Sunday, December 31, 2006

Happy New Year...

...on my local.

See you on the high ground.


My wife knows me well. I've been very clear with her on where on marital infidelity: it's a lot of work, and probably not worth the effort.

So while she doesn't worry about who I sleep with, she does get upset about where I sleep. Namely the couch. It's a hold over from my single days. I believe the couch is the single most important piece in the entire house. Close to the refrigerator, situated near the picture square, and (now with wireless) constantly connected to the innerwebs, I rarely see a need to get off the couch (ok, maybe to go to work, shop for food and escape the occasional grease fire). Problem is (single days) I also like to sleep on the couch. My wife has put her lovely foot down about that, but a couple of days ago she actually threw a blanket over me and let me sleep their.

Her first words to me the next day were, "if you sleep on the couch again, I will divorce you."

Women.

In my life, I've broken:

1. One jaw.
2. One wrist.
3. One tib-fib.

Pursuing a certification in Brazilian Jujitsu, I've had:

1. My nose fractured.
2. Toe nail ripped out.
3. And pain in parts of my body I've yet to identify.

To overcome my fear of heights, I've done:

1. Bungee jumping.
2. Rappelling.
3. Parachuting.

My wife hates to go on roller coasters. I tell her that it's o.k. to fear, we all do. It's how we deal with our fear, that determines who we are, as people. Hey, if I didn't take the risk of asking her out, we wouldn't get married (women folk scare the hell out of me, that's why I'm glad I was able to snag one into holy matrimony).

You either deal with your fear or your fear deals with you.

Tigerhawk has this post about risk. Made for good reading.

I've got a new innerweb buddy, and her name is Shelby Grantham:

We should have bolted when she entered the door on the first day of class. Or perhaps gotten out when we perused the term’s readings. We had heard the rumors, whispered down from upperclassmen, that Prof. Shelby Grantham was “the worst prof for English 5.”

She's a professor a Dartmouth (which is not, I 'm surprised to learn, a sort of riverine fish). Followed this link from Dinocrat, to a page of The Quotable Shelby Grantham:

On Racism: “Only white people can be racist.”
On Society: “We’re uncomfortable talking about money in this culture.”
On the Rustic Life: “I have $15 in the bank.”

I think about people like Mrs. Grantham, and two words come immediately to mind: sweet material.

Have a Happy New Years, all.

See you in the next one.


Saturday, December 30, 2006

That was fast...

But to be expected. Video of the execution of Mr. Hussein has made it to the internet. The video was captured by cellphone.

So last night, while Mr. AC360 awaited the decisions of the panjandrums on high, and CBS declared it's hymen intact and halal, the information was making it's way from the execution chamber, bluetoothed or USBed to a computer, and uploaded to the innerwebs.

For whoever wants to see it.

It's on google video, likely make it's way to you tube, and then downloaded via something like Keep Vid , bluetoothed/USBed to another mobile player and shown.

Lousy age to be a gatekeeper.

Europeans, at least those I've met, refer to cell phones as handy's. They have that right (along with their intercity rail travel networks). Cell phones are handy. The can detonate an IED, record the execution of a dictator, call mom, and SMS that girl you just met.

Technology is neutral. Ultimately, it's not what you have, but rather what you do with what you have.

60 Bucks to Vassar....

I've been looking for a non server based "personnal wiki". A place to compose my notes and ideas ("eat more vegetables", "investigate this internet thing", "check on worldcom stock"). I like the wiki concept, and I imagine if I had an enterprise, that'd be a perfect solution. For my personnal, online needs (scheduling, quick notes and such), google's suite of apps work just fine. But I like having my data on a harddrive I control. I know, so early 2003, but I'm old fashioned like that.

Alas.

I did find voodoopad, described as a sort of wikinotepad, meets my needs. It's not as static as Microsoft's Entourage app, lets me import pictures and draw sketches. I will probably drop the twenty nine bucks to buy a license (disclosure: not associated with voodoopad, or the soul sucking PayPerPost, btw...I mean come on, look at my sitemeter).

