4am for the second night in a row. Tired.

What will happen next? I will keep my fingers crossed And hope for the best

#RecoveryHaiku

3 + 1 ça fait 4 en arithmétique, J'ai appris que ce n'est pas systématique. 1 jour, ma moitié m'a dit que nous ne faisions pas 1, Mais 2, chacun sur son chemin.

3 + 1, eux plus moi, ça ne fait toujours pas 4, Le résultat n'est pas encore exact. Car eux 3 vivent sans moi, 3 + 1 sous le même toit, Mais on ne regarde pas par la même fenêtre. 3 marchent droit devant tandis qu'1 mène une autre quête, Je cherche à comprendre mon destin et d'où je viens. C'est pour ça que je m'entête. L'horizon n'a de cesse de reculer sans fin.

Isolé au sein de mon foyer, à part et peu impliqué, Je voyage à l'intérieur de moi et sans passager. Quand nous 3 + 1 promenons sur la plage, 3 sont ensemble, et 1 marche loin devant. Les années passent, je prends de l'âge, Il faut que je m'occupe de mes 2 enfants. Avec de nouveaux actes, 1 nouveau pacte, 3 + 1 devrait enfin faire 4.

Le mieux serait même qu'il ne fasse qu'1.

oppi gryta smelter smøret

Redesign your room or home.

I can't do this. I really can't do this. For the last couple of months, we have been redesigning our home, changing the angle of the couch, putting the cupboard where the table used to be, hanging pictures on the wall, hanging new pictures on the wall, changing back to the old pictures, but in a different location, moving the baby bed from one room to another, taking stuff down to the basement, taking stuff up from the basement, taking stuff down to the basement again, moving, changing, redesigning everything. We have done more than enough.

Let me rephrase that. My wife has done more than enough.

She's normally the one who wants to redesign our home. Every other month or so, she wants the sofa to move a meter to the left, or turn ninety degrees, and the cupboard to move further away to the window, or further from it. We don't have a large living room, in all just four or five pieces of movable furniture larger than a dog, and so there aren't that many options. The sofa here or there, the kitchen table that way or this way, the cupboard facing east or west. And yet, somehow, she manages to find ways of making our living room new every other month. She normally does more than enough redesigning.

But now, she's pregnant. Very pregnant. (Her plan is to give birth on Friday.) And like all pregnant women, she's nesting: cleaning, tidying, sorting, throwing away — and redesigning rooms.

Her usual pace of one new room other month has been quadrupled: one room every other week. I don't mind finding all the old baby clothes, of course I don't, nor do I mind preparing the baby bed and buying diapers. Of course not. I am also nesting (albeit to a lesser extent); I will also have things ready and done when the baby comes.

It's just the redesigning I can't stand. The sofa is in the corner, it's perfectly well placed there, I like it there, we just had a long discussion about where to put the sofa and we ended up agreeing that the corner was the very best place any sofa could wish for. Two weeks later it has to move across the room so that the cupboard can be there instead? And in another two weeks it has to move back again, the first arrangement was better anyway?

Before I got married, I never moved furniture around at all. I never had a house, but even in my tiny apartments, the bed remained where it was and the angle between the desk and the window remained constant. Redesigning a home is too much hassle for too little change: all the carrying, all the dust (if push comes to shove, I'll use my dust allergy and my asthma as an excuse!), all the planning and discussion about something which in the end hardly matters at all. Nothing changed in my apartments, that is, except my bookshelves: I've always enjoyed moving my books around and organizing them anew — alphabetically or thematically or after size or language. That's the only way of redesigning I have done of my own accord ever.

And now I don't even feel like doing that. Now my books have their place and remain in that place — from left to right: philosophy, psychology, poetry, fiction, popular science, dictionaries, history — and that's the way they'll stay for the foreseeable future.

I once visited an old couple. They had been living in the same house for decades. They had a lot of books, but all the covers seemed to be glued together: after years and years of not being moved, the books had somehow got stuck to each other. It scared me. Imagine being so resistant to change and new ideas that your books never are read, not even touched! Perhaps that's why I like to redesign my bookshelves: your head, your thoughts, your books need fresh air to grow properly.

Now? Now I don't even feel like getting the novels back in alphabetical order. No. I can't do this. I can't redesign my home. Not now.

Just give me a few months. I promise I'll lay all my 1000+ books on the floor and create a completely new system in my bookshelves before next Christmas.

I might even change the angle of the sofa a few degrees once every other month. Maybe.

Unless my wife's got better ideas.

Morning gloom, post-neo-poststructuralistic

This blog post uses powerful imagery to undermine the logocentric masculinity inherent in all deconstructed and neo-deconstructed post-colonial art. This blog post embraces the unavoidable ambiguity in referencing the non-signifying signifyer. This blog post teaches us all that reality as we know it necessarily entails non-reality, even presupposes non-reality, and that this non-reality becomes reality as soon as it is framed as such. This blog post uses any word as long as it sounds good.

I went to a vernissage yesterday. (It took me a while to get out the door, my francophile wife insisted I should pronounce it Vernissage, whereas I said Fernissage, as they do in German — but I got there in the end, silently humming ferni-ferni-fernissage to myself while I locked the bike.) I stayed for four hours. I'm still a bit dizzy.

The fffernissage was for a video art exhibition. It wasn't free champagne and all dark suits, as it was at my only previous fffernissage in Prague, but it was free, and you could at least buy champagne, and there was a big wall where they would project all the ten nominees for some kind of video art award.

