I Really Prefer Later MST3K

I’ve been watching a fair amount of Mystery Science Theater 3000 lately. I should say, re-watching it, as I’ve been watching episodes I’ve already seen before, often several times before. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I really prefer later seasons of MST3K. I used to think that I had preferred Mike to Joel as the host, but I’ve discovered that’s a bit of an artifact of how I saw MST3K.

I began watching MST3K in college. I would watch it in the common room of the dormitory I was in, which was how I was introduced to it (someone had put it on the TV in the common room and it caught my attention). This was towards the end of season 8. Later on I started collecting MST3K DVD box sets and that’s where I ran into Joel episodes. With a few exceptions (most notably Cave Dwellers and Manhunt in Space) I didn’t like them nearly as much as I enjoyed the Mike episodes I had seen back in college. I concluded, naturally enough, that I just preferred Mike to Joel.

Then I got even more boxed sets and watched some of the Mike episodes from seasons five and six.

While it is still true that I do generally prefer Mike to Joel, I’ve come to realize that the biggest factor is that the writers just got better over the years. Having watched some special features, they put more time and effort into the jokes as the years went on, which certainly improved the quality. More than anything else, though, the writers learned to work with the movies, rather than working against them.

In the early years, it was not uncommon for Joel or the bots to talk over important parts of the movie, making the movie hard to follow. This made the entire experience less fun, since you didn’t get a chance to enjoy any of the movie, but worse was that it eliminated the possibility for jokes about plot holes. You can’t make jokes about plot holes if no one knows what the plot is.

Allowing the audience to hear the movie had a second benefit, which was that it encouraged the jokes to be about the movie. Obviously, they weren’t always about the movie, and there were plenty of good jokes which were tangential to the movie or just based on visual coincidences or whatever. Still, a lot of the really enjoyable jokes were about the movie that we were watching, and that was a lot more fun.

I don’t want to make too much of this. Cave Dwellers is one of my favorite episodes and it’s from the third season. I also really enjoyed King Dinosaur, which was from the second season. Still, I find that the pattern holds that later seasons tended to be better, and it’s not really surprising that the MST3K crew got better at what they did when they had more practice.

Throwing Out Food is Hard

My mother’s side of the family is all Greek (my maternal grandparents were a Greek immigrant and a first generation American whose parents were both Greek immigrants). From that side of the family I inherited the idea that it is a sin to waste food. (Well, that it is especially sinful, since all waste is, technically speaking, imperfect and in that sense sinful.) Part of this is that Greece has always been poor; as someone put it—I don’t know who—there’s little in Greece besides goats, olives, rocks, and philosophy. However, I’ve been coming to learn that it’s not just that.

Greece had been oppressed by Turkey for hundreds of years, which certainly did nothing to make food plentiful. Then the first World War made food scarce throughout Europe because war is always destructive, and of food in particular it is destructive in a variety of ways. Then there was the Great Depression and the various food scarcities that that introduced. So the idea that food is very precious and never to be wasted certainly came from somewhere.

But that’s the thing—I know where it came from. My Greek relatives thought it terrible to waste food because food was scarce and it was important to eat every Calorie you could because you might have to rely on them for days, weeks, or more. During the second World War, starvation was a real problem in Greece. One German administrator (the Nazis had conquered Greece during WW2) famously wired his superiors in Germany, “send wheat or coffins.”

Starvation is not a problem in modern America. Apart from the way that obesity is the major health concern of our times, this was really brought home to me by an African grad student I knew when I was in grad school, who asked me the simple question: “what’s the longest you ever went without eating involuntarily?” I had never considered the question before and was shocked that my best guess was six hours, perhaps eight. (This was radically different from his own experience in Africa, despite being the son of a chief, if not the first son and not of the chief’s first wife.)

This is not to say that food cannot become scarce in America. Disasters can happen. Times can change. But we live in the times in which we live, not in times that may come. And while it can be wise to prepare for bad times, it’s not really practical to lay in five+ decades worth of multi-decade-shelf-life food stores and in any event that’s not the food we buy to eat on a daily basis, anyway.

(There is also no point in bringing up places which don’t have the abundance of food that America does, because their main problem is not the inability to grow food but poor logistics (roads, economic & political stability, etc.) which means we can’t, realistically, ship them our excess food no matter what we do.)

In our current environment and for the foreseeable future, we can grow quite a bit more food than we can eat. And what’s more, we should. In an uncertain world it would be madness to try to grow exactly the amount of food that people will eat. That would mean that anything going wrong, anywhere, would result in people starving. We absolutely should aim to grow more food than we can eat so that even when things go wrong—and they certainly will—we still have plenty of food. Which means that the only open question is whether we waste that food at the individual level or whether we are individually efficient and waste the food as part of government programs where we pay people to collect the uneaten food and destroy it (once it’s too old to be eaten). Between those two, the former is more efficient, especially at the edges of individual uncertainty, such as suddenly needing more food or mice getting into one’s pantry and needing to lean more heavily on the food in the fridge.

