Into The Sun - Away From The Sun

My grandfather, who was a mainstay of the Sheffield Photographic Society back in the day, used to say that one should never shoot into the sun. All sorts of bad things would happen: blown-out skies, over-dark shadows and the like. However, sometimes it works.

The Hill Garden and Pergola, Hampstead Heath

Get off the 210 bus at the Inverforth House stop. The house itself

is privately-owned, and the Garden and Pergola are at the back of it, but outside its walls. Walk down a path at the end of the House's walls and after no more than thirty yards is on your right is a gate that opens into the Hill Garden. Walk too fast and you'll go right by it. If you reach a path at the bottom of the incline, you've gone too far. The path will take you to the lower terrace of the garden, and on the left is a small building with a spiral staircase that leads to the upper terrace.   

It's well-worth the visit, though on the day Sis and I went, they were repairing something and had closed the Pergola itself because of "safety". 

We think the last photo is of is four yew trees grafted onto a common trunk and then left to grow and be shaped over, you know, fifty years or something. Gardens like this need the long view.

What is Jazz (Again): Laufey, Adam Neely, Andy Edwards

What is jazz, and why does it matter? Can we define jazz in such a way that it does matter if something is or is not jazz?

That's effectively what the National Endowment for the Arts did back in the 1970's when it decided that jazz was America's Classical Music, and started handing out grants and awards. Stanley Crouch and Wynton Marsalis locked the NEA into a definition of jazz as a) swing, b) blues, c) improvisation, d) in a pre-1965 style. Here's the list of NEA Jazz Master Fellows since it started https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/NEA_Jazz_Masters. All great players, all started before 1965, which includes Ornette Coleman, Sun Ra and Cecil Taylor, who are avant-garde. Nope, there aren't many white names on the list, but then that's probably statistically representative of jazz musicians.

So maybe jazz is whatever the NEA says it is, and they have the money and publicity to prove it. In the same way the teachers at Berklee, Juilliard and all the other jazz schools get to say what jazz is, because they set the syllabus and award the credentials for a "degree in jazz". Both institutions adopt the Crouch-Marsalis definition.

Never argue with institutional doctrine: nobody is going to give up their income and status over a point of logic or a matter of fact. Change the subject: hit 'em where they ain't.

Let's do that. Because the heck with institutions. 

For Adam Neely, well-trained graduate of Berklee, jazz is a well-defined cultural practice, gate-kept by academics, the NEA, and some music industry figures. For Andy Edwards, West Midlands drumming legend and epic You Tube ranter, jazz is about creativity and technical accomplishment in the service of freedom and experiment. Which is why he fights for the word.

Sir Karl Popper told us not to fight over words. Fight for your right to party, but not over whether to call it a party.

The party is individual improvisation while playing as a member of a band, within self-imposed limits that might be about chord progressions, modal changes, tunes, or the style of a genre. That genre might be the Blues, Hard Bop, Be Bop, Cool, Modal, Time No Changes, Flamenco, or whatever else (even ghastly chord-scale).

It's about developing your own voice, and being able to find others whose voices fit with yours; it's about producing music that (some) people appreciate and want to hear, without turning into a hack. The material doesn't need to be original, but the expression needs to be sincere: a tribute band can do this, if they love the music they are playing.

Between (about) 1930 and (about) 1966, nobody partied as hard as a handful of men who gave us some of the most sublime, hip, and swing-ing-est music ever played. From Louis Armstrong through Lester Young and Charlie Parker to Miles Davis, Gerry Mulligan, John Coltrane and Charles Mingus, to name a few. It was the chosen music of the misfit, the hip, and people who wanted to stay up late drinking. It was a fabulous moment, but it passed, as all fabulous moments must do. And we have it on record.

Does it matter what "jazz" is? If you're after that sweet NEA moolah, or the recognition of a bunch of old guys and academics, or playing at venues or for records labels which are snobby about these things, then yes. Otherwise NO, it does not. If you're a professional musician, what matters is making money and enjoying what you're being paid to do. If you're an amateur, what matters is that you can have a good time playing with some people who aren't totally weird. And if you're a, uh, home musician, what matters is that you get out of playing whatever it is you want to get out of it.

