They are repeating the Satanist Goth Horrible Youth of today on the World Service. :-(

I've said it before: the really interesting politics are never about good versus evil. That's easy. Nearly everybody's for good, and against evil, so it tends to be really easy to unite people. No, when politics gets really interesting is when it's about good versus good: when we have to choose between two incompatible good things, or when we can't currently afford both good things on a list and have to choose one for now. Well, where politics gets not merely interesting, but grimly interesting, not merely grimly interesting, but really tough is when it's about evil versus evil: when no matter what choice we make, something truly awful is going to happen, and it's going to be our fault either way, and what remains is to decide which of the two evils is the lesser.

I've been thinking a lot about the Myanmar cyclone damage, wondering which of two truly monstrous evils the world community was going to settle on. Because the wind had barely stopped blowing before we knew two things. We knew that the military government of Myanmar just plain doesn't have the airlift capability to get enough food, water, and medicine to the people in the hardest-hit coastal areas, even if they had it; that to save literally tens of thousands of innocent lives, they were going to need help. And we also knew, again before the wind even stopped blowing, that the ruling junta had flatly ruled out accepting any such help. By day two, we saw clearly why. No ambiguity, no conspiracy theory, no doubt; it ran on Myanmar's own official government TV stations. The junta is confiscating all aid that enters the country, relabeling it in the name of the ruling generals and their close friends, and only delivering it to their political supporters -- even to political supporters that weren't affected by the cyclone. Which leaves the world's humanitarian aid community, both governments and non-governmental organizations, to do some very, very ugly math.

If we do absolutely nothing, then at least 40,000 people will die of hunger, thirst, and infectious disease. And it will be partly our fault, for having decided it was better to let them all die than to help the junta punish its internal opposition, real or suspected.

If we deliver the aid to the ruling junta, probably at least half of those 20,000 people will still die of hunger, thirst, and infectious disease ... and it will be partly our fault, because we will have helped out those who chose the slain, and because we will have directly funded the junta with the half of the aid that they confiscate and keep for themselves and their supporters.

And there really isn't a third option. It's a mark of how desperate everybody is not to make this choice that some diplomats and reporters have actually floated a trial balloon: what if we send the Marine Corps in to seize and hold a beachhead, then send in the Seabees to build a temporary port and landing strip for the aid workers? Or to evacuate the dying? But it's a fantasy solution; aside from the fact that the US military is kind of busy right now, fighting two land wars in Asia already, it'd be flatly illegal. Nor is it a given that the people who need the aid wouldn't join the junta in rising up against us; it's not as if we have any credibility left on the subject of invading countries for their own good. Nor are the American people going to put up with even a half-serious suggestion that we risk American soldiers' lives for tiny little Myanmar.

So all we can do, all we could do, was threaten to withhold the aid while trying to persuade Myanmar's few remaining allies, notably China, to try to talk them into accepting international assistance, or more to the point, into letting people receive aid without the generals getting personal credit and without first checking their names against a list of possible pro-democracy subversives. Since the junta knows full well that the US government, like nearly every government in the world except for China's, would really like to aid pro-democracy subversives in Myanmar, there was never any serious chance they were going to give in. They can let 40,000 or 50,000 people die without losing a night of sleep, and would rather do so than let opponents of the regime, foreign or domestic, claim any credit for doing anything good in Myanmar. So they just kept us reminded, day after day, how many people were dying, how many more people were going to die, leaving it to us to decide which of two monstrous evils we were going to pick.

Over the weekend, one by one, all of the world's governments and NGOs started shipping food directly to the junta.

It makes my teeth itch, sure, to prop up a military dictatorship. But to be fair, they're no worse a dictatorship than probably 40 or 50 other countries' rulers, nor are they the only military junta we're supporting, at least a couple of which are way worse than Myanmar. (Half of "Stan-istan" comes to mind.) And either way, we were basically screwed, let alone the tens of thousands who are going to die no matter which choice we made. So however I feel about it, I'm hesitant to second-guess anybody's decision, in either direction; I'm far from sure how I'd decide, if the mess landed in my lap as anything other than a theoretical problem. But as a theoretical problem, it is an interesting one, isn't it? Grimly interesting. And a genuinely tough call.

