Any Video Games?

Went into a video game store yesterday with my son. The decor of the place was faux industrial junkyard. Shelves along each wall displayed game after game for a variety of consoles. There were naked cartridges behind glass at the counter. Aliens screamed out of posters. Racecars zoomed across cardboard stand-outs. Young people flitted between the shelves and the front counter. In the back, huge video screens displayed games on demo. I walked over to a shelf and browsed a bit for a Tetris game as my fiancee is quite fond of those.

After a few minutes, my son walks up to me, looks at the games I am looking at and says, "They don't have any games here. We should go to a game store."

Smart People

I am a lesser geek. In the dog eat dog city of geekopolis, I am a mangy cur tipping over garbage cans. I fear the dog catcher will spotlight me and throw me in the back of a cargo van to totter off with the siren wailing: "IM-per-SON-a-TOR". It is true that I am not a pure bred geek.

I develop software. That's my day job. I develop a Java based web application that allows customer service representatives to access data about people involved in State Health programs, perhaps enroll them or check their address. Stuff like that. It's interesting work, the writing of code, and I enjoy it. But I went to school for writing english and reading litrachure. There are times at work when I feel like I am in way over my head. The past week has been one of those times.

I jumped head first into a different area at work, something a bit more hard core than my usual romp through the world wide web side of things. This area is new for me, but is old bones for most, and for those that care, it involves Java Threads. We have a lot of really smart people at work. They absorb this stuff. They make jokes about it that pass way over my head ("So the way I fixed it was to extend Thread, HAHAHA"). They talk about patterns and object graphs. They have degrees in Computer Science. Some of them have been coding since high school. I'm trying to tell you these people go home after work and they continue thinking about work because the like to.

I think it's cool. Don't get me wrong. I admire them for their skills and devotion. But man, keeping up with these punks is hard work. Especially because when they start going off into virtual machine land, I start picking apart their interesting usage of some word, and pretty soon I've lost the whole conversation. It's disturbing because these people count on me to deliver quality code.

Maybe I am too hard on myself, however. They count on me now to deliver top notch code, and so far I have held up my end of the bargain. I may not be a true geek, whatever that means, but I can fill in anywhere when needed. In the dog eat dog geekopolis, I am no Mastiff power coder, nor am I a Sheep Dog herding the code into magical formations. But I might be that tricky little likeable mutt that gets into everything, which is useful sometimes, making marvelous junk-code contraptions from tipped over garbage cans.

Big Astronomy News All Around

Last night was not only a night for Red Sox fans, but also for red moon fans. A full lunar eclipse graced the sky for people in north america. And out in the quiet expanse of our solar system, far from the crazed caterwauling of the Sox fans, the Cassini-Huygens probe photographed Titan. Wondrous, I say.

Single Click Anonymous Posting

Anonymous comments, though a potential channel for abuse, provide a way to comment on your blog without needing to log into a Blogger account. In my opinion, commenting should be instantaneous and easy. To do this, I coughed up some code so everyone can share in my pain. Feel free to hack away. You'll need to know about blog Ids.

Anonymous comment link (note the &anonymous=y...pretty simple):

<a href="http://www.blogger.com/app/post.pyra?blogid=xxxxxx&postID= <$BlogItemNumber$"> &anonymous=y">Comment Anonymously</a>

To make it easy for people with accounts to sign and comment, here's the analogous link:

<a href="http://www.blogger.com/app/post.pyra?blogid=xxxxxx&postID= <$BlogItemNumber$"> &anonymous=y">comment</a>

And to round out all the possible ways to view or edit comments, you gotta have this:
<a href="<$BlogItemPermalinkURL$>#comments">(<$BlogItemCommentCount$> comments currently)</a>

don't forget to style it up with CSS for that look and feel that keeps your reader [sic] coming back.

Total Eclipse of the Moon

Check it out! Full visibility from the west coast during these times. This is a fantastic opportunity to understand your location in the universe.

