Another marvelous failure?

Laura Miller's praising review of China Mieville's new Un Lun Dun left me somewhat ambivalent.
On the one hand, there's the fact that it's a new Mieville book and that's always good news. In addition, the review could not be any more positive and promising. I have, for so long, been looking for that lost childhood joy of reading that Miller promises.
On the other hand, there's the Gaiman reference, and in this context one cannot avoid thinking of Neverwhere. Reading the review I came close to concluding that just lake Gaiman's attempt, Mieville's book ends up as a marvelous, fun and joyful failure.
Both books revolve around the idea of the existence of some alternative London, filled with mystical powers and weird creatures, and both start by throwing an innocent dweller of the London we know into that other city. Like most Gaiman books, Neverwhere aims high, it has a great, original and compelling idea at its base. In it Gaiman sets to explore the true nature of London, and through it, to some extent, of every large western city. He does it by using fantasy to shed a new light on aspects of the mundane reality, and he fails. Too many times he gives in to the urge of using brilliant (as well as not so brilliant) wordplay instead of actually exploring the concepts he is dealing with. From Miller's review I came to realize that Mieville, with a wilder imagination seems to go down the same alley.
I am still sure I'll read Un Lun Dun, and just as sure that I'll enjoy it, but I will also keep looking for a book that will do a better job at cracking the mysteries of London.

Tail-less DVDs?

Chris Anderson rushes to defend the validity of the long tail model for the DVD market in face of seemingly opposing evidence. While Anderson's instinct to defend his theory is natural, the question of whether it is indeed valid for DVDs is not trivial.
It wasn't that long ago that DVDs were a niche market product, for those rich enough to build private screening rooms and equip them with the newest and best hi-fi systems. Then things started changing, the sharp drop in the price of basic DVD players (as well as the appearance of some mid-price alternatives to the monstrous plasma screens and 5 speaker sets) had some part in this transformation. But the most important factor in the great DVD boom was the fact that it created a new product. At some point DVDs ceased to be about superb sound and picture quality and started being about the extra features, deleted scenes, commentary, the-making-of clips etc. And a whole new market was born. I for example, never considered buying a video cassette (with the sole exception of the remastered Star Wars trilogy), but am now the proud owner of a respectable DVD collection.

At first glance there shouldn't be too much of a difference between the DVD market and the music or books market, which are the most important examples of long tails. And yet, there is a great difference. The DVD market can be broken into two major submarkets. First there is the "gift worthy" submarket, consisting mostly of limited editions or beautifully packed sets, these products will usually enjoy a long shelf life at the retailers, but also, and more important, in the consumers' mind. A collection of the Dirty Harry movies is a great gift today, and will remain one in a year, or in ten years (provided the DVD format will not be obsolete by then). This submarket should be adequately described by a long tail model, and I believe it is. But then there's another submarket, and a much broader one, that of the simple one movie DVD, with some extra features and a standard package. When first published, usually a few months after the theatrical release these DVDs are attractive, and for a short while even "gift worthy". But that's only for a very short while. With the presence of TiVo and other smart alternatives, as well as of stupid DVD-recorders, there is almost no attraction to buy a DVD of, let's say, "The Pursuit of Happyness" once it's available for grabbing on TV (and I'm intentionally ignoring illegal downloads here even if they do play some part).

I am not sure how the American DVD market behaves but in Israel it is common to see a freshly released DVD priced at approximately 100 NIS (that's around 20$), only to drop down to a third of this price after a year. Such sharp drops, needless to say, are unheard of for books and music CDs. If you insist on buying a year old book from a local store with limited shelf space you'd probably have to make an order from their central storage, but once the book arrives you'll still have to pay the full price typed at the back of the book.
To clarify my point, for a long tail description to be valid the products we're dealing with must retain their attraction despite the passing of time. I believe the DVD market to be a case in which the willingness to purchase a product suffers a sharp decline (and will probably be best fitted by some decreasing exponential function) after a period of a few months, whereas for books this decline is much slower (probably a power law behavior). Therefore, when the emergence of online retailers abolished the restrictions of shelf space we have seen a shift in the book market to reflect the real taste of book buyers. In the DVD market something similar happens, but the real taste of buyers does not conform to a long tail description.

