emin kuliyev/Shutterstock

Are diseases genetic? That's the simplified and distorted mantra we hear every day in the media -- that scientists have just discovered the gene causing this or that disease.

The truth is that genes only very rarely cause diseases. An illuminating new study in the journal Science Translational Medicine helps clarify what geneticists have been trying to explain to us for years: genes influence, but they don't determine.

Gene expression means that you could have the exact same gene as someone else but have no way of knowing what the actual effect of that gene is going to be.

The just-published study examines how often identical twins get the same diseases. Reviewing records of 53,666 identical twins in the United States, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, and Norway, researchers tabulated how well genes predict the chance of getting a disease. The answer is that they really can't. Predictions based on genes turned out to be very close to useless. As Gina Kolata summed up in The New York Times: "While sequencing the entire DNA of individuals is proving fantastically useful in understanding diseases and finding new treatments, it is not a method that will, for the most part, predict a person's medical future."

Both the study and Times reporting are refreshing. For years, twin studies have been used to convince the public how strongly our traits are based in genetics. Many of us have argued that such "heritability" studies were gross distortions of the genetic reality. Now perhaps twin studies can be used to show the actual relationship between genes and development.

Here's the reality of how genes really work: Genes are not blueprints with elaborate preset instructions for eye color, thumb size, mathematical quickness, musical sensitivity, breast cancer, etc. Instead, they are more like volume knobs and switches. Think of a giant control board inside every cell of your body. Many of those knobs and switches can be turned up/down/on/off at any time -- by another gene or by a minuscule environmental input. This flipping and turning -- called "gene expression" -- takes place constantly. It begins the moment a child is conceived and doesn't stop until she takes her last breath. Rather than giving us hardwired instructions on how a trait must be expressed, this process of gene-environment interaction drives a unique developmental path for every unique individual.

Gene expression means that you could have the exact same gene as someone else -- as identical twins do -- but have no way of knowing what  the actual effect of that gene is going to be. It will depend on various developmental life circumstances. We could clone Einstein and we really don't know if he's going to turn out to be an Einstein.

Remember gene expression the next time someone mentions an "innate musical talent," or a "natural-born swimmer," or "the math gene." As a general rule, traits and diseases are developmental, not gene-determined.

emin kuliyev/Shutterstock

Are diseases genetic? That's the simplified and distorted mantra we hear every day in the media -- that scientists have just discovered the gene causing this or that disease.

The truth is that genes only very rarely cause diseases. An illuminating new study in the journal Science Translational Medicine helps clarify what geneticists have been trying to explain to us for years: genes influence, but they don't determine.

Gene expression means that you could have the exact same gene as someone else but have no way of knowing what the actual effect of that gene is going to be.

The just-published study examines how often identical twins get the same diseases. Reviewing records of 53,666 identical twins in the United States, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, and Norway, researchers tabulated how well genes predict the chance of getting a disease. The answer is that they really can't. Predictions based on genes turned out to be very close to useless. As Gina Kolata summed up in The New York Times: "While sequencing the entire DNA of individuals is proving fantastically useful in understanding diseases and finding new treatments, it is not a method that will, for the most part, predict a person's medical future."

Both the study and Times reporting are refreshing. For years, twin studies have been used to convince the public how strongly our traits are based in genetics. Many of us have argued that such "heritability" studies were gross distortions of the genetic reality. Now perhaps twin studies can be used to show the actual relationship between genes and development.

Here's the reality of how genes really work: Genes are not blueprints with elaborate preset instructions for eye color, thumb size, mathematical quickness, musical sensitivity, breast cancer, etc. Instead, they are more like volume knobs and switches. Think of a giant control board inside every cell of your body. Many of those knobs and switches can be turned up/down/on/off at any time -- by another gene or by a minuscule environmental input. This flipping and turning -- called "gene expression" -- takes place constantly. It begins the moment a child is conceived and doesn't stop until she takes her last breath. Rather than giving us hardwired instructions on how a trait must be expressed, this process of gene-environment interaction drives a unique developmental path for every unique individual.

Gene expression means that you could have the exact same gene as someone else -- as identical twins do -- but have no way of knowing what  the actual effect of that gene is going to be. It will depend on various developmental life circumstances. We could clone Einstein and we really don't know if he's going to turn out to be an Einstein.

Remember gene expression the next time someone mentions an "innate musical talent," or a "natural-born swimmer," or "the math gene." As a general rule, traits and diseases are developmental, not gene-determined.

