nospam@'s livejournal

If I spoke it

2007-09-05T20:17:12Z

The clue from the NYT crossword that appeared in yesterday's paper here:

Language in which plural is formed by adding -oj

Anyone? I don't remember how many letters it had, but "Japanese" was too short.

nospamat @ 2007-08-23T22:22:00

2007-08-24T05:23:14Z

20 miles this afternoon over 75 minutes, and mostly uphill!

nospamat @ 2007-08-18T21:22:00

2007-08-19T04:27:42Z

15.5 miles tonight, including a very tough climb, and I'm still bouncy. 40 miles a day in the Alberta prairie should be a piece of cake.

PWN3D

2007-08-14T02:37:24Z

(back story here)

Blathering blatherskite!

2007-08-11T20:31:38Z

As a talented storyteller with an active imagination, I'm impelled to share this week's excitement with you.

Tuesday: A student loan representative leaves a grave-sounding voice mail; it is "very important" that I call him. Returning the call, I am told there is no record of anyone having called me.
Friday: I receive an e-mail from my online savings bank, "Due Diligence 2nd Request". In my reply, I object that I never received a 1st request, and that I did indeed submit at application time the employment information they've just requested. Three hours later, they e-mail to apologize for the error.

I was touched with slight paranoia^†. 'Cause it's not every week that a financial institution has a bureaucratic snafu, right? You would have heard of it on the news.

A friend with the same account type at this bank got the same two e-mails, so it's reasonable to assume that everyone with the account got it. And while every big institution keeps a record of every damn thing, you can count on the info being stored in a diffuse system with hierarchies of access control.

As an aside, isn't this portion of the bank e-mail

Please disregard the email sent on August 10, 2007, with the subject line: Due Diligence 2nd Request. This email was sent in error and we apologize for the confusion it has caused. If Due Diligence information is required, you will receive a follow-up email. Again we apologize for this inconvenience.

typical Kafkaesque nonsense? "We won't offer an explanation for the mistake, which perhaps wasn't a mistake and we have the right to at any time inquire again." Perhaps the writer tried to be reasonable and honest to the extent a professional veneer allows. I can appreciate the challenge of that sort of writing, but... it still gnaws at me^‡. How can anyone conscious fail to be insulted by such cant?

^† Two of my colleagues are bombarding me with this "9/11 truth" stuff and won't let up. I'm weakened.
^‡ I'm not fond of corporate category mistakes and the arbitrary capitalization of business terms, neither!

nospamat @ 2007-07-21T19:27:00

2007-07-22T02:28:28Z

Just overheard in a housemate's phone conversation:

He's a midget, and his sister's coming, so maybe I'll just run to the store and get some rug cleaner!

Important advice for tenants

2007-07-20T04:56:02Z

Hi,

During the Portland housing boom of the 2000-oughts, many townhomes got build along side our vintage bungalows. Perhaps it's the same in your area. If you are applying yourself to rent a townhome (like this one), you should take steps to protect you. After all, you are paying 50% more than you paid two short years ago, and a few of these "newer" units were construed with cheap materials!

Questions to I like to ask my perspective "landperson" ("LOL")

Are you dog friendly? If so, may I build a doghome in the backyard? (Don't worry — he's home-trained.)
I might want to provide assistance to the FBI. Can I use the unit as a safe home?
In my last place, the previous tenants spilled home dressing on the carpet, and I got blamed. It begs the question, before I move-in, Can I thoroughly inspect your Unit? (Irregardless, the whole home of cards went down at my last place and I was literally buried in red tape.)
You follow the Equal homing amendment, right? Because I often have my houseys over to rap, if you know what I mean. My people often say, So and so is "in the home," if you catch my drift.

Apropos of nothing: Did Home, M.D. get any better this season?

ƃuıuuɐld uoıʇɐɔɐʌ

2007-07-18T05:49:24Z

jana: it's endearing, but you do things backwards

September 21-14: New York. Connecticut. Massachusetts. Possibly Iceland? Definitely cycling. Definitely pizza. Yeah, definitely.
September 13-6: Help seester move. Toronto. Concert of a certain band of biblical appellation with a 1975-76 progressive peak. Lead singer divorced wife by fax. You know?
September 5 - August 29: Question marks!!!!//

Thoughts for that ʇsɹıɟ week? Where ever I go, it's gotta be accessible by public transportation, and there's gotta be a campground or hostel near the bus/plane/train station. (I hate it when the plane station isn't in a fun neighborhood.)

