sangsara.net

Month: December 2025

  • Week 51.25

    Week 51.25

    I shot these photos on an iPhone 17 Pro Max and emulated three classic Chinese B&W film stocks with AgBr: Lucky SHD 100, Friendship 100 Pan Film, and Shanghai GP3 100. The idea was to get the look of road trip snapshots from the 1990s that a traveler then might have taken.

    11 greatly biased observations from a first trip to China

    • The Great Firewall does indeed block the majority of household internet names in the west. Imagine testing if you’re online, what would you type in the address bar of your browser? Google? Nope. Any Facebook property? All social networks and chat platforms don’t work, with the exception of iMessage. However, this only applies to hotel WiFi networks and those provided by local ISPs. If you’re roaming on a cell network while using a foreign provider’s SIM, things work as expected (albeit routed through Chinese servers). I decided not to bother with VPNs and just trusted in HTTPS 😬
    • Powerbank rental machines are ubiquitous, even in places where you should never leave a box full of lithium-ion batteries, like out on the street in direct sunlight. You pay a few cents per hour (via QR code), and because they’ve landed on a common battery design between the many operating brands, it seems you can return one anywhere else after you’re done charging your devices. It’s great not having to carry your own around, but even given a high degree of civic integrity, I think getting adoption in a country where everyone already has their own (like Singapore today) would be tough.
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  • Week 50.25

    Week 50.25

    By the time you read this, I’ll be in China for the first time — behind the Great Firewall and probably unable to make contact with email and chat servers despite my VPN. If you don’t hear back from me, this is why! It’s Thursday and I’m writing this post in advance, so maybe there isn’t much to say yet. But let’s get started and I’m sure we can come up with something.

    Following up on last week’s topic of sardines, I rediscovered the joyful YouTube channel, Canned Fish Files w/ Matthew Carlson where the eponymous creator has so far filed 188 reports on canned fish from around the world. These seemingly absurd videos entertain because they’re so earnest, and comments I’ve seen note that they prove it’s possible to have a successful channel about anything, as long as you’re obsessed enough. He has also been called the James Hoffman of sardines, which I find accurate and hilarious. I encourage you to watch a few and join me on this adventure, but beware, some commenters note they went from never eating sardines to eating them regularly after watching his weird and nerdy reviews.

    I also bought enough Ayam brand sardines off Redmart this week that I got a free plushie of a taco holding a can of Ayam’s signature deenz in tomato sauce. Why a taco? It’s a mystery and I welcome your theories.

    On Wednesday evening I was able to get a few alums from my last design team to show up for a Christmas reunion. We had a bigger turnout last year but it’s tricky finding a date that works for everyone in December. With more advance notice, we might be able to do better next time, but I’m glad we went ahead and did something while we could. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt in recent times, it’s how to pull the trigger and not end up waiting for a perfect time that never comes.

    Returning to another recent topic, AI, I enjoyed reading the text of Cory Doctorow’s recent talk: The Reverse Centaur’s Guide to Criticizing AI. A “centaur” is when a human is augmented by a machine — horse body, human head. A reverse centaur, then, is when a human body is directed by, used up by, a machine. This is the kind of job where a computer tells you what to do simply because it can’t yet do it for itself. You’re a replaceable part of the equation. He provides an easy-to-grasp frame for what’s happening with the valuation of AI companies and what motivates the various players in this space. It’s an Ed Zitron essay, but one you’ll actually read and finish. It also serves as an abstract of his next book which will be out next June.

    I’ve been sequencing my next BLixTape playlist, collecting music I’ve been listening to in recent months. Together, volumes 6 and 7 will form the soundtrack of my 2025 — the main difference between these playlists and the end-of-year ones I used to do before is that these aren’t restricted to songs released in 2025. From a diaristic perspective, I think taking note of older songs I discovered or revisited captures a better overview of the year’s different phases, and the things I was into. This means nothing to anyone else, of course, but hopefully they are enjoyable playlists to put on regardless of context.

