Speed of Information Travel to London, 1798-1914

Sunday, July 12th, 2009 – 10 comments

The book A Farewell to Alms is mostly about economic history, and specifically about how (in the author’s view) living standards were pretty stable and consistent for much of humanity until 1800, after which living standards increased dramatically in rich countries, and declined dramatically in poor countries, to the point where they are less well off than before 1800.

Anyway, part of this argument is a table showing how long in took for news of significant events to reach London. I thought this pretty interesting in itself–we’re not accustomed to news taking days or even hours to go around the world now, and even when reading history you usually get the impression that events were known immediately. (The dramatic speeding up of news reports around 1880 was a result of the invention and deployment of the telegraph.)

Event Year Distance (miles) Days until report Speed (mph)
Battle of the Nile 1798 2073 62 1.4
Battle of Trafalgar 1805 1100 17 2.7
Earthquake, Kutch, India 1819 4118 153 1.1
Treaty of Nanking 1842 5597 84 2.8
Charge of the Light Brigade, Crimea 1854 1646 17 4.0
Indian Mutiny, Delhi Massacre 1857 4176 46 3.8
Treaty of Tien-Sin (China) 1858 5140 82 2.6
Assassination of Lincoln 1865 3674 13 12
Assassination of Archduke Maximilian, Mexico 1867 5545 12 19
Assassination of Alexander II, St. Petersburg 1881 1309 0.46 119
Nobi Earthquake, Japan 1891 5916 1 246

What beliefs will horrify future generations?

Friday, May 22nd, 2009 – no comments

On Reddit eliot2000 asked: “So many of our grandparents were racist, and some of our parents are homophobes. Which of our own closely held beliefs will our own children and grandchildren by appalled by?” Phil Dhingra collected some responses:

  • That drugs were illegal
  • Eating meat
  • Privacy
  • Our lack of racism
  • Religious overtolerance
  • Monogamy (or anti-polygamy)
  • Nationalism
  • Nudity and Pornography taboos
  • Charging money for information
  • Representative democracy over direct democracy
  • Our aversion to eugenics or designer babies
  • Imprisonment vs. rehabilitation

Some thoughts:

  • eating meat – I think this will be difficult to score because we’ll probably mostly be eating artificial meat. (It will be cheaper, more environmentally responsible, healthier and cleaner.) My guess is that some people will still eat “real meat” for various reasons (prefer taste, can afford it, connection with the past, squeamish about the artificial stuff), but that there won’t be much outrage about this because so few people will be doing it.
  • charging for information – I very much doubt they would find this appalling. It’s quite likely that we won’t pay for information in the same way that we do now, but I think future generations would see why things now are arranged the way they are. (Historical reasons, because it’s possible to.)
  • attitude toward the poor – This is one thing we could be doing much more about, but aren’t. I reckon we’ll get smacked by future generations for this.

Reviews from 30000ft

Friday, May 22nd, 2009 – no comments

Gran Torino–Korean-vet Clint Eastwood gets grumpy with Asian gangs messing with his Asian neighbours. Good movie, but more interestingly, an impressive movie (tight, controlled, no extraneous parts). The ending is pretty sad. Eastwood is very good.

Appaloosa–Western with Viggo Mortensen, Ed Harris, Renée Zellweger. (Curiously the inflight movie guide listed Viggo Mortensen as the one star.) Meanders a bit too much (in plot and character development), but adequate. Mortensen wears some interesting double buttoned shirts.

Palladio at the Royal Academy

Saturday, March 7th, 2009 – no comments

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Last week I went to see the Palladio Exhibition at the Royal Academy. It hasn’t received very good reviews, and I have no reason to disagree with the reviewers, but one of the things that bugged me about it though was something I’ve not seen mentioned in the reviews: the really poor writing and explanations. I would say most recent exhibitions have disappointed. (One happy exception was Olafur’s Eliasson’s artist statement at the beginning of the boat tour of his NYC Waterfalls project–I don’t remember the details of what he said, but he managed to convey a whole lot of why and how (including a justification for why public money should be spent on the project) as well as deepen my appreciation for what he’d done and the art itself.)

