Monday, July 31, 2023

The Secret History of Gun Rights: How Lawmakers Armed the N.R.A.


The Secret History of Gun Rights: How Lawmakers Armed the N.R.A. (NYT)
Image: Mark Harris
[ed. My admiration for Representative John Dingell (Michigan) just suffered a severe hit. You can be right about a lot of things but blind to others. See his Wikipedia entry for a full accounting of his many accomplishments:]

"During his time in Congress in addition to protecting the automobile industry important to his district, Dingell was instrumental in passage of the Medicare Act, the Water Quality Act of 1965, Clean Water Act of 1972, the Endangered Species Act of 1973, the Clean Air Act of 1990, and the Affordable Care Act, among others. He was most proud of his work on the Civil Rights Act of 1964." (Wikipedia)

The Lunar Codex


A Time Capsule of Human Creativity, Stored in the Sky (NYT)

The Lunar Codex, an archive of contemporary art, poetry and other cultural artifacts of life on Earth, is headed to the moon.

Later this year, the Lunar Codex — a vast multimedia archive telling a story of the world’s people through creative arts — will start heading for permanent installation on the moon aboard a series of unmanned rockets.

The Lunar Codex is a digitized (or miniaturized) collection of contemporary art, poetry, magazines, music, film, podcasts and books by 30,000 artists, writers, musicians and filmmakers in 157 countries. It’s the brainchild of Samuel Peralta, a semiretired physicist and author in Canada with a love of the arts and sciences. (...)

“This is the largest, most global project to launch cultural works into space,” Peralta said in an interview. “There isn’t anything like this anywhere.” (...)

It’s divided into four time capsules, with its material copied onto digital memory cards or inscribed into nickel-based NanoFiche, a lightweight analog storage media that can hold 150,000 laser-etched microscopic pages of text or photos on one 8.5-by-11-inch sheet. The concept is “like the Golden Record,” Peralta said, referring to NASA’s own cultural time capsule of audio and images stored on a metal disc and sent into space aboard the Voyager probes in 1977. “Gold would be incredibly heavy. Nickel wafers are much, much lighter.”

by J. D. Biersdorfer, NY Times | Read more:
Image: “New Moon,” a 1980 color serigraph by the Canadian artist Alex Colville

Breaking Bad AI

@AnthropicAI's "Claude" is susceptible to the same base64 jailbreak as chatGPT. I'm very unclear why this works at all

[ed. Birthing pains: Code prompts (instead of text) circumvent AI safety features. See also: Anthropic launches Claude, a chatbot to rival OpenAI’s ChatGPT ; and: OpenAI makes GPT-4 generally available (TC):]

"Since the reveal of GPT-4 in March, the generative AI competition has grown fiercer. Recently, Anthropic expanded the context window for Claude — its flagship text-generating AI model, still in preview — from 9,000 tokens to 100,000 tokens. (Context window refers to the text the model considers before generating additional text, while tokens represent raw text — e.g. the word “fantastic” would be split into the tokens “fan,” “tas” and “tic.”)

GPT-4 held the previous crown in terms of context window, weighing in at 32,000 tokens on the high end. Generally speaking, models with small context windows tend to “forget” the content of even very recent conversations, leading them to veer off topic." (...)

“The challenge is making models that both never hallucinate but are still useful — you can get into a tough situation where the model figures a good way to never lie is to never say anything at all, so there’s a tradeoff there that we’re working on,” the Anthropic spokesperson said. “We’ve also made progress on reducing hallucinations, but there is more to do.” (...)

No doubt, Anthropic is feeling some sort of pressure from investors to recoup the hundreds of millions of dollars that’ve been put toward its AI tech. (...)

Most recently, Google pledged $300 million in Anthropic for a 10% stake in the startup. Under the terms of the deal, which was first reported by the Financial Times, Anthropic agreed to make Google Cloud its “preferred cloud provider” with the companies “co-develop[ing] AI computing systems.”

Sunday, July 30, 2023

All About Decaffeinated Coffee (And Tea)

More than 90% of American coffee drinkers choose caffeinated brews, but decaf is a great option for those who want the taste and social connections of drinking coffee without the energy boost of caffeine. Luckily, a serendipitous accident in 1905 swamped a shipment of coffee beans with seawater, washing the caffeine out and prompting the development of modern decaffeination methods.

How is coffee decaffeinated?

Like regular coffee, decaf coffee begins as green, unroasted beans. The hard beans are warmed and soaked in liquid to dissolve and remove the caffeine in one of four ways: using water alone, using a mixture of water and solvents (most commonly methylene chloride or ethyl acetate) applied either directly or indirectly, or using water and “supercritical carbon dioxide.”

All four methods are safe, and once the caffeine is removed (well, at least 97% of it), the beans are washed, steamed, and roasted at temperatures that evaporate all the liquids used in decaffeination.

How much caffeine is in decaf coffee?


Decaffeination removes about 97% or more of the caffeine in coffee beans. A typical cup of decaf coffee has about 2 mg of caffeine, compared to a typical cup of regular coffee, which has about 95 mg of caffeine.

Is decaf coffee bad for you?

Like all coffee, decaffeinated coffee is safe for consumption and can be part of a healthy diet.

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration has set a rigorous standard to ensure that any minute traces of solvents used to decaffeinate coffee are safe. FDA measures these traces in “parts per million.” After decaffeination, coffee can contain no more than 10 parts per million of, for example, methylene chloride -- that’s one one-thousandth of a percent. (...)

How much caffeine is too much?

Regulators and health authorities in the United States and around the world have concluded moderate caffeine intake can be part of healthy diets for most adults -- generally up to 400mg per day, or about 4-5 cups of coffee. Guidelines may vary for people with certain medical conditions.

by National C0ffee Association |  Read more:
Image: uncredited via:
[ed. See also: How Is Coffee Decaffeinated? (Britannica). And, since my late night tea prompted this inquiry: How Is Tea Decaffeinated? (Premium Teas). From the history link above: (Live Science):]

"The first commercially successful decaffeination method was invented around 1905, by German coffee merchant Ludwig Roselius. According to Atlas Obscura, one bit of lore about the origins of decaf claims that Roselius received a shipment of coffee beans that was soaked in seawater. Instead of tossing the beans, Roselius decided to process and test them. He found that the coffee had been stripped of its caffeine content but still basically tasted like coffee, albeit a bit salty.

Roselius then figured out he could use benzene — a chemical that, at the time, was also used in paint strippers and aftershave — as a solvent to remove caffeine from coffee beans. His company, Kaffee HAG, was the first to produce instant decaf coffee. The coffee was sold as "Sanka" in the United States by General Foods, and was a mid-20th-century staple — and occasional punchline. (In the 1982 movie "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," a biology teacher pleads with his students, "I'm a little slow today. I just switched to Sanka, so have a heart.")

Benzene is no longer used for decaffeinating coffee because it's a known carcinogen. Instead, companies that use chemical solvents have switched to other substances, predominantly ethyl acetate and methylene chloride, although there has been some controversy about the latter because exposure to high amounts of the substance can be toxic and lead to damage of the central nervous system. The FDA has ruled that miniscule trace amounts of methylene chloride in decaf coffee are not cause for concern, and residues of more than 0.001% are prohibited.

Another method for decaffeinating coffee also originated, somewhat accidentally, in Germany. Chemist Kurt Zosel was working with supercritical carbon dioxide at the Max Planck Institute for Coal Research in Ruhr. Zosel discovered that when the gas is heated and put under a lot of pressure, it enters a supercritical state that can be useful for separating different chemical substances — including separating caffeine from coffee when it's pumped through the beans.