TO: sjobs@apple.com
FROM: ds@davidshenk.com
SUBJECT: Thank you

Dear Steve,

Thank you. One afternoon in 1981, my father brought home an Apple II Plus for his three sons to marvel at, play with, learn from, imagine on. Thank you for that. In 1984, I was a freshman in college and my not-rich-but-indulgent Dad didn't think twice about sending me a check to buy the first Mac so that I could write my school papers on it. I was annoyingly self-righteous and entitled, and I shouted that day at a bank manager who explained that Daddy's check would take a week or more to clear; this made no sense to me and was not ok because my Mac was waiting for me that day at the university computer store. (I was wrong to be so rude, but right about the check-clearing nonsense.) That first Mac was a thing of wonder, a word and graphic sandbox, a brain extender. I wrote on it furiously, many hours every day, and learned to correct and improve my ideas. I could backspace over my third-rate thoughts and turn them into second-rate thoughts. Thank you for that extraordinary tool.

After that came the upgrades and I cursed you for the first time for cleverly planning my machine's obsolescence. But did I hesitate to buy a Mac 512K? Or a Mac Plus after that? Or an SE/30 after that? Or a Classic after that? Of course not. You were gone from Apple then, I know, but these machines were all your children. Thank you for all of them.

When I was earning about eight or nine thousand bucks a year in my early 20s, I spent about three thousand for the Powerbook 140. I wrote my first book on a 180, my second and third on a 2400c -- loved that machine. You killed it when you came back to Apple and I cursed you again. But I was still damned glad to see you back.

In the late '90s, everyone was dumping Apple. I tried Windows for a few weeks and couldn't stand it. Ugh. I stayed, and wrote my fourth book on a Lombard G3 -- a bit inelegant in my view, and also it spontaneously caught fire in front of me in the summer of 2000. But the book was saved, you replaced the machine, and all was quickly forgiven. What's a small desk fire among old friends?

We don't know each other personally and that's probably for the best. You've been pretty tough on some people over the years -- obviously an extension of your extraordinarily high standards. In a sense, you've become *the* icon of high standards. I suspect I'm far from the only Steve Jobs fan who has wondered whether the brashness is necessary for the boldness. My guess is that you've wrestled with this yourself. I think that's one of the core challenges we all face as human beings: demand excellence of ourselves and one another, but try to forgive the many stumbles along the way.

Thank you, and thank you again. In my own unchurchy way, I'll be praying, along with millions of others, for your health and comfort in the coming months.

Your admiring customer,

David Shenk

TO: sjobs@apple.com
FROM: ds@davidshenk.com
SUBJECT: Thank you

Dear Steve,

Thank you. One afternoon in 1981, my father brought home an Apple II Plus for his three sons to marvel at, play with, learn from, imagine on. Thank you for that. In 1984, I was a freshman in college and my not-rich-but-indulgent Dad didn't think twice about sending me a check to buy the first Mac so that I could write my school papers on it. I was annoyingly self-righteous and entitled, and I shouted that day at a bank manager who explained that Daddy's check would take a week or more to clear; this made no sense to me and was not ok because my Mac was waiting for me that day at the university computer store. (I was wrong to be so rude, but right about the check-clearing nonsense.) That first Mac was a thing of wonder, a word and graphic sandbox, a brain extender. I wrote on it furiously, many hours every day, and learned to correct and improve my ideas. I could backspace over my third-rate thoughts and turn them into second-rate thoughts. Thank you for that extraordinary tool.

After that came the upgrades and I cursed you for the first time for cleverly planning my machine's obsolescence. But did I hesitate to buy a Mac 512K? Or a Mac Plus after that? Or an SE/30 after that? Or a Classic after that? Of course not. You were gone from Apple then, I know, but these machines were all your children. Thank you for all of them.

When I was earning about eight or nine thousand bucks a year in my early 20s, I spent about three thousand for the Powerbook 140. I wrote my first book on a 180, my second and third on a 2400c -- loved that machine. You killed it when you came back to Apple and I cursed you again. But I was still damned glad to see you back.

In the late '90s, everyone was dumping Apple. I tried Windows for a few weeks and couldn't stand it. Ugh. I stayed, and wrote my fourth book on a Lombard G3 -- a bit inelegant in my view, and also it spontaneously caught fire in front of me in the summer of 2000. But the book was saved, you replaced the machine, and all was quickly forgiven. What's a small desk fire among old friends?

We don't know each other personally and that's probably for the best. You've been pretty tough on some people over the years -- obviously an extension of your extraordinarily high standards. In a sense, you've become *the* icon of high standards. I suspect I'm far from the only Steve Jobs fan who has wondered whether the brashness is necessary for the boldness. My guess is that you've wrestled with this yourself. I think that's one of the core challenges we all face as human beings: demand excellence of ourselves and one another, but try to forgive the many stumbles along the way.

Thank you, and thank you again. In my own unchurchy way, I'll be praying, along with millions of others, for your health and comfort in the coming months.

