Category: Personal

Today I saw something that really made me wish I had a cameraphone. On the way back from Office Depot I had the good fortune to be driving behind a maroon mid-80s Dodge K car for several blocks. The rear deck (or whatever you call the surface behind the back seat of a sedan, inside the window) was filled from side to side with two or three inch high plastic figures. All colors, types and desciptions. Making it even better, the driver had long frizzy hair standing straight out from his head that Don King only dreams of having. I think he’s kept the car all this time just for those figurines!

Dude, how could you doubt it?

Anchorman was actually funny which, considering it stars Will Ferrell, is surprising. But funny stupid, so I really don’t have much to say about it.

For those of you hanging out breathlessly, you can now experience RawSugar for yourself. After some amazing effort from our Engineering team in Israel with support from the humble Palo Alto crew, we pushed an alpha release yesterday for public consumption. For us alpha means it works–I rarely see any errors-but isn’t feature complete; we’ve just locked down the next rev, which should be ready around the end of the month and are arguing furiously about the follow on due in August.

But it works and works well. You can create collections of tagged pages (with vitamin-packed notes) and search either just a collection or the master database of all collections. Some interesting examples:

• Greetings From Asbury Park: all about Bruce Springsteen
• Western Wheels Bicycle Club: biking in the Bay Area and beyond
• Shimon Golan’s Music: links to popular tunes played by one of our developers

Like I said, we’ve got plenty of new features coming soon but what’s there today is solid.

One of my co-workers is now blogging: My Way – Guy’s BLOG SHLOG.

Last Saturday I posted several very negative entries about MTV’s Live8 broadcast. I surely stand by those remarks as the day was perhaps the worst substantial coverage of a major entertainment event in the modern era. The network constantly cut off songs in the middle to show their staff babbling–show, don’t tell, is a writer’s maxim for a good reason–and despite much of the music having been tape-delayed (which was fine by me) they did not once to my knowledge let viewers know what acts were coming on next or soon.

I was far from the only critic and the execs at MTV Networks listened. While I’d like to have seen some notice more than 12 hours ahead, got to give them props for spinning on the dime and showing ten hours of commercial- (and VJ blather-)free rebroadcast of the concerts. Solid blocks too, for me the highlights were five straight songs from both U2 and Pink Floyd. The Irish boys know how to do the high speed rock thing, always good and always get what you expect.

The first show by the classic Floyd lineup in decades was totally a Dave Gilmore showcase and for all that Roger Waters wrote the best material, Gilmore was everywhere from lap, slide and stinging lead guitar to most of the vocals. Waters, I don’t know, he seemed to be trying to assert the serious artist pose, full of solid facial expressions as he played the reasonably straightforward bass lines and sang along off-mic. Still, if he can whip up a batch of new material and the four of them can keep it together through a few months in the studio, you’re looking at the biggest classic rock album of 2006 and since Springsteen’s The Rising three years ago.

We’re here in the new place. Pretty spacious, our big stuff seems to fit fine. Have to wait until the unpacking is done to judge the smaller things’ fit. Though the kithen is bigger than at 67G, and the cabinet and drawer space looks bigger, the reality is not necessarily so. For now, until we spend some time and get to experience the neighbor noise levels I’m happy.

No word on LittleSteven from the PC hospital yet so I’m still using the craptastic Compaq. The keyboard and mouse are significant contributors to my namecalling along with annoyingly slow switching between applications. Could it be the insultingly small 256MB of memory? Probably.

Both of these seem trivial complaints in light of the horrors in London earlier today. We’re just very glad the toll wasn’t higher. Still, our lives are our lives and we move through minute by minute dealing more with what’s at hand than across the world.

Tomorrow is moving day. We’re mostly packed though there is reluctance to uncable the TVs and related equipment and the PCs. One benefit of preparing Casa de Lazar for sale was that we ran through all the closets, drawers and cabinets to see what could be tossed, so that was one chore we didn’t need to do and there’s less to move. Compared to ten years ago when I moved to the Bay Area this is a lot easier.

Moving also means I’m no longer president of this little HOA. Most people won’t volunteer to be on the board but I didn’t find it to be particulaly annoying or difficult. The business matters need to be looked after and checks have to be signed or the development would be in a mess. The one big sore spot is the ongoing conflict with Mrs X. The issue is unresolved, sadly, as this person’s lawsuit against the board has dragged on and on through several lawyers and amended complaints.

