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August 7, 2008
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One of these might help
with the wayward
Mexican Army problem,
don’t'ya think? |
Fox News: Mexican Soldiers Enter Arizona, Briefly Detain Border Agent
Four Mexican soldiers crossed into Arizona and held a U.S. Border Patrol agent at gunpoint before realizing where they were and returning to Mexico, federal authorities said Wednesday.
The fence thing, just a suggestion…and it’s the friggin LAW, dammit!
Filed under: Crime and (sorta) Punishment, Gub'Mint At Work, International Relations |
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August 7, 2008
…give the others a bad name.
WhoCanISue.com
We truly are headed for societal mayhem when the lawyers solicit for cases. No longer content to chase ambulances, or advertise ad infinitum on TV, or get baleful dupes to scream like spoiled brats, “It’s MY money and I want it NOW!” - now they’re launching a Web site in which the would-be plaintiffs tell the lawyers what they want to sue for.
“Bottom feeders” is a phrase that comes to mind.
Q: What do you call 50,000 lawyers at the bottom of Loch Ness?
A: A start.
Filed under: Crime and (sorta) Punishment, Observations, Society's Carbuncles |
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August 7, 2008
You can just hear the disawowal now…
Investors Business Daily: Young Obama’s Red Mentor
He may not be a Muslim, but Barack Obama sure is a Marxist. The answers are there for all to read and heed.
You want that in the Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave?
Really?!?!?
Filed under: Obamania, Personalities, Politics |
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August 7, 2008
Investors Business Daily: People Vs. Pelosi
With a nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more, say no more:
In telling House Democrats it’s OK to vote for drilling, Nancy Pelosi has conceded that on the biggest election issue she’s out of step with the American people. Will Republicans seize this opportunity?
[...]
If Congress removed the ban on drilling offshore, gave access to the massive deposits of oil in the Alaskan Arctic and allowed the oil shale of the Western states to be tapped, the global petroleum market would immediately react positively, bringing pump prices down. Crude futures prices would plunge — as they already have over mere talk of a possible softening by Congress on drilling.
That’s the last thing House Speaker Pelosi, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, D-Nev., and likely Democratic presidential nominee Sen. Barack Obama want. (Obama now claims he’ll “consider” drilling as part of an environmentalist package.)
More drilling and lower prices would mean that Big Oil is no longer the boogeyman, but rather the key to the solution. And it would mean that all the windmills, solar panels and geeky plug-in cars the Pelosi Democrats want to force down the throats of the American people would have to wait until they’re economically viable.
That could spell disaster for Democrats in November.
But the good news is: On the book trail, Comrade Pelosi has sold almost 2800 books, and holds an almost 10 percent approval rating!
Filed under: Gub'Mint At Work, Personalities, Politics |
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August 7, 2008
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| Well! Isn’t that speh-shal! |
Fox News: Killer to Receive Calzones, Pizza With Life Sentence
Tremayne Durham, 33, of New York City, admitted last month that he fatally shot Adam Calbreath, 39, of Gresham, in June 2006. Durham wanted to sell ice cream and ordered an $18,000 truck from an Oregon company. He later changed his mind, but the company wouldn’t provide a refund.
The would-be ice cream man came to Oregon and killed Calbreath, a former employee of the company, while looking for its owner, authorities said.
Durham agreed to plead guilty to murder — but only if he could get a break from jail food. The judge agreed and granted Durham a feast of KFC chicken, Popeye’s chicken, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, carrot cake and ice cream.
Filed under: Crime and (sorta) Punishment, Gub'Mint At Work |
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August 6, 2008
OK, this hit me on the way home from work:
If I were to organize a Complaints Choir Competition in my local area, I would dub the festival…(get set!)…
(Ready for this…)
(Wait for it…)
(Steady Now…)
Bitchin’
I think that’s just genius, if I do say so myself. Those of you Marketers and Maestros and such out there who dream of doing your own, feel free to use my idea in your own productions, but just remember where you got the idea from, OK?
