2024-11-21 12:30:00
I've been wanting to make a blog post that I keep updated with what albums I'm currently bumping, and then I saw this website get linked the other day and figured it would actually force me to do this.
For now, head over to Album Whale if you wanna see what albums I'd recommend you check out. Many of these are from 2024, so go ahead and call it my "best of" list even if it includes Dookie and Nevermind lmao
2024-11-18 23:29:20
It's very, very rare that I see people calling for peace in any meaningful way.
For a long time, I thought it was because war was seen as a separate issue to sustainability, which is probably true to some extent, but I'm increasingly getting the sense that people are actually afraid to talk about it. In an increasingly polarised world, caring people are often harshly criticised for saying anything that goes against the prevailing state propaganda, or for even suggesting that there is propaganda.
I'm here to make the case that us sustainability folk should stop ignoring the uncomfortable topic of war and look at it through the lens of people and planet. When we do so, it quickly becomes apparent that no matter what your political views, peace is a fundamental requirement of a sustainable world.
2024-11-16 21:10:00
My family and I love going to Barnes and Noble whenever we stop at the Mall of America.
For the first several years of their lives, whenever we'd enter the doors of that prime Rotunda location, the kids and I would make a beeline to the train table situated all the way to the back.
It felt a natural path, a re-routing of the natural path I used to take whenever I'd enter the Borders bookstore that no longer exists by my own parent's house.
At Borders, I'd make a beeline for the tech books. I remember peeking at every single one, from A+ certification manuals to Web Pages That Suck (a book that I checked out from the library half a dozen times). To me, there might as well have been no other sections in the store.
As I get older, I'm finding myself questioning these paths that I take. The well-worn path worked great for an era of my life, but sometimes, it's fun to venture onto something new.
My kids are older now, but they still run into Barnes and Noble with the same gusto they've had for years. The difference is that they're old enough to run ahead of me.
This means I can take my time, which I use to slowly scan over all the books displayed in stacks on tables in the aisle.
A few weeks ago, I noticed a book called What My Mother and I Don't Talk About. It's a collection of essays from 15 different writers about their relationships with their mothers.
This style of book perfectly meshes with my preferred approach of reading: instead of one theme carried across 300 pages, each chapter is its own contained, complete thought. It really felt like I was burning through my Instapaper queue.
And of course, the stories told in these essays were tragic, beautiful, and every feeling in between.
It's hard not to read these stories and reflect on my relationship with my own mother. At a minimum, I am grateful that I don't have an especially painful or abusive relationship like several expressed. Maybe someday, I'll pen my own essay and share it with my mom before she passes.
But until then, I'll have to bask in the wisdom shared in this book.
Some of the highlights:
I really enjoyed Kiese Laymon's "While These Things / Feel American To Me", with this timely evaluation of life in this country:
The problem in this country is not that we fail to "get along" with people, parties, and politics with which we disagree. The problem is that we are horrific at justly loving the people, places, and politics we purport to love.
As someone grappling with letting go of my own traumas, this quote from Brandon Taylor's "All About My Mother" is a helpful observation:
It's strange, really, that to grasp that which has hurt you, you must trust it not to hurt you when you let it inhabit you.
And finally, two observations from the final essay in the book, Leslie Jamison's "I Met Fear On The Hill". First, on love:
This pride comes from the same internal place as the delusion I spent much of my young adulthood believing: that it is better to be the one desired more, rather than the one doing more desiring. As if love were a contest; as if desire were fixed, or absolute; as if either position could insulate you from being harmed or causing harm; as if being in control could insulate you from anything.
And finally, on the importance of telling your truth:
We get so used to the stories we tell about ourselves. This is why we sometimes need to find ourselves in the stories of others.
I highly recommend reading this book, and then if you're lucky enough, go give your mom a hug.
2024-11-16 12:27:00
I’m in the midst of a media cleanse. This started before the election when I canceled my Washington Post subscription. Jeff Bezos can do whatever he wants with the Washington Post, and he’s 100% correct that I don’t trust large media organizations.
After the election, I removed all news sources from Feedly except the Atlantic because I find their writing informative and compelling.
A friend calls this turtling. Pulling your head inside your shell and hiding. It’s quite comfortable here. With most of my free time, I’m leveling a dragon Holy Priest in World of Warcraft. #ama
I’ve slowly retreated from all social media with the exception of LinkedIn since around the time of the first Trump presidency.
Today, my only social presence is on LinkedIn, and even there, I’m not nearly as active as I used to be.
I think it’s mainly because when I would share an article like this one with my thoughts, I’d get next to no replies to it. There’s very little incentive for me to want to share things if I’m all but guaranteed no one will see it.
On here, though? I’ll at least get an occasional message from someone who liked an article I shared. In fact, it’s way more meaningful when I do, because it always leads to a deeper conversation.
Reading blog entries and books and long-form essays like those shared on The Atlantic are like eating salad compared to the fast food that people keep trying to cram down our throats in the form of incendiary attacks on people who are different from us.
2024-11-14 10:42:00
Interestingly, most of the people who’ve heard me say this over the last year or so think that I’m complaining or lamenting the situation, but I’m actually excited about it. That malaise by the big players in tech a generation ago yielded an exciting and inspiring new wave of innovations. While much of the money in big tech was chasing distractions back in 2004, many communities of small, independent creators on the open web were making the new pillars of web culture — many of which are still standing to this day.
Every year, the batteries in the iPhone get bigger and more capable. Instead of giving those gains back to us, as users, they instead take more and more advantage of the gains so the relative battery life stays the same (about 10 hours).
If you look at the payloads of any major website (let’s pick on the New York Times), you’ll likely see that less than 1% of the bandwidth goes to the actual text of the article. The rest goes toward ad tracking crap and all kinds of JavaScript nonsense.
The difference between 2004 and 2024 is that we have large amounts of insanely powerful, compact computers spread across the entire planet.
That, combined with more powerful servers and cheap hosting, should really allow us to build the cool stuff people are looking for again.
Which, at a time when it feels like the world around us is imploding, gives me a lot of hope.
We built Geocities pages on IE 4 back then. We can do a lot of good with Rails 8.