Category Archives: Tourette’s Apprentice

Rants and Raves and all things Vile.

Happy Marquis de Sade Day

Being that neither C nor myself are cathaholics—she a teetotaler and me an apathetic—we have tossed in the proverbial towel on this so-called St Valentine and his alleged day.

In case you didn’t know (and most don’t), St Valentine had an imaginary friend.  The guy can’t stop talking about his imaginary friend.  Just loves him.  Says he is loved by him.  A match made in heaven.  But it’s over and over, relentless, like the pounding of the waves upon the beach.  Everybody he meets stares in awe as Valentinus Sinusitis regales the very air with luscious adulations of said imaginary friend.

Then he meets an emperor of Rome—let’s call him Claudius—I like the name Claudius—I might name my next cat Claudius—anyway, Valentinus continues to avail every breath which might reach those imperial ears ever-toward the tiresome goal of shouting from the top of a mountain that which could just as effectively be slipped into a note in the pocket of one’s robe like a precious telegram.

have imaginary friend stop

lots of love stop

Long story short… so Claudius says “if you don’t shut the fuck up about your invisible companion I’m gonna have a couple of the boys take you out back and beat you to death”.  Valentinus, being a smooth negotiator, talks the emperor into beheading when the beating is done: “if you’re going to do it, your highness, at least do it right”.

Clearly this is the most magnificent symbol of romantic love in the many millennia of humanity’s struggle to find someone with which to enjoy chocolate, perhaps rivaled only by Big Bird’s love of Mr Snuffleupagus—assuming of course someone were to then beat and behead Big Bird.

But hey, Big Bird’s been through a lot lately.

Big Bird: Down but not Out
Big Bird: Down but not Out

Let’s leave him and his romance to blossom as it will.  It’s a harsh world; we should never endeavor to hamper love.

So what might lovers do to spontaneously express their gratitude and joy, nay to celebrate the very fabric of love which binds so many of us together?

Let me turn your attention to another historical figure.

This chiseled human specimen is a novelist and a playwright, loves spanking servant girls in his spare time, did most of his writing in prison, was subsequently elected as a delegate before the National Convention, and can often be heard saying “Seigneur, Madame le Guillotine”.

Let’s have a big round of applause for our first contestant, the Marquis de Sade.

[Insert applause.]

(Actually he’s our only contestant as I don’t plan to stay up all night trying to convince you to laugh.)

The Marquis de Sade was probably born in June of 1740, not that it matters much.  Holidays get tossed all over the calendar.  If someone doesn’t like where a holiday lands they have always had the option to just move it.

Granted it’s a lot harder with a holiday like the Fourth of July, but as long as it’s named Lumpy Rug Day or Ether Day you have a bit of flexibility.  And thanks to the amazing magic of double-think you too can think “it’s always been on that day”.

So 14 February it is.

Not for Lumpy Rug Day; that’s 3 May.  Neither for Ether Day; that’s 16 October.

Don’t be silly.

Happy Marquis de Sade Day.  Enjoy your spanking chocolate.  You can thank me later.

JamesIsIn

No Magic in Numbers

Let us see if we cannot tease out the truth of the matter concerning the much-talked-about events such as 12:12 on 12 December 2012.  I will begin by asserting that there is absolutely nothing interesting about this date and time as compared to any other except that certain persons enjoy talking (endlessly apparently) about trivial matters.

In order for the numeric values of a date or a time to have some meaning (beyond, of course, the simple marking of the current agreed-upon time and date), the numbers must be drawn from some segment of reality and that segment reality must be marching along at the numeric rate we happen to be using to divide time.

Trouble is, all of our systems for measuring time (and thus date) are fully arbitrary.

The first day of the year has been moved all over the place in our calendar and there are dozens of other calendars (currently and throughout history). Not all calendars have leap years or any other systematic method for adjusting the shift of the calendar over the course of time. This is because a year isn’t exactly 365 days. Nor is each day exactly 24 hours.

The number of months, days in months, and days in the year has also changed and is different in all those different calendars. October, November, and December are based on the Latin words for eight (Oct), nine (Nov), and ten (Dec) because they were the eighth, ninth, and tenth months of the Roman system (later Augustus and Julius got months).