A new horse pill

It's a big pill because it's that good for you. Yeah sure. I look at this monster and can imagine so many mishaps. But here's a thought. If they made the functional parts, the "arms and legs", out of a digestible but stiff material and covered it with a layer of stiff gel like in gel caps, that would probably allow for accidents, but do very little harm. One mistake and you could send a signal that activates a fracture in the gel cap, and then your body would begin digesting all the pokey, harmful parts, leaving some kind of slick computer/actuators at the core. I imagine they could use really old oatmeal to make the legs. What about you?

They're doing what?

The real question here is what happens to the brain after the lights go off and the researchers go home.

Oregon Voter's Guide, redux

Carole D.Winegarden is yet another candidate for goverment office that makes reading the voter's guide enjoyable. She's going for State Treasurer, an office that in her opinion exists to serve and glorify the name of Jesus Christ. Oh yeah, and as evidence that the government is hiding money from the public she references this site. As a tip to anyone who wants to out a minor political conspiracy totalling $612 Billion, instead of letting everyone know through a candidacy and a crazed picture, try a newspaper, or a blog . :)

New Comment link

With the flood of people coming to this blog (har har har), I've emplaced a new link to comment anonymously, as well as a link to comment if you have a Blogger account. I believe it should be as easy as possible to use the web.

Missing Post

So this is my first blog, and the service is completly free. Someone else takes care of everything about this website. All I am doing is writing stuff that goes on the internet for people to read. It truly is marvelous. I did however just lose a post. I am worried? No. Wasn't anything important. But it brings up one thought which is that I have been thinking about moving this to a domain and hosting it somewhere (read: making my own www.modoquasi.com website, where I control most important aspects about the computer that dishes out the blog). That costs dinars. But I ask you: isn't it about time?

Mind Boggled

I am continually amazed at the human brain. The book I am writing is progressing slowly, mostly because of time constraints, but also because I am a n00b. For the past three weeks I have been shouldering through chapter seven in the desire to work on chapter eight because it will be fun, and so chapter seven has a certain, shall we say, suckness. Not meaning that's bad of course, and this is my point. See, I can't write what I want until I see what I want to say.

The brain is a massive rootball of networked synapses numbering in the hundreds of billions, essentially the same number as stars in our galaxy. And all those cells do is relate, relate, relate. I will concede there are a few that control some measly organs like the heart and lungs, and there are still others which exist to be sacrificed to the Beer God. But mostly those cells relate one thing with another. They might relate the number three to the holy trinity, baseball, an oak tree, and a Scottish Terrier, which was your fourth pet, which your brain brings up because your third died. This simple sequence of relations would in itself be amazing, but your brain piles on the wonder by making these jumps any old time it feels like. This was the case this morning, in the shower, while thinking about, of all things, a leaky shower head.

Again, the suckness of chapter seven was not on my mind at the time, having written precious little about it the previous night, and instead being focused on how water was getting out of my shower and into my basement. I gave the shower head a scrutinizing scowl and twisted the spray to one side, then the other, and determine that what I have is a problem. Then it suddenly dawns on me that what I really need for chapter seven is a problem, a conflict specific to that chapter. The actual conflict suddenly jumps into my head right then as well and I hold onto it as I leap out of the shower and towel off and head straight to the computer to write it down, pants unbuckled, shirtless, and water dripping onto the floor.

By spending the time writing what I didn't want, I provided myself with the raw material to find out what I wanted, even if I didn't know what it was, or when I would be working on it. The brain does not shut off, and it is important in writing to remember that. Show up and do the work, and things will happen. Creativity is not only the desired result, but it is the background process as well.

Headwind

I bicycle to work everyday rain or shine. I have quite the trustworthy setup with a pair of very useful saddle bags, a fast commuter style bike, and all the lights I need for the early nights of Oregon winters. I like riding in the rain, actually. There's something peaceful and at the same time defiant when riding in a downpour. Aside from the forehead slapping realization that it's just water, riding in the rain brings the vast openness of outside up close. Visibility is limited. Sound is muted and any echoes usually come from splashing gutters along concrete walls. For what it's worth I also like the cold. But if there is one thing I cannot abide it is a headwind.

