While we were out for a walk last night, my wife and I talked a little bit about economics and the economy.
I told her that though I didn't like to admit it, I really don't know what makes the economy work. I didn't mean that I didn't understand the big picture concepts, but that I didn't really understand -- even at a macro level -- how you evaluate how an economy is doing, and what to do if it isn't doing well. I just have this gut feeling that there are very bright people who can argue any side of the question, so that either they agree on how things are, but totally and vigorously disagree on how we got there and what to do now, or they agree on what we ought to do but not on how to do it. Its almost, I thought, like religion -- you sign onto a packet of beliefs into which you don't look too closely, and so long as you dammit don't look behind that curtain!!! don't try to mess with it just leave it the hell alone and sit down!!!! or try to make it do different things, you're fine.
Of course, that isn't acceptable when things are going to hell in a warp-drive-enabled hand basket. You've got to do something. You just don't necessarily know what. There are always advisers -- calm, reasonable, thoughtful people who say confidently what you must do, what the effect of doing it will be. And sometimes they're even right. But sometimes they're drastically wrong. So the best thing is to tinker just a little bit, and then look to see if things are better. And hope to hell you didn't make it worse.
When I was a performance guy, I was watching a computer system run once. It was having problems, so I told the operator to do a couple of things. Ten minutes later, things had improved, so I told him to undo what he'd done -- and he said, surprised, that he'd forgotten to do them. Here I was, thinking Oh, I fixed it, I am smart, and I hadn't done a damn thing. I didn't really understand the system at all.
Sometimes, I think that economists are like that.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Rumble
There's a thunderstorm passing through the area. Every so often we hear what could be rain, lashing against the house, but it's very brief. Too bad -- we could use the rain. At least it's relatively cool -- about five to ten degrees less than normal. In two days, we'll be about two hours north of here, attending my wife's family's reunion, and that seems to be a blistering hot day, three times out of five. One is rainy, and one's nice. We'll be staying in a hotel, partially because the house (its pretty small) will be very crowded, and partially because I'm still just a little on edge about those stairs. I told my wife that while I don't routinely hold onto handrails these days, I notice that I usually stop and glance to see where they are. She told me that she tends to carry things in the hand that's away from the railing, for the same reason.
Yesterday was my big baking day -- not all that big, I suppose; I made about four dozen cookies, which sounds like a lot, but it wasn't all that big a deal. Three of those will go into the high school tomorrow as a snack, and I'll also be making mac and cheese -- home made, using the recipe that's worked very well for us every time I've made it. We really like it. Though I have to admit, if you like the standard Kraft Mac and Cheese, you might find ours a little more aggressive. If you'd had the cheese the last time I made it, you would really have thought it aggressive, as there were little shards of glass in it from when the tray exploded on me. Tomorrow, I'll be cooking in two aluminum foil pans -- cheap ones, so that I can leave them at school. We're supposed to have leftovers tomorrow night, but what with this and that, we're really just about out of them. I may bump the schedule up and make a grocery run tomorrow. I've a hankering for Taco Salad again. We had some this week and it was really good. I suppose if we had it every week, I'd get tired, but not so far. Its easy and tasty.
I've been reading Team of Rivals again. I had gotten into it about eight months ago but only read about three chapters before starting to lose track of who was who, where they were from, all of that. I'm reading more slowly this time, and making little notes in the book and on an index card. I am enjoying it. Also glancing through the copy of Understanding Baking that my mother gave me for my birthday. I like that book. Its both reasonable and, in a bakerly way, inspirational.
Speaking of inspiration -- when (and if) we put the room over the garage, we're thinking maybe we'll put solar panels there. If they can be used as a secondary power source to charge the hybrid van we hope to get around the same time....
Yesterday was my big baking day -- not all that big, I suppose; I made about four dozen cookies, which sounds like a lot, but it wasn't all that big a deal. Three of those will go into the high school tomorrow as a snack, and I'll also be making mac and cheese -- home made, using the recipe that's worked very well for us every time I've made it. We really like it. Though I have to admit, if you like the standard Kraft Mac and Cheese, you might find ours a little more aggressive. If you'd had the cheese the last time I made it, you would really have thought it aggressive, as there were little shards of glass in it from when the tray exploded on me. Tomorrow, I'll be cooking in two aluminum foil pans -- cheap ones, so that I can leave them at school. We're supposed to have leftovers tomorrow night, but what with this and that, we're really just about out of them. I may bump the schedule up and make a grocery run tomorrow. I've a hankering for Taco Salad again. We had some this week and it was really good. I suppose if we had it every week, I'd get tired, but not so far. Its easy and tasty.
I've been reading Team of Rivals again. I had gotten into it about eight months ago but only read about three chapters before starting to lose track of who was who, where they were from, all of that. I'm reading more slowly this time, and making little notes in the book and on an index card. I am enjoying it. Also glancing through the copy of Understanding Baking that my mother gave me for my birthday. I like that book. Its both reasonable and, in a bakerly way, inspirational.
Speaking of inspiration -- when (and if) we put the room over the garage, we're thinking maybe we'll put solar panels there. If they can be used as a secondary power source to charge the hybrid van we hope to get around the same time....
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Persistance? Or Idiocy?
"A determined crowd of Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton's delegates - preparing to head to the Democratic Party's national convention in Denver - have begun gathering signatures to ensure her name is placed into nomination, insisting their effort won't take spotlight off presumed Democratic nominee Barack Obama."
Uh - huh.
High School Chill
Thats the one I feel, thinking about my daughter, starting in about a month. She's a good kid, she tries, but she's no rocket scientist unless she's interested. And she does like to cut herself slack.
So this article was of interest.
So this article was of interest.
Smart Punks
You've heard of Smart Mobs. They're a manifestiation of semi-self-organizing behavior. They're interesting. But then there's Smart Punks. These guys -- the people who say they've hacked the security protocols used by the Boston-area transit system, and now want to tell the world how to do it. They're Smart Punks.
Smart, because they've obviously got intelligence, enthusiasm, and energy.
And Punks, because they hide, smirking, behind a veneer of hey, we just wanted to help when they're publicizing things that really ought to be kept secret
Smart Punks use their intelligence in malign ways, to the detriment of society. Not just these punks, of course -- there are others doing equally vile things, such as the ones who discovered and publicized a way to remotely hack into the software used by pacemakers, thus giving the ability to remotely alter the functioning of the device. The worst of it is, somewhere down the line, punks like these'll be praised by corporate america when they sell out, mouthing platitudes about their misspent youth and how they've now seen the light.
I suppose that at one time I'd have liked to be them. Certainly, even now, I'd like to have their skills. But not so much, any more. I think it's called maturity -- though I imagine they have some sneering term for it.
Smart, because they've obviously got intelligence, enthusiasm, and energy.
And Punks, because they hide, smirking, behind a veneer of hey, we just wanted to help when they're publicizing things that really ought to be kept secret
Smart Punks use their intelligence in malign ways, to the detriment of society. Not just these punks, of course -- there are others doing equally vile things, such as the ones who discovered and publicized a way to remotely hack into the software used by pacemakers, thus giving the ability to remotely alter the functioning of the device. The worst of it is, somewhere down the line, punks like these'll be praised by corporate america when they sell out, mouthing platitudes about their misspent youth and how they've now seen the light.
I suppose that at one time I'd have liked to be them. Certainly, even now, I'd like to have their skills. But not so much, any more. I think it's called maturity -- though I imagine they have some sneering term for it.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Orderin
I mention on occasion being impressed by people who can extrapolate from current conditions to what if we sold it this way. Here's an example, from today's New York Times.
For people who go to a hotel with limited food availability, plus, naturally, Pizza Hut or Dominos, and are looking for alternatives, there's a company called Order Inn that contracts with reputable local restaurants to sell and deliver food to the hotel. You call an 800 number, place your order from a laminated menu supplied to the hotel. It's promised to arrive in about the time that a pizza would take, and the fare ranges from sandwiches to steaks.
Now, there's a good idea.
For people who go to a hotel with limited food availability, plus, naturally, Pizza Hut or Dominos, and are looking for alternatives, there's a company called Order Inn that contracts with reputable local restaurants to sell and deliver food to the hotel. You call an 800 number, place your order from a laminated menu supplied to the hotel. It's promised to arrive in about the time that a pizza would take, and the fare ranges from sandwiches to steaks.
Now, there's a good idea.
Waffling
This morning, halfway through the recipe I was trying for Belgian Waffles, I turned to my wife and said "This is why this recipe comes from a professional chef. He has a prep cook, and he has lots of dishes." The recipe looks pretty good, but its a lot of work. Perhaps you need Emeril's touch....
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/classic-belgian-waffles-recipe/
2 cups cake flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs, separated
2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 cups milk
non-stick cooking spray
Preheat the waffle iron according to the manufacturer's instructions.
In 1 medium bowl sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
In a second bowl use the wooden spoon to beat together the egg yolks and sugar until sugar is completely dissolved and eggs have turned a pale yellow.
Add the vanilla extract, melted butter, and milk to the eggs and whisk to combine.
Combine the egg-milk mixture with the flour mixture and whisk just until blended. Do not over mix!
In third bowl, beat the egg whites with an electric mixer until soft peaks form, about 1 minute.
Using the rubber spatula, gently fold the egg whites into the waffle batter. Do not overmix!
Coat the waffle iron with non-stick cooking spray and pour enough batter in iron to just cover waffle grid.
Close and cook as per manufacturer's instructions until golden brown, about 2 to 3 minutes.
Serve immediately.
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/classic-belgian-waffles-recipe/
Belgian Waffles
2 cups cake flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs, separated
2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 cups milk
non-stick cooking spray
Preheat the waffle iron according to the manufacturer's instructions.
In 1 medium bowl sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
In a second bowl use the wooden spoon to beat together the egg yolks and sugar until sugar is completely dissolved and eggs have turned a pale yellow.
Add the vanilla extract, melted butter, and milk to the eggs and whisk to combine.
Combine the egg-milk mixture with the flour mixture and whisk just until blended. Do not over mix!
In third bowl, beat the egg whites with an electric mixer until soft peaks form, about 1 minute.
Using the rubber spatula, gently fold the egg whites into the waffle batter. Do not overmix!
Coat the waffle iron with non-stick cooking spray and pour enough batter in iron to just cover waffle grid.
Close and cook as per manufacturer's instructions until golden brown, about 2 to 3 minutes.
Serve immediately.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
McBush Again...and Again...and...
Live in Colorado, Iowa, Michigan, Missouri, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Mexico, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Virginia or Wisconsin? You might find the comments of these guys regarding the current McCain political ads to be of interest
Rope a Dope
I just read an interesting article from Seed Magazine on some research being done on the way that the brain evaluates alternatives.
The article's based on the work of a fellow named Read Montague, and what it says, boiled down, is that the brain uses a substance called dopamine to tell itself to expect a pleasurable reward. It's along the lines of bells and the Pavlovian response. Based on that research, he says that the brain uses the same technique to create what-if scenarios to evaluate the probable result of alternate actions to prior events -- for example, what if I had invested ten thousand dollars instead of one thousand; what if I'd dated this girl instead of that one. An extension of that concept is evaluation of real-time what-if scenarios -- what if this person is lying to me, what if that light turns red just before I get there.
I don't agree with all of the conclusions -- the writeup of how the ability to create what-if scenarios leads to financial bubbles seems implausible to me -- but it's an fun read. I'm always impressed by people who can do this kind of extrapolation.
The article's based on the work of a fellow named Read Montague, and what it says, boiled down, is that the brain uses a substance called dopamine to tell itself to expect a pleasurable reward. It's along the lines of bells and the Pavlovian response. Based on that research, he says that the brain uses the same technique to create what-if scenarios to evaluate the probable result of alternate actions to prior events -- for example, what if I had invested ten thousand dollars instead of one thousand; what if I'd dated this girl instead of that one. An extension of that concept is evaluation of real-time what-if scenarios -- what if this person is lying to me, what if that light turns red just before I get there.
I don't agree with all of the conclusions -- the writeup of how the ability to create what-if scenarios leads to financial bubbles seems implausible to me -- but it's an fun read. I'm always impressed by people who can do this kind of extrapolation.