The number of hours in a day has changed and was most recently suggested to move into decimal form. The French in the 1800’s decimalized most measurements but failed to convince anyone decimalizing time was important. Days were broken into ten hours each under some ancient systems. For some systems or eras each hour was not the same (some hours were longer or shorter). This was because day and night were divided at sunset and sunrise, so the day hours in winter were pretty short while the night hours of those same periods were pretty long.

If you are in the Pacific Time Zone, when are you at the correct time? Is at the beginning edge of the zone? The ending edge? We just agreed to create the various time zones according to arbitrary (and squirrelly lines around the globe), mostly for commercial and political reasons. Then you have shifts for daylight savings. And why is this so-called midnight the start of our day?

The idea that these numbers, which are of a totally random and arbitrary nature, have some meaning can only indicate the meaning exists solely in the mind of the espouser. All of these numbers we have assigned in a perfectly arbitrary fashion. They don’t represent anything in reality. We just made up some numbers and assigned them to random points. If they mean anything, they don’t do so in reality.

If you are still in doubt, feel free to make a donation to me of all your worldly possessions and I will save your eternal soul from damnation.

JamesIsIn

How Magic Is Destroying American Farms

We have these cool machines from Starbucks which are similar to the replicators on Star Trek and which are apparently made from Magic.  They are able to, among other things, spit out hot chocolate.

Magic and Friend
Magic and Friend

Of course Magic doesn’t use milk or cream.  Magic uses water.  You need Love to make cream and milk.  I guess.

So when the Magic spits out the hot chocolate I add some Half & Half to it.  The reason I add Half & Half is because we don’t have heavy cream or whipping cream.  I would prefer cream as this would make up for the lack of milk and the use of water.  Water is the antithesis of cream and cutting it with cream would give you something like it were made with proper milk.  But I can’t so I use Half & Half.

Everyone knows “watered down” and knows it sucks.  No one says “creamed down” because adding cream would go up and make things better.  So it seems strange to say cutting it with cream since what I’d really be doing would be cutting some cream with chocolate water but whatever.

I know what you’re thinking: “Why aren’t you drinking beer?”

Beer!
Beer!

You, sir or madame, are missing the point.

There are a lot of folks out there who get a cup of coffee and they say “hey, where’s the cream?” and the Coffee Jerk points to a little table with various coffee condiments.

The Pointing Barista
The Pointing Barista

There is sugar—maybe even sugar in the raw, whatever that is—right next to the Sweet & Low and the Splenda.  Then you might have a carafe of Half & Half and a chilled bin of non-dairy creamer.

No Cream?
No Cream?

Have you ever seen a non-dairy cow?  No?  You know why?  Because they, like Santa and bug-free programs, don’t exist!

What the fuck?!
What the fuck?!

Oh, and Splenda… Splenda?!  Splenda is exactly the opposite of splendid.  It’s shit.  Shit’s nasty.  Don’t put it in your mouth.  Did your mother teach you nothing?

Just Say No
Just Say No

Where was I?

Oh, yeah.  Cream…

Cream with Lavender
Cream with Lavender

The Coffee Jerk lied to the Patron asking for cream or the Patron didn’t really mean cream.  Otherwise the Patron would have landed at the coffee condiment counter and said “ok, so where’s the cream?!”  No cream.  No love.

No Cream = No Love

For those who would dispute this equation, I offer this mild proof.  Farmers love their cows and this love is used to make cream every day.  You say “there’s more to making cream than that and some cows are in factories” and I respond “go get your own fucking cow and love it and see if it doesn’t return some delicious whole milk”.

Love and Cream
Love and Cream

You are wondering why farms in America—and here I mean family farms—are in decline?  Wonder no longer.  Demand your cream!

Who Wants Some Cream?
Who Wants Some Cream?

Join my movement.

Our Fearless Leader
Our Fearless Leader
JamesIsIn

Thoughts on Internet Isolation

On the Internet no one knows your a Turing machine.

Of course, the problem for two Turing machines conversing over the Internet is that neither can be truly certain that the other is the Turing machine it thinks it is.

