Robots and Eggs

Nobody Younger than Me Knows Squat

2011-09-18T13:00:00.000-04:00

When one reaches a certain "temporal seniority", one comes to realize some fundamental truths. That is to say, nobody younger than me knows squat.

Some of the teachers in my daughter's school were born after I graduated high school. How can I entrust my child's education to people who are barely old enough to cross the street alone?

Kids today have no appreciation of history. To whit: A few days ago I purchased a terabyte external hard drive for just over a hundred bucks. 20-plus years ago I installed a 20 megabyte hard drive that cost just over four hundred bucks. Today's drive is roughly two hundred thousand times the capacity per dollar. It's way faster too.

My first modem was 300 baud. It stunk. So I took it back to Radio Shack and shelled out an extra hundred bucks for the 1200 baud version. And it was fast. Now I've got 0.43Mb/s upstream and 6.42Mb/s downstream, but it doesn't feel as fast.

I was the youngest kid in my family, which meant I had the honor/duty of being the remote control for the TV. I was the one who got up and changed the channel. Yes, that clicky dial on the side of the 19" (if you were lucky) TV screen. I also knew how to point the rabbit ears so we could watch Wally Gator on Channel 7 out of Roanoke. That's why cartoons were only 4 or 5 minutes back then. So kids wouldn't pass out trying to balance on one foot while holding the antenna out one way and sticking one leg out the other.

And keep your internets off my grass.

2011-09-18T07:51:00.000-04:00

Sweet Ink

I now sport a Zombie on my arm. Not only a Zombie, but a Pirate-Zombie. With a skull. And an eyeball in the skull so he can see your face melt into helpless terror before he does all sorts of mean Pirate-Zombie things to you. He's even got a red bandanna because if he had any sweat glands or hair, it would keep them out of his eye. Those might even be ninja swords nailed to the ship's wheel.

"How cool is that", you ask?

"So cool Jungle Beasts howl my name at the rising moon" I reply.

It doesn't photograph very well, though. I think the awesomeness interferes will the camera's CCD element.

If it was a traditional sub-dermal tattoo it wouldn't be so shiny. Instead I got a super-dermal tattoo. Everybody knows super is better than sub.

Plus it'll come off with a little lava soap before my wife comes back to town. The importance of this cannot be over stressed.

If I Ran the Fair

2011-07-03T16:47:00.005-04:00

When I was a little tyke, one of my favorite books was Dr. Seuss' "If I Ran the Circus". I always liked the great big lemonade tank and the huge stack of cups. Mr. Sneelock seemed like a really cool guy. Kinda laid back, and a jack of all trades. He's semi-retired, running his store and smoking his pipe, secure in the knowledge that he can still wrestle a Grizzly-Ghastly if called upon.

Flash forward to 2011. One of my favorite things about the state fair is the way the vendor's signs reach out and grab you by the optic nerve. And they won't let go until they've extracted the designated bit of cash. There's something magical about the promise of the most delicious, decadent, deep-fried, and (usually) downright disgusting snacks ever conceived by Western Man.

I've never had deep-fried snickers bars, deep fried Coca-Cola, or a double cheese burger with extra bacon and two Krispy Kreme donuts in place of the bun, but I do enjoy thinking about them.

Toast! The Noble Breakfast

2010-04-05T19:30:00.007-04:00

Is it not wonderful to live in a time and place where toast is available 24/7, without regard to color, creed, or regional football affiliation?

You see, back in the middle ages toast was not the fare of the common man (those peasants sure had it crumby), but reserved for the landed gentry, the upper crust if you will*.

Tremendous resources were expended in the production of Toast for themsuch what could afford it. It took a lot of bread to make Toast. Massive Leyden Jars, Lightning Catchers, and the ancient Egyptian Lens of Ra, are but a few of the artifacts of the Master Toaster's craft without which no breakfast museum would be complete.

Toast provides interesting nutrients. In addition to Thrombic Acid and Polysulfamenahydrozine, Toast has been shown to augment one's Powers of Command. This revelation goes a long way toward explaining why Toast was always found among the preserves of the aristocracy.

* If you won't? Fine. I'm moving on.

SPUD 0.1

2010-01-10T10:36:00.005-05:00

I 'umbly present my new Sensor Platform Universal Device, better known by the tortured acronym of SPUD. This little guy has an Arduino Mini for a brain, uses an L297D motor controller chip from Solarbotics to power the motors, and has a detachable USB interface for programming. It can go forward, backward, turn right and left, and spin in place right and left, using only four digital outputs from the Arduino to the motor controller. This leaves eight digital and eight analog lines open for sensor input and/or other gadgets.

Glee!

You can put your arms down when you get back to NC

2010-01-02T22:12:00.004-05:00

Another Christmas in New England. Another reminder that my once hardy mountain blood has thinned to water. It was all the way up to 14F, and I couldn't go outside to play without bundling up in the equivalent of two sheep and a yak.

When I started college, transplanting myself from West Virginia to Chapel Hill, NC, fifty five degrees was T Shirt weather. I openly scoffed at the pathetic weaklings who wore hats, jackets, and (giggle) gloves in an environment wherein water remained liquid. I never put on a jacket before going out to play, no matter how many times Mom told me to. (This was back when colds and flu were thought to be caused by low body temperature, before germs were discovered.) Now I'm the one telling my daughter to wear her heavy coat and not blame me if her fingers freeze to the swings. Truly, my hypocrisy knows no bounds*.

The answer, of course, is that kids are exothermic. They generate so much heat with their scurrying, fidgeting, and metabolizing that they light up the infrared frequencies like the Fourth of July. As we mature, our bodies settle down and focus on nourishing and nurturing our brains, magnifying our wisdom. With deep thoughts come certain endothermic tendencies. Yes. I'm sure that's it. My Giant Brain (tm) requires more energy than my body can provide on it's own so I must draw molecular kinetic energy from my environment. I'm not getting colder. I'm getting smarter.

*First Tombstone quote of the year!

2010

2010-01-01T17:00:00.001-05:00

A few years ago I found myself with enough time on my hands to start painting Warhammer 40K miniatures. I bought a bunch of these cool little plastic guys and started painting. Now, I didn't have the time or ambition to outfit a whole army. I just wanted a half dozen futuristic pieces for a game of 3D Frag.

They looked pretty cool, but what really inspired me were their hyperbolic names. Instead of being called "Infantry" they had names like "Blood Angel Angst Vindicator Squadron". Seriously. Would you rather be shot by an "Armored Soldier w/Jet Pack and Laser Blaster" or have your quarks blown to kingdom come by a "Chaos Space Marine Khorne Berzerker Skull Champion"? I know which I'd rather have on my tombstone.

I hold this up as a shining example of Trying Harder, and I resolve to also Try Harder in 2010 and beyond. I no longer drive a "Car". I now drive a "Quad Wheel Combustotron Interstate Vindicator". I don't pet the "Cat". I feed the "Feline Hellion Rodent Retribution Reaver". Here's hoping we don't run out of Science Diet...

Places where I'd rather not live

2009-09-08T21:05:00.003-04:00

In New York, this serves as hospitality...

Places where I'd rather not sit

2009-09-08T20:54:00.003-04:00

Ya know, I had a whole five paragraph missive on the aesthetic shortcomings of this poor chair in my office. In the interest of brevity, I can summarize it thusly:

Dang.

Places where I'd rather not eat

2009-09-08T20:50:00.001-04:00

Uhm... I'll just have a salad, thanks.

Day 16,238

2009-05-28T20:40:00.001-04:00

Today is the 16,238th day that I have graced the surface of Planet Earth. I know this because I put my birthday into Wolfram|Alpha, the new knowledge engine from Mathematica-Guy Stephen Wolfram. (I'll forgive A New Kind of Science.) It's not a search engine. Instead of returning web links, it creates a page of information about the topic you typed in. Give it 'The meaning of life" and it returns "42", so it's on the right track, but when I asked about Dec 12th, 1964, it returned:

Notable events for December 12, 1964:

Obviously there are still some kinks in the system.

So if I had a 9 oz. yoo-hoo for every day I've been alive, I'd have 1,141 gallons of cold, chocolaty refreshment. That's equivalent to the amount of pure olive oil produced in California in 1889. The digestive implications of 1,141 gallons of either would strike fear into the lower GI tract of even a young man, let alone a geezer of 16,238.

Ode to Spring

2009-03-13T07:39:00.004-04:00

Oh Butterfly, Oh Butterfly
How you flit, and how you fly
From far away so pleasing to the eye
But
When I get up in your face
You're
Ugly

Overheard today

2009-02-27T08:51:00.002-05:00

"I don't have to work tomorrow. I'm just going to sit on the couch with the wiener dogs and just be happy."

Now, there's a guy who's got it figured out.

Paradise by the Dashboard Light

2009-02-27T07:22:00.008-05:00

Today I face the fact that all of my motivations are external. I'm sitting in the auto dealership having my car "serviced", though I suspect I'm the one being "serviced" in a metaphorically awkward way, if ya know what I mean. (Don't worry if you can't quite parse that last bit, that's why RobotsandEggs is a family blog.) I'm here watching the tumbleweeds blow through the showroom because my dashboard showed me a yellow wrench icon to tell me it was time for an oil change, transmission filter, and other crap I could probably do myself if I invested in the right tools and had the time and a paved driveway. Turns out I'd rather sign over my credit card so I can drink a Coke* and give You People something to read. So it's a win-win situation.

So back to my motivations. My car told me it wanted a diaper change, so here I am. My laptop wanted an anti-virus update, so that's downloading as we speak, as is a windows update. Since that doesn't totally choke the dealership's courtesy wi-fi, my browser told me it's feeling old and wants to be replaced by a younger version, so Firefox 3.something is downloading as well. Like a a Watcher from the Highlander TV series, I am here to "observe and record, but never interfere". Maybe I'll get a cool tattoo on the inside of my wrist. A temporary tattoo, needles make me yincy.

Firefox wants to restart and install itself. I hear and obey. Depending on how it goes, I may or may not be back. Wish me luck.

...and back. Nice and smooth, just like an automatic update should be.

So back to my motivations. My email is another powerful source of impetus. Not the spam (shudder), but I get plenty of new ideas, suggestion, requests, and assigned tasks for work through email. I should be using Thunderbird instead of Outlook, but Mozilla hasn't told me to switch, and when I asked Microsoft, they said to hold off until Bill finishes wiping out malaria, so I'll drop that into 2010's tickler file and move on.

I lie awake some nights wondering what would happen to me if I didn't have a job, a car, and a computer to guide me through my day. Realize, of course, that the influence of these pale in comparison to my wife, daughter, and cat, but life without the latter three would be too grim to contemplate for long. I suppose I would revert to satisfying the primal needs all humans have, but I just can't see being wrapped in a bearskin, hunched over a fire at the mouth of a cave gnawing on the roasted haunch of a beast I slew with a big stick or a rock. All but the roasted haunch part kind of clash with my sense of self. Besides, if you try any outdoor burning in The People's Republic of Carrboro, they'll haul you in for Environmental Assault before the match hits the ground.

