- You know what's fun? Turning off a megawatt generator in the dark. No, wait, that's what's not fun; not the turning it off (flip a tiny switch and a huge silence falls) but the long walk in the dark. I have got to check the remote start/stop on that thing, which probably works but every time I have to use it, I think, "better not find out the hard way."
- On the other hand, my own "lion" (well, Broad Ripple Miniature Biting Tiger) decided to drape himself across me, purring, and sleep most of the night. They do love you best when it's chilly out and the electric blanket is on -- but it was still sweet of him.
- Props to Jimmy Fallon, whose post-game chat-chat opening sequence did my city proud. So did the Superb Owl coverage; Indy's about #11 in population (and #26 in media markets) and Downtown is generally overshadowed by the Motor Speedway in the national spotlight. We did okay for a "cornfield with lights," tax-funded boondoggle of a stadium and all. Hey, it's here now, might as well have some fun with it. ("Mister Nero, put down that violin!")
Monday, February 06, 2012
Sunday, February 05, 2012
It's Superb-wl Morning
Do you know where your beers are?
(Gak.)
Y'know, but for one little slip of the fingertip, we could've had a Superb Owl. Which would have explained this. But no.
(Gak.)
Y'know, but for one little slip of the fingertip, we could've had a Superb Owl. Which would have explained this. But no.
Saturday, February 04, 2012
The Very Large Cat (And Friends)
Huck the cat, of course, shown here napping near -- but not too near -- Miss Rannie Wu:
And for a better idea of scale, laying atop a book with Tam's forearm in the background. Yes, more than a cubit of cat, and 16 pounds, too.
He napped next to me though mid-day (I have a night shift tonight and a loooong day tomorrow), quite content.
And for a better idea of scale, laying atop a book with Tam's forearm in the background. Yes, more than a cubit of cat, and 16 pounds, too.
He napped next to me though mid-day (I have a night shift tonight and a loooong day tomorrow), quite content.
Me, On Voting And The "Choices" Offered
I wrote it in Comments but I'll stand behind it on the front page:
Withal, neither [of the big parties] has run anyone for President in the general election that I felt I could in conscience vote for. I used to just stay home on election day, mindful of Claire Wolfe's "If voting could change anything, it would be illegal."
Except voting can change some things, especially in smaller races and in some of them, there's actually a decent choice.
As for the Presidency, I don't know if I will ever see the big parties run anyone for the office other than charismatic boobs, Party-faithful nitwits, incompetents and crooks. Seriously, can you look at the choices in the last four elections and tell me, honestly, that any of the men they put forward in November would have been your first choice?
...I cannot.
Withal, neither [of the big parties] has run anyone for President in the general election that I felt I could in conscience vote for. I used to just stay home on election day, mindful of Claire Wolfe's "If voting could change anything, it would be illegal."
Except voting can change some things, especially in smaller races and in some of them, there's actually a decent choice.
As for the Presidency, I don't know if I will ever see the big parties run anyone for the office other than charismatic boobs, Party-faithful nitwits, incompetents and crooks. Seriously, can you look at the choices in the last four elections and tell me, honestly, that any of the men they put forward in November would have been your first choice?
...I cannot.
O, Nature!
Looking at the Gentoo Penguin, q.v.:
...You have to wonder, exactly what did they change from the Gen One Penguin? (And are they open-source?)
...You have to wonder, exactly what did they change from the Gen One Penguin? (And are they open-source?)
Friday, February 03, 2012
"Poly" = Many; "Ticks" = Blood-Sucking Insects
I suppose I ought to have something to say about the GOP slugfest between Newt and Mitt, but it's like watching two drunken bums fighting in a open-topped septic tank while the MC sprays 'em down with even more sludge. I suppose it's exciting if you're into that sort of thing, but from any distance away, it just looks sad.
