3742 Where has cute gone?

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Poor spelling does not prove poor knowledge,

but is fatal to the argument by intimidation.

--Gene Ward Smith--

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I get feeds from the cute animal sites.  Feel good. For the past few months, it seems like every other post is either a pug or a sloth.  Enough already!  Why?  What's going on?  Have the boundaries of  "cute" been redefined?

Pugs always look woefully confused.  Poor little things.  (Now, you don't have to defend pugs.  I'm not saying they ARE confused, I'm saying they LOOK confused, and I don't find "confused" to be "cute".)  Anyway, I don't get the "cute" tickle I'm looking for from them.  Besides, their eyes stress me out.  I keep expecting them to pop out. 

I worry that the overload of sloths will result in all those immature idiots with more money than sense who always go into "I WANT ONE!" mode deciding they're the perfect pet.  The folks who do no research, don't understand that standard pets have generations of domestication in their backgrounds, and expect the exotic animals to fit their definition of pet.  Sloths are getting too overexposed for their own good.  Same thing happened to Fennec foxes and a host of small big-eyed jungle beasties.

I want kittens and puppies back (the bunnies can take a vacation, though), and not grumpy ones, either.

I WANT CUTE!
.

3741 Potato

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Whenever anyone says "theoretically", they really mean "not really". 

--Dave Parnas--

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I normally would be very annoyed by the current fad for using "z" instead of "s" on the end of plural words, like "kidz".  I figure that at least it discourages those people from adding the superfluous apostrophe, like "kid's" as the plural form.

I am, however, very annoyed by PC people who insist that ALL rape is about power and coercion, that NO rape is about sex, ever.  Bullpoopy.  I want to slap them.  Some is absolutely about sex, about wanting something so badly that the perpetrator actually hears no objection, interprets all resistance as a game that he is expected to play to reach the goal.  Like the sex-want takes over his mind and everything is interpreted in a way to get him there.

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 I was peeling a squash last night, using a potato peeler.  I was thinking about how easy it was, compared to using a knife.  Then I had one of those flashbacks.

Daughter says I hold onto stuff from my past, that I should just let it all go.  (This from the 37-year-old who tells me all the stuff I did wrong when she was a kid.)  It isn't that easy to let stuff go, because I never got what the shrinks call "closure".  These are things that formed me, made me what and who I am, and with most of it I never found out why, whether it was something about me, or the other person, or what, that caused it.  I never got apologies.  Apologies and/or explanations are very important.

There was something wrong with my father.  He liked to beat Mom and us kids.  We're talking beating to unconsciousness, and when I say "liked", I mean exactly that.  It wasn't loss of control in anger.  It was fun.  He looked for opportunities, and if none presented when he was in that mood, he created one.  Traps.

I was the dinner potato peeler in my teens.   I had to use a knife, and the peels had to be super thin, so no potato was wasted.  It was difficult and time consuming, using a steak, not paring, knife.  When I was done, he had to inspect the peels, and if there was too much white on them, I was punished.  The peels were little tiny nibbles.


One day I was at a neighbor's house, and the mother there was using this marvelous implement:

That evening, I told my father about this marvelous invention, that would make very thin peelings every time and save lots of time.  Zip zip and it's done!

He was furious and beat me for displaying my stupidity and laziness.  I would continue to use a knife, because that's the way it was supposed to be done.

Yes, I am still angry at his unfairness.  Yes, it still bothers me.  Yes, still, occasionally, I am overwhelmed by anger, anger that I am not allowed to express to anyone, and therefore can't release.

I guess that's what blogs are good for.  Maybe it's released now, a little bit? 
.

3740 Nugget is not her mother.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Democracy, n.:  A government of the masses.  Authority derived through mass meeting or any other form of direct expression.  Results in mobocracy. Attitude toward property is communistic... negating property rights. Attitude toward law is that the will of the majority shall regulate, whether it is based upon deliberation or governed by passion, prejudice, and impulse, without restraint or regard to consequences. Result is demagogism, license, agitation, discontent, anarchy. 

-- U.S.Army Training Manual No. 2000-25 (1928-1932), since withdrawn. --

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The Nugget is acquiring words very rapidly now.  She asks, "What's that?", and you tell her, and she repeats the word to herself, and from then on she's got it.  We're getting multi-word sentences now, and it's amazing how toddlers seem to automatically absorb sentence structure.

