I am a big science fiction fan and have seen many online claims about Musk, Altman, and Bezos being shaped by reading pulpy sci-fi novels into becoming "technocratic libertarians," as discussed in the Techcrunch interview with historian Jill Lepore. I have to ask: Where's the evidence?
Lepore, in her response to TechCrunch's Anthony Ha, says "I guess Bezos is a big Robert Heinlein fan" which hardly sounds conclusive. That is followed by a lot of back-and-forth talk about Asimov and other science fiction thinkers.
No one is disputing that these billionaires didn't read science fiction. One journalist writing about Amazon noted that the only work of fiction on Bezos' office bookshelf in the early days was by Larry Niven, the author of Ringworld. Musk took an invented word from Asimov ("grok," which means to understand) and applied it to an AI in his social media business. He also likes building rockets and a business built on space exploration.
But so what? I read Heinlein and Niven and Asimov when I was young, too, along with a bunch of great works by Delaney and Wolfe as well as pulpier stuff by James P. Hogan and Ben Bova. Does that make me and millions of other science fiction fans technocratic libertarians? If not, why do people regularly point to science fiction as the source of these three men's libertarian leanings?
We've moved way past "magic bullet" theory of mass media -- the discredited idea that a media message triggers an identical response across anyone seeing it.
Maybe people like reading science fiction for the stories, the settings, and the speculation, and nothing more. It might influence them to get excited about space, but so can watching the broadcast of a Space Shuttle launch or pictures from Voyager 2 as it passed Saturn. To go from "reading science fiction" to "liking space" to "turning into a technocratic libertarian" is a major stretch.
A software engineer, Nelson, has some opinions about AI-generated images in blog posts:
"I have a growing hatred for AI-generated images in blogs. It makes me wonder if the text in the blog posts is AI-generated to some extent. It’s always disappointing seeing these images in blogs run by individuals. I expect this from corporate blogs but not indie blogs."
I get the frustration with AI-generated imagery on blog posts. On LinkedIn in particular, I will block people who post particularly obnoxious cartoon-like images alongside their (probably AI-generated) professional insights.
But I think Nelson is missing the root cause of the problem. It's incentives that have led to this state of affairs, not the AI image tools.
Part of the problem is many bloggers think an image is *required* for every post. This is reinforced by algorithms which favor such posts. This, in turn, drives bloggers to the easiest/fastest sources of free images – the AI image generators in Gemini, ChatGPT, Canva, and so on.
The "featured image" in content management platforms like Wordpress is what gets shown on the index page, in shared social posts, and other contexts. And certainly, the algorithms favor such posts over pure text posts, even if the text content in the spartan post happens to be far superior.
There are other factors at play, too.
Many bloggers are lazy, some are severely time constrained, a few are fearful of legal repercussions associated with copying images off the Internet, and a majority are creatively or technically incapable of making their own images to include on a personal blog post.
For people of a certain age, "Billboard charts" is synonymous with fame. Basically, if your band or record or composition appeared on one of the Billboard charts tracking album or single releases, you are part of pop music history, even if it was #99 on the Billboard Hot 100 or a one-hit wonder on the Adult Contemporary chart in September of 1986.
What can explain pop artists re-appearing on the Billboard charts after a long hiatus? In a discussion of late-20th century pop music trends, there was a comment from a younger person, expressing surprise about early 60s crooner Frankie Valli showing up more than a decade after his last appearance, when Billboard mostly featured disco, "AOR" (album-oriented rock), and New Wave:
The fact that Valli topped the charts again in 1978 with “Grease” still boggles my mind.
Reading this, I thought: Not if you were living through the 1950s nostalgia revival which was going strong at the time and lingered through the early 80s.
50s nostalgia was everywhere. It was on TV (Happy Days and Sha Na Na), the movies (American Graffiti, Porky's) and the radio. Not only were there retro musical acts like The Stray Cats, there were retro projects by established artists returning to the music they grew up with, such as Robert Plant's The Honeydrippers as well as individual songs by 70s stars like Queen's "Crazy Little Thing Called Love."
By the mid 80s, the 50s nostalgia trend had mostly faded away in the larger pop culture sphere. There were still movies about the 50s, but they tended to be serious stories or biopics as opposed to Baby Boomers reliving youthful times.
In the music arena, the Stray Cats and a few newer bands like Reverend Horton Heat and Guana Batz carried the 50s torch, but on a much smaller stage, and maybe dialed ahead a few years to the early 60s.
