Conceit and Sociopathy

Good Stewardship, or Testing, Testing!

2012-01-28T20:41:00.001-06:00

I've spent the day playing around with my Sun Ultra 5 workstation.

A month ago, I downloaded the latest version of Solaris 10 from Oracle, patched it, and have been tweaking and upgrading it (off and on) for the last couple of weeks. Solaris isn't what I'd call a "desktop" operating system, ie meant for your average home end-user, and as such is lacking many of the amenities normally found in your average Linux distro. Things like a blogging client, for example, and decent IM client.

But then, people who use Solaris (and other Unixes) generally know what they are doing when it comes to building apps from source code. Myself, I know a fair bit, but there are gaps in my knowledge big enough to drive a bus through. But I'm learning... slowly.

Such was my conundrum this past week. After tweaking Solaris 10 to the point where it was usable to me, I started exploring its capabilities and put it under a bit of pressure. The built-in IM clients sucked (MSN and ICQ won't authenticate), and trying to blog using Firefox was a painful experience. I found a couple of blogging clients that would supposedly work under Solaris 10, but had absolutely no luck getting them to compile. Fought for a few days, and finally gave up.

Yesterday, during a slow work day, I had a look at the VNC client installed on my office PC. I forgot I'd installed a VNC server on a fellow employee's computer in order to help him out when he got stuck (he's not very computer-savvy). After spending a few minutes messing with the guy's mind, I decided to research the VNC server that was bundled with Solaris 10. I printed off a few instructions and helpful hints, and brought them with me when I left for home.

Setting the VNC server up on my Ultra 5 was dirt simple. Run the server once, kill it, then edit the configuration files it creates on its initial run. Done!

I took note of my IP address, set the vnc server running, and fired up my Linux box. Added the Ultra 5's info into the Linux box's VNC client, and managed to connect! Unfortunately, the client displayed nothing but the generic X-windows checkerboard pattern and hourglass mouse pointer. Crap. So much for that.

I did a bit of tweaking on the Ultra 5, but nothing happened.

It wasn't until this morning that it hit me... the client won't display the Ultra 5's desktop in a VNC client IF I'M ALREADY LOGGED INTO THE ULTRA 5 AND USING A GRAPHICAL ENVIRONMENT. Duh.

So, I logged out of the Java Desktop Environment (aka Gnome) on the Ultra 5, and logged back in using a console log-in. I made sure the VNC server was running, ran back to the Linux box, fired up the VNC client, aaaaannnnd.... success!

Twitter

I can now access my Ultra 5 remotely if need be. Of course, I usually turn the machine off when it's not in use, as I'm rather paranoid that way, but it's nice to know the capability is there should I need it. It also lends itself to experimentation, as I have VNC clients for a number of my other machines, including my old 68K Macs. Might have to give that a go in the future.

After I'd done that, the sheer pointlessness of it all hit me. I mean, sure, I can access my Ultra 5 from my Linux box, but why? My Linux box can already do everything the Ultra 5 can do and more... not to mention do it faster (3.2GHz Linux box vs 440MHz Ultra 5). So this afternoon, I set about to level the playing field somewhat.

I found a great blogging client called ScribeFire, which is an add-on for Firefox. This post was written largely as a test run, and I'm happy to say it works quite nicely. Found a couple of Twitter add-ons for Firefox, but they were largely underwhelming (except for Power Twitter, which I love). Added in an ad-blocker, and I find web pages load that much faster.

Now, my Ultra 5 will never come close to catching my Linux box in terms of speed and functionality, but it's great to be able to keep the ol' boy functional and useful instead of throwing it out...

Wide Awake in Winnipeg (UPDATED!)

2012-01-02T07:46:00.000-06:00

I have insomnia.

For the last two weeks, I have been largely unable to sleep at night.

I can't figure out why. I'm not under any more (or less) stress than usual, there are no lingering issues at the back of my mind, and I've gotten over my repeated bouts with "the bug that's going around".

My mind hasn't been racing when I turn in, my diet is as good as it (n)ever was, and I'm not taking in much (if any) caffeine or sugar in the hours before repose. I don't nap during the day, and our environment is largely quiet, so that's not an issue.

I just can't figure it out.

Being unable to sleep at night leaves me feeling exhausted during the day, which has been fine up until now, as I've been on holidays... however I'm back at work tomorrow.

If I don't get some shut-eye tonight, my customers may find me surlier than usual tomorrow.

Perhaps it's time I returned to my old method of having a couple of shots (bourbon, whisky, etc) before turning in..?

I can deal with being hung-over.

That said, Happy New Year to all my faithful.

Insomnia or not, I've refrained from doing a year-end roundup post. I think the last time I did one was back in 2005 on the main website. My memory ain't what it used to be, and there was a lot about 2011 to remember... things like:

January: Announcing to the world that Jillian and I are engaged, and moving her in two weeks later. Hell also froze over... I bought my first cellphone: a 2004 vintage Palm Treo 650. Bought for $5 on eBay.

February: Taking the day off work, Jill and I spent my 38th birthday shopping and hanging out at my old haunts, having breakfast at the new Salisbury House on Leila, running around downtown and Polo Park, and capping it all with dinner at the Spicy Noodle House in the Osborne Village. February also marked my return to the church after a 30 year absence (albeit in a different church, in a different denomination).

March: I announce to my family that I've decided to convert to Catholicism. It met with a little tension (I was raised Anglican). March also marked the first time I observed Lent, which was a character building experience.

April: Found out I missed a hero of mine, former hacker Kevin Mitnick, on his visit to Winnipeg. I gave up the Internet for Lent, and as such was not aware of his visit until he'd left. After Lent, I finally brought Nadia back from the dead for the third time, which enabled my return to mobile blogging.

May: The TRS-80 Model 100 community lost a great friend when Rick Hanson, proprietor of Club 100, succumbed to cancer. In happier news, Jillian returned to work full-time, enabling us to...

June: ... buy a SUV, a 2006 Ford Escape. For the first time in fifteen years (apart from a couple of months when my '86 Daytona Turbo Z was running) I didn't have to take the bus. Funny how grocery shopping is less of a chore when you have a vehicle. It also came in handy when we had to rush my cat, Ethin, to the animal hospital on an emergency basis. Almost lost him, but thanks to the quality care he received, he is still with us.

July: Unfortunately, no animal hospital could save the New Winnipeg forum, which shut its virtual doors in July.

August: A few of us from the New Winnipeg community got together for one last hurrah. It was fun, and one of the regulars proposed starting a new forum to take its place. I also discovered the joys of Bluetooth devices, and the attendant fun that one could have.

September: Began planning in earnest for the main website's 10th aniversary in February 2012. I also started a design company after being inspired by a lamp a friend's daughter created in her university design class. I ain't gonna be outdone by no teenage girl! ;)

October: Realized I'm being called to work with the poor, hungry, and downtrodden. Once our wedding and honeymoon are over, I will be entering the fray.

November: I'd finally had enough of Tripod's blog interface, and migrated my blog back to Blogger. I haven't looked back since. My traffic has increased tenfold, and I've had a much more positive response. I also enjoy blogging again.

December: The planned follow-on for New Winnipeg, the WinnipegZoom forum, opens. The imminent demise of print media is again predicted (not gonna happen in my lifetime). The world loses Vaclav Havel. December 23rd marks the one year anniversary of the day I proposed to Jillian. I also announce a forthcoming podcast, starting in February 2012.

Well heck, I've gone and done a Year in Review post anyway... I seem to be resurrecting a lot of my old traditions lately.

Merry Christmas, et cetera...

2011-12-25T07:12:00.002-06:00

Merry Christmas to all my friends and hangers-on in the blogosphere!

In the spirit of the season, I give you the following (non-returnable) gift.

http://pda.conceitedjerk.com/Public_Disservice_Episode_Zero-Merry_Xmas.mp3

(Click "Save As..." if you're having trouble downloading the file natively)

RIP Vaclav Havel

2011-12-18T10:13:00.001-06:00

Sigh.

Another of my heroes is gone.

Czech playwright-cum-dissident-cum-president has succumbed to respiratory problems and passed away at home this morning.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/12/18/vaclav-havel-dead-dies_n_1156221.html

More to follow later today...

Introducing... WinnipegZoom!

2011-12-17T19:00:00.004-06:00

Here's some good news... It appears Winnipeg has a new online forum, WinnipegZoom!

Former New Winnipeg member Munchkinguy has started a forum of his own to fill the gap (such as it was) left when the New Winnipeg forum closed its doors.

Please give WinnipegZoom a look, the forum can be found here.

I've joined under my original alias "conceitedjerk", and hope to help Munchkinguy build up the WinnipegZoom community. Although I don't know how much time I'll have to spend there, you can bet I'll be good for a few comments...

Books: The Last Chapter..?

2011-12-16T09:03:00.003-06:00

Just caught this on one of my new favourite blogs.

http://typewriterheaven.blogspot.com/2011/12/all-that-was-once-solid.html

If you have an interest in books or printed material in general (as I do), I'd encourage you to check it out.

How long until they bring guns..?

2011-11-25T10:55:00.001-06:00

Just caught this via my newsfeed:

Woman pepper-sprays Black Friday shoppers

This reminded me of a similar incident that happened a couple of years ago.

I don't know about you, but this behaviour absolutely sickens me. I mean, when is that Blu-Ray player, iPhone, or LCD screen worth more than a person's life or safety?

Society needs a good kick in the ass.

Biting the Hand that Rocks the Boat, or Kids These Days...

2011-11-23T11:41:00.000-06:00

Usually, I know better than to wade into stupid arguments.

But this time, I felt I had to say something. I needed to set him straight.

Outside of his pot-smoking, "stick it to the man" world of anarcho-punk, nobody else got it. Somehow I just didn't understand how I was merely a tool helping Big Business and The Government in their efforts to keep the free-thinking, morally justified poor man down.

I grabbed him by the lapels of his ~~uniform~~ jean jacket (emblazoned with the requisite slogans and band logos) and said, "Don't give me any of your sass, kid. I was you before you were you!".

"You're a slave!", The Kid hissed, "You're a slave controlled by the corporations."

"What the Hell are you talking about?" asked the man.

"The corporations, man! They own you!" The Kid continued, "They control what you listen to, what you buy, what you think, and they do it through the mass media."

"Uh huh," the man said, half-amused and half-skeptical.

"And you don't even realize it!" The Kid's venom flowed, "You're gorging at the trough of Consumerism, fattened up by the Capitalists until you can be sold for slaughter for their profit!"

"Uh huh," said the man again, skepticism turning to annoyance.

"They control the flow of information! They keep you sated, dumb, and dependent," continued The Kid's diatribe, "You can't live without their processed foods, their time-wasting 'entertainment products', their oil, and their cheap mass-produced electronic goods. Without a steady supply of their crap, you'd wither and die!"

"Listen, kid..." the man interrupted.

"Don't you 'Listen, kid' me," The Kid screamed, "I don't need no automaton talking down to me! Grow some balls and start thinking for yourself!"

The man turned away in disgust and walked away.

"Don't come crying to me," The Kid hollered after him, "to come bail you out when the world goes to Hell!"

That Kid was me. The man (as opposed to The Man) was anyone unfortunate enough to talk politics with me.

In the early 90s, I was a holy terror. I'd just hit my twenties, and had a profoundly negative world view... formed by the megabytes of poorly-spelled, gramatically atrocious Anarchy textfiles I'd read from BBSes at the time (home internet was still a couple of years away), and shaped by the same anarcho-punk music I listened to at the time. I was also (along with 400+ coworkers) laid off from my job at a local farm equipment manufacturer due to business climate and politics due to foreign ownership, which really didn't help my mindset.

In my (now-admittedly) warped view, both The Government and The People were simultaneously being controlled by The Corporations and played against each other. The People were kept in their place via the mass media, dulling our minds with vacuous TV, music, and movies, and fuelling the economy by keeping us hooked on cheap, mass-produced, disposable consumer goods. The Corporations used their Government lackeys to swat us back down should we stand up to them, and would lobby The Government to approve whichever unsafe practice or chemical they needed for whatever reason.

Yeah, I was that far-gone (and got worse when we got an internet account via the University of Manitoba). Thankfully, I stopped short of wearing a tinfoil hat and living in fear of foreign intelligence services.

But, we all have to grow up sometime. After finding a new job and being forced to take anger management courses after a series of... events, my world view did eventually soften. The world isn't quite so bad, and people aren't the mindless sheep the "enlightened few" make them out to be.

--

I relayed that message to my young counterpart from the intro to this post.

"Mindless sheep," I told him, "wouldn't have overthrown their dictators in the Arab Spring. They wouldn't be Occupying Wall Streets worldwide. They wouldn't be protesting Tar Sands and oil pipelines. Even the most, as you put it, brainwashed, among us know we have the power to change our situations. I have only to point to these recent examples."

"Huh," he said, as he began to realize.

"As for consumerism, have you ever heard the phrase Voting with your feet?" I asked, "Voting with your wallet?"

He nodded in the affirmative.

"After a while, people get sick of planned obsolescence. After replacing their broken DVD player for the nth time, people will begin to look at better quality models." I told him, "The same holds true with most consumer goods."

"And after getting so many defective goods back," I continued, "the retailers stop carrying them if they're no longer profitable."

"I see," he said.

"And as for your dreaded Conservatives?" I smiled, "They're only in power because, realistically, there wasn't anyone else to vote for... the other parties were either full of newly-appointed and inexperienced members, or were self-destructing."

It was sinking in, so I gave him the only piece of advice I'm qualified to give, "It's alright to fight, but know why you're fighting, and whom. Ignore the spin and commentary, focus on the issues. Get it?"

"Yes," he replied.

"I'm glad," I smiled, "but never stop questioning."

He smiled and walked away.

I smiled, knowing I've come full circle... in the immortal words of Johnny Rico, "We're the old men, Ace!"

Which reminds me, I vaguely remember planning a tongue-in-cheek series about the New World Order years ago... perhaps it's time I picked up where I left off..?

Strictly Commercial

2011-11-22T11:39:00.001-06:00

If you have a wide enough monitor, you'll notice an advertisement for a friend's business along the right-hand column of the blog (those of you with smaller monitors and/or lower resolutions will need to scroll to your right).

If you're one of the RV set, you may want to visit their site and post it somewhere handy in your vehicle... they offer mobile service, and you just never know when you'll need help!

Now, this sets a precedent. I'm all about supporting local and independent businesses, and one way I can help would be to offer up some of my unused side-column space for advertising purposes (listed alphabetically).

If you own a local business and are interested in advertising here, feel free to drop me a line (remove the AAARGH! from the address before sending).

In the interest of community-mindedness, I work strictly on the barter system.

A Tale of Entitlement (Part Three)

2011-11-21T14:16:00.000-06:00

Part Two is here

The following is a true story I just made up.

Jill dropped me off at work at precisely 7am the following morning. I had no messages in my voice mail, and no emails. While putting the coffee on, I unlocked the door to the shipping area... which is something I don't normally do, given that we open at 8am.

While keeping my eyes and ears open for activity, I set about my morning routine. As I was running through my backorder report, I heard scurrying in the direction of the shipping area. So, I walked back to see what was up.

"Hello?" I inquired.

"Hi Shaun," said a voice, "I'm here for my parts!"

I recognized the voice, but not the face.

"Parts?" I asked.

Cust: Yes. I'm Jimbob from Turnip Brothers.

CJ: Oh! Sure, follow me.

I led him to my desk, and handed him the box.

Cust: I figured I'd better come myself to pick 'em up. Can't afford any mistakes today.

CJ: No worries, I fully understand. I apologize for the mixup yesterday, I don't know what was up with the courier... Shit, I waited until quarter to six last night. Maybe they got busy over the afternoon..?

Cust: I don't know, but it cost me twelve bucks per pick-up attempt. I appreciated your call, though.

CJ: Well, if you hear any more from them and we can't resolve the issue, let me know. If it turns out we're partially responsible for the screw-up, we'll work something out with a freight credit to offset the cost.

Cust: Great, thank you, and thanks for waiting around last night.

CJ: You're welcome.

At 8:30, I received an angry call.

CJ: Good morning, Moron Industries, Shaun speaking.

SP: (snottily) Hello Shaun, this is Frieda from Snailspace. Our driver was there at 5:15pm last night and at 7:10 this morning to pick up a package and was told it wasn't ready. And he was there twice yesterday and was told both times the package wasn't ready. We'd appreciate it if you didn't waste our time!

CJ: Well, Frieda, I'm glad you called. While it's true that your driver left empty-handed once yesterday, he has not been back since.

SP: Well, that's not what my driver is telling me.

CJ: My dear, your driver is full of shit, to put it bluntly. I myself waited here until quarter to six last night, and was here at 7 this morning. I have not seen any of your drivers, and the parts were picked up by Jimbob from Turnip Brothers himself at ten after seven this morning. Feel free to call Jim, he'll corroborate my story.

SP: I beg your pardon? Turnip picked up?

CJ: Yes. He couldn't wait for the parts, so he came down himself to pick them up. In fact, he was here from 7:10 til 7:30 this morning, around the time you driver claims to have been here...

SP: I see. I'll have to call you back. (click)

Jim beat her to the punch, however...

CJ: Good morning, Moron Industries, Shaun speaking.

JB: Hi Shaun, this is Jimbob at Turnip Brothers.

CJ: Ah, talked to Frieda, did you..?

JB: Yeah, I set her straight. I apologize if I snapped at you yesterday.

CJ: No problem, matey. How could you have known?

JB: True, but I'll be dealing with another courier company from here on in.

CJ: Oh?

JB: Yes, if they're going to lie to me outright, and then try to charge me for pickup attempts they've never made, I'm done with them.

CJ: Well, in their defense, I don't think it's them per se, just one of their drivers.

JB: Maybe, but I can't afford to risk any more situations like this. This could have cost us big.

CJ: If I can be of any help, please let me know...

JB: Will do.

(to be concluded)

A Tale of Entitlement (Part Two)

2011-11-18T08:00:00.000-06:00

Part One is here

The following is a true story I just made up.

Needless to say, Supertanker Steve was not impressed. "What's the point of putting it out if we can't drink any?" he bellowed.

Our head shipper delivered his carefully rehearsed line, "That coffee is there as a courtesy to everyone, not just you. You can have a cup, but don't be filling that bloody supertanker up here!"

"Fuck, you guys are a bunch of cheap fucks!" was Steve's well-reasoned response, "You can't afford a couple of pots of coffee?!"

He stormed out, forgetting his customer's package.

An hour later, I got an angry call from my customer. Bear in mind I have no idea what has transpired.

CJ: Good afternoon, Moron Industries (fictional). Shaun speaking, how may I help you?

Cust: Where the Hell are my parts?

CJ: Who's speaking?

Cust: Jimbob at Turnip Brothers. <--- fictional

CJ: Oh! Your order was ready... I know Snailspace was here, I saw Steve at the counter.

Cust: That's bullshit. He said the order wasn't ready when he was there!

CJ: That's odd. I'll find out and I'll call you back.

So, I walked across the building to our shipping department, to speak with the head shipper. He told me what happened. I patted him on the back, and phoned the customer to let him know.

CJ: Hi JB, It's Shaun. I've gotten to the bottom of things. Looks like your courier was here, but forgot your box. Did you want to call him back, or shall we ship it out to you on our courier?

Cust: He told me it wasn't ready.

CJ: Well, our shipper assures me it was, and he's a straight-up kinda guy. But, it's a "he-said, she-said" situation. What would you like us to do?

Cust: I'll see if I can get him back.

This was at 1pm. At 4pm, Jimbob called back.

Cust: What the Hell is wrong with you guys? My driver was there AGAIN and said the order wasn't ready! I need those parts!

CJ: That's not right. I saw the box sitting there with my own two eyes. Something's wrong. I'll get Shipping on the line.

Doug: Shipping, Doug speaking.

CJ: Hi Dougie. I have Jimbob from Turnip Brothers on the line with us. He's saying that Snailspace was by to pick up the box that they forgot the first time around, and were told it wasn't ready. He's very upset.

Cust: I NEED THOSE GOD-DAMNED PARTS! I HAVE A MACHINE THAT HAS TO LEAVE IN THE MORNING!

Doug: I've been back here all afternoon, and I haven't seen hide-nor-hair of Snailspace. He's never been back!

CJ: And you're absolutely sure of this? Maybe they sent another driver? Did you take a bathroom break or anything?

Doug: No, I haven't left my area, and nobody from Snailspace or Turnip Brothers have been here.

CJ: Well, Jim, I suggest you give Snailspace a call. If they're coming back today, tell the driver to ask for me. The box will be on my desk in the office. There will be no mistakes or "he-said, she-said".

Five o'clock rolled around. "Ahhh, Closing time," I thought. Looking at my desk, I noticed Snailspace hadn't picked up. I gave their office a quick call and got their machine. Hmmm.

AM: Thank you for calling Snailspace Courier Express Winnipeg. Our office is currently closed. Please call back between the hours of 7:30 am and 4pm, Monday to Friday. Thank you for calling Snailspace. (click).

Crap. I'd hoped they'd have an emergency or afterhours line. So, I gave the customer a call, and got HIS machine. I left him a message:

CJ: Hi JB, It's Shaun at Moron Industries. It's currently 5pm on Thursday, and I haven't seen your courier. I'll stick around for another half hour just in case he's running late, but I'd be prepared to give them a nasty call in the morning. If you get this in the next few minutes, give me a call on my cell at ###-#### and I can drop the box off to you on my way home.

I ended up waiting until quarter to six, and nothing. I prepared myself for the angry phone call in the morning.

(to be continued)

Packed In Mustard Sauce

2011-11-17T08:50:00.001-06:00

Jillian and I bought a car back in June.

Up until then, the bus was our primary mode of transportation. As a result, our errands (etc) had been eating far too much of our precious time, and the bus commute to her job was a 2.5 hour affair... if she was lucky enough to connect with the once-an-hour bus downtown (the only bus that got her anywhere near her job).

Which, as it turned out, was a big if. Taking either of the three downtown buses from our area, Jill had a 3-4 minute window to connect with that bus... and it never failed: there would always be a traffic snarl on the way downtown, or a construction holdup, or passenger needlessly taking up the driver's time. Taking an earlier bus downtown meant waiting outside, in the dark and cold, for 45 minutes because nothing was open at 6:30 am. At least twice a week, Jill ended up having to take a cab from downtown in order to make it to work on time.

My own commute was relatively worry-free. I used to take the #77 from Leila and Salter to my job in St. James. It was great, only had to take one bus! Problem is, it took a bloody HOUR as it wound its way through the Maples, Tyndall Park, Keewatin, and the Logan Industrial Park. On a clear summer day. If Red River College was in session, the bus would be packed by the time I got on. Which typically meant standing for the entire hour. If it happened to be during the seven months we're covered in snow, transit time was that much longer due to road conditions.

I figured I'd find a better way, and started taking the #32 Express bus downtown, then catching a #19 Red River bus. Took roughly an hour, and the ride downtown was great. I'd get off at Main and McDermot, walk half a block to the stop at Main and Lombard, and catch a mostly empty #19. A fair amount of people would get on at MEC, a fairer amount at Portage Place, and a fairer amount around the corner on Vaughan. By the time we left the Vaughan stop, the bus was packed. Packed like sardines in mustard sauce. More and more people would get on as we travelled up Notre Dame, and since I was one of the first people on the bus... I'd be in my window seat, trapped like a rat. Getting off at my stop on Dublin and Notre Dame meant first fighting past my seatmate, then the throng of people (and their backpacks) in the aisle. More than once, the driver would pull away from the stop before I'd made it to the door... at which point he would angrily pull over to let me out. Which was usually followed by an angry look as though it were my fault. Sitting in one of the sideways, aisle-facing seats usually ended in me giving up my seat to the infirm, elderly, expectant mothers, or baby carriages.

The trip home was almost as bad, replacing the college kids with drunks, loudmouth ignorami, twice the baby carriages, and kids who've listened to far too much rap.

This was my daily routine for over fifteen years (since 1996). Suffice it to say, I didn't put up a fight when Jillian suggested we look into buying a car. I've done my part for the environment.

Like many other longtime transit riders, I put up with fare increase after fare increase as a necessary evil. After all, something had to pay for service improvements like those cold glass boxes they optimistically refer to as "shelters", those new-fangled, low-riding "kneeling buses" that helped clog the bus aisles with baby carriages, yellow strips that the lower-functioning riders have no idea how to use, and nice new digital displays at major stops to tell you exactly how late your bus is. Now that's progress!

As cynical as that sounded, at least we knew we were getting something out of the deal.

Now I hear bus fares will be increased, after no consultation, another 25 cents a ride. But this time, the increased revenue will be not be used to fund improvements to the existing system. Rather, it will fund eventual rapid transit improvements that will not, in all likelihood, be finished in the remaining twenty years until I retire.

