PlanScore is doing two things to address partisan gerrymandering.
We are creating score pages for district plans to provide instant, real-time analysis of a plan’s fairness. Each district plan will be evaluated for its population, demographic, partisan, and geometric character in a single place, with backing methodology and data provided so you can understand the number. We’ll publish historical scores back to the 1970s for context, current scores of proposed plans for voters and journalists, and dynamic scores of new plans for legislative staff who are designing tomorrow’s plans.
We are also assembling a collection of underlying electoral data from sources like Open Elections, elections-geodata, and other parallel efforts. Our goal is to provide valid scores for new plans in any state. As we await the outcomes of gerrymandering challenges in Wisconsin and North Carolina, voters and legislative staff in other states are wondering how to apply new ideas to their own plans. In 2020, everyone will have to redraw their maps. PlanScore will be a one-stop shop for district plan analysis.
We have been blind to the fact that the First Nations were already here living on these lands long before the European settlers arrived. It is important to recognize that we have not been passive in our blindness but brutally deliberate. First out of malice and then later out of negligence and more recently out of shame.
From Mike Monteiro’s One person’s history of Twitter, from beginning to end:
Their goal was giving everyone a voice. They were so obsessed with giving everyone a voice that they never stopped to wonder what would happen when everyone got one. And they never asked themselves what everyone meant. That’s Twitter’s original sin. Like Oppenheimer, Twitter was so obsessed with splitting the atom they never stopped to think what we’d do with it.
20 years is arbitrary nonsense. A blip. Our software is bullshit, our literary essays are too long, the good editors all quit or got fired, hardly anyone is experimenting with form in a way that wakes me up, the IDEs haven’t caught up with the 1970s, the R&D budgets are weak, the little zines are badly edited, the tweets are poor, the short stories make no sense, people still care too much about magazines, the Facebook posts are nightmares, LinkedIn has ruined capitalism, and the big tech companies that have arisen are exhausting, lumbering gold-thirsty kraken that swim around with sour looks on their face wondering why we won’t just give them all our gold and save the time … In the spirit of this thing I won’t be editing this paragraph.
Thanks for sharing what you know!
I wrote a post over on the Mapzen blog that I think came out nicely.
The territory means different things to different people. Depending on your perspective, the kinds of data that are captured about places may be missing, insufficient, or downright hostile. Who’s On First is opinionated—like all datasets, no collection is truly unbiased—but we hope to be aware of when we’re asserting our own opinions about places and create a framework where a polyglot of place-feels will be welcome.
The multifaceted maps we make simply reflect the weird and wonderful territory they represent.
I’m going to be adapting this as a talk at csv,conf. If you’ll be in Portland May 3, come out and say hello. (Bring your CSVs!)
Today I tweeted a snarky thing about Google’s featured snippets and then a bunch of people faved/retweeted it. I’m pretty sure this is the closest I’ve gotten to something “going viral.”
I mean, just look at this screen grab. It is an ouroboros of algorithmic fail. pic.twitter.com/lhm9H0easK— Dan Phiffer (@dphiffer) March 5, 2017
If you used Twitter today, you’ve probably heard it’s the social network’s 10th birthday. I used their API to recreate what Twitter’s first day looked like, by plugging in a sequence of ID numbers starting at number 20.
I’m curious what happened to those first 19 tweets, and some other subsequent missing ID numbers (e.g., 24, 27, 28). Were they deleted? If so, why? Also notable: missing tweet ID 105 returns “Sorry, you are not authorized to see this status.” instead of the usual “No status found with that ID.”