So back to my motivations. How long could I go without initiating any action on my own? Would anyone notice? Heck, would *I* notice? If I took just one day, and did nothing but what I was told, suggested, or asked to do, what would be the result? Now here's a thought that frightens me: Would my life be better or worse? In the interests of science, I've gotta try it. It's too good an idea not to.

*First Coke in two weeks. I gave it up in interest of my calorie defecit**, but the vending machine was out of water so I took it as a message from The Almighty that I could have a pass for being good to my car.

** My next blog post will be about consumption, coming soon to an interweb near you.

Queens are good people

2009-02-07T09:07:00.004-05:00

So last December I sent a Christmas card to Queen Elizabeth II. She's still working hard at 82, and I thought she'd like to know that those of us on this side of the pond were thinking of her. Yesterday I received a nice little note from Sandringham House, where Her Majesty spends the holidays. Royal Post, Air Mail no less, with her own initials on the post mark.

I guess when you're (deep breath now) "Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland and the British Dominions beyond the Seas Queen, Defender of the Faith, Duchess of Edinburgh, Countess of Merioneth, Baroness Greenwich, Duke of Lancaster, Lord of Mann, Duke of Normandy, Sovereign of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, Sovereign of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, Sovereign of the Most Illustrious Order of Saint Patrick, Sovereign of the Most Distinguished Order of Saint Michael and Saint George, Sovereign of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, Sovereign of the Distinguished Service Order, Sovereign of the Imperial Service Order, Sovereign of the Most Exalted Order of the Star of India, Sovereign of the Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire, Sovereign of the Order of British India, Sovereign of the Indian Order of Merit, Sovereign of the Order of Burma, Sovereign of the Royal Order of Victoria and Albert, Sovereign of the Royal Family Order of King Edward VII, Sovereign of the Order of Mercy, Sovereign of the Order of Merit, Sovereign of the Order of the Companions of Honour, Sovereign of the Royal Victorian Order, Sovereign of the Most Venerable Order of the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem." you get to have your own post mark. How cool is that?

Celebrity Status

2009-01-31T09:11:00.005-05:00

Have you noticed that celebrities just don't try any more? Time was, a celebrity felt some responsibility to maintain an image and give us regular schlubs someone to look up to. The true stars of old would revel in their fame and the reflect the spotlight back to their adoring fans a hundred times more brightly.

Now they hop in and out of black SUVs wearing baseball hats and sunglasses. Unshaven guys (and girls), no makeup, no haircut, they don't even tuck their shirts in for Pete's sake! They get paid umpteen bajillion dollars to pretend to be somebody else, and when they finally get a chance to be themselves they dress down to the Headin-out-to-Walmart-for-a-six-pack-and-some-Pringles level. I mean, Natalie Portman could walk through that door right now, and she'd be just another skank-ass bitch in sweat pants.* I want more from my celebrities.

Heck, if I was famous, you'd never hear the end of it. If I was Viggo Mortenson I'd never take the freakin' sword off. Lord Aragorn, Elindel's Heir and King of Gondor, always gets a table, bro.

Can you imagine how much fun James Earl Jones must have with his answering machine? He can make Darth Vader say anything he wants. "It is as I have forseen. Leave a message after the tone. I will return your call. The circle will be complete."

Liberace had it right. Live the dream.

I guess we can add celebrity glamor to the list of things the internet has killed, just after the ability to get away with lying about trivia (damn Wikipedia!).

*Nat, babe. You know I'm kidding.

Soup Bowl!

2009-01-31T08:51:00.005-05:00

So what's the deal with this weekend? Something big is going on, there are snacks everywhere, and all these humongous guys are running around on the TV hollering "Soup Bowl! Soup Bowl!".

They're all jacked up about making the soup bowl, going to the soup bowl, or how they're going to win the soup bowl. Now during State Fair season our local potters, who are famous for their competitiveness, have been known to get a little rowdy, though I don't think it's ever come to blows. But these guys on TV act like they're gonna tear each others heads off over a soup bowl. I'm sorry, not "a" soup bowl, but "The" Soup Bowl.

At the grocery store they have a huge pyramid of chips and beer, like The Lost Temple of Solomon's Snacks to promote The Soup Bowl. Everywhere people are planning Soup Bowl menus, hosting Soup Bowl parties, or deciding which sports bar to celebrate The Soup Bowl in.
But for all the rigmarole, the hype, the hyperbole, the hoopla, I still haven't seen, heard of, or in other other way perceived a single, solitary, can, ladle, or drop of actual soup. Well I aim to fix that at my house. My Soup Bowl party is gonna be BYOS (Bring Your Own Spoon).

What's wrong with the United States

2009-01-03T14:35:00.007-05:00

Panhandles. Panhandles are an embarrassment to cartographers everywhere. Panhandles say "Here's a compromise that didn't work." They're a tribute to the petty needs of the stubborn few triumphing over common sense.

Texas and Oklahoma each have panhandles that border the other. Of course they don't get along.

I'll forgive Idaho's panhandle. Nobody there cares anyway.

Florida's panhandle is another matter altogether. If it wasn't for Mobile, Alabama would be landlocked. In fact, Mobile shamefully sits smack dab in the middle of what one could argue is the Alabama panhandle. All I'm saying is that if the Governor of Alabama were to mobilize the National Guard and march south to the Gulf of Mexico, I'd gladly look the other way. Florida should share the Gulf Coast. It's not like they're using it.

West Virginia has two panhandles. Having lived up there amongst them, all I can say is: Evolution can do mean things to people.

The attached map (which you may click to enlarge) shows my humble proposal to set things right. I've taken the liberty to address a few issues in addition to panhandles, as noted below:

1) Alabama gets full access to the sea, and helps mitigate Florida's exposure to natural disasters.
2) Oklahoma gets the Texas panhandle. Texas gets punished for having the larger of the two panhandles.
3) West Virginia cedes both panhandles. Maybe Ohio and Maryland can do something with them.
4) Michigan's upper peninsula/panhandle is absorbed by Wisconsin. It's just more tidy that way.
5) California is split into 5 states: San Francisco, Los Angeles, Northern, Central, and Southern California. The world's 7th largest economy shouldn't be concentrated in one state.
6) New England is consolidated into one state. They're still over-represented in congress.

What about Alaska's panhandles? No can do. Russia and Canada get nothing.

The above changes would serve to erase the stain of panhandles from our nation's geography. They would lead to a more orderly union, and we wouldn't even have to change the flag.

Everything's Better with Gravy

2008-11-27T10:27:00.002-05:00

Love may make the world go 'round, but gravy is what makes it worth the trip.

Today is Thanksgiving, and this year what I'm thankful for is gravy. Thick, savory, steaming gravy. Big ol' honkin' ladles of the stuff, just running over everything and pulling together the fragmented components of the traditional Thanksgiving dinner into a cohesive and tasty whole.

Gravy says relax, take off the tie, and hunker down to the chow. You're among friends.

Gravy comes in many forms. What's a salad without dressing? Naked, that's what. A sundae without fudge sauce is just a bowl of ice cream. Banana splits are loved the wide world over for not one, not two, but three kinds of gravy. Barbecue is just roasted meat until it meets the gravy.

Fries without ketchup? Hot dogs without mustard? Heavens forfend! It's all about the gravy.

* * *

I'm lucky enough to have gravy when I want, how I want, and in the quantity I want. Most people aren't so lucky. If you need a little nudge to spur your holiday/end of tax year donations read this. It's important.

I don't like things I can't pronounce

2008-08-26T20:59:00.009-04:00

Nature is a wonderful thing. When something is very bad for us, nature gives us warning. This way we know to avoid that which can destroy us or make us all itchy. Lions roar really loudly and bears have big teeth and claws, so we know to not mess with them. Some women wear way too much eye makeup so you'll know that they can and will hurt you. I once saw a day-glow orange beetle crawling across my parent's backyard in Florida. I figured nothing with coloring that bright could survive unless it was a major bad-ass, and discretion being the better part of valor, I discretely hauled my valorous backside back inside.

Nature gives clues in other ways too. One that I've noticed lately is that if I can't pronounce it, it's probably not good for me. To wit:

Foie Gras - I'm not going to talk about it. Google if you must know.

Wednesday - Wed-nez-day? No way. It should be Winds-day, and it's too far from either weekend to be useful. I vote we either get rid of it, or convert it to a middle of the week holiday.

February - Feb-ru-airy? Nope. It's Feb-yoo-wary. Too short, too cold, and more bad things have happened to me in February than the other eleven months put together. I'm bitter and it shows.

Toyota Prius - Pri-us? Pre-us? Priss? Pre-yus? Who cares! It's liberalism at it's most conspicuous. Sure they come with a stylish Obama bumper sticker, but I'm old school enough to think that bumper stickers should never be stuck over paint, only over chrome. (When was the last time they put chrome on a vehicle anyway?) That many volts passing near the cabin just has to impair driver cognition. How else do you explain that fact that Prius drivers never seem to know where they're going, and take their time getting there?

Maybe it's a Chapel Hill thing, but you can't fire duck liver out of a slingshot around here without hitting a Prius. I used to mark the spot on my morning commute where I saw the first electro-funk mobile of the day. It used to average somewhere between two and five miles from my house. Over the past year it's gone down to less than a mile. Now it's even money that I won't make it four blocks. It's almost enough to make me miss the new VW Beetles. Almost.

Crazy Eights

2008-08-08T20:18:00.005-04:00

Today is 8/8/08, one of twelve days each century when the day, month and year are all the same number. Rejoice in a phenomenon too regular to be coincidence, yet too mystical to be mundane.

I forgot to do something eight-ish in observance of the day*, but I've got a year and month and a day to get ready for Sept. 9th, 2009.

*Not entirely true... I ate a lot.

Schrodinger's Chick

2008-07-28T19:50:00.006-04:00

A friend of mine tried to explain teenage girls to me once. He started out with, "How well do you know quantum physics?" Umm, well there are these quark thingies and... Fortunately he interrupted me before I could embarrass myself further. I sure as heck didn't understand teenage girls when I was a teenager, and I don't understand them now, even though a great many harvests have come and gone since then.

He continued. "It's like Schrodinger's Cat."

"Oh yeah, the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle and all that." I relaxed, back on slightly more familiar ground.

"Right" my friend went on, "there's no way to know the state of the item in question without observing it, so you can consider it to be in a mix of all possible states until you actually observe it and it resolves to a single state."

The light went on! Girls, and by extension Women, exist is a great many states all at once, and it's only when you open your big fat mouth and say something do they note that they are being observed and resolve into a single state. To wit:

You're hanging out with your sister, lady friend, paramour, soul-mate, whomever, and things are fairly amiable. This is too good to last.

Out of the blue she hits you with: "Do these jeans make me look fat?", confirming that you don't have to be psychic to know the day, hour, and minute of the apocalypse. "It's a nice world, and I'd rather stay in it for a little while longer" you think to yourself. So you mutter something unintelligible but vaguely upbeat and hope that something distracting will happen. Like maybe Hillary Clinton will burst into the room screaming "Oh my God! I love what you've done with the colors in here! I must have you on my committee!"

