nelson at night. It causes paranoia, irrationality, hallucination, and delusion. That's quite a laundry list. Whether this new menace causes these things in drug users or journalists is yet to be determined.

For the fact of the matter is this: police, the Drug Foundation, and the Nelson needle exchange haven't yet bothered to identify the substance. Given that this is as difficult as (1) finding a sample and (2) sending it to a rudimentarily-equipped lab, I'm beginning to suspect that this drug doesn't exist.

Current theories: it contains caffeine (shock horror!) and trifluoromethylphenylpiperazine (a cousin of benzylpiperazine, banned at the same time); it's just a brand name attached to 3,4-Methylenedioxymethamphetamine—MDMA, or, to use the gangs' trading name, Ecstasy—; it's Ritalin. In other words, nobody has any fucking idea, and the police and the press are working each other up into a lather over nothing.

The side-effect profile doesn't read like MDMA to me, although that would otherwise have been my first guess: it's usually sold as pills with a logo, which could easily be a simple Z. (It could be a bad batch: these things happen in a Prohibition environment.)

Now, if I may offer a prediction: by 2020, police will have worried in the newspapers about some drug for every letter of the alphabet. After that, they will move onto the Greek and Cyrillic alphabets.

Oh, The Things I Learn...

...from autocomplete.

Feeling that I need to brush up on world politics, and not wishing actually to complete a Google search, I decided to restrict my education to what AutoComplete could teach me.

Here are some results.

Barack Obama is, apparently, a lying, racist, communist socialist, a Muslim, not a US citizen, idiot antichrist, and also my new bicycle.

George Bush, in addition to being an alien monkey-lizard moron-antichrist, is both a great president, and the worst ever. He is also a racist.

Kim Jong-il and Fidel Castro are both dead, but in a neat trick, Castro is also a living hero. Hugo Chavez, pulls off a similarly neat trick: he both is, and is not, a dictator.



Angela Merkel is, well:

Gordon Brown is a prick, an idiot, a shit, a liar, a moron, a bastard, mad and useless. He is also my shepherd, which means that whoever translated my Bible fucked up somewhere along the line while working on Psalm 23.

Kevin Rudd is a serial killer. This makes some sense, in that there is precedent for serial killers trying their hand at politics. Ted Bundy was a Republican; John Wayne Gacy a Democrat.

According to the internet, there's a hot guy watching me right now:

What about John Key? What is the thing that internet users worldwide are most anxious to learn about our Prime Minister?

CONCLUSION: Let this chasten anyone who speaks of the wisdom of crowds.

Assorted Links From My Internet Travels

When environmentalists make their cause sacred, they hurt science; meet bone-eater snotflower, they world's weirdest worm; destroying al Qaeda: a bad idea?

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Quickfire Questions

Just for fun, and so that I may pander more effectively to my readers.

  1. What's the best movie you've seen this year?...
  2. ...and what's the worst?...
  3. ...and why did it suck?
  4. What's the best book you've read this year?
  5. Which MPs should be locked in a room together?...
  6. ...and which bloggers?
  7. What's the most embarrassing book on your shelf?...
  8. ...and why haven't you hidden it?
  9. What kind of coffee do you drink?...
  10. ...and what's your favourite cocktail?
  11. Who's your favourite philosopher?
  12. ...scientist?
  13. ...economist?
  14. What book or movie would you rewrite, just to kill off in some gruesome way a particularly irritating character?
  15. What endangered species would you most like to eradicate?
  16. Do you believe in multiple universes?
  17. Who will be Prime Minister in 2020?...
  18. ...and would you like to bet on that?

Recall Elections?

For reasons not entirely clear to me, I read John Minto's blog, Frontline.

I've no particular beef with the man. I just think that in his public persona, he's so predictable that he probably wouldn't pass a Turing test, and that in his policy preferences, he appears to be committed whole-heartedly to the philosophical principle of reverse pragmatism: "whatever doesn't work".

In that frame of mind, I read his piece on the desirability of recall elections in New Zealand.

Now, I happen to think that recall elections are, at best, poisonous to the body politic.