Bush League
From the Reuters Site --U.S. President George W. Bush playfully pats the backside of U.S. Women's Beach Volleyball team player Misty May-Treanor (L) at her invitation while visiting the Chaoyang Park Beach Volleyball Grounds at the 2008 Summer Olympic Games in Beijing, China, August 9, 2008. Team mate Kerri Walsh (R) watches.
What. A. Bozo.
Dreams
Weird dreams last night.
Part of them, I was some kind of babysitter, or nanny, but the family had really no need of one. The biggest single thing I remember was going to their refrigerator to get my cell phone -- doesn't everyone keep their cell phone in the freezer to preserve the batteries? Inside an ice-cube tray that seals with a blue plastic lid? Phone and all? -- and being amazed at the Tardis-like size of their freezer -- so big that I couldn't easily reach the back of it.
And then there was a desolate city that had been through some kind of Armageddon, possibly still going on -- a dangerous place, with crumbled buildings here and roaming feral animals there -- wondering how I was ever going to get this college registration done.
I've really got to stop eating popcicles and anchovies before going to sleep!
You'd think I'd at least dream about the woman I saw at the supermarket yesterday -- as I told my wife, I'd never actually seen someone befoe with Daisy Dukes so tight they appeared to have been tattooed on her butt -- bringing the old joke to mind about the guy in the bar meeting the woman in the skintight leather pants --but noooo.....
Part of them, I was some kind of babysitter, or nanny, but the family had really no need of one. The biggest single thing I remember was going to their refrigerator to get my cell phone -- doesn't everyone keep their cell phone in the freezer to preserve the batteries? Inside an ice-cube tray that seals with a blue plastic lid? Phone and all? -- and being amazed at the Tardis-like size of their freezer -- so big that I couldn't easily reach the back of it.
And then there was a desolate city that had been through some kind of Armageddon, possibly still going on -- a dangerous place, with crumbled buildings here and roaming feral animals there -- wondering how I was ever going to get this college registration done.
I've really got to stop eating popcicles and anchovies before going to sleep!
You'd think I'd at least dream about the woman I saw at the supermarket yesterday -- as I told my wife, I'd never actually seen someone befoe with Daisy Dukes so tight they appeared to have been tattooed on her butt -- bringing the old joke to mind about the guy in the bar meeting the woman in the skintight leather pants --but noooo.....
Friday, August 08, 2008
Retiring
I got a call today from a friend who was just offered the opportunity to retire three years before he'd planned to do so. His company would pay for his health care for those three years, and compute his pension now as if he'd worked for three more years. He wanted our opinion as to whether he should do it.
We wasted no time in telling him that this was a good idea, and he said that was what most people told him -- though we were the only people that he knew had actually done it. We said that he should be sure his income stream was up to leaving early, and he replied that, like us, he has a spreadsheet that goes out several decades. Based on his current assumptions, and the fact that he'll have a military pension, a pension from his wife's estate, Social Security, and his 401(k), he should be fine. In fact, he thinks he might not even have to touch the 401(k) for at least twenty years.
My golly.
We wasted no time in telling him that this was a good idea, and he said that was what most people told him -- though we were the only people that he knew had actually done it. We said that he should be sure his income stream was up to leaving early, and he replied that, like us, he has a spreadsheet that goes out several decades. Based on his current assumptions, and the fact that he'll have a military pension, a pension from his wife's estate, Social Security, and his 401(k), he should be fine. In fact, he thinks he might not even have to touch the 401(k) for at least twenty years.
My golly.
Friday Chillout
And it really is, too -- the temp feels as if it's in the high sixties right now, and the sky's cloudless and bleu. This is gorgeous weather. Last night, instead of the AC, we ran the house fan for a while. What a terrific feeling to have the air rushing through the room. When we have the room put in over the garage, extending from the current bedroom, one of the absolute standards for it will be cross-ventilation -- windows on either side (unlike our current bedroom, which has just the one window). In fact, before we had the idea of putting in the room, one thought was simply to add windows to the far wall -- casement, most likely, as the view would have been of the garage roof. Not too pretty. But this will be nice - elevator from the storage room up into the current bedroom, which will take up about a fifth of the room, perhaps less; then two walk-in closets, and a closet extension in that room but connected to the next bedroom (my daughter heard about this, said 'More closet space for me! Go for it!'), and then, in the far wall (which makes it sound oh-so-many miles away; no, its just a 13x15 room), the doorway into the new room. There's a lot of details that we need to work out, but thats the plan. Going to be nice.
I hear the trash guys. I don't imagine that their job can ever be fun, but on days like this, with this weather, I imagine its not too bad. I occasionally think of going out there on a hot day with something cool for them to drink. Never do it though -- by the time that the thought has formed, they're already off to the next set of houses.
Last night my daughter called me into her room so that she could read me a user-written story she'd found. I stood there, studiously ignoring the disaster area around her bed, while she read it to me, because though neatness and order is something I value, her taking the time to share stuff with me is important, too. I'll mention the clutter today -- or perhaps tomorrow. She has a plan to move her desk into her room (its currently in the living room), putting it where her guinea pig's cage had been. That's fine with me, but she also wants to move the in-the-wall shelves. Not too sure about that -- its a fair amount of work. Perhaps this will be an opportunity to show her how to do it -- and let her do it. I'm a big believer in exposing girls to that kind of thing. When I was growing up, girls didn't routinely get exposed to working with their hands. I know they do now -- her Tech Ed classes showed me that -- but still, I like to encourage it. Though I have to enlarge her horizons carefully -- the other day I mentioned to my daughter that there are web sites where you can look for urban myths -- she'd gotten forwarded an email with one -- and I barely got the statement out before she was stopping me. Its a balancing act. I find that with my daughter, it works best --- usually --- to just mention the idea, and let her pick up on it if she's interested.
Got some of the challah dough thawing on the counter -- I've been asked for a remake. And in a week, on one day, I will be making both two trays of mac and cheese, and three dozen (!) cookies for band camp. I saw the list of people baking for it -- and I'm the only guy on the list. Odd feeling.
And thats it for now, I think.
I hear the trash guys. I don't imagine that their job can ever be fun, but on days like this, with this weather, I imagine its not too bad. I occasionally think of going out there on a hot day with something cool for them to drink. Never do it though -- by the time that the thought has formed, they're already off to the next set of houses.
Last night my daughter called me into her room so that she could read me a user-written story she'd found. I stood there, studiously ignoring the disaster area around her bed, while she read it to me, because though neatness and order is something I value, her taking the time to share stuff with me is important, too. I'll mention the clutter today -- or perhaps tomorrow. She has a plan to move her desk into her room (its currently in the living room), putting it where her guinea pig's cage had been. That's fine with me, but she also wants to move the in-the-wall shelves. Not too sure about that -- its a fair amount of work. Perhaps this will be an opportunity to show her how to do it -- and let her do it. I'm a big believer in exposing girls to that kind of thing. When I was growing up, girls didn't routinely get exposed to working with their hands. I know they do now -- her Tech Ed classes showed me that -- but still, I like to encourage it. Though I have to enlarge her horizons carefully -- the other day I mentioned to my daughter that there are web sites where you can look for urban myths -- she'd gotten forwarded an email with one -- and I barely got the statement out before she was stopping me. Its a balancing act. I find that with my daughter, it works best --- usually --- to just mention the idea, and let her pick up on it if she's interested.
Got some of the challah dough thawing on the counter -- I've been asked for a remake. And in a week, on one day, I will be making both two trays of mac and cheese, and three dozen (!) cookies for band camp. I saw the list of people baking for it -- and I'm the only guy on the list. Odd feeling.
And thats it for now, I think.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Working
I was giving some thought to the concept of working, a while ago. As I mentioned, my sudden fears about our finances (which are real enough, but likely overblown) had led me to think about going back to work - which, ineluctably, led me to thinking about how difficult that would be. I have never been a person who could casually find a job, or create a job, or anything of that sort. I've heard it said that one significant difference between Republicans and Democrats is that Republicans create jobs, and Democrats don't. I don't believe that, but I do think that there's a difference of mind set between people who create work and those who merely do it.
I am always tickled to hear of high schools that teach entrepreneurship. These are no-kidding programs that deal in real money and really make and sell a product or a service. There's usually a fair amount of academic withholding of rights and authorities along the way (else I imagine we'd hear of high schools who outsourced their product to the High School of Technology in Bangalore), but these kids are getting the real experience -- much like the kids in those 'own a child' programs have the real sense of what its like to have a child of their own, as they lug around a life-like mannequin for 48 or so hours. The kids come out of the entrepreneurial program with the awareness that it is possible to make and sell products, and it is possible to make money or go bankrupt by so doing.
But thats not the only way that people get these insights. Silicon Valley, of course; say no more. I get the impression that if you work in that environment, and you're a reasonably young, fairly bright person, you almost can't avoid being part of a startup or twelve; the people move from one to another to another like lemmings. Along the way (nature/nurture? Not sure which is the dominant force), they get the feeling that anything is possible, that making and selling a product, that having a business is as natural as breathing. My hunch is that this experience isn't for everyone; they likely have their own version of drones and whatnot, but I'd be surprised if more than a third of the working class fell into that category. The others just naturally assume that startups happen, and if not today, then certainly pretty soon. You might go to work for someone, but its just as likely that they'll go to work for you, next time around.
I've never known anyone like that, and I've never been a person like that. The most that I've been able to do is vaguely sense that there are people who can do it, and generally think that those people might even exist in this time zone. But to actually be one of them -- to be a job creator, not just a job user; to see possibilities for products and services, and then to actually put together a package and sell it; if it works, great, if not, fine, we'll come up with something else -- thats almost been as far from me as speaking fluent Greek. Someone can do it, I'm sure. Not me. Not anyone I know.
But every so often, I wonder: why should the kids have all the fun? Is it because when you’re young, you think that you’re invulnerable, or because you’ve got all this resiliency, or all this time to recover? Whatever, I wonder: why can’t we teach adults to do that entrepreneurial dance? How do we switch on that gene? Or is it something that you're just born with, like perfect pitch?
I am always tickled to hear of high schools that teach entrepreneurship. These are no-kidding programs that deal in real money and really make and sell a product or a service. There's usually a fair amount of academic withholding of rights and authorities along the way (else I imagine we'd hear of high schools who outsourced their product to the High School of Technology in Bangalore), but these kids are getting the real experience -- much like the kids in those 'own a child' programs have the real sense of what its like to have a child of their own, as they lug around a life-like mannequin for 48 or so hours. The kids come out of the entrepreneurial program with the awareness that it is possible to make and sell products, and it is possible to make money or go bankrupt by so doing.
But thats not the only way that people get these insights. Silicon Valley, of course; say no more. I get the impression that if you work in that environment, and you're a reasonably young, fairly bright person, you almost can't avoid being part of a startup or twelve; the people move from one to another to another like lemmings. Along the way (nature/nurture? Not sure which is the dominant force), they get the feeling that anything is possible, that making and selling a product, that having a business is as natural as breathing. My hunch is that this experience isn't for everyone; they likely have their own version of drones and whatnot, but I'd be surprised if more than a third of the working class fell into that category. The others just naturally assume that startups happen, and if not today, then certainly pretty soon. You might go to work for someone, but its just as likely that they'll go to work for you, next time around.
I've never known anyone like that, and I've never been a person like that. The most that I've been able to do is vaguely sense that there are people who can do it, and generally think that those people might even exist in this time zone. But to actually be one of them -- to be a job creator, not just a job user; to see possibilities for products and services, and then to actually put together a package and sell it; if it works, great, if not, fine, we'll come up with something else -- thats almost been as far from me as speaking fluent Greek. Someone can do it, I'm sure. Not me. Not anyone I know.
But every so often, I wonder: why should the kids have all the fun? Is it because when you’re young, you think that you’re invulnerable, or because you’ve got all this resiliency, or all this time to recover? Whatever, I wonder: why can’t we teach adults to do that entrepreneurial dance? How do we switch on that gene? Or is it something that you're just born with, like perfect pitch?
Miscellania
The purpose of a computer is to assist you in losing your mind.
This morning, I noticed that this laptop was starting to jump the cursor around for no apparent reason. Well, I thought, I know there is something to do with the touchpad setting that will affect that, let me go look. And though I in-and-outed several times, there was no touchpad setting to be found under Mouse. Five minutes ago, I mentioned to my wife how perplexed I was, and she said 'Well, on mine, its under Mouse', to which I replied 'No, see, I went right -- what the hell????' Because, you see, there it was, as it had been all along. Except when it hadn't.
