I have been studying a new industry lately, it is called Home Automation or Domotics in Europe. It is really a fancy name to describe the age old problem of "why can't my mom operate my remote". Every self respecting geek has one day felt the urge to program his or her house. Home Automation in the field is lights, AV, AC, Security. Today it is a bit of an expensive hobby, even downright elitist in some cases, but the technology is rapidly democratizing, due to Wifi, Commodity software/hardware, the iPhone and the housing crisis.
What started for me as an infatuation with the iPhone as a universal remote (I built a prototype on Linux with Appcelerator to command comcast) has evolved into a full blown affair with an open community that congregates over at www.openremote.org.
The community is fun. Turns out HA is one of those things like sports, you can discuss it with pretty much anyone and they have thought about it. Those that want to participate in OpenRemote see the benefit of an open approach to the field in the first place.
We are not the first ones to do something like that, not even the open part. The "geek curse" started with Wozniak leaving apple to create "cloud nine" the universal remote design. Stewart Allen, ex-CTO of WebMethods was the founder of Tonto, the OSS Pronto project back in 2001. He is a member. We are aggregating several heads of projects, think JBoss federation, Neil from Linux HA, Wade from Java-X10 etc. There are professionals on the site, hobbyist, a bunch of JBossians that have a keen interest in HA. And last but not least, there is Mark Spencer.
I have blogged about Mark in the past, partying with Mark in Huntsville, in Paris, in ATL, and this is the secret project we have been working on for errr 6 month. Mark is the founder of Asterisk and Digium and we share investors (David Skok) and is a living legend in the field of HA. Walking around with him, reminds me of walking around with Gavin King at JavaOne. I go around saying "You heard of Mark Spencer?" They ALL worship Mark Spencer as Mr OSS VOIP. Then I drop "he works for me!". He he I love it.
My interest in this is more than hobby. I am building a new house in Atlanta and I have decided to pass on a Crestron, may still go for an AMX system due to their KNX integration. Anyway that frees up a bunch of cash to go best of breed and invest in OR development.
So what does OR do? We are an Open Community in Domotics, product design is rather open. We provide a hardware reference implementation on Java Linux it will help us develop but also provides the physical bridge to IR/RS/Ethernet/wifi. On the software side use JBoss actually as the base for our server leveraging packaging and installation. It is an application of JBoss in a way. We use Java to map protocols.
There is a personal motivation in proving that java technology can help solve many of the technical problems of the field. The HA field is very fragmented many many vendors, many standards, few dominant, a lot of proprietary standards. Using the modularity of JBoss we plan on supporting various such protocols out of the box. In the plans are X10, Insteon, KNX, IR/RS. Mapping protocols is something java is good at. This way we have writeByte() C drivers we can access through sockets and the C drivers remain simple while java does all the protocol implementation.
For IR and RS we have a database called "Beehive" that collects IR and RS codes so you never have to see a HEX code again in your life as you program your remote. This is not new, every vendor has one, the point here is to maintain a professional quality one in an Open fashion.
Finally we still have a healthy infatuation with the iPhone. Our current software panels are based on cocoa and HTML so your iPhone can control this all. You can even assemble simplified pages for your mother with just 4 buttons.
So what do I do in this? well right now I am helping build the community. There is some talented people, energy is high and you can feel that everyone wants this to happen. It is a charged ambience. It is also a friendly ambience. After all we are dealing in home technology and nobody wants an abrasive presence in the home. This is not the middleware field. I want to be a catalyst. Like I was a catalyst in the past.
As far as fields go though, this is an interesting market. Finding out where we fit and add value is consuming a lot of my time. I believe the answer may be in integration and tooling. We can offer common programming models, from the java world and the web 2.0 world, so you can program visual workflows (think JBPM) rather than write HEX codes sneaked out of the back of some reference book. Simplification of programming would be a good non-trivial contribution.
I am looking at KNX, a european standard that has been certified for the Chinese market and is really media agnostic by specifying a telegram over RF/IP. As a spec we can use it to have the centralized message representation and immediate integration to an existing ecosystem. It is the closest thing to EE specs for JBoss.
We are learning what it means to support various drivers. This is early in the cycle. It is geeky, it is fun. I am learning a bunch and it is good stuff. I am going to do this for a little while. I am even thinking, GASP! about writing some code again! God forbid!
Most importantly I can do this from anywhere in the world. So I will be programming KNX in Madrid. It reminds me of the early JBoss days. I already feel I know some folks I have never met in person. The company of old and new friends is always a good thing. I want to see it take off.
Right now there is no product to play with, just early discussions. If you have an interest in HA and OSS, you want to learn something new, or contribute what you already know, this may be a good place for you to make a significant contribution. I hope to see you there.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Spain move: D-6
We are moving to Madrid in six days and I am excited. I like moving, I like not knowing exactly what is coming up. Growing up I moved a dozen times and my parents must have moved 20 times. There is this sense that you don't really know what your life is going to be like in a couple of weeks. I like figuring new things out. For me it is also the return to big city life in Europe.
For Nathalie it is a couple of years outside of the country, living an urban life (we will be in the center of the Retiro), she has liked living in the center of Paris, and a welcomed break from the routine of Atlanta. For the kids it may be a unique opportunity to be immersed in both languages, French and Spanish. We are both tri-lingual, and would love for the kids to be as well.
So we are now in the maelstrom of moving, with well, movers moving stuff and our place emptying up. We have gone through layers of memorabilia in the house. Taking strolls down memory lane as we went. There is a sense of anticipation about the future.
We are coming back. We just bought some land in Atlanta, and while we are building I intend to cool it off in Madrid. It will take us 2-3 years. We have time. Madrid is a good place to be.
Leo (5 years old, in the picture jumping from 30ft at my in-laws lake place) says that he wants to go see a bullfight. I tell him he will see one first on TV. He says he wants the real deal, the arena, I don't know. Nathalie tells him: "but for sure you will go see the Real Madrid play Soccer". I am looking forward to that.
For those of you who wonder what I do over there. I do the same thing I do here. I watch over my investments. One such investment is called "OpenRemote" by the way, it is still stealth but not for much longer. You can get a sneak peak at www.openremote.org, it is an open community in Domotics, and I will write more about that soon. But it being online, I can do that from anywhere in the world, and why not Spain or anywhere in Europe?
