“When we inadvertently open a door and see someone pooping,” writes Adam Mastroianni, “we could curse ourselves, the someone, the door, and the universe. Or we could ask: why? Why doesn’t good design replicate and dominate?”

It’s a good question. And the answer, he argues, is that design requires two kinds of engineering: technological and psychological. And it turns out that the second one is a whole lot harder than the first.

“We all share the same laws of physics,” says Mastroianni, “so the technological engineering that works for me will also work for you. But we don’t share the same minds, so the psychological engineering that works for me may only work for me.”

It certainly explains the surfeit of bad design.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: the design life  |  make a comment

This is like that Seinfeld episode where Elaine’s coworker mistakenly refers to her as “Susie,” and Elaine decides it’s easier to live a double life than try to correct her.

Should we just stick with “Machu”? Smallpox and Spaniards pretty much wiped out anyone who might object. On second thought, though, maybe that’s reason enough to change the name.

Side note: Bingham’s Lost City of the Incas, the 1948 book about his discovery of Machu Huayna Picchu, is a great read.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

Karl Ove Knausgaard: “The expectation of an answer runs so deep that it is presumably fundamentally human, the most characteristic trait of our nature.”

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

Kind of cool that Archduke Eduard of Austria—Hungarian ambassador to the Holy See and the Sovereign Order of Malta—took to Twitter today, the Ides of March, to show us the very spot where Julius Caesar was assassinated 1,978 years ago.

On the #IdesofMarch, let me show you the spot where Caesar was killed. The remains of the Curia of Pompey (where the Senate met that day 44 BC) are under modern Largo Argentina. More or less at the foot of the tall pine tree.
(PS spot the cat) pic.twitter.com/x3II3sUda2

— Eduard Habsburg (@EduardHabsburg) March 15, 2022

According to National Geographic, “a group of as many as 60 conspirators…stabbed Caesar a reported 23 times, killing the Roman leader.” But it turns out that’s not the only reason the soothsayer warned Caesar to “Beware the Ides of March.”

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

Today is the 35th anniversary of the release of U2’s The Joshua Tree.

I was in college studying music at the time—meaning I was an insufferable twat—but I must’ve played this CD every day for weeks. (Along with everyone else, it seemed.) Which makes me wonder: When was the last time there was such unanimity around a pop music event?

I don’t mean being subjected to whatever tops the Billboard charts at any given moment (1987 also saw a lot of dreck, like Buster Poindexter and Richard Marx); I mean the appearance of a genuine work of art that not only unites disparate tastes, but also achieves both critical and commercial success. Maybe…Nirvana? Radiohead? I honestly don’t know.

What I do know is that it saddens me a little at how fractured our culture has become. Part of the reason it’s worth acknowledging The Joshua Tree, or The Wall, or Sgt. Pepper, is that these are shared experiences. “The soundtrack of our lives,” and all that. But with the demise of radio and everyone “curating” their own playlists, I’m afraid those days are long gone.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  comments(1)

cupidity (noun) Excessive desire, especially for wealth; covetousness or avarice. [Middle English cupidite, from Old French, from Latin cupiditas, from cupidus, desiring, from cupere, to desire.]*

“So what do you do?”

“I’m a writer.”

Sloan didn’t know why he admitted it. Usually he told women he was a graphic designer—the sort of job that practically guarantees a second date. But then he saw the cupidity in Frederica’s eyes.

“A writer?” She said breathlessly, moving in closer. “Tell me more.”

N.B. No, this has nothing to do with yesterday’s post. I just happened to come across the (apparently misspelled) adjectival form of cupidity this morning in a delightful account of the “not-so-unlikely friendship” between Vladimir Nabokov and William F. Buckley, Jr.

*American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, fourth edition (2000).

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: the writing life  |  make a comment

“Academic politics is the most vicious and bitter form of politics,” said Wallace Sayre, “because the stakes are so low.” If he were still around today—Sayre died in 1972—he’d probably see in the latest Grammys kerfuffle even more evidence for what came to be known as Sayre’s law.

Don’t get me wrong: Jon Batiste’s “Movement 11′” is absolutely not a classical composition. Check it out for yourself:

But how could anyone say—with a straight face, anyway—that “this jeopardises the credibility of the Grammy awards”? They’ve a been a joke for years. Led Zeppelin, who produced arguably the greatest four-album run in rock history, was nominated only once (for Best New Artist, which they lost to Crosby, Stills & Nash). Meanwhile Skrillex—Skrillex!—has won eight freaking Grammys. I mean, everyone knows how bad they are at this, right?

So, yeah. Awarding Best Classical Composition to Batiste would be dumb. But it wouldn’t be the dumbest thing the Recording Academy has done. Not by a long shot.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

Spokane: “We’ll try to get the city plowed in three days.” Montréal: “Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

Somehow I missed this film when it was released 25 years ago; I watched it with the missus over the weekend and was utterly transfixed. (What? You want a recommendation for something a little newer? Fine. The Last Duel is likewise excellent.)

Now this is a recipe I can get behind.

Tyler Cowen defends an album that shouldn’t need defending, but, well…here we are. (Obligatory old-man-yells-at-cloud comment: In 1966 alone, we saw the release of Pet Sounds, Blonde on Blonde, Revolver, Aftermath, Sunshine Superman, Freak Out!, and Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme. What the hell’s happened to pop music?)

Brooklyn in the 1970s.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment