Panopticon

When Fred wrote a piece about Isis’ album Panopticon yesterday, I thought for sure he was going to explain what exactly a panopticon is. He does know, I’m sure of it, because we talked about it some time ago. Anyway, I guess his prediction that it wouldn’t be the last time for the word to be used in a blog, will come true even more quickly than he thought!

The Panopticon (from the Greek πᾶν ὀπτικόν, ‘all visible’) was originally a type of building designed by the English philosopher Jeremy Bentham (1748-1832). Think of it like this. Imagine you need to make a prison for a thousand people but can’t afford more than one prison guard. How can you control that many people with that small amount of man power?

Bentham came up with the following solution to create an incredibly a cheap prison system. Build a prison with a circular structure and an ‘inspection house’ in the middle from which the one prison guard is able to watch the inmates who live in cells around the perimeter of the building. Like this:



Now make sure that the guard can watch the prisoners at all times and that the prisoners do not know when they are watched. You could do this, for instance, with one way glass - you know, the mirror/glass in the interrogation room in movies (Bentham’s nineteenth-century method was slightly different, but never mind). Now, in this way no prisoner of the Panopticon would ever try to escape, because they would never be sure whether the guard was watching them or not. In this way, one man could guard a thousand prisoners, and more. Moreover, he wouldn’t even have to work all the time. There would be no way for the prisoners to tell if he was on duty or not. In fact, if you think about it, you wouldn’t even need a guard at all. No prisoner would ever be the wiser. Indeed, the Panopticon leaves the watching to the watched, so to say, and thus operates by ‘power of mind over mind’, as Bentham put it, rather than by physically guarding people.

Over time (and largely thanks to the analysis of this concept by Michel Foucault) the panopticon came to stand metaphorically for the hierarchical social structure of modern society and its increasing tendency to observe and control people. Indeed, nowadays ‘they’ can see you in the street with CCTV, they can locate you with satellite imaging, they can listen to your cell phone conversations, they can see the websites you’ve visited, what you bought with your credit card and so forth. So I guess you could say we effectively live in a panopticon today.

However, I’m always slightly annoyed when people then turn paranoid (and even more when they use paranoia as an adjective talking about it) and start shouting Big Brother is watching you! There is, in my mind, one important difference in our case. The panopticon aims to keep prisoners from escaping, or generally stated to keep people from doing what’s illegal. So if you are not trying to do anything illegal, what does it matter if you might be watched? You don’t even know for sure if you’re ever really watched or who does the watching for that matter.

Think of it like this. Suppose there is a chance – but it’s not a certainty – that at some point someone – but you won’t know who – could see you in the shower – but you won’t know when it happens, provided it does. Would you then be afraid to take a shower? I don’t believe I would, actually.

So I’m not too crazy about all the shouting in the media that our privacy is being invaded. Come to think of it, I’m glad someone’s watching my streets, my credit card or the internet our children visit. So watch me all you want, Mr Big Brother, thou lonely guard of the Panopticon, I couldn’t care less.

But apparently the sludge metal band Isis did mind and that’s why they called their third album Panopticon, because it deals with ‘the proliferation of surveillance technologies throughout modern society and the government’s role in that spread’.

Such cry babies those metal heads...

Pod-heads (4)

This isn't the first time the word 'Panopticon' is used in a blogpost. And I doubt it will be the last time. Because this is the name of my all-time favourite CD, released by the American band Isis in 2004. There once was a time in which I could safely write "I cannot tell you how many times I listened to this album", but iTunes kept track of that: 'So did we', the opening track, was played at least 114 times from my laptop. Add all the times I have been listening to Panopticon on the train, staring through the windows, or walking through the city, dreaming about other cities...

In case you pressed 'play', chances are that you pressed 'pause' as well - after roughly 15 seconds I presume? And yet: despite the brutal opening featuring Aaron Turner's harsh vocals, this track sums everything up there is to know and appreciate about Isis. Filed under the post-metal flag, they create long, epic tracks (mostly instrumental), combining melodic lead passages with heavily distorted outbursts, fusing eery guitar riffs with repetitive bass lines, blending intense emotions and musical craftsmanship into a massive landscape in which you - the listener - cannot do anything else but wander around and get lost. This description may sound quite abstract and maybe even somewhat grand or sumptuous - after all, I am writing about a CD - but I guess this is what Isis evokes in me. Even at this very moment, as I am listening to what iTunes officially recorded as the 115th time, I get overwhelmed by a strange feeling...

Just in case you're interested in more post-metal bands (good things are there to be shared, a philosophy which applies to more than cheese and beer), try one of the following: Pelican, Russian Circles, Red Sparowes, Neurosis, Amenra and so on.

Have a safe journey back!

Mrs. Robinson

Research is a fascinating thing. Only today I read on The New Scientist that after additional observations our beloved neutrinos seem to continue their quarky behaviour and might after all be able to travel faster than the speed of light (story here). If it were true (and I still think we need to be careful), it would be a jaw-dropping finding.

Just think about it. We’re able to send people to the moon, soon even to Mars. We can operate on people’s brain while they are awake. We are about to replace solar panels with a kind of ink that contains silicium nano solar cells, which means that we can print energy cells on paper! And still we do not fully understand one of the most basic things in the world: how fast stuff can move. Just imagine what we’ll be able to do once we do understand it!

And this, dear reader, is why it’s such a privilege to be part of the group of people that can contribute to our understanding of things - even if, in Fred and Fred’s case, that involves questions about stuff which might seem much more trivial than the behaviour of neutrinos. Moreover, it is also the reason why scientists and scholars should take their job as serious as they possible can. But regrettably they do not always do so. A year or two ago, I was shocked to hear that a philosophy professor, whom at one point I was very close to working with for a year, had been fired for plagiarizing on a massive scale. And lately, there seem to be more and more cases of the same deontological tomfoolery. Only recently there was the case of a sociology professor who made up his own research data (story here, on Wikipedia no less!) and yesterday I read about a cardiology professor doing something similar (story here). And it baffles me. If you truly believe in your sacred - and yes, that's the word for me - mission as a researcher, namely to discover new information about ourselves and the world we live in, how can you then knowingly spread false information? It's beyond me.

Anyway, I'm on this high horse because today I was confronted with some bad research myself. No cases of plagiarism or anything as bad as that, but still. The last week I have been working my way through pages and pages of Latin correspondence between Erasmus and one of his Frisian acquaintances, since I have been invited to speak about the topic at the end of the month. Now when doing research I like to form my own opinion about a subject before reading papers by others that involve the same or a similar topic. Just to be objective, you know. So this morning I finally started looking at some of the articles I had gathered. One of them, by a certain Mrs. Robinson, was published in 2004 in a journal that has an IT-B ranking (with IT-A being the highest possible, think Nature or Science) and discusses some of the aforementioned correspondence while tackling a different issue. Now just imagine my jaw dropping when I discovered that not one of Mrs. Robinson's statements, not one, about these documents is correct. Apparently she misunderstood them, all of them. And so the world is left with just a little bit more false information. Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson!

On her online cv (where she also proudly posted an online version of the paper horribilis) I read that Mrs. Robinson (a PhD in classics by the way) is also an artist. God bless you, please, Mrs. Robinson - but stick to art in the future, will you? At least that doesn't have anything to do with the truth.

Koo-koo-ka-fucking-choo, Mrs. Robinson.

Youth of Today

Today is International Student's Day, in commemoration of what happened in Prague in 1939. On October 28, a demonstration was held in Prague to commemorate the anniversary of the independence of the Czechoslovak Republic. During this manifestation, suppressed by Nazi forces, an unfortunate Czech student (Jan Opletal) was shot in the stomach. He died in the hospital on November 11. A few days later, his body was transported from Prague to his home town in Moravia, and the funeral procession (attended by thousands of students) turned into an anti-Nazi demonstration. The Nazi's responded with drastic measures: all Czech higher education institutions were closed down, more than 1,200 students were arrested and sent to concentration camps, and on the 17th of November nine students and professors were executed without trial.