So glad we bought that car.

Free From Outside Influence

2011-11-16T08:43:00.001-06:00

Most of my readers know I'm an "ideas man".

I typically have eight- or nine-hundred outlines, plans, plots, designs, schemes, and hare-brained ideas in my head (or in various stages of implementation) at any given time. Some good (remodelling my house, garage, website), some... not (never completed my microwave gun or catapult). A friend once remarked, "If you want to make a million bucks, grab the crumpled papers in Wheeler's trash!".

The problem I have is that I have far too many ideas for one man to (realistically) bring to reality. What's useful? What will work? What will sell? Has someone else already done it (and better)? What's the estimated kill ratio? And how to prioritize?

Usually, while I'm busy procrastinating, someone else comes up with exactly the same thing I'd dreamed up previously and makes it work... and sometimes it works well. Which serves as a bit of vindication, by and large, but it's still a metaphoric kick in the nuts. But enough whining, that's my problem to sort out.

On rare occasions, I'm inspired by something others are doing, and see a way I can expand upon it in my own particular way.

As an example, I was inspired by David Driedger's recent post on his blog The LAngside Times. The idea of a "Five Minute Walk" in my own neighbourhood was especially appealing, what with my predilection for long walks (on and off the beach), and I thought I could combine that with my interests in photography, obsolete technology, and cartography... similar to what I did on a previous excursion.

Another example would be Cherenkov's recent post regarding scoop.it. For those of you not in the know, scoop.it is an online "magazine creator", basically the bastard offspring of a blogging client, social media site, web-crawler, and rss reader. As I have mentioned before, my original career aspiration was that of a layout/paste-up artist in the publishing industry, so you can well imagine my initial pants-filling excitement upon seeing scoop.it for the first time.

The excitement was short-lived, however. After starting an account and fooling with it for a bit, the experience struck me as rather pointless... it was basically a prettied-up rss reader! For those of us who already have blogs, it seemed rather redundant. Until...

An idea hit me. Why not combine the two ideas (the Five Minute Walk and scoop.it)? Yeah, start an online magazine dedicated to Five Minute Walks, starting with a few interested "takers" in Winnipeg, then perhaps branching out nationally or internationally..?

(scratches chin) Hmmmmm...

Think it'd work?

Kildonan Park and Philosophy

2011-11-06T20:44:00.003-06:00

CJ's note: the following post was originally written 11/26/2009. I found it in this blog's DRAFTS folder this evening while migrating posts from my other blog. It amused me to read it, and I felt it deserved to be published... with a present-day postscript.

The weather's been nice this last week, hasn't it, folks?

Despite the fact I'm champing at the bit to go ice skating on the Red River (hurry up and snow, God damn it!), I've been taking advantage of the beautiful Autumn weather.

Late last week, my most recent ex-girlfriend and I grabbed a coffee after work, then went for a walk through Kildonan Park. It's been a couple of weeks since we went our separate ways, and after a cooling off period, we decided to remain friends. During our walk, we talked about the usual stuff - work, cats, travel, etc - and cracked a few jokes about the state of society in general. She's good that way.

Somewhere around the Witches' Hut the conversation took an interesting turn.

"Shaun," she asked, "What do you want out of life?"

Without hesitation, I answered, "A roof over my head, food on the table, and clean drinking water."

Somewhat taken aback, she asked, "That's it?"

"Well," I added, "adequate sanitation facilities would be nice."

"Again," she asked again, "is that it, Mr. Kaczynski?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I laughed, "maybe room to write my Manifesto, but after that, everything else is gravy."

"Seriously, that's it?" she asked, "Nothing else?"

"Well, you won't leave your husband, so what else would I want?" I quizzed.

"I don't know," she said, "World peace? An end to sectarian violence? Rapid transit?"

"You asked me what I wanted out of life," I clarified, "not what I'd wish for if the 'Djinni of the Lamp' granted me three wishes."

"Fair enough," she surrendered, "but let me rephrase: above and beyond your basic human rights, what would you want in life?"

"That's better!" I laughed, "But to be honest, there's not a lot I really want from life."

"Why not?" she asked

"I don't know," I replied, "I guess I just don't have any real need for anything else, so I've never really thought about it. I mean, I can grab a coffee when I want, take a walk through the park, the Forks, or the Exchange when I want. Hell, give me peace, quiet, a drink, and a cigar and I'm happy."

"Hmmm," she hummed, "I'm starting to realize why you're 36 and single."

"Which is it?" I laughingly inquired, "The smoking or the drinking?"

"It's the I, I, I, I, I, me, me, me, me," she replied, "You seem to value your freedom above all else."

"Huh?" I said, stopping dead in my tracks.

"Think about what you just said," she explained, "You basically said 'that you're happy because you can do whatever you want whenever you want', didn't you?

"Shit," I said, stunned, "I did say that, didn't I?"

"In a nutshell, yes," she smiled, "and at the back of your mind, you think getting married would put an end to that, don't you?"

"You're close," I said, impressed, "but you're off on one part of the equation."

"Which part is that?" she asked, giving me that 'you're not weaselling out of this one' look.

"That reasoning isn't at the back of my mind," I retorted, "but at the forefront!"

The preceding exchange happened in sometime in early November 2009, and was transcribed on 11/26/2009. I never finished it, and the remaining bits of the conversation are lost to time. But I do know how it ended. She told me I'd never be truly happy until I dropped the me, me, me attitude. I told her I was fighting fire with fire, happily pointing out that she was married the whole time we were dating (which is a tad selfish as well), and that my previous relationship ended when the girl described me as a "work-in-progress" to her girlfriends at a hen-party held in my own house. I was so tired of women trying to mold me into what they wanted, that I decided to remain "selfishly single" from there on in.

Here we are, two years later, and everything has changed. But let's back up a year.

I'd spent 2010 largely single. I'd made a few dates here and there, but nobody held my interest for long. I'd happily accepted the probability that I'd be single for the rest of my life.

But, as always, it didn't turn out that way.

In September, an estranged friend had become single. We'd been chatting (and reconnecting) on Facebook, our blogs, and MSN for a few months, and when news broke about their break up, I messaged her to make sure she was alright. She was.

We'd continued chatting over the next month, and eventually agreed to meet for coffee for the first time in eight years. She was a Girl Guide leader, and they were on their cookie drive... so I asked her to put me down for three or four boxes. We met for coffee at Polo Park that fateful night, under the pretext of selling me cookies, and ended up chatting for hours.

It had been great seeing her. We agreed that we should do this more often, and we parted ways.

We chatted for a bit on Facebook afterwards, and a half hour in, she pulled the rug out from under me... by asking me out.

Jillian and I went for our first date (to see Avatar at Imax) in early November, had a whirlwind romance, and on December 23rd, 2010, I proposed. She said YES.

We moved her into my house shortly after Christmas.

It's now a year later, and things couldn't be better. Wedding plans are humming along (six more months!), the household is shaping up, we've renewed our faith in God, and we make each other happy (and other people sick).

If you were to ask me two years ago if I'd ever thought I'd be engaged to be married, I probably would have snickered. It'd never happen. Never in a million years!

So, to my unnamed ex-girlfriend in the first conversation, I say this:

You were right.

Jillian and CJ, Remembrance Day 2010

Drinking a C&S While Editing C&S

2011-11-06T17:00:00.001-06:00

Now that Autumn is upon us and winter lurking in the nearby shadows, Jillian and I will be spending a lot more time at home.

This is great for a couple of reasons, most of which are irrelevant to this entry. Chiefly, it means we'll be spending more time making meals at home rather than dining out... we both like to fool around in the kitchen (and we like to cook, too). She's a good cook, and like me is prone to experimenting and tinkering with recipes.

As too many cooks spoil the soup, I've decided to leave the majority of the culinary artistry to her... so that I can concentrate on my one true passion: booze.

It has been a long time since I've written about my experiments with mixed drinks and, truth told, I rather miss it. So today, as we prepared to do the dishes, I walked over to the liquor cabinet so that I could fix myself a drink.

You may find this hard to believe, but I enjoy doing the dishes. When I was single, it was how I relaxed. Every Sunday afternoon shortly before 2pm, I'd fix myself a drink, then fire Nadia up so I could listen to my favourite internet radio show, Pepperland Spicerack, on Luxuriamusic.com. I'd sit there for a couple of hours, washing my dishes and enjoying some good tunes while sipping whatever concoction I'd mixed.

Usually, that concoction would be one of a few standbys: French-style Pernod (1oz Pernod, 4oz water [or to taste]), my secret Martini recipe, a Vermouth Cassis, a Sazerac, or more often than not, a Campari & Soda. Social drinks, not the "wake-up-in-the-bathtub-with-a-black-eye-your-pants-on-backwards-and-your-shoes-on-the-wrong-feet-despite-having-drank-alone" variety.

Today, I decided on Campari & Soda... and today, I'm going to tell you how I make it.

First, a disclaimer: Campari isn't for everyone. It is the epitome of an acquired taste (much like Punt e Mes). It's a bitter herbal liquer that has a rather "floral" flavour. Upon sampling my drink at a company outing one year, my friend Darrin described Campari's flavour as "licking a Wizard air freshener". Which I thought was harsh... potpourri perhaps, but Wizard air freshener? Come on...

Anyway, if you've never tried Campari before, you may want to use a bit more soda and a bit less Campari, at least until you get used to it (usually around the third glass). The bitter taste will make some of you cringe.

Second, use fresh soda water. I have a soda siphon (aka seltzer bottle) and make my own seltzer water using Brita-filtered tap water and CO₂ cartridges... this really is the best method (and the used cartridges can be recycled with gunpowder as explosive warheads for model rockets, if those horribly spelled textfiles I got from an obscure gopher site are to be believed!). If you'd rather not bother with making your ownsoda water, you can always buy it. It's usually with the bottled water at the store and dirt cheap. Try to use Sparkling Water over Club Soda if you can, and use a fresh bottle... flat Club Soda or Sparking Water will kill a cocktail.

Third, and I can't stress this enough, do not use ice. Ice will dilute the flavour. The trick is to use a pre-chilled highball glass to keep your drink cool. If you really must use ice, cut back proportionally on the amount of soda water you use. In fact, I'd recommend this approach to all mixed drinks.

Got all that? Good. Here's the ratio I prefer.

Pour 4oz Campari into your pre-chilled highball glass.
Fill the rest with soda water/seltzer.
Garnish with a slice of lemon, lime, or orange.

Simple, no?

It'll take time to find a ratio you like, In Europe, they prefer a stronger mix, and in the US they seem to prefer a weaker mix and frequently use ice. If you like it, you may also want to try adding a dash of gin, orange flower water, and/or a couple of drops of Angostura Bitters to your drink... it really adds that je ne sais quoi.

Campari is (was?) also available in Europe in bottled form as "Campari Soda", using a rather iconic bottle. I have had the pleasure of drinking a bottled Campari Soda years ago and loved it. I still have one unopened bottle kicking around... if I can find it, I'll post a picture.

The above picture shows the finished product, a third of a bottle of Campari, and my soda siphon, along with a green bowl full of orange mush.

"What is that orange mush, Mr. Jerk?" you may ask.

I hear you ask. That, my friends, is a failed experiment.

Jillian, her mom, and I were in Gimli several times this past summer, and on one occasion we went to the "fancy" restaurant (whose name escapes me... Beachcomber?) in the resort. One of the dessert specials was a bowl of orange sorbet with an ounce of Campari drizzled over top.

Now, CJ likes his Campari as well as his sorbet, so of course this intrigued me. Unfortunately for me, I was on antibiotics and couldn't have any alcohol... so I committed this dessert to memory.

A couple of weeks ago, while I was battling a wicked cold, Jillian brought me a tub of orange sherbet to soothe my throat. I'd had a bit, but I made sure to save some of the sherbet so that I could make this dessert once I was off my cough medicine.

Today, while I was making myself a drink, I decided to make the dessert. My friends, I suffer so you don't have to.

Today I learned something the hard way... SHERBET AND SORBET ARE NOT THE SAME THING!

Sorbet, like Italian Ice, is made of frozen water and fruit. Sherbet is made of fruit and ice milk.

It tasted alright... at first. The flavour was nice, the sweet orange taste of the sherbet provided a nice counterbalance to the bitterness of the (straight) Campari. But the flavour got more and more muddled as the sherbet melted... ultimately tasting of lead. It was rather disgusting. I thought the milk was curdling right before my eyes!

Suffice it to say, I won't be doing that again. I will however try to find some real sorbet to see if I can make this work.

Wish me luck!

Oh, The Places I've Been...

2011-11-05T11:26:00.001-05:00

So, I went for a little stroll today...

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Pictured above: My idea of "a little stroll". Zoom in and pan around!

Truth told, I didn't walk the whole time... I took the #17 McGregor bus from the corner of Partridge and McGregor to McDermot and Adelaide.

The whole point of this excursion was to take a stroll with my GPS, snap a few pictures, have breakfast at Sal's sur L'Esplanade, and spend the rest of the day on the computer, putting together a humourous "Family Circus" follow-the-dotted-line map... well, as humorous as downtown Winnipeg can be at 7am on a Saturday (which is to say "not very").

Less humourous was the fact my bloody camera crapped out a few minutes in. But, the show must go on, so I made sure my GPS was working and continued on my way.

I meandered through the Exchange district, north to the edge of Chinatown, east to Main St to avoid a drugged-up belligerent, down Main and back into the Exchange. When I was done there, I headed to Portage Ave, up Fort to Graham, up Graham and across Main, the to the Forks.

I'd planned to stop at Sal's for breakfast and got there right on time for the doors to open at 8am... only to find they've changed their hours of operation a few weeks ago, and thus wouldn't open til 9am. I thought to myself, "I'm not waiting another hour!" and continued on to the Forks proper.

After wandering the Forks for a bit, I headed towards Canwest Global Park. From there, I headed along Waterfront Drive to Juba Park (where I saw a couple of artists and a group of joggers), and spent a bit of time relaxing there before heading back downtown.

All-in-all, it was a fun excursion, and I'm especially glad that my GPS recorded the entire thing (more on how in a later post). I wanted to see if the taller buildings downtown would affect the GPS' satellite signal reception, but thankfully it worked like a charm.

I'm planning to take a stroll through Kildonan Park with Jillian tomorrow, and I'll be sure to bring the GPS and a working camera to record our hijinks... and we'll put our heads together to piece together that Family Circus homage.

So, I've returned to Blogger for good.

I've had it with Tripod's trademark "tits-on-a-bull" blog engine. It requires too much in the way of HTML editing to do anything useful, whereas Blogger's engine is (almost) idiot-proof (and I'll finally be able to moblog from my smartphone!). So on Blogger I will stay... insofar as blogging is concerned. All my creative works will still be housed at the main site at www.conceitedjerk.com.

Please update your feed-readers and blogrolls so you don't miss any of my pointless crap.

I've migrated the previous years' worth of the aforementioned crap from the Tripod blog over to this one, and they pick up where I left off after my previous final post back in May 2010. These posts (thirty in total) will be prefaced with "migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/11".

It'll be like I never left!

Who Says You Can't Go Home Again..?

2011-11-05T10:30:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Pulled the plug.

I'm tired of fighting with Tripod's blog engine, so I've moved the whole she-bang back to my "old" blog on Blogger.

Please update your RSS feeders, links and blogrolls.

My blog's relationship with Tripod is not unlike the lives of some of my friends.

Theylived under their parents' roof until they spread their wings and flewaway. Sometimes things got a little too difficult, or perhaps theywere lonely, and they ended up moving back home.

Eventually, theyfound the environment safe and familiar, but ultimately stifling andlacking in real freedom... so they left home again, usually for good.

Andthat's how I feel about Tripod's blog engine. I liked the familiaritywith Tripod and the fact I could have everything under one roof, butBlogger offered me a real chance to take things to the next level, soto speak. So I spread my tiny wings and flew away...

... only to return a few years later. I'd planned to bring everything back under one roof,but found the lack of features in Tripod's blog engine (specificallyembedding objects and mail-to-blog) unforgivably stifling andrestrictive.
I tried their other website building options, whichpromised point-and-click building of websites, but I didn't find themsatisfactory. So this morning, I decided to pack my bag(gage) up andhead on back to Blogger.

The blog will probably remain there forgood... unless I finally install Wordpress on my 1993-vintageSparcstation IPX and sign up for co-location somewhere.

A Tale of Entitlement (part one)

2011-10-21T07:52:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

It's ten minutes 'til showtime.

As I sit at my desk, sipping my morning coffee, I'm reminded of a story.

So gather ye round, brothers and sisters, and I will spin for you a tale of entitlement.

The following is a true story I just made up.

Ourbusiness moved to a new (bigger) location last year, after spending theprevious couple of years in a perpetual state of overcrowding. Asbusiness grew, so did our inventory, and we soon saw the need forbigger premises.

After several months of hunting, the bossdecided on a building... right across the lane from our currentlocation. In addition to being roughly twice the size of our currentlocation, it was also located on the front street.

Location, Location, Location

Beingon a fairly high-traffic street, we predicted (correctly, as it turnedout) our foot traffic/walk-in business would explode. Thus, plans weremade to increase the size of our showroom and counter sales area.

Aswe pride ourselves on making hoses et cetera "While You Wait", wedecided to add a waiting area to the showroom, complete with comfyleather seats and a coffee pot.

Remembering the hassle it was tomonitor and maintain the coffee maker in the showroom at our previouslocation, we decided to sign up with a coffee service. They wouldprovide us with an industrial coffeemaker and several urns, as well asdelivering fresh coffee, sugar, and creamer every week. All we had todo was make the coffee.

We placed an urn in our showroom/waiting area for customers, and one on the warehouse manager's desk fror staff.

Thisarrangement worked well for the most part, but a couple of weeks later,our head shipper asked if he could have an urn in the shipping/pickuparea, so courier drivers and customers could have a cup.

This is where our story begins.

Thecoffee service was a hit, especially during the colder months. Thestaff (myself included) loved it, as did our customers (especially theHutterites).

But it really took off with the couriers. I canappreciate what they do, and know it can be a bit of a hassle to stopfor coffee when you're under the gun because of demanding customers(God forbid anyone should have to wait for anything these days). But there are limits.

Mostof the couriers were great. They'd grab a cup and go. The odd onewould fill his travel mug. But one driver stood out among the pack.

We call him Supertanker Steve.

"Steve"worked for a courier company contracted by one of our customers. Hewas a nice enough guy, but could be a tad impatient and ornery at times.
Steve,as it turned out, had a nasty habit of filling his travel mug full ofcoffee whenever he visited. This wasn't your average sized mug,either... it was one of those "Coffee Junkie" mugs that looked like itheld at least a litre's worth!

One day, as I was heading out backto drop off a stack of orders to be filled, I ran into our headshipper... he was carrying his coffee urn and looked decidedly pissedoff.

CJ: Hi Dougie, what's up? You don't look too happy.

Doug: Mraugh! Gotta fill the coffee up again.

CJ: Shit, it's only ten o'clock. Are you thirsty or just tired?

Doug: It's that fucking Steve again.

CJ: Steve?

Doug: That driver for "Snailspace Express" <--- fictional

CJ: What's he done?

Doug: He filled up his bloody big mug again.

CJ: What, like a travel mug?

Doug: It's one of those really big ones.

CJ: Oh, like those big ones that hold a litre or so?

Doug: Yeah.

CJ: That's pretty ignorant. Does he do that often?

Doug: Nearly everytime he's here.

CJ: Wow.

Doug: The shitty thing is, he wasn't even picking anything up here today!

CJ: WHAT?! So he was just here helping himself to some free coffee?!

Doug: Says it's cheaper than Horton's. (CJ's Note: There's a Tim Horton's location in our parking lot)

CJ: That's pretty fucking selfish. The coffee is there as a courtesy toall our couriers and customers, not solely for him. Next time, cut himoff at one regular sized cup.

Doug: *sigh* I'll try...

To be continued...

WIP it, WIP it good.

2011-10-18T09:44:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Preparations for Conceited Jerk Dot Com's Tenth Anniversary celebrations are coming along, albeit rather slowly.

Withjust under three months to go, I've been busy archiving old contentfrom my various machines, and have managed to track down 80% of the oldstuff. The rest is lost to time (even archive.org couldn't help!)...

Thereal stumbling block is presentation. It's no secret that I'm tired ofTripod's Blog Builder and its lack of features, and I have been equallydisappointed with their other offerings such as the recentlydiscontinued Webon and their new app "Zeeblio" - which would workinsofar as creating a cohesive layout, but would eliminate the abilityto comment directly on a post.

I've debated returning to Blogger, andhave also considered running Wordpress, but there's apparently someissue running WP on Tripod's servers.

Soooooo... I'm gonna tryredesigning the blog portions of my site using Joomla, failing that, Imay have to bone up on my HTML and CSS and do things the old fashionedway, or it's back to Blogger I go.

As an aside, if you ever goto A&W, don't try to order a "Thirteenth-Cousin-Twice-RemovedBurger". They'll just look at you funny. Ditto for asking how farback in the Burger Family Tree they go.

Blog Action Day: I Was Hungry, and You Fed Me.

2011-10-16T11:53:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

It's that time of the year where bloggers of all stripes write abouta common theme in an attempt to raise awareness for a given topic.

Yes, it's Blog Action Day, and this year's topic is FOOD.

Food. That which sustains us.

AsI've mentioned once or twice, I've been attending church faithfully forthe last few months. I've thoroughly enjoyed the experience, anddecided once and for all to join the church permanently... I startedRCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) classes two weeks ago,and am on my way to becoming a full-fledged Catholic.

This has come as a bit of a shock to a number of people, particularily people who "thought they knew me".

Iwas asked a number of similar questions: "You're an intelligent,logical guy who studied history, science, and human behaviour. How canyou believe a bunch of man-made hooey like religion?", "Man made God,not the other way around. How can you let yourself be brainwashed by abunch of drooling zealots?", and so forth.

Actually, it's because I studied these things that I turned to God.

I've spent the last twenty years, since I graduated High School, trying to find my place in the world. To find the answers.

I'veread books, attended classes, lectures and talks, watched programs andvideos on many different subjects (history, humanities, psychology,sociology, "life science", etc), trying to find the whys and whereforesof the great mystery called Life.

Even after making a right pig of myself at the all-you-can eat buffet of knowledge, I was still left hungry.

I'd try to stave off the hunger by having a few snacks here and there, but it didn't stave it off for long.

Aftertwenty years of searching, I'd found no satisfaction in material goods,money, or relative success any more than I found in my studies.

ThenI met Jillian for the first time since 2002. We reconnected, fell inlove, and got engaged shortly before Christmas last year. We oftentalked about starting a family, and decided that we'd want to raise thekids with some sort of faith.

I was game, so we made it a pointto attend Mass at a nearby Catholic church (St. Anthony of Padua onBurrin Ave), Jill having been Catholic herself.

After hearing thepastor's homily, I realized I wasn't hungry anymore, despite onlyhaving had an appetizer. So we returned the following Sunday... andthe next... and the next, feeding my soul little by little, and gettingto know (and genuinely care about) a few people in our community.

Here we are, nearly eight months later, and I am only too happy to say I'm no longer hungry.

Now that I'm well-fed, I've decided to learn the recipes, so that I may help to feed others.

Let me tell you a story.

Oneafternoon this summer, as I was heading home from work, a panhandlercame up to me and asked for change. He was a short aboriginal man,kind of rough looking (and a tad smelly to be honest). I told him in apolite but ultimately firm voice that I had no change... (I did havechange in reality, but I'd be damned if this smelly bum was getting anyof it!).

He looked at me with sad eyes and said, "Oh. I'm kind of hungry, eh?" before walking away.

"Oh yeah," I thought, "Here comes the guilt trip."

Then my bus came, and I mistakenly thought I'd seen the last of this guy.
That is, until he came to me in a half-dream that night.

I was lying in bed, not quite asleep but not quite awake, when the smelly bastard appeared to me in my head.

Hewas standing in front of me as he had earlier, with those same sadeyes... but something was different. He was slowly changing.

Hisscruffy beard slowly started to thicken and he started to transformbefore my eyes... the stubble and dirt on his cheeks started todisappear and his hair began to untangle itself... his appearancetransformed completely, going from filthy to immaculate, all the whilestaring at me with those sad, sad eyes.

I looked away in disbelief, and when I looked back, this smelly bum with the sad eyes had transformed into Jesus.

The Son of God was standing before me, looking upon me with those same sad eyes.

Iwoke up immediately, feeling a greater sorrow that I've ever felt in mylife. The dream seemed to be a stark reminder that Christ is in all ofus... I felt like I'd failed Jesus by failing my fellow man.