I suppose since the suit is a matter of public record I could name the name but why bother? The case might be resolved by the end of the month though I’ve thought that before and it didn’t happen. We’ve offered a more reasonable settlement than I was happy with but the other board members convinced me it was the best choice; she’s had it in her hands for about a month without responding so maybe there’s a curve coming soon. No longer my problem but best wishes to those left behind.

We’re staying in Mountain View, renting in a nice apartment complex over near Los Altos and a little bit more convenient to both of our offices and the gym. When the bubble bursts, we’ll look to get back into homeownership.

You: Bill, we know you watched three moves Sunday night and Monday afternoon so where are the revews?

Me: The answer is in the form of a riddle: Where is LittleSteven?

You: Ah, we see. You’re saying that your laptop crashed again. What was it this time?

Me: For the third time in less than 12 months the hard drive went byebye. The BIOS wouldn’t even admit the system had one.

You: So Fry’s called lemon on the sucker and you’re typing this on a brand new box?

Me: (After burst of laughter) You must be thinking of Mirror Universe Fry’s because the chain I go to hardly gives up so easily. The service managers wouldn’t even agree that I had a priority claim on a technician’s time to get a diagnosis.

You: But but but… LittleSteven was in their paws only five weeks ago. How could it have failed again so soon?

Me: To hear their explanation, the two failures could be entirely unrelated. Seriously! Anyhow, late afternoon I called back to see if the testing had been done. It was, not that anyone bothered to call and let me know despite the promises made. The hard drive is kaput and the test claimed the RAM was bad too but replacing the RAM didn’t clear the error so they figured might be the memory slot. Beyond the scope of work Fry’s will do at the store service counter so today it was gonna be shipped off to the central depot and possibly on to Toshiba.

Brought to you by a cheapass Compaq loaner…

One of the amusements found on the web is that many times an ad network (for instance, Google AdSense) will match opposite points of view. For instance, Bad Astronomy debunks junk science while advertising on its home page today is Michael Mozina’s The Surface of the Sun.

TSotS is a site using material (apparently images and movie files) from recent scientific missions (Hubble, Chandra and so forth) to explain that below the photosphere our Sun has a “hard and rigid ferrite surface.” In an attempt to be fair to Mozina I skimmed every page on his site plus the PDF file of the article he submitted to The Astrophysical Journal. Mainly I was looking for any signs of a mathematical formula underpinning the pretty radical assertions of this theory and of course found none, nor did he offer any in a rather lengthy and argumentative thread on a Christian message board when confronted by people who seemed to be actual scientists.

The first one was good and ended with the good guys in comfortable places. No need to bring them back to resolve some hanging story thread or buddy-buddy tension. The Whole Nine Yards just made too much money for the people involved not to try a second time. I think–so hard to be sure–this one was so bad creatively and did so bad financially that there won’t be a third.

In The Whole Ten Yards our two couples (Bruce Willis and Amanda Peet, Matthew Perry and Natasha Henstridge) are fluffing along, more or less okay, until Hungarian mobster Laszlo Gogolak (Kevin Pollack as the brother of the crime boss he played last time) gets out of jail wanting revenge. Without showing us how he found them, Pollack kidnaps Henstridge which forces Perry to run to the others’ Mexican hideout. Not being quite as stupid as his brother he sticks a GPS unit in Perry’s Porsche and we get (a pretty crappy) firefight out front of the villa. Anyway, it goes on from there with what’s supposed to be a big twist.

George Gallo wrote the script (his past gems include Wise Guys–no, not Scorsese’s classic, this was the 1986 Devito/Piscopo comedy–and more recently David Arquette’s postal classic See Spot Run) and only came up with a bunch of shtick and bits which director Howard Deutsch can’t weave together. I think the missing piece is a character like Michael Clarke Duncan’s Frankie Figgs who bridges Willis and Perry to the Pollack’s gang; here is only Tasha Smith as Frankie’s sister and she’s got so little to do I’m guessing most of her lines were left on the editing room floor.

Deutsch has a history of making useless sequels and remakes such as Grumpier Old Men, The Odd Couple II, and Some Kind of Wonderful (okay, technically this wasn’t a remake but it sure seemed like they took the filling from all the previous John Hughes flicks and said “Ooh, let’s toast the bread this time!”) so I can only blame myself for not heeding every single review published.

I really do blame myself. All these cable channels, books, websites and I spent 100 minutes over two nights watching this. Must be punishment for something really bad.

not recommended–if you can’t find your remote pull the damn plug!

Is there a story more famous than the war over the most beautiful woman of the ancient world? The tale of the face that launched a thousand ships aiming to reclaim her for the king of Sparta, though, is spun far off its traditional rails by director Wolfgang Petersen (The Perfect Storm, Enemy Mine) and writer David Benioff (25th Hour) into a thinly veiled contemporary psychodrama.

