Peposo

     I made peposo for dinner last night, and it was fantastic!

     Put too much salt on the meat at the start, and had to dilute the broth at the end.  Next time, I'll do better.  But what even is peposo, and why is it a big deal?

     Well, it's kind of connected to one of the most famous domes in the world, Filippo Brunelleschi's vast brick dome on Florence Cathedral, a job he inherited with no blueprints or guidance from the man who'd spent most of his life designing and managing the construction of the rest of the building.  The style didn't provide sufficient support for a masonry dome -- and he chose something slightly lighter but even less strong for the job!  It's one of the first examples of an engineered structure, with hidden tension elements and an internal design that keeps the whole thing hanging together by its own weight, while guiding stresses to supports and pitting force against force to minimize the worst.

     And here's the thing: brickwork is slow.  If you've ever had the pleasure of watching professional brickmasons at work, you know that when the whistle blows, they're a blur of motion, each step blending into the next, mortar applied, bricks laid, everything squared and trimmed in motions that might well be a dance.  (And at break time, it all stops on a dime, bam!  Only to start again at the same pace when time's up.  --Because it's a process; only rarely does one mason work alone.)  But it still moves one brick at a time, and past their normal speed, you cannot hurry it: one flaw can doom an entire wall.

     Brunelleschi's masons were building a dome hundreds of feet up.  The main route up and down was  a complex winch he'd designed, and even by the standards of the Middle Ages, it was slow.  At noon, bringing the whole crew down for lunch and hauling them back up afterwards took time, far too much time.  You don't ask brickmasons to work without lunch -- especially not when you're the high-and-mighty builder at ground level and they're way up there, assembling a dome that will bring your reputation crashing down with it if it fails.  (Also, they've got a lot of bricks up there -- oops, one less, look out below!)

     While Brunelleschi was negotiating for more bricks from his supplier, he noticed the brickmakers would set out covered ceramic pots right by the kilns at the start of their day, and haul them back at noon, with the most delicious aroma wafting out when they lifted the lid and speared out chunks of meat.  What -- the stories tell us he asked -- was that stuff?  Oh, nothing much, really, they said -- they'd buy tough meat, cover it with wine and toss in some salt and a lot of black peppercorns, and let it bubble away for half the day or longer in the heat of kilns.

     Brick holds heat.  The builder was buying as much brick as the place could sell him, and they were shipping it still warm.  What if they made more of that beef and wine stuff, and shipped it to building site with the bricks?  He'd make 'em a deal on it....

     And so (or so they say), every wagonload of bricks arrived at the cathedral with a hot pot of stew, got winched up to the dome, and he had a couple of shelters built up by the base of the dome where the crews could have their lunch.  And you thought DoorDash was new!

     It still isn't a complicated recipe, and the outcome is still pretty magical.  Cracked peppercorns and Chianti, a little garlic and olive oil to brown the beef in before simmering, and two or three hours of simmering, mostly under a lid -- you would never predict the outcome, which is not especially peppery or wine-flavored, just tender and full of umami.

     Tam and I had our peposo with steamed mixed vegetables and good crusty Italian bread, and agreed we'd have it again.  It's not a difficult entree to prepare, and the result more than repays the small effort.  Those brickmakers had the right idea. 

I've Figured It Out!

      Various teams and individuals have been searching for Amelia Earhart -- or what's left of her airplane -- ever since she disappeared, especially after WW II.

     And it's a fascinating mystery; as things stand, both the famous pilot and her navigator Fred Noonan are under a bit of a cloud, which is almost certainly unfair to both of them.  But as long as there's no evidence, all anyone has is guesses about what happened and why.

     Many of the teams have been connected with Purdue University, where Earhart was a guest lecturer -- but more than that, the university put up the bulk of the money for the Lockheed Electra airplane she was flying when she went missing!