I am constantly reminded of her mother's toddler years.  There's a temptation to compare the two.  I'm amused when Nugget has the same reactions, does the same things.

There are some big differences, though.

Daughter was very good at physical orientation, at using her hands.  She could put things on spindles, thread cords through big wooden beads, figure out how things fit together at an early age.  Nugget is a bit of a klutz.  Instead of lining up a lid on a container, she just puts it generally on top and tries to get it to go on with sheer power.  I got her a sort of record player with plastic disks you put on a spindle and close the lid, and she's having great difficulty with the concept of spindle.  Push buttons, however, she's got down cold.  You show her once what a button does (stop, go, rewind, play, light up, eject, ring bell, etc.), and she's got it forever.

One thing that frustrates me - Nugget is not good at spatial orientation, or something....  If something goes into a slot, she ALWAYS tries to put it in 90 degrees off.  Always. Like if she's trying to put bread into the toaster, she'll try to cram it in crosswise to the toaster.  She'll try to put a coin horizontally into a vertical slot, and vice versa, and she just doesn't seem to "get it", no matter how many times you show her.  Very strange.  She now has riding toys she can steer, and she runs into everything.

Her mother, however, who was so good at stuff like that, never learned to write or print.  Her handwriting is so atrocious no one can read it (not even she herself after time passes).  I suspect Nugget will be neater, but whether or not she masters longhand, I predict that she's going to be an amazingly fast typist.

I guess she's a knowledge accumulator, not an analyzer.  Her mother analyzed everything, "figured out" everything, and that continues to give her problems today.  She over-analyzes everything.  Nugget doesn't seem to be interested in figuring things out, beyond "what does it do and how do I make it go?"

Toddler Daughter was a thinker.  Toddler Nugget is a doer.

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Daughter came home from nursery school (Montessori) one day in the late '70s, and mentioned something that had happened, "...and I felt like I had a bare behind."

I asked, "Do you mean you were embarrassed?"

"Yes." she said, "But you told me not to say that word."
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3739 Singles' groups, and more

Saturday, June 8, 2013

If I have seen farther than others, it is because I was standing on the shoulders of giants.  -Isaac Newton
If I have not seen as far as others, it is because giants were standing on my shoulders.  -Hal Abelson
In computer science, we stand on each other's feet.  -Brian K. Reed

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Meetup has a few local singles' groups that I joined.  I haven't gone to anything because I'm not really looking, plus they seem to concentrate on booze, bars, and bands, which don't interest me.  But I joined just so that if I ever wanted to check the local single males, I wouldn't have to plow through the several hundred NYC offerings to find the local singles' groups.

That "not really looking" is key to today's rant.

One of the local groups has sort of blown up.  Some guy wrote a group-wide email complaining that NONE of the women in the group seem to be really looking.  He complains that he constantly gets the brush-off at events, and on the few occasions when a woman consents to a date with him, it goes no further than a dinner or two or three, and no further.  He complains that the women in the group are not really interested in any relationship, at least no futher than a few free dinners.  He says that all the women seem to have already decided what they want in a man, specific criteria and high standards, a list of requirements that no man could ever meet (let alone the men who resort to Meetup - those are my words, not his).  He says the women go to meetups not to meet up, but just to socialize and reject.

He was then joined by other men in the group who agreed with him, a blizzard of whining emails.  (Not one woman responded with what I would expect to be the rational response - "Hey, fellows, maybe it's you.  Maybe you're turning them off.")

I think there's a very wide divide between men's and women's expectations at any event listed as for singles.  Women go thinking that the best way to find "the one" is to meet as many single men as possible, and this is one way to meet a bunch.  Men go thinking that wow, here's a whole bunch of women starving for sex, I ought to be able to get one of them for myself.

It's like the men think, hey, if you don't want to sleep with me, why are you here?  Why are you wasting my time?


Well, the organizer's response to the furor was a note to the women of the group, saying that if you're not "really looking", then maybe you shouldn't be a member of the group.   Um, is she saying that if you don't hook up with a certain number of the male members per year, you should drop out?  Isn't that procuring?