The first film showed a young man breaking into tears while trying to describe how he managed to get out of Afghanistan. The film cut to an old woman, probably Afghan as well, sitting on the floor. She didn't say anything. She just sat there, she hardly moved. After a few minutes a sense of restlessness spread in the audience. After a few more moments, it seemed like a tiny smile escaped the old woman's face, her wrinkled face changed almost imperceptibly, her lone tooth seemed to smile as well, at us, at fifty rich, white, safe Danes, who have never been to Afghanistan and in their naivety think that feeling sorry for her, feeling sorry for a moving image of her hardly moving projected on a wall in a museum, would in any way help her.  It made me smile, too.

Then the curator got up and apologized, there's something wrong with the film, the image seems to have frozen...

Clap clap clap.

The second film was this. Images of a forest canopy accompanied by the sound of church bells. The curator said something in his introduction that this showed the juxtaposition of natural time and artificial, i.e. human, time, and did so in a brilliant way. I got the point after ten seconds — after that I felt sad. Imagine locking yourself inside a dark building to watch still pictures of nature! Imagine how much more you can get from actually being out in the woods!

Clap clap clap.

The third film was über-over-exposed images of nature and people swimming in what seemed like a giant hole in the ground. The camera moved slowly over some plants and the people swimming in the background were..., no, they weren't naked after all. Oh well. More over-exposed nature, then.

Clap clap clap.

The fourth film, however, was brilliant. An Iranian woman in the US calls her parents in Iran vie Skype and asks her mother to a poem out loud — her father is supposed to just sit there, while she herself constantly interrupts her mother. Read slower, read louder, more feeling. All the other films were serious in a very somber way, like most art films are. I don't know why. You're supposed to sit there and watch this screen and furrow your brow and everything is very important. This film, however, made us feel good and made us think, it made us watch and yet we always found something more in the picture, some gesture from the mother, some irritation from the father.

Despite the fact that it was all in Persian. Or because?

Clap clap clap.

The fifth film was a picture of a leg, filmed from the perspective of the leg's owner, making two 360 degree turns so that the shadow changed. Yawn.

Clap clap clap.

The sixth film was the only one all members of the jury had on their short list. It was brilliant, but again it had this artistic gloom — I had enough, I went home.

Clap clap clap.

It's a pity art has become annexed by the artsy. It's a pity art has become a commodity on par with gold and diamonds: no painting is worth more than 100 000 000 USD. No painting is worth a tenth of that. It's a pity the art argot has gotten out of hand (it's not even funny to make fun of, like I tried above: it's too extreme). It's a pity if art turns into celebrity hunt: it's a pity most visitors just rush through Louvre to catch a glimpse of La Joconde. It's a pity we think we have to go to galleries to see art. Granted, it was a different experience to see these films in a dark room with fifty other people — but that doesn't mean that seeing the very same film on Vimeo is inferior. It's different, but it's just as much art.

In some sense, it's even better at home: there's no clapping after each film, there's no-one trying to be more artsy or knowledgeable than they are, there's much less pretence. (There will always be, though: it's often difficult to admit even to yourself that you kind of like a Miley Cyrus song.)

It's a pity some people are scares away from art because they're not artsy enough.

How was it, my wife asked when I got back home.

I put my hands together for a spinning leg, a forest canopy and over-exposed leaves, I said.

So you liked it?

I liked the fresh air outside. I liked the raindrops on my bike, the dark sky, the sound of a bike over cobblestone, the slight smell of thaw and spring after a short winter. I liked riding my bike along closed shops and open pubs, listening to the undecipherable guttural sounds from semi-drunken Danes, thinking about how much more difficult it would have been if they spoke Persian, even if they were sober, about how far we are from our families, and yet how we can call them on Skype, how much my parents correct me, or I them, I don't know, I have never though about how much of our speech is corrections and rebukes. I liked locking my bike outside our home and telling myself to say something nice once I got inside.

I liked the cold air and the raindrops on my seat. I liked a mother reading a poem in Persian. I liked an old, silent, Afghan woman smiling at me. It might not have been art enough.

But yes, I liked it. And that's enough.

Imagine this: you walk into a casual dining restaurant for dinner with some friends. The host informs you that there's a short wait for a table – about fifteen or twenty minutes – but they can let you know what the table's ready. They ask for your social security number and without so much as a thought you hand it over. The host scribbles it down on a notepad and says they'll call out your last four when your table is ready.

That sounds insane, right? And yet, that's kind of what a lot of us do regularly with our phone numbers, handing them out willy-nilly at the drop of a hat to anyone who asks. My exaggeration in this case is pretty mild. Not convinced? Don't worry. Not only will I convince you in this blog post, but I'll also show you how to protect yourself and how to do so for free, no less.

How We Got Here

When I was a kid, the idea that your phone number could someday become on par with your SSN seemed outlandish. It's hard for me to pinpoint an exact day or event that solidified this phenomenon, but I personally would attribute it to two greater societal trends: the ubiquity of mobile phones, and the ease of porting numbers. Perhaps I'm dating myself, but I remember a time before everyone and their five-year-old had a mobile phone. Even once phones started to become more widely adopted – and features like SMS and cameras began to trickle out (and SMS costed money back then, too) – transferring your number from one carrier to another remained such a pain that it was often easier to simply get a whole new phone clean and then let all your contacts know the new number. (Excuse me, I feel old and need to go take my nap before I catch reruns of Murder She Wrote.)

Eventually there was a tipping point where smartphones became common and with every carrier competing for customers, porting your number became as easy as telling the sales guy at the phone store that you wanted to transfer everything. I think that's really when phone numbers started to become permanent, static, unique identifiers. I personally had my last phone number for well over a decade before I finally got rid of cell service altogether in favor of the “living on Wi-Fi 24/7” model.

