text
stringlengths
11
92.3k
The report also said that tests show the update does not cause any notable slowdowns.
On Tuesday, The Register first reported on the vulnerabilities, saying the patches to fix the problem would slow computers by 30 percent.
While researchers do not know how much the updates could slow the performance of older processors, Intel released a statement Wednesday that said the updates will not “significantly” slow computers for the average user.
“Any performance impacts are workload-dependent, and, for the average computer user, should not be significant and will be mitigated over time."
However, AMD said their products were not vulnerable to any of the attacks.
“Due to differences in AMD's architecture, we believe there is a near zero risk to AMD processors at this time,” representatives of the company told CNBC.
ARM also released a statement Wednesday that said the “majority” of their products are “not impacted by any variation” of the Spectre attack.
Huntington Ingalls Industries’ (NYSE: HII) Newport News Shipbuilding division hosted a keel authentication ceremony today for the Virginia-class attack submarine New Jersey (SSN 796).
The metal plate will remain affixed to the ship throughout its life.
Jeh Johnson and the couple’s son, Jeh Johnson Jr., who serves in the U.S. Coast Guard, attended the ceremony. Other guests included Rep. Bobby Scott, D-Va., Rep. Donald Norcross, D-N.J., and the sub’s commanding officer, Cmdr. Joseph Spinks.
New Jersey is the 23rd Virginia-class fast attack submarine. Construction began in March 2016 and is about 42 percent complete. The boat is scheduled for delivery to the Navy in 2021.
Just about halfway through my third day of scrubbing molding by hand — resting on a cushion because my backside was so sore from two previous days of doing the same thing — I began to question my sanity.
You see, I was in something like my 36th hour of house cleaning (to be followed by 24 hours of cooking and plating), and I couldn't help but experience a strong sense of déjà vu, as in, "I've been here before." As in, every time I plan any kind of gathering, I'm so damned tired by the time it starts it's hard to enjoy it.
This is because I have not mastered the art of "keeping up" with the housework or "pacing myself" before a big event.
It is also because I suffer from "I won't have enough food-itis." And maybe a bit of "I can't say no."
Case in point: We decided a couple of months ago to throw a party for our daughter Emily, since she was graduating from college and that certainly is a big deal. While we held her high school graduation party in our church hall, Emily wasn't really feeling the whole hall vibe, so we decided to hold this party under a tent in the backyard.
My mom, being well-acquainted with my somewhat haphazard cleaning skills, insisted that backyard should be theirs, and we agreed. We figured this would let us focus on just food and decorations and not get into the crazy last-minute cleaning frenzy that usually accompanies any get-togethers at our house.
Things started out well enough. We ordered a tent, arranged to borrow tables and chairs, bought tablecloths, hoarded vases, and planned a huge feast. Invitations went out, and RSVPs started pouring in. I focused on my menu while my parents concentrated on getting their house ready. My husband took some time off from work and I began to make lists of all that he could get done (which went over about as well as you would expect).
Five days before the party, I began to panic that we wouldn't have enough food (I'm pretty sure this is genetic, dating back to my Sicilian peasant ancestors, who probably were forced to make a pot of sauce with one tomato and a single basil leaf). This led to me adding dishes to my menu (and more work to the list). Then I began to panic that I wouldn't get it all done, so I took a few extra days off at work.
Breathing a little easier, I was coasting into Wednesday when my mom had a brainstorm: she was expecting seven family members to stay over the night before the party — and it was the same night as the opening reception for the Knights of Columbus art show. Wouldn't it be great if I had them all over for dinner so she could go to the art show?
Of course it would, I told her, inwardly screaming. Absolutely.
And a day later, when dear friends told us they decided they could make it up from New Jersey after all for the party (and we were really happy to see them, I swear!), I mentally added five more people to the dinner plans.
That's why when mom called on Friday to say that since the whole family would be at my house she figured she and dad would just come over and have dinner with us before the art show — couldn't I push dinner up an hour or two? — I didn't even blink.
Eighteen people fed (six of them children), several hours and all of my energy later, I was ready to call it a night. The house, which lasted for about two hours in its preternaturally clean, fingerprint-free state, looked like a tropical storm had blown through.
And best of all, the following day was the actual party.