("O-M-G, Mittens doesn't care about the extremely poor!" Yeah, 'cos face it, they get better press than he does, and probably more contributions, too; ill-stated as it was, there really are a lot of programs and helps for those who have fallen right over the edge. It's not a solved problem -- I think history so far demonstrates it's not a solvable problem -- but given that Johnson's "War on Poverty" is still being waged, I'm darned if I know what else the Press thinks a President ought to be doing that, say, the current one ain't. Don't even get me started on the PR disaster/slime explosion that is Newt, or the crazed way he seems to think the path to victory is followed by winning High School Debate Club-type points.)
Even more sad than any of that is having to watch the Republican faithful as, once more, they play the Battered Bride, talking themselves into the belief that a liberty-fearing Massachusetts patrician won't be so bad, not really, I mean, at least he's not a Democrat, right? (Got news for ya, kids: in Indiana or elsewhere in flyover country, he probably would be). Or that Newt has any chance at all, or that Ricky's blend of rose-colored glasses and generalized xenophobia (where "xeno" means "doesn't resemble any member of his immediate family") is somehow a Good Thing. --Or even that Ron Paul hasn't been Goldwatered out over his own decades-old past by the press once more.
Face facts: any of them are DOA on the November ballot. --Or as good as; Mr. Romney might have a bare chance, though so far he seems to have just as much aptitude for torpedoing himself as any of his primary opponents, but he's a Milquetoast middle-of-the-roader, liable to appoint wishy-washy turncoats to the Supreme Court at least as bad as anyone Mr. Obama might choose, if not worse.
Vote for whatever Noble Failure the GOP faithful trot out? I'm not doin' it. Makes my gorge rise. While I am still thinking about giving Dr. Paul a shout-out in Indiana's primary (assuming he's still on the roster), I am more likely tosit it out and vote Libertarian when the main event comes 'round. Or, hell, Communist; the way things are going, we may need a Marxist or two for the lamp-posts and wouldn't you really rather have an overt one than a sneak?
Nobody running in the Presidential primary is your friend. No friend to gunnies, no friend to the small businessperson and no friend to free individuals. They see your liberty as a threat; Mr. Schumer over in Congress speaks for all Washington when he wants you injected, inspected, detected -- not neglected! -- issued a card and sat down, probably, on the Group W bench with "all kinds of mean nasty ugly looking people..." And not a one of them will even bother to ask, "'Kid, have you rehabilitated yourself?'"*
I dunno about you but I still haven't. A pox upon 'em.
A pox -- and a ballot. It's the only thing other than money that gets their attention.
_______________________________________
* A few lines there from a possibly-familiar song.
("O-M-G, Mittens doesn't care about the extremely poor!" Yeah, 'cos face it, they get better press than he does, and probably more contributions, too; ill-stated as it was, there really are a lot of programs and helps for those who have fallen right over the edge. It's not a solved problem -- I think history so far demonstrates it's not a solvable problem -- but given that Johnson's "War on Poverty" is still being waged, I'm darned if I know what else the Press thinks a President ought to be doing that, say, the current one ain't. Don't even get me started on the PR disaster/slime explosion that is Newt, or the crazed way he seems to think the path to victory is followed by winning High School Debate Club-type points.)
Even more sad than any of that is having to watch the Republican faithful as, once more, they play the Battered Bride, talking themselves into the belief that a liberty-fearing Massachusetts patrician won't be so bad, not really, I mean, at least he's not a Democrat, right? (Got news for ya, kids: in Indiana or elsewhere in flyover country, he probably would be). Or that Newt has any chance at all, or that Ricky's blend of rose-colored glasses and generalized xenophobia (where "xeno" means "doesn't resemble any member of his immediate family") is somehow a Good Thing. --Or even that Ron Paul hasn't been Goldwatered out over his own decades-old past by the press once more.
Face facts: any of them are DOA on the November ballot. --Or as good as; Mr. Romney might have a bare chance, though so far he seems to have just as much aptitude for torpedoing himself as any of his primary opponents, but he's a Milquetoast middle-of-the-roader, liable to appoint wishy-washy turncoats to the Supreme Court at least as bad as anyone Mr. Obama might choose, if not worse.