Sheerness

My Nana (grandmother on father's side) lived in a tiny terraced house about a hundred yards from the seafront in Sheerness. Sis and I used to spend a week in the summer with her when we was young, while my parents did whatever parents do when they drop the kids off with the grandparents. Nana had a background that stopped one generation into North London, Mr Nana was a mystery she never talked about, but he must have left early, because my father couldn't remember him well. She had dark olive skin, and paid half her bills on her winnings at cards. Or that's what everyone told me.

The main employer on the island must be the port, through which a large proportion of imported cars arrive. Also fruit and meat. And timber. There isn't a lot of industry, the tourism is mostly day-trippers during the school holidays, and there is one large school. I think back in Nana's day, the kids went to school on the Sittingbourne bus.

Look up "backwater" in the dictionary and you'll see a picture of Sheerness.

Anyway, we went there recently (no matter your route, you will change at Sittingbourne for the shuttle service). The pleasant promenade with its open steps from the street has been replaced with a nasty lump of concrete, and the amusement arcade half-way along the walk into the town along promenade has all but disappeared. Nobody was selling candyfloss, but we might have come too late for that. There were a couple of bunches of lads playing football, and a lot of old people (which now means 60+ but in bad nick from hard lives) hanging around the streets having old people arguments. Also a couple of girls taking their younger sisters out in the pram ("That must be her sister, right" - The Eels). The seafront looked almost exactly as it did (cough, splutter) years ago, except a) the Council have let the tidebreaks rot, and b) on some of the beaches have been turned into hump-and-ditch "defences", whereas in Nana's day, all the beaches sloped into the water.

There were some geezers fishing, a few people walking and some cycling, but all were locals.

The Robert Montgomery is still out there somewhere, still allegedly capable of producing the largest conventional explosion the UK has or will ever see, but if there was any sign of it, I'd forgotten.

Across the river is Southend and its extension down to Shoeburyness. Not only across the river, but also in another economy.

Data is Expensive, Conclusions Are Cheap: How To Fix Research Fraud

It's probably just my echo chamber, but I've seen a number of YT's on scientific fraud recently. This does not shake my faith in Quantum Mechanics, because this isn't happening in real science. It's happening in psychology (evolutionary or otherwise), behavioural economics and other such pseudo-subjects with lousy replicability, and a tendency to pass off small samples of undergraduates as sufficient data. I've read my share of pop-science from these people, and while I've been amused and intrigued, I've never been convinced. The samples are too small. The conclusions are too darn cute, and fit way too well into the current academic Goodthink. Also a lot of it is just plain wrong.

What does one do about all this nonsense research?

Realise that statistical analyses, summaries, graphics, and conclusions are cheap.

It's the data that matters.

Any research project funded by the taxpayer must make its raw data publicly available, along with a detailed description of how the data was obtained.

With no controls over access. In CSV format so we don't have to write complicated scripts to read it.

And at no charge. We already paid with our taxes.

Give us the data, and we will draw our own conclusions, thank you. Research will become valuable because it produces data that people use.

Not because some publicity-savvy academic produces an eye-catching claim.

The infamous thirty-undergraduate sample will simply vanish.

Researchers who provide lots of dimensions of analysis that can be correlated with ONS data will get readers, those who use a few that maybe can't be matched against anything else will be passed by.

It works like this.

Hypothesis: children from single-parent families do better at school than children from two-parent families. 'Do better' means more and better grades at GCSE. So get a sample of single-parent households with kids who just did their GCSE's and another of dual-parent households with kids who just did their GCSEs. Same size, as there are plenty of both.

Recognise that the initial question is attractive but silly. It's the kind of question a single-purpose charity might ask, and if it liked the answer, would use in their next fund-raising round.

"Single-parent homes" are not all the same. Neither are "dual-parent homes". Families are all different. And they are an effect, not a cause. Parental behaviour, sibling examples, household economics, the location, the religion and the culture are causes.

Here's your chance to get some data-kudos.

Get a decent sample size. 10,000 or so of each.

Get the results for the kids. Grade by subject. With the exam board. No summarising or grouping. I've got a computer to do that if I want it.

And get the number of GCSEs the kids were entered for, because Head Teachers game the stats like crazy. While you're doing that, find out how else the Heads game the stats.

Get the details about those households. Age, religion, nationality, gender, political allegiance if any, car owner, rent / mortgage, highest level of education reached by parent(s), subject of degree, employed / self-employed / unemployed / retired / not able to work, occupation if working, postcode (all of it), place of work, large or small employer, private or public sector. Income and sources, expenses and spending patterns. Savings. Help from relatives. Drug use. Exercise regimes.