Speaking of anachronisms, I was in the post office today. I'd always heard and seen pictures of those Susan B. Sakagawea coins, but I've never held one. Well, I put ten dracma into the automated postal certification dispensing machine, and out popped a book of twenty first class stamps. Heard the coins drop, grabbed them and dumped them in my pocket. Then I spent the better part of a miinute looking for the two dollars I was owed (come one, those self checkouts at the grocery store dispence dollars). Finally, I pulled out the coins, looked at them, and I'll be deployed!!! I had two Susan B. Sakagawea coins hiding in and among the two dimes.

Life is made up of small pleasures.

As I addressing my letters, the voice of a high school senior, female type, exploded in my head.

Phone etiquette. Conversations are between yourself, and the person on the other end of the line. Otherwise, it sounds like this:

"FIND A COMPUTER!! WHAT? ANY COMPUTER. AS LONG AS IT'S CONNECTED TO THE INTERNET. OK. FIND OUT HOW MUCH VASSAR'S APPLICATION FEE IS. WHAT? NOW! OK. HOW MUCH. OKAY. DAD!!? VASSAR'S FEE IS SIXTY DOLLARS. DAD? YEAH, SIXTY DOLLARS."

Well, I guess the alternate is to be seen talking to yourself, on and on, until I notice this bluetooth parasite growing from your ear.

Technology is wonderful.

Voodoopad:

Friday, December 29, 2006

Good points from the wife:

Anderson Cooper is currently prattling on about "we will decide/management on high/is it appropriate for you/we will warn you before we show them to you" and all the while, in the background, CNN is looping through images of dead bodies, bloated, from the Halabja massacre. Unintentional irony?

She asks, "why are the pictures of Saddam so bad, but those pictures are not?"

I do not know.

Perhaps the death of small people can never match the death of a King.


And it reminded me of this:

...He said, "This is what the king who will reign over you will do: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots.
12 Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots.
13 He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers.
14 He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants.
15 He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants.
16 Your menservants and maidservants and the best of your cattle [a] and donkeys he will take for his own use.
17 He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves.
18 When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, and the LORD will not answer you in that day."

One man and a website....

Saddam Hussein, former President of Iraq, looks to be on his way out. His attorney, Giovanni di Stefano, was just on CNN discussing a last minute appeal for Saddam's life...to an American court.

This link will take you to a wikipedia entry about Mr. di Stefano. How he got rich: "He began amassing what he claims eventually constituted his £450m fortune by importing videotapes from Hong Kong." Included are a list of Mr. di Stefano's former clients:

The late paramilitary leader Arkan, charged with war crimes before his murder;

Kenneth Noye, convicted of murdering a man in a road rage incident in London before fleeing to Spain;

Slobodan Milošević, the Serbian President charged with genocide;

John "Goldfinger" Palmer, a timeshare fraudster whom he helped to retain £33m worth of fraudulently acquired money;

Jeremy Bamber, who murdered five members of his own family;

Jonathan King, the pop-music impresario convicted of sexual offences against children

Saddam Hussein, the former Iraqi dictator;

John Gilligan, a convicted Irish drug dealer, acquitted of the murder of journalist Veronica Guerin.


Mr. di Stefano keeps interesting company. A bootlegger among the depraved. The trend continues.

It's an Established Truf that only whites can be racists(as currently neoligized people use "racists" interchangeably with "hate", by rmoving the power component). No deviation from this line is accepted, or acceptable. If you are not white, then you can't be racists, no matter past statements, former associations, or current actions. Racism, it seems, is exclusively the domain of the "white man." I find that racist and exclusionary.

