Category: Personal

What an awesome result! Liverpool 2-1 Arsenal today at Anfield, with up and coming striker Neil Mellor (only playing because of injuries to Cisse, Baros, and Luis Garcia) driving the winner home from 25 yards seconds before the final whistle. I am so stoked and can’t wait to see the replay of this match on FSW Wednesday afternoon. After the goal drought of recent matches, taking three points against the defending champions is absolutely briliant.

Need a great programmer? Rob Fahrni is available and has deep experience with C/C++/Win32/COM and is now using C# and the .NET framework, not too mention his work history includes several years at Microsoft in the Visio team. He’s in Visalia, near Fresno, in California’s Central Valley but in this age of virtual teams and distributed development, that ought not be an issue for a smart development manager.

Photosolve: interesting new company from a fellow Sun alumni “where you’ll find a broad range of high-value yet affordable products and useful information to extend your digital photography experience!”

I saw a very different guitar player this afternoon on PBS live music series Sierra Center Stage, an Aussie named Tommy Emmanuel who played a set of acoustic instrumentals that used his guitar as a percussion kit as much as a normal guitar. A lot of energy, a lot of creativity. He ended with a song called Initiation that was really intense, very deep, though he introduced it as telling a story that I could not connect to what I heard at all. Nice change of pace, for sure.

Note that his website uses a very poor design but you can listen to his music by clicking the “his TUNES” image at the bottom right, clicking on an album title and then on a song title. Or cheat and click here to go straight to his discography.

Back when men were men and Russia was still the major part of the Soviet Union, some manly men on both sides were convinced that the only way for their country to survive the destructive power of the other was to develop a weapon so overwhelming that it could be used while sustaining only minimal damage to itself. Fortunately for us all those men never got a chance to test their fever dreams.

Released in 1990, The Hunt for Red October was a fictionalized version of what mighted have been, if the Soviets had developed a nearly undetectable submarine engine and built a huge MIRV launching system on top of it. Since this is an American made movie, from Tom Clancy’s first huge hit novel, the captain of this first strike weapon is a man perfectly suited to defect.

Sean Connery is Ramius, the iron man running this show, the senior captain of the Soviet nuclear submarine fleet, and he takes the Red October out on its first cruise, with Sam Neill as his number two who dreams of Montana’s open skies and a fat round American wife. Alec Baldwin (replaced by Harrison Ford and then Ben Affleck in later flicks) is American intelligence analyst Jack Ryan, the man who figures out what Connery’s up to. Scott Glen is Bart Mancuso, the American sub captain tailing the Soviets out onto the open seas, and he teams up with Ryan to enable the plan.

Directed by John McTiernan, a top action man, Hunt is an excellent thriller that marches through twists and turns better than Connery’s sub does through the ocean bottom. The first two thirds are filled with the separate races Ryan and Ramius run just to meet up and the final act notches the tension tighter through several false endings. The cinematography and editing are totally sharp.

I’m not writing this well. It’s a holiday, so cut me some slack.

recommended

You gotta figure a show has lost its creative juice when the punchline to the whole pre-credit joke scene is “You know what’s fun is to blow smoke into a dog’s mouth.”

From this week’s frontline, secret history of the credit card, are a couple of interviews that a perfect examples of doubletalk and evasion that just drive you nuts. The one with julie l. williams, acting comptroller of the currency, is particularly sad since she’s part of our government, while Edward Yingling is less surprising but no less disheartening since he’s the mouthpiece for the big banks.

