Monday, 29 June 2020

Photographs I'm Printing (12)



Olympus OM-10 Kodak colour film scanned and printed on Canon MG7550

Nice. The town. The only disappointment is that it has a  pebble beach. This is looking towards the Castel Plage and Castle Hill. I have a feeling this was taken with an 18mm lens I had, hence the distorted perspective.

Thursday, 25 June 2020

It's not what you know about me that matters. It's what you do about what you know about me.

It's not what you know about me that matters. It's what you do about what you know about me.

I don't mind being tracked, monitored, surveilled, recorded, pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered.

I mind anything being done with what they learn.

Especially by someone with powers they should never have been granted by legislation that should never have been passed.

That is a lot of people in central and local government, the Police, Intelligence services, the Armed Services and all sorts of quangos.

What I mind is that people who should need a Judge's permission to enter my house, can come storming in without permission. They can freeze my bank accounts, and lose me my job. All without the Court's permission and my chance at a defence.

And when it's all over and if I have proven my innocence, I have no-one to claim against.

All those people should be personally liable for the damage their mistakes and bad judgements cause to their victims' lives. Social workers, policemen, spies, inspectors of all kinds... anyone whose word will be taken in preference to mine and to my detriment. They should have to buy insurance against those claims, and they should not be granted any powers unless they have that insurance.

But they don't have to, and that's what I mind.

Monday, 22 June 2020

Photographs I'm Printing (11)



Olympus OM-10 Kodak colour film scanned and printed on Canon MG7550

Somewhere between Lynton and Porlock Weir (I think), on the cliff side of the A39. There are some steep and winding roads there. I thought the sign had just the right amount of deadpan whimsy.

Thursday, 18 June 2020

Facial Recognition Officially A Loss-Maker

Arvind Krishna, CEO of IBM, has decided to get out of the facial recognition business. His letter to the US Congress waffled about advancing racial equality. That's an utter non-sequiter, of course. What he meant was this **** is a potential litigation money-pit and we want no part of it. Or if he didn't, you may want to consider shorting IBM stock.

Facial recognition software is widely available. There's a Python library for it. It uses a package called dlib. Apple has facial recognition software. Facebook has its own algorithms, as does Google. A recent study by the NSIT included 189 algorithms from 99 developers. That survey concluded that facial recognition software works just fine for white folks, and pretty well for Chinese, Koreans and Japanese. It totally sucks when identifying African women, half of whom it thinks are men. The darker the skin, the less well it works.

In the 2011 UK Census, 87% of the UK population weas White, 3% Black, 4.2% from the India and Pakistan, 2% were mixed and the remainder Arabs or Far Eastern Asias. In Newham, however, only 29% of the population is White (no, that's not a typo). That's a lot of poor identification. In 33 districts of England the proportion of Whites is below 80%, and those are the populous ones.

The concern is that a local council or police force will buy a cheap algorithm, some second-rate cameras, and use a mid-range scanner to load up their rogue's gallery to the database. The result will be a mass of false identifications, accusations and arrests, disproportionately affecting people with black or brown skin. The council or police force will do what all public bodies do when they make a dumb decision, which is double-down. Next thing you know, half your council tax is going on out-of-court settlements to not-actually-minorities-in-that-postcode represented by solicitors who play golf with the councillors. Or whatever those people do.

The world is full of unaccountable bureaucrats with way too much power. Giving them facial recognition would be dumb. Not as dumb as locking down your country, but you know, half-way there. We should be concerned. So should anyone supplying this stuff: it should not be sold to just anybody. Especially to anybody who can fine us, lock us up, and put us on registers we should not be on. Which is pretty much any Government department or agency. Of course the Spies will have the really good stuff (at least I hope they do) but the Spies can't lock anyone up. At least in this country.

If IBM thinks it can't beat the ethinic-facial-recognition problem, it's a good bet that no-one else can. Unless the people at IBM aren't as smart as they used to be. Facial recognition is a nice toy for social media, and a useful tool for organisations with large photo libraries of public figures. However, the real money is in security and surveillance, and IBM have decided that there wasn't enough to justify the risks.

Monday, 15 June 2020

Photographs I'm Printing (10)



Olympus OM-10 Kodak colour film scanned and printed on Canon MG7550

Taken in 1992 or so when I was working for AT&T. I think this is Grand Central Station. The blur makes it special, and I'm not even sure I was intending to take a photo of the guy with the pose and the umbrella. He was just put there by the Gods of Photography.

