Friday, August 29, 2008

The Cupertino effect

I didn't know that there was a name for it. From Wikipedia:

The Cupertino effect is the tendency of spellcheckers to replace a misspelling with a completely inappropriate word.
Better: "to suggest a completely inappropriate word to replace a misspelled word," as it's the user who makes the decision to replace or keep the word. (I just edited the article.)

Someone just added to my revision:
The Cupertino effect is the tendency of spellcheckers to suggest a completely inappropriate word to replace a misspelled word, or a correctly spelled word that is missing from the spellchecker's dictionary.
That's better still. I just went back to condense the sentence:
The Cupertino effect is the tendency of a spellchecker to suggest inappropriate words to replace misspelled words and words not in its dictionary.
The Cupertino effect explains the Appellation Mountains, among other mysteries.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

August 28, 2008

From the prepared text of Barack Obama's acceptance speech:

This country of ours has more wealth than any nation, but that's not what makes us rich. We have the most powerful military on Earth, but that's not what makes us strong. Our universities and our culture are the envy of the world, but that's not what keeps the world coming to our shores.

Instead, it is that American spirit — that American promise — that pushes us forward even when the path is uncertain; that binds us together in spite of our differences; that makes us fix our eye not on what is seen, but what is unseen, that better place around the bend.

That promise is our greatest inheritance. It's a promise I make to my daughters when I tuck them in at night, and a promise that you make to yours — a promise that has led immigrants to cross oceans and pioneers to travel west; a promise that led workers to picket lines, and women to reach for the ballot.

And it is that promise that forty-five years ago today, brought Americans from every corner of this land to stand together on a Mall in Washington, before Lincoln's Memorial, and hear a young preacher from Georgia speak of his dream.

The men and women who gathered there could've heard many things. They could've heard words of anger and discord. They could've been told to succumb to the fear and frustration of so many dreams deferred.

But what the people heard instead — people of every creed and color, from every walk of life — is that in America, our destiny is inextricably linked. That together, our dreams can be one.
E pluribus unum.

Susan Eisenhower

Is it common knowledge that Susan Eisenhower is speaking at Mile High Stadium tonight? As in Eisenhower: she is Ike's granddaughter.

Google that

Just a few minutes ago:

"Thank you very much, Eric Google."
Tom Brokaw, at the Democratic National Convention, ending an interview with Eric Schmidt, CEO of you-know-what.

Yes, the television's already on, and I'm wound up, as I suspect Tom Brokaw is.

August 28, 1963

Forty-five years ago today:

Finishing his prepared remarks, he seemed ready to sit down, when Mahalia Jackson called out from behind him, "Tell them about your dream, Martin! Tell them about the dream!"

James T. Patterson, Grand Expectations: The United States, 1945–1974 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996), 483
If you've never read or heard it, now's the time:

I Have a Dream (InfoUSA)
I Have a Dream (YouTube)

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

"Fake following"

This is a little bit genius. One of the new features of FriendFeed (a Twitter-like thingie) is "fake following." That means you can friend someone but you don't see their updates. That way, it appears that you're paying attention to them when you're really not. Just like everyone does all the time in real life to maintain their sanity. Rex calls it "most important feature in the history of social networks" and I'm inclined to agree. It's one of the few new social features I've seen that makes being online buddies with someone manageable and doesn't just make being social a game or competition.
I read this paragraph from kottke.org three times yesterday, trying to decide whether "a little bit genius" and the final sentence were meant ironically. An update seems to answer my question.

(Pretending to pay attention when you aren't is not a game of sorts? I guess I just wasn't made for these times.)

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

House?



They're not solar panels, oddly placed: the client's reply — "Now show me something I can afford to heat!" — rules them out. What then are those things? (And how many floors does this house have? And where's the front door?!)

Your speculations are welcome in the comments.

[Hi and Lois, August 26, 2008.]

Related posts
Hi and Escher?
House?
Returning from vacation with Hi and Lois
Sunday at the beach with Hi and Lois
Vacationing with Hi and Lois

"Hey Jude"



Forty years ago today: the American release of the Beatles' "Hey Jude" (b/w "Revolution"). The promotional clips are still exciting to watch:

"Hey Jude" (YouTube)
"Revolution" (YouTube)

Wikipedia has helpful background on both songs.

That's my 45 above (mono!). It still works.

A related post
I remember Sgt. Pepper

Monday, August 25, 2008

Penguin's not so great idea

I was surprised to receive today a reply from Penguin to my question about the availability of the third series of Great Ideas paperbacks in the United States. Says Penguin, "We do not have plans at the moment to publish the Penguin Great Ideas series in the USA."

Chicago's Seminary Co-op (God's bookstore, as I called it the other day) thinks that it can get the books through a distributor, without undue shipping costs (1-800-777-1456). (If, by the way, you've thought of ordering from Amazon.ca, the cost of shipping from Canada to the States doubles the price of a Great Ideas volume, to about $20.)

If you'd like to encourage Penguin to bring the third series of Great Ideas to the States, you might want to leave a message on the publisher's Ask a Question page.

Habana notebooks


[Orange notebook art. Click for a larger, orange-ier view.]

4" x 6 7/8", 96 sheets, 27 lines per page
6 1/4" x 9 1/4", 80 sheets, 25 lines per page

When Quo Vadis offered interested parties the chance to evaluate its Habana notebooks, I promptly raised my hand. As a regular reader of Orange Crate Art already knows, I love "supplies," a primal love that goes back to my childhood interest in my dad's art materials.

My acquaintance with Quo Vadis products goes back to my grad school days, when a Quo Vadis page-a-day planner became my tool of choice in the neverending battle to stay organized. ("That's what all the yuppies use," a saleswoman in a Boston stationery store told me when I looked at a Quo Vadis. I bought one anyway.) Quo Vadis planners have always been well made, with superior paper sewn in signatures and flexible but sturdy covers. So it's not surprising that these Habana notebooks are beautifully designed and made (in the U.S.). Their soft, leather-like, scuff-resistant covers (black, orange, red) are a wonder. (Any further description will have to sound like adspeak: buttery, rich, sumptuous.) The Habana's paper is by Clairefontaine, what Quo Vadis confidently calls "the best paper in the world for writing." Writing on Clairefontaine with a fountain pen is a pleasure: the paper takes ink without feathering or bleeding through. The Habana stays flat when open, so that one can write and ponder and ponder and write. The elastic band that keeps the notebook closed leaves no bumps beneath the back cover — a very nice trick. And there's a secret compartment — well, an envelope — on the inside back cover, to hold a spare bill, receipts, tickets, and a sentimental paper item or two. My review notebooks are without placemarking ribbons, though online descriptions of the Habana mention a ribbon.

Anyone who cares enough about notebooks to be reading this post is likely wondering how the Habana compares to the "legendary notebook of Hemingway, Picasso, and Chatwin" (none of whom used the notebooks made by Moleskine Srl). The Habana is not a Moleskine knockoff. The notebooks differ in size from Moleskines; the covers extend beyond the paper's edges; and there's that unmistakable Quo Vadis insignia (front cover, bottom right). Anyone who buys a notebook for its mythology ("Here I am, in a café, just like Hemingway") will be disappointed. (Imagine buying a typewriter to be like Kerouac, or a pencil to be like Nabokov!) But anyone who regards a notebook as a handy tool of thought will be delighted by the Habana. It's built for thinking and writing.