[plane] Chicago [bus] Cleveland or Detroit [bus] Toronto? Haven't been able to find a place to sleep in either of the sandwich meat cities yet.

[train] Spokane [bus] Missoula [bus] Great Falls [bus] Calgary [plane] Toronto? There is a Great Falls - Calgary route on the Greyhound map, yet when I try to buy a ticket (interwebs or depotdregs) the only trips between the two points go through Seattle! Intolerable.

The Bike Song

2007-07-18T05:29:46Z

The intersection of those to whom I haven't sent this true story of bikey life on the green streets of Portland [gasp... long conjunct... gasp...] and those who will read this entry forms a small set. Nonetheless...

After a relatively uneventful half-hour ride from Beaverton -- my pen ran out of ink after a modicum of progress on the daily crossword -- I alight MAX at SW 18th Avenue.   It's about 9:45 PM.  The baseball game across the street is in the late innings.  A lot of families are getting on the train here.

I'm clumsy and it takes me a few minutes to reattach my pannier, remount my two headlights Blinky and Ogly.  Still I blast through the lights along the tracks on Yamhill Street and pass that train at the next station at 10th.  Quotidian, but still evokes a satisfied swell.

I continue downhill along the tracks, through the signals timed for 20 MPH, and I pass the Yellow Line train entering SW 4th.  The Yellow diverges north from the mainline  and stops a mile from my house.  Riding it means I don't have to climb a slope that's either short and steep or gentle but endless, depending on which line of longitude I choose.

In a discussion this winter, a bikey friend told me she hates the bike-train combination.  I had found it convenient then; but having gotten physically stronger and inured to negotiating city traffic, I'm now of liker mind.  Cycling's a rush.  It's a bummer to cede control, to wait, to go slow.  Whatsmore, once I resume pedaling, I'll find my legs got tight and sore.

I decide to meet the Yellow Line at its last downtown station.  It will maximize my time on the saddle.  It still lets electricity drive most of the hard travel.

I am in the right lane northbound on SW 2nd Avenue.  Again, I'm keeping in time with the greens.  I approach a crappy sedan in which Michael Landon might have cruised that famous highway, as foreshadowed in song by AC/DC.  The signal turns green; the car goes.  Next signal, the car doesn't go for a few seconds.  I have to brake.  When I cut to the left to pass, that heavenly auto just then proceeds.  I resume tracking in the middle of the lane.  My net movement is a quick erratic jackknife.  I'm annoyed.

Through the next light, and the car slows down.  The driver flicks out a lit butt or... CLIKITCLAKITACLUNCHITACLIK!  The fuse finishes and the firecracker explodes.  The sound shocks me and the light stings my eyes.  I am righteously indignant.

I bust ass.  Hard as I can.  After them.  Off with their heads.

There are no traffic lights where SW 2nd curves left and the street names transition from types of tree to city founders.  You can't see Burnside Street until you're almost upon it.  The signal there does not always sync with the grid because it's a two-way arterial.  "You better hope you have a green light at Burnside!"

I doubt the occupants of the car heard what I said, save my voice's timbre.  But damned if the sight of my headlights didn't spook them like the grill of a truck with a pissed dittohead at the clutch.  They accelerate.  They establish a few yards' distance.  I trail them under a yellow light at Burnside.  Two silhouettes shrinking away.

They can't continue this fast without hitting a red at the next light at Everett.  From the right lane, they corner left onto the side street of NW Couch.  By the time I make that turn, I see them at the end of the block.  They turn right onto NW 3rd.  Wrong way on a one way!  And I'm not going to follow them that way.

I could absolutely boast that I had them scared shitless.  If that's all I accomplished tonight, then I'd be right to be pleased.  At that moment, though, I am disappointed with myself for failing to keep pace.

I continue on Couch to 5th.  I have no chance to catch up if I follow their trail.  5th is the next legal southbound avenue, and there's a parking lot on the north block there, so maybe I can catch site of them and parallel them.

Do I see them?  Yes.  They've turned down 5th.  They are pinned in by a lane closure (more MAX tracks to come!) and there are no intervening side streets.  I have them.  I think I will just catch their license plate number and get somewhere safe.  No!  Lo!  There is actually a bicycle rent-a-cop at the corner.  Dead to rights.

"Those guys threw a firecracker at me."

"Which guys?"

"Those guys."  Actually, I have no idea whether I am pointing to the right car until it approaches the corner.

The occupants are two blond teenagers.  If they are not related, then their grandparents must have arrived on the same Norwegian wagon train.

The driver says he's sorry.  He sounds sincere.

