No, we’re just partners, Thanks.

On Tuesday night E and I were asked if we were brother and sister!!!

The checkout-chick at Bunnings may have had some cause to ask this: we were engaged in that kind of vaguely adversarial humour that might well seem like the sibling thing to the unfamiliar eye.

Still. We were both greatly freaked out by the question:

“Are you two brother and sister?”

It struck me at the time that this person really needed to meet me in the company of my actual brother:

Lawler-spotting for beginners

we are fairly easy-to-spot siblings.

On a mostly unrelated note: I should add to my rave about Skullcandy by pointing out that my Skullcandy ‘buds were a gift from E, who bought them off the ‘net. I don’t know a good retailer to buy them at in Melbourne, sadly.

Broadband, we does not has it

If E and I seem to be a little quiet this week, it’s because the foolishness of Australian telecommunications has left us broadbandless while we change from ADSL on one ISP to ADSL 2+ on a different one.

The reasons for this are many, but the main one is that the incumbents have seriously gone downhill in the past six months.

The upshot is that we are relying on borrowed dial-up for the next little while.

Of course, if you can’t reach us online, we do still have phones. πŸ™‚

Brief rave: Skullcandy

Skullcandy LogoSkullcandy rock. In particular, I want to rave about three things:

  1. Their Smokin’ Buds ear-buds are fantastic quality: they are the best head-mounted audio of any kind I have ever encountered, and I’ve tried a few.
  2. Their Smokin’ Buds ear-buds are damn cheap for what they are.
  3. Their customer service is unbelievable. On the packaging they say that if you break their products, or lose parts, they will just mail you replacements. It was only yesterday that I confirmed that they really mean that.

I figure if they don’t want money for having a real human being email me back in less than an hour and post me a new set of gels, the least I can do is expound their virtues on my blog.

This has been your non-sponsored rave for the day. πŸ™‚

Prettified, Unified, Gnarlified

Those who check here with any regularity will notice that things have changed lately:

  • First, I updated WordPress MU to the latest version, thereby bringing a number of WordPress 2.0-isms into availability.
  • This broke about 2/3 of my existing themes for some reason, including the ‘grass roots‘ one I was using, so I failed back to the default WPMU theme for a few weeks.
  • As a result, my duplicator script, which makes this blog page appear in similar form on my homepage, broke.
  • I was already cranky about the ugliness of the code underlying my old homepage, so I duplicated all the sub-pages off it here, in WordPress, and put up a ‘nobody home!’ message on the old page.
  • I wasn’t totally happy with the default theme either, so I downloaded K2, and went a little bit mad playing with the infinite variety of customizable gadgets.

Now, as you can see, this page looks far more like a page where someone actually lives. πŸ™‚

Next, I intend to diddle Apache into displaying the same page at /~thorin/ and /blog/thorin/ (just for me, although if other people turn out to want it, it can be copied).
O ye who have blogs here (or want a blog here), be advised that if you want the full scope of K2 magic for your own blog, ask me. It is not 100% automatic, owing to the nature of WPMU.

I do wibble, quietly to myself about the sheer colossal mass of code that now underlies this page, but hey, it doesn’t seem to have hurt performance. YMMV. Please complain if it’s bad for you…

Transhuman medicine

Follow-on from yesterday’s post led me to read today, at lunch-time, about Democratic Transhumanism, a disturbing name for a political label which I suspect I might actually like to adopt. The idea that we can just plain outsmart our own limitations is one very dear to me, one that seems self-evident to me from the shape of human technological history.

With this roiling about in my head, I take an end-of-day glance at ye-olde bucket-O-morons, Slashdot, and find a link to this article.

DNA vaccine could help MS sufferers: study

The cause (of Multiple Sclerosis) is unknown, but evidence suggests the immune system of MS patients attacks the myelin that covers and protects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord.”

“(The Vaccine) incorporates the DNA sequence of myelin basic protein into cells, which then start to make the protein.

