Terrible disaster: This Instagram post stunned me. Our friend John Paul Caponigro lost 80% of his beautiful, carefully made archive of prints to a "mold bloom" in the building where the work was stored. A tree rubbing up against the roof in the wind opened three holes that let the moisture in. The building is insured, but the contents aren't. I have to say I was shocked at those photos, knowing how much work the wastage represents. Sincere and heartfelt condolences to John Paul, and I'm sure we all wish him well in his restoration and renewal efforts. Ned B. alerted me. 

Pierce is 90: Now here's a bunch of true hotshots, or should I say hot shooters. Left to right, Eddie Adams, Arthur Grace, Bill Pierce, and Dirck Halstead. (Bill goes by "Pierce" to his friends.) These guys were some of the top names in World photojournalism when this portrait was taken. You can see some of Pierce's work, including some of his famous Northern Ireland photos, at the "Bill Pierce is 90" Facebook page. Happy Birthday Pierce! (Thanks to Carl for this.)

Nicolas the Vampire: For some reason this struck me as hilarious at the time. Back in 2011, an old CDV (carte de visite) was found of a man that resembled actor Nicolas Cage (real name: Nicolas Kim Coppola; he's the nephew of Godfather director Francis Ford Coppola). The logical conclusion arrived at was that Nicolas Cage must be a vampire, one of the undead. Various people then went to great lengths to analyze the photo to prove that it either was or wasn't a photo of Nic Cage, which is what I found amusing. It was proven not to be...based on comparisons of the structure of the ears. 

Looking back, this had to be a spoof—most probably the original jokester didn't actually believe it was a photo of Nic Cage. He was just trying to sell the old CDV, for $1 million. Which of course makes it less funny. That and the fact that the historical personage in the photo doesn't look that much like Nicolas Cage.

Anyway, the original photo is back up on eBay—again for $1 million. And, presumably because I looked at it, the seller has offered me $50,000 off through eBay's channels! As a counteroffer, I'm thinking of offering him $214.56. Think that will be enough to nab it? 

If I worked at a call center in Mumbai, I'd agree to give him a million dollars but only if he sent me the $50,000 first.

Jim Kasson's creativity: I guess you have to be a literary junkie to appreciate this, but Jim Kasson has collected a remarkable set of reviews of the Fuji GF 110mm ƒ/2 (87mm-e) from a series of eminent authors and poets. I hope it is within the bounds of Fair Use to quote, as one example, this review from Ogden Nash: 

The Fujifilm One-Ten F-Two
Will do what other lenses rue.
It grabs the light with subtle force
And keeps your subject sharp, of course.
The background turns to silky slush,
A creamy, dreamy, whisper-hush.
It weighs a bit, but do not pout,
Its portraits leave no room for doubt.
It’s fast, it’s crisp, it’s smooth as jazz,
A lens that makes you shout, “Alas!
How did I live before this glass?”

I don't know how he even got in touch with Mr. Nash, never mind getting him to agree to participate. It's hard enough getting in touch with someone who's alive. Not only that, but William Faulkner, Ernest Hemingway, Robert Parker, James Joyce, ee cummings, Geoffrey Chaucer, T.S. Eliot, William Shakespeare, and Ovid all contributed reviews as well. Who knew that Ovid, of all people, was a GFX shooter? But we now possess the evidence, cf. the Nicolas Cage vampire thing. All are in agreement that the GF 110mm is a great lens, but then, I've always said that short teles are the easiest lenses to design well. (Hat tip to Oren Grad, and kudos to Jim.) 

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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...Please get in touch. Your email address doesn't work. Thanks! 

—Mike the Pentax Pass-Around Coordinator

      

The fad from my time, in a current lens

It's official: this is an era. The era of what I've snarkily dubbed the great big honkin' normal (BHN) lens. It's a distinct fad or craze that will probably be dated one day. 

Here's DPReview's article about the forthcoming SongRaw Moonlit (15 elements in 10 groups, four ED [extra-low dispersion] elements, seven HR [high refractive index] elements, two aspherical elements). It's alleged to be the first full-frame ƒ/1.2 autofocus lens from a Chinese maker. No specs, prices, or availability in my country yet, that I know of. It appears to be Shenzhen SongRaw's only product so far.

These things don't appeal to me, but there might be a reason for that. In the early 1970s (I was 14 in 1971), Olympus made the first of its popular miniaturized 35mm bodies. Then-mighty Pentax followed suit—ever held an ME Super? Even Nikon, king of pro cameras back then, responded with a few small and svelte models: not just the FM and its similar-bodied stablemates; a few diehard iconoclasts will remember the EM and the Series-E lenses. The Contax 139Q that I went through photography school with was reasonably within the boundaries of the small and light body styles of the day. (I later got the larger, heavier Contax RTS II, and, to my surprise, didn't like it as well. It was promptly stolen from me, which I accepted as a sign from the Universe.) Leica rangefinders had always been small, at least as defined at the time—the Leica CL that my high school buddy Art Elkon had was even smaller. The Leica M lenses and the wonderful OM Zuiko line were mostly very light, small, and compact. The Leica C (for "compact") lenses for the CL even more so. That was the fashion at that time. It would be interesting to put the Olympus OM-Zuiko 50mm ƒ/1.2 next to the Songraw Moonlit. It might look like an original Austin Mini next to a Hummer*. 

Small and light was the fad that I grew up with, is all. It was what was cool at the time. That's probably mostly why I like it. I got a little endorphin charge when I saw the Pentax 70mm ƒ/2.4 again, that I will be sending out with the Pentax Monochrome body—130g (4.6 oz.) with its built-in hood. That's it in the top illustration—and it's bigger than the 21mm that will also be in the box.

I suspect that today's younger photography and camera enthusiasts are growing up with a different fashion holding sway—and that when they're my age now, they'll be looking back with rosy nostalgia on the great big lenses of now as "the way things are supposed to be." They'll get that little charge when they see a great big oversized lens...like an old SongRaw Moonlit.

Nothing new under the sun.... 

Here's the manufacturer page for the SongRaw Moonlit. Pretty images. And a slick and well-made page, complete with MTF curves for ƒ/1.2 and ƒ/1.4.

Mike

CORRECTION: The first version of this article said the Moonlit is the first ƒ/1.2 lens from a Chinese lensmaker. It is the first full-frame autofocus lens of that speed. Management regrets the error, and will fire the writer as soon as a replacement is found.

*Actually the smallest car I ever saw (and sat in!) was the original Honda Civic. A dealer had one on display. It was a little larger than, say, a suit of armor.

That's an early Doug video, by the way. He's now a YouTube multimillionaire.

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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Sroyon: "I was born after the Olympus OM/Pentax ME era, but like you I'm a fan of small lenses. Nevertheless I was thinking perhaps we should differentiate between fast BHN (with a max aperture of ƒ/1.2 or wider) like the SongRaw, versus not-so-fast BHN (ƒ/1.4 and smaller). The way I see it, a full-frame autofocus ƒ/1.2 lens is bound to be big, unless they make dramatic compromises in optical quality. Whereas the not-so-fast BHN are generally big because the manufacturers wanted to make a lens which is extraordinarily well-corrected, at the expense of compactness and weight. Thus the motivations of people who buy fast versus not-so-fast BHN are probably somewhat different. Also I feel there are lots of new lenses being produced in general, especially with all the Chinese manufacturers joining the party. Including some very small lenses like the new Fuji 23mm ƒ/2.8, and 7Artisans' new 10mm ƒ/3.5. So there's a market for that too!"

Tom Burke: "Partaking as I do in a (different) forum dedicated for users of the Canon mirrorless camera that I use, I can report that a number of people buy a BHN (or the APS-C equivalent) because they’ve been told that the wider the maximum aperture, the greater the lens is. Having bought the lens, they then use it at that maximum aperture for most of their shots. Until they appeal for advice to the forum, at which point someone advises them to use a smaller aperture. But there’s a definite belief out there that an ƒ/1.4 or wider lens must be better than an ƒ/2 or even ƒ/2.8 lens, at all apertures."

BG: "Big honkin' cameras and big honkin' lenses were popular back in the SLR era, too. It's the macho I'm-a-serious he-man photographer thing. Look at the size of my cameras; it proves I am serious. Nothing changes over time...."

Maggie Osterberg: "When I was a teenager, I wanted everyone to know that I was a PROFESSIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER dammit! So, I had a big Nikon SLR, with a big potato-masher flash, and a big lens. Which looked pretty ridiculous on my then 5'2" frame! But by golly, folks knew I was serious. By the time I got to my forties, I figured out that unless you're shooting sports, big ≠ good. Best thing I ever did was to get a Leica, with nice small lenses, and then an X100. As E.F. Schumacher wrote, 'Small Is Beautiful.'"

James: "You could, instead of complaining, herald the Sigma Contemporary DG DN series. The 45mm is, in particular, a standout."

Mike replies: James, that's my lens.

     

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I've been rather consumed by car shopping the last few days. I just wanted to comment on "range anxiety" with EVs. To add my comment to the other comments.

I've simply noticed that most of the anxiety about charging infrastructure comes from people who don't own EVs. Most people who own EVs don't consider it much of a problem. That seems fair to say from the comments here, or would you not agree?

How far do you need to drive? Some EVs have a range of 300 miles. That's the distance from Chicago to Detroit. It's also the distance from Chicago to St. Louis. Do people really think they're going to be stranded in the wilderness with a dead car because they can't manage to find a charging station between Chicago and Detroit, or between Chicago and St. Louis? 

