Happy Birthday Dan

Watch out for those trees on the slopes! Happy birthday Bugdaddy.

Happy Birthday Pop

I hope you are becoming adjusted to your new digs, and someday maybe you'll get Quixote back to put on your wall (I just put it up as a main piece in my living room!). Happy birthday Dad...

Happy Birthday Al

Happy birthday Alex... This doesn't mean I wish you well in fantasy football, however.

Ill-usions

I've always been interested and entertained by how our brain works, or more specifically how we use it to percieve things. There are of course physical pieces to the puzzle (eyes, ears, etc), but there are also the important ingredients of previous experience and memory. What we expect to see or hear sometimes (most of the time) influences what we think we do see or hear. The perennial examples of how to play on our perception are undoubtedly optical illusions.

Firstly, please check this out. This illusion is an interesting take on some older ideas. We've seen images that play on color before, but few that throw in actual, and not perceived, animation. The effect, in this case, is that of disappearing dots, and I do not doubt that it revolves around color theory and (I think) persistence of vision.


Here's another color-related favorite of mine. The brain here makes it difficult to ignore the words we are reading. I find it indicative of our evolved dependence on the written word. Think you can do it? Try moving quickly by the words; that seems to help.

Lastly, I'll throw out this one, one of my favorite examples of percieved animation:

Something everyone can understand

Imagine a global society in the future where technology has advanced enough to produce a viable, universal translater. Everyone around the world can communicate with each other without having to learn any kind of new language thanks to two small implants, one that acts as a broadcaster and the other as a receiver. Whatever a person is saying gets transmitted out and then picked up by whomever is in earshot (which of course could span miles!) and subsequently translated into a language the person who is "listening" can understand. Sounds great, eh? What kinds of consequences could such a technology have?

In this futuristic society, the transmitting part of the technology depends on reading the muscular movements of the speaker alone, and no actual sound is required. Over time, as the popularity and availability of the implants increased, people became so dependant on them and got them at such an early age, the need for actually producing sounds diminished. Many people never even developed their vocal chords, as they never had any use for them in their life whatsoever. Communication had become almost strictly technological, and the transmitter could be easily fine-tuned to broadcast to a wider range, or even limited to an individual (their form of whispering)...even stereos and televisions (or, more appropriately, their future counterparts) transmitted sounds without sound in every language. Though none spoke, however, many people had become pretty good at whistling.

As strange as it sounds to us, this future world had an incredible international scene, thanks in no small part to the universal translator. Once people from different parts of the world could understand each other, a remarkable and unexpected thing happened: they resolved most differences and figured out how to get along. Commerce, technology, government, education, medicine, and the collective knowledge base of our planet increased exponentially. From the point of view of an alien, things seemed well in the world.

The domestic scene, however, was far from ideal. There developed a great rift between the haves and the have-nots, moreso than ever in history, due ironically to a lack of communication. Those who couldn't afford the implants were pushed lower and lower in class, until they were eventually shuffled under the rug by the powers that would be. As one may have predicted, it was only a matter of time before these surpressed peoples, or "talkies", as they were called, began to organize and revolt. They used crude weapons and guerilla strategies that revolved around high-pitched sounds, exploiting a weakness their enemy developed through sustained use of their "precious technology". Unfortunately, the universal translator did not speak Pissed Off Lower Class.

Well, as fantastic (and wildy fictional) as this may sound, the aforementioned technology is already making an appearance in a primitive form. Read on:

Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
Pittsburgh Tribune-Review

Easily tracked and traced

Reprinted from the Boston Globe, Monday October 24, 2005:

Privacy worries? Don't print in color
Hiawatha Bray

You've got to love black-and-white laser printers. You can get a good one for $150 or so, and each toner cartidge cranks out thousands of pages before you need a refill. Best of all, they don't spy on you.

You can't say the same about color laser printers, as we learned last week. Actually, we should have learned it nearly a year ago. That's when PC World magazine reported that makers of color laser printers, in cooperation with law enforcement agencies, have programmed their machines to print tiny yellow dots on every printed document. These dots are almost invisible under normal conditions, but can be spotted by anyone with a magnifier and the right sort of lighting.

