2.4.2016
Among the brainless rants, ridiculous commentary, interesting articles, amusing gifs and all the rest the mighty, vast Intertubes have to offer, they offer podcasts. I'm back on the job and therefore am sitting in front of a computer for 9-10 hours a day, and podcasts help burn down the hours (as does a robust, "functioning" render farm). One brutally great podcast is one called "Hardcore History," and it really lives up to its name and delivers fascinating, detailed accounts of our human history here on Earth.
The multi-part, multi-hour-per-part series of Hardcore History I'm listening to is called "Blueprint for Armageddon," an account of the misery that was World War I. I highly recommend it, if you're into feeling terrible about humanity and the Leaders of Men.
You know the gist of WWI: 19th Century war tactics put up against 20th Century war technology. It was brutal and pitifully sad.
One of the saddest "battles" was the Battle of the Somme. It was a five month meat grinder in which it is estimated 1,000,000 men were killed or wounded. It started poorly: One the opening day, July 1, 1916, the British whistles blew, the tommies went over the wall, the Boche machine guns opened up and neary 20,000 tommies were killed. Sad, sad, sad.
Anyway, I'm telling you this because I'm reenacting the first day of the Battle of the Somme in my gut. I'm on a course of antibiotics for a fucking bug and I don't really care for antibiotics. My bright idea this time is to bolster my gut biome by taking probiotics. I'm taking something called Solaray Multidophilus 20 Billion. That's a lot of microorganisms that go down the hatch only to meet the antibiotics. I'm hoping the good beasties can hold the line until I'm done with the antibiotics. I do have a bit of fun pretending the 20 Billion are the troops going over the wall. But then, I'm prone to stupid ideas like that.
Tonight - The Homestead.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Becket (REDUX)
2.3.2016 (First posted this week 2006. Some things never change.)
Fer better or worse, computers are quite crucial to my life. Communication, entertainment, research, news, "relaxation," and my CAREER have computers as the key component. I'm really happy with my home computer setup. I got a slick, fast, feature-rich PowerBook that runs a fantastic operating system. I got a huge storage drive that currently has about 50 days-worth of music. And I got a phone, a camera and another gadget that play nicely with the computer.
I'm not having the same joy with my work computer. Sure it's fast and the applications work as they're intended to, but dealing with the Windows OS has always bummed me out. Recently there's one particular thing about the Windows experience that kills me: The "Windows Button."
If you don't know of the "Windows Button," it's fairly simply explained. One button to the left and to the right of the spacebar is the "Windows Button." Pressing it one gets booted out of the application they are in and presented with the "Start Menu" that contains shortcuts to applications. Ok, on the surface it's a fine idea. A hard-wired shortcut that MS knows by god that its customers NEED. Realistically, though, it sucks. It sucks because when one augments their primary input device (in my case a Wacom pressure-sensitive graphics tablet and stylus) with the keyboard to quickly change tools, the "Windows Button" is strategically located to get in the way. My work demands attention, concentration, focus and precision. I cannot afford to break concentration by looking down at my keyboard, let alone be totally derailed by accidentally touching the "Windows Button" when trying to press CTL or ALT and being presented with a shortcut to MY DOCUMENTS. It's retarded. It needs to go.
So I'm putting a call out to a List Member. I can't remember who it was but they had a kid. A clever kid. A young lad that will be going places in his life. This kid modified his daddy's computer's keyboard. And I'm talkin' CUSTOM mod. And with a non-standard tool: His SHOE! This kid extracted the Z key from his dad's computer with his shoe. I need to rent that kid and his shoe to get over here and rid me of this "Windows Button."
Will no one rid me of this meddlesome button?
Tonight - Make Out Room (by request)
Teaming up with The Tim Pries Benevolent Beverage Society for a truly memorable evening that you probably won't be able to recall.