Second point; everybody who talks about range anxiety doesn't seem to mention the flip side of the coin, which is having a private gas station in your garage. Put a Level 2 charger in the garage and you can "gas up" whenever you want to. Similarly, the FUD spreaders online constantly talk about waiting for the car to charge. I don't have time to wait all day, etc. When, actually, if you charge at home, it's a lot quicker than filling up at a gas station. You plug in the car when you get home at night and unplug it in the morning. It can't take as much as two minutes. You only have to wait on long road trips. In everyday life (well, if your situation resembles mine) there's no waiting involved.

Now, of course, "your mileage may vary." As they say. Everyone's circumstances are different. But it's been more than two years since I did a long road trip. My driving goes from my house, to one or two or three or four other places, back to my house. Mostly, I drive to town and back, 15 miles round trip. Maximum mileage in a day is probably a trip to Rochester, 116 miles round trip. I drive to Rochester maybe once every two months, and it's probably less than that. Add some toodling around in Rochester, an errand or three on the way home, a meeting that evening, and I might be at a maximum of what, 160 miles for a day? That's well within the 10–80% range of every car I've looked at so far (I drove a Chevy Equinox EV yesterday). That's worst case.

I'm bitterly disappointed that I probably can't get an Ioniq 5. I love driving that thing. So pleasing. Love everything about it—how it fits me, the ride, the controls, the punchy power, the regen paddles. But I don't think I'm willing to risk the ICCU issue. So now I'm thinking of leasing a 2025 Ford Mach-e for a few years. Sort of just for the experience: I'd like to experience an electric car. Even if it's only temporary. I'm mainly simply curious. I want to find out firsthand what it's like to live with. (This is the impulse that made me into a reviewer: I want to try things for myself and decide for myself.) And I'd like to write about it. Then, 2–3 years from now, I'll regroup and figure out what to do going forward.

It would make the most sense economically to keep my current car longer, so I might. And I must say I think I'd miss it. It's been trouble-free and I'm very comfortable with it. On the other hand, YOLO. And I ain't getting any younger. 

Switching to the passive voice, as people often do when talking about commitments: the decision has not yet been made.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Bob G.: "These battery or gas issues sound like the battery-dependent/manual issues back when the then 'new' all-battery cameras were starting to come in…"

Mike replies: Yes, wasn't that odd? For some reason that's something we've never really discussed. In the days of film SLRs, people so strongly desired "battery independence" that some manufacturers, including Leica and Olympus (which was briefly a leading cameramaker in the early 1980s) made specific models that were completely manual and could operate with a completely dead battery or no battery at all. And those cameras usually cost more, and were more rare, than the regular versions (the OM-3T remained scarce and prized for years). I can't recall the name of the Leica equivalent but it was an R SLR. People prized the M6 because the only thing that wouldn't work if the battery died was the meter. And many SLRs had a single shutter speed that would work manually, so that you couldn't be "caught" with a dead battery. You'd be limping, but you could still take pictures.

And those were for button batteries that lasted A YEAR OR MORE in normal use! Remember the admonition to change your camera's batteries every year on your birthday whether your camera needed it or not? The whole situation always seemed borderline crazy to me—especially because we were talking about button batteries that were tiny and weighed about as much as, what, a nickel? How hard was it to stash a backup battery (or two, if you camera required two) in your camera bag in those days? And that would be all you need to cover you in case of the apparently much-dreaded battery failure problem. I mean, even if you were going into the wilderness for a year, take a spare. You'd never feel the weight in your backpack, especially not compared to your backup body and your birding lens.

Then, after a few years of transition, everybody's like, oh, yes, these digital cameras require rechargeable batteries that have to charged virtually EVERY DAY, but we're all fine with that, no problem, we can handle it.

Huh? That was one of those "does not compute" situations. What happened to all that battery anxiety from the SLR days? Where did it go? Maybe all the people who bought all-manual 35mm cameras just switched to view cameras and a Sunny-16 chart, beats me.

Steve Rosenblum: "I appear to be a couple of days late to this discussion, but here are my two cents. I owned a 2020 Tesla Model Y for five years, and last month traded it for a 2025 Mustang Mach-E Premium with the extended range battery. Observations about EVs in general:

1. They are lots of fun to drive due to the instant torque and lack of transmission.
2. In five years nothing needed to be repaired on my Model Y after dealing with the initial problems they had with fit and finish issues. No maintenance costs beyond rotating the tires, changing the cabin filter and wiper blades, and they suggest you have the brake calipers cleaned each year if you drive in snowy places that use salt on roads.
3. Despite being an all-wheel-drive vehicle I found it did much better in the Michigan winter with snow tires compared to all weather tires, so I had those put on each winter.
4. The estimated 'range' for these cars is optimistic and I suspect they are based upon driving 65 in the summer with the wind at your back with a light foot on the pedal and the AC either off or set at 80 degrees. In the winter you lose around 30% of your range and, if very cold, more.
5. If you go on a long road trip you do need to plan your route considering charging options. The Tesla supercharger network is the best in terms of convenience and speed of charging and now you can charge non-Tesla cars at them using an adapter. It takes around 20 minutes to charge from 20% to 80% full at a Tesla supercharger. Going on long trips off the interstate system is more problematic.
6. The vast majority of the time I drive within 10 miles of home, or at most 50 miles of home and a home Level 2 charger is just the ticket.
7. The best compromise for those with serious range anxiety is a PHEV, or plug in hybrid. My wife has a RAV4 PHEV that can run for around 45 miles on EV mode before shifting to hybrid mode. Ninety-five percent of the time she doesn't drive more than that each day and can recharge at night. She rarely visits a gas station. If we go on a long road trip we take her car so as not to worry about charging.
8. My brother in law did the ultimate climate-friendly EV hack—he installed solar on the roof of his garage and powers his Tesla completely from the sun. Of course, he lives in California and the ROI on solar panels takes quite a while to catch up (soon to be worse due to recent 'Big Beautiful Bill' changes) but still, pretty cool.

"I love my new Mach-E which I have on a three-year lease. It is in all ways a better car than the Model Y. Just as fun to drive, but much nicer interior, smoother ride, excellent fit and finish, nice B&O audio system. The only defect I have detected since delivery is the exterior temperature sensor reads a bit high, so they swapped that out. Otherwise, perfect quality control. Three of my friends also have Mach-E's and they love them as well."

hugh crawford (partial comment): "On another site there’s a conversation about range anxiety, and I remembered that my father had a little Datsun 720 diesel pickup with an 80 gallon auxiliary tank for fueling farm equipment. In theory it could go over 2,500 miles but we never got it more than 30 miles away from home, and Chevron would deliver 500 gallons of gasoline and diesel to our house. I used to drive 2,800 miles nonstop a couple times a year, but that was 20 something year old me."

Dan B.: "In case you haven’t seen it, the VW ID.4 is supposedly available for as low as $99/month for a two-year lease, that’s a true giveaway and might be a good way to experience an EV at minimal cost...."

Mike replies: My experience so far is that those "offers" are just the "bait" in bait-and-switch come-ons. In every case so far where I've brought a supposed lease offer in to a dealer (four), the actual lease offer made to me has been much higher. Example: on Ford's "Payment Calculator" online I could get a result for a Mach-E Select (the lowest trim) of $330 a month with a $4,069 down payment, 36 months and 15,000 miles per year, whereas the actual lease offer at the dealer was $425 per month with a $5,000 down payment for 36 months and 12,000 miles per year.

Mileage restrictions on a lease kind of defeat the purpose of an electric car for me, because the cheaper fuel would partially be so I could feel more free to drive around photographing.

At Honda, the supposed Prologue lease of $209 per month for two years was contingent on my current car qualifying for "Loyalty or Conquest," meaning, it had to be a Honda (thus proving I was loyal) or it had to be a car from a list of Honda's competitors (meaning they want to conquer those brands). Anyway, my car is an Acura, which is a division of Honda, and it was made at the Honda Manufacturing of Indiana plant in Greenburg, Indiana. But did that qualify as loyal? No. Because Honda and Acura's financial divisions are separate and that's who has to approve the lease. My offer was $289 per month and a much heftier down payment.

That $99 figure you mention comes from Electrek, which merely said one dealer in California was offering it. Also in some cases the specific cars available with those low lease numbers are very limited. So, for instance, by the time I got around to asking about a specific advertised lease at Hyundai, the numbers of cars offered with that lease price came up for different models as "0, 0, and 0." So it seems that the makers will offer just a very few cars at one specific dealer somewhere at very low lease prices just to get those "as low as" reports on the internet. Then you toddle to the dealerships with your naive hopefulness and they get a chance to pitch you on a car.

     

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I just took the first five people who asked to be included. I've gotten lots of private emails from people asking to be considered; please forgive me for not answering you personally. It would kill an hour that I don't have to spare today. 

The first five people getting the Pentax Monochrome are: Steve Rosenblum, MikeR, Rob Spring, Todd Scholten, and William Lewis. Like I say, they were just the first five to ask, no special treatment. I'll be emailing them later tonight, or tomorrow. John Camp had a nice suggestion about the timing of shipments: each person should ship it to the next on the second Monday after they receive it. That insures that each person will get the camera for two full weekends and a solid week in between. That's for people who work a nine-to-five and are free on weekends. Nice thought. We'll adopt that.

I'll include two small primes (to keep the package light), the charger, one battery, and of course the camera body with a strap. I'll also include a list of the five people and their addresses, a timetable, and a checklist of the box contents. I'm also going to suggest that the six of us open a text chat so we can talk amongst ourselves.  

If this all goes smoothly, we'll do it again in the Fall with five more readers.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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[UPDATE: All five slots are already filled. If all goes smoothly, we can do it again.]

The Online Photographer now owns a loaner Pentax Monochrome camera, brand new, that I can send to TOP readers who might be interested in trying it.   v 

Does that sound like fun?

You don't need to own or shoot Pentax—a complete set of all you need will be included. Except you'll have to provide your own card.