Thursday, 11 June 2020

Emile Zola, Rich Cooper and Why The Gyms Are Closed But MacDonalds Is Open

These thoughts were triggered by this heartfelt rant from Rich Cooper

 

 Go to 5:19, where he achieves take-off.
...more people die from diabetes and cardiovascular disease, but we're still serving hamburgers, and frikkin' weed, and alcohol, and cigarettes... why can't I go to the gym and throw some weights around, why can't I get on my bike and ride through the trails... <\blockquote> I started to riff on this, but couldn't quite get it right. I'm reading Emile Zola's The Belly of Paris at the moment. It's a bit of a slog, with great chunks of descriptions of food between the dramas amongst assorted women traders in Les Halles, which latter I could care less about. I stumbled across this...
'Cain,' [Claude] said, 'was a Fat man and Abel was a Thin one. Ever since that first murder, the big eaters have sucked the lifeblood out of the small eaters... We're Thin, you and I. Just look at us and tell me if we take up much room in the sunlight, with stomachs as flat as ours... It's not funny. I know I suffer from being Thin. If I were Fat, I would paint happily, have a nice studio and sell my pictures for their weight in gold. But, instead of that, I'm Thin; and I have to wear myself out to get the Fat to take notice... Fat people, you see, hate Thin people so much they have to drive them out of their sight, with a bit or a kick.
Normies are Fat People. Rich Cooper and I and many of our ilk are Thin People. Thin people live clean. Living clean? Exercise, eat right, work hard, only drink on social occasions, no drugs. Stay away from crazy people, and from losers, users and abusers. Don't run up consumer debt, don't buy things you don't need with money you don't have to impress people you don't like. Save money and pay attention to your investments. Find the cultural, intellectual, artistic or sporting activities that you like. Don't bear grudges, avoid drama and resentment. And only take a STEM degree.

Fat people chow down on hamburgers, get wasted on weed, drink themselves dizzy, smoke themselves hoarse, binge-watch vacuous Netflix, and run up debt buying expensive meals, new SUV's and phones for the kids. The rest of the world should hang out with the losers they went to school with, have sex with people with STD's, have kids with men who aren't going to pay for them, leave school early or do useless Liberal Arts degrees. They should get angry, fall in love with the wrong people, seek out indignation, drama and confrontation, avoid responsibility, cheat, lie, mislead, turn up late or not at all, bear grudges unto the grave, marry badly, divorce worse, let the TV be the baby-sitter, and take their yowling children onto ten-hour flights. And grow soft and fat and die of heart disease and diabetes.

The world is run by and for the benefit of Fat people. That's why gyms are closed but there are traffic-jolting queues for a drive-thru MacDonalds a mile or so away.

Monday, 8 June 2020

Photographs I'm Printing (9)

Olympus OM-10 Kodak colour film scanned and printed on Canon MG7550

The West Somerset railway runs between Minehead and Bishops Lydeard. Stand on the hill above Minehead (middle right of the photograph) and watch a steam locomotive puffing along the line beside the Severn and you will transported back to the 1950's. You can read the history here.

Thursday, 4 June 2020

The Future Has Been Obscured

What does the future look like? Asking that question now is very different from asking it even six months ago. Six months ago, nobody would have thought that the majority of the world's population could be willingly confined to its homes for an indefinite duration, that businesses and shops would be shut down, grandparents denied visits from grandchildren, and that the UK Government would be paying people in the private sector a majority chunk of their salary for doing nothing.

I can no longer make predictions. This is because I am a sensible person. I know, along with most of the world's senior medical people and many of its doctors, that SARS-Cov-2 is an acute respiratory disease with minimal mortality (in the off-camera words of Russia's coronavirus Tsar) that does not justify quarantining us for our own good. I know nobody is at any more risk of anything unpleasant in a world with SARS-Cov-2 than they are in a world without it. The flu has killed more people this year. I have no idea how anyone can know that, and carry on with propaganda based on the idea that SARS-Cov-2 is so uniquely dangerous that it justifies us spending the rest of our lives two metres from each other, until, that is, we are all vaccinated.

I have no idea how the creatives at MullenLowe, who brought us the CoronaPropaganda, can look at themselves in the mirror. They set out to scare and confuse the British public, and they succeeded. In two years' time, they will be denying their participation in it, because they will be those bastards who lied to us. I have no idea how the print media could take its share of the £35m advertising budget, and provide many millions more in propaganda dressed up as news. Nor do I know how dozens of obscure academics could have allowed themselves to be used as instruments of propaganda, making unjustified predictions about the scale and virulence of SARS-Cov-2, and claiming that we might be living with restrictions for the rest of our lives. As if this was something real.

