Saturday 3 November 2012

timetable or free-on-board

The Bundesrat (Germany’s upper house of the legislature) has voted to remove long-standing protections on the national railway network, the Deutsche Bahn, to allow competition for commuter and holiday travel from long-distance, inter-city bus and coach companies. After much debate and research, parliament, risking the displeasure of this established institution, determined that the virtual monopoly should be allowed to lapse, since private enterprise could offer travelers alternatives adhering to environmental standards, at a discount and with greater flexibility.

One quoted example was that with advance-planning and some luck, one can book a trip from Dusseldorf to Berlin from 69 € by train—currently, one’s only option, compared to a 28 € bus trip, a rate probably gotten without reservations. The train people naturally were not happy with this decision, but a healthy outside challenge may drive them to tighten up some service areas that have atrophied a bit—especially punctuality and overlording tariffs that keep increasing. The environmental hook, however, does bother me a bit, since bus-liners are as prone to traffic congestion and jams (Staus) and makes me think of the enlightened (and no less controversial choice) to allow these big rigs, giant trucks on the streets, because they eked out fuel efficiency with capacity—though no one wants these marauding beasts to hog their roads. Trains, I imagine, have already seen pretty big losses in terms of freight and cargo due to trucking.  The government has not stripped away all the railroads’ advantage, still limiting regional traffic for public transportation, but I want there to be sufficient measures left in place to ensure that the public train system is not scuttled by private concerns, like elsewhere and erstwhile, leaving unfavourable or under-performing routes without any kind of service.

four-square and eight-bit

Considering the estimable impact and pioneering influence the surprisingly simple and intuitive yet habit-forming diversion Tetris had on the video game landscape, it seems ironic that the concept and programming, built in turn off of earlier mathematical models and gaming traditions that go back to antiquity, Connect-Four or Penta (that glass bead game with the scroll for the playing area that they sold at Pier One), emerged not from the US or Japan but rather the Moscow Academy of Computer Sciences in 1984, spreading to Western markets prior to glasnost and faster than conventional diplomacy in just a matter of months. Did you know that tetrominoes fall in accordance with the laws of gravity, accelerating in proportion to the height of the stacks below?

The game does not speed up only due to advancing levels—it’s kind of an unsettling surprise, like not learning about the secret levels of Super Mario Brothers until years afterwards or that (supposedly) Duck Hunt is really a two-player game. Back when the notions of licensing, clones and copycatting were mostly unexplored and untried and there was not a sufficient language to articulate intellectual property, surely the author did not know what he was releasing and signing-away. The game is now ubiquitous, with variants and inspired plays, integrated into the standard quiver of distractions for telephones, key-fobs, greeting cards—but it is strange to think how technology might have been less ingratiating or progress hindered without the earlier platforms of Nintendo Game Boys and the like (because by 1989 many competitors also held distribution rights to different versions of Tetris for play on personal computers and home gaming systems, Nintendo developed a new hand-held console to get around rights issues), propelled to a large extent by that basic game and its catchy tune of the Russia folk song Korobeiniki (ะšะพั€ะพะฑะตะนะฝะธะบะธ).

footwear nomenclature


Friday 2 November 2012

simulacra, simulcast or a night at the opera

The Bavarian State Opera is offering this season, with an aim to expand its audience and nestle culture comfortably on the sofa, by premiering a live-feed and streaming video on the internet of its stage performances. This outreach initiative is at no cost for any viewer who cares to watch, unlike some other houses that charge a subscription fee, and quite a bit of enhanced production value is going into the making, with dozens of cameras and microphones and back-stage tours and interviews with the performers during intermission. Anything that one can assay alone and with divided attention of course does match the experience of the commitment and being part of an audience corralled as a fourth wall, but I think the efforts are laudable in themselves and will garner a good return for the stake and investment, and I plan to play along at home.
Although this installation is not part of the historic opera house in Munich but the State Opera of Saxony in Dresden, I thought it was a comical touch to put one of the world’s first “digital” clocks (with Roman numerals that scrolled by the minutes and hours) above the stage—I suppose so patrons could be discrete about wondering when the show would end, without having to dig out their pocket-watches. I do think it’s important that it be live, however, and an occasion for dressing-up—even if one is only going as far as the living-room. Opera was never meant to be elitist and inaccessible and was traditionally quite the opposite, but I think now people shy away from the commitment of time and would rather call it so. What do you think? Is this offering expanding the audience, like a pay-per-view match or post-game camaraderie, or is it like putting church on television and only mildly engaging?