Vote for whatever Noble Failure the GOP faithful trot out? I'm not doin' it. Makes my gorge rise. While I am still thinking about giving Dr. Paul a shout-out in Indiana's primary (assuming he's still on the roster), I am more likely to
Nobody running in the Presidential primary is your friend. No friend to gunnies, no friend to the small businessperson and no friend to free individuals. They see your liberty as a threat; Mr. Schumer over in Congress speaks for all Washington when he wants you injected, inspected, detected -- not neglected! -- issued a card and sat down, probably, on the Group W bench with "all kinds of mean nasty ugly looking people..." And not a one of them will even bother to ask, "'Kid, have you rehabilitated yourself?'"*
I dunno about you but I still haven't. A pox upon 'em.
A pox -- and a ballot. It's the only thing other than money that gets their attention.
_______________________________________
* A few lines there from a possibly-familiar song.
Vintage Projects
Not the accumulation of "someday..." projects on my workbench --- well, those, too, but also and even more so VintageProjects.com, an interesting collection of exactly that.
This rates a mention over at Retrotechnologist.
This rates a mention over at Retrotechnologist.
Thursday, February 02, 2012
Be A Retronaut
Retronaut? It's as easy as clicking on the link -- in fact, that's how you get there, for visits to real pasts and pasts that never happened.
Another Morning...
...Another headache and -- perhaps lingering from last night's struggle to pay my telephone bill -- the nagging sense of failure. Well, if I haven't done much, at least I can hope to have not done much harm, either. Right? Right?
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
Dear AT&T
Die in a crotch fire. Figuratively, of course, but no less seriously.
Yes, I know diacf is LeeAnn's line and I hope she doesn't mind, but dammit, every month -- every month! -- when I go to pay my landline/Internet/cell phone bill, you have done something.different.arrgh with the login; every time, no matter how hard I try to find the right magic door, it goes wrong, and despite being the only effing name on the effing account, I haven't logged in as the Prime Meridian, or The Kirk, or somedamthing, and cannot therefore even so much as get a glimpse of my bill, let alone pay the rotten thing.
This time, I went 'round and 'round and answered the SuperSekrit Security Kwestions twice and I am still not considered to be me enough to see my own effing telephone account. I finally had to call up the Annoyingly Cheerful Robot Man and do it that way. (BTW, he doesn't know what "Die in a crotchfire" means. I suppose it is highly allegorical language.) "I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that, Dave. What are you doing, Dave? Dai-sy, Daaaaaai-sy....."
Ah, dreams. Well, back in the real world, stuff it up your fat pink patoot. I swear, I'm gonna find wherever you have hid your office and pay the whole thing in two-dollar bills next month, crumpled into a big fat wad. --Unless I can figure out how to do it with a singing telegram.
For land's sake, why oh why would any business want to make it so dreadfully difficult for customers to send them money? Are you insane?
Oh, that's right, you're The Phone Company. I think Lily Tomlin already covered this: Of course you are.
Yes, I know diacf is LeeAnn's line and I hope she doesn't mind, but dammit, every month -- every month! -- when I go to pay my landline/Internet/cell phone bill, you have done something.different.arrgh with the login; every time, no matter how hard I try to find the right magic door, it goes wrong, and despite being the only effing name on the effing account, I haven't logged in as the Prime Meridian, or The Kirk, or somedamthing, and cannot therefore even so much as get a glimpse of my bill, let alone pay the rotten thing.
This time, I went 'round and 'round and answered the SuperSekrit Security Kwestions twice and I am still not considered to be me enough to see my own effing telephone account. I finally had to call up the Annoyingly Cheerful Robot Man and do it that way. (BTW, he doesn't know what "Die in a crotchfire" means. I suppose it is highly allegorical language.) "I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that, Dave. What are you doing, Dave? Dai-sy, Daaaaaai-sy....."
Ah, dreams. Well, back in the real world, stuff it up your fat pink patoot. I swear, I'm gonna find wherever you have hid your office and pay the whole thing in two-dollar bills next month, crumpled into a big fat wad. --Unless I can figure out how to do it with a singing telegram.