Your admiring customer,

David Shenk

Large rocks, severed heads, and flaming pots of oil rained down on Baghdad, capital of the vast Islamic Empire, as its weary defenders scrambled to reinforce gates, ditches, and the massive stone walls surrounding the fortress city's many brick and teak palaces. Giant wooden manjaniq catapults bombarded distant structures while the smaller, more precise arradah catapult guns pelted individuals with grapefruit-sized rocks. Arrows flew thickly and elite horsemen assaulted footmen with swords and spears. "The horses . . . trample the livers of courageous young men," lamented the poet al-Khuraymi, "and their hooves split their skulls." Outside the circular city's main wall--100 feet high, 145 feet thick, and six miles in circumference--soldiers pressed forward with battering rams while other squads choked off supply lines of food and reinforcements. Amid sinking boats and burning rafts, bodies drifted down the Tigris River.

The impenetrable "City of Peace" was crumbling. In the fifty years since its creation in A.D. 762, young Baghdad had rivaled Constantinople and Rome in its prestige and influence. It was a wildly fertile axis of art, science, and religion, and a bustling commercial hub for trade routes reaching deep into Central Asia, Africa, and Europe. But by the late summer of A.D. 813, after nearly two years of civil war (be¬tween brothers, no less), the enlightened Islamic capital was a smoldering, starving, bloody heap.

In the face of disorder, any human being desperately needs order -- some way to manage, if not the material world, at least one's understanding of the world. In that light, perhaps it's no real surprise that, as the stones and arrows and horses' hooves thundered down on Baghdad, the protected core of the city hosted a different sort of battle. Within the round city's imperial inner sanctum, secure behind three thick, circular walls and many layers of gate and guard, under the luminescent green dome of the Golden Gate Palace, Muhammad al-Amin, the sixth caliph of the Abbasid Empire, spiritual descendant of (and distant blood relation to) the Prophet Muhammad, sovereign of one of the largest do¬minions in the history of the world, was playing chess against his favorite eunuch Kauthar.

A trusted messenger burst into the royal apartment with urgently bad news. More inglorious defeats in and around the city were to be re¬ported to the caliph. In fact, his own safety was now in jeopardy.

But al-Amin would not hear of it. He waved off his panicked emissary.

"O Commander of the faithful," implored the messenger, according to the medieval Islamic historian Jirjis al-Makin. "This is not the time to play. Pray arise and attend to matters of more serious moment."

It was no use. The caliph was absorbed in the board. A chess game in progress is--as every chess spouse quickly learns--a cosmos unto itself, fully insulated from an infant's cry, an erotic invitation, or war. The board may have only thirty-two pieces and sixty-four squares, but within that confined space the game has near-infinite depth and possibility. An outsider looking on casually might find the intensity incomprehensible. But anyone who has played the game a few times understands how it can be engrossing in the extreme. Quite often, in the middle of an interesting game, it's almost as if reality has been flipped inside out: the chess game in motion seems to be the only matter of substance, while any hint of the outside world feels like an annoying irrelevance.

The messier the external world, the more powerful this inverted dynamic can be. Perhaps that is why Caliph al-Amin, who sensed that his hours were numbered, preferred to soak in the details of his chess battlefield rather than reports of the calamitous siege of his city. On the board he could see the whole action. On the board he could neatly make sense of significant past events and carefully plan his future. On the board he still might win.

"Patience my friend," the caliph calmly replied to his messenger standing only a few feet away and yet a world apart. "I see that in a few moves I shall give Kauthar checkmate."

Not long after this, al-Amin and his men were captured. The sixth Abbasid caliph, victor in his final chess game, was swiftly beheaded.

Large rocks, severed heads, and flaming pots of oil rained down on Baghdad, capital of the vast Islamic Empire, as its weary defenders scrambled to reinforce gates, ditches, and the massive stone walls surrounding the fortress city's many brick and teak palaces. Giant wooden manjaniq catapults bombarded distant structures while the smaller, more precise arradah catapult guns pelted individuals with grapefruit-sized rocks. Arrows flew thickly and elite horsemen assaulted footmen with swords and spears. "The horses . . . trample the livers of courageous young men," lamented the poet al-Khuraymi, "and their hooves split their skulls." Outside the circular city's main wall--100 feet high, 145 feet thick, and six miles in circumference--soldiers pressed forward with battering rams while other squads choked off supply lines of food and reinforcements. Amid sinking boats and burning rafts, bodies drifted down the Tigris River.

The impenetrable "City of Peace" was crumbling. In the fifty years since its creation in A.D. 762, young Baghdad had rivaled Constantinople and Rome in its prestige and influence. It was a wildly fertile axis of art, science, and religion, and a bustling commercial hub for trade routes reaching deep into Central Asia, Africa, and Europe. But by the late summer of A.D. 813, after nearly two years of civil war (be¬tween brothers, no less), the enlightened Islamic capital was a smoldering, starving, bloody heap.

In the face of disorder, any human being desperately needs order -- some way to manage, if not the material world, at least one's understanding of the world. In that light, perhaps it's no real surprise that, as the stones and arrows and horses' hooves thundered down on Baghdad, the protected core of the city hosted a different sort of battle. Within the round city's imperial inner sanctum, secure behind three thick, circular walls and many layers of gate and guard, under the luminescent green dome of the Golden Gate Palace, Muhammad al-Amin, the sixth caliph of the Abbasid Empire, spiritual descendant of (and distant blood relation to) the Prophet Muhammad, sovereign of one of the largest do¬minions in the history of the world, was playing chess against his favorite eunuch Kauthar.