So we had a bye-bye party last Friday and a lot of you came to Atlanta from afar. It was a great party, Nathalie had a blast, and I thank you all for coming to wish us away.
Ready? Go!
For Nathalie it is a couple of years outside of the country, living an urban life (we will be in the center of the Retiro), she has liked living in the center of Paris, and a welcomed break from the routine of Atlanta. For the kids it may be a unique opportunity to be immersed in both languages, French and Spanish. We are both tri-lingual, and would love for the kids to be as well.
So we are now in the maelstrom of moving, with well, movers moving stuff and our place emptying up. We have gone through layers of memorabilia in the house. Taking strolls down memory lane as we went. There is a sense of anticipation about the future.
We are coming back. We just bought some land in Atlanta, and while we are building I intend to cool it off in Madrid. It will take us 2-3 years. We have time. Madrid is a good place to be.
Leo (5 years old, in the picture jumping from 30ft at my in-laws lake place) says that he wants to go see a bullfight. I tell him he will see one first on TV. He says he wants the real deal, the arena, I don't know. Nathalie tells him: "but for sure you will go see the Real Madrid play Soccer". I am looking forward to that.
For those of you who wonder what I do over there. I do the same thing I do here. I watch over my investments. One such investment is called "OpenRemote" by the way, it is still stealth but not for much longer. You can get a sneak peak at www.openremote.org, it is an open community in Domotics, and I will write more about that soon. But it being online, I can do that from anywhere in the world, and why not Spain or anywhere in Europe?
So we had a bye-bye party last Friday and a lot of you came to Atlanta from afar. It was a great party, Nathalie had a blast, and I thank you all for coming to wish us away.
Ready? Go!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The kindness of Strangers
Via Yves Smith's, Evans Pritchard from the Telegraph outlines how, in a funny twist of fate, the american financial system depends on the good will of its past ideological enemies: china, russia and the petro-states.
Basically the analysis goes like this: the subprime mortgage crisis is morphing into a credit crisis, that is threatening to reach the US Treasury level. We have a full-blown wage-price inflation in emerging economies, which combined with the continued slide of the dollar, would make US Treasuries less attractive to these foreign investors. Flight to safety be damned, the dollar and foreign inflation will give it the coup de grace. Problem is, a large chunk of that debt is usually funded from abroad.
This bit about the GSE's is tough to swallow, essentially the US govt has just guaranteed the loans, what are they complaining about? 200 bips for free? The run on the dollar however is an interesting option. Albeit a political one. US investors have staged runs on other currencies in the past, are we counting on the good behavior of Mr Putin, who according to the same article sees Russia engaged in a new cold war with the US?
This is really bad news for the economy on US rates alone, limiting the FED field of action to stimulate the economy with lower rates. Furthermore most of our lifestyle is funded by debt that ends up showing as trade deficit, because it is truly funded by outsiders. No ticky, no laundry, this will add tremendously to the credit crunch. Not only are we witnessing deleveraging of M4 internally but if money flows reverse trend away from the US, we will witness the birth of a negative feedback loop at a monetary level bringing about severe deflationary pressures. As inflation sparks elsewhere, the US will further slump into recessionary deflation due to massive drops in monetary levels and no wage pressure. What a bad combo: high commodities lower prices on everything else.
The FED has already said clearly in the case of the GSE's: FORGET THE EQUITY MARKETS, SAVE THE BOND MARKETS.
A least one guy gets it:
And I am sure they are praising the comrades over in the US FED for making good on their private loans with public money. The conspiracy theories one can read about the FED do not seem so far fetched. But truth be told i am not sure they had a choice.
And for this last bit of irony.
What a funny and precarious situation. What a mess. The emergence of a middle class in the BRICs sparking global growth anew is the one scenario that can save us all (tm).
I bet on stagflation in BRICs, stagnation or recession with no long-term inflation in the US and potentially EU (depending on unions) as the oil shock of 2008 will not spark a wage price spiral but the Great Delevaraging of 2009 will wreck havoc on the land.
Bottom line: this is bad for equities, it is not even good for bonds (could be).
The day US Treasuries are contaminated by the sub-prime virus is the day I really freak out, 28 days later style.
Basically the analysis goes like this: the subprime mortgage crisis is morphing into a credit crisis, that is threatening to reach the US Treasury level. We have a full-blown wage-price inflation in emerging economies, which combined with the continued slide of the dollar, would make US Treasuries less attractive to these foreign investors. Flight to safety be damned, the dollar and foreign inflation will give it the coup de grace. Problem is, a large chunk of that debt is usually funded from abroad.
Roughly $1.5 trillion of Fannie and Freddie AAA-rated debt - as well as other US "government-sponsored enterprises" - is now in foreign hands. The great unknown is whether foreign patience will snap as losses mount and the dollar slides.
Hiroshi Watanabe, Japan's chief regulator, rattled the markets yesterday when he urged Japanese banks and life insurance companies to treat US agency debt with caution. The two sets of institutions hold an estimated $56bn of these bonds....
But the lion's share is held by the central banks of China, Russia and petro-powers. These countries could all too easily precipitate a run on the dollar in the current climate and bring the United States to its knees, should they decide that it is in their strategic interest to do so.
This bit about the GSE's is tough to swallow, essentially the US govt has just guaranteed the loans, what are they complaining about? 200 bips for free? The run on the dollar however is an interesting option. Albeit a political one. US investors have staged runs on other currencies in the past, are we counting on the good behavior of Mr Putin, who according to the same article sees Russia engaged in a new cold war with the US?
Merrill Lynch said foreign governments had added $241bn of US agency debt over the past year alone as their foreign reserves exploded, accounting for a third of total financing for the US current account deficit....
Global inflation is now intruding with a vengeance as well. Much of Asia is having to raise rates aggressively, drawing capital away from North America. This may push up yields on US Treasuries and bonds, tightening the credit screw at a time when the US is already mired in slump.
This is really bad news for the economy on US rates alone, limiting the FED field of action to stimulate the economy with lower rates. Furthermore most of our lifestyle is funded by debt that ends up showing as trade deficit, because it is truly funded by outsiders. No ticky, no laundry, this will add tremendously to the credit crunch. Not only are we witnessing deleveraging of M4 internally but if money flows reverse trend away from the US, we will witness the birth of a negative feedback loop at a monetary level bringing about severe deflationary pressures. As inflation sparks elsewhere, the US will further slump into recessionary deflation due to massive drops in monetary levels and no wage pressure. What a bad combo: high commodities lower prices on everything else.
