Jellyfish, Fireworks, and a Book Rec
amuse-bouche #2
The upside-down jellyfish
There was an article in the New York Times the other week (that is basically how I find out what is happening in the world – well, the NYT and this newsletter) that I found interesting, in a Seth-Godin kind of way.
For years (decades? Idk, I can’t check the article because our wi-fi is out. Can you imagine: how distraught suburban Oklahoma must be, to not have internet on a Saturday afternoon!), scientists were perplexed by a certain type of fossil found in the weird west, like Idaho or Utah or one of those. They were jellyfish fossils – one end had a sort of bulb thingie, and the other end sported tentacles. Jellyfish! Yet there were inconsistencies in the jellyfishy anatomy that all the fancy scientists could not reconcile with true jellyfish anatomy.
Then one day, maybe just after he had a healthy lunch of vegetable soup and homemade hummus and sourdough bread, one scientist went back to his desk with his gluten-free carob chip cookie, where one such jellyfish fossil lay next to his notebook, taunting him.
Munching on his cookie, he casually spins the piece of rock around so that from his vantage point, the top of the jellyfish is now the bottom.
Sea anemone!
That’s right, they’d all been looking at the fossils upside-down.
Once they turned it around, they figured out the jellyfish were a type of sea anemone.
You can see where I’m going with this, right?
Just in case you can’t, in case you haven’t flipped this fossil around yet, I’ll tell you.
No, wait—I won’t. You’ve got this one.
Capitalism will kill us all (and other bedtime stories)
I’ve been trying to take a walk in my neighborhood every day in the mornings, before it gets hot. This walk is particularly depressing for the two weeks after the 4th of July, because everyone leaves all their firework garbage in the street. I wish I didn’t have to admit I live in that kind of neighborhood, but there it is.
Fireworks are such a waste of money! Have you ever looked at the packaging? It’s marketed like candy. Bright colors, cartoonish images. Sham! Not to mention the chemicals they release into the air, and all the plastic and cardboard and toxic substances they leave all over the ground (which then goes into the water supply). It’s really the most depressing “holiday” to me.
On several of my walks, all the junk on the ground got me thinking about capitalism. Well, the junk on the ground and the news, and politics, and my retirement accounts all got me thinking about capitalism.
Capitalism is great! It’s the American Way! Wooo!
But…
We’ve created corporations that don’t have the best interest of the human race at the core of their existence. If it is written into their missions to do what’s best for the bottom line, how can we ever expect them to do what’s best for our health or our mental well-being?
Just this morning, the New York Times Morning email led with a story about labor abuses in other countries and ways that (American) companies can conveniently turn a blind eye to the suffering of others, in the name of cheap products.
To quote the email, written by Megha Rajagopalan:
Social auditors around the world depend on the access they get from factories, which have few incentives to open up. Companies seek to profit and serve their shareholders first. They worry that oversight and regulation could raise costs.
Here is a link to the full article, if you can get to it (if you can’t, let me know and I’ll gift you a copy, if I can).
If these companies were to change their practices and use truly ethically sourced products (to create actual food and not the plastic packages of chemicals they currently try to pass off as food), would you even call that capitalism anymore?
How will we save ourselves from ourselves?
“The free-market system will take care of things because people can make their own choices.”
“The government needs to step in and regulate things.”
“I think I am only going to eat raw carrots for the rest of my life.”
Yes, sure, you can make good choices for yourself, decide who to give your money to or not, and so can I. But overall, we are doomed. DOOMED!
I am not saying I advocate for another structure over capitalism. I’m not really part of any group in particular. I’m just watching over here thinking, what is the point?
Turn the jellyfish around. You will see the sea anemone.
Book Recommendation
Algorithms. Algos. Blech.
I started writing a longer rant for this section, similar to the one above (nothing good ever seems to come from algos, similar to out-of-control capitalism), but I don’t think that would serve either of us.
But I will say, whatever “feed” you are viewing, is not chosen for your benefit. It’s chosen for someone else’s benefit.
Toss AI into that, and you’ve got yourself a nice side salad to your main entrée of bleak future.
Gosh, I’m in a great mood today, huh? You’re welcome!
But there is some good news here. I think that personal recommendations will become even more important than they are now.
You could look up reviews for a restaurant, but if a friend you really like tells you the new Thai restaurant is awesome, doesn’t that mean more?
So I thought I might share with you what I’ve been reading from time to time, in case you’re interested, or maybe looking for a new read.
I just finished reading The Best of Everything, by Rona Jaffe. My cousin had recommended it to my aunt, who let me borrow her paperback copy. I thought oh cool, I like my cousin’s taste, I’ll be interested to read a book she likes.
I liked it. This “original Sex and the City” was written in 1958 by a twenty-five-year-old woman who worked in publishing in NYC. It’s got all of the things—interesting insight into “Modern Life” in the ’50s, cool retro cultural references, and compelling stories of young women trying to navigate the world of work and family.
The writer’s voice is young, but I was impressed by the depth she had into the different emotions that often befall women that age. I saw pieces of myself in each character, and apparently the experts say that’s what makes a good book. (I would argue that’s one thing that can make a good book.)
I won’t give you a plot synopsis, you can go read the blurb for that. But I liked it, and if you’re looking for a new book to read, maybe try this one.
Note: I am an affiliate with bookshop.org, so if you do want to buy the paperback (which has a very satisfying heft and intellectually appropriate small type), I hope you’ll consider supporting me and your favorite local bookshop by picking one up here. Oh—and you can also see some of my other recommendations!
Book Recommendation
Algorithms. Algos. Blech. Am I right?
I started writing a longer rant for this section, similar to the one above but neither you nor me needs to put ourselves through that.
But I will say, whatever “feed” you are viewing, is not chosen for your benefit. It’s chosen for that company’s benefit.
Toss AI into that, and you’ve got yourself a side salad for your bleak future entrée.
Gosh, I’m in a great mood today, huh? You’re welcome!
But there is some good news here. I think personal recommendations will become even more important than they are now.
You could look up reviews for a restaurant, but if a friend you really like tells you the new Thai restaurant is awesome, doesn’t that mean more?
So I am going to give you some book reviews from time to time.
I just finished reading The Best of Everything, by Rona Jaffe. My cousin had recommended it to my aunt, who let me borrow her paperback copy. I thought oh cool, I like my cousin’s taste, I’ll be interested to read a book she likes.
I liked it. This “original Sex and the City” book was written in 1958 by a twenty-five-year-old woman who worked in publishing in NYC. It’s got all of the things —interesting insight into “Modern Life” in the 50s, a snapshot into what might perhaps be considered feminism in that era, and the compelling stories of young women trying to navigate the world of work and family.
The writers voice is young, but I was impressed by the depth she had into the different emotions that can be present for women that age. I saw pieces of myself in each character, and apparently the experts say that’s what makes a good book. (I would argue that’s one thing that can make a good book.)
I won’t give you a plot synopsis, you can go read the blurb for that. But I liked it, and if you’re looking for a new book to read, maybe try this one.
Note: I am an affiliate with bookshop.org, so if you do want to buy the paperback (which has a very satisfying heft and intellectually appropriate small type), I hope you’ll consider supporting me and your favorite local bookshop by picking one up here. Oh—and you can also see some of my other recommendations!
PS: turns out my cousin hasn’t actually read the book yet. It might turn out that she doesn’t like it.
Your mileage may vary.