Billy Joel's "For The Longest Time" and Robert Plant were two of the last major acts to attempt to surf the 50s retro wave. When I saw Plant at the Worcester Centrum in 1985, The Honeydrippers segment at the end of the set felt silly and forced. The legions of fans wearing Zoso t-shirts would have much rather liked an obscure Led Zeppelin track.
But then again, this was the era of Payola 2.0, when record company executives could sideline heavy metal fans and pretend long-haired rockers wanted to listen to "Sea of Love." Of course, no one wanted to hear it. Nostalgia rock faded to the margins, and people mostly forgot the late 70s revival.
Rich people buying media properties or getting involved in adjacent media businesses is not necessarily a bad thing. We've seen some great things come out of visionary artists such as Oprah (OWN, Oprah's Book Club) but I would like to talk about local media businesses ... specifically author Stephen King quietly helping local broadcast media in Maine for decades.
You've probably heard about super rich businessmen from tech and finance and biopharma purchasing marquee media brands to extend their influence or fulfill other needs. Amazon titan Jeff Bezos buying The Washington Post. Biotech billionaire Patrick Soon-Shiong purchasing the Los Angeles Times. John Henry and The Boston Globe. The Facebook early employee who bought The New Republic. These efforts seldom end well. The purchase of the brands is often described in altruistic terms, but the real goal is to exercise influence or live out some sort of media mogul fantasy.
Importantly, despite their business chops, these gurus from other industries are shockingly bad at understanding the fickle needs of media audiences, developing great creative talent, or recognizing the intangibles that lie at the heart of all great art and media. They can't help themselves from forcing their views onto the creative teams and final product. They assume that quantitative insights always trump creative decisions, which invariably leads to cloying, shallow media experiences and disenchanted audiences who don't stick around. Quoting Le Mondefrom June 2024:
The Post has lost half its audience, with 50 million unique visitors by the end of 2023, compared with 101 million in 2020, while its subscriber base has fallen from 3 million to 2.5 million, according to the New York Times. It accumulated losses of $77 million (€71.7 million) last year.
Author Stephen King is different. Decades ago, he got involved in local broadcasting in Maine. This was not a money-making gambit, or an attempt to exercise political power. Zone Corp. and WZON in central Maine are not reaching millions of people or serving as power levers in major coastal cities. King did it because he loved rock and roll radio, and he recognized that the airwaves were the lifeblood of far-flung rural communities and the spirit of the Great State of Maine:
“While radio across the country has been overtaken by giant corporate broadcasting groups, I’ve loved being a local, independent owner all these years,” King said. “I’ve loved the people who’ve gone to these stations every day and entertained folks, kept the equipment running, and given local advertisers a way to connect with their customers. Tabby and I are proud to have been a part of that for more than four decades.”
He's winding down his broadcasting activities, but he should be applauded for what he's done. King's investments in local radio stations were investments in local communities and small businesses in Maine, subsidized by his own global media empire. Good on him and wife Tabitha King for keeping them going for 40+ years.
I would love to see a new generation of successful creatives get more involved in local media businesses in New England and further afield. It could be broadcast outlets, online journalism, performance venues, or other projects. There are a few other examples that spring to mind such as "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" author Jeff Kinney's bookstore and downtown revitalization project in Plainville, Mass. But there's a lot of room for other successful creatives to help.
I discovered recently that an interview Bob and I did 10 years ago on GigGuide.tw before our February 17 2013 reunion shows in Taipei and and a show later that year in New York was taken offline after GigGuide was discontinued. The interview is worth reposting; it captures a moment in time that shouldn't be lost. It's hard to believe that show was 10 years ago and the band formed 26 years ago in Taipei!
GigGuide.tw were lucky to snag Feiwu's Ian
Lamont and Bob Hsiung for an email interview just hours before their
flights to Taiwan.
If you were born
after 1990 then it's quite possible you are too young to know them, but
Feiwu, along with the likes of Ladybug, 1976, Sugar Plum Ferry and The
Clippers are the progenitors of Taiwan's underground music scene.
Forming in 1997, Feiwu were among Taiwan's early indie successes,
releasing two albums, Birds of a Feather (1998) and Ring of Fire (1999),
and playing regularly at venues like Roxy Vibe, and Spring Scream in
its early years. Sadly, it was at Spring Scream twelve years ago that
Feiwu performed for the last time. Or so they thought. As part of
Legacy's 'One Night Only' series, Feiwu are reuniting for one final show
on February 17th.