The FED has already said clearly in the case of the GSE's: FORGET THE EQUITY MARKETS, SAVE THE BOND MARKETS.
A least one guy gets it:
Russia's deputy finance minister, Dmitry Pankin, said the collapse in the share prices of Fannie and Freddie over the past week was irrelevant because their debt has been effectively guaranteed by the US government under the rescue package.
And I am sure they are praising the comrades over in the US FED for making good on their private loans with public money. The conspiracy theories one can read about the FED do not seem so far fetched. But truth be told i am not sure they had a choice.
And for this last bit of irony.
China is regarded as a more reliable partner, with a greater desire for global stability....
What a funny and precarious situation. What a mess. The emergence of a middle class in the BRICs sparking global growth anew is the one scenario that can save us all (tm).
I bet on stagflation in BRICs, stagnation or recession with no long-term inflation in the US and potentially EU (depending on unions) as the oil shock of 2008 will not spark a wage price spiral but the Great Delevaraging of 2009 will wreck havoc on the land.
Bottom line: this is bad for equities, it is not even good for bonds (could be).
The day US Treasuries are contaminated by the sub-prime virus is the day I really freak out, 28 days later style.
Monday, July 14, 2008
DeathWatch on the GSEs
Another apocalyptic day just passed in the market and another one just like it is shaping tomorrow. "Terrifying day of trading" says John Authers of the FT and the coverage is that the bailing out of Freddie Mac and Fanny Mae, who insure half of the mortgages of the US, is not enough to calm the markets.
From the FT
The equity gets wiped out but the debt remains attractive because it is guaranteed by tax-payers. The spread is 200 bips and the risk is nil?
I have a morbid fascination watching this movie unfold. It feels like one big train wreck in slow-motion. I wonder if one day we will tell stories of "this is how it all went down" or we will tell stories of "don't panic, once I thought the world would end, and guess what, it didn't!"
I still stand by my earlier call: wait for the shoe to drop, wait for it, wait for it. Shoe will drop. FED will commit final balance (another 400B minus what they just committed here). And then it is on our own, UNLESS the FED resort to presses, which... I don't think they will. In the meantime part of the US financial infrastructure is being nationalized.
From the FT
The US Treasury’s plan to bolster the two mortgage giants with extra liquidity and the pledge to buy a stake if needed, announced on Sunday, helped to steady the nerves of bond investors who queued up to buy Freddie debt.
But equity investors remained unsettled amid concerns that the two companies, which guarantee $5,300bn in mortgages – almost half the US home loans market – were still vulnerable. Fannie and Freddie shares saw early gains wiped out and ended 7.6 per cent and 8.4 per cent lower, respectively.
The equity gets wiped out but the debt remains attractive because it is guaranteed by tax-payers. The spread is 200 bips and the risk is nil?
I have a morbid fascination watching this movie unfold. It feels like one big train wreck in slow-motion. I wonder if one day we will tell stories of "this is how it all went down" or we will tell stories of "don't panic, once I thought the world would end, and guess what, it didn't!"
I still stand by my earlier call: wait for the shoe to drop, wait for it, wait for it. Shoe will drop. FED will commit final balance (another 400B minus what they just committed here). And then it is on our own, UNLESS the FED resort to presses, which... I don't think they will. In the meantime part of the US financial infrastructure is being nationalized.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Sign of the Times: Divorces go up in London
The most ignominious manifestation of the credit crisis has got to be this news tip from the FT (via Fintag).
Now that the bonuses are evaporating there is no reason for disgruntled wives to stick around they high strung financier husbands.
no ticky, no laundry!
Bonus fears keep divorce lawyers busy
Now that the bonuses are evaporating there is no reason for disgruntled wives to stick around they high strung financier husbands.
no ticky, no laundry!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
China's achilles heel
Oil and the cost of transport.
A thought provoking article from the Telegraph (Via Yves Smith).
The bad news is that this adds inflationary pressures. China was a net exporter of cheap goods, and that is gone, the products are now expensive. The good news it that some of those jobs are coming back onshore in US and EU.
A thought provoking article from the Telegraph (Via Yves Smith).
Oil price shock means China is at risk of blowing up
By Ambrose Evans-Pritchard
Last Updated: 2:00am BST 08/07/2008
Have your say Read comments
The great oil shock of 2008 is bad enough for us. It poses a mortal threat to the whole economic strategy of emerging Asia.
Oil price shock means China is at risk of blowing up
An oil rig in China's Bohai Sea
The manufacturing revolution of China and her satellites has been built on cheap transport over the past decade. At a stroke, the trade model looks obsolete.
No surprise that Shanghai's bourse is down 56pc since October, one of the world's most spectacular bear markets in half a century.
The bad news is that this adds inflationary pressures. China was a net exporter of cheap goods, and that is gone, the products are now expensive. The good news it that some of those jobs are coming back onshore in US and EU.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
I, convalescent IV: Encounter with The Male Surgeon
Post Script
Two and a half glasses of champagne (Veuve Cliquot), one half bag of Milano cookies later...
My surgery, a medically recommended procedure being related to the end-of-the-line as far as my (biologically) procreative life goes, offers in my choice of surgeon, a hilarious intersection in his clientele, divided between women like me with real medical conditions, and women whose procedures are purely elective and cosmetic. In my brief interaction with The Male Surgeon, whose tendency not listen to me and then interrupt me with pre-prepared answers that have little to do with anything I have said, has convinced me that, despite his superior anatomical knowledge of women, the only way he really likes dealing with them is completely knocked out under general anesthesia. Supposedly he's a wizard with trocars and laparoscope, which is more important than personality, under the circumstances.
I was supposed to be partially conscious for part of the procedure, but "freaked out" under the first narcotic they gave me which was supposed to be very chill, but not, apparently, chill enough for me. I am dying to know what I said or did, but The Male Surgeon, smiles, a first for him, which is completely unfair because I'm not smiling. What am I doing? I'm lying in extended recovery in more pain than I care to remember in a hospital gown reminiscent of Jack Nicholson in "As Good as it Gets." Then, The Male Surgeon says, knowingly (ok what the frak did I do?), not to worry that "people do very weird things under the effect of anesthesia" and that I simply "wasn't comfortable" and that none of this means I was a "bad girl." If this was sexual repartee, that truly is as good as it gets for irony in my life these days.