The chemist patented his decaffeination method in 1970; it's still widely used today. According to NPR, crude caffeine can be salvaged during the supercritical carbon dioxide decaffeination process, which is used in sodas, energy drinks and other products.

Yet another method, dubbed the Swiss Water Process, was first used commercially in the 1970s. Kastle explained that first, a batch of green coffee beans is soaked in water. That water becomes saturated with all the soluble components found in coffee — including chlorogenic acid, amino acids and sucrose; the caffeine is then filtered out with carbon. This uncaffeinated liquid, called green coffee extract, is then added to columns of new, rehydrated, green coffee beans that still have their caffeine. Kastle said that caffeine migrates from the beans to the green coffee extract as the beans and liquid seek equilibrium, until the beans are almost entirely caffeine-free."

Netflix’s $900K AI Jobs

The discovery of an AI product manager role at Netflix with a pay ceiling of $900,000 sent critics of the company and entertainment industry wild yesterday. That isn’t the only such listing, and likely not even the most lucrative. No one should be surprised that one of the biggest tech companies in the world is paying top dollar for machine learning talent — but that doesn’t mean striking writers and actors shouldn’t call out the hypocrisy on display.

So what are these jobs? In addition to the overall product manager one, there are five other roles with obvious machine learning responsibilities, and likely more if you were to scour the requirements and duties of others.

An engineering manager in member satisfaction ML — their recommendation engine, probably — could earn as much as $849,000, but the floor for the “market range” is $449,000. That’s where the conversation starts! An L6 research scientist in ML could earn $390,000 to $900,000, and the technical director of their ML R&D tech lab would make $450,000-$650,000. There are some L5 software engineer and research scientist positions open for a more modest $100,000-$700,000.

One comparison that was quickly made is to the average SAG member, who earns less than $30,000 from acting per year. Superficially, Netflix paying half a million to its AI researchers so that they can obsolete the actors and writers altogether is the kind of Evil Corp move we have all come to expect. But that’s not quite what’s happening here.

While I have no doubt that Netflix is screwing over its talent in numerous ways, just like every other big studio, streaming platform and production company, it’s important for those on the side of labor to ensure complaints have a sound basis — or they’ll be dismissed from the negotiating table. (...)

As a tech company, Netflix is, like every other company on Earth, exploring the capabilities of AI. As you may have guessed from the billions of dollars being invested in this sector, it’s full of promise in a lot of ways that aren’t actually connected to the controversial generative models for art, voice and writing, which for the most part have yet to demonstrate real value.

No doubt they are exploring those things too, but most companies remain extremely skeptical of generative AI for a lot of reasons. If you read the actual job descriptions, you’ll see that none actually pertain to content creation:
-You will lead requirements, design, and implementation of Metaflow product improvements…

-You will lead a team of experts in these techniques to understand how members experience titles, and how that changes their long-term assessment of their satisfaction with the Netflix service.

-…incubate and prototype concepts with the intent to eventually build a complete team to ship something new that could change the games industry and reach player audiences in new ways, as well as influencing adoption of AI technologies and tooling that are likely to level up our practices.

-…we are venturing further into exciting new innovations in personalization, discovery, experimentation, backend operations, and more, all driven by research at the frontiers of ML

-…Collect feedback and understand user needs from ML/AI practitioners and application engineers across Netflix, deriving product requirements and sizing their importance to then prioritize areas of investment. 
-We are looking for an Applied Machine Learning Scientist to develop algorithms that power high quality localization at scale…
Sure, the last one is likely generative dubbing, or perhaps improved subtitle translation. And this doesn’t mean Netflix isn’t working on generative stuff too. But these are the jobs we’re actually seeing advertised, and most are generic “we want to see what we can do with AI to make stuff better and more efficient.”

AI applies across countless domains, as we chronicle in our regular roundup of research. A couple weeks ago it helped find new Nasca lines! But it’s also used in image processing, noise reduction, motion capture, network traffic flow and data center power monitoring, all of which are relevant to a company like Netflix. Any company of this size that is not investing hundreds of millions in AI research is going to be left behind. If Disney or Max develops a compression algorithm that halves the bandwidth needed for good 4K video, or cracks the recommendation code, that’s a huge advantage.

So, why am I out here defending a giant corporation that clearly should be paying its writers and actors more?

Because if the unions and their supporters are going to take Netflix to task, as they should given the deplorable state of residuals and IP ownership, they can’t base their outrage on industry standard practices that are necessary for a tech company to succeed in the current era.

We don’t have to like that AI researchers are being paid half a million while an actress from a hit show a couple years back gets a check for $35. But this portion of Netflix’s inequity is, honestly, out of their control. They’re doing what is required of them there. Ask around: Anyone with serious experience in machine learning and running an outfit is among the most sought-after people in the world right now. Their salaries are grossly inflated, yes — they’re the A-listers of tech right now, and this is their moment. (...)

By all means let’s get up in arms about inequity — but if this anger is to take effect, it needs to be grounded in reality and targeted properly. Hiring an AI researcher for an extravagant salary to refine their recommendation engine isn’t the problem on its own — it’s the hypocrisy demonstrated by Netflix (and every other company doing this, probably all of them) showing that it is willing to pay some people what they’re worth, and other people as little as they can get away with. 

by Devin Coldewey, TechCrunch | Read more:
Image: Frederic J. Brown/AFP/Getty Images
[ed. Nice work if you can get it. Job responsibilities evolve over time. See also: The week in AI: Generative AI spams up the web (TC).]

Saturday, July 29, 2023

Three Body Problem (Chinese Version)

[ed. Tencent Video has released an excellent Chinese serialized/subtitled version of the Three Body Problem (30 episodes), a science fiction trilogy by Cixin Liu. Considered by many to be one of the best sci-fi novels published in recent history, on par with the best works of Arthur C. Clarke, Isaac Asimov, Stanislaw Lem and others (see here, here and here). A westernized version is being developed by Netflix. See also: This short summary of Three Body Problem themes (YouTube).]

Friday, July 28, 2023

Sinead O'Connor (December, 1966 - July, 2023)

"Daddy I'm Fine"

I was born in Dublin town
Where there was not too much going on down
For girls whose only hope
Was not to find a man who could piss in a pot
So early I heard my first guitar
And I knew I wanted to be a big star
And I told my poor worried father
Said I ain't gonna go to school no more

'Cause see I wanna look cool and I wanna look good
With my hair slicked back and my black leather boots
Wanna stand up tall with my boobs upright
And feel real hot when the makeup's nice
I get sexy underneath the lights
Like I wanna fuck every man in sight
Baby come home with me tonight
Make you feel good make you feel all right

I'm going away to London
I got myself a big fat plan
I'm gonna be a singer in a rock 'n' roll band
I'm gonna change everything I can 

Sorry to be disappointing
Wasn't born for no marrying
Wanna make my own living singing
Strong independent pagan woman singing

And I feel real cool and I feel real good
Got my hair shaved off and my black thigh boots
I stand up tall with my pride upright
I feel real hot when the makeup's nice
I get sexy underneath them lights
Like I wanna fuck every man in sight
Baby come home with me tonight
Make you feel good make you feel all right

I'm glad I came here to London
I've myself some big fat fun
And I have even made some mon'
I got the most angelic son
My baby daughter is golden
And I do what I like for fun
And I'm happy in my prime
Daddy I'm fine
Daddy I'm fine
Daddy I'm fine
Daddy I'm fine
Daddy I'm fine
Daddy I love you
[lyrics via:]
[ed. See also: The Unapologetic Brilliance of Sinéad O’Connor (New Yorker).]