Say what?!? If I understand this correctly, there’s a disease where sub-part X of body-part Y breaks down and goes away… so we engineer a vaccine which introduces DNA into body-part Y which enables it to re-grow sub-part X. HOLY FARK!

Needless to say, this strikes me as pretty frickin’ “transhuman”.

Environmentalism, Space and The Spin-Doctor

I generally avoid environmentalism as an issue on my blog because I fear the power of fatigue and denial: Everyone in the world who hasn’t been living in a skinner box for the past thirty to sixty years is suffering from some kind of fatigue and living in some level of denial about sustainability, pollution, global warming and the mind-buggeringly vast array of potential issues that flock with them. You think you’re not fatigued by them or in denial about them? Convince me that your whole life really is zero-impact then, go on. Convince me that you still stop and read every piece of news you can get your hands on regarding global warming (to pick one single issue) and the political machinations that go with it. Then, having done that, tell me how your plans take into account the actions of the rest of humanity in order to guarantee a safe and happy future for yourself.

The fatigue and denial are natural things. It makes me a little sad to see people like Jeremy Clarkson becoming actively hostile in their denial, but it doesn’t surprise me, and I don’t hold it against him: This kind of reaction is inevitable.

I would usually like to think of myself as an environmentalist (to some extent) and a communist (likewise), but readers will note that this blog has a marked lack of references to The Revolution or The People (except in jest). This is because, while I think Communism is an archetype of the ideal government, I fail to see:

  • A practical way to get there from here, right now.
  • A complete or consistent model for how it’s going to be made practical.
  • A sufficiently large or urgent demand for radical change.

Instead, I have leanings: I like to encourage communal organizations and economic structures where they crop up. I am always careful to vote with socialist leanings in mind. I try to foster an interest in others in concepts like how industrialization makes the agrarian work-ethic increasingly inappropriate. I frequently tout Iain M Banks’ “Culture” novels (or Ursula Le Guin) to friends. πŸ™‚ I avoid even mentioning the strong left-wing papers or classic Communist writers for the same reason that sane modern Chrisitians don’t like to talk about Jack Chick or carry a bible for the purpose of quoting it. Why is it, do you think, that in a world where open-source software is a vast and growing industry, so fe people know or care about Richard Stallman and the FSF, who arguably started it all? People get tired. People especially get tired of being told that their hard work, their glories, their achievements and their luxuries, generally earned in good faith, are wrong and bad, and must be given up or undone. In fact, I think people get tired of being told that anything is bad and wrong in a generalised or dogmatic kind of way.

Wow! Long rant. Apologies for the fatigue, folks. πŸ™‚

My point in all of this is that environmentalism, arguably one of the most important causes in human history, has really bad spin. I never really understood what spin was until I met my first expectation manager

Businesses that Sell something usually aim to achieve Customer Satisfaction. i.e. ensuring that the Quality of the Product meets The Customer’s Expectations. All the obvious parts (the parts any business wants us, the public to see) of said business are about ensuring the Quality of the Product. You know; making sure that the product lives up to expectations. The secret part is that this is a two-way process. Roles like Marketing and Sales are tinged with it, but only the role of Expectation Manager is really frank and honest about this part.

An Expectation Manager is someone who ensures that the buying public’s expectations are kept on a par with what the company actually makes. This is not about selling the product as the be-all and end all, but it’s not about negativity either. It’s about finding the strengths in what you have, and elaborating on them. The customer has never felt the need for a hard-drive in their pocket before, but having their own music collection to play wherever they go, that’s cool. How did they live without it?

So, how do we spin environmentalism? Same way you spin anything.
(warning: may contain traces of sarcasm)

  1. Environmentalism is not hard. It’s easy.
    (Marketing and Engineering can worry about making this true, or making it seem true).
  2. Environmentalism is not boring, sad, or angry. It’s fun.
    (State-of-mind stuff. Sell the whole package right, and it will be true).
  3. Environmentalism is not nerdy, fringe or elitist. It’s cool.
    (Say it loud enough, often enough and it becomes true. Brainwashing is your friend).