Another Established Truf is that tyranny is strictly a device of the current government. But tyrants don't come, fully formed, into the world, with Dear Leader status, nifty uniforms, parades a'marching and death camps a killing. The are usually spit out the end of a process rarely initiated by themselves. A process of disruption of the (whatever) current order, creation of front groups, agitations and whatnot. Stalin benefits from Lenin, Hitler from the Frei Korps, Mao from those dudes who first tried to marginilize him and Saddam Hussein from that dude what first started the Baathist movement. Totalitarians benefit from disorder sown by others.

Tyranny is a set of practices, used to achieve the end of control. Judge, jury and executioner, all in one hand.

Switching gears.

One man and a website. Zombietime is a website that chronicles rallys, parades and protest in and around the San Fransico Bay area. During the First Isreali-Hezbollah/Iran War, the webiste author examined some claims surrounding the "bombing" of a Lebanese ambulance. Months later, Human Rights Watch responed to Mr. Zombietime. And in turn, he responded. Read the links.

The nut of HRW argument was that and attack by the Isreali's on the Lebanese ambulance was possible becuase of:

1. Joo Missile.
2. Secret Joo Missile.
or
3. Joo mischief.

Now that's a crude summation of their arguments, and Mr. Zombietime does a lot better job of debunking their response. I find it intructive for two reasons:

1. HRW is a world wide perception shaping organization. It's budget is thirty million dollars a year. Thought experiment: name one company with thirty million dollars a year in revenue. Go ahead, I'll wait. Yeah, I couldn't think of one either.

2. And you really have to read the zombietime site. The thrust of HRW was not so much to answer Mr. Zombietime's observations, but seemed designed to shut him (argumentively) down.

Interesting approach. Wretchard, of the Belmont Club, posts extensively on the role of the blogoshpere in countering and exposing "large" perception generating organizations.

In a few short hours, a barbarian tyrant will hang.

His death, like his accomplishments, will be a footnote in history. The trend continues.

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Kicks are for kids.

Growing up, I used to beg my Dad for a pair of Puma kicks. Having a pair would place me bove those mere proles who wore Nikes or even Addidas'. A clean pair of Puma kicks.

Well, my Dad did come through. Only, well, he was the king of "slightly damged" new clothes. The kind that came with a sharp discount. So when my Dad told me he got me some Puma's, my little kid's heart was set to explode with joy.

Then I saw them. They had a sky blue Puma stripe. Something a girl migh wear. I wore them once, because my Dad insisted, and then they never saw the light of day.

They were worthless, to my young mind.

Shortly thereafter, the Culture of Kicks spun out of control. Air Jordans, hundred dollar plus kicks. Man, it was an Arms Race in which we could not compete. I remember being told, by friends, "my sneakers are worth a hundred dollars."

Only, they weren't.

By Persian carpets is a thing some members of the Corporation do. I mean, you're on this west Asian sabbatical, so why not? Right. Well, that leads to alot of chatter about how much these rugs are worth.

Worth. Things are only worth what the next guy is willing to pay for them. What you pay for them represents their "worth" to the seller. That why I'm not big on luxury items, much to my wife's chagrin. Things that are shiny just don't hold that much interest for me.

Personal choice.

Chocolate. Cribed this link from Boing Boing. It's about a these chocalate makers selling, well, chocolate for something like 2,000 dracma (U.S) a pound. Honestly, it's not the chocolate they're selling. It's the backstory. It's the sense of exclusiveness. It's the subtle superiority it's purchasers feel. Throw in some words about Fair Trade and the Rain Forest being saved from Carbon Depletion, and these nice folks from Texas have a gold mine.

Why sell the steak, when you can profit from the sizzle?

Nothing new there. We've gone from "Granpa Ray's Cure All Elixir" sold from the back of conestoga's to luxurious, single source couverture[new word, for me], marketed over the innerwebs.

Same dollar, different day.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Absent free will....

...Scott Adams must blog this:

"Infected men have lower IQs, achieve a lower level of education and have shorter attention spans. They are also more likely to break rules and take risks, be more independent, more anti-social, suspicious, jealous and morose, and are deemed less attractive to women.

The parasites made me do it.