Thursday, July 27, 2023

The Number of Songs in the World Doubled Yesterday

The number of songs in the world doubled yesterday. Did you even notice?

An artificial intelligence company in Delaware boasted, in a press release, that it had created 100 million new songs. That’s roughly equivalent to the entire catalog of music available on Spotify.

It took thousands of years of human creativity to make the first 100 million songs. But an AI bot matched that effort in a flash.

The company notes that this adds up to 4.8 million hours of creativity.

We are truly living in a golden age of new music. You now have access to a potential playlist for your lifetime . . . and the next thirty generations.

And we’re only at the start of the AI revolution.

The goal here is infinity. Until this week, I didn’t think infinity could be an artistic goal—or even a guideline—but that’s precisely the aim of Mubert (the name of the company behind this breakthrough).

The company’s CEO—also named Mubert—declared:
“Mubert allows for the generation of an unlimited amount of music of any duration and any genre.”
At first, I thought this might be a prank. Even that name—Mubert—sounds like a parody of Mozart. I was actually hoping that the CEO’s full name was Wolfgang Amadeus Mubert.

No dice. The boss at this startup is Alex Mubert, a software engineer living in Dubai (according to his LinkedIn profile). That same source tells me that he once studied bass at Jazz College.

I don’t know where Jazz College is, but they ought to be celebrating there today. An alum has created half the music in human history.

It’s possible that years from now, the history of music will be divided into two phases: Before Mubert and After Mubert. We are blessed to live at the dawn of this new era of musical abundance.

Mubert isn’t alone—many others are chasing after this same Nirvana of never-ending playlists. A few weeks ago, another AI company called Boomy (who comes up with these names?) announced that it had created more than 14 million AI tracks.

Spotify responded by pulling these songs from its platform, but Spotify also seems to have a love affair with AI music, especially if it potentially enriches the company at the expense of human composers.

But Mubert has one huge advantage.

The company trained its AI on music obtained legally for that purpose. This means Mubert may be invincible to the copyright litigation that threatens to kill other areas of AI creation.

That’s a huge competitive advantage in the music business right now, where lawyers run the show with more bravado than Barnum, Bailey and the Ringling Brothers put together. You could even put Mubert on the stand in a trial, and he or it (depending on which Mubert you swear in) has an airtight alibi for any plagiarism claim. The AI never heard a song without legal permission.

Not even Taylor Swift or Ed Sheeran possess that super power. (...)

Something broke on the levee, and AI songs are pouring out in torrents, threatening to wash away everything else.

Now, I can’t claim to have listened to all 100 million of these songs. But I’ve heard enough AI music to realize how lousy it is.

And if the first 100 million AI songs suck, my enthusiasm for the next 100 million is nil. That’s how things work in creative fields—people judge you by your track record.

Back in February, I warned of a mind-numbing oversupply of content in my “State of the Culture 2023” address. As many of you know, I hate the word content, when it’s used to describe human creativity. But it is the perfect term to describe the output of the AI sausage factories that are making inroads everywhere in the culture.

We don’t need more supply in music, or other creative fields. The real shortage is demand. And the ultimate shortage is genius, which usually goes under names like Mozart and Beethoven, not Mobert and Boomy.

Somebody needs to remind Mubert the AI Bot (or Mubert the CEO) that in the music business you get an audition, and you play your best stuff first. If the first couple songs don’t sound good, you don’t get another chance.

So here’s my challenge to Mubert. Quit bragging about your 100 million tracks. Just pick the best two or three, and let us listen to them—and make up our minds.

I probably sound flippant here.

And, it’s true, I have a tendency to laugh at the boastful claims being made for improving the arts with AI technology. There’s something ridiculous about this music—or, to put it more clearly, there’s something ridiculous about the mismatch between the music itself and the claims made for it.

But I really need to emphasize that this is no laughing matter. The larger picture here is ominous:
  1. For the first time in history, the most powerful and wealthy companies are all tech global players with consumer-facing platforms.
  2. Every one of them is now obsessed with AI as a profit-generating opportunity.
  3. The various AI projects they’re pursuing are all different, but they have one thing in common: They involve flooding the culture with torrents of AI garbage—the metrics are all quantitative, not qualitative (because, hey, that’s how they roll).
  4. Quality checks are actually viewed as hindrances. In the mad gold rush mentality of the AI revolution, quality slows things down—so even the most basic safeguards are ditched or ignored.
  5. But genuine creativity operates in the qualitative realm. In that sphere, numbers are meaningless. Mozart’s Requiem or the The White Album or other works of that sort can’t be replaced with 100 million AI tracks—numbers don’t work like that.
  6. The more garbage you dump into our polluted culture, the more obvious this becomes.
If this is correct, it means that we have arrived at a crossroads in music. We have reached a new era, and it is NOT the Era of Mobert. The real defining fact is that the largest richest corporations in the world are now operating as enemies of the music culture.

by Ted Gioia, The Honest Broker |  Read more:
Image: Music-making robot (Wikimedia Commons)

The Curious Personality Changes of Older Age

You’ve probably heard the saying “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” An awful phrase, I know, but it speaks to a common belief about older adulthood: that it’s a time of stagnation. A time when we’ve become so set in our ways that, whether we’re proud of them or not, we’re not likely to budge.

Psychologists used to follow the same line of thinking: After young adulthood, people tend to settle into themselves, and personality, though not immutable, usually becomes stabler as people age. And that’s true—until a certain point. More recent studies suggest that something unexpected happens to many people as they reach and pass their 60s: Their personality starts changing again. 

This trend is probably observed in older populations in part because older adults are more likely to experience brain changes such as cognitive impairment and dementia. But some researchers don’t believe the phenomenon is fully explained by those factors. People’s personality can morph in response to their circumstances, helping them shift priorities, come to terms with loss, and acclimate to a changing life. These developments illuminate what personality really is: not a permanent state but an adaptive way of being. And on a societal level, personality changes might tell us something about the conditions that older adults face.

Psychologists have identified certain major, measurable personality traits called the “Big Five”: agreeableness, conscientiousness, extroversion, openness to experience, and neuroticism. And they can track how those traits increase or decrease in a group over time. To the surprise of many in the field, those kinds of studies are revealing that the strongest personality changes tend to happen before age 30—and after 60. In that phase of later adulthood, people seem to decrease, on average, in openness to experience, conscientiousness, and extroversion—particularly a subcategory of extroversion called “social vitality.” And neuroticism tends to increase, especially closer to the end of one’s life.

We can’t say with certainty what factors are driving these shifts, but a few theories exist. One possibility is that personality is shaped by specific life events that tend to happen in older age: retirement, empty nesting, widowhood. But such milestones, it turns out, aren’t very reliable sources of change; they affect some people deeply and others not at all. Any one event could mean many different things, depending on its context. Jenny Wagner, a psychologist at the University of Hamburg, in Germany, gave me some examples. Losing a partner could be a tremendous loss, but for some it could be a bit of a relief at the same time—say, for someone who’s been caring for their ailing spouse for years. Retirement is the same: Where one person might be jumping from book club to vacation, another might be hobbled by lack of income, forced to move away from friends to a cheaper part of town.