A trusted messenger burst into the royal apartment with urgently bad news. More inglorious defeats in and around the city were to be re¬ported to the caliph. In fact, his own safety was now in jeopardy.

But al-Amin would not hear of it. He waved off his panicked emissary.

"O Commander of the faithful," implored the messenger, according to the medieval Islamic historian Jirjis al-Makin. "This is not the time to play. Pray arise and attend to matters of more serious moment."

It was no use. The caliph was absorbed in the board. A chess game in progress is--as every chess spouse quickly learns--a cosmos unto itself, fully insulated from an infant's cry, an erotic invitation, or war. The board may have only thirty-two pieces and sixty-four squares, but within that confined space the game has near-infinite depth and possibility. An outsider looking on casually might find the intensity incomprehensible. But anyone who has played the game a few times understands how it can be engrossing in the extreme. Quite often, in the middle of an interesting game, it's almost as if reality has been flipped inside out: the chess game in motion seems to be the only matter of substance, while any hint of the outside world feels like an annoying irrelevance.

The messier the external world, the more powerful this inverted dynamic can be. Perhaps that is why Caliph al-Amin, who sensed that his hours were numbered, preferred to soak in the details of his chess battlefield rather than reports of the calamitous siege of his city. On the board he could see the whole action. On the board he could neatly make sense of significant past events and carefully plan his future. On the board he still might win.

"Patience my friend," the caliph calmly replied to his messenger standing only a few feet away and yet a world apart. "I see that in a few moves I shall give Kauthar checkmate."

Not long after this, al-Amin and his men were captured. The sixth Abbasid caliph, victor in his final chess game, was swiftly beheaded.

The disease occurs most frequently after 70, but it can strike younger people...diagnosing it with certainty requires a brain biopsy, rarely done while a patient is still alive.

The disease's course undulated as it progressed...Soon after the diagnosis, Mr. Reagan was told to give up horseback riding, one of his favorite hobbies. A strong swimmer in his youth -- credited with 77 rescues as a lifeguard in Illinois -- he now had to wear water wings while a nurse and security agent propped him up in the shallow end of a pool at home. He picked up magnolia leaves that fell from an overhanging tree or that a security agent tossed his way.

As the fog of Alzheimer's thickened, the father no longer recognized the son.

Alzheimer's hereditary patterns are not precisely known. Ron Reagan said he is aware that he is at risk for the disease.

The disease occurs most frequently after 70, but it can strike younger people...diagnosing it with certainty requires a brain biopsy, rarely done while a patient is still alive.

The disease's course undulated as it progressed...Soon after the diagnosis, Mr. Reagan was told to give up horseback riding, one of his favorite hobbies. A strong swimmer in his youth -- credited with 77 rescues as a lifeguard in Illinois -- he now had to wear water wings while a nurse and security agent propped him up in the shallow end of a pool at home. He picked up magnolia leaves that fell from an overhanging tree or that a security agent tossed his way.

As the fog of Alzheimer's thickened, the father no longer recognized the son.

Alzheimer's hereditary patterns are not precisely known. Ron Reagan said he is aware that he is at risk for the disease.

Very concerned about violence in Egypt - government must respect the rights of the Egyptian people & turn on social networking and internet

Very concerned about violence in Egypt - government must respect the rights of the Egyptian people & turn on social networking and internet

There are so few real flaws left in these machines that the faults really stick out. My biggest pet peeve, by far, now that I watch a lot of Hulu and Netflix, is how low the sound is. Not the speakers -- the speakers are fine. But Apple has for some reason put a strict limit on the volume.

Now I've discovered an easy fix. For $32, you can buy Audio Hijack Pro. (Download it as a free demo first.) Then follow these steps:

1. For whatever application you want to boost (browser, DVD player, etc), you add it as a source on the left-hand side.

2. Once added, highlight that source, go to the "effects" tab, click on "Click here to insert effect," choose 4FX Effect>10 Band EQ.

3. Crank the EQ up nearly to the top.

4. Click on the "Hijack" button on the top left corner.

5. Go to your application and start playing your movie. You'll notice the sound is much louder than before. And yet, it still doesn't distort at all. Very impressive. Volume problem solved.

There are so few real flaws left in these machines that the faults really stick out. My biggest pet peeve, by far, now that I watch a lot of Hulu and Netflix, is how low the sound is. Not the speakers -- the speakers are fine. But Apple has for some reason put a strict limit on the volume.

Now I've discovered an easy fix. For $32, you can buy Audio Hijack Pro. (Download it as a free demo first.) Then follow these steps:

1. For whatever application you want to boost (browser, DVD player, etc), you add it as a source on the left-hand side.

2. Once added, highlight that source, go to the "effects" tab, click on "Click here to insert effect," choose 4FX Effect>10 Band EQ.