That's When The Tracking Started

The problem with most modern tech company business models is that unchecked human greed will always enshittify. Once people started keeping the same number – because it was free and convenient – it was only a matter of time before companies realized that this could be not just another way to track us, but a very effective one, too. In many parts of the world, getting a SIM card requires handing over identification, but even for those of us who don't need ID, most folks never feel the need to have more than one SIM card – why pay so much for something you rarely use and can only have active one-at-a-time? Compare this to something like email address, which costs nothing and you can easily load several accounts into a single app at once (many people are already used to having – for example – a personal email account and one provided by their employer, or even more than that). What makes phone numbers even better than something like an SSN or driver's license number is the fact that phone numbers aren't considered “PII” (or “personally identifiable information”) and thus are less regulated or scrutinized by lawyers than something like date of birth or SSN.

So now we have a – for all intents and purposes – mostly permanent, legally unregulated unique ID for nearly every citizen of any developed country. What could go wrong?

The Problems

You pretty much can't exist online these days without a phone number (and these days it's nearly impossible to exist offline without some degree of internet involvement). You need one to complete an online purchase, sign up for most mainstream social media platforms, or receive two-factor authentication (2FA) codes (more on that later). But every time you hand over that phone number, you're likely feeding the data machine. Because a company's sole fiduciary duty is to make as much money as possible, many of them “double dip.” Aside from whatever service they might provide you – like online shopping – many sites will have additional revenue streams like selling your data to brokers such as LexisNexis or Axciom. And even if they don't, they probably have ads, which – shocker – are basically just a secret backdoor for data brokers to collect your data. You see, data is sort of a pyramid scheme aimed at funneling all your data to the top where a small handful of companies compile massive dossiers on you, which they in turn sell to other people for a wide range of uses from advertising campaigns to background checks to employment eligibility and more. All of this without your meaningful consent and often completely invisible to you, with virtually no say or control over it.

But wait, there's more! I meet a lot of people who seem to not care if a company has their data, as long as individuals don't (which makes no sense since companies are made up of individuals, but I digress). They seem to think that because a company is hoarding the data, that somehow means it's got at least some level of access control. But that's rarely true, especially in the case of something like a phone number. There's countless “people search” websites – like Spokeo, BeenVerified, and innumerable others – who can return a wealth of information about you with just a single piece of information like a name or phone number. They can return current and former addresses, phone numbers, email addresses, sometimes even family members or political affiliations. And maybe one website has a few details off, but typically a malicious person (like a stalker or harasser) who knows even the basics of what they're doing will check several websites to confirm information or see what overlaps they can find (one site might redact part of your address but another won't, for example).

This is all just the legal, “playing by the rules” stuff, too. This doesn't account for things like data breaches that leak your phone number and websites that abuse API access to let you figure out all the sites someone has an account on using just a single data point such as username, phone number, or email address.

And that's to say nothing of the security aspect of things. Earlier I mentioned how a common 2FA method is having a code texted to you. Well, perhaps you've heard of SIM-swapping, where an attacker convinces your cell carrier (which can be easily determined via those people search sites I mentioned) that they're you, that you have a new phone, and that they need the phone number ported over to the new device. Once the carrier does this, they can receive all your text messages, including 2FA codes for logging in, or nearly anything else that requires them to prove they're you (except for major legal stuff) because – again, I cannot stress this enough – your phone number has evolved into a unique identifier that people just trust. You have control of that phone number, therefore you must be you.

The Way Out

While phone number tracking presents some unique challenges compared to other identifiers like usernames and email (which can be more easily and freely adjusted for), thankfully there a plethora of options.

The first and easiest way to protect your phone number is to simply to stop handing it out when asked. I have made many purchases where they ask for a phone number at checkout, the idea being that they can look up the receipt if I need to return anything, but instead I politely say “no thanks, please print a receipt” will often get met with an indifferent “okay.” Similarly, when going out to eat, telling the host or hostess “It's okay, we'll be right here in the lobby, please just let me know when the table's ready” is often met with the same response (assuming they don't tell you to just download the app and check in right there, but that's another blog post for another day). Many places still offer analog ways of accomplishing the task in question without violating your privacy, all you have to do is politely advocate for yourself.

Some situations however, “require” a phone number. I'm thinking specifically of online services such as e-commerce, who demand a phone number to complete the order despite the fact they will never call you if there's a problem, they'll always email you instead. I prefer to use fake phone numbers for these situations. There's a host of options. The most well known is 867-5309 (which you can often successfully use at any given store that asks for a rewards number), while my personal favorite is (248) 434-5508, which plays Rick Astley's “Never Gonna Give You Up” on a loop. There's plenty of other joke or dead phone numbers you can find online, or you can always pick a real phone number to a business such as a hotel or pizza delivery place. (If you go with a business number, please try to pick a phone number that goes to an automated line – such as tech support or customer service – rather than one that will go straight to a real person. No need to ruin some innocent person's day who's just trying to do their job.)

Now we come to situations where you actually need a functional phone number you can control in your day-to-day life such as for work or keeping in touch with loved ones. In these cases, I would recommend becoming familiar with Voice-over-IP (or “VoIP”). VoIP services are harder to SIM-swap than traditional SIM cards, and because almost none of them require ID they aren't directly tied to your real name the same way a SIM phone number would be (though you should be aware that it can still show up on people search sites alongside your real name through other means). Unfortunately, nearly all VoIP services cater exclusively to the United States (or a handful of other English-speaking countries), and those present in other countries often cost a significant amount, so in some countries your best middle ground may be to use an eSIM instead of a traditional SIM card. eSIMs are becoming increasingly supported in modern phones, and are also harder to swap than traditional SIM cards for a variety of reasons.