     Purdue's administration is, um, not to put too fine a point on it, parsimonious.   There's an expedition to a likely prospect just offshore of a tiny Pacific island right now.  (Don't get too excited -- the wings and fuselage of an airplane are not too dissimilar in outline to many kinds of ocean-going vessel; the Pacific is vast and has seen plenty of war, storm and plain bad luck afloat, and how likely is a nearly 90 year old, mostly aluminum airplane to survive in shallow salt water?)  You've got to wonder, though -- if they do  find the plane, is Purdue still holding on to an insurance policy, waiting to collect if they can come up with solid evidence the plane went down?

The Semi-Ancient World, Through Dr. Stephen Ressler's Eyes

     The centuries between the Romans and us -- the so-called Dark Ages -- were darkened by plagues and population loss, by painful decentralization across Europe.  But people did plenty of interesting things.  Progress continued.  Last night, Tam and I finished watching The Great Courses series "Understanding the Marvels of Medieval Technology," conceived and taught by this guy, as kewl an engineer as there is (also a retired Brigadier General). Highly recommended geek history!

     If you enjoy the late Henry Petroksi's books, this will probably be right up your alley.

Been Quiet

     I had computer problems the last few days -- stumbled into a stupid trap link.  I think I rooted out the worst damage, but who can be sure?

     A different bug is making the rounds, especially on GMail, a fake "event invitation" that comes from the pwned account of a trusted contact.  I've received two of them and they're innocuous-looking enough that I hovered over the link before thinking better of it. It's easy to get so used to the routine spam and phishing that some of the old-time malware will bite you.

Chicken Salad Cordon Bleu

     Because why not?  Our corner grocer makes a first-rate chicken salad sandwich, served on a fresh-baked croissant, and despite the -- shudder* -- lettuce leaf they add on the bottom.  The greens make for longer shelf life; they'll make up a batch of sandwiches in little clear plastic boxes, stick them in the self-service deli cooler, and often sell out by the time I stop by after work.

     They were out last night, but had the makings: nice croissants in boxes of four, and plastic containers of their roast chicken salad.  The problem with this is, Tam's not a fan of the stuff.

     Tamara's okay with ham and cheese, though, and I was out of Swiss anyway.  Good Black Forest ham, sliced Swiss cheese, vinegar-dressing coleslaw on the side: a light supper.

     Putting together a sandwich for Tam, I was thinking about how to use up the ham before it expired, and added a slice of ham to my sandwich, cut in two with a little spicy mustard between them, to the bottom of my chicken salad sandwich. (No, I didn't buy lettuce; I'm still a little wary of raw vegetables I didn't grow myself.*)  This turns out to be outstandingly tasty, and I recommend it to my readers.
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* It's annoying.  I like salads, and I like not having to buy all the ingredients and build them myself even more.  Thanks, Trump -- cutting way back on food inspectors, that's some real effective government streaming from you and your party right there.

Leftovers? Luxury!

     Last Wednesday, we had sliced zucchini in puttenesca sauce, with a little ground sirloin and pancetta* in it.  The sauce is absolutely delicious, and carries the squash along nicely.  Then Saturday, I'd made grill-baked meatloaf -- well, not exactly made: the butcher counter at or neighborhood grocery makes "Italian  meatloaf," ready to go in a foil pan, with bell pepper rings and a couple of cherry tomatoes on top.  Cooking it on the grill sounds crazy, but it works; the foil pan goes on mostly-flat perforated grill pan and enough to the hardwood smoke permeates the meatloaf to give it a nice flavor.  My covered grill hits 350°F easily with hardwood lump charcoal. (Fresh green beans, steamed with slivered almonds, on the side -- a four-minute microwave dish.)

     Both meals resulted in leftovers -- more than half a small meatloaf and a fair amount of tasty, meat-laden puttensca sauce.

     Sunday dinner was obvious.  I set the sauce to thawing while I chopped and sauteed a small white onion, followed by mixed exotic mushrooms (King trumpet, maiitake and oyster).  A small can of plain tomato sauce and some sliced olives, a pipparra pepper cut up small and pickled red peppers followed, then the thawed puttensca and, once it was bubbling, the meatloaf, cut into more or less meatball-sized cubes.  With a little grated Parmesan cheese on top, it was a nice ragout.  Leftovers?  Sure.  But what leftovers they were!

