Today is Jason's 50th birthday. Ten years ago, Aaron Cohen and I surprised Jason by rounding up as many Kottke.org guest hosts as we could find and taking over the site for the day.
If I'd planned further ahead, I would have done something similarly spectacular, like all of us (and there are even more guest hosts and friends-of-Kottke now) arriving in Vermont to take him on a party train to Montreal. (We need more party trains. We rented a party train -- technically just a private car -- for my wife Karen McGrane's 50th birthday, and it was amazing.) But we will just have to settle for this short solo tribute.
Jason runs the best blog on the planet, and he's been doing it for half his life. But blog posts rarely go viral any more, and Jason's style was never about controversy or provocation or any of the things that lead to virality, even novelty. Jason has cultivated an audience of dedicated readers who help make other things go viral.
I'm sure there are casual Kottke.org readers, but most of the ones I've encountered in my thirteen years writing for the site are unusually devoted to it, and to him as a writer and editor -- again, even though Jason himself does not do most of the things that inspire that kind of charismatic devotion.
Jason puts the internet first and keeps himself at arm's length. So you get peeks and pieces of his face and his character, but mostly it shows through his interests rather than his confessions.
I've been lucky that Jason's been my friend and counselor and frequent collaborator now for many years. And we're lucky to have him. We're lucky that he and a few others from the beginning of blogging/posting are holding it down for RSS and the open web. We're generationally lucky that so much of Gen X's contribution to this still evolving form has a steadfast representative -- even though again, Jason is not especially well-characterized by most of the stereotypes about Generation X!
We're lucky that as the fortunes of online advertising for independent sites have waxed and waned, Jason has still found a model that has let him keep doing what he does full-time. And we should celebrate that and keep it going. (It would make an excellent birthday gift.)
Ten years ago, when we took over the site for a day, we asked each of the guest hosts to say something about their favorite Kottke.org post. I wrote a short essay called "Computers Are For People," which riffed on a 2009 post Jason wrote called "One-Handed Computing with the iPhone". You can read both pieces to find out more about why September 27th is important to me, for reasons only tangentially to do with Jason. But it ends like this:
Jason is important to me because Jason is always writing about how technology is for human beings. He doesn't bang gavels and rattle sabres and shout "TECHNOLOGY IS FOR HUMAN BEINGS!" That's partly because Jason is not a gavel-banging, sabre-rattling sort of person. But it's mostly because it wouldn't occur to him to talk about it in any other way. It's so obvious.
The thing that tech companies forget — that journalists forget, that Wall Street never knew, that commenters who root for tech companies like sports fans for their teams could never formulate — that technology is for people — is obvious to Jason. Technology is for us. All of us. People who carry things.
People. Us. These stupid, stubborn, spectacular machines made of meat and electricity, friends and laughter, genes and dreams.
Happy birthday, Jason. I hope you're surrounded by people you love today. Here's to the next 50 years of Kottke.org.*
* It could be a family business! The Ochs-Sulzbergers did it! Why not Ollie or Minna? Dream big, kids.
Update: Oh man, thank you Tim! And also to the Swedish Chef! What a lovely and touching surprise. I was going to write a bday post this morning — something about how the only thing I want for my birthday is for you to support kottke.org with a membership, buy a Squiggle t-shirt, etc. — but it seems like Tim's got that covered. So, I'm gonna take the day and I'll see you back here tomorrow. I'm gonna get changed, grab my bike, and head out to the trails. 👋 -jason
P.S. You should check out Tim's new gig: he's producing a weekly newsletter about AI called The Batch.
In a nice example of accidental occupational surnames, land artist Nikola Faller travelled to a pair of European parks (in Croatia and Hungary) to rake fallen leaves into a variety of patterns. You can check out more of Faller's work, including the sand art he's most well-known for, on Instagram and Facebook.
Scientific American: How to Survive Mercury in Retrograde. "What does Mercury in retrograde have to do with electronics malfunctioning or social interactions taking a negative turn? Well, nothing."
Prince covered Radiohead's Creep at the Coachella music festival in 2008. The video got yanked due to copyright infringement but it's back up. For the moment anyway and perhaps forever...Prince's Twitter account linked to it. (via @anildash (who else??))