I do like how risk taking, short attention spans and independence are mixed in with anti-social, jealousy and a case of the uglies. OK. That's one wicked parasite.

When people state that they are incorruptible, my shorthand translates that as "I am not corruptible at the going rates." That's pretty much my situation. If someone offered me ten thousand dollars to violate a trust, I'd turn them down cold. If they offered me one hundred thousand, I'd probably report them. If they offered me a million dollars, I'd sigh deeply, wipe a tear from my eye, and then turn them down and report them. Those numbers aren't worth it to me.

Now, if Angie Everhart, in some tight fitting catsuit, and a briefcase stuffed with crisp, new, one million dollar bills approached me and said [REDACTED FOR NATIONAL SECURITY REASONS] and, then we'd [REDACTED FOR FAMILY FRIENDLINESS] and after [REDACTED FOR GOOD TASTE], then, yes, I might be tempted. That's why it's called temptation.

I identify my "temptation point" and then avoid it rigoursly. My daily commute is a constant challenge, as I tend to keep one eye on the road, and the other on the look out for Angie Everhart in a catsuit.

The burdens we bear.

I'm constantly surprised, though, how cheaply people go on the open market. Take George Soros. When this man started his political activities, he had about seven billion hard earned dollars (just ask the British). Now, many years later, he has seven billion hard earned dollars, plus some more. Mr. Soros' giving is in grants, ussually small denominations, a five hundred thousand spot bill here and there. Or the Maliks of the House Saud. The money they spend of prostelizing is hardly a dent in the Kingdom's annual shopping budget line item. Or the Persians. While we (that would be us) spent billions recontructing Bahgdad and it's surrounding environs [Iraq], the Persians were building clinics, hiring militias and "gaining friends".

Duke Cunnigham, war hero, Congressman (R-Former) is sitting in jail today over a boat. Many of the congressscritter implicated in the Abramhoff thing went down, or are going down, over dinner, trips, and comped hotel rooms. Small stuff.

Archimedes was off his rocker. You don't need a lever. Some money, salted here and there will do the trick.

Here's Angie Everhart. Not in a catsuit:

Monday, December 25, 2006

Christmas Geekiness....

The speculists blog is becoming a daily read. Two nibblets cribbed from them:

Celestia: A sort of google universe.

Starship Dimensions: Helps you to visualize the odd cardassian battlewagon versus an alliance cruiser. Or some such.

Heads in the clouds day. And don't forget to check out this gem:

Extrasolar Visions



Goose is going well. Easier to cook than I thought. The recipe calls for a higher temperature than I'm used to using on poultry, but the bird smells good. One hour to go.

Merry Christmas

and a Happy New Year.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Welfare Queens...

Remember the term welfare queens? Back in the eighties. Generally conjured up images of black, single mothers, scamming the system. Now, we meet the new welfare queens. I will say this about Brussels: they do have some great chocolate and beer.

I love listening to people like David Duke, that Irving dude recently let out of jail and the nation of islam. Folks who believe in predetermination. Folks who, in their own way, eschew free will.

I'm good, cuz I wuz borned that way.

Two types of people in the world. Those concerned with where they were at when born, and those concerned with where they are at when the die.

At least to my mind.

Going to try and grill a trout tonight. I'm not really a big fish fan, unless it comes from some fancy joint, like Captain D's or Long John Silvers. But last night I forced an old fashioned New England clam bake, modified by geography of course, on my wife. She is not a big shellfish fan.

This has led to an argument about fish.

She believes fish should swim. I think that's silly.

But we compromise.

Monday, December 18, 2006

The passive voice make me smarte...

Look, I love this construction: "It is overdetermined that most readers...."

What a sweet sentence. I'll use it in future teaching opportunities. Ahem. "Boss, it is overdetermined that the undernegotiation of the proximate negligent [enemy] requires inducement of further options."

Words are pretty.

BTW, the nut of his argument is: "constitution old, badly written." We need to rethink this, and develop some more words....:

"....that would give us a better Constitution."