     I keep wanting to try baking bread in the covered grill.  It'll be tricky, but it might be very good indeed.
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* The one thing I'd do differently is that I bought a small container of cubed pancetta and some of them were a little tough even after slight browning and long simmering.  A little dab is all it takes, so the slightly more expensive but oh so delicate thin slices would be better, scissored into bits of flavor and added to the ground sirloin very shortly before pouring in the sauce.

About "A.I." And Data Centers

     You want to know what I think about so-called "Artificial Intelligence?" I think it ought to be banned while there's still less there than meets the eye, while it still hasn't got hands.

     I still think there's a very large element of scam to it, and a lump of self-delusion equally as large.  It's the Internet meme, "If friend-shaped, why not friend?" writ large: "A.I." usually simulates an affirming if not outright obsequious collaborator.  There is still nothing inside the box; it can't feel pain, it has no theory of mind, and there is no actual self-awareness at the center of it.  Say it kills us all, or brings about a golden age: either way, there's no part of it that knows what's going on, or that grasps the difference between Utopia and Ragnarok.

     "A.I." is deadly the way a four-year-old with a handgun is deadly, only more so, because the code has no emotional bonds to Mommy or Daddy and it never will.  When research is done on these simulated-intelligence programs, it should be sandboxed and firewalled as if it was refined plutonium, not offered up for any fool to play with.

     And as for the data centers it (and, apparently, everything else) runs on, they're an enormous vulnerability, and one I thought we'd outgrown.  Go back a step or two in technological development, and they're an approximate analog to telephone switching centers ("telephone exchange"); CLifford Exchange was (and is) near my house, just a few blocks over and north on College Avenue.  Typical of post-WW II exchanges, it was a semi-hardened building: very few windows, stout steel doors, thick brick and concrete walls, backup power.  It wouldn't survive an atom bomb, but it has shrugged off storms, floods, being struck by vehicles, tornadoes and civil unrest without a mark.  The only destruction it has suffered was the loss of the larger of the two buildings that once comprised it: telephone switching equipment is minuscule these days, and the real estate was worth more than the empty building.

     Data centers are built using the same methods and materials as your nearest Target, Meijer or Walmart, just like the ones that have the roof peeled off in summer storms or get looted during riots.  Their best physical security consists of chain-link fences and ordinary locks.  If they're so darned important, how come they're built like big-box stores or modern warehouses?

     At one time, the distributed nature of a pretty clever computer (or three) on everyone's desk and, eventually, in everyone's purse or pocket, all interconnected via the Internet, was seen as a great strength, and the fat nodes on the network were understood as weak points that the system was designed to route around in case of individual failure.  Suddenly it's utterly vital to stick one or two or a dozen around every county seat?

     In Frank Herbert's Dune series,* computers are strictly limited in function and computing power; centuries before the setting of his stories, machine intelligence had reached great heights of power and tyrannical authority over humanity, and was only defeated after a long and bitter struggle.  High drama indeed, later novelized as The Butlerian Jihad, named ostensibly after a key character in the battles, though probably a nod to a 19th-Century utopian novelists's cautions about machine intelligence.  Maybe the time to deal with that sort of thing is before it becomes a problem?

     In February 2024, writing about the possible overturning of Chevron, I included "Artificial Intelligence" on a list of things about which I preferred our generally ineffectual Congress get expert advice, but now I'm wondering if the Feds are listening to the right kinds of experts -- better philosophers than tech moguls, better ethicists than software engineers.

     The price of getting this wrong is exorbitant.  
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* The first book is great; I think it kind of tapers off from there, though not for lack of worldbuilding.

CNN Still On The Outs

     Apparently, CNN's out of the video pool for now.  They've got access to the White House, but not Air Force One or special events like the recent state dinner.  The other members of the pool don't agree, but so far, there's no explicit policy, just a series of pointed snubs and counter-boycotts.

     Beside's the Executive Branch doesn't have any pressing problems to deal with -- just a little pocket recissioning, a tactic of highly questionable legality, in which Congress sets up a government program, funds it -- and the administration declines to spend the money.