For land's sake, why oh why would any business want to make it so dreadfully difficult for customers to send them money? Are you insane?
Oh, that's right, you're The Phone Company. I think Lily Tomlin already covered this: Of course you are.
Official Police
Colt Official Police, that is.
Yes, I finally own a Colt revolver in a "normal" caliber, an Official Police .38 Special from 1950. It showed up at the most recent Indy 1500, purchased for cash Sunday afternoon at a remarkable price -- thanks to the cash discount, the smile-at-the-nice-man discount* and (mostly) the "don't want to have to pack it up and take it back to my shop" discount.
I'll try to get a better photograph after sunup, but if it looks like a felt-tip cold reblueing job on the cylinder, alas, it is. Should polish right off with a mild cleaner.
Appears to be in good mechanical shape otherwise and makes my 1921 Police Positive, chambered in .38 Colt New Police (better-known, these days, as .38 S&W), look positively gracile. --The contrast also makes clear why the .38 Special was (once) considered more than adequate for police work; although similar in nearly every detail, the later gun is about half again as large, beefier in every component.
This brings the Colt Count to three. (My .32-20 is in the shop for ratchet work.) I have got to get to the range -- either early in the morning this week, or on my next day off, eight days away.
___________________________________
* These days, I dunno if it's the "pretty girl" discount or the "you remind me of my Mom" discount and I'm afraid to ask. ;)
Yes, I finally own a Colt revolver in a "normal" caliber, an Official Police .38 Special from 1950. It showed up at the most recent Indy 1500, purchased for cash Sunday afternoon at a remarkable price -- thanks to the cash discount, the smile-at-the-nice-man discount* and (mostly) the "don't want to have to pack it up and take it back to my shop" discount.
I'll try to get a better photograph after sunup, but if it looks like a felt-tip cold reblueing job on the cylinder, alas, it is. Should polish right off with a mild cleaner.Appears to be in good mechanical shape otherwise and makes my 1921 Police Positive, chambered in .38 Colt New Police (better-known, these days, as .38 S&W), look positively gracile. --The contrast also makes clear why the .38 Special was (once) considered more than adequate for police work; although similar in nearly every detail, the later gun is about half again as large, beefier in every component.
This brings the Colt Count to three. (My .32-20 is in the shop for ratchet work.) I have got to get to the range -- either early in the morning this week, or on my next day off, eight days away.
___________________________________
* These days, I dunno if it's the "pretty girl" discount or the "you remind me of my Mom" discount and I'm afraid to ask. ;)
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
While On The Subject Of World Culture
This morning's breakfast, a globetrotting take on huevos rancheros:
Two eggs -- big, orange-yellow free-range eggs from Locally Grown Gardens -- very lightly scrambled and folded once after they've set, sprinkled with a little good curry powder right before flipping and topped with a bit of English Cheddar with Horseradish and Celery (pale yellow and softer than most cheddars), then served with a generous topping of warmed up Red Gold salsa and whatever hot sauce you favor and bacon on the side.
Tam, pretty much a bacon fanatic, inhaled the egg dish before even noticing the bacon. Yes, it's that good. (As ever, the bacon was peppered before cooking and a dab of that grease was used for the eggs. It makes a difference, the flavor's as close to cooking over an open wood fire as I can get.)
Two eggs -- big, orange-yellow free-range eggs from Locally Grown Gardens -- very lightly scrambled and folded once after they've set, sprinkled with a little good curry powder right before flipping and topped with a bit of English Cheddar with Horseradish and Celery (pale yellow and softer than most cheddars), then served with a generous topping of warmed up Red Gold salsa and whatever hot sauce you favor and bacon on the side.
Tam, pretty much a bacon fanatic, inhaled the egg dish before even noticing the bacon. Yes, it's that good. (As ever, the bacon was peppered before cooking and a dab of that grease was used for the eggs. It makes a difference, the flavor's as close to cooking over an open wood fire as I can get.)
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