Mark v 11.0. Truly European.

One would, perhaps, overdetermine that more proof, in support of the preceding supplication to reason, be, forsooth, forthcoming.

My run went well. Lamb with merlot does cap off a good day. Two post this day. Must explain the crick in my neck.

Smile. Phred loves you all.

"My name is Phred, and I'm a nerd."

"Hi, Phred"

American Rhetoric: Top 100 Speeches

Going to load up a few on the iPod and go for a run.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Needs must

Several minutes ago, an Australian Politician I never heard of declared socialism dead.



Finally.

In other news, TIME has released (courtesy of Chrysler) it's new Entity of the Year. And, it's YOU [Cue musak]:




Old labour, the New Leisure?

Friday, December 15, 2006

Cold (Olympus) Mons

So last night the windstorm came in and blew the lights out.

When we woke up this morning, no electricity, no Internet connection, no CNN, and in a totally self absorbed moment, I wondered, "is this how the Romans felt, as the Visigoths approached. Is this how civilizations fall, iBooks and iPods failing?" And inside, I cried a little.

O.K., maybe not.

But a couple of things right:

1. Hand crank radio and flashlights. Check.

2. Chemlights and candles. Check.

3. Food and water on hand. Check.

Wrong:

1. No generator. Looked around a few places, but, well, you know. One guy asked me, "how much are you willing to pay?" No thanks. Note to self: buy emergency equipment in non emergent times. Seems right.

2. Gas in the car. Minor issue, but I'll never disparage a full tank.

Fortunately, the lights came on a few minutes ago. Meat still good in the frig. Wife now warm.

Were we prepared? Sort of....but nothing wrong with being prepared for the long haul.

Sets, kits and outfits.

Heat up to 67 degrees, now.

Good test run.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Secrets to marriage #376

"When you get home around seven p.m., and there's a phone/DSL/cable bill that seems a little high, and you're tired, and you'd planned on a light barbecue, but it started raining, and then there's some reading you wanted to catch up on, 'toons you wanted to sketch out and also some planning to do for the next day, and, then, the wife says....

'I thought tonight, you'd pay attention to me.'

You go full stop.

Core dump.

Jettison all the extraneous, and, well, pay attention to her.

And you are both happier because you did."

Heard that somewhere. Just thought I'd pass it along.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Go silly, go long or go short....

So my wife just dropped her iBook on the floor. About a one, say, one and a half foot drop. My first thoughts were:

1. OMYGODOMYGODOMYGOD.

2. Why didn't THEY, make a more sturdy THING WE USE, and prevent accidents like this.

3. And after a quick interwebs unravelling revealed that the cost of a new LCD was about 300 dracma (US), I thought, "well, why don't THEY, have a way of universally insuring my family laptop habit?"

Well, her LCD screen wasn't cracked (on the computer, you pervs), so I got out a flat head screwdriver, popped the hinge back in place, and vuu-la, problem fixed.

Funny how that works.

In my webtoons (above...that's not advertising for "Head on") I never reference Islam. I do this on purpose. The corporation has taught me that any one can talk forever, and say nothing. It takes genius to say a few words and explain everything. I'm not a genius, but I play one on this blog. I never reference Islam because it's not about the current manifestation. It's about type. Islamists, a future Dolphin Liberation League? Different day, same dollar.

Did you know that wikipedia lists some 5,638 different types of socialism?

My shorthand describes the two competing philosophies of the day, well any day, as between the free and the slavers. Works for me. Keeps me from getting so deep in the weeds, that I miss the RPG.

My wife asked me about those Zale's Diamond commercials. "Why does everyone in this country want these diamonds so much? They're nice, but not the most important thing." Told her I did not know.

To me, diamonds are just oil you can't burn anymore.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Is there life....