At any age, life events can affect people differently. But in older adulthood particularly, researchers told me, people’s daily realities vary wildly, so factors like health and social support are probably better predictors of personality change. “What you really want to know,” Wiebke Bleidorn, a personality psychologist at the University of Zurich, told me, “is What are people’s lives like?” If someone is no longer strong enough to go to dinner parties every week, they might grow less extroverted; if someone needs to be more careful of physical dangers like falling, it makes sense that they’d grow more neurotic.

The idea that people might change who they are—really change, in a deep and even lasting way—in response to their circumstances might seem surprising. Many of us think of personality not as a set of dials we can modulate strategically but as something more akin to a hand of cards you’ve been dealt. In truth, personality can likely be nudged by our environment and our relationships—our commitments to other people, and their expectations for us—at any age. But before older adulthood, people might commonly be less pressed to change themselves; they can usually change their habits and environments instead. Brent Roberts, a psychology professor at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, told me that “we construct our world to avoid” personality change. But if you can’t take yourself to the grocery store, much less move to a different city, you might need to adapt. Once you lose control over elements of your life, Bleidorn said, you may alter your personality instead.

Granted, old-age personality changes don’t always result from a sense of helplessness or an endlessly shrinking life. Research has shown that when people get older, they commonly recalibrate their goals; though they might be doing less, they tend to prioritize what they find meaningful and really appreciate it. A decline in openness to experience, then, could reflect someone relishing their routine rather than seeking new thrills; a decline in extroversion could indicate that they’re satisfied spending time with the people they already love. That may involve adjusting to what they can’t control, but it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re reacting to a bad life—just a different one. [ed. See article below]

by Faith Hill, The Atlantic |  Read more:
Image: Martin Parr/Magnum
[ed. Sometimes old people drive me nuts, and I'm old myself. One thing for sure: if you had personality quirks before, they'll only get more pronounced later in life. If people do change it's probably more related to love and loss. As one gets older, the people and things you've loved and lost pile up... parents, family, friends, lovers, partners, health, vitality, life experiences. All gone, or fast receding. So 'recalibrating' likely means embracing memories more than future plans. Plus, the arc of your life becomes clearer.]

The Mind Is Willing, So the Body Doesn’t Have Much Choice

Mike Duggan and his hockey buddies were strapping on their gear one recent morning when their banter hopscotched, as it frequently does, to the subject of joint replacement surgeries.

Duggan, 74, the proud owner of an artificial hip, marveled at the sheer number of titanium body parts in the locker room. He gestured toward Mitch Boriskin, who was wiggling into a pair of skates along the opposite wall.

“I don’t think there’s an original part on you,” Duggan said.

Boriskin, 70, smiled. “Two fake knees, a spinal cord stimulator, 25 surgeries,” he began, as if reciting a box score.

“And one lobotomy,” Duggan interjected, as laughter rippled across the room.

All that titanium, at least, was being put to good use. Their team, the Oregon Old Growth, had joined dozens of others from around North America to compete this month at the Snoopy Senior hockey tournament in Santa Rosa, Calif., about 60 miles north of San Francisco.

The tournament has become a summertime ritual for hundreds of recreational players — all of them between 40 and 90 years old — who gather each year at Redwood Empire Ice Arena, where Charles M. Schulz, the creator of the “Peanuts” comic strip and a lifelong hockey fanatic, founded the event in 1975.

By now, everyone knows what to expect: The skating is slow, the wisecracks whiz by fast and the laughter flows as freely as the beer.

“If you like paint drying, you will be riveted,” said Larry Meredith, 82, the captain of the Berkeley Bears, a team in the tournament’s 70-plus division. (...).

“You don’t quit because you get old, you get old because you quit,” said Rich Haskell, 86, a player from New Port Richey, Fla. “A friend of mine died a couple years ago. He played hockey in the morning, died at night. You can’t do it better than that.”

The tournament has the unbent feel of a week-and-a-half long summer camp. Camper vans and R.V.s crowd the arena parking lot, where players drink beer, grill meat and fraternize between games.

The squad names this year — California Antiques, Michigan Oldtimers, Seattle Seniles, and Colorado Fading Stars, to name a few — nodded at players’ advanced age and evolved sense of humor.

“We used to just be the Colorado Stars,” said Rich Maslow, 74, the team’s goalie. “But then we turned 70.”

Maslow and his teammates were scheduled to play that day at 6:30 a.m., the earliest slot, which meant they had to assemble before sunrise.

“We all have to get up at 5:30 to pee anyway, so we might as well play some hockey,” said Craig Kocian, 78, of Arvada, Colo., as they dressed for the game.

Kocian described himself as having “adult onset hockey syndrome.” But many other participants began playing when they were children and let the game weave itself through the decades of their lives. (...)

“It’s part of who I am, and that feeling is really powerful,” Meredith said about playing hockey. “Maybe that’s why I hang on, because it harkens back to going to a rink, smelling those smells that you can only find in an indoor ice rink, those hockey smells.”

Schulz was the same way. He ate breakfast and lunch at the rink, which he had built and opened in 1969. Spending most days grinding away at the drawing board, he saw his Tuesday night games as something of a spiritual salve.

“He used to say, ‘It’s the only thing that gives me pleasure,’ ” said Jean Schulz, his widow.

He played until he died, at the age of 77, in 2000. Many players said they would like to do the same. (...)

After their early morning game, the Fading Stars came off the ice and stripped away their gear. Out came a case of Coors Light. It was 7:40 a.m. Noticing the beer company’s logo on the team’s sweaters, a visitor asked if it was a sponsor.

“The only sponsorship we’re looking for is Viagra,” said Murray Platt, 68, of Denver.

Also grabbing a cold one was Dave McCay, 72, of Denver, who scored four goals in the team’s opening game, sprained an ankle in the second and arrived for the third in a walking boot.

That leg had given him trouble before — he held up a photo showing 12 screws, a steel rod and a plate in it — and his wife had already begun gently questioning his priorities. But slowing down has not crossed his mind.

“I’m convinced this gives you a better quality of life,” McCay said, leaning on a pair of crutches, “even if you have to limp around a little bit.”

by Andrew Keh, NY Times |  Read more:
Images: Bryan Meltz

Wednesday, July 26, 2023

The 21st-Century Shakedown of Restaurants

Tell me if you’ve heard this one: A social media influencer walks into a bar ….

No, wait. This isn’t a joke. This is a 21st-century shakedown.

Here is how it works: An influencer walks into a restaurant to collect an evening’s worth of free food and drink, having promised to create social media content extolling the restaurant’s virtues. The influencer then orders far more than the agreed amount and walks away from the check for the balance or fails to tip or fails to post or all of the above. And the owners are left feeling conned.

The swap of food for eyeballs is nothing new in our digital age; businesses can fail from a lack of exposure. But the entitled disregard — with emboldened influencers making outsize demands but not always fulfilling their end of the bargain — is a more recent phenomenon. They have come to realize that they have all the power, as defined by the number of followers they have on TikTok or YouTube or Instagram. It’s an influence seller’s market, defined by whatever the traffic will bear.

In a business without boundaries, anything goes. Brian Bornemann, the chef and a co-owner of the restaurants Crudo e Nudo and Isla in Santa Monica, Calif., said that while there are reliable influencers, the “lower echelons” see a free meal as a way to build their personal brands. And the most entrepreneurial influencers, whether they have sophisticated skills or merely a prospector’s zeal, offer an ascending roster of fee-based services. Exposure packages can cost upwards of $1,000 for a prescribed number of Instagram stories, posts and a professionally made video, sometimes with performance bonuses tied to views.

