The Internet needs dialysis

On Saturday, I did an Internet search for music stores in my area and found a couple nearby that I planned to visit in the afternoon. In the morning, I went to the Farmer's Market and happened to see one of the stores I had found right across the street! How weird-- that wasn't the online address. When it was late enough that they had opened, I went to the store and told them I had found another address online.

"Oh yeah," the guy said. "That was our old address. We haven't been able to get rid of all the references to it even though we moved a while ago."

And then today, I got a database from our summer student that he had created by searching the Web for OLED products. Except the list included at least a couple of models that I know have been discontinued. He had no way of knowing because they're listed all over the Web.

What fraction of data on the Web is obsolete or no longer relevant?

And if you look in your own mind, do you subconsciously harbor the notion that Internet info is up-to-date? Way better than books, right? Maybe not. Books are fact-checked, and even though they may be a little behind, they are rapidly looking like the more accurate medium of information.

You see, the Internet has no kidneys.

The junk doesn't get cleared out of the information stream, like kidneys do to our bloodstream. And so it piles up and piles up, only occasionally modified by good Netizens who are the same kind of people who pick up trash when they find it in the park. The rest of the surfers just walk by the junk pretending not to see it.

Without some form of dialysis, the junk-to-useful ratio will continue to increase. I am not denying that it takes some savvy to find info on the Internet, just like it does in a library. And we all have to get smart about searching and checking what we find. (I have a friend who is a substitute teacher, and he does lessons where he helps students navigate the challenges of knowing what information to trust online). But I am claiming that this skill had better be emphasized a lot more than it is, because few people are aware of it.

Also, there are certainly interesting alternatives to cruising old pages that might or might not be well maintained. Wikipedia and its ilk, for instance. But is this really a good source for all types of information? Of course not. I don't check the encyclopedia to find out what OLED products are on the market in Q3 2005.

Perhaps the most important lesson to teach people is to start with what should be obvious: The Internet is not the be-all and end-all of information. Lots of it is old, inaccurate, and just plain wrong. And that's only going to get worse in 2, 5, 10, or 25 years.

Want 250 mpg?

This is great-- a growing movement of green auto tinkerers are adding batteries and other features to hybrid cars. Some have achieved mileage as high as 250 mpg.

Of course these modified cars aren't cost-effective enough to mass produce in an economy like ours. But I think it's great that enterprising engineers would tweak them up. Maybe one of them will happen upon an idea that Toyota, Honda, or another car company could use.

This is the power of "creativity of the masses" in technology development. Give people a new device to play with, and watch what they do to modify it, to use it in new ways, and to take it out of context into whole new dimensions the designers didn't think of. This is one key strength I see in capitalism-- the ability to just get stuff out into the marketplace. End users in their garages are often much smarter than designers in their offices. If there is some mechanism for feedback from the market back toward the suppliers, real improvement can occur quickly and to everyone's benefit.

Go, auto tinkerers!

Unscheduled work retreat

This week, we're getting a nice retreat at work. Not everyone thinks it's nice, but I have found some genuine peace and enjoyment.

You see, our Internet connection has major problems. We were down from 7 pm Friday to 5:30 pm Tuesday, and then we went down again at 1:30 pm today.

No email.
No Net connection.
No voicemail (we have IP phones).

Aaaaahhhhhhhh. So quiet and focused. I have gotten several things done surprisingly quickly, which I'm sure would have taken longer if I had been "multitasking" with my email dinging and the phone ringing. This is how it used to be 25 years ago before email was popular. I am highly skeptical of these "productivity increases"; I have been plenty productive on some of my projects this week.

That's not to say it's all roses. We are very dependent on this technology now. It is frustrating not to be able to pop a file over to my colleague down the hall (we have resorted to "sneaker net," carrying files on USB sticks). And of course I need to look things up online, although I have been using my home computer for that.

And of course, everyone else is still operating in hyper-speed mode, which means that we all look like flakes for not replying to email within 93 seconds. I'll have to make some apologies when we're finally back up and running.

Still, it's real food for thought. It's worth getting past the frustration and cussing at the network service provider long enough to observe what is really happening, and how in some ways it is better to slow down.