BART-friendly!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Fer better or worse, computers are quite crucial to my life. Communication, entertainment, research, news, "relaxation," and my CAREER have computers as the key component. I'm really happy with my home computer setup. I got a slick, fast, feature-rich PowerBook that runs a fantastic operating system. I got a huge storage drive that currently has about 50 days-worth of music. And I got a phone, a camera and another gadget that play nicely with the computer.
I'm not having the same joy with my work computer. Sure it's fast and the applications work as they're intended to, but dealing with the Windows OS has always bummed me out. Recently there's one particular thing about the Windows experience that kills me: The "Windows Button."
If you don't know of the "Windows Button," it's fairly simply explained. One button to the left and to the right of the spacebar is the "Windows Button." Pressing it one gets booted out of the application they are in and presented with the "Start Menu" that contains shortcuts to applications. Ok, on the surface it's a fine idea. A hard-wired shortcut that MS knows by god that its customers NEED. Realistically, though, it sucks. It sucks because when one augments their primary input device (in my case a Wacom pressure-sensitive graphics tablet and stylus) with the keyboard to quickly change tools, the "Windows Button" is strategically located to get in the way. My work demands attention, concentration, focus and precision. I cannot afford to break concentration by looking down at my keyboard, let alone be totally derailed by accidentally touching the "Windows Button" when trying to press CTL or ALT and being presented with a shortcut to MY DOCUMENTS. It's retarded. It needs to go.
So I'm putting a call out to a List Member. I can't remember who it was but they had a kid. A clever kid. A young lad that will be going places in his life. This kid modified his daddy's computer's keyboard. And I'm talkin' CUSTOM mod. And with a non-standard tool: His SHOE! This kid extracted the Z key from his dad's computer with his shoe. I need to rent that kid and his shoe to get over here and rid me of this "Windows Button."
Will no one rid me of this meddlesome button?
Tonight - Make Out Room (by request)
Teaming up with The Tim Pries Benevolent Beverage Society for a truly memorable evening that you probably won't be able to recall.
BART-friendly!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Two Hit Shutout
2.2.2015
Don't know if I've ever mentioned my 1994 CroMoly steel Gary Fisher Aquila mountain bike before.
I got it out of mothballs when we uncrated our mini-TNSC Robot in 2008 and I got a bike seat for it. I have Continental "Town & Country" semi-slicks on it and man, is that old girl fast and smooth. I wouldn't think of parting with it and glad for that, because my new gig is allowing me to ride it to work again, as I did for years in Chicago, SF and for some time here in LA. (I mentioned an anecdote about it last week, yo.)
Since I have an advanced memory storage and retrieval system, I remember something someone said about my bike shortly after I got it, 22 years ago (if you're doing the math).
"Nice bike. Why does it have reflectors? It's a mountain bike, isn't it?"
I had no answer at that time, and I regret being tongue-tied to this day. I've had all those years to craft the perfect response and I was reminded of it when I climbed aboard for today's commute.
"I don't live on a mountain, fuck head."
I'm glad I have reflectors on it. I wish I had more. I have blinkys, reflectors, head lights, luminous tape and frikkin' LASERS now. Biking in LA (or Chi, or SF) at night is perilous. You try to be seen by drivers, skaters, peds and everyone else so you don't. Wreck. Don't wreck.
--
Every time I remember turfing a come-back to that stupid comment I remember the other time I didn't have one in the chamber for another asshole's remark.
It was several years ago now when I pulled up in my 2002 "Cactus Green" Jeep Liberty Renegade to pick the asshole and his slut wife up for a ride to a Cubs game here in LA. He said, "Dude, isn't that a chick's car?" I wasn't expecting it so I flubbed out: "Do you want a ride or not?"
I've had time to rewrite my response.
"Your mom likes the back seat, asshole."
Tonight - The Hyde Out (by request)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Don't know if I've ever mentioned my 1994 CroMoly steel Gary Fisher Aquila mountain bike before.