Most of us ignored the news, but not the civil libertarians at the Electronic Frontier Foundation in San Francisco. The group asked its members to mail in documents generated by dozens of color laser printers. They got hundreds of submissions run off on printers made by a variety of manufacturers - Minolta, Canon, Hewlett-Packard and Xerox, among others.

Last week, the foundation annonced it had cracked the code on a document generated by a Xerox printer. By reading the yellow dots, staff members were able to identify the serial number of the very machine that had produced the printout.

No big deal, unless you're a counterfeiter. "Ten years ago, 1 percent of counterfeit currency was produced by copiers and printers; now it's 56 percent," said Eric Zahren, spokesman for the US Secret Service, the government agency that battles the funny-money trade. So the Secret Service and other security agencies persuaded printer makers to embed subtle markers into their machines. And not just laser printers, said Edward Delp, a professor of electrical engineering at Purdue University. "Color copiers have done this for a long time," said Delp.

As a result, police can play spot-the-dots with pieces of phony currency, then use sales records to trace the machine and its owner.

Of course, the same technique can be used to identify anything else from the printer. But Zahren says privacy-conscious citizens have nothing to fear. "You only have to worry about it identifying you if you have partaken in illegal activity," he said.

Famous last words? Maybe not. Why would cops bother to inspect the billions of pages printed every day, just to figure out which printer produced them? It might be worthwhile to study anonymous ransom notes or death threats. But usually it's obvious where a document came from; the cops needn't bother looking for subtle yellow dots.

Then again, few of us live in countries with a low regard for human rights. Pity the poor Cuban worshipper at a secret church who cranks out a few religious tracts on the office laser printer. Let one of those tracts fall into an informant's hands, and the cops will know exactly where to find him.

"These printers are being sold all over the world," said Seth Schoen, staff technologist for the Electronic Frontier Foundation. No doubt the dictators will use the codes for their intended purpose, but only a fool would expect it to stop there. Schoen admitted the dots pose little threat to the privacy of Americans. But, he added, "If I were in China, for example, it might be a real problem."

It's enough to make you wonder how many more of our gadgets are keeping an eye on us. Cellphones come to mind. A federal regulation, issued for our own good, requires cell phone systems to add features that can locate a phone to within a few yards. That way, when you dial 911 from a burning building, the firefighters can find you before the flames do.

But the same technology can also let the police track your every move. The locator software can be activated without any warning, converting any cheap cellphone into a homing beacon. Just the thing for keeping somebody under constant surveillance.

You'd hope the police would need a warrant for this kind of snooping. Warrants require the cops to show a judge some evidence the target of the surveillance has committed a crime. But the US Justice Department has instead relied on subpoenas. A judge will issue one of these if the police merely claim that it might produce information that will help crack a case. Federal courts have routinely granted such subpoenas.

But in August, a federal magistrate, james Orenstein, ruled that the collection of electronic location data from a cellphone is little different from a wiretap. For that, you need a full-fledged wiretap warrant, he said. The Justice Department has scoffed at Orenstein's argument and is appealing, with good reason. The federal courts approved just 730 wiretap warrants last year, with state governments permitting another 1,000 or so. So if Orenstein prevails, a cop will need a lot more than a hunch before spying on our cellphones.

Still, it's worth at least a little worry. In her new book "Spychips", privacy activist Katherine Albrecht warns of efforts to embed digital trackers into every item we buy. Perhaps we should worry more about all the tracking devices we already own - the cellphones with locator chips, the unique codes being broadcast by every wireless Internet router, and of course the paper scrolling out of your color laser printer, with your signature on every page, like it or not.

Click here to read the EFF story.

Bud Pong...with water???

Anheuser-Busch, in a recent attempt to sell more beer (because they don't sell enough?), has been manufacturing and promoting a new game called "Bud Pong". Chances are, if you've ever been to college parties, you've seen somewhere along the line a popular drinking game called "Beer Pong", where you bounce a ping-pong ball into glasses of beer in an attempt to make other people drink. This is essentially the same thing, except Anheuser-Busch insists you use water, not beer, and they do so with a straight face!