...after forty? Scientist have discovered water, there, on forty, but as yet, no signs of life. While many have "crossed over" into their forties, all that we know, at this date, are some rather unreliable reports from people in their thirties who, working through mediums, confirm that yes, well, life continues into ones forties, and, in addition, that there is no amount of nesting prohibited if, of course, you use sufficient amounts of commas.

Treat this with skepticism.

When I was twenty, I figured by the time I hit thirty, I'd better have at least a million dracma in gold bullion cubes stashed away. The way my thinking went, at thirty, my man unit would fall off, and all I'd be left with was the cold comfort of cash.

Well, my man unit remained on, and my bank account remained about what it was when I worked at Baskins Robbins.

Trade offs.

I read, today, somewhere on the interwebs, about David Duke heading over to Persia for a conference on the Holocaust. I think it had something to do with the freedom of thought. Minitru, honest. David Duke has a presence on the web. What's called a page. It seems edited by Not Duke, but a person of undoubtably good Aryan Stock. Lot of chatter, on his site, about Aryanism and genetics and western civilization. And so now Dave (can I call him Dave?) headed over to Persia. Probably to establish a consensus. I wonder, as people strive to consensulate, do they ever wonder who they are consensulating with. Lay down with racist, get up with mullahs kind of thing.

Neal Stephenson wrote a trilogy called the Baroque Cycle. I tried to read it, but, to be upfront, the book was beyond my ability to understand. I like my books to have "for dummies" nested somewhere in the title. But I liked the title of his secod book in the series:

The Confusion.

Seems to me, as some have said, and according to others, that the deck chairs are being rearranged. A prequel, of sorts. You guys, with your beliefs, get on that side, my guys, with our beliefs, will gather up over here, and then it's on:

UNO.

And may the best Sentient Entity win.

Here's a picture of Marcia Cross. Only because gingers are generally underrated.

Saturday, December 9, 2006

Ourspace

New webline offering. Comicspace, a sort of myspace for itinerant doodler, without all the um, you, stuff, on like myspace, that um, I don't know, really like. Inarticulateness. Myspace is to GEN Y what AOL was to GEN X and dope was to BOOMERS.

Mind rot, if used to often.

I am not, by nature, a very social person. Bad programming, as the nowillies* would say.

So the shuttle's about to take of, again. When I was a phrap, I couldn't get enough of watching that. Now, I think, "strap a base plate to the bottom of that sucker, start detonating mininukes and send that puppy straight to Mars."

Orion:




Stability is for tables.

Friday, December 8, 2006

The flesh is willing...

...but the mind is weak.

Today, I watch the corporation process this kid for unemployment. After he'd been read the charges, he was asked, " is there anything else you want to ask?"

"Yes. Can I change the past?"

"No," was the response.

The kid will be gone by Jan07. Yes, he flucked up. Yes, he needs go.

And yet. I wished I could have kept him.

Hard choices await, on the Fields of Pelennor.

The mind says no, yet the gut says....

I wish him godspeed.

Wednesday, December 6, 2006

Camels from horses....

I had a boss who used to qoute Mother Teresa, something about "work worth doing." It's taken me awhile to come around to that, but now I'm see what he means. I'm bone tired. Long day. Up before dawn, home after dark. But I walked in the door with a smile on my face. I'm liking the new job, my wife sees that, and it makes us both happier.


Underating work, underrates something very central to ourselves.

Take it from me, I'm the laziest man on earth (and not in the "good" Robert Heinlien way). But I do love a challenge. Leave it up to the corporation to give me one. Interesting year, ahead.

So, the same day NASA confirms water on Mars, the Sci Fi channel shows "H.G. Well's War of the World". Looks like a Sci Fi channel original. Twenty dollar special effects, but with a lot of love for the source material. My wife asked me what it was about, and I told her it was the reason we needed to invade Mars, RIGHT NOW, and KILL THEM, BEFORE THEY KILL US (tm). Or talk to them.

We need a commission to look into our options.

My guess, despite the build up, the ISG Report is going into the circular file. Dissappoints. Neither hare nor hair.