Meanwhile, the marketing service employed by The Male Surgeon and His Colleague has been bombarding my email in-box lately wanting feedback on them. These emails started weeks before my procedure was scheduled, which is laughable because, whether or not, I'm "bad," I'm not stupid. I'm certainly not stupid enough to answer one of these and get moved from number two to number eight on his surgery schedule. You know the point where they've get the PA to stitch you up so they can make their four o'clock tee-off or worse yet, they accidentally nick a nerve somewhere and you won't be feeling anything for years. I'd like to think what I did tell him, under anesthesia, was that as a feminist and professional woman with serious medical issues, I don't completely relate to his advertising (glanced at once in "Atlanta Magazine") that seems to be aimed at the Alpharetta housewife who's afraid her husband is going to trade her in for a younger model and that his logo, with the strategically placed Georgia O'Keefe calla lily, would almost work, if it were intentionally that kitsch. Or, maybe I just made an ass of myself.
Post post script: Oxycodone, the Hillbilly Heroin
Worst of all, my husband, sympathizes with The Male Surgeon. "What did you say to him, honey? You could have had the ride of your life, but even after a healthy dose of what my anesthesiologist calls the 'number one drug abused by anesthesiologists who abuse drugs' (sounds good, but I'm not an anesthesiologist so I can't remember its name), "you're the one in ten who showed signs of residual "personality'." He wishes he could take me off-line when I get loopy and reload me into the system with plenty of upgrades. My husband says to write about oxycodone. What is there to say about oxycodone? It works. It takes the pain away. It fucks up your digestive system. My husband begs to differ, he nicked one of my painkillers in order to "get a good night's sleep," so good, in fact, that he didn't wake up until 11 am the next day. He says it's fantastic.
My husband comes around again and says that I have been writing for eight hours. He says that I am even more autistic than he is, because after four hours he needs a break. I say that I am a repressed autistic, who doesn't generally get to give in to her nature, seeing as we have four young children to raise.
So Nick and Nora Charles.
Thanks to those of you who sent flowers.
Two and a half glasses of champagne (Veuve Cliquot), one half bag of Milano cookies later...
My surgery, a medically recommended procedure being related to the end-of-the-line as far as my (biologically) procreative life goes, offers in my choice of surgeon, a hilarious intersection in his clientele, divided between women like me with real medical conditions, and women whose procedures are purely elective and cosmetic. In my brief interaction with The Male Surgeon, whose tendency not listen to me and then interrupt me with pre-prepared answers that have little to do with anything I have said, has convinced me that, despite his superior anatomical knowledge of women, the only way he really likes dealing with them is completely knocked out under general anesthesia. Supposedly he's a wizard with trocars and laparoscope, which is more important than personality, under the circumstances.
I was supposed to be partially conscious for part of the procedure, but "freaked out" under the first narcotic they gave me which was supposed to be very chill, but not, apparently, chill enough for me. I am dying to know what I said or did, but The Male Surgeon, smiles, a first for him, which is completely unfair because I'm not smiling. What am I doing? I'm lying in extended recovery in more pain than I care to remember in a hospital gown reminiscent of Jack Nicholson in "As Good as it Gets." Then, The Male Surgeon says, knowingly (ok what the frak did I do?), not to worry that "people do very weird things under the effect of anesthesia" and that I simply "wasn't comfortable" and that none of this means I was a "bad girl." If this was sexual repartee, that truly is as good as it gets for irony in my life these days.
Meanwhile, the marketing service employed by The Male Surgeon and His Colleague has been bombarding my email in-box lately wanting feedback on them. These emails started weeks before my procedure was scheduled, which is laughable because, whether or not, I'm "bad," I'm not stupid. I'm certainly not stupid enough to answer one of these and get moved from number two to number eight on his surgery schedule. You know the point where they've get the PA to stitch you up so they can make their four o'clock tee-off or worse yet, they accidentally nick a nerve somewhere and you won't be feeling anything for years. I'd like to think what I did tell him, under anesthesia, was that as a feminist and professional woman with serious medical issues, I don't completely relate to his advertising (glanced at once in "Atlanta Magazine") that seems to be aimed at the Alpharetta housewife who's afraid her husband is going to trade her in for a younger model and that his logo, with the strategically placed Georgia O'Keefe calla lily, would almost work, if it were intentionally that kitsch. Or, maybe I just made an ass of myself.
Post post script: Oxycodone, the Hillbilly Heroin
Worst of all, my husband, sympathizes with The Male Surgeon. "What did you say to him, honey? You could have had the ride of your life, but even after a healthy dose of what my anesthesiologist calls the 'number one drug abused by anesthesiologists who abuse drugs' (sounds good, but I'm not an anesthesiologist so I can't remember its name), "you're the one in ten who showed signs of residual "personality'." He wishes he could take me off-line when I get loopy and reload me into the system with plenty of upgrades. My husband says to write about oxycodone. What is there to say about oxycodone? It works. It takes the pain away. It fucks up your digestive system. My husband begs to differ, he nicked one of my painkillers in order to "get a good night's sleep," so good, in fact, that he didn't wake up until 11 am the next day. He says it's fantastic.
My husband comes around again and says that I have been writing for eight hours. He says that I am even more autistic than he is, because after four hours he needs a break. I say that I am a repressed autistic, who doesn't generally get to give in to her nature, seeing as we have four young children to raise.
So Nick and Nora Charles.
Thanks to those of you who sent flowers.
I, convalescent III: She Reads the Press
The TUE (totally useless education) offered broad de Tocquevillian cultural speculations on the difference between BBC English (RP) and the totally flat Midwestern American newscaster pronunciation, which is totally accent-less (to an American). I read both the high and the low press, and when I say low, I mean really low, the lowest of the low, "The National Enquirer." I love you Dominick Dunne, old fart and insignificant snob that you are, for admitting that you were thrilled to learn one could get a subscription to that publication. Sometimes, I read "Vanity Fair," then in Mallorca, I discovered "The Daily Mail,"Hello" and "Tatler."