The tired level from all the stuff earlier this week is dying down, and the side-edges of the big basement project that had to be hurryupandshovedaside are being taken care of.  Just an awful lot to do, all in all, digging through the rest of this stuff.  And I’m in something of an overwhelmed funk from it all.  *sigh*

It’s pretty clear that the dry-out procedures worked, and there’s no residual mildew or anything from the water getting in.

• 16:15 Playing taxi driver (no, iPhone: not taco) to three house guests without {motor,bi}cycles. I hate cars and parking. #
• 17:17 I love this city: sitting in dolores park, I just signed a petition to rename our sewage treatment plant after George W Bush. #

(posted using LoudTwitter)

This is getting back closer to the original recipe. Eaten straight it is a little bit bitter, but it has a good flavor and the heat builds nicely.

Octane Boost IV 080517
19 habaneros, blended in oil so they'd wash down
Fry/roast them in a dutch oven on the stove.
Mix in 4 oz of African Bird Cayenne powder Continue cooking and roasting until dry and roasted.
Note: Ventilate the area well, the fumes can get a bit rough.
Blend and mix in (15) 7oz cans of chipotles.
Mix in 4 oz of cumin.
Cook down, be careful to stir frequently or you will get "explosive bubbles" that splatter octane boost all over the kitchen.

A reminder to those interested: The auction of the signed proof of Steve’s new novel, Jhegaala, ends today. Good luck to those who have been bidding on it. For all you other eager readers, the novel itself will be out July 8.

As mentioned in the comments previously, we’re going to restrict discussion of the book on this blog until the release date, at which time we’ll put up a special spoiler thread for detailed discussion. I really look forward to discussing this book with some of Steve’s other fans when the time comes. :)

(Originally posted at Words Words Words by kit. Please leave any comments there.)

The Mac nightmare just gets worse and worse. My broadband connection is almost unusable on the Mac. I just want the iMac to die.

Edit: I'm back on the PC now. And guess what? The internet is working just fine.

naturecalendar -- all about nature in New York City

beverly hills chihuahua????

wtf is disney thinking?

how did this get greenlighted for theaters?

if anything this is direct to dvd at most.

other news

Prince Caspian is good but not great imho.

So Agent Weasel and I were out this afternoon, looking for socks for the Agent.

At one point we found ourselves face-to-face with a display of leg warmers.

I said to the Agent "Just say no to leg warmers. I don't want the '80s to have been in vain."

She looked right at the leg warmers and said "No!"

Which cracked me up.

(Don't blame me for my internal jukebox...)

This man more than likely had a hand in saving my life; how much of one, I can't tell yet. Funny thing, I never knew him.... but I know his nephew, and so do a lot of you. He's none other than our own mdlbear.

To life!

***CRASH***

Jacob Robins, NIH ThyCa researcher, was 85.

Once upon a time, bathtubs came with (1) a spout, (2) a knob for Hot and one for Cold, (3) a showerhead, and (4) a lever to seal or unseal the drain. To send water to the showerhead, one sent it out the spout first (adjusting volume and temp as desired), and then lifted a button on the top of the spout. Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey, and the Hot knob is on the left.

It is still possible to buy a setup like this today. Barely. Rejuvenation Houseparts, for example, has it for walk-in customers but not on the website. "Not much call", you see. Ahem.

No, what you're supposed to want today ( Read more... )