No such luck, and she fires the fat jeans question back at you, along with a look that says, "If you break eye-contact without giving me an answer you're going to be able to hit all the high notes in The Star Spangled Banner."

Now realize that up until this point her behind has been both narrow and wide, fat and thin, Humpty and Dumpty. But now it's going to resolve. And as often happens when matter changes state on a quantum level, it's going to release a startling amount of energy. Almost certainly in your direction.

It's the simultaneous need for, and abhorrence of, being observed that drives the teenage soul. The only question more terrifying than "What if somebody sees me?" is "What if nobody notices me?". Maybe that's why cell phones and facebook are so popular with the acne-and-hormones crowd. They get to see and be seen more often, but at a lower, less volatile, intensity.

* * *

They say youth is wasted on the young. Buuuuullshit. You can have it. I say middle-age is where it's at. I'm at the top of the bell-curve, and the view is spectacular.

I don't have to impress anybody - I'm already married. I can cruise grocery store with a terminal case of bed-head, in swimming trunks and mismatched plaid socks, and nobody will say a word about it. Heck, people under thirty can hardly even see me at all. Best of all, it's my generation's music they're playing in the check out line.

"Hey, Honey! Remember those shirts that were so popular twelve years ago? This one still fits!" My wife would say "Cool!" and congratulate me on the money I'm saving. No one who subscribes to Maxim can say that.

Necessity is a Mother

2008-07-23T18:12:00.003-04:00

Here's my gift to Humanity, free of any patents, licenses, or other encumbrances on productivity:

1) Take a piece of 4x4 post
2) Drill holes in it slightly larger than your skewers
3) Put your skewers in the holes, pointy side up
4) Stick all sorts of grillable noshes on the skewers
5) Marvel at how much time you saved vs handling all the skewers each time you wanted to poke something tasty on them.

If the MacArthur Foundation calls, I'll be on the deck.

There's procrastination, and then there's this...

2008-06-15T21:57:00.006-04:00

When we moved back from Auburn in the fall of 2006 I found my recipe folder and thought it would be a good idea to get them all into the computer so I wouldn't lose them. Seems I've been paving the road to hell for nigh on a year and a half now. Maybe that should bother me more than it does.

Maybe not.

Yes, I use Outlook. I'm sure there are better email clients out there, but other than being a slow resource hog, it hasn't given me sufficient motivation to switch. Also, Spambayes (which is brilliant!) has an Outlook plug-in, so I don't deal with spam, potted meat, or Vienna sausages. I had a bad experience once involving too many Vienna sausages and a swing set when I was a little boy. Suffice it to say that I don't eat them anymore.

The best interface is no interface

2008-06-08T21:24:00.010-04:00

I found a bunch of those self-contained LED walkway lights on sale at Target. For two bucks I got a solar cell, an LED, a AA Ni-Cd battery, and some circuit-stuff so it can turn itself on at night and off during the day. What a bargain for me.

This isn't really a "Make", it's more of a re-make. A re-tasking, if you will. Except that I never had any intention of using the lights for their intended task. Oh well, let the philosopher kings bandy about the semantics, I just like to solder stuff.

I painted the inside of a mason jar with glass-frosting paint (from my local craft/home improvement store), chopped off the bits from the light housing that I didn't want, unsoldered the solar cell wires, ran them through a hole I poked in the lid, and reconnected them. Then I sealed the whole thing up with copious amounts of hot glue and Robert's my Father's Brother.

Leave the jar out in the sun and the battery charges. When it's dark the light shines. No switches, no ethernet connection, no $25 iPod recharge cable. It just does what it's supposed to do, when it's supposed to do it.

There are links to other things I've made under "Escaped Inventions" to the right.

With Guilt, Shame and Remorse to make it complete

2008-06-08T21:14:00.005-04:00

I know they mean well. Free Range Chickens and all that. But for The Love Of Pete they could hold the irony until after I've had my breakfast...

Indiana Jones and The Zimmer Frame of Doom

2008-05-27T18:53:00.007-04:00

I haven't seen the current Indiana Jones flick, so don't take the title as a slam on Harrison Ford or the movie franchise. Ok, you can take it as a slam on Temple of Doom, but I think everyone here would rather pretend it just didn't happen. What I'm trying to talk about, and will get to eventually, is the power of marketing not only to shape our perceptions, but the fabric of the very reality in which we sit. Note to those of you who stand while reading the internet: Siddown!

For the past few days I haven't been able to move the left side of my face. [Don't Panic. They think it's Bell's Palsy, and temporary.] No particular reason, really, I just lost a little function Friday night, and by Saturday it felt like I'd just come home from the Dentist in a tingly-novacaine-about-to-wear-off kinda way. The odd twist came when I realized that my left cheek and surrounding area wasn't numb, it was paralyzed, in an Hey-My-Face-Doesn't-Work-Anymore kinda way. To stifle the immediate reaction of an undisclosed number of You People out there, I am aware that there are some for whom my face has never worked. However, it has always worked for me. (And for Steffi Graf? You'll have to ask her. That's all I've got to say about that.) Now hush.

Faces are, on the (and when) whole, wonderfully handy things. Handsome faces even more so. Being able to blink your eye fully closed keeps it moist and irritant free. Being able to control your lips helps you spit instead of slobber, smile instead of smirk, clearly annunciate your bilabial aspirated fricatives, and keeps other people from fleeing the table when you're eating soup. It also allows you to kiss beyond Junior High School Level. On the other hand, my hopefully temporary partial paralysis has done wonders for my Elvis impersonation*, and my People's Eyebrow has never been more convincing.

Faces also sell things. Babies learn early early on to zero in on Mom's face. It makes everyone smile (another facial skill) and the little tyke gets what he needs. And a baby that can do his own smiling can make even the coldest, meanest, orneriest sumbich melt like a Nazi in an Indiana Jones movie.

So when Harrison Ford's face shows up on a movie poster under the Leather Fedora, we whip out the cash and troop to the theater like good little drones. Because the marketing folks know what we like. Of course they know, they trained us. More to the point, when Harrison Ford's face shows up on a Snicker's Bar, we whip out the bucks and buy them too. But it's not just a candy bar. Not with Harrison Ford's mug on the wrapper. It's an "Adventure Bar". How about that?

So let me see. I can either swing through the mosquito infested rain forest, tracking down some antiquity of inscrutable origin and even more unfathomable evil, pursued all the while by Nazi's, henchmen, savage monkeys, (did I mention mosquitoes?), and I don't know what-all, OR (and here's where I get back to marketing like I promised) I can just eat a candy bar and have: Exactly. The. Same. Experience. Hmmm. Risk dismemberment, consumption, partial facial paralysis, or eat a Candy, no, Adventure Bar? Geez Monty, that's a tough one. Let me get back to ya. I got a guy on the other line about a set of white-walls.

*"Thank ya. Thank ya very much. Hey... uh.. C-can I get some more gravy on this?"

Food Groups

2008-05-14T22:10:00.006-04:00

Snacks can be classified by how well they balance the four basic food groups: sugar, salt, fat, and caffeine. Any decent junk food has two of the four. Doritos: Salt and fat. Coke: Sugar and caffeine. Add a third and the value goes up dramatically. Chocolate: Sugar, fat and caffeine. Yumm-tasty!

Achieving casual nosh-nirvana isn't as easy as just gobbing on the goo. I almost found the courage to try a deep fried snickers bar at the state fair this year, but my gall bladder clenched up and wouldn't let go of my esophagus until I'd cleared the exit. On the other hand, peanut butter chocolate chip rice crispy treats are quite tasty. That 255 mg of sodium in one cup of Rice Krispies sure cranks up the old blood pressure in the morning, and peanut butter hits the trifecta [FAT, SALT, SUGAR] all by its lonesome.

The best I've been able to do is the humble offering below, which would have won a ribbon at the state fair if those old biddies hadn't let them dry out for two days before proclaiming them "good flavor, but dry". Well, Thank you Martha Stewart! They were left out for two freakin' days! Geeeee-zus! I'm sure the Queen was all over the Royal Catering Society to get Princess Di's wedding cake finished and set out in the sun a full 48 hours before the reception so it would have time to properly cure. Lord. Ham. Mercy.

So here's the recipe for Tom's No Bake Ultimate Hell-Raise Peanut Butter Fudge Oatmeal Cookies (AKA Horse Patties). By the way you can either take my advice and eat them when they're barely cool enough, or follow the lead of The North Carolina State Fair Old Bat's Committee to Frustrate Aspiring Bakers Who Really Have Better Things to Do With Their Time But Figure What the Heck I'll Give it a Go Just for Fun and Defenders of Traditional Country Women's Domain (wow, it's hard to type with this much blood deforming my eyeballs from within) We'll Teach Those... Those Men to Stay Out of Our Kitchens and Sit Back Down in Front of the Television Where They Belong and let them dessicate on the sidewalk in front of your flat for a fortnight or so.

Am I bitter? No, I'm angry.

Tom's No Bake Ultimate Hell-Raise Peanut Butter Fudge Oatmeal Cookies (AKA Horse Patties)

2 Cups sugar [SUGAR]
1 1/2 Stick of Butter [FAT, SALT]
1/2 Cup Milk [FAT]

3 TableSpoons Cocoa [CAFFEINE]
1/2 Cup Peanut Butter [FAT, SALT, SUGAR]
1 TableSpoon Vanilla Extract [Smells nice]

3 Cups Quick Oats [Takes up space]
1/2 Cup Sweetened Coconut [FAT, SUGAR]

Heat the Sugar, Butter and Milk slowly in a large saucepan, gently stirring until it starts to boil. Reduce heat slightly and let boil gently for 3 minutes without stirring. (This keeps it from hardening too much later. If it's boiling too violently, just remove it from the heat.)

Quickly stir in Cocoa and Peanut Butter. When combined, remove from heat and stir in the Vanilla Extract, the Coconut, and then add the Quick Oats a cup at a time.

Distribute on wax paper, let cool, then consume.

Makes two cookies. One to eat and one to share.

Road Tunes

2008-05-14T20:47:00.002-04:00

One of the reasons I really like my car stereo is that it plays mp3 and wmv files. Which means I can put all of my Paul Thorn albums on one disk, and not have to shuffle them in traffic. I suppose I'm a luddite for even owning CDs, but I'm not inclined to cough up the bucks to Bill's Evil Coupertino Twin until he can promise me he won't take my music away.

I snapped this horridly appropos picture as I was leaving work after a long day.

I'm a #9 Curly McCoy

2008-05-01T20:58:00.008-04:00

Myers-Briggs don't know nuthin'. It doesn't matter if you're Empathic-Aggressive, Extroverted-Logical, Effusive-Misanthropic or any other useless combination of terms slapped together by The Man. What matters is your position on the Stooge-Trek Matrix. Line up your favorite Stooge with your favorite Trek-guy and all will be revealed.