Filed under: Entertainment, Humor |
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August 6, 2008
OK, so I am programming in Java, and - so far! - at a somewhat basic level. I am trying to create the world’s best Backgammon game, one worthy of (hopefully!) being included in a release of Ubuntu in the foreseeable future. I am at the “pseudo code” stage, where your program looks like this:
roll dice
if die(1) equals die(2), then it's a double
number of moves equals 4
if die(1) does not equal die(2), then play as normal
number of moves equals 2
If I typed that into a computer, the computer would do the equivalent of:
Hack! Gasp! Cough, cough! Wheeze. Sputter. Die. Look at user stupidly.
That pseudo code must be turned into intelligible code which the computer will understand. That’s REAL programming. (And I ain’t there, yet!)
As it is, I am writing the pseudo code, and as part of that process, I am trying to express, logically, the reasons behind doing one of four basic Backgammon moves: Run, hit, block, or cover. (For my part, I have boiled down the possibilities of movement into just those four. Please email me if you can think of another movement type!)
I figure there are 24 distinct possibilities for “movement hierarchies,” in which a player would select which move to make, based from a ranking of possibilities. I am trying now to “shoehorn” these 24 possibilities - and the reasons for reaching them! - into some “player personalities.” I am contemplating a Russian Male (Codename: “Dmitrij”), a Russian Female (Codename: “Dasha”), a Turkish Male (Codename: “Murat”) and a Turkish Female (”Tulin”). (Yes, these are REAL peoples’ names, from folks who’ve graced or continue to grace my life at some point.) I am also considering a character, Codename: “Uncle Buck,” who would be completely random in his behavior.
I am trying to characterize each character by a basic trait or traits: Passive or Aggressive, then Offensive or Defensive in nature. That would be the “Main Tendency.” THEN, to further add an element of unpredictability to it all, I would like to incorporate a “chance” that that character would do exactly the opposite, in any given circumstance.
During my ritual lunch walk, I was musing on this, and then something pretty remarkable hit me, and not all at once, but in a wave of revelations.
First, I was trying to determine what makes me, as a Backgammon player, move the way I do in any given situation. I’m a fairly decent player, but still, why I do a certain thing in one instance and exactly the opposite in another is a process I call “intuitive.” There are so many variables that are input into my system, such as:
- Are my dice hot or cold?
- Are my opponent’s dice hot or cold?
- What are the general positions of my pieces on the board?
- What are the general positions of my opponent’s pieces on the board?
- Am I lucky? Today? In general?
- Is my opponent lucky? Today? In general?
- What are the probabilities of hitting the exact number - or numbers - I need?
- What are the probabilities of my opponent hitting the exact number - or numbers - he or she needs?
- etc.
- etc.
- etc.
At any given time, I make a move, and because I am either unable or unwilling to consider every possibility and variable, I label the whole thing as “an intuitive process.” I don’t have the time or the consciousness to evaluate - successfully! - each and every valuable in play. I must rely on “gut feelings,” “intuition,” “luck” or whatnot to make my decision and subsequent move.
Most of the time, it works out favorably for me.
And as I pondered that, the revelations started coming.
What I call “intuitive” or “instinctual” is a “cover label” applied to the whole panoply of variables and inputs and decision points and actions that are made in any given situation. I can’t possibly figure out every variable, or account for every possible outcome, so I just move, possibly based on any number of “un- (or sub?) conscious inputs” I note.
Then, considering “instinctual,” the thought occurred to me of a wolf hunting a rabbit. How does the wolf go about capturing the rabbit, and how does the rabbit go about avoiding the wolf? We call it “instinct,” but again, that’s just a “cover label” we apply to the whole process. Perhaps the wolf sees - consciously or subconsciously - the angle of the rabbit’s hind leg, and knows to move in a certain direction to anticipate the rabbit’s movement. Perhaps the rabbit - consciously or subconsciously - sees the tense of the wolf’s paw, and can anticapte the move, and avoid it. We don’t, as a whole, have the time or inclination to figure out EVERY nuance of “the hunt,” so we chalk it all up to “instinct.”
Pretty cool, huh? But it gets better,
The thought occurs that an expert athlete does exactly that: He or she looks BEYOND the normal stuff that the rest of us see, and sees - and reacts to - much, much more.