To play, you need only be an established commenter. I can instantly call up commenting history for any reader: how long you've been commenting, how many comments you've made, and all the comments themselves. There won't be any minimum number of comments or cutoff line for how long you've been commenting or anything like that. All I ask is that I be able to see that you're someone who's been around and engaged with TOP for a while, so that I know you're a "friendly" and that you know our culture. If that's the case, I'll trust you with no questions asked.

This is not sponsored by Pentax USA or any other corporate or retail entity. 

Here's the deal: I'll ship it anywhere in the contiguous 48 United States, along with a Pentax lens or two. You agree to treat it nice and be careful with it, try it for 10 days or fewer, then ship it along to the next person whose address I'll provide. Shipping it forward will be the only cost you'll incur.

In return, you'll agree to write a short post about your experience to share here on the blog. 

The post should be standard TOP blog-post specs: 750 words give or take 500; one to three illustrations.

You can write about any aspect of it you like: what you did with it, what your experience was like, your impressions, your opinion, your feeling about the results, technical analysis of some aspect or other, what you compared it to, how you like the files, whether you enjoyed it or were frustrated by it—whatever you want. NOT ALL of those things are required; any one would be enough. Or something else. Actually nothing specific is required. It's open. You can write anything you care to about your trial period. You decide.

Don't worry if you're not an experienced or able writer, or not a native English speaker. We have a good editor (me). 

Illustrations can be pictures you took with the camera; pictures of the camera; a film B&W picture of your own for comparison, perhaps; a graph or chart; or anything you think is pertinent to, or that illustrates, whatever you care to share. It's up to you. I'll include the simple specs in the box.

Let's limit this to five people, say, to begin with. If it's popular and everything goes smoothly, we'll continue.

[UPDATE: All five slots are already filled. If all goes smoothly, we can do it again.]

Call it "The Nomad Pentax."

I think that's everything. Interested readers can reply in the Comments Section (won't be published).

Sounds like fun to me.

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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I'd like your opinion.

I have a chance to buy a new 2024 Hyundai Ioniq 5 for $29k, which is a.) a lot of money but b.) not bad for a car these days—in general, never mind a full EV. (Local dealer has a few 2024 models left.)

Think I should?

More specifically, do you think you might enjoy reading the adventures of your quirky and Quixotic online friend Mike as he grapples with the NWO (new world order) of a full EV? 

Not every day of course. Not every week. But ongoing. You know how I do—certain topics kinda recur. We'd probably check in a handful of times a year, sort of a long-term review kind of thing, plus the odd observation here and there.

The existing Mikemobile is at 11 years and 150k miles, and is beginning to show rust. Median Blue Book on it is $5,900. It's running fine and has new tires, and I could keep it longer. On the other hand, I've kinda had EVs on the brain since I drove that Mustang Mach-E almost a year ago, and it would hardly be an impulsive or irresponsible thing to do to replace the old buggy.

I am this close to pulling the trigger. Please, influence the influencer! 

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Curt Gerston: "We’ve had a Hyundai Kona Electric for three years now. Love love love it. We smile as we pass gas stations; never have to change oil. We charge it in our driveway. Range is never an issue. Go ahead…join the future, and feel better about the miles you cover to go take pictures."

Mike replies: I didn't mention it because I was afraid it would sound too much like rationalizing, but that's honestly one of the motivations. If I go out for two hours looking for pictures with the Sigma, the hours seem to melt away but, day upon day, the gasoline bill gets pretty alarming. I'm not saying I'd save money by buying an electric car, but I'd feel more relaxed about staying out. 

The way I calculate it, the savings on gas and oil would pay for about one year and two months of car payments over the six year life of the loan. The sale of the old Acura would also cover about one year and two months of payments. 

Andre Y: "If you do, make sure you budget for a home level 2 charger, like a Chargepoint Home Flex, along with installation, which can be expensive mainly because of the copper wiring. Make sure the electrician knows how to install EV chargers too, as chargers have different demands than say a clothes dryer outlet: they run continuously at high power for hours at a time compared to 30 minutes or so for a dryer, so they have different requirements for wiring and load capacity. Get the charger hard-wired instead of using a plug because the plug will wear out, and could cause a fire due to intermittent contact and very high electrical loads."

     

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By Jez Cunningham

By Ian Marshall

By Kyle Batson

By Esa Taponen

By Charlie Dunton

By Carlos Quijano

By Don Craig

By John Camp

By Yonatan Katznelson

By Lynn Burdekin

By Chap Achen

By Mark Lacey

And one more for good measure:

By Ed Kreminski

Thanks to everyone who submitted pictures!

Mike
(Notes and details to come.)

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Antony Shepherd: "Good Dogs! Thanks for that Mike, really got my day off to a good start. And thanks to the contributors and their lovely dogs!"

Vinck: "Seeing this purely as a suite of pictures, before you add any notes, I'm struck by how wonderfully the five first entries work together. They are all strong and beautiful on their own, but as a set they compliment each other so well I wouldn't take or add anything, nor would i want to see them in a different order. Essentially perfect, and quite unusual for this type of potpourri exercise. All my thanks to the authors and the curator."

Sean (partial comment): "I’ve never owned a dog in my adult life; I’m actually a little scared of larger dogs. But this is now my favourite Baker's Dozen."

Dogman: "Two paws up...or whatever. Great photos! But there are no really bad photos if they are photos with dogs."

Mike replies: Given your handle, I had to feature your comment.  :-)

     

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Here's the ni:dr (not interested, didn't read) version: biphasic sleep appears to be for me.

A month ago I promised you an update on this today (see the last paragraph of the linked post from June 15th).

If you didn't see that post and don't want to go back and read it, biphasic sleep is sleeping in two shifts with an interval of wakefulness in between. It was most likely the common mode of sleeping in Europe before the Industrial Revolution, and it was probably the ordinary mode of sleeping in colonial America. Thomas Jefferson and Ben Franklin are said to have slept that way. It was killed by electric lights and by the modern custom of commuting back and forth to a workplace away from home. I'd give you some links, but you know how to use Google if you want to know more.

The results
It's been a somewhat rocky month, but the upshot is encouraging and positive. I slept all but three days "biphasically" this past month. I had to experiment with several schedule changes, and I had to suffer several failures. Nothing big; just ordinary self-indulgent failures. One time I took a late afternoon nap that messed everything up. One time I stayed up too late watching tennis matches (it was an eventful Wimbledon). One time I couldn't stop writing on time and got to bed for Phase II way too late. And one time I just couldn't get to sleep for Phase II. Three times I said the heck with it and slept the old way. Or tried to.

However I really like the schedule overall. It solves two relatively large problems in my life: how to get an adequate amount of sleep, and when to find time in the day for uninterrupted long-form writing.   

The current schedule
Here's where I've ended up so far:

I set (gentle) alarms for 10:00 p.m., 2:00 a.m., 5:00 a.m., and 10 a.m. I try to get in bed after the first alarm between 10:00 and 10:30 p.m. and turn my lights off by 11:00 at the latest. I sleep for 3+ hours; get up at 2:00 a.m. and come downstairs, where I have the office prepared with a yellow light bulb in the table lamp and the yellow "Night Mode" color cast on the computer display turned all the way up; write for three hours; and then go back to bed at 5:00 for another five hours. Then get up at the last alarm at 10:00 a.m.

I don't cope well with alarms, because my worrying brain wakes me up before the alarm goes off—sometimes an absurdly long time before the alarm goes off. But I'm telling myself every night to just sleep till the alarm, trust the alarm, etc., and I'm getting used to doing that. Perhaps counterintuitively, I have had little problem with waking and going to sleep. I get up at 2:00 feeling perfectly refreshed and ready t0 go, and if I'm just patient with myself I can get back to sleep at 5:00 with relatively little trouble. I have various mental tricks that help.

I should add that I've had sleep problems literally my whole life. I only napped till I was barely two (source: Mom, although I have memories of getting up and escaping my crib*), and I was tested in a time-free environment in the 1970s and discovered that my natural circadian cycle was, at that time, 32 hours. That's not outlier territory but it's also not very close to the 24-hour celestial cycle**. One of my best experiences with sleep was when I was on a week-long wilderness camping trip and my entrainment got perfectly in sync with the sun—marvelous. 

Last night was almost as good. I got to sleep on time, woke up at the alarm for both awakenings, and got a little more than eight hours total sleep.

To put that in context, back when I was sleeping "normally," that is, trying to sleep all the way through the night all in one go, I probably managed a normal night's sleep of seven or more hours at one stretch maybe three times a month. At best. I never kept records, but I'd bet my car that there were numerous months when I didn't make it to seven hours even once.

As far as the writing time is concerned, it's just marvelous. I love the three-hour "mini-day" (as reader/commenter AN dubbed it) in between sleeps. It's so peaceful and quiet. I can really concentrate. The three hours just melts away every night, and I definitely need the alarm (the alarms are on my iPad, which I bring downstairs with me) to signal me that time's up. At 5:00 a.m. this time of year, the birds are beginning to chirp (serving as an alarm themselves) and dawn is just barely lightening the sky. I'm working on a piece called "Autobiography is Painful" currently, which should end up at about 10,000 words.

The imperative
Writing takes discipline. Consider this passage from a recent article about crime novelist Elmore Leonard by a writer I admire, Anthony Lane:

By 1950, [Leonard] had graduated from the University of Detroit, married a woman named Beverly Cline, and found a job at the Campbell-Ewald advertising agency. By 1955, he had three children and a daily routine to match, as [Leonard's biographer C.M.] Kushins reveals:

Up at five o’clock sharp for two hours of uninterrupted writing (still two pages completed before putting the water on for his morning coffee), then showered and suited for the office—ready to wolf down breakfast and help Beverly feed Jane, Peter, and infant Christopher—then receive the Eucharist during eight o’clock Mass. Finally, he arrived at Campbell-Ewald by nine.