Roger Ebert writes a better review of this awesome 1955 French noir classic than I could. A direct inspiration, along with the contemporaneous Bob La Flambeur, for the modern heist genre. Tarantino would never have made Reservoir Dogs without it. Rififi, as its titled in English-speaking countries, has one scene that stands out as terrifically memorable, the actual robbery, which lasts for 28 minutes and has no dialog or music, just the natural sounds of the four men as they break in, disable the alarm and drill into the back of a huge safe. So cool and, for the record, Frank Oz and David Mamet (who both should have known better) should be sentenced to watch this over and over until their eyeballs bleed for making The Score and Heist.

definitely recommended

William Safire, who can’t retire soon enough to suit me, had another of his absurdities on the Time’s OpEd page today and I was inspired to fire this off:

I read today’s essay by William Safire (Steamroller out of steam) with an increasingly sad laughter ringing in my head. He derides the 9/11 victims’ families and associated efforts to finally bring some order and coherence to our intelligence efforts as racing ahead of need, even though the matter has been discussed widely and hearings held during which critics of the reform testified, while on the facing page we see a true Congressional steamroller in operation (Snookering the taxpayers) and just yesterday another exposing the same shameful action (Rolling Back Women’s Rights). Where is Mr. Safire’s outrage at these shenanigans, where important changes were made without a single committee hearing, a single day for Congresspeople to read and understand just what their vote was about?

Software patents: “It’s a little bit like paying the blackmailer before they have something to blackmail you about.”

Not a surprise: Donovan to ‘fulfill obligation’ to Leverkusen.

Not a surprise: Liverpool loses 1-0 to Monaco and loses another starter (possibly two) to injury.

Christopher Byron, a business reporter building quite a reputation in my eyes, has the kind of article in today’s NY Post (Not So Fast, Eddie) that you really want to see more often in more newspapers. Byron looks closely at Ed Lampert, an investor behind the emergence of KMart from its recent bankruptcy as well as the in-process merger of KMart and Sears. For starters, his hedge fund is the controlling investor in both companies. Anyway, sounds like some pretty shady dealing that I’m surprised to see in this post-Enron, Elliot Spitzer atmosphere. Maybe Byron’s piece will open the relevant eyes.

The Mercury News runs a daily Q&A on reader questions regarding traffic, road and public transit construction and even basic driving techniques and laws that is often interesting. However, today’s column includes a letter about the possibility of allowing, for a non-trivial fee, single occupancy vehicles into the commuter lanes and not for the first time Roadshow writer Gary Richards ducks the asked question. I wrote him to ask why:

Gary,

I’m a little disappointed that twice now, including today, I’ve seen you respond to questions regarding the economic equality of government plans to offer single vehicle drivers access to HOV lanes for a few dollars by not addressing this point but sloughing the writers off with fairly vague comments like “seems to be working” elsewhere. Roadshow is your column and I’m not trying to interfere with the choices you and your editors make on which letters to print and answer but if you do print somebody’s question I think you should at least actually answer their question instead of one they didn’t ask.

Can you explain the criteria for judging the effectiveness of the San Diego and Houston efforts that lead to your answer? That is, what does “working” mean in this context? More importantly to me, how are the government officials making this decision justifying what Mark Mayol (rightly) calls “the separation of the haves and have-not?”

One Summer night, the year I was 14,

The true meaning of terror came clear to me,

As clear as a teenage mind can make it

In the dark, in a nearly empty campground

In the middle of a national park

Further from civilization than this boy

Was comfortable being.

Some point after the Moon swung past the

Highest point in its arc across the sky my

Stomach rumbled so loudly I woke up

Looking for the noise only to feel the pressure

Of a bladder past full and filled with

Urgency, to get to the primitive loo that was

All the campground offered.

Surrounded by a tentfull of other teenage boys

Travelling together across the Western states,

All of them sleeping and none of them

Caring to be disturbed by my troubles

I took care to rise and walk the way you

See in movies, slowly tiptoeing out.

Glancing upward, I got a bit of understanding

Of things I’d only read in books, of the beauty and

Love that open space and open skies and Nature

Bestow on some people fortunate enough to

Pull away from the electrical interference and

Appreciate some different.

The pressure, though, was as urgent as you’d

Imagine so I looked around to find the well-equipped,

Modern as you’d like indoor plumbing facilities

Complete with porcelain sinks and other useful

Inventions, contained inside a capacious grey

Cinder block building.