Ping-pong comes to mind. I play OK, but nowhere near any sort of proficiency. I react, and I’m pretty sure I don’t have time or attention to give to every nuance of even my opponent’s racket hand, let alone the other aspects of things. But a pro can, and does. Perhaps it’s training to get to that level of awareness. Perhaps it’s a honed instinct. I don’t know, but it raises all kinds of possibilities.
Wanna get better at, say, ping-pong? Start to notice the opponent’s racket hand. Is it forehand or backhand? Is it low or high in relation to the table? Is there spin applied, or not? Top spin, or backspin? You wanna be a better than average player” Start to notice the things that the average player cannot or does not.
Still with me? It gets even better, in terms of revelatons.
I think of God’s perfection, and it seems that perhaps that is an aspect of God that we haven’t considered. God does have the awareness and the inclination to see ALL the variables, and not only in the now, but the past and present. He knows what went on to get a person to the point where he is contemplating a Backgammon move, or a ping-pong stroke. He can see every variable in the “now:” the trickle of sweat dripping to the palm of the attacker’s bat, the extra sticky drop of perspiration that makes the die stick an extra fraction of a millionth of a second to the hand. Then, He has the ability to see the outcome in the future: The way the die will roll off the microscopic tuft of felt, 17.89516345 centimeters from the exact point of release from the gamer’s hand, or the way the small cloud of bee pollen wafts into the ping-pong ball, spinning it ever so slightly just a little bit less. That’s why God, in one way, is perfect: He has the capacity and the ability and the awareness and the wherewithal to see every little thing, in the past, the present, and the future, and so he can know what will happen. It looks like magic to us, who haven’t the capacity, ability, awareness or wherewithal to do even a millionth of what is necessary.
Walks at lunch in the noonday heat are so good, sometimes!
Filed under: Observations, Religion, Science, Tech |
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August 6, 2008
Some idiot called into Sean Hannity’s radio show yesterday, which I happened to catch as I was driving home and needed some voice/noise to fill the void. The idiot claimed that we no longer need to drill, because prices are coming down right now and we’re not drilling at all.
If you’re thinking, “non sequitor” right now, go to the head of the class.
Then I read on “Think Progress” - some Lefty blog/Web site - chiding the Republicans for believing that their coupla-days-old “political stunt” was responsible for the lowering of prices.
“Think Progress” got it wrong, but that’s expected from a Lefty blog intent on covering for the irresponsibility of its political masters.
Here’s what I think is the real reason for the lowering of prices:
America is apparently resolved to do something about the deplorable state of affairs in its “energy house,” and it is showing in the prices at the pump. A similar thing happened in the 1970s, when soaring gas prices then forced odd/even day rationing, and real pain at the pumps. America started talking seriously about how to put its energy house in order, and OPEC eased off on its stranglehold. Seems the real fear in OPEC is that the U.S. will do something to make their oceans of crude obsolete.
And fear they should. America is still the leader in capitalism, and that, Dear Friends, means that someone, somewhere, is probably working on a Mr. Fusion or John Galt Static Electricity engine, and that technology will make its inventor a very rich man. We have some of the best minds in the world, and - AND! - the freedom to pursue it, intellectually, socially, philosophically, and no king, tsar, tyrant or potentate can stop us. The rest of the world knows this, and quakes in their boots when they consider the awesome might of a determined America.
Take that in stride, Rest of the World. The same phrase uttered by the Japanese Admiral after the attack on Pearl Harbor applies today, and the Rest of the World knows it: “I fear we have awakened a slumbering giant.”
What did the idiot caller think was responsible for the drop in prices these last few weeks? Nancy Pelosi’s stonewalling? No, her tactics suit the sheiks just fine. What does “Think Progress” think causes prices to go down? It is the determination that others see rising in America to solve the energy dependence issue, once and for all. Suddenly, the oceans of oil lapping on the sandy shores of sheikdoms seem more like an environmental clean up mess, rather than an economic opportunity to be exploited by the sheiks to the detriment of the U.S.
