Saturday, July 26, 2008

Friday, July 25, 2008

The 10% Myth

A few months ago, I read Stephen King's Cell, his somewhat flawed take on the zombie genre.

Speaking in broad generalizations, once you get past the "grrr, argh, brains", zombie tales are allegorical in nature, whether it's consumerism, foreign policy, or the democratization of the media. Cell is no different. It takes the rather obvious premise of "cellphone users as zombies" and runs with it.

Overall, I think King did an OK job -- the zombies aren't really classic George Romero zombies; King injects enough of his own variations into the equation to keep you guessing. Sadly, the novel falls down when King tries to explain the cause and mechanics of the outbreak, and falls down hard. Technical plausibility has never been his strong suit. Given the story direction this was probably not possible, but I'd have preferred if he had left out most of the details completely.

One of those details is this: that humans only use 10% of their brain, and by extrapolation, that the other 90% is untapped potential just waiting to be unlocked. No one is sure exactly where this myth originated but there isn't any doubt that it's pretty widespread. It's most often used as evidence to advance claims that psychic powers are plausible.

I don't mind psychic abilities appearing in speculative fiction. Just figure out a different way of rationalizing it (assuming you bother to; it's not always necessary). Explicitly quoting the 10% myth breaks the suspension of disbelief--at least for me.

It's just not true.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Elevator Blues

About a week ago, I came across a fascinating New Yorker article on elevators (via kottke.org). Framing the article and interspersed throughout is the account of Nicholas White, an office worker who was trapped in a stuck elevator for 41 hours.

41 hours. Think about that for a second. That's almost two whole days in a space smaller than most jail cells, with no food, water, bed, or toilet.
The control panel made a beep, and White waited a moment, expecting a voice to offer information or instructions. None came. He pressed the intercom button, but there was no response. He hit it again, and then began pacing around the elevator. After a time, he pressed the emergency button, setting off an alarm bell, mounted on the roof of the elevator car, but he could tell that its range was limited. Still, he rang it a few more times and eventually pulled the button out, so that the alarm was continuous. Some time passed, although he was not sure how much, because he had no watch or cell phone. [...] He also began hearing unlikely oscillations in the ringing: aural hallucinations. Before long, he began to contemplate death.
White's ordeal was captured on a security camera. Watching the timelapse video is quite discomfiting, primarily because White looks like a bug trapped in a glass box frantically beating its body against the walls, but also because I start to imagine what White must have gone through -- panic, boredom, futility, and despair.


The story doesn't end well.
Looking back on the experience now, with a peculiarly melancholic kind of bewilderment, he recognizes that he walked onto an elevator one night, with his life in one kind of shape, and emerged from it with his life in another.
The rest of the article does a good job of delivering details on what is seemingly not a rich topic. I was glad to see that the article mentioned a key fact about elevators and skyscrapers that I learned in a Humanities course in college:
Two things make tall buildings possible: the steel frame and the safety elevator. The elevator, underrated and overlooked, is to the city what paper is to reading and gunpowder is to war.
I also found the concept of "elevatoring" a building--designing the entire elevator system based on predictions of how many people will use them and in what patterns--very interesting. People have a maximum elevator wait time they're willing to endure. Any more and frustration sets in. Elevatoring is an inexact science but you know when you've got it wrong.

And this tied nicely into an article I'd read about bottom-up game design by Ernest W. Adams, where he talked about SimTower. Ostensibly a skyscraper "software toy" in the same vein as SimCity, the fundamental gameplay mechanic of SimTower was really elevator simulation. Elevatoring a building is a great problem to approximate and simulate on a computer but it doesn't necessarily translate into fun gameplay.

As a coda of weird synergy, two days ago the elevator in our building got stuck between floors. They're going to install a 24-hour support phone shortly.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Radioactive Kitty

Just like his brother before him, Rascal turns out to suffer from hyperthyroidism. He's always been a somewhat manic cat but our first real indication came when he lost his appetite and began throwing up all over the place. Luckily, after a quick visit to our vet, Dr. Bill Ignacio, we managed to bring his thyroid levels back to normal through twice-daily applications of methimazole.


