The Basement in the Attic

My random meanderings on lived experiences & the thoughts they generate.

categories:

  • “cars”

I heard an ad this morning for a company we're all familiar with. Only now they claim that they're building the infrastructure for the “hydrogen economy.”

Raise your hands, how many of you think you're local transportation-fuel retailer (once called “gas stations” the moniker will take on new meaning) will be able to stay in business with 1% of it coming from Hydrogen? Handling a fuel trickier than gasoline, which is the most dangerous mass-marketed commodity, including land-mines and LNG.

Another show of hands, how many think that underground storage tanks for hydrogen will be LESS THAN twice the size of the gasoline/diesel tanks currently buried under that distributor's property? I'm guessing that to handle weekly tanker trucks, we'll either be seeing QUADRUPLE sized tanks, or hydrogen-slush. And we all know how far NASA got with H2-slushies. I'm sure the private sector will solve all those problems Right Now ™.

Final audience participation: How many think hydrogen as a transportation fuel is the stupidest thing since the SUV?

This last was a trick question, since the MIT report. Their conclusion was that after all of the societal costs for hydrogen as a transportation fuel are added up, all of the benefits are lost. That's right, no greeniness to the plan at all.

They go on to point out that diesel-hybrids would do FAR MORE benefit immediately than any pie-in-the-sky H2 plan.

Here's the thing, I love H2 as a fuel. I've been a fan since the 70's. I'm also a fan of electric vehicles. And I think a fuel-cell is the neatest bit of chemistry out there. And I will happily throw out my 1st edition of “Limits to Growth” if it'll get us off these unreasonable objectives and onto CHANGE. NOW.

Look, ask Ben Stein about retirement planning. The absolutely critical thing is to start saving NOW. Get something started today. The pimply-faced fry-cook at his McJob or the new junior extortionist at the mutual-fund. Get a plan, put stuff away right now, every minute's delay costs MONTHS at the other end.

Carbon-sequestration is the same way. Every minute we allow these Monstergators to run along on gasoline is a month cut-off at the “other end.” And I'm really, REALLY worried about the other end. Unlike George Carlin, I do NOT think it's hubris to consider that we might destroy the planet.

So, let's calm down. I will let them keep their four-wheel-drive, 9000lb single-seat commuter-vehicles as long as they agree it must be powered by a nice diesel-hybrid drive. (Fully parallel, of course.)

In exchange for their cooperation, I will give them a $2000 tax break. Equal or greater drivability. Quieter, to listen to their loud music. Lower maintenance costs. Heck, I'll even let them emblazon this ridiculous-mobile with the elliptical green “E” from the green movement of the 70's. Peace, man.

See? I can be a reasonable idiot.

Now, I have this plan for selling hopped-up motor-controllers for the aftermarket...

categories:

  • “computers”

Fear My Tech 18 Nov 2003

First off, let me confess to becoming a modernist. I studied Architecture when some guy named Michael Graves was getting attention. (Didn't he design a house for his mother in Riverside?) Tom Wolfe wrote a tiny book called “From Bauhaus to Our House” and I lived every cynical criticism of the modernists.

No longer, as the world gets crazier, all I can dream of is sitting in a room Eero Saarinen would have designed and staring at the trees outside. (I almost broke my neck the night I walked into the TWA terminal at Dulles, I unabashedly gawked.)

Ok, so with that in mind, you might be guessing that I've been using fruit-computers for a long time. When my brother poo-poo'd the gui as a “cartoon computer” I just dug in my heels. I applaud the profound sense of design imbued throughout the product line. I will even grudgingly give credit to their insane CEO.

But today, a friend was inquiring about them non-Wintel computers for a lady of his acquaintance because she thought they were cute.

The convo (edited) follows:

C: thanks for the email

B: Hope it helps. Obviously a woman of refined tastes, knowledgeable about things technical without being burdened by it's essential lack of utility.

C: yeah... she just thinks that small things are cute, so she wants one of those little 12” dealies

B: cute? CUTE?!?!?! An apple product CUTE? I am indignant! These are POWERFUL machines. Capable of augmenting the mere human's abilities to GALACTIC proportions. Solving all the world's problems

C: well, she didn't say that the apples themselves were cute, she just likes small things... don't ask me, it's weird

B: Embodying the boldness of thought in every inch of their creation. A fight against entropy. The epic battle of reversal of the great heat-death. I mean c'mon, look at the original Macintosh! And the the original iMac! And the CURRENT iMac!

C: ...

B: There all... They're all... ...cute. I need to solder teeth and fangs on my laptop's case.... To imbue it with primordial anger B: and minimize it's “cuteness.”