“Think Progress” lambasted the GOP Reps and Senators continuing to talk in Washington, and lampooned them for their talk, when in fact, it is the dialog that’s been going on the past few weeks, if not months - not the past three or four days - that is responsible. The GOP’s newfound spine and voice in the last three days is just the most recent manifestation of the growing discontent with Pelosi’s and her ilk’s stonewalling.
A couple of things the Left fails to grasp (besides honesty, integrity, responsibility, virtue, economics, and capitalism) are the laws of supply and demand. When supply is increased, the price goes down. What the Left fails to see - among other things! - is, in this case, even the talk of affecting supply has a consequence in the market, and in this case, for the good.
Another dirty little secret the Left in this country is trying to do is talk down the economy. They did it in 1992, with Bill Clinton saying “it’s the worst economy in 50 years,” and it worked for them then. Now, the Left - which includes not only Pelosi, Reid and the other Socialists in Congress, but almost all the “Old Media” (broadcast and print) as well as George Soros’ funded Leftists like “MoveOn.org” and “Think Progess” - is actively trying to disseminate gloom and doom in a run-up to November’s elections. You watch, the naysayers will intensify their vitriol, in hopes that The Annointed One, Barack I, will acsend to the throne and reign in peace and prosperity. If he succeeds, you watch: Come January 21, 2009 or so, suddenly, everything will become much rosier under The Exalted and Benevolent Leader.
But don’t fall for the talk from the Left on this. Listen to the talk on the Right.
Filed under: Gub'Mint At Work, Politics |
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August 6, 2008
So I have conducted an exhaustive study of Complaint Choirs on YouTube, and can now feel quite confident to bring you my analysis of these productions.
My favorite, after hearing the Finnish, Birmingham (England), Hamburg (Germany) and St. Petersburg (Russia) choirs is…drum roll, please…the envelope, please…
The St. Petersburg Complaints Choir (a.k.a. Khor Zhalopshchikov Peterburga).
And not just for the accordion, either, because they had a quite charming and catchy chorus:
Why did you, Peter, miraculous builder,
built our city in such pestilent climate amidst mosquitoes?
Why do we keep on loving when love is so painful?
Why are we always dissatisfied with something?
OK, on with the analysis.
It seems there must be, at the very minimum, an electric piano. Optional instruments seem to include, an accordion.
The use of a bullhorn is encouraged, especially by a shouting male member of the ensemble.
There must be a mocking reference to a computer programming language. I heard Java maligned in Helsinki, and C++ cursed roundly in St. Petersburg, which leaves a whole host of possibilities yet:
- Visual Basic
- Assembly
- Pascal
- BASIC
- Ada
- C
- DOS
- HTML
- JavaScript
- Python
- Perl
- PHP
But I digress.
Women’s travails in the world of men seem to be a popular theme, chiefly, broken heels in escalators, insufficient loos at the institute, low pay, jerks who propose and real men who do not, and something about the tram smelling on Line 3, (though that affliction was likely shared by more than just the Estrogen-based life forms, believe me!)
There needs to be some chorus or refrain.
The production must last between 9 minutes and 28 seconds, and 9 minutes and 47 seconds. The final minute and a half may be devoted to street sounds, inexplicable blank stretches captured on film, and the occasional bumping of the poor-quality microphone used in the recording.
A paper folder - preferably color-coordinated - should be distributed to each choir member.
A leader, a sort of maestro, is an integral part of the production.
Choir members should, as much as humanly possible, refrain from smiling, dancing to the accordion/organ, or laughing. (Most, however, fail in this most grievously.)
Finally, the lyrics should be rendered in easy-to-read, Arial white text below the picture, in a black frame, to give the prerequisite somberness to the whole proceeding. This is, after all, a harmonious bitch session, and should be treated as such, no matter the qualifications of all concerned.
Many, many moons ago, in the city of Birmingham, England (if memory serves), there was assembled an orchestra of amateur musicians, many who could barely play their chosen instruments, who nonetheless wended their atunal way through, again, if memory serves, Strauss’ “Blue Danube Waltz.” It was, by any account, horrifying and fascinating, moronic and brilliant, stupendous and stupifying. I have always marveled at the ability of assembled like-minded persons to pull off such stunts regardless of ridicule, torment or talent. I am astounded at the minds who conceived of such dalliances, and who organized them, and brought them to questionable fruition. I applaud them when I can, watch them as I would a 47-car pile-up in the closing scene of any randomly selected episode of “C.H.i.P.s,” and recommend them as loudly and often as I possibly can to any and all passers-by, literally or figuratively speaking.