She has an intriguing origin point for today's afflictions: the New Deal. The first third of the book, which hurtles toward Donald Trump's election, is as bingeable as anything on Netflix. "Democracy Awakening" starts in the 1930s, when Americans who'd been wiped out in the 1929 stock market crash were not about to let the rich demolish the economy again. New Deal programs designed to benefit ordinary people and prevent future crises were so popular that by 1960 candidates of both parties were advised to simply "nail together" coalitions and promise them federal funding. From 1946 to 1964, the liberal consensus — with its commitments to equality, the separation of church and state, and the freedoms of speech, press and religion — held sway.
But Republican businessmen, who had caused the crash, despised the consensus. Richardson's account of how right-wingers appropriated the word "socialism" from the unrelated international movement is astute. When invoked to malign all government investment, "socialism" served to recruit segregationist Democrats, who could be convinced that the word meant Black people would take their money, and Western Democrats, who resented government protections on land and water. This new Republican Party created an ideology that coalesced around White Christianity and free markets.
Heffernan calls this first part of Richardson's book "the most lucid just-so story for Trump's rise I've ever heard". I'm in the midst of two other books right now (The Vaster Wilds & The Mountain in the Sea) but I might have to make room for a third.
You just have to admire a chart that casually purports to show every single thing in the Universe in one simple 2D plot. The chart in question is from a piece in the most recent issue of the American Journal of Physics with the understated title of "All objects and some questions".
In Fig. 2, we plot all the composite objects in the Universe: protons, atoms, life forms, asteroids, moons, planets, stars, galaxies, galaxy clusters, giant voids, and the Universe itself. Humans are represented by a mass of 70 kg and a radius of 50 cm (we assume sphericity), while whales are represented by a mass of 10^5 kg and a radius of 7 m.
The "sub-Planckian unknown" and "forbidden by gravity" sections of the chart makes the "quantum uncertainty" section seem downright normal — the paper collectively calls these "unphysical regions". Lovely turns of phrase all.
But what does it all mean? My physics is too rusty to say, but I thought one of the authors' conjectures was particularly intriguing: "Our plot of all objects also seems to suggest that the Universe is a black hole." Huh, cool.
There I Ruined It is fast becoming one of my favorite web delights — musician Dustin Ballard remixes and mashes beloved songs in an attempt to ruin them. The video embedded above features Eminem's Lose Yourself sung to the tune of the Super Mario Bros theme song...and it makes me laugh every time I watch it.
P.S. My idea for a song to ruin: the Happy Days theme song, but it just keeps repeating the days of the week ("Sunday Monday happy days / Tuesday Wednesday happy days...") in a loop, using the Shepard tone to (seemingly) keep the pitch ever-rising.
The Blood Book is handmade, folio-sized, with a handsome marbled endpaper and forty-three pages of exquisitely crafted decoupage. John Bingley Garland, the manuscript's creator, used collage techniques, excising illustrations from other books to assemble elegant, balanced compositions. Most of the source material is Romantic engravings by William Blake and his ilk, but there are also brilliantly colored flowers and fruits. Snakes are a favorite motif, butterflies another. A small bird is centered on every page. The space between the images is filled with tiny hand-written script that reads like a staccato sermon. "One! yet has larger bounties! to bestow! Joys! Powers! untasted! In a World like this, Powers!" etc.
The book's reputation, however, rests on a decorative detail that overwhelms: To each page, Garland added languid, crimson drops in red India ink, hanging from the cut-out images like pendalogues from a chandelier. Blood drips from platters of grapes and tree boughs, statuaries and skeletons. Crosses seep, a cheetah drools, angels dangle bloody sashes. A bouquet of white chrysanthemums is spritzed.
To be clear, Garland's blood is not that of surgery or crime or menses, but of religious iconography. He obviously intended the blood to represent Christ's own.
The Blood Book are strikingly modern; as PDR states, Garland uses "techniques usually dated to Cubism in the early twentieth century" to make his collages. I love running across seemingly out-of-time objects like this.