After all of that, I still don't understand how 'gestures', 'pointer gestures', and 'edge motion' are supposed to work. I understand the concept, but not the execution. I'll give you a GESTURE !
Last night, I spent some time on finances. I wish that I had not done that. I learned two distressing things. One, that last month we spent about a third more than I thought - all defensible, but still - and two, that according to Excel's Goal Seek took, if I wanted to reach zero dollars as the very last entry for assets - our spreadsheet goes out to 2041, which is not as far out as it seemed when I first built the forecast spreadsheet, then we need to spend about a quarter less per month, forever, than I thought we normally did. Now, this can also be changed by making more than I show for income from interest and dividends (which is currently too high anyway; thank you, Ben Bernanke), but as thats not likely, we need to proceed on the assumption that we should spend less. This is not comforting to me. I know that I am not alone in this observation, but -- man!
This is when I start to think Gee, maybe I ought to go back to work. Um, yeah. That'll be simple to do.
(Things aren't desperate. I mean, we're talking ten, fifteen years out. I'm just really surprised.)
This morning, I noticed that this laptop was starting to jump the cursor around for no apparent reason. Well, I thought, I know there is something to do with the touchpad setting that will affect that, let me go look. And though I in-and-outed several times, there was no touchpad setting to be found under Mouse. Five minutes ago, I mentioned to my wife how perplexed I was, and she said 'Well, on mine, its under Mouse', to which I replied 'No, see, I went right -- what the hell????' Because, you see, there it was, as it had been all along. Except when it hadn't.
After all of that, I still don't understand how 'gestures', 'pointer gestures', and 'edge motion' are supposed to work. I understand the concept, but not the execution. I'll give you a GESTURE !
Last night, I spent some time on finances. I wish that I had not done that. I learned two distressing things. One, that last month we spent about a third more than I thought - all defensible, but still - and two, that according to Excel's Goal Seek took, if I wanted to reach zero dollars as the very last entry for assets - our spreadsheet goes out to 2041, which is not as far out as it seemed when I first built the forecast spreadsheet, then we need to spend about a quarter less per month, forever, than I thought we normally did. Now, this can also be changed by making more than I show for income from interest and dividends (which is currently too high anyway; thank you, Ben Bernanke), but as thats not likely, we need to proceed on the assumption that we should spend less. This is not comforting to me. I know that I am not alone in this observation, but -- man!
This is when I start to think Gee, maybe I ought to go back to work. Um, yeah. That'll be simple to do.
(Things aren't desperate. I mean, we're talking ten, fifteen years out. I'm just really surprised.)
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Birthday Reflections
This was a good birthday.
We went for a drive as a family (to use my wife's treasured phrase) down to Lancaster, where we ate lunch at a decent restaurant and then went to a museum of Amish culture that was right across the street, and which was surprisingly good. I would never have expected to see a quilt with the theme of Richard Nixon's resignation, or one about Bill Clinton with, among other things, a McDonalds and the phrase "I never inhaled". Monica was not there.
This evening, we had spaghetti along with those Sicilian Meatballs I made a few days ago, and we had the tiramisu, which wasn't at all bad. I'd like to learn how to make decent chocolate shavings -- which plays right into my birthday gift, a copy of Amendola's Understanding Baking. I was delighted, and started leafing through it again on the way back. My daughter reminded me that I promised to make challah again, and as I have another hunk of dough in the freezer, that should be pretty simple.
So, I'm pleased. No surprise deliveries from Circuit City, but hey, there's always next year.
We went for a drive as a family (to use my wife's treasured phrase) down to Lancaster, where we ate lunch at a decent restaurant and then went to a museum of Amish culture that was right across the street, and which was surprisingly good. I would never have expected to see a quilt with the theme of Richard Nixon's resignation, or one about Bill Clinton with, among other things, a McDonalds and the phrase "I never inhaled". Monica was not there.
This evening, we had spaghetti along with those Sicilian Meatballs I made a few days ago, and we had the tiramisu, which wasn't at all bad. I'd like to learn how to make decent chocolate shavings -- which plays right into my birthday gift, a copy of Amendola's Understanding Baking. I was delighted, and started leafing through it again on the way back. My daughter reminded me that I promised to make challah again, and as I have another hunk of dough in the freezer, that should be pretty simple.
So, I'm pleased. No surprise deliveries from Circuit City, but hey, there's always next year.
Occupation: Foole
That's not my line, but rather George Carlin's, who once said that he was using it as his 'occupation' entry on his tax form, and was even spelling it with the trailing E, 'just to piss'em off'.
This woman has an occupation description that's pretty awesome too, I think.
This woman has an occupation description that's pretty awesome too, I think.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
B-Day
Tomorrow's my birthday. I don't really care, though I was teasing my wife that this will be my last full year before a decade change. "Getting old", I said. "Old and retired and decrepit and --" She cut me off. "You're only as old as you feel", she said. "Yes", I replied, "which is why they don't let me go hang around with the kids any more."
Fortunately, she's used to my sense of humour!
Fortunately, she's used to my sense of humour!
Stylin'
This afternoon, I came across an ad for a new HD television. I could not tell you which it was -- they all blended together a while back, in my mind, and though the cognoscenti undoubtedly speak knowledgeably about HDMI inputs and true black and anti-glare this and aspect-ratio that, the one thing that stuck in my mind from the ad was the statement that the screen was surrounded by, and I more or less quote, a shiny black border.
Why Black?
Why is it necessary to have a glistening black border? Bad enough when it's black matte, which to me always looks like the vendor got a special deal from Plywood R Us, but glistening? Is that so that more of the room light can reflect from it? But better than that -- why black at all? Why not a warm cherry, or a deep mahogany, or some other wood? Heck, it doesn't have to be great wood, and I'm aware of the idea that it should be from a sustainable source -- too bad, really, as I've always wanted a television cabinet surrounded by real ivory -- but something other than black, something to bring some warmth to the environment? Some style?
Designers and augmenters, why not incorporate wood around the technology -- like this?
Why Black?
Why is it necessary to have a glistening black border? Bad enough when it's black matte, which to me always looks like the vendor got a special deal from Plywood R Us, but glistening? Is that so that more of the room light can reflect from it? But better than that -- why black at all? Why not a warm cherry, or a deep mahogany, or some other wood? Heck, it doesn't have to be great wood, and I'm aware of the idea that it should be from a sustainable source -- too bad, really, as I've always wanted a television cabinet surrounded by real ivory -- but something other than black, something to bring some warmth to the environment? Some style?
Designers and augmenters, why not incorporate wood around the technology -- like this?
Musing
I made some tiramisu, and it's chilling now, we'll be able to have it for my birthday. Question is, should I make some cake, too? And, if so, should it be brand new, or that cake I made a while ago and slid into the freezer?
Plural
I did the summarization of the article on plurality, as I mentioned earlier, and in so doing, I found something that startled me. It may well be (he said modestly) that the material is too dense for me, but a large part of why I found it tough to read, first, second, and third times through was -- it was badly written, badly organized. Instead of a major point, a series of contributing points building up to a defense of the main point, and then a summarization, it was 'here's some stuff, here's some other stuff, this might be related, and , oh, I'm done'.
My golly.
My golly.
Homeland Insecurity
I've mentioned in the past my disgust with the concept that HS can grab and keep your laptop if you cross the border, just because they feel like it (no need to prove probable cause), handing off your information to whomever they want, with no requirements to in any way protect it, or even return it in any amount of reasonable time, or with any particular care. (And you have seen how effective my scorn has been in pushing them back onto the straight and narrow.)
Turns out there's at least one way to defeat their greasy prying.
Turns out there's at least one way to defeat their greasy prying.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Analysis
I'm doing something that I've wanted to do for a while. It surprises me how difficult it is.
Put simply, I'm summarizing an article so that I can understand it. It's not a learned or scholarly article -- instead, its a relatively simple one from The New Yorker on pluralism -- the idea that effective actions in politics are taken in concert by multiple people, working together or independently. I've never understood on any but the most superficial level how politics works. I don't particularly care for the idea that it works by powerful people imposing their will, but I couldn't see how it would work any other way.
So, when I came across this article today, I thought I'm going to READ this, and do my best to understand it. Its not that its tough reading so much as that I've just lost the ability to read and understand anything but simple ideas. And so I printed it off, and now I'm going through it, highlighting key phrases. When I'm done, I will write myself a short summary of those key points.
I may not remember them tomorrow. But I will by god have tried.
Put simply, I'm summarizing an article so that I can understand it. It's not a learned or scholarly article -- instead, its a relatively simple one from The New Yorker on pluralism -- the idea that effective actions in politics are taken in concert by multiple people, working together or independently. I've never understood on any but the most superficial level how politics works. I don't particularly care for the idea that it works by powerful people imposing their will, but I couldn't see how it would work any other way.
So, when I came across this article today, I thought I'm going to READ this, and do my best to understand it. Its not that its tough reading so much as that I've just lost the ability to read and understand anything but simple ideas. And so I printed it off, and now I'm going through it, highlighting key phrases. When I'm done, I will write myself a short summary of those key points.
I may not remember them tomorrow. But I will by god have tried.
Silly
Here is a silly bit of trivia about me. I like when I look down and see flour on my shirt. It almost certainly means that I've been baking.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Observation
In an earlier post, I mentioned that I was much more restrained in my political fervor than most of the people who I'd met at an Obama event, and wondered if there was, essentially, something wrong with my attitude -- too tepid, too moderate. Was it possible, I was thinking, that I was being too meek in how I approached my support of Obama (and, by inference, any worthwhile cause). In response, one person said some very nice things about me, concluding that due to my qualities, she wanted to have sex with me, bear my child, and paint my house. Well, no, she didn't go quite that far .... which is unfortunate, as the house could use painting, particularly back by the deck.
I did appreciate what she said, though, because I do worry a little about that lack of intensity. I simply don't get very excited about many things. That might be hard for some people to accept who have seen me get excited, even enraged, when something tripped the lever that released the great fiery beasts of unreason, all snarling and growling into the sunlight, and they might wonder how I can describe myself as such a milquetoast. One person with whom I worked once commented that he was not coming back to talk to me again unless he was carrying a stick. I was having a very bad day, at the time, and he felt I was a little on edge. But most days, I'm pretty quiet, pretty easy going. And when I see something that brings up the question of which way to go, I tend to approach the question systematically. Not necessarily logically, you understand, but systematically. I make lists. I ponder things. I weigh the evidence. And then I use the dual state probability indicator, aka a flipping coin, if all else fails. But I don't get agitated.
So to see people who do take this stuff intensely always sets me back a bit. Take it seriously, sure. Its important. But feverishly, rabidly, remembering slights from years gone by? Ah, no. Not for me.
I did appreciate what she said, though, because I do worry a little about that lack of intensity. I simply don't get very excited about many things. That might be hard for some people to accept who have seen me get excited, even enraged, when something tripped the lever that released the great fiery beasts of unreason, all snarling and growling into the sunlight, and they might wonder how I can describe myself as such a milquetoast. One person with whom I worked once commented that he was not coming back to talk to me again unless he was carrying a stick. I was having a very bad day, at the time, and he felt I was a little on edge. But most days, I'm pretty quiet, pretty easy going. And when I see something that brings up the question of which way to go, I tend to approach the question systematically. Not necessarily logically, you understand, but systematically. I make lists. I ponder things. I weigh the evidence. And then I use the dual state probability indicator, aka a flipping coin, if all else fails. But I don't get agitated.
So to see people who do take this stuff intensely always sets me back a bit. Take it seriously, sure. Its important. But feverishly, rabidly, remembering slights from years gone by? Ah, no. Not for me.
Tags
I put up a picture a few posts ago of a word cloud, which is a technology I know nothing about, but think is quite crafty and useful. By using the other side of your brain you get a sense of the prevalence of words in a block of text. I find that appealing in a completely different way than seeing a list. I don't know what people brighter than me -- quit shoving, you hordes -- do with such technology, but I like it because it turns the paradigm on its head. It appeals to the artistic, but it still supplies information. How many pieces of art can do that? In the reverse, how often can text-based information appeal to the artist? I'm not talking text-graphics, but how can columnar or line text appeal to an artist, give to an artist that which the artist would normally receive from a piece of art, just as this 'art' gives to a data-oriented person the satisfaction that data alone can give them?