Focused mainly on Achilles (Brad Pitt) and Hector (Eric Bana), the two great warriors of ancient Greece, Troy sets them against each other as reluctant fighters unmoved by the ideals passed down by Homer in The Iliad. Excellent Hollywood mirrors: Achilles hones his martial prowess as his answer to the ephemeral nature of life while Hector looks to his wife and infant son for sustenance.

Achilles laughs at the allegiance demanded by King Agamemnon (a mulletted Brian Cox) and scorns the honor price demanded by Agamemnon’s brother Menelaus, Helen’s spurned husband. Hector finds strength in leading Troy’s army and peace in accepting the human frailty of his brother Paris (Orlando Bloom). When Paris cannot face death at Menelaus’ sword Hector lifts him up lovingly yet asks no quarter later when he walks out the city gates to his deathmatch. Achilles must receive Hector’s gift to reconcile this inner battle and conquer his angst.

Peter O’Toole’s Priam is well beyond an active place on the battlefield, more suited to skulking unnoticed and favoring priestly advice over the words of his sons. The gods, of course, sit on Mount Olympus seeking entertainment rather than heeding the signals priests read from birds and pigs. Hence the tragic ending to the story. Sean Bean gets a role very different from LotR’s Boromir, the political animal Odysseus (no, no mention of his ride home) who connects Agamemnon’s leadership to Achilles’ blade.

Helen’s played here by Diane Kruger, lovely enough but little more than that. She’s easily outperformed by Rose Byrne as Briseis, the Trojan princess who wins Achilles’ heart, and Saffron Burrows as Hector’s wife Andromache. I may be biased–both are more attractive in my eyes–but they seem more at ease with the dialog and direction.

Petersen and Benioff are the real villains of the piece. While no one would greenlight a 1950s Cecil DeMille bland, smooth costume epic these days, the pendulum’s swung too far the other way. Between computers, high def cameras and access to suitable locations anywhere, filmmakers can deliver stunning visuals and any angles on the action desired but this need to explore every major character’s psychological landscape crowds every movie into the same narrow space:

Troy != Gladiator != Kingdom of Heaven != Braveheart != Cold Mountain != Saving Private Ryan != Minority Report.

Fortunately they haven’t ruined this movie and though it could have been better I still can say:

recommended

I hate MTV, I really do. After waiting all day to see the reunited Pink Floyd and having it come on 15 minutes before the end, these fucktards cut away after less than two minutes to their babbling moronic VJs telling us how cool the concerts were. And to show a few more commercials.

Everybody scream after me: “I hate MTV! They suck worse than a Pauly Shore movie.”

Speaking of photos, Bruce seems to be showing his age. Which is okay with me–not that anyone asked, keep yer shirts on (esp. if you’re my age or older)–and that’s a bit surprising as I think about it. Growing up in the ’70s, being comfortable with getting older wasn’t in scope. By now I expected biogenetic tropes from then-current science fiction stories to have traveled to reality but the scientists in their labs aren’t quite ready. Dudes, get busy. Well, busier. Maybe I’m not as comfortable as I’d like to believe.

Bonus: AO Scott, in the NY Times, offers an assessment of many recent books about Bruce.

My next rant is: Why are they cutting nearly every song off in the middle? People are watching to see the performances–everything is to put up with in decreasing order of acceptance, celebrity interviews, political speeches, VJ blather, PSAs and commercials. Whacking the primary attractions in half is just fucked up. But why should we expect anything better from MTV? They gave up any connection to their original purpose years ago. If I had my PC set up properly I’d just flip over to the full concerts streaming elsewhere.

We’re watching the MTV broadcast of LIVE 8 – The Long Walk to Justice and 24 minutes in we’ve heard exactly two songs, maybe six minutes max, of music. I don’t really begrudge the commercials, the bills need to get paid and there are plenty of PSAs too, but all the VJ self-promoting blather is beyond annoying and the 10 second per tune highlights were useless. Okay, Black Eyed Peas with the Marleys are back on now with a Bob Marley classic. Hope this is not going to be the pattern all day, is all I will say.

Matt, I suppose OS X is cool but it is not by any means the the final upgrade. [file under Mac fanatics]

I’ll give it a try. From Stu Nicholls.

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Looks good to me. If you’re seeing this through the RSS feed, you need to come to the site to experience the effect.

Burnham’s Beat: Just How Much Did VCs Pocket On Google? Let’s just say YOWSA! doesn’t quite capture it.