Going Down in Flames

Well, I've finally decided. After a couple of years of infrequent updating, it's time for this blog to call it quits. I started it the week I graduated high school and it's still here, almost eight years later. I have one more post coming down the pike and then I'm going to leave it to the tumbleweeds or cobwebs or whatever springs up on old shuttered blogs.

I had almost forgotten how much fun I had doing this. I suspect every act of writing is an act of cultivating a persona, because a real person is just too complex to put down on paper. I didn't realize that when I started out and it shows in my early posts that are super-earnest mental coredumps*. Later posts actually seem to display a sense of humor and some personal insight, something my real world friends have given up on me ever finding. My writing "voice" certainly improved over the years, even if my speaking voice didn't.

Finally, I'd like to thank my readers. I made a habit of alternately denying their existence and insulting them, because I mainly wrote this blog for myself. But I know for a fact that at least 4 people I know in real life either are or were regular readers. I apologize for that fact that I have been as bad at keeping up to date with some of them as I have at keeping up to date with this blog**. Reading some old comments reminded me of how you guys actually are people and not the ignorant hivemind that the internet turns into in many places.

Like I said before, the writing has always mainly been for me. So I'm sure I'm not done writing altogether. I'll probably open another blog, probably more anonymously than this one. If you know me personally, get in contact somehow and maybe I'll let you know where I'm going next.

Or maybe not. I haven't decided.

---

*I wonder if writers who don't think they have a persona are like scientists who think they don't have a metaphysics, where it turns out you actually just have a crappy half-baked one.

Free Idea

I don't have any use for this myself, but if you're trying to name a German basketball team, consider "Deutschland Über Ballers."

Albert Pujols: 2001-2011

I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed. Here's a man who had a chance to be a legend, a god-like figure in a city that has loved him for over a decade. Instead he chose to be a mercenary, taking crazy money to go to play out the end of his career in a city that expects him to live up to an insanely big contract. I hope it works out for him, because he's a great player. But it didn't go so hot for A-Rod.

Re: The Policeman Who Cussed at me for Crossing the Street

I got chewed out by a policeman directing traffic while I was coming home from SummerFest last night. He was at the corner making a generic "go ahead" motion. The cars weren't going, so we assumed that meant we should walk. When we started crossing, he dropped a sentence that I calculated at 50% profanity (depending on how you parse blasphemies against the name of God).

That really made me mad. Not because I don't respect authority (I'm a programmer so I believe that things in general go smoother if everyone respects and follows established protocol. Yeah, I'm looking at you, Internet Explorer). I was mad because I think proper authority has the responsibility to treat people as humans, not as subjects to be ruled over and abused. On the other hand, this guy was directing traffic at 12:30am, so maybe it's just a sign that he's not an individual whose tact and interpersonal skills are needed for defusing attempted suicides and hostage negotiations.

GK Chesterton, of course, explains my point even better than I could.

A certain magistrate told somebody whom he was examining in court that he or she "should always be polite to the police." I do not know whether the magistrate noticed the circumstance, but the word "polite" and the word "police" have the same origin and meaning. Politeness means the atmosphere and ritual of the city, the symbol of human civilisation. The policeman means the representative and guardian of the city, the symbol of human civilisation....

The idea of the sacred city is not only the link of them both, it is the only serious justification and the only serious corrective of them both. If politeness means too often a mere frippery, it is because it has not enough to do with serious patriotism and public dignity; if policemen are coarse or casual, it is because they are not sufficiently convinced that they are the servants of the beautiful city and the agents of sweetness and light...

Politeness is an armed guard, stern and splendid and vigilant, watching over all the ways of men; in other words, politeness is a policeman. A policeman is not merely a heavy man with a truncheon: a policeman is a machine for the smoothing and sweetening of the accidents of everyday existence. In other words, a policeman is politeness; a veiled image of politeness - sometimes impenetrably veiled. But my point is here that by losing the original idea of the city, which is the force and youth of both the words, both the things actually degenerate. Our politeness loses all manliness because we forget that politeness is only the Greek for patriotism. Our policemen lose all delicacy because we forget that a policeman is only the Greek for something civilised. A policeman should often have the functions of a knight-errant. A policeman should always have the elegance of a knight-errant.

See What Happens When I Can't Sleep?

Ok, so I already posted this on facebook, but it's not like I've ever been a stickler for originality before.

Coming this fall:

How I Met Your Murderer: Fox's gripping crime drama in which a retired detective tells his children the story of how he cracked a case...and how that led to them being born!