"The intent of this program was to provide adults who socialize in bars with a fun activity." said Anheuser-Busch spokeswoman Francine I. Katz. Give me a break. I can imagine the ad-wizard who suggested the beer company promote a drinking game, and the subsequent worry that such a promotion would interefere with whatever kind of "responsible drinking" message they were also trying to push. Solution? WATER, of course.

Because of the complete unoriginality of the game's rules, it wasn't too long before bargoers everywhere started to use "Bud Pong" as a drinking game. So, the game gets pulled, much to the dismay, and imagined surprise, of Anheuser-Busch's powers-that-be. Imagine that, people at a bar using beer instead of water....

This whole endeavor was incredibly irresponsible. How can the country's largest brewer think for a second that they weren't promoting a drinking game? The fact is they didn't, and they knew that most young people (including those underage) are ususally irresponsible enough themselves to find whatever excuse they can to binge drink...i.e. drinking games. This was a joke to begin with.

On a final note, drinking large amount of water isn't always a good idea, either. I can remember an incident when I was in high school, where I was at this kids house in Mattapan. There were four or five kids playing a drinking version of "Dungeons and Dragons" (yes, its true). One of the kids I came with (a strange bird named Billy), wanted to play but insisted he didn't want to drink (you'd think this was honorable, but he was just being difficult). So, the host let him play with one proviso: if he had to drink, he would drink water...a lot of water. He foolishly agreed. Before long Billy drank somewhere in the neighborhood of 1.5 gallons of water, and shortly thereafter proceeded to hurl it all back up, all over the place. Sooo much watery vomit....

The lesson learned: I'd rather play Beer Pong.

related Linx:
Anheuser-Busch pulls 'water' drinking game
Players drinking -- gasp! -- beer, so game gets bounced
'If you win, you win. If you lose, you drink. There's no negative'
Official Beer Pong Table.com

Kickball Lives!

I've always been frustrated that my good friend, JForce, always found an excuse, year after year, for not being able to be on our Sunday league baseball team. "I'm in a kickball league" he says. Kickball? Over baseball? C'mon. Who outside of the majority of elementary school students across the nation plays kickball?

Apparently a lot of people. And I must admit after watching this clip, I'm kinda wanting to play a little myself. It's all about hitting it on the bounce, I remember, and the crackly concrete we played on made for plenty of bounces. And who can say no to a sport that allows for legally throwing something at an opposing player...

So Force, I hear, is the captain and star pitcher for his team, "Chicks Like It Tickled" (um, an acronym, perhaps?). Congrats on an undefeated season guys.

Who's Charles Rocket?

Charles Rocket 1949-2005

I wasn't sure who this guy was when I read the report that he'd died. The article mentioned something about him being on SNL (another tragic SNL death) and being thrown off and banned after dropping an F-bomb on live TV. So I looked and found a picture of this guy and, low and behold, he was one of those actors who you've seen in a bunch of movies prompting you to say "oh, it's THAT guy".

After looking at his IMDB filmography, I was reminded of where I'd seen him before; some notable roles included those in "Dances with Wolves", "How I Got Into College" (I actually saw this in the theater...), "Short Cuts", "Dumb and Dumber", and my personal favorite, "Earth Girls Are Easy". This last one is one of the most underrated movies of all time, featuring an all-star cast including Geena Davis, Jim Carrey, Jeff Goldblum, Damon Wayans, and the other, not-downtown Julie Brown. You can't beat alien slapstick in primary colors, now can you?

This movie also holds a special place in my heart, as it was what I saw the very first day I hooked an entire day of school. I went to the Copley mall with this kid named Eric (I don't think I ever saw him again), saw a couple of older girls (maybe 14 or 15 years old) and, with a pre-adolescent burst of hutzpa asked them to come watch that movie with us. They agreed, provided we paid for them to get in. We did, and no sooner had we gotten into the old Copley theater than the girls "went to the bathroom", never to be seen again....

Maybe we should have taken them to see Batman instead...

Happy Birthday Liam

Ah, Liam. Old Man. Oldie. Happy 30th to ya pal. Whaddaya know, you're old...