The Ralph Lauren Embassy

This picture was taken at the entrance to the Ralph Lauren store of Aviv Mall, located at the well-off Tel Aviv suburb of Ramat Aviv.
The text reads "Polo Sport" in a large font, and right underneath it, in a smaller font, "Ralph Lauren". Then, just where you'd expect to see one the brands' logos, probably the well-known polo playing rider (In Israel many people refer to Ralph Lauren apparel simply as "horse", as in "he was wearing a horse shirt").
But surprise, lo and behold, there's a totally different logo, one which is even more famous and recognizable than "the horse". Yes, it's right there, much larger than the text above it. It is, plain and simple, The Stars and Stripes. Not some variation in which the RL initials replace the stars, just the American flag. As if you are about to enter the American embassy and not just a franchise of an American based chain of stores.
The store's operators (who are, in fact operating about half of the fashion stores in this mall) have made a decision. While they proudly show the various logos gathered under the Ralph Lauren superbrand elsewhere in the store, they have chosen to display a different face at the entrance. They have chosen to advertise themselves not as selling high quality fashion, but as doing much more than that. They are here to represent and to bring us the Americana, they are here to sell us the American Dream.

False Consciousness at The New Yorker

I love The New Yorker. Really. While subscribing to it or buying it regularly is a rather expensive affair here in Israel, I do check the website on a weekly basis and buy an occasional issue, approximately once per month. In fact, one of the best gifts I ever treated myself to is the marvelous The Complete New Yorker: Eighty Years of the Nation's Greatest Magazine (Book & 8 DVD-ROMs) containing all issues of the last 81 years (with updates released each year).
Until a few months ago I never bothered wondering whether I'm a typical reader, part of the magazine's natural target audience. Based on the content alone I believe I am. Based on the ads I am absolutely not. There is a huge, seemingly inexplicable chasm between the people to whom the magazine is written and the people to whom the ads are intended. Let me try to explain.
An issue of the New Yorker costs 4$ (5$ for the double issues published 5 times/year). Hardly the sum of money that would cause even a penniless student to think twice before taking the wallet out. For this modest sum you get a usually great piece of fiction, several intelligent and deep articles on varying issues and more. In short, the magazine, based on this, is aimed at every well educated and culturally curious person. Including many penniless students as well as young low-income professionals.
On the other hand, the ads are all aiming for a much narrower demographic of affluent readers. On a typical issue you'll find plenty of ads for luxury resorts, Italian designers, high-end alcoholic drinks and S.U.Vs (that's on the magazine that published the most important attack on S.U.V culture). Assuming the people at Conde Nast are not making a grave mistake here, there must be an explanation. I recently realized what it is.
Usually I ignore the ads, knowing that most of them are irrelevant for me by being both an Israeli and freshly out of my graduate studies. Yet, for some reason, a few months ago I came across an ad that managed to hit a nerve. It shows a young man in a typical college boy outfit and hairstyle, staring cluelessly at the air. In the background there's an S.U.V, being driven away by one of his parents (probably his dad) and the text reads: 5:15 PM Dropping the kid off at college, 5:17 PM What kid?
My only daughter is not yet three years old, every morning I walk her to the kindergarten and then run to catch my bus to work. It will take 15 years for her to join the IDF, then, once she's done with her military duties she'll probably start studying in some university near us and keep living at home. In short I have approximately 20 years until I'll drop her off at some place, not to mention her not yet born siblings. And yet, this ad created a strong emotional response, as I said, it hit a nerve.
It took me some time to realize I'm a living example for an acute case of false consciousness, and that I'm probably not alone. And then, all of a sudden the paradox of the New Yorker's ads was solved. When I picked an issue of The New Yorker as a student, when I pick it now as a young father I'm doing it for the great content, but I'm also doing it because of the promises it holds for my future. In a sense I'm branding myself as a New Yorker reader, which means that one day I'll be able to afford all the luxuries promised within its pages. The advertisers are happy to spend their money in there because it adds the cultural New Yorker chic to their brands, but also because one day, when some of us will indeed become affluent enough, we will recall our old dreams of spending the summer in that beach resort in Mexico or driving an S.U.V away from the kid we just dropped off.
Finally, for those who can afford those products in the ads, the full back catalog is also available on a slickly designed portable HD. I you're a true fan you owe it to yourself. The Complete New Yorker: Eighty Years of the Nation's Greatest Magazine (Book & 8 DVD-ROMs)