Feiwu are; Steve Tsai (蔡承宇) on drums, Joe Huang (黃俊喬) on guitar, Bob
Hsiung (熊天焱) on bass, Andrew Watson (安德魯) on lead guitar & vocals
and Ian Lamont (藍醫恩) on guitar & vocals.
What have Feiwu's band members been doing since the split? Do you continue to play music?
Ian: I returned to the states in 1999. I've been doing
music off and on, mostly home recording with friends, but no
performances. Andrew was much more dedicated after he returned -- he
moved to New York, works in the music industry, and was in a couple of
bands, and his current band Coda Resistance plays regularly. Steve has
also gigged in Taipei with various people and is really connected with
the music scene there. One time he sent us a video of him playing drums
with Wu Bai.
Bob: I've bounced around a bit. I worked in Africa for
awhile building HIV clinics, then I was at MIT building performing
robots for a futuristic new opera. Sadly, I haven't been playing much
music other than jamming with my kids (1 & 3 yrs old). We play a
mean "Puff the Magic Dragon".
How did this reunion come about?
Ian: Even though we broke up years ago, we have
remained very close -- any time we visit Taiwan, or Steve comes to New
York or Boston, we get together. Steve came to Boston a couple of times
in the early 2000s to study English and also music at the Berklee
College of Music, and we would get together for some jam sessions at a
practice space. When the opportunity came up, the idea of getting
together again for a performance felt right.
The actual invitation came to Andrew. He used to work in the Taiwan
music industry and was a guitar teacher to a lot of young musicians,
including one or two of the guitarists in 88 Guava Seeds. He also sees a
lot of Taiwanese bands when they pass through NYC, so his network is
strong. And his Mandarin is unbelievably good.
Last April, Legacy approached him and asked if Feiwu would be interested
in taking part in this retrospective performance series at Legacy
involving underground bands from the 1990s. We were part of the scene
along with bands like LTK, Chairman (董事長), 1976, Ladybug
(瓢蟲)，Backquarter (私分街)，Ah-de (啊德)， Sugar Plum Fairies (甜梅號)， Clippers
(夾子)，Chthonic, Sticky Rice, Air Dolphins (海豚), etc. We wrote a lot of
songs in Mandarin, and a few of them, including 我愛台灣啤酒 a.k.a. The Taiwan
Beer Song and a song about Coco Lee, gained a small degree of local
popularity … or notoriety depending on how you view things. We couldn't
do the show in 2012, but I was planning on coming out to Chinese New
Year for a family visit this year. We were able to work it out to get
all five former members of the band together for a reunion on February
17 at Legacy in Taipei.
Bob: We've got A LOT of people to thank for helping make this happen - like Chairman and especially Daisy Lee!
Has it been 'like old times' reuniting and rehearsing old material?
Ian: Absolutely! Bob, Andrew and myself started monthly
practices in a rehearsal space outside of Boston last November. The
music came back pretty quickly, and we also went over some of the songs
that Andrew wrote after I left the band. There are quite a few of them
-- enough for a third album, actually. As you might expect, it's pretty
heavy! My only regret about the Boston practices is Steve and Joe
weren't there, but we have a full week of rehearsals in Taipei before
the show on February 17.
Bob: It's been really great practicing with Ian and
Andrew, but I can't wait to get back with XiaoYu and I'm really excited
to hear what we sound like as a 5 piece with Joe
Did someone say "FREE BEER"? How does it feel to have your reunion show sponsored by Taiwan Beer?
Ian: Ha! I was really surprised when I heard about
that. We really do love the beer, but had no connection with the
company. When we started playing that song in the 90s, Taiwan Beer was
an old school monopoly. We weren't even sure if they were aware of the
song. But the brand has really modernized and I think it's so cool that
they're receptive to supporting the show -- with free beer to people who
come to the concert!
This is not the first time there has been free Taiwan beer at a Feiwu
concert. At one of the Spring Screams we did, we brought a case or two
of the blue and white cans on the stage right before we played the song.
"Hey, who wants some free beer?" we asked the crowd … and they rushed
the stage! This time it's official, and I heard they are bringing a huge
amount of beer to this concert. No need to rush the stage ...
Bob: Ah, if only their marketing people had figured this out in 2000, Taiwan beer would be bigger worldwide than Heineken by now
The Taiwan Beer song will likely be the crowd fave, but do you yourselves have a song you're looking forward to performing?