The Orifice: NBC's hilarious proctological mock-umentary series!

Hawaii Fievel: America's favorite mouse adventurer fights tropical crime!

The Deuce of Cakes: TLC's reality series starring customers who explain how they felt the day after eating the plastic-based frosting used on cake building shows!

If you thought I was above TV-themed poop joke puns, you've clearly never met me. "Proudly underperforming already-low standards since 2004™"

Because Google Doesn't Understand Context

Today, I encountered an idea I had never considered before...Can you freeze eggs to keep them fresh?.

The consensus was that this a bad idea because eggs explode when frozen. Well, that's just too good to pass up, so I hit Google image search to see what that looks like.

The first hit for "frozen eggs" is a cool picture of an eggshell split open, with icy yolk hanging out. The second picture is... Jennifer Aniston.



Damn, Google. That's cold.*

---

* Pun actually not intended but happily accepted.

Open Letter to Mike Quade

Complaining about stolen bases in a blowout loss is loser talk. The best revenge is winning. Or, failing that, beaning the guy in his next at-bat. If the Cubs don't have a pitching staff that can accomplish either of those, you've got bigger problems than stolen bases.

The Face of Evil

You want to know who's sneaky and a little bit evil? Hanes!

"Of course!" I'm sure you're telling me right now. "They're a giant corporation who dumps plutonium in poor people's drinking water and uses Micronesian sweatshop labor and fosters poor body image among young girls!*"

"No!" I respond. The conspiracy goes deeper even than that. It's more shocking even than the fact that they subsidize Michael Jordan's Hitler-stache**. Hanes has done the seemingly unthinkable — they've built planned obsolescence into socks!

Now, I don't buy socks all that often. Mostly just when I'm too lazy to do laundry I wear out my old ones. But I always buy the same socks. Low-cut, white, men's, size 10-13. And every time, they're different! What that means is that I can't match them with any socks I currently own. When I lose a sock on the laundry or wear a hole in it and throw it out, it doesn't match with any new socks. It can't be paired!

Sometimes the only change is the pattern on the bottom, so I can get away with mismatches as long as I know I'm not going to be taking my shoes off anywhere. But other times, they change the style of the ankle-hem*** and it doesn't even seem to match when I have my shoes on.

The problem is there's not really an alternative, unless you want to go down some dark rabbit-hole of sock geekery. And while I embrace geekery in many forms, socks are further than even I am prepared to go.

---

* I have no idea if any of those things are true, but little details like "true" don't tend to get in the way of people who say things like that, anyway.

** There's a little something here to offend everybody:



*** I have no idea if that's what it's called, but I think you know what I mean.

Breaking Up is Hard

It's always a sad day when you get dumped via text message. Especially when you didn't know you were dating anyone to begin with.

I reproduce the text message conversation verbatim:

From: 555-555-5555 (3:32 pm)
I dnt want th truck keys. Jus want u to b a good person bu i have no control over that. I jus need to move on n realize u always gon b that person n it dsnt make sense but im sure ul get what ur seeking

I didn't respond.

From: 555-555-5555 (3:33 pm)
Ur right bout everything n im not gon give u th sick disfuntion that u need to stick around

I didn't respond.

From: 555-555-5555 (3:36 pm)
But when i get my truck thats it. Hope u Change n look For smthing good in ur life 1day.Jus sad that u want all this. U def changed for th worse

I didn't respond.

From: 555-555-5555 (4:05 pm)
Ok guessin ur playin the silent treatment game now. Im boardin my plane. U play so many games it must be a blaaaaast! Yaaay! Ur so cool! Hehehe

Ok, it's getting real now. Probably should respond.

From: Me (4:17 pm)
Hi
Im not sure who this is... I think you have the wrong number
im sorry youre having a bad day

Reading that again, I wonder if it sounds a little snide. I was honestly intending to be sympathetic. She was having a rough day. Anyway, I never got a response or a truck.

The "Best Response to This Story Award" goes to Coach who asked if I was sure I hadn't subscribed to a country music lyric service.

So Taylor Swift*, if you're reading this I hope you're doing ok. Honestly, you're better off without that loser.

---

* Yes, a pop culture reference only a little over two years old. I believe that's a brand new record for this blog.

Free Marketing Advice!

How is it that both Apple and Google have passed up the opportunity to use the tagline "The television will be revolutionized"?

Your Thought of the Day

Isn't Sammy Hagar going to feel foolish if scientists discover another way to rock? Unless you have a rock-solid nonexistence proof that has been thoroughly peer reviewed, it's probably not wise to make such stark pronouncements.