Anyway, here’s the complete text of one panel from the Palladio exhibition (Palazzo Chiericati, 1550), interspersed with some comments:

In 1546 Girolamo Chiericati inherited a few old houses on a narrow site on the west side of the Piazza dell’Isola, in the east of Vicenza. The open area, which was bounded on two sides by rivers, accommodated the city’s river port and its cattle and timber markets. Having advocated Palladio as the architect for the Basilica, in 1550 Chiericati commissioned him to build a new palazzo on the land.

What do you mean “accommodated the city’s river port and its cattle and timber markets”? “Accommodate” means “to hold without crowding or inconvenience.” (At least I think this is the way “accommodate” is being used.) And it’s typically applied to animate things, or at least things that can move. You can accomodate (some number of) guests or ships; you don’t accomodate single things that can’t move, like a port or a market.

Palladio’s design made a virtue of an unpromising, severely constrained site, and he eventually delivered a building that demonstrated that he had reached full maturity.

The “eventually” is unnecessary, as well as being inaccurate since, as described below, the building wasn’t complete until over one hundred years after construction commenced–well after Palladio’s death. And in what was did the building demonstrate that Palladio had “reached full maturity”? How about just one example of his maturity, or evidence that this is a widely held belief?

In order to gain additional residential space, Chiericati petioned the city council for permission to use a strip of land 4.64 metres wide in front of the site, for the portico of his new building.

Irrelevant! I don’t care that Chiericati’s manoeuvring opened up more space at the front of the building. The historical importance of the building has nothing to do with planning permission.

On the piano nobile (first floor), additional space was gained for the grand sala, which was flanked by two loggias; while on the ground floor, a public facility was provided, a colonnaded walkway opening onto the piazza.

Where did this “additonal space” come from? Is it something to do with the portico? How is walkway a “public facility” and what does this mean anyway? (Especially poor punctuation in this sentence, as well.)

The double-order loggia topped with a row of statues, derived in part from recently published reconstructions of the Roman Forum, combined with the projecting sala on the piano nobile, confirmed the design of the palazzo as entirely innovative, and demonstrated Palladio’s knowledge of ancient Roman prototypes and his recognition of the importance of the new urban palazzo.

What a bad sentence. What was “derived in part”? The statues themselves? The idea for a “double-order loggia topped with a row of statues”? The “confirm” in “confirmed the design of the palazzo…” is wrong-headed. In this sense, “confirm” means to remove doubt about something believed or suspected to be true–but in this case there is no doubt, no theory. If this particular feature is innovative, say that! Finally, I don’t see how this feature provides any evidence for or against Palladio recognising the “importance of the new urban palazzo.”

With its view from the first floor of the loggia to the countryside beyond, Palazzo Chiericati also made reference to the suburban villa, which Palladio was later to address at the Villa Foscari (‘La Malcontenta’) on the Brenta and the Villa Almerico Capra (Villa Rotonda) outside Vicenza.

Really awkward. Palladio “made reference to the suburban villa” with a view to the countryside? Huh? And what is Palladio addressing, exactly? You can only address an issue or problem, which a house isn’t.

Girolamo Chriericati died in 1558. His son, Valerio, chose to halt construction with only the first four bays on the left of the structure built. The palazzo remained unfinished for over a century but it was published as complete in the Quattro Libri, leading subsequent students of Palladio’s work, such as Inigo Jones, to be shocked to find it unrealised when they visited.

“Subsequent” is unnecessary. Saying “published as complete” either wrong, or too casual for academic writing: books are published, palazzos (the referent of “it”) aren’t. What’s wrong with “described as complete”, or “listed as complete”? Finally, if the building is so great, why wasn’t it completed? Maybe lack of money is the reason, but there could be other–and somewhat interesting reasons.