I wonder what it would take to organize a Complaints Choir where I live… 
Filed under: Entertainment, Humor, Observations |
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August 5, 2008
It’s a minute or two past 8 p.m., and I have the happy tears of a fine documentary concerning the Michigan-Ohio State football rivalry lubricating my ocular orbs. It is, in my book, the hallmark of a good documentary when it can evoke from me such emotions, when normally, I wouldn’t have given a damn over “just a game.” I am actually looking forward to the third Saturday in November this year.
It is sunny, the clouds of the morning having given way to the gray-blue hues of a trying-to-be-sunny noon, to the brilliant sunshine of this fine August dusk. There is maybe an hour of sun left, and I have chosen to enjoy it sitting on my front balcony, in a very comfy folding chair, scribing on my wirelessly connected laptop.
There is something that compels me to write, to capture in ones and zeroes this happy, exuberant feeling. There is little else that occupies my mind, just the gratitude of being alive this day. Nothing at work contributed, and little in my free time, other than the feeling that I am a part of this time, in my own little corner of it. I can watch the intricate, intimate machinations of a small company struggling from day to day, I can watch a well-crafted documentary on a damn game, and I can revel in the pleasure of carting my laptop from room to room, unencumbered by copper, because I configured it that way.
Satisfaction. That kinda sums it up at the moment. Not an especial gratitude for my particular station, but more of a general oneness with the world at large. I believe I could be a beggar in Beijing, a vagabond in Volgograd, a bum in Berlin, or a loafer in London, and I would still feel this good.
Maybe it’s the summer warmth, or the as-yet-distant call of approaching fall. Perhaps it’s the ionized air, or the smell of grass mown a day or two ago. Perhaps it is even the occasional waft of a westerly breeze, floating along the gold-tinged sky that fills me with a certain grace for this time, this place.
There is the comfort of the summer warmth, reminiscent of a desert I once knew, and at the same time, of fields that glowed as they had glowed under farmers’ hands for hundreds of years. I have seen such sights, and each one - and hundreds more - fill me with a love for the earth, and this place. more than I can perhaps know at this stage.
The sun has now dipped behind an approaching bank of clouds, which an airplane hustles past. An ice cream truck’s synthesized melody has me mentally fumbling for coins, and starting to run to the curb, hoping I will make it in time, and gosh, I hope they still have those chocolate thingies, with the crunchy stuff, and vanilla ice cream ’round the middle. In the far distance, a train’s lonely whistle sounds, and that, too, beckons me.
A little girl races on foot against her dad, who maneuvers his SUV into the parking lot behind her. Somewhere, a lawn mower is rushing to cut the last blades of sun-burned grass before the last light fades. Over the roof, I hear the echoes of a car on the highway that runs behind my building. The fountain in the small pond that adorns my complex sounds for the first time, as a general quiet descends. The sky that is still being kissed by the sun is a sort of pinkish-silver, and I am heartened by the old sailors’ adage: “Red sky at night, sailors’ delight.” There’s enough of it for me to hope for a nice day come tomorrow. A carful of slackers rumbles past, sun-burned arms holding cigarettes and just the hint of a too-loud rock song in the background. A cicada punctuates the neighborhood’s calm with its electric buzz.
There are a million possibilities at every second, and to be aware, to sift and sort each one, to categorize in terms of was, and is, and might be. Such is the joy of my solitude on a balcony in a small suburb of a big city, on a summer’s eve, ‘neath a darkening sky.
There is a line, from the most excellent film, “Never Cry Wolf,” where the hero is sitting beside a lonely lake, playing a bassoon, calling for the wolf pack to come and fetch its own. He says, “I don’t know when it was that I became a watcher of things. I wish I could just say, ‘Thank you,’ just so, into the universe.”
Filed under: Observations |
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