Although their standard is hipness as opposed to old money, "Vanity Fair" and "Tatler" seem to employ a formula first popularized, for Americans of my generation, by "The Preppy Handbook." Referring to the latter, Angela Carter amusingly described it as symptomatic of Reagan era prosperity, an instruction manual for the "nouveaux riches" to study the mores of the "anciens riches" so that they might pass among them unnoticed. "The Preppy Handbook" offered insights such as "money is like the golden retriever sitting by the fireplace, you don't necessarily notice it much, but it's good to know it's there." Written by a class-traitor, who bites the hand that feeds it (and laughs all the way to the bank), the levity of style reassures the reader that it's ok to pay attention to this sort of thing because nobody takes it seriously. As for le vice anglais, "Vanity Fair" tends toward interminable articles in which the Dear Reader is offered a glimpse at people whose lives are touched by beauty, coolness, social significance and/or deviance, the likes of which his own will never approximate," whereas "Tatler's" articles are shorter and get right to the point: new and unsuspected opportunities for social mortification. "What kind of bore are you" (always suspected you were a bore, but now you can find out what kind!) "The new ultra-rich" (and why you aren't anybody if you haven't got at least $IB) or "The latest, coolest neighborhood off the M something or other" (don't worry, once you discover it, the hip will have moved on someplace else.) I think I like the "Daily Mail" better.
Back to Anglo/French/American stereotypes, in the more serious international rags I read, where I quickly skim past all references to the Dismal Science, but linger in the Arts, Culture and Home sections, it appears They view us (Americans) as naive, overgrown children who are occasionally (but not often) visited by glimpses of self-awareness. Friday's FT movie section queries, in all seriousness: "Is the American capable of irony?" As for sex bay-bee, they seem to ascribe to us a mix of Puritanism and liberation that makes us sexually weirder than they are. It's barely relevant, but I love this repartee from my husband's great-aunt, a Very Grand Lady, who as the wife of the Spanish ambassador somewhere in South America, responded to a remark about Spanish imperialism with the comment "Really you ought to be grateful to us for civilizing you. Prior to the Spanish arrival you were running around with nothing but a tail-feather in the arse." Not sure where that leaves us, their own descendants, who grew up in Rousseau's Garden of Eden among the noble savages, the "criollos" or creoles, from the Spanish "criado alli" or "raised over there," but having lived in both the Old and the New World, I think we are a hybrid mutation.
Le Monde est Mondial
At any rate, I'm a lot more "demi-monde" than "Monde"--that's "demimonde" not Demi Moore and, if you do look it up: not a "grande horizontale" either. See "demi-world of ghost writers, hacks and publicists." In a life, largely unburdened by any qualities likely to make me popular or easily identify with selective groups, I do remember one time at Wellesley, I considered joining a "Society." It was one of the better ones frequented by the pretty, witty girls. I had friends there, I might have got in, but then I thought better of it. I realized to get in would be a complete masquerade. I'd have to spend the whole time making sure they didn't get to know the real, not pretty, not witty me. I joined the Shakespeare society, instead, which offered a greater mix of people, more interested in Elizabethan masques than social status. This is where I learned there was an Indian equivalent of "The Boarding School Boys." This phrase, straight out of my high-school and early college vocabulary, had to do with getting a date to PDC (local prep school, girls ask boys, Sadie Hawkins dance) or deb parties. The only thing more mortifying than having to rely on A Boarding School Boy as your date (you were such a loser you couldn't get anybody you actually knew--or their brother, or their resident exchange student--to accompany you), would be to learn that you (the male), had unwittingly, through the machinations of Your Mother, become the poster-child (I'm pretty sure a picture was included) for The Boarding School Boys. That is to say, she had written up a resume of your qualities and, more succintly why she thought you would be a desirable date aka "Eddy would like to meet some nice local girls." I think the Indian equivalent, never actually saw it, was a marriage-focused resume with picture that went something along the lines of "Arun is a doctor/engineer with a degree from blank, or blank IIT, great professional prospects, job waiting for him in the States...who would like to meet a suitable girl."
Although their standard is hipness as opposed to old money, "Vanity Fair" and "Tatler" seem to employ a formula first popularized, for Americans of my generation, by "The Preppy Handbook." Referring to the latter, Angela Carter amusingly described it as symptomatic of Reagan era prosperity, an instruction manual for the "nouveaux riches" to study the mores of the "anciens riches" so that they might pass among them unnoticed. "The Preppy Handbook" offered insights such as "money is like the golden retriever sitting by the fireplace, you don't necessarily notice it much, but it's good to know it's there." Written by a class-traitor, who bites the hand that feeds it (and laughs all the way to the bank), the levity of style reassures the reader that it's ok to pay attention to this sort of thing because nobody takes it seriously. As for le vice anglais, "Vanity Fair" tends toward interminable articles in which the Dear Reader is offered a glimpse at people whose lives are touched by beauty, coolness, social significance and/or deviance, the likes of which his own will never approximate," whereas "Tatler's" articles are shorter and get right to the point: new and unsuspected opportunities for social mortification. "What kind of bore are you" (always suspected you were a bore, but now you can find out what kind!) "The new ultra-rich" (and why you aren't anybody if you haven't got at least $IB) or "The latest, coolest neighborhood off the M something or other" (don't worry, once you discover it, the hip will have moved on someplace else.) I think I like the "Daily Mail" better.
Back to Anglo/French/American stereotypes, in the more serious international rags I read, where I quickly skim past all references to the Dismal Science, but linger in the Arts, Culture and Home sections, it appears They view us (Americans) as naive, overgrown children who are occasionally (but not often) visited by glimpses of self-awareness. Friday's FT movie section queries, in all seriousness: "Is the American capable of irony?" As for sex bay-bee, they seem to ascribe to us a mix of Puritanism and liberation that makes us sexually weirder than they are. It's barely relevant, but I love this repartee from my husband's great-aunt, a Very Grand Lady, who as the wife of the Spanish ambassador somewhere in South America, responded to a remark about Spanish imperialism with the comment "Really you ought to be grateful to us for civilizing you. Prior to the Spanish arrival you were running around with nothing but a tail-feather in the arse." Not sure where that leaves us, their own descendants, who grew up in Rousseau's Garden of Eden among the noble savages, the "criollos" or creoles, from the Spanish "criado alli" or "raised over there," but having lived in both the Old and the New World, I think we are a hybrid mutation.