Influencer content is lifestyle advertising, selling a quick, aspirational message that has more in common with a fashion ad than with reality. Visit this restaurant, a post implies, and your life will be as much fun as mine. Status is defined by popularity rather than by expertise or by character, and credible, food-savvy comments can get lost in the increasing din.

The opportunists — who give new meaning to the term “grab and go” — aren’t good for restaurants, which are trying to get back on their feet after the pandemic. They aren’t good for the rest of us, either, because they make the already dubious content flooding our feeds even more suspect. The more we rely on influencer posts, the more our critical faculties shrink, because often there’s no depth, no context, no reporting, nothing beyond the surface image of fun, and we can’t tell whom to trust. (...)

Journalists and influencers are not the same species, but we intersect at one point on the graph — we provide information — making it easy to get us mixed up. Welcoming influencers into your dining room can seem easier, at first glance, because they’re looking for good news: All you have to do is feed and water them, and with luck, they go away to post nice photos along with a little copy.

That initial ease comes at a price. Fear and imagination are a potent mix, and wary restaurateurs worry about retaliation if food influencers don’t get what they want: criticism of food that they might have said tasted better if it had been free, complaints about nonexistent bad service or a bottle of wine that the group drained dry before judging it to be off.

Or they can stiff a restaurant. I hear first-tier influencers sharpening their cutlery to defend their honor, but numerous restaurateurs tell me that dealing with the second tier is a constant challenge. (...)

Mr. Bornemann tells influencers he hasn’t worked with to come in on their own dime, once, before he’ll do business. “If they balk,” he said, “they’re bogus.”

Owners can take on the additional job of trying to verify influencer numbers because there are many ways to artificially boost follower counts. If influencers reach out to say they enjoyed a meal at a restaurant and would be happy to return and post in exchange for a freebie, owners can ask for the date of the initial visit to see if there’s a credit card charge on file or check the menu to see if the items the influencers loved were offered on the night in question.

Some restaurants reject all requests below a minimum follower threshold, and some simply refuse to engage. But it takes nerve to opt out.

by Karen Stabiner, NY Times | Read more:
Image: Angela Kirkwood
[ed. Human Yelpers. I hope the term influencer dies soon - people leveraging shallow social media personalities into short-lived, vapid careers. Get a real job - like publicists! - haha (and get off my lawn). See also: Hollywood Strike Leaves Influencers Sidelined and Confused (NYT):]

"Deanna Giulietti is not in the actors’ union, but she turned down $28,000 last week because of its strike.

Ms. Giulietti, a 29-year-old content creator with 1.8 million TikTok followers, had received an offer to promote the new season of Hulu’s hit show “Only Murders in the Building.”

But SAG-AFTRA, as the union is known, recently issued rules stating that any influencer who engages in promotion for one of the Hollywood studios the actors are striking against will be ineligible for membership. (Disney is the majority owner of Hulu.) That gave Ms. Giulietti, who also acts and aspires to one day join the union, reason enough to decline the offer from Influential, a marketing agency working with Hulu.

The union’s rule is part of a variety of aggressive tactics that hit at a pivotal moment for Hollywood labor and shows its desire to assert itself in a new era and with a different, mostly younger wave of creative talent.

“I want to be in these Netflix shows, I want to be in the Hulu shows, but we’re standing by the writers, we’re standing by SAG,” Ms. Giulietti said. “People write me off whenever I say I’m an influencer, and I’m like, ‘No, I really feel I could be making the difference here.’”

That difference comes at a cost. In addition to the Hulu deal, Ms. Giulietti recently declined a $5,000 offer from the app TodayTix to promote the Searchlight Pictures movie “Theater Camp.” (Disney also owns Searchlight.) She said she was living at home with her parents in Cheshire, Conn., and putting off renting an apartment in New York City while she saw how the strike — which, along with a writers’ strike, could go on for months — would affect her income."

Tuesday, July 25, 2023


via:

Joakim Allgulander, Surveillance II
via:

The Trillion-Dollar Grift: Inside the Greatest Scam of All Time

The pandemic relief was the biggest bailout in history, and it opened the door to wide-scale fraud the likes of which no one had ever seen — more than three years later, we still don't know how much damage was done

In late March 2020, Haywood Talcove, a CEO at LexisNexis Risk Solutions, was packing up his office, having sent his employees home. He was worrying about laying off his staff, his family’s health, and how he was going to manage two young kids at home during the pandemic.

But when President Trump announced an initial $2.2 trillion relief package to bail out the millions of Americans desperate for cash during the national lockdown, his concern turned away from the coronavirus. An expert in cybersecurity, Talcove has worked in both the private and public sectors, and has been raising the alarm about the government’s exposure to scams for many years. And now, it was like all of his prior analysis and warnings about fraud had just become real.

“I said, ‘Oh, my God, they’re going to allow anyone to get unemployment-insurance benefits,” he recalls. “The systems are vulnerable. All you needed was a name, a date of birth, an address, and a social security number.”
 
Talcove’s a proud Boston guy who moved to Washington, D.C., in 1990, and went on to help an anti-government-waste-style Republican become governor of New Hampshire. He knew the relief plan would be irresistible to scam artists and especially tempting to organized transnational criminal groups. “As soon as the CARES money was announced, we started seeing squawking on the dark web, criminal groups in China, Nigeria, Romania, and Russia — they see our systems are open,” Talcove says. He estimates that “the United States government is the single largest funder of cybersecurity fraud in the world.”

Talcove understood that he had to act. So he called the White House, trying to warn of the threat. No response. Finally, after weeks of trying to get through, one night while he was playing with his kids, he got a call from an unknown number. It was Larry Kudlow, Trump’s director of the National Economic Council. “I’m like, ‘Mr. Kudlow, I really need to warn you that you have to do something about identity verification,’” Talcove recalls, “’or it’s going to be the biggest fraud in the history of our country.’” (Kudlow didn’t respond to requests for comment.)

He says he talked to Kudlow for about 15 minutes but couldn’t get him to budge. “Kudlow’s like, ‘The money has to get out quickly. You can’t have speed and security,’” Talcove says. “But I’m like, ‘That is bullshit. Sir, that’s just not true. Now you’re never going to get the money back.’”

Eventually, he says Kudlow told him to get in touch with the folks in charge of sending out small-business loans and the Pandemic Unemployment Assistance loans. But those guys told him they aren’t seeing any fraud. “I’m like, ‘Dude, you haven’t even given out any money yet! That’s why you’re not seeing it,’” Talcove says. “I’m sending them screenshots of the dark web. I’m explaining exactly how it’s going to go down. And I tell them you are going to have a $200 billion problem on your hands if you do nothing.”

It's history now: On March 27, 2020, during the height of the pandemic, Trump signed the CARES Act, pumping more than $2 trillion into the U.S. economy. The scale of the crisis was beyond anything we had ever seen, and so was the help. The money flowed like an open spigot and saved the livelihoods of millions of people. But Talcove was right. While many breathed sighs of relief, others saw the crisis as an opportunity — a chance to steal millions.