Weds. picked up rental car, drove to Northampton & met with Writing Group to go over Delia's new draft of the sequel to CHANGELING (due out next year, due at the publisher's in - well, let's not get too specific....); up the next morning to the Brimfield Antiques Fair, where we discovered that it is not as easy as you'd wish to find an Antique Sideboard that holds a lot of stuff and is not more than 72" and is long enough to hold LOTS of stuff. Did acquire nice little table for front hall. Returned West to Amherst and met with WG to go over Sarah's new novel and eat wonderful food and attempt to be critical yet inspiring. And so to bed. Next morning to Storage Unit in N'hampton that is 5 times the size of NYC one and costs 75% less, moved boxes around. (Note to self: Copyedited ms. of TPOTS temporarily in Box 015, as box of TPOTS draft is full. Remember this next time someone asks for something for charity auction. Or wait until really famous? possibly dead? might increase in value) Then on to M--'s to pick up new "28 Rue St Sulpice" (website to come) silk dyed outfit to take to elisem at Wiscon. Lingered to try all new pieces on again. Begged & borrowed 2 fabulous jackets to make selves glorious & advertise friend's wares. Remembered RStS bizcards to hand to people in case they want one, too. Then back to Brimfield in the rain, found great coatrack with eagle claw feet. Figured out how to get it in car. Getting late. Drove East to tony Boston suburb, ate Chinese Food for White People (much meat, little flavor), got friends' key from under doormat, tried to stay awake while waiting for them to come home. Read Grace Paley & realized finally old enough to understand The LIttle Disturbances of Man. (Took long enough!) "The Loudest Voice" still favorite story. Even better now older. All worth it when small girl child came home & threw arms around legs, demanding kisses and why did we move to New York? we'll miss her dance recital! Got improv version of dance recital next morning. Ran out to stock car up on Trader Joe's, then showered & changed for old friend Brad's wedding. Thought would know no one there, but publishing acquaintaince (YA editor) from NYC met 6 months ago on panel for librarians in CT turns out to be sister of the bride! Small world? Not really; we get around, is all. Sun came out for wedding, everyone danced, bride-made cake best ever. Headed for home, with stop at beloved, much-missed Radcliffe Pottery Sale, swearing not to buy anything 'cause where would we put it? just looking for wedding present for (nevermind who!) - but waylaid by amazing leaf mugs & bowls. Useful. Practical. Really. (In Boston? Sale continues Sunday til 7 pm, and the Seconds are out - maybe you could get the bowl with the little dragon for just $10!)

And so, I hope, to bed -- after checking the Interfictions Auction, of course, since 4 amazing pieces are ending tomorrow.....

At the theatre last week, another patron left the washroom without washing his hands.

What made it worse it that he felt the need to dry them.

I am still completing stuff for school and today I did some watercolors - no writing but watercolors - they turned out nifty too - I may try to scan and post them for you. I have another watercolor I need to do tomorrow and then some more painting (these are all art type painting - not house wall painting which also needs doing)

I received my Excel final test - he wants me to do it at home :))))))))))))) that is made of fabulous.

My Bio teacher - the one I've been complaining about - emailed me tonight with a study group set up for Monday. MONDAY - pfft - the bad part is they help so I will probably go - SUCKS SUCKS SUCKS

Enough is never enough.

But watercolor - Did I tell you I rather like watercolor and always have? - I want to someday be good at it.

:)

