I’m currently in possession of two gigantic secrets. (Not about anyone here.) I’m money with secrets; I never tell. But damn if it isn’t killing me to not be able to talk about them. Both are the kind where something huge might happen and those are the kind you really want to chew on in detail with other stakeholders. Alas.
Last night we came up with what would be the literal worst job in the world (for me): reading and reviewing or summarizing business books. I’d rather clean a pig truck with my tongue.
It took me until age 47.2 to figure this out, but it’s a game changer.
For years, I have needed to shave only every other day during the work week. My beard is thin, white, and fuzzy. (I realize that according to the standards I see on tumblr, this dooms me to a life without love, a life not knowing a woman’s touch. Such is my cross to bear.)
Historically, I shaved on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings. A little extra fuzz on Sunday? Whatever. But I had to shave yesterday for a meeting and today it dawned on me that a new, more optimized shaving schedule is Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday. This way, I only have to shave twice per week before work instead of thrice, allowing me two more minutes of sleep† net per week.
† By “sleep” I mean “laying awake thinking about my life” but that’s still better than being up.
I learned about a new thing today: eosinophilic esophagitis. Turns out it’s possible to be allergic to something you eat and the only place the symptoms manifest is in the esophagus. Wanna see the pictures?
Next stop: allergist. It would be hard to overstate my fear that the allergen is something in beer, wine, or whiskey, or, heaven forfend, the critical common ingredient to all three. Do you think that’d qualify me for a medical marijuana scrip?
I talked with the guy who will be Danny’s baseball coach this “spring.” He’s coached Danny before, and I know him a little. Super nice guy, great with the boys, and he played Div I ball so he really knows the game and the mechanics of the swing. He asked if I’d be able to help coach. I hesitated, knowing that leaving my office before 5:30 is something like that scene in Shawshank where they all taunt the new fish on their way in to the cell block. I told him “sure.” I’m gonna march right the fuck out of there at whatever time I need to to get to practices and games. I truly, truly cannot think of a better reason to get fired, should it come to that.
Ain’t no nap like a fentanyl hangover nap. Sweet, sweet slumber of the angels, even while the World’s Most Expensive Roofers were working with power tools right above my head. I totally see where Michael Jackson was coming from. (On insomnia. Less so on the batshit insanity and depraved, possibly criminal creepiness.)
Did you hear it melting? I did. It was like music, the drip-drip-drip of that horrendous, soul wrecking sky-ice as the sun mass murdered it and gravity bore its gray, wet carcass into the filthy sewers for the burial it deserves. I will survive this winter and dance on its grave.
My mortality. Statistically, I’m probably on the back nine. I find myself wondering less about firsts and more about lasts. My body reminds me every day: various bits breaking down, my metabolism withering as my middle swells, my hair rapidly approaching “rumor” status. Oh, and the slowing of the mind! Simple words that are hard to find, memories and faces which I struggle and fail to drag from the haze, stuff that coworkers told me an hour ago that sounds brand new.
I’m old. I feel it. I look it. I am it. And don’t fucking argue with me.
But today I was reminded that I still have purpose, and that, when most needed, some of my powers are as strong as they have ever been. I can still find the words when I have to take things apart, examine their little pieces, and put them together again. I can focus under the right circumstance. My adrenal glands are as functional as they have ever been and I swear I hope you, reading this—you, who are my friend—never find out. It’s simple.
In the mid-80’s, Hüsker Dü exploded in classic rock-and-roll fashion: drugs, alcohol, fistfights over songwriting credit, insults on stage, etc. Hot hate. Bob and Grant still take shots at each other in the media. Bob took a little time off, dried out, and in 1989 he went up to a farm in the Minnesota woods and wrote Workbook, a dark, brooding, angry masterpiece that goes to the desert island with me.
Shortly after that he released Black Sheets of Rain. You can probably guess from the title that it isn’t a walk in the park, either. It’s angrier and more violent, and where Workbook has a lot of sparse, clean guitar playing, this second album brought back the wall of screaming guitar sound he was more known for previously. I love the record, but no one else does. His label reports official sales of 7,000 units to date.
Perhaps realizing that expressing all that anger wasn’t helping, or maybe because he had gotten it out of his system, he next formed Sugar and out comes Copper Blue with a fair number of upbeat, almost poppy tunes like this. Happy Bob! But no:
And now you find as time goes by You’re left with nothing meaning much
Angry Bob became Existential Crisis Bob.
Hang in there, Bob. It will get better. (to be continued, maybe)
By rartastic! I do believe this is the first time ever. Much excite! So questions!
Always post the rules
Answer the questions from the person who tagged you
Write 11 new ones
Tag 11 people and link them to the post
Actually tell them you tagged them (hopefully they will check their own tags)
Tags. I’m going for people who are relatively new to me in the hopes I may get to know them better: potjie, pasteisfun, broomtilda, escapereality, eoporto, bunnkwio, quickwitter, coyotesqrl, notyouraverageharlot, ayeshamus, rhetoricallydomestic.
New questions for the new players:
Sink or swim?
We have to leave RIGHT NOW because the cops busted our meth lab. You have to grab only one personal belonging from your home; what is it?
And where are we going? One-way ticket—never coming back.
Which Beatle do you most identify with and why? (Assume the dead ones aren’t.)
Fish or fowl? Or neither?
Which movie can you quote the most dialogue from?
If you could make one federal law, what would it be?
What’s the worst? Like, the literal worst? Like, you can’t even?
Name the head of state you most want to see shirtless.
What was the best moment of the last 24 hours?