#1 Moe Kirk: You're a bossy, philandering, control freak. You mete out destruction when you don't get your way. Everyone still likes you, despite your hair.

#2 Larry Kirk: You have a Walter Middy-esque fantasy life. Outwardly reserved and loyal, you'd be a leader if you weren't such a great target.

#3 Curly Kirk: Chaos follows in your wake. The center of attention, you'll go over, under, around, or preferably through, all obstacles.

#4 Moe Spock: It's no coincidence they had the same hair cut. MoeSpocks are smart, and hindered only by their smug sense of superiority.

#5 Larry Spock: You're a right-hand man all the way. An indispensable Man-Friday. Many US Vice Presidents were LarrySpocks.

#6 Curly Spock: Full of contradictions, you struggle to control your inner demon-child, and rationalize the occasional odd outburst.

#7 Moe McCoy: A meticulous neat freak. You do things by the book, regardless of which book it happens to be.

#8 Larry McCoy: Sensitive and artistic, you're happiest alone or in small groups. Music is your life.

#9 Curly McCoy: You do it all in the name of misapplied science. You mix chemicals just to see which ones blow up.

Save the Zero!

2008-04-17T22:40:00.004-04:00

I've made a personal lifestyle choice. I've decided to see if I can go the rest of my life without using the zero button on the microwave. Now, it would be ironic if I were struck down by a rogue meteor before tomorrow morning's Pop-Tart. Ironic and painful. But wait, isn't irony only for the unexpected? Since I'm sending this out to the world, one can hardly now consider the rogue meteor "unexpected", which would make it cliched, rather than ironic. So I must be safe, as I avoid cliches like the plague. Ooh, you say, a sudden plague would be more than a little ironic, wouldn't it? Dang. I'm not gonna sleep tonight.

Anyhow, back to the microwave. I've recently started to notice that the zero is always the most worn button on any microwave control pad. It gets more use than "Popcorn", and for no good reason. It gives one a useless illusion of precision, nothing more. Who's to say you should nukulate that slice of pizza for 60 seconds, rather than 55 or 66? If you forswear the naught button, you'll be off by no more than 10%, and it's a 50/50 chance that it'll be an improvement. So stop kidding yourself. Try 53 seconds sometime. 11 seconds is almost 10, plus you save the time you would have spent finding zero with your finger. In that split second you just might be struck with the inspiration of what to say to that fetching, raven haired beauty who's presence overwhelms your basic motor skills and who's absence haunts your sleepless nights. Hint: "Hey" has always worked for me.

By "worked" I mean elicited no reaction whatsoever.

I don't expect you to follow my path unless you feel it in the depth of your being. Don't do it for me. Do it for yourself.

Office Pets

2008-04-17T22:29:00.003-04:00

My office sea monkeys have produced a second generation. I wonder what sort of mutations we got this time. Code monkeys perhaps? Hmmm... I wonder if they know sea sharp? Probably not; I expect they'd stay away from dot net.

Meanwhile, the hexbot I solared-up continues to revel in the morning sunshine.

This One's Too Easy

2008-04-17T22:26:00.001-04:00

No Nada No More

2008-03-30T21:23:00.003-04:00

Too many projects, too little time. Here's a list of the cool things I'd rather be doing than sitting on the couch, plotzed after a long day. Or should I say after the 45 min commute after a long day. Maybe it's the getting up at 6:15 that's doing it. At least it's not age. I know it's not age. Just like I know it's not crappy diet, lack of exercise, lack of gumption, and absolutely, positively, without a doubt Mr. Congressmen I can say unequivocally that the problem lies far outside the realm of sleep deprivation.

Remember all those times when you were a kid, and you'd whine around the house that you were bored? BORED? Hell, I haven't been bored since January 7th, 2001. (Right before my wife told me we were expecting.) If I could go back in time I'd slap my freakin' face off. Nowadays I *dream* of being bored. Sometimes I sneak out of work just to sit in the Dentist's office. They ask me when my appointment is, and I say, "Oh, not for another few months, but don't worry about me, I'm fine just sitting here." They look at me like I'm wearing a fish for a hat, because they don't appreciate the sublime joy of being bone idle. Disengaged. Off line. Non tasked. I'm talking as unoccupied as the Bates Hotel after Norman took his state-sponsored sabbatical.

Part of the problem is that new problems are more attractive than old ones. If the world would just slow the (Sweet Molly O'Grady! I almost dropped the F Bomb) down, maybe I could catch up.

Anyhow, one day I'd like to teach my PC to play a decent game of GEV. Then I'd have something to do when I'm bored.

Workin' for The Man

2008-03-13T20:43:00.003-04:00

It's a bit of a tradition for me to not work on ACC Tournament Friday, but this year I've got both a real job and way too much on my plate to justify taking even a half day off to watch basketball on TV. Even if I could take a half day off I'd drive down to my Dad's and wish him Happy Birthday instead. (Happy Birthday Dad! Einstein didn't get all the March 14th Brains.)

As it is, I'll just post this rough composite photo from last December in the Dean Dome. Though the game was a partial sellout, there was a pretty good crowd. We just like to show up early and nosh the sumptuous grindage we call Dean Cuisine.

The long and winding road

2008-03-13T20:37:00.003-04:00

My opponent's vicious mudslinging attacks aside, I do have a life even when I'm not writing about it. Here are some of the places I've been in the past few months. By "few" I mean five or six.

Robots and Eggs endorses McCain

2008-01-05T10:55:00.000-05:00

People get the government they deserve.

Pick the issues you care about, do some real research, and vote.

Hold the Mayo!

2007-12-24T14:18:00.000-05:00

Heaven only knows what they're putting in mayonnaise these days.

I'm just sayin'.

Time Changes Everything

2007-12-02T10:35:00.000-05:00

Maybe it's just me, but Halloween Jack-O-Lanterns are scarier on Thanksgiving.

Another One Bites the Dust

2007-11-18T10:59:00.000-05:00

I checked off another of the ten things I want to finish by the end of the year. A friend of mine had an old circuit board he wanted framed as a keepsake. I volunteered (last March) and though it really didn't take that much total time, there were long intervals where I was doing other things. Today I am pleased to announce it's completion.

There is a row of green LEDs along the top inside the frame that give it a cool greenish glow at night. But it doesn't photograph well with my punky camera and even punkier photographic skills.

Still, I am pleased. Phone is hacked. Circuit board mounted and ready for delivery. Bathroom tile in the hands of a professional. Three down, seven to go.

RAZR HAXOR REX

2007-11-17T17:16:00.000-05:00

So I had to flip a few bits and edit a config file to transfer MY photos from MY phone to MY computer. I dream of world where people don't intentionally cripple their products to exploit bogus revenue streams. I dream of worlds with free ice cream too. And sprinkles. Lots of sprinkles.

2007-11-03T09:56:00.000-04:00

this is a spiffy test document to post to my blog

I like it!

I can post directly from google docs to my blog. Bichin!

(The above image brought to you by Tom's UltraCorps combat simulator, which may just be out in time for the holidays! By "holidays" I mean Elvis's birthday.

Halleluja! Thank You Jesus! Praise the Lord! I'm Still Here!

2007-10-29T09:16:00.000-04:00

So, how was your summer?

Good. Mine was good too. Moved into the new office. Went to the beach. Harvested the crops. Got a Hybrid (avg 48 mpg without ac, 45 with). Saw Paul Thorn in Charlotte. Grilled foodstuffs. A friend loaned me the Firefly DVD set. Hawsome. If TV was that good more often, I'd watch it.

Why did I not blog for five months? Mostly because I don't have it together enough to keep a camera with me for those all important illustrations. I've been too busy/lame to hack my cell phone so I can get MY pictures off of MY phone without paying extra for THEIR BS data service. It's not the money that bothers me, it's the principle that I own the content that I create, and I own the phone that I created with it. I didn't buy a license to use their phone to take pictures that they can sell back to me. I bought the damn phone. It's mine. Period.

So until I violate some firmware you'll just have to close your eyes and imagine a pleasing juxtaposition of items from my odd, but mostly benign existence. Or check out the spiffy NANOWRIMO icon, as I'm giving it another shot this year. Be patient if you click it for their servers walk not the path of the Jedi.

You can stop sending those petitions

2007-05-23T12:52:00.001-04:00

North Carolina can rest easy now; because, finally, Fried Balogna has come back to Burlington!

Everybody knows hot food is better and more nutritious than cold food. So it stands to reason that a traditionally cold food (bologna, which lives way way down at the bottom of the cold-cut food chain) is better, and better for you, when it's hot. And what better way to heat something than to fry it? For it's the patented frying process that allows all those savory bologna juices to emerge and claim their rightful place in the Alamance County Pantheon of Foods. Meat, and uh... stuff, deemed substandard by the hot dog industry (holy crap!), is reground to a finer paste, then extruded as big rubbery cylinder that rises above it's humble, no... meager? no... wretched? Yes, Wretched! beginnings upon contact with the frying pan and earns a spot in the biscuits of discriminating epicureans of the North Carolina highways.

Now that they accept credit cards, one can even finance fried bologna. Hmm, how would you list that in the monthly budget?

There's Something Out There

2007-03-29T22:03:00.000-04:00

I'm one of those people who often falls into a rut and doesn't realize it for a long time. When things don't change, my perceptions get lazy and I am less likely to notice what little there is going on around me, which makes the my rut deeper and harder to snap out of.

It's a self-reinforcing cycle.

The upside is that when I do finally drag myself out of it the world is made all the more glorious for its sometimes tiny swirls of order and chaos.

You don't see what I see.

Rain Maker 3000

2007-03-18T19:24:00.000-04:00

Expect unprecedented rain and clouds over central North Carolina for the next few months. I've just completed my new solar oven, a more durable version of this guy . Made of plywood and acrylic mirrors, the Rain Maker 3000 is sure to bring down soggy gloom on all your outdoor cooking efforts. The fact that I was able to set it up for a few minutes this afternoon only shows how nature loves to taunt us.

I still need to insulate the oven box, and find a good seal for the glass top, so all those precious BTUs I've worked so hard to collect will stay in the oven and actually cook something. Further updates as events warrant.

To go boldly where no man has gone before...

2007-03-15T20:58:00.000-04:00

They'll split my infinitive when they pry it from my cold dead larynx.

Back when the solar system was young, there was life in my back yard. That was thousands of dollars ago. Now that the trees are gone and the long, dark, brutal North Carolina winter is coming to an end, it's time to grow grass.

Yeah, right.

I could step out there right now, put a shovel in the ground, and come up with a big scoop of clay that you could throw, fire, glaze, and would last a thousand years. There are no organic components to that "soil", unless you count the two crickets and 40-odd ants that have freakin' starved to death trying to cross that vast, barren, unforgiving wasteland.

Back in Auburn all I needed was a few bags of composted cow manure.

This time I'll need a cow. Maybe a bison.