The list of various CARES Act schemes is endless and astounding: the couple who scammed some $20 million off unemployment insurance while living as high rollers in Los Angeles; the Chicago man under indictment for selling bunk Covid tests and allegedly raking in $83 million (he has declared his innocence); the Florida minister who the feds allege faked the signature of his aging accountant, suffering from dementia, to steal $8 million in PPP loans (in a twist, the pastor has been locked in a legal battle to determine whether he’s psychologically fit to stand trial). One particularly loathsome and effective plot: offering fake meals to underprivileged children in Minnesota to reel in a whopping sum of $250 million. Noted serial liar George Santos allegedly got in on the act: He was charged with receiving unemployment benefits while he had a six-figure job in Florida. (Santos has pleaded not guilty.) Other examples are admittedly funny: A guy named John Doe got unemployment money, as did someone named Mr. Poopy Pants, and so did a person going by the name of Diane Feinstein, presumably not the senator from California.

By the government’s own accounting, we potentially dished out some $16.2 billion to folks with “suspicious” emails; $267 million was sent to the identities matching current federal prisoners, some on death row; another nearly $29 billion to people living in multiple states; we even sent out more than $139 million to dead people. California alone accounts for a whopping $20 billion in pandemic unemployment-insurance fraud.

Factoring in President Biden’s and Trump’s relief efforts, the U.S. released more than $5 trillion into the economy — the biggest bailout in history. Department of Justice Inspector General Michael Horowitz told congress that more than a $100 billion in Covid aid money may have ended up misappropriated, but many experts and members of law enforcement think the number is much higher. The AP estimates $280 billion went to fraudsters and another $123 billion was misappropriated, some 10 percent of the relief money. For his part, Talcove estimates the actual losses blow past the tallies being thrown around. “The real number is much higher. I think the government lost a trillion dollars due to fraud in the pandemic,” he says. “One trillion.

Talcove’s number is shocking and a higher estimate than many others. There could be instances of suspected fraud that were innocent mistakes. But when I asked Biden administration officials what the number might be, they admit that they “don’t know — the actual determination comes much later.” The DOJ’s Horowitz told the AP much the same thing, saying the official accounting is “at least a couple of years away.” Whatever the actual number is, the losses will be staggering.

It must be said that this should not be a red-versus-blue blame game; given the unprecedented nature of the crisis, some feel like the Trump administration acted correctly in releasing the money as fast as possible. “My liberal friends get mad at me for saying this, but the Trump administration handled pandemic unemployment as well as can be expected,” says Michele Evermore, former deputy director for Policy in the Office of Unemployment Insurance Modernization, which handles unemployment insurance. “The problem was so dire and so vast, and people needed help immediately. There was really no choice.”

Nonetheless, debates will continue for years to come over how the money was doled out — speed versus security. The problem was so large that millions of people were at risk; the necessity couldn’t have been clearer. But the cost? One trillion dollars possibly lost to crooks, many of them our fellow citizens gouging the government during a crisis. Thousands of potential victims, not to mention all of the folks who desperately needed the money and couldn’t get it. Thousands of criminals rewarded, many totally unpunished. Now, partisan gridlock and finger-pointing in Congress over the pandemic-era bailouts may halt any legislation and leaves the outcome of reform efforts less-than-certain. And after months reporting on the problem, speaking with the Secret Service agents hunting the fraudsters, victims saddled with debts they never incurred, and an afternoon spent with a scam artist, one can’t help but have serious concerns that the next time a crisis comes around, we sure as hell might get fooled again.

One law enforcement agency takes the lead when it comes to protecting the U.S. government from fraudsters: the Secret Service. Jason Kane, a Secret Service veteran of more than 20 years, was stationed in New York during those early-pandemic months and knew immediately that a wave of work was heading his agency’s way. “Any time there’s a crisis — Hurricane Katrina, the BP oil spill — people take advantage. It’s human nature,” Kane says. “Today we have initiated more than 3,000 criminal cases from the pandemic. We are still trying to seize back those assets but most of the money is likely gone.”

by Sean Woods, Rolling Stone |  Read more:
Image: Haywood Talcove/uncredited

Pros and Cons of Fentanyl Addiction Treatment Methods

There was a time, not long ago, when doctors had national protocols for using a leading opioid treatment drug.

Heroin was the opioid king then, and it was fairly smooth to transition patients onto the medication buprenorphine, usually given as Suboxone, which reduces cravings for illicit opioids. Far trickier has been starting the medication with patients using fentanyl, a drug up to 50 times as powerful as heroin that’s taken over the opioid market in the last several years.

Fentanyl’s unique properties can send those starting buprenorphine into an agonizing state of sudden, or “precipitous,” withdrawal, leaving providers scrambling to devise new approaches. But no universally adopted treatment protocols have taken hold so far.

“It’s just kind of word-of-mouth and what’s happening in your local community,” said Dr. Nate Kittle, who oversees addiction care across HealthPoint, a nonprofit running primary and urgent care clinics throughout King County. “We’re still learning the best ways to do this.”

Doctors are trying a variety of methods:

Microdosing (...)

Macrodosing (...)

Long-acting medications

Over the last year, Duncan has been using Sublocade, an injected medication that continuously releases buprenorphine for a month.

“It has been by far the most effective treatment I’ve seen for people who are using fentanyl,” he said.

The big advantage, he and others say, is that Sublocade, which forms a depot of medication under one’s skin, can only be surgically removed. So people are more or less committed for a month.

Another bonus is people don’t have to fixate on taking their next dose of medication, which can feel eerily similar to feeding an addiction, said Gather care navigator Brooke Reder. Sublocade frees their mind of old habits, she said.

The manufacturer’s instructions call for people to be on the short-acting form of buprenorphine for seven days before starting Sublocade, in part to make sure they can tolerate the medication.

“Everyone’s kind of quickly realized that you don’t really need to be on it for seven days,” Duncan said. Maybe just one day or less.

Duncan, who’s tracking patient experiences to share with the medical community, might even skip giving an advance dose of buprenorphine if someone has previously taken it without experiencing an allergic reaction.

Likewise, doctors are experimenting with how long to ask patients to abstain from fentanyl before starting on Sublocade. It’s tricky because buprenorphine activates the brain’s opioid receptors at only a 60% level. If fentanyl remains in the system, activating receptors at a higher level, the medication could make them feel worse, not better.

Duncan may ask patients to abstain for about 24 hours, “but if that’s too much, I’ll say, ‘OK. What can you tolerate?’ If it’s six hours, ‘OK, then, start there.'”

In May, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration approved another long-acting, injected medication, called Brixadi, which has two versions, one releasing buprenorphine for a week, the other a month.

Adding ketamine to the mix

Some physicians are trying to ease the transition to buprenorphine by using tiny doses of ketamine, an anesthetic sometimes used recreationally because of its hallucinogenic effects.

Dr. Lucinda Grande, a physician at Lacey-based Pioneer Family Practice, had for years prescribed ketamine for chronic pain and depression when she saw research suggesting the drug holds promise for alleviating intense withdrawal symptoms.

Over the past year, she started using the method with addicted patients, refining her approach. “It definitely helps everybody to some degree,” she said, adding one patient smiled through the process, with no withdrawal symptoms at all. “I’m really ecstatic.”

Accessing and using ketamine adds a complicating factor, though. “It’s too early to know if it will have widespread utility,” Kittle said.

by Nina Shapiro, Seattle Times |  Read more:
Image: Daniel Kim/The Seattle Times
[ed. See also: Is WA’s health ‘hub’ model the 'secret sauce’ in treating fentanyl addiction? (Seattle Times).]