I am dismayed by the way that commentators, from preppers to Remainers, absorbed the quarantine into their views. The same way they are doing with the riots in the USA as I write this. They know the riots are mostly looters and other semi-organised Usual Suspects. Looting is not a political act. The commentators want to make sense of this. They can't.

Mistakes have no interpretation and make no sense, except as a mistake, a sign that someone did not know what they were doing, was short of the facts, listening to the wrong people. Mistakes tell us nothing about the world, except that it has people who are temporarily dumb. Persisting in the mistake has no other explanation but moral failure and practical difficulty. As the Swedes realised, quarantines of the healthy are too easy to get into, and too difficult to get out of. Interpretations of the quarantine, or of the riots, are futile.

There is nothing to understand.

Life does not go back to anything remotely like normal until we can get as close to each other in public as we need to. Because nobody is going to queue outside a supermarket, let alone a high street cafe, in the cold and rain in October and into winter. And nobody is going to open an office if they know only two people can get into the elevators at any given time, and nobody is going to go to the office if they know the queue for those elevators is going to stretch out into the street, in that same cold and rain.

Government propaganda says that SARS-Cov-2 is a uniquely dangerous virus against which we must be defended at all costs. That isn't true, but it's the Government Propaganda, and in politics, Propaganda is Truth, when you want it to be. The Teachers' Unions are going to hang the Government out to dry on that. Unless the creatives at MullenLowe pull off a staggering counter-propaganda coup before mid-August, the teachers will get their 15-pupil classrooms through 2021, and that will change the way parents organise themselves, and a lot will follow from that. I have no feeling for how that plays out, and it does not affect me.

The managers of large office estates will hibernate their buildings until the Government either abandons social distancing or gets it written into the Building Regulations. Nobody is going to spend money adapting to vague guidelines that might be abandoned sometime in 2021. That means laptop-jobbers are staying at home until at least the start of November, and a lot of them, especially in Zone 6 and beyond, won't be coming back to the office no matter what happens. We can do our jobs just fine from home. Less money for the railway companies; less money for the cafes and shops in London. I've lived the suburban working life: it's okay, but it needs visits to Town like bread needs yeast.

I could set out scenarios based on any number of variables, but it would not help. Scenario planning does not work when too many of the variables are on-off and don't have known odds of happening. Will the Government take away all the restrictions when it stops paying furlough? Will it allow 15-pupil classrooms for 2020/21? Will the crowds come back fast enough for the shops to open for the crowds to come back? As I write, shops are opening in central London but no-one is going into work to buy anything. Scenario planning assumes the environment is operating broadly sensibly in pursuit of broadly sensible goals. The Government is the only environment that matters now, and its goals are unknown, except get-out-of-this-mess-so-we-have-a-chance-at-the-next-election.

I do know that whatever happens, the Great British Public will go along with it. For whatever reasons they have, from virtue-signalling, to simple-minded faith, to a cynical go-along-to-get-along, to the despairing what-freaking-choice-do-I-have? That last is my position. My job lets me see where their money is going, and it's going where it would always go, except when the quarantine stops it. As if that makes it business-as-usual. There will be no legal challenges from companies or trade associations, no photogenic women with deep-pocketed backers to mount legal challenges, and no public disobedience. Because all it is at the moment is a bunch of inconveniences. After October, if the redundancies do not hit, we will go on dealing with the nonsense; if the redundancies do hit, everyone will have much bigger problems.

My guess is that the economy in 2021 will be about the size it was in 2005, but it will look and feel like the much smaller economy of 2000. About three to four million jobs will go, especially in tourism, retail, hospitality and catering. So it's a good thing those sectors employ a disproportionate number of non-UK workers. The EU economic migrants will go home, as the Aussies and Kiwis did in the Oughties when the music stopped. The efforts of many businesses to startup in late 2020 will be a dead cat bounce. Half of them will close within six months, suffocated by Covid loans, unchanged high rents and business rates, and reduced turnover from people who, now that they are back at work, have not got the time to queue. More bankrupt stock for the bottom-feeders to sell on Amazon.

All sorts of things might change. But I have no sense of what. I have never looked into the future and not even been able to see the background.

Monday, 1 June 2020

Photographs I'm Printing (8)


Olympus OM-10 Kodak ASA 100 colour film

Tomatoes, basil leaf and fennel. On the ground in the Cours Selaya at Nice as the market was closing. I used to go there on the first May Bank Holiday back in the Nineties and early Oughties when the girlfriend and I improving our lot in life. I haven't been for an age: it has probably not changed and yet will feel completely different. And I did not arrange a single leaf.