Are the women expected to prove that they are open to a relationship by sleeping around?
.

3738 Diary

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers ... 

Each one owes infinitely more to the human race

than to the particular country in which he was born. 

-- Francois Fenelon --

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Yesterday I went to the bank, picked up some file boxes at Staples, stopped at the "hand wash only" car wash place to find out what detailing entails and how much it costs and made an appointment for today for the BMW, went to Verizon to get the replacement wifi box mated to the laptop (2 hours again), got the oil changed and the radiator flushed in the van ($160!), and stopped at the IHOP to get takeout garden crepes.  Arrived home at 4 pm to find Daughter and Nugget on my porch.

Things somehow went west from there.  I offended Daughter somehow.
.

3737 Wasting time...

Sunday, June 2, 2013

You can give a man a fish and he will eat for a day,

or you can teach a man to fish and he

will sit in his boat all day pouting because no one gave him another fish.

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Amost all birds, no matter what they eat as adults, feed their babies meat (bugs, worms, larvae) because the babies need protein to grow muscles and bones.  Even adult seed-eating birds need real seeds.  They won't get the nutrients they need from processed stuff like bread.

So I have to (secretly) snort at my neighbors who toss out bread scraps to "feed the birds".  It's ok once in a while, to attract birds to look at them, but I wish people wouldn't make a habit of it.

If you want to feed baby birds, you should put out a chunk of rotting meat, to attract bugs.  The parent birds would appreciate that.  Or half a container of cottage cheese.  That'll be full of nice fat squirming maggots within hours.  Yummy!

--------------------------------

I went to the country house last Thursday, returned yesterday, first visit since last fall.  I was very worried about what I'd find.  Afraid the house would be full of yellow jackets, mice, spiders, snakes.  Afraid I'd find all the pipes and wires stolen.  I was worried enough that I reserved a hotel room for Thursday and Friday nights.

Actually, I was surprised that the house was actually fine.

Well, the mice had gone to town over the winter.  There was nothing for them to eat, but it was a warm place to hang out.  And they did nibble the buttons on the TV remote.  Finger oils on the buttons, I guess.  (Maybe potato chip flavored oil.)  They had gnawed them down flat.  I could still use the remote, by pressing the buttons into the base.

I had taken my laptop so I could keep up with the mail and feed reader, and because there was an eBay auction I wanted to snipe.  And because the country house has no internet, I took along the portable wifi pack I'd bought a few months ago to replace the (lost, accidentally left at a hotel) plug-in DSL dohickey that had served me so many years.  (I try never to use "public" wifi like in hotels and coffee shops, because I don't trust their security).  I tested the setup again just before I packed up Thursday to leave.  Worked fine.

Got to the (internet connection-less cheap place) hotel Thursday night, and although my cell phone had four bars, the wifi pack had only none or one bar.  First thing Friday morning I took it to the Verizon store, waited for a half hour for a rep to get to me, complained that it wouldn't pick up a signal, and that although I had been told that the battery would last a week if it was left on and a month if turned off, I'd never gotten more than two hours use before it needed charging.  So they kept it for the day to test the battery.

Then I went to the house but didn't get much done because I had to meet Piper for lunch.  I absolutely did not go to his office, because every time I've done that I've ended up sitting there for an hour or more waiting for him to get loose.  Damn!  If he's going to insist that we meet, he'll do it on my terms.  I called him and said I'd be at the village diner at 2 pm (that's when I eat lunch on this six-meal plan), and that I'd be there one hour.

Well, Piper being Piper, the lunch was the usual almost two hours.

Didn't get make much forward progress back at the house, had to clean up mouse poop and refill all the plumbing traps that had dried out over the winter, stuff like that, and then go back to Verizon early evening.  They said the battery was fine, that it will last a week left on but asleep and a month turned off, but if you're using it, two hours is about right.  What the hell!?  But, they noticed that even there, where it should have had 4 or 5 bars, it was picking up only 1 or 2.  So eventually they swapped out the SIM card, and it went to 4 to 5 bars.  They have such crowds in there that you have to sign in and wait.  I was there about an hour and a half.

But now it's all fixed, right?