Lost another friend to the wiles of Mary Kay Ash.  Woman’s been dead for years but her company lives on and still ropes in innocent people who think, “I’m gonna make me a million from this!” (My apologies to Bette Midler.)  She probably won’t, Mary Kay is, after all, just another MLM company and the chances of her working her way to the coveted pink caddy are pretty slim.
(What is it with that damned pink car anyway?  IME, Cadillac’s tend to be gas hogs, a real plus in these day when gas will probably be $4.00 a gallon before the Fourth of July.  And they all look like granny-mobiles, you pass one and you pretty much expect to see someone with grey hair driving.  Added to which is the fact that that is one of the ugliest colors for a car I’ve ever seen and even though I’m stuck driving a city bus, you couldn’t pay me to drive one.)
Just remembering my own experience with Mary Kay makes me shudder.  I’d gone back to college at the age of 30 and like most returning college students had little time and less money.  A fact I was bitching about to some friends at lunch when an acquaintance piped up and said, “What you need to do is go into business for yourself.  I can take you to one of our meetings this weekend, so you can see what it’s all about”.  Turns out she sold Mary Kay part-time.  Now I knew all about Mary Kay, of course; been roped into a couple of parties by friends whose friends or family members flogged the stuff.  Wasn’t terribly impressed with it, IMO, I could get the same results from products from the drugstore at a much better price.  But I figured it couldn’t hurt to listen, extra cash is always a good thing.
I’m not exaggerating.  That meeting was probably the freakiest thing I’d been involved in up to that date.  There must have been at least 150 women crammed into that banquet hall, all of them in skirts, nylons and heels.  There I sat, in a pair of slacks and my best sweater, feeling more than a little out of place.  I later found out Mary Kay reps have a pretty strict dress code for theses little gatherings, full court dress and trowel on the cosmetics.  Nice of my friend to warn me.   There on stage were a number of ladies wearing, to my eye, very tacky polyester blazers.  Four of them were in red and one, who was being deferred to by the others, in purple.
Because I was a newcomer I got the “privilege” of being trotted up on stage and used as a model for some new makeup line they wanted the girls to plug.  All eyes on me in my office casual and favorite pair of low-heeled Keds ankle boots.   I was being weighed in the balance and found decidedly underdressed.   After a makeover (and a bit of well deserved public embarrassment) the lady in the tacky purple jacket (I found out later she was a regional sales director and the purple blazer is as coveted by Mary Kay klones as the green Masters jacket is by golfers) got up to speak.  The speech and the reactions it got could only be described as a combination of a baptist revival meeting, the Republican national convention and outtakes from “The Stepford Wives” (the creepy 70s version).  Apparently, all the worlds problems, from overpopulation to war and global warming could be solved by getting out there and selling more overpriced skin care and recruiting more sucker...{ahem} consultants to flog the stuff with them.  The scariest part was the way those women (including my friend) were eating this up.  They just sat there, in rapt, worshipful awe, hanging on every verbal jewel that dripped from Purple Lady’s lips.  All the while, I’m thinking what a bunch of utter bullcrap but not daring to say so since the meeting was being held the next town over and my friend was my ride home.   After the meeting she and her district manger (one of the ladies in red blazers) took me out for coffee and proceeded to give me the full spiel on Mary Kay and why every red-blooded American woman should be selling it.  All I had to do was lay out $100 and they could promise me a full and happy life, giving my friends and family the skincare they deserved.  I promised to think about it and let them know (I didn’t feel like walking 25 miles home) but I’d already decided I wasn’t interested.  I didn’t want to enter an already saturated market or alienate family and friends.  Besides, seeing people getting that worked up over makeup frankly scared the hell out of me.
As for what we’re going to do about Mary Kay’s latest convert, I’m not sure.  Most of the rest of us aren’t the least bit interested in buying the stuff and less interested in selling it, so I’m sure we’ll be dropped like hot rocks.  The only way out that I can see is to do an intervention, with plenty of strawberry margaritas and showings of ‘Fried Green Tomatoes’, ‘Thelma & Louise’ and ‘How Stella got Her Grove Back’.  It may be rough, for those of us who love her, it’s the only way.

Argh. Had drill today, spent the day mostly cleaning weapons while there was a 'military expo' going on. Donated blood, watched the Old Guard perform---amazing---and went back to cleaning weapons. I must have cleaned ten M-16s, as well as an extremely filthy 203. Then we did paperwork and went home, stopping briefly at the PX so I could get a kettlebell, which is all spiritualmonkey's and ad_kay's fault. It is, of course, pink. Now that my front porch is all big and cleared off I can jump rope and stuff out there.

I came home to find that Ted Kennedy has been airlifted to the hospital, and that assholes are making Chappaquiddick jokes. What I say to those assholes is the same thing I say to the Clinton's blow job obsesso freaks:

Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.
Iraq.

Repeat until they fucking get it.

I was so tired I took a patchy nap when I got home, only to be wakened by the aforementioned asshole neighbors. Gee, neighbors, I heard it all before. Tonight it's this excuse, tomorrow it'll be that one. Bite me.

I am going to do a two-week training thing that will involve intensive hand-to-hand training as well as general fitness stuff. It'll be good for my back and shoulder. Plus it will add a whole new dimension to dealing with my neighbors.

Argh. The kitties are being exceptionally bad. I must go chase them around with a baseball bat.

Jacob Robbins; NIH Scientist Known for Thyroid Research (From The Washington Post, May 16, 2008.)

Jacob Robbins first set foot on the eighth floor of the Clinical Center at the National Institutes of Health in 1954. Claiming one of only two working labs available to him in the year-old hospital, he immediately launched what would become groundbreaking work on the function of the thyroid and the treatment of thyroid cancer, particularly cancer caused by exposure to radioactivity.