3. Crank the EQ up nearly to the top.

4. Click on the "Hijack" button on the top left corner.

5. Go to your application and start playing your movie. You'll notice the sound is much louder than before. And yet, it still doesn't distort at all. Very impressive. Volume problem solved.

Editors try to balance the value of the material to public understanding against potential dangers to the national interest. As a general rule we withhold secret information that would expose confidential sources to reprisals or that would reveal operational intelligence that might be useful to adversaries in war. We excise material that might lead terrorists to unsecured weapons material, compromise intelligence-gathering programs aimed at hostile countries, or disclose information about the capabilities of American weapons that could be helpful to an enemy.

On the other hand, we are less likely to censor candid remarks simply because they might cause a diplomatic controversy or embarrass officials.

Of course, most of these documents will be made public regardless of what The Times decides....For The Times to ignore this material would be to deny its own readers the careful reporting and thoughtful analysis they expect when this kind of information becomes public.

Editors try to balance the value of the material to public understanding against potential dangers to the national interest. As a general rule we withhold secret information that would expose confidential sources to reprisals or that would reveal operational intelligence that might be useful to adversaries in war. We excise material that might lead terrorists to unsecured weapons material, compromise intelligence-gathering programs aimed at hostile countries, or disclose information about the capabilities of American weapons that could be helpful to an enemy.

On the other hand, we are less likely to censor candid remarks simply because they might cause a diplomatic controversy or embarrass officials.

Of course, most of these documents will be made public regardless of what The Times decides....For The Times to ignore this material would be to deny its own readers the careful reporting and thoughtful analysis they expect when this kind of information becomes public.

To become successful at anything, you must spend 10 years working at it for 20 hours each week. Do so, however, and success is all but inevitable. 

"Artists have a vested interest in our believing in the flash of revelation, the so-called inspiration . . . [shining] down from heavens as a ray of grace. In reality, the imagination of the good artist or thinker produces continuously good, mediocre, and bad things, but his judgment, trained and sharpened to a fine point, rejects, selects, connects . . . All great artists and thinkers [are] great workers, indefatigable not only in inventing, but also in rejecting, sifting, transforming, ordering."

To become successful at anything, you must spend 10 years working at it for 20 hours each week. Do so, however, and success is all but inevitable. 

"Artists have a vested interest in our believing in the flash of revelation, the so-called inspiration . . . [shining] down from heavens as a ray of grace. In reality, the imagination of the good artist or thinker produces continuously good, mediocre, and bad things, but his judgment, trained and sharpened to a fine point, rejects, selects, connects . . . All great artists and thinkers [are] great workers, indefatigable not only in inventing, but also in rejecting, sifting, transforming, ordering."

As Mr. Rylance presents him, this grotesque buffoon is also touchingly human, and when he puts on a silly, pretentious play (at the Princess's insistence), you feel the presence of an artist's anxious heart. Combine that aspect of his performance with its throbbing inexhaustibility, and how can you not root for him?

In the end, what Hirson delivers is a powerful case for synthesis of high and lowbrow. Brantley criticizes the second half of the play as drifting. What he calls drift, I interpret as a nuanced shift. What he thinks is flawed writing, I read as Hirson's highly sophisticated case for the Princess's point of view: We needn't see the world in black and white terms of highbrow vs. lowbrow. Great entertainment ought to be smart and punchy.

]]>http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/256507f2/l/0L0Stheatlantic0N0Centertainment0Carchive0C20A10A0C10A0Ccritiquing0Ea0Ecritique0Eof0Ela0Eb0Ete0C646870C/story01.htmhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DavidShenkTheAtlantic/~3/NkdUHJ1P7-g/story01.htmtheatlantic mt64687How the New York Times misunderstands the Broadway show's synthesis of high and lowbrow entertainment<img width='1' height='1' src='http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/1ce1e402/mf.gif' border='0'/><br/><br/><a href="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262353/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e402/a2.htm"><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262353/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e402/a2.img" border="0"/></a><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262353/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e402/a2t.img" border="0"/>Mon, 18 Oct 2010 20:00:31 GMTtag:theatlantic.com,2010-10-18:blog-64687EntertainmentDavid ShenkCritics ought to be critiqued. Respectfully, Ben Brantley's recent NYT review of La Bête seems to fundamentally misunderstand the play. 

As Mr. Rylance presents him, this grotesque buffoon is also touchingly human, and when he puts on a silly, pretentious play (at the Princess's insistence), you feel the presence of an artist's anxious heart. Combine that aspect of his performance with its throbbing inexhaustibility, and how can you not root for him?

In the end, what Hirson delivers is a powerful case for synthesis of high and lowbrow. Brantley criticizes the second half of the play as drifting. What he calls drift, I interpret as a nuanced shift. What he thinks is flawed writing, I read as Hirson's highly sophisticated case for the Princess's point of view: We needn't see the world in black and white terms of highbrow vs. lowbrow. Great entertainment ought to be smart and punchy.

