S4 is a general-purpose, distributed, scalable, partially fault-tolerant, pluggable platform that allows programmers to easily develop applications for processing continuous unbounded streams of data. Keyed data events are routed with affinity to Processing Elements (PEs), which consume the events and do one or both of the following: (1) emit one or more events which may be consumed by other PEs, (2) publish results. The architecture resembles the Actors model [1], providing semantics of encapsulation and location transparency, thus allowing applications to be massively concurrent while exposing a simple programming interface to application developers. In this paper, we outline the S4 architecture in detail, describe various applications, including real-life deployments. Our design is primarily driven by large scale applications for data mining and machine learning in a production environment. We show that the S4 design is surprisingly flexible and lends itself to run in large clusters built with commodity hardware.

No abstract

No abstract

Early postcolonial critics were at worst ambivalent about secularism, and more likely either uninterested or, like Edward Said, extremely enthusiastic. What is the meaning of the recent turn against secularism by critics in and around the field Said did so much to establish? This essay weighs both Said’s militant commitment, finding it more complex than it appears, and the critiques of Said and secularism by such figures as Talal Asad and Gil Anidjar. Accusing the latter thinkers of a religious essentialism on the embarrassing model of Samuel Huntington’s clash of civilizations, the essay answers its title question with a resounding “no,” proposes a withdrawal from the easy identification of secularism, modernity, and the state, and ends with a counsel of disciplinary modesty.

One striking characteristic of commodity histories, a suddenly ubiquitous genre of popular nonfiction, is a certain overkill in their subtitles. A representative sample might include, say, Corn and Capitalism: How a Botanical Bastard Grew to Global Dominance (Warman), Tobacco: A Cultural History of How an Exotic Plant Seduced Civilization (Gately), The Potato: How the Humble Spud Rescued the Western World (Zuckerman), The World of Caffeine: The Science and Culture of the World's Most Popular Drug (Weinberg and Bealer), Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World (Kurlansky), and Mauve: How One Man Invented a Color That Changed the World (Garfield). Only slightly less over-the-top than the “changed the world” clause, which also appears in recent histories of vanilla, house cats, Ping-Pong balls, dishwashing liquid, and pocket lint, is the vogue for two-word titles in which an adjective, usually a commodity-identifying color, is paired with the most coveted of precious metals. Some examples are Blue Gold (water [Barlow and Clarke]), White Gold (rubber [Yungjohann]), Black Gold (oil [Woodward]), and Green Gold (tea and marijuana—two books [Bennet; Macfarlane and Macfarlane]). Such titles suggest that all these commodities, even the humblest, have the power to get continents discovered, dynasties toppled, mountains moved. We take some of these commodities for granted, but all of them have changed the world.