Recently I had an on-line discussion with a few friends concerning the brand of isolation unique to the Internet and how that particular fashion of isolation was moving humanity.  I would like to expand and expound for your pleasure and torment my current view on the matter (borrowing liberally from my friends).

One friend (Mr BG) pointed out to us that

The internet [sic] has made you all artificial. I don’t know who any of you are.  Some of you I remember from days gone by but mostly I don’t know you and it saddens me as I’ve not been part of your journey.

To which another (EHS) responded that she

had similar thoughts a few days ago….  The internet [sic] keeps us connected but doesn’t get us any closer to actually knowing each other.

I think these are true enough observations.  We know less of one another if our only connection is virtual.  We know only our mutual advertisements.

Leading up to my graduation from the UW I met on-line and began a friendship with a woman living in Spain.  She was French and Spanish and this was great for me to practice both my French and Spanish (though we often conversed in English).  As the end of my student life loomed closer we decided I should take a visit and see a little corner of Spain.  We had more than a year of intimate if virtual interactions by this time.  Yet when I disembarked that bus in Valencia we were newly met strangers all over again.  We knew facts about the other person, but we didn’t really know the other person.

Given this background I was immediately able to understand when CB said

It all depends on how you use the connections you’ve made… look on the bright side.  When I saw Ellie in the craft store, I immediately knew her face… and her story….  When I’m able to set up meetings/lunches/dates with equally busy people via this tool, I feel HAPPY that it exists, even if some on here aren’t as transparent as others.

[E]ven if I never see you in real life because you live far away, I appreciate your opinions and your presense [sic] in my life.

PEOPLE make the internet aftificial [sic], not the other way around

Not that we can reduce the Internet to a two sentence summation, but it does facilitate superficiality in an extraordinary way.  Not to mention the raw power available when we employ anonymity effectively.  (Many believe they are acting anonymously or that they have somehow limited their identifications to a select circle and are totally wrong, but that is not exactly what we are discussing.)

If many fall into the trap of propagating superficiality we are certainly right to lament it.  We may also feel an obligation to rebel against it, to reach out to those with whom we might connect.

AH pointed out that it may well be that the Internet (or more specifically social media sites like Facebook) expose the inner workings of a person’s being, rather than that these sites allow or promote this type of behaviour.

Probably the truth is that social sites (and perhaps the Internet in general) do promote self-centric behaviour and also expose in greater detail the inner workings of a person’s being.  Of course the problem with this increased exposure is in what I said earlier about only actually exposing one’s advertisements of oneself.  The context of this advertisement is necessarily stripped away due to the superficial nature of interactions.

Let’s come back to that point though because next Nate swept in in support of a more radical point of view:

… Borg Telepathy, which I (right now) believe is the best, good, and Right goal for human communication we have this new (semi) unmediated mode of communication. somwehere between “On the internet, no one knows you’re a Dog” and “Oh (damn) I just posted something that I didn’t mean to…” [sic]

He also offered a link to a paper by Jean Baudrillard called The Ecstasy of Communication, which I include for your interest.  Baudrillard can be a challenge to read, but the rewards are great so stick with it.

I think the important part is that there is too much information on the Web and thus we must radically filter that in-stream (or die).  This leads to us missing very much of the substance and replacing it with a sizable quantity of superficial information.

Facebook is a great example here (like Google before it).  You can only see a random segment of what your friends are posting (due to time and other factors).  There are dozens or hundreds or thousands of posts slipping down your wall (right now!) which you must miss.  In spite of this those you do chance upon are often fully irrelevant to your interests and so you use the tools available (ever-changing, thanks to the developers) to sculpt your in-stream into something manageable (I am here reminded of Sisyphus).

AH accepted

that a lot of substance winds up mixed in with all of the white noise but I also don’t feel like a lot of substance or real sharing is put out there.  Needle in a haystack.  As Nate said in a different conversation, I think people for the most part hold back on FB because it’s a quasi public space with a diverse audience.  I’d probably make more dirty jokes if I wasn’t friends with my Great Aunt Daphne.

I have several times had people stomp on my balls because I dissented with some profound or inane notion they put forward.  The thing about the Internet that is key here is that if you post your opinion you are nearly guaranteed to run into opposition.