Back at the hotel, now it would come up and connect to the laptop, but not to the internet.  "Local connection only".  Huh?

Friday morning back to Verizon.  Sign in and wait again.  This time I took the laptop, too.  The device is bad.  It worked in NJ, but the last thing it had done before I packed it up to leave was auto-install a software update.  They figure the update must have gone bad, but that doesn't really make any sense.  No idea. It's still under warranty so they will send me another, will arrive Tuesday, then I have to go to the NJ Verizon shop and get the laptop tweaked for the new device.  That's going to eat up half the day Wednesday.

I am also pissed because they no longer sell the simple little plug-in I had used for so long with no problems, so I was forced to upgrade to this thing, which is complicated enough to need software updates, and therefore has the potential to crap out again at any time, especially after the warranty is gone.  I hate being forced to upgrade to something less reliable and more complicated (and more expensive) than the old thing!  (My cell phone is a little clamshell that takes and makes calls, and that's enough for me.  I think it can text, too, but I've never tried.  It needs charging maybe once a week. I hope to hell it never breaks.)

Crap.

So, between Piper and Verizon, I got nothing done on that trip.  And a trip to the country house isn't cheap.  $40 in gas, 260 miles worth of tolls, and this time at least two nights at the (cheap) hotel.  I am royally pissed.

So, ok.  I get home, and the first thing I do is start up the laptop to check all the things I hadn't been able to check.  Here I use the house cable wifi.

"Local connection only."  Huh?  No internet again!?

Oh, my God!  Is it the laptop that's screwed up, not the little device?  What do I do now?  What about the new device that will be arriving, and my laptop is screwed up?  How much time have I already wasted on this?  Oh Good Grief!  I completely freaked.

I went over to Daughter's house and asked if I could use her laptop to check my mail and feeds.  Hercules was there, and I asked their advice about what to do with the laptop.  He said if I want to buy a new laptop (this one is six years old, and the a, e, t, and h keys are worn blank, and I don't touch type, and that's the least of its problems)  he'd transfer all my junk for me.  He suggested that I bring Herman (my laptop's name) over and try it with their house wifi.  So I did, and guess what - it worked.

My city house wifi somehow got messed up, too, and I wasn't even here!

So back to my house, and I reset the house wifi (pulled the plug and plugged it back in again) and it worked just fine.

Two separate unexplained problems.  Weird.

Someone is trying to tll me something.

--------------------------------

I'm going to have to do something about Piper.  He wants to have lunch every time I go up there.  I've explained to him over and over that I don't really have the time when I'm there.  This trip I tried to limit him to one hour, but that doesn't include that I get dirty working there, and there's no A/C so I have to wash up and change clothes and drive into town and back again and then change again, so even one hour for lunch is actually more like almost three.  And it's never just one hour anyway.  Not to mention that the house is cooler earlier in the day, before the sun hits the glass walls on the west.


New rule:  I will have lunch with him every fourth trip.  Period.  And I'm considering making it an early dinner, so I don't lose the earlier part of the day.

Wish me luck.  I must not cave in when he starts acting hurt!
.

3736 More guns

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Any simple problem can be made insoluble if enough meetings are held to discuss it.

-- Mitchell's Law of Committees --

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A little over two weeks ago I wrote about the danger of blowing off fingers with a 3-D printed gun.  How do you test it?

Well, here's how:  http://youtu.be/V8iHAS4iGyg (warning, NSFW because of sound of gunshots).  Their finger-saver cracked me up.  Note that on the first shot, the barrel fell off.  Plus, between shots they had to replace parts, including the screws.  Note that the trigger changes colors.  The guy who made it said in an interview (I believe it was him) that even though the gun had fired ten bullets without exploding, he's still not sure the next bullet wouldn't blow it apart.  Story at http://mashable.com/2013/05/20/3d-printed-liberator-handgun.

This was I think the first video posted of a home-printed gun. There are now several on YouTube.  I guess folks can stop pushing for background checks.  Seems like the horse has left the barn.

--------------------------------

It seems like I have a very unusual bird in the back yard.  It's about the size of a robin, solid black with a small yellow bill - typical starling or grackle**, perhaps, except that it had one very long pure white feather down the middle of its tail.  Very pretty.

