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Five Links for February
3 years ago
confirmed
Abraham de Moivre correctly predicted the date of his own death.
He noted that he was sleeping 15 minutes longer each day and surmised that he would die on the day he slept for 24 hours. That date, he calculated, would be Nov. 27, 1754.
He was right.
He noted that he was sleeping 15 minutes longer each day and surmised that he would die on the day he slept for 24 hours. That date, he calculated, would be Nov. 27, 1754.
He was right.
Where I'm from.
I came to California when I was only 11 years old and not by choice. My father was one of the few who were invited to come to America from what was only recently the Soviet Union on a work visa.
In the first couple of months we were here, my family hiked the Santa Cruz Mountains and came up on a place called Hunters Point in Cupertino, near Stevens Creek; a clearing offering spanning views from San Francisco to South San Jose. We've been dragging our bikes along the way, so my brother and I sat down to rest on a big log. My father sat next to me and we were all silent catching our breath. Finally, he said "This... is the silicon valley. This is the reason why we came here. This is why we left the life we knew behind, our friends, our apartment, our belongings and our country. This is why we are learning English. Because this is a place unlike any other in the world, where anything is possible.."
I didn't understand what he was talking about. My questions about what silicon was and what it had to do with anything were answered by long rants on the importance and progress of the computer chip industry, and went completely over my head. It was not until a few years later when I remembered those words, standing on the same spot and realizing that I was feeling the exact same thing that he must have been feeling back then.
In De Anza I took a Writing course that had a required reading of Joan Didion. It was the first time I read about the early settlers of CA. These were not explorers. They were families. Families with comfortable lives on the East Coast, with jobs, and friends, and houses. Families who one day, gathered all the money they've been saving, bought cattle, packed their belongings, pulled their children out of schools, and took off to uncertainty, isolation, the possibility of suffering, starvation and even death. They set on a dangerous path and they didn't even know what they would find when they got there. Many died, many got lost and never made it, but those that did became some of the founders of California. Families with names like Stanford, Hollister and Haas.
Then came the transcontinental railroads - men who connected the continent and revolutionized the social, political, and economical development of the state. They were outlaws and rugged cowboys bordering on criminals in their boldness and intensity. They ran monopolies. They became millionaires. They had a vision, they had a drive, they spanned distances that now cover over 7 states, and they changed landscapes forever. First and foremost, they were entrepreneurs.
This pattern never ended - after the railroads, there were the aqueducts, the dams, the water, and the agriculture, after that there was the aerospace industry and the suburban sprawl, after that LA and entertainment, then the immigration, etc etc etc
It is not by accident that silicon valley happened exactly here and nowhere else in the world. It is nothing new. The first settlers of California would have scoffed at us for thinking we are something special.
My east coast friends do not understand this. They laugh at how small San Francisco is, or how unprofessional the start-ups can be. They miss the old-school establishments that are present in NY, Pennsylvania, and Boston and value traditions and degrees. But that's not what SF and CA are about. They never strove for that. It is not because it is not capable, but because it decided to leave all of that behind that California is missing these things. California ran away from it, over the plains, through the continent, over the Rockies away from it.
I am from California. And it is precisely because I was not born here, and because I am not an American citizen, nor do I consider myself a representative of the country, that I am truly Californian.
In the first couple of months we were here, my family hiked the Santa Cruz Mountains and came up on a place called Hunters Point in Cupertino, near Stevens Creek; a clearing offering spanning views from San Francisco to South San Jose. We've been dragging our bikes along the way, so my brother and I sat down to rest on a big log. My father sat next to me and we were all silent catching our breath. Finally, he said "This... is the silicon valley. This is the reason why we came here. This is why we left the life we knew behind, our friends, our apartment, our belongings and our country. This is why we are learning English. Because this is a place unlike any other in the world, where anything is possible.."
I didn't understand what he was talking about. My questions about what silicon was and what it had to do with anything were answered by long rants on the importance and progress of the computer chip industry, and went completely over my head. It was not until a few years later when I remembered those words, standing on the same spot and realizing that I was feeling the exact same thing that he must have been feeling back then.
In De Anza I took a Writing course that had a required reading of Joan Didion. It was the first time I read about the early settlers of CA. These were not explorers. They were families. Families with comfortable lives on the East Coast, with jobs, and friends, and houses. Families who one day, gathered all the money they've been saving, bought cattle, packed their belongings, pulled their children out of schools, and took off to uncertainty, isolation, the possibility of suffering, starvation and even death. They set on a dangerous path and they didn't even know what they would find when they got there. Many died, many got lost and never made it, but those that did became some of the founders of California. Families with names like Stanford, Hollister and Haas.