The dream has haunted me since.

A few days later, I had another dream.

Thistime, Jillian and I were house sitting for our good friends Larry andSusan. They'd had the good fortune to win a contest, and were able totake their children on a trip.

On a particularily wet and coldday, I was in their kitchen grabbing a glass of water when I heard arustling noise out their back door.

I looked down and, at thefoot of the door, was a wet black growling mass of black and brown fur,wailing and gnashing its teeth. Its fur was standing on end, and itlooked rail thin... it was writhing around and was in such a state thatI couldn't tell what sort of animal it was.

I opened the door to let it in, but the animal wouldn't come in out of the rain and cold.

Takingpity on the poor thing, I grabbed a plate from the kitchen and took alarge honey-garlic bratwurst I'd been saving out of the fridge. I setthe plate before the beast, and it immediately gobbled the sausage up.

Then,right before my eyes, the beast started to transform before my eyes,slowly drying out and growing fatter, until it turned into the mostbeautiful black Doberman pup I had ever seen.

It looked at me with these big soulful eyes... and said in a human voice, "I was hungry, and you fed me."

At which point I woke up.

Eversince I made the decision to convert to Catholicism, the name Wenceslashas been appearing to me all over the place... in books, music, even inwebcomics.

Wenceslaswas the Duke of Bohemia, known for his generosity to the poor andhungry. He was murdered by his brother Boleslaw, and is sincevenerated as a saint.

I've been seeing his name more and more,and took it (and my previous dreams) as a sign that I'm being called tobe more generous to my fellow man, perhaps even to help feed the poor.

AtEaster, when I've completed my RCIA program, I'll be Confirmed in thechurch, where we have the option of taking a Saint's name... I'll betaking the name of Wenceslas.

In a couple of years, once I've hada few lessons in the "kitchen" and learned all the "recipes", I intendto help feed my fellow man spiritually by joining the RCIA program asan instructor, and physically by donating and volunteering my time,love, and whatever money we can spare.

Project Status: Hilarious!

2011-09-29T14:18:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

I spent part of my lunch hour phoning various Winnipeg computerstores, in search of a particular item I need to help complete one ofmy projects...

Four out of five conversations went like this:

CSR: Good afternoon, (computer store), how may I help you?

CJ: Good afternoon, how are we doing today?

CSR, Not bad, thank you. What can I do for you?

CJ: Well, I'm looking for an IDE DVD-ROM drive.

CSR: Well, we really only carry the burners. Will that be alright?

CJ: Hmmm, it'll work, but I'm really only using it as a reader. What colours do you carry?

CSR: Colours?

CJ: Yeah, I'd prefer to have one that matches my case.

CSR: Oh, I get it. Sure, what colour were you after?

CJ: Aged beige.

CSR: Aged Beige?!

CJ: Yes sir.

CSR: Er, I think we have darkish-gray/black or white in stock.

CJ: White?

CSR: Yes sir.

CJ: By "white", are you talking about that typical computer whitish-beige?

CSR: I guess so. Is that not what you meant?

CJ: It's close, but no.

CSR: I've only ever seen these two colours, sir. In fact I've never even heard of "aged beige".

CJ: You knoooow... that sort of yellowy-beige colour that all beigecomputer parts become when left in the basement for an extended periodof time?

CSR: *click*

Computer store people have no sense of humour.

Autoresponder: Out of Office

2011-09-27T16:38:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Hello folks,

I'm taking a break from, well, everything until mid-November.

I've finallydecided to make some time for a few (real world, non-internet) projectsI have in the works, which will keep me tied up for the next month orso. I get to put my creative mind and design skills to good use in areal-world capacity, so I'm happy there!

In other news, I'veleft the Twitterverse. Tired of it rather quickly. The "important"people (and organizations) whose tweets I followed all have blogs orwebsites, so I'm not left out in the cold.

See you all after Remembrance Day.

PS: So... whattaya'll think of Art Deco?

Taste the Rainbow

2011-08-24T18:33:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Foodstuffs can lend themselves to fun.

Jillian and I headed to ourlocal Safeway on the way home from work today, in order to pick up allthe things we forgot to buy on our trip to Superstore on Monday.

Itnever fails. Despite both of us taking household organization to alevel the Third Reich would envy, and even with both of us keepingindividual lists of groceries, we still manage to forget 25% of thethings we went to the store to buy in the first place.

In ourcase, it's not such an ordeal. Most of the things we went to buy arehighly perishable goods (such as organic produce), which we really should be buying the day we intend to use it.

Jillgot me started on this whole organic thing and, despite not being thesort to hop on any particular bandwagon, after seeing positive resultsin my mood, I hopped on this particular bandwagon.

While we wereat the store, I thought about what I'd like for the rest of the week'slunches. I still had some back bacon left from Monday's excursion, afew tomatoes too, so I thought "Why not have BLTs for the next coupleof days?"

Why not?

I bought some nice French bread and some cheese to accompany, and set about making my own BLT...

I laughed out loud when I realized the acronym BLT would need to be changed...

Lettuce, Gouda, Bacon, and Tomato.

God help me, I've just made an LGBT Sandwich!!

Taste the Rainbow, indeed!

New Winnipeg Final Hurrah

2011-08-17T09:03:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Looks like the date and time are set for the New Winnipeg Final Hurrah.

Gabriel/Munchkinguy has informed us that it'll be held at the downtown Tavern United, this Saturday between 1-4pm.

If you're on Facebook, the event can be found here:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=175747359160914

Hope to see y'all there.

The Feverish Fixing of Nadia, and Fun with Bluetooth

2011-08-15T14:04:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

If you've been following my blogs for any amount of time, you'll have heard of Nadia. In fact, if you've been following me for any amount of time, you're probably sick of hearing about Nadia!

For those just joining in, Nadia (named after British porn actress Andrea Spinks' stage name) is my oft-broken, thrice-resurrected, 1999-vintage Powerbook G3 "Lombard". She's served as my main blogging/writing machine for years, and I've fixed/upgraded her so often I can field-strip her and reassemble her in my sleep.

Pictured: Andrea Spinks aka Nadia
Field-strip her..?! Mmmmmm...

Apart from keeping Nadia operational, my only challenge is keeping her useful in the daily-changing world of computers and the web. She works quite well, and I've only encountered a handful of problems using her on the "modern web".

Nadia runs Mac OS X 10.3.9, the last version supported without resorting to third-party installers like xpostfacto. This unfortunately limits me to running older versions of Firefox or its derivatives, or older versions of Safari, both of which have trouble rendering certain web pages. Facebook and Twitter are almost unuseable under these older browsers, but I have since discovered that the mobile versions of these sites work quite well... in fact, they work quite well on many of my older machines, even my ancient Powerbook 5300 running Netscape 4.8!

Another problem was slow loading of ad-laden webpages, but that was easily solved by using an ad-blocker plug-in for Firefox.

So, I was sitting in the living room yesterday morning, browsing eBay for some Lombard-compatible accessories... specifically a USB 1.1 Bluetooth adapter that I could use to sync Nadia to my Treo 650 smartphone. To my chagrin, there wasn't much available that would be supported under 10.3.9. I had a Belkin Bluetooth adapter from a previous laptop (the ill-fated iBludgeon) that I thought I might use, but Belkin's website stated that this particular model required OS X 10.4x and up.

After an hour of searching eBay and other Mac retailers online, I gave up. Looking at the Belkin adapter on my desk, I said "Fuck it!" and plugged it into Nadia.

Nadia's hard drive churned... and the Bluetooth icon appeared onscreen. Hmmm... I went into Bluetooth Preferences, checked for nearby devices, and it found my smartphone sitting across the room. Holy shit, it worked!

I spent the next hour poring over old Palm and Mac forum posts about syncing my Treo to a Mac running 10.3.9, and was rewarded with the ability to hotsync my phone to Nadia, exchange files (incl. MP3s) over Bluetooth, and even learned how to use my Treo as a (slllooowwww) wireless internet connection for my Mac.

"Shit," I figured, "if the Bluetooth module worked, why don't I try that 802.11g Cardbus wifi card I have in the lab?"

Why not? I plugged it into Nadia, and it was immediately recognized natively as an Airport Extreme card... which allowed for a faster connection (in laymans' terms).

Wow. Two for Two!

Also managed to locate Mac drivers so I could use Jill's HP printer/scanner/fax, but I'm getting bored so I'll move onto the fun part of the story.

Jimmy crack corn, and I don't care

So now I've been bitten by the blue-tail fly. Much like a kid with a new toy, I was keen to see what else I could do, what sort of mischief awaited a mischievious guy such as myself when armed with newfound knowledge and a Bluetooth-enabled smartphone.

Truth told, not much... at first. When Jill and I went out for breakfast & shopping, I was able to detect the cellphones and smartphones of people in the immediate vicinity. Most had their phones secured, but there were a couple of people who still had the default Bluetooth password set (which is "0000", btw). Wasn't able to do much poking around due to the dynamics involved in snooping while standing in line at Starbucks (it does look rather suspicious)... but I imagine I wouldn't be able to do much anyways, as most actions would have to be verified and accepted by the owner of the "target" phone.

Of course, I could research specific models of phones (like the LG520, which popped up a lot) for default passwords and security holes, but that sounds like it would require more effort than I'd care to expend on a once-in-a-blue-moon prank. Figuring it'd be more trouble than it was worth, I all but gave up on Bluetooth-related fun.

Well, the universe is a funny place. Jill and I headed home from our excursion, only to be held up by the 1pm northbound train on McGregor St. that passes through the neighbourhood each and every fucking Sunday. Having nothing better to do whilst caught in traffic, I whipped out my phone and did a quick Bluetooth scan.

Didn't find anything on the first try, but the second scan yielded a handfree car kit...
Just for the proverbial shits & giggles, I tried to "pair" my Treo to the other car's handsfree. Sure enough, the Treo prompted me for the device's password... I entered "0000" and was connected!
Hmmmm...

I knew I'd only be able to make a one-sided phone call at best, unless I wanted to shout into the other guy's car. So, I dialled the one number I knew that wouldn't require voice communication. Soon after, the number answered... the car's stereo muted, and over the car's speakers I heard:

Welcome to Telebus. The current time is 12:55PM. Please enter or say the five-digit stop number now.

Guy in car: What the fuck?!

(I enter 30215)

You have entered stop number 30215, Southbound McGregor at Belmont. For current times, press or say "One".

Guy in car: (desperately fumbles with his phone) WHAT THE FUCK?!

(I press One)

Here are your schedules for today. Route 17, McGregor. First bus is at 1:01PM to Misericordia Health Center, Second bus is at...

At this point, my fellow motorist is a bit stressed. He resorts to turning off his car completely to fix the problem. Rather than risk his ire, I hang up my phone and turn Bluetooth off.

Figuring that was enough OBEXploitation fun for one day, I put the phone back in its holster, and the train passed soon after... traffic resumed.

I have resolved to learn more about Bluetooth and exploiting OBEX... seems to have so many more practical applications/prank potential than simple WIFI sniffing...

(This story may or may not be entirely hypothetical.)

The Final New Winnipeg Meetup: One Last Kick at the Cat

2011-07-12T08:26:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Looks like we're gearing up for one last New Winnipeg Meetup!

NW member Munchkinguy emailed me the following this morning:

"I had hoped to organise a NewWinnipeg get-together in August, but NewWinnipeg seems to have closed down. I don't know how to contact a lot of people. I am trying to reach them but I don't know everyone's address."

So, let's get the ball rolling on this. If you're a former New Winnipeg member and/or moderator and would like to have one final get together to reminisce about the good ol' days, for closure purposes, to exact revenge, or just to have a few drinks, drop Munchkinguy or myself a line, so we can find a suitable venue.

I can be reached at conceitedjerk@AAARGH!!!netscape.net, and if you'd rather not deal with me,
Munchkinguy can be reached at munchkinguy@AAARGH!!!hotmail.com. (Remove the guttural screams from our email addresses to reply)

Also, if you have a blog of your own, please help spread the word to any other NW members. Once we nail down the details, we'll probably start a Facebook page for the event.

See Also: Anybody Want a Peanut

Goodbye, New Winnipeg

2011-07-10T20:30:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

So, after eleven years, the New Winnipeg community is gone. Dead. Bereft of life.

I joined the forum sometime between 2006-07 (under my longtime handle "conceitedjerk") to nurture my burgeoning interest in urbanism and rapid transit, and to learn. From the first moment, I was hooked.

At the time, the majority of my online discussions took place on the Usenet, which was like living in the Wild West... no central authority, general lawlessness, and prone to breaking out in shooting matches.

New Winnipeg was different... somewhat. Sure, there were disagreements (and heated exchanges), but unlike the Usenet, there was a central authority... the moderators. At New Winnipeg, the shooting matches were more like civilised duels, a gentlemanly pistols at dawn: the "Walk ten paces - turn - and fire" variety as opposed to the "Draw, pard'ner" variety of the Usenet.

As a former sysop of a BBS, I knew that the moderators had a thankless task... maintaining order while still allowing free reign of ideas, flow of discussion, and freedom of speech. Not an easy thing to do when discussing some of the most contentious issues facing the city (or country, or world).

Some of these issues were especially contentious, such as Rapid Transit (buses vs cars vs busways vs light rail vs subway), Cycling (drivers vs good cyclists vs bad cyclists vs pedestrians), Crime, Aboriginal issues, and most contentious of all... Winnipeg's North End.

There was never a shortage of opinion (good, bad, uninformed, or just plain fucked up) on any subject, and the mods did their best to keep us playing nice. Sometimes, however, the best isn't good enough.
A few years ago, and event occurred which I've referred to as The Schism.

A discussion got particularily heated. Words got ugly, names were called, feelings got hurt, mods got involved... the original discussion was forgotten, accusations were levelled at the forum's proprietor and his alleged multiple personalities, words got uglier, resulting in one of the more prolific (and popular) members receiving a ban from the forum.

As a result, a number of forum members went on "strike" in support of the banned member, and ultimately wound up starting their own forum... first on Google Groups, then onto a dedicated webforum called The Winnipeg Sandbox.

The number of people who left New Winnipeg to join the Sandbox (myself included) was small... but this small minority happened to be comprised of New Winnipeg's most prolific posters.

New Winnipeg weathered the storm for the most part, switching to a new forum software (phpBB) and loosening up the rules a bit more... but it was never really the same. People left, mods moved on or quit, and the relative torrent of posts from pre-Schism days had been reduced to a small stream at best, a trickle at worst.

Now, this downturn can't be attributed to the Schism completely... far from it. A number of forum members (and former members) shifted their focus to their own projects... many of us had our own blogs, some of us had regular columns/op-eds in real print media, and some even started radio shows. Many of the people in my blogroll were members of New Winnipeg at some point.

New Winnipeg limped along for a couple of years until it was finally shut down, a shadow of its former self.

I'm a bit sad to see New Winnipeg go.

I interacted with a number of people on the forum over the years, some of whom would end up being some of my closest friends... friends with whom I interact outside of the Internet! GASP! In real life and everything!

It was through New Winnipeg that I had some of the best moments of my life:

Being an Official Witness to The World's Longest Skating Chain (started by a discussion on NW)

Sharing a pizza downtown with a prominent local politician

Getting into a scrap with a guy downtown, only to find out two days later that it was one of my fellow NW members whom I respected. We had a good laugh over that one! (apparently I fight dirty)

Being courted by no less than four media organizations (some big, some small) to write material for them. (amounted to little - the money they offered sucked)

Having coffee with an up-and-coming Winnipeg musician who read my posts on NW and subsequently my blog.

And best of all, attending the New Winnipeg meet-ups and putting faces (and real names) to screen names.

My favourite was the (pre-Schism) meetup at Assiniboine Park!

It's too bad I missed the last meetup at the Tavern United a month or so ago... which turned out to be the LAST meetup ever.

Anyway, that's enough sentimentality for one morning.

Thank you to Alex Reid for starting New Winnipeg, the mods (past and present) for keeping it running, and all the posters who kept it interesting and entertaining.

And thanks to Grumpy Old Man, the former NW poster who started the Sandbox as an alternative to New Winnipeg. Hopefully now we can see a Reformation of sorts...

I'd like to invite any and all former New Winnipeg members and staff to share their favourite and/or most memorable New Winnipeg moments in the comments field below. I moderate all the comments, so keep it civil, eh?

Baby names, or how to ensure your kids will need therapy later on in life.

2011-06-29T15:20:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

As most of you know, Jillian and I are getting married next year.

Being the sort of people we are, we're already picking baby names for when the time comes... and being Catholic, we likely won't be stopping at one or two kids.

While picking names for the first four, I related an earlier story to Jill about a similar situation from a previous relationship...

About a decade ago, around the time I bought my house, my girlfriend at the time told me she was "possibly pregnant".

My reaction was an excited "Cool! Let's pick out names!" (when it should have been "Are you sure?" and "Is it mine?", but that's another story).

It caught her off-guard at first, but she soon got into the spirit of the occasion. She suggested a few names of a style that was en vogue (made-up Afro-American sounding names) which I immediately shot down. I suggested a few, named after my favourite writers.

CJ: I'd love to have a son named Orwell Machiavelli!
FB: Orwell Machiavelli?
CJ: Yeah, it just screams intrigue and guile!
FB: I don't think I'd want my child known for inspiring intrigue and guile.
CJ: Well, neither did my parents at first...
FB: I like TeShawn. It sounds nice.
CJ: Why? We're not (black)!
FB: Hmph! Well, how about something Biblical? Like...
CJ (interrupting): Yeah, like Goliath Samson!
FB: Goliath Samson?!
CJ: Yeah! And if it's a boy, I want to call him Lucifer Azrael!
FB (horrified): Oh my God! You would call our daughter Goliath Samson?
CJ: Well, if she inherits your looks...
FB: Hey!
CJ: (laughs uncontrollably)
The rest of the conversation is largely unrepeatable.

So, while I'd still like to have a child named Orwell Machiavelli or Goliath Samson, I somehow doubt Jill would even entertain the idea. We spent the better part of an evening talking about baby names, and this is what we came up with:

For boys, we liked "Shaun Ethan" (named for me and my cat), and "Raymond Lennon" (named after my dad and John Lennon). I briefly entertained the idea of changing it to Lenin, but I didn't think it'd go over well...

For girls, we liked "Rachel Leah" (after a young girl at Jillian's work who passed away), and Siobhan Aisling (pronounced ShiVONN AshLEEN) 'cause it sounds like a good Irish name (me being part Northern Irish).

We've batted a few more names around as well, such as Padraig, Sarah, Judith, Bastian (after Bastian Schweinsteiger), et cetera, but we'll worry about that when the time comes.

Introducing: Mobile CJ!

2011-06-23T20:34:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Remember this from last week?

Those of you with the ability to read QR codes may already know, but for those of you who don't, Conceited Jerk Dot Com now has a mobile version entitled Mobile CJ!

As part of my site's upcoming Tenth Anniversary (and because I was bored), I added a mobile portion to the mess that is my site. It will feature completely new content that will be completely separate from the main site. Chances are, it'll be designed, updated, and maintained on my Palm Treo 650 smartphone as an experiment in mobile web design (unlike the main site, which is updated and maintained by whichever computer is on my desk at the moment).

I'd been pissing around with Amaya on my Linux box, trying to design a mobile template that would be the essence of the mobile site... something sleek and modern looking, yet wholly functional. I've been visiting other mobile sites on my Treo, looking for ideas I could ~~steal~~ adopt, and I even turned to my usual design/architecture/art magazines for some sort of inspiration.

I came up with a few interesting ideas, but the end products were largely uninspiring. After wracking my brain for a couple of hours, I suddenly remembered something I'd said on Twitter at random this morning...

"I have a strong urge to design something using a seriously unsound design philosophy. More fun that way."

It hit me like the proverbial tonne of bricks...I did something back in '02 that was probably one of the most spontaneously dumb things I've ever done... I grabbed a sheet of looseleaf and drew a title/menu page for my site, scanned it, image-mapped it, and threw it onto the web as my Anti-Webpage, in defiance of the millions of sites online that put eye-candy ahead of content. It still gets comments to this day!

Based on that success (such as it was), I opted to retool the concept for the mobile web. Since my target audience would be mobile users, the page would have to be formatted for small screens. It wouldn't do to use a sheet of looseleaf for the design... no, I'd go with something more appropriate: I grabbed one of the multitude of little 2.5" X 4" coil notepads people keep giving me, tore a page out, grabbed a pen, and went to town.

What the Hell, it worked once!

I opted for pictorial menu selections instead of plain ol' words in the margin this time. Hopefully it's a bit more user-friendly.

We can rebuild him...we have the technology

2011-06-22T19:47:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

We had a Hell of a scare on Friday.

My 13-year old cat, Ethin, was lethargic. Now, Ethin isn't the most active cat to begin with (I swear, your average sloth is more mobile), but something was different with the way he was just lazing around. He seemed off.

Then I noticed that he wasn't eating.

If you've ever met Ethin, you'll know this is very unlike him. He will eat anything that even looks remotely edible (including, at one point, the quarter-round near his food dish) and come back for more.

I tried throughout the day to get him to eat, but he wouldn't eat much more than a few nibbles of dry food. We gave him his insulin at his regular time, and checked him a few hours later. His blood sugar was still pretty high, but not horribly so.

I told myself I'd get him to the vet first thing in the morning.

That changed pretty fast.

About an hour after taking his Insulin, Ethin started gagging. He projectile vomited (probably a good three feet!) all over the living room carpet, then collapsed. I rushed to pick him up, and the smell hit me... his vomit literally smelled like shit!

Now, it doesn't take a genius to know this is not a good sign, so I grabbed the phone book to find a vet (other than Pembina Animal Hospital) that was open at this hour (9pm).

I noticed Southglen Animal Hospital was open until midnight, and that they have NO emergency fee!
I called them up, they said they could squeeze Ethin in, so Jill and I fought to get Ethin into his carrier, then made the trip across town.

It was a good thing we went when we did.

The vet examined Ethin, and found that his blood sugar was pretty high. She recommended doing bloodwork on him, and we agreed. One Tim Hortons run later, we returned. The vet told us that his blood sugars were high, his ketones were through the roof, and his potassium levels were rock bottom. He was fighting off a severe infection (Ketonic Acetosis), and he'd need to be kept overnight and put on an IV to get his levels back to normal.

The vet called Saturday morning to say he was improving a bit, but his blood sugar was still really high, and he was still expelling ketones. They wanted to keep him another day to monitor him. We agreed.
Sunday morning, the vet called again, saying while he was doing much better, Ethin still wasn't quite ready to leave. We were invited to come visit him, and we jumped at the chance.

Ethin was very happy to see us, and seemed as though he really wanted to get out of there.
We spoke to the vet, and he detailed everything they'd done, and what they were watching. Ethin hadn't been expelling ketones in his urine since Saturday night, but they wanted to keep him one more night just to make sure his sugars were at an acceptable level.

We agreed, and he gave us a cost estimate. It was very reasonable given the nature of his illness and the quality of care Ethin received.

Monday evening, after spending the day playing phone tag with the vet and my bank, Ethin was home and happy... much to the delight of the other felines in our house, who missed him terribly. Ditto his adoptive parents.

Ethin is largely back to his old self.

Jillian and I would like to thank Drs. Sra, Bhandari, and Tait of Southglen Animal Hospital for the excellent care they gave Ethin, and for their positive, professional attitudes throughout.

We'd also like to thank our family and friends for their love, support (emotional and financial), and prayers during Ethin's ordeal. Thank you.

Ethin's nickname has been "The Six-Million Dollar Cat" for a number of years.

He's a survivor. Despite his docile, lethargic, and sweet personality, he's very tough. In his thirteen years, he's suffered urinary tract infections, kidney and liver problems, Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (enlarging of the heart), chronic clinical constipation, rapid changes in weight (from 26 lbs to 9lbs, now stable at 13lbs), and, in the last few years, diabetes.

He's been written off by others, given slim chance after slim chance by previous veterinarians, but he always seems to pull through.

It hasn't always been easy, and has left me in debt on occasion (another reason I call him "Six-Million Dollar Cat"!), but as far as I'm concerned, he's worth it. If there's even a slim hope of survival, Ethin (and our other cats) will get the best care he can get.

Curiosity Killed The Cat

2011-06-16T14:57:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Never Let Your Magazine Run Dry

2011-06-03T11:42:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

If there's one thing I love, it's print media.

And among the various forms of print media, magazines are my special passion (and not necessarily the kind with centerfolds!). So much so, that I have bought my weight (210#) in magazines some months.

I have a wide variety of interests, and it's not uncommon to see magazines on my coffee table spanning such diverse subjects as radio & communications, architecture & design, urbanism, computers, business, men's fashion, and current events. It's fairly common to see foreign (language) magazines in the mix as well.