One possible low-cost way of using VoIP could be to use a VoIP number for public-facing things (such as work or e-commerce) while reserving your actual SIM number for close friends and family. This would help create some separation between your work and professional lives. Some people opt to use a VoIP number exclusively for 2FA codes, account recovery methods, or sensitive use-cases such as banking because of the enhanced security and their SIM number for everything else. In a perfect world, you would've already convinced all your close friends and family to use an encrypted, privacy-respecting messenger like Signal, Session, or Simplex to chat with you, thus essentially freeing up at least one phone number for use (or least reducing your dependency on your one phone number). There's an infinite number of ways to configure things even with only a single free number, it really all comes down to your needs and threat model.

The free way to get started with VoIP is Google Voice, which offers one free number to users and can forward directly to your phone so you don't need a Google app. However, if you have the funds, there's tons of other options – like MySudo or Hushed – that will offer things like more phone numbers or a Google-free app. There's even services like Firefox Relay or Cloaked that can help mask your phone number, however you should be aware that the functionality of these services is severely limited (for example, you may not be able to make outgoing calls or send SMS messages, only receive them). These are useful services, but only for specific use-cases.

On the topic of 2FA and security, one great way to start protecting yourself from phone-number-based risks is to start migrating your security posture away from phone numbers. Use TOTP instead of 2FA (more on that here), pick an email address instead of a phone number for recovery methods (then protect that email address accordingly), things like that. This will reduce your phone number exposure while also offering superior security. This way, even if you did fall prey to a SIM-swapping attack (for example), the damage would be minimized.

A final tip – which is definitely not free – is to get your phone anonymously where possible. While the US doesn't require an ID for a phone number, the default action for most people is simply to buy an expensive phone on a contract so that you end up paying an extra $100/month for the next two years instead of having to drop $1500 on a brand new iPhone up front. The advantage of buying up front, however, is that you don't have to submit to a credit check or sign a contract or stay locked into a single carrier. You can buy the phone without ever having to hand over identifying information and get service from a much cheaper MVNO (mobile virtual network operator) like Mint or Visible. In the case of Pixel phones, your phone is also unlocked from the start, allowing you to do things like install a privacy-respecting custom operating system. (Do your research on this, I hear a lot of claims that some carriers like Verizon don't allow OEM unlocking no matter what.)

What Have We Accomplished?

None of the advice I've given here actually solves the root issue of “your phone number ending up on a people search website.” However, we have created several helpful layers of protection:

1. Compartmentalization. We've created a boundary between different areas of your life – personal and professional or sensitive and lower-risk, for example. This way people who try to abuse your phone number will find themselves limited in how much damage they can do or unable to find what they're looking for in the first place.
2. Enhanced security. Thanks to the use of tools like VoIP and eSIMs – alongside other things like TOTP – you've hardened yourself against people who would try to take over your phone number and thus other aspects of your digital life.
3. Privacy. In the case of an anonymous phone plan, you actually have created a good layer of protection between your name and your phone number – at least, by default. If you buy a phone plan on credit and tie your real name to it, they're automatically correlated. With an anonymous phone plan, there are still lots of ways those numbers can be tied together, but they're mostly up to you at that point and practicing a lot of the advice I gave in this article.

If you really wanted to go the extra mile, you could couple these strategies with a data removal service to help scrub your existing data from people search sites, making it even harder for malicious actors to find and abuse your data. A quick caveat though: I wouldn't recommend just signing up for one of these services and calling it a day. These services aren't always perfect and they won't do anything about data breaches or other illegal sources of data.

Even if you should decide to continue to use a single SIM phone number, I hope this blog post has at least helped you become aware of how this can be used to invade your privacy, and I hope you'll take at least the basic steps to protect yourself such as handing out your phone number less often and switching over to TOTP 2FA. I'm a firm believer that privacy is a spectrum, and every little step that moves you in the “more safe” direction is a positive one. But ultimately it's on you to decide what the right level of action is for you and take those steps.

Sunday 2025-03-09

Prayers, etc.: * 07:00 – Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel, followed by praying The Angelus. * 08:00 – praying the Glorious Mysteries of the Holy Rosary in English, followed by the Memorare * 09:15 – making an Act of Contrition then making an Act of Spiritual Communion, followed by praying Archbishop Vigano’s prayer for USA & President Trump. * 10:30 – Readings from today's Mass include – Lesson: 2 Cor 6:1-10 and Gospel: Matt 4:1-11 * 10:45 – Today's Morning Devotion (Psalm 50) found in Benedictus Magazine, followed by the Canticle of Zacharius (Lk 1:68-79). * 11:00 – Thought for today from Archbishop Lefebvre: God created Adam and Eve in the state of grace. They were raised to the supernatural order, so they had the divine life in them. They lost it, and at the same time they brought a profound disorder into human nature itself. They unbalanced human nature by their sin, by their disobedience. * 12:00 – praying The Angelus. * 16:20 – prayerfully reading The Athanasian Creed. * 18:00 – The Angelus, followed by today's Evening Devotion (Psalm 111) found in Benedictus Magazine, followed by the Magnificat: Luke 1:46-55 * 18:30 – praying the hour of Compline for tonight according to the Traditional Pre-Vatican II Divine Office, followed by Fr. Chad Ripperger's Prayer of Command to protect my family, my sons, my daughter and her family, my granddaughters and their families, my great grandchildren, and everyone for whom I have responsibility from any demonic activity. – And that followed by the Sunday Prayers of the Association of the Auxilium Christianorum.