ALDS 2005 Game 3, Chicago 5 - Boston 3

Well, its over, and I have no complaints. There will of course be plenty of complaining on radio shows and discussion boards all winter...rants about how Terry Francona couldn't manage a lemonade stand, or about how much "Millar sucks" (walking out of Fenway tonight I heard that exact quote at least 15 times), or about how overpriced Damon will be or how bad our pitching situation is (plus or minus a Papelbon)...we'll hear it all. Blow off some steam, sure, but I contend there is no need for complaints. I was reminded again tonight of how much of an impact (finally) winning a World Series had on me. I was sort of disappointed, but I've been much lower in years past. Hell, after Game 3 of last year's ALCS I was ready to give up on anything baseball related whatsoever, and cursed my father for ever introducing me to the whole thing in the first place. But not this time. No, not after what happened last year. I wish they won, of course, but they didn't, and for the first time in my life, I'm OK with that. (damn, I DO wish they won, though).

The Red Sox did have their chances. It was nice to see Manny's and Ortiz' bats come around, and it would have been even better if the Sox put men on base BEFORE any of those precious few Freddy Garcia mistakes. After Manny's second shot, the Red Sox managed to load the bases with a pinch-hitting Varitek coming up with nobody out. It looked like a great situation with the then-tying run only 90 feet away and the Captain at the plate. Some long at-bats, but no runs. Not a walk, a hit by pitch, not even a sacrifice. Definitely frustrating. That particular inning hurt even more after the White Sox elitely manufactured an insurance run in the 8th with a leadoff double, a sacrifice bunt to 3rd, and finishing with a suicide squeeze for good measure. Although we have seen these guys come back from these kinds of deficits before, they just couldn't pull it off this year. Damn. Damn damn damn...

Finally, an anecdote: throughout the game there were these two Chicago fans about 8 rows in front of us who, much like many of us would do if the roles were reversed, would stand up and cheer after every good White Sox play. When Konerko hit the 2 run job, however, they stood up and TURNED AROUND...obviously a move that requires some kind of response. It was my distinct pleasure, along with the old man, to start a directed "1917" chant just for them for them. I must admit, it felt a little weird to be one of the people who jeer fans of a team that hadn't won a World Series for over 80 years (not even a postseason series!), but it was definitely effective. Sit down.

After the last pitch, the old man and I stayed seated for a while watching everyone leave and the grounds crew start their work. I looked over at him, then the wall and outfield. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the flag moving, then realized what else was happening: the 2004 World Series Championship banner was being lowered for the last time at Fenway.

I look forward to watching the next one go up.

Hard to Swallow...

There are a few things in life I think worth seeing at least once...I never thought half of an American alligator hanging out of what used to be a 13-foot python would be one of them. The python was clearly eating with its eyes and ate so much it burst, and to this I can relate (minus the bursting part). Thankfully I never had a pizza or a chicken sandwich trying to claw its way out of me.

read the article on Boston.com

I hope this is some kind of hidden metaphor for the Sox...a sign if you will. Maybe the python is the White Sox and the alligator is the Red Sox. Just when the python thought it was going to swallow the gator whole (which no one would have predicted), the gator comes clawing back, ultimately defeating the confident python when it seemed there was no hope left of doing so....

I just wish the metaphorical alligator survives the experience.

ALDS 2005 Game 2, Chicago 5 - Boston 4

I know it looks bad, but we've all been here before. It seems as though every year the Red Sox' backs are up against one wall or another. I believe they will win Friday, and also Saturday, forcing a Game 5.

How many times can the Graffanino error possibly be shown? I swear, it's video fodder for everyone in the country who misses talking about the "curse", particularly those in and around New Jerk City who can't throw in enough Buckner references. Sorry, Graffanino is no Buckner and that game was no Game 6 of the World Series. It was a game changing play, but Wells still gave up that homer himself, and the Boston bats couldn't produce ONE run in the 4 innings after that. It was a tough loss, that's all.

At least the Yankees lost too. I love it when A-Fraud blows a big play. Talk about anti-clutch!

The Red Sox have the best home record this year, and the White Sox have the best road record. Wakefield has been our best pitcher, and with any other knuckleballer, I think it'll come down to what side of the bed he "Wake"s up on Friday morning.

Hopefully it's the "I'm gonna throw a 2-hitter" side.

ALDS 2005 Game 1, Chicago 14 - Boston 2

It was only Game 1.