Sweet Success

2007-02-15T14:37:00.000-05:00

Back when I was a young single guy living under a rock, Feb 15th was Half Price Valentine's Day Candy Day, and I'd reward my restraint by snarfing down double rations of the chocolate covered goodness. I thought it was pretty clever to get twice the goodies just by waiting one extra day.

Now that I'm, uh, wiser, I've come to realize the benefits that come with marriage and family. Specifically, that one can score seriously more sucrose-based nodules by being the only guy in a house full of chicks. All you have to do is establish the tradition that everyone gives everyone else Valentine's Day Candy, and the box count increases exponentially with the size of the family. As the only male in the household, it's my right, nay, my solemn duty, to save them from eating too much chocolate. I expect the violent involuntary shaking of my hands and limbs is burning off most of the calories anyway.

Old Mexico never tasted like this

2007-01-26T07:52:00.000-05:00

Maybe really, really Old Mexico...

Just a reminder that anything still in your refrigerator from before Christmas, Kwanza and definately Channukah is now officially OLD. Even if you're Agnostic, Pagan, Believin' Atheist, or just too freakin' lazy to comptemplate your place in the world, contemplate this: Gazillions of those hairy, squishy, greenish grey bacterial buggers have been camping out for more than a month on what used to be your food. Eating, growing, multiplying, expanding in such a way as to... Well, you know what happens to food *after* it's been eaten, right? Right.

Now the more frugal of you may be tempted to scarf down the borderline items right before they cross the finish line. This can lead to Dangerous Combinations of things that, individually, may be food, but when combined undergo a nauseous metamorphosis that transcends culinary description and ventures into That Which Man Was Not Meant To Taste. Please, act responsibly. You only have one set of tastebuds, and they have to last your whole life.

Art is where you find it

2007-01-19T23:18:00.000-05:00

...and sometimes art finds you. I could have taken a better picture, but I was too busy Rocking Out. Maybe one day, if you're really good, eat your Wheaties, and say your prayers, Paul Thorn will come to your town.

Snow Day!

2007-01-18T18:45:00.000-05:00

Ah, Snow Days. Those precious gifts bestowed upon us by a fickle Mother Nature, perhaps in atonement for rainy days at the beach, that spooky calm outside that starts when you tie the line to your new kite, or the dark looming clouds racing over the horizon when you just want to test out this really cool idea in your new solar oven, BUT NOOOOO!!!! That old hag has nothing better to do with her freakin' air pressure gradients than billow huge, grim, Old Testament, impenetrable clouds all ---

Ahem.

When you're a kid, a Snow Day is a free pass. Maybe you haven't finished your mobile for Ancient Greece Week, or Rudy Gimleson is going to pound you after 4th period because somebody told him you looked at his car wrong. Whatever's ailing you, a Snow Day is the cure.

Unless, of course, you work at home. In which case you have to sneak out early so you can be back at your desk by 9am.

I'm just saying is all.

Marketing 101

2007-01-18T18:20:00.000-05:00

I majored in Mathematics, not Marketing, which means that I didn't wear Ray Bans, drink all weekend, or hang out with guys named "Ralston Q Parkersmith III, but everybody calls me Spaulding". I'm not exactly a people-person. I'm more of a person-person. This is a good thing, because I'm uncomfortable with (ie annoyed by) those who refer to themselves in the plural. It also should serve as an indication that if you need to unload 457 metric tons of second-hand snow on Nanook's Home and Garden Supply, I'm not the one to consult. But even one as socially and sociologically unaware as I, has no trouble recognizing why the New Hampshire segment of the Chinese Food Industry is struggling. (Photo taken through the car window while on Christmas vacation.)

This quiz has one question and counts for 100% of your grade for this course. I hope you didn't stay up all night studying when you could have been shotgunning Goebels with Ralston Q and The Buds.

Obey Giant

2006-12-27T17:29:00.000-05:00

Even in New Hampshire, Andre has a posse. I snapped this shot of the side of an abandoned light industrial building. The intertubes snake their way around the world and into the New England zeitgeist*. If this were a wider angle photo you might be surprised by the lack of snow.

*Sorry. I just wanted to be one of those guys who can casually toss a really pretentious word like "zeitgeist" into his blog once in awhile.

Melvin goes shopping

2006-12-25T15:59:00.000-05:00

Melvin found an open shop on level 4, even though it's Christmas! They didn't have much, 2 lamps that when rubbed turned out to not be magic, and an extra food ration. The shop was a nice place to read a scroll (enchant weapon) and try on the dwarven cloak which turned out to be +1.

Now he's on dungeon level 6, as a level 6 Bachelor with armor class -1 and a +3 long sword. With only apples and carrots for sustanence, Melvin remains optimistic though a bit peckish.

Further updates as events warrant.

Melvin of the Apes

2006-12-23T14:09:00.000-05:00

So...

Well, you know how it is. Things get sorta hectic and there's work stuff and suddenly the tree crew is hauling huge oaks out of your backyard on this awesome tracked vehicle with an hydraulic claw, and the cat kinda freaks out and darts past the dishwasher repairman and hides under the car and by the time you've grabbed her and hauled her back inside it turns out to be just a switch next to the garbage disposal so you've still got time to decorate cookies and make it to the basketball game. Which is cool because you've done most of your shopping and wrapped stuff so you can leave it in the closet when you go to Southern Pines, where it will stay (in the closet I mean) until sometime in 2007 (see Casino Royale by the way) and you can make it back down and give it to your Dad so it can rain all the way back home like it did 3 or 4 times in a row until last time, when the weather was just a little bit nicer than it was for the flight to Boston which was actually very smooth, maybe because we approached Logan from the west instead of over Boston Harbor and it wasn't as turbulent so we actually made it to NH ahead of the presents which showed up the next day for the most part thanks to UPS who's logistics rock on toast.

I totally reamed out my laptop and put on a fresh windows install and an extra 256MB of memory, so it feels like a much faster machine now. If your windows install is more than 18 months old, I highly recommend it.

I'm playing Slash-EM (Super Lots of Added Stuff Hack - Enhanced Magic) this holiday season. Let me introduce you to Melvin. He's a Lawful Male Human Knight. He has a horse, but he's around a corner right now so we can't see him. Melvin is trying to recover the Amulet of Yendor (somewhere below level 25 of the dungeon). He's not the brightest guy in the world, but what he lacks in brains he makes up for in shortness.

Gotta go wrap presents soon. Melvin says "Hey."

Pumpkin Pi

2006-10-31T19:09:00.000-05:00

There are no holidays that cannot be enhanced by math puns.

A Lot of Good Reasons

2006-10-13T11:53:00.000-04:00

The Wife's out of town, time for steak, egg and cheese biscuits! Uh... maybe just one.

It's Friday the 13th, and that means good luck for Tom. I found a new Jimmy Buffett album in the bookstore this morning. My head has been buried in the sand of work and obligation for so long that I didn't even know one was coming out. I just popped in to get A Prairie Home Companion and there it was on the new releases shelf. As a bonus, there was a new Neil Gaiman collection as well. Barbeque for lunch and all is right with the world.

Nothin' But the Devil

2006-10-10T09:51:00.000-04:00

Font smoothing is the root of all evil. I spent the bulk of yesterday tracking down a bug that had to do with black and white bitmaps of text not being black and white anymore due to "font smoothing". Font Smoothing. Like that's going to solve the world's problems.

Great Scott!

Where does it end?

Note:

This entry brought to you by Mr. Grumpy-Drawers.

The Paul Thorn rock out marathon is no longer counted in hours. It is now a state of being.

National Novel Writing Month starts in three weeks. I'm gonna finish this time, or at least eclipse my paltry 6500 word effort of last year. I'm thinking I'm busier this year, so I'll get more done.

Speaking of which...

Where was I ?

2006-10-05T09:17:00.000-04:00

Current Desk Inventory:

Two monitors (one 20" LCD with dual inputs, and an old 17" CRT), three mice, three keyboards, three thermal printers, one ink jet printer, one LCD signature pad, one signature pad without display, one laptop, two Windows XP Pro PCs, one Debian Linux PC, a wireless router, a scanner, a seven format memory card reader, and two USB memory keys.

So Tom, tell us why you only had one blog entry in September. Huh? Why?

* * *

You know what I like about libraries and bookstores? They're full of possibilities. Stories, ideas, new technology, answers to questions great and small, are all laid out before you. Of course, it takes some commitment to follow through and read the book or try the idea or build the gadget. That commitment comes at the price of the exclusion of other wonderful possibilites. But while you're there, reading titles and scanning tables of contents, the world, everything in it and beyond, is in reach.

Sure Sign

2006-09-08T16:35:00.000-04:00

So I'm wondering around the house, trying to figure out what a "Path Error (-4)" could really mean, since it's not in the documentation and seems to have nothing to do with paths, when I step into the bedroom and see a unicorn head peeking out at me from under the covers. Light headed and dizzy, I slump to the floor, wondering which of her many offers was the one I Couldn't Refuse but did anyway.

Was it when she cheerfully volunteered to work the gas and break pedals with her hands while I steered the car? How about the time she said she'd be happy to cook strawberry cake with tofu icing and cheese for dinner? "Lawd ham mercy" I thought to myself, "I'm toast if I don't figure out what I did or didn't do."

"How's Tom?"

"Oh Tom... won't see him no more."

In a cold sweat I rack my brains, wondering which slight sent her over the edge. Kindergarteners can be so touchy sometimes. Maybe it was because I wouldn't let her watch movies all night and eat blueberries and cupcakes until the sun came up.

I gathered up my courage, walked into her room, kissed the big pink plastic gem on her Disney Princess ring, and asked her what I had done to cause her such unhappiness, and how could I make amends. With a casual wave of her hand she replies, "Oh, Mommy and I were just playing 'Unicorn Vetrinarian'".

As Vito himself used to say, "Women and children can be careless, but not men."

That's all I know right now

2006-08-30T08:43:00.000-04:00

Let's take a moment to talk about Personal Health and Beauty Product Packaging.

If you're like most people, and most people are, you're not exactly at your cognative peak when you stagger into your morning shower. I'm lucky to remember that cold water knob is on the left, and the hot on the right. At least I think so. Actually, I usually stand outside the shower and freeze until I get the temperature right. Once bitten, twice shy and all that. As further evidence of a depreciated mental state, I somehow think that this would be a good time to drag a pair of razor blades over my face and neck. When the bleeding is mostly staunched I'm faced with selecting each of the the pictured products and applying same to their associated body parts. Kind of like a multiple choice quiz, but with hygenic consequences.

Which brings me back to the packaging of these items. I realize that all of the marketing computers are telling these companies the same things about the size, shape, and color of package that appeals most to the discerning super market shopper. But for the love of Pete, could you please agree on a level of variation that will make it less likely for people like me to find out just what exactly 2.54 ounces of "Gillette(R) Series(tm) after shave gel sensative skin" tastes like?

I need a new toothbrush and a haircut.

Resurrection Day

2006-08-28T20:43:00.000-04:00

Ahhh. My office is Carolina Blue. My whiteboards are up. All is right with the world. My new pack of disposable razors even claims to have a "Soft Ultragrip". I'm on the top of the heap, baby.