Personally, I can relate to this story because of two reasons. First of all, I have spent one whole year at the Charles University in the beloved city of Prague. Not only is the Czech Republic's ancient capital a captivating and truly fantastic place to live (or wander around as a tourist), I can also say that my year in Prague has given shape to the life I am living now. People that stuck with me, experiences that were etched in my mind, and opportunities that changed the course of my career.

Secondly, I have a job (a.o. because of my stay in Prague) which brings me in contact with students on a daily basis. And 'they' can say what they want, but my impression is that the youth of today still embodies a lot of fire and passion. Of course, it's different from what my father told me, and I guess that even the comparison with my own student years wouldn't make any sense at all - despite my relatively young age, but still: deep down, students will never change. And this is not about the unconditional love for beer, cheap food and fellow students of the opposite (well, you know what I mean) sex, this is about their desire to connect, change and contribute.

For the students!

Keep raising your voices, preferably not during my classes ;)

Get it on!

I guess, nay hope, that you’re probably not too surprised to hear that Fred and Fred are pretty big fans of comedy. I mean, we do try to be funny (we hope you’ve at least noticed the intention), but of course we are very aware of the fact that we are nowhere near our examples. And who might they be? Well, I believe Fred is quite fond of standup comedians like Eddie Izzard, Steven Wright, Jimmy Carr and of all-round talent Ricky Gervais, whereas I’m more of a BBC comedy man, enjoying Green Wing, Little Britain, The Fast Show, Never Mind the Buzzcocks, Shooting Stars, and shows like that. Still, I’m no stranger to standup either and especially like Scottish comedians Frankie Boyle and Kevin Bridges. Now, if you want to know more about all this funny stuff, do leave this blog and Google or YouTube any of the aforementioned names. You’re in for a very, very good laugh. But if you want to get to know something else, I suggest you read on for a while…

Indeed, I have left out one comedian in the list – a man whose nasaly drone (his words) I listen to almost every day. And that man is Adam Carolla. He’s come up a few times on this blog already as the source of one witticism or another, but I’m pretty sure nobody knows who the guy is.

Adam Carolla, born in LA in 1964, used to be a carpet cleaner, a traffic school instructor, a carpenter, a boxing instructor, and a general contracter before getting into the comedy business. He then did radio shows, got several succesful shows on MTV, made a movie and finally got his own morning radio program The Adam Carolla Show. However, in 2009 the very popular radioshow was inexplicably cancelled, and Carolla was out of a job.

And that’s when a stroke of genious hit. Carolla started a daily podcast, also called The Adam Carolla Show, which is available for free on iTunes.


It includes a news cast, a guy with a brain tumor doing funny sound effects (for real!), and games like Blahblah-blog where the guy guess which celebrity wrote a certain pompous quote on his or her blog. The show also features interviews with guests like Christoph Walz (the German colonel from Inglourious Basterds), Morgan Spurlock (the guy from Supersize Me) or Michael Moore. In May 2011 the show became the Guinness World Records holder for the most downloaded podcast after being downloaded a whopping 59,574,843 times from March 2009 to 16 March, 2011!

So now, every morning after getting out of the shower, I put my iPod in the speakerbox and listen to this podcast. And I listen to it during my commute, while doing the dishes, when shopping; pretty much whenever I have the time, really. And I absolutely love it.

Why?

Well, Carolla’s prime talent is … complaining – something I’m quite fond of myself actually (if you hadn’t noticed yet). Indeed, one of the many bits that come along in the podcast is called What Can’t Adam Complain About?, a part where listeners can call in and challenge Carolla to complain about something that they think is impossible to complain about. I’ve heard him complain with dolphins, Ferraris, even oxygen, and it’s always super funny. But during the show too, Carollo will complain about just about anything. About flavoured iced tea, for example, saying “Iced tea has a flavour! It’s tea flavour. We need to call peach or passion fruit iced tea something else so I don’t end up with a cold drink tasting like potpourri and shit when I order iced-tea!”