Too Large to Survive

Chris Anderson of "The Long Tail" fame blogs about niche-brands owned by big well established companies and the new tendency to hide the financial relation in order to retain the indie-chic of the niche-brands. He starts his discussion with the revelation that several high-end chocolatiers are in fact owned by Hershey's.
Funnily, the rather small Israeli market presents a very similar scenario in the same field, with a cruel twist at its end. For years the Israeli chocolate market was dominated by a single player named 'Elite', in fact for people growing up in the 70's and early 80's "Elite" and chocolate were practically synonymous. Over the last two decades some competition has entered the monoplized field, but the truly relevant change came qq years ago. The newly culinary educated Israeli public, returning from trips to Europe have shown interest in niche, high-end chocolate which could only be found in a few very expensive import stores. Enters Max Brenner.
Founded by Oded Brenner, "Max Brenner" (the site has a U.S gift catalog page, and its chocolate is really superb) became the first and most famous Israeli chocolatier. Coinciding with the great economic boom of the first .com bubble, "Max Brenner" quickly became a recognized brand name, creating a previously non-existent niche in the Israeli market. Several errors in economic decisions, accompanied by the burst of the bubble akmost forced Brenner to fold. In 2001 the brand was saved by none other than "Elite" who purchased a large portion of Brenner's company. Just like Hershey's, the people at "Elite" realized that the only way to maintain Brenner's attraction is to keep the separate brand name and try to hide the relation as much as possible. It worked, the "Max Brenner" brand is now back on track with a network of chocolate-themed cafes/restuarants for people who loath the "Elite" industrial chocolate.
And the comes the cruel twist. In 2004 "Elite" was acquired by one of Israel's largest food companies, "Strauss" (specializing in dairy products mostly). For three years the merged company was named "Strauss-Elite", retaining the two separate brand names. Recently it was decided to rename the company "Strauss Group", and drop the "Elite" brand name, with a myriad of accompanying features (mostly the famous cow logo found on the basic, simplest chocolate tables). For many people this was a painful decision, and you could find Israeli bloggers posting nostalgically on the role of "Elite" in their lives.
Assuming the people at "Strauss" have taken this into account, I believe this adds extra validity to Anderson's post. In the merging of two giants it makes much more sense to publicly display the unison of forces, to let people know how powerful is this new player. I guess "Strauss" will not touch the "Max Brenner" brand, in order to keep its coolness. It seems like "Elite" was too large to keep its identity through a merger, while "Max Brenner" was small enough to survive it. Kind of like dinosaurs and rodents, isn't it?

Life on Mars and time's arrow

With season 2 of Life on Mars about to air I find myself compelled to remark on the brilliant first season. Being a law abiding Israeli, as well as too lazy to bother with tedious and infinite downloads I have only seen season1 a few months ago, which is some kind of an excuse for only posting about it now.
As you probably recall season 1 opened with Sam Tyler being hit by a car in 2006, losing consciousness only to wake up back in 1973. The first evidence we get for this sudden and inexplicable transition is the fact that while Tyler hears Bowie's titular song in both times the means for its playing are suddenly changed, an old cassette player is replacing the shining iPod. Most references I have seen to this took it as a brilliant trick to convey the sudden turn in the plot. I believe it to be much more than a trick. In fact I see it as a metaphor to the entire season's most important theme - time's arrow and its distorted perception in our days.
Let's start with the change itself. There is much more to it than the replacement of a new trendy technological gadget by an old one, which might have been just as trendy back then. The iPod, even those with rather small capacity is replacement for what only a few years ago had to be a collection of numerous physical objects demanding quite a lot of storage space. Even further, and more important, it completely departs from what used to be an integral part of listening to music - the linearity of time. The iPod, allowing us to skip from one song to another regardless of artist or album is suddenly replaced by the most linear method of music consumption - the cassette, in which the most you can do to skip a song involves going through it in a higher speed. The illusion of flexible time flow, born through our digital technology suddenly collapses to the old well known but somewhat forgotten reality of time's arrow directionality.
And this is, in my humble opinion the most important theme of season 1. Tyler reaches 1973 with the feeling that he is there to correct wrongs, that the wrongs of the past can be undone, that for some reason he can actually ctrl-Z the rapes and murders of the opening episode, the disappearance of his father, the collapse of Manchester's textile industry, the emergence of football hooliganism. In all but the first part Tyler fails miserably (and while episode 1 ends with what might be a success I am not sure it could actually stops those rapes and murders from occurring 30 years later).
Sam Tyler is a typical thirty-something guy in the first decade of the 21st century. He is involved in some relationship but he is not marries and has no children. His girlfriend is probably not much younger. Yet they both feel they'll have plenty of time for children later. For him life is an endless field of choices to be made, like skipping between tabs in a browser. It takes being thrown back in time and eight episodes for him to realize that there is only the here and the now and that life is a cassette, not an iPod.