Being somewhat of a self-starter/DIY kinda guy, I have a special place in my heart for 'zines and independently-produced magazines. A few years ago, while doing a quick Google search for distributors of independent 'zines (domestic and international), I came across Colophon.

http://www.welovecolophon.com/home/

Despite never being able to get to Luxembourg to visit (let alone attend the bi-annual Colophon symposium), I have contented myself with their online database of magazines (print, PDF, and... blog). There is a veritable treasure-trove of magazines, some good, some... not.

Some of my favourites include new type/art/design mag Gratuitous Type, Aussie design mag DQ, German-language UrbanSpacemag, and a plethora of magazines that didn't seem to last longer than a couple of issues.

Quality ranges from slick, polished glossies to things that look like they were scribbled with Crayolas.
Have a quick look at their database, there's bound to be something you'll like.

Now, I told you all that so I could tell you this.

My original career choice (when I graduated in '91) was to be a commercial artist and layout designer/paste-up editor, but those plans fell through when Red River Community College (as it was then known) cancelled their Graphic Arts course that year. The world had changed, and Desktop Publishing had become all the rage. Not wanting to wait a year or so while the course was revamped or retooled (and under pressure to "go to school"), I opted to make a career out of my "other" interest, computers.

As a side note, my computer career (a tech support lackey for a major computer manufacturer) lasted all of 105 minutes. After the fourth call, I asked my supervisor if all our callers were this stupid. When she replied in the affirmative, I said my goodbyes.

I never truly gave up on my dream, however. I have been an irregular contributor to a few magazines (print and... otherwise) since the mid-90s. My most recent articles appeared in the first and last issues of computer hobbyist zine 300 Baud, and have had a few dozen articles appear elsewhere in a few other (also now defunct) publications as well.

I started Conceited Jerk Dot Com (originally titled "Welcome to the Darkest Corners of my Mind") as a move into the realm of digital publishing. To that end, it's been an abject failure on the design front, something I am hoping to alleviate shortly...

Good Lord, has it been THAT long?!

2011-05-20T12:30:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Conceited Jerk Dot Com is approaching its tenth anniversary.

I'm shocked, too. It means I've been posting this drivel for a bloody decade!

The site has had its ups-and-downs, extended periods of inactivity, a three-year hiatus while I shifted focus to Web 2.0, and a longer (concurrent) period where I just didn't give a shit.

But through it all, I've kept it going. Largely out of sheer stubbornness, but also because I do (on rare occasions) have something meaningful to share.

On that note, I'm planning on doing something for the site's Tenth Anniversary on January 28th, 2012. I have a few ideas of what I'd like to do (such as an updated version of my title page, which I've already redesigned for contemporary monitors!), but I'd also like to hear a few (realistic) suggestions from my friends, readers, and hangers-on... apart from suggestions such as "posting regularily", "coherent content", "sexy photos", and "shutting up/down completely", that is...

Drop me a line in person (Cherenkov, we gotta go for a beer!), in private, via email, via social media, or even here in the comments section.

Click here to see the site's humble 2002 beginnings!

Rick Hanson, R.I.P.

2011-05-06T21:03:00.001-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

I received some sad news in my inbox this morning. Rick Hanson, genial proprietor of Club 100, succumbed to cancer last Saturday.

Club 100 was the place to go for all things related to the TRS-80 Model "T" line of portable computers: the Model 100 and its successors, the Models 102 and 200. I myself have been an avid user of my Model 100 for nearly seven years, and a fringe* member of the community.

*this link leads to a pdf, the final issue of 300 Baud magazine, which includes a Model T hardware review I wrote!

I'd never met Rick, and I didn't really know him personally apart from a few email exchanges on the Model 100 mailing list (and when I placed orders via the Club 100 website), but he really struck me as a genuinely nice fellow who truly cared about what he did and the people in the community.

If there was one thing about Rick that stuck with me, it was his humble sentiment that "Club 100 isn't me... you are Club 100, you are the community, and I am only a small part of it".

I never met you, Rick, and I barely even knew you, but I do know that for someone who was only a small part of the community, you've left some pretty big shoes to fill.

Truly a great loss.

Rest in Peace.

(Written on my Model 100. It seemed only fitting.)

A lot of memories came flooding back as I wrote the above piece earlier this evening.

It'd been a while since I'd used my Model 100 (aka Gibraltar) for blogging. Truth told, I kinda missed it. Gibraltar saw frequent use in the years between Nadia's demise(s) and her subsequent resurrection(s), whenever I needed a reliable mobile blogging solution.

It was great - instant on, full-sized keyboard, and a spartan display devoid of distractions. Best of all, the computer ran for MONTHS on 4 AA batteries! And I never, EVER thought that 32K of RAM would be plenty in this day and age. (I also relished the attention I received at the coffee shop whenever I brought Gibraltar out to write an article!)

Those were the days.

Sadly, I fell away from the blogosphere for a while... and apart from the odd Retrochallenge or retrocomputing article, Gibraltar was largely left to gather dust. But now that the writing bug has bitten me again, I suspect that he may be seeing more frequent use.

"Don't Mess With Me, I Watch Ultimate Fighting!", and Alas, Poor Biebs...

2011-05-06T21:03:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Jillian and I were walking through our local mall yesterday afternoon, grabbing a few essentials for the week, when we saw the funniest thing we'd seen in some time. A surly looking, heavily-tattooed fat man swagger-waddled out of the local mixed martial arts fanshop, chest puffed out and glowering at passersby.

I walked by him with a bemused smile on my face, which caused the man to sneer a sneer that I swear said "I'm the toughest man in the mall, because I shop at the local MMA fanboy shop!", and the equally-toned look he shot us was priceless. At which point I burst out laughing.

The guy shot me another look, but otherwise just kept walking.

I'd largely put the encounter out of my head. But for some reason, it was all I could think about during the commute this morning.

I have no idea why it amused me as much as it did. I mean, as someone who studied martial arts (Kendo), I know the sheer amount of work and training these MMA fighters do, and the discipline they have. The very notion that this guy could be transformed from lardass to badass simply by wearing a Tapout shirt and sweatpants is laugable...

Speaking of discipline, I realized how out of shape I really am.

About a month ago, I bought a call bell for our front counter at work. Experience told me I should affix a sticker that read "Please ring bell ONCE for service", otherwise we'd have idiots hitting it a few dozen times to announce their presence.

With that in mind, I also made up a sign that read "Prices increase 5% with each additional ring" and slipped it under the bell.

It has worked so far, at least as far as our customers are concerned. Staff, on the other hand...

One of our counter guys has a habit of ringing the damned thing and encourages others to do so as well, knowing how much it annoys us. Today, it was our youngest member of staff's turn.

The lad, an 18 year old whom we'll call "Biebs", decided he wanted in on the joke. After the first ring, I got up from my chair, walked out of my office and into the counter sales area, and saw Biebs giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Time to have me some fun," I thought...

"Biebs, we love ya and all that," I began my warning, "but if you ring that fucking bell again, I'm gonna stuff it into one of your smaller orifices!"

He reacted in mock horror, and I turned around to walk away, waiting to hear the bell.

Biebs didn't disappoint... He rang the bell like an angry telegrapher on speed.

I ran over to the counter, grabbed the bell in my palm, and proceeded to chase the lad around the showroom.

Biebs was quick... a little too quick for 38 year-old CJ, so I figured I'd draw him into MY game.

After our first lap, I half-pretended to be out of breath. Pulling a loonie from my pocket, I walked over to the vending machine to grab a Coke, as though I were signaling my defeat.

Our fellow coworkers (who'd put Biebs up to it and egged him on) laughed and started razzing me. I smiled... all part of my plan.

Right on cue, Biebs ran over to me and smacked me upside the head.

"I'm younger and faster!" he giggled. The guys all roared with laughter.

Obviously, young Biebs has never seen Fried Green Tomatoes.

As he trotted away, I bent down, grabbed the ends of the floormat he was running on, and pulled.

Poor Biebs went flying, landing on his face.

"Face it, kid," I mocked, "I'm older and have seen better cartoons!"

At which point, the guys nearly all fell over laughing. The boss, who was coming out to tell us to knock it off, bust a gut when he saw what had happened.

So, today Biebs learned a lesson about Tom and Jerry, and not to screw with people older, wiser, meaner, and better versed in cartoon hijinks than himself.

A friendly reminder to get out there and vote!

2011-05-02T14:04:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Just a friendly reminder, whether you're pulling for Count Chocula, the Video Professor, or J.R. Ewing, to get out there and vote today.

Make your voice heard.

Devoted, Sentimental, Stubborn, or Cheap?

2011-05-01T22:30:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

After my recent experiences with Moblogging on my Palm Treo 650, I have decided against using the smartphone as my primary mobile blogging device.

It was a bit Hellish. Okay, maybe that's being a tad melodramatic, but suffice it to say, things weren't as easy as I'd hoped. The solutions that worked on one of my blogs didn't on another... and NOTHING seems to work with Tripod's blog creator.

After careful consideration, I decided that if I was serious about blogging, it was time to bring my beloved Nadia back from the dead yet again.

Longtime readers of my old blog Conceit and Sociopathy will remember Nadia, better known as my 1999-vintage Powerbook G3 Lombard. I've had her for a loooong time now, and I have this habit of breaking her sound/power board (most recently, by tripping over the power cable and breaking the internal connector).

This model of Powerbook is well-known for its easily broken sound/power board, therefore replacement parts are readily available for about $20. I'm considering buying them in bulk!

I'm often asked why I bother fixing a twelve-year old (as I write this) laptop that's prone to breakage, when laptops nowadays are cheap?

Is it because I'm devoted? Not overly. I love the Lombard's screen, form factor, size, and weight, but its speed (400MHz) and lack of recent web browser and USB 2.0 put me off some days... although I can work quite happily with the last supported Safari or Firefox, Ecto (blogging app) still works, and USB 2.0 can be added simply by buying a USB 2.0 Cardbus card.

Is it because I'm sentimental? Maybe a little. I've had Nadia for several years, and I used her to write my first blog and synced her to my first iPod and iTunes account. She's been on several trips wih me, and we've been through a lot together. So, yes, I do have a sentimental attachment to the old girl.

Is it because I'm stubborn? Absolutely. I've had Nadia apart more times than I care to admit, and am well familiar with her internal workings. I can pretty much take her apart and reassemble her in my sleep, and replacing the aforementioned sound/power board is a twenty-minute affair. I have the knowledge and ability to keep fixing her, and when she's fully repaired she works well. Why would I want to replace her?

Is it because I'm cheap? You'd better believe it. With our upcoming wedding, home renovations, the purchase of a car in the near future, and children in the not-too-distant future, money is gonna be tight. While I could shell out a few hundred for another laptop that'll be just as obsolete in a couple of years, why bother? I can do everything I need on Nadia, and I have the know-how to keep fixing her when she does break.

So yes, I am devoted, sentimental, stubborn, cheap, and probably insane. Ultimately though, I keep fixing Nadia because I can.

At any rate, it feels great to be blogging on a regular basis again. It helps that my fiancée Jillian is an avid blogger/writer as well, and she serves as a big inspiration to me, even if we blog about vastly different subject matter.
I'll see you later this week, when I liken life to a certain infamous video game.

To MoBlog or Not To MoBlog?

2011-04-29T15:54:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

I am REALLY getting annoyed with mobile blogging.

My trouble began when I tried out a (the) blogging app for my 2004-vintage Palm Treo 650. Despite trying everything I could, I just couldn't get the app to connect to Blogger's API.

Now, the app had last been updated in 2008, and I remembered a bit later that Blogger had tweaked their authentication system in late 2008/early 2009, rendering the app effectively useless. D'oh.

So, I tested out Blogger's Mail2Blog feature by emailing an update to The Speakeasy, and it worked quite nicely. Thank heaven for small miracles!

So, I'm going to try to post this on my Tripod blog in the same way. Let's hope this works...

** EDIT **

It didn't.

After a quick look on Tripod's Help Forum, it appears Tripod's own mail-to-blog feature isn't working. Several people have trouble tickets open, so let's hope it gets resolved soon... because if it doesn't, I may have to re-open C&S on Blogger. (CJ's note: HI THERE! -11/05/11)

My mobile woes aren't limited to blogging, either.

I set my Facebook account up to allow posting by email as well. After jumping through all the requisite hoops and sending my test updates to the specially tailored address Facebook provided, it was returned to me as undeliverable: recipient refused. Turns out Facebook's server killed off my emails under the suspicion that they were spam... despite the fact that it's the same address I use to log onto FB.

This is making my head hurt.

I really, REALLY have to fix Nadia again...

40 Lenten Nights

2011-04-22T21:47:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

If there's one thing I learned during Lent, it's not to bite off more than I can chew.

I managed to go 37 days without Internet (3 days short ). This was pretty easy, because, as I said in a previous post, I'd gone without Internet for a year recently and found I could live quite nicely without it. It did take a bit of discipline to keep from checking Facebook or eBay (et cetera) at work during those 37 days, but I managed. Kept it strictly business.

The only drawback was that I missed my online friends and our witty back-and-forth.

I surprised myself with how well I was able to avoid junk food... no pop, no Slurpees, no chips, no chocolate bars, and no donuts for 37 days! This took a fair bit of willpower, as my diet is usually chock full of crap. I managed to eat healthier, but it was a battle the whole time... especially considering I kept (constantly) winning free donuts in Tim Horton's "Roll Up the Rim" contest/promotion. But, I stuck to the plan and feel a great deal better because of it.

So, how is this "biting off more than I can chew", you may ask?

Well, keep your gitch on, I'm getting to that. Don't be so damned impatient!

The biggest challenge I faced during Lent was swearing. I'm well-known for my rather colourful vocabulary liberally salted with rather off-colour words, and trying not to swear was, to me, a Herculean task. My Everest, if you will.

I started out rather gung-ho and ready to exercise the less offensive parts of my vocabulary. Now, if it came down to a mere test of wordplay, I would have made it the whole 40 days, but I had an unforeseen adversary working against me...

My temper.

I managed to last two days before losing it, cursing a (justified) blue streak at a coworker, and it's only gotten worse since then.

Sigh.

Admittedly, the plan was a bit too ambitious given my relative lack of discipline in this regard. While reflecting on my Lenten experiences these last two days, I started thinking about the root causes of my anger and frustrations, the whys and wherefores of my rage, and came up with some interesting answers.
Ones I'll share with you one day soon.

Free Kevin, but Imprison Your Soul

2011-04-20T14:29:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

So, I'm back from my Lenten journey... a few days early.

I almost made it. I would have gone the distance (as far as not using the Internet was concerned), but a friend of mine told me to check my Twitter feed for a news article she was sending me.

The link never materialized, but I DID discover a bit of information that upset me no end.

Apparently one of my heroes, Kevin Mitnick, was in town yesterday and, not being online to catch the word, I MISSED OUT ON THIS ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY!

As I asked on my Twitter feed, "Was purifying my immortal soul worth missing Kevin Mitnick's visit to Winnipeg?"

Yes, but barely.

Denial of Service

2011-03-08T11:20:00.000-06:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

So, tomorrow is Ash Wednesday.
In solidarity with Jillian (and in keeping with my own burgeoning Faith), I've decided to give a few things up for the forty days of Lent.

They are, in no particular order:
Personal use of the Internet: Gone are Facebook, Twitter, eBay, forums, blogging, and email. I'll even have to limit my cellphone use to voice communications, as both my Facebook and Twitter accounts are linked to my phone. The only exceptions will be the three outstanding eBay transactions which are a couple of weeks late, and my work-related email. Thus, if you need to get ahold of me, you'll have to phone me, write me a letter, or track me down in person. This shouldn't be TOO hard, as I recently lived without home internet for a year (2009)... and I hardly have time to blog anymore anyway ;)
Junk Food: Self-explanatory. No pop, chips, chocolate, etc. No snacking between meals, either.
Swearing: Admittedly the toughest of all, as my vocabulary is quite... colourful. No cursing (eg. Jesus!, Damn it!, etc), nothing that SOUNDS like a curse word (Fark!, Cripes! Darn!, Geez!, etc), and certainly no swearing in other languages (as I am wont to do!).

Of course, the above are in addition to the traditional sacrifices during Lent (smaller meals, no eating between meals, no meat on Fridays, etc).

See you in forty days.

Speaking of Denial of Service, it looks as though 300 Baud magazine has called it quits after only three issues. I've contributed two articles to the magazine (the first and last issues) and would be sad to see it go.

Sounds as though some of us want to help keep the magazine going, hopefully we can persuade the two fine gentlemen behind the magazine ...

Not Being an Asshole Helps Build Community

2011-02-06T16:03:00.000-06:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

The World of CJ is not without its share of sudden changes. In fact, it is the Capitol of Sudden Changes.

The Priestess is no more.

My fiancée Jillian was until recently a Wiccan Priestess. Without going into detail (and there are a LOT of details), she has returned to her Catholic roots. As such, she will no longer be known as The Priestess... hereafter we'll be using her real name.

Truth told, I'd been seeing the signs of her Return for a few weeks now, so I wasn't at all surprised when she informed me of her decision. I told her she'd have my unending support regardless of the path she chose.

I was a great deal happier than I let on. I've been meaning to go back to church (in my case, the Anglican Church) for nigh on ten years now, and this gave me the "excuse" I needed. The fact that she chose St. Anthony of Padua was of particular interest to me, as it is directly across the street from my family's former place of worship (and where I was baptised), St. Anne's Anglican Church!

We decided to attend this Sunday's Mass. Yes, for the first time in twenty-seven years, CJ attended church for something other than a wedding or funeral. By choice.

It was a great experience, the people were very welcoming, and despite not really knowing what was going on, I never felt lost. Jillian explained a lot of the tradition beforehand (and during), which helped me to understand.

Not being Catholic, I wasn't able to take Communion, however I was able to receive the Pastor's blessing.

--

I wish the Pastor's Homily (sermon) was available as a podcast (or that I'd brought a voice recorder with me), because he'd said a number of things that really resonated with cynical ol' me.

The first bit of wisdom I took was, in the Pastor's words, to "keep a mellow heart", to be happy, and not judge the people who anger or annoy the shit out of you... because chances are, you probably annoy the living shit out of someone too!

Jillian and I both laughed about that around the breakfast table afterwards. We're both rather fond/guilty of heaping scorn/bile upon those who have offended our sensibilities... but never once gave pause to reflect that we may be/are doing the same thing to others. Sigh. Guess we'll have to work on that...

The second thing I took from the Homily was a metaphor of a lone tree. The pastor likened those who choose to keep faith privately (ie praying and worshipping at home "in their own way" and never attending Mass) to a lone tree at the top of a mountain... It may stand for a while, but a strong wind can and will blow it down. He went on to say that one needs to attend Mass and worship en masse, as by doing so, you familiarize yourself with those around you, building community. By building community, you are no longer the lone tree at the top of the mountain... you're part of a great forest, and, with the support of those around you, are unlikely to blow down.

This particularily struck me. Having an interest in urbanism and working communities, I have long railed at the breakdown of interpersonal relationships with one's neighbours. I mean, who ARE the people in your neighbourhood? Who is that guy across the street? Do you know his name, or is he simply "that gangly-looking cocksucker in the green house"? How about the shrewish woman down the street who's always squawking at her kids? How about your neighbour, Fred? Apart from saying hello every so often, how much do you really know about Fred and what he keeps in that basement? Real community is knowing (and being known to) the people around you. Love thy neighbour indeed.

Jillian and I sat around the breakfast table, discussing the service. She'd asked me what I'd taken from it, and I summed it up thus:

"Not being an asshole helps build community"

She laughed and said "They should have that instead of 'Welcome to the North End/People Before Profit' at the foot of the Slaw Rebchuk Bridge!" I couldn't help agreeing with her.

I've lived in this neighbourhood for nine years this May. I know a handful of the people in my neighbourhood (and yes, what "Fred" keeps in his basement... his baseball trophies) but would love to know them all.

Jill has been living with me for a couple of months now, and I can't wait to introduce her to the few people I've gotten to know. We are planning to raise a family here, shop here, play here, and attend Church here. I think we're well on our way to help building this community.

Now, if I could only stop being an asshole! ;)

An Explainable Prolonged Absence, Apparently...

2011-01-24T12:18:00.000-06:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

As most (if not all) of our family and friends already know, The Priestess and I are engaged.

Nobody was surprised.

Despite dating for little over a month when I popped the question, we both knew it was time. We've known each other for eleven years and have seen each other at our worst, yet are still absolutely crazy about each other.

Wedding day is set for Oct.8th.

--

Speaking of weddings, we'd made plans to attend the Wedding Show at the Winnipeg Convention Centre this weekend.

Unfortunately (well, fortunately, as it turns out) we'd both taken ill over the weekend, and as such were unable to attend. We read a couple of online reviews (and Facebook comments from friends who did attend) and breathed a huge sigh of relief to hear we'd spared ourself a lot of grief.

We're planning to hold a very quiet, intimate, and very low-key ceremony, which seemed to be at odds with the Wedding Show's theme of Opulence (as one reviewer put it). Being that our budget is relatively small (three digits), Opulence wouldn't fit with our plans.

That, and the thought of being around dozens of potential Bridezillas (as the Priestess put it) appealed to neither of us.

More to come...

An Explainable Absence

2010-12-09T13:22:00.000-06:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

I'm sick again.

I've come to the conclusion that my immune system is much like the Canadian Forces: poorly funded and ill-equipped to defend such a great home.

In my case, my diet plays a large part in the weakening of defenses. However, a little over a month ago, I decided to step out of my rut and make a few (wholesale) changes. First off, I've cut down my pop (and alcohol) intake by a good 70%, and scaled back on the coffee as well. Secondly, I've taken a long, serious look at what I've been eating.

I made the decision then to slowly "go organic". Maybe not 100%, but a significant portion of my diet will be organic in a few months time.

As the Universe enjoys toying with us mortals via synchronicity, something else happened around the same time that made me want to stick with my new plan...

I found my soulmate.

Longtime readers of Conceit and Sociopathy's comment section will remember a certain young lady named Priestess Yemaya or Metis Butterfly, an old friend of mine from our wild/crazy/drunken/released-on-own-recognizance-with-a-promise-to-appear days. Well, long story short, we met for coffee at the beginning of November (originally so I could buy a few boxes of Girl Guide cookies from her group) and have been dating ever since.

As it turns out, the Priestess had also made a vow to "go organic" a while ago, and we've been learning together. She's introduced me to a number of little shops and eateries around town that I otherwise would have ignored, in parts of town I would rarely go... which is sad, because some of these areas (Westminster/Wolseley, etc) are perfect examples of Walkability which, as someone with an interest in urbanism, are eminently desireable.

Where am I going with this?

Well, this will mean one of two things.

Either:
A) I'll have new inspiration and new experiences to write about, and will blog accordingly
or
B) I'll be too busy living, loving, and learning, and thus have neither time nor inclination to write.
Personally, I'm trying for "A" but we'll see how it goes.

Feel Like You Need a Shower?

2010-10-27T20:54:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

So, today was the big day.

Today we went to the polls and cast our ballots to elect (or re-elect, as the case may be) Winnipeg's new mayor and City Councillors. You did get off your lazy, cynical ass to vote, didn't you? Didn't you?!

Truth told, I know a few people who didn't, and have gotten wind of a few more who say they are abstaining from the vote for whatever reason. I don't think any less of these ~~whiny self-righteous cocksuckers~~ individuals for not voting, that's their ~~cop out~~ decision, and I'll respect that. I have to admit, when it comes to mayoral candidates, pickins' is slim
.
I voted, and I did so happily, despite the nasty weather and nastier virus I'm currently battling.

"Why are you so happy, then, Mr. Jerk?" you may ask.

Well, I'll let you in on a little secret: I don't care who wins the Mayoral race. I don't care for the job our Mr. Katz has done of late, but I don't have much faith in his competitor(s), either. I'll stop short of saying something cynical like "We're fucked regardless of who gets in", but I have a gut feeling we're in for a rough couple of years.

"Then why, pray tell, are you so happy?" you may ask again.

Simple. If it weren't for lousy local politics, our local blogging community would have nothing to write about... they'd all start writing about random, pointless crap, and I really hate competition.

Seriously, though... While I have no real faith in the Mayoralty, I do have faith in one of the candidates running for City Council in my ward. I know the kind of work this person has done for the community, and know they'd be the right person to represent our ward... so I got out of my deathbed, trudged the three blocks in the howling autumn gale (uphill both ways, shoeless, carrying my elderly neighbours on my back) to the polling station, and lent this person my support. I wish them luck.