At minimum, they create a culture of "all politics, all the time", and propel precisely the most disaffected, angry people in the population—the most fierce, implacable foes of everyone who actually manages to get people to vote for them—into the limelight.

Worse is the way Minto visualizes the recall being used: to remove people like Hide and Harawira from Parliament for what are basically minor transgressions. Is it really all that unacceptable that voters have to wait a year or two to get the chance to pass judgement on these men?

But the thing I like least about the recall is that they encrapify the already-crappy incentives MPs have. Instead of doing what they believe to be right regardless of whether or not it's popular—and that Parliamentarians may do this is one of the best features of representative democracy—, the threat of a recall hanging over them further encourages expedience and cowardice over judgement and principle, populism and demagoguery over reflection and reason.

We do elect MPs to lead. We elect them to spend their political capital following their best judgement. Subjecting them to the threat of recall just further enslaves them to whatever the most popular prejudice of the day is.

Assorted Links From My Internet Travels

Solar sails; wild animals are enough to make one want to pave the backyard; Bob Dylan fans as the battered wives of the music industry.

Regarding that last one: I've always thought of Dylan fans in much the same way I think of Mac users, in that the psychological comfort that comes from cult membership seems to be the dominant part of the value they get out the product.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Great Moments In Understatement

Of course, in those backward parts of the world where it is still November 9, people are commemorating the fall of the Berlin Wall.

But here in the future, it is November 10, and so I draw your attention to a different moment in history.

David Livingstone was an explorer and missionary who disappeared somewhere in Africa. At horrific expense and much tribulation—many servants died, many others were flogged—, Henry Morton Stanley went on an expedition to find him. On November 10, 1871, after a six month oddysey, Stanley found Livingstone in Tanzania, and greeted him with words that not only hit new heights of understatement, but possibly attained theoretical limits. He enquired: "Doctor Livingstone, I presume?"

Compared to this, Waiting For Godot reads like Oedipus Rex, and Oedipus Rex reads like the storyboard of an Emmerich movie.

Some other great moments in understatement:

  • I saw a woman flayed, and you will hardly believe how much it altered her person for the worse —Swift
  • All right, I can see the broken eggs. Where's this omelette of yours? —Istrati, on the USSR

And a pitch-perfect example from Philip Larkin (from Talking In Bed:

     Nothing shows why
At this unique distance from isolation

It becomes still more difficult to find
Words at once true and kind 
Or not untrue and not unkind.

Please do nominate more in the comments.

The Clipboard People

Always on the lookout for fresh ammunition to be used against the clipboard people—those young, earnest, clipboard-weilding people who want your money or your signature for some worthy cause—, I took particular note of Jay Nordlinger's offering today in The Corner.

His readers suggest several approaches:

  • When they come up to me, I always say, "Sorry, I’m Eastern Orthodox." I figure it’ll confuse them enough that it’ll rattle around in their head for a few days.
  • When they say, "Can you spare a moment for women’s rights?" I say, "No, I’m not into women."
  • Sorry, I’ve given all my money to the Republican National Committee.
  • My response to the global-warming clipboard people is to look them in the eye and say, "Polar bears eat baby seals."
  • "Would you like to help feed starving children?" "To what?"
  • Election Day 1984. It was the first time I was eligible to vote, and crossing campus after voting I was stopped by a student taking a survey. She asked me how I voted. I said, "Reagan." She looked mighty not happy. She said, "Why?" I said, "Because Nixon wasn’t running." Good times.

Now, in person, I make quite an effort not to be obnoxious about my political views or religious beliefs. For some reason I don't quite understand, the clipboard people have an effect on me whereby I feel no such compunction. I just let it all out.

It's especially bad if I'm in a good mood and eager to put on a show. I remember once putting on a straight face and arguing that it would be terribly sinful to throw back in God's face one of His most sublime gifts to us: whale meat.

The Cat Protection League (or Society or Whatever) often draws out particularly vile responses from me. I prophesied to one young woman that she would die alone at age eighty, except for her eighty cats (one for every year of life wasted), which would eat her before anyone noticed there is a body to discover.