"It was a scary thing to do," I say.

"Sounds like a stupid thing to do," bike cop says.
`
"Yeah, we're stupid teens."  Though the statement smacks of bathos (bathetic!), the kid sounds really regretful.  The passenger is silent.  Maybe he was never scared of me and doesn't regret a thing.

When I realize my headlamps are in the kid's eyes I turn my front wheel askew.  I give him a standard bikey speech.  You threw a firecracker at me and that's bad enough, but what really scared me is the possibility that you'd do something more.  I'm really vulnerable when I'm on this bike and you're in a car.

I turn around and leave the scene.  I feel satisfied but not quite at ease.  I still believe there's a slice of possibility they'll try to find me and do that something more to me.  I want to get somewhere safe quick.

I book it to Old Town station at NW 1st and Everett.  I'm fueled by adrenaline.  Or maybe I still have true biodiesel in the tank.  Commuting on a partially-loaded touring bike will do things for you.  Walking into my math lecture today, first of the summer, possibly every girl glanced at my legs.  (It's math, so there aren't many.) On the other hand, I have no memory of what route I took to Old Town.

At Old Town: There's that Yellow Line train, just leaving its previous station under the bridge.

I did all that and I still made the train.  As you diagram this story, mark that as the climax.

The denouement: Know that my safety was my first thought at all times.  It was downtown in the evening.  It was busy and the streets are slow.  I know the area well.  I maintained a special awareness of my immediate surroundings.  I resolved to stay in BACK of the vehicle at all costs.  I planned no confrontation; get the license plate number and go.  Yeah, I probably wouldn't report it -- no confrontation -- but the dudes would know I got their plates.

There's a line of thought in our community (such a rich bike community here that it has lines of thought!) holding that because we are vulnerable when we cycle, we must always genuflect, even in the face of threats and gestures of violence.  I've written to demonstrate a way we can obtain justice in such conflicts with other road users, directly, non-violently, and constructively.

My hand got microwaved!

2007-07-18T05:24:07Z

My office microwave Michael Bay's Transformed, resulting in a workplace injury!

I opena da door
I inserta da food
I cooka da food. Beeep!
I opena da door. The light turns on. The plate spins up. The radiation giving hum swells.
I abruptly close the door.
I open the door. The light turns on. The plate rotates. It burns me with the power of a thousand cell phones.
Do I close the door? Yes, I close the door.

Hypothesis: The polarity of the door open / door closed switch is reversed.
Procedure: Close the door. Program to cook for one second. Engage.
Results: My burrito is one heat-second warmer. Microbitch still wants to slap me.
Conclusion: Thoughts of a work of popular entertainment I know only by reference, in which electronics rebel.

How to easily make a perfect copy of a DVD with free software

2007-07-18T03:46:16Z

Difficulty: If you were able to install Linux, you can do this.

Prerequisites

An environment in which Linux binaries can run (e.g. a computer with Linux installed)
The following programs and their dependencies installed:
- K3b
- dvdbackup
Up to about 9 GB hard drive space for one DVD
Copyright ownership of any encrypted copyrighted materials you will be copying (U.S.)

Instructions

On my hard drive, I'll use /home/dvds as my DVD storage directory.

On the command line:
- cd /home/dvds
- dvdbackup -M -i /dev/dvd -o .
Enjoy a segment of Stella while waiting for dvdbackup to finish.
Open K3b. In K3b:
- Create a new DVD Video Project.
- In the upper "file browser" pane, navigate to /home/dvds. dvdbackup will have created a new directory there. Enter it.
- Replace the VIDEO_TS folder in the lower "project" pane with the VIDEO_TS in the upper pane.
- Burn Project. The subsequent dialog box presents the option to burn to image only. Executing with that option will write an iso file to your hard drive, playable by VLC and others. In that case, you need another ≤9 GB free.
  
  Otherwise, once it's time to burn, K3b will tell you whether a spendy dual-layer DVD is needed.
Delete the directory dvdbackup created to reclaim the hard disk space it occupies.

nospamat @ 2006-02-14T08:28:00

2006-02-14T16:32:34Z

Once in a great while, there comes a work of popular entertainment that, while insulting to the intellect, draws me in and seduces me like an addictive drug. In 2004, it was the dancing old man in the Six Flags commercials.

Today, it is the "lovely lady lumps" song, oft broadcast in dance clubs and gyms.

My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.

Check it out.

Flamebait

2005-12-07T19:18:50Z

I saw this charming signature on Slashdot today.

