Greetings, Imaginary Reader. I think it is time for me to resume this blog-critter in some method of therapy. There are many thoughts swirling about, and getting them out of my head might be helpful.
Well, maybe to you too, but as a friend once said, this is all about me, me, me. She may’ve aptly summed up the purpose of the internet, certainly the theme that enabled its start: symmetry of publication made nerds want to be heard.
I shall enable comments in some form, perhaps, though those who know the author are free to make with emailed suggestions. The rest shall momentarily suffer in silent frustrations, with my sympathy. In the meantime, this insignificant announcement, and a photo of the plaque at the entrance to the bird-free poultry barn at the State Fair.
I was reading about WWI chemical munitions washing up on our shores, and it occurs to me just how the electorate’s mindset is influenced by the meme of “fairy dust.” We create tension with another nation, we sprinkle fairy dust on them and they go away. We create enviro problems, we sprinkle fairy dust (on the previous fairy dust no longer needed) and it goes away.
The issue with this “magical thinking” (did I use the term correctly?) is that it’s wrong in a profound way. There is no magic solution to anything, every problem takes work. The law of unintended consequences guarantees this. What we need is a cultural meme for weeding a garden. The solution here is simply mechanical, we either wait for the weeds to grow, then pluck them, or we plant the desirable species in a manner that regular investments of energy render the places for weeds unusable by those undesirable species. Either way, we ingrain the idea that it is constant work to manage change, not sudden and large investments of energy and time that make the problem go away. The success-rate with problematic asteroids would be much higher with this attitude. The next legislator who talks about nuking this (or any) problem should consider farming as rehabilitative trade. And therein my reference to both Mao and Pot. Sorry, but maybe vastly gentled down, they might’ve been onto something.
Took off this morning with the intent of getting to Rochester, but only made about 70 miles of the 120 mi round trip. A nice ride, made me want to address this clutch problem so I bought a cable on eBay. The reason I’ve lost my certainty that it’s actually the clutch is because the function under hard use doesn’t materially change. No clutch disc failure I’ve ever encountered doesn’t vary with load and temp. When I do “hill launches” in my local parking ramp, it doesn’t get grabbier or looser. And since it is actuated by a cable that is 6000 miles old, there might be a little stretch-problem. Too bad they don’t make these cables like they do the shifter-cables on bicycles: wow! Those things are unbelievably stiff in both tension and compression. $25 seems a good investment. Although hand grips are seriously needed too: the tinglies after this ride were almost as bad as the helmet-pains. Just have to get the hat seated right at the start. Might be time for a haircut (Yes, it does make a difference, believe it or not). Rain for a couple of days, then the next riding days will be much cooler. Digging out the wind-pants now. Not designed for motorcycling, don’t match anything, but I think they’ll work, esp. if I can get some elasto-velcro sraps. More moto news than I intended, but if this is to become a habit, it must become habitual.
Remarks from 2013: A helmet that fits (2xl Arai Profile), and a German moto that's sewing-machine smooth have put light-years from the experiences related above. Suffering new clutch-problems simply makes me think how much remains unchanged amidst the hurricane.
Well how-dee-do, dear reader, thanks for getting really lost. The power of this doo-dad is that it takes very little for anyone to publish—that is, to make publicly available. That low bar explains the writing quality, and the wide variety of stuff simply left out there. The other power is that of integration. Yeah, I use froot puters,* even their lousy phone, because the integration is so tight. Well, not quite up to Newton standards on the PDA yet, but as close as I’m going to get AND remain relatively harm-free in my browsing. The Pain comes in at the integration’s gaps, where we get pinched by the little boo-boos. For example, the program that resides on my machine and composes this inordinately complex site is a pain to start up. It is just enough of a pain that it impedes my noting all my innermost thoughts, or recent discoveries. The latter might be helpful, since linking helps ranking (not as much as money). For example, why are the higher-standard motorcycle helmets undesirable? Read a great, and ultimately convincing review of why, and why that higher rating is a must-have for manufacturers, even though we the users are at-risk. Or how do you get VNC to work on Ubuntu (jaunty) with an NVidia card? Again, not my original work, but you might need it, or benefit from my linking to it. And yet, I gotta make time to fire this thing up, get here, start with the yadda yadda... And so, no go. But I’ll put this frustrating page up, you can email me your complaint. And for goodness’ sake, if you cannot figure out how to do THAT after getting here...you should be getting back to 1988 where you came from. Arthur: Ah. Abuse. Marvin: Yes. (Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy)
Greetings invisible audience, and thanks for tuning in. It has been an exciting, and fun filled time. Let’s recap the last 60 days’ highlights:
K’s continuing battle with cancer (month 2)
Teen fights with K, teen moves in with me
Self + teen find and move into apartment
Brother-closest-in-age develops colon cancer
The oft-missed SES gently remakes contact, which self blunders so badly I’m embarrassed even to admit it to the invisible audience
SES does offer two pieces of advice on the way back to non-contact that are a reminder that everyone’s contributions exceed their shortcomings.
Work on the teen’s education, medication; everything else will follow.
Act on the old wish to get a motorcycle: it’s therapeutic.
Motorcycle lessons passed, MC acquired, two-wheeled therapy begins.
But today’s write is more about the dating process. How is it I could meet S, and later J, and then never anyone like them again? Yes, mayhaps a little fire is still carried, dear reader, but nothing that could warm a cup of tea. More like just a chance to see a movie with an intimate friend. Someone to bitch to about lousy luck. Shitty days. Cheer the successes on the bike, and point out that the flubbed shifts are not the bike’s fault.