     Boy, it's sure good there's not a war on, or a price crisis in anything important, like food, housing or fuel.

They're Back In! --Except Where They Aren't

      Around 12:30 yesterday afternoon, the White House started reissuing passes to journalists from CNN, MSNBC and Politico.  They were back!

     Well, sort of.  CNN had long been a member of the cool kid's club video pool, and the administration, having kicked them out of it, is maintaining a sphinxlike silence on whether they're allowed to swim again.  In solidarity, the other members of the pool -- ABC, CBS, NBC and Fox -- are sittin' on their cameras and whatever dignity they can muster.

     The issues here remain that, A) Having opened their doors to the Press, Federal institutions can't kick 'em out without "due process of law," meaning there are charges and a rebuttal and a determination from the git-go, or it ends up in court anyway; and B) Having opened their doors to the Press, Feds cannot give individual reporters or organizations the bum's rush over what or how they write.  Clearly actionable stuff might rate legal cases for libel, slander or over national security issues, but calling the President a big ol' meany or accusing Cabinet members of being stupid or excessively flatulent (or even just saying their approval numbers have reached new lows) are criticisms that Uncle Sam's official and loyal servants must endure -- and have had to from the first days of our Republic.  These are things that stem directly from the Bill of Rights and about which there is no lack of statute and legal-case precedent.  (This doesn't stop the back-and-forth; a local pundit reminds us that it's an ongoing struggle and I think it probably always will be.)

     If the Press, in their various and sundry slants, attitudes, angles, opinions, perceptions and limitations are blind men looking at the elephant (or, occasionally, donkey) of government, then let's have as many of 'em, and as many different kinds, as we can get -- because what no one seems to remember from the children's book is that when you put together all the disparate descriptions of the subject animal, you get a pretty accurate overall picture of the beast itself.

     Guess Who's Not Coming To Dinner:
     For years, the easiest way to get journalists to pay attention has been to feed them. Not feeding them can have the opposite effect.  CNN* and MSNBC showed up to cover the big state dinner for China's President Xi last night, and were sent home without so much as a roll or a stray fork in their pockets, let alone any video or sound bites.  This appears to be more limits-testing, and it's an area that is at least slightly gray; limited-access events (as opposed to press conferences) do have greater leeway for discrimination.  (And there's no word if Politico tried to get in and was sent home without dinner.)  What's next?  I don't know, but it's clear this bit of middle-school jostling is far from over.

     Conflict between the Press and the President is always uneven -- one has a bigger megaphone, but the other has the Secret Service, not to mention the Border Patrol, Space Force, Air Force, Army, Navy, Marines and Coast Guard.  The Bill of Rights offers a little more balance, but when you come right down to it, one side's got locked gates and people to guard 'em, while the other side's got old-fashioned Mark I ears and eyes, a pen, a voice recorder and a camera.  If we want to keep an eye on what our elected officials are up to, we need those ink-stained wretches, even the ones whose fool notions we detest.
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* To be fair, CNN sent a list of who they were sending and the administration returned it with a note: only videographers and sound technicians were invited. CNN replied it was everyone on their list including reporters and producers, or nobody, and the upshot was, nobody, not even if they wore their best outfits and had a guide to which spoon to use for what dish.

Well, What A Surprise

     The news organizations ousted from their spots at the White House went before a judge yesterday -- a Trump-appointed Federal judge, presumably vetted and blessed by the Federalist Society* -- and were granted a temporary order putting them back in the job in the Oval Office, etc. for the next two weeks while the legal process moves forward.

     The judge says the news organizations are likely to prevail when the case goes to trial; there are no do-overs in the news business and government restriction on Constitutionally-protected rights is a serious matter, so CNN, MSNOW and Politico are back in immediately, where no doubt they will be graciously received,  Or not; as I write, there's no evidence that their White House press credentials have been restored.  (Will he or won't he?  The slow accrual of power to whoever holds the Oval Office ought to be chilling to even a superficial student of history, and the Trump administration has done more to further it than any President since Jackson or Wilson.  Enthusiastic partisans should bear in mind that no one man, or even party, can hold the office forever, and that immense power will pass to someone with a very different set of priorities.)