I also wish my pal Dean Koshelanyk luck... he's running for Councillor in Point Douglas, right next door to our ward.

Anyhow, I'm getting less coherent by the minute, thanks in part to the over-the-counter cold-and-flu medication I'm taking, so I'll wrap this up now. I shudder at the editing I'll need to do tomorrow...

Stripped Bare

2010-10-18T19:46:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

Acting on a suggestion from Mr. Point (and because all the other bloggers are doing it), I headed down to 272 Main St this evening after work, with camera in tow.

"Why?", you may ask. Why, to see the Scott Block, of course!

After several decades of hiding its true face behind ugly white slats*, it has been revealed to the world. The Scott Block's façade has been laid bare for all to see.

View of 272 Main St from across the street

View of the South side of 272 Main St.

Mounting brackets for the cladding

Mounting brackets closeup

I don't know about you, but I much prefer the original façade over the white slats any day. The Scott building is going to look great when the restoration is complete.

To a New Beginning

2010-10-17T22:47:00.000-05:00

(migrated from my Tripod blog on 11/05/2011)

So, here we go again.

In deference to my Web 2.0 readership, I have set aside a bit of storage and bandwidth to bring you the reanimated version of my old blog, Conceit and Sociopathy.

When the Blogosphere is full, the Dead will walk the earth.

Seriously though, I've had a couple of people mention that they'd like my page a lot more if it were more interactive... like my old blog used to be. As I hand-code my own HTML, and as my skillset isn't at the level where I can add such things myself, I decided to take the easy way out and use Tripod's built-in Blog Builder as I did on two previous occasions (Dove's Society Page and the Thugs' site, longtime readers will remember!).

It ain't pretty, but it's functional. You can leave comments (moderated, of course), and there's a handy RSS feed too, so update your blogrolls, folks... I'll be doing the same in the next couple of days.

Before you ask... no, this doesn't mean the rest of the site is dead. All the truly interesting stuff will be available solely via the original index page.

Speaking of interesting, I found another batch of old content from years gone by. I came across an old 1Gb hard drive that I'd yanked from Raven, my old Powerbook 5300. I'm currently going through it, and there's a couple of old chestnuts I think should see the light of day again... specifically a couple of pieces that will be of interest to a certain girl living in Belgium (hi Krstjan!)

At any rate, I'm debating whether to migrate Conceit and Sociopathy's content here, or to the main page's commentary section. Either way, it'll require a bit of work.

Speaking of work, it's getting late. Time to hit the sack.

One Door Closes, Another Re-opens

2010-05-06T09:29:00.004-05:00

Today marks the final day, the final post on Conceit and Sociopathy.

I haven't had the time to update regularily due to work and other endeavours (and am getting sick of deleting all the spam from the comments section), so I've decided to pull the plug for good.

Goodbye Web 2.0, it's been a slice.

From here on in, all my crap (writing, photography, and a few upcoming surprises) will be posted on my old website at www.conceitedjerk.com, or my new blog at www.conceitedjerk.com/blog. Excuse the mess, we're undergoing renovations to serve ~~you~~ me better.

I'll eventually migrate all this blog's content over, but that'll happen when I get around to it.

So long, folks. Thanks for putting up with me for the last few years!

-CJ

(edit 5/11/10: comments are now closed. Fuck you, spammers!)

Third Time's a Charm!

2010-04-09T22:33:00.001-05:00

She's back.

It took me a year and a half, but tonight (after two hours of work) I finally repaired my Powerbook G3 Lombard.

My beloved Nadia is alive and kicking.

--

Nadia died (for the second time) in December 2008.

I remember it was on a Saturday morning. I was browsing eBay and checking the soccer scores online when the phone rang. A friend of mine wanted to meet for breakfast, so I quickly checked the bus schedule and made my way out the door. I left Nadia on, and let OS X's Software Update do its thing. After a half-hour had passed, Nadia went into "Hibernate" mode.

She never woke up.

I tried everything in my power to get her to boot. Tried resetting the Power Management Unit, tried zapping the PRAM settings, tried pleading and swearing, all to no avail.

I took the laptop apart a couple of times, to look for any obvious problems and found nothing. After a couple of weeks of researching, poring over repair guides, and asking around on Mac forums, I gave up. Nadia was put in the Lab along with all the other machines in need of repair. The Pile of No Return, as it has since come to be known.

Fast forward to today.

I've been wracking my brain trying to fix my Compaq Armada (aka iBludgeon) since it died last week. I've managed to get the thing to boot off of floppies or CDs, but only if I remove the hard drive. Remembering that I had a nice 60Gb drive sitting in Nadia's lifeless shell, I made the decision this evening to donate some of Nadia's organs for transplant purposes.

I was removing her hard drive when I noticed a tiny broken connector on Nadia's sound board.

I remember I'd been having trouble with Nadia's speakers before she died... then it hit me like a ton of bricks: the power switch on the Powerbook G3 Lombard is also routed through the sound board!

Son of a bitch! Could the solution be that easy?

I grabbed the spare non-working Lombard I'd bought solely for its battery and tore out its sound board. I slowly and carefully took Nadia apart, removed the old sound board, popped the replacement in, put her back together, powered her up, and...

"Startup Chime"

Yup. It was the power switch after all. Somehow it must have come loose or broke during our travels.

The hard drive whirred to life and booted into OS X. Guess that settles that!

I've spent the last hour checking her out, making sure everything does what it's supposed to do. The internal PRAM battery is dead, so she's not keeping date & time current. The main battery is depleted, hopefully it'll still hold a decent charge. The speakers work well (listening to Luxuriamusic as I write this), and overall Nadia seems ship-shape.

I have my mobile blogging machine and Girl Friday back again.

Hopefully for good this time.

Sometimes the Voices in My Head Are Right

2010-04-02T14:25:00.000-05:00

You know, it's my own damned fault.

I usually ignore those voices in my head, they tell me things I dare not repeat. But damn it all, this time, they were right.

"Don't do it, CJ," they plead, "You're just gonna screw it all up!"

"Nonsense!," I exclaimed, "We meet the system requirements, there's no reason this shouldn't work!"

Famous last words. Especially when a Windows product is involved.

Sure enough, the Blue Screen of Death popped up on my laptop screen... and the system shut down.

And wouldn't reboot.

The monitor's "soft-adjust" app conflicted with something else I had running (likely my webcam suite) and caused the BSoD... which in turn wiped the boot sector of my hard drive.

Thus my $10 laptop became a $10 paperweight.

But let's backtrack a bit.

I bought the laptop in question (a Compaq Armada 1750 I soon nicknamed "iBludgeon") for ten bucks back in the fall. I spent a couple of weeks locating a few things I'd need to get it going (hard drive caddy, power cord, etc), all of which were found easily and inexpensively. A couple of days later, the unit was good to go.

Since then, the laptop has been used for the sole purpose of controlling my Ten-Tec RX320D software-defined radio. It performed the role admirably, and using this combination I was able to pick up shortwave stations I am normally unable to receive on some of my other radios.

After a while, it seemed that the laptop was being wasted in such a role. I could easily cobble together a more powerful desktop system to take its place, and free iBludgeon up for more portable use. With my schedule the way it is, and with Nadia a long way from being fixed, I decided to use iBludgeon as my new mobile office, photography, and blogging machine.

Indeed, I've spent the last month loading iBludgeon up with my Office suite, camera software, photo printer suite, GIMP graphics editor, and a few other apps I felt I needed. I bought a Wireless-G wifi card on closeout for $30 at Staples on Thursday, and I even found my old webcam and installed that!

Life was good.

This morning, while checking on an eBay auction, I came across a docking station for the laptop. I snagged it for a fiver (plus $30 shipping), and sent payment as soon as the invoice hit my inbox.

"So," I thought to myself, "This is good. I can leave my photo printer, Ten-Tec radio, and USB 14-in-One card reader hooked up to the docking station instead of constantly connecting and disconnecting everything from the laptop whenever I want to go out."

Which is cool, because it's a pain in the ass to constantly connect and disconnect everything... I know from experience.

I was in the process of cleaning off my office desk when I had an idea. The docking station has an external monitor port... and I have a nice widescreen LCD monitor that's been sitting on my other desk unused since my Linux box died.

I checked the monitor's manual, and sure enough, iBludgeon met the requirements... 200MHz processor, Windows 98 through XP. I'm running Windows 2000 SP4 on a PIII 850 (running at 700MHz).

This should work!

On the Road Again, I Just Can't Wait To Get On The Road Again

2010-03-29T18:04:00.003-05:00

It's been eight years, but I will soon be mobile again.

My life being what it is these days (hectic), I felt a vehicle was becoming a necessity.

I parked my car for the last time the day I bought my house. The car ran, but needed a fair bit of work... at a time when money was tight owing to my first mortgage. I told myself I'd fix the car the minute the money became available.

It never did.

Every time it looked as though a few bucks could be spared, something would happen. The cats got sick, fridge conked out, computer died, furnace crapped out, had to post bail, etc. It never failed.

It seemed as though I'd be riding the bus forever.

That all changed when my friend decided he and his wife were buying a new car.

He joked about using his car, a four-door '91 Dodge Spirit, as trade in on a newer model... or calling one of those "$100 for vehicles - running or not" places to take it away, or even calling one of those "Retire your Ride" programs.

Well, after being informed there was a bit of a wait involved vis the "Retire your Ride" folks (who are fucking swamped, incidentally - one towing company was told they'd have maybe 600 cars all year... they just hit 2300 by the end of February!), it seemed he'd be opting for the trade-in route. Problem was, he wouldn't get much for it.

Never one to pass up an opportunity, I pounced, "If you're just getting rid of it, Hell, I'll take it!"

"Huh?" he replied, "Are you serious?!"

"I'm dead serious," I told him, giving him my I'm Dead Serious look, "How much do you want for it?"

"Well, er," he stammered, "I'll have to talk it over with the wife and we'll let you know."

"Great," my inner cynic bitched, "Something you can't give away suddenly becomes something of utmost value in a heartbeat just because someone wants it. How typically Winnipeg."

So, the asking price became the object of much speculation 'round the hose shop for the next few days. One said $3500. Another $2000. I myself figured $1500.

A week after our initial conversation, he had an answer, "$500."

My inner cynic was wrong for a change. How about that?

He and his wife had literally just bought a car from another of the employees at work, in fact, he'd be driving it home that day... and told me I could take his car right then and there, so I could take it in for the safety inspection (and mechanical inspection, too). I made the appointment for later that week, and was told to keep the car as long as I needed.

So, for one glorious week, I was mobile again. I would arrive home at 5:25 instead of my usual 6:30. I could sleep in for an hour in the mornings. I didn't have to limit my grocery purchases to what I could carry comfortably on the bus... and I could make my usual Saturday rounds in three hours instead of seven!

Funny, the things you take for granted... I've had time to work on my house, time to do my usual chores, and even had time to myself!

So, Friday rolled around. I dropped the car off at my old mechanic's place. Turns out he retired years ago, but his son was running the business. I gave him the keys and my business card, and walked to work.

11am came the phone call.

"Shaun, have you bought this car yet?" he asked.

"Nope," I replied.

"Thank God," he said.

Now, you know it can never be a good sign when a mechanic breathes an obvious sigh of relief.

"Ouch," I winced, "That bad?"

"Yeah," he laughed nervously, "I started tallying everything up, but stopped counting at $1200."

"Fuck!", I laughed, shaking my head, "That bad, eh?"

"Yeah," he laughed, "and that's just so it'll pass safety."

"So," I added, "I'm looking at a lot more to have it run well, then?"

"Pretty much," he sighed.

I laughed, but I was dying inside. Gone was the massive time-savings. Gone was the sleeping in. Gone was the convenience factor. Dead was my dream of a road trip to the east coast. Back was the bus and foul-smelling ~~homeless~~ bus shelters downtown. Sigh.

I walked over to his shop on my lunch hour with my head hung low. We went over everything on the inspection sheet, discussed a few things, and he made a comment that stuck with me...

"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend spending the money to have the work done. This'd be a perfect job for a backyard mechanic though..."

Oh shit. That was the wrong thing to say to me. Me, an Aquarian hacker with actual mechanical experience, who works in an industrial/hydraulic hose shop... and who enjoys a Herculean challenge.

But more on that later.

I walked into my friend's office (he's also my boss). I closed the door, sat down, and said, "Sorry matey, the deal's off."

He looked at me as though there could have been no other possible outcome.

We went over the list, and I gave him back his keys.

That should have been the end of it. Should have.

But the mechanic's words echoed in my mind... haunting me, tormenting me, like so many ghosts from my past.

At night I dreamt about it. The black spirit of that blue Spirit invaded my sleep with peals of cruel, mocking laughter.

"Fiiiiiiixxxx meeeeee," it wailed, "Wheeler, you must fiiiiiiixxxx meeee... driiiiivveee meeee! We are onnnneeeeee! Ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaaa!"

I started to feel like the protagonist in Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven. After a few restless nights of wrestling with the idea of buying the car anyway, warts and all, and fixing it myself, something hit me.

I already had my Lenore.

The same Lenore I parked in my garage for the first and last time in 2002. The same '86 Daytona Turbo Z I could never find time or funding to fix. The same car I cruised in, raced in, got laid in, etc. If I'm toying with the idea of fixing a vehicle, why don't I start with the one I already own?

I have the means, the ability, and now finally the desire to bring the ol' girl back from the dead a second time.

I started working on her tonight. She'll be done mid-summer.

Will I take the bus again?

Nevermore.

(Yeah, like you didn't see that coming!)

A Picture of a Cat Won't Purr

2010-02-07T15:36:00.003-06:00

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it's a poor substitute for experience. A travel epic is not the next best thing to being there.

Several years ago, I was invited to take part in a survey. I would be paid $100 for participating. All I had to do was answer these few simple questions in an online quiz to see if I were eligible. Like a sucker, I bit.

A phonecall came the next day. The person left a message telling me I was in, and to call them at this number first to verify my interest, and to let me know the time and place.

Even after verifying, I still wasn't sure if this was on the level. I kept expecting to be asked for my credit card info at any moment. But true to form, I decided that the best way to find if you're walking into a trap is to try to spring it.

Unfortunately, it was legit.

I was asked to sit in the waiting room with a few other people, and we helped ourselves to the plate of wraps and cans of pop that had been provided. When the time came for the survey, we were sat in assigned seats and given a sheet of looseleaf and a pen.

The survey was sponsored by an unnamed group involved in domestic tourism. We were called together at this particular time because we all fit a specific demographic: the Virtual Tourist.

According to our survey results, we were fond of learning about other cities and countries, reading up on famous places and landmarks, even reading about other cultures, but less inclined to go out and experience them in person.

Guilty as charged.

After a while, we all got the sense that the sponsor was interested in how they could entice us homebodies into travelling.

Fair ball, I thought. I'd rather they ask me outright rather than mining my personal data and monitoring my activities.

I made my thoughts known in the most constructive manner I could. Everyone did. By the time the survey was over and the hundred bucks collected, my interest in travelling was rekindled.

--

Fast forward a couple of years to July, 2008. I've just returned from a business trip to Edmonton with the boss. No sooner do I return to work, when there's an email in my inbox. It was from one of the outside salesmen at head office, giving me my itinerary and confirmation details for my flight to Mexico in January. It seems I'd been invited to attend the company's biannual sales meeting.

Mexico was a blast. Two hours of meetings, and four days of sunshine, sand, surf, Sol beer, and Tequila. Going through my DVD's worth of holiday snaps this morning brought it all back in living colour... the hot sand, the cool surf, the annoying American retiree who thought he could make himself more readily understood by speaking louder and slower, the taste of the beer, I could even feel the terrible sunburn I suffered.

Before we arrived at the resort, the boss and a few others advised that, if I wanted continual good service, to carry a stack of American dollar bills for tips, giving one to the waiter after every second or third drink. Leave it to me to inadvertently find a way around that...

On our outing into town, I decided I had to have an authentic Mexican soccer jersey. I managed to find a little shop that carried jerseys, and a Barcelona jersey caught my eye. Not Mexican, but what the heck.

#10, Lionel Messi. One of my all-time favourite players.

Right next to it was an Atlas Guadalajara jersey, which I liked and thus purchased.

I wore the Atlas jersey to the hotel's lounge after dinner. The boss pointed out that the staff were staring and pointing at me, smiling. When it came time for refills, I slipped the waiter a greenback.

He refused.

"Oh, no thank you, amigo!" he said, "It is our pleasure!"

Turns out, Atlas were the favourite team. Who knew?

--

That was a year ago. I remember it as though it happened last week. Going through my pictures brought it all flooding back. In this respect, a picture really is worth a thousand words.

But if I were to look at these pictures without context, without having experienced them, they would be worthless. The pictures worth a thousand hollow words.

So, put away your books and turn off your computer.

Get out there and experience different places. Get out there and experience life.

A picture of a cat won't purr. A picture of the surf won't get you wet.

What's Old is New Again!

2010-01-29T23:35:00.003-06:00

Well, OK... it's still old. Eight years to be precise.

The first stage of The Resurrection is complete. My original Anti-Webpage is back online in a minimal capacity.

Click here for details.

Vintage CJ: Is there a Doctor in the House? (11/25/2005)

2010-01-28T21:39:00.003-06:00

Found this one a while ago, reprinted here (again) for an old friend who just re-discovered me.

Is There a Doctor in the House?

Originally published on update #106, 11/25/2005, reprinted by special request

So, I've added another alias to my repertoire. In addition to Conceited Jerk, Kotatsuneko (which rarely gets used anymore), Dezorian (on certain mailing lists and newsgroups), Pope Antiquitus I (my Discordian name), and Royal Bastard, I am also known as Dr. Turnip Q. Moron on ********** Groups (the "Q" stands for Quinine, the ingredient that gives tonic water that awful taste!).

The good Doctor first came into being one cold February morning a couple of years ago. I was registering an operating system (Solaris 7) online, and I didn't feel like using my real name (although for some unfathomable reason, I used my actual address). So, I used "Turnip" for the first name, "Q" for the middle initial, "Moron" for surname, and "Dr." for salutation (I'd originally intended to put "Ms.", but the mouse slipped). So I hit "send" and my newly formed identity's personal information was sent to the manufacturer.

A couple of months later, I received a letter in the mail. It was an application for a credit card, addressed to Dr. Turnip Q. Moron"... It started out with "Dear Dr. Moron," and frequently called my alter ego by first name.

"Turnip, you won't find lower interest rates on any other card..."

The introductory letter was a right hoot to read! I was in tears for hours from laughing so hard! It was pretty obvious that the letter had been completely computer generated, and it's likely no human checked the thing... print, process, put into envelope, send. No humans required, the perfect model of industrial-commercial efficiency.

I blame the human element, however, for the doc not receiving any telemarketing calls. Someone has to check those lists! Although if he did receive a call or two, I imagine I'd handle them with my usual lack of decorum, and an impenetrable, indeterminately foreign false accent:

Doc: 'Allo?

Operator: Good evening, how are we doing this evening?

Doc: I am fine.

Operator: Good. My name is Janet, and I'm with Meiwaku Research Associates. Am I speaking to Turnip Q. Moron?

Doc: (angrily) Whaaa? Moron?!! Ees pronounze MORONE!!! How dare you!

Operator: (mortified) Uh... oh... my goodn- errr... I'm terribly sorr--

Doc: (yelling into earpiece) I don' wan' to hear eet! (slams phone down)

Oh, the fun I could have...

Incidentally, meiwaku means annoyance in Japanese, which, as I'm sure most people would agree, suits telemarketers to a tee. I swear, these people come from the same rung of Hell as salespeople, prop comedians, labour unions, communists, and drunks on the bus.

That's why I love Caller ID and voice mail ;)

CJ
11/25/2005

Il Ritorno del Bastardo

2010-01-06T18:56:00.005-06:00

It's the Second Coming.

As some of my Facebook "friends" know, the return of my old website is nigh.

Tripod and I have "kissed and made up"... I've re-registered my old domain name and left hosting duties to them for the time being.

The reason for this is simple: I've had a number of works that have been in the "planning stage" for far too long (some for years), and it's time they were unleashed upon an unsuspecting public.

"So, why don't I post everything here?", you might ask.

Because I want complete control over the look, feel, content, and architecture of my site, that's why. I want everything concatenated and amalgamated on one site, not spread out over YouTube, Flickr, Blogger, iTunes, etc... "Your One-Stop Sociopathy Shop".

Of course, having a full-time job and active social calendar means the transition will take just over a year. I'm doing everything by hand (html, CSS, etc) and not using someone's bullshit "content management system" app, nor paying some designer or consultant to do it for me. I mean, why pay some nerd top dollar to design a lousy site for me, when I'm just as capable of throwing together a lousy site on my own for nothing?!

I mean, really!

Conceit and Sociopathy will continue unabated until the transition is complete (a year-and-a-half tops).

Conceited Jerk dot com will be open during construction as of February 1st of this year.

So, another holiday season has come and gone.

Thank God.

While this season wasn't as hectic as in years past, and while Christmas shopping this year was markedly uneventful, I am still glad it's over.

But, I did get to see family members I don't normally get to see, so I suppose that's a plus.

New Years' Eve was great... as some of you know, I acted as bartender at my friend's party. He'd hired a professional bartender originally, but the gentleman had to back out a week before New Years, owing to family problems.

With a few days to go, and the prospect of getting another bartender at such short notice being laughably bad... who ya gonna call?

He offered me a hundred bucks for my services. They'd supply the booze. He also told me that the attendees will be his wife's friends, co-workers, and acquaintances, most of whom are snobby and condescending.

He told me to "feel free to be as abusive as I want with people". I told him that if that were the case, he could keep his hundred bucks... I'd do it for free. Nothing like getting to sharpen my claws on people who think they're better than me.

Alas, they were all quite polite, charming, and very interesting to talk to. Most were surprised to find that I'm not a bartender by trade, and that I was doing this simply as a favour for a friend. I omitted the particulars of the arrangement, however...

Received overwhelming (and a tad embarrassing) praise for my top-secret Martini recipe, which I unveiled shortly after midnight's champagne was gone.

All in all, I had a great time, met a number of great people in the Condo Crowd, and made a couple of new friends. I had a better time tending bar than I would have had I been a guest, though. You gotta talk to the guy who has the booze, and he in turn has to respond.

I Love Winnipeg Cat, and McNally-Robinson in Trouble

2009-12-29T18:57:00.005-06:00

I love the Winnipeg Cat blog.

Call it a guilty pleasure, sort of like sneaking a chocolate bar or bucket of fried chicken while on a strict diet. Many thanks to James of Slurpees and Murder fame for bringing this about!

I generated my first submission a few minutes ago, hope it makes the cut:

This subject has always been a pet peeve of mine...

Also, just got word that McNally-Robinson is fighting bankruptcy and are, in fact, closing their Polo Park store. Truth told, I knew they were headed for trouble when they moved their store from Portage Place to Polo Park (and opening a store in an upscale Toronto mall) while in the middle of a recession, so they've essentially brought it upon themselves.

**

Some people will tell you to "let the market decide". Well, I'm a part of that market, and I decide that I want McNally around. To this end, I'll be heading out to pick up a few books I've been putting off buying, and urge you all to do the same.

Join the Facebook group while you're at it.

A Secular Happy Annual Gift Day to all o' ya!

2009-12-23T13:20:00.002-06:00

We here at C&S would like to take this time (while we're still mostly sober) to wish ~~both~~ all our readers a very Merry Christmas!

We'll be raisin' a glass to you and yours... all the best to you this Holiday Season!

We'll return after New Years!

-Shaun

Holiday Fireplace, Internet version

2009-12-03T08:39:00.003-06:00

Want all the fun and excitement of the Holiday Fireplace but can't afford to sit in front of your TV all day?

Never fear, we here at the internet have you covered!

http://www.youtube.com/v/fsD1zoI7NYo

Thank you, YouTube!

(Sorry folks! I've received word that the embedded video was overlapping the right-hand columns of the blog in certain browsers. You're not missing anything important, but in the interest of fair play, I'll simply link to the video instead!)

Beer-soaked Philosophy and The End of Days

2009-12-01T19:37:00.011-06:00

It was pub night tonight, which means another helping of half-baked and not-well-thought-out commentary on the state of the planet.

Me an' Fry were in our usual places at Tavern United (McPhillips) tonight, shooting the shit and keeping each other abreast of the mundane goings-on in our lives. It was relatively uneventful, no plates were thrown at us, I didn't have the urge to hit anyone, and we barely noticed the people in the surrounding booths. Meals were good, the Guinness was cool and plentiful, all-in-all it was a good evening.