C: I thought you would want people to think it's cute and thus buy more of them?

B: Oh right, the “Tribbles Argument.” See how far that's gotten them! 3%? 7% of the market?

C: the klingons killed all of them.

B: Yeah, cute is the fuel to power the Jobsian Ship of Space all the way to.... to... Anaheim. Nah, They should go for the BIG and ANGRY now. Let that performance-art group that makes the giant destruction robots take over. Steam- and smoke-belching atrocities of technical grandeur that frighten the user from the moment of boot up.

C: i would like that better than cute, but i doubt that this girl would

B: Humbling the carbon-units with the mightiness of their power. Oh yeah, turning your computer on should be DANGEROUS... ...but turning it OFF should be LIFE-THREATENING VROOM, yeah baby, Whhheeeeeee-EEEEEEEE-eeeeee

C: too much sugar today, B?

B: I want my multi-gigahertz Ultimaputer to make those Harley-dweebs quake in FEAR at my approach. Giant bolts of enthusiasm... Tesla-coils 9 meters tall, I want my town to brown-out when my wireless starts up... {bing} Oh, darn, time for my medication...

Ok, ok, ok, so it was all in good fun, but I think I might be on to something here. Instead for Frog Design, or SuperHappyBunny, I think the insane CEO should hire Survival Research Labs. (The aforementioned San Francisco-based performance-art group that uses destructive robots of enormous size/power. the only theater with a real body-count... See photo above.)

I think with all the case-modders out there, we should be looking for a machine that embodies the anger. Shouts out the danger, makes the user afraid to disagree with it. Or at least, to tamper with it's internals.

Since most of those that I know live in abject fear of their tech, I just think we're expressing the honest reality of it. Putting it out for all to see. Bring it on.

I have a sculptor friend who I've been trying to get into case-mods, and this guy can express some serious issues. (Comes from being paid to carry an M-16 in his youth) I think we could combine nightmares and make a case that could insure the kids never EVER use it without permission. From the machine.

categories:

  • “cars”
  • “networks”

Saw two wildly different philosophies towards wireless this week. One demo had attempted to share WiFi through a folding AirWall (Big room divider) and failed, but as the chief nerd said, “Why depend on the internet for your demo if the audience won't know the difference?” Figure this, you've got maybe 10 seconds to make a 1st impression at a tradeshow. Now WHY are you using the 'net for this vitally short period of time, let alone WiFi?  So they didn't: they went with a canned-demo that looked like a live link, and it worked just fine.

The other view was 180. These guys just brought along a WiFi broadband router, and well, yah, they had all their demo stations on it. And you know, it worked... for the 1st two days of the show... then all down, 100%. Now to be fair, it could've been downed by one of their hosts being infected, there's nothing like 10,000 TCP sessions/minute to bring the party to a halt. But their first mystery has to be “What's on our wLAN?” and just how are you going to answer that in a room full of people with WiFi cards?

I was thinkin' the other day of things right-stuff, and I recalled that when John Young was asked about what he and Robert Crippen would do in the event of trouble during the launch of the maiden flight of Columbia, he quipped “Just pull the little handle.”

Then I thought of what that ride would be. And that's when the entire world around me went all watery and I thought that Einstein was nuts: when you're REALLY accelerating at the limits, it's not relativity, it's Daliwood.

So now tell me again why the US market is denied the Citroen Pluriel? Or the Diesel powered BMW's and Mercedes? Not the mid-sized MB E's, I mean the BMW 3 convertible and MB C2xx diesels. (I heard the BMW convertible is fantastic, a diesel without compromise.)

I think someone's decided that common sense prevails: Americans will not buy diesels, luxury hatch-backs, or odd Japanese projects. Piffle to all 3.

No, we're just a market of idiots when it comes to cars. Dang, the only thing the US consumer market leads the world on are guns.

Oh well, I'll rant next time on why civilians can't buy the Pilatus PC-21.

categories:

  • “ramblings”

Tonight's a lunar eclipse. And it's “easy time” compared to the last one I stayed up to watch. (Totality at 3am, back in 80? 81?) Tonight we should see the moon disappear at around 7-8pm. Nice, I pray the clouds stay thin. If you've never watched a lunar eclipse, don't stay up for it. But if you happen to be up at that time, DO make sure to take time and take some glances as it progresses. It's really quite amazing to watch the moon cycle through a whole month in a very few hours.