Obama Mania
I'm not an Obama maniac. I don't think that he can do no wrong, and I don't think that McCain is totally evil. I just attended an event in support of Obama, and what I found was that most of the people there are Obama maniacs, and do think that McCain is totally evil.
Several of them spoke disparagingly of actions that Bush had taken in 2000 or 2004. I wanted to shake them and say What does it matter, what Bush did then? How does that affect what you're trying to do now? But I doubt they would have listened. One woman said that she thought McCain was a dishonorable person; I got the impression that she didn't want to see him just defeated, but cast out of the Senate, and possibly made to live on a barren rock with worms. My wife said that she thought he was both honorable and experienced; she replied, exasperated, 'What has he done that's worthwhile?' I got the impression that anything short of 'Healed the Lepers, Raised the Dead' would not have qualified as worthy. Another said that Colin Powell clearly knew that there was no good reason to invade Iraq, but he supported Bush anyway; perhaps he should be made to live on that rock, too. Still a third is furious that Clinton did not drop out much, much sooner, thus distracting Obama from supporting others running for office; he admitted that she had the right to continue to run, but he clearly thought it was bad form, to say the least. I asked if it was possible for Obama to shift his position on something without being seen as waffling, and they grew uncomfortable.
I get the feeling that I am in the minority. They're willing to accept me because I do adhere to the One True Faith, but thats about it. This saddens me. It also makes me wonder: am I wrong in not being so intense, so dogmatic?
Several of them spoke disparagingly of actions that Bush had taken in 2000 or 2004. I wanted to shake them and say What does it matter, what Bush did then? How does that affect what you're trying to do now? But I doubt they would have listened. One woman said that she thought McCain was a dishonorable person; I got the impression that she didn't want to see him just defeated, but cast out of the Senate, and possibly made to live on a barren rock with worms. My wife said that she thought he was both honorable and experienced; she replied, exasperated, 'What has he done that's worthwhile?' I got the impression that anything short of 'Healed the Lepers, Raised the Dead' would not have qualified as worthy. Another said that Colin Powell clearly knew that there was no good reason to invade Iraq, but he supported Bush anyway; perhaps he should be made to live on that rock, too. Still a third is furious that Clinton did not drop out much, much sooner, thus distracting Obama from supporting others running for office; he admitted that she had the right to continue to run, but he clearly thought it was bad form, to say the least. I asked if it was possible for Obama to shift his position on something without being seen as waffling, and they grew uncomfortable.
I get the feeling that I am in the minority. They're willing to accept me because I do adhere to the One True Faith, but thats about it. This saddens me. It also makes me wonder: am I wrong in not being so intense, so dogmatic?
Hilton Head...of Steam
From the New York Daily News:
Kathy Hilton is the latest member of the Hilton clan to come out swinging against presidential hopeful John McCain. "I've been asked again and again for my response to the now infamous McCain celebrity ad. I actually have three responses," Hilton, 49, told the Huffington Post. "It is a complete waste of the money John McCain's contributors have donated to his campaign," she said. "It is a complete waste of the country's time and attention at the very moment when millions of people are losing their homes and their jobs. And it is a completely frivolous way to choose the next President of the United States."
Kathy Hilton is the latest member of the Hilton clan to come out swinging against presidential hopeful John McCain. "I've been asked again and again for my response to the now infamous McCain celebrity ad. I actually have three responses," Hilton, 49, told the Huffington Post. "It is a complete waste of the money John McCain's contributors have donated to his campaign," she said. "It is a complete waste of the country's time and attention at the very moment when millions of people are losing their homes and their jobs. And it is a completely frivolous way to choose the next President of the United States."
Hollah Challah
So I made the dough. Ooh, looks good. Hacked off a chunk, rolled out the strands, braided it. (I learned how to braid in college. Really.) Um...pretty good, though I missed a crossover. Washed it with egg wash. Heated up the oven. Comes the moment of insertion.
And it sticks to the peel. This would be my moderately expensive Superpeel that can handle any kind of wet dough. Apparently, not any kind.
Arghle graghle fimit.
Scrape it off, flour the hell out of it, roll it out, strand it, braid it (got all the crossovers), reheat the oven, take the cloth off the peel, coat the bare wood with cornmeal, put the dough on the coated peel, slide the damn thing into the oven, slam the door, set the timer. Oh, and wash the cloth.
You know, I think it actually looks better, second time around.
And it sticks to the peel. This would be my moderately expensive Superpeel that can handle any kind of wet dough. Apparently, not any kind.
Arghle graghle fimit.
Scrape it off, flour the hell out of it, roll it out, strand it, braid it (got all the crossovers), reheat the oven, take the cloth off the peel, coat the bare wood with cornmeal, put the dough on the coated peel, slide the damn thing into the oven, slam the door, set the timer. Oh, and wash the cloth.
You know, I think it actually looks better, second time around.
Isolation
This is one of those mornings when you'd like to just sit in an isolation ward. Quietly, in the dark.
It's not that its a bad day -- the temperature's pretty nice, and it's not humid, which are both remarkable for being the beginning of August in Pennsylvania. (Sometimes, when I say the name of the state, I think of it being said the way that the actors in 1776 did -- Penn-syl-vane-eye-ah! But not usually. On the other hand, I don't particularly care for it when I hear the local radio announcers refer to it as 'Central Pee Ay'. Pennsylvaneyah takes too long to say? ) So that's pretty nice.
I think my mood started when I looked at the clock and realized that it was later than I normally get up on Sunday. I don't use an alarm clock; I just get up, usually about ten minutes before I want to get up. Those ten minutes pass pretty quickly, let me tell you. But this morning, it seemed, my internal chronometer was off. Oh, damn, I thought. Now I have to go to the mass where they sing. Its not that I dislike singing at mass -- its that they sing songs with absolutely no sense of joy in them. I call them Old Dead Guy songs -- all written by Joachim Frobisher in 1873, or whatever. I admit; if they were more cheerful, I'd still be a grump about them, but this makes it worse. So I really don't like going when they sing, and the first mass of the day, they don't. Thats why we go to that one.
I won't go into how I feel about going at all.
So I was just getting used to the idea that I was going to have to listen to people sing AMightyBoringSong...when I woke up. And discovered it was about ten minutes before I usually want to get up. I had just gone through all of the angst and irritation, for nothing. But okay. So I got up, and I weighed myself. OMG -- it says I lost - six pounds? That can't be right. I got off the scale, got back on. Six pounds. Went and got my glasses, got on again. Six Pounds. I was astonished, amazed. Got dressed. Thought You know, I've always wondered how much my clothes and shoes actually weigh, this would be a good time to find out. So I did; They weigh - seven and a half pounds??? That can't be right. I got off, got back on. Ditto. Took off my shoes. Down one and a half pounds. So apparently I didn't just win the weight loss lottery.
You get the idea. A couple of more things, but that was enough detail.
I'm ready for that isolation ward, now.
It's not that its a bad day -- the temperature's pretty nice, and it's not humid, which are both remarkable for being the beginning of August in Pennsylvania. (Sometimes, when I say the name of the state, I think of it being said the way that the actors in 1776 did -- Penn-syl-vane-eye-ah! But not usually. On the other hand, I don't particularly care for it when I hear the local radio announcers refer to it as 'Central Pee Ay'. Pennsylvaneyah takes too long to say? ) So that's pretty nice.
I think my mood started when I looked at the clock and realized that it was later than I normally get up on Sunday. I don't use an alarm clock; I just get up, usually about ten minutes before I want to get up. Those ten minutes pass pretty quickly, let me tell you. But this morning, it seemed, my internal chronometer was off. Oh, damn, I thought. Now I have to go to the mass where they sing. Its not that I dislike singing at mass -- its that they sing songs with absolutely no sense of joy in them. I call them Old Dead Guy songs -- all written by Joachim Frobisher in 1873, or whatever. I admit; if they were more cheerful, I'd still be a grump about them, but this makes it worse. So I really don't like going when they sing, and the first mass of the day, they don't. Thats why we go to that one.
I won't go into how I feel about going at all.
So I was just getting used to the idea that I was going to have to listen to people sing AMightyBoringSong...when I woke up. And discovered it was about ten minutes before I usually want to get up. I had just gone through all of the angst and irritation, for nothing. But okay. So I got up, and I weighed myself. OMG -- it says I lost - six pounds? That can't be right. I got off the scale, got back on. Six pounds. Went and got my glasses, got on again. Six Pounds. I was astonished, amazed. Got dressed. Thought You know, I've always wondered how much my clothes and shoes actually weigh, this would be a good time to find out. So I did; They weigh - seven and a half pounds??? That can't be right. I got off, got back on. Ditto. Took off my shoes. Down one and a half pounds. So apparently I didn't just win the weight loss lottery.
You get the idea. A couple of more things, but that was enough detail.
I'm ready for that isolation ward, now.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
How High?
This afternoon, I was standing at the stove, cooking dinner, when my daughter dropped a broom behind me with a sharp bang. I think I levitated. This time, no glass shards landed in the food, though, which is goodness, as I'd just gotten through putting the last of the meatballs in with the simmering tomato sauce, and that would have given them a mystery crunch. I like this recipe -- its one I'd found in a magazine, and its pretty easy, but it does take a while. I think that next time we make it, I'll try some Italian sausage in with the beef, just to alter the flavor a bit. Speaking of flavor, we have a treat coming up - my birthday, for which I'm going to make some Tiramisu (yum!) and possibly some bread -- I looked at a recipe for Limpa bread that looks interesting, or maybe challah -- if I did that, we could have French toast, which is goodness. Either way, my wife's taking the week off -- just to make sure that she gets some of the Tiramisu this time (g).
Logos
Logos work best when you don't have to think about them. Bright yellow capital M? McDonalds. Red Circle/Blue Bar? London Underground.
But what if you took the name of one company and used another's logo style for it?
But what if you took the name of one company and used another's logo style for it?
British Security
I can't figure out if this is a joke. In better times, I would have scoffed and said that of course it was -- but these aren't better times, and it is set in Britain, where the forces of Law and Order have become at least a little crazed with their own authority.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Kitchen Safety Note
If you have a 9x13 Pyrex tray resting on a burner which is off, next to one that is on (but not touching the burner), and on an oven which is on, too -- the tray may explosively shatter and send shards everywhere. Trust me on this. It's quite impressive.
D'Oh!
Here's my first try. The picture is of a 7 ounce loaf, made from just over 9 ounces of wet dough.It really did take five minutes a day. Well, okay, a little more this morning, because I'm clumsy -- but not much more. You know, this could get to be fun. Its certainly very, very easy.
The recipe source is Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. Here's their blog and website. The book has some useful tips I've not seen elsewhere -- the kind of thing experts are supposed to tell you, but only do if you're talking face to face.
Sit Down, Shut Up
From the Washington Post:
Federal agents may take a traveler's laptop computer or other electronic device to an off-site location for an unspecified period of time without any suspicion of wrongdoing, as part of border search policies the Department of Homeland Security recently disclosed. Also, officials may share copies of the laptop's contents with other agencies and private entities for language translation, data decryption or other reasons, according to the policies, dated July 16 and issued by two DHS agencies, U.S. Customs and Border Protection and U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. ... DHS officials said the newly disclosed policies -- which apply to anyone entering the country, including U.S. citizens -- are reasonable and necessary to prevent terrorism. Officials said such procedures have long been in place but were disclosed last month because of public interest in the matter. ....The policies cover "any device capable of storing information in digital or analog form," including hard drives, flash drives, cellphones, iPods, pagers, beepers, and video and audio tapes. They also cover "all papers and other written documentation," including books, pamphlets and "written materials commonly referred to as 'pocket trash' or 'pocket litter.'"
This sickens me. It sickens me. These people are handing the country over to the forces of darkness. Crap -- they are the forces of darkness. They'd merge quite nicely with the Spanish Inquisition.