We spoke about the usual crap: our lives, our respective families, society, and of course, weaponry. Now, we've been enamoured of clandestine weaponry since we saw our first spy movies as kids, so we tend to keep abreast of such things. Fry spoke at length about a fully automatic machine pistol (that used a Glock mechanism) that folded up into a rectangle the size of a VHS tape... I mentioned that I'd seen such an animal on Youtube a few years ago and so we compared notes. We both agreed that such things, while cool and all that, are thoroughly impractical. In the time it takes to draw the rectangle from your coat/briefcase/undergarments and deploy it, you'd have been shot several times by your adversary who was armed with a simple pistol... the only real value these things have is in their collectability and the effect it has on awestruck rubes. (Ga-hyuck-hyuck-hyuck! Git a load o' that, ma! Wonder if'n they got it in Beta?)

We followed that with a twenty minute discussion on hand-to-hand weapons, cane swords, halberds, and things of that nature, but then one of the waitresses bent over and our trains of thought derailed as we stared at her caboose...

Once the conversation got back on track, it quickly (and inevitably) turned to our respective jobs. Now Fry has been wanting to get out of his work environment for a while now, a fact he shared with one of his other friends over the weekend. His friend has a philosophy that can be summed up as "unless you enter into a job with the sole intention of being the boss, you're a useless, ambitionless piece of shit who should never have been hired (or even born) in the first place." Fry was stunned silent when his friend told this to him, and I could tell it was making him upset as he relayed the conversation to me. Fry's philosophy (like my own) is that "work is merely what I do for money. I'll do what I have to, consistently and to the best of my ability. I leave my outside life at the door when I arrive, and leave my work life at work when I leave." When Fry tried to explain this to his friend, all he got was "I'd never hire you for anything with that attitude, not even my fucking janitor's assistant! You gotta man up and be something and someone!"

Now, you really have to know this particular friend to understand the weight of his words. I've known him for nearly the same amount of time as Fry has, and to be honest I've never liked him... he's nothing more than your garden-variety bully. When Fry relayed the conversation to me, I had visions of this asshole's face turning purple while he yelled at Fry, poking his fingers into my buddy's chest with every word. Apart from pissing me off because he's taken a huge chunk out of my best friend's self-esteem, the friend's statements bothered me on a logical level as well. My blood began to boil yet again.

First off, cocksucker, nobody would never work for a psychotic like you. Judging from your words (and past track record from what I understand), you'd be the Boss from Hell - bullying those under you, power-tripping, constantly yelling, and ruling with an iron fist. You'd never be able to keep people, and one day they'll probably find you murdered in your office if you don't have a heart attack, stroke, or aneurysm first.

Second, wrap your tiny little mind around this, stud: not everyone is cut out to be a leader. Not everyone can run a business. Not everyone can delegate responsibility or has the knowledge to pool their resources effectively. Not everyone can inspire their charges to greatness. Not everyone can display sound judgement while making a split second decision. Not everyone can handle the pressure or even the burden of being at the top. And with your own words in mind, who the Hell wants to be watching over their shoulder constantly for other cocksuckers like you who are all too willing to stick the knife in your back at the first opportunity?

Third, what's wrong with being happy with what you do?

I asked Fry to bring the friend along to our next pub night for a polite conversation, since he wouldn't give me the guy's number or address. I doubt he'll do it... but I digress.

Aaaaaanyway, once I finished my beer-with-a-side-order-of-dystemper-and-chest-pounding-hold-the-mayo , I ordered another beer to calm myself down and we continued along on the subject of ambition:

Fry: So does anyone give you grief like that?

SMW: Yeah, on occasion. Not too often, but it happens.

Fry: How do you deal with it?

SMW: I'm usually matter-of-fact and try to present my view in a realistic manner.

Fry: (mockingly) Uh-huh... Specifics?

SMW: Case in point: One of my coworkers asked me where I saw myself in five years time.

Fry: And you told him "Sitting at a cafe in Luxembourg with a married German woman with whom I'm carrying on a steamy affair." (Fry has heard this story so often he can repeat it verbatim. The rest of you can read it here.)

SMW: Nope. This time I told him I'd probably be sitting at this very desk.

Fry: What?

SMW: Yup. He expressed surprise, and asked why I had so little ambition, so I told him that this is merely what I do for money.

Fry: What'd he say to that?

SMW: Believe it or not, he expressed a bit of disappointment that I was wasting my mind and my potential being a mere inside salesman. I told him that in a small branch like ours, there are only three options for advancement: become an outside salesman (requiring him or his partner to quit or get fired, and near-constant travel within the province), become Branch Manager (requiring the boss to quit, retire, or get fired), or transfer to another branch (requiring an out-of-province move and starting at the bottom).

Fry: What did he say to that?

SMW: Not much. He knows I spent a lot of time travelling for my previous employer and grew to hate it. He also knows I'd never screw the boss over, and that if I'm going to relocate, I'm going to move to Europe. He asked me why I stay here, so I told him it's because I like the job, I like our customers and staff, I know what to expect, and there's always something new to learn. That, and it keeps me out of the sort of trouble I get into when I'm left with too much time on my hands.

Fry: He bit, didn't he?

SMW: I thought he might, but no. He asked me what my life's ambition was, since it's not centered around work.

Fry: Oh, shit.

SMW: Yup. He thought I was of the "wife, 1.5 kids, house in the 'burbs" persuasion. I told him I'm a member of the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement. (I'm not, incidentally. For a good read, folks, pick up a copy of "The World Without us" by Alan Weisman)

Fry: I never should have lent you that book...

SMW: Heh, no kidding. He asked about the movement, so I gave him the rundown. I told him I felt it produced results far too slowly for my liking, and that I'd like to accelerate the process artificially if I could find some way to do so... say, by 2012.

Fry: What was his reaction?

SMW: He asked me why I'd want to wipe out mankind. I told him that mankind is a corrupt, immoral race and that it was time to put the fear of God back into people. I wouldn't wipe us all out, just 99.9% of us. I figure I'd arrange things so that the remaining .1% were scattered in little pockets in various far-flung places around the globe, such that they wouldn't encounter each other for at least a hundred years. I'd also ensure the survivors knew why mankind was punished, so they would constantly live in fear that it may happen again should they resume their wicked ways. I'd give them a little reminder every so often to keep 'em on their toes, and would continue to do so until I died.

Fry: Interesting.

SMW: Yeah, I don't think he'll bug me again.

Fry: There's just one thing... your idea won't work.

SMW: Huh?

Fry: If it didn't work for God, how the fuck is it going to work for you? How long after the Flood did it take us to revert to our "sinful, amoral ways"?

SMW: Fuck, you got me!

Fry: Yeah. No more beer for you, Shaun.

SMW: Awww...

Fry: And don't quit your day job.

Snnnnnoooooooowwwwwwww! (also cameras and pizza)

2009-11-29T11:11:00.005-06:00

Sweet Jabba the Hutt!

It finally snowed last night! Woo-hoo!

Well, I shouldn't say "finally", as we had a bit of a dusting about a month ago... but it melted that same day.

Hopefully it's here to stay. Environment Canada's Magic 8-ball is calling for more snow (or the possibility thereof) until next weekend.

In the middle of my street, facing West.
Wish I'd taken this shot a few hours earlier...

I am eagerly awaiting the onset of Winter (can you tell?). I bought a nice pair of skates (my first pair in nearly twenty-five years) and am chomping at the bit to strap on the blades and head to Kildonan Park (or The Forks).

Might even break out the hockey stick and call the mates over for a pickup game...

Truth told, as excited as I am about the prospect of a good skate, the real reason I posted this was to test my newly-repaired Kodak C300 digital camera. I bought a replacement battery door for the camera on eBay a few weeks ago, hoping it would be an easy fix.

It was.

Not twenty minutes after opening the envelope, my camera was fixed.

Now, I suppose I could have gone out and bought a new camera, or stuck with my decade-old Olympus D460Z, but truth told, I have a soft spot for my ol' Kodak. It was my first digital camera, and has travelled nearly everywhere with me... and I still have a lot of accessories specific to the camera which would be rendered useless should I upgrade to another.

That, and the replacement part cost me $5 USD (and twenty minutes of my life), whereas a new camera woulda set me back at least $100... call me sentimental, call me cheap, call me all of the above. With the money I saved, I went out and bought a Kodak camera bag to hold both the C300 and my Printer Dock Plus, also picked up several photo cartridges and 4x6 photo paper for the unit.

"So who cares about so-called 'real photographs' anymore?" you may ask, "Especially in these days of photo blogs and digital picture frames?"

Well, I've anticipated your question this time. My answer to you is "Old people".

The fact of the matter is, neither of my grandmothers (or other elderly relatives) own a computer. We bought my paternal grandmother a digital picture frame loaded with pictures of the family, and I don't think it ever left the box once she got it home. Both are more inclined to open a photo album rather than a photo browser any day of the week... but I digress.

Personally though, I rather like the idea of the digital picture frame. In fact, I'm looking at picking up a couple for myself - one for my desk at work, one for the end table in my living room, and maybe a pocket-sized one for my keychain (for my Gameboy Camera pictures, LOL).

One thing I'd like to see would be a digital poster... like a digital picture frame, but larger (2ft x 3ft viewable area) in scale. That'd be cool.

I've also thought about turning one or more of my old laptops into a digital frame (basically just the screen, logic board, and CF drive), one that could be updated by WIFI or Bluetooth. There are similar hacks out there, but I gotta do it my way.

Speaking of hacks, here's a goodie - how to turn your conventional oven into a 700° pizza oven!

I have to admit, this one looks tempting... I've been toying with the idea of buying a pizza stone, and this idea is just crazy enough to be interesting.

Robert Enke (1977 - 2009)

2009-11-15T10:06:00.003-06:00

Robert Enke
1977 - 2009

Photo source: Wikipedia

Hannover 96 and German National Team goalkeeper commits suicide at age 32.

Rest in Peace, Robert.

Lest We Forget

2009-11-11T18:40:00.002-06:00

I took a little time to remember and to say "Thank You" for allowing me to enjoy the freedom I have today.

Here's a small sampling of pics I shot around 11am today:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=172061&id=657656981&l=b7325af8a7

... and another:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=172067&id=657656981&l=1ebe513a4d

Celebrating die Wende and the Fall of the Berlin Wall

2009-11-09T21:15:00.004-06:00

I'd like to say a few words about the twentieth anniversary of the Fall of the Berlin Wall, but I've been hitting the Jägermeister a bit hard this evening.

So I'll let Steve Naghavi and his bandmates in And One do the talking for me.

and again... (embedding's disabled on this one)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11mvAcZt05U

Danke schön, Steve...

A Blast from the Past (edited 11/02/09)

2009-11-01T11:03:00.007-06:00

There's something about shopping malls that seems to suck the life right out of me.

Yesterday was no exception. After buying my brother a belated birthday lunch at Boston Pizza, we headed on over to Garden City Shopping Center so he could hit the EB Games outlet.

The bloody mall was packed (mostly parents dragging their costumed children from store to store looking for candy) and as such, it was a bit difficult to navigate through the mall...

...especially considering that most (if not all) children lack spatial awareness and are, in general, ignorant of the laws of physics. On a number of occasions, we had to stop suddenly to avoid kids who had also stopped suddenly, the kids crouching down at random intervals to look in their goodie bags...

I can't blame the kids for being excited about Hallowe'en though. Hell, I'm sure my brother and I did the same thing when we were little kids, too.

At any rate, the entire experience left me sapped of energy, so I opted to go home and relax. As there were no interesting soccer matches on TV, and with my chosen internet forums being rather dead, I fired up my most recently acquired shortwave radio to see what I could see (hear what I could hear?).

My most recent acquisition is a Hallicrafters Model S-38A broadcast receiver, a 1946-vintage tube radio. I was in the market for a desktop radio so I could hook up a decent antenna, and given my interest in all things retro, decided upon an older tube-based model.

Hallicrafters Model S-38a, 1946 vintage. The Band Spread knob broke off in shipping.

I love the dual "half-moon" dials. The left one is the main "tuning" dial, the right one is the Band Spread dial, or "fine-tuning" dial... which corresponds to the knob that's been broken off...

I sat at my temporary radio desk in my home office, tuning the upper bands back and forth to see what I could pick up. Heard Radio Canada International on a few different frequencies and in a few different languages, even picked up Radio Nacional Amazonia in Brazil, which I'd never heard previously (not even on my more contemporary radios). After a couple of hours, I started becoming bored, so I tuned the radio to a band which is normally deadsville: the 22 to 25-meter band...

When the dial reached 12160 KHz, I could barely make out a couple of male voices. I tried to tune my active antenna and... who should I hear, but Bud Abbott and Lou Costello!

12160KHz is a frequency used by religious/paranoid nutjob broadcaster WWCR, who broadcast a show called "The Golden Age of Radio" every Saturday at 2200UTC. Now, I love old-time radio, so of course I listened to the remainder of the show (a good 45 minutes). Abbott and Costello's routine (originally broadcast in 1951) lasted until 4:30, after which came "The Archie Andrews Show", based on the Archie comics series but sounding more like "Leave It To Beaver meets The Great Gildersleeves"...

I couldn't help feeling a tad disappointed when the show ended... it was fun listening to radio programs originally broadcast when my radio was still relatively new. As though this was how these shows were meant to be heard... played at low fidelity on an old tube radio.

One thing's for sure... I'll be there next week - same time, same channel.

Yesterday being Hallowe'en, I think it would have been cool for them to have played Orson Welles' infamous War of the Worlds broadcast... but I guess we can't have everything.

** If you're a fan of old-time radio, you'd do well to check out Radio 1710 Antioch, who play a wide variety of old-time radio favourites.

Announcing: My Retirement

2009-10-28T11:45:00.004-05:00

After nearly sixteen long, eventful (and verbose) years, I have decided to retire my nickname.

No longer will I be known as Conceited Jerk.

It's been a good run, but CJ's best days are behind him now. Add to the fact that there are more people (mostly teenage brats) using the name, I figured it was time to move on.

Sooooo... from here on in, I'm writing this blog under my own (real) name.

Regards,
Shaun M. Wheeler.

Pass the Pepto, or Bringing Up the Past

2009-10-16T14:22:00.002-05:00

So, my iMac 400dv died last weekend, taking with it twenty gigabytes worth of music. All that time spent ripping my CD collection over the years was for nought, and the backups I'd made are nowhere to be found.

*sigh*

Ah well, back to square one. This time however, when I re-rip my collection, I'm going to encode my tunes into an open format such as OGG Vorbis.

--

Until I set my Linux box back up and start ripping my music again, I'll have to listen to (gasp) actual CDs!

Of course, I haven't owned an honest-to-God CD player in years, so I dug my trusty ol' CDTV out from the depths of the lab and set it up in my living room.

Damn, I've missed this machine! I've forgotten how much better original CDs sound compared to your average digital music file.

While setting the CDTV up, I noticed a number of floppy disks at the bottom of the box... as the CDTV has been in storage for the last, er, decade... naturally I had no idea what was on the disks.

As it turns out, the disks (thirty-six in total) contained nothing but text files of my writing, some dating back to 1992!

I read through a few disks worth of material, and just about pissed myself laughing...

With that in mind, while I'm in the process of ripping my CDs, I'll be going through these text files, converting them from Textcraft format to a more contemporary format, and posting some of the better ones here under the label "Vintage CJ", starting 10/19/09.

Have a great weekend, folks!

Levantine vs. Lunchpail: Round 1

2009-09-19T21:46:00.006-05:00

I've been on a Middle Eastern/Levantine/Mediterranean kick lately.

I don't know if it was because of the Ouzo I've been drinking lately or side-effect of all those bloody Donairs I've eaten over the last week, but I've spontaneously developed a taste for Arabic music.

I have the odd Arabic piece in my music collection, but it's not enough. Today, I craved more. So, off to the music store I went. I did what I always do when I'm interested in a hitherto unknown variety of music - looked for a "Various Artists" sampler.

I found what I wanted in The Rough Guide to Arabic Cafe

It's a pretty good sampler (as samplers go), but after listening to it a couple of times this morning, I felt I needed more.

So, off to Into The Music to see what I could find.

Long story short, I spent waaaaaay more money than I intended (which cuts into my Ouzo and Donair funding), but walked out with a few gems: Two albums by Rabih Abou-Khalil (Yara and The Sultan's Picnic), and one entitled "Claude Challe presents Near Eastern Lounge: The R.E.G. Project" which was my favourite of the bunch.

(Also picked up a couple of Skinny Puppy and My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult albums, too, but they're largely irrelevant to this story)

Near Eastern Lounge blends traditional Near-Eastern/Levantine music with contemporary electronic music, and the result is absolutely mindblowing. Follow this link for an example.

Suffice it to say, I am absolutely in love with this album - so much so that I listened to it on my patio this evening, while enjoying a nice cigar and cold glass of Ouzo.

Not six songs in, I hear someone open my back gate. I took a peek, and saw that it was one of the knuckle-dragging low-forehead types from one of the moderate-turnover rental houses down and across the back lane.

He lumbers into my yard (uninvited, I might add), looks at me, points to ~~that magic box what makes noise~~ my cd player and grunts "That your radio?"

"Yes," I replied as civilly as I could, "That my radio. What you want?"

He stared at me for a second, not quite realizing that I'm making fun of him. When his train of thought finally boards and leaves the station, he shouts, "Turn that fucking (racial epithet for Pakistani) shit off!"

I looked at him and said calmly, "It's not Pakistani, it's Lebanese."

"Same shit," was the wise response, "Turn that shit off!"

I wondered if this guy took Geography in school. Hell, I wonder if this guy even went to school... but no time for speculation...

"Fuck off," I yelled, "and get the fuck out of my yard!" I've been through similar situations before, and have learned (through the courts, I might add) not to threaten - or resort to - violence, so I chose my words carefully.

He grunted something, then tried to push past me to get at my cd player. I resisted the urge to punch him in the throat or grind my drinking glass into his face - instead, I put my arm out and blocked his passage.

"Listen up, caveman," I said, "If you wanted me to turn it down, you just had to ask. Maybe even use the word 'Please'."

"What the fuck?" he said defensively, "I did ask you!"

"No, you ordered me," I clarified, "and NOBODY orders me around on my own fucking property. Now take a hike before I call the fucking cops."

"For what?!" he screamed.

"Trespassing," I said, "and I could have you charged with attempted theft, and possibly assault for trying to shove me."

He swore a couple of times, made a couple of monosyllabic comments, slammed my gate, and left. I poured myself another glass of Ouzo and picked up where I left off. The two hours that followed were markedly uneventful.

Thus ends the first day of my two-week vacation.

... causing undue stress on the topography of the Province of Manitoba

2009-09-11T11:40:00.009-05:00

I've been noticing that I seem to be slowing down lately.

I come home from my usual walkabouts sweaty and out of breath, when ordinarily I wouldn't even break a sweat. A walk to my corner store can wear me out on a bad day. I seem to be feeling the heat more than normal as well...

I noticed yesterday, as I was getting ready for my friend's dad's funeral, that neither my suit jacket nor dress pants fit. "Must have shrunk 'em in the wash..." I thought. Took me a second to remember - I always had these dry-cleaned...

The long-and-short of it is: I'm getting fat.

Three years ago, when I was promoted from Warehouse Manager to Inside Sales, I weighed 180lbs. After three years at a desk job, I'm tipping the scales at 225lbs.

Forty-five fucking pounds in three years.

I mentioned the weight gain to my pal "Miz P" while walking back from a Sandbox outing, and her jaw dropped... and further still when I mentioned my hypertension...

At that point, I told myself I'd "look into" dieting.

Monday, it became less an option and more a necessity. Monday, I found out that the aforementioned friend's dad had been felled by a massive heart attack.

This got me thinking. Many of the men in my family, some of whom were overweight (but not obese per se), have died from some form of heart trouble - heart attacks, strokes, angina, arrythmia, etc, and heart disease and Diabetes run in my dad's family... so I have a rather large incentive to get my weight (and my health) in proper order.

Guess I've finally opened my eyes. Knee-jerk reaction? You bet. But better safe than sorry.

The diet started Monday, the fitness regimen starts tomorrow at the company golf tournament (not taking a cart!).

The Summer That Wasn't

2009-09-01T08:30:00.007-05:00

So, it's September.

The mornings are getting colder, the coffee's tasting better, and my morning bus is crammed with school kids (Red River College students mostly).

With only three weeks left until Autumn, the question I'm hearing from everyone is "Where did Summer go?"

Summer's gone, kids. Dead and buried. Lament not the untimely passing of the season (in other words, quit your fuckin' whining!).

In addition to the near-constant whining, I'm getting sick of people playing "Armchair Meteorologist". We have an unseasonably cool, wet summer and all of a sudden everyone's a climate change expert. Please.

Let us embrace the coming of Autumn.

Speaking of summer being over, I thought I'd take a bit to reflect on my time away from the blogosphere. All things considered, I had a pretty productive summer despite my financial problems (no mad money = no mad science).

To recap:

Microwave Gun: My fascination with directed-energy weapons (yes, it's supposed to be hyphenated) came to a head when I discovered plans for a cheap microwave gun (aka maser). Of course, these "plans" didn't include any sort of safety precautions for the user, and failed to take into consideration that the gun's target might actually be moving. So, I started tweaking the design (on paper, CSIS, on paper) and came up with a vastly improved design that could be built rather inexpensively (comparatively speaking) using a 10000 watt commercial microwave oven available on eBay.

Unfortunately, my secret weapon was not to be. Funny thing about microwaves... they reflect off of metal. In order to penetrate metal (and further increase the destructive power of my "North End WMD") I'd need to combine the microwave energy with charged particles (say, hydrogen), which is a bit beyond my capabilities at present. So, as it stands, I'd have one heck of an anti-personnel weapon, but it'd be essentially useless against anything else... The project withered on the vine.

Shortwave Radio: I ordered a new radio, a Redsun RP2100, and have been having a blast listening to a number of stations my little Kchibo KK-9803 can't pick up (such as Radio Damascus), or picks up weakly (such as Deutsche Welle). The sound from the RP2100 is phenomenal, and can literally fill a room... and a neighbourhood, much to my neighbours' chagrin. Then again, I imagine they're getting used to such things by now. I can't tell you how many weird looks I get while listening to Radio Havana Cuba or Radio Damascus as I do my yardwork...

I also picked up a couple of add-ons for the RP2100 - a SSB (single side band) decoder, which lets me listen in to Ham traffic (et cetera) , and a DRM (Digital Radio Mondiale) adapter, which lets me listen to digital shortwave broadcasts. Fun fun fun. Gotta do something when you have no internet at home. Been taking my smaller SW radio (the aforementioned Kchibo KK-9803) with me a lot (when I'm out for a walk, sitting around at The Forks, etc) too. What can I say, I'm hooked!

Computers: Believe it or not, I took a break from computers in general. Instead, I opted to spend the few nice (and some of the not-so-nice) days we had outdoors, fishing, chasing women, or walking around the park. Of course, I needed something to do on the rainy & miserable days, so I spent a little bit of time resurrecting Cinq, my Sun Ultra 5 workstation that had previously died a death that can only be described as "spectacularily horrible". Removed what was left of the PSU, replaced with one that was salvaged from a (blarg) Windows PC, and threw in a new hard drive. Runs like a champ.

Women: Spent a bit of time chasing women. Caught a couple. Threw 'em back.

Speakeasy: No work was done on the Speakeasy. No money for tools or materials. Work is slated to begin in the spring when I will have money.

Alcohol: Surprisingly, I took a break from my usual experimentations in this regard (and mixed drinks in general). I did try a few new beers, but nothing that'll make it into regular rotation. Ended up sticking with my usual Gulden Draak, Guinness, Erdinger, and/or Paulaner.

Career: Was asked to contribute to no less than three fledgling magazines! Not mentioning names (yet) as nothing's been finalized, but if all goes well, I'll be a published writer again. Not quitting the day job just yet, though...

It's been a busy month-and-a-half. Summer has come and gone, and I'm looking forward to a great Autumn. I'm looking forward to blogging semi-regularily as well.

Incidentally, there may be a surprise coming in the next couple of months... but we'll deal with that when the time comes :)

The Best Hack I've Ever Seen

2009-08-20T15:59:00.002-05:00

I admit I've never been interested in the "case mod" subculture, but this is easily, without a doubt, the best hardware mod I've ever seen...

http://steampunkworkshop.com/victorian-all-one-pc

Take Action / Speak Out On Copyright

2009-08-14T13:28:00.002-05:00

Just received this from the EFF:

--
Last month, the Canadian government launched public consultations on the future
of copyright legislation in the digital age for the first time since 2001. The
government is seeking Canadians' input on why copyright matters, how copyright
laws can be sustainable for the knowledge economy, and what reforms the
government should prioritize. Show your support for balanced copyright laws that
encourage Internet freedom by submitting your comments online before September
13, 2009.

http://www.speakoutoncopyright.ca/copyright-take-action

Despite Canada's public response to the excesses of C-61 over the past few
years, powerful lobbyists for the Canadian Recording Industry Association (CRIA)
and the Canadian Motion Picture Distributors Association (CMPDA) are demanding
even stronger copyrights and harsher penalties in order to impose their aging
business models on the Internet. They're demanding that the government ban
citizens suspected of file-sharing from the Internet; they're demanding more
threatening penalties for web innovators; and they're seeking levies on private
copying.