just setting up my twttr— Jack (@jack) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— Biz Stone (@biz) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— noah glass (@noah) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— crystal (@crystal) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— Tony Stubblebine (@tonystubblebine) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— Adam Rugel (@Adam) March 21, 2006
inviting coworkers— Jack (@jack) March 21, 2006
getting my odeo folks on this deal— Biz Stone (@biz) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— rabble (@rabble) March 21, 2006
oooooooh— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
Oh shit, I just twittered a little.— Jeremy (@jeremy) March 21, 2006
waiting for dom to update more— Jack (@jack) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— Tim Roberts (@timroberts) March 21, 2006
waiting for Jack to update more first— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
oh this is going to be addictive— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
Planning for Sprint #4— Tim Roberts (@timroberts) March 21, 2006
wishing I had another sammich— Biz Stone (@biz) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— meredith (@meredith) March 21, 2006
typing my first message— meredith (@meredith) March 21, 2006
following Mer— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
I'll check back in later— meredith (@meredith) March 21, 2006
having some flowery orange pekoe tea— Biz Stone (@biz) March 21, 2006
setting up my mac mini— Tim Roberts (@timroberts) March 21, 2006
lunch— Jack (@jack) March 21, 2006
free lunch— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
feeling pains in my back— Biz Stone (@biz) March 21, 2006
using twttr.com— Biz Stone (@biz) March 21, 2006
twttr my nttr— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
going out to do an errand— Biz Stone (@biz) March 21, 2006
already addicted to twttr.com— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
high on sugar— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
settling back in— Biz Stone (@biz) March 21, 2006
watching connections on FlashCom— Tony Stubblebine (@tonystubblebine) March 21, 2006
working on SMS in— Jack (@jack) March 21, 2006
just setting up my twttr— RayReadyRay (@rayreadyray) March 21, 2006
sugar crash— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 21, 2006
checking out twttr— Ev Williams (@ev) March 21, 2006
kinda twttring around and such— Biz Stone (@biz) March 22, 2006
Having a twitter just now.— Jeremy (@jeremy) March 22, 2006
walking the dog— Biz Stone (@biz) March 22, 2006
just setting up my twttr— ariel poler (@ariel) March 22, 2006
changing status through my blackberry browser— Jack (@jack) March 22, 2006
is there a way to add friends without typing in phone numbers?— Tony Stubblebine (@tonystubblebine) March 22, 2006
Oh man, this twitter tickles my nose— Jeremy (@jeremy) March 22, 2006
hax0ring, using lynx to make this post from a machine 1 world away...— Jeremy (@jeremy) March 22, 2006
eating little snacks that livy made— Biz Stone (@biz) March 22, 2006
Heading back (via nokia)— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 22, 2006
wishing there were more little snacks— Biz Stone (@biz) March 22, 2006
on my way to drawing class— Jack (@jack) March 22, 2006
<a href="http://bizstone.com">announcing a blog update</a>— Biz Stone (@biz) March 22, 2006
waiting for Buzz ;)— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 22, 2006
drawing naked people— Jack (@jack) March 22, 2006
doin' some emailz— Biz Stone (@biz) March 22, 2006
waiting for livy to get back from wildcare— Biz Stone (@biz) March 22, 2006
pumping iron— Adam Rugel (@Adam) March 22, 2006
put some rss on my mp3— Adam Rugel (@Adam) March 22, 2006
Oh crap, I think I might be getting that f'in cold— noah glass (@noah) March 22, 2006
fantasizing about jack drawing naked people mmmmmmmmmmmmm..... naked people.— Jeremy (@jeremy) March 22, 2006
learning about the earthquake I felt earlier today— Biz Stone (@biz) March 22, 2006
Heading home— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 22, 2006
sleep— Jack (@jack) March 22, 2006
And then it was day two.
time to make the donuts— Dom Sagolla (@dom) March 22, 2006
Consider these happy users of couchsurfing.com, the old school zero-cost precursor to Airbnb.
From Adam Greenfield:
A few years ago, I would have had to wonder whether these images did in fact represent happy Couchsurfers; now, of course, we have Google Image Search. It only took me a few seconds’ clicking around to confirm what I had suspected — or actually, something even more troubling.
It’s not merely that are these not at all images of actual Couchsurfers; in itself, that might readily enough be forgiven. It’s that the images appear to have been downloaded, altered and used in a commercial context without their creators’ knowledge or consent — in one case, in fact, in direct contravention of the (very generous) terms of the license under which they were offered. Here, let’s take a look:
– The image labeled “Jason” is one of photographer David Weir’s 100 Strangers, originally labeled with a copyright notice;
– “Dang” is a crop of commercial photographer Anthony Mongiello’s headshot of actor Stanley Wong
This is not a huge deal, of course, but I’ve had my photos used this way, and it does irk me a bit. And I got curious, so I searched for the background image of Venice, Italy (why didn’t they use Bangkok?), and it looks like a legit stock photo.
I also contacted each of the photographers mentioned in Adam’s post, just to confirm that their work hadn’t been licensed from them somehow. So far I’ve heard back from Anthony Mongiello, and he was surprised to learn his photo was being used this way. It’s probably safe to assume the other “user” portraits are also stolen.
We built Facebox in 2013 to make life easier for UI designers who needed quick access to high quality, royalty-free images of real people. In the time since, it’s been a blast to see Facebox photos show up all over the Internet.
Out of respect for our models, who were very generous with their likenesses, we’ve decided to discontinue sales of Facebox, before they get overexposed.
Perhaps the classless move by the Couchsurfing designers has been balanced out just a bit from Khoi and Matt’s thoughtful gesture.
For three weeks American politicians have been fulminating about the peril posed by Syrian refugees, even though in the last dozen years no refugee in America has killed a single person in a terror attack.