There is the whole concern (now) with employers (potential or otherwise) judging by random Internet yarns or foibles.  We have all this newfound freedom (for speech and expression), but we are socially prohibited from using it lest we suffer the consequences.

And finally we are reduced to making sound bites if we want to get anyone to pay any attention to what we say.  This is the final devolution of our personal advertisements, the diminutive dimension of our soul-marketing.

Try not to go “boo hoo” here, but on a scale of things no one visits my blogs or posts comments.  This is not meant as a lament but merely a statement of fact.  I monitor the various posts and pages using analytics so I know when something gets a lot of hits, but I have no dilusions about anything I do here suddenly going viral.  Sure I write a lot of either philosophical or creative pieces and don’t post any pr0n or cute kitten videos, but you get the point.

This idea led Aubrey to point out that there was no “point in commenting [on your blog] if nobody can see my brilliance on display… it’s outside the ecosystem”.  An excellent piece of humor but as with all humor it is necessarily tied to the truth.

Aubrey is a great example for this point because he recently did a project (which turned into a book) where he drew one drawing each day, based on one of his friends’ Facebook status, for 100 days.  Someone asked him afterwards “What do you mean you’ve been drawing statuses?”.  One drawing (image) posted to his wall per day, each receiving many comments from his circle of friends (especially the person tagged because it was their status he drew from) for one hundred days, and yet in spite of all of that posting someone (a “pretty good friend”) still missed the whole thing.

(The book is called One Hundred Days Later, as was the project, and since it’s available for sale on the Internet it is likely that there exists someone who owns it who doesn’t know Aubrey and someone who is close friends with him who knows nothing about it.  You can buy it here.  Be famous.)

This makes perfect sense to me.  The Internet, social media sites, and especially Facebook are very much in the now.  Each post and page is tossed into a torrential river turbid and frothing.  If you miss 99.9% of what passes near you in this enormous waterway it’s no surprise (or shouldn’t be).

For what it’s worth.  Fight the good fight.

JamesIsIn

Is Facebook Decending?

As with anything popular it is also popular to complain about Facebook.  Now I feel like I get a free pass since my complaints are not of the class “Why did you move my cheese?” but rather “Why doesn’t your shit work as advertised?”.

Call me a hypocrite if you’d like.  I’ll wait.

Ok.  I’m glad you got that off your chest.

Today Facebook made an announcement:

Changes to How You Share Content in Notes

You currently automatically import content from your website or blog into your Facebook notes. Starting November 22nd, this feature will no longer be available, although you’ll still be able to write individual notes. The best way to share content from your website is to post links on your Wall. Learn more about notes.

I’ve been using this buggy feature since I learned I could do it.  It never really worked very well.  The reality is that I post the links myself anyway because their feed importer rarely does its job.  When it does work it takes hours or days to import rather than the minutes they claim.

The links Facebook provides back to my blog are confusing for users (presumably because Facebook wants to keep visitors on their site and not assist me in getting them to mine—which seems utterly antithetical to the spirit of the hyperlink).

In a way it’s not all that surprising they would make this maneuver.  Nonetheless, they chose to bag this feature after spending nearly zero effort in fixing it.  I mean if they can dump hundreds of hours of coding time to make the chat list appear on the right hand side of every page, surely they could fix an RSS feed importer.

As such I expressed myself:

Self-Expression
Self-Expression

As you can see, there is much they should be spending their coding hours fixing.

Facebook, we love you but seriously: fuck off.

JamesIsIn

Alarmists Rally Against UnReason

Well well well… we meet again my slippery sloped sloppy companion.  Global Warming you will yield!  And your sidekick—Global Climate Change—you are going down down down.  A scientist told me.

Only problem is he’s the black sheep, red headed, retarded, step-child scientist of the scientific community.  A while back my friend Bill posted a link concerning some alleged alarmists.  You can read that article here.

The alarming thing for me in that article was the alarming use of the word alarmist.  I stopped counting at six alarms (excluding the alarming title) and alarmingly tossed the whole alarming thing into the biased alarm bin.

Happily today (no alarms required) I was presented with an article over at Discover that poked some holes in the alarming theory.

Further the Discover article includes a link to the much coveted original publication which I present to you here.