The sheer discipline—“the perseverance to just sit there alone and grind it out,” Leonard calls it—is striking. (Forbidding yourself a first cup of coffee or tea until you’ve written a certain amount, despite not being technically awake, is a brutal habit that I’ve stuck to for decades. Turns out I’ve been taking orders from Leonard all along.)

If I'm going to continue with a biphasic sleeping schedule, and use the time constructively in the service of "grinding it out," I'm going to have to be disciplined in three main ways:

1. Getting upstairs on time
2. Sticking to writing, and nothing but, during the mini-day
3. Stopping writing right on time and getting back upstairs to bed

It's been a fun experiment. Will I continue with it going forward? Constancy is not my best thing. Time will tell. Next update? Eleven months from now. That will be one year from when I started this on June 15th, 2025, nine days after Butters died. Feel free to remind me if I forget.

Mike

*I have many detailed memories of very early childhood, including before I could walk, and I was absolutely astonished when I first learned that most people do not.

**"Night owls" are people whose natural circadian cycle is more than 24 hours, "larks" people whose natural cycle is less than 24 hours. The average is about 24.2 hours. 

P.S. How you can tell the illustration is AI-generated: look at the brickwork, especially above the mantelpiece, and the back right leg of the nightstand, mainly. There are a few other anomalies, but those are the easiest "tells." Pretty decent for one try, though.

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ASW wrote, yesterday: "Bill McKibben has a concise (online) article about recent and future growth of renewable energy sources, how China is in the driver's seat to dominate the space, and how our (America's) energy policies are both backwards and self-defeating, in The New Yorker. It's called '4.6 Billion Years On, the Sun Is Having a Moment.' It's well worth a few minutes of your time if you have access."

I read this last night. If you've been feeling pessimistic or defeated about the state of the World and the weather, you're about to get a significant mood-enhancer. This is the most uplifting, positive, optimistic, encouraging article on any subject I've read in a long while. 

The New Yorker allows four free articles a month to non-subscribers, so you should be able to access it if you are not a subscriber and haven't used up all your freebies. And if you have, August is a new month.

It appears that we are at the tipping point—it's just that America is neither leading the way nor really participating any more. But it's happening globally. America is now firmly on the wrong side of history, as well as on the wrong side of economic development and future prosperity. We've gone from world leader to actively obstructing the future.

But that doesn't mean the news is not good.

Really the most hopeful thing I've encountered recently. Thanks to ASW. And for others, coolly recommended (that's a joke. Not "warmly" recommended, yageddit? As Craig Ferguson used to say, "amused myself, and that's half the battle").

Here's the book the article is drawn from. 

Mike

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Dean Johnston [no relation to Mike]: "After reading that, and in the context of thinking about the world, I feel better than I have in ages."

     

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The most fascinating portfolio of pictures I've seen recently isn't art. It's called "Photos: The Scale of China’s Solar-Power Projects," and unfortunately it's behind a paywall. [UPDATE: Many readers are reporting that the content isn't walled off for them. So give it a try! —Ed.] Absolutely mind-boggling.

Solar energy is a significant fascination. The best short primer on energy I've ever read (not all I've read on the subject, of course) is the first 98 pages or so of a book called American Theocracy by the late Kevin Phillips. The section, Part I, was called "Oil and American Supremacy." It is in essence a long essay. As with other Phillips books, its connection to the rest of the book is rather loose—some of his volumes are redolent of collections rather than concerted, coherent, through-going argument. So the essay can stand alone. Unfortunately, it's behind a paywall too—you'd have to buy the whole book in order to read that one little section. In the late 2000s, ever a Don Quixote, I wrote a letter to Mr. Phillips and Penguin, his publisher, suggesting that "Oil and American Supremacy" really should be issued as a separate small volume at modest cost. Penguin at the time had a series of pamphlet-style semi-miniature books that featured important short-form writing from the past and present. Here's one of them:

I also have the translation of Ecclesiastes from the same series and one or two others, but I can't find them. Frustratingly, the books, which I saw in a bookstore display and which all had similar-but-varied form, format, typography, and cover design, don't seem to have been given a series name, and I can't find a page for them among Penguin's far-flung constellation of imprints, house names, and web pages. (There are only five major publishers in the USA, of which Penguin/Random House is the largest.) It's possible they simply under-performed and were unceremoniously dumped. Doesn't matter. Long and short, I thought "Oil and American Supremacy" would fit perfectly in the series, and it's one of those things—you know how it is with those things—that I urgently felt every citizen ought to read. But by now, Penguin's had 20 years to get back to me, which kinda makes my hope for a reply grow dim. (I'm joking.) And Kevin Phillips died in 2023.

Kevin Phillips was an interesting fellow, by the way. He was one of the founding theorists of Movement Conservatism and post-Goldwater Republican strategy—usually credited with originating the Southern Strategy—who later moved toward independence and became an outspoken critic of the Republican Party. In other words, he actually thought for himself, which would make him stick out like a sore thumb today. I went on a deep dive into politics during the Bush II years—I probably read 150 books, all of them except one now slumbering in boxes in the attic of the barn. Kevin Phillips, the essence of an iconoclast, was the best find. (Well, Thomas Frank too.) 

Anyway, one of the points Phillips makes in "Oil and American Supremacy" is that rich and powerful national economies have historically had trouble moving away from the energy sources that made them rich and powerful in the first place. The Netherlands and wind power, Britain and coal. The Dutch windmills peaked in the 1600s and 1700s—yet there were still 9,000(!) windmills in The Netherlands in the nineteenth century! (There are some 1,200 left today—believe it or not, only partially for tourism.)

Assuming the pattern plays out, America is going to have a very hard time moving away from oil. We have long been the global powerhouse. We tend to think of the Middle East when we think of oil production now, but on this very day (and for years now) the United States is the world's largest producer of oil. Our big problem is not that we don't produce huge amounts of oil, it's just that we use even more than we produce—that's what gives Saudi Arabia such pull over us, and it's why we have willingly gone along with the largest transfer of wealth in the history of Planet Earth—American wealth shifted to the countries that make up for our oil shortfall. It's why our military budget is so huge—to protect the shipping lanes for oil coming from the Middle East. (If the military cost of protecting global oil extraction and importation were passed along directly to the pump, a gallon of gasoline in America would cost somewhere roughly between $13 and $18. That's including the offset for supplementary biofuels.) It's why we fought the Gulf War—by historical accident, Iraq has the largest and least exploited oil reserves left on Earth, and, consequently, America now has a dozen huge military bases in Iraq, all of them strategically "protecting" oil fields, oil production facilities, and oil shipping hubs. Of course that it is not their stated purpose, but it is their purpose. Never mind a wholesale switchover—it would make incredibly good sense for us to make it our national purpose to simply gain enough alternative energy production to attain energy independence. It would solve a large number of complications and eliminate vast expenditures of national resources.

Meanwhile, China has no such sentimental, historical, and institutional attachment to the energy sources of the 20th century, and the Chinese are killing us in the race to harness and develop solar. We've allowed them to get way, way out ahead of us. Photographs aren't proof, and photographs aren't argument, but what they certainly are is illustration, and I've never seen a more stunning illustration of China's emerging supremacy in what will surely be the dominant 21st-century energy source. No one sees the future, least of all me, but oil will not be the world's major source of energy in 2100—that much is easy to predict, simply because there's not enough of it left. With its electric cars improving by leaps and bounds (BYD just passed Tesla as the world largest EV producer), its battery research lapping us, and its solar power technology, implementation, and deployment crushing ours, China is setting itself up to rule the future. (Germany and Brazil are also well ahead of us in alternative and renewable energy.) One word describes the U.S.: behind.

I wish I could link to this set of set of pictures. The most symbolic one is captioned "Floating solar panels stretch across an aquatic farm built on land that subsided after extensive coal mining, in Suixi County, Anhui province, China, on April 28, 2025." But oh well. For those of you who subscribe to The Atlantic, be sure not to miss it. 

Mike

P.S. I'm watching this morning what are indisputably the two greatest tennis players alive on our planet. Back to the tennis!

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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John Shriver: "Dan Yergin's book The Prize: The Epic Quest for Oil, Money, and Power is also a great treatise on how the whole western world is wrapped around oil. I was half way through the book when my mother died in 2020, and had just gotten to the end of the Second World War. The Allies won that war much because of their control of oil. The Allies starved both Germany and Japan of oil. I took a course from Dan Yergin at the Kennedy School of Government on this topic about 1980, before he wrote the book. (Cross-registered from 'the small trade school down the river.') Very interesting; an enormous amount of reading. There's also a PBS multi-part series based on the book, which is accessible online. Here's the first part."

Mike replies: The Prize is now a trilogy: The Prize: The Epic Quest for Oil, Money, and Power (2008); The Quest: Energy, Security, and the Remaking of the Modern World (2012); and The New Map: Energy, Climate, and the Clash of Nations (2021). The trouble is, their combined 2,336 pages (six and a half pounds of paper in the print versions, according to Amazon) isn't bathroom reading. I put a high value on primers (the word is properly pronounced to rhyme with trimmer) because they might actually be read, which is why I like Kevin Phillips' entertaining backgrounder. However, all you have to do is read the first page or two of the sample of The Prize at Amazon to realize that you're in the hands of a compelling and capable writer in Mr. Yergin. History well written is the only true page-turner. Like you, I read a lot of The Prize when it was more or less new, before ultimately being defeated. (I tend not to like histories as they butt up against the present, because they get less and less authoritative the closer they get to now. I learned that reading histories of photography.)