Then came the transcontinental railroads - men who connected the continent and revolutionized the social, political, and economical development of the state. They were outlaws and rugged cowboys bordering on criminals in their boldness and intensity. They ran monopolies. They became millionaires. They had a vision, they had a drive, they spanned distances that now cover over 7 states, and they changed landscapes forever. First and foremost, they were entrepreneurs.
This pattern never ended - after the railroads, there were the aqueducts, the dams, the water, and the agriculture, after that there was the aerospace industry and the suburban sprawl, after that LA and entertainment, then the immigration, etc etc etc
It is not by accident that silicon valley happened exactly here and nowhere else in the world. It is nothing new. The first settlers of California would have scoffed at us for thinking we are something special.
My east coast friends do not understand this. They laugh at how small San Francisco is, or how unprofessional the start-ups can be. They miss the old-school establishments that are present in NY, Pennsylvania, and Boston and value traditions and degrees. But that's not what SF and CA are about. They never strove for that. It is not because it is not capable, but because it decided to leave all of that behind that California is missing these things. California ran away from it, over the plains, through the continent, over the Rockies away from it.
I am from California. And it is precisely because I was not born here, and because I am not an American citizen, nor do I consider myself a representative of the country, that I am truly Californian.
Two scavengers in a truck, two beautiful people in a Mercedes
At the stoplight waiting for the light
nine a.m. downtown San Francisco
a bright yellow garbage truck
with two garbagemen in red plastic blazers
standing on the back stoop
one on each side hanging on
and looking down into
an elegant open Mercedes
with an elegant couple in it
The man
in a hip three-piece linen suit
with shoulder-length blond hair and sunglassed
The young blond woman so casually coifed
with short skirt and coloured stockings
on the way to his architect's office
And the two scavengers up since four a.m.
grungy from their route
on the way home
The older of the two with grey iron hair
and hunched back
looking down like some
gargoyle Quasimodo
And the younger of the two
also with sunglasses and long hair
about the same age as the Mercedes driver
And both scavengers gazing down
as from a great distance
at the cool couple
as if they were watching some odourless TV ad
in which everything is always possible
And the very red light for an instant
holding all four close together
as if anything at all were possible
between them
across that small gulf
in the high sea
of this democracy.
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
nine a.m. downtown San Francisco
a bright yellow garbage truck
with two garbagemen in red plastic blazers
standing on the back stoop
one on each side hanging on
and looking down into
an elegant open Mercedes
with an elegant couple in it
The man
in a hip three-piece linen suit
with shoulder-length blond hair and sunglassed
The young blond woman so casually coifed
with short skirt and coloured stockings
on the way to his architect's office
And the two scavengers up since four a.m.
grungy from their route
on the way home
The older of the two with grey iron hair
and hunched back
looking down like some
gargoyle Quasimodo
And the younger of the two
also with sunglasses and long hair
about the same age as the Mercedes driver
And both scavengers gazing down
as from a great distance
at the cool couple
as if they were watching some odourless TV ad
in which everything is always possible
And the very red light for an instant
holding all four close together
as if anything at all were possible
between them
across that small gulf
in the high sea
of this democracy.
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Friends
I tend to go out a lot and I meet a lot of people. Many people I meet I don't think I will ever understand or have anything in common with at all. Then there are a whole bunch of people who I think are okay, but I'm not super thrilled or interested about. I still hang out with these people and talk to them, and see them often, and form friendships with them - it's not that I'm fooling anyone, I just prefer to keep an honestly positive outlook in life. And I always tend see more good things in people than bad. Only once in a blue moon I'll meet someone who I actually get really excited to talk to.
I'm starting to realize that this majority, the vast mass of people who I don't mind, but don't particularly care for, are not only useless to me, but are actually detrimental to my well being.
I think it's really important to remain genuine, preserve your integrity, and insist on only associating with those who you have a strong connection to.
I'm starting to realize that this majority, the vast mass of people who I don't mind, but don't particularly care for, are not only useless to me, but are actually detrimental to my well being.
I think it's really important to remain genuine, preserve your integrity, and insist on only associating with those who you have a strong connection to.
Tarkovsky
My favorite movie is Stalker. It's about an area in Siberia, contaminated after a fall of a meteor where a room was discovered in which people's innermost desires come true. Few people dare go there, but a few "stalkers" lead people in. The movie follows a stalker, a writer, and a scientist on their journey to this room through the "zone".
Topic for discussion
"The whole idea of men creating perfect robot women for their own pleasure, it happens every day. The most "beautiful" women you see in public, none of them are for real. They're just men perpetuating their perverted stereotypes of women. Just the oldest story in the world.There's a penis on every page of Cosmopolitan magazine if you know where to look." - Chuck Palahnuik
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