But complaining isn’t Carolla’s only talent. He’s quick as a fox and his tongue is razor sharp, which allows for hilarious quotes. I’ve often had people on the train looking at me in a funny way because I was ‘laughing like a hyena’ (again, Carolla’s words) at one of his quotes. Here’s a couple for you to enjoy:

• "Having sex without a condom is like riding a roller coaster with diarrhea. You can't just throw your hands up and enjoy it."
• "I give women two types of orgasms. Fake and none."
• "When black men get fat they become bouncers. When I put on 30lbs I start looking like Truman Capote."
• "He doesn't sound like a guy who's done a onesome, let alone a threesome."
• "Chicks named Tammy have a greater chance of actually driving a Mercedes than a chick named Mercedes."
• "You think you're Napoleon? You're nuts. You talk to Jesus? You're nuts."
• "You might be an eighth Cherokee, but you're still seven eighths asshole."
• "My philosophy is: figure out what you want to do in life then take a nap."

(source: @carollaquotes twitter-account)

So, get it on with Carolla (his catchphrase, repeated at the start of every podcast) and check out the show at http://www.adamcarolla.com. It’s free and funny as hell!

Thank you and mahalo (his Hawaian-style sign-off).

Centenary

This really is our one hundredth blogpost. What started as (and, as you will soon see, with) a joke has now officially become a collection of 100 reflections, rants and rhetorical ramblings. Apart from the embedded pictures and youtube video's, this amounts to more or less 200 kilobytes of information.

And yet, we have chosen to wait with the fuzz until we reach number 111. The question is of course: why? First of all, despite the fact that people celebrating anniversaries seem to have a natural liking towards multiples of five, any number is interesting. This can even be proved mathematically. For when do we call a number interesting?

Or just skip the number, and let's talk people instead: when do we say someone is interesting? When they have this one particular property that sets them apart from the others, right? Some sort of characterization that renders them unique. Well, the same thing applies to numbers. Two for example, is an interesting number, as this is the only even prime number. Which - pun alert - makes it the oddest one amongst the prime numbers...

Suppose now there exist numbers which are not interesting. Or downright boring, to make it worse. Wouldn't it then be quite interesting for a number to be called the first boring number? Agreed, it doesn't sound as nice as being a perfect number (like 6, because it is the sum of its own proper divisors, since 6 = 1 + 2 + 3), but it would still be a pretty interesting property. However, this very argument undermines the concept of being a boring number. Which therefore means that any number is interesting.

There are even websites and books listing numbers, and the reason why they are interesting. Here's a nice example. And it explains why we choose the number 111, as this is the smallest possible magic constant of a (3x3)-magic square containing distinct primes. And if that doesn't ring a bell, nevermind: only eleven to go...

The Power of the Remix

Last Saturday I went to see Tom Lanoye’s Sprakeloos (‘Speechless’) – adapted from the novel for theatre – in which he tells the tale of his mother’s stroke, subsequent aphasia and slow demise. And although I’m not that big a fan of the cliché, I’m willing to make this one exception: I was speechless. I’m not going to go into ornate descriptions of his baroque style with its grandiose verbiage and courageous syntax; Lanoye does the real thing much better than I can describe it. Still speechless, so it seems.

However, Lanoye’s monologue also reminded me that at times when we are at a loss for words, we can turn to music to express what lies between the unsaid and the unsayable. Somewhere towards then end of the show Lanoye had some photographs of his mother projected on stage and the theatre room basked in the unspeakable melancholy of music. Afterwards I found out through my friend M (thanks for the invite by the way!) that the song in question was a remix of Dinah Washington’s This bitter earth by Max Richter who fused it with his On the nature of daylight for the movie Shutter Island:

You can listen to the original song by 50s blues singer Dinah Washington (1924-1963) here and read all about it here, but I must confess: I like the remix better. Perhaps because the strings are more bitter or more likely because Richter’s version will always remind me of Lanoye’s words. But still.

And that got me thinking: there are actually quite a few songs where I like a remix or cover version better than the original. I purposely didn’t Google this as I’m writing it, but here’s a couple that I can think of immediately:

Ryan Adams - Wonderwall (original by Oasis)

The Baseballs - Umbrella (original by Rihanna)

James Blake - Limit to your love (original by Feist) (sorry N, I know you won’t agree!)

But above all, I’m curious, my dear Freddies: what’s your favourite remix or cover song? Do tell!