I’m a big fan of Alan Jacobs, despite some ideological differences. But to use this mathematical phrasing in Q3 kinda defeats the answer to Q4, no? There’s “so much of it”, yet it must also be infinitesimally small…

After what felt like decades of unbearable heat, we finally got some rain and hail. It’s at least 10°C cooler than yesterday, which makes playtime a bit more comfortable.

The sound of failure

“Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit—all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided. It’s the sound of failure: so much modern art is the sound of things going out of control, of a medium pushing to its limits and breaking apart. The distorted guitar sound is the sound of something too loud for the medium supposed to carry it. The blues singer with the cracked voice is the sound of an emotional cry too powerful for the throat that releases it. The excitement of grainy film, of bleached-out black and white, is the excitement of witnessing events too momentous for the medium assigned to record them.”

—Brian Eno, A Year With Swollen Appendices

For easy flatbreads that go with anything, combine:

  • 100g self-raising brown flour
  • 100g natural yoghurt
  • a pinch of sea salt
  • optional: a pinch of poppy seeds, herbs or spices

Split in two then roll to 2-3 mm thick. Cook in a dry pan over high heat for a minute or so on each side.

No-one cares about the alt-right’s opinion on music education 

Ethan Hein writes about, among other things, cultural bias in Western music education. While hardly alone in his opinion, by writing about it in a public arena he often faces (mostly constructive) criticism—which of course helps him develop and evolve his argument.

Less helpful are the opinions of the moronic, racist alt-right, who recently blundered their way across his blog and, well, you can guess what happened next.

I’m used to cultural conservatives calling me racist for talking about racism. But I wasn’t sure why this guy was harping on the word “postmodernist.” It’s an accurate description of my scholarly approach, but it also describes everyone I know. It would be like disparaging me by calling me an American. This is before I found out that “postmodernism” is a Jordan Peterson buzzword.

Then, a couple of weeks later, the real excitement began.

Source: My adventures among the alt-right | The Ethan Hein Blog

How to treat Morrissey? Stop listening to him

Stewart Lee:

This isn’t the time for ambiguity, or irony, or publicity-seeking controversy. Those days are gone, and I miss them, as I am part of a generation that profiteered from the assumption that political correctness was a done deal, and now we could have fun jumping in and out of its boundaries, like street kids round a spurting water main. But the Nazi-saluting pug bloke has just joined Ukip so his racist dog doesn’t seem remotely funny any more.

If Breitbart or Spiked can roll out your comments approvingly online you have fucked up. Nowadays, your true intentions have to be written through every inch of your content, like the word Blackpool through a stick of rock, so at any point the useful idiots of the hipster “alt-right” and their fellow travellers in the opinion industry chose to snap it, it still can’t be repurposed. The trouble is, there’s no longer any way to make the case that Morrissey ever meant anything other than what he says.

It’s easy to forget the internet was once an escape from real life:

First in the era of America Online, and then in the era of LiveJournal and micro-blogging, the internet was at least partly an escape. It was a place where the boundaries of real life, in which everything was more or less a job interview, could be sloughed off and one could imagine the internet as a quiet, uninhabited space of whispered intimacies. In this era of hyper-usefulness, what seems rarest and most valuable online are spaces that offer, however illusorily, a return to this original uselessness. There are places where, against the constant obligation to be seen and remembered, we might get to be unseen, unrecorded, and forgotten.

(via Kari Geltemeyer)

Kye and I are absolutely killing it over on Readwise.

I wrote in passing about Readwise; it has proven to be a terrific service that I’ve not only stuck with but started paying to support.

(NB: I have no idea who Kye is, therefore I hope he forgets to read his notes tomorrow.)