Methimazole treats the symptoms of hyperthyroidism but not the cause: it's a lifelong prescription. After much consideration, Kyenta and I decided to give Rascal the radioactive iodine treatment option, which targets the thyroid tumour itself. Rascal had to get some bloodwork done. All was normal except for the initial indicators of kidney disease -- sigh. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Because the treatment involves honest-to-goodness radioactive iodine, Rascal has to follow some pretty strict procedures. He gets his treatment on Wednesday and has to remain at the clinic for 10 days of observation and isolation. After that, he can come home but we have to avoid holding him for extended periods or allowing him to sit on our laps.

That last caveat made me think of a really cut-rate way to perform sterilization. Instead of going in for a vasectomy or a tubal ligation, you just have to cuddle a radioactive kitty for thirty minutes.

I wonder what superpowers Rascal will manifest when he's back from the vet? The ability to miaow constantly for hours at a time? Super-hearing that detects a can opening anywhere in the house? The powers of incredibly prolonged stasis in the presence of strong sunlight? The mind boggles....

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Memories of Pixar

The Vancouver Siggraph event last week was a double bill, with the first half being Michael Rubin talking about Droidmaker, his book about George Lucas and the Digital Revolution.

The second half was Dr. Alvy Ray Smith, one of the pioneers of computer animation and co-founder of Pixar. Over the course of about an hour, Alvy recounted story after story about those early days, starting off at the New York Institute of Technology, getting the call from George Lucas (actually George Lucas' real estate lawyer), moving to San Francisco to start up the Lucasfilm Computer Division with Ed Catmull, the Pixar spin-off and subsequent acquisition by Steve Jobs, and more.

It was serendipitous to have both Alvy and Rubin there because, as Alvy noted several times, Rubin was quick to point out inaccuracies or inconsistencies in Alvy's stories. Alvy was quite frank about this, stating that while his memories of those events were indisputable in his own mind, he had to reconcile them with Rubin's facts. And when facts weren't available and Rubin had to rely on memories alone, he had the people involved "vet" each others' stories and come to a mutual consensus. One such story was the naming of the company's hardware product, the Pixar Image Computer.

Not only did I find Alvy's reminiscences fascinating because of the personal glimpse into the history of a seminal CG company, I also identified strongly with his self-aware recognition of the interplay between malleable memory and immutable fact. Discovering that Alvy is also interested in consciousness and cognition was just the icing on the cake.

A friend of mine, who was the main impetus behind this event, got to have dinner with both Michael Rubin and Dr. Alvy Ray Smith. That would have been wonderful company with great conversation. You are a lucky man, Tim Belsher, and I am deeply envious of you.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The Man Behind the Digital Revolution

I'm talking about George Lucas, of course. Everyone knows that he created Lucasfilm when he made Star Wars (the first one, A New Hope). Most people know that he also started up Industrial Light and Magic to create the effects for his films. And many people know that Pixar was originally a section of the Lucasfilm Computer Division before it was spun off and Steve Jobs bought it.

Michael Rubin, author of Droidmaker, spoke at a Vancouver Siggraph event last night. An animated, energetic individual, Rubin presented highlights of his book and gave us an overview of the genesis of many of the digital technologies in use today: computer animation, digital non-linear audio and video editing, digital optical printing, online avatars, and more.

Rubin also talked about the context behind Lucas' drive and decisions. Much of Lucas' ambition is framed in the context of his friendship and rivalry with Francis Ford Coppola. And despite his films having the reputation of being high-tech and cutting edge, Lucas isn't very techno-savvy. He started up these computer divisions as skunkworks projects--knowing full well that they wouldn't bear fruit for ten or twenty or more years--in the hopes that they would produce results that would help him make better films more easily. And say what you will about his talents as a writer or a filmmaker... you have to give the man credit for funding these projects (and Steve Jobs after him, in Pixar's case) that eventually came to fruition and yielded many of the digital technologies we now take for granted.

I highly recommend the book for anyone interested in a behind-the-scenes perspective of the history of the digital revolution.