]]>http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/1ce1e402/l/0L0Stheatlantic0N0Centertainment0Carchive0C20A10A0C10A0Ccritiquing0Ea0Ecritique0Eof0Ela0Eb0Ete0C646870C/story01.htmhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DavidShenkTheAtlantic/~3/4amSwp2XQ4s/story01.htmReviewing some of the iPad's most useful add-ons to help maximize its mobility and minimize its vulnerability<img width='1' height='1' src='http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/256507f3/mf.gif' border='0'/><br/><br/><a href="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/148658736341/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f3/a2.htm"><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/148658736341/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f3/a2.img" border="0"/></a><img width="1" height="1" src="http://pi.feedsportal.com/r/148658736341/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f3/a2t.img" border="0"/>Sat, 16 Oct 2010 19:18:54 GMTtag:theatlantic.com,2010-10-16:blog64484TechnologyDavid ShenkThe iPad is a terrific tool, but it is also fragile and somewhat limited on its own. For the past few months, I've been seeking out the most useful accessories that can help to maximize the iPad's mobility and minimize its vulnerability. Here are my personal favorites:

Cases

The perfect iPad case would protect it all around, give easy access to its ports and buttons, provide a full range of built-in stands for typing and viewing, and look as elegant as the iPad itself. That case does not yet exist. Here are the cases that come the closest so far:

Quirky Cloak - $54.95. A grippy silicon case with a front cover and built-in stands for both portrait and landscape views. The initial design of this case called for the hinge to lock in different viewing angle positions, which would have been wonderful -- didn't happen. Also, the two built-in stands are flimsy plastic -- my landscape stand busted right off after a few weeks. Still, this may be my favorite case for functionality, and I give Quirky big points for at least trying to do it all.

Incase Convertible Book Jacket - $59.95. A thick, leatherish case that seriously protects the iPad from bumps or falls, and tries to provide different landscape viewing angles. The problem is that the most useful angle doesn't work -- it keeps slipping out of the groove intended to hold it in place. No portrait view stand.

ModulR - $99 for starter kit (more for complete system). Very inventive modular system that protects the back and sides of the iPad, offers a removable cover, and, most interestingly, offers slide-to-fit stands and mounts for desk viewing/typing, wall viewing, underneath kitchen cabinets, and car seat viewing. For people constantly shifting between two or more of these locations, this is close to ideal.

Griffin Elan Passport - $49.99. Simple and somewhat clumsy faux-leather case whose elastic straps actually get in the way of the screen rotation lock button. Still, this case is very simple, lightweight and the most attractive faux-leather case around.

DodoCase - $59.95. The clear winner for aesthetics. This simple bamboo and faux-leather case resembles the classic Moleskine notebooks. The case folds to allow for a slight typing tilt in landscape mode. No portrait stand option. But it works nicely with the Compass stand (below). Bottom line: This is the only case you can imagine Steve Jobs using.

Stands

Since there is no perfect case/stand combo, external stands are necessary. I've seen them all, and used some, and am sorry to say only two stick out as worthwhile:

Compass - $39.99. Utterly brilliant. A compact aluminum stand that can go anywhere, is practically weightless, and can handle portrait, landscape, and typing. Aside from the Dodocase, this is the only iPad accessory as elegant as the iPad itself.

GroovyStands - $9.95 to $14.95. Simple, affordable wooden stands that accommodate the iPad in different angles and orientations, with or without a case. Choose your specific GroovyStand carefully.

Power adapters

Incase Combo Charger - $39.95. Terrifically convenient to have car and wall charging in one unit.

Macally Dual Port Wall Charger - $29.99. Charges iPad and iPhone simultaneously.

Macally Dual Port USB Car Charger - $29.99 - Charges iPad and iPhone simultaneously in the car.

Scosche Revive II Dual USB Home Charger - $29.99. Charges iPad and iPhone simultaneously.

Scosche Revive II Dual USB Car Charger for iPad - $24.99 -- Charges iPad and iPhone simultaneously in the car.

Scosche flipSync USB Charge & Sync Cable - As compact as it gets, and will (slowly) charge the iPad from a USB port in a pinch.

Waterproofing

WaterGuard Plus - $23.99. Sounds silly, but the perfect thing for reading on the beach or in the tub.

Remote Access

LogMeIn Ignition - $29.99. Inevitably, you'll be using the iPad somewhere and realize you need a file from your home computer. This app allows you to gain secure and easy access to your entire home machine. Very impressive.

I'll keep my eye out for worthy additions to this list.