More frequently, I've reminded the cat lovers that cats eat native birds for fun.

Telling a Save The Children clipboard-chugger (charity mugger) that I hate kids wasn't exactly a crowd-pleaser, but it sure made me feel better.

But my finest moment came a year or two back. Someone I knew—a friend—had been turned into one of the clipboard people. I bought him a kebab, and subjected him to a long—at turns vicious, manipulative, and sympathetic—interrogation. At the conclusion, my friend decided that his employment as a clipboard person was demeaning, and quit.

Often, these are just students desperately in need of money. The situation in Wellington in this: charity hires a "marketing firm" which hires students to harrass pedestrians. The students get well-below minimum wage, because they're on an impossible commission contract (they get railroaded into this when they take the job), the "marketing firm" takes a substantial cut, and the actual charity gets a penny.

Better than the clipboard people are the bucket-beggars for charity: they're normally actual volunteers and not slaves, and they don't harrass you so much because they don't need the commissions to make rent.

The Corporatism Files: Diaries

Taking the pithy comment offered by Brad Taylor in response to yesterday's post about rent-seeking in the party-pill sector—"Corporatism in everything."—and expanding it into what will hopefully be a long and fruitful series of blog posts, I've decided to highlight instances of companies seeking illegitimate advantage in the market through government intervention.

It's commonly supposed that big business dislikes regulation. Intuituvely, the idea seems plausible enough. There's only one problem: it's wrong. Almost exactly wrong.

Big business can absorb pernicious regulation fairly easily: they have in-house legal departments, they have various economies of scale working in their favour, and the cost of compliance with regulation per unit of output is trivial when compared to what their smaller competitors suffer. Big businesses, all too often, love regulation. They especially love rules and restrictions that shaft their competition.

So what I'm going to do is this: every now and then, when I spot a particularly egregious example of corporatism—a good name for this general phenomenon, distinguishing the practice from capitalism—, I'm going to highlight it here.

Different examples have different characteristics. Yesterday's was a bootleggers (Matt Bowden) and Baptists (Peter Dunne) story. Today, I have a cute little example of the idiocy of protectionism.

"Product dumping"—exporting stuff for less than what you sell it for domestically—is supposedly some big bad thing, presumably because it provides consumers with affordable goods while giving people in the developing world jobs: two truly horrible outcomes that no man with a genuine commitment to social justice can tolerate.

So, the powers that be became persuaded by vested interests—an unholy alliance of corporates and unions—to place levies on products so "dumped".

Enter Michael McCormack, an Island Bay artist. He designs diaries adorned with Wellington scenes, has them printed in China, and sells them here. Everyone wins, right? He makes a bit of money to finance his passion, some printers in China get paid employment, and consumers get pretty diaries. Right?

Oh no. He gets slapped with an anti-dumping levy, because he doesn't sell the diaries to all those people in China desperate to have scenes of Wellington life in their stationery.

But when he had another run made in China for 2009, he was surprised to find he could not pick them up until he paid a 53 per cent "anti-dumping" levy.

Talks with the Economic Development Ministry revealed that, with a few select items such as diaries, a levy has been enforced to deter countries selling items in New Zealand at cheaper prices than they do at home.

The ministry made no distinction between Kiwis who outsourced orders and other importers.

McCormack has got a wonderful attitude: instead of thrusting his hand out for free money, he turns some of his talents to making stuff that people want to buy. Even better, he accepts that there's some commercial risk in doing so: not all his diaries sold this year, but "Mr McCormack said his bugbear was not the leftover stock, which was to be expected in the risky publishing game, but more about the levy and the opportunity lost to build a market."

So this story has a hero. Where, you might ask, is the villain? Read on:

The diary duties were imposed after a complaint from the New Zealand industry, of which Croxley Stationery is the largest producer.

Of course. Some dude having two thousand diaries printed in China is obviously a threat to the local printing industry. So the industry calls in its mates at government to punish him.

Well done Croxley: you fail at capitalism. You've just been schooled by a struggling artist.

