Rotorglow

1966 Dodge Charger
Originally uploaded by rotorglow at 1 Jan '07, 5.35pm EST.

Apropos of nothing, this is the only picture I can find (at the moment) of my dad's 1966 Charger. (Since I posted this pic, I've found some others.)

Is my uncle Peter posing with the car, or is the car posing with my uncle Peter?

After Daniel R installed an anti-spam CAPTCHA I did some digging to see how much comment- and trackback-spam I was catching/not catching. The news is not good:

This blog automatically catches about 850 pieces of spam a month. Happily, I never saw any of those unless I went looking for them in the spam traps.

Another 50 or so slip through and are held for me to moderate (which I do, by ignoring them). That's 50 notification messages that I have to delete from my inbox each month.

The 2 or 3 (max) legit comments each month I get are usually from the 3 of you who read this with any regularity, whose email addresses I've whitelisted, so that your comments are automatically published, and are not held for my approval. But that still means I have to deal with the 50 or so seemingly-legit comments from unlisted email addresses.

The CAPTCHA system should cut down on those. It'll force everyone to enter the code pictured in the grey box below your comment. The 'bots that are spamming me won't know what to do with that code, but the rest of you should. And if you're already whitelisted, entering the code correctly should still let your comment right on through to the other side.

Of course, CAPTCHAs are a big problem for the visually impaired. But...um...hey...

Note: If you mis-type (or omit) the code, you'll get a slightly misleading error message that says you can't post for a little while. I'll see about making that a little more accurate. For now, just back up, and reenter the code to try again.

You'd think I would have something more interesting to say after such a long break in posting. But at the moment....I don't. Soon though.

PROS:

"Now, I'm just going to check for any swollen glands."
Bedside manner requires direct eye contact
Follow-up visits

CONS:

Abnormally high blood pressure readings
Dry mouth, stammering, sweating
Otherwise unexplainable erections

* With props and apologies to Minor Tweaks' Tom Bartlett, as if he'll ever read this.

It's been a while. A really long while. Not really sure why, though there were some holidays in there, and I took a couple of weeks off and went to PA and moved a bunch of stuff to storage and and and....

So now it's the end of January, and I'm reminding myself that a working fireplace is the shizznit; even though it's almost always too hot in my apartment, a crackling (and convenient) slug of pressed sawdust and coffee grounds with a binder of copper and other metals that burn colorfully is quite a pleasant luxury.

I don't really know what to say about the last few weeks. The Eagles run in the playoffs was nice, and even though it was pretty surprising, it's too bad it didn't go a little farther. I've been a terrible correspondent, and I owe many of you email; "many" is a funny term in this context, because only about 4 people read these musings with any regularity. But I guess I'm addressing "many of you" in the grander sense, all the while being well aware that I should stop mentioning how much email I owe people and just get down to writing some replies.

I've also been sick, off and on, necessitating antibiotics to combat a sinus infection that generated some impressively vivid green snot. (I have pictures, but I'm going to keep them to myself.) The colds that preceded and succeeded that were a nuisance, but I guess that's how winter goes.

I've been trying to get control over some of the stuff that's accumulated around me. I'm in the process of dumping a few dozen VHS tapes to DVD. I'm getting rid of some old hardware on Craig's List. I'm going to reorganize bookshelves so that everything that should have a place on a shelf will. And for that matter, I'm even thinking of moving to a bigger place. And not in NYC, either, which is the place I usually threaten to move to. No, if I do it this time, it'll be to Winchester, MA, with Joe and Leah as my through-the-wall neighbors, where I can lay out all my furniture (and thus clear out my storage unit), put a roof over Veloce, root for the Winchester HS Sachems....and double my commute. Or I might just stay near the robber barons in Cambridge for a bit longer.

Things at work have improved drastically. Nothing like asking for what you want. I'm getting out of writing FORTH (which I hate), and getting more into interaction design and product management. It's a little weird to go back to IA after so much hard core coding for 4 years, but it feels good, under the circumstances, to get back to something I'm comfortable with. The fact that it's for mobile and not the Web means I still have a shitload to learn, but that's proving fun too (as opposed to writing apps for our platform), and I'm working on some cool stuff that I'm not allowed to talk about yet.