This is exactly the philosophy of a meditation retreat. Stop. Just stop. Stop doing so much stuff, and just be for a while. It's nice to slow down, not fill every moment with reading, writing, talking, and thinking. You can find out interesting things about yourself and your life.

Sure, that might not be appropriate for the work world. I'll be pleased when we're back up and able to really do our jobs effectively. But I see the technical troubles this week as quite an interesting opportunity for observation. We don't get this every week!

The Lifeless Body

This is a serious topic, but one well worth speaking frankly on, since it concerns every one of us. Death of the body, that is.

Somehow I have lived for nearly 36 years without seeing a corpse. I haven't attended an open-casket funeral, or been unfortunate enough to see a fatal accident or witness the reality of war. On Sunday, I heard that a local Buddhist monk and teacher had died, and was having his body shown as a final lesson.

I leaped at the chance to see his corpse-- better now than under more shocking circumstances. Also, I didn't know him, so it would be an uncomplicated viewing of Death without emotions getting in the way.

I made the 45-minute drive, noting that the creeping fog that envelopes San Francisco most of the time had advanced just far enough inland that the mortuary was shrouded in chill, gray air. Inside, a sign directed me to the right place-- apparently many bodies or their coffins were on display. I went inside, removed my shoes respectfully, and sat in the Noble Silence among about 10 other devotees.

First I gazed from afar, then I approached the open casket and lingered before it.

A corpse is certainly a truly lifeless object, far different from sleep. I didn't see the "peace" that is supposedly evident in death. My guess is that the peaceful expression comes just as the person dies, and it is the final expression of the life force (call it what you want). Once the body's dead, there's no need for an expression of peace. Not that he looked angry or sad-- he just didn't have an expression on his face at all (and why would he?).

The teaching he was passing on is twofold. First is the teaching of Inconstancy (anicca). We should remind ourselves regularly that everything changes, everything that is born must die, and we are no exception. I looked at the dead body and reflected that I, too, would someday look just as lifeless. Maybe people will come and gaze at my graying face also, unless I die in a more grisly way and that wouldn't be suitable.

The second teaching is that the body is not the person (anatta). There was a photograph of the monk mounted right beside the casket, and it was obviously very different even though it too was a perfectly motionless representation of him. It's totally different to have life in the body, animating it. Take it one step further and the inevitable conclusion is that "I" (whatever that is) is not my body. It's easy to say, but when you really look inside, not so easy to believe.

That doesn't mean that the body is nothing but a puppet of the mind/self/soul/atman, just something to inhabit like a dorm room or drive around like a vehicle. It's more like a horse than a car. It's got some of its own personality and intelligence, and the mind has to share control of it in a give-and-take way. The body shapes the mind just as surely as the mind animates the body. But still, the body is nothing but a pile of organic materials without an active, alive mind.

I had an interesting experience looking at the corpse and reminding myself that someday I would look that lifeless also. I began to feel the life force in me very strongly. I was very aware of my breathing, my heartbeat, the heat in my body, and the general feeling of pulsing energy that accompanies an alive body. These are the things that separated me from that corpse--- and the only things.

Also, my mind kept eerily making it look like he had moved, just a bit. It was so unusual to see a body with no movement, not even breath, that I fantasized it into existence at a couple points!

I went back to my seat, and then back to the corpse two more times before departing for home. I'm really glad I went. Death is something we should know since it's the only thing we really have to do in life. Everything else is pretty much optional.

And it was helpful to have a non-emotional look at it. Perhaps this will shape my next experience with death of a loved one-- we'll see.

Engineers Without Borders

You've probably heard of Doctors Without Borders (MSF is the usual acronym, from the French). There is also Engineers Without Borders, an international organization to supply simple and sustainable technological solutions to poor and/or rural communities worldwide.

This is good stuff. There is an emphasis on working with local people to make sure the solutions are appropriate for the culture in which they are being deployed. There is a clear recognition of the need for ethics and human rights in developing and enacting solutions. There is not, however, blind faith that technology is the panacea to all problems; it's seen as part of an ongoing dialogue to improve the lives of people.