Le Monde est Mondial
At any rate, I'm a lot more "demi-monde" than "Monde"--that's "demimonde" not Demi Moore and, if you do look it up: not a "grande horizontale" either. See "demi-world of ghost writers, hacks and publicists." In a life, largely unburdened by any qualities likely to make me popular or easily identify with selective groups, I do remember one time at Wellesley, I considered joining a "Society." It was one of the better ones frequented by the pretty, witty girls. I had friends there, I might have got in, but then I thought better of it. I realized to get in would be a complete masquerade. I'd have to spend the whole time making sure they didn't get to know the real, not pretty, not witty me. I joined the Shakespeare society, instead, which offered a greater mix of people, more interested in Elizabethan masques than social status. This is where I learned there was an Indian equivalent of "The Boarding School Boys." This phrase, straight out of my high-school and early college vocabulary, had to do with getting a date to PDC (local prep school, girls ask boys, Sadie Hawkins dance) or deb parties. The only thing more mortifying than having to rely on A Boarding School Boy as your date (you were such a loser you couldn't get anybody you actually knew--or their brother, or their resident exchange student--to accompany you), would be to learn that you (the male), had unwittingly, through the machinations of Your Mother, become the poster-child (I'm pretty sure a picture was included) for The Boarding School Boys. That is to say, she had written up a resume of your qualities and, more succintly why she thought you would be a desirable date aka "Eddy would like to meet some nice local girls." I think the Indian equivalent, never actually saw it, was a marriage-focused resume with picture that went something along the lines of "Arun is a doctor/engineer with a degree from blank, or blank IIT, great professional prospects, job waiting for him in the States...who would like to meet a suitable girl."
I, convalescent II: Southern Lady
Would I be a Southern Lady? A lot of ambiguity where I come from when it comes to the word "Madame." In the careers I considered but never pursued category, I did once aspire to a title I could have earned on my own merits: The Honorable," for current or former American ambassadors. After all, if you are going to represent a bordello, why not The Most Powerful Nation in The Free World? In my imaginary life, association of "The Honorable" is tied up with lots of creamy stationary and the third person address: "The Honorable requests the honor of your presence" or "The Honorable declines to attend your function, busy as she is with her important life, looking after Matters of State."
The Southern (as opposed to European) definition of lady has more to do with "maintaining your dignity in the face of adversity" than who begat or married you. At least that's what I came upon reading Tennessee Williams' autobiography. He offers the example of the older lady living in reduced circumstances with her daughter and son-in-law, in a boarding house somewhere in Florida. Apparently being a lady means that when your drunken bastard of a son-in-law gets in a rage and drops his glass eye in your soup bowl, you gingerly fish it out (with the correct spoon) and say something along the lines of "Willis, I think you dropped something."
Meanwhile, I glance at a Lady's Progress sort of story in"Hello" magazine. "Lady So and So, daughter of somebody I've never heard of and his un-memorable little slut of a fourth wife (she's young enough to be his daughter and then some) became London's IT Girl and took up with a ubiquitous restaurateur." Exactly whose mother is proud of their daughter taking up with a ubiquitous restaurateur? The Hilton's may not act like ladies, but they're the grand-daughters of a hotelier, for frak's sake. We then learn that "Young Lady So and So (now past her prime in the Euro scene?) aspires to come Stateside and do Reality TV." There again, who, with any shred of dignity, would do reality TV? Whatever happened to the Pamela Harrimans? They had presence and style. At least Pamela's resume had lovers with premium names you'd heard of--The Aga Khan, Agnelli, etc.
Oh back to my denouement, forget the blood and lizards. Pan to some generic Western frontier scene. Cheryl Crow is singing about putting on a poncho and playing for mosquitoes, drinking, and talking about thrift store jungles, and Geronimo's rifle (he he), Marilyn's shampoo and Benny Goodman's corset and pen--my cultural patrimony. Or maybe, it's the South, throw in some magnolias and the strains of Reba McEntire's "Fancy" are playing instead
The Southern (as opposed to European) definition of lady has more to do with "maintaining your dignity in the face of adversity" than who begat or married you. At least that's what I came upon reading Tennessee Williams' autobiography. He offers the example of the older lady living in reduced circumstances with her daughter and son-in-law, in a boarding house somewhere in Florida. Apparently being a lady means that when your drunken bastard of a son-in-law gets in a rage and drops his glass eye in your soup bowl, you gingerly fish it out (with the correct spoon) and say something along the lines of "Willis, I think you dropped something."
Meanwhile, I glance at a Lady's Progress sort of story in"Hello" magazine. "Lady So and So, daughter of somebody I've never heard of and his un-memorable little slut of a fourth wife (she's young enough to be his daughter and then some) became London's IT Girl and took up with a ubiquitous restaurateur." Exactly whose mother is proud of their daughter taking up with a ubiquitous restaurateur? The Hilton's may not act like ladies, but they're the grand-daughters of a hotelier, for frak's sake. We then learn that "Young Lady So and So (now past her prime in the Euro scene?) aspires to come Stateside and do Reality TV." There again, who, with any shred of dignity, would do reality TV? Whatever happened to the Pamela Harrimans? They had presence and style. At least Pamela's resume had lovers with premium names you'd heard of--The Aga Khan, Agnelli, etc.
Oh back to my denouement, forget the blood and lizards. Pan to some generic Western frontier scene. Cheryl Crow is singing about putting on a poncho and playing for mosquitoes, drinking, and talking about thrift store jungles, and Geronimo's rifle (he he), Marilyn's shampoo and Benny Goodman's corset and pen--my cultural patrimony. Or maybe, it's the South, throw in some magnolias and the strains of Reba McEntire's "Fancy" are playing instead
I knew what I had to do but I made myself this solemn vow
That I's gonna be a lady someday
Though I don't know when or how
I couldn't see spending the rest of my life
With my head hung down in shame you know
I might have been born just plain white trash
But fancy was my name
I, convalescent I: Remembering JBoss
For somebody full of nervous energy, the hardest thing is to be still. The only other time in my life I have been in a similar situation was six weeks of bed-rest before giving birth to twins in 2002. My husband bought me a laptop and set-up wireless in the house for the first time. I can remember having about two hours a day in which I could get some work done, something that probably saved my sanity. At any rate, this weekend my parents have taken the three older kiddos for the first time in as long as I can remember, leaving us with His Babyship (ok he's not a baby anymore, he's 18 mos. old) who's chirruping about, the house with his nanny, and there's my husband--which leaves me with Time To Write.