Nothing kills a ride like a headwind. Some might consider it a challenge. Others might simply ride slower, understanding that mother nature is boss, but I seem unable to submit entirely. Today, for example, was particularly illuminating on this as going to work in the morning I pushed straight into a slow but steady wind that dragged at my wheels all the way to work. I built up a sweat even though I barely broke 15 miles an hour. And to make matters worse, the wind switched direction at the end of the day and the ride home was just as plodding. At first, I scowled into the wind and clenched my teeth.

Somehow I always apply greater meaning to these occurrences. I look for cues to the state of the world, or simply the state of my life, in these tiny difficulties. What did I see in a headwind coming and going? Each trip to work, and each trip from work gives me a spectacular view of downtown Portland from across the river. I live in a spectacular city, I have to say. To me Portland has the warm attractiveness of a well used classic car: a clean style with thankfully little glittery pomp; the simple efficiency that makes living here easy; and a shroud of fantastic mist and rain that for me makes the city ever fresh from behind the clouds.

What greater meaning did the headwind provide for me today? It slowed me down to look.

Three Days

My great grandmother is ninety-two years old and she just entered hospice care and I am wondering how my life became so snarled that scheduling time to visit her in Oklahoma is turning out to be a labor the likes of which Hercules would fear to grapple. We're taking Austin because he needs to see everyone. With three, then, the cost is dear, but if it were just that, I think Citibank would appreciate the donation to their coffers.

But, no. There are two jobs, both inflexible. Both demanding the way in which only the American Corporation can be demanding. And each child has another parent whose motivation is at best uncooperative, though mulish is a more flavorful term. Siobhan has soccer every weekend, and she rightfully wants her mom to be there. She is a fierce player and a marvel to watch. So weekends are tight. Austin has his grandma's birthday to attend on one weekend soon, and, since he is doing well in school, we all want him to keep up his pace, so weekdays are out of the question.

All I'm asking for is three days, here. My future wife is wearing my great grandmother's wedding band, and I would like them to meet.

tongue slips unspun

a quote from the languagelog, a blog to unravel the babble.

"A half-century of research into slips of the tongue suggests that Freud's attempt to provide them with unconscious motivations was at best unnecessary. We screw up in speaking because speaking is incredibly hard. Our poor overloaded frontal lobes are trying to select packages of multi-modal associations from the other end of the cortex at a rate of three or four per second, arrange them in complex patterns, and use them to coordinate the multi-dimensional wiggling of our eating and breathing apparatus so as to modulate sound waves in a way that will cause some mostly-unknown fellow humans to experience analogous patterns of structured associations, and consequently modify their mental state in ways advantageous to us. When it comes to talking, our unconscious fears and desires are the least of our problems."

Oh the Irony

John Stewart, host of a comedy show that pretends to be news, appeared on Crossfire, a news show that appears to be theatrically comedic. The interview sums up everything in the world as we know it. The conservative (bow-tie wearing) newsman assaults the Comedian for not being hard hitting and informative enough. Read that sentence again to understand America. Americans watch news because it's entertaining, and apparently we're watching comedy to get news. And in other news: Topsy-turvy was admitted to the hospital for falling up the stairs tea over ass-kettle. Please use Turvy-topsy in the interim.

Democracy in America II

Evidently, erotica, bombast and poor web design skills must equal State Senate Candidate because Theresa Reed a.k.a. darklady is a candidate, as says the almighty Voter's Guide. Note at the bottom, just to reassure you, she has friends. I'm telling you: Voter's Guide, mandatory reading.