How long had the parents been divorced before the GCSE exams? How long had they been co-habiting or married? What are the childcare arrangements? What are the visitation rights? How often are these denied? Has the divorced partner lost touch with their children? Are the divorced parents still co-operating with each other over raising the children? Has the custodial parent moved home? How far away are the parents from each other? Was a family member in jail when the kids were taking the exams? Is the father in the dual-household away a lot? Do any of the parents work unsociable hours? Do they use daycare?

See how that data could be interesting to certain groups? Even if they weren't interested in GCSE results?

Did the parents arrange private tutoring? Help their children with their homework? Do the children have long-term health problems? Did they have health problems at the time of the exams? Were they able to revise? What is the school's record in the league tables?

You get the idea. Ask a wide range of detailed questions to cover the vast complexity of human life. Notice when a colleague demurs at something that allows the data to show the influence of (enter taboo subject here). Find somewhere else they can be useful and send them there. Do the same to yourself. The question you resist the most is the one everyone wants answered.

Test the questions. Test the interview process and the online questionnaire (if you must). Do A/B layout and question-order tests. Learn and make adjustments.

Now go out and ask the questions. Tabulate the answers. No leaving anyone out because they missed a bunch of answers. I can deal with that in my analysis. No corrections for this or that. No leaving out the answers to some questions because of "sensitivity" or "mis-interpretation".

That's where you put in the effort. If too many people give incomplete answers, go recruit some more people. Comparing those who gave complet(er) answers to those who didn't to see if there's a pattern.

Put the raw results up on Github or wherever. Along with the questionnaire, the times and dates of each interview, and a video of the whole thing if possible. I want to see their body language to judge which questions are likely to have, uh, aspirational answers. (Okay, that's asking a lot.)

I'll do my own analyses.

The researchers can publish a summary and conclusion if they want. With a keep-it-simple press release for the science journalists. The rest of us will dig into the data and draw our own conclusions.

The people who don't do data analysis can get some popcorn and follow the disputes.

Data financed by private money? Make it public or we get to treat it as self-serving.

Faced with some conclusion about medicines or human behaviour, ask if the raw data and research protocols are publicly available. If the answer is NO, or "you have to pay", dismiss the conclusion, because there is no evidence that you can judge for yourself. Without the data, we have to take their word for it or not, which means we need to judge their competence, honesty and career pressures. That makes it about the researchers, and it isn't. They may be insightful and honest, or they may be academic hacks. You can't judge that either. What you can judge is that they are hiding their data. If they are, it fails the smell test.

37 Great Portland Street

   (This is what's known in the trade as a "deadpan photo") 

 I did look at the chairs in IKEA, at Wembley, just for the pleasure of driving on the slowest parts of the North Circular. I have one of their Stradmon wing-back chairs, and since then they seem to have been through one cost-cutting round too many. Everything is one of four slightly muddy shades of grey (except the yellow and red Stradies), the material feels cheap, and the cushioning feels like it might give up too quickly. So I went back to the semi-fancy furniture shop, because looking for value is one thing, but being cheap is another, and I had one more round of sitting on all the chairs and then ordering two of the same swivel chair, one navy, one black. How much did they cost? Less than my hi-fi amplifier, more than the TV and DVD player.  

Southend Pier

(Southend Pier is the longest in the UK, because the Thames Estuary is very wide and very flat, and the pier was to disembark passengers from the London boats. There's a train from the land to the end of the Pier. It's all pretty neat and way more chill than Brighton Pier.)

The Big Day was calling the council to come collect the bed. I have to get it into the front garden, so it's a good thing the mattress is a bit flimsy (though "orthopaedic") and the base is two boxes made out of wood that takes the weight but not if you stood on it directly. The decline in the quality of our lives is hidden in such details. I had to clear the hallway to get the bits down - because I was Thinking Like A Designer and planning ahead. I moved the bases and mattress into the hallway the previous evening, and woke up at 06:00 the next day to wrangle them into the garden, covering them with some plastic against a light shower. They collect between 07:00 and 15:00, and showed up at 11:00. I spent the afternoon clearing the back bedroom and laying plastic sheeting over the fitted carpet, before laying sheets over the plastic. Because I was going to put a second coat of white over the walls and ceilings. I'm not really a pro, but I have learned some of the tricks.