As long as Environmentalism takes the form of trying to punish the naughty consumers for buying stuff and using stuff, to berate the naughty companies for making a (profitable) mess, it will continue to have all the sex-appeal of a jail term. To sell it, it has to be a positive thing. It has to look easy, fun, and worthwhile. I’m not being defeatist or cynical about this: maybe mankind does possess enough wit to react intelligently to a threat like global warming, maybe it doesn’t. The odds are that such a reaction will be late, half-hearted, and involve euqal parts bitterness and suffering. For certain though, humanity knows how to follow trends and learn new tricks. We know how to rise to technical challenges, to manage impossibly expensive things like the space race. We know how to suddenly start using radios… and telephones… and TVs… and mobile phones… and eBay… and iPhones… and… and…

Environmentalism (maybe under an assumed name, the old one has cooties) just needs to be the next killer product, or products. How? That’s engineering’s problem. πŸ™‚

For example, we could be Colonizing Planet Earth.

Oooh. I ranted. Sawry…

Guts!

I seem to specialise in blogging from odd places under odd circumstances…

Today I’m in hospital with (probably) an incarcerated hernia

This is, I am assured, nothing to be worried about, but I notice I’m not being sent home or anything. There is very little to do here, unless one brings it; the TV is diminished from its traditional brain-sucking power by the absence of cable. They screen the occasional DVD, but have put Stranger than fiction (which I quite anted to see) at the same time I’m scheduled for surgery. The food here (Valley Private) is so bad that I am frankly looking forward to being put back on the drip and told to fast again. E (who should be canonized!) brought me fast food, Red Meat comics and my laptop, so all is well.

That’s all really. I have little to say, because I have little to do. In the absence of stimulus I become a potato. Ho hum.

Mododrums’ meme

Update: Since I wrote this, I realised that Wiz had already sent me this quiz, well before I read Mododrums’ blog post. Blargh! Sorry Wiz!

Once upon a time there was a Mododrum, and I did read her blog (among others) on my extremely read-only PDA using plucker. This did not afford me much opportunity to reply to the Mododrum, as I would typically think of things to say when I had no means of submitting them, then forget all about blogs by the time I got home.

Today however, I had more time than usual at work to sit around in the mindless boredom of a data-center and read my PDA, and something stuck sufficiently for me to remember it now. πŸ™‚