A little research reveals that blackbirds are turning up here and there with either one white feather down the middle, or two white feathers, one on either side, of the tail.  Most of the reports seem to be coming from New Jersey.  A mutation?

[Actually, it didn't really look like either a starling or a grackle.  Tail was longer than starling, and beak was shorter than grackle.]
.

3735 What are the odds? Not good, it seems.

May 28, 2013

Money is like sea water. The more you drink the thirstier you become.

-- Roman proverb --

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In most of the reporting and stories about the tornado that hit Moore, OK, last week, someone asks why there aren't more tornado shelters.  Most people answer that although the area is called "Tornado Alley", the chance of a tornado actually coming close is so small it's not worth the cost.  It's big country there.  It's sorta like getting hit by lightning.

In all those stories and reporting, no one to my knowledge has mentioned the 1999 tornado that hit Moore.  It was an F5 (the  highest rating), a mile to two miles wide, killed 41 people and injured almost 500, hit 8,132 homes, 1,041 apartments, 260 businesses, 11 public buildings and seven churches, and has the distinction of the fastest winds ever recorded for a tornado, at about 300 mph.

That sounds like the topography around Moore is conducive to funneling funnels right through there, maybe? 

Maybe a few dollars worth of root cellar would be a good investment after all.
.

3734 Crap!

Sunday, May 26, 2013

"The right to offend is far more important than any right not to be offended."

-- Rowan Atkinson --

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I wrote a long opinion piece over the past hour. It involved looking stuff up, and links, and so on. I was being very careful choosing words because I was certain it would offend a lot of people.  And then, just before the end, I accidentally hit "CTRL-A" instead of the intended "SHIFT-A", it wiped out the entire post, Blogger happily autosaved the now-empty post for me, and "UNDO" did nothing to fix it. 

I don't feel like repeating the effort.  I'll just go to Blogger Help and find out exactly what CTRL-A does, and wonder howcome I didn't know about it.  It's a mistake I often make, CTRL or CAPS LOCK instead of SHIFT, but it had never gotten so drastic a result before.

Have a nice weekend.  Me, I've been freezing my tail off.
.

3733 Back yard business

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Art is anything you can get away with. 

-- Marshall McLuhan --

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There's some kind of very small bird hunting insects just before sundown every evening.  There's dozens of them, and they form a roundish cloud above the tops of the trees, and they swoop and dive in an intricate pattern. 

Immediately after sundown, the bats come out.  They fly in more angular patterns, with their wings more forward, and tend to spread out.  They come from somewhere in the woods on the shore of the lake.  They gave me an idea for Hercules' birthday next week.  I bought him a bat house.

About every early afternoon I hear a lot of racket out back.  We have a hawk living by the lake, and the smaller birds don't like it.  When he comes around he gets dive bombed by crows, blackbirds, and sparrows.   Something thrilling about a tiny sparrow bombing a hawk, hitting him in the back with claws out.

In the late afternoon, there's a racket from the big gum tree.  There are two pairs of woodpeckers who want to claim it as their own territory.  They chase each other all around and through the tree, screaming the whole time.

The robins who collected my yarn?  The yarn and twig nest, a few feet from the side of my house:

Momma bird is there, on the nest, although you can barely see her.  Daddy bird just chased a cowbird away.  Daddy bird is a hero.
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3732 Time waster

Thursday, May 16, 2013

I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought,

but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.

-- Albert Einstein --

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Google Easter Egg:

Google "Atari Breakout", then click on "images".

Let it load.

Say goodbye to your day.
.

3731 Welcome back, leg.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

If you explain so clearly that nobody can misunderstand, somebody will.

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Nugget got her cast off today (3.5 weeks).  We went to the doctor's office, quick xray, doctor said looking good, nurse went at it with a saw which Nugget didn't like at ALL, and then it was off.

Her right calf is visibly smaller than the left.  The calf muscles will be weak for a few weeks.  Doctor said not to encourage her to walk.  Let her go at her own pace.  And absolutely NO CLIMBING for three weeks.  (I don't know why. That's going to be rough.  She's part monkey.)  Come back in four weeks.