Easily Confused English Words

Working with international contractors has taught me a lot of things. For instance I've learned several English words that I don't think of as related are more similar than English speakers might think.

The morning of our epic USA vs India softball game, I had a discussion with the captain of Team India about what equipment we would be using. The conversation went something like this:

Captain: What other equipment do we need?

Me: You don't absolutely need to but I'm going to wear cleats.

Other contractor overhearing the conversation: [shocked look] What? Why?

Me: They're better for running.

Captain and me: Conversation continues...

OCOTC: [Sudden look of comprehension] Oh! I thought you meant kilts.

Also "pecan" and "bacon" are not related. Even vegetarians can eat pecans.

I can neither confirm nor deny at this time whether kilts are better for running.

Going Thought Blind

Ahem. Well, then. I think we all learned an important lesson about late night drinking and blogging, didn't we? Let's just move on then.

Have you ever gone thought-blind? I've noticed this phenomenon before, but I only put a name to it recently. It happens when you're so lost in thought that you lose track of what you're physically doing. One time while I was really concentrating at work, I got up and went to the bathroom. Suddenly I snapped back to self-awareness and had a moment of panic as I realized I HAD MY PANTS DOWN AT WORK!

Another time, I actually tried to carry on a conversation. I went to buy a drink and the conversation with the girl at the register went something like this:
Register Girl: Hi
Me: Hi, how are you?
RG: I'm fine.
Me [anticipating "and you?"]: Good, thanks.

So I guess the question is, have you ever gone thought-stupid?

Like Who?

I write like
David Foster Wallace

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

That's what iwl.me says anyway. Also, my mom says I'm a very special and talented boy, but that's probably mostly because she doesn't know about this blog.

Wedding Season!

I love pretty much everything about weddings. Free meals. Open bars. Dressing like James Bond. The only time it makes sense to listen to "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang. I don't think I need to enumerate all the reasons to you because if you're reading this, odds are that you have been at all the same weddings as I have anyway.

Here's the weird thing about wedding season. The sheer number of friends or passing-acquaintances-who-you-see-at-events-like-weddings who ask you (and by "you" I mean "me," but probably "you" too) "So, are you dating anyone?" then give you this funny look like they're wondering why you, America's Most Eligible /Bachelor(ette)*$/, are still single^{† ‡}. Sorry to disappoint all my married (or seminary-attending) friends (or passing-acquaintances-who-I-see-at-events-like-weddings). As another friend put it, "It's not a disease."^¶

---

^† I'd just like to note that I punctuated the hell out of that sentence.

^‡Also, that regular expression parses in Ruby. For Unix "grep -e", remove the forward slashes and substitute square brackets for parentheses. For Perl, pound randomly on your keyboard and see what happens. For Java, copy and paste all thirty lines of boilerplate from the first site that shows up in your Google search. For Python, just walk down the hall and ask Guido because you probably already work at Google.

^¶ Another footnote? What is this, "The Wasteland?"

Rollin' With Ballmer's Posse

Microsoft has literally become that rich kid from high school that no one wants to be friends with: using money to make people "like" them.

Spoiler Alert!

An overview of the travel/time travel on Lost:


Click for full size

Also, we learn that I can not draw the United States. Or airplanes. But I think the spelling is pretty good.

Judging By the Commercials...

..the key demographic for The Office on CW18 at 10:30pm is people who might buy an Audi and people who need lawyers.

Have I become a Goldman Sachs executive?!

Hypocrisy, Deception, or Feigned Ignorance*

I was talking to a friend today about a wedding he's going to this weekend. It was originally planned to be outdoors but the wedding planner convinced the bride to move indoors because it was likely to rain on her wedding day.

"That's ironic" I said.

Either no one got it or no one thought it was funny (presumably the latter) because there was no reaction. Which is alright for everyone else because they aren't the ones with the song running through their head the rest of the afternoon.

It's like ray-ee-yain... On your wehhh-diiing day!

Ha! You're welcome suckers!

* I rarely need to feign.

Have I Ever Said that I Love Ruby?

In just 34 lines of code, I wrote a script to take all of the files in a particular directory, search for the desired filetype and resize those images to a specific maximum size.

Here's a sample method:

def append_before_extension(filepath, append_string)
 ext = File.extname(filepath)
 base = File.basename(filepath, ext)
 return base + append_string + ext
end

Why can't Java make file processing so simple? Why can't I just use Ruby all the time?