Popsicle sticks

The weekend before last we got the kids some popsicle sticks for building wonders of the world. At first we bought just a bag of one hundred. Thirty quiet minutes after the kids started, they had used all one hundred. I helped, of course, as I tried to build a balloon powered car. So, we found ourselves back at the hobby shop, forking over green for tongue depressors: this time a box of 1000 popsicle sticks. With 1000, the kids went berserk. Spurts of glue, shavings of wood, paint on the floor: it was beautiful. They consumed the whole weekend crafting; they were quiet; they fought surprisingly little. Austin was amazing. He built a right shapely birdhouse. It was really cool to see. Siobhan definitely has a flare for creativity. She has no fear in making something, and I consider that a great gift. I hope she holds onto it. This weekend Austin started a marble track for a simple machine project at school.

Popsicle sticks. Think about this for a moment. We could use these things to our advantage. Why don't we ship a pallet of popsicle sticks to the Palestinians, Israelis, Iraqis and the U.S. soldiers. Peace would be instantaneous and bound with the unbreakable bond of elmer's glue.

freegeek

For anyone who doesn't know, Freegeek is the shiznat. They recycle and reuse computer equipment, including that 16 mhz 386 with a 2 mb hard drive you use to hold up the box of chistmas lights in the basement. They take that equipment and build boxen for people who can't afford new ones. I just dropped off a load of equipment that has questionable value, and they took it graciously. There's a ten dollar charge for monitors, but that's well worth it. And, they give you a receipt that counts as a tax deduction. w00t

Why I love Democracy

I got my Election Ballot in the mail today. We in Oregon enjoy a low tech paper and pencil vote by mail option. As a matter of fact, so conditioned am I to this process I could not tell you of an actual polling booth in this state. I have no idea if we use them still.

Not only is the greatness of America summed up in the fact that i can review the ballot while dropping trow over the commode, but the reading material to be found in the Voter's Guide is an amazing tribute to all that is Free Speech. I give you measure 36 . Right in the beginning are a torrent of out of this world arguments in favor. So out of this world are they that they appear, perhaps, fake. And lo, if one reads them all, one finds they are by the same author, and they are all secretly (or not so) designed to sway voter opinion away from voting in favor. Check out the guy's website. Hilarity ensues.

I don't know if the ploy will work on most people. But I think there are probably a few axon-starved fence perchers who might fall from the post on the Against side after reading this.

space travel

In my opinion, It ideas like these that represent the pinnacle of the human spirit.

obligatory quote:

A new means of propelling spacecraft being developed at the University of Washington could dramatically cut the time needed for astronauts to travel to and from Mars and could make humans a permanent fixture in space.

In fact, with magnetized-beam plasma propulsion, or mag-beam, quick trips to distant parts of the solar system could become routine, said Robert Winglee, a UW Earth and space sciences professor who is leading the project.

Robert Creeley

I Know a Man

As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking, -- John, I

sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what

can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,

drive, he sd, for
christ's sake, look
out where yr going.

--robert creeley

robert creeley because sometimes you gotta.

first post since I can't get one on slashdot

So I'm just going to start this up because, well honestly, because it seems like the right time and a good idea. I wrote an email the other day to a friend with a funny description of my first response to a new video game (counter-strike source), and he said I needed a blog.

Needed a blog. I have an English degree. I write a lot, and as some people know, I am working on a book. I've written umpteen overly self-conscious short stories and a few poems. I'll save the details for later, but suffice to say that I enjoy writing. I may never publish, aside from this blog, but I will always write. So, when my friend told me I need a blog, well, I chuckled because the blog trend has been on my radar, but for some reason it always seemed something that other people do. Other people have fringe minded conspiracy blogs, political blogs, cooking blogs, red hot rolling hot rod blogs, blogs on frogs attracted to nightlights. The neat thing about the internet, though, is that tons of people read blogs on frogs, and sometimes they do it by nightlight.

Needed a blog. After he said it I fell into one of those star filled moments, those times when your brain gets all white and fuzzy as if it's afloat on a sea of ether. It occurred to me that not only could I put up things that, at the very least, my friends and family would enjoy, but I could use the blog as a great place to talk to myself about the strange things in life. I say: what better reason for a blog but to blather about bizarre happenstance, especially to yourself. It is the worst of reasons, of course, which makes it the best.

Smoking buddha blunt

here's to the future