Federal agents may take a traveler's laptop computer or other electronic device to an off-site location for an unspecified period of time without any suspicion of wrongdoing, as part of border search policies the Department of Homeland Security recently disclosed. Also, officials may share copies of the laptop's contents with other agencies and private entities for language translation, data decryption or other reasons, according to the policies, dated July 16 and issued by two DHS agencies, U.S. Customs and Border Protection and U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. ... DHS officials said the newly disclosed policies -- which apply to anyone entering the country, including U.S. citizens -- are reasonable and necessary to prevent terrorism. Officials said such procedures have long been in place but were disclosed last month because of public interest in the matter. ....The policies cover "any device capable of storing information in digital or analog form," including hard drives, flash drives, cellphones, iPods, pagers, beepers, and video and audio tapes. They also cover "all papers and other written documentation," including books, pamphlets and "written materials commonly referred to as 'pocket trash' or 'pocket litter.'"
This sickens me. It sickens me. These people are handing the country over to the forces of darkness. Crap -- they are the forces of darkness. They'd merge quite nicely with the Spanish Inquisition.
Distinguishing
I don't know what's going on with McCain and Obama's ads -- I think McCain's is stupid, which I assume his people are not, and I think Obama's is about race, though he denies it; in both cases, I assume it's an attempt to deflect their opponent's attention to trivialities -- but I learned something this morning, from the LA Times --
Just for a start, industry types say the (McCain) ad is wrong: In the Hollywood lexicon, Obama is not a celebrity. He's a rock star. (Note to McCain strategists: That's the difference between Jessica Simpson and Bono.)
Who would have guessed?
Just for a start, industry types say the (McCain) ad is wrong: In the Hollywood lexicon, Obama is not a celebrity. He's a rock star. (Note to McCain strategists: That's the difference between Jessica Simpson and Bono.)
Who would have guessed?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Dough No!
So here's the deal.
I did not want to buy a five quart lidded but not airtight bucket to store the dough from the Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day (which, so far, is truthful as all hell -- if I spent more than five minutes on putting the dough together, I'll be surprised). I mean, the mixer bowl is a 2 1/2 quart bowl; who needs (or has room for) something twice that size, lurking in the refrigerator? So I cut the recipe in half, and I'm using a tall container to hold the dough that nevertheless fits on the top shelf (just).
This was supposed to be a 2-3 hour rise at room temperature. In the last 90 minutes, this dough has bumped right the hell up, on the order of doubled, easily, probably because I, ahem, did cut the recipe in half except that I forgot to do that with the yeast. So there is a LOT of yeast in there.
Its going through an overnight rise in the refrigerator. It's already taken up 3/4 of that container. The container is not air tight.
I think maybe I'll put a plate under the container....just in case the dough gets a little too ambitious....
I did not want to buy a five quart lidded but not airtight bucket to store the dough from the Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day (which, so far, is truthful as all hell -- if I spent more than five minutes on putting the dough together, I'll be surprised). I mean, the mixer bowl is a 2 1/2 quart bowl; who needs (or has room for) something twice that size, lurking in the refrigerator? So I cut the recipe in half, and I'm using a tall container to hold the dough that nevertheless fits on the top shelf (just).
This was supposed to be a 2-3 hour rise at room temperature. In the last 90 minutes, this dough has bumped right the hell up, on the order of doubled, easily, probably because I, ahem, did cut the recipe in half except that I forgot to do that with the yeast. So there is a LOT of yeast in there.
Its going through an overnight rise in the refrigerator. It's already taken up 3/4 of that container. The container is not air tight.
I think maybe I'll put a plate under the container....just in case the dough gets a little too ambitious....
Philosophy
I don't know how we got on the subject, but this afternoon, on the way to the library, my daughter and I talked about whether hell really exists, and if it does, if its reserved for people who were really, really bad, as differentiated from people who were less foul. She thinks the latter -- otherwise, the truly foul would get the same punishment as the less foul, which hardly seemed how a just and loving God would act. She also mentioned that she thinks what happens to you after you die might be affected by what you believed would happen after you die.
What a kid. Okay, when we got there, she did make me promise that if I ran into her while browsing books, I would not even acknowledge that I knew her (she'd be with a friend), but still -- what a kid.
What a kid. Okay, when we got there, she did make me promise that if I ran into her while browsing books, I would not even acknowledge that I knew her (she'd be with a friend), but still -- what a kid.
Ahem
Exxon Mobil once again reported the largest quarterly profit in US history Thursday, posting net income of $11.68 billion on revenue of $138 billion in the second quarter.
Me Hearties
I wonder if pirates ever actually said that?
I was just reading an article from the LA Times blogs about the extraordinary steps that Warner Brothers took to keep The Dark Knight from being pirated - which apparently didn't mean keeping it from being pirated forever, but simply delaying it by about thirty-six hours. They did this because they feel that piracy cuts into opening day revenues, and allows pre-release slamming of the movie, thus further cutting down revenues. (I suppose it could also increase revenues, as people speak highly of the movie, but the article didn't mention that.) What got my attention, though was a couple of comments in the responses --
LOL, I aint dumping $40+ to take my kid to see some stupid movie. It'll show up online sooner or later! LOL, they always do.
and
I'm sorry, piracy has ZERO effect on how well a movie does on opening weekend. It probably has 7% effect or so on a movies lifetime in a theater and *that's* for movies that suck...look at the demographic of those the pirate for christ sake.
Ah, literacy. (Of course, this level of dialogue would never occur in political discourse...)
I was just reading an article from the LA Times blogs about the extraordinary steps that Warner Brothers took to keep The Dark Knight from being pirated - which apparently didn't mean keeping it from being pirated forever, but simply delaying it by about thirty-six hours. They did this because they feel that piracy cuts into opening day revenues, and allows pre-release slamming of the movie, thus further cutting down revenues. (I suppose it could also increase revenues, as people speak highly of the movie, but the article didn't mention that.) What got my attention, though was a couple of comments in the responses --
LOL, I aint dumping $40+ to take my kid to see some stupid movie. It'll show up online sooner or later! LOL, they always do.
and
I'm sorry, piracy has ZERO effect on how well a movie does on opening weekend. It probably has 7% effect or so on a movies lifetime in a theater and *that's* for movies that suck...look at the demographic of those the pirate for christ sake.
Ah, literacy. (Of course, this level of dialogue would never occur in political discourse...)
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Political Conversations
Sorry for writing so much about politics. Its been on my mind lately.
I think that everyone knows someone who's intense about a subject, and sometimes you learn that you had better not bring up that subject with them -- really, not at all, but if you must, with appropriate prior preparation. A tranquilizer, for example, and a cleared calendar for the next several hours. Its not that you don't want to consult them on the subject, or even just hear their thoughts; its that engaging them on their pet subject goes pretty quickly toward feeling like you've just locked yourself into a cage, and given them the key. Sometimes, its just the duration, coupled with the intensity; other times, its the complexity of what they throw at you. You want to talk about this marvelous book you found about bread, and the next thing you know, they're jabbing a finger at you, telling you how you simply must use a lame -- and not just any lame, but one made in France -- to serrate the bread. And they go on and on and on, while you're still thinking "lame"? La-may? What the hell is that? But you don't ask, because your casual conversation just became an inquisition/dissertation, and you're not having fun at all.
Maybe not all 'serious' conversations should be fun, but I think that when they're not, you lose something key. In my case, I lose the desire to continue. I just wanted to bat some ideas around, not defend western civilization. When my wife and I used to play racquetball, we came up with a concept that we called 'modified volley rules'. They included things like 'whoever is closer to the ball can hit it', 'you can hit it as many times as you have to' , and 'throwing is okay'. Plus, we didn't keep score. We were just doing it for the fun of it. When we would tell real racquetball players about MVR, they'd look aghast at us. How could we possibly play this way? That wasn't real racquetball, it was just batting a ball around and getting sweaty. Which it was. The thing is, that was all we wanted. Just bat the ball around.
I want political conversations that are the same way. I gather that so far as the politics as she is practiced these days crowd, I'm not only out of the loop, I'm in a different paradigm entirely. But I won't change.
I'll just keep quiet, and mutter occasionally.
I think that everyone knows someone who's intense about a subject, and sometimes you learn that you had better not bring up that subject with them -- really, not at all, but if you must, with appropriate prior preparation. A tranquilizer, for example, and a cleared calendar for the next several hours. Its not that you don't want to consult them on the subject, or even just hear their thoughts; its that engaging them on their pet subject goes pretty quickly toward feeling like you've just locked yourself into a cage, and given them the key. Sometimes, its just the duration, coupled with the intensity; other times, its the complexity of what they throw at you. You want to talk about this marvelous book you found about bread, and the next thing you know, they're jabbing a finger at you, telling you how you simply must use a lame -- and not just any lame, but one made in France -- to serrate the bread. And they go on and on and on, while you're still thinking "lame"? La-may? What the hell is that? But you don't ask, because your casual conversation just became an inquisition/dissertation, and you're not having fun at all.
Maybe not all 'serious' conversations should be fun, but I think that when they're not, you lose something key. In my case, I lose the desire to continue. I just wanted to bat some ideas around, not defend western civilization. When my wife and I used to play racquetball, we came up with a concept that we called 'modified volley rules'. They included things like 'whoever is closer to the ball can hit it', 'you can hit it as many times as you have to' , and 'throwing is okay'. Plus, we didn't keep score. We were just doing it for the fun of it. When we would tell real racquetball players about MVR, they'd look aghast at us. How could we possibly play this way? That wasn't real racquetball, it was just batting a ball around and getting sweaty. Which it was. The thing is, that was all we wanted. Just bat the ball around.
I want political conversations that are the same way. I gather that so far as the politics as she is practiced these days crowd, I'm not only out of the loop, I'm in a different paradigm entirely. But I won't change.
I'll just keep quiet, and mutter occasionally.
Political Thought
Would it be okay for Obama to start producing negative attack ads with flashy graphics and well sure its not true but omigod what if it were lies, I mean, conceptual statements? In other words, ads aimed at the short attention span don't make me think crowd? They work for McCain -- that ad of his got a lot of press time because it was so over the top, so flashy, so sure its not true but what if it is. It was a lie, but it was a convincing lie. Big Lies Work. They don't have to work forever, just - long enough.
So -- would it be okay?
No. No. No.
Um..... are we sure about that? Even if it means the election?
So -- would it be okay?
No. No. No.
Um..... are we sure about that? Even if it means the election?
Bread and Circus
Okay, maybe just bread.
Some time ago, I'd read an article about a fellow who'd come up with a way to make decent bread without a great deal of effort. That article turned out to be what bread writers called 'Sullivan Street Bakery Bread'. I tried the technique, and was taken by it. I'm not a bread freak, so I don't need what one author called 'the perfect crust, splintering in your hand, great crumb', all of that. I just want it to taste good. Oh, okay, I'd like it to taste great, but I'm not willing to go through major efforts to get there.
Then I read a different article about another guy who'd come with with a way to make decent bread without a great deal of effort. This guy was a doctor who just liked to make bread, to tinker with recipes. I am not a tinkerer; I find it hard to accept the idea of trying a recipe forty seven times (including, of course, doing the base recipe multiple times to ensure that you have a repeatable result), changing just a little bit each time. I mean, thats a lot of bread, and a lot of time, too. But I guess this doctor had a lot of time, and a willingness to have a lot of bread lying around. He got involved with a woman who was (cue the trumpets) a Culinary Institute of America-trained pastry chef, and who was very good at it. She gave him the theoretical underpinnings he needed to make his bread work, and was quoted at one point as saying something like 'this goes against everything I learned at the CIA. It should not work -- but it does.'
They wrote a book. The local library system has one, count it, one, copy. After making me wait three months, the library hath delivered it unto me. So, if anyone wants a bunch of loaves of dough -- I think, over the next thirteen and one half days (no renewals on this jewel) , I'll be generating some. Stop by.
Oh, and the brownies turned out nicely.
Some time ago, I'd read an article about a fellow who'd come up with a way to make decent bread without a great deal of effort. That article turned out to be what bread writers called 'Sullivan Street Bakery Bread'. I tried the technique, and was taken by it. I'm not a bread freak, so I don't need what one author called 'the perfect crust, splintering in your hand, great crumb', all of that. I just want it to taste good. Oh, okay, I'd like it to taste great, but I'm not willing to go through major efforts to get there.