It's this time of year that I forgo and kind of usual morning radio show in lieu of WEEI. Everyone can't believe Francona's decision to stick with Clement as long as he did (or Millar for that matter), nor can they see any kind of logic in bringing Arroyo in for the 8th as opposed to the 4th (we saw Bradford instead). Might Francona be thinking that BroYo may get the nod for (a potential) Game 5 and wanted to get him a little work? I'm sure Clement is a nice guy and all, but this IS the postseason, and the Sox can't afford to let buddy-buddyness dictate their series strategy. Why WASN'T Olerud out there? I heard someone rattle of Millar's (good) career statistics against Contreras as a reason. Problem is, that was when Millar could break double digits in homers and reach 51 RBI, and from when Contreras was with the Yankers, who had no idea how to coach him. Contreras is a GOOD pitcher now, and Millar is a SLUMPING hitter. That move I disagree with...stupid.

All of this of course comes close on the heels of questioning the Red Sox ALDS roster, and their choice to keep only 10 pitchers, with Machado essentially taking the place of DiNardo, who would have made 11. Is this an attempt by the management to show the starting pitchers that they have confidence in them? Francona and co. threw the game out when it was 8-2, but still managed to use 1/2 of the bullpen in the process.

I keep telling myself, it was only Game 1. Tonight we win and all is right with the world again.

Big Papi: as clutch as they come...

For those who still say clutch hitting is a myth, try watching a Red Sox game or two, particularly when they are in a pennant race or a postseason. There's this guy, his name is David, who has a knack of coming up in big situations and producing. He was at it again last night, first slamming an 8th inning homer to tie the game, then tagging a Batista fastball up the middle, just to the left of the shift, knocking in Johnny Damon from 2nd to win the game. Looks like all that directed energy business was at work last night at Fenway... now just 3 to go at Fenway against the Yankers to see if we win the division / go to the playoffs for what would be a club-record 3 years in a row.

I feel like I've seen this before....

Weird Science Red Sox

Great article by Eric Leskowitz at Boston.com today.

This article comes just in time, too, as we'll need to give the Red Sox all the directed positive energy we can muster this weekend (and hopefully into the next week too).

F the Yankers.

Six (Red) Flags

So Mary and I go to Six Flags New England yesterday as part of her birthday weekend. With the exception of the overpriced food ($7 for a slice of cheese pizza), I knew it was going to be a good time; I completely revert to adolescence when it comes to things like amusement parks. The Scrambler, frisbee rides, waterslides, and of course roller coasters...many many roller coasters. In fact there were more there yesterday than I ever remember; something like 7 or 8. We got there and knew we wanted to hit up each one of them.

Things were going well; the weather was perfect and the park wasn't too crowded (thanks to something called "The Big E"). We went on a couple of coasters right away, including "Superman", the biggest and longest coaster in the country, which I had been on but Mary hadn't. Then we move over to one of my favorites, the "Mind Eraser".

Much like the drink by the same name, this coaster has been known to scramble one's brains and cross one's eyes (minus the straw). This coaster has it all...twists, turns, loop-dee-loops, and a whole lotta jerking around and not knowing where the ride will take you next. Even though I'd been on it multiple times, it never gets old and I'm always thrilled. This time, however, I got more of a scare than I bargained for.

You sit down in a seat suspended from above and with your feet dangling, and like any ride that involves high speeds and upside-down sections, there is a pressure-controlled safety harness that comes down over your shoulders. After a very long wait in line, Mary and I hop into our seats, and then one of the attendants made his rounds ensuring everyone was securely "buckled in". This guy gives my harness an extra push, shoving it in one click further than I was able to, giving Mary a small chuckle and me a small reminder that there are certain parts of my body that one shouldn't put too much pressure on. "I don't want you falling out, now." she smiled, and while I appreciated the concern, I definitely scoffed at the idea of that happening...

The ride started, and as soon as we entered the first loop, I heard a "click" and felt the harness release a notch...

My hands grabbed the handles on the harness faster than I could think of what to do. I imagined for a moment the worst case scenario, then thought it must have been that extra push the attendant gave. Maybe he didn't fully get to the next notch?

As we finished the first loop and went into a twist, it happened again: another "click" and another degree of safety gone...