  1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
    Possibly this dude. Certainly not this dude. Actually, I doubt it:If I was, how do I account for my brother’s name?
  2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
    Yesterday I would have had to give a long and needlessly gruesome self-excoriating answer, however I cried a little bit just this morning while listening to Dogs, the song referenced in my previous post.
  3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING
    I once did, but then several years of technical-drawing happened to it, and the final nails were driven in by Palm (how very anti-stigmatic!). Now my handwriting is all but extinct. I fire up the printer just to leave notes for E. I still like to fiddle amateurishly with calligraphy.
  4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE LUNCH MEAT?
    It’s a close-run race between good roast beef and good roast lamb. If it has to be mediocre, I will fall back to salami, as even bad salami is ok.
  5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
    No.
  6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
    I very much doubt it. I don’t like me very much as it is, and I am me. Then again, if I were someone else, I might not have such fine-tuned sensitivity to all my own worst traits. What a silly question! If I were impossible and imaginary, would I fly or just teleport? but I digress…
  7. DO YOU USE SARCASM ALOT?
    Not in a million years. Nor do I exaggerate, and I am further above hyperbole than God.
  8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
    Yes.
  9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
    Probably. Even this man‘s fervent warnings leave me undeterred.
  10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE CEREAL?
    Porridge. I am, however, a great girly southern pansy: I not only like milk and cream in mine, and often eat instant porridge, I also like golden syrup on mine. This profoundly offends the sensibilities of many porridge eaters, so why would I ever stop? πŸ™‚
  11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
    Yes, or else they get ruined. Whoever wrote this question has very different feet to mine… wow.
  12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
    No. For my size, build and gender I am physically pathetic. Emotionally, I am much much worse. At best I suppose I can claim the kind of resiliency which is attributed to the willow tree: I bend freely but seem to remain unbroken in the face of much crazy poop.
  13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE ICE CREAM?
    The stuff from the old gelateria in Lygon street. What flavour? Probably some kind of toffee-caramel-crunchy-gooey variety.
  14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
    To be brutally honest, I suspect my sensory filters would usually strive to gauge gender or height first.
  15. RED OR PINK?
    Red. Pink would be my favourite pastel, but generally I like primary colours vastly more than shades tones or pastels.
  16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
    My inherited penchant for gratuitous melodrama.
  17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST
    Right now, E. Her shifts are horrible for me, and must me indescribable diabolical torment for her.
  18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU?
    No. That would make this a mailing lis, and it’s not, it’s a blog. Everyone can get their own dang blog and answer it there. πŸ™‚
  19. WHAT COLOUR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
    Black and Black. Work and work. Then again, many of my casual shoes and pants are black too. Hmmm.
  20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
    Warm plonky cake with custard. Before that it was midnight breakfast. See my earlier comment about E’s shifts.
  21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
    The faint hum of my little pooter.
  22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOUR WOULD YOU BE?
    Transparent like candle wax.
  23. FAVOURITE SMELLS?
    E. The smell of cooking lamb. The odd hot-metal smell that older Melbourne trams and trains often make.
  24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
    A workmate in Adelaide.
  25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?
    Mododrum are uber niftah, sometimes even when using her powers for evil. πŸ™‚
  26. FAVOURITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
    Scrapheap challeng, or, if I can’t call that a sport, rally driving.
  27. HAIR COLOUR?
    Boring blondish brown, when I let it get long enough to have a colour distinct from my scalp.
  28. EYE COLOUR?
    Bloodshot unnatural blue (see Q#29).
  29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
    Yes, they make my normally blue eyes very blue, and permanently bloodshot. I do not wear them for vanity: rigid contact lenses are the only viable way to overcome my keratoconus well enough to drive.
  30. FAVOURITE FOOD?
    Spit-roast meat.
  31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
    From these two, scary movies, although really I shuold be saying that I like sad, bleak endings best.
  32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
    Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix
  33. WHAT COLOUR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
    White, work. See shoes.
  34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
    Summer. O please let there be a long enough summer for me to adjust before it finishes.
  35. HUGS OR KISSES?
    Hugs.
  36. FAVOURITE DESSERT?
    Cream caramel.
  37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
    sabik.
  38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
    My brother.
  39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
    Currently between books, although I have been meaning to finish Authentic Happiness by Seligman one of these days.
  40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
    My what? This is the twenty-first century, and my mouse is optical, thankyouverymuch. We don’ need no steenkin mousepads! I have a Kaz mousepad around here somewhere though…
  41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT?
    Last night? I didn’t turn the TV on last night, I had dinner with friends and got some sleep. Tonight I watched taped episodes of Top Gear and Enough Rope.
  42. FAVOURITE SOUND?
    This is obscure… The sound that the backpacks in the original Ghostbusters movie make as they power up. It’s a bit like the rapidly-rising squeal that capacitors make as they charge, only with this great dangerous-sounding crunchiness to it.
  43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
    Sargeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band, of course. Lennon may have been the second coming.
  44. WHAT IS THE FURTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
    Portland, Oregon.
  45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
    I like to think that I write well (in a sense which has absolutely nothing to do with handwriting).
  46. WHAT IRRITATES YOU MOST?
    Malicious misinformation, especially when it comes from people in positions of authority or power who have a responsibility to behave better. Doubly so if it is that person’s role to give out information, i.e. they are a teacher. It makes me so murderously angry I can barely contain myself.
  47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
    E‘s.