So I walked across the grounds, with quiet so

Thick you could, as the comedians say, cut it

With a knife, some insects, some birds, though

Not any sound man-made and that was nice,

Almost comforting though having forgotten shoes

My feet were complaining.

Inside I quickly did my business, wanting as much

As anything else just to get back to my cot and sleep

Before the hikes and such that were planned for

Morning until I opened the door and heard a sound

Which wasn’t audible on the walk in but got my

Attention really darn fast.

Made me look up too, to see tall bear–brown as I

Remember–about 25 or 30 feet away coming out

From some trees towards me. Not running and he

Wasn’t roaring, his noise wasn’t that loud but

Fortunately loud enough for me and I

Overcame the shock of recognizing this

Animal before I got too far from perfectly

Good shelter.

Slamming the door, breathing heavy, yes,

Here’s a bolt lock in the door, turn it and

Sure enough the bear does come up to the

Other side right away, pushing at it,

Shoving, trying to get inside but

Fortunately for me the construction was

Stronger than him.

All the thoughts racing through my mind

Were wondering if that bear could push past

The lock and get at me, wondering what the

Pain would feel like, how badly I’d be injuried

How long the hurt would stick to my body or

Even if he’d tear off enough for snacking

That I’d die.

Death, that was never in my mind before this

One night, not connected to me but something

Old, grey haired people like my mom’s lovely mother,

Grandma Weiner, she died two years before I

Hid from the bear in the bathroom and how much

Time was passing, the animal didn’t leave and

I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t control myself

So I screamed.

I thought I screamed as loudly as my throat

Would go with enough volume to maybe scare

Away the bear or wake up one of the counselors

Leading our trip or one of the other campers

I screamed again and again, just Help Help

Help even when my throat hurt from doing it

But no one heard.

I had no watch and no idea how much time

Was passing but it seemed like ten, twenty

Minutes and the bear was still at the door,

Finally the sounds of his effort slowing down

My screaming probably didn’t do much to

Encourage his departure, my salvation, but even

Bears get tired.

And he still was out there, under the sky

Filled with so many stars and a big bright Moon

So different from what you’d see outside my

Suburban window. Maybe my mind snapped

A bit from the pressure of my fear and looked

For a different tack to try since all that

Screaming failed.

The counselors riding herd on the 30 of us

Traipsing across America that Summer were

All Bible College students, maybe six or seven

Years older than us and their belief in Jesus

Wasn’t something they pushed on us but they

Were happy to talk about Him and answer

Our silly questions.

Not being a member of their herd, barely still

Belonging to my own and more impressed with

Questions coming from physicists and philosophers

Far from such conservative bents and I often

Told myself I was more interested in pulling at

Hanging threads dangling from inconsistent

Logic in their fables.

But in the moment, in the spaces between

My ineffective unheard screams and scratching

At the door from the beast I remembered, or

Tried to, the message the counselors had given me,

I raised my eyes to the ceiling of my little sanctuary

Then asked Him and His only born Son to

Intercede on my behalf and send the bear away

And save me.

In return I would embrace Him and his

Faith despite the certain reaction of my family

When I delivered this news but in the moment

The bear was much more real to me but the bear

Stayed at the door, for how long I still can’t say,

And I couldn’t get back to my simple cot in my

Simple tent and I stayed, slumped crying on the

Floor of my sanctuary until daylight finally came

Through the window.

Young as I was, my offer was in return for

His immediate intercession and not 10 or 20 minutes

Or three hours later so I never mentioned my

Thought, the bargain offered up, to these counselor

Instead I yelled at them for days for not waking

Up or having one person on guard while we were in

Such a dangerous place and I remained unchanged

Because as the minutes went by and my screams went

Unanswered I was scared.

LOL: My GeneFilter

Did you see U2 on last night’s SNL? They were excellent, of course, performing Vertigo and Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own and for the first time in all the years of this show that I can think of, came back for a third song (I Will Follow, from their first release almost as long ago) during the wasted couple of minutes that generally precede the credits. And apparently went on to play at least one more for the studio audience as the broadcast ended.

