2) There are a lot of reasons why LFLs may not always thrive in low-income neighborhoods (although there are quite a few in mine, and it’s no Beverly Hills), but I would suggest that it is not because the residents exist in some higher state of authenticity.

Unless you are James Cameron shooting Avatar III on a soundstage with (close to) a blank-cheque from the studio, you are still limited in terms of space (the constraints of the location given the size of the light and its supporting stand), time (the time to set up and adjust each light properly, including last-minute adjustments), labor (someone’s got to plug all that in, run the cables, etc.), and cost/availability (you don’t always get the lights you want for a given budget).

Beyond that, you’re also considering aperture and ISO from a creative standpoint; maybe you don’t want to shoot wide open for reasons of image control, and so you may spend your lumen budget on ensuring that a particular scene can be exposed at, say, f/5.6 at ISO 100. Or you may want to spend your lumens on lens filtration, which produces a specific effect but further cuts down the incident light.

In short, no, you do not have 10x light available to spend on frame rate, and for any marginal gains in raw output, most cinematographers are thinking about what creative choices it opens up for the film; I would never burn additional lumens to shoot at 120fps just for the sake of A/V fanboys on the internet, unless the scene requires slow-motion or high-speed capture for postproduction reasons. Technical choices in this industry should always be motivated by the need to solve creative problems effectively, quickly, and within budget.

If you think about how light falls off in proportion to the square of its distance from the source—and that generally actors don’t stand in one place, but move through large spaces where they must appear to be lit evenly—you start to see that this is not just a question of “efficient LED lighting.” Shooting at high frame rates requires an enormous amount of light that cannot easily (read: cheaply, quickly, without higher expenses) be brought to bear in a normal production outside of controlled studio conditions.

More satisfying (in my opinion) arcs tend to follow a psychoanalytic path: a character with some unaddressed pathological issue ends up in a serious crisis. The crisis forces them to acknowledge the issue and change slightly. The difference between a comedy and a tragedy is that in a tragedy, the change happens too late. (An interesting variant in tragedy is that the change happens in time, but unexpectedly turns out for the worse—think of the end of The Godfather.)

If by “ELRON” you mean L. Ron Hubbard—well, the shocks are worn out, the muffler’s falling off, and the tires are flat. The car’s totaled, and unless you have some personal attachment to it, I’d have it hauled off to the junkyard. (My opinion on King is more complicated—it’s a fine car, I suppose, if you’re partial to that make, but the brand ain’t what it used to be.)

This isn’t a great venue for sentence analysis, but reading PKD’s early, extremely funny, short story, “Oh, To Be A Blobel!” is instructive. [1] Read it aloud, if you can. Note the little details he throws away, the way he sneaks ironic jokes into seemingly objective descriptions. It’s a Borscht Belt routine masquerading as a science-fiction story, and perfectly constructed. But if this seems like “bad” writing to you, consider that you may not have entirely passed through his veil of irony.

[1] https://sickmyduck.narod.ru/pkd038-0.html

The slyly comic tone of the latter may surprise those who’ve only seen its rather dour film adaptation (“Blade Runner”), which the original novel resembles only slightly.

I’d also suggest that when talking about PKD, it’s especially important to distinguish between “cliché” and “trope,” since these two concepts are often improperly equated in popular TV-Trope-ified discourse. A cliché, e.g. “True love conquers all,” tends to lull the reader; it terminates further thought. But a trope is merely a familiar anchor point, an allusion to a literary tradition, and (potentially) an invitation to a dialogue between the current text and some previous work. (“The hero prepares by putting on his armor,” for example, is a trope that dates back to the Iliad.)

Dick often begins with a character or situation anchored in a familiar setting (possibly for more mercenary than aesthetic reasons—he was after all scraping together a living in the context of pulp paperback novels) but step by step strips away the anchors, leaving the reader untethered to settled meaning or “consensual reality.” The undercover narcotics cop turns out to be a schismatic, unaware that he’s surveilling himself. The noir-like investigator gets arrested by another investigator who seems to be his double, pulled into another precinct identical to his own… etc.