Of things lunar, the other day I glanced up from unloading the car (curse Daylight Savings) and saw the nearly full moon, and an airliner perfectly framed in it. Absolutely amazing, and the wing clearance light towards me blinked! What an amazing sight. I was going to wax mathematical and try to figure the odds, but I'll just keep it visceral. I live within 10 miles of one of the busiest airports in the world, and planes fly over with enough regularity that post-9/11 was positively eerie. So you'd think there'd have been a few chance encounters like this. Never in 13 years of living in the footprint of this airport. Never, in my whole life. And I look up at planes and the moon far more than the average Joe. What a sight.

And since I've got you in on this lunacy, let me tell you my other odd piece of history. Where were you on 20 Jul 1969? I was sitting with my brother in the back seat of a VW wagon (sky blue, of course!) listening to Voice of America on the Blaupunkt radio while we raced across the desert to get home in time to see the TV coverage. Watched b&w TV with the sound turned down, and Walter Cronkite's narration provided by a Zenith WorldRadio. That's when the world got as small as its ever been. Somehow, it's gotten bigger, louder, and less singular, but maybe that's just me.

Charlie's eyeing me again, he knows when I'm quiet for a long time, I'm up to no good...

Look up at the moon tonight, would ya?

categories:

  • “ramblings”

I picked up a pair of cheap sunglasses from the local licensed drug-pusher's emporium. Couple of bearded Texans hangin' about, but I didn't think much of them at the time. And a guy all in b&w near the door chain-smoking cigarettes and muttering to the security camera “...at the signpost up ahead...”

I've been favoring polarized sunglasses because they really do help. It's remarkable how well you can see through car-windows with them. And since some auto manufacturers idiotically put the CHMSL behind a sloping rear window, they've saved my life a couple of times. Plus it's a trip to look at the windshields of some minivans: total lsd-coloration that the straights have no idea's there.

But this last pair is special. It's defective. See, one lens is polarized 90° to the other. I suppose that means one lens is “right” and the other is 90° off, but the effect is pretty wild.

No, the sky's still the same deeper blue. And windows are mostly transparent. And minivans' windshields are still purple and gold. But look at your digital watch, and your head will fall off. Try to read the LCD display on the stereo and you'll change lanes. Cellphone display? Fuggedaboutit.

I have some friends who are total astrophotography nuts. I'm thinking of surreptitiously lending them this treasure and watch them wander about agog for a couple of hours.

Another bud works in a 3D movie theater, and he might appreciate them more than average. (Come to think of it, though, I've worn 3D-polarized glasses before, and I don't recall my watch looking like I have an invisible eye-patch...)

Yep, I think of the person working for $.01 per pair (the People's Liberation Army is a GREAT employer!) and running out of stock on the stamping machine that cuts these pitiful excuses for lenses. Reload, who cares about orientation, and off we go again. You'd really never know, my unscientific experiments indicate that the glasses never have exactly the right polarization angle anyway, but at least both lenses are the same!

And how many useless movie plots center around special glasses? Ok, I can only think of that one where the guy can see the aliens when he wears them, so this is a conversational dead end.

But glasses do lend mystery. At the purchase of my 2nd car (The first, a 69 Mustang Mach 1 was, how shall we say it, a less than ideal choice?) had my friend Steve help me with the check-out and negotiations on this little runabout. The rather attractive lady came out to talk, and he politely asked her to remove her shades because he wanted to see her eyes while they discussed the deal.

And how often does the femme fatal lower the shades to check, and raise them again to comment?

But I rest easy knowing that I have the only pair that would've made Lucy Liu flub her line to Mel Gibson in “Payback****.”

categories:

  • “blogging” tags:
  • “meta-blogging”

I think I recall Stevie Wonder's “Superstition” eking through Charlie's fine establishment the first time. Must've been a while ago, but I still think of the play of light, smoke and space when I here those horns. What a song, gets better every time.

When Big C said he wanted to let us blog and drink, I thought I'd give it a try. See what it's all about. And I'm sure I do NOT have the hang of it yet, I spill regularly.

As for the blog, what would posses someone to put this here for us—the teeming thirsties—to express ourselves? Ok, I know, the video-poker game made less than the one they installed in the Knight's of Columbus down on 5th.

While there's something about humans and video screens—you can see it all the time at appliance stores—there's even more magic attraction to something that says “write here.” So, “I am Here.” And for this narrative, so are you. I guess the presumptive reader is more fascinating than the author. I figure you're about average for a hominid, and filled with curiosity about where this wandering rant is going next.

Well, I don't know either, I think I'll just get another diet soda and ponder that while someone else takes the keys. But I'll be back and, I presume, so will you.