Monday, July 24, 2023

The NFL’s Running Back Market Has Bottomed Out

It’s not often that a star athlete says he’s so frustrated with his sport that maybe his entire job shouldn’t exist. But that’s where the NFL found itself when Tennessee Titans running back Derrick Henry, seemingly so dismayed by the news that the league’s three franchise-tagged running backs—Saquon Barkley, Josh Jacobs, and Tony Pollard—all failed to get long-term contracts before Monday’s deadline, tweeted his frustrations about running back value.

“At this point, just take the RB position out the game then,” Henry wrote, responding to a tweet from Matt Miller, an ESPN draft analyst who detailed a draft-and-replace process that seems to be underway across the NFL. “The ones that want to be great & work as hard as they can to give their all to an organization, just seems like it don’t even matter. I’m with every RB that’s fighting to get what they deserve.”

Colts running back Jonathan Taylor, who led the NFL in rushing in 2021 and is now entering the last year of his rookie contract, also chimed in. (...)

And so did the Chargers’ Austin Ekeler, who was so unhappy with his contract that he reportedly requested a trade earlier this year. “They act,” Ekeler tweeted, “like we are discardable widgets.” (...)

The running back market has been crashing for years. When it bottomed out on Monday, you could sense players finally beginning to grieve. While it’s noble for Henry to say he will fight for what running backs “deserve,” it’s also sad to think about how unwinnable that fight will be. Whether these individual players are deserving has nothing to do with it.

This has been a brutal year for the position. This offseason, Dallas cut star running back Ezekiel Elliott (age: 27). The Vikings did the same with Dalvin Cook (27), Tampa Bay released Leonard Fournette (28), and the Browns declined to re-sign Kareem Hunt (27). Cincinnati’s Joe Mixon (26) took a significant pay cut to avoid joining them in the free agent pool. Green Bay’s Aaron Jones (28) also took a $5 million pay reduction. The Titans reportedly made Henry (an elderly 29) available for trade in the spring, but had no takers for a player who had more than 1,900 yards from scrimmage last year. And there was no trade market for Ekeler (28) despite having a dozen more touchdowns than any skill position player in the NFL over the last two seasons. Ekeler stayed in L.A. and settled for some extra contract incentives. (...)

Assuming they sign the franchise tag and show up to training camp next week, Barkley, and Jacobs will be paid the same fixed, non-negotiable salary of $10.1 million each for the season. That’s a lot of money to most people. But consider that a wide receiver making $10 million wouldn’t even rank among the top 25 players at the position in 2023. In the NBA, a player making $10 million per year wouldn’t even be among the top 150 in the entire league. (...)

This positional devaluation has been brewing since 2011, when the NFL and the NFL Players Association agreed to essentially delay massive contracts for first-round picks until their fourth, fifth or even sixth year in the league. But by the time running backs have been in the league that long, they are often already declining. When wide receivers, quarterbacks, and defensive ends are turning 26, they’re hitting life-altering paydays as they approach their primes. NFL running backs turning 26 get treated like Leonardo DiCaprio’s girlfriends.

As running backs fell through the cracks of a new financial model, a running back’s job, in and of itself, also became less important than ever. Passing supplanted running as the dominant football strategy because coaches have realized the average pass goes 7 yards and the average run goes a little over 4. Not only had the job of the running back been devalued, but it’s also been split among players. Most teams figure they can put together a functional running game by committee, giving 20 percent of the money to a few guys who can replace 90 percent of the production.

by Danny Heifetz, The Ringer | Read more:
Image: Getty Images/Ringer 


Ron Lawson 
Born (1960) Scottish artist

via:

How to Spot an AI Cheater

"Labyrinthian mazes". I don't know what exactly struck me about these two words, but they caused me to pause for a moment. As I read on, however, my alarm bells started to ring. I was judging a science-writing competition for 14-16 year-olds, but in this particular essay, there was a sophistication in the language that seemed unlikely from a teenager.

I ran the essay through AI detection software. Within seconds, Copyleaks displayed the result on my screen and it was deeply disappointing: 95.9% of the text was likely AI-generated. I needed to be sure, so I ran it through another tool: Sapling, which identified 96.1% non-human text. ZeroGPT confirmed the first two, but was slightly lower in its scoring: 89% AI. So then I ran it through yet another software called Winston AI. It left no doubt: 1% human. Four separate AI detection softwares all had one clear message: this is an AI cheater. (...)

So, how might we spot the AI cheaters? Could there be cues and tells? Fortunately, new tools are emerging. However, as I would soon discover, the problem of AI fakery spans beyond the world of education – and technology alone won't be enough to respond to this change.

In the case of student cheating, the reassuring news is that teachers and educators already have existing tools and strategies that could help them check essays. For example, Turnitin, a plagiarism prevention software company that is used by educational institutions, released AI writing detection in April. Its CEO Chris Caren told me that the software's false positive rate (when it wrongly identifies human-written text as AI) stands at 1%.

There are also web tools like the ones I used to check my student essay – Copyleaks, Sapling, ZeroGPT and Winston AI. Most are free to use: you simply paste in text on their websites for a result. OpenAI, the creator of ChatGPT, released its own "AI classifier" in January.

How can AI detect another AI? The short answer is pattern recognition. The longer answer is that checkers use unique identifiers that differentiate human writing from computer-generated text. "Perplexity" and "Burstiness" are perhaps the two key metrics in AI text-sleuthing.

by Alex O'Brien, BBC | Read more:
Image: Getty

Sunday, July 23, 2023

Ordinary People By The Millions

A conversation on current US politics with Thomas Frank, author of What’s the Matter with Kansas?; Listen Liberal; and The People, No: A Brief History of Anti-Populism.

SEYMOUR HERSH: How did we get to the political fault line that gave us a Donald Trump? When did it all start?

THOMAS FRANK: I sometimes feel like it’s the story of my life, because it all began shortly after I was born in 1965, during the Vietnam era. Within a few years came the beginning of the culture wars and the eclipsing of the old liberal consensus. It’s important to remember two facts about it all: First, that every single battle in the culture wars has been presented to us over the years as a kind of substitute class war, as an uprising of ordinary people with their humble values, against the highbrow elite.
 
The other fact is that, at the same time the Republicans were perfecting the culture-war formula, the Democrats were announcing that they no longer wanted to be the party of blue-collar workers. They said this more or less openly in the early 1970s. They envisioned a more idealistic, more noble constituency out there in the form of the young people then coming off the college campuses plus the enlightened white-collar elite. In other words, the Democrats were abandoning the old working-class agenda at the same moment that the Nixon Republicans were figuring out how to reach out to those voters.

Put both of those strategies in effect for fifty years with slight evolutionary changes (The New Democrats! The War on Christmas!), drag the nation through various disasters for working people and endless triumphs for the white-collar elite, and you get the politics we have today. (...)

SH: And why is it continuing, despite the constitutional horror of January 6, 2021?

TF: If the question is, why doesn’t the public care more about that dreadful event, I don’t really know the answer. I am amazed that Donald Trump is still standing as a politician after all the injuries he has inflicted on himself and the world. My suspicion is that the public doesn’t care more because they have learned to mistrust the news media and because the media’s constant beating of the January 6 drum sounds a lot like their constant beating of the Russiagate drum before that. It’s the problem of crying wolf, and then what do you do when the actual wolf shows up?

But the larger question—why do the upside-down politics of the last 50 years keep going?—is fairly easy to answer. It keeps going because it works for both sides. The Democrats now inhabit a world where they are moral superstars, people of incredibly exalted goodness. The media is aligned with them like we’ve never seen before, so are the most powerful knowledge industries, so is academia, so is the national security establishment. And so are, increasingly, the affluent and highly educated neighborhoods of this country. The Democrats are now frequently competitive with the Republicans in terms of fundraising, sometimes outraising and outspending the GOP, which is new and intoxicating for them. (...)