     A couple of things are going on with the case itself.  One is a First Amendment two-step: if you're a responsible party in The Government, once you've let the Press in, you can't shut them out if you don't like what they write, no matter how mean they are.  The other is the right to due process: the government cannot shove people or organizations around arbitrarily, based on whim  They've got to follow due process of law -- pull you over, write a ticket, aim you towards the courts.  A President can't just point and say, "You -- out!" in the manner of a Roman Emperor or a beat cop rousting someone sleeping on a park bench.

     It will be interesting to see what happens next.  Mr. Trump has already said he will appeal if he loses this case.  There's a step or two until the case reaches the U. S. Supreme Court (unless they apply to jump the line, a process governed by arcane rules I would have to go look up), and there's no telling what the slut-gnomes of false Berlin the nine robed eminences will do.  It should be utterly clear, but....

     Presently, none of the affected organizations have White House access yet.  And here's the bitter pill under those sweet, sweet Bill of Rights headlines: it's kicked the disastrous non-war with Iran and six-fifty-a-gallon diesel (chased by gasoline at $4.50 and both rising) plus the President's low and sinking approval ratings right off the front page, or at least below the fold.  Is pushing the Press around a bad look?  Probably not, especially to his base; while the public generally thinks better of news media than they do of Congress or the President, it's not very much better.  And there's nothing like a good fight to gather a crowd.
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* In fact, he's been a member of it since 2009, and they're picky about the conservative creds of anyone they let into the clubhouse.  Sending a boxtop and an SASE isn't sufficient, no matter how much Ovaltine you drink.

Stop Shouting!

     Alternative titles: "Get Off The Bus!" and "Partyline."

     It has nothing to do with politics.  I went to work on a transmitter yesterday; it's been behaving oddly, slow to "wake up" after power hits, and the first, simplest step was to replace the transient suppressors on the incoming power.  They're conveniently socketed, and somewhat inconveniently mounted -- you have to remove the front panel from a module and it exposes the incoming mains voltage, 208 Volt 3-phase.  So I had to shut it all the way off.

     I proceeded to do the task, transmitter off, breaker off, panel off, unplug and replace three little widgets, then put it all back together, look it over, flip the breaker, power up, wait for the hearts and brains of the thing to get happy (okay, the RF modulators and controllers, each nicely redundant) and then the ON switch, a little power-up cycle of yellow and green lights, and--  And--  And--

     And the darn green lights went nuts.  Multiple faults, amber and blinking red in the "Christmas tree" status lights down one side of each amplifier; on the other, where three power supplies should light up green and steady, instead it showed blinks, green and off, chasing one another down the front panel in waltz time, 1,23; 1,2,3; 1,2,3; 1,2,3.  One amplifier showed a few more faults than the other three.

     I started digging through the front-panel menus on the controllers.  They had apparently signed up with the Wobblies: one should be Active while its pal is on Standby.  Instead, they were both on Standby!  Checking the computer-screen GUI confirmed it.  They weren't a-gonna work.

     The manual recommends setting the power output to zero and rebooting.  So I did.  Nope.  The next step is to try shutting things off -- it will run with one controller and one exciter, after all -- and rebooting.  Nope.  At that point, I sat down and put in a request for tech support with the manufacturer,* then went back to trying things like shutting off each amplifier module one at a time, and trying to take off with one prop feathered.  No luck.

     Eventually, a note came back from the factory.  They were reaching out to their subject-matter expert -- who just happened to be the contract engineer who had supervised our installation.  I remembered him as a guy who'd known all the quirks of the transmitter.

     Back to trying things.  My phone lit up with a message: Their guy was deep in another crises, and suggested putting the old transient suppressors back in. That's right, he'd said those things could be flaky, back when we put the transmitter in.  So I did that.  No change.

     I tried a few other things, got a message saying a call to me was next in the queue, and spent some time going back through the manual.  There's no tutorial, but the English translation has all the drawings and implies quite a lot.  I rebooted the internal network switch, even though it mostly communicated with the outside world; internal communications uses a different system.