Then I read a different article about another guy who'd come with with a way to make decent bread without a great deal of effort. This guy was a doctor who just liked to make bread, to tinker with recipes. I am not a tinkerer; I find it hard to accept the idea of trying a recipe forty seven times (including, of course, doing the base recipe multiple times to ensure that you have a repeatable result), changing just a little bit each time. I mean, thats a lot of bread, and a lot of time, too. But I guess this doctor had a lot of time, and a willingness to have a lot of bread lying around. He got involved with a woman who was (cue the trumpets) a Culinary Institute of America-trained pastry chef, and who was very good at it. She gave him the theoretical underpinnings he needed to make his bread work, and was quoted at one point as saying something like 'this goes against everything I learned at the CIA. It should not work -- but it does.'
They wrote a book. The local library system has one, count it, one, copy. After making me wait three months, the library hath delivered it unto me. So, if anyone wants a bunch of loaves of dough -- I think, over the next thirteen and one half days (no renewals on this jewel) , I'll be generating some. Stop by.
Oh, and the brownies turned out nicely.
McCain's Ad
Amazing. Apparently, McCain's given up already. Either that, or he's desperately trying to distract people from his lack of substance and ideas to get us out of this mess. Instead his new ad calls Obama a celebrity, and moans that the media loves Obama too much. Instead of engaging in a debate of ideas, or offering proposals of his own, or just paying attention to issues-- he chooses to snipe and engage in personality-based attack ads. Can the Swift Boaters be far behind?
McCain. He really is Bush III.
===========
Update: I guess I'm too naive. I just got through reading a web page saying that McCain is going negative, which will have a bad effect on how people that he needs will view him -- that he needs to project that he is a man of integrity, one who has plans. And just about all of the comments essentially said 'Obama is too coddled, poor baby' and 'the hell with McCain, he is too old and stupid'. Also, 'why didn't he go see the soldiers, he obviously doesn't care'. Holy hell. If this is the level of political discourse even now --even now -- then I really do expect too much. When anything a candidate does can be spun -- if Obama did go to the hospital , there would have been claims that he is politicizing our soldiers; not going, there are claims that he doesn't care -- then we are really screwed. We don't want intelligence. We don't want thoughtful analysis. We don't want a rational approach. We want a show. We want bread and circuses.
I was starting to think that I've given enough money to Obama's campaign. Obviously not.
McCain. He really is Bush III.
===========
Update: I guess I'm too naive. I just got through reading a web page saying that McCain is going negative, which will have a bad effect on how people that he needs will view him -- that he needs to project that he is a man of integrity, one who has plans. And just about all of the comments essentially said 'Obama is too coddled, poor baby' and 'the hell with McCain, he is too old and stupid'. Also, 'why didn't he go see the soldiers, he obviously doesn't care'. Holy hell. If this is the level of political discourse even now --even now -- then I really do expect too much. When anything a candidate does can be spun -- if Obama did go to the hospital , there would have been claims that he is politicizing our soldiers; not going, there are claims that he doesn't care -- then we are really screwed. We don't want intelligence. We don't want thoughtful analysis. We don't want a rational approach. We want a show. We want bread and circuses.
I was starting to think that I've given enough money to Obama's campaign. Obviously not.
Brownout
I just saw this image on the Mari's New York Brownies page, and now, for some reason, I'm in the mood to bake.
Spectral
I don't believe in ghosts. As it happens, the friend of my daughter does.
We were driving back from their dance class today when my daughter asked if they'd seen ghosts at her house recently. The girl had recently moved into an old house that's not too far from here. I'm not sure how old the house is, exactly, but if I'd had to guess I'd say not more than a hundred years. There are older houses around, you can see them pretty much everyplace. This house doesn't have anything unusual about it, except that apparently it's fairly common for them to see what they swear are ghosts.
The girl says that she was in bed one night when she looked at the foot of the bed and saw a young boy with black hair standing there. She says that she was in a hallway talking with her mother, who was in the bathroom putting on makeup, when they heard footsteps upstairs. They were the only ones in the house. And she says that both she and her sister had independently seen something, or someone, in what looked like a white dress walk past their bedroom door. When they have darted outside to see who it was, there was nobody there.
The house has some history behind it -- apparently there were houses behind it, sort of shacks really, for several years in the 19th century. What's now a relatively open field across the street on them used to be farmland, apparently owned and operated by the people who lived in the house and the shacks. What the relationship is between that and what they say they see, I don't know. And whether they really are seeing something, or this is just suggestion, I don't know, either.
Because, you see, I don't believe in ghosts.
We were driving back from their dance class today when my daughter asked if they'd seen ghosts at her house recently. The girl had recently moved into an old house that's not too far from here. I'm not sure how old the house is, exactly, but if I'd had to guess I'd say not more than a hundred years. There are older houses around, you can see them pretty much everyplace. This house doesn't have anything unusual about it, except that apparently it's fairly common for them to see what they swear are ghosts.
The girl says that she was in bed one night when she looked at the foot of the bed and saw a young boy with black hair standing there. She says that she was in a hallway talking with her mother, who was in the bathroom putting on makeup, when they heard footsteps upstairs. They were the only ones in the house. And she says that both she and her sister had independently seen something, or someone, in what looked like a white dress walk past their bedroom door. When they have darted outside to see who it was, there was nobody there.
The house has some history behind it -- apparently there were houses behind it, sort of shacks really, for several years in the 19th century. What's now a relatively open field across the street on them used to be farmland, apparently owned and operated by the people who lived in the house and the shacks. What the relationship is between that and what they say they see, I don't know. And whether they really are seeing something, or this is just suggestion, I don't know, either.
Because, you see, I don't believe in ghosts.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Mr O and the A Country
That's Obama and Afghanistan. According to Snopes, he didn't blow the GIs there off. I'm sure Rush Limbaugh will be glad to point this out.
FCX
I see the ads for the Honda FCX Clarity fuel cell vehicle, with the tag line "A car that emits no pollution, only clean water vapor", and I remember when the proponents of early nuclear power would say that nuclear power would be both safe and so cheap that it would hardly be worth metering.
Not that I'm against fuel cell vehicles, but -- why don't I believe that "clean water vapor" will be the only effect of the FCX?
Not that I'm against fuel cell vehicles, but -- why don't I believe that "clean water vapor" will be the only effect of the FCX?
Emily
I'm in the midst of a downer mood at the moment. About a week ago, my daughter's guinea pig, Emily, was euthanized.Today, I picked up the small box that had her remains in it.
Now, I don't want to imply that I'm some kind of fanatical pet lover. I like them; my life doesn't revolve around them. When my daughter had just Emily, I thought this is okay. It's not a lot of maintenance, and it is a cute little animal-- palm size, with yellow and white fur. It was about three months before we found out that the animal would actually make sounds. We occasionally heard a high pitch chirp and thought where the heck is that coming from? After a while, we realized it was coming from this small animal, and it meant what animal sounds usually mean -- feed me, pay attention to me.My daughter trained the animal to go up and down the stairs. Unfortunately, we realized that when it went up and down the hall it would also leave little droppings along the way -- but even that wasn't a big deal. We got used to having Emily around.
So when we had to have the animal killed, I wasn't particularly happy about it. My daughter was pretty distraught, too. When they were having discussions with the veterinarian, the concept of having the animal cremated came up, and they agreed. Today, I got to go and pick up the little box. Of course, Emily wasn't particularly big, and neither was the box - brown paper, tightly wrapped. Somehow, it was just like picking up a box at the post office. On the drive home, I looked over at the seat every so often and saw the box just sitting there, pretty much where Emily's cage was when I would take her to the vet.
It was ... a little sad. I could almost hear the chirp.
Now, I don't want to imply that I'm some kind of fanatical pet lover. I like them; my life doesn't revolve around them. When my daughter had just Emily, I thought this is okay. It's not a lot of maintenance, and it is a cute little animal-- palm size, with yellow and white fur. It was about three months before we found out that the animal would actually make sounds. We occasionally heard a high pitch chirp and thought where the heck is that coming from? After a while, we realized it was coming from this small animal, and it meant what animal sounds usually mean -- feed me, pay attention to me.My daughter trained the animal to go up and down the stairs. Unfortunately, we realized that when it went up and down the hall it would also leave little droppings along the way -- but even that wasn't a big deal. We got used to having Emily around.
So when we had to have the animal killed, I wasn't particularly happy about it. My daughter was pretty distraught, too. When they were having discussions with the veterinarian, the concept of having the animal cremated came up, and they agreed. Today, I got to go and pick up the little box. Of course, Emily wasn't particularly big, and neither was the box - brown paper, tightly wrapped. Somehow, it was just like picking up a box at the post office. On the drive home, I looked over at the seat every so often and saw the box just sitting there, pretty much where Emily's cage was when I would take her to the vet.
It was ... a little sad. I could almost hear the chirp.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Drill Bit by Bit
I take it as a given that if we drilled for oil right now, it would not do any good to short-term oil prices in the United States.
Some have said that it wouldn't do any good long term, either, as oil is a global market, and it flows to the highest bidder, but I don't believe that. If I find oil in my back yard, it won't be sold to slake the fuel thirst of the Chinese (although the possibility that the drilling might be done, and the oil owned, by a company with international allegiances does cast that into some doubt).
And although I don't know how long it would take to take a barrel of oil and transform it into gas at the pump, I'm willing to believe that it takes a while -- say, two to five years. If we started right now, we wouldn't see any relief in gas prices for two years -- or whatever the minimum is. Remember, the gas industry is the people who mastered the art of charging at the pump now for increases in the price of oil that's not even out of the ground yet. I can easily see them increasing costs at the pump now on the possibility that they'll have to spend money later. Drilling's not a panacea, and it could even make things worse -- at least, in the short term.
But does that mean we ought not to drill, period? I'm beginning to think that no, it doesn't. Not necessarily.
We should not drill if doing so would mean putting off research and action towards alternative fuel sources. Oh, look, a glass of water -- okay, pour that on the fire, and we'll just put off calling the Fire Department till later. We like short term solutions and cringe at long term ones, so if the promise of increased oil in two to five years would mean less urgency on the research front today, I'd vote against it. On the other hand, not everything can be switched to alternative fuels. Nuclear-powered 747s? Solar powered tugboats? Not likely. We're going to need fuel for them. If it can be supplied or augmented from fuel we control -- good. If not -- well, we'd be no worse off.
I think that we ought to look into drilling. Without fanfare, without raised expections. And, oh yes -- without speculation. I suspect that pretty soon -- within, say, the next two or three years -- we're going to see some serious attention being paid to the way that oil gets into this country. We're going to start treating it the way we treat the phone system -- something that affects our livelihoods and our infrastructure. That can't be left to the viscissitudes and vagaries of the market. I hestitate to say Controlled -- visions of the Soviet Five Year Plans in my head -- but carefully watched, yes.
Otherwise, we could really be screwed.
Some have said that it wouldn't do any good long term, either, as oil is a global market, and it flows to the highest bidder, but I don't believe that. If I find oil in my back yard, it won't be sold to slake the fuel thirst of the Chinese (although the possibility that the drilling might be done, and the oil owned, by a company with international allegiances does cast that into some doubt).
And although I don't know how long it would take to take a barrel of oil and transform it into gas at the pump, I'm willing to believe that it takes a while -- say, two to five years. If we started right now, we wouldn't see any relief in gas prices for two years -- or whatever the minimum is. Remember, the gas industry is the people who mastered the art of charging at the pump now for increases in the price of oil that's not even out of the ground yet. I can easily see them increasing costs at the pump now on the possibility that they'll have to spend money later. Drilling's not a panacea, and it could even make things worse -- at least, in the short term.
But does that mean we ought not to drill, period? I'm beginning to think that no, it doesn't. Not necessarily.
We should not drill if doing so would mean putting off research and action towards alternative fuel sources. Oh, look, a glass of water -- okay, pour that on the fire, and we'll just put off calling the Fire Department till later. We like short term solutions and cringe at long term ones, so if the promise of increased oil in two to five years would mean less urgency on the research front today, I'd vote against it. On the other hand, not everything can be switched to alternative fuels. Nuclear-powered 747s? Solar powered tugboats? Not likely. We're going to need fuel for them. If it can be supplied or augmented from fuel we control -- good. If not -- well, we'd be no worse off.
