Morning post-storminess (snarky bovine edition):

There's a stretch of road near my house where it looks like you're headed downhill when you're not. This pic only gives a taste; it's more striking when you're there. It's a strong enough illusion that you have to show someone which way a ball (or what-have-you) will roll to convince them that downhill isn't in the direction it seems.

I like illusions because they are instructive. You can lecture someone about the fallibility of perception--or you can show them one good illusion.

Visual illusions are particularly instructive because of how much we rely on our vision, and how much we take it for granted. "I saw it with my own two eyes," we say--as if that settled it. The challenge is to continually remember that what we see is not just a function of what's out there but also a function of how we see--and that that also holds for figurative senses of "to see".

Truth is, I didn't set out to write about illusions. I went out to take a pic of afternoon storminess, and the road turned out to be the best image I got.

O readers, I haven't forgotten you.

I'm glad I don't feel obliged to blog every day. There's something to be said for not having readers refreshing n times a day (where n is a handful), suffering withdrawal symptoms if I pause for a while. I'm glad I don't have to queue up fluff to be posted automatically as time passes (as at least one popular blogger does) to satisfy a crushing demand for entertainment.

Upon reading this sentence on a blog a few days ago,

Clinton as Secretary of State, then, is either a brilliant move or a dunderheaded one, and only time will tell which it is.

I felt glad that I don't need to remark on everything that happens (or hasn't quite happened) even if I have little or nothing to say.

I am, however, relatively uninhibited about posting photos for no good reason. Here's one from this afternoon, to point out that it's autumn and to assure you that Mt. Whitney is still there.

And...! Happy nineteenth.

I missed seeing any migrating pelicans this year, but a friend got this pic a few weeks ago. Full-res version here.

photo: Brooks Hart

I was bummed to see proposition 8 pass. I take solace in the fact that the future looks better; 55% of voters voters under 40 years old rejected prop 8, as did 61% of voters under 30.

I also am heartened that in his speech last night, Barack Obama could speak of Americans "young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled." It's a small point, but Republicans generally still avoid mentioning gay people if they can. If they have to broach the subject, they tend to say "homosexual" to avoid sounding too encouraging.

I am not a one-issue voter. And Obama has to deliver more than words. But Mr. Obama has affirmed the dignity of gay people, and indeed people in general, more than his opponent has. For that and many other reasons, I am glad he won.

Elections entail counting. The allure of math (well, numeration) made firedoglake's contest irresistable; I guessed that the electoral college will split 359-179. Of the various ways to decompose 538 into two primes, that was the closest to intrade's prediction. Besides--359 is a fine prime in its own right, being one less than an especially round number (which is, in turn, one less than 19²).

359 through 361 is just a nice neighborhood.

There are some bizarre aspects to elections in the USA. The District of Columbia has no senators nor representative(s); in the very seat of our government, license plates say "taxation without representation".

The electoral college is anachronistic.

California allows its constitution to be amended by a mere majority vote, not something sensible like a 2/3 majority.

Yet, I really look forward to voting tomorrow.