    Bonus: I’m reviving the iPod shuffle experience for myself with a playlist featuring 120 random songs from my library. I also made a simple Shortcut that refills it with a tap (although you have to manually clear existing tracks first).

    In the process of doing all this, I heard ROSALÍA’s Sauvignon Blanc again, and after 24 days of straight Spanish lessons in Duolingo, I was thrilled to discover that I understood certain parts more intuitively. Simple lines like “mi futuro se bien que sera dorado”, emerged with new magnitude and gave me goosebumps — aided by my imperfect comprehension, the music’s beauty rose to another level.

    I pulled out my iPhone to jot down: “High specificity in language creates greater distance from emotional truth.”

    Here’s something Cory Doctorow says in the aforementioned piece:

    I’ve given it a lot of thought, and here’s what I think art is: it starts with an artist, who has some vast, complex, numinous, irreducible feeling in their mind. And the artist infuses that feeling into some artistic medium. They make a song, or a poem, or a painting, or a drawing, or a dance, or a book, or a photograph. And the idea is, when you experience this work, a facsimile of the big, numinous, irreducible feeling will materialize in your mind.

    Expanding on this moment of “experiencing”, I’ve often noticed that many of the times I’ve been really moved by a work of art, there were gaps left to allow my mind to imbue it with the biggest significance it could. The art merely gestures in the direction the viewer should go, because meaning is equally made through labor on the receiving end (Roland Barthes, etc.). When you look at art, what you see is as defined and constrained by your own life experience as it is guided by the artist’s own.

    And so when I read translated poetry, the original Chinese title of a film, or imperfectly translate a lyric in my head, they might hit with staggering significance and meaning. The originals may be clumsy or not even that beautiful, but their gestures let me imagine their fullest potentials being reached. My bad Spanish might actually give me a richer experience with Lux than a more fluent speaker has because I have to project into the gaps. In art, imperfections are sometimes features, not bugs.

    I’m not suggesting that artists might try to be more vague, or that translators should aim to play it loose. It’s just that some of our most powerful encounters with art happen when we’re amateurs, outsiders, or bring incomplete context to the table.

    I’ve referred to this quality before as “high dynamic range” art — when you feel something more powerful than the artistic medium should have the bandwidth to transmit. It’s like having a printed photograph with the brightness and color of real life. It’s not physically possible, and yet we’ve all imagined ourselves seeing something in a photo for real, because our minds can fill in the blanks.

    To sum up, perfect translation and articulation might actually reduce emotional impact. High resolution imagery works when trying to explain a concept (one-way communication), but when you want people to feel, then abstraction, linguistic barriers, and layers of translation invite viewers to complete the canvas (two-way collaboration).

    Aside: In the spirit of using AI to complement and augment, I asked Claude to identify the thread running through my recent posts and it said the following.

    —

    I think you’re circling around a central anxiety/question: “What does it mean to be human when machines can do increasingly human things?”

    But you’re approaching it from multiple angles:

    • Translation: What gets lost when we perfect communication? (Week 47)
    • Cultural appropriation: Should artists stay in their lanes or cross boundaries? (Week 46)
    • Craft/design: What happens when AI can do the work? (Week 48)
    • Language specificity: Does perfection actually reduce meaning? (This week)

    The unifying theme:
    You’re consistently arguing that human limitations are actually generative:

    • Not speaking Spanish perfectly makes ROSALÍA more powerful
    • Imperfect translation creates “high dynamic range” emotion
    • Craft traditions matter even when they’re slower/costlier
    • Gaps in art let viewers co-create meaning

    The deeper question you might be asking: “If AI can do high-resolution, perfectly executed versions of creative work, does that mean messy human versions become obsolete? Or does it reveal that perfection was never the point?”

    Your answer seems to be that it wasn’t the point. Gaps, translations, and imperfections are where meaning lives.