Surprised to find out that it was produced under the auspices of the United States Institute of Peace. USIP: Minitru or degrees in need of jobs?

Loving life.

Sunday, December 3, 2006

Goodbye the old..

Her root canal went well. But, for the past couple of days, my wife has been going around doing a decent imitation of Popeye. Got some antibiotics yesterday, so hopefully, she'll be all well by mid week.

Glenn is opening an invitation to the blogosphere to discuss ways to win in Iraq. Sounds like fun. My short answer is that you don't.

By trade I'm a logistician. I move boxes. Strategy is beyond me.

When I was shopping my brains to institutes of higher learning (college) for the subtle ministration of a modern education, one moment stands out. My step dad drove us north, about two hours, to the big city. Well, I interviewed, did well, and was offered a scholarship. The recruiter, out there on the curb, looked at me and said "your dad must really love you." Well, of course. He's said it before. Only later did I realize what he meant. Yeah, my step dad said he love me, but his demonstration of love was in what he did.

My shorthand calls that "love from the lips, or love from the hands". Smarter people compare eros and agape.

Friday, December 1, 2006

Sasquatch!!!

Now in the great nor'west, that would be pretty exciting. Rumor has it, he tramps about the woods, here. Unfortunately, it was just a matter of proper name troubles (sort of like those pesky "pronoun" troubles). Turns out it was just a raccoon, moving along the back fence. She had trouble coming up with the English name "raccoon" and just blurted out "Sasquatch!1"

Two little glowing eyes, looking at us from the dark, as we look at it from the light.

Raccoons are pretty impressive. Tough hide. Claws. Speed. Ability to climb. Those teeth.

But they're small. I'd imagine if one was attacking me, they'd look bigger. But over distance, they're pretty small. Easily defeated.

And we have brains.

It's o.k. to fear. It's how we respond to fear, that determines who we are.

Today, I took off from work. My wife had to have a root canal. Her first time seeing an 'merkin dentist. Seems those dentist behind the iron curtain doubled as KGB interrogators.

She went through the root canal, and realized the experience wasn't so bad.

I never get upset when "politicians" seem to "break" their "promises". Maybe it's the spirit of the season. As we begin regifting, say around December 26th, is it unreasonable for politicians to start "re-promising" once the sceptre is seized?

Got Season Four of Enterprise on DVD. Looks promising. I was out of pocket for most of it's last season, and it's a show I really enjoyed. Optimism over adversity.

Life sucks, and then you strive....

Italian beauty:

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Cybil Warrble....

So I'm sitting in this [absolutely boring, technical, this part goes here, that widget does this] meeting, and M comments that on her deployment, and that they were fortunate to have a Farsi speaker in the ranks. Seems many of the prisoners in these DET Facilities were Iranian, and thought they could get away speaking Farsi, and all.

Then I thought about string.

O.K., not really. I thought about open source reporting about Sryian and Persian involvement in OIF Actual, OIF v2.3 and OIF v3.8, etc.

Man, there is something to admire in an enemy. Stick too-it-edness.

So I figured out the Thanksgiving Ham conudrum. Short version: black beans (two cans), cabbage, celery, onion (small), potatoes (red), a bit of cumin and some pepper. Render the meat on bone, chop it, add the other items and cook on low. Suddenly, the extravagance of a thirty dracma side of pork doesn't seem so extravagant. Ham soup for days.

The movie "Jarhead"? All the angst, none of the danger. Having a hard time relating to the whole thing...seems like a butch "Three Kings."

My new pet theory: the brother-in-law-hood of man.

Sometimes, it's no more noble than this:




And the rocking world goes on.....

Monday, November 27, 2006

On/Off

So my wife and I are watching "Independence Day". She said, "ah, this is what Independence Day is about." I responded, yeah, "two hundred odd years ago, America threw off the oppression of an alien tyranny, by dumping a virus into their data stream."

Out of nowhere, she said: "If Americans be such cowards [as today] in Civil War, then there would be big problem."