Back from the cold

Not sure why exactly, but I'm back. In the time since my last post I opened an LJ account, and a blog on Israblog, none of which lasted long. And here I am, again. I'm still contemplating a few options for the way this blog will go, at the very least I'll check the new blogger interface.

My life through magazines.

Here's a physics joke:
How comes the PRL shelves at the university get filled faster than the speed of light?
That's because they carry no information

Here's a list of magazines I keep contemplating getting a subscription to:
1. The New Yorker
2. Granta
3. The Idler
4. McSweeney's

The magazine I actually have a subscription to:
Halomot Be'Aspamia

Here's a list of other magazines I'd probably pick a copy of once in a while:
1. LRB
2. NYRB
3. Harper's
4. The NME
5. Eretz Ahaeret
6. Q Magazine
7. The Believer

No PRL, no PRB, not even Nature or Scientific American.

At 34, where did I go wrong? Who am I kidding?

Letters to Salon

Salon.com has this relatively new feature of posting letters in response to their articles. In an attempt to track my online writing I link here to my letters.
A letter regrding amazon's mechanical turk.
A letter regarding the review of Kevin Smith's Clerks II.
I guess those should be trackbacks or something but I'm not sure how to do those thing yet.

Paths not taken 1 - My life as a defunct web 1.0 guru

I used to run a Hebrew content site. It was rather primitive, updated on a quite rigid weekly schedule, had a simple mechanism allowing readers to post a short letter to the editor (me) and a way to automatically turn these letters into pieces in the next edition of the site. The weekly edition included about ten short pieces, each fitting into one screen of an old monochrome screen, longer pieces were split to parts. At first content was mostly based on short pieces I stole from weekend papers and an editorial, you could think of it as sort of an RSS reader actually. Then I was scorned for not supplying original content, and my weekend became dedicated to writing new pieces. I slowly accumulated a limited number of readers and a few other contributors. The site was named after the deceased Israeli newspaper Hadashot, with an ASCII logo. In my opening editorial I wrote about the idea that the two separate meanings of the Hebrew word "tikshoret" (media and communication) are now converging due to the emerging information age. The year was 1994 and the "site" was running on the IDF's manpower database system.
When I finally finished my military service and left for the university I found nobody willing to replace me and continue the work. Then about a year later I received a phone call asking for the technicalities of how to revive the site. For a few weeks I received by mail an envelope with the new edition in print. This time around many more people actually contributed their own pieces, the tone was much more political, I guess this was a major reason for the site being shut down after a few weeks.
Back then I was an avid reader of Mondo 2000 and Wired, browsing the shelves of the local Tower Records (the first, and then only one in Israel) for the new issues. Mondo 2000, with clear counterculture roots, was pointing at a new utopian future about to open, Wired was already looking at possible business models. After a while I subscribed to both magazines using Dyonun's import department. The Mondo 2000 subscription prematurely ended with the magazine's last issue. Wired became what it is up until today.
Upon starting my studies (Physics major and Computer science) I was still playing with the idea of using my previous experience as a way to enter the world of media, but was washed by a foolish superiority complex of academics. I've seen content sites emerging as one of the dominant formats of the web 1.0 era, and slowly realized that I've missed my chance.
At the time I ran this site I shared an IDF office with one of Israel's only true Internet gurus. For some reason his comment on my first editorial still echoes in my head. "You're aiming a bit too high" he told me. As time passed he changed his mind, at least by judging from his current projects and online presence. I remember the day, a few years ago, of seeing him in a newspaper piece about independent new sites in Israel, and the remorse I felt, I should have been there too, I could have been someone, I could have been a contender.