Ian: Bob was talking about this at one of the practices
in Boston. There are a couple of really good tunes that were never
recorded or only appeared on compilations. They will be fun to play,
especially with three guitars -- listen for "Mary Jane" and "Deafened"
and "Closure". Bob likes another unreleased tune that's kind of
delicate, called "Say Something." From the second album, "Cuckoo for
Coco" is another one -- tough to play, but it's fun.
One of my personal faves is "Puppetmaster" (布袋戲), off the first album.
It's an instrumental. Westerners assume it's an acid surf song,
Taiwanese hear it and think of Taiwanese puppet opera. The story is a
little of both. Before Spring Scream '98 I decided to write a surf
instrumental that we could play at the festival, which at the time was
next to the beach in Kenting. The first time we played it at practice,
our drummer Steve said, "布袋戲!". This was the Taiwanese puppet opera that
used to be on Taiwanese TV. I didn't get the connection at first. But
it turns out that the soundtrack for some broadcasts was none other than
American surf instrumentals from the 1960s. We dubbed the song 布袋戲, and
gave it the English title "Puppetmaster".
Bob: We have a few songs that we played at Spring
Scream 2001 but never had a chance to record. "Resolute" is one of them
and is probably my favorite Feiwu song of all time.
Have you been continuing to listen to Taiwanese music, new or old? If so, which bands?
Ian: Well, two out of five live in Taiwan -- Steve in
Taipei and Joe in Taidong. Of course, they're pretty plugged in. I know
Andrew sees practically any Taiwan indie band that passes through New
York City.
One of the things that I did to prepare for this show was watch a lot of
YouTube videos that were shot at Legacy and other places around Taiwan.
We saw some of our old friends like Ladybug and Sugar Plum Fairy and
Chthonic, but I was also blown away by some of the new bands. Touming
Magazine is one of my favorites -- I really want to see them live!
A couple of other things I discovered by watching those videos: Many of
the bands we used to play with with are not only still together, they've
gotten really, really good. A lot of underground bands from the 1990s
(including Feiwu) were DIY punk rock hackers back then … we were still
feeling our way and developing our musical voices. 15 years later, I
look at bands like Sugar Plum Fairy, Backquarter, 1976 and other people
that have stayed together, and they've really blossomed as songwriters,
musicians, and performers.
One other thing I'd like to say: I really wish there was something like
GigGuide back in the 1990s. Great writing, great listings, and whoever
is taking photographs at the shows -- he or she (or they) are amazing.
When we were starting out there were some paper fanzines in Chinese and
English, like POTS. The distribution was irregular and many people had
no access to paper issues. If you missed an issue you might never see
the concert listing or interview that would change your life!
What have you missed most about Taiwan?
Ian: One time in the summertime, I saw the number 57
bus driver in central Taipei take a meter-long section of vacuum tubing
and … oh, I'm supposed to say something serious here, right?
OK. I arrived in January 1993 and except for 6-month period in 1996,
lived in Taipei until June 1999. I lived in Wanhua for a while, and
there were all kinds of things going on there. It was a very Taiwanese
part of Taipei, if you know what I mean. It had a great night market.
There was a stand there that had the best 花枝羹 , a kind of thick stew
made with squid. That district also had religious and folk celebrations
like "God's birthdays" when you'd see these incredible processions down
the street. Of course, sometimes the religious celebrations would start
early -- at the time getting woken up by paid mourners fake crying
through loudspeakers wasn't fun … but I can look back and laugh now.
I'm going to sound like an old man saying this. Every time I go back,
usually every two or three years, I see a lot of change. I kind of
regret that I have not been around to witness that -- it's almost like
I've been left behind.
Another good thing about living in another country, especially one that
is so different from your own, is the feeling of constant discovery.
Could be discovery of some cultural or social aspect, the food, the
people, the language, nature, music, whatever. I miss that too.
One other thing I used to do a lot of when I lived in Taipei was hiking,
which I can't do near Boston without driving for at least 30 minutes.
In the mid-1990s I lived in the Hsinyi district and hiking trails were
almost right outside my door. Sometimes I'd hike all the way out to
Shenkeng and beyond. That area of course is totally changed by heavy
construction, including that highway tunnel that goes all the way to
Ilan and those trails may not be there anymore. When I go back this
time, I am going to hit some of the trails in the north part of the
city. My brother-in-law says that some new trails have been added near
his house in Neihu, so I am going to explore those.
