Black Friday?

It’s 12:05 am. Officially it’s the day after Thanksgiving.

Time for the first turkey sandwich. (My favorite part of the feast!)

Apparently some people associate this day with shopping. I have no idea why.

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Happy Thanksgiving

We have a great deal for which we should give thanks. Here are a couple of images to put you in the Thanksgiving mood. (I’ve always liked Norman Rockwell’s paintings because they’re the absolute polar opposite of trendy and ironic.)

. . .
Update:

My meager bandwidth just went to near-zero. No images today!

You’ll just have to imagine a Rockwell painting…which isn’t hard. I’m going for a walk in the forest with my yard wookie. (Which is what I should have been doing anyway.)

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

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Starting The Week Off Right

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Lit Candles II

Yesterday I posted a list of small freedoms that make life better and are the canary in our National coal mine.

I noticed that virtually everything on my list, harmless or not, is opposed by somebody somewhere. Possibly for good reasons, often for pathetic reasons. Folks who oppose freedoms, especially small ones, tend to gaggle together into groups that exist for the purpose of inflicting their supposedly superior judgment on my life.  I suppose they’ve got a hollow place that needs to be filled?  (Or is that too harsh?)

At any rate it reminded me of a cartoon from long ago so I found it and posted it below.  This Thanksgiving season (and all seasons) let us celebrate the things they’ve failed to ruin. Then get out there and sniff some daisies.

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Lit Candles

“Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”

Since Thanksgiving will soon be upon us I thought I’d make a list of “little” freedoms. Not big freedoms like guns, religion, and speech.  Even the smallest of freedoms make life better and serve as the canary in the coal mine.