Jan-Peter Onstwedder: "I think you need to fact-check some of your post. The US imports crude oil, true, despite producing a lot. But it also is a net exporter of refined products. So imports + domestic production is greater than domestic demand, the balance being exported as fuels, plastics and other petrochemical products. It used to be true that OPEC had significant influence over prices and therefore US economics, but that influence is much smaller since US production has gone up so much. And the US now uses far less energy per unit of GDP than 20–30 years ago. All in all, oil is still important but no longer an excuse for meddling in other producing countries’ affairs."

Mike replies: And yet we still do. Oil imports have hardly abated. I admit I'm not up on "the Shale Gale," but the go-to book on it is for those who are interested is probably this one. Bear in mind that fracking in general might well be a sort of financial shell game: it succeeds by attracting huge amounts of speculative investment from the excess amount of capital "sloshing around the world" (a consequence of wealth hoarding) and has yet to prove that it's actually sustainably economically viable. At any rate, I'm not interested, because when the world is burning the last thing we need is more fire.

ASW: "Bill McKibben has a concise (online) article about recent and future growth of renewable energy sources, how China is in the driver's seat to dominate the space, and how our (America's) energy policies are both backwards and self-defeating, in The New Yorker. It's called '4.6 Billion Years On, the Sun Is Having a Moment.' It's well worth a few minutes of your time if you have access."

Mike adds: Here's a brief clip: "...Even though we’ve got used to seeing solar panels and wind turbines across the landscape in the intervening fifty years, we continue to think of what they produce as 'alternative energy,' a supplement to the fossil-fuelled power that has run Western economies for more than two centuries. In the past two years, however, with surprisingly little notice, renewable energy has suddenly become the obvious, mainstream, cost-efficient choice around the world."

I just read it. It's an incredibly hopeful article. And from Bill McKibben! (Who at times has sounded like the most pessimistic person on the planet.)

     

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Dye transfer sale: Ctein has written to say,

"I've shipped the prints to everyone who's paid me. Everyone who has paid should have either received their prints or a tracking number from the USPS. Anyone who hasn't received one or the other should get in touch with me at ctein@pobox.com ."

We've heard from several people who have already received their prints and they were glowing in their praise and satisfaction. Our print sales over the years have been a lot of fun and very gratifying. Thanks again to all. 

Large-format printer for sale: Ctein, as you know, is moving to Montana soon; he's gonna be a dental floss tycoon. Er, no, I mean he's moving Ireland soon, and it has nothing to do with dental floss. I lifted this from his most recent newsletter: "I am still looking for someone who is interested in buying my 44-inch Epson P9000 printer. I'd like to keep it until shortly before I leave. It should be someone local (this is not shippable!) and I'm offering it at an extremely good price, like less than half what a new one would cost, with over a grand worth of ink and paper."

[He means it when he says it's not shippable. It weighs in excess of 300 lbs. and it's huge—when Epson ships these to trade shows, the reusable crate they use costs as much as the printer itself. For this reason, the sale would have to be local in the San Francisco area. —Mike the Ed.]

"I've also got a 17-inch Epson P800 printer for sale. Available for immediate pick-up with a decent ink supply, and I think you'll agree the price is right at $500."

Same email address as above.

Mike

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Real quick—just wanted to mention that yesterday, not long after the post about weird stuff you use your phone camera for, I went to the local mechanic's shop, Marbles, to see if I could get an estimate. My car has some rust at either end of the rocker panels, and I wanted to see if it could be fixed, and, if so, how much it would cost. The guy who does the body shop estimates is the owner, Paulie Marbles. I thought he had retired but he assured me he hasn't, although his son now occupies the big office. Anyway we're standing there discussing rust and rocker panels, and Paulie apologized for not being able to get down and look up under the car, saying he isn't as nimble as he used to be, or words to that effect.

So I got the phone out, reversed the camera, and stuck the phone under the car. We were able to see the extent of the rust just fine, with me on one knee and him standing up. I just thought it was funny that this happened right after we were talking about it here. 

The verdict, by the way—he doesn't really do rust. He says no matter how good a job you do, it can still keep coming back. Reminds me of my friend Jim, who kept a favorite Subaru station wagon for 11 years through the snowy, salty Vermont winters. He would have kept it for longer but rust got the better of it. That was a while back—cars are much more rustproof now. But still, you know what Neil Young said:

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales thro ugh affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

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Who is this?

(I'll hold off a while before posting the answer, to allow more people time to guess.)

Mike

ANSWER: As many of you guessed, it's Lt. Colonel George Armstrong Custer, supposedly taken two months before he was killed at the Battle of the Little Bighorn (called the Battle of the Greasy Grass by the Lakota [Sioux], the Cheyenne, and other Plains tribes. Greasy Grass was their name for the Little Bighorn and the surrounding area). Custer earned the temporary rank of Major General of Volunteers in the Civil War, and also the brevet rank of Major General in the regular Army; "brevet rank," sometimes called a battlefield promotion, was usually awarded for bravery, valor, and combat leadership, and also as a way of filling vacant leadership posts without incurring the cost of permanent promotions—recipients were paid at their regular Army rates. At the end of the War, Custer reverted to his full regular Army rank of Captain. He was then promptly promoted to Lieutenant Colonel in 1866, and that was his rank when he was in command of the 7th Cavalry (several readers picked up on the "7" on his epaulet) and when he was killed in 1876.

There isn't much good information about this particular picture online. Most of it comes from a January 2014 "Collector's Edition" of True West magazine called "100 Best Historical Photos of the American West." The contents are online. The TW title was "Custer’s Last Photograph" and the full caption was, "A vain man, George Armstrong Custer posed for more than 150 photographs in his lifetime, including this last photo, taken of him two months before the 1876 Battle of the Little Big Horn that would end his life." The same caption accompanies most other appearances of the same picture online. It is most likely a carte de visite (CDV in auction listings) or cabinet card (the difference is only size, cabinet cards being larger), probably produced in volume to be sold as souvenirs after his demise. 

The interesting thing about it is that his hair is cut short. He was a notorious dandy, and wore his dark blonde hair long and scented with cinnamon oil—the Indians' nickname for him, one of them, was "Long Hair." Here is the image that is perhaps the most iconic. It's not known why he cut it: some claim it was because he had premonitions of his death; other sources claim his wife Libbie had been urging him to cut it because she was afraid his long hair would make him more conspicuous as a target for scalping or mutilation; some say that maybe he just decided to. Or perhaps Thomas Berger, the author of Little Big Man, was correct when he had his fictional protagonist Jack Crabbe say that the 36-year-old Custer was beginning to go bald. No one knows for sure. 

The print is identified as having come from the Robert G. McCubbin Western Photographs Collection, which was broken up at auction in 2019. 

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Charlie Dunton wrote, yesterday: "Now that I am in the middle of my 7th decade, I've found another good use for my iPhone. When I find myself standing in front of a food vendor and his menu is too far away, or otherwise too difficult to read, I pull out my iPhone and snap a picture of the menu. I can then quickly zoom in and read it with ease."

Mike replies: I wonder what a list of "all the things we use cellphone cameras for that aren't photography" would look like. I recall years ago seeing a young woman behaving strangely. She was waving her phone high in the air and posing like a model, her free hand flicking at her hair. It turned out she had the camera on her phone reversed and was using the phone like a mirror, fixing her hair. 

I use the phone to read very small text, especially when the text is molded into same-color plastic, which I have difficulty seeing. The "magnifier" mode is accessed by clicking the on/off button three times quickly. In the past I've used it to see things I can't get my head in position to see, for instance the back panel of my computer. Lately, when I suspect that a cashier might dispute the price of a sale item, I snap a quick picture of the shelf label so the clerk doesn't have to "go check" when I tell them what the item was supposed to cost. 

Sometimes things sitting right above a pricetag of $39.98 have
morphed to $48.98 by the time they get to the cashier.

And of course I use it for copies—I sent in a water testing sample this afternoon and snapped pictures of the documents before I enclosed them in the package. I use it for notes, like ads, phone numbers, cards on community bulletin boards, etc. But I'd guess we all do that. Around here, I actually find tradesmen by noting the names on the doors and side panels of trucks, which I'll then snap a picture of. 

What else do you use your phone camera for that isn't pictorial photography? Anything else you can think of?

Mike

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Mike Plews: "My bank app lets me deposit checks with my phone camera. Handy."

Dave Hsberman: "Frequent use for iPhone: Taking photos of books so I remember to see if our library has them."

Marc (partial comment): "I live on 300 acres of mostly bushland, and use my phone's camera for GPS coordinates of maintenance jobs. For example, I'll note holes for repair along the western fenceline, where the electric deer fence runs, where deer, wallaby, kangaroo and wombats have found a way to push through to avoid the zap. Also, for summer weed spraying, I'll note small outbreaks of St. John's Wort for attention (or horehound, or mullein, or thistle, or...but mostly wort)—it's as easy as just taking a photo.

"(Nothing stops wombats—they are the D9 tractor of the marsupial world. But I persist.)"

Ken Royce: "When at the market and am unsure exactly which brand or size or a product my wife requested, sending a quick text with a photo of the choices quickly resolves the matter...."

Rick Popham (partial comment): "I work in hospital maintenance. When we go into an office for painting, new carpet, etc., I take a picture of the walls so all the pictures and diplomas are put back in the right spot and any books are put back on the shelves in the right order."

Ilkka (partial comment): "The later model iPhones can see in the dark. It can be helpful if for example planning to make repairs in a dark place. I remember taking some pictures of a false ceiling to see how the wires and pipes went."

Henry White (partial comment): "Many younger travelers use their phones, in conjunction with Google Translate, to read signs in other languages with a quick conversion to English. Very helpful when visiting places like Japan and South Korea."

hugh crawford (partial comment): "Back in 1996 I bought my first digital camera, an Olympus D300L with a whopping 780,000-pixel sensor. Among other things, I used it to take pictures of expense receipts for a project at IBM that I was a freelance contractor on. It took about a week for them to figure out how to deal with them. I may have been the first person to submit digital photos of receipts at IBM. It hadn’t really occurred to me until now."