Now is the time to participate in this important public debate about the role of
copyright for freedom and innovation. Take action at copyright expert Michal
Geist's "Speak Out on Copyright" website, and show that you care about freedom
online.

Take action at the "Speak Out on Copyright" website:
http://www.speakoutoncopyright.ca/copyright-take-action

--
I don't/shouldn't need to tell you why this is important.

Hunger Hits Detroit's Middle Class

2009-08-12T15:42:00.003-05:00

While I'm enjoying my time away from the 'sphere, I had to post a link to this article detailing Detroit's growing food crisis.

Hunger hits Detroit's middle class

This was of particular interest to me, as I spent some time working in Detroit (and later Flint, MI) and still have friends there...

Gone Fishin'

2009-07-20T10:21:00.004-05:00

Sayonara, folks,

I'm spending the rest of the summer away from the computer(s). Life's too short and the weather's too nice to be stuck in the blogosphere.

I'm off to chase women, enjoy the great outdoors, and maybe even work on the Speakeasy if time and/or money permit.

Have a great summer!

** Incidentally, I've made a few changes... points to the first person to spot 'em!

On Spatial Awareness and the Latest Gadgets

2009-07-13T08:10:00.003-05:00

I always have mixed emotions about stories like this.

It's not a new story, I've blogged about similar stories before, and I alternately snicker at their carelessness and shake my head and worry about the future of mankind.

Hopefully, they'll get themselves killed in fine Darwinian form before they can reproduce.

Back in Time... Again

2009-07-01T10:41:00.001-05:00

I bit the bullet, and I've entered in this year's Retrochallenge again.

For those who are interested, my RC'09 blog will be hosted at my old site.

For those who aren't, stick around. I'll still be updating C&S with my usual drivel throughout the month. I also have a surprise for you come August...

Anyhow, I'm off to enjoy Canada Day.

An Angel Returns to Heaven

2009-06-26T11:02:00.005-05:00

If Michael Jackson's music evokes happier times in my life, then Farrah Fawcett evokes scenes of death by fiery retribution.

"I'll never pick on girls again!", I said wide-eyed.

It was 1984. My mom and I had just finished watching the world premiere of "The Burning Bed" on TV. It definitely left an impression, and permanently changed my attitude toward women. Which is why, I suspect, she let me stay up past my bedtime to watch it.

Good on her.

Its star, Farrah Fawcett, lost her battle with cancer yesterday.

Rest in Peace, Farrah.

See also: Mr. C!

The King is Dead. Long Live the King.

2009-06-26T09:14:00.006-05:00

I remember the first time I heard the name Michael Jackson.

"Is he a baseball player?" I asked my friend Martin Ruppel.

It was 1983, and I was more concerned with filling my hockey sticker album and playing my Atari than I was with the music world.

"No, stupid," Martin said, "He's a singer. You know...'Beeeeaaaat iiiiiiitt, beeeeaaaat iiiiiiiitt!'? That guy."

"Oh, him," came my enthusiastic reply.

Martin and I were neighbours. We hung out nearly every day during the summer holidays, which we spent playing board games, riding bikes, swapping hockey stickers & cards, and Atari games, and more importantly, listening to music.

The radio played constantly at Martin's house. With the album Thriller having topped the charts, with many hit singles off that album, it also meant that Michael Jackson played constantly at Martin's house. Of course, in short order we knew all the words to every song...

At my birthday party that year, my dad rented a VCR and the Thriller video. It was a blast... imagine a room full of ten-year olds, hopped up on sugar, clumsily trying to emulate the King of Pop's moves!

In 1983, what kid didn't want to be Michael Jackson? That Christmas saw a lot of sparkly gloves, red leather jackets (covered in vestigial zippers), and instructional videos on how to "moonwalk" appear under the Christmas trees of my friends. There were moonwalking contests at school, both impromptu schoolyard affairs and officially sanctioned contests in the school gym. Kids were warned they weren't allowed to wear their sparkly gloves while school was in session, and any-and-all Walkmans (Walkmen?) would be confiscated until the end of the school year.

"Weird Al" Yankovic's parody "Eat it" came out not long after, which took my elementary school by storm. I remember I was eating lunch at Martin's house when I first heard the song. Martin had just made us some corned beef & mozzarella sandwiches and was bringing them to the living room when the song came on. He grabbed a sandwich and started eating it while singing along with the radio, hopping on the furniture like a ten-year old Tom Cruise. I never laughed so hard in my life.

Twenty-six years on, and I remember it like it were yesterday.

I was listening to my shortwave radio last night. The portable antenna I bought arrived in the mail yesterday, and I was keen to try it out. Wow, what a difference from the antenna I'd made from an alligator clip, fish hook, and speaker wire! Most stations were coming in clear as day, and I was able to pick up (however faintly) stations I'd never heard.

I thought it odd that a Bolivian station would be playing Billie Jean in the middle of the night, but shrugged it off. It's still one of my favourite songs (love that bassline!).

Spinning the dial further, I caught the name "Michael Jackson" in the midst of a Chinese broadcast. Wow, weird coincidence.

I caught snippets of Billie Jean on a couple of more stations, and the full enormity of it hit me when I found Radio New Zealand International. The King of Pop has passed on. Cardiac arrest at age 50, just before his world tour.

I was stunned. Wow, Michael Jackson is dead... it's hard to believe, but it's true.

I'm not sure how I feel. On one hand, his music reminds me of a happier, more innocent period in my life. On the other hand, I remember the person he became later in life. Whether troubled, ill, or perverse, "Wacko Jacko" was too weird for words, and an object of much scorn and derision.

I guess I want to remember him the way he was when I was ten. Michael Jackson's Thriller still evokes memories of happier times of bike rides and best friends, of bad dance moves and worse fashion, and for that, Michael, I say thank you.

Out of respect for the deceased, comments are closed. If you want to make pedophile jokes, do it on your own fucking blog. You know who you are.

Scream, bloody murder!

2009-06-21T15:06:00.006-05:00

So, I'm on holidays for the next eight days. I intend to spend that time getting back at nature.

That's right, getting back at nature.

Not having a pile of money at my disposal, I elected to spend my week off work at home, doing my yardwork, playing with the cats, cleaning the house, and barbecuing with my buddies.

Things went well until 5:30am Saturday.

Ethin woke me up at 5:30 in anticipation of his daily 6am feeding. Ugh. I got up, shook the cobwebs loose, walked to the bathroom, stepped in a hairball, put my contacts in, walked to the cupboard, and remembered I was supposed to buy cat food the previous night.

My little gray buddy was getting a tad impatient. Here it was, five minutes before din-dins time, and no food to be had. So, I had to run to Mac's to buy him a tin of the "cheap stuff". Off I went.

As some of you know, I live in West Kildonan. One of the most prominent (and spectacular) features of West K are its trees. Thousands of beautiful green trees, in the parks, in yards, and lining both sides of our streets. Thousands of trees also means thousands of those fuckin' cankerworms hanging down at sidewalk or street level - just enough to cover a pedestrian in webs and crawling worms...

By the time I reached Mac's, I was covered head-to-toe with the fuckin' things. They were in my hair, on (and in) my shirt, everywhere. I vowed to have another shower once I got home...

I grabbed the cat food, a newspaper, and a cup of coffee at Mac's, then psyched myself up for the walk home. I walked along the street instead of the sidewalk to minimize contact with the worms (it didn't help)... and once I reached my street, a whole new problem developed.

Something whizzed past my head.

I heard a loud "caw", then it whizzed past my head again, cawing as it went.

I looked around, and caught sight of a big black shape less than a foot from my head - then I felt it claw my shoulder.

It was the grandaddy of all crows.

This bird was HUGE! And it was out for blood!

My first instinct was to wait for it to attack again, and hit it when it got close... but it quickly dawned on me that the bird was probably trying to protect its nest.

I turned my back on the crow, and calmly (but cautiously) resumed walking the remaining half-block home. It buzzed me a couple more times, but nowhere near as close as it had before... confirming my suspicions about a nest.

I got home (dropping my coffee on the landing's carpet in the process), fed Ethin (who showed his displeasure by pooping on my bedroom carpet while I was out), and headed to the bathroom to grab that second shower (I was covered in cankerworms). The crow's attack left little more than a scratch on my shoulder, but I dabbed a little Polysporin on the wound, just in case. These things kill rats with their claws, y'know!

I thought briefly of suiting up and exacting swift and brutal revenge on the crow, but gave my head a shake and decided that avenging my wounded pride by taking out a mere bird would make me look pretty damned stupid... besides, it was probably protecting its young.

Anyhow, life marches on, and that yardwork ain't gonna do itself (as history has shown).

Out of respect for my neighbours (and certain noise bylaws), I grabbed my push-mower and sickle, so the sound of me doing my yardwork wouldn't wake everyone up. A nice gesture perhaps, but the Heavens have decreed that no good deed shall go unpunished... as I trimmed the tree-like dandelions at the side of my house (some were three feet tall!), I realized a bit too late that the alarm cable running to my garage had become unburied at some point over the winter...

(snip!)

The resulting cacophony woke the whole neighbourhood. Barely 6:30am, and I'm public enemy number one (which, incidentally, normally takes until noon!). After calling the monitoring company (and later explaining to two of Winnipeg's Finest what had transpired), I went back to my yardwork.

The yardwork went smoothly after that. I grabbed the garden hose to give the yard & patio a good rinse, only to have the spraygun self-destruct in my hand (soaking me in the process).

What a day! And it's only 7am at this point!

"That does it!" I yelled, and stormed off into the house to towel off. I made a mental note to head to Canadian Tire around 10am to buy a new spraygun... To kill a bit of time, I flipped on the shortwave radio. I figured it'd be deadsville (as daytime propagation is supposedly limited in this neck of the woods), but was able to pick up a few stations such as Radio Marti, Radio Havana, and China Radio International.

10am rolled around, and I hopped the bus to Garden City Shopping Center. Hit the Salvation Army Thrift store first, nearly got hit a couple of times in the parking lot (women driving while talking on their cellphones), and headed to Canadian Tire.

I swear, the place was absofuckinglutely packed with people - as though all of Winnipeg were there.

"Hmmph," I scoffed out loud, "They must have a sale on!", which got me the usual stares.

Now, I hate crowds with a passion unbrided by reason, so I tried to find the Home & Garden section as quickly as I could (they've remodeled & reorganized). I found what I was after, grabbed it, and made my way to the cashiers' area, hoping to beat the rest of the city there.

En route, I heard someone yell "Hey buddy!". I ignored it, thinking they were calling someone else.

"Hey, Schweini!" called the voice.

"Schweini" is the nickname of Bayern Munich's midfielder Bastian Schweinsteiger, my favourite footballer, whose jersey I just happened to be wearing at the time... noting that the shout was meant for me, I stopped, turned around, and saw a man running toward me.

"Where did you get that jersey?" he asked.

"FC Bayern's website!" I lied proudly (actually bought it on eBay. I think it's a knock-off.).

"Are you a Bayern fan?" he asked.

"Oh yeah!", I said excitedly, "They're my favourite team!" (They are.)

"Mine too," he added.

Turns out, Jurgen started Winnipeg's Bayern Munich fan club, and they get together Saturday mornings for breakfast, and to watch the Bayern matches. He spoke excitedly of going to Bayern's training ground in Munich, meeting the players (including Schweinsteiger), and asked me if I ever planned to go to Munich. I told him "it's in the works", and he told me that since they're an official fan club, to let him know and they'd make the necessary arrangements to have me visit the training grounds in session! We exchanged numbers, and I'm gonna be joining the fan club.

As you can imagine, having a dream come that much closer to coming true does wonders for one's mood. It almost made me forget about the day's prior events.

Feeling sorta celebratory, I hopped the bus and headed home. The fuckin' crow was waiting for me - buzzed me a couple of times, but not as close as he had before... looking up to jeer at the bird, I noticed he had a gang of followers - a murder of at least six slightly smaller crows, all perched on or near the same tree, at the foot of which lay the body of a large grey squirrel - left as a warning to the rest of us. My suspicions, it seems, were confirmed... they're protecting their nest.

Which put further the kibosh on thoughts of revenge. I did have thoughts of staging a guerilla-theatre version of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds, but it'd have to be a one-off, one-time only event.

Another thought crossed my mind with some amusement. Usually, there are several skaters who hang out at this particular streetcorner, who can usually be seen falling on their respective asses while trying out some stunt on their skateboards. I haven't seen them around for a couple of weeks... I wonder if the crows have scared them off? (Good crows!)

I also noticed how quiet it was in the neighbourhood. It's noon by this point, and usually by noon on Saturday, the children a few houses west of me are out playing in the street, with their shrill-voiced mother a short distance away.

Usually, the mother sends the kids out when she's doing her yardwork ("Okay kids, go play in traffic, and I'll call you when it's time to come home!"), but not yesterday. I thought, "Meh, they probably went away for the weekend."

I found out from my neighbour (aka the neighbourhood gossip) that these same crows have been attacking the neighbourhood kids throughout the week, and that Animal Services have been called a couple of times. Until then, the kids have to stay inside, or in their back yard.

Cool, this means I can grab my lounger and sit on my front lawn, drinking a beer and basking in the sun without having to listen to a bunch of screaming kids all day (and believe me, they do scream all day). So I dragged out the barbecue, threw on a few European weiners, grabbed my lounger, an ice-cold sixpack of Paulaner, and my shortwave radio, and basked in the sun until dinner.

And after dinner.

And all day today, until I head over to my parents' place for a Fathers' Day get-together.

Beer, sun, and peace & quiet. Does it get better than this?

Will I ever complain about the crows again? Quoth the raven, "Nevermore"*.

God bless you, murder of crows! Stay as long as you want!

*(CJ's note: Yes, as a matter of fact, I was waiting to use that line.)

A Musical Interlude

2009-06-17T12:32:00.006-05:00

I'm in the middle of writing an excessively long diatribe about a certain social issue, to be posted tomorrow or Friday.

In the meantime, have a listen to the newly crowned Official Theme Song of C&S.

It was a tough decision, but Ganymed won in the end. The runner up is:

C&S would also like to take a moment to observe the 547th anniversary of The Night Attack. Vlad always had balls...

What's the Frequency, CJ? Part 2

2009-06-12T09:15:00.005-05:00

So, my el-cheapo AM/FM/SW portable radio (a Kchibo KK-9803) arrived from Hong Kong last night. In terms of entertainment value, it's paid for itself at least a couple times over.

My expectations weren't that high, performance-wise. I was expecting decent AM/FM reception and SW reception that was mediocre at best. I figured, at best, I'd pick up the usual assortment of Christian stations, and maybe a few Spanish-language broadcasts from the west coast of the US.

Well, I DID receive both. I tuned into one of the clearer Spanish stations and heard the name "Morales" a lot. "OK," I thought, "This is probably a news program from California or nearby Mexico, and they're probably referring to Evo Morales, president of Bolivia".

I was half right. I listened to the station for about fifteen minutes - the program was indeed referring to President Evo Morales, but the show was being broadcast live from La Paz, Bolivia. Cool! But my Spanish ain't that good, so I spun the dial a bit more.

In the hour that followed, I picked up a few more Spanish-language stations of indeterminate origin, a number of Christian broadcasts, a faint signal in a language that sounded like Russian, a time station, a faint American newscast, and then came the payoff.

At 9:15pm, at 11665MHz came the following:

"pzsszszszzzzttt...(feminine laughter)...arigatou gozaimashita!"

A Japanese broadcast. "Alright!" I screamed, "This is what I was after!"

And it's true. When I decided to dive into the world of shortwave, I was mainly interested in picking up Japanese radio stations, in order to further my knowledge of the language. Finding NHK Radio was probably the most exciting thing to happen to me in days! However, I wasn't expecting to find one quite so quickly.

So I listened for an hour or so, then decided to turn in for the night. Finding NHK Radio was a rather exciting experience... but like I said, I hadn't expected to find my Holy Grail so quickly. I couldn't help feeling a bit empty (as success normally does), as though I'd "shot my load" rather early in the act.

I thought about it a bit more over my morning coffee. I guess the saving grace will be the element of chance inherent in the nature of shortwave communications itself - the fact that, owing to various circumstances, the station might not be there tonight. Case in point: I brought my radio with me this morning, and on the way to the bus stop, NHK wasn't there. Nothin' but static... I picked up a Chinese-language broadcast on an adjacent band though - a broadcast that wasn't there twelve hours previous!

Long distance communications (especially those not intended for your geographical location) are affected by all manner of things, such as weather conditions, time of day, atmospheric (ionospheric) conditions, sunspots, even conditions in space... meaning that circumstances can and will conspire against me and my little radio.

Which is alright in my book. The element of chance is what will keep me interested in SWLing.

Speaking of interesting, my prime targets right now are foreign newscasts. It's cool listening to things almost as they happen - and not have to be glued to a computer screen. I've been trying to pick up the Voice of Iran so I can follow their election, but haven't had much success... so far. Building an antenna would help (as would brushing up on Farsi), but I'm not that ambitious yet. I want to explore this radio's capabilities before going apeshit on add-ons.

I have a feeling it's going to be an interesting weekend, involving several foreign language dictionaries, and even more coffee...

Panhandlers and Jerks, or Set'em Up and Knock 'em Down!

2009-06-08T20:54:00.006-05:00

So I'm walking along Graham Avenue the other afternoon, and as I reached the bus stop at Darwin's Corner, I'm stopped by one of the usual suspects who asked me if I could spare some change.

Now, I've been coming downtown virtually every day since I was eleven years old (that's just over twenty-five years, for those of you playing along at home) and as such have learned how to deal with the drunks and panhandlers one encounters while downtown. To me, they're a part of the flora and/or fauna (dependant on whether or not they're conscious), part of the experience if you will, and virtually unavoidable.

I admit that in the past, I've been less than polite with some of them (downright rude on occasion) and can be rather abrupt when I'm in a foul mood, but over the last ten years or so I've tried to be as civil as I can be, which (Lord help me) can be a rather onerous task when dealing with some of the more aggressive panhandlers.

Over the course of this civility, I've gotten to know a couple of the "usual suspects" who seem to haunt my haunts, and am on a first name basis (or rather nickname basis) with a couple more. The neat part of this is that they'll occasionally come up to me just to chat, with no talk of a "donation" at all. The downside is becoming friendly with certain individuals, only to see them passed out drunk (or high) in a back lane, bus shelter, or planter the next day.

So, as I'm walking toward my bus stop the other afternoon, my "buddy" "Steve" sees me, calls out "CJ!" and trots over.

"Hey bro!" he says to me, "can you help me out with some change? I'm trying to get to Kildonan Place."

"Yeah, I think I have some," I say, reaching into my pocket, "I have a twonie you're welcome to..."

"Awww, thanks bro!" he smiled, "That's another one I owe you!", then ran up Graham towards Vaughan, completely oblivious to the fact the Kildonan Place bus was waiting directly beside him... which amused me to no end.

I laughed and shook my head. Good ol' "Steve".

Witnessing the whole scene was the only other individual at the stop with us - a dour looking guy in (probably) his early fifties.

"Why did you give him money?" he demanded of me, "It just encourages them, and he's probably buying drugs right now!"

Now, my first instinct was to belt him one in the face and scream, "Don't you ever fucking question me again!", but ultimately decided it'd be more fun to talk down to him.

"I don't usually give them money," I explained, "but he caught me in a good mood."

"Humph. Really?" he scoffed.

"It's absolutely true." I said.

"I normally just tell them to fuck off," he sneered, "and to get a job!"

This guy's really pissing me off, and I want to hit him, but I switch tactics and try my best "Live and Let Live" act.

"And you know, mate?", I said, "I used to think the same way. There were times I'd get bugged for money twice by the same guy - on the same block within a couple of minutes! My record was getting asked for change nine times in three blocks!" - (which is true, by the way)

"Fuuuuuck!" came his witty response.

"Exactly," I added, humouring him, "It used to annoy the shit outta me."

"And it doesn't now?" he asked suspiciously.

"Not really," I answered nonchalantly

"Oh, bullshit," he again scoffed.

"Seriously, mate", I said seriously.

"Well what changed?" he inquired skeptically.

"I remembered an old saying, 'Never judge a man 'til you've walked a mile in his moccasins.'" I replied.

"Yeah uh-huh," came another brilliant remark.

"I'm serious," I calmly explained, "It's only due to the choices I've made in life that I'm where I am now, and not stuck begging for change on a streetcorner."

"Hmm," he said.

"If things had gone horribly wrong," I continued calmly, "that could easily have been me. So I try to look at things from that perspective. I mean, how would I feel about having to ask someone for a handout, to eat my dinners at a mission or soup kitchen, or worse yet, a dumpster? To rely on the ever-dwindling generosity of strangers in these cynical times, just to buy something to eat, or to feed an addiction that's ruined my life?"

His features softened a little.

I continued, "We often forget there's a very human, very personal cost to this sort of abject poverty. I mean, I'm a proud man, and I'd have to be at rock bottom to even consider begging for change. Do you have any idea how long it would take me to work up the nerve to ask a complete stranger for change that first time? Knowing that that first person may very well be an ignorant, judgemental cocksucker at a time when my self-esteem is already very low?"

He seemed to understand, his face showing a bit of humanity.

"I never thought of it like that..." he said softly.

"Well, it's a sad reality," I explained, "but over time, they develop a sort-of sixth sense about who's cool and who's the ignorant, judgemental cocksucker!"

"Heh," he laughed, "Do you think..?"

"Absolutely!" I said, flashing an evil grin, "Case in point: There are two people standing at this bus stop. Which one of us did he ask?"

It took him a couple of seconds to catch on. When he did, the look on his face was priceless.

Some days, it's all too easy - like shooting fish in a barrel.

What's the frequency, CJ?

2009-06-02T11:27:00.010-05:00

(CJ's note: I have to apologize for the lack of real "flow" in this post - I have a migraine coming on, so I've taken a few T3s and am getting a bit loopy. Good thing it's a slow day here at work!)

I have a(nother) new hobby. I've dived headfirst into the world of DXing - essentially trying to find distant stations on my radio.

I've toyed with the idea for a few years now, initially when I discovered my favourite radio show was available over shortwave in addition to the internet. I opted to listen via live stream or podcast instead, and enjoyed it immensely. Of course, that option is no longer available to me, now that I no longer have an internet connection at home (unless I wait for my neighbours to go away for the weekend, so I can use their WIFI connection surreptitiously... heh heh heh!).

Not long ago, my good buddy Jim revealed that he's been DXing the AM band for thirty years. I filed his post away in the back of my mind, and put it to good use this weekend.

For the last couple of months, I've been trolling the second-hand and thrift stores for a used shortwave radio and, while I haven't had any luck, this weekend I found an odd AM/FM radio can also tune the aviation, public, and weather bands... all for $3.99! So, I took a chance, took the radio home, extended the antennae, plugged it in and... static-y voices. I was tuned into a Catholic talk radio channel originating in North Dakota. It was nearing the top of the hour, so I waited a couple of minutes for the station identification. It was 1370 KWTL in Grand Forks. I grabbed a piece of scrap paper and noted the frequency, call sign, and city, then slowly started turning the dial...

I did this for a couple of hours (the reception on this radio is nothing short of phenomenal!), and ended up falling asleep to AM 1500 (KSTP) in St. Paul, MN, who were replaying older broadcasts (circa 1995) of a talk show whose name escapes me.

I'm hooked.

I've been DXing whenever I have a spare bit of time, and have been solidly entertained. In the absence of (ethical) internet access, I gotta do something to stay informed. Despite being a music buff, I find myself listening to a lot of talk radio. Weird.

Knowing me as well as I do, though, I'll be as bored of the American perspective as I am of the Canadian perspective (concerning current world issues) in short order. Thus, I purchased an inexpensive shortwave receiver from one of my reliably dodgy Hong Kong contacts (for $15 shipped) so I can hear things from an international perspective... in a limited capacity, until I can afford a more powerful receiver... and antenna... and amplifier... and so on...

Now, I wouldn't dive headfirst into hitherto unknown territory without doing my own due diligence.

I've been reading a couple of blogs related to shortwave listening (SWLing), as well as a couple of print magazines dedicated to the activity. I've learned a few very basic concepts, and have a pretty good idea of what I'm getting myself into, and perhaps most importantly how much I can expect to spend.