Unfortunately, EWB-International does not accept individual memberships. But many institutions have joined, and if you are interested, perhaps you can encourage yours to do so.

My guess is that the people the engineers work with often turn out to be excellent engineers themselves, perhaps teaching the EWB people a few things. That's the real fun of projects like these-- coming to mutual understanding and appreciation.

The best invention since 1880

What would you say is the best invention since 1880?

A recent UK national survey produced an overwhelming winner: the bicycle.

Yep, it beat out the transistor, the electromagnetic induction ring, the computer, germ theory, the radio, etc. (Do you think in the US we would even know the significance of the electromagnetic induction ring?).

The bicycle is simple, non-polluting, healthful, and decently fast. Modern versions can handle lots of different terrains. And the best part is, it's a variation on the best invention since the dawn of Homo sapiens: the wheel!

To silence and back

I have returned from a 10-day silent meditation retreat. Although I tried to resist comparing this year's version to last year's, it was inevitable that my mind would do that. But the stuff about no one stepping in the same stream twice is really true.

The biggest difference is that I recovered much faster this time. Previously, I was shying away from loud noises and crowds for days after the retreat, and felt like my brain was slow for a couple of weeks. This time I recovered in a couple of days.

It was the same teachers, but a different group of retreaters, so the tone of the retreat was different too. It doesn't matter that we aren't speaking; there is definitely a tone established. And, of course, I was different, so my voyage over the 10 days had some different turns. Same overall pattern, but the details were way different.

So what is it that I do?

The practice I do is called vipassana. It's a Buddhist practice that draws largely from the Theravadin tradition, but also a bit from Zen and even Tibetan Buddhism. The meditation is very simple: focusing on the breath to steady the mind, and engaging in a technique called mindfulness to observe the workings of the mind. Everyone's mind has different content, but functions by the same process. The destination of one who undertakes a vipassana journey is profound inner peace.

The instructors for this particular retreat are fabulous, and have a big influence on its success. They are:

Gil Fronsdal, teacher at the Insight Meditation Center (IMC) in Redwood City

Mary Orr, teacher at Vipassana Santa Cruz

John Travis, teacher at the Mountain Stream Meditation Center in Grass Valley

These three teachers did their early training in Asia several decades ago. Then they did their teacher training together at Spirit Rock Meditation Center under the guidance of Jack Kornfield, one of the founders of American Buddhism. They have the easy familiarity of siblings, and provide excellent support to the retreaters.

Vipassana retreats are silent. Retreaters do not talk to each other or make eye contact. The teachers talk, and students can talk to the teachers, both during formal "interviews" (15 min every other day) and during one public Q&A session (15 min per day). Each day of a vipassana retreat has a schedule of sitting and walking meditation from early morning (5:30 or so) until evening (9:30 or so), with breaks for eating, yogi jobs (work meditation), interviews, and one dharma talk per day. With so much of the social context removed, you really get to focus on your inner work, and the teachers are there to guide you as much as you need.

Here's the schedule I did for 10 days:

5:15 am - wake-up bell
5:45 - sit
6:30 - breakfast
7:15 - work period or break
8:15 - sit, with instructions for the day given
9:00 - Q&A
9:15 - walk (there is a special way of doing walking meditation)
10:00 - sit
10:45 - walk
11:30 - sit
12:15 - lunch, followed by a break
2:15 - sit
3:00 - walk
3:45 - sit
4:30 - walk
5:00 - sit
5:30 - light supper, followed by a break
6:45 - sit
7:30 - dharma talk
8:30 - walk
9:00 - sit
9:30 pm - go to sleep or stay up and meditate more

I find on retreats that I don't need much sleep, so I would often get up hours before the 5:15 wake-up bell and sit on my own in the meditation hall. It was a beautiful hall done up in full Tibetan style, with lots of red and gold. The buddha statue was big and gold and so stately looking. Very inspiring. He lived 2,500 years ago, and we are still following the path he discovered.