The Discover article also includes a number of other valuable links, the most acerbic of which I post here for your consideration.  (“The bottom line is that there is NO merit whatsoever in this paper.”)

Don’t believe hype!  Or do.  Just be rational about it.

JamesIsIn

Voodoo Joe v Dr Doctor

I have a bad attitude. I am of the opinion that it’s science and medicine that make modern medical miracles possible and not the Magic Sky Man. Not only that but I think that one ought to thank the doctors and nurses for their roles in saving the ill and feeble when they have done all the work.

Voodoo Joe
Voodoo Joe

Here we have a clear case of confusion between places and actors. I was under the impression that the surgery-fu was to take place at a hospital and was to be performed by medical professionals each with a decade of medical training from an accredited university. Everyone else seems to understand that the liver magic will be taking place at Voodoo Joe’s Temple of Crazy by blind seers and a handful of witches.

I was also under the impression that this surgery was made possible by the extreme advances in medical science of which we are the benefactors, while everyone else seems to understand that removing a liver and replacing it is an act of magic only the Sky Man could facilitate.

I have even tried mocking the general position that the Magic Sky Man does shit that effects our petty lives.

Wishful Thinking
Wishful Thinking

This was taken literally. So all the folks who know me and my bad attitude interpret this as though, what?, I’ve converted over to their particular brands of crazy—rather than read it as sarcasm. C’mon. Wishful Thinking?

Somehow this annoys the fuck out of me. Ergo bad attitude.

I’d feel bad but I’m kinda busy right now using subatomic particles to make complex communications possible across the entire planet and even into space.

Thanks, Magic Sky Man.

JamesIsIn

I Allot a Lot to Each Lout.

Hey, Interwebers, it’s simple.

“I like you a lot.” It’s just like “I like you a bunch”. Nobody would write “I like you abunch”. Get it fucking strait!

A lot.

By way of contrast there is also an allotment as in “I will allot you three dollars for candy”.  That’s it.  There is no other.

Here is an easy sentence to help you keep this shit in line.

I allot a lot to each lout and two lots to each leach.

I know; I know: What an annoying prick.

Get it right.

[shakes head; walks away]

JamesIsIn

Long Live the Death of Pan and Scan

What year is this?  Oh, yeah.  Two thousand ten.  That’s way past Space: 1999.  And yet you can still make the mistake of buying or torrenting a so called Full Frame or Full Screen version of a film that was originally shot in a wider aspect ratio.

You can’t even buy a new 4×3 television to watch it on.

Let’s talk about that name for a moment.  Full Frame or Full Screen.  Like you’re getting all of something: FULL.  It ought to be called Cropped Screen or Cropped Frame.  You’re losing sometimes nearly half your screen real-estate through Pan and Scan.  So if we think of a motion picture as being half video and half audio, the distributor is cheating you out of a quarter of the film you just bought.

If you downloaded it via torrent you might think that you only wasted your time (or more accurately that someone else wasted your time), but damn it: time is money.   Either way you’re wasting little bits of your life, and you’re not giving the film makers their due.

To be fair there are plenty of films and shows that were originally shot such that they can legitimately claim the title Full Frame.

Any film shot prior to the invention and wide-spread use of anamorphic lenses and other wide screen techniques for instance—let’s say the early 1950’s—will not be a wide screen aspect ratio.  Any television show shot before the general acceptance of the inevitability of wide screen television—slowly over the last several years—will not be in a wide screen aspect ratio (Mork and Mindy, The Avengers).  These shows and films were shot in and should be presented in a Full Frame or 4×3 (or thereabouts) aspect ratio(s).

For anything shot in a wide screen aspect ratio, it’s time to bury (though not mourn) Pan and Scan.

(Pan and Scan being the technique whereby wide screen films are butchered converted into Cropped Frame versions.)

There are some great examples of how badly Pan and Scan can mangle a film.  One of my favorites turns the Fab Four into the Fab Three and cuts Old Fred in half:

Yellow Submarine
Yellow Submarine

Good-bye Pan and Scan; you will not be missed.

It’s the lash for any of ye caught with Full Frame booty.

(A quick search would suggest that one cannot buy Blu Ray Full Frame movies.  C’est vrai?  Enfin!)