]]>http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/256507f3/l/0L0Stheatlantic0N0Ctechnology0Carchive0C20A10A0C10A0Cmy0Efavorite0Eipad0Eaccessories0C644840C/story01.htmhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DavidShenkTheAtlantic/~3/J5NGNOMKZhU/story01.htmtheatlantic mt64484Reviewing some of the iPad's most useful add-ons to help maximize its mobility and minimize its vulnerability<img width='1' height='1' src='http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/1ce1e403/mf.gif' border='0'/><br/><br/><a href="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262352/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e403/a2.htm"><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262352/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e403/a2.img" border="0"/></a><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262352/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e403/a2t.img" border="0"/>Sat, 16 Oct 2010 19:18:54 GMTtag:theatlantic.com,2010-10-16:blog-64484TechnologyDavid ShenkThe iPad is a terrific tool, but it is also fragile and somewhat limited on its own. For the past few months, I've been seeking out the most useful accessories that can help to maximize the iPad's mobility and minimize its vulnerability. Here are my personal favorites:

Cases

The perfect iPad case would protect it all around, give easy access to its ports and buttons, provide a full range of built-in stands for typing and viewing, and look as elegant as the iPad itself. That case does not yet exist. Here are the cases that come the closest so far:

Quirky Cloak - $54.95. A grippy silicon case with a front cover and built-in stands for both portrait and landscape views. The initial design of this case called for the hinge to lock in different viewing angle positions, which would have been wonderful -- didn't happen. Also, the two built-in stands are flimsy plastic -- my landscape stand busted right off after a few weeks. Still, this may be my favorite case for functionality, and I give Quirky big points for at least trying to do it all.

Incase Convertible Book Jacket - $59.95. A thick, leatherish case that seriously protects the iPad from bumps or falls, and tries to provide different landscape viewing angles. The problem is that the most useful angle doesn't work -- it keeps slipping out of the groove intended to hold it in place. No portrait view stand.

ModulR - $99 for starter kit (more for complete system). Very inventive modular system that protects the back and sides of the iPad, offers a removable cover, and, most interestingly, offers slide-to-fit stands and mounts for desk viewing/typing, wall viewing, underneath kitchen cabinets, and car seat viewing. For people constantly shifting between two or more of these locations, this is close to ideal.

Griffin Elan Passport - $49.99. Simple and somewhat clumsy faux-leather case whose elastic straps actually get in the way of the screen rotation lock button. Still, this case is very simple, lightweight and the most attractive faux-leather case around.

DodoCase - $59.95. The clear winner for aesthetics. This simple bamboo and faux-leather case resembles the classic Moleskine notebooks. The case folds to allow for a slight typing tilt in landscape mode. No portrait stand option. But it works nicely with the Compass stand (below). Bottom line: This is the only case you can imagine Steve Jobs using.

Stands

Since there is no perfect case/stand combo, external stands are necessary. I've seen them all, and used some, and am sorry to say only two stick out as worthwhile:

Compass - $39.99. Utterly brilliant. A compact aluminum stand that can go anywhere, is practically weightless, and can handle portrait, landscape, and typing. Aside from the Dodocase, this is the only iPad accessory as elegant as the iPad itself.

GroovyStands - $9.95 to $14.95. Simple, affordable wooden stands that accommodate the iPad in different angles and orientations, with or without a case. Choose your specific GroovyStand carefully.

Power adapters

Incase Combo Charger - $39.95. Terrifically convenient to have car and wall charging in one unit.

Macally Dual Port Wall Charger - $29.99. Charges iPad and iPhone simultaneously.

Macally Dual Port USB Car Charger - $29.99 - Charges iPad and iPhone simultaneously in the car.

Scosche Revive II Dual USB Home Charger - $29.99. Charges iPad and iPhone simultaneously.

Scosche Revive II Dual USB Car Charger for iPad - $24.99 -- Charges iPad and iPhone simultaneously in the car.

Scosche flipSync USB Charge & Sync Cable - As compact as it gets, and will (slowly) charge the iPad from a USB port in a pinch.

Waterproofing

WaterGuard Plus - $23.99. Sounds silly, but the perfect thing for reading on the beach or in the tub.

Remote Access

LogMeIn Ignition - $29.99. Inevitably, you'll be using the iPad somewhere and realize you need a file from your home computer. This app allows you to gain secure and easy access to your entire home machine. Very impressive.

I'll keep my eye out for worthy additions to this list.

]]>http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/1ce1e403/l/0L0Stheatlantic0N0Ctechnology0Carchive0C20A10A0C10A0Cmy0Efavorite0Eipad0Eaccessories0C644840C/story01.htmhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DavidShenkTheAtlantic/~3/Y1Yvec_HWL0/story01.htmWith exquisite writing, acting, and staging, the play opening this week on Broadway is a must-see<img width='1' height='1' src='http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/256507f4/mf.gif' border='0'/><br/><br/><a href="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/148658736342/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f4/a2.htm"><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/148658736342/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f4/a2.img" border="0"/></a><img width="1" height="1" src="http://pi.feedsportal.com/r/148658736342/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f4/a2t.img" border="0"/>Tue, 12 Oct 2010 20:20:15 GMTtag:theatlantic.com,2010-10-12:blog64403EntertainmentDavid ShenkLa Bete opens on Broadway Thursday night in a production that is everything his brilliant script deserves. I've been lucky enough to see it twice--first in London over the summer and just recently again in previews here in New York. Quite simply, this play does it all. The writing is exquisite, the performances hilarious (and moving), and the staging smart and powerful. Honestly, anyone who has the means would be a fool to miss this production. They'll be talking about it for years. 