Ain't Livin' in Sin No More

2006-08-19T16:10:00.000-04:00

Ever hear the phrase "Ugly as Homemade Sin"? Thanks to the fine professional gentlemen who have consented to paint our house in exchange for certain financial considerations, we are well on our way to asthetic normalcy. Yee-hah!

The living room and dining room are done. The other rooms are full of boxes covered in plastic, awaiting the return of a more palatable palatte. My office is still Navy Blue since they're saving the wallpapered rooms for last. It will be wonderful when the painting is finished and we can finally unpack. Mmmmm, domestic tranquility. Isn't there something in the Constitution about that? We need an ammendment regarding the colors tenants are and are not allowed to use in rented houses...

I thought the wife would be the one who was most aggrieved by our home's interior tragedy. Oddly, I'm the on who's most disturbed by it. But do I complain? Hell yes!

I'm holed up this weekend hosting a marathon programming party. I'm also the only guest. Still, it's nice to be able to cross off big chunks of my task list. PDF file generators fear me.

More next time I take a break. For now I'm back at it...

BlackRainbow

2006-08-12T23:26:00.000-04:00

Well, we're back. They painted the interior of the house, except where it needed it...

I think these tragic pictures speak for themselves.

We're settling in. The water heater blew up this morning, right after the toilet broke. They tell me the events were not related. I'm not so sure.

Things Left Undone

2006-07-30T19:49:00.000-04:00

Paul Thorn Rock-Out Marathon hour 1295, and packing is nearly finished. Just the last minute sweeps of the rooms, pack up the computer, and stow the bed linens in the morning.

You'll have to use your imagination kiddies, the camera, card reader, and usb cables are all packed. Besides, one empty house looks pretty much like another. Right now an empty house looks pretty good.

Avast me hearties! Tomorrow we sail fer home!

800 Pound Jesus

2006-07-18T10:23:00.000-04:00

More like: "9,700 pounds? Jesus!"

Packing continues.

(Paul Thorn rock out marathon hour 997)

Every little bit hurts

2006-07-16T14:56:00.000-04:00

Paul Thorn rock-out marathon hour 954.

There are few immutable rules in life. One of them is: If it stings Tom, it dies.

There was (note the clever foreshadowing provided by the past tense) a wasp nest in the car port last week. I didn't think much of it; live and let live. Until I was trying to get some boxes out of the back seat of the car, and a wasp flies down and bounces off my UNC hat...

"That was kinda wierd. (Gears slowly grinding into motion) They must not like me being so close to their nest in a bright orange Auburn TShirt. (Gears emmiting horrible screeching noise as they gain momentum) I'd better get these boxes out of the car (Gears spinning freely, finally up to speed) before, OWW!! That *%^&ing little son of a *%&#$ing &%^$ *#&^%#$er stung me!" And it hurt too. Not as bad as some stories would have you believe, but it's by no means pleasant.

It's also interesting to note that while it failed to penetrate my UNC hat, it had no trouble piercing my flesh through an Auburn shirt.

Heels: 1

Tigers/WarEagles/WhateverThey'reCallingThemselvesThisWeek: 0.

So I popped out to the grocery store that night and invested in a can of pressurized and highly potent neurotoxins, developed by member of my species for the express purpose of eleminating members of his species. Heh. I got your food chain right here pal. Long story short: Who would you put your money on, the species that builds their houses out of paper, or the one that builds their houses out of concrete and steel?

Double Wide Paradise

2006-07-13T10:22:00.000-04:00

Paul Thorn rock-out marathon hour 877.

I have lots of things to write about when I'm too busy to write about them. Thus, no entries for five weeks.

The beach was awesome, as usual. Communed with four of the five nephews. Hung out with siblings. Told bad jokes with my Dad. Took a stack of books that I didn't get to open. Got some kites in the air. Consumed much tasty comestabilia*. Ate NC Barbeque three times. Had taffy and orange sherbert on a porch swing with the spousal unit. Generally decompressed at a time when decompression was called for.

*You may know this as food. Hmm, maybe "comestabilia" should be food that you take home as a souvenir, like a doggie bag?

Everybody Looks Good at the Starting Line

2006-06-06T21:56:00.000-04:00

Paul Thorn rock out marathon, hour 126 and counting...

I didn't notice until after I took this picture how similar Paul Thorn and Marshall Crenshaw are. By similar I mean they both wear hats. They're both modern analogs of Rock Icons (Elvis and Buddy Holly, respectively). And so far they've both failed to pierce the ear-wax and crushed-Pringle's crust of popular culture. So be it.

Rock lives.

Reason #31 to move back to Carrboro: Paul Thorn has played the Cat's Cradle each of the last two years, including last April, before I saw the light.

One of the cool things about programming is that I can listen to music while I do it. It keeps the distractable (touchy-feely, artsy, Dr. McCoy) side of my brain busy so the other (analytical, logical, Mr. Spock) side can get things done.

Back in the days when I actually played CDs, instead of ripping them to the computer and playing the file, I would measure time by how many I'd gone through while programming. I'd put a stack of a half-dozen or so at the left of my keyboard, pop the first one in the drive and start to work. When the stack was gone, it was time to eat. When I got back, I'd set up the stack again and when I'd played them all it was time to go home (or if we were in a crunch it was time to eat again, and after the third time through it was definately time to go home, because I was forgetting to deallocate my pointers.

I have very strong associations between certain times of my life and the albums I was listening to at the time. Waiting on the porch for the mail in Bluefield, listening to Havana Daydreaming, my first Jimmy Buffet album. Whenever I hear Barometer Soup I'm taken back to writing genetic algorithms for carpet layout software. Fingers Taylor's New Fingerprints always recalls my brief stint at the Village Companies. I could go on for another 30 or so records, but you get the idea...

Paul Thorn's Mission Temple Fireworks Stand is forever entwined in my mind with writing my first project for Roger, plumbing the mysteries of the gawd-awful DLL I have to use to communicate with the so-cool-it-makes-ice-cream check scanner, and counting off the days until we move back home.

Music and smells are powerful evokers of old times. Take a whiff of some newly opened Play Dough sometime, you'll know what I mean.

Downtown Babylon

2006-06-02T21:25:00.000-04:00

Yes Virginia, music still lives. MTV didn't kill it. They just beat the crap out of it and hid it behind the bushes for 20 years. Then people like Paul Thorn picked it up, dusted it off, took it home and fed it lots of Wheaties.

You've gotta like a guy from Tupelo Mississippi (look it up kiddies) who lasted six rounds with Roberto Duran, talks like Forrest Gump, sings like a cross between Tom Waits and Kim Wilson, and dedicated a song to all the Moms who keep empty Cool Whip bowls in the cabinet for sending left over greens back home with their sons.

I'm not saying you'll like his music. People have different tastes. I'll just say this is the first time I've paid overnight shipping charges at amazon.com for something that was for me.

Paul Thorn's website

His home page has a link to a two part mp3 of a solo acoustic performance. Some songs deal with concepts and vocabulary that are Definately Not Kid-Friendly. Some are likely not Spouse-Friendly either, but I'll leave that to your descretion.

"Are you with me?" is a polished, studio album, not bad, but "Mission Temple Fire Works Stand" is less processed, and better for it. Actually, the solo mp3 with just PT and his guitar and a microphone is probably the best of the three, because there's less to get in the way of the music.

If anyone needs me, I'll be rocking out.

I'm Comin' 'Lizabeth!

2006-05-29T14:48:00.000-04:00

It started out fine. Backwards, but fine. My pride and joy was taking it's first steps across the living room rug. No Poppa was ever more proud. Until the back legs started rotating further to the side with each step, until they were swiveled ninety degrees from their starting orientation and the geometry couldn't take it anymore. Then it plopped over looking for all the world like a dying cockroach, legs frantically flailing about. Panic ensued. Somebody shot out the lights. Tactical operatives from the HomeOwner's Association crashed through the windows.

God awful mess; you should see my shoes...

Liiiife! I've created liiiiiiiife!!!

2006-05-29T14:31:00.000-04:00

Well, if you define "life" as something that can walk. Kind of. At least backwards. Until it falls over and tries to shred itself. Who said eviloution was easy?

Periodic reminder: If you click most of the pictures, you can see a larger version.

Familiarity Breeds Contempt

2006-05-28T11:51:00.000-04:00

What Brown has done for me

2006-05-26T21:43:00.000-04:00

We're hoping for lots of tomatoes, lots of banana peppers, both hot and mild, and lots of watermelon. We already have lots of carrots, basil, and the oregano has gone, in teh vernacular, "hawg wild". Bartholomeu the Toad still reigns in the flower bed, often stationing himself under the marigolds.

Gardening is like sales, if you have to lay it on, lay it on thick.

20 more reasons to head for the Hill

2006-05-11T21:59:00.000-04:00

11) Desserts at NC Museum of Art cafe - Raleigh
12) NC Zoo - Asheboro
13) Woody Durham on the Radio instead of the internet
14) The Chapel Hill Public Library
15) Cerebral Hobbies game store
16) The Crab Cakes at Capt. John's
17) Living 3 Blocks from the Kindergarden, Elementary and Middle School
18) Visart Video
19) The Caio Bella at Amante Gourmet Pizza
20) Tracy, our Reliable Babysitter
21) I get to go to my Dentist again
22) The Ali Cat Toy Store has Tinker Toys
23) Spring
24) Fall
25) The Backyard Deck
26) Egg Rolls and Kung Pao Chicken at Hunam before Carolina games
27) Good Book Stores
28) Good Used Book Stores
29) The skylight in our kitchen
30) UNC Basketball (Roy's Boys will rawk!)

I made a culinary discovery of Epic Proportions the other day. Jerk Pork Burritos. I prepared Jerk Pork per The Barbeque! Bible by Steven Raichlin and of course we froze the leftovers. Later that week, an inspired coup saved me a trip to Bruno's. We had tortillas. We had rice. We had cheese. We had beans. Well fine, we could have regular burritos, or we could just go HOG WILD and eat JERK PORK BURRITOS!!! They were really, really good. Didn't even need salsa. heh.

What can Brown do for you?

2006-05-06T15:42:00.000-04:00

I have a new favorite gas: Nitrogen. It's the most plentiful element in the atmosphere (it blows oxygen away, 75.523% to 23.133%), they put it in potato chip bags to maintain freshness, and when bound up with other chemicals in solid form (as by cows eating grass and doing other things cows do), it makes the garden grow. Nice and green and leafy. When the blooms come in we'll be switching our emphasis to Phosphorous and Potassium, but for now hit me with the big "N".

Ten Good Reasons for Tom to Live in Chapel Hill

2006-04-28T20:43:00.000-04:00

The rumors are true. We're moving back to Chapel Hill probably late this summer.

Ya-hoo!