I won't bore you with all the details (like why I was still building a chocolate-covered strawberry topiary when guests began arriving, or how there was so much food left over it filled the better part of three refrigerators), but let me assure you the party went off as planned and we all lived through the experience.
Best of all, my daughter seemed to really enjoy herself. And while I was tired at the end of the day, the help of family and friends allowed me to enjoy the day without being completely exhausted.
Two weeks ago, as Expelled premiered in more than a 1,000 theaters across the country, I went with several friends and graduate students for an early Friday evening screening at the Regal Cinema located in the Chinatown neighborhood of Washington, DC. The medium sized theater was about 80% full. In attendance was what appeared to be the typical urban professional crowd for the surrounding arts and entertainment district, an audience on a Sunday that is more likely to read the New York Times at a coffee house than to attend church.
As I watched the film, I noticed how effectively Expelled features several techniques common to political advertising. First, Stein relies heavily on the use of metaphor. For example, he bookends the film with historic footage of the Berlin Wall and a repetitive emphasis on freedom as a central American value. The sinister message is that "Darwinism" has led to atheism, fascism, and communism. As a corollary, if Americans can join Stein in tearing down the wall of censorship in science it would open the way to religious freedom and cultural renewal.
Like many political ads, Expelled also strategically employs emotion while playing on low levels of knowledge among movie-going audiences. For example, early in the film, Stein misleadingly defines celebrity atheists such as Richard Dawkins, PZ Myers, Daniel Dennett, and Christopher Hitchens as the representatives of "establishment science." The implication is that in order to leave room for God in society, intelligent design needs to be taken seriously.
Yet in playing on audience emotion, what Expelled conveniently avoids are interviews with any of the many religious scientists in the United States. In fact, several of these religious scientists are far more representative of the American scientific establishment than the blogger Myers, the journalist Hitchens, the philosopher Dennett, or the British author Dawkins.
Consider that Stein could have interviewed Francis Collins, director of the Human Genome Project, who recently declared: "For me, as a scientist who is also a religious believer, research activities that look like science can also be thought of as opportunities to worship." Alternatively, Stein could have turned to Francisco Ayala, past president of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, formerly a Catholic priest, and author of Darwin's Gift to Science and Religion.
Yet absent this context, the audience is led to believe that all scientists are angry atheists, and that in contrast, Stein is a likable and comedic champion.
In the screening I attended, somewhat predictably, there were chuckles and positive laughter in reaction to Stein while there was audibly negative emotion directed at the comments of the interviewed scientists. As the film credits rolled at the end, there was even a strong round of approving applause!
There is no way to tell how nationally representative this opening night audience might have been. At various other locations across the country, several bloggers and colleagues have reported that they were the only person in the theater for a Sunday matinee or a weekday evening show. One thing, however, is for sure: By documentary box office standards, Expelled has made its mark.
As the figures below show (source), with $5.3 million earned, Stein's propaganda film already ranks as the seventh top grossing public affairs documentary of all time and is likely to end its run at # 6.
Some bloggers have speculated that in light of Expelled's marketing budget, the documentary will still fail to make a profit. Yet it is unlikely that profit was the driving motive for the film's financial backers.
Stein's film was bankrolled by Walt Ruloff, a Christian evangelical millionaire. And Expelled's appearance in more than a 1000 theaters, a record for a documentary debut, depended heavily on the sponsorship of the Regal Cinemas chain, which is owned by the Christian conservative Phil Anschutz.
Instead of dollars, what ultimately likely matters to these right-wing philanthropists is the impact on the policy debate. Expelled's influence stretches well beyond the theater and any direct impact on audiences. As I review in this recent report to the Ford Foundation, these impacts can be tracked across several different dimensions.
For example, although many film critics have savaged the documentary, Stein's arguments have received either uncritical or positive coverage by way of soft news features, op-eds, and columns at daily newspapers, in reviews at Christian or conservative Web sites, in appearances on CNN with Wolf Blitzer, ABC's Jimmy Kimmel Live, and by way of strong endorsements on conservative talk radio and cable news programs such as Rush Limbaugh and Fox News' Hannity & Colmes. Advertisements for Expelled have also run on CNN, Comedy Central, and talk radio stations.
Perhaps most troubling have been the advanced screenings for policymakers, interest groups, and other influentials. For example, Expelled's producers have previewed the film for both the Missouri and the Florida state legislatures, connecting the film's message to a proposed "Academic Freedom Act" in each state that would encourage teachers to discuss the alleged flaws in evolutionary science. As Stein framed the matter at the screening in Florida: "This bill is not about teaching intelligent design. It's about free speech."