There's also a meta drama at work here. La Bete was on Broadway once before, in a now infamous 1991 production that Frank Rich quickly put out of its misery. That older production, Rich wrote, "deteriorate[d] into an almost insufferably smug example of the exact middlebrow fluff it wants to attack."

I dare predict Rich will have a very different reaction to this revival. Director Matthew Warchus nimbly weaves together Mark Rylance's sublime buffoonery, Joanna Lumley's wounded ferocity, and David Hyde Pierce's tragic (and comic) indignance into a fabric so complex that the audience laughs hard as it wrestles with big and terrible questions about artistic integrity, personal sacrifice, and the marketplace of ideas. I suppose the main reason I am so full of superlatives here is that the play spoke to me personally. It resonated with my own inner dialogue as a writer wanting to make a unique contribution but also wanting to please, needing to say what I have to say but also needing to earn a living. La Bete is a beautiful piece of art about the existential traps built into making beautiful art. 

]]>http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/256507f4/l/0L0Stheatlantic0N0Centertainment0Carchive0C20A10A0C10A0Cla0Ebete0Ecest0Emagnifique0C6440A30C/story01.htmhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DavidShenkTheAtlantic/~3/NUdvwbIM9BM/story01.htmtheatlantic mt64403With exquisite writing, acting, and staging, the play opening this week on Broadway is a must-see<img width='1' height='1' src='http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/1ce1e404/mf.gif' border='0'/><br/><br/><a href="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262351/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e404/a2.htm"><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262351/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e404/a2.img" border="0"/></a><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/129168262351/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/1ce1e404/a2t.img" border="0"/>Tue, 12 Oct 2010 20:20:15 GMTtag:theatlantic.com,2010-10-12:blog-64403EntertainmentDavid ShenkLa Bete opens on Broadway Thursday night in a production that is everything his brilliant script deserves. I've been lucky enough to see it twice--first in London over the summer and just recently again in previews here in New York. Quite simply, this play does it all. The writing is exquisite, the performances hilarious (and moving), and the staging smart and powerful. Honestly, anyone who has the means would be a fool to miss this production. They'll be talking about it for years. 

There's also a meta drama at work here. La Bete was on Broadway once before, in a now infamous 1991 production that Frank Rich quickly put out of its misery. That older production, Rich wrote, "deteriorate[d] into an almost insufferably smug example of the exact middlebrow fluff it wants to attack."

I dare predict Rich will have a very different reaction to this revival. Director Matthew Warchus nimbly weaves together Mark Rylance's sublime buffoonery, Joanna Lumley's wounded ferocity, and David Hyde Pierce's tragic (and comic) indignance into a fabric so complex that the audience laughs hard as it wrestles with big and terrible questions about artistic integrity, personal sacrifice, and the marketplace of ideas. I suppose the main reason I am so full of superlatives here is that the play spoke to me personally. It resonated with my own inner dialogue as a writer wanting to make a unique contribution but also wanting to please, needing to say what I have to say but also needing to earn a living. La Bete is a beautiful piece of art about the existential traps built into making beautiful art. 

]]>http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/1ce1e404/l/0L0Stheatlantic0N0Centertainment0Carchive0C20A10A0C10A0Cla0Ebete0Ecest0Emagnifique0C6440A30C/story01.htmhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/DavidShenkTheAtlantic/~3/TWfGW7tvAKM/story01.htmA remarkable conversation this morning between The Wire's David Simon and WNYC's Brian Lehrer on…<img width='1' height='1' src='http://Theatlantic.feedsportal.com/c/34375/f/625827/s/256507f5/mf.gif' border='0'/><br/><br/><a href="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/148658736343/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f5/a2.htm"><img src="http://da.feedsportal.com/r/148658736343/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f5/a2.img" border="0"/></a><img width="1" height="1" src="http://pi.feedsportal.com/r/148658736343/u/49/f/625827/c/34375/s/256507f5/a2t.img" border="0"/>Mon, 20 Sep 2010 18:33:14 GMTtag:theatlantic.com,2010-09-20:blog63244PersonalDavid Shenkentire 16 minutes (below), but here's a small taste: 

David Simon: Somewhere along the line, we mistook capitalism, which is a remarkable economic engine, and something we can't do without [for] a social compact, for a manner in which you build a just society. If the profit motive determines the rationale for a just society, we're in a lot of trouble, because when capital triumphs unequivocally...what you're going to end up with is someone stepping on someone else's throat...

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