Do U Need A Drumer

Thursday, January 1st, 2009 – no comments

Do U Need A Drumer

(Have been going through old photos; this is from August 2002.) Quite a lot of responses, despite not being about to spell.

Just For Men vs. Ahmadinejad

Wednesday, December 31st, 2008 – no comments

just-for-men-vs-ahmadinejad

Can’t be true, but wouldn’t it be great if it were?

The Home, According to the V&A

Wednesday, December 31st, 2008 – no comments

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The V&A states the obvious:

Homes: The home is the most common form of building in the world. Whether housing a large family or just one person, all homes are arranged around domestic routines and activities. Local traditions affect the ways in which private and public rooms are designed. The size and individuality of our homes may also say something about our social standing.

The V&A’s Architecture section isn’t that great, but the entrance does feature an extraordinary isometric drawing of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Would love to get a print of this!

Regarding houses, one of my favourites is Mies van der Rohe’s Farnsworth House.

The Most Surprising Thing That Happened to Me on Christmas Day

Sunday, December 28th, 2008 – 2 comments

Across the road from my place–I can see it from my kitchen window, to the right of the pharmacy with the Banksy on the side wall–is this little Turkish cafe called Casaba. I’ve been there once or twice to get a hot chocolate, and it’s rather nicer inside than it would appear from the outside. (This is a surprisingly frequent turn of events when it comes to the shops of Essex Rd.) Anyway, one of the more perplexing things about Casaba is its very unusual (and seemingly unpredictable) opening hours–not open early in the morning, not open on Saturday afternoon, not open Sunday; open Monday evening, open Tuesday evening.

On Christmas night around 10.30, Pearlie and I were walking home along Essex Rd, and noting which shops were open and which were shut (Raab’s Bakery, dry cleaners, Co-op, Mississippi Fried Chicken–shut; minicab booth–open; dodgy Burger/Kebab/Pizza near minicab booth–open; the two largish 24 hour convenience stores that flank the Co-op–open!) and got to musing whether Casaba would be open too. Wouldn’t that be quite something? For the plucky little cafe to be serving on Christmas night?

And then, as we got closer, we saw that the sign on the door said “OPEN.” We were walking along the other side of the road and it was dark, and it was dark inside too, but there seemed to be people in there. We went a little bit closer and yes, there were definitely people inside. We crossed the street and opened the door. Some music was playing pretty loud. “Are you open?” we asked, still standing in the doorway. Yes, yes, replied the patrons and staff. (It never did become completely clear who worked there, and who was just visiting.) So we stopped by and I drank an Efes and Pearlie an apple tea. And that’s really the end of this story–the most surprising thing that happened to me on Christmas Day.

Oh, one of the reasons that Casaba’s opening hours seemed so eccentric was that they’d recently changed from being a cafe to a bar. (Business hadn’t been so good, evidently. According to the owner (co-owner?) Casaba had once been a successful Sisha bar (29 flavours!) but the smoking ban had changed that pretty quick.)

P.S. The most surprising thing that happened on Christmas Eve what that some dodgy chorizo undid my stomach, so I spent a large part of the night throwing up. I felt fragile for most of Christmas too, and spent most of it in bed. The pink lady apples were nicely medicinal though.

The Seventh Seal

Friday, October 3rd, 2008 – no comments

The Seventh Seal (1957), dir. Ingmar Bergman. Bergman was investigated by the Swedish government for tax evasion in the 1970s; though acquitted, he was so shaken by the experience that he quit making films for eight years.

Maids of honor

Tuesday, August 5th, 2008 – 2 comments

So you’re reading a profile of Chinese musician Yang Yang in The New Yorker (link leads to an extract only) and you come across a passage that goes

When he is handed flowers, the first thing he does after smiling and saying thanks, is look around, eyes darting, for somewhere to ditch the flowers. For nine days I felt like a maid of honor.

… and then you flip back a few pages to check that, yes, it was David Remnick, the editor of The New Yorker himself, who wrote the piece, and who is now graciously subordinating himself to the subject of his profile.