With each of these dozens of screenings there has likely been a strong intensification of commitment and emotion among the conservative activist base in attendance along with advocacy training, the raising of money, and the distribution of other resources such as videos and literature. In particular, Expelled provides these activists with an increased repertoire of arguments, talking points, and examples to use with neighbors and friends.
There is even the possibility that the screenings helped anti-evolution groups link up with new conservative coalition partners not previously involved on the issue. For example, Stein has shown Expelled at several meetings and venues here in Washington, DC, including a special screening for Congressional staffers.
When the film moves to DVD distribution, expect more of these types of Expelled screenings, house parties, and church gatherings across the country, all aimed at mobilizing a political movement in favor of anti-evolution bills. As Reason magazine's Ronald Bailey reports, at a April 15 press conference at the conservative Heritage Foundation, Expelled's financial backer Walt Ruloff said that as many as 26 states had been targeted this year with so-called "freedom bills."
This post contains spoilers for Isle of Dogs.
Wes Anderson’s Isle of Dogs has some glaring flaws. But anyone with experience in (or even a cursory knowledge of) the institutions tasked with managing pet populations in the real world will tell you it got one thing right.
We treat dogs like disposable trash. And as a society, we’re astonishingly passive about their systemic abuse.
When my dog was first surrendered to our local ACCT, he was severely emaciated and covered in his own excrement. According to the staff, his condition was likely the result of being abandoned in a small cage for a long time. He had a curved spine and multiple bedsores, indicating he’d had little room to even move. His ear was crudely clipped, the jagged yet clean cut indicating a "home doxing" (which pitbulls and other breeds are often subjected to in order to achieve a desired look) gone wrong.
The sores where the cage had rubbed his skin raw would never grow fur again. His ear would also never heal, forever left standing at uneven attention — giving him a look of permanent inquisitiveness, like he's asking you a question.
Those details aren't meant to galvanize this particular dog's suffering (he's one of the lucky ones), or the "goodness" of those who nursed him back to health. He’s not exceptional, but merely one more living example of how we treat millions upon millions of abused and neglected dogs.
Humans were the worst thing that ever happened to canines. And Isle of Dogs is one of the first films to openly admit that.
In the movie’s prologue, the "sage" dogs Jupiter and Oracle tell the story of canine domestication — from their perspective. They depict it as an atrocity where humans subdued their instinctual independence into a cozy co-dependence. Like most of the movie, the humorous tone is derived from the adorable dog logic of it all. And like many Wes Anderson films, the humor masks a harsh truth that's hard to swallow.
Because these sage dogs are right. That’s exactly what we did to canine-kind.
Over the past two centuries or so, human beings played god with dogs. We designed the majority of modern dog breeds at unnaturally rapid rates to cater their looks and behaviors to our liking — at the expense of their life expectancy and overall quality of life. Through selective breeding, over breeding, and inbreeding, many of the most popular dog breeds (Pugs, Cavaliers, Bulldogs, German Shepards, Saint Bernards, Labrador Retrievers,Yorkshire Terriers, Boxers, Daschunds) now have absurdly and dangerously small gene pools.
So, actually, some sort of disease like "snout fever" or "dog flu" infecting large populations of dogs is pretty realistic, all things considered.
According to many vets, animal biologists, and wellness experts, the culture of pedigree dogs has lead to widespread hereditary health problems in many breeds. Aesthetic preferences and purebred standards maintained by organizations like the American Kennel Club and praised by the Westminster Dog Show (or their British equivalents) can be recategorized as hereditary deformities. While the American Kennel Club advocates for responsible and healthy breeding practices, many question the standard for a "healthy" bred dog (for more information, we recommend BBC’s Pedigree Dogs Exposed and Nat Geo’s And Man Created Dog documentaries).
And those are just the expensive prestige pedigree dogs. Don’t even get us started on the atrocities of puppy mills (for more information we recommend watching Dog by Dog or Madonna of the Mills).
The worst part, though? Many of these disgusting practices are totally legal in America.
Unlike most popular dog narratives in books, films, and viral internet videos, Isle of Dogs forces audiences to face this rotten, flea-bitten underbelly of the human/dog relationship. Which is that is very one-sided.