Ok, I’m reactivating my twitter persona, pointing it here. I figure with Conficker and all the other scams out there, no one will probably follow this URL. But you can’t say that even in a backhanded way, I’m not trying this interwebs stuff. Frankly, however, I think it’s all a lot of tubes, and I’m a plumber.
As we near the day of April’s Foolishness (What will XRT do this year?) many things have happened. My friend K does chemical battle with errant groups of cells, her first was last Friday. She says she feels like she has the flu, not crippling, but not going to be standing in front of her classroom all day. She asked me if I happen by Fleet Farm, can I find some boots “suitable for motorcycle riding.” You bet your ass I will, if I have to kill and skin the cow myself: it is so cool that her new beau has a motorcycle! What perfection, I cannot be happier. (Well, and jealous in only the most supportive way: why can’t I find the feminine eqv. of W* here in the land of lakes?) His 15 minutes are up, the best thing we can do to him is utterly forget his existence and clean up the mess.
The Most Wonderful Daughter is staying with me during Spring Break 09. We’re off to a slowish start, but I expect hell to be raised soon. We bought her some pants, which increases her total by 25%. How can someone have 152,432 tops and 4—now 5—pants? I’m trying to encourage the teen to join me at the aforementioned F-F to purchase junky, crappy jeans to deal with possible tree-felling later in the week. If the Snowpacalypse doesn’t impair us.
And the death of a good friend has had me thinking of mortality with K’s condition driving it right home. I wish I had serious thoughts. I was so shocked to find an attractive, intelligent, and nerdy woman who stunned me with a nondemoninational belief expressed when I confessed of D’s death, of his soul going ahead of us.
Alas, dear reader, I’ve abandoned hope of this leading anywhere. Am I such an intellectual snob that while I will die to defend the beliefs I do not share, I will not share my life with them? Is it so much to ask for intellectual consistency? That when someone’s worldview approaches the dark, it says “Ok, that’s dark.” Instead of positing some imaginary explanation? Ok, I guess I am. Apologies for those offended, but I do truly offer this: if there’s a defense of this happening right now, let me know. I’m inexperienced but well-read at violence for a cause, and I will lead the charge. Yes, I will die for those I consider less smart.
*I am officially scouring all memetic traces of W. He turned out to be a real abusive bastard.
Contextual Note (Nov 09): This blog has been migrated AGAIN since this entry was written. Greetings Gentle Reader, I’ve now manually pasted all the content from the previous incarnation of this site into this one. You—and there’s only 2 of us—that could tell, can’t tell. The previous version met its demise when I’d used it as a forum to ponder questions about my relationship with SES, and to discover she’d read them and was upset. Why ponder, when she was sitting right there: just ask.
So I tore the site down, it wasn’t visible to anyone (you’re not even here reading this, who’d find THAT link?!) but I’d told someone very important to me about it, and I’d used it unwisely. Will I tell family and friends? Will I tell SES? Will I assume that she might stumble across here? All good questions. I think it would be an interesting device to write to a real person who wishes no further contact with me.
But perhaps writing to an eponymous reader would be better. But why resurrect it at all? With some rapid lessons learned in affairs of the heart, the real reason lies with the ex. With her diagnosis of S4 breast cancer, and creation of her own blog, I thought I might scribble down some notes. I’ve been interested in leaving some info for my daughter, and this may server as both the storage-means and future-proof whatever might be of value to her. And so it rises again. Your comments welcome, your reading is appreciated.
Ok it’s official: “Beowulf” must suck, because the trailers currently on the tube include the monster. Arguably, the teases of Angelina & tail are a close second, but once they released trailers (post-opening) of the monster, I think Mgmt was scared. I look at this movie and say “Who the hell wants to pay $10 to watch a GAME?” What was Zemeckis THINKING? Then it has occurred to me that we have SO lowered our standards of media-quality, that why not? Machinima will be in the Oscars next year, and will win within 5. You heard it here first, folks. I’d say MP3’s were first, but really, cassettes started it. The acceptance of lower quality for greater convenience has been a trend. Friends, I wear hearing aids, and even I can tell the difference between an average MP3, a really GOOD MP3, and a fucking excellent analog recording. I even have had the pleasures of listening to content right off the world’s first (production) digital recorder into what was then one of the best sound systems in a theater, and let me tell you: we’re paying 99 cents for barely-above-crap and loving it. Oh, I’m guilty, I love my portable Library of Congress of music. And “digital” cable? Or DTV? I can see the compression artifacts in almost everything. The trend toward LCD’s isn’t just cuz they’re flat: it’s because their low response time hides the MPEG clots, and poor contrast-ratio buries the loss in the compression. No one even notices!!! BluRay vs HDVD? Oh please, give me T-grain Kodak. Which will soon be gone, unless HP buys them AND decides to preserve the chemical engineers’ jobs. Two unlikely outcomes together. Sorry to be pissed, dear reader. I’m just tired of being fed crap and told it’s truffles.
Problems in the Oak Parkment: the 3 PCs are suffering various ailments at the hands of constant use but inconstant care. I need to make a weekend there to clean things up. Looks like the WiFi bit the farm too, or at least, the daughter’s laptop cannot reach it. So to ponder the big picture. Repair, clean, reinstall XP (no discs from HP) as a long, sleepless weekend for a temporary gain of...weeks? Months? Or do I Mac-in-tize them both? I do not relish taking on 30% more debt for them both. And there’s the inevitable transition. The offspring will of course poo-poo this as a formal project, but will be worn down by the inefficiencies of DIY. So I’m left with an uncertain outcome to an ill-defined problem with a very urgent requirement. Wonder if I can hire a nerd locally? Smart hands for the people? (Current employer uses IBM Global Services; prev. employer used Covad—for connection issues. Too bad I can’t afford them...)