Health Metrics: * bw= 224.21 lbs. * bp= 131/81 (65)

Diet: * 08:25 – 1 banana * 09:30 – 2 HEB cookies * 10:10 – fresh pineapple chunks * 12:10 – 1 orange * 13:00 – big plate of pancit, white bread * 13:40 – more fresh pineapple chunks * 14:10 – 2 more HEB cookies

Chores, etc.: * 12:00 – started following the Tampa Bay Rays vs Toronto Blue Jays MLB Game * 14:10 – tuned in Texas Rangers Radio ahead of this afternoon's Rangers vs D-backs game

Chess: * 11:30 – moved in all pending CC games

posted Sunday, 2025-03-09 ~19:45 #DLMAR2025

Today is the first full day of the time change, clocks having all bumped forward an hour at 02:00 in the morning. Some years this change hits me harder than others, and this seems to be one of the bad ones. Hopefully a good night's sleep, if I can find one tonight, will put me back in synch for a better Monday tomorrow than this has been a Sunday.

posted Sunday, Mar 9, 2025 at ~6:32 PM #QNMAR2025

Carrie Gessner 419 pages Self-Published (2016)

Read this if you like: The Wheel of Time, David Eddings, character-driven high fantasy tl;dr summary: Three magic users in a world where magic is dying set out to avert war, solve a murder, and avoid bringing about a prophecied doom.

See the book on Bookshop

 

I can be very picky when it comes to my sword-and-sorcery. I’ve read enough fantasy that too many familiar tropes bore me quickly—but I’m disappointed when writers drop or subvert the typical tropes entirely, to the point it no longer feels like high fantasy.

It’s a delicate and difficult balance to strike, and I’m always excited to find somebody who does it right. And I got really excited about The Dying of the Golden Day from pretty much the first sentence. The way this opens is smart. It teases with a little fake-found-text-ey intro that tells the reader this is a fully developed world, with its own history and mythology. That’s something I like seeing early on as a fantasy reader because it’s a sign this world is going to be unique and immersive, and that definitely held true throughout this novel.

I also like how this gets into the story. Starting with Aurelia on her own lets the reader get to know her outside the context of her bond with Renfred. The opening also sets up a nice mystery around Brennus’ identity that adds a lot of productive tension to the first half of the book.

Aurelia is the best-developed of the characters, which stands to reason, and for the most part I felt like the secondary cast was developed to the correct depth relative to their role. There were a couple of characters I found myself wanting more of—Minerva for one, and also Mira, both of whom had a lot of presence on the page when they graced it. I’m hopeful they’ll get bigger roles in future books, because I didn’t feel like their potential was fully realized in this one.

That said, this really wasn’t their story—the main focus was on Aurelia, Edana, and Brennus, and it does make sense to keep the reader’s focus there for the first book. Their story had a nice quest arc, and the way that wraps up at the end is enough to give it the feel of conclusion. I almost wish it had ended a bit earlier. I understand the logic of a cliffhanger ending to pull readers into the next book, but honestly I feel like this book did enough to get a reader hooked without needing that kind of device, and it did leave the ending feeling a bit unresolved.

I tend to read fantasy for the worldbuilding as much as I do for the characters, and overall The Dying of the Golden Day doesn’t disappoint. The device of the heartfriends I very much enjoyed. It had shades of the Aes Sedai/warder bond from Wheel of Time but different enough that it didn’t read as derivative. I also enjoyed the building of the prophecy and the play with translation from an in-world language. The only place I found myself wishing for a bit more was with the magic system itself. I like the division into 3 types of magic, which kept individual magic characters from being too powerful while still allowing for magic as a concept to be broadly useful. That said, I felt like the healing magic in particular came across as too weak. Most of the times Aurelia is shown healing someone she does it using herbs. While I appreciate that she can’t heal everything, I was looking for maybe one or two on-page examples of how her magic healing goes beyond what the physicians can accomplish. Granted, it does seem like all of the gifted’s powers grew stronger over the course of the book. Possibly in future books her power will expand. Still, so much is made of her being gifted that I felt like it should be used more.

This book is a great example of how to creatively subvert tropes to keep them fresh. The big one I’ll cite as an example is the prophecy. Usually when there’s a prophecy in this kind of book, the main character ends up being the prophecied chosen one—not the dark force whose arrival portends doom. While the prophecy around Aurelia is a bit more complicated than this, I appreciated that there were at least characters in-world who thought this was the case. It added another layer and a bit more depth to the traditional prophecy plot line.

I’ll definitely be reading the rest of this trilogy. It’s made me feel like I need to know what happens next, and that’s a sign of success from any book in my opinion. A strong recommend for other writers and readers of high fantasy.

 

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#BookReviews #Fantasy

Anything that, in happening, causes itself to happen again, happens again

Nine years ago, I bought my first SLR-camera. We were in New York for my cousin's wedding, and since the cameras were cheaper than in Norway, and since I had wanted a camera for many years, and since I had money for the first time ever — you get the picture.

And so did I. Not just one picture, but thousands of pictures. 15535 with that camera alone, to be precise. Whenever I went, I had my camera with me. In New York, I visited Bideawee pet memorial park and got a picture of Checker's grave.  After that I went to Chicago for the American Communist Party National Convention: I didn't know about how to adjust the camera, so all pictures from inside the building turned out to be useless, but I did get some pictures from the famous picket line outside Congress Hotel.

I went to Fjærland and had my camera with me, I went to Vaison-la-Romaine and documented among other things a game of motoball, I took pictures of basketball players and cemeteries (Cemeteries are fascinating: you can tell about the living by the way they treat their dead), and I experimented with sunsets and shadows:

But first and foremost I took pictures of people. I must have thousands of pictures of my wife from that time. I know I have thousands of pictures of other people: family, friends, random strangers. And of course, our sons.

My first camera got destroyed by approaching concrete in a velocity it wasn't designed for. My second camera got misplaced somewhere in the Scottish highlands. I am on my third camera now — and it's surprisingly picky: I can't get it to function with any other lens than a 85 mm.