When you take a closer look at Isle of Dogs, the true villain of the movie is not actually the Mayor or his cat-loving dynasty. The story as a whole is more an indictment of the entire human population that is totally complicit and passive when it comes to the mistreatment of these animals that are often also their beloved house pets.
You might’ve found it odd that not many citizens in Isle of Dogs seemed overly concerned about abandoning their dogs to Trash Island. But historically, this is completely accurate. Human beings are very willing to abandon their dogs at the first sign of danger or, hell, even inconvenience.
According to the latest statistics from the ASPCA, approximately 3.3 million dogs enter animal shelters on a yearly basis in the U.S. alone. 670,000 of them are euthanized. The busiest times for shelters are after holidays like Christmas, because people who gift dogs like they're stuffed animals abandon them once they realize they’re, you know, living things with needs.
Did you ever hear about the World War II effort that saw thousands of Americans surrendering their house pets to the government? Most of their dogs never came back, since the army carted them off into battle as little more than cannon fodder. How about this fun fact: Until 2000, every single military dog was euthanized or abandoned after their usefulness to the army ran out. Most still are.
As Isle of Dogs demonstrates, we are all too happy to put man’s needs first, and our best friends’ needs last — if their needs or emotions are even considered at all. Because at the end of the day, American law classifies cats and dogs as property, with little to no more rights than a chair (corporations, on the other hand, are afforded much more personhood).
As described in The Champions (an excellent book about Michael Vick's dogs), animals "saved" from illegal operations like dog-fighting rings or lab testing are often kept as evidence by the government. That means they’re left to rot in storage until they're no longer of use to the court — at which point they’re almost always indiscriminately euthanized.
When you know these things, its hard to not see the uncanny reality disguised in the unreality of this stop-motion animation.
Early in the movie, the mayor televises the disposal of his own pet as a public demonstration of his commitment to the new dog ban. Spots (who looks uncomfortably like my own dog) is silent, tail wagging, as he dutifully sits in his cage. He’s oblivious to the narration explaining the atrocities that are about to befall him. Even as he's carted off into scarier and scarier situations, the loyalty and trust in his gaze never falters.
Then finally, when Spots is discarded onto Trash Island, still locked in his cage, he looks around at the place the humans have forsaken him to. For the first time, his resolve wanes. His eyes betray only a flicker of fear and uncertainty.
Later, audiences see that Spots met a gruesome end. None of the dogs could figure out how to open his cage, so he starved. We meet him again as a pile of bones, still imprisoned in a cage of human domesticity, sentenced to a slow, painful death by human indifference.
In that moment, I saw what could’ve happened to my dog. I saw what happens to the millions of dogs who don’t get “saved” by dumb luck.
A lot of salient points have been made about Isle of Dogs and cultural appropriation. The movie does an incredible job of establishing empathy for its canine protagonists, while failing to extend that empathy to its Japanese characters. This failure doesn’t just diminish the movie’s logic and message, but undermines Anderson’s very realistic depiction of how we treat our most dependent, vulnerable, and loyal populations like literal garbage.
But the truth is we do. It does happen here — a lot. This is who we are. And there’s no Deus Ex Machina election coming to save us from perpetuating it.
New Record for ‘Most Nintendo Cartridges Blown Into’. Yes, That Exists.
Late Night host Jimmy Fallon wanted to set some new video game world records. So, apparently, he made some up.
I mean, really, how else can you explain the categories that Fallon and guests notched achievements in? A bunch of (admittedly charming) people impersonating Ryu from Street Fighter? Come on. Still, as side-eye-worthy as these are, they're not as bad as the ones that recently went into last year's Guinness Book.
And, yes, it’s entirely possible to let ‘the most games played at the same time’ slide, though, as it requires a freakish set of skills and/or circumstances. The others are suspect. Also, there’s no way that ‘most Nintendo cartridges blown into’ record isn’t getting broken in, like, a week. Love you, Kamal, but stick to keyboards.
ALL STREET securities analysts occasionally deliver bad news on a stock. But it's unusual when they unequivocally call their past advice to buy it a blunder.
Mr. Snyder did not return several telephone calls for comment.
Judith Czelusniak, vice president of corporate relations at Agco, said the company, based in Duluth, Ga., had only recently learned that Mr. Snyder had moved on, but she declined to comment on his departure.