     Man, still no call.  It had been an hour and a half since the initial contact.  I sent another email to the factory support coordinator, suggesting I'd been waiting long enough to hire a truck and make a good start towards driving the thing back to their parking lot.  That got a reply.  "What?  He hasn't called you?"  By this point, I'd also told my bosses, and they were sending increasingly worried text messages.

     The expert eventually did call.  He was mystified by the symptoms.  We wasted a half-hour trying to connect to the amplifiers directly.  They've got USB jacks, but it takes a stone-simple terminal emulator; it pops up a blinking cursor and we got that far, at least.  From there, a menu should appear in response to a tap on the ENTER key, but none of 'em were answering the phone.

     This made no sense to me, and, at first, not much more to him.  Then he asked if I'd tried shutting things off and restarting.  I had.  "Have you tried shutting off two things?"  That, I had not. So, with the most-complaining amplifier and one of the controllers off, I did yet another reboot.

     It's a slow process, a power-up self-test that steps through each part.  Green lights came up, flickered amber, came back green one at a time.  Green lights that stayed green.  I tried turning up the output power and my analog meters flickered.  (They're external.  It bugged me that the thing didn't have a nice big "I'm happy!" indication I could see across the room, so I added them.)  I told the expert, and kept on turning up the power, a little at a time.  "You're not going to make full power, of course," he told me, "But it'll do at least fifty percent."

     With one of four amplifiers off, you might think 75 percent, but that's not how the math works; the combining uses clever physics tricks that only add up nicely when everything is balanced, and when it isn't, some energy is lost.  Fifty is still greater than zero, and that's where we ended up.

     So what happened?  The internal communications is a kind of "party line," a shared serial data bus.  The expert figures the bad amp has been yelling for help -- but not flagging any alarms -- for a long time.  That's why the transmitter's been so slow to recover from power hits.  When I shut the transmitter down for half an hour, that's longer than it has been off since we put it in, and one of the controllers woke up unhappy.   I'm told that's a known problem.  And the controller was spamming the party line, too.  That's way too much traffic: neither controller could promote itself to active, the good amplifier modules couldn't report themselves ready for duty, and that transmitter wasn't going nowhere nohow until we shut off all the racket on the line.

     If it's not one thing, it's two things.  And it was.  The amplifier modules -- eighty pounds or so! --  are factory repair only, so they're shipping me a box and we'll cycle it through the repair process.    
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* Or as close as I can get.  It's actually imported, then fitted out to U. S. standards by the importer.  But both the overseas manufacturer and the U.S. importer are owned by the same multinational, headquartered in yet another country, so they're actually doing business with themselves.  Happily, all three are mostly geek-driven.  Unhappily, all three got downsized as the last of the U.S. digital cutover process met the COVID-19 pandemic.  There are a handful of engineers and techs left, in three languages.

Strange Bed- Er, Well, This Is Awkward

      Yesterday, CNN had "pool" video duty for White House Coverage; the job rotates between ABC, CBS, CNN, Fox and NBC, and with CNN barred, the others refrained from stepping up and say they'll be sitting out pool coverage.  (Not to worry -- the President just launched his very own TV channel, with nonstop, officially vetted and approved coverage of whatever the White House wants covered -- and nothing it does not.  For those keeping track at home, this is the exact opposite of a free press.)

     Radio and online/paper Press have their own pool rotations and a few of them have stepped back, too, which meant yesterday, the Print Media pool covering the President was led by....  Envelope, please!  The Washington Blade, which (per Wikipedia) is the country's oldest LGBT newspaper, backed up by the arch-conservative website, The Daily Caller.  Both of 'em are known to wear their political hearts on their sleeves, and to not avoid sensationalistic stories.  The dynamic out there in the reporter seats must have been interesting; I'm picturing a couple of earnest scriveners desperately trying to read over one another's shoulders while not getting, you know, too close.  What if it's catching?

     There's a certain amount of comfort in knowing that even in these fraught and conflict-filled times, we'll be getting a diversity of perspective on the Executive Branch -- and even more comfort in the thought that they're probably creeping each other out.