Which means, of course, that my already pronounced preference for taking close-ups of people gets even more pronounced. And that might be one reason why I have stopped taking pictures almost completely. But I would like to change that.

That's why I had lunch with my photographer friend today: to have a photography class. He laughed when he saw my lens. Oh, that might be a challenge, he said, really, only a 85 mm?

I brought my old 50 mm lens as well, but no matter how much we tried, we couldn't make it work.

Yes, I said stoically, only a 85 mm. My wife calls it the nose-hair lens; she has forbidden me to use it indoors.

He pulled out his professional gear, worth ten times as much as mine. He took a picture of the table. Listen to that shutter sound, he said, dreamingly.

I want to take better pictures, I said. How can I become a proper photographer, just like you? I mean, I am a really really bad photographer, even when I worked with you at Universitas, I had no clue, not the faintest idea, of what constituted a good picture or which photographers were better. Could you help me?

I have asked that question many times about many different areas. How do I become a good swimmer? A good basketball player? A good writer? A good driver? A good cook? The answers have invariably been about two things: One, know what you are dealing with. A driver must know his car, a cook must know his food, a basketball player must know his basketball. And two, just practice. There is no secret ingredient, no magic potion, it's all about doing something over and over until you get good at it.

This line of reasoning is behind Malmcolm Gladwell's 10 000-hour claim which has ben shown to at best a partial truth. There has to be something else, it can't be just practice, not even for a photographer. Right?

Yeah, my friend grudgingly agreed, there is probably something else. Something genetic or something. But does that matter?

What do you mean?

I can sit here and talk about the technical stuff, about how cameras work and all that, and then we can go on to talk about lines in the image, about circles and triangles and rectangles, and about foreground and background and composition. But it will only take an hour or so, and it will only take you so far. To see those lines, to use those lines when you take pictures, you need to get you brain into the habit of looking for them. And no matter what you say, that takes time and effort and focus.

Yeah, but...

And it really doesn't matter how good every one else is.  It's not a science, it's not even about getting good grades or reviews from others. It's about whether you like your pictures. And it's about looking at others' pictures to get some ideas for making your own pictures better or different. You think you are a bad photographer? Compared to whom? You don't like your own photos? Good, that means you have an idea of how to improve them. You like to take close-ups of people? Good. Continue doing that, in the end you'll have your own nose-hair exhibition. It's about doing things over and over, it's about trying to improve by not being happy with where you are. It's easier than you fear, but it takes a lot more time than you hope.

So to sum it all up, I said, in one pithy sentence, how do I become a good photographer, then?

Take good pictures, he replied. The bill's on me.

those were the days of roses

Place: home Dramatis personæ: My wife (W), Myself (J), oldest son (O), youngest son (Y), Youngest son's best friend, Teacher. Time: one Wednesday morning.

05:30 O wakes up, but stays in bed, counting to 5 000 000. (He later admits he skipped a few numbers.)

06:15 O goes down to his parents' bedroom.

O (whispers in a loud stage whisper): Daddy! Daddy! It's a quarter past six. J (sleepily): I told you to wake me at a quarter to six. O: Yes, I know, but you always say that you want to sleep a bit longer, so I thought I'd give you more time to wake up. J: Grhmbnhm.

O goes to the TV-room to watch some cartoons. W turns over and sighs.

06:45 J goes upstairs to take a shower. In the bathroom, he sees Y, not quite awake, missing the toilet and peeing all over the floor.

Y: Where's Sebastian? J: In the toilet! J lifts Y to the toilet. A few drops make it. Y: Sebastian's in the toilet? J: No, he's downstairs watching cartoons. Go find some other trousers, these are all wet. Y Stumbles out the door, yawning. J takes a towel to clean up the mess.

07:00 J goes downstairs to the TV-room with clothes for Y. O sits under his duvet, looking pale. Y sits next to him, his legs inside a pyjamas top. J: Are you alright, O? You wake up too early. O: I'm cold. J: And what about you, then? You know how the difference between trousers and tops? Y doesn't answer. J turns off the TV. O and Y: Nooooooooooooo! We want to see some more! J: No, it's time for breakfast. We haven't got that much time. O: I'm not hungry. Y: Nooooooooooooooo! I want to watch some more! O has been watching all night! O lies down on the sofa, his head on Y's leg. Y hits O as hard as he can. O, ever the slyer, pinches Y. Y starts to cry. J lifts up O and pushes him out the door, then puts Y on his lap and forces him to put on clothes. Y: I don't like this T-shirt! It's not cool! J: You wore it yesterday! Y: Well, I don't like it now! Besides, It's dirty! Look, it's the spaghetti we had yesterday! J: We didn't have spaghetti yesterday, it was the day before that. Y: I don't want it! J: You must. Y hits J, screams, sobs, sighs and gives up.

07:15 O lies on the couch downstairs. O and J sits at the kitchen table. W is upstairs taking a shower. O: I don't feel too well. J: You're just tired and hungry. Here, I made you a sandwich. O: I don't want a sandwich. I'm not hungry. J: Well, if you really don't feel well, I suppose you have to stay at home today, then. Y: I want to stay at home too! J: No, you... Here, if I give you this sugar-coated, über-sweetened stuff, will you be quiet? Y: OK. O: How come he can eat that and I can't? It's candy, dad, and it's not even Saturday today! J: But you're not hungry! O: I am if I can get some of that candy for breakfast. J: Alright, here. O joins Y and J at the kitchen table. The children have one candy each. J eats a carrot.