At this point I clamped my legs underneath the seat and thought of all the movie and TV scenes I'd seen of roller coasters gone wrong. The one that stuck out in my mind (don't ask why I remembered THIS at THAT time) was one of the opening scenes from the remake of "House on Haunted Hill" where a roller coaster goes flying of the rail and into the air, sending all the riders to certain death.

I tried to remember if there was another safety measure: a seat belt, metal pin...something. Needless to say, I was as tense as a stone. As the roller coaster ride of my life went on, I tried to come up with a plan in case the harness came loose. Was I to hold onto the handles as best I could? Reach out and try to grab the seat in front of me? Let go and take my chances with the fall?

Finally the ride came to an end. As macho as I may portend to be, I realized I was genuinely scared. That shit was f#!&@ scary.

I told Mary about what just happened to me, and she agreed it would be wise to let someone know. So, after everyone got off and shuffled away down the exit ramp, I pulled one of the attendants aside and in a low voice, so as not to alarm anyone, informed him of what transpired and what seat I was in. As we walked off, I saw that attendant go over and tell the operator, then watched as that operator subsequently told everyone to get off the ride. They spent the next 20 minutes or so examining the seats, then ran the ride once with one of the attendants in the seat in question, guinea-pig stylee (that makes sense!).

As Mary and I walked away from the scene and I related to her more of what I'd just experienced, she turned to me and said the best thing I'd heard all day:

"How bout a ride on the Ferris Wheel?"

Happy Birthday Mary

Happy Birthday sweets...I hope you like your gifts.

Nice hoodie!

Happy Birthday Gwaz

Happy 61st Ron!

Methinks you will enjoy thoust Shakespeare action figure...

More of these action figures here.

ADIOS, or Language Math

I thought this interesting enough to post:

ADIOS, or Automatic Distillation of Structure

This raises questions about language, and (very) indirectly, about how one thinks. People have been in search of patterns to how we think about things for centuries; how far away from that are patterns to how we communicate with each other?

Happy Birthday Sam

21 today. don't be stoopid.

21st Birthday Drinking Pyramid
Turning 21 finally loses its mystique
B.R.A.D. - Be Responsible About Drinking.

Opening Day 2005

Of all of the baseball-related things I've had the pleasure of experiencing first-hand over the years, the 2005 Opening Day Ceremonies at Fenway Park had to be one of the best...right up there with the 99 All-Star Game fanfare (with the last appearance of Ted Williams at Fenway and some mammoth Mark McGuire homers) and games 4 and 5 of last year's ALCS against the New York Chokers, er, Yankers. These guys really know how to do it here, and what we saw there truly lived up to at least my expectations.

Some had to complain, however, as has become the nature of the Boston Sports fan...more specifically the Boston Sports Radio personalities. Granted, the song written by Terry Cashman, "Teddy Ballgame", wasn't exactly the catchiest tune on the planet, but I think most nay-sayers simply missed the point here. Stop complaining...the Sox won the series.

I knew the Red Sox would pull out all the stops for this one. What a treat it was to see the banner raised, Boston sports all-time guys like Orr and Russell throw out the first pitches, and of course the distribution of the rings, particularly the one that went to Johnny Pesky. Standing ovation, no question. Tear in the eye, no doubt.

Other highlights worth mentioning: the uproarious applause and sarcastic standing ovation given to Mariano Rivera upon his introduction. He was cool about it, grinning ear to ear, and even gave a wave to the crowd...Joe Torre also got a loud ovation, though I got the sense it was much more on the genuine side, which was nice. Things are different around here now as far as the hatred of the Yankees is concerened; they have been defeated, in a major way, and it seems as though the fans are now actually allowing for a bit of respect to be shown to at least one of our most hated rivals. The comical highlight of the day came when, during a moment of silence for the recently deceased Dick Raditz, a fan on left field VERY clearly shouted "A-Rod, you SUCK!", a comment heard by apparently 90% of the people there and that led to a round of chuckles and gaffaws.

Oh, then the Sox beat the Yankess...always a great way to start the home season...

Sincerely, California

Forwarded from a Professor at M.I.T.