Fight or flight?
Rachel’s questions for me and my answers below the fold unless you’re on the tumblr app in which case blame them:
This is a grim start to the day, but important stuff to know.
More tactically: look at a map of Ukraine, and specifically Crimea which Pootie-Poot (remember when this guy was besties with GWB? LOL) wants to annex, apparently. It’s technically a peninsula, but it looks more like an island in the Black Sea connected to the mainland via a narrow isthmus. Politically, it is hard to understand how it could become part of the sovereign Russian Federation given the problems with the topology. It’s easy to imagine that Vlad would want a land route there.
Besides the map, he’s got another reason to want to expand the corridor. Crimea gets nearly all of its electricity and most of its food and water from mainland Ukraine. It’d be trivially easy for the Ukrainian government to play some serious hardball post-occupation. [source]
Stay tuned. There are a lot of ways this could go, most of them seriously terrible.
Happy Saturday. Late last night, Apple released 3 iOS updates, 6.1.6 and 7.0.6 for iPhone and iPad and 6.0.2 for AppleTV.
These updates contain a very important fix for a potential security issue.
There is a serious vulnerability regarding SSL websites on existing versions of iOS that would allow a web site that is not properly encrypted to pretend that it is.
This opens up a can of worms for making sure that you can trust what you’re seeing - and that you’re the only one seeing it when connected to a secure web site (that’s pretty much all social media, commerce and banking web sites).
We recommend that you upgrade to iOS 6.1.6, 7.0.6 or 6.02 for Apple TV as soon as possible.
MacOS X 10.7.x and 10.8.x are not vulnerable to this particular problem, but OS X 10.9.0 and 10.9.1 ARE affected. There is not yet a patch for this, but we suspect that we’ll be seeing one in the near future.
This one’s a biggie, and you don’t even have to update to iOS 7 to get it, so get on that, my friends.
This is a thing if Tom says it’s a thing.
Taking it a little further: I would NOT use Safari on 10.9.0 or 10.9.1 until they are patched. It is believed that man-in-the-middle attacks are already in the wild for this bug. Chrome and Firefox are not affected; use those instead.
I went through the 10K+ songs in my collection, admittedly quickly, looking for the best example of an F# minor power chord, and this is what I came up with.
With all the respect in the world for R.E.M. and the understated yet wonderful Peter Buck, if he’s the best example of a power chord you’ve got, in any key, it’s time to look hard at your collection.
What I’d rather do is head down to the basement and record a demo of Les Paul -> Fulldrive -> Marshall and show y’all motherfuckers what a power chord is all about, but there are wee people sleeping elsewhere on the premises and it wouldn’t be meet.
This is where it gets stupid for the “currency of the future.”
I want to exchange some US dollars for bitcoin, but I don’t want to do it by giving my banking details, or a credit card if I can help it, out to some outfit that’s been in business for five hours and is based in Bucharest.
This isn’t the future Neal Stephenson promised me.
Start time: 18-Feb-2014, 7:00pm. Googled around and decided to install the basic bitcoind on one of my Debian linux boxes. I intend to build it from source in headless mode. There are probably easier ways to install a wallet, but I want to browse around, understanding…
I’m liveblogging my attempt to buy some bitcoin over on my nerd blog.
TL;DR: it’s harder than it looks, or I’m REALLY overthinking it.
I don’t watch a lot of TV. But some nights I get lazy and flip channels, and if I see a former Lost cast member, no matter how idiotic the show, I stop and watch. I can’t quit them.
Speaking of TV, I wanted to see Fallon last night, but he got pushed to 11 by the snow pageant and that’s too late for an old man who had his nineteenth nervous breakdown while digging out his house and car for the sixty-fifth time this year.
Unpopular opinion: I think dibs are un-American and an affront to one’s own community. I was deeply proud that my old neighborhood in the city didn’t do it. We helped each other instead of illegally marking public property as our own. Felt good, man.
Going to California in May. 72 days 9 hours and 7 minutes. Approximately. Assuming the flight doesn’t get canceled by snow.
All kidding aside: if I’m not doing it for you, please feel free to unfollow. Stuff happens, tastes change. I promise you’ll get no butthurt, no confrontational ask boxery, no complaints, no awkward WTF moment at chsh. You’re gonna hurt your thumb if you keep scrolling that hard.
Tonight was supposed to be a workout night but I opted to go have beers with my old boss, networking. More is scheduled. The iron will be there until the heat death of the universe, but my career won’t.
My palm reading haunted me all day. I’d rather be lucky than good, goes the saying. Alas.
Don’t let me send work emails tonight. Take my phone if you have to.
I am no more than a 3rd degree FOAF to Avery but I find myself moved by her plight as though I know her well. She’s part of the tribe. Do not mess.
There is WAY more going on here than I can do justice to. One feature I notice is a star that's positioned kind of midway between your mounts of Apollo (ring finger) and Saturn (middle). A star under Apollo is a sign of brilliant artistic achievement. A star under Saturn is ill-fated. HOWEVER, your star is contained in a square, and that indicates protection. So whatever the saturnine influence is, it'll cut without killing. You're rich in talents--music, leadership, communication--but not luck.
Have you seen Kimmel’s Mean Tweets videos? You need to go to youtube right this minute and watch all seven of them. It makes Sunday all sparkly and shit.
Jeanne speaks truth. Go do this now. Admittedly, I’m a guy who likes well-crafted insults, so maybe I’m predisposed to like this, but the Andy Dick insult in episode #1 made me laugh so hard I had to pause the video.