Bob: The food, the people, the music scene, the food.
For those of us that have yet to see a Feiwu show, what can we expect?
Ian: Definitely loud! Lots of energy. Singalongs in
Mandarin and English. Andrew spouting random words in Taiwanese. We also
have some special guests joining us on stage for some songs. Oh yeah,
and expect free beer! It's going to be fun!
Bob: 12 years worth of pent up rock and roll exploding on stage in one night (and a whole lot of Taiwan beer.)
You can catch Feiwu's final show ever at Legacy on February 17th.
In 1996, I bought a used IBM ThinkPad 701c (486 architecture) in a Hong Kong computer market. I think it was about $900. A journalist at the time, I was backpacking through China and Southeast Asia, and needed something small yet powerful enough to handle writing assignments, email, and a manuscript idea I had floating around in my head. I was also transitioning to digital media, and needed something that could render my hand-coded HTML and scripts.
Ten years before "netbooks," IBM's wonderful little 701c ThinkPad had a very unique approach to compact size: A "butterfly" keyboard that unfolded when you opened the laptop. There are some photos and historical information about the IBM ThinkPad 701 here. This video show the 701c in action. It's pretty much what I remember ... a little thick, but very functional. And more powerful than I could have ever imagined.
Supposedly, the design was inspired by a black bento box. Although primitive by today's standards, it was a solid little laptop that served me well for the tasks I was engaged in at the time -- writing, Web surfing, learning HTML, email, and Word. It ran Windows 3.1, but I could also run programs from the DOS command prompt.
At one point, I set up my little writing studio in the Golden Queen hotel, Georgetown, Penang, on peninsular Malaysia facing the Indian Ocean. One day, while taking a break from writing and fiddling around in the DOS directory structure, I discovered an interesting folder. /id ... DOOM? What happens when I RUN the .exe ...
The next thing I know, I am playing DOOM. On a tiny IBM laptop. Oh, man!
In the late 1990s, I had a house fire. No one was injured, but the butterfly ThinkPad was burned, the exterior case charred and partially melted. There was data on it that I wanted, including a manuscript. I brought it to the local IBM repair center in Taipei. Two young techs were at the service desk, and hardly battered an eye when I took the charred, plastic hulk out of a plastic bag. They got a small electric saw, cut open the case, removed the keyboard, and took out the hard drive which looked intact. They attempted to connect it to their diagnostic machine but it wouldn't read, unfortunately. But I really respected their attempt.
I'm reading a memoir by MIT professor Sherry Turkle, The Empathy Diaries. I attended a talk she game some years ago at the MIT Media Lab and was fascinated - her research revolves around questions about how technology impacts people. In the book, she not only traces the evolution of her academic passions, but her personal influences. She shared some interesting facts about her mother, shown above. There were some discrepancies listed on official documents filed in New York City in the 1940s and 1950s:
"She had a drivers license that gave her incorrect height and also shaved a few years off her age, something she told me that certain ladies at the Department of Motor Vehicles would agree to do, understanding it was better if unmarried women over 23 were officially younger. When she married Charles Zimmerman in 1947, she took a year off her age on the marriage license declaring herself 28. Six years later when she married Milton Turkel, their marriage license had her at 29."
Both scenarios described by Turkle - asking a DMV clerk to fudge the birth year, or providing the wrong ages on marriage registrations - are almost impossible now.
But a long time ago, this was not unusual. We know not only because of Turkle's mother's experience, but because a few people on my own family tree also had discrepancies, particularly for marriage certificates and job applications.
In the pre-digital age, many people (including immigrants, cross-country migrants, adoptees, and poverty-stricken families) may not have had access to birth records. Government officials had to go by what they were told, and may not have been told the truth for various reasons, including very compelling reasons. In some cases, sympathetic clerks may have helped, as we learned from Turkle's book.
We know this happened in other situations, too. Teenagers lying about their age to join the military was commonplace. An estimated 200,000 underage men and women enlisted during World War II. Not long after the war, enumerators for the 1950 federal census (released in April) could note in a dedicated field on the census form if they thought a respondent was not being truthful!
The moral of the story: Sometimes ancestors supplied incorrect information to officials, and they had good reasons to do so. Try to confirm dates and ages using other types of records that are less likely to be fudged, such as birth and death certificates.