Albert Smith: "Parking space recall: in large lots or multi story garages, you can avoid an entire episode of Seinfeld by snapping a photo of Orange 43. Unless you like carrying a heavy air conditioner for 23 minutes. 😉 "

Bob Keefer does the same thing with trail photos, to help him find the way home again. —Ed.

Kodachromeguy (partial comment): "I use the phone camera to document parts of the house before going to the lumber yard or building store. It helps me explain a repair or project."

Sean (partial comment): "I travel internationally. Instead of carrying my passport, which I can safely leave in a hotel safe, I take shots of the current visa and other pertinent pages."

      

Here are the five things about my camera I don't like:

1. You have to look through the viewfinder to make any settings, check the battery, etc. The chimney finder just magnifies the viewing screen. So you have to turn the camera on and look through the VF to set or change most things.
2. There's a cover for the huge eyepiece (illustrated below) that has to be snapped on when you're not using the camera. The problem is that direct sunlight through the magnifier could damage the viewing screen. Although it's not something I've ever had to do before on any other camera, I actually don't mind it in practice. Cameras are quirky; you get used to the ones you use.
3. Electronic shutter only. As far as I know rolling shutter is possible. I haven't experienced any problems with it yet. I might have to do some tests. 
4. The conversion probably spoiled its resale value—I'll never get my money back out of it. I don't currently want to; but still, if I wanted to, I probably couldn't. 
5. The worst problem by far is also no problem at all: the crucial difference is that you have to know about it. Here it is. If you're reviewing a picture and you enlarge the review image as much as possible to check focus, it will look unsharp. That does not mean it is unsharp: when you get the file back to the computer it will be razor sharp. But if you don't know about it it will throw you for a loop when you first encounter it. I've actually read of people returning this camera after purchasing it because they are convinced it won't focus and everything is unsharp at the level of fine detail. That's an illusion. Of course, once you know about it, this is not a problem. [UPDATE: See Henry White's Featured Comment below.]

The eyepiece cover. Remove for use and replace when you're done.

There's actually one more problem, which is that some people give me a hard time for having/wanting a monochrome camera. But that's not the camera's fault. And I don't mind it, to be honest. I yam what I yam.

Do I recommend this camera? Probably not. Not as a monochrome conversion anyway. I'd recommend getting a factory Pentax K3 III Monochrome or a Leica Monochrom to preserve resale value, or getting an older camera converted, one you already own (although conversion is expensive, so don't convert one with tons of shutter actuations or lots of wear already on it). 

As a color stills camera? Hmm. Obviously I've never used one that way. But it has a cult following, and supposedly there's magic in Sigma's color science, and as far as the form factor is concerned you'll either love it or hate it, which means some people will love it. So maybe. 

Reducing friction
After yesterday's post, Rob L. mentioned, "Barely comes up, but reducing friction makes life more fun." He's gone down to one lensmount and configured his cameras to make them easier to use—that's what he means by reducing friction. That's probably the main thing I'm experiencing with my FP-m: I've got it set up so sweetly for my uses that it really reduces friction.

There might be one problem I haven't mentioned—now that I'm happy, I don't really look around at new cameras any more. And that leaves a void where GAS used to be. But you know what they say—oh well!

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Henry White: "Workaround for camera finder unsharp imaging on review: The camera, when shooting in raw, creates a very, very small JPEG from the raw file to show for review. If you want a big, sharp review file, then shoot with the camera set to raw+large JPEG. Upon review the camera will show the large JPEG.

"This is the case not just with the Sigma camera but across other brands as well. It's an easy fix and if you are so disposed you can just toss the JPEGs when you download the files to your computer."

Mike replies: So that's it. I figured it was because the review JPEG was too small, but I didn't know the correction. Thanks. 

robert e (partial comment): "These two posts were really interesting. It's much more enlightening to read how a person gets along with a thing while they do what they want to do than to read about how the thing is designed to work for generic uses."

Erwin Frank-Schultz: "This comment is somewhat cheeky on this post as it refers more to the Phone post than this one...but one thing I don't like about my (phone) camera is that it is an internet connected computer. I recently finished Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman (highly recommended)—one of his ten recommendations at the end is to use single use devices, to not get distracted. This struck a chord; whenever I use my phone to take a photo, there is a temptation to look at that e-mail or WhatsApp that just came in. Not a problem on my XE-3 and certainly not on my FM2."

     

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I have a Sigma FP-m, which is an FP with a monochrome sensor. It's not factory; I had it modified. Also, I have just one lens for it, a slow 45mm ƒ/2.8 normal lens (I notice the price on that has gone way up recently).

Here are 15 things I like about my camera:

1. It isn't like any other camera I've ever used. The one it most resembles in feel and what Erwin called "haptics" is a Bronica 645, though of course it's arranged differently.
2. It's manual focus. I had no thought of using it that way when I got it, and even when I first tried it I had no intention of leaving it set that way. I just like it. Since I started using it that way I just never went back. I occasionally set it back to AF, but not very often. Well, I think it's happened twice. 
3. Focus ring is on the traditional position on the lens. Despite being focus-by-wire it's very smooth and feels great.
4. Traditional aperture ring is on the lens.
5. It's B&W only. I've written about this till the cows came home, went back out, and came home again. Briefly: I tend to see like a camera sees, and adapt my thinking to what I know the camera's going to give me. So it's actually freeing for me to have a camera that has a stable configuration, that sees only one way. Some people don't even understand this, so to say "their mileage may vary" is an understatement. But that's OK. We're all different. This is what I like, even if you just have to take my word for it.
6. The viewfinder is B&W-only too. That's all the camera can see, so there's no color option anywhere in the process.
7. The viewfinder is huge. About 1.5x linearly and 2.25x the area of the virtual size of my Fujifilm X-T4 mirrorless viewfinder.  That's thanks to Sigma's odd arrangement of a vertical magnifying "stovepipe"-type finder mounted horizontally so that it magnifies the rear viewing screen. The viewfinder gives me a more immersive and immediate sense of the scene the camera is seeing. You know that feeling you get when you can't see everything on the back of a phone when you're trying to shoot in sunlight? It's like the opposite of that. 
8. When I take images, there's minimal informational clutter in the viewfinder. When I review, I see nothing but the image.
9. I keep it in aperture-priority mode always.
10. I have it set up so that the index-finger front dial always controls exposure compensation, which is how I prefer to tweak exposure. 
11. ISO is one button push away, and is then adjusted with the same front dial that controls the exposure comp. One touch of the shutter button and I'm out of that menu and back to the ready state.
12. It's silent.
13. I can do everything I do on the camera by feel. Don't need to look at the camera for anything.
14. The image quality is great. It's not naturally my kind of tonality, but I've a.) learned to modify it toward my tastes and b.) I'm getting more and more accustomed to the way it naturally wants to look. As I mentioned, I tend to learn to see the way the camera sees. I take slightly different kinds of pictures with this camera that I would have taken with, say, a medium-format camera and Tri-X in D-76, but then, it's a different beast. This is about as close as I've been able to come to the look of Plus-X / K2 filter / D-76 1+1. This is more like the files want to look, with depressed mid-tones. Of course digital is fundamentally different from B&W film, because you have to mind the highlights. With B&W film you always had to mind the shadows. From the film world (in my experience, which was pretty extensive) the results from this camera most closely resemble the look of 4x5-inch Ilford HP-5 Plus. Nothing wrong with that. 
15. The bag I have for it fits it like a glove and is easy to use. It's perfect for the camera. Never underestimate a good bag!

That's pretty much it. Apart from setup, which never changes, those are the only controls I use. Very basic, pretty much like all the autoexposure 35mm film cameras I used to use. Weird that the camera I've found that is the most "film-camera-like" is one designed to be mainly a video camera. But oh well. The only other thing I do when shooting with this camera is that in some circumstances I take the yellow filter off the lens and stash it in my shirt pocket.

Maybe I should add "simplicity" to the list of things I like.

Roads not traveled
My "road not traveled" was that the Pentax Monochrome came out shortly after I committed to getting the FP modified. I do sometimes wonder how my life would have been different if I had gone that way. I would certainly just buy the Pentax if I were doing it now—it's cheaper than my FP-m, for one thing. Leica also makes factory monochrome cameras. I would have gotten the Q3-43 Monochrom*, but I balk at Leica prices. That's just me.

As I sit situated as I am, if you will, with my gear, I would love to pare my kit down to just an iPhone and the FP-m. I'm kind of antsy to do it. The things I need the Fuji for are wide-angle shots with the 14mm lens, and portraits with the 56mm lens. I really can't yet rely on the iPhone for those two things. Although I've gotten some very nice portraits with the iPhone, I've never had one printed, so I don't know how it would do. My next phone is probably the upcoming iPhone 17 Pro Max or equivalent, and I'll be eager to see how it does in those use-cases.

The other day in the "Dedicated Camera" post, Josh Hawkins and several others mentioned that having their big/real/dedicated ILC with them makes them happy and improves the whole experience of where they're going and what they're doing. That's definitely the way it is for me. The dedicated camera makes life better. I really like getting out with the FP-m and doing nothing but hunting for pictures. It gets me into a whole different mindset. And the results can be uniquely gratifying. I wouldn't like to forfeit that.

No way would I be as happy just shooting with the phone...much as I like shooting with the phone. 

Mike

*Oh, wait, they don't make that.

P.S. One very important thing I use my iPhone for is reading books. I probably split my reading about equally between the iPad and the iPhone. Having the phone with me when I'm out an about, it's not so important that I have a phone with me, not so important that I have access to the internet, not so important that I have the phone cameras with me. What's important is 1. driving directions, on the relatively infrequent occasions when I need them, and 2. that I have my current book with me. And that I can get and receive texts, but that's a lesser need. Of everything, book reading is No. 1. 