SH: Which candidate or president in recent history was most responsible for this turn?

TF: I think Bill Clinton was the pivotal figure of our times. Before he came along, the market-based reforms of Reaganism were controversial; after Clinton, they were accepted consensus wisdom. Clinton was the leader of the group that promised to end the Democrats’ old-style Rooseveltian politics, that hoped to make the Democrats into a party of white-collar winners, and he actually pulled that revolution off. He completed the Reagan agenda in a way the Republicans could not have dreamed of doing—signing trade agreements, deregulating Wall Street, getting the balanced budget, the ’94 crime bill, welfare reform. He almost got Social Security partially privatized, too. A near miss on that one.

He remade our party of the left (such as it is) so that it was no longer really identified with the economic fortunes of working people. Instead it was about highly educated professional-class winners, people whose good fortunes the Clintonized Democratic Party now regarded as a reflection of their merit. Now it was possible for the Democratic Party to reach out to Wall Street, to Silicon Valley, and so on.

Although there were hints of this shift before Clinton, he actually got it done, and his perceived success as president then made it permanent. This was something relatively new for a left party in the industrialized world, and it was quickly adopted by other left parties in other countries, most notably “New Labour” in the UK.

Unfortunately, this strategy has little to offer the people who used to be the Democratic Party’s main constituents except scolding. It merely assumes that they have, as the ’90s saying went, nowhere else to go.

by Seymour Hersh and Thomas Frank, Substack |  Read more:
Image: Joe Raedle/Getty Images.

Saturday, July 22, 2023

Stephen Curry: The Full Circle

There were too many bears roaming the woods behind the house and, with four daughters, far too many Barbies inside. Just before the school year ended in the early 1970s in Grottoes, Virginia, Wardell "Jack" Curry needed a solution, and fast. All he wanted was a way to keep his only son, Dell, occupied by something other than deadly animals or dolls during the long summer days ahead. As it turned out, though, with nothing more than an old utility pole, a fiberglass backboard and some fabricated steel brackets, Jack Curry ended up changing the sport of basketball and producing the ultimate point guard, his grandson Stephen Curry.

Jack's hoop was never much to look at. Its finest feature, by far, was the old reliable street lamp that hovered overhead and dutifully blinked on at dusk, bathing the key in warm yellow light. But this was Jack's plan all along: Only people who truly loved the game and understood the commitment it required would stick past dark on his country court.

The soft wings of the backboard had more give than a fence gate. The thick steel rim offered no absolution; only shots placed perfectly in the middle of the cylinder passed through. The institutional green metal breaker box just behind the hoop gave off a constant static hum that lured a shooter's focus away from the target. And the splintery wooden utility pole wasn't squared to a single landmark -- not the white ranch-style house, not the driveway, not the Blue Ridge mountains to the south or the creek to the north. So every shot required instant, expert recalibration.

Years of toil in the sun and mud honed Dell's fluid, deadly jumper -- a shot that produced a state title, a scholarship to Virginia Tech and a 16-year NBA career, mostly in Charlotte, that ended in 2002. And when Dell and his wife, Sonya, started their own family, their first child, Wardell Stephen Curry II, got more than just his name from Grandpa Jack. Stephen inherited the hoop and the same deep abiding love for the game it evokes. During frequent childhood trips to Grottoes, a sleepy mix of horse farms and trailer parks an hour northwest of Charlottesville, Stephen and his younger brother Seth (who played at Duke) would barely wait for the car to stop rolling before darting around back to start shooting. Their grandma, Juanita, 79, whom everyone calls Duckie, knew that if she wanted a kiss hello she had to position herself between the car and the hoop. (Jack died when Stephen was 2.) This is where Curry's love of the long ball was born, his trying to be the first one in the family to swish it from 60 feet, blind, peeking around the corner from the top kitchen step. "I always felt like the love and the lessons of that hoop got passed down to me," Stephen says. "It's crazy to think about how everything kinda started right there at this house with this one old hoop."

This season in Golden State, the legend grows larger by the minute. Nearly every night since the All-Star Game -- for which Curry was the top vote-getter and where he sank 13 straight shots to win the 3-point contest -- he's been expanding the lore of Jack's hoop as well as the parameters by which we define point guard greatness. Yes, his stats are MVP-worthy: Through March 24, he ranked seventh in points (23.4 per game), sixth in assists (7.9) and third in steals (2.1). Yes, he has the fourth-highest 3-point percentage, 43.6 percent, in NBA history and has led the league in total 3s since 2012, if you're counting. And yes, in six years, he has catapulted Golden State from perennial nonfactor to title favorite. But Curry's evolution this season is about something more profound than shooting, stats or hardware. The point guard groomed by that historic hoop in Grottoes has become the game's future.

Curry is standing at the forefront of a new era of playmaker. For the first time since Magic Johnson took an evolutionary leap for the position, we're witnessing the ultimate embodiment of the point guard. Not a shooter like Steve Nash, a passer like John Stockton, a defender like Gary Payton or a floor general like Isiah Thomas. Someone with the ability to do it all, excelling in each category while elevating everyone around him and then topping it the very next night: basketball's new 6-foot-3, 190-pound unstoppable force. "He's lethal," says Curry's coach, Steve Kerr. "He's mesmerizing," says his teammate Klay Thompson. He's the "best shooter I've ever seen," says his president, Barack Obama.

Oftentimes he's all three at once. During a 106-98 win over the Clippers on March 8, Curry needed all of seven seconds to transform LA's defense from a group of elite athletes to a gaggle of bewildered senior citizens stammering around at the wrong connecting gate. Up by 10 with just under nine minutes left in the third, Curry dribbled past half court near the high left wing and used a pick to split defenders Matt Barnes and Chris Paul. When he re-emerged, 7-1 power forward Spencer Hawes and center DeAndre Jordan had walled off his escape to the basket. Curry had a split second left before the Clippers converged on him like a junkyard car crusher. He stopped on a dime, dribbled backward through his legs to his left hand, then returned the ball behind his back to his right. The move caused Paul and Jordan to lunge awkwardly into the vortex Curry no longer occupied. Curry then spun away from the basket (and what looked like an impending bear hug from an exasperated Hawes) before dribble-lunging, back, 3 feet behind the arc, as if leaping a mud puddle in Jack Curry's gravel driveway.

In the blink of an eye -- well, less, actually -- Curry planted, coiled, elevated and snapped his wrist. Splash. "That could be the greatest move I've ever seen live," blurted stunned ESPN analyst Jeff Van Gundy, who coached against Michael Jordan many times. When his colleagues giggled at the suggestion, though, Van Gundy growled back without hesitation, "No, I'm being serious."

The sequence had everything: court presence, ballhandling, flawless shooting fundamentals, creativity and, above all, major, major cojones. It left Kerr looking like a young Macaulay Culkin on the bench. And across the country, it had Grandma Duckie cheering from her favorite burgundy chair in front of the TV. "Each time Stephen does his thing, we all picture big Jack up in heaven, nudging all the angels, gathering 'em up," says Steph's aunt and Dell's sister, Jackie Curry. "And he's yelling and pointing, 'Look, look down there at what I did! Y'all know I started this, right? Started all this with just that one little hoop, right there.'"

by David Fleming, ESPN |  Read more:
Image: Dylan Coulter