I'm doing a lot of this work on a new Mac laptop, and after 10+ years, it's pretty great to be doing work on Macs again. (BBEdit, for chrissakes!) These new Intel laptops are pretty amazing, and though I love my (tiny) 12" PowerBook, this 15" MacBook Pro is tough to beat as far as size vs. performance is concerned. (Plus, I can grill a steak on it!) I could have done all the Java and FORTH stuff on OS X, but until last week, I didn't have quite enough CPU in a Mac I could take to work to handle that stuff. So. Yeah.

Wow. What a boring post, so far.

The new year is typically resolution time, but I haven't really made any. What's the point? I'm not going to get in shape just because it's January. I'm not going be a better listener just because the days have started getting longer. So I'm left with all the amorphous desires that have been knockng around for a long time, none of which have really changed much. However, I do have a new (if vague) thought to be more scared of actual scary stuff (like 110 mph on the Mass Pike), and less scared of other stuff that is less likely to kill me or someone else (failure, telling people what I think/feel). Heretofore those things have been a little out of whack, and I've found it a lot easier to drop the hammer in 6th gear than to wink suggestively at someone or try a new recipe. We'll see if this new approach actually gets going and/or bears fruit. Or phone numbers, or whatever. It worked at work, so that's something.

But not everything has changed. The Robots still have the best show on the Internet, for one thing.

I have to say I'm kind of bummed out about saying goodbye to Barbaro today. Partly because, like Smarty Jones, he was a hometown horse, and was treated at Penn Vet's New Bolton Center. Maybe because his injury was simply a terrible thing to watch happen. Maybe something else.

But, yeah....

It's hard for me to explain how awesomely surreal the Intertubes were around Boston today. I was getting a lot of work done, of course , but the weird, fantastical events still managed to impinge.

For starters, there's this splendid van that Kat nabbed on her way to work. The details about Daniels Corp and their many products and happy customers are really too great to be believed.

Then came word that several bombs had been placed throughout Boston forcing shutdowns of highways, bridges, harbors, the T and, generally, causing a day-long panic.

As it turned out, of course, the "devices" were simply illuminated LED signs made by a local artist (who's now been arrested), and placed around town at the behest of Turner Broadcasting, benevolently misguided providers of the (exquisitely weird) Aqua Teen Hungerforce television show.

The signs have been there for 2+ weeks. Similar campaigns are running in 9 other cities. And now some lady "sees something" and "says something." Ok, everything's fine so far. Can't really fault her for that.

But wait...The cops show up, realize the device isn't dangerous, but decide to blow it up anyway.

You know....as a "precaution."

Then people go looking under other bridges and such, and find more of the same "devices". And they shut down said bridges, and reroute traffic, and with the breathless, eager help of the local media, perpetuate a big shitstorm of panic. The (otherwise refreshing) new governor, Deval Patrick, says "It's a hoax, and it's not funny." Well, no, Governor Patrick, it's not a hoax. It's a mistake, originally made by a jackass network and their jackass creative agency but absurdly compounded by you and the mayor and the MBTA and our local "authorities" and news media.

But there's more: While that hubbub is buzzing away in the background, and the intensely stupid mayor of Boston is looking for someone to sue, there comes word (via Tim) that a "Herpes Outbreak Triggers Wrestling Ban in Minnesota". And...well, that pretty much did me in for the rest of the afternoon:

Chris [quoting the article: "I think it's a bold step by our high school league to protect our athletes -- and it's better now than at post-season tournament time," [huh? herpes is ok at tournament time?]
Chris [riffing]: "better now than after the disease has spread from our young atheletes to the coaches who [molest] them."
Tim: lol
Tim: "No more wrestling the goats"
Chris: Yes!
Chris: "Additionally, this will help protect our important livestock industry, and ensure the safety of our food supply."
Tim: "Don't put your fingers in your eyes after wrestling with a goat"
Chris: "1.....2.......3" *slaps mat*
Tim: "Use Common Sense: Wash up! Protect your fellow naked wrestler!"
Tim: I feel better about Boston already
Chris: eww....apparently it's called "Herpes gladiatorum"
Tim: The manliest STD
Tim: Crabs Herculanium
Tim: Spartican Boils

And so, the day drew to a close. Later in the evening I watched a couple episodes of ATHF in celebration of its genius, and in commiseration (?) of the idiotic times we find ourselves in, realizing that the terrorists may have already won, and in a general state of amazement about the world.

I mean, that a day could start with Daniels laundry service ("ultimate protection from direct slide attack!", and end with "Spartican Boils" (with a pleasant stroll through a Mooninite bomb scare) is beyond my wildest dreams.