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Tom Burke: "15 things I like about my camera:

1. It’s pretty much the same as all the other Canon cameras I’ve used over the last 30+ years. It’s an old familiar friend who’s learned some new tricks.
2. I press this button and it focuses!—which is good, because my eyesight is poor.
3. I don’t need to worry about the focus ring…
4. …Or the aperture ring.
5. Its images are in full, glorious Technicolor!—just like the world, in fact.
6. And of course the viewfinder shows me all that colour. Who wants to look at a monochrome version of our beautiful world?
7. The viewfinder is big enough to show what I’m shooting, without being awkward.
8. Both when I’m shooting or reviewing I can either see just the image or as much extra information as I want—my choice, with a single button.
9. I can leave it aperture-priority if I want to (and generally do) but it’s easy to switch to a different mode—just twist a dial.
10. I have it set up so exposure compensation is always available on the same dial.
11. I don’t change ISO on the fly. Instead, I have specific modes in which ISO behaves differently, and which I use for different types of shot.
12. It can be silent if I want it, or I can wake the neighbours with it! My choice, either way.
13. The menus are comprehensive and easy to use, and are grouped logically. And the ones I use most are available to me as a separate group of actions.
14. I’m happy with the image quality; indeed, on the occasions when I’m not it’ll be my fault.
15. Ah, rats: still looking for the right bag!"

Ken Ford: "I never realized the Sigma stovepipe finder worked on the FP—mine came with my DP0. I agree, it’s an immersive shooting experience to the point that I have to be sure I’m not anywhere near where I’ll get clobbered by an unnoticed vehicle. An 'FP-m' is something I would definitely pursue if I didn’t already have two other dedicated monochrome digital cameras. I’ve considered seeing if my old X100s can be converted, though. I’ve found having dedicated monochrome cameras inspire me to shoot more."

MikeR: "I'm tempted to write, 'What I like about each of my 15 cameras.' Except, it wouldn't be honest. Otherwise, why would I have set aside about a half dozen to sell?"

Mike replies: Ah, but do you really want to sell them?

ugo: "You should have seen the jalopy of a camera used by Giacomelli; a Kobell (you never heard of that brand, uh?) kept together with iron wire and black tape; let's say that image quality was not his paramount concern. There is a photograph of Giacomelli sitting on a bench with a woman; as the legend goes, she was a witch who removed a curse from his camera. Did you ever need a witch for your camera? Anyhow, he had a second Kobell for replacement, but he kept it behind a piece of furniture because 'If my camera knew I have a replacement, she would make a tantrum.'"

Mike adds: Here's a photo of Mario Giacomelli and his Kobell.

     

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A sporting post, in honor of Summer—but first, Happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans. Formally called Independence Day, it commemorates the ratification of the Declaration of Independence by the Second Continental Congress on July 4, 1776, establishing the United States of America. Three Founding Father Presidents died on this day—John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, both signers of the Declaration, died on the same day, the country's 50th birthday in 1826, and James Monroe, the fifth President, died five years to the day later. Curious coincidence. 

Is it just here, or are celebrations muted elsewhere? I haven't heard a single firecracker yet. Formerly the cacophony started in June, though it's been more subdued in recent years. But on to tennis.

Jack Draper. Photo by si.robi.

Upsets and surprises
Malcolm Gladwell wrote a whole book on outliers. Outliers are by definition atypical, and rare.

The UK's top-ranked male tennis player, Jack Draper, the No. 4 seed at Wimbledon in the men's draw, lost yesterday, to Marin Čilić, an unseeded player from Croatia. Čilić is a former major winner, but he won his single major more than ten years ago, in 2014; and he peaked at No. 3 in the rankings, but that was seven and a half years ago. His win over Draper was the first time he had beaten a top-10 player at a major in three years, and, at 36, he became the third-oldest player ever to beat a top-10 player at Wimbledon. It was, in other words, quite an upset.

Draper, however, joined 18 other seeded players in the men's draw (among 32 seeded players total) who are now out of the tournament. The same thing has happened on the women's side—17 seeded players are out, for a total of 36 in both draws. More than half of all seeds, men and women.

In the first two rounds, more seeded men lost in 2002: 20, compared to this year's 19; and the same number of seeded women, 17, fell in 2013 and 2016. But the total of 36 seeds losing across both draws makes this year the absolute outlier. More seeded players lost in the first two rounds of Wimbledon this year than ever before at Wimbledon, and indeed ever before at any major* tennis tournament.

The wily Djokovic, ranked and seeded sixth, now sees this as his best opportunity to add a 25th major to his record 24—even though no player, male or female, has ever won a major at his age, which is 38.** But the top two seeds in the men's draw are still alive. No. 2 seed Carlos Alcaraz of Spain (pronounced as though the "z" is a "th," despite what you hear constantly on English-speaking media), who almost fell during a five-set scare in the first round against Fabio Fognini, and Jannik Sinner, of Italy, the No. 1 seed, are both still in it. Sinner is 23 years old, Alcaraz 22. Both are in their prime: between them they've won all six of the last six majors.

Despite a recent three-month suspension, Sinner is by far the World's No. 1-ranked player, with 10,430 ranking points vs. 9,300 for the second-ranked Alcaraz. The amazingly consistent Sinner has put some awe-inspiring beat-downs on lesser players, for example his lopsided 6-1, 6-1, 6-3 thumping of Aleksander Vukic yesterday (Sinner seemed to apologize for his weak showing in the third set at his press conference), but he seems unable to beat Alcaraz, who has already won Wimbledon twice. Alcaraz is ahead 8-4 against Sinner in their lifetime head-to-head score, and has won all five of their last five meetings.  

So it's going to be a very interesting Wimbledon. But whatever happens, it's already an outlier. Outliers are by definition atypical, and rare—but then, they have to happen sometime.

Mike

*Now despicably called "grand slams," which they are not. A Grand Slam means winning all four majors in one calendar year. Only two male tennis players have ever won a real Grand Slam: Don Budge, during the amateur era in 1938, and Rod Laver. Laver did it twice, once in 1962 as an amateur and again in 1969 as a professional. Laver wasn't allowed to compete in major tournaments in the intervening years, because he turned professional and the majors were amateur-only until the Open Era began in 1968. The major tournaments are the Australian Open; the French Open, now called "Roland-Garros" [sic] after its venue; Wimbledon; and the U.S. Open. Tennis has taken to calling all the majors "grand slams" for marketing reasons. It's a sleazy swindle, which steals valor from those who have actually accomplished that ultimate feat. Among women players, Maureen Connolly (in the amateur era), Margaret Court, and Steffi Graf have won the real Grand Slam—Graf's is called "the Golden Slam" because she won an Olympic Gold Medal in the same year. Jack Crawford, Serena Williams, and Novak Djokovic all came within one match of winning the real Grand Slam, but failed.

Credit: San Diego Air and Space Museum Archive

Curiously, Roland Garros the man was not a tennis player but an aviator. He was the first man to fly across the Mediterranean, and became a French flying ace in WWI. He was shot down and killed over the Ardennes in 1918, only one month before the end of the war, one day shy of his 30th birthday. Garros was also a close friend of the legendary automobile maker Ettore Bugatti, and an early Bugatti was also named for him. Why the odd hyphen in the tournament name? Beats me. [UPDATE: See Yves Papillon's Featured Comment below.]

**Ken Rosewall won the 1972 Australian Open at 37 years, 2 months, and 1 day, which has been the record ever since. He reached the finals of Wimbledon and the U.S. Open two and a half years later, in 1974, at the age of 39, but was shellacked in both tournament finals by Jimmy Connors. Connors, for his part, was dominant enough that he might have won a real Grand Slam—but he was banned from the French Open during his best years because of his affiliation with a now-forgotten league called World Team Tennis. 

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Lisa s. Gorrell: "As much as I enjoy watching some of the seeded players, I also like it when an underdog upsets them. These underdogs could become tomorrow's winners."

Yves Papillon: "About hyphens in French. If it is a name, no hyphen. If it is a place, building or else named to honor a person, it takes an hyphen. Sorry for my frenchglish."

Mike replies: That's all right, it's better than my Englench. And merci for explaining that.

     

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The batt'ry in my iPhone 13 seems to be getting hinky—a long stint on the charger sometimes doesn't get it to 100%, and it's draining faster—and I'm wondering about replacing it. Replacing the phone, I mean, although I could be talking about replacing just the battery. I've replaced the battery in a phone before, but that just tends to encourage me to keep the phone until there's no trade-in value left in it. Replacing phones generally is the same kind of conundrum as when to sell stock or deciding when to take Social Security—it's a game, but there's no gaming it. When to do any of these things is an insoluble puzzle. Anyway the reason I replace phones is for the cameras, pretty much exclusively. And in researching the newest cameras vs. the one I have, I've happened across the phrase "so good" several times now. 

As in, the camera in the phone is "so good" you might not even need a "dedicated" camera any more.

"Dedicated camera" is only the latest modification of "camera" that I've encountered over my lengthening journey. It distinguishes a camera from a phone camera, which is what "camera" most often means now. "Stills camera" was another that popped up, a bit further back, to distinguish that from a camera that shot video as well, although that's basically everything now, including the phones. Before that, 25–30 years ago, it was "film camera," to distinguish those from digital cameras; before that, "manual focus cameras," to distinguish those from the autofocus cameras coming on strong; way back, before my time,"manual camera" helped distinguish cameras without autoexposure or just cameras that didn't have built-in light meters. Now, if you say to somebody that their camera has a light meter in it, you're likely to get the response, "what's a light meter?" But I suppose it's always been this way: in the 1890s there was "hand camera," to distinguish those from "stand cameras" and cameras on tripods. Whereas, in the 1860s, maybe, every camera was a stand- or tripod camera.