  • Coffee escaped the fate of cigarettes. There was a time when coffee was on the informal list of things that were “officially bad”; that list started with heroin and wound up with coffee and cigarettes in a near tie. Cigarettes got hammered. Coffee did not. I’m not sure why. Perhaps Starbucks put lattes in the hands of snobs and Marlboro didn’t. I simply assumed the cigarette banners would go after coffee next; no coffee in offices, anti-coffee billboards, special taxes, second hand caffeine, etc… It never happened. Sadly they kept beating smokers until the poor bastards are bloody pariahs. (Mea culpa: Initially I was in favor of mandatory non-smoking zones in certain restaurants. It became the slippery slope that it led to no-smoking everywhere, just plain hassling a populace, and punitive taxation of an unpopular group.  I regret my initial naiveté and won’t make that mistake again.)  I don’t buy the logic that consenting adults must stand outside in a blizzard lest someone hypothetically sniff the fumes and immediately develop nuclear double secret suable lung cancer.  Airline flights and pre-schools made sense but smoking is now verboten in machine shops, monster truck rallies, bait stops, biker bars, and strip clubs. They went too far!  Suppose I ride helmetless to dive bar called “Grizzlie’s Shithole” and slam tequila shots like an animal while getting a lapdance and gambling the rent money.  We’ve got laws that say that smoking is banned and immoral even in that environment? I wish I’d defended smokers better. Shame on me.  But I did learn my lesson; incrementalism worked on smokers so if a politician tries to get between me and my coffee I’m going DEFCON4 on the son of a bitch instantly.
  • Summer vacation. The only reason kids aren’t complete zombies is summer vacation. Every year some technocrat decides that parking captive children in classrooms should be an un-interrupted money flow. So much easier for everyone except the kids. Educrats don’t care if they rip the soul from a childhood.  I do.  Thank God we’ve got enough humanity to parole kids in the summer sun.
  • Getting a car license with no formal training whatsoever. I sucked when I learned to drive. My parents, who tried hard, were lousy teachers.  I, though meaning well, was a terrible student. Yet I eventually got a license without a single stinking class.  I’ve now driven so far and in so many situations that those initial shaky days are like dim memories of another dimension.  (Note: as an adult I’ve voluntarily taken classes in motorcycle driving. Because I wanted to ride well; not because I was a captive meal ticket. See: Summer vacation.)
  • Accelerators. Nearly every car out there can go faster than the fastest posted speed limit. Have you considered how much this pisses control freaks off? Thank your lucky stars that Ralf Nader and his minions haven’t bolted a governor on your Buick. And don’t think they haven’t considered it.
  • Motorcycles. The car you drive probably has side impact air bags, anti-lock brakes, automatic transmission, and possibly traction control software. If you drive it without the seatbelt about a thousand alarms will go off. In that world, motorcycles are anachronistic. Your car’s door locks engage automatically. I ride without a door. Thank God they haven’t outlawed motorcycles yet. I wear a helmet but some states let you make that choice too; which is a good thing.
  • Chainsaws. Take a good look at a chainsaw. Holy crap, it’s a death machine! It’s designed to cut, tear, and rend.  It (like a gun) will gleefully destroy whatever you apply it to; be it oak or leg.  OSHA must have fits just thinking about them. I’m glad that they haven’t regulated saws out of existence.
  • Beer. In 1919 the 18th amendment outlawed liquor. Bootlegging went from a tax dodge to real crime. By 1929 organized crime was rocking and rolling; that’s the year Al Capone’s men machine gunned their competition in the Valentines Day Massacre. (Update: Check out Carpe Diem for a nifty historic political cartoon.) By 1933 the nation had come to it’s senses and the 21st amendment ended prohibition.  Hmm… Fourteen years from implementing a flawed stupid policy to rectifying their colossal misjudgment.  Not too shabby.  Apparently depression era voters learned from failed policies better than current ones.  (Modern day attempts to change course invariably get shafted by some self-righteous tool.)  Kudos to depression era prohibitionists who started with a honest and clear constitutional amendment.  Kudos to voters who fixed the mess (mostly) with another constitutional amendment. The lesson doo-gooders learned is to obfuscate.  Now prohibitionists slide in low and under the radar.  They do it well.  For example; which constitutional amendment outlaws pot?  Nor do they really want to ban stuff…just maximize the hassles they dish out; thats why cigarette smokers are hounded with regulation and taxed like slaves but not outlawed.)
  • Metric. In 1975 the Metric Conversion Act was signed. America’s central governing authority ordered us to go metric like our vastly superior European counterparts. The American people inexplicably told the government to buzz off!  Yes, metric is superior for just about any purpose but I’m delighted to live in a world where the American people just wouldn’t budge on something as simple as quarts versus liters. How amusingly archaic of us!
  • Hunting. How many Americans hunt? A damn army of them! I didn’t notice a nice clean national number so I picked some random states; Michigan = 686,000, Texas = 650,000, Colorado = 375,000, Minnesota = 500,000. Rhode Island, which is smaller than some back yards in Texas, has the lowest number with 8,250 deer hunters. Pennsylvania tops the list with 1,300,000 (!) deer hunters.  That means every State in America has hordes of privately funded, entirely volunteer folks who will get off the couch and schlep around the cold wet woods earnestly endeavoring to shoot, gut, and eat a 150 pound wild animal. Millions, yes millions, of Americans choose to handle the smelly, repulsive, arduous work of gutting a deer, work hard to do it, and own at least one lethal weapon.  Huzzah!  It’s a miracle that hunters can live in the same world where post modernist hipsters are deconstructing the Simpsons at Starbucks.  Whenever some city based chowderhead is trying to foist green energy regulation and expensive subsidized light rail mass transit on my deeply rural lifestyle I remember that we descend on the forest en masse and hunt.  Me and hundreds of thousands of my neighbors, engaging in a difficult, lethal, athletic, and yet frequently spiritual act of self-reliance!  We don’t just talk the talk; we are out there gunning for Bambi.  Society still has a backbone. God bless America!

On that happy note I’ll end my list.

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My Vision Of An Excellent User Interface

We’ve all had dreams where we imagine we’re doing work tasks.  Doesn’t that suck?  All night long your subconscious pretends you’re working like a dog.  Then you get up and do it for real.  Ugh…

That happened to me last night.  I dreamed I was making elaborate calculations on subsets of a database.  Then merging subsets and looking at pooled statistical properties.  Good grief.

But there was a twist.  I wasn’t dreaming about sitting on my ass in front of a beige box.  Instead I was somehow making calculations with a blacksmith’s forge.

This is good user interface. I want one.

I had a pavilion with bellows and a nice coal fire.  It was snowing outside but comfortably toasty near the fire.  I’d take a database (which my subconscious conveniently chose to take the form of bars of iron) and heat it up in the flames.  I’d grab it with tongs and hammer the sucker into submission on a big honkin’ anvil.  Then I’d plunge it into water and somehow just know the answer.    “Ah ha!  The standard error is sixty three units!”