Remembering JBoss
The difference between now and my bed-rest with the twins was a sensation, then, of germinating something, both biological and externally, with the fast growth of the company. The other day, a chance coincidence brought my husband back in touch with a figure from our previous life, a company that was an early on-site training customer. My husband didn't at first remember the name (nobody who knows him should ever be offended by this trait), but I eventually did because it was connected with that refreshing novelty of Getting Paid, something my upbringing had not quite led me to believe was possible in the context of independence, rebellion and Having Fun. Although, much of the early work was certainly mundane, much concerned with setting up trainings and Java User Group talks, arranging wires, signing checks, reading legal documents and approving contracts--that I laugh when I read about business school grads wanting to be entrepreneurs because I have a hard time reconciling that sort of risk-avoidant, professionally conventional stamp of social approval with getting your hands dirty with the unglamorous work and the professionally and socially dubious status of the old-fashioned entrepreneur (he who has no money and no patronage). So, we built a company in the shadow of a standard and a brand built by my husband's former employer, unofficially barred from JavaOne, we ran our own dog and pony show at the bar next door. The neighbors and social acquaintances presumably imagined my husband and I sold novelties out of the trunk of our car, and those people who had heard of us professionally told us we were "crazy," although being from the South, there is a distinction. When you're poor, you're crazy. When you're rich, you become "eccentric."
The high point in our public awareness was the day The Industry Billionaire, whose public persona channels Genghis Khan, that is if Will Ferrell played Genghis Khan with the sort of one-liners Will Ferrell would use (disclaimer, my husband has met Genghis; I have not. If I did, I would like to talk to him about his Japanese garden). Anyway, The Industry Billionaire let it be known through his flunkies, that he might Have An Interest in us, an interest that quickly waned once he learned that we had shortly thereafter sold ourselves to a smaller company. At this point The Industry Billionaire publicly congratulated himself on not having bought us (IBM and BEA then publicly congratulated themselves that they too "passed" on us, even though they never were real contenders). He speculated that he could just as easily rape our technology and toss it into the gutter without the inconvenience of having any dealings with such contempt-worthy beings as ourselves and Our New Patron.
They say the English 19th century novel ends with epithalamion; the 19th century French novel--the French being more cynical and worldly--although, rather amusingly, they imagine the English to be far more pervy than they are: witness le vice anglais--begins with epithalamion and goes downhill from there. The American 19th century novel, from what I've gleaned from my Totally Useless Education, was less concerned with social mobility (thank God we got out of the fucking village) than with the epic battle of Man vs. Nature (think Melville's "Moby Dick") and surviving amidst the flora and fauna of the New World. At any rate, my problem with the American 19th century novel, being a 21st century sort of American girl, is what if you reached the frontier 20 years too late? The frontier's already mostly carved up. You claim your territory, then you take a look at the plot of land adjacent to yours, the adjacent land-owner takes a look at the menacing rancher from across the river and before you know it, you wake up with a splitting hang-over after a shot-gun marriage in Vegas. There's blood everywhere and the lizards are crawling up the walls. Maybe I'm getting a little too Hunter S. Thompson "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," here. Maybe "Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman" is better? Hmmh?
Remembering JBoss
The difference between now and my bed-rest with the twins was a sensation, then, of germinating something, both biological and externally, with the fast growth of the company. The other day, a chance coincidence brought my husband back in touch with a figure from our previous life, a company that was an early on-site training customer. My husband didn't at first remember the name (nobody who knows him should ever be offended by this trait), but I eventually did because it was connected with that refreshing novelty of Getting Paid, something my upbringing had not quite led me to believe was possible in the context of independence, rebellion and Having Fun. Although, much of the early work was certainly mundane, much concerned with setting up trainings and Java User Group talks, arranging wires, signing checks, reading legal documents and approving contracts--that I laugh when I read about business school grads wanting to be entrepreneurs because I have a hard time reconciling that sort of risk-avoidant, professionally conventional stamp of social approval with getting your hands dirty with the unglamorous work and the professionally and socially dubious status of the old-fashioned entrepreneur (he who has no money and no patronage). So, we built a company in the shadow of a standard and a brand built by my husband's former employer, unofficially barred from JavaOne, we ran our own dog and pony show at the bar next door. The neighbors and social acquaintances presumably imagined my husband and I sold novelties out of the trunk of our car, and those people who had heard of us professionally told us we were "crazy," although being from the South, there is a distinction. When you're poor, you're crazy. When you're rich, you become "eccentric."
The high point in our public awareness was the day The Industry Billionaire, whose public persona channels Genghis Khan, that is if Will Ferrell played Genghis Khan with the sort of one-liners Will Ferrell would use (disclaimer, my husband has met Genghis; I have not. If I did, I would like to talk to him about his Japanese garden). Anyway, The Industry Billionaire let it be known through his flunkies, that he might Have An Interest in us, an interest that quickly waned once he learned that we had shortly thereafter sold ourselves to a smaller company. At this point The Industry Billionaire publicly congratulated himself on not having bought us (IBM and BEA then publicly congratulated themselves that they too "passed" on us, even though they never were real contenders). He speculated that he could just as easily rape our technology and toss it into the gutter without the inconvenience of having any dealings with such contempt-worthy beings as ourselves and Our New Patron.
They say the English 19th century novel ends with epithalamion; the 19th century French novel--the French being more cynical and worldly--although, rather amusingly, they imagine the English to be far more pervy than they are: witness le vice anglais--begins with epithalamion and goes downhill from there. The American 19th century novel, from what I've gleaned from my Totally Useless Education, was less concerned with social mobility (thank God we got out of the fucking village) than with the epic battle of Man vs. Nature (think Melville's "Moby Dick") and surviving amidst the flora and fauna of the New World. At any rate, my problem with the American 19th century novel, being a 21st century sort of American girl, is what if you reached the frontier 20 years too late? The frontier's already mostly carved up. You claim your territory, then you take a look at the plot of land adjacent to yours, the adjacent land-owner takes a look at the menacing rancher from across the river and before you know it, you wake up with a splitting hang-over after a shot-gun marriage in Vegas. There's blood everywhere and the lizards are crawling up the walls. Maybe I'm getting a little too Hunter S. Thompson "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," here. Maybe "Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman" is better? Hmmh?
