Discoveries, finds, or otherwise identified.
For the seventeen of you still reading, please note that I’ve swapped themes somewhat arbitrarily.
While I do dearly love my color palette (and it’s still sort of in this theme), I was running into some typography and readability issues that didn’t seem worth deconstructing a stylesheet. Hence, a swap to the new WordPress default, and hopefully a little less concern about my eyes bleeding.
Also, this is an “aside”, whatever that means. I guess these are Tumblr-esqe post types?
I’ll have something of personal substance up this weekend, but wanted to make sure everyone read this lovely little thing on my current town from the Times.
It stands to reason that moving to Jersey is the one not-cool thing that will never inexplicably become cool among New Yorkers. And I had done it. It no longer seemed necessary to have a different bar to go to every night of the week. It seemed like it was time to learn to live within my means. If this is what aging entails, the Village Voice was right.
I have not seen Mike Daisey’s show, nor have I listened to the This American Life episode that featured him before it was retracted. But even without having directly heard the monologue, it’s been impossible to avoid in the drumbeat about Apple over the last quarter.
The coverage following the retraction has been fascinating. Clayton Lord’s apology to audiences shows the conflict in the theatre community over what Daisey hath wrought. Brendan Kiley said “I told you so“, pointing back to his review. Adrian Chen explained how the press was taken for a ride.
But it is perhaps John Gruber’s breakdown of the non-apology this afternoon that nails why lying in the service of a greater truth doesn’t work in this case:
Daisey told an entirely different story. Daisey’s story was this: Not only did those things happen, but they are all ongoing problems, right now, today, and they are so rampant, so commonplace, that a big white American wearing a Hawaiian shirt — a man who’s never before been to China and speaks neither Mandarin nor Cantonese — can simply travel to Shenzhen China and stand outside the Foxconn gates with a translator for a few shifts and he will find workers as young as 12, 13, 14 walking out. Any day, every day. That in the course of a single six-day trip, that same man could encounter a man who lost the use of a hand while assembling iPads, a group of workers poisoned by n-hexane, and that a man would drop dead after working a 34-hour shift. Just another week at Foxconn. That was Mike Daisey’s story — and it bears no resemblance to anything anyone else has reported.