I’d think something like; “I wonder what a merge of the other dataset would do to the pooled sample?”  Immediately I’d see a bar of some other metal like copper.  Into the flame it would go.  Then I’d bludgeon the two metals with the hammer.  Wham wham wham.  Fold it a couple of times.  Dump it into the water.  And I’d know the answer.  “Excellent!  The variance seems much more predictable now.”

At some point I was half aware this was a dream.  Not a difficult deduction given that I was hammering iron and copper and zinc and somehow that was turning up as non-linear regression.  But it was working!

And it was fun.

When the alarm went off I still had the memory fixed in my mind.  It worked damnit!  But by the first cup of coffee reality had set in.  You can make horseshoes with an anvil but not an ANOVA table.  Shit!

What a bummer.

Just for the record if anyone makes an interface like that.  (Steve Jobs’ successor perhaps?)  Sign me up!

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Lifesized Rubik’s Cube

I recently acquired a slightly used office desk. Like most furniture I own it’s made of slabs of pressboard with the bare minimum woodgrain surfacing. Like most furniture I own it’s been disassembled roughly five hundred times and it’s broken in several places. Of course I retrieved it in a disassembled state and instructions are unheard of.  (Who needs instructions anyway.)

I just had to look at the pieces until I got it figured out.

This is a lot like “free firewood”. It’s totally awesome, provided I bust my ass assembling it.

Well ya’ know what? I did it! Yeah man…it worked.  I’ve got one of my computers sitting on it right now.  Eleventy dozen screws and pins and holes and tabs actually lined up. I can’t believe it. The woodgrain surfacing even matches the flooring in my secret lair home office.  It’s a win of the cheapskate lottery.

It’s almost too good for a loser like me.  I never expected to get far beyond the plywood and sawhorses stage of life.  I’m pretty much a function over form kind of guy anyway.  I’m not used to it but it won’t take long for me to spill soldering tin and coffee on it…then it’ll look like something I own.

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Another Golden Pravda Winner

The Golden Pravda is a coveted award issued to recognize excellence in obfuscation wherever and whenever it is found.

The Golden Pravda is not issued according to a set schedule but rather at the discretion of a Curmudgeonly blogger.

(Note: Some people have argued that a yahoo with a keyboard and no other journalistic qualifications should not wield such immense power.  Others have pointed out that only a distant third party observer can make rational evaluations.  Debates on this matter inevitably hinge on one’s evaluation of credentialed Norwegians giving Yasser ArafatAl Gore, and Barack Obama Nobel peace prizes for blowing up discotheques, whoring Global Warming, and being Black respectively.)

A few days ago I issued my first Golden Pravda to NPR for sitting on the Gunwalker scandal eleven months after whistleblowers broke the story and then only mentioning it obliquely.  I was impressed.  It takes dedication to remain so studiously uninformed. 

Today I’m issuing a runner up award; The Silver Pradva.  This time to CNBC for showing six republican presidential hopefuls (including low probability folks like John Huntsman) while eliminating Herman Cain from the display.  Hat tip to Captain Capitalism (who pays more attention than me).  I’ve decided to limit it to a Silver Pravda (instead of the illustrious Golden Pravda) because I didn’t find the same display when I looked at CNBC (thankfully Captain Capitalism preserved a screenshot), because CNBC bores me so much I can’t really take them seriously, because I’m in a good mood, and because I’m keeping my powder dry for the upcoming election season.

Just for the record I checked out Cain’s current Gallup numbers:

See the guy who's 78% ahead of his nearest competitor in "Positive Intensity"? Yeah, he's apparently irrelevant.

A.C.

P.S. (Ironically my first Golden Pravda mentioned that NPR took the time to flog Cain before dealing with the minor detail of the Executive Branch fomenting illegal international gun running. Perhaps Golden Pravda candidates are a hive mind? I entreat future candidates to come up with unique obfuscation. Show some spirit!)

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Symmetry

This post was made at

11:11 am on 11/11/11

Ponder the cosmic significance of this numerical moment.

Cool eh?

Now, get back to work.

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Happy Veteran’s Day

A hearty thank you to all Veterans; living and dead.

A.C.

P.S.  That’s my flag.  I just took a picture.  You do have your flag out don’t you?  If not, what the hell is wrong with you?  (Also, no bitching about my flag being a bit frayed.  I didn’t notice it until I zoomed in the camera.  I’ll get a replacement shortly.  I don’t want to hear it.  Etc…)

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