It's tough being a camera—you're never just a plain ol' camera. Each time, the new term acknowledges that something has changed to make it so that all cameras are lately not what the newer term describes. No one would have said "film camera" in 1960 or "stills camera" when the only way for consumers to shoot video was with a camcorder. Remember when those were a hot thing and all the rage? Time was if you had said "dedicated camera" and explained that it meant a device that was just for taking pictures, you would have gotten funny looks.

But I digress. So anyway, now there are dedicated cameras as well as cameras, which are assumed to be in your phone. So do you even need a dedicated camera any more?"

Oooh! Oooh!
I have my hand up. My answer: absolutely I need a dedicated ILC. (ILC = interchangeable lens camera.) The phone cameras that are so good now aren't that good yet.

My response actually tilts the other way altogether. That is, I sometimes wonder if it's bad for me to even have a phone with a camera in it at all. What it does is to encourage me not to have my "real" camera with me. What happens then is that I take a picture with the phone that I wish I had taken with a better camera. I've discussed this before.

A personal memory. Wex has Butters' discus toy, which Butters considers a violation of the proper order of the Universe. Wex would tease Butters by keeping it, and Butters would stalk Wex patiently until he got it back. I called it a "Wexican standoff." I could wish this were shot with the Fuji, but in all likelihood the picture wouldn't exist if it hadn't been for the iPhone.

I think, however—I hope—that I have fully embraced iPhoneography. It's freeing and fun to be able to "take notes" with the iPhone, and to almost always have a camera with me (I still leave my phone at home sometimes—I didn't grow up with them; that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it), and to be able to take a meaningless picture just for myself and just for the pure joy of it. There's another advantage: it has meant that I get out on purpose to do "dedicated photography" more often, with my real camera. Since my dog died I've been lonely and depressed, and my old "mindless compensating" activity—pool—is (temporarily I hope) not comforting, because he was always with me in the pool shed. But when I get out with the camera it's been working as a refuge, a relief. Driving around looking for pictures is still relaxing and comforting. He was never with me on those trips. It's a nice way to get away. Also, I enjoy concentrating on photography.

Should I happen to get a good shot, I would much rather it have been taken with my Sigma FP-monochrome or Fujifilm X-T4.

Do you make any effort to keep a dedicated camera on you at all times, or most of the time? Because that's one solution to avoid getting stuck with just your phone—to always have a real camera close at hand. I would think that would be the great advantage of the new Fujifilm X-E5 and its pancake lens, or any small, pocketable larger-sensor camera. 

But here's what would be the real test of dedication to dedicated photography: if you could buy a phone without a camera in it, would you?

I'm actually glad I can't (I'm in the Apple ecosystem, and Apple doesn't make a cameraless iPhone). I'd like to think that that's exactly what I would do if I could—reserve photography for the tools that do it best; force myself to carry a dedicated camera; never get stuck with an iPhone file for something I'd love to print.

But in reality I guess I'm glad I don't have to make that decision. For all I think I'd like to be uncompromising, I actually like my phone. I've gotten used to it.

Cameras, after all, are useful for other things than just making "dedicated photographs"!

Mike

Original contents copyright 2025 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Roger Bradbury: "I have a dedicated camera on me nearly all the time. It's in a canvas shoulder bag which is part camera bag, part old boy on an old British motorcycle's bag. The camera is a Sony A6000 with the okayish-quality and tiny 16–50mm kit lens. As it's protected by being inside a strong 1960s British Army ammo pouch inside the main bag and hardly weighs anything, I hardly have to take any notice of it at all. It goes everywhere I go when I don't have another camera, and only gets left in the car or bike if I'm in the pub or supermarket. I essentially already have a mobile phone without a camera, as the best the camera in my phone can do is little better than a potato print."

Vijay: "I always carry a dedicated camera with me. It’s a Ricoh GRIII in my front left pocket. My back left pocket always has my iPhone. I wouldn’t buy a phone without a camera because I use the iPhone for videos, and the GRIII for stills. My videos aren’t long, usually about six seconds, and their primary purpose is to capture audio. Sounds (especially of nature) are so representative of many places for me."

Henry White: "Hmm. I leave my phone at home more often than I do my camera. I can't remember the last time I left home without a dedicated camera. I was at a doctor's appointment this morning, Leica D-Lux 8 over one shoulder...as comforting as a warm blanket."

Josh Hawkins "Eight to 10 years ago I was going camping with the kids a lot. Every other weekend, every third weekend. It gave my then-undergrad wife time to study. The kids were three and five, in that range, at that time. I decided to make my life easier and just take my phone with for photos. The photos were just fine from it. What I found was camping just wasn't as much fun. Part of the joy was from having a 'real' camera with me. It wasn't that I just had more fun taking photos, I had more fun camping, overall, all around, because I was using a 'real' camera. It's been a valuable discovery. Sometimes I take my camera to things not because I need it, but because it's just more fun that way. "

Kye Wood: "You carry a dedicated camera for the fun factor. Just like you drive the convertible on the weekend. If you're wired that way, and it floats your boat, a dedicated camera will get the superior shot every time, because you will be engaged and not just passively prodding a button drawn on a glass screen."

Herjulfr: "No. The more I use my phone for photography, the less I like photography. I now prefer to leave the phone or at home or in the car and bring my X-Pro1 or my old Canon FTb. Holding them sets me in the mood, I am more aware of my surroundings and, at the end of the day, I have enjoyed taking photographs."

Edward Taylor: "What no one seems to discuss much isn’t whether a phone camera can replace a dedicated camera, but whether a dedicated camera could ever replace a phone camera. My phone captures decent photos in challenging lighting conditions that my $4,000 dedicated camera simply can’t, especially handheld. And I can share those photos instantly. I often use both cameras for the same shot, and frequently the phone is the only one that produces a usable image. At some point, I believe dedicated cameras will need all the computational power and connectivity of phones to stay competitive, or to replace phones entirely. Cameras should have cellular plans and appropriate software. Is a $20/month data plan really prohibitive when you’ve spent thousands on the camera?"

James Coleman: "I carry a 'dedicated' camera everywhere. I never leave the house without one unless it's raining cat and dogs or I'm headed somewhere 'dedicated' cameras aren't allowed (never mind everyone's got a phone...). My Pixel 6a does a great job but I've taken too many phone photos over the years when I'd wished I'd had my dedicated with me."

     

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In publishing there are two kinds of deadline—the deadline, which usually has a bit of margin built in for safety; and the drop-deadline, which is the absolute last second something can be done. One's The Eleventh Hour and the other is 11:59:59, you might say. 

So, new deadline: The "Dogs" Baker's Dozen will appear on Wednesday, July 16th. The reason is, I've backed myself into a corner where I'm feeling pressured. I can't work when I'm under pressure. Which you might consider immature or even obnoxious, and you'd be right, but it's one reason I'm a blogger: if I could handle pressure and deadlines like a normal grownup, I'd have a more responsible position for an actual employer and you wouldn't be reading this. So it's a situation of get some, give some.

I'm sorry about this, by the way. But I know myself.

July 16th is the day after I've promised to report on the biphasic sleep experiment.

Clocks ticking
Speaking of which: In the middle of the night, with a yellow bulb in the table lamp, the screen brightness on my monitor turned down, and night-mode warmth (yellowishness) turned all the way up, I find I can't easily see the tiny little numerals for the date and time in the far upper-right-hand corner of my monitor. So I was pleased when the Internet answered my question about enlarging it by leading me to this new clock-face widget:

In case this might help anyone else, on the Mac you right-click on the desktop with your mouse (or maybe left-click, depending on how you have your mouse set up) until a menu appears, select "Edit Widgets...", then find the clock widgets and manually move one to the desktop. Then, go to System Settings > Desktop and Dock > Widgets (you might have to scroll down to find it) > Widget Style, and select "Full-color."

I chose "Clock I" because it reminded me of the round clocks high on the wall at the front of every classroom I ever sat in during elementary and high school. (This would be a good illustration to put here.) I learned of the variability of time staring at clocks that looked like that: the last five minutes of French class before lunch took forever to go by, and I swear slowed down progressively as time crept with agonizing slowness toward the bell; but the same kind of clock keeping track of the 55 minutes you could sign up for on the racquetball court let that time slip past like it was water poured out of a bucket. (I came in second in the school racquetball tournament my sophomore year, and I still want life points for that). Time can be measured, but the perception of time cannot.

More soon, for a variable value of soon,

Mike

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Featured Comments from:

Kye Wood: "Ctein's article on Time ['What Is Time?' December 27th, 2013 —Ed.], and how it cannot be defined, that appeared in your blog, is one of the most thought-provoking things I've ever read."

B.J.Scharp: "Have you considered just getting a classic clock and hanging it on the wall? I've always been in the habit of removing all clocks from the interface of my PCs. I wear a watch, and I generally have a classic clock somewhere in the room, so to me it's just a waste of screen real-estate. (This is less of an issue with the bigger screens we have nowadays, but wasteful things are still wasteful. Just like our much faster devices are slowed down by less efficient software.) And an 'offline' clock has the advantage that it also works if the computer is off...."

Mike replies: Your comment made me realize that I don't use all of my 'screen real-estate' anyway. I have a 27-inch monitor but work in a window with a 23-inch diagonal:

Richard Alton: "Be gentle on yourself, Mike. With Butters having died, you couldn't have chosen a more emotional subject for the Baker's Dozen."

Gary Merken: "I know those clocks, from my public-school K–12 years outside Boston. My ninth-grade social-studies teacher, Mr. Penn, had a handwritten sign over the clock in his classroom. Mr. Penn's sign read, 'TIME WILL PASS. WILL YOU?' In other words, pay attention to the lessons! Don't watch the clock."