I got it out of mothballs when we uncrated our mini-TNSC Robot in 2008 and I got a bike seat for it. I have Continental "Town & Country" semi-slicks on it and man, is that old girl fast and smooth. I wouldn't think of parting with it and glad for that, because my new gig is allowing me to ride it to work again, as I did for years in Chicago, SF and for some time here in LA. (I mentioned an anecdote about it last week, yo.)
Since I have an advanced memory storage and retrieval system, I remember something someone said about my bike shortly after I got it, 22 years ago (if you're doing the math).
"Nice bike. Why does it have reflectors? It's a mountain bike, isn't it?"
I had no answer at that time, and I regret being tongue-tied to this day. I've had all those years to craft the perfect response and I was reminded of it when I climbed aboard for today's commute.
"I don't live on a mountain, fuck head."
I'm glad I have reflectors on it. I wish I had more. I have blinkys, reflectors, head lights, luminous tape and frikkin' LASERS now. Biking in LA (or Chi, or SF) at night is perilous. You try to be seen by drivers, skaters, peds and everyone else so you don't. Wreck. Don't wreck.
--
Every time I remember turfing a come-back to that stupid comment I remember the other time I didn't have one in the chamber for another asshole's remark.
It was several years ago now when I pulled up in my 2002 "Cactus Green" Jeep Liberty Renegade to pick the asshole and his slut wife up for a ride to a Cubs game here in LA. He said, "Dude, isn't that a chick's car?" I wasn't expecting it so I flubbed out: "Do you want a ride or not?"
I've had time to rewrite my response.
"Your mom likes the back seat, asshole."
Tonight - The Hyde Out (by request)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, February 04, 2016
The Eagle Flies Again
2.1.2016
Some of you might remember that I lived up on the hill downtown when I lived in San Francisco. The job I had when I lived there was down the hill and across the all-but uninhabited flat area near the train tracks. That's where I met the Linkey-Loo Robot, for all you archivists out there.
Anyway, my commute to and from that job was via bicycle and the fast, downhill part was the to- part. And when I say fast, I mean fast. In short order, I got the timing of the traffic lights down and tried to make it at least down the hill without stopping. I almost always made it. Rarer still was making it down the hill nonstop, then making it partially or all the way through the "forbidden zone" without stopping. That made the commute about six minutes. It was rad and I noticed the novelty of the nonstop: In the four-or-so years I worked at that place, I made it to work nonstop five times. They were a rush and that's why I remember them.
--
Yesterday was my third day at a new job that's just over two miles from home. It's very flat and I have no real turns. It's virtually 2.1 miles as the crow flies, no shit.
So I'm back to my bike commute and it's been a long time coming. I'm really happy about it. So the unexpected "welcome back to bike commuting" gift to my yesterday morning, was, you guessed it, a nonstop ride. I hope there are many more to come.
Tonight - Doc's Clock
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Some of you might remember that I lived up on the hill downtown when I lived in San Francisco. The job I had when I lived there was down the hill and across the all-but uninhabited flat area near the train tracks. That's where I met the Linkey-Loo Robot, for all you archivists out there.
Anyway, my commute to and from that job was via bicycle and the fast, downhill part was the to- part. And when I say fast, I mean fast. In short order, I got the timing of the traffic lights down and tried to make it at least down the hill without stopping. I almost always made it. Rarer still was making it down the hill nonstop, then making it partially or all the way through the "forbidden zone" without stopping. That made the commute about six minutes. It was rad and I noticed the novelty of the nonstop: In the four-or-so years I worked at that place, I made it to work nonstop five times. They were a rush and that's why I remember them.
--
Yesterday was my third day at a new job that's just over two miles from home. It's very flat and I have no real turns. It's virtually 2.1 miles as the crow flies, no shit.
So I'm back to my bike commute and it's been a long time coming. I'm really happy about it. So the unexpected "welcome back to bike commuting" gift to my yesterday morning, was, you guessed it, a nonstop ride. I hope there are many more to come.
Tonight - Doc's Clock
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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