In the waiting room there was a big wooden train set on a low table that fascinated her, so after the cast was off we let her play with it for a long time.  She was standing holding on to the edge of the table, and she fell three times.  Either the leg doesn't want to hold her up, or she's bending the knee as if the cast is still on, but there's no bulk now under her foot, which unbalances her.  Or both.  So, yeah, it'll be a while.

I don't think she truly noticed that she had her real leg back for a while.  Back in the car, strapped in her car seat, she looked at her legs, studied them, then she lifted the right leg by the knee and foot, and kissed the calf.

"Welcome back, leg.  I missed you."
.

3730 I don't understand.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

A jury consists of 12 persons chosen to decide who has the better lawyer.

-- Robert Frost --

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I don't understand why folks of Spanish heritage are called Latino/a.  Weird.  Latin --> Rome --> Italy.  Aren't Italians the real Latinos?

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What?  NJ birds have taste?

I put out nest-building yarn.  An ugly orange 2-ply sport yarn, and some off-white worsted 4-ply that I had cut and split into 6 to 8-inch lengths of 2-ply.  Both were polyester or something - not wool or cotton, anyway.

All the off-white is gone.  The orange is still lying there.  Rejected.  Forlorn.

I don't understand.
.

3729 Knitting a nest

Monday, May 13, 2013

Mythology, n.:  The body of a primitive people's beliefs concerning its origin, early history, heroes, deities and so forth, as distinguished from the true accounts which it invents later. 

-- Ambrose Bierce, "The Devil's Dictionary" --

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I noticed a robin in my back yard picking up bits of straw and grass.  So I cut some 6" lengths of orange sport off-white yarn and tossed them on the patio.

I didn't see the bird come by, but within a half hour it was all gone.

Cool.
.

3728 On printing guns, again

Monday, May 13, 2013

Impartial, adj.:  Unable to perceive any promise of personal advantage from espousing either side of a controversy or adopting either of two conflicting opinions.

-- Ambrose Bierce, "The Devil's Dictionary" --

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Two posts back I wrote my opinion on 3-D printed guns.  This article points out that although the plans for the gun that were briefly available online had been downloaded 100,000 times, apparently no one has actually done it. 

I love this part, the last sentence:

According to experts I spoke with, printing the various parts that comprise the weapon would take at least eight hours. In other words, it's extremely possible that people intending to make a 3D-printed gun haven't quite finished doing so, or haven't quite finished the YouTube video. It is also possible that the hand with which they type now contains a lower number of fingers than it did on Sunday.

3727 Nugget

Saturday, May 11, 2013

With capitalism man exploits man.  With communism it's the exact opposite.

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She's bringing me a mothers' day card she made for me all by herself.  When I walked in the door she ran excitedly to the dining room to get it.  It's snips of colored paper glued to the front.  Her mommy helped cut the paper, but Nugget did the color selections and placement design, and the gluing, all by herself.


She was very proud of it. I was very impressed and told her so. It's now displayed on my refrigerator.

Daughter said that at the nursery school the teachers are very grabby.  The kids make things, and then the teachers grab it and write all over it.  Nugget finds that very frustrating.  She made it very clear to Mommy that she wanted it left exactly as she made it.  ("No! Mine! Ahma! (Ahma is me))  So there's no writing inside, which is fine with me.  I don't need no freakin' writin' to get the idea.

They took me out for a Mothers' Day brunch Friday. 
As you can see, she's walking with the cast.  The cast itself is purple, but her mother is obsessed with keeping it clean, so it's covered with a white daddy-sock.



[http://youtu.be/Ajq5oLOZJV0]

The white bag the Nugget is carrying is my doggie-bag.  By the time it got to the car, the home fries, shrimp omelet, and strawberries & bananas were all mixed together.  Oh well, at least it made it to the car.

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In that first photo, note the forelock.  Then take a good look at my profile photo.  Same forelock (if you can manage to see it....).
.

3726 Thoughts on exploding things

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Adopt the pace of Nature. Her secret is Patience
-- Waldo Emerson --

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Lots of fuss now about 3-D printed guns.

Ho hum.

The first problem is the printers. 