In the same three weeks as this hysteria about refugees, guns have claimed 2,000 lives in America. The terror attacks in San Bernardino, Calif., and at the Planned Parenthood clinic in Colorado Springs were the most dramatic, but there’s an unrelenting average of 92 gun deaths every day in America, including suicides, murders and accidents.
See also: Friday’s front-page editorial, “End the Gun Epidemic in America,” the first since 1920. Also: The Guardian’s visualization of mass shootings.
I do believe that Mark and Priscilla want to have a meaningful positive impact on the world, and I am unapologetically enthusiastic about the fact they’re articulating that vision in a way that will lead others. I am also grievously concerned about the greatest threat to those intentions: The culture of Silicon Valley. Many of the loudest, most prominent voices within the tech industry, people who have Zuckerberg’s ear, are already thoughtlessly describing smart critique of the Initiative as “hating”, absurdly dismissing legitimate concerns as jealousy.
Here’s the truth: No matter how good their intentions, the net result of most such efforts has typically been neutral at best, and can sometimes be deeply destructive. The most valuable path may well be to simply invest this enormous pool of resources in the people and institutions that are already doing this work (including, yes, public institutions funded by tax dollars) and trust that they know their domains better than someone who’s already got a pretty demanding day job.
As Anil said on Twitter, “the best thing they could do is listen to critics.”
Yesterday, for the first time in 137 years of operation, while world leaders meet in Paris for COP21, The Hindu did not go to print because of heavy flooding.
Consequent to the heavy rain, print editions of The Hindu dated December 2, 2015, in Chennai, Vellore, Puducherry and Tirupati have been cancelled after taking into consideration the safety of those in the distribution network.
The Indian daily newspaper, with a circulation just above that of the New York Times, did not print yesterday’s Chennai edition, but uploaded PDFs from the issue to their website.
You may have heard Mark Zuckerberg, founder of Facebook, has promised to donate 99% of his stock in the company “to charity.” (It’s unclear what “charity” means precisely at this point, but one might want to look in the direction of Newark.)
First, the stock could go back to the Facebook users who made it valuable in the first place. As I have noted here before, Facebook’s business model depends on gathering, mining and selling the personal information that its users post on the platform. That includes our networks of relationships, our photos, our worries, our milestones, our passions and our preferences. It’s barely understood what exactly Facebook knows about us and how, except that it’s a lot. This is part of what has made Mr. Zuckerberg so controversial, and rightly so; early on, he referred to his users as “dumb” (followed by a word even more insulting) for trusting him with such data. What if, rather than papering over that controversy, he could resolve it at the root?
Consider what it would mean if a substantial portion of Facebook stock were held in a trust that acts on behalf of the platform’s users. (This is a model I’m borrowing from the employee-owned John Lewis Partnership in the United Kingdom, explained in Marjorie Kelly’s extraordinary book Owning Our Future.) Users could then vote on what positions the trust should hold at shareholder meetings, and it could distribute dividends based on the stock’s value back to users, or reinvest them by buying more ownership in the company. The trust, therefore, would have a dual incentive: to protect user interests and privacy in Facebook’s business model, and to ensure that the company remains solvent.
The other suggestion, to sell the stocks and distribute the proceeds to every person alive, is also noteworthy, effectively saying: “Do you really know better what to do with all that money than the collective wisdom of everyone on Earth combined?”
I’m finding that it’s very important to just get up there and talk a little bit, make some dumb jokes, let people get used to you existing. A lot of times I talk about the status of the talk (“this is a new talk and I’ll be glad to hear what you think”).
I’m noticing that this style of presenting is very adaptable; when you’re in a small room you can turn it into a conversation and bring in the audience; when you’re speaking to hundreds of people, and engagement is not possible, you can just keep plowing ahead but it’s still like you’re just having a fun chat instead of holding forth. You can even do a kind of professorial “Oh! Right!” as if the deck was surprising you, and both you and the audience were just seeing this information for the first time together and you were merely riffing.
I highly recommend that you try to find some way to go see Paul give a talk.
While I am in Futaba I am accompanied by a married couple, Mitsuru and Kikuyo Tani (aged 74 and 71), who show me the house from which they were evacuated. They visit it regularly but due to the regulations they can do this a maximum of once a month, and only for a few hours at a time. They take advantage of these opportunities even though they gave up hope of returning permanently a long time ago. They check to see if the roof is leaking and whether the windows have been damaged by the wind or wild animals. If necessary they make some minor repairs. Their main reason for returning however is sentimental and the attachment they feel to this place. A yearning for the place in which they have their origins and spent their entire lives.