Grammer tip: 'Effect' is used as a noun. 'Affect' is used as a verb.

Commuting, Part Two

2005-11-10T23:58:38Z

SECOND EDITION, SHORTER

supplemented PHOTOSET PHEAR

THE FLY WITH THE SEA LION FACE

2005-11-10T00:29:57Z

nospamat @ 2005-11-09T16:10:00

2005-11-10T00:10:05Z

commuting, part one

PHOTOSET HERE

nospamat @ 2005-11-08T11:00:00

2005-11-08T19:00:15Z

Every anus is sacred
Every anus is great
If an anus is wasted
God get quite irate

The Dysfunctional Family Form Letter

nospamat @ 2005-11-07T15:23:00

2005-11-07T23:30:30Z

TO ALL.  STOP.

WHAT WORLD-WIDE-WEB SITE BOASTS THE MOST PARSIMONIOUS AEROFLITE FAREMASTER.  STOP.

Ggggggggutenberg

2005-11-03T21:36:04Z

Google Print debuts. (Google account probably required.)

nospamat @ 2005-10-31T14:22:00

2005-10-31T22:22:47Z

What is the world's largest subway system?

It's a common trivia question, for which I've heard several different answers. They can't all be right, right?

The current Atlantic Monthly buzzes in with the right answers, using a few good metrics.*

	Route Miles	Passengers/Yr.	Stations	Train Cars
London	*253*	886 mil	275	3 954
Moscow	165	*3 200 mil*	165	1 800
New York	230	1 400 mil	*468*	*6 400*
Tokyo	181	2 700 mil	276	3 609

Conclusions:

Muscovites pack themselves into relatively few cars on a relatively small system. They find it somewhat soothing, then, to ride through the world's most beautiful stations.

For NYC's overwhelming superiority in rolling stock, yuh'd think there'd always be room to stretch your legs at rush hour.**

Consecutive stations on the Tube, by arithmetic mean, are almost one mile apart! Perhaps the airport runs skew the statistical distribution?

Did anyone else see the Flintstones episode in which Fred's car broke down, and he and Barney had to take the subway to work? Most anti-transit screed-in-cartoon-form ever.

The article (The Nation In Numbers, "Stop and Go", pp. 60-61) states that no major city but NYC has all-night subway service. Transportation journalism always gets this one wrong. Chicago has 24-hour service on its Red and Blue lines. That service used to be universal on the "L", but it was discontinued because of budget cuts in the 1990's.

Update: The article does not explicitly give Moscow or London its superlatives. I can believe that Seoul and Mexico City have higher ridership than Moscow, but I am pretty sure London has the most route miles worldwide.

*No truth handler, you!
**Actually, I can tell you that several lines, such as the C, G, M, and R, do consistently have excess capacity at rush hour. Others, like the Lexington Avenue line, are crush-loaded.

Baseball playoffs

2005-10-05T16:42:38Z

I am guaranteeing a Sox victory.

portland photos

2005-09-05T19:29:30Z

=

30 wet and weird

Does this qualify as ironic?

2005-08-14T21:19:46Z

A brownout strikes, causing the rectifier to go offline during a film. I reset the circuit breaker and the recitfier. The recitifier rumbles and blasts a hot blue spark. The circuit breaks again. The last five shows of the day are cancelled.

So my career as an Omnimax projectionist ends in ignominy.

from the department of brutal poetic justice...

2005-07-25T18:14:58Z

Russia’s Biggest Spammer Brutally Murdered in Apartment

Vardan Kushnir, notorious for sending spam to each and every citizen of Russia who appeared to have an e-mail, was found dead in his Moscow apartment on Sunday, Interfax reported Monday. He died after suffering repeated blows to the head.

I challenge you to a math duel!

2005-07-10T17:12:37Z

(Some browsers are not able to render the symbols in Nos. 1 and 2. I've inserted descriptive hints for the benefit of those browsers' users.)

Electronic musician. (The symbol between the functions is a plus sign circumscribed by a circle.)
f(x) ⊕ f(x)

Warning: The solution to the following problem has a high groan coefficient :)

Punk musician. Sounds like... (The symbol raised to the fifth power is the Greek lowercase alpha. The symbol that may look like 'n' on your screen is actually pi.)
∫ ds + cis(^π/₂) d + ∝⁵

Place name.
ln [e^{C(a, de ello)}]^{^{^p/_v}}

Economics term. Sounds like...
^P_out/_{P_in} = ∑^∞_n=0 [n + -(n)]

Musician.
3[(^dv/_dt) (^ds/_dt)]