UPDATE: Inspired comment below by Matt:

The source of the problem is abusive government. Croxley cannot do harm like this unless officials are stupid enough or corrupted enough to wheel out 53% (I love that number - not 50%, not 30%, but 53.0% - no doubt the product of some bureaucrat spreadsheet with Solver set to maximise "fairness" in cell AC640).

UPDATE: now cross-posted at Fr33 Agents!

More On Methane

A new NASA study suggests atmospheric methane—CH4—has a larger warming effect than we think.

This is significant for New Zealand: uniquely in the developed world, methane emissions are the bulk of our greenhouse gas emissions. Because methane has much stronger radiative forcing than carbon dioxide—CO2—, and because of its compratively short half-life in the atmosphere, you get more bang for you buck in reducing methane emissions than CO2 emissions, in the short and short-medium term at least.

For this reason, at some point in the next decade or two, there's going to be a big international push focussed on dropping methane emissions. (I suspect the only reason it's not happening now is that nobody wants to admit Bjørn Lomborg might have a point: he's been pushing methane-targeting for a while now.) Our position as a developed country means we'll be under a lot of pressure to play along, and the prominence of methane in our emissions profile means this will hit us harder than it will almost every other country.

So it's vital that we start looking right now at the technologies that will allow us to continue producing food while cutting methane emissions.

Dropping agricultural production is one way, and seems to be favoured by some, but this ignores the problem that global population is increasing and that people need to eat.

So we need to look at ways to make our agriculture more efficient. Good progress is being made on a variety of fronts: we're learning more about the biochemistry of livestock—cattle in particular—; and using conventional breeding techniques, we're developing grass and legumes that are more efficiently digested by animals; and also the genetic modification approach seems to have some promise for the development of high-lipid grasses.

I note that there's some opposition to the latter: it's not particularly well-founded, and at some point, there needs to be a serious public understanding campaign to alleviate the fears of consumers. (Hardcore anti-GM campaigners are basically without hope, sadly.) Most likely, we'll need to use all these approaches in a mix, rather than entirely ignoring one of the most promising avenues, as GE Free NZ would have us do.

Two last things to note: this is just one study so far, and the results will need to be replicated before gaining full acceptance. Secondly, the apparent reason for our previous underestimate of methane's effect seems to be that we've only modelled what the stuff does once it's already well-mixed in the atmosphere; we've not looked properly at what it does on its journey from the surface to the sky. It seems it blocks the formation of certain aerosols which have a cooling effect in the atmosphere (and have other, less beneficial effects as well, but that's another story).

Assorted Links From My Internet Travels

Which Europeans are most likely to have smoked weed? (Hint: not the Dutch); Figuring out the Taliban; a wonderful-sounding new book on anti-science idiocy I really want to read.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Paging Brad Taylor

Apparently, you can't be trusted to restrict yourself to sane doses of 1,3-dimethylamylamine (DMAA). So Peter Dunne is riding to rescue you from yourself: he is restricting where you can buy the crap, and how much of it may be crammed into each pill.

Also, to prevent you slack-jawed yokels from becoming spellbound by the ultra-sophisticated razzle dazzle of all those advertisements for the stuff you can't seem to avoid between segments of According to Jim, those ads will be banned.

Putting aside for a paragraph or two the miscellaneous retardation of this regulation in search of a problem, I want to draw your attention the headline on Stuff: Party pill inventor backs restriction. Bootleggers and Baptists, anyone?

Maybe Matt Bowden is just glad that he's not having another line of his products banned, but I think this detail from late in the piece gives away his game:

Bowden urged Dunne to move quickly on dosage limits as new players entering the party-pill market could often only use higher doses as their point of difference to attract customers.

So that's what this is about: restricting the set of available business plans for new entrants to the market. Also, why would pill-strengthening be the only viable option for new entrants? Because other forms of product differentiation (advertising for one) are being banned?

Now, back to that miscellaneous retardation.

Lots of things aren't safe to consume in large doses. (Ethanol comes to mind.) Regulations like this send a message that the government is making sure that every recreational intoxicant you purchase legally is somehow "safe". This will increase rather than decrease consumer complacency about these chemicals.