Friday, July 4, 2008
SUV Sales Evaporate?
It is everywhere in the news and on every commentators lips. The absurdity once known as the Hummer is going the way of the Dinosaur. It went from hip to dead in less than a year. The first casualty of the great oil shock of 2008. I got to say this one was one of the icons of consumerism I most despised. It had become a social statement to have a hummer, they were perceived as "rich". They now look foolish at a 2008 gas station.
In other news in the FT this morning: Mini Cooper sales over take Hummer sales.
Sign of the times. Some of it welcomed!
In other news in the FT this morning: Mini Cooper sales over take Hummer sales.
Sign of the times. Some of it welcomed!
Should we teach our kids math?
Via email a reader asks
When I was 18, I had to choose between pursuing studies in Business or Science. My Dad was a business school major and wanted me to go into engineering. His rational was that "I would always have time to learn the business side of things, and that increasingly one needed to be fluent in the jargon of science and tech". I chose Math and Physics, got a long training in the hard sciences, never regretted it.
The social context is dependent on the country you find yourself in: In India, France, Spain, Germany and many others, Doctorates in hard sciences are very respected. To be sure a doctorate carries weight in the US, but I agree that the compensation does not usually follow.
Furthermore these are the reasons why I enjoyed and still enjoy being fluent in science.
1/ I get physical pleasure out of understanding things. My frontal lobe must be wired to my reward system. Understanding something releases dopamine in my system. I can get a deep sense of pleasure once I reach that "haha! moment". A lot of you in the field have this. Pleasure is primarely intellectual and chemically real. This you can pick up in a second in a person: is he enjoying the hard science, is he/she competitive about it. This is not specific to sciences, I have known people in sales and business development that had this trait.
2/ I benefited tremendously from the training in hard sciences. The math background makes you a stem cell of knowledge. Once you learn the jargon of differential calculus, you are not really impressed easily. A lot of the difficulty is in learning a new vocabulary. Every field develops its own jargon, but there is no complexity to it. Once you have that analytical approach, you can make a lot of progress in any field mildly technical. Nothing fazes you.
3/ Understanding the business side. That one is more ethereal. Surely doing business is about maximizing the money function, numbers and I encourage many of you to develop an understanding of all things accounting and finance. Get a handle on accounting first, it is easy, almost neat. It deals with numbers and it is really at the heart of business. Then finance and economics. Picking the business side of things up, through analytical rigor is a plus.
Overall I truly encourage you to encourage your little ones to not be afraid of scientific teachings. They provide a solid basis, a certain ease, and an intellectual rigor and that will serve them all their lives.
See you in 10 years :)
"Hi Marc,
This blog posting struck a particular chord with me as I am at a cross-roads in my career; i.e., in my experience this US economy does not seem to value (especially in the form of compensation) engineering education and experience as much as I believe it should. E.g., it seems many other professions that do not require nearly the longer term and more rigorous education investment and intellectual fortitude such as "business" degrees and sales are rewarded and respected far more greatly and these economics do not seem to make sense. As you mentioned, given that engineering is HARD to learn, what behavior are we encouraging? Should we encourage our children to get an engineering degree or a business degree? And if technology innovation is important to our progress as a country and civilization, are we in danger of losing our competitive edge?
Given your international perspective, I'm curious of your thoughts and whether you see this disparity in other countries or is it specific to the US?
Thanks again!"
When I was 18, I had to choose between pursuing studies in Business or Science. My Dad was a business school major and wanted me to go into engineering. His rational was that "I would always have time to learn the business side of things, and that increasingly one needed to be fluent in the jargon of science and tech". I chose Math and Physics, got a long training in the hard sciences, never regretted it.
The social context is dependent on the country you find yourself in: In India, France, Spain, Germany and many others, Doctorates in hard sciences are very respected. To be sure a doctorate carries weight in the US, but I agree that the compensation does not usually follow.
Furthermore these are the reasons why I enjoyed and still enjoy being fluent in science.
1/ I get physical pleasure out of understanding things. My frontal lobe must be wired to my reward system. Understanding something releases dopamine in my system. I can get a deep sense of pleasure once I reach that "haha! moment". A lot of you in the field have this. Pleasure is primarely intellectual and chemically real. This you can pick up in a second in a person: is he enjoying the hard science, is he/she competitive about it. This is not specific to sciences, I have known people in sales and business development that had this trait.
2/ I benefited tremendously from the training in hard sciences. The math background makes you a stem cell of knowledge. Once you learn the jargon of differential calculus, you are not really impressed easily. A lot of the difficulty is in learning a new vocabulary. Every field develops its own jargon, but there is no complexity to it. Once you have that analytical approach, you can make a lot of progress in any field mildly technical. Nothing fazes you.
3/ Understanding the business side. That one is more ethereal. Surely doing business is about maximizing the money function, numbers and I encourage many of you to develop an understanding of all things accounting and finance. Get a handle on accounting first, it is easy, almost neat. It deals with numbers and it is really at the heart of business. Then finance and economics. Picking the business side of things up, through analytical rigor is a plus.
Overall I truly encourage you to encourage your little ones to not be afraid of scientific teachings. They provide a solid basis, a certain ease, and an intellectual rigor and that will serve them all their lives.
See you in 10 years :)
Arson in Foreclosures
Arsons Follow Foreclosures, from Financial Armaggedon.
A slow deterioration of law and order.
``Home arsons follow foreclosure trends, with a lag,'' Quiggle said, pointing to an increase after the last housing slump when the number of blazes reached 116,600 in 1992 from 111,900 in 1990. ``We're facing a potential spike in arson like we've never seen before.''
A slow deterioration of law and order.
GM bankrupt according to Merril Analyst
One analyst doesn't make the weather, but comments such as "Bankruptcy is an option for GM" spark interest.
GM is about as American as the fourth of July.
GM is about as American as the fourth of July.
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