Ïîïóëÿðíûå ñîîáùåíèÿ

среда

As time passes, each individual must choose his own fate. To fight or to simply back off, to cease from continuing his research or remain an enemy of ignorance — for which the repercussions can be extremely dangerous. One by one, they decide their path. Malianov, insufferable and lovable all at once, is torn. He finds himself being pulled in different directions, all the while considering how his actions might affect his family. The brothers Strugatsky, in this deeply layered novel, weave a disturbing tale, not an overtly political one, but with hushed anti-Soviet undertones at the core. You'll laugh, you'll look around suspiciously, you'll throw the text across the room. You'll pick it back up and go on, gladly welcoming the distraction. Knowledge is a dangerous game.

Juan Vidal is a writer and cultural critic from Miami. He tweets at @itsjuanlove.

Read an excerpt of Definitely Maybe

I've spent most of my life being fascinated by politics, but Washington has grown so stridently dysfunctional, I can barely stand to watch the news. And though I enjoy shows like Veep and House of Cards, they're so devoutly cynical they almost feel like part of the problem.

As an antidote to this, I highly recommend Borgen, the crest of the current wave of Danish TV that's given us The Killing and The Bridge. Taking its name from the Copenhagen castle that's the seat of government, Borgen plays like a more astringent version of The West Wing, a show it clearly borrows from and improves on. Its third and final season is just out on DVD, but you'll want to start at the very beginning, which instantly sucks you into the world of Danish politics, with its idealists and ideologues, sleazy tabloids and state-run TV networks, bullying billionaires and fussy bureaucrats with minds of their own.

Borgen's heroine is Birgitte Nyborg, superbly played by Sidse Babett Knudsen, the principled, low-key leader of the Moderate party. As the series begins, this happily married mother of two rides a freakish turn of events to become Denmark's first female prime minister. But taking office is one thing, knowing how to govern is another. Starting each episode with an aphorism from the likes of Machiavelli, Churchill, or Chairman Mao, Borgen shows us Birgitte learning to run the machinery of power — how to slap down a foe and fire an ally, when to go on TV and when to rise above the fray, when to compromise and when to be steely.

Of course, Birgitte doesn't live in the world alone. Part of what makes Borgen so enjoyable is that it surrounds her with maybe 20 vividly drawn regulars, from the smug opposition leader Hesselboe to the alcoholic old reporter Hannah Holm. Chief among them are Birgitte's spin doctor Kasper Juul, a Don Draper-ish sort who learned how to spin as a way of camouflaging his dark past, and the woman he loves, Katrine Fonsmark. She's a sexy but idealistic reporter who has a poster of All the President's Men on the door of her apartment. Like Birgitte, both are trying to figure out how to be honest in a world where press secretaries must weasel and reporters must answer to corrupt editors or TV execs who curry the government's favor.

“ I'm not sure I've ever seen a show that's better at capturing the personal cost of political life.

If beer is the new wine, robots are the new beer snobs. Well, sort of.

Researchers in Barcelona have developed an electronic tongue that really knows the difference between a pilsner, a lager and a bock.

For now, it looks less like a slick, futuristic robot and more like a big of clump sensors. It's still a prototype, but its creators say it could one day replace human taste-testers.

And in a study published in the journal Food Chemistry, the researchers found that the robo-taste-tester can distinguish among different types of beer with 82 percent accuracy.

Manel del Valle, one of the study's authors and a roboticist at the Autonomous University of Barcelona, says that food and beverage manufacturers could use the technology for quality control.

"The food industry needs to test lots of their products — and this is usually done by an expert," del Valle tells The Salt. "But if you transfer this expertise to a robot, you can produce at night, you can produce on the weekends." And manufacturers wouldn't have to worry about having a taste-tester on hand at all times.

i i

If beer is the new wine, robots are the new beer snobs. Well, sort of.

Researchers in Barcelona have developed an electronic tongue that really knows the difference between a pilsner, a lager and a bock.

For now, it looks less like a slick, futuristic robot and more like a big of clump sensors. It's still a prototype, but its creators say it could one day replace human taste-testers.

And in a study published in the journal Food Chemistry, the researchers found that the robo-taste-tester can distinguish among different types of beer with 82 percent accuracy.

Manel del Valle, one of the study's authors and a roboticist at the Autonomous University of Barcelona, says that food and beverage manufacturers could use the technology for quality control.

"The food industry needs to test lots of their products — and this is usually done by an expert," del Valle tells The Salt. "But if you transfer this expertise to a robot, you can produce at night, you can produce on the weekends." And manufacturers wouldn't have to worry about having a taste-tester on hand at all times.

i i

Blog Archive