Also, even assuming DMAA abuse were some major issue in this country, legislation like this is powerless to prevent people from taking unsafe doses of DMAA: people just buy more pills and take more at a time. So even if there were a point, this regulation would miss it.

Do not get me started on the 1-benzylpiperazine (BZP) ban. Banning is even stupider than regulating.

A Six In Front Of It

Via HomePaddock, I learn the first truly heartening piece of economic news all year: Fonterra is now forecasting a payout to suppliers of $6.05 per kilogram of milksolids.

For people unfamiliar with the arcana of the dairy industry, I have compiled a very crude key to what various payout figures mean.

  • <$3 Apocalypse.
  • $3 to $4 Wailing and gnashing of teeth.
  • $4 to $4.50 Massive strain.
  • $4.50 to $5 Farmers start to emerge from their bunkers.
  • $5 to $6 Farms functional.
  • $6 to $7 A decent year.
  • >$7 Party.

Assorted Links From My Internet Travels

Island photos taken from space; Adam Michnik interview (highly recommended); are Pakistan's nukes safe?

After a slightly crazy month, I think I'm in a position to resume regular blogging at last. The geometry series will resume tomorrow.

Unreasonably Good TV

If you didn't catch Glee on TV3, watch it now. Only one episode in, and I'm already getting fanatical about this show.

Think of it as Friday Night Lights that's a comedy about, well, glee club, instead of a drama about football.

For the record, I love Friday Night Lights, and also Gossip Girl. Between them, these three high school dramas crap on everything else everyone else is making. Some years ago, people used to argue the relative merits of British and American TV. A simple comparison of any one of these shows to Teachers demonstrates that this debate is over.

Friday, November 6, 2009

This Is Wicked Cool

Except on gay-rights stuff and free trade, I don't really follow American politics very closely, so I was a little late in seeing a wicked cool development in Takoma Park, Maryland.

They've done something awesome with the voting system in their municipal election: they've used the Scantegrity (II) voter verification.

Voters and vote-counters needn't notice any change. But voters of a paranoid disposition, who may wonder if their votes made it from the ballot box to the vote-counting desk and then counted correctly, can jump online and verify everything.

Here's how it works: when you fill in the multi-choice oval with the special pens at the polling booth, invisible ink in the oval shows up with a two-letter code. What you do is write down the two-letter code and your ballot form's serial number, and once the results come in, you jump online and punch in the serial number. If your vote was counted correctly, the two-letter code corresponding to your vote pops up. If no code pops up, you know you've been shafted. If the wrong code pops up, you enter the correct one, and trigger a manual rescan of your ballot.

There's some pretty sophisticated cryptographic wizadry going on behind the scenes to ensure that (1) nobody but you knows which candidate your two-letter code corresponds to, and (2) that you can be confident the two-letter code actually does correspond to the candidate you picked. (David Chaum, something of a one-man all-star team in the world of cryptographic protocols is involved.)

Basically, anyone—anyone in the world—with the mathematical and programming chops can be an election auditor. Your vote kinda gets filed twice, once for counting and once for verification, but in such a way as the auditors still doesn't know who you voted for. Fancy-pants algorithms are run on the verification filings. (If the fancy-pants algorithms are open-source, you can even check them for accuracy.)

So long as about 3%–5% of voters do the verification thing (and that they're spread pretty evenly and pretty randomly across the electorate), you can have a ridiculously high degree of confidence that fraud and human error haven't affected the outcome of the election.

As I said, wicked cool. I reckon New Zealand should be looking at this for 2011.

If you're interested in the technical deets, check out these two posts at Benlog: voter experience, auditing process.

Notice on this post the rare tag combination of politics and math.

Wow

I don't recall if I commented on the Bill English ad for some TVNZ 7 gabfest at the time. That stuff's altogether too boring.

One of the things that was mildly controversial was that English's staff got to rewrite parts of the script. Today, the Herald demonstrates this was an unambiguously good thing.

The initial TVNZ script was bad. How bad? I've walked in on people having really weird sex and the result was less embarrassing than this ad would have been had it gone to air as drafted.