On May 12, Dr. Robbins died of cardiac arrest -- at the Clinical Center, not far from where his NIH work had begun 54 years earlier. He was 85.

"He died surrounded by the work he treasured," said Griffin P. Rodgers, director of the National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Diseases, or NIDDK.

I'll miss him.

1704 words on Seven for a Secret tonight. We have found the plot, and it is progressing. I'm still not sure exactly how it plays out, but Sebastien is the Scarlet Pimpernel.

17,000 / 30,000 (56.7%)

If there weren't this damned convention mucking up my week, I could have this done by next Monday.

*falls over in front of the television*

It occurred to me rather suddenly last night that here I am, a 61-year-old, notoriously reclusive and socially inept computer nerd, attempting to dispense avuncular advice on relationships, marriage, and psychology over the internet. And in person, I might add.

This strikes me as highly improbable, totally out of character, mildly amusing, and more than a little mind-boggling. I feel a little as though, after many years of playing an assortment of jesters and other fools, I have finally moved up to playing Polonius.

9 more weeks to the AAGT conference.

I think I'll be doing backchannel work on program planning pretty much right up to the start of it. *sigh* It'll be worth it if things go smoothly once we're there.

Go well, shiny shiny conference! Go well.

***

I could be watching the 2nd half of Deadwood Season 3, but I am reluctant to rush through it, because once it's gone, it over. It is no more. Woe!

So instead I am listening to music and cuddling Woodroffe bear, and trying to figure out if I can afford to go to the 11th International Gestalt Therapy Congress in Madrid next year - or for that matter, if I want to go at the cost. It's not very cheap, especially if I factor in the cost of accommodation. And I don't like the particulars of their student rate policy - students are only allowed to register as students if they are 35 or under! Which doesn't take into account mature students on postgraduate training courses; parts of my training group wouldn't qualify for that rate. I really don't like that!

And it's a hassle, as to qualify for the student rate, I'd have to print the registration form out and get my training director to sign and stamp it. And then post/fax it in, rather than my using the webform. And the downloadable registraion form is in Spanish - which I don't speak/read. So I've been tinkering with a online Spanish-English translator for the fields in the form I can't figure out, and costing everything up with an online currency converter (how on earth did people do this stuff before the days of the interwebs?!)

Because of all of that, I'm less keen on going than I was when I first heard about it. But, it cost me more to go to Vancouver. So... I don't think it's outside the realms of possibility. (And I wouldn't need a visa to visit Spain.)

***

Upstairs asked if they could play music tonight. I said "yes", so I am sleeping on the sofa tonight. Will sleep soon, I think.

Earlier today I read that Robert Frank's 1959 classic Pull My Daisy has been rereleased in NYC — this is the 26-minute film based on Jack Kerouac's one-act "The Beat Generation," notable for a cast that includes Alice Neel, Gregory Corso, Allen Ginsberg, Larry Rivers and Peter Orlovsky, among others, with Kerouc narrating.  I'd never  seen it until I found it online tonight.  Best entrance: Corso and Ginsberg, looking like the Kramdens' neighbors dropping by after work with a bottle of beer and a jug of  wine.  Best line: "The Lower East Side has produced all these gum-chewing poets."  Was this actually being made at the same moment as Godard's Breathless?

21st Century Beat:  "Dang!" Brand new music video from Buck 65, the Mount Uniacke, Nova Scotia golden boy who blew everyone away at the Airwaves Festival when I was in Reykjavik last fall.  Gotta love a rapper who works Glenn Gould and the penultimate line of Breathless into his act. 

A friend at adobe can get me an incredibly good deal on Adobe SW (he gets a limited number of each product a year), and I'm planning on taking him up on his offer. The question being, what should I get? Is lightroom a subset of photoshop? Are there mutually exclusive features between the different programs? photoshop, lightroom, elements ....

I need to read raw pentax files (.pef eventually .dng)
Adjust them for exposure, contrast, colorbalance, noise ....
output them as jpeg, tiff....
will want to print them eventually
Will want to move files between directories, copy them, delete them, preview them ...