Still, Mr. Snyder's downgrade of Agco to ''market performance'' -- considered a euphemism for ''sell'' -- was conspicuous because of its blunt, self-critical assessment of a perceived mistake. Against the backdrop of the voracious appetite for stocks in a seven-year-old bull market, a sell signal like that tends to stand out.
MR. SNYDER was not the first to lower his opinion of Agco. Eric Hunter, an analyst at S.& P. Equity Group, said he downgraded the stock from ''accumulate'' to ''hold'' in January, largely because the company was trying to maintain prices in Latin America, one of its most promising markets, while rivals were cutting theirs. ''How long can you maintain that strategy until you lose customers?'' he asked.
Others say the stock remains attractive. John Mackin, who follows Agco for Morgan Stanley Dean Witter, said the decline in the share price reflected economic pressures in developing countries that have affected all companies trying to sell costly machinery abroad. His rating on the stock has been a ''strong buy'' for two years.
Downgrades of stocks have become unusual in the last several years, in part because of a marked change in the role analysts play in a stock's prospects.
These researchers once worked in relative obscurity to help determine which stocks clients should buy and sell. Now, firms compete more aggressively for the lucrative investment banking business of publicly traded companies, so it is in their interest to promote the stocks of those companies.
As a result, critics say, many stock analysts who work for Wall Street firms have grown too cozy with the companies they cover and have lost credibility -- effectively becoming cheerleaders instead.
Chuck Hill, research director for First Call and a former securities analyst himself, said there was more fear now among analysts that they would offend their firm's investment banking departments or the companies they cover.
Others are far more indignant about what they regard as a high level of excessively optimistic analysis, which they say hurts investors' ability to gauge a stock's prospects.
Mr. Roffman speaks from experience: He was dismissed by Janney Montgomery in 1990 after he refused to retract a negative report about the financial stability of Donald J. Trump's Taj Mahal casino after Mr. Trump had complained and pushed for Mr. Roffman's dismissal. Mr. Roffman then started his own research firm, unfettered by possible conflicts that might arise if he were also trying to generate investment banking fees. Mr. Roffman also sued Mr. Trump, contending defamation, settled the case for an undisclosed sum and was awarded $750,000 from Janney Montgomery in a New York Stock Exchange arbitration claim.
Mr. Roffman's case was well known in the industry, but there have been other, less publicized examples. Wall Street firms sometimes lose a client company's investment banking business because of a downgrade, and analysts have been ostracized by a company in retaliation for a downgrade. Sometimes, a company sharply curtails analyst access to management if it deems that a rating on its stock is too low.
In April, Michael L. Mayo, a banking analyst at Credit Suisse First Boston, was excluded from a Mellon Bank analysts meeting. When he asked why, he said Mellon executives told him it was ''because of your rating on the stock.'' Mr. Mayo rates Mellon as a ''hold.'' Mellon declined to comment.
Even analysts who do not work for Wall Street firms can find it difficult to appraise a company's stock critically. Like others, they try to maintain cordial relations with a company's management to gain access to information that will help them evaluate growth potential.
Sometimes, however, a sell signal can make an analyst a hero. Andrew Shore, an analyst at Paine Webber, downgraded the shares of the Sunbeam Corporation in early April before the appliance company -- formerly a Wall Street darling -- began a plunge from the mid-$40's to the $10 level last month. Mr. Shore was also the first analyst to publicly question the capability of Albert J. Dunlap, Sunbeam's chief executive, who was dismissed on June 13 amid growing questions about the company's accounting practices.
''I don't think I had made a major sell call like this in my whole life,'' Mr. Shore recalled.
Immediately after he downgraded the stock, Mr. Shore said, he received some ''extremely nasty phone messages.'' Weeks later, he said, some of those same callers phoned to apologize and to thank him.
Mr. Shore said that he felt vindicated but that any analyst who issued a sell recommendation had better be right.
Fight erupts over dingoes on..
A dog fight has erupted on Mount Buffalo over a group of wild dogs in the national park.
The growing numbers are sending shivers through tourists, many worried they could be attacked.
There’s conjecture over whether they’re feral dogs, or dingoes.
Mountain tour guide David Chitty told 3AW breakfast they were definitely Alpine Dingoes and shooting them isn’t the answer.