and there’s also part 2

John Salvatier:

Before you’ve noticed important details they are, of course, basically invisible. It’s hard to put your attention on them because you don’t even know what you’re looking for. But after you see them they quickly become so integrated into your intuitive models of the world that they become essentially transparent. Do you remember the insights that were crucial in learning to ride a bike or drive? How about the details and insights you have that led you to be good at the things you’re good at?

This means it’s really easy to get stuck. Stuck in your current way of seeing and thinking about things. Frames are made out of the details that seem important to you. The important details you haven’t noticed are invisible to you, and the details you have noticed seem completely obvious and you see right through them. This all makes makes it difficult to imagine how you could be missing something important.

“I know that I know nothing”, meaning: the less we know about something, the less aware we are of its complexity.

ISO 3103 is a standard published by the International Organization for Standardization (commonly referred to as ISO), specifying a standardized method for brewing tea, possibly sampled by the standardized methods described in ISO 1839. It was originally laid down in 1980 as BS 6008:1980 by the British Standards Institution.[1] It was produced by ISO Technical Committee 34 (Food products), Sub-Committee 8 (Tea).

Many fences of South London’s housing estates are former stretchers used in the Second World War. From the Stretcher Railing Society:

These stretchers were originally made so that Air Raid Protection officers could carry injured people during bombing attacks in the Blitz. Over 600,000 stretchers were built from steel to enable them to be easily disinfected in highly-feared gas attacks. When the war ended there was a large surplus of stretchers and many of London’s housing estates had had their original railings removed to serve the war effort.

The council wants to remove them.

This is my usual recurring reminder that WE ARE GOING TO RUN OUT OF BANANAS.

Did you know that the banana we eat today (the Cavendish) became popular because the banana we used to eat in the past (the Gros Michel) was rendered commercially exinct due to the ‘Panama disease’, which causes the banana trees to rot from the inside:

The breed chosen by the industry to replace it, the Cavendish, was resistant to that particular strain of Panama Disease, but it wasn’t as sturdy as the Gros Michel. It transformed the industry into the one we know today, Mr. Koeppel said, requiring boxes, refrigeration and advanced ripening technology.

Today, almost all export bananas in the world are Cavendish. Chosen more for its disease resistance, it is not necessarily the most flavorful variety, according to Mr. Koeppel. He called it the McDonald’s of bananas. In India, where there are hundreds of banana breeds, the Cavendish is known as the hotel banana.

And the problem is — it’s happening again:

The Cavendish is susceptible to a new strain of Panama Disease known as Tropical Race 4, or TR4. The Cavendish is essentially a clone, and while genetically identical bananas that look and act alike are good for business, Mr. Koeppel said, “when one gets sick, they all get sick.

“There is no question that the Cavendish banana is going to be severely stricken by Panama Disease,” Mr. Koeppel said. “There are reputable plant pathologists saying this, not just banana-loving journalists.”

Loneliness is absolute. Anything else is an illusion. Never expect anything but trouble. If something nice happens, all the better. Just don’t imagine you can do away with loneliness. A sense of togetherness can be created in, say, religion, politics, love, art. But loneliness is still all-encompassing. The treacherous part is that every once in a while you’re struck by an illusion of togetherness. Just remember that it is an illusion. That makes it easier when everything returns to normal.

Scenes From a Marriage, Bergman

Bergman once remarked that death is “a very, very wise arrangement” – it offers a bookend to our lives, which we can infuse with meaning through love. There is suffering in the world, and we must try to comprehend it, even in its senselessness, but above all we must seek to mitigate it with mercy and generosity. Bergman would like us to remember Agnes’s diary entry: “I have received the best gift anyone could have in this life. The gift has many names: affinity, fellowship, human contact, affection. I believe this is what is called grace”.

It’s hard to remain curious, because all the processes of curiosity tend to inhibit each other; a precarious balance must be struck. Being curious requires an emotional sacrifice. That is how group values are negotiated socially, and that is what makes curiosity a virtue.