  • Week 49.25

    Week 49.25

    • Canned sardines are my latest obsession. Before you imagine those fancy imported ones from Portugal with the beautifully illustrated tins, costing $20, no — not yet. And honestly, even the $10 ones in the photo are aspirational. But you know how you’re meant to eat two servings of oily fish a week for the Omega-3 heart health benefits? I thought I’d try to do a better job of that, and ended up falling in love with the convenience and versatility of little fish in tomato sauce or extra virgin olive oil. I’ve been having them on their own, on toast, with pasta and a little pesto, whatever. I even joined the r/cannedsardines subreddit, where other weirdos discuss them all day.
    • It was during a chance conversation with my parents that I learnt these healthy fish (including kippers and mackerel) are very high in purine and can lead to gout flare ups. Sure enough, search Reddit and you’ll find many canned fish enjoyers suddenly finding themselves in excruciating foot pain after eating three tins a day. To stay on the safe side, I’ve sadly started to restrict myself to two, maybe three servings a week.
    • Japan-based writer and walking influencer Craig Mod occasionally does “pop-up newsletters” to accompany his projects — say, a cross-country trek. He walks and takes photos during the day, then writes and posts these thoughtful, downright literary journal entries at night. Once the walk is over, the newsletter ends. I sign up for them but don’t read them as they come in because, like delicious sardines you savor, they’re too good to have to rush or get through. This week I finally read his last series from back in October, titled Between Two Mountains. Because it’s now over, the only ways to find them are his members-only archives, or having someone forward you the emails. I recommend subscribing to one of his more regular newsletters anyway, and you’ll be notified the next time a pop-up begins.
    • I read Morgan Housel’s The Psychology of Money which is notable for being a personal finance book that doesn’t belabor its points. There are 20 individual “learnings” that he wants to pass on, and some take up as little as a couple of pages. His latest book, The Art of Spending Money looks to fill a gap in a market where many pages are devoted to helping people build good saving habits, but not as many on what healthy spending looks like. Unfortunately, it’s fully booked out at the library and I’m 1,110th in line.
    • It’s taken me from Week 31.25 till now to go from owning a copy of Donkey Kong Bananza to playing it. It’s supposedly by the same team that made Super Mario Odyssey, and like that game it’s charming, delightful, and perfectly tuned for fun over frustration. I’m surprised at how easy it is, but that’s not a complaint at all. There are no 30-minute boss fights here. Nothing overstays its welcome, much like the book I just mentioned. I was alone on Sunday afternoon and started playing at 2pm — it was 6pm before I managed to tear myself away.
    • Bugonia is out for home viewing and I watched its ending sequence again because I loved it so much. No spoilers, but it utilizes Marlene Dietrich’s cover of Where Have All The Flowers Gone to brilliant and satisfying effect. I’ve known the song for a while (since Massive Attack referenced it on their Mezzanine album, probably) but never thought about what it says until this particular incarnation. It’s been in my head all week.
    • Did you know Norah Jones has a podcast called Playing Along (YouTube)? It’s a simple concept: she has different musical guests come in each week (recently Sarah McLachlan, Alessia Cara, Sam Smith) and they chat and play together in the studio. The conversations are super interesting for anyone who loves music because you get to hear discussions about technique and inspiration from people at the highest levels of their craft. This is what every artist has had the opportunity to do with the internet for the past two decades, but I can’t think of many who have! Apple Music artist-hosted shows are probably the closest thing, but they’re very radio like.
    • Speaking of people at the highest levels, I hereby record for posterity that two interesting executive departures from Apple were announced this week, John Giannandrea and Alan Dye, which prompted Michael and I to hop on a call and yap about it for a couple of hours.
    • So it’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas! The Vince Guaraldi Trio’s A Charlie Brown Christmas album has been pinned to the top of my Apple Music list where I can play it on every HomePod across the apartment — all is well.