Cleaning my office, packing, I came across an invitation to the 70th anniversary of the opening of the Lynn-Henley Building of the Birmingham Public Library (which, at the time, was the Birmingham Public Library). This is the same building I visited on Tuesday and spoke of in my first entry on Thursday, the reading room with the Ezra Winter murals. Anyway, so I found an invitation to the 70th anniversary, April 7th, 2002. The building was opened to the public in 1932. My Grandmother Ramey was 17 years old. The US President was Herbert Hoover. Amelia Earhart flew from the US to Ireland in 14 hours and 54 minutes. Anyway, here's a contemporary illustration of the library, the one from the invitation:



Also, there was a somewhat odd list on Yahoo today, "The Good, the Bad, and the Slimy: 20 Great Movie Creatures." Some of these truly are iconic movie creatures — Kong, Giger's Alien, Jabba the Hutt, Godzilla, Oz's flying monkeys, Harryhausen's skeletons, Gollum, and heck, maybe even the magnificently erotic Davey Jones. A couple may, in time, prove to be iconic — the "Pale Man" from Pan's Labyrinth and the creature from The Host. But the list, as a whole, shows too much of what paleontologists call "the pull of the recent." That is, it's top-loaded with creatures from very recent films. In a list of 20 films spanning 1933-2008, 75 years, fully 50% of the list is derived from films released in the last six years! Even admitting that advances in CGI and SFX make-up are giving us many marvelous new monsters these days, this is baloney. Where's Lugosi's Dracula, Karloff's incarnation of Frankenstein's creature, Gort, or the "gill man" from the Black Lagoon? All of these are clearly more iconic, and far more deserving than some of those who made the list. The "ultra-cute baby Loch Ness monster" from The Water Horse? Not. Kraecher from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix? Wrong. The gelflings from The Dark Crystal. Nope (though you might make a case for the Skeksis). Saphria from the godsawful Eragon? That's a joke, right? You want a dragon, then choose Vermithrax Pejorative from Dragonslayer or Maleficent's draconic incarnation from Disney's classic Sleeping Beauty. Sheesh, people. Someone needs to look up the word "icon" in a dictionary and try again.

b3ta had a very cool phootieshoop competition running last year... what happens beyond the borders of classic album sleeves...

Here are some I think you might like... (if the inlines don't work, I'll recode)

• Nevermind
  
• Animals
  
• The Wall
  
• Queen II
  
• Revolver

And becase a Pics Post is nothing without a Cat...



...or a Macro. Mmmm... macro...

What was going to be a quiet afternoon making day garb for B turned into a rather larger A&S session. ( Read more... )

Even though I had planned to stay at home working on Saturday night, years of social conditioning have taught me that Not Having Plans on a Saturday night - and worse, the fact that my wife is so busy she is rightfully ignoring me - makes me feel like a big, big loser.

I suppose I could have made plans. But now I'm just staring at the Internet in between large file transfers, hoping something amuses me. Bleah.

We've just come back from the trip down to the border to actually do the "landing" bit of being landed immigrants. Some of us were a bit worried that they'd change their minds at the last minute, but they didn't. We left Z's girlfriend in our apartment with instructions to post all the books if they wouldn't let us in again... but they did. We are home! We are as Canadian as possible under the circumstances!

We've been working towards this for a long time.

... or even sit at the computer for more than a minute or two. I just came upstairs for another glass of lemonade, and to check on a bunch of photos I was uploading to Flickr.

Here: Have a pretty picture. There are more where that came from.

Back to the basement I go.

I like hands and feet. So when several of us were taking photos of feet, I decided to throw in one of my hands. But to look at my left hand reminded me of the horrific bite left behind by a spiteful brown recluse spider, last year. And so, something best described as The Imp of the Perverse seized the ornery nature that exists within my soul. As a result, I decided to recapture the progression of the various wrappings and bandages my arm sported and show the photographic evidence of my arm, today.

( Cut for the squeamish )

rasetsunyo has been so kind as to point out that in an earlier chapter, Ukitake's eyes are *brown*, rather decisively so, too. Hee. No wonder so many people are so confused!! Yay! It's not just me!