I think that we ought to look into drilling. Without fanfare, without raised expections. And, oh yes -- without speculation. I suspect that pretty soon -- within, say, the next two or three years -- we're going to see some serious attention being paid to the way that oil gets into this country. We're going to start treating it the way we treat the phone system -- something that affects our livelihoods and our infrastructure. That can't be left to the viscissitudes and vagaries of the market. I hestitate to say Controlled -- visions of the Soviet Five Year Plans in my head -- but carefully watched, yes.
Otherwise, we could really be screwed.
Conservatism in Action
From the ABC News web site:
The gunman who yesterday shot up a Tennessee church that embraced gays and other liberal causes left behind a long letter fuming that he couldn't find a job and expressing a profound "hatred for the liberal movement," police said today. Jim D. Adkisson, 58, ranted that "liberals and gays" taking jobs had prevented him from finding work. He wrote that he expected to keep shooting parishioners until the police showed up and killed him, Knoxville, Tenn., Police Chief Sterling Owen told a news conference.....Owen said Adkisson was also angry that his food stamps were about to be reduced or eliminated.
And which political persuasion do you suppose got him those food stamps?
The gunman who yesterday shot up a Tennessee church that embraced gays and other liberal causes left behind a long letter fuming that he couldn't find a job and expressing a profound "hatred for the liberal movement," police said today. Jim D. Adkisson, 58, ranted that "liberals and gays" taking jobs had prevented him from finding work. He wrote that he expected to keep shooting parishioners until the police showed up and killed him, Knoxville, Tenn., Police Chief Sterling Owen told a news conference.....Owen said Adkisson was also angry that his food stamps were about to be reduced or eliminated.
And which political persuasion do you suppose got him those food stamps?
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Sexy Phrases
Everyone has sexy phrases -- groups of words that appeal to them, that make them light up.
Usually, they're something to do with sex -- lacy, perhaps, or thong, or whipped cream (which I've personally only tried once and thought my, that dries quickly). I'm sure you can think of others. Some, you wouldn't admit to other people; at most, you might edge into it with one other person (unless, of course, the word is orgy; kind of hard to have a two-person one of those. And is it or-gee or org-E? I've never been sure), trying them out to see if they're amenable, whether they'll do it without laughing (..and then you want me to dress up like Minnie Mouse? Um...). A person once mentioned in a blog response elsewhere that she is occasionally interested in a little light BDSM. I'm not too comfortable with that concept (I don't let people get close to me, so the idea of letting them actually control me is unsettling; there's only one other person in the world I trust enough for that). But this person likes it, and I was a little flattered that she was willing to mention it.
There are some phrases that you just don't come across all that often. You might find them attractive, but you can be pretty sure that you're not going to casually run into someone else who also likes it. For example, this one, from a recent Washington Post article: fluid dynamics.
Now, tell me that you don't find that intriguing. The idea of fluid motion, of understanding the method in which the individual units of a given flud combine to form the motion, the surge or trickle, the ebb and flow; applying that concept to traffic flow, or flow around an object, being able to predict where turbulence will occur, where it will be smoother -- good golly. I mean, that's fascinating. Or it would be if I really understood it, which, not being all that competent in math, I don't. But I like the overall concept.
Excellent.
Usually, they're something to do with sex -- lacy, perhaps, or thong, or whipped cream (which I've personally only tried once and thought my, that dries quickly). I'm sure you can think of others. Some, you wouldn't admit to other people; at most, you might edge into it with one other person (unless, of course, the word is orgy; kind of hard to have a two-person one of those. And is it or-gee or org-E? I've never been sure), trying them out to see if they're amenable, whether they'll do it without laughing (..and then you want me to dress up like Minnie Mouse? Um...). A person once mentioned in a blog response elsewhere that she is occasionally interested in a little light BDSM. I'm not too comfortable with that concept (I don't let people get close to me, so the idea of letting them actually control me is unsettling; there's only one other person in the world I trust enough for that). But this person likes it, and I was a little flattered that she was willing to mention it.
There are some phrases that you just don't come across all that often. You might find them attractive, but you can be pretty sure that you're not going to casually run into someone else who also likes it. For example, this one, from a recent Washington Post article: fluid dynamics.
Now, tell me that you don't find that intriguing. The idea of fluid motion, of understanding the method in which the individual units of a given flud combine to form the motion, the surge or trickle, the ebb and flow; applying that concept to traffic flow, or flow around an object, being able to predict where turbulence will occur, where it will be smoother -- good golly. I mean, that's fascinating. Or it would be if I really understood it, which, not being all that competent in math, I don't. But I like the overall concept.
Excellent.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
The Book of O
From the Times Online site:
And it came to pass, in the eighth year of the reign of the evil Bush the Younger (The Ignorant), when the whole land from the Arabian desert to the shores of the Great Lakes had been laid barren, that a Child appeared in the wilderness. The Child was blessed in looks and intellect. Scion of a simple family, offspring of a miraculous union, grandson of a typical white person and an African peasant. And yea, as he grew, the Child walked in the path of righteousness, with only the occasional detour into the odd weed and a little blow. When he was twelve years old, they found him in the temple in the City of Chicago, arguing the finer points of community organisation with the Prophet Jeremiah and the Elders. And the Elders were astonished at what they heard and said among themselves: "Verily, who is this Child that he opens our hearts and minds to the audacity of hope?" In the great Battles of Caucus and Primary he smote the conniving Hillary, wife of the deposed King Bill the Priapic and their barbarian hordes of Working Class Whites. And so it was, in the fullness of time, before the harvest month of the appointed year, the Child ventured forth - for the first time - to bring the light unto all the world. He travelled fleet of foot and light of camel, with a small retinue that consisted only of his loyal disciples from the tribe of the Media...
(More at the Times Online)
Sorry, L.
And it came to pass, in the eighth year of the reign of the evil Bush the Younger (The Ignorant), when the whole land from the Arabian desert to the shores of the Great Lakes had been laid barren, that a Child appeared in the wilderness. The Child was blessed in looks and intellect. Scion of a simple family, offspring of a miraculous union, grandson of a typical white person and an African peasant. And yea, as he grew, the Child walked in the path of righteousness, with only the occasional detour into the odd weed and a little blow. When he was twelve years old, they found him in the temple in the City of Chicago, arguing the finer points of community organisation with the Prophet Jeremiah and the Elders. And the Elders were astonished at what they heard and said among themselves: "Verily, who is this Child that he opens our hearts and minds to the audacity of hope?" In the great Battles of Caucus and Primary he smote the conniving Hillary, wife of the deposed King Bill the Priapic and their barbarian hordes of Working Class Whites. And so it was, in the fullness of time, before the harvest month of the appointed year, the Child ventured forth - for the first time - to bring the light unto all the world. He travelled fleet of foot and light of camel, with a small retinue that consisted only of his loyal disciples from the tribe of the Media...
(More at the Times Online)
Sorry, L.
Email Fun
I found this at the GeekSugar site.
Did you know the periods in your gmail address don't mean a thing? That's right, if you signed up as geek.sugar@gmail.com, you'd still get emails sent to geeksugar@gmail.com. You'll even get emails sent to g.e.e.k.s.u.g.a.r@gmail.com, for the wiseacres in your family. Ooh, and anything sent to "googlemail" instead of "gmail." Honestly, it's the little things that blow my mind (and btw, none of the above email addresses belong to us!).
Did you know the periods in your gmail address don't mean a thing? That's right, if you signed up as geek.sugar@gmail.com, you'd still get emails sent to geeksugar@gmail.com. You'll even get emails sent to g.e.e.k.s.u.g.a.r@gmail.com, for the wiseacres in your family. Ooh, and anything sent to "googlemail" instead of "gmail." Honestly, it's the little things that blow my mind (and btw, none of the above email addresses belong to us!).
More usefully, you can add a plus sign to the end of your address, and then you can set up a folders in your email that coordinate with that. For instance, say you open an online account with WellsFargo. When you sign up, give your email address as "geeksugar+banking@gmail.com", then in Settings, set up a filter. In the From box, add in WellsFargo or your chosen bank, in the To box, put in your newly-created geeksugar+banking@gmail.com address, and the set the filter to put in a folder titled "banking." You can also use this technique when you sign up for something and send their emails to you directly to the trash!
Playah
KMPlayer -- written up at the Freeware Genius site - seems to be a pretty nifty multi-media player -- and, like VLC, it's free.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Interesting Evening
For one, we went out for ice cream, which we don't do all that often. Nothing special (not that around here much is!), just down to a free-standing building in the next town, but it was fun. We sat near a family with two young Chinese daughters (who were, of course, cute as the dickens). I had a strawberry ice cream in a waffle cone; my wife had chocolate and banana in a cup. It was pleasant.
Not so pleasant was an article I read about people's reactions to Obama's European tour. I continue to be surprised at how much people who don't like him, don't like him. Its not a mild 'well, gosh, there are things I like about him, and things I don't like'; its more 'dammit, there are things I don't like, and things I really don't like'. These are sometimes the idiots, I guess I ought to say misinformed, who still think he's a Muslim out to take over the country; those folks, I don't listen to, because short of the heavens opening and a thunderbolt slicing across their foreheads, nothing's going to change their mind. He could be sworn in, serve eight years, reduce the debt, solve the problems of Iraq and Afghanistan, and have bin Laden's head on a post, and these people would still go all squinty-eyed at the thought of this guy in that House.
No, these seem to be pretty normal people who just don't trust him. Some of them think he's nice enough but just doesn't have enough experience. Some don't believe he means what he says; other times, they believe he means it, but don't believe he can do it. And of course, some don't like what he proposes, hope he can't do it, and feel that the best way for that to happen is for him not to be elected. Very few seem to prefer McCain; they just don't like either of the candidates, and he's the one they dislike more. It's depressing. I think it comes down to believing. I wish I had a candidate with his attitudes, his values, and more experience, but I don't see one; for sure, its not McCain, who really is Bush reincarnate (not entirely, but substantially). But since I can't get the candidate I want, this is the candidate I choose. As as for the people who just don't like him -- well. Its a little late to be saying they want someone else, though I hear Bob Barr and Ralph Nader are available.
Perhaps some differences of opinion require greater skill than my own to resolve.
My wife will have to work this Sunday, for about eight hours, supporting some system upgrades. I've told her that I do occasionally think that I'd like to go back to work, partially because I'd like to buttress our financial position, and partially because I miss being a techie. I force myself to remember how dull work can be (tech stuff, no -- that I like. The stuff that surrounds it -- meetings, standards, audits, dress codes -- that, pretty grim.) I also have to remember that working means that you don't get to take a nap at 1:30 for a couple of hours, which I've gotten used to doing. You don't get to say that you're going to take the morning to mess around with baking. And you don't get to stay up late reading and just sleep in, tomorrow. You work. Put that way, its a lot less appealing.
On the bright side, dinner today was good, I'm about half way through Eclipse, and I'm thinking about doing some baking this weekend. I saw this page about, omigod, Chocolate Chip Cookies.....
Not so pleasant was an article I read about people's reactions to Obama's European tour. I continue to be surprised at how much people who don't like him, don't like him. Its not a mild 'well, gosh, there are things I like about him, and things I don't like'; its more 'dammit, there are things I don't like, and things I really don't like'. These are sometimes the idiots, I guess I ought to say misinformed, who still think he's a Muslim out to take over the country; those folks, I don't listen to, because short of the heavens opening and a thunderbolt slicing across their foreheads, nothing's going to change their mind. He could be sworn in, serve eight years, reduce the debt, solve the problems of Iraq and Afghanistan, and have bin Laden's head on a post, and these people would still go all squinty-eyed at the thought of this guy in that House.
No, these seem to be pretty normal people who just don't trust him. Some of them think he's nice enough but just doesn't have enough experience. Some don't believe he means what he says; other times, they believe he means it, but don't believe he can do it. And of course, some don't like what he proposes, hope he can't do it, and feel that the best way for that to happen is for him not to be elected. Very few seem to prefer McCain; they just don't like either of the candidates, and he's the one they dislike more. It's depressing. I think it comes down to believing. I wish I had a candidate with his attitudes, his values, and more experience, but I don't see one; for sure, its not McCain, who really is Bush reincarnate (not entirely, but substantially). But since I can't get the candidate I want, this is the candidate I choose. As as for the people who just don't like him -- well. Its a little late to be saying they want someone else, though I hear Bob Barr and Ralph Nader are available.