I know some people who own home versions of 3-D printers.  The small least expensive ones are more like toys, but cost a minimum of $1500.  They don't work as well as those YouTube videos would lead you to think. You have to feed them plastic "ink", and if you think the cartridges for your regular printer are expensive....yeouch!  The production machines you see on YouTube are horribly expensive.  You're not going to find one in your neighbor's basement.

In some, the base moves, in some the print head moves, in some both move.  This gives you a multitude of possible error points - the head clogs, the head burps, the belt moving the head or base slips slightly, and so on.  There are a lot of misprints using up a lot of that precious plastic before you get a useable item.

The device has to be fed code describing the part to be printed.  That's another big exposure.  How much do you trust the folks who produced it?  Those plans are also usually expensive, no matter how they are generated.

The second problem is the printed gun.

If the entire gun is 3-D printed, the slightest misprint/glitch could cause the gun to explode in your hand the first time you try to fire it.  So how do you test it?

Shooting a standard bullet generates heat.  Heat is not kind to plastic.  So even if it has been demonstrated that it's well printed from good code with no burps, I would be afraid to attempt a second bullet.

Of course, this is all blather from my own head, and there may be no problem at all.

I wonder if soon we'll be seeing a lot of one-handed amateur gunsmiths.

Schadenfreude.  Tee-hee!

--------------------------------

Have you heard about PC-Kus (sheesh - who named that)?  The reason your hair eventually turns gray is that you build up hydrogen peroxide, which bleaches the hair in the roots.  PC-Kus is a topical cream that converts (breaks up) hydrogen peroxide into hydrogen and water, allowing the previous color to return.

(The bad news is that the longer your hair has been gray/white, the less effective it is.)

The discovery was a byproduct of research on vitiligo, a condition that causes the loss of pigment in patches of skin.

Hmmmmm.  The water probably won't be too great a problem, but one could hope that the tops of very vain people's heads might explode from a build-up of hydrogen.

More schadenfreude.  Tee-hee!
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3725 A Little Rebellion

Saturday, May 11, 2013

God grant me the serenity to accept stupid people the way they are,

the courage to maintain my self control,

and the wisdom to know that if I act on my feelings I will go to jail.

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Received in an email from a friend:

Carl Gibson, NationofChange / Op-Ed
Published: Thursday 9 May 2013

We all know corporations aren’t people.

An Easy, 4-Step Method to End Corporate Personhood

If you knew you could end the concept of corporate personhood at the local level, and that everyone all over the country was doing it too, wouldn't you try it? All you need is $50 to $100 depending on what state you're in, a vehicle, and a carpool lane. A briefcase is helpful, but optional.

We all know corporations aren't people. The mere suggestion that an entity with an unlimited lifespan - that doesn't eat, sleep, make love, or even have a measurable pulse - is a legitimate "person" is laughable. So here's an easy way to prove that laughable concept to local law enforcement, and more importantly, your local judge.

Step One: Form Your Own Corporation
It's incredibly easy to form your own limited liability company, or LLC. Even though an LLC isn't officially recognized by the IRS, you can classify it as a partnership or an S corp. can walk you through the entire process. All you need to do is go to your local Secretary of State's office and request incorporation paperwork for your own LLC. The fee is generally $50 to $100 to form your own corporation. You may also need to request an Employer Identification Number from the IRS to make your corporation official. Once your corporation is formed and approved by your Secretary of State's staff, move on to step two.

Step Two: Drive in the Carpool Lane During Rush Hour
Most major cities have a designated lane for carpools, where vehicles containing two or more people can ride to bypass heavy traffic. This part is where a briefcase will come in handy, to give your corporate "person" some personality. Once your corporation's paperwork is safely secured in a briefcase, fasten the seat belt for both yourself and your corporate "person." Drive in the carpool lane with only yourself and your briefcase in the car. Make sure you signal appropriately, drive the speed limit, don't drive with any incriminating substances, and abide by all traffic laws. If you're lucky, you'll be pulled over by law enforcement.

Step Three: Perplex Local Law Enforcement
When you see those flashing lights in your rearview mirror, signal and pull over. If you have a smartphone or any sort of recording device, turn it on and record your conversation with the officer pulling you over. The cop will most likely give you a ticket for driving solo in the carpool lane. This is where you explain to the officer that you indeed have two people in your vehicle - yourself and your corporation, which the Supreme Court says is a person for all legal purposes. The cop likely won't buy it, and you'll be issued a traffic ticket and a court date. Now, don't fret, because this is a win-win situation for you.