Here's a partial list of why:

1) It's closer to my Dad
2) Fitch Lumber Company for Hardware
3) Intrex Computers for parts
4) My daughter's old enough to enjoy the Morehead Planetarium
5) UNC Season Football Tickets
6) Occasional UNC Basketball Tickets
7) Pound cake from the Carrboro Farmer's Market
8) Other goodies from the Weaver Street Market
9) Allen & Son Barbeque
10) Summer Movies on the Lawn in front of the Lumina

Mmmm Mmmmm Good!

2006-04-18T12:17:00.000-04:00

There are very few human problems that can not be solved by the skillful and timely application of two hundred and forty pounds of manure. (You might want to cut and paste that somewhere for future reference. It comes in handy at the oddest times.)

The garden soil tested great for phosphorous and potassium, but was very low in nitrogen. I suppose the weeds/shrubs/trees I dug out took it all away. I find it strange that although the atmosphere is more than 75% nitrogen, I've still got to go buy some to put in my dirt. Yet another example of the Perversity of Nature. I spent over an hour mowing the lawn again (ie beating back that which nature wants to grow), and another hour or two digging and fertilizing the garden (ie forcing the growth of that which nature doesn't want to grow). I guess it's Human Nature to seek a challenge, and Nature's Nature to whack us on the head for it.

Further updates as warranted.

Road Trip

2006-04-09T22:10:00.000-04:00

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this one comprises a near perfect essay of how I perceive South Carolina.

My Cat Eats Science

2006-04-04T14:30:00.000-04:00

So the Vet said that we should feed our cat "Science Diet" cat food. That's fine. I've got no problem with that. She eats it well enough, it doesn't smell bad, it's not too expensive. As cat foods go, it seems like a good one.

Then I start to wonder, "what kind of science am I giving her?" I'm all for science in general, but some sciences are better than others, at least in my opinion. The science she's eating is very crunchy, which leads me to believe she's getting at least some hard science, but she often wanders off by herself just after dinner, so maybe there isn't enough social science in the mix.

Now I'm starting to worry about the various implications of the hard sciences to which I'm exposing my pet. Too much Topology? Not enough combinatorics? It's hard to say, but she is very productive in the biochemistry department. Is she getting her proper allocation of the cognitive sciences? If she is I sure can't tell it. Her high energy physics might be a tad overdone, if anything.

It's such a mixed bag these days, and the product label is no help at all. I'd like to be sure she's getting enough evolution, but not so much that we have to redefine the nature of our relationship. Life is complicated enough already.

Crankin'

2006-03-30T11:55:00.000-05:00

Wow. I haven't cracked a book in nearly a month. This is only my second blog entry for March. Robots and Eggs has even fallen from grace with the Egg Waxing Savage Monkeys who used to hang out here. Ok, I did do laundry once and mow the grass, now green thanks to days in the 70's and some rain. Where have I been and what have I been doing?

Generally I've been absorbed in writing software again. Something I have not done much of since last June, when my last big project wrapped up. I wanted write some more code before the seven month hiatus turned into a year and my brain got stale. So I'm writing a small utility for a Semi-Addictive Turn Based Online Game - Strategy that I've been playing, called UltraCorps instead of SATBOGS. SATBOGS? This is why I write code instead of wearing dark socks and doing marketing. The UltraCorps link is on the right.

Programming for me is like falling down a deep well full of Krispey Kremes, and eating my way to back to the top, only without the bloated feeling, listlessness, hyperactivity, and short term coma that come after. It's nice to have large blocks of uninterrupted time to get fully immersed in what you're doing (think about the doughnut analogy again), enjoy the process (warm with sprinkles) and really have accomplished something when you're done (yummm).

It's important to pick a project where you're not fully in charge of the requirements. If you define the problem yourself, there's the temptation to avoid things that are tedious, very complicated, or are otherwise unappealing. (Unlike doughnuts.) That takes away from the challenge, and you don't learn much by doing things you already understand. It's also nice to be in control of all phases of the project from start to finish.

First you pick a project, define generally what you want it to do, and set some vague goals for the other phases. Then you figure out how you're going to solve the main problems and model your solution. Next you write some code, refine your model, and if you're lucky expand your initial goals to include lots of cool things that didn't occur to you when the project was new. Then you refine the code, clean up the once-in-a-blue-moon bugs, and add all the stuff that seperates the good software from the marginally useful. Things like GUI usability testing, tool tips, elegant error handling, and open file formats can all help the software be more of a tool than an obstacle.

It's reassuring to know that I've still got it, and that I still like it. We're moving back to Chapel Hill in the fall, and I'll be fully participating in our economy once more.

I like my tools. My desk, my old swivel chair from the Mind Tools days, my 19" ViewSonic LCD, my big white board (another Mind Tools artifact) are all things I rely on without having to think about. Office supplies keep getting better. I especially like the low-oder, funky colored white board markers they sell now. It's popular to bash MS Windows, but my homemade PC with the skull-and-crossbones covered vent in the top has been up for (checks systeminfo) 18 days, 17 hours, 3 minutes, 8 seconds. I think that's the last time the power went out, and the UPS beeping was driving me nuts. The wired and wireless network works. I can use my handmedown laptop into the back yard for the 45 mins or so it takes to drain the battery. I can even plug it into the home theater amp reciever downstairs and blast Jimmy Buffett , A Prairie Home Companion , or just shuffle all of my ripped CDs (accessed through simple file sharing, no streaming required) and see what comes out.

Life is good.

Never Have So Many Given So Much...

2006-03-09T11:22:00.000-05:00

... so that so few can have so little.

Dude, the grass is dead. It will come back when it's been warm for awhile and it rains a little bit. But for right now, it's dead. It will be green again. But it's not green now. Now it is dead.

Green = alive, Brown = dead.

What you have is brown grass, the dead kind.

Mowing it will not make it grow faster. Mowing is what cuts the top ends off of live grass and makes it dead grass. Your grass is already dead grass. All the way down to the ground. Dead.

Dead Grass + Lawn Mower = Dead Grass Clippings (NOT, I repeat, NOT, living grass).

I know you miss mowing your lawn. Everyone needs a passion in their life, but this is not the time for yours. This is the time for the grass to be brown (brown = dead, remember?) and for people to do other things. Things besides mowing dead grass.

Don't lose heart, for Spring will come again. Life will be renewed, and the roar of Briggs and Stratton will once more rumble 'cross these verdant plains of East-Central Alabama. Once more shall you cheerily trace your grid, decapitating any shoot so bold as to reach more than 1/16th of an inch above its neighbors.

Then, my brother, I shall rejoice with you. I shall drink deeply of Ice Tea and Lemonade, and from my reclining lawn chair heap praise upon your noble effort to sieze the rudder of nature's destiny, and, God-like, bend it to your will. In the glow of success, when missed spots have been pointed out and shorn, weeds eradicated, small engine maintenance tips exchanged, at the apex of your triumph, I might let you mow my grass too.

But not until it's green.

Mis Huevos Estan Lustrosos

2006-02-23T15:06:00.000-05:00

As if being the top google site for "Savage Monkeys" wasn't enough, MSN has jumped on the bandwagon and proclaimed my not so humble blog as tops for "Waxing Eggs". I expect Microsoft is just jockeying for market share, but they're gonna have to come up with the big bucks just like everyone else.

Click here to see for yourself:

Fruit d'Loom Man

2006-02-17T12:07:00.000-05:00

Men don't shop; we buy. We take all the time we could have wasted trying on clothes and comparing things and agonizing over brand labels, and we watch televised sports instead. Today is my triannual cotton undergarment replacement day. Thirty pairs of socks, thirty pairs of bloomers: 15 minutes - max. Actually, since each bag had a bonus pair, I wound up with 35 pair of briefs, instead of 30. See? I didn't "shop", but I saved 16.7% without trying. Had the self-service register taken Susan B. Anthony dollars it would have been the best trip ever.

Yeah, but jeeze-louise Tom, thirty pair of underwear, isn't that a bit, well... No, it's not, and I'll tell you why. On the long list of necessary but mundane things I don't like to think about, underwear ranks pretty near the top, above pencil sharpeners, but below lawn care (don't get me started). So, in an effort to streamline such things and free my mind for deeper and more rewarding pursuits, I adopted Tom's Monthly Laundry System. [Don't abbreviate that or the National Board of Realtors will swoop down and "Cease and Desist" your ears off, just after they try to convince you that their SUVs somehow get better mileage than everyone else's, Big Gold is still in fashion, and that "Perception is Reality"*, especially if you have a corner lot.]

It's all about effeciency and economy of scale. If you have thirty pairs of underwear, you only have to do laundry once a month. If you never turn your socks inside out, you never have to turn them rightside out. If all your socks match, you never have to sort them. Just reach into the drawer and grab two, any two, and you're set. Dress socks in a different drawer and only for dressy occasions please. Plus, if you do you shopping right before laundry day, just toss out the dirty whites, and you save at least one load of laundry every three years. Over the course of my adult life that's a savings of over 20 loads. Less wasted water, less detergent in our water system, and less electricity used. I expect Mother Nature to ring my doorbell any minute and give me a big ol' sloppy kiss. And I thought new socks were good for my self-esteem.

Life's a jungle. If you're going to get through it, you have to have a plan.

*This belief is at the foundation of why Realtors act they way they do. To quote J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, "Pull the Wool Over Your Own Eyes!"

The Twin Peaks of Kilimanjaro

2006-02-16T21:03:00.000-05:00

Well, not really. It's carpeted and climate controlled, and there's only one of them, but when you're a strictly indoor kitty (due to feline leukemia), it'll do. I wanted to give the cat something to climb on that wasn't already covered in books, so I had to construct something new. She can sleep in the afternoon sun, watch the birds and squirrels, or snooze in her basket way up in Micheal Jordan territory.

The World's #1 Resource for Savage Monkeys

2006-02-07T09:16:00.000-05:00

As of this writing, Yours Truly's blog, this very one you are reading now, is Google's top website for "savage monkeys". Selected by highly sophisticated algorithms from more than 1.3 Million lesser sites, Robots and Eggs stands alone as the primary electronic resource for savage monkeys and those who google them.

If that's not making your mark on the world, I don't know what is.

Try it for yourself!

In the Dark Everything Looks Clean

2006-02-07T00:00:00.000-05:00

A man looks out of his window at the neighbor's driveway, across the street:

"Mable! Com'ere an' take look at this! That crazy neighbor of ours is out in his driveway, washin' his car!"

"Yeah, I cain't hardly see for all the fog, but I think that's his four year old spraying the hose all over creation."

"No, I think she's the one throwing the soapy sponges all over creation. It's her daddy that's got the hose, but he ain't spraying it, it's just rainin' harder now."

"Well, If he don't have the sense to come in out of the rain, I guess he's not smart enough to know you can't wash a car right if you can't see the dirt."

"Lord ham mercy, it makes me cold just to look at 'em out there. It's gotta be 45 dee-grees by now."

"Should we go see if they're all right? I mean, you know, why would anybody be out there in this weather, washing their car?"

***

Tom's house, 10 minutes earlier:

"Come on Daddy, it'll be fun! Or, I guess we could watch The Lion King again."

"Sigh... I'll get the hose."