To explain, my wife grew up behind the Iron Curtain. I grew up the son of former slaves. There's that interracial (Mars/Venus?) dynamic going on in our house. My wife has yet to drink the kool aid, leaving me to be the house hippie.

So I told her it was part of the American character. To argue. Even when you are right. You have to continue arguing.

Freedom is like a prostitute. Many enjoy her services, but when it comes to actually standing up to the pimp....well, I'll need to work that theory a bit.

In other news, via Glenn, I find ought that (see previous post) may be able to store more data than even the most advanced DVD...be they Blu-Ray, X-Ray or Ray Ray. But data is binary. Data is data. Make the medium flexible. I'd rather do without the plastic junk I'll have to cut up, later.

Still Cool.

Paper rocks scissors. Looks fake, but wish (with elbows) it was true.
See, I'm not a fan of DVDs. They've become like the the cassettes of old. Monotainment. When it comes to DVDs/CDs I digitize them as fast as I can, get them onto a more flexible medium. The problem we have has a household is storage. We are medium poor. By my calculations, our house has just under a terabyte in storage.

We have to make choices.

By rangel in congress, I should have chosen another career.

Regrets.

Urusla Andres on a V.E.S.P.A.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

The interwebs is a ball of string....

And I am it's kitten.

I've owned, used and disposed of palm pilots, and varying WINCE devices. Nothing beats pen and paper. By the time you got the pen thingy out, navigate to the notes page, I will, with pen and paper, have already captured the material. This John Henry is a pen driving man.

My commute to work takes about thirty minutes. In that time, I've come up with eight or nine ideas. Three of which will change the world as we know it, two of which will advance the cause of Phred in the world, and one which will institute world peace. On Mars.

By the time I reach work, I've usually forgotten all but one. And that one is, "pick up toothpicks, straight kind, at the store."

I use moleskines to capture many of my on the go ideas (like toothpicks). But it usually means, at the end of the day, I'm trying to organize my thoughts by flipping through old notebooks.

I like this better:

Notecards
. Who'da thunk it. A neat variation on the hipster pda.

So I organized my file folder, following directions from Hawk's flickr site.



Just need to buy some notecards, and I'll be good to go.











BTW, here's what was in it, originally. Money from my travels, and little clippings I've been meaning to get to, I suppose.



















On another note, there was a bit of a dustup between Mark Steyn and Ralph Peters, on the future of Europe. M. Steyn sees Europe becoming a subject of the Jihad (roughly) while M. Peters, putting hope in good old fashioned European habits, sees a pogrom down the road (roughly).

Charlize Theron, in a Europeanized Burqa. That would be my guess.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Todays scrapbook

I was thinking about those four to five hour speechs the old SOV Bosses used to give at the third, fourth or ninetieth plenary session of the peoples committee on the next five year plan for increasing the agricultural output to make blessings for the peoples harvest.

Or something like that.

My takeaway was simple: the more someone speaks, the less they say.

Going into my digital scrapbook:

Hurricanes of Saturn













A two hundred plus pound catfish.















The new fashion


















"send war rocket ajax."...Ornella Muti


Friday, November 24, 2006

Venn Diagrams

I've always had a problem remembering lists and facts. So, whenever it came to learning something, I'd always draw it out. For example, the Kreb's Cycle. I could draw out where this ATPase went, where that inhibitor worked, and what the products were. I'd draw the mitochondria, make a break out showing the Kreb's Cycle, learn it, then throw it away, and do it all over again. That's how Phred learned, when he was a mere Phrap.

Tell me something, and a slight drool would form at the edge of my mouth. Show me something, and, yeah, got it. When I read "A Whole New Mind" I found that I could relate alot to what I was reading.

So I was commenting over at Scott Adam's blog, and it reminded me about venn diagrams. I need to add those to my "to do" list.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Between the Ham and the Turkey....

...I got this to work. Happy Thanksgiving.

Flickr

This is a test post from flickr, a fancy photo sharing thing.

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