Step Four: Get Out of a Traffic Ticket/Abolish Corporate Personhood
Your court date will likely be at least a month in advance, so you'll have plenty of time to prepare. Wear professional attire to your court appearance, and make sure you bring your corporate paperwork with you - again, a briefcase would be beneficial here. When you see the judge, explain your situation just as you did with the cop who pulled you over. The cop should be in the courtroom with you, anyway (and if not, you automatically get out of paying your ticket and court costs). The judge has two choices. He can uphold corporate personhood, agree that your corporation is a person and that the two of you can legally ride in the carpool lane. Or, the judge can force you to pay the ticket and the court fees, while laughing at the suggestion that your bundle of paperwork in your briefcase is a living, breathing person.

While the second option would probably cost you at least three figures and increase your insurance premiums, you have the greater victory of a lower court striking down corporate personhood, and simultaneously contradicting both the 2010 Supreme Court ruling as well as the 1886 ruling, which first established the concept of corporations as people.

Imagine if judges in all 50 states abolished corporate personhood in such a way! The Supreme Court wouldn't dare appeal or ignore the decisions of lower court judges in every state. And all it takes is a little rebellion and devious thinking on our part to get it done.

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3724 Disturbing bits

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Common sense is what tells you that the world is flat.

-- Malaclypse the Younger --

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With the exception of those whose celebrity is based on sex appeal, there is an inverse relationship between your earning power and the distance between the top of your hipbones and the waistband of your clothing.

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New constructions driving me crazy:

• "Embarrassed of".  I guess they are confusing it with "ashamed of" and "frightened of".
• "Could of/would of".  Are they mishearing "have"? Or are they just lazy?

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The minor news this week is the installation of a spire on the top of 1 World Trade Center, which "makes it, at 1776 feet, the tallest building in the western hemisphere".  

Sorry, but I don't consider spires, radio towers, or the like to be part of the building.  Yeah, it was built, and it's on the building, but isn't that like my spiking my hair six inches high and then claiming to be six inches taller? 

I figure a building is as tall as its highest habitable floor.  All else is decoration.

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I have gained a lot of weight in the past 8 months.  I always told myself I wasn't too fat if I couldn't see my tummy past my bust.  I am now too fat,  by about a half inch.
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3723 Been a while

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Wow.  I hadn't realized it had been so long since my last post.  Everything's ok.  I just haven't had a lot of time, and haven't had much to say.

The Nugget has finally started walking with her cast.  Because the cast has a bend in the knee and ankle, she can't straighten that leg, so she's a bit lopsided and wants one hand held when she walks.  For the past 2.5 weeks she had been crawling dragging the cast or scooting on her bottom to get around.

Not that it's slowed her down any. 

About 10 days ago a little neighbor friend came to visit. The friend had been pushing a toy lawnmower that blows bubbles.  Her mommy told her to leave it at the end of Nugget's driveway.  Nugget happened to be in the yard when they arrived.

She took one look, yelled, "Mine!  Mine!  Mine!  Mine!" and scooted on her bottom across the lawn and down the driveway so fast no one could stop her.  Of course, once in possession of the coveted mower she couldn't stand up to push it, and it lost its charm.

I didn't know she knew that word (Mine!) or had those sentiments.

She's almost thirty pounds now, and the cast adds some weight.  Daughter is maybe 5'0" and 102 pounds, so the past few weeks, when Daughter had to lift and carry the Nugget everywhere, and Nugget wants to be picked up all the time because sitting on the floor next to Mommy's feet is not at all the same as standing and hugging Mommy's hip, have been hard on Daughter.  (I can't lift the Nugget at all any more.  She's getting tall.  She's about up to my waist.)  I've been spelling Daughter for a few hours every day, so she can at least get a shower and some rest for her back.

Next Tuesday they have an appointment with the cast doctor.  We'll find out then whether the cast can come off, get replaced with a smaller one, or has to stay on a little longer.

I'm going to check K-Mart for one-a-them bubble blowing lawn mowers to celebrate when the cast comes off.
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