I find the practice enormously satisfying. I meditate every day as well as go on retreats. Vipassana is flexible and integrates well with the rest of life, and yet it has already brought very positive changes to my life in just a few years of practice. And there's so much more coming...

Into the woods

I am getting ready to depart on a 10-day meditation retreat. It's at a Tibetan retreat center called Vajrapani, although the practice we are doing is not explicitly Tibetan.

Rule #1: Noble silence. No talking, making eye contact, or even looking at other people's faces. You get to know people's shirts and shoes pretty well. Some people find this offputting, as if they are being shunned or punished, while others find it relieving and relaxing to be free of social norms. It doesn't really matter what your particular response is, only that you notice it and understand that it's just a reaction based on your history and personality, not some earthshattering thing.

There will be about 50 of us, along with 3 teachers and a couple of cooks. The teachers give a lecture every day, and we will have individual interviews with a teacher about every other day. Besides that, just silence.

Just the creation of space, beautiful space, into which our true being can expand and relax. No more confinements of life and the boxes we build for ourselves there.

The showers are up on top of a hill, exposed to the trees on one side.

There are blue jays and lizards, a couple of mangy cats, and a peahen.

But that doesn't imply total peace. We will all experience the things buried in our hearts also. All the pains and fears of the world exist also in the heart-- indeed, the world is really just the human heart turned inside out. And therefore, working out the issues on the inside is intimately related to doing so on the outside. It just occurs one heart at a time. I don't think I would have considered being a hospital volunteer before starting to meditate.

Obviously, no computers are there, so I will be silent with my typing fingers too. (Indeed, Vajrapani is off the grid. There is electricity, but they get it from their own solar panels. There is heated water, but they made their own system for it. They did consent to having one phone).

Namo tassa baghavato arahato sammasambuddhasa

Finally safe from measles

I am applying to work as a volunteer at Lucile Packard Children's Hospital at Stanford. Part of the procedure is to assure that I am up to date on my measles, mumps, rebella, and rubeola vaccinations, and am free from active TB. Of course I can't remember my immunizations from 30 years ago, but the cool thing is that they can just draw some blood and check.

Oops. I came out negative for measles vaccine. I could catch the disease.

Now, supposedly, I had an "MMR" vaccination as a child, but it seems that it doesn't take in everyone, and mine seems to be dead. Although I didn't know this, a friend recalls that in our era, certain years of measles vaccine were considered more effective than others. Perhaps I got a bad one.

So, one result of doing this volunteer work is that I am finally safe from measles. Volunteers get free innoculations when they are found to be deficient (keep this in mind if you need vaccinations but can't afford it!). Not a bad side effect.

This whole thing reminded me of the changing times regarding chicken pox. Back when I was a kid, there was no such thing as a chicken pox vaccine. Nearly everyone came down with chicken pox sometime in elementary school (except people like me who had it when we were babies because our older siblings got it in elementary school). It was sort of a rite of passage.

In fact, it was considered a good thing to have chicken pox! Most kids don't suffer much from it-- maybe a couple of uncomfortable days due to itchiness and a low fever-- but you still have to be quarantined for 6 to 10 days. What fun! You stay home, watch TV, get special food, and don't even have to feel sick for it.

Parents liked it too, actually, in cases where they were able to stay home with the kid. It is much safer to get chicken pox as a child than as a teenager, when it can threaten fertility (or is that mumps? One of them). So mothers actually used to encourage their kids to play with the kid who had chicken pox if they hadn't had it yet. Then the kid gets sick, gets over it, and doesn't have to worry any more.

These days, there is a vaccine. This is a good thing, of course, but the irony is that kids hardly get exposed to chicken pox anymore. The kid of a friend of mine somehow managed to catch it anyway, and when they took him to the doctor, the doctor assured them that it wasn't chicken pox. It was so unfamiliar that the doc didn't even recognize it! And so the kid merrily played with his friends, exposing all of them. And this kid had been vaccinated, too! Maybe it's still in the stage like the measles vaccine when I was a kid, where it isn't always effective.

Maybe we're passing the era of "childhood diseases"? Are there any standard illnesses that kids get anymore, now that we don't get measles, mumps, chicken pox, or polio?