07:45 The children still eat their candy. O sits on the couch, Y at the table. W comes down from the bathroom. W: It smelled like pee up there. Did Y have an accident? J: Yes, it was all over the floor, but it's alright now. I cleaned it up. O: I'm cold. W: So, kids, ready for school? Why do they eat candy? It's not even Saturday? O: I don't want to go. Y: Me neither! I'm cold too! W: You don't look good, O. Do you have a temperature? J, have you measured...? J: Yes, yes, I was just about to get the thermometer. It's in our room, right? W: It's in the bathroom. Second drawer from the top, on the left hand side, next to the nail clipper. J: Yes, I know, that's where we put it, I was just about to... J goes upstairs and fetches the thermometer. When he comes down, Y has taken off his sweater and T-shirt. Y: I don't like this T-shirt! It's not cool! J: I told you to wear it. We don't have any other T-shirts. W: But it's dirty! Look at it! Yesterday's spaghetti! J: We didn't have spaghetti yesterday, it was the day before that. W: And you want him to wear a T-shirt with two-day-old spaghetti on it? J: I... I'll go get another one. J goes up and comes back down with two new T-shirts. He shows them to Y. J: Are these cool? Y: No, I don't like them. W takes up a T-shirt from a chair. W: What about this one? Y: Oh! Ninja Turtles! I'm Leonardo! Zapp whapp whapp! Y puts on the Ninja Turtles T-shirt all by himself. J goes back up with the two other T-shirts. When he comes back down, W has a concerned look on her face. W: 38.5. J: Oh. I suppose he really has to stay at home, then. W: Do you think it's a coincidence that he gets sick the day after he wore nothing but a T-shirt and an unbuttoned jacket on his way back from school? Perhaps next time you make him wear more clothes? O: I'm cold. Can I play Wii now? Y: I want to play Wii too! J: No, Y, you must go to kindergarten. We have to go now. Put on your jacket and button it well. Y: Noooooooooooo! J: If you come now, I'll give you your candy. You can eat it on your way to school. Look, you've got plenty left! W: O is sick, and he has to stay at home. Next time you're sick, you can stay at home too. J: And he won't even play that much Wii, he'll have to lie in bed all day. O: Noooooooo! J: Candy, Y, candy, candy, come on, we're in a hurry. Y: O can't play Wii? W: And your best friend is waiting for you at the kindergarten. Y: OK, I'll come. Y and J get dressed. W stands in the door as they go out. W stretches out her arms. W: Hug? Y goes over to W and gives her a big hug. As he moves away from her, he wrinkles his nose. Y Mum: why do you smell of pee? J: Gotta go, gotta go! Bye!

08:15 At the Kindergarten. Y has just seen his best friend and is throwing his jacket on the floor out of joy. A teacher comes over. Teacher: You're earlier than usual today? J: Are we? Well, you know, some days are worse than others. Teacher: And how are you today, Y? I can see you have a candy there. Y: O got one too! Because he's sick. Teacher: You won't eat it here, of course? Y: (silence) J: No, of course, it was just a morning bribe, you know, some days... Teacher: ... are worse than others, yes, so I've heard. I'll se you inside, Y. The teacher goes inside. J: Could you give me the candy? Y: No. J: You heard your teacher. You can't eat it here. Y: No. J: If you don't give it to me, your teacher will take it from you. Give it to me. Y: No. J: Just...! J takes the candy from Y. Y: Noooooooooooo! The teacher comes back with Y's best friend. Teacher: Are you alright, Y? Here, come with me, we have a new toy for you today. Best friend: Yeah, and we can play with it together! Y (sobs, sighs, stops): What's the game like? Y tags along with his teacher and best friend. J puts the candy in his pocket. J: Well, I'm off then. Hug? Y: No. J: OK, bye! J puts on his own jacket, opens the door. Y comes running and gives him a hug anyway. Y: Bye, dad! J: Bye. I'll pick you up around three. Y: Bye! Bye! Bye! J: Bye. Y: You smell of pee too! Bye!

**

Identify the last three actions for which you did not think your way through.

• putting a sticky candy in my pocket
• giving out candy in the first place
• bringing candy to kindergarten
• telling O to wake me at 06:30
• letting O be cold
• putting the towel back on the rack
• I can go on...

Tomorrow, I'll do the exact same thing. Except for the towel. That's a bit too much.

Read and research about a topic. Write one page of pragmatic ideas which can advance that field.

en som har levd lenge

There is only one solution to the rampant plague of swearing: we must all swear more. But we cannot do that unless we know how. This is how.

First we need a definition: what is swearing? Swearing is verbal aggresion. Swearing is a way of using aggressive words to get what you want: you measure level of swearing with level of aggression, and your swearing is successful if you do get what you want.

Swearing consists of three separate aspects: force, taboo and insult.

Force is level of aggression: You use lots of force, you scream, you get in someone's face, you're angry etc. The opposite is making yourself less threatening, speaking softer, smiling or averting your eyes more. It's the basic animalistic mode of communication we share with all other living creatures: it's the nonverbal aspect of verbal aggression.

Insult is the personal reaction. This varies unpredictably: when I was 12, all the normal insults (jerk, idiot, fool etc) didn't affect me — but 'orang-utan' did, for some unknown reason. Some Norwegians are insulted by 'potato', some find it amusing and have nothing against the idea that there should be a derogatory term for Norwegians in Norway.

Taboo is the (perceived) reaction from society. Although you yourself might have no objection to being called a potato, you might have a strong sense of taboo: one shouldn't say that here, someone might be insulted, and anyway, it's just wrong.

Now, this means that all words are swear words to a lesser or higher degree. Almost any word can be said to be taboo in some settings and in some contexts: both of my sons find 'pink' to be a taboo word among their pals, since just saying it makes you girly. The latin terms for sex organs are taboo if you want to be a tough 14-year-old boy. (Any word used to create an in-group becomes taboo for some; it even works with pronunciation.) Any word can be used to insult someone, 'orang-utan' insulted me, 'cake' might insult someone on a diet, 'tulip' might insult someone from Holland. And any word can be said more or less aggressively.