If the lack-of-respectability of his materials bothers you (as it seemed to bother Gopnik), it may be helpful to see PKD in the tradition of Kafka, and as a precursor to the post-modernists like Robert Coover, who gleefully and intentionally play games within familiar texts to comic and profound effect. But PKD really isn’t so far away from the most interesting of his much-maligned SF pulp colleagues. See A.E. van Vogt’s “The Weapon Shops of Isher,” where the author plays games with doubles, shifting narrators, and familiar pulp characters to intentionally strange and dislocating effect—although in his case, the kitsch never quite makes the transmuting leap into art.

[1] https://www.depauw.edu/sfs/backissues/5/lem5art.htm

[2] https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2024/11/14/multiple-worl...

[3] https://californiarevealed.org/do/7622580c-be04-46d6-831c-fc...

You can argue that some of his books were written too quickly, or deploy his usual tricks less successfully, but that doesn’t qualify as mediocrity. For that, look to most “hard” sci-fi, Reddit fan-fiction, and LLM-generated slop.

1) Create an array storing all unique edges of the faces (each edge being composed of a vertex pair V0, V1), as well as the two normals of the faces joined by that edge (N0 and N1).

2) For each edge, after transformation into view space: draw the edge if sign(dot(V0, N0)) != sign(dot(V0, N1)).

Note that both Annenberg and S&S rarely, if ever, publish the raw data used to draw these suspiciously blunt conclusions about media representation (in this case, about supposedly “dated and unrelatable romantic tropes”); they merely crank out glossy press releases designed to be regurgitated by overworked trade-magazine bloggers. Underneath these are lousy “self-reporting” surveys with data carefully massaged to fulfill an intended purpose.

There’s a lot of snake oil peddled in town, but this stuff irritates me the most, as it is often reported uncritically and discussed without any reflection on why these “studies” are conducted, or who funds them.

When you eventually hit the Great Wall of 16-bit real mode, I recommend switching to OpenWatcom [1], aka "the compiler that built Doom," which comes with something closer (relatively speaking) to a modern toolchain. DJGPP [2] has been recommended as well, although I found it more trouble to set up.

[0] https://winworldpc.com/product/borland-c/30

[1] https://github.com/open-watcom/open-watcom-v2

[2] https://www.delorie.com/djgpp/

My only (and very minor) complaint is that it relies on the ancient DOSBox-0.74-3, rather than one of the forks with broader support and better emulation of exotic hardware, like DOSBox-X.

With regard to UTM SE, I’ve had mixed results as well. For best results, I recommend installing Windows 95, which was very performant. (Otherwise, keep in mind that the SE stands for ‘Slow Edition’ — really.)

Incidentally, while re-reading Chandler's "The Lady in the Lake," I realized that the scene in which Marlowe meets his employer, dozing off in a "high-backed chair" in his club's library, was a description of the library at the Los Angeles Athletic Club. Today, if you're a member (or know one), you can pop up to the third floor, still preserved in all of its interwar ersatz-Gilded-Age splendor, and doze off in one of those distinctive high-backed chairs after a drink and schvitz.

It turns out that Chandler had worked across the street when employed by Dabney Oil, and visited the L.A. Athletic Club frequently.

But in our vastly wealthy, highly-productive 21st-century society, this situation need not be not zero-sum; production can be scaled up on demand, priorities can be shifted, costs can be absorbed. What’s constrained in this case is not supply of the life-saving resource, but political and economic will over inertia.

In this case, calling this an “ethical dilemma” stretches both the definitions of “ethics” and “dilemma” to the breaking point. There is a clear right answer here—but the insistence on choosing the wrong answer over and over, to keep costs down and avoid long-delayed reforms to medical staffing and supply chains, leads to tragic outcomes in which a patient’s survival is determined by institutional bureaucracy. That would be a much more useful framing!