A decent shortwave receiver (new) will likely set me back a couple hundred bucks, while an antenna won't likely set me back much, as I can probably bastardize something myself with minimal financial outlay. However, at a time when money is tight (most of my incoming funds are earmarked for a certain project), I suspect I'll be making do with the el cheapo unit I bought from Hong Kong for at least another year. No biggie, as I'm not sure how serious I want to take SWLing.

I certainly have no intention of becoming an amateur radio hobbyist (HAM radio), I'm solely interested in different cultures, and "the foreign perspective" concerning today's world. I'm sick of TV and the internet (and bored with computers in general), so I figured "Why not take a step back in time, and do what your average hobbyist/geek did in the days before personal computers?"

Besides, it'll give me something to do when I'm not writing, chasing women, drinking, and/or working on the Speakeasy...

Yeaaaahhh! Barcelona Win the Champions League Finals!

2009-05-27T15:41:00.002-05:00

Yes!

Barça have done it! They've beaten Manchester United's 25-game unbeaten streak, and have taken the silverware in the Champions League title!

Of course, the live video stream cut out while I was watching the game (thanks to our company's lousy server), so I was forced to follow the game by reading the live ticker and chatbox on the UEFA site... in between customers' calls, of course.

Just catching the video replay of Lionel Messi's 70th minute goal, wow! Will post a link once the phones stop ringing...

On being traitorous, or Go Barça!

2009-05-26T08:11:00.004-05:00

I'm betraying my English ancestry.

For tomorrow's Champions League final, I'm cheering for Barcelona, and not Manchester United.

Don't get me wrong, I love Man U, or more appropriately, their history. Sir Bobby Charlton, George Best, Ryan Giggs, Owen Hargreaves, even Wayne Rooney are some of my favourite footballers. So, why cheer for Barça, then?

Simple.

It's for the simple fact that I absolutely loathe Cristiano Ronaldo with every fibre of my being.

That, and I actually follow Barcelona. Lionel Messi and Thierry Henry are two of my favourite footballers as well (honourable mentions going to Xavi, Carles Puyol and Samuel Eto'o).

So, long story short, Go Barça!

(Of course, I'd be cheering on Bayern Munich if Barça hadn't dismantled them in the semi-finals...)

The Volkswagens Cruise Home

2009-05-23T10:28:00.004-05:00

C&S would like to extend our hearty congratulations to Vfl Wolfsburg, who are Bundesliga champions of the 2008-09 season!

Your handy dismantling of Werder Bremen was something to hear!

I caught snippets of the match, flipping back and forth from the match between Stuttgart (2006-07 champs) and my FC Bayern (2007-08 champs), who have "secured" their second place finish. Not the first place finish I'd hoped for, but that's the way the ball bounces... so to speak.

I also caught a few snippets of the match between Energie Cottbus and Bayer Leverkusen, which was interesting as well. FC Energie (for whom I've been secretly rooting in their relegation struggle) trounced the "Aspirins" 3-0, but it looks like they're going down to the 2.Liga next season. Well fought, boys, well fought.

Well, that's another Fußball season over. Time to focus on MLS, yardwork, and the Speakeasy. I'm gonna finish my Weißbier, head out for some breakfast, then weed my patio.

Enjoy your weekend, folks!

Pins and Needles Time...

2009-05-22T08:57:00.003-05:00

I won't be able to sleep tonight.

Bundesliga finals are tomorrow, and my Bayern boys are still mired in second place - and depending on tomorrow's outcome, will either be in first place or, well, I'd rather not think about that.

Either way, when all is said and done, I still have yardwork to do tomorrow. Whether or not I'm in a good mood while doing it is entirely up to Heyncke's squad...

Opportunity Knocks... with a sledgehammer

2009-05-19T09:43:00.002-05:00

Mother Nature and Cruel Fate: 0

Aquarian hacker mentality: 1

See here for details.

Fußball, Weißbier, und Ich

2009-05-14T18:39:00.006-05:00

Been busy with life outside of the 'sphere.

And by life, I mean Bundesliga soccer.

There are just two games left in the 2008-09 season, and my boys at Bayern München are battling it out with four other squads for the top spot! Gonna be a tough fight (the Wolfsburg juggernaut seems unstoppable) but I know my boys'll win it all. I'm also rooting for Energie Cottbus in their epic struggle to avoid relegation to the Zweite Liga.

Speaking of 2.Liga, I'm pulling for Hansa Rostock in their struggle to avoid relegation to the 3.Liga. Here's hoping they can keep the ship from sinking.

As for the 3.Liga, I'm not paying close attention, as my "other" favourite team, Eintracht Braunschweig, are mired in the middle of the table...

I'm gonna be on the edge of my seat for the next week. I'll be stocking up on Erdinger Weißbier (aus Bayern!) and tuning in to the live audio feeds, whether by piggybacked wifi connection or shortwave radio, which a friend of mine assures me is "very remotely possible".

Nothing's impossible. We're hackers. We'll make it work.

Introducing... CJ's Speakeasy!

2009-04-30T10:16:00.002-05:00

By popular request, I've started a new blog to document the progress of my latest caper - the four-season gazebo.

I've dubbed the project "CJ's Speakeasy", and the whole affair is documented here.

The House that Jerk Built, part four

2009-04-27T11:27:00.002-05:00

Looks like my summer project is a go!

My far-fetched "what-if" scenario has turned into a reality... I'll be converting my garage into a four-season gazebo, complete with wood-burning fireplace and bar.

I've been pondering the garage's fate for over a year now. I don't drive, my '86 Daytona has been dead for years, and I rarely use the garage for anything apart from storage. I originally joked about levelling the thing and putting in a swimming pool, but I'd only be able to enjoy the pool for a few weeks out of the year.

So, while sitting on a lawnchair & sipping a Vermouth Cassis, I thought, "Hey, why don't I tear down the garage and put in a gazebo?"

But again, I'd only be able to enjoy a gazebo a few weeks out of the year... so I asked myself "What if I don't tear down the garage, and turn it into the gazebo? Put in a fireplace so I can use it year-round, and maybe put in a bar, so I have a reason to use it year round?"

Not a bad idea, if I do say so myself. The idea of relaxing in front of the fire, in the dead of winter, drinking a nice cognac with my friends is certainly appealing. So is the idea of throwing the mother of all barbecues for all my friends and hangers-on.

It's gonna be a busy summer...

I had to say it...

2009-04-15T16:51:00.002-05:00

Soooooo....

According to the CBC, the new-fangled tube dykes that were supposed to be the big stars of this flood are failing.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:

Inflatable will never beat the real thing.

Emergency Unpreparedness

2009-04-14T11:02:00.026-05:00

Just left this comment on Mr. Christian's latest post:

Mr. C,

Lately, I'm convinced that a seeming majority of folks in this province are indeed under-intelligenced.

At work, we've been inundated, deluged even, with calls from people who are in a mad panic for water suction and discharge hoses - and who get mad when we tell them we're sold out (a season's worth sold out in four hours, to better prepared people) and won't be getting any in for a couple of days.

When asked why they waited so long to buy if they're in such dire straits, most said "Because we didn't know the flood would be that bad, and didn't want to spend the money if we didn't need to!"

Dolts.

I will take back the comment that "the seeming majority of folks in this province are indeed under-intelligenced". It was said out of frustration, the sheer amount of people showing up at my counter today who are this unprepared for a flood that's been in the news for the last several months is nothing short of astounding.

Painting everyone with the same brush however does a great disservice to those truly affected by the flood (as well as the vast majority of folks had the sense to plan ahead), and for that I apologize.

Apart from that, I'll be expanding upon the "Emergency Unpreparedness" situation as the day progresses... we're busier than Hell here today... I've only been trying to eat my lunch for the past 2-1/2 hours ;)

EDIT 04/15/09:

It's now Wednesday, a day later. I've had a bit of time to reflect on yesterday's workday.

It was hectic, frantic even, but the situation wasn't unique to our shop. Over the course of the day, I had the opportunity to "talk shop" with some of our regular customers (and competitors - the hose & fitting business in Winnipeg can only be described as "incestuous"), and they all said the same thing:

"People have to plan better"

The vast majority of our customers are agricultural dealers, construction firms, equipment rental shops, Princess Autos, and mechanical/service centers, with a few big farms and a number of Hutterite colonies thrown in for good measure. These customers, our "bread and butter", are not the problem. Most have been in the business for years and have seen the trends, seen the cycles, and know when to have stock (and how much stock to carry).

But all the planning in the world will not save you from the average consumer.

Yes, this is Winnipeg, aka Wholesale City, where "it's always better, cheaper, and faster at the place up the street".

We share a good rapport with a number of our competitors, as we're all in the same general vicinity. Each of us will send the others our "cast-offs" whenever we're out of stock on an item (or if the customer is after something we don't carry), and we're all familiar with each other's product lines (and thus each others' pricing).

Of course, this fact seems to escape most of our casual customers, some of whom will try to chisel us on the price of our products. I can't count the number of times someone will say "Really? Your competitor up the street is selling the same hose for twenty bucks cheaper!", which typically results in a call to the competitor who typically says "Yeah, they said you had it twenty bucks cheaper!", and we share a good laugh. What synchronicity!

It'd be especially fun to do this on speakerphone, with the customer standing there... more fun if we initiated a conference call to several competitors... but that's conducive to repeat business.

But our incestuous price-fixing collusion is a story for another time (There Is No Cabal!). Where was I? Oh yeah, the flood...

(to be continued throughout the day)

... and to think I only fell in once!

2009-04-12T20:28:00.013-05:00

I took my pet camera for a walk today.

The original plan was to start at The Forks, and follow the river north to L'Esplanade Riel, The Waterfront, Juba Park, the Pumping Station + Alexander Docks, the Disraeli bridge, the Redwood Bridge, then walk along Scotia to Kildonan Park, then head over to Chief Peguis Trail.

Instead, I hung around The Forks, St. Boniface, L'Esplanade Riel, The Waterfront, and Stephen Juba Park. Took about 600 pics in all. I would have taken more, but I filled both of my camera's memory cards... (My ancient Olympus D-460Z uses 128Mb Smartmedia cards).

I ended up hopping the bus home, dumped both memory cards to my Linux box, then walked on over to Kildonan Park, via Scotia. Took a little detour to Louis Greenburgh Plaza and treated myself to a little history lesson, which you'll see in a later posting. I walked through Kildonan park for a couple of hours (snapping more pics and filling yet another card), completely forgetting I wanted to head over to Chief Peguis Trail...

I'll be busy this week as I finish my originally planned route, then sorting through the pics. I'm thinking of either starting a Flickr page, or resurrecting my old webpage to house the pics. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it...

Here are a few samples of the pics I snapped today. Once again, I will remind my readers and casual browsers to read the copyright notice at the bottom of the page before trying to use any of these pics. This means you, CBC, CTV, and the rest of you thieving media jackals! ;)

What the...? Isn't that the Canoe Rental shack? Hmmm, so much for renting a canoe today...

Ich kein Englisch (oder Französiche) spreche...

This was as far as I could go, at least without hip-waders..

See the green bridge on the right? Ordinarily, the canoe shack is on the other side of it.

Get used to this face. You'll be seeing a lot more of it in the future. (Although I'll be a great deal more presentable...)

I urge all my readers to contact Premier Doer and demand an end to Parking Lot Medicine NOW!

Please use ramp? Okaaayyy, but...

... the ramp ain't much better.

They'll be adding "No Swimming" to this sign in short order, methinks.

A small part of this afternoon's work. There were a lot of people out and about today, taking advantage of the warmer temperatures.. at least until it started to rain.

Me being me:

While walking along the footbridge at the Forks, a woman stopped to watch me take a few pictures.

Woman: Are you from The Sun?

Me: Originally, yes. However, we found it was far too hot there to live comfortably, so we moved here to Earth. It's much nicer here.

Woman (flabbergasted): Wha...?

Me: Just kidding. No, I'm not from The Winnipeg Sun.

Woman: Oh, I thought you were a reporter.

Me: Worse. I'm a blogger.

Woman: Oh, I... see... (walks off)

Some people have no sense of humour.

A Sunny Saturday With the Sandboxers

2009-03-28T11:47:00.018-05:00

Warning to those with a slow connection: Graphic intensity ahead. Go grab a coffee whilst the pictures load.

Sal's sur L'Esplanade is open again! Woohoo!

A few of us from the Winnipeg Sandbox decided to get together for breakfast this morning, and what better place than Sal's on the Bridge? I'm a huge Sal's fan (and not dead yet!), so of course this idea appealed to me.

I've also been meaning to head to The Forks, in order to snap a few pictures of the river, so I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone. Had I been more awake, I probably would have worn my nigh-invincible winter boots instead of my dress shoes, but Hell, I gotta learn to swim eventually anyway...

The meetup was great. Got to see some of the Sandbox regulars/fellow bloggers again (and met one member for the first time), we had our usual fascinating conversations, and even got to watch Fargo float on by as we ate! (Not my joke!)

I didn't come home empty-handed, either. My pal DeanK gave me an old Panasonic tape recorder, an IBM Thinkpad 380D, and a nice ring of sausage from Metro Meats. Rather nice of him, I must admit. Hopefully I can return his generosity with a few beers, once I finish converting my garage to a four-season gazebo.

By special request, I'm posting a few of the snapshots I took this morning. As I said before, if you're on a slow connection, you may want to put the coffee pot on while they load... Oh, and if you're thinking of using my pictures for whatever reason, I'll remind you to read the Copyright Notice at the bottom of this page. You especially, CBC and CTV!

Under the bridge downtown, I gave my life awaaaayyy: Wearing dress shoes with little to no grip, this is about as close to the river as I intended to get.

Hmmm, guess taking the stairs is out...

Mistimed this one by a few minutes. I wanted to catch the sun when it was just over the church...

I wasn't sure how this one would turn out. I waded through ankle-deep snow on a steep incline, holding onto a tree (so I didn't fall into the drink) with one hand, and trying to take the shot with the other.

So, there you have it! Just a small sampling of the fifty-or-so shots I took before the meet-up. One of these years, I'll have to start a new site for my pics. Maybe once I've improved my technique...

In other news, I'm quite excited about the prospect of having another laptop. I've been without one (apart from my Model 100) since my beloved Nadia died, and I haven't been around my usual haunts much because of it.

My "new" IBM Thinkpad 380D. Vital statistics and functional state unknown. Power adapter and new battery currently en route from reputable supplier :)

Wedged in the PCMCIA slot was a Xircom RealNet 10/100 Ethernet + 56K modem card. My first ever Type-III PCMCIA card. Nice to have, but not sure how much use it'll see because...

... I imagine these two amigos (my Orinoco WIFI card, and CF card reader) will be occupying the PCMCIA slots most of the time.

So, once I have a better idea of the machine's functional state, I can plan its future. Will likely turn it into a dual-boot system, running Debian Linux and OS/2 Warp 4, but I'll cross that bridge later.

On a final note, this week the Winnipeg Sandbox saw the addition of a few new features, my personal favourite being the "Sandbox Cred" feature. It works in much the same way as the old "Thank You" point system that we enjoyed on New Winnipeg in its previous incarnation, the only difference is that a "thumbs down" will decrease your "cred" by a point.

So far, I'm the only member with a negative Sandbox Cred!

I was at "zero" cred, and wondered aloud if it were possible to have a negative cred rating, so I asked someone to give me a "thumbs down" so we could find out. Pavolo obliged without much arm-twisting, and now we know it's possible to go into a negative.

At any rate, I gotta get going. I'm gonna be late for a lunch date...

It was only a matter of time...

2009-03-26T09:31:00.005-05:00

Last year, I blogged about the pedestrian/vehicle "near-misses" I observed while waiting for a bus.

This morning, this story arrived in my RSS feed reader.

A lapse in common sense, and you've ended your life and ruined another's.

Truly sad, but it was only a matter of time.

On Microcosmic Fair Trade, part one

2009-03-25T21:01:00.003-05:00

I received a package in the mail yesterday...

The package contained a couple of books I'd bought online. I perused the first one, but that's the extent of it's involvement in this saga. Our story really begins with the second book.

The second book was supposed to be an instructional DIY course on how to build a catapult.

I'd bought it as a lark, figuring it'd be good for a laugh or two, and would have my coworkers (further) questioning my sanity... and Hell, I'd be well equipped should I ever have to lob boulders, flaming pitch, appliances, or small vehicles in defense of my home and neighbourhood. Unfortunately, they sent me the wrong book. No, I didn't get my catapult book, but what I received could prove to be equally devastating at medium-long range...

It was a book on barter.

After getting over my initial disappointment, I thumbed through the book (Survival Bartering, by Duncan Long) and ultimately decided to keep it. I emailed the seller to let her know the situation, just in case they'd sent my catapult book to someone wanting the book on barter. She asked if I wanted to send the book back in exchange for the one I'd paid for, and I told her I'd keep this one if she'd refund me the difference, as the catapult book was five bucks more than the book on barter. She acquiesced and all was well. Five bucks ahead, and I hadn't even read the book through yet!

I took the book with me to work this morning, so I'd have something to do on my lunch hour. One of the guys saw me and asked me what kind of "hippie bullshit" I was reading this time, so I enlightened him.

"What the Hell kind of commie crap is that?" he asked (he's not too bright).

"Ok, here we go," I thought to myself... but instead of berating him with words that have far too many syllables for his brain to process, I opted to explain the concept of barter to him.

Barter, as I see it, can be explained thus: You're trading something of value to someone in exchange for something else of value. He seemed to catch on, so I elaborated.

"Even working is a form of barter," I explained, "You're trading your time and effort to your employer in exchange for money. Then you turn around and trade your money for other goods and services."

"Oh," he said, "I get it."

"Good!", I smiled, "But that's an oversimplified explanation. It gets more and more complicated, but that's a story for another lunch hour."

Now, I've been bartering for years. I had a home-based "business" for ages (trading old video games), and in recent years have been bartering my computer skills in exchange for other goods and services (but never money). I have fixed more personal computers over the years than I'd care to count, but never made a cent doing it. Instead, I'd exchange my skills for other things like old computer hardware, alcohol, artwork, tools, and the like. I made it absolutely clear that I didn't want money.

When asked why, I always explained, "Because money is the only thing that can cheapen something of value". Most people understood that the "something of value" was our friendship, other times I had to explain.

Of course, not everyone thinks in the same sentimental manner as I. The barter system is alive and well on the fringes of society, too, with an underground economy that is flourishing. People are routinely exchanging stolen goods for guns, drugs for sex, guns for hostages, sex for money or drugs, etc. It's also alive and kicking in the flea market/farmer's market circuit as well...

But more on that later.

I'm about a quarter of the way through the book, and it's been an interesting read so far.

Will post my final thoughts on the book once I'm done, and explore a few ideas I've just had on how bartering can help me in my goal of living minimal.

Listen to the Rockingbird, Listen to the Rockingbird

2009-03-24T08:39:00.003-05:00

(^Flintstones reference)

So, I bit the bullet. I'm now on Twitter (as conceitedjerk).

It's mildly interesting so far, my first impression is that it's a form of blogging (or RSS?) for people with short attention spans and/or ADD (which seems to be the norm nowadays).

Perhaps my opinion will change after I've used it a while. Perhaps not.

Spring is in the Air... The House that Jerk Built, part three

2009-03-22T20:30:00.002-05:00

Yes, my least favourite season of the year, Spring, has sprung.

I hate spring. Absolutely hate it. Hate it with a passion unbridled by reason (to quote my friend Dan).

I hate the puddles of water everywhere, the submerged sidewalks, the moronic drivers who drive through puddles and splash us then get mad when we retaliate by throwing snowballs, ice, or rocks at their vehicles.

I hate the smell of wet, dead vegetation once the snow has melted and the water recedes.

After everything dries out, however, it's not so bad. Especially because, by the time that happens, it's very nearly Summer.

Don't mind me. I'm just a tad bitter because I caught a wicked cold last week and have been cooped up nearly all weekend. Even missed a barbecue I wanted to attend. C'est la vie.

Since I wasn't up to going out, I spent much of yesterday (and all of today) cleaning the house. Figured I'd get a start on my spring cleaning, and maybe put pen-to-paper to plan this year's home improvement projects.

Most of this year's projects were the ones left over from last year which, for one reason or another, I never got around to doing. Apart from painting the living room and replacing the carpets, and ripping up the god-awful peel 'n stick flooring in the kitchen (to be replaced with real tile), I don't have much planned.

Practical improvements, yes, but practical projects don't make for interesting blogging. With that in mind, I set the switch on my brain from "Middle-class Homeowner" to "Deranged Interior Designer" and came up with a few (questionable) ideas.

Some of my longtime readers may recall part two of this "series", where I half-jokingly suggested I get rid of my garage and put in a swimming pool... well, I've decided to keep the garage after all. I have instead decided to get rid of the Chrysler product permanently entombed within (donate, feel great, get a tax rebate), get rid of all the clutter inside, and clean it out completely.

Then I'd like to turn it into a four-season gazebo, complete with fireplace.

Of course, I'll have to check the City's website to see if I can do this legally, but if I can, this will add a new dimension to entertaining guests at my place.

I typically hold at least one barbecue for my friends during the summer, and occasionally have people (the neighbours, mostly) over for breakfast on the patio. I love to entertain, and a four-season, rain-or-shine gazebo would allow me to do it all year round.

It'll take a lot of remodeling to make the garage look hospitable (let alone inviting), but it's not an impossible task. I'm going to draw up a rough floor plan this week (like where the bar is going to go), and discuss it with a few people. Hopefully I have something interesting to report in the coming weeks.

Practical Retromoblogging

2009-03-19T22:03:00.003-05:00

(Article originally written 03/16/09)
My old TRS-80 Model 100 (aka "Gibraltar") just became more useful.

Today, after a week of edge-of-my-seat anticipation, my latest peripheral arrived, one that will make my mobile blogging life a lot easier.

My NADSBox arrived.

"What the Hell is a NADSBox?" you may ask, "What does it do, apart from invite puerile comments as to its name?" (Including, I might add, an officially sanctioned one...)

So good of you to ask! The NADSBox, or New Age Digital Storage Box, is a modern replacement for the aging Tandy Portable Disk Drive. It basically emulates the TPDD, using SD, MMC, SDHC cards in place of floppy disks.

The main benefit is storage capacity - my old TPDD2 could store 200K on a single floppy. The NADSBox can handle memory cards up to 16 Gigabytes! Not that I'd ever need that kind of storage, mind you, but it's nice to know that the capability is there. Heh, I doubt that I'll ever fill the 512Mb card that came with the unit...

Another added benefit (and this was the deciding factor for me) is that the cards used in the NADSBox can be read in any old card reader, so I can blog with my Model 100 to my heart's content, save my work to the NADSBox, pull the SD card, pop it into my USB2 card reader and transfer all my work onto my Linux box (or iMac) for uploading to Blogger.

Of course, this works both ways, too. I can download a bunch of Model 100 apps online using my Linux box (etc) and simply write everything to the SD card for transfer to my Model 100!

No more fighting with null-modem cables or slooooowwww modem transfers anymore! Wooohoooo!

My heartfelt thanks to Ken Pettit for designing the singularily most useful computing product I've bought in the past decade or so, and a special "Thank You" goes to Rick Hanson of Club 100 for being the sole distributor and all-around nice guy.

I'd also like to extend a big "Hello" to all who have come to my little corner of the blogosphere via the link on the Club 100 site. Welcome!

EDIT 3/19/09
So far, the NADSBox has paid for itself with an increase in productivity. I've been writing a lot more than usual, and I've been transferring a bunch of my other work from my old TPDD disks onto the NADSBox, so I can upload them to my Linux box for later archiving onto CD or DVD.

I've also been poring over some of the Model 100's technical documents online, so I can have a better understanding of the machine and how it works - but more on that later. I have twenty more disks worth of material to archive, tomorrow's blog post to finish, and a spreadsheet to update.

Gonna be a late night...

Two for Two!

2009-03-19T15:54:00.006-05:00

*edited 3/19/09 18:35h*

Just noticed that Drinksmixer has accepted my personal Martini recipe, the same one I shared with you all back on St. Patrick's Day.

Of course, they omitted everything else such as the inventor (me) and the backstory behind it, but c'est la vie. It's not just my recipe anymore, it belongs to the world!

... or to CraveOnline Media LLC, if you read the fine print...

Not that it's a big deal in the grand scheme of things. One gets the impression they'll publish anything, judging from some of the vile concoctions on the site (and their respective titles).

I have a lot more recipes in my repertoire, perhaps enough to write a book..? Perhaps one day. For now, I'll simply enjoy my Pimm's No.1 Cup and ginger ale.