Game called on account of Giant Cat

2006-01-31T16:26:00.000-05:00

The BattleBall finals were indefinately suspended today when a giant cat entered the field of play and fell asleep across the Iron Wolve's 20 yard line. Fans and players alike were more than disgruntled at the unscheduled break in hostilities. Unkthor (#24) , Heavy Tackle for the red-clad Black Harts, shown here in a futile attempt to pummel the offending feline [click picture to enlarge], was quoted as saying, "Unghh!". I think he speaks for all of us.

Real Fusion Cuisine

2006-01-28T15:29:00.000-05:00

Microwaves? Feh. My oven has the most powerful heat source in the solar system. So powerful, in fact, that I can stand about 93,000,000 million miles away, and still cook lunch.

Granted, after four and a half hours the pasta was more like tapioca (195 degrees in the cooking jar), but the chicken came out nicely (189 degrees though, I expect the lower albedo of the tomato sauce accounts for the difference), even if the brown rice was slightly soggy. At least it's an uppper bound; which isn't bad for late January at 32.6 North Latitude. Next time I'll do a series of Pastas, removed at regular intervals until I find the al dente sweet spot. I expect the way to go is to start the sauce first, then add the plain pasta and water later, so they're both done at the same time.

Absolute Power corrupts absolutely?

2006-01-22T22:23:00.000-05:00

We'll see. I finally made time to finish it.

The Heels won tonight.

I am a happy man.

On becoming more powerful

2006-01-17T22:37:00.000-05:00

A decent bench power supply runs well into 3 digits, but good ones are all over, hiding in old PCs. I've been trying for two weeks to find time to convert mine.
{I was going to post a link here, but the url is longer than a blogspot line, so it just barfs, which is no great loss because any website silly enough to use the *entire* title of an article as part of the URL deserves as few incoming links as they can get. Ruff.}
[Reminder-because-now-I'm-a-grownup-and-worry-about-other-people: PC Power Supplies are Plug-Into-The-Wall items, so don't open them up unless you *know* what you're doing, and then you still have to be careful. Discharge those caps. And for the love of Pete, don't plug it in while the case is open. Also, like anything that has "wiki" in it, you've got to take responsibility for the consequences of believing what it says.]

Wow. Does that last paragraph make me sound old or what? I guess survival is hereditary.

Due to this and that (mainly an obsession with UltraCorps - see "Playing" links, a new cat, and now a munchkin with a stay-at-home cold) I haven't gotten much further than popping the top and cutting lots of wires. And I need some new drillbits. But then, everyone who has used drillbits needs new ones, so I'm not complaining.

Sigh. I've still got to clean up so I can organize my robot spooge, and find those firk-ding-blasted drill bits.

F is for Feline

2006-01-08T22:11:00.000-05:00

We adopted a cat today, Gertrude, from the Humane Society. They listed her as an adult, but she's still got some kitten in her. She's fascinated with water, and almost jumped into a full bathtub earlier. She's settled in nicely for her first day, and seems to have decided that we're worthy subjects.

She's asleep on my lap as I write this. Maybe she'll allow me to stand when I'm finished. Then again, maybe I'll just sleep in my chair. There are few soporifics more potent than a sleeping lap cat.

Cookies for My Feet

2005-12-31T13:27:00.000-05:00

Good haul this year, mostly books and DVDs. (Watch the "Reading" and "Finished" sidebars as I work through them.) Books on robot programming, games, Sci Fi, etc. Monty Python and the Holy Grail and The Incredibles, as well as The Cadfael Collection, on DVD should keep me motivated on the treadmill well into Febuary.

I'm setting a reminder in Outlook for July 1st, to remind me to do my Christmas Shopping early next year. That would be so cool, wouldn't it? To have your shopping all wrapped up before going to watch the fireworks. It would also help smooth out our holiday-driven retail economy.

Christmas in New Hampster

2005-12-23T14:32:00.000-05:00

Christmas in the Frozen North with my in-laws has become our tradition. So has snow. When I was little a White Christmas was a rare and wonderful thing. Then we moved to the mountains and for four or five years it was almost a given. After a dozen years without, it was nice to spend Christmas in a place where I can see snow through the window behind the Christmas tree. It just feels right.

It feels even better with the shopping done, presents wrapped, a fire in the fireplace, and a smug grin.

Merry Christmas 2000 and something

2005-12-19T23:06:00.000-05:00

Finally got around to sending Christmas cards. Last year's, this year's, some from the previous melineum... They're all good. People should get more credit for sending a late Christmas card than for sending one on time. It's harder to bite the bullet and call attention to one's own slackness by actually sending the card late, than it is to stand meekly by and let the calendar roll on. If you want to wait until July or so to send me a Christmas card, that's cool. It can be for 2005 and 2006.

Ahhhhh

2005-12-13T22:30:00.000-05:00

Some guys cheat on their wives. Some guys gamble. Some guys embezzle their company's retirement funds. Me? I drink Coke.

Sorry.

41 is a Prime Number

2005-12-12T21:43:00.000-05:00

It's been a good 41 years. There are some things I would be tempted to do differently, but I probably wouldn't, for fear of risking my current outcome. Now, I've always been risk averse. The best thing that can happen while skydiving is that I won't wind up as street pizza, and I can accomplish that right here, thanks.

There are a few "educators" I wish I'd told to stick it, and a few "teachers" I wish I could thank again for actually teaching me something.

The older I get, the harder it is to remember to have fun. Energy and irresponsibility are the twin hallmarks of youth, the catalysts of fun, and are in increasingly short supply as life gets more complicated. Back before the Post Office started pushing Sacajawea one dollar coins we had the Susan B Anthony coins, minted in 1979, but nobody ever used them. I could go to the bank, get a roll for $20, and have all kinds of fun for free. The blankest look I've ever seen was on the face of the girl at Burger King when I paid for my whopper and large drink with 3 or 4 Susies. At first she thought they were quarters and was waiting for me to put down the rest of the money. Then she looked more closely and thought they were Canadian. Meanwhile, I'm struggling to keep a straight face and acting as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Then she reads "United States" and "One Dollar", and goes back to ask the manager if she can accept those coins. The poor, harried manager was older, and had obviously seen them before. So now she's managed to ring me up, give me my change, and I leave her to figure out where to put the Susies, since the register doesn't have a coin slot for them.

Maybe tomorrow I'll go to the bank.

Waxing Nostalgic

2005-12-06T11:53:00.000-05:00

Last night I came across my treasured collection of The Space Gamer magazines from the ‘70s and ‘80s (issues 8-72). I flipped through the pages, waxing nostalgic about all the fun I had playing games with friends and all the new friends I met through the games. Each page brought back its own set of memories. Issue #34, my first, I bought at Fred's Hobby and Cycle shop only because I had an extra three bucks burning a hole in my pocket. "Hey, these games are *cool*" I said to myself. (I grew up with Avalon Hill games (thanks Mark!) but by high school they were either trivial or just too dry.) "This is the guy that did OGRE!" There was also a good piece of short fiction by an unknown writer named Timothy Zahn. Double-sweet, and I was hooked.

Back in the day TSG was my once a month connection to the gaming world. During the summer I'd hang out on the front porch, listening to tapes and reading, but really I was waiting for the mail man. He'd drive to the end of my block with a half dozen of the neighborhood dogs in tow. They loved to chase that white Jeep with the steering wheel on the wrong side, and then follow the mailman as he went from house to house, wagging and sniffing. This grand procession went from house to house down the other side of the street then back up mine. Most days, Glenn, as I came know him, would hand me a stack of bills, circulars, and things marked Resident or Occupant, two very popular folks. It’s strange that I never met them, since we lived at the same address. Maybe they were out all the time handing out business cards. Once in awhile though, I'd see that tell-tale white mailing cover with the bold black print and Glenn would flash a great big smile under his big bushy mustache and ask, "Is this what you're looking for?" as he handed me my forty or so pages of adventure, imagination and *fun*. Eventually he'd skip ahead and do my house first if it was Space Gamer Day. Small town mailmen are great.

I think I became a professional programmer in large part because well written game rules are fundamentally human-executed computer programs. Simulations, modeling the real world in simpler, well defined terms, are fun to create. Modeling an unreal world, a game world, is even more fun. When is comes to sociability though, computers and software can't compete with board games, RPGs and the like. We'd cook out, pig out, and play Illuminati until 3:00 am. The International Communist Conspiracy gets destroyed by the Boy Sprouts. There was the time a new “assassin” made his grenades with a double handful of flour, instead of the recommended two teaspoons. Once I got killed with a banana because my mom forgot we were playing "that game" and let Brian just waltz into our house with his lunch sack, point the banana at me and “Bang” I was a goner. Twenty years later when we all get together, these stories keep coming up.

Now I'm mostly grown up with a nuclear family of my own. I don't have much time for games these days, but I still play with my nephews when my extended family gets together at the beach. They always bring along a copy of whatever flavor of Munchkin they're into, and it’s a good way to connect as they grow older. It also solves the problem of what to give when holidays and birthdays come around.

To me, games are tools for having fun. New designs and game mechanics have raised the bar considerably over the last 25 or 30 years, but like any other tool, it’s all in how you use it. So I’d like to say “Thanks” to SJ and the SJG staff for many of the great games I’ve played over the years. You keep making them and I’ll keep playing them.

Crank Mode

2005-11-30T10:14:00.000-05:00

^- my current desktop (click it for a larger image)

Wrap some presents, make some pizza dough, and get back to work. Of course, in order to work efficiently I'll need to clean my office. Which means stuffing 16 unpacked boxes into the closet. That leads to rearranging the closet. And in order to do that I've got to move some things into the bedroom; the prerequisite being that I clean off the shelves on the big white bookcase there. I can do that, but then I'll need to box that stuff up, and where to put the boxes? I know! I'll just stuff them in my office!

A Jar of Pop, A Hunk of Meat, and Thou

2005-11-29T10:11:00.000-05:00

After another round trip to NC, barbequed pork shoulder on my new big honkin' grill, Thanks giving dinner (turkey, not pork) , and 25 huge bags of leaves, it's good to be back in the home-groove for awhile.

Here's a good recipie for bean relish. Let it sit in the fridge overnight and it will provide a cool, slightly sweet and tangy counterpoint to many fish and poultry dishes, especially grilled ones.

1 can pintos (14 oz)
1 can black beans (14 oz)
1 medium onion (chopped or minced)
1 large diced tomato
1 diced green bell pepper
1 can corn (14 oz)
1 tablespoon vinegar (more or less, to taste)
1 teaspoon brown sugar (or honey or molasses)
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1 sprinkle freshly ground black pepper

Stir all of the ingredients together and store covered in a glass or plastic bowl overnight in the fridge.

No progress on super secret projects to report. Nanowrimo word count is a depressing 5,665. But I'm not going to let the deadline, which is supposed to be a motivator, turn into a reason for not finishing. Besides, I was out of town for a week. Maybe I can finish it by my birthday.

Speaking of which I'd better stop writing here so I can write there.