Wonderful Terrible Things

Warning: I may be repeating myself

Today I find myself particularly struck by an old piece of music with which I am very familiar, and a relatively new (March 1995) piece of writing which I had never seen before.

In 1999 I was on the dole, feebly attempting to mop up the last few subjects, the stragglers of my degree. I had had a little work fixing laptops for an acquaintance of a friend. I had some more work for a nasty little criminal of a man whose name I will not mention here. (The low character of these two people should not be taken as any reflection on my friend. She would, I am sure, testify to their foulness; she didn’t choose to run into them either…). But I wasn’t really trying to get work. Thus, it came as somewhat of a surprise therefore, when I accidentally got myself hired into a ravening bloodthirsty beast of a dot-com startup. My experiences with Verve, and later with Versata, and finally (the horror!) with Microlistics, came as something of a culture-shock. I suspect these experiences will always form a part of my appreciation and understanding of the workplace, the realities of economics, and the so-called captains of industry at every level of it.

There were two Pink Floyd songs which seemed to express it all particularly well at the time:

First, Learning to Fly was the essence of it (and that fact that it flows smoothly into Dogs of war); the terrifying, glorious surge of uncontrollable acceleration as I found myself flown out to the USA for emergency consulting work in my first year on the job. The brutal disorientation: Welfare-pauper uni student one day, suited international business consultant the next. The exultation: That code there that processes a hundred million dollars every day: I wrote that. I wrote that today and a team of hardened veterans thanked me for it and took me out for lunch.

Second though, as Verve sickened into Versata and died, and I found myself at Microlistics, it was suddenly all about Dogs, quite possibly my favourite track of all time.

You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you’re on the street
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.
And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye, and an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you
You’ll get the chance to put the knife in.

<mesmerizing musical interlude>

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder
You know it’s going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you get older
And in the end you’ll pack up, fly down south
Hide your head in the sand
Just another sad old man
All alone and dying of cancer.

<another mesmerizing musical interlude starring Mr Gilmour’s guitar>

And when you loose control, you’ll reap the harvest that you’ve sown
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone

And it’s too late to loose the weight you used to need to throw around
So have a good drown, as you go down, alone
Dragged down by the stone.

<Yet another mesmerizing musical interlude, with synthesizers this time>

I gotta admit that I’m a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I’m just being used
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise
If I don’t stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this maze?
Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone’s expendable and no-one has a real friend
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And everythings done under the sun
And you believe at heart, everyone’s a killer.

<one last mesmerizing musical interlude>

Who was born in a house full of pain
Who was trained not to spit in the fan
Who was told what to do by the man
Who was broken by trained personnel
Who was fitted with collar and chain
Who was given a pat on the back
Who was breaking away from the pack
Who was only a stranger at home
Who was ground down in the end
Who was found dead on the phone
Who was dragged down by the stone.

Who was dragged down by the stone.

Today, as I listened to this song again in an interlude between crises, reflecting on what a depressive wanker I was (and what a stunningly good song this still is) I read something that evoked a similar sense of fascination: Hunter S Thompson’s Song of the Sausage Creature.

Like everything he wrote, it’s a fascinating place to visit, but nowhere you would want to live. It’s all about my newest hobby; motorcycling. Thanks again Hunter for a fascinating glimpse of something I want no part of.

Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube. That is why God made fast motorcycles, Bubba….

And he was, in the end.

Target Market?

E has been known to browse eBay.

E: It’s a haunted gypsy mens jewelry(sic) penis enlargement spell! <archly> Do you think you need one? </archly>

Me: Do you think I need one?

E: No, not really.

Me: Then I don’t think I need one.

<pause>

Me: There’s spectacle, and there’s convenience, you know?

Of course, I needed the URL to write this, so I asked E for it… E sent it to me in a message entitled ‘I won’t ask why you want this’.

Today’s mindless blather brought to you by the common cold and the letter Mu.