Despite all that, I still find it very hard to throw out food. A part of me really wants to hoard it and let it choke up my shelves until I finally get around to using it—even though I’ve no interest in eating it anymore and it is probably six months past tasting good. That would certainly make sense if the Turks or the Germans were making starvation a reality, but in America , right now, that does no one any good, and does everyone who lives here very minor harm (it’s harder to find the things that people do want because the shelves are too clogged).

It’s curious how this sort of thing works. Sometimes it’s very hard to accept what one knows to be true.

(These thoughts were occasioned by me developing the willpower to actually throw a bunch of stuff out and clean out a bunch of the shelves, so don’t fear for me. I’m in no danger of being crushed by seven foot tall piles of stuff.)

A Lot of Classics Aren’t Classics

As my children grow older and I continue to consider what books, movies, and TV shows to recommend, I’m increasingly coming to the realization that a great deal of what made up the “classics”—stuff from the 1930s through the 1970s—actually aren’t classics. They spoke to the generation they were written for, and a little bit after that, but they don’t speak to the universal human condition. It only felt universal at the time because it was the dominant lens through which everything was viewed.

Take classic Science Fiction: it’s not all garbage, but a shockingly large amount of it actually was. It’s not its fault, precisely; the problem is that it reflected the societal chaos of the inter-war and post-ww2 periods. Unmoored from any sense of human nature, it expresses nothing of any value to people who haven’t grown up in a similar cultural maelstrom.

Even a lot of Englightenment and post-Enlightenment era classics suffer from a similar sort of limitation. Take one of the great romantic-era poems, The Tyger, by William Blake. That’s the one that begins:

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

It’s a very well constructed poem, but when we come to one of its best verses:

When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

The problem is: the answer is yes. Any well-educated child knows that. God looked on all he made and saw that it was very good.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good poem. But it loses a lot of its power when you’ve received an even mildly decent education.

A lot of classic science fiction boils down to, “maybe we can fornicate a lot on other worlds.” Maybe you can, but it will still be wrong. It will still be lying to yourself about what you’re actually doing. On a lonely planet with no sun, warmed only by volcanic activity where every man who visits automatically gets twenty concubines with ten breasts each, fornication will still just pretending that one can have the happiness of having children without any of the work of having them. (At its best; at its worst, it will still just be drug addiction to endogenously produced drugs.) A story in which unhappy people pretend that they’re happy and then that’s it, that’s the end, the author is pretending the guy is happy too—that isn’t a good story even if you set it on Mars.

All of this stuff was new and exciting when desperately unhappy people who still had the optimism of youth thought that perhaps technology offered a way to escape and then told each other fantasies of that working out. That’s really what a shockingly large amount of classic science fiction really was.

Movies, oddly, tended to be better, in that they tended to be morality plays. They were mostly variations on men whose reach exceeded their grasp trying to take the power of gods and then being smashed by the natural consequences of their inability to control the power they put their hands on. In some ways the greatest of these, or at least the most explicit, is Forbidden Planet.

I don’t have any grand conclusions to this. There is good stuff among these “classics.” It’s just so much fewer and farther between than I had realized when I was a kid, and I’m realizing this is quite a surprise to me.

Buying a Car is Strange

My wife and I recently got into the market for a new car and in consequence did some car shopping. This is a strange experience.

In one sense it’s a fairly straightforward activity. You decide on approximately what you want, then read up on the various offerings in that niche and pick suits you best. The car market is so mature (and regulated) these days that while there are better and worse options, there aren’t any bad options. But the very fact that there are no bad options makes the process more difficult.

If there were bad options, they would be easy to rule out, and one would feel like one has done some definite work. When all of the options are good options, a lot of research can leave one feeling like one still doesn’t know anything.

Worse, this is a very expensive decision that one gets very little practice in making.

Even worse, it’s more-or-less the industry standard to lie in various standard ways that, because they’re universally known, aren’t really dishonest.

The biggest example of this standard lying are the prices of vehicles on carmaker’s websites. The prices listed are the price of the vehicle at the factory at which it was made. However, no one buys vehicles at the factory (with some incredibly rare exceptions that mostly apply to foreign sports cars, as I understand). In consequence there is always a delivery charge on the vehicle, usually somewhere in the range of about $1200. It is not cheap to bring a car thousands of miles away so it is not unreasonable that it must be paid for, but it is misleading that the prices are quoted in a configuration that is not a normal way to get it.

Speaking of which, the starting prices are usually for models which are not how anyone gets the vehicle, as can be evidenced by the way that they’re virtually never in stock in the dealer’s inventories. Admittedly, in the last several years very little has been in stock due to the vehicle shortages caused by the non-expansion of fabrication capacity of obsolete semiconductor nodes. This has finally eased, at least somewhat, though, and yet a search of dealer inventories almost always shows no base models available. (The major exception to this in my area is Tesla, who actually had base model 3 vehicles in stock, some even to the point of being slightly discounted for being on the lot for over a month.)