Perhaps some differences of opinion require greater skill than my own to resolve.
My wife will have to work this Sunday, for about eight hours, supporting some system upgrades. I've told her that I do occasionally think that I'd like to go back to work, partially because I'd like to buttress our financial position, and partially because I miss being a techie. I force myself to remember how dull work can be (tech stuff, no -- that I like. The stuff that surrounds it -- meetings, standards, audits, dress codes -- that, pretty grim.) I also have to remember that working means that you don't get to take a nap at 1:30 for a couple of hours, which I've gotten used to doing. You don't get to say that you're going to take the morning to mess around with baking. And you don't get to stay up late reading and just sleep in, tomorrow. You work. Put that way, its a lot less appealing.
On the bright side, dinner today was good, I'm about half way through Eclipse, and I'm thinking about doing some baking this weekend. I saw this page about, omigod, Chocolate Chip Cookies.....
Asking for Help with Kids
There's a short piece -- actually, readers letters -- in the Christian Science Monitor web site on the subject of helping kids, or helping other people with their kids, when they clearly need it. The writers make the same basic points as have been addressed before -- afraid of being charged a pervert for wanting to help with a small child; unwillingness to get involved; the attitude of entitlement that makes helping seem the act of a fool. One person refers to the attitude of suspicion and distrust towards the volunteer as 'stink eye', which I think remarkably descriptive. It's interesting reading.
Tuna? Tuna
We had this for dinner tonight. I don't care for fish, but this was actually not that bad. The spicy mustard helped.
4 tuna Steaks (or any grillable fish),3/4 -1" thick
Cajun seasoning for meat or fish (I use either one)
Olive oil spray
2 tsp of mustard (Choose your favorite,Grey Poupon, horseradish mustard, or my favorite - hot mustard, or other)
4 handfuls of salad greens
2 large, ripe tomatoes cut into slices
Olive oil for drizzling
1 Tbl of balsamic vinegar
Optional: blackberries (or other berries) for color and variety
Spray both sides of the tuna steaks, liberally, with olive oil spray.
Dust them with the Cajun seasoning to taste.
Set aside so the flavors sink in.
While the flavors meld, take out your dinner plates.
In a medium bowl, toss your greens with a light drizzle of olive oil and just a hint of salt.
(The salt actually enhances the flavor of the olive oil and greens).
Place a portion of greens in the middle of each plate.
Divide your tomato slices into 4 portions and fan them around one side of the greens.
Spread them wide to cover half of the plate edge.
Drizzle with olive oil.
Season with pepper and drizzle bits of balsamic vinegar on the tomatoes.
Heat your grill or grill pan.
Place the tuna steaks on the grate and grill on medium for 3 minutes. Don't move them. This will give you nice grill marks.
Carefully flip them over and grill 3 more minutes. This will finish the fish at medium.
If you like your tuna more rare in the middle cut back the cooking time when you flip the fish over. The gauge I use is 7 minutes per inch of thickness to grill fish to medium. Just keep in mind that it keeps cooking after you take it off the heat.
Remove the fish from the grill and place the fish steaks in the middle of the greens.
The hot fish will "wilt" the greens and make a nice warm salad.
While the fish is still very warm smear a half teaspoon of mustard across the top of each piece.
The mustard will melt and make a sort of glaze.
Scatter your berries around the greens and you're ready to eat.
For another side, spray olive oil on asparagus spears and grill them along with your fish.
You'll have a gourmet meal fit for company.
Grilled Cajun Tuna Steaks with a Mustard Smear and Tomato Salad
4 tuna Steaks (or any grillable fish),3/4 -1" thick
Cajun seasoning for meat or fish (I use either one)
Olive oil spray
2 tsp of mustard (Choose your favorite,Grey Poupon, horseradish mustard, or my favorite - hot mustard, or other)
4 handfuls of salad greens
2 large, ripe tomatoes cut into slices
Olive oil for drizzling
1 Tbl of balsamic vinegar
Optional: blackberries (or other berries) for color and variety
Spray both sides of the tuna steaks, liberally, with olive oil spray.
Dust them with the Cajun seasoning to taste.
Set aside so the flavors sink in.
While the flavors meld, take out your dinner plates.
In a medium bowl, toss your greens with a light drizzle of olive oil and just a hint of salt.
(The salt actually enhances the flavor of the olive oil and greens).
Place a portion of greens in the middle of each plate.
Divide your tomato slices into 4 portions and fan them around one side of the greens.
Spread them wide to cover half of the plate edge.
Drizzle with olive oil.
Season with pepper and drizzle bits of balsamic vinegar on the tomatoes.
Heat your grill or grill pan.
Place the tuna steaks on the grate and grill on medium for 3 minutes. Don't move them. This will give you nice grill marks.
Carefully flip them over and grill 3 more minutes. This will finish the fish at medium.
If you like your tuna more rare in the middle cut back the cooking time when you flip the fish over. The gauge I use is 7 minutes per inch of thickness to grill fish to medium. Just keep in mind that it keeps cooking after you take it off the heat.
Remove the fish from the grill and place the fish steaks in the middle of the greens.
The hot fish will "wilt" the greens and make a nice warm salad.
While the fish is still very warm smear a half teaspoon of mustard across the top of each piece.
The mustard will melt and make a sort of glaze.
Scatter your berries around the greens and you're ready to eat.
For another side, spray olive oil on asparagus spears and grill them along with your fish.
You'll have a gourmet meal fit for company.
Barack's Birthday
As a device to foster local support, and to encourage the merger of Clan Obama and Team Hillary, a person in my area is going to hold a 'Barack's Birthday' celebration, with picnic fair and, of course, birthday cake. (Perhaps I'll bake one -- you can never have too much cake, you know.) It got me to thinking -- gee, what if, once he's elected, he proposed that the birthday of the reigning president be a federal holiday, with cake and such available at all federal offices. Wouldn't that be cool? And then I thought a) like we need another federal holiday, and b) if Bush suggested it, what would I think of the move?
Still would be fun, though.
Still would be fun, though.
To Prevent Paedophilia
I fear that parts of Britain are losing their official mind. It'd be funny, were not there people in the US who'd say Damn Good Idea!
MSearch
Windows Search 4.0, a freebie from Microsoft, looks remarkably like Google Search. Not perfect, but better than vanilla Windows search.
Plus ca change.....
From a site with color photographs of the United States in the 1930s....
But the emerging airlines were already flying four-engine Boeing Stratoliners out of Chicago Midway for those wealthy enough to fly.
"Wealthy enough to fly." How things have changed....and are going to change back, I bet.
But the emerging airlines were already flying four-engine Boeing Stratoliners out of Chicago Midway for those wealthy enough to fly.
"Wealthy enough to fly." How things have changed....and are going to change back, I bet.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Late Night
Well, perhaps not that late...but late enough.
Fruitful day. My wife took my mother to a visit with a doctor (why do we call it 'doctor visit'? What's the nurse, chopped liver?) at which he substantially changed her meds. We still don't know why she gets out of breath so quickly. But she liked this doc, mostly because he spent a lot of time talking to her, so that was good.
We took a bike ride. After the initial trepidation about getting on the bike -- I did a lot of stretching beforehand, which helped, I think -- we went around one of the local neighborhoods for about half an hour. I may try it solo -- if I'm gutsy. Odd -- I never used to think of riding a bike as a death-defying event.
I'm still losing weight, though not as fast. In the four days that I've been tracking it, I've lost about six pounds, which puts me about a third of the way to where I want to be. I am watching what I eat, but overall that just means noting it -- I'm pretty much eating as I did before. But, okay, I didn't get any Ring Dings, last time I went to the store. I admit it -- I don't want to jinx this progress.
I'm about a third of the way through Eclipse, and halfway through The Engines of God. The whole vampires and werewolves thing is starting to drag, just a bit. I'd like to see something happen to spice up the book a bit -- though the malicious vampire who flits in and out might fit that bill. I can't decide if the series will end with the heroine becoming one or not. I'm betting not.
Obama's saying smart things, which aren't always the politically sound things. Good that he's better at figuring this stuff than me.
And thats it for now.
Fruitful day. My wife took my mother to a visit with a doctor (why do we call it 'doctor visit'? What's the nurse, chopped liver?) at which he substantially changed her meds. We still don't know why she gets out of breath so quickly. But she liked this doc, mostly because he spent a lot of time talking to her, so that was good.
We took a bike ride. After the initial trepidation about getting on the bike -- I did a lot of stretching beforehand, which helped, I think -- we went around one of the local neighborhoods for about half an hour. I may try it solo -- if I'm gutsy. Odd -- I never used to think of riding a bike as a death-defying event.
I'm still losing weight, though not as fast. In the four days that I've been tracking it, I've lost about six pounds, which puts me about a third of the way to where I want to be. I am watching what I eat, but overall that just means noting it -- I'm pretty much eating as I did before. But, okay, I didn't get any Ring Dings, last time I went to the store. I admit it -- I don't want to jinx this progress.
I'm about a third of the way through Eclipse, and halfway through The Engines of God. The whole vampires and werewolves thing is starting to drag, just a bit. I'd like to see something happen to spice up the book a bit -- though the malicious vampire who flits in and out might fit that bill. I can't decide if the series will end with the heroine becoming one or not. I'm betting not.
Obama's saying smart things, which aren't always the politically sound things. Good that he's better at figuring this stuff than me.
And thats it for now.
Mr. Destructo
One of the things I learned a lot time ago is that I'm not particularly good with my hands. I proved it again tonight when I tried to glue on a switch for one of the two bike transceivers that we occasionally use when we go out (which we did tonight, amazingly enough). The gluing on of the switch worked okay...it was the glue then dripping down inside the case and welding the little push to talk switch shut that did me in. The other radio still works... for whatever good that does. Groan.
So now I'm thinking, wouldn't it be nice to have a bike headset that could do it all. Plug into a voice actuated or PTT FM transceiver for use with the bike. Accept input from an MP3 player. Connect to the phone. Wouldn't that be nice?
And expensive?
So now I'm thinking, wouldn't it be nice to have a bike headset that could do it all. Plug into a voice actuated or PTT FM transceiver for use with the bike. Accept input from an MP3 player. Connect to the phone. Wouldn't that be nice?
And expensive?
Guarded
This afternoon, I drove my daughter and an associate to their color guard practice. On the way, the other girl was complaining about guard, saying that she wanted to drop it but her father wouldn't let her. My daughter perked up and said 'Thats one thing I like about my dad. He says that whenever I want, I can quit.'
Does Medicare Know About This? Or Care?
Doctor, to my mother: Why did you have a CAT scan done?
Mother: Because your office said I had to get one.
Doctor: Don't understand that. You didn't need one.
Mother: Because your office said I had to get one.
Doctor: Don't understand that. You didn't need one.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Compulsions
I found this on the Divine Caroline site, written by a woman who's a writer. I could not have said it better.
(T)his drive to write has got me thinking—if a person feels this strong obligation towards anything, shouldn’t that define his or her career path? Can the key to career success be to do what you absolutely can’t go without doing? Doctors are driven by medicine and science; they can’t imagine doing anything else. A passion that comes from within; you cannot teach it, recreate it, or fake it.
Thats the compulsion that I always thought I was supposed to have about my job, and never did. Even now, I don't have it, about anything. Those articles that say to 'find your passion'? Passed me right by. I'd wonder if I'm too casual, but most of the people I know are like that. Are there passionate people, these days?
(T)his drive to write has got me thinking—if a person feels this strong obligation towards anything, shouldn’t that define his or her career path? Can the key to career success be to do what you absolutely can’t go without doing? Doctors are driven by medicine and science; they can’t imagine doing anything else. A passion that comes from within; you cannot teach it, recreate it, or fake it.
Thats the compulsion that I always thought I was supposed to have about my job, and never did. Even now, I don't have it, about anything. Those articles that say to 'find your passion'? Passed me right by. I'd wonder if I'm too casual, but most of the people I know are like that. Are there passionate people, these days?
Steers
Wonder if these folks are part of the Hooters chain? As it aired during a rugby tournament (Give Blood -- Play Rugby!), I imagine it's a British firm....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)