Here are the changes:

  • SCRIPT: We can beat those Aussies. Time to back ourselves - kick for the corner then muscle over the line.
  • REWRITE: You know, we can beat those Aussies. It's time to back ourselves. With a bit of old fashioned Kiwi can-do, we'll get there.

In my experience, New Zealanders generally can grasp a point without it first being converted into a rugby metaphor. Besides that, the metaphor's crap: usually, kicks to the corner result in a try more due to the speed of the wingers than the muscle of the front row.

  • SCRIPT: It's time to give the snip snap to the zip zap plastic fantastic (make finger scissors gesture).
  • REWRITE: Lets get investing and back our exporters. That's where the jobs will come and that's how we can boost our incomes.

What the fuck does this even mean? Snip snip is the phrase normally associated with scissors. Snip snap is a slightly-showier way of saying oh, snap!. And "zip zap"? I honestly have no idea. I doubt anyone's actually said "plastic fantastic" since the nineties. It doesn't make me think "credit card" so much as

"I'm a Barbie girl in the Barbie world
Life in plastic, it's fantastic
You can brush my hair, undress me anywhere
Imagination, life is your creation."

Maybe I'm just showing my age and/or sexual orientation.

  • SCRIPT: Keep a few bob in the bank and Bob will be your uncle. We'll get there. Bottom line: it's your economy too.
  • REWRITE: We're nearly through the tough times and things are looking up. We have plenty of work to do. But I'm confident New Zealanders are up for it and together we'll do it. (Changed by TVNZ for final cut to We're nearly through the tough times and things are looking up. Together us Kiwis can do it.)

Well, I suppose if it made sense—any fucking sense at all—to claim that anyone owned the economy, then it may as well be mine, "too". Nice to know that's the "bottom line" of what preceded, because I was getting seriously worried that my savings were being inducted into the extended Drinkwater family. If that were the case, I'd feel real uncomfortable exchanging them for booze and hookers goods and services.

This is amazingly bad writing from TVNZ. Bill English is Finance Minister and Deputy PM. He's not this guy.

I was on a flight to Auckland recently, and the steward was one of the dudes wearing nothing but body paint in this safety video. He was rather sheepish as it was playing. Did the copywriters at TVNZ think it wise to inflict similar humiliation on the Finance Minister whenever he walks into Treasury?

Horrifyingly, TVNZ's corporate affairs chief Peter Parussini had this to say about the script: "trust me, it's looking good". Such a lapse in taste ought to be a sacking offence.

UPDATE: His Awesomeness Jake of Quinn concurs; Marty G thinks the rewrite is the biggest and most terrible innovation in corruption ever since the invention of corruption by Bill English; Danyl Mclauchlan favours the Drinkwater-Quinn thesis. Looks like I picked a winning spin.

Assorted Links From My Internet Travels

Training cats; military robots and the laws of war; Sam Spade, existentialist.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Ha! Just Try Getting Work Done Today!

You don't have a chance.

Via The Math Less Traveled.

What The Hell?

OK. There's only one possible explanation. National is in cahoots with big pharma, big pharma has developed a love potion of some description and has, instead of reaping the kind of profit that would make Midas himself look indigent, dumped a bottle into the Herald's water cooler.

Look at this picture:

This is embarrassing coverage. Allegedly, the "Best of Political Analysis" this country's best paper can come up with is that Tony Ryall can do no wrong, and that we should all salute John Key.

I'm not going to bitch and moan about the state of the media or do some kabuki commemorating the super-vital importance of opinion page columnists for the health of our democracy. That would be unbelievably lame.

But I am puking in my mouth just a little. And I'm a pretty hardcore National Party hack. (For the record: I'm not paid. I'm giving it away for free.)

A more plausible hypothesis: the other shoe's about to drop. I predict that the Herald will do a hitpiece on Bill English, and possibly call for his retirement.

Assorted Links From My Internet Travels

History of homicide; something that name-checks Tiebout in the first sentence, and thus qualifies immediately for inclusion in Assorted Links; dogs, like people, suck at picking people out of a lineup, with hilarious depressing predictable consequences.

10/10 In 36s

Endzone dance ensues.

Take the quiz here.