The higher-end models frequently (though not always) involve important features before you get to the “luxury” version, too. Adaptive cruise control was often missing on the base model and available on higher end models. The result was that cars which looked cheaper than competitor’s models turned out to be extremely similar in price once one selected the models which gave feature-parity. This probably shouldn’t be surprising since car-making is largely mature and is certainly highly competitive.

The main exception to this is electric cars, which is nowhere near a mature market. The landscape for electric cars is different, though in parallel ways. On the one hand, electric cars tend to be very feature-rich in their base models, often the result of going the route of complete computer-control of features. The epitome of this is probably Tesla, though others are fairly similar; instead of an array of buttons there’s one large touchscreen and the central computer controls everything. This saves on cost (injection-molded buttons are not cheap, and nor are wire harnesses to connect them all to inputs, and buttons are notoriously failure-prone in the electrical engineering world) but without sacrificing quality, at least if the touchscreen interface is done well. The result of having a computer control everything is that it’s inexpensive to add features which are normally only found on high-end cars. The bigger thing you sacrifice on the low-end model of electric cars is range. Higher-end models typically feature 300-350 miles of range, while low-end models will feature 200-250 miles of range. And these are right in the area for driving that makes a big difference. It wouldn’t matter much of it was 800 miles vs 900 miles of range; people can’t drive that far without long rests anyway. 200 miles of range is less than three hours of driving at seventy miles per hour, which is very much within the range of what’s possible and even normal for human beings to drive.

And, of course, the range numbers on electric vehicles are misleading, too. This is largely the EPA’s fault because they developed the standard for measuring range which everyone quotes. As far as I can make out, their estimation of range is based on driving at thirty miles per hour at 65 degree Fahrenheit in beautiful weather. That’s actually a bit of an exaggeration, but they do make the range estimates very heavily city-driving based, which tend to be a best-case for electric cars for two main reasons: speed and regenerative braking. Speed is really the big one; regenerative braking just means that all of the stopping imposes very little inefficiency. City driving is typically done at speeds of 20-40 miles per hour and wind resistance is pretty negligible at these speeds. When you’re going at 65 or 70 miles per hour, wind resistance becomes far more significant and this meaningfully cuts into the range of electric vehicles. (This is part of why electric vehicles work so hard to be aerodynamic.) This is an issue on gasoline vehicles as well, though people tend not to notice nearly so much because gasoline engines are generally designed to be able to power far more acceleration than they normally provide and so they never get near their peak efficiency. This is why some hybrid designs add an electric motor on the rank shaft to help with acceleration and thus size the gasoline engine to be at peak efficiency at highway speeds (The Honda Insight of the early 2000s used this approach and with its tiny 3-cylinder engine got 49MPG highway.)

Anyway, once you figure in the inefficiency of driving at 65MPH, possibly needing to spend energy on heating or headlights or other things, and take into account the fact that you want to always keep at least about twenty miles in reserve for emergencies, 200 EPA miles of range makes for a very iffy proposition on road trips. This is a place where Tesla does better than most—in contrast to its “lie to me” button on the order page which defaults to showing an imaginary number that takes into account every possible savings they can think of including not having to do oil changes over the course of five years as if it were the purchase price. The websites of Ford and Kia feel like they’re trying to hide the range of the base model until the last possible moment. (Of course, all of this changes frequently, I’m only speaking of how things were in October through December of the year of our Lord 2023.)

The electric car situation is likely to improve significantly within a few years. There are several improvements in battery chemistries which are currently in the process of commercialization which promise to improve energy density, cost, and charging rate. Moreover, it’s likely that at least some of these will work out because there are so many different approaches, many of which can be combined into other batteries. There are solid-state and semi-solid-state batteries which are very promising. There are also improvements in LFP (aka LiFePO4, aka Lithium-Iron-Phosphate) batteries, including ones that add manganese to achieve Lithium-Ion like levels of energy density. And there are a bunch of other improvements in battery chemistries that are being worked on; it seems likely that at least some of these will work out. If we can get to base models with 350 miles of range and charging times cut in half, that cost about $10k less than current base models, it will be a huge improvement in the viability of electric cars for most people, and I think that these improvements are plausible by 2040. That also gives time for the building out of the infrastructure to support charging electrical vehicles, which needs to happen no slower than the rate of adoption of electric vehicles. The good news is that most of the time people who live in houses can charge their cars at home, and the electric grid is already well build-out to houses. (You don’t need to charge super fast at home; if you charge at a rate of 8kW you can fully charge an 80kWHr battery in 10 hours. That’s the power draw of a moderate-sized house AC unit or around twice the draw of an electric oven. And it’s rare to need to pull into your house with 0% left.)

Anyway, it’s weird to have to learn all of this stuff and for a $30k to $50k decision to rest on the results of this research in a relatively short space of time, and with no practice, and to have to get used to the standard lies in order to understand what they’re actually communicating just to forget it all for, God willing, another ten years.