In other words, there are no words that are unique and separate from all other words, there is no clear demarcation line between swear words and non-swear words. There is no such thing as an inherently “bad” word, although most children spend hours trying to find that magic ingredient which changes normal words into something despicable, and even more hours trying to find the elusive demarcation line (“Is 'stupid' a swear word?” can lead to long discussions among six-year-olds).

There are also ways of combining these aspects:

high taboo + high insult (but low force): the way a mafia boss talks in films. Softly, deceptively nice, but with many high-taboo words and with many insulting phrases about your intelligence, dedication etc. high taboo + high force (but low insult): the way you would swear when your pc breaks down. Not with any intention to insult (how can a pc be insulted?), but with many high-taboo words and lots of non-verbal threats to send that damn pc to some sort of hellish afterlife with devils whipping its hard drive and its screen being constantly prodded with needles. high force + high insult (but low taboo): the way people in power use language. Like teachers: if a teacher uses taboo words, he's in big trouble, but if he shouts insults at you, he is much likelier to get away with it — even if you would much prefer him say one 'fuck' too many than hear him shout your grades and your probable future jobs to the entire class.

If you have a high level of all three, then, force + insult + taboo, you have proper swearing: and this is how you measure level of verbal aggression, ie your level of swearing.

To swear better, you must use this knowledge to get what you want. That means you can't  swear too much and you can't swear too little. Let's say I want to be seen as tough in a bar in one of the tougher neighborhoods here. If I order my Guinness with a squeaky, apologetic voice, using laughably old-fashioned and now just funny-sounding swear words, making it obvious that I am trying too hard and that I'm not really that tough, I will get my Guinness but not much respect. If, on the other hand, I barge in and scream from the top of my lungs all the worst swearwords I can think of, word that will make Chuck Norris blush, they would probably call the police or just throw me out themselves, if they can.

If I ask my grandmother-in-law to send me the sugar, though, I should use that squeaky, apologetic voice. The most important principle of swearing is this: you must know your audience.

The second principle is this: do not accept that the meaning of words, and their level of taboo, is fixed once and for all. Adults always say that today's young swear too much, much more than they used to do. But that's not true. A word's level of taboo changes constantly: the next generation will use words differently than you do, they will put different taboo values on words. In Norway, there's a big discussion about the word 'neger' (negro). It used to be

quite neutral, even in use in many children's songs, but now, probably influenced by the taboo level of 'nigger' in the States, it's fast becoming a high-level taboo word. When old people claim that this is wrong, that 'neger' just means 'black', that it's a neutral way of talking about people whose skin are a  tad less fair, they don't realise that the taboo level has changed, and they discuss as if their way of using the word is the only way indefinitely.

The opposite is equally true: if an adult accuses a teenager of using swearwords too much, it might be that the taboo level has decreased for those words, and that the teenager doesn't mean to be verbally aggressive. They're just words like any other words.

The third principle: swearing is more than taboo. You can be deeply insulted without hearing a single high-taboo word, and since insulting is a kind of verbal aggression, insulting is also swearing. Complaints about swearing is also one kind of swearing.

The fourth principle is this: you must know what you want. How can you measure the effectiveness of your swearing if you don't know what you want that swearing to do?

The fifth principle: Be precise. Don't swear too much out of habit, but don't avoid swearing just because it's wrong in general. It's a part of language, like everything else, and anyway, as we have seen, every part of language can be measured on the swearing scale. Every word is a swear word at some level, and almost any word can be made into a swear word in some way: you can make it a taboo word for your group, you can use it to insult someone, and if nothing else works, you can at least scream it. (Try walking into a bank and scream “PROBABILISTIC!” a few times. I'm sure they will feel threatened.)

The fifth principle: being a good swearer also means being empathic. You don't want your verbal aggression to bring people to tears or to make them feel bullied. Sure, if someone challenges you and starts harassing you, you might use your knowledge of swearing to fight back. But being the one who instigates the bullying? Picking on those smaller than you? Using your language to make life hellish for others? No. It would go against the next principle.

The sixth principle: have fun. Be creative. Create bonds to other people, make them laugh with you. If swearing is about getting what you want via verbal aggression, the very best way of doing that is by finding that kind of aggression which makes them laugh: when my youngest son swears like a sailor, we all smile and play with him some more; when he whines and complains that we don't play with him enough, it's a bit more counterproductive. When you swear on a basketball court, done right, it creates a feeling of “we are a team”. Done wrong, it's just annoying.

Swearing can be the closest everyday equivalent of poetry there is. A good swearer will use lots of strange metaphors, will relish in the sounds of words, will dance in and with and around language.

We should all swear a lot more. QED.

Day 2522 Don't you find it enjoyable. When it all comes together. The moment. The time. The feeling of greatness. Sike. We're all on the cusp of nothingness. Born to be forgotten. Our achievements lost to time. Left in the darkness.

#Chapter25

Pelletyze — Update #5

Finally, I was able to work again on my Pelletyze project. 🥳

The Bug

There was a bug, where the checkbox was not recognized and the formData I've sent to the server was empty. This feature worked in the past and I don't understand why it broke.

The Fix

Because I use the @radix-ui/react-checkbox and don't handle the state manually, I need to wrap with a @radix-ui/react-form. That's it. 😎

While I was working on the component, I also transformed it into a server component. Which was easily done, by using getTranslation() from next-intl instead of useTranslation and making the component asynchronous.

The bug was the reason I've implemented the delete-all Button. To save me a trip to the Supabase admin page and clear the table.

This was my Sunday contribution to Pelletyze.

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10 of #100DaysToOffload
#pelletyze
Thoughts?