Ted Kennedy complains about a new video game that allows users to play the assassination of his brother John, though only from the historically documented lone gunman sequence and not the tinfoil hat conspiracy scenarios. I wouldn’t want to play this, I don’t care for any bloody, violent games, but I do wonder how this is any worse or better than games which recreate other historical events like both World Wars, Korea and Vietnam.

Interesting NY Times disection of the 17 year hell that was the development process of Kevin Spacey’s upcoming biopic of Bobby Darin. Besides being interesting simply to understand how the movie moved from Point A to Point B to final release, the article is also an example of truly balanced journalism given the huge number of participants and therefore points of view.

The first time around, the balance of romance and jokes, not to mention the quality of the jokes, was spot on. In this sequel, there’s a fourth credited screenwriter and a change in directors, neither change to the good. There are jokes this time, of course though too many are obvious set ups rather than flowing organically from the story, Zellweger’s chubbiness seems too substantial for the four weeks the movie claims have passed since the first, and, worst of all, there is a completely needless heavy dramatic turn about two thirds in that brings all good cheer to a thudding halt.

All in all, Bridget Jones – The Edge of Reason, is a pretty good example of why you shouldn’t make sequels to romantic movies. Action films can be just as formulaic with them but in those films the audience is looking for more big booms, some high speed chases, a good villain and the hero saving everything in the last few minutes having nearly avoided losing everything. In movies where the lead character is looking for love and ends up finding it, a sequel has a lot of trouble because right off the story must account believably for why the relationship is off.

Let me tell you, using an airport drug bust with a half dozen cops pointing loaded AK-47s at Bridget as the external event that everntually brings the two lovers back together–but not before all humor and romance is lost as she faces 10-15 years in a Thai prison–is so over the top in the wrong direction that I cannot imagine how not one of the writers, producers, lead actors, nor studio executives stopped it. And while I applaud three major studios for making a film with a pleasantly plump over 30 actress as the star, shoving this factor constantly to the front of the screen gives it the weight of a gimick where subtlety would have been much better.

not recommended

PS: This wasn’t my conscious choice for it but I will note that this write up is the 300th such post I’ve made to the blog in just a bit over 3.5 years. Nice to reach milestones and fun to continue the effort.

You know Tom DeLay is facing a pretty big problem when Republican mouthpiece David Brooks starts pointing out the chinks in DeLay’s armor as he does in today’s columns, A Scandal Waiting to Happen. Even if Brooks does take extreme care to portray DeLay otherwise as positively as he can and the essay is more about why the Texas exterminator ought to go before he screws up the almost at hand conservative Nirvana.

Meanwhile, the Republicans in Congress aren’t even willing to wait for the newly-elected members to show up in January before beginning the legislative assault that will implement their sad social agenda. Last night, the leadership inserted language further constraining abortion rights into a completely unrelated spending bill that must be passed before midnight tonight to prevent a government shutdown. Despite plans by Senator Barbara Boxer to try and prevent passage, apparently this will slide through like the greased pig it so clearly resembles.

In a sign that Bush hasn’t rid himself of all potential high level dissenting voices, Fed Chairman Alan Greenspan raised alarms in the investment world yesterday over the increasing Federal deficit, albeit indirectly by talking about the potential negative impact of the rapidly increasing U.S. current account deficit. That deficit is impacted by more than just federal spending, of course, but there is a fairly close connection.

And one wonders how much time is left (to Bush, to the Chinese, to anyone) to deal with the rising nuclear threats from Iran and North Korea. American intelligence now estimate madman Kim Jong Il has at least six functional nuclear weapons and the Iranians, despite an agreement with European governments leading the effort to the contrary, are racing to complete the enrichment of at least some uranium hexaflouride, a gas that can be enriched into bomb fuel.

Continuing the series from here.