Dear President Bush:

Congratulations on your victory over all us non-evangelicals. Actually, we're a bit ticked off here in California, so we're leaving. California will now be its own country, and we're taking all the Blue States with us. In case you are not aware, that includes Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois, and all of the Northeast. We spoke to God, and God agrees that this split will be beneficial to almost everybody, and especially to us in the new country of California. In fact, he's so excited, God is going to shift the whole country at 4:30 pm EST this Friday. Therefore, please let everyone know they need to be back in their states by then.

So you get Texas and all the former slave states. We get the Governator, stem cell research and the best beaches. We get Elliot Spitzer. You get Ken Lay. We get the Statue of Liberty. You get OpryLand. We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom. We get Harvard. You get Ole' Miss. We get 85% of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get all the technological innovation in Alabama. We get about two-thirds of the tax revenue, and you get to make the red states pay their fair share. Since our divorce rate is 22% lower than the Christian Coalition's, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms to support, and we know how much you like that. Did I mention we produce about 70% of the nation's veggies?  But heck, the only greens the Bible-thumpers eat are the pickles on their Big Macs. Oh yeah, another thing, don't plan on serving California wine at your state dinners. From now on it's imported French wine for you. (Ouch, bet that hurts!)

Just so we're clear, the country of California will be pro-choice and anti-war. Speaking of war, we're going to want all Blue States' citizens back from Iraq. If you need people to fight, just ask your evangelicals. They have tons of kids they're willing to send to their deaths for absolutely no purpose. And they don't care if you don't show pictures of their kids' caskets coming home. Anyway, we wish you all the best in the next four years and we hope, really hope, you find those missing weapons of mass destruction. Seriously. Soon.

With the Blue States in hand, the Democrats have firm control of 80% of the country's fresh water, over 90% of our pineapple and lettuce, 92% of all fresh fruit production, 93% of the artichoke production, 95% of America's export quality wines, 90% of all cheese production, 90% of the high tech industry, most of the US low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools, plus Amherst, Stanford, Berkeley, CalTech and MIT. We can live simply but well.

The Red States, on the other hand, now have to cope with 88% of all obese Americans (and their projected health care cost spike), 92% of all US mosquitoes, nearly 100% of all tornadoes, 90% of all hurricanes, 99% of all Southern Baptists, 100% of all Televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia...a high price to pay for controlling the presidency. Additionally, 38% of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually eaten by a whale, 62% believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the death penalty or  gun laws, 44% believe that evolution is just a theory, 53% that Saddam Hussein was involved in 9/11 and - most hard to grasp - 61% that Bush is a person of moral conviction.

Sincerely,
California

Who knows if any of the stats are accurate. I love the facetious delivery, though...

We'll Miss You, Monster

Dick Radatz. The Monster.

He's one of the names forever linked to the Red Sox uniform. Though he was given his most recognizable moniker because of his looming stature and blazing fastball, and was even known for a short while as the less acceptable "Creature" on an WEEI show, he never struck me as one with an attitude problem or undesirable disposition in any way. He was a big man with a big smile, and he grew even bigger as he got older, both in size and reputation; I can see how opposing batters may have felt a bit intimidated as they looked out to the mound and saw him. He was one of if not the most successful relievers of his time, a time where stats like "saves" had a different definition. The man had 181 strikeouts as a reliever in 1964. I never saw him play, but I have had the pleasure of listening to his scratchy but cheerful voice as he was a regular on TV postgame shows, local radio shows, and Red Sox related events.

Many stories and factoids are told of Radatz, and many artcles will undoubtedly be written about him as a result of his untimely death. Here, for what they are worth, are my favorite Radatz factoid and my favorite Raditz-related memory.

Mickey Mantle, the Yankee great who is unquestionably one of the greatest all-around ballplayers of all-time, was the man who gave Radatz his ominous nickname, and he had good reason to think of this opposing pitcher this way. For his career, Mantle was 1-66 against Radatz, with 1HR and 44K. Unreal. I guess Radatz had Mantle's number, eh?

I remember one afternoon listening to WEEI in the afternoon, and the guests that day included Rico Petricelli, in studio, and Dennis Eckersley via phone. At one point Eck said something about relievers, and I think Radatz in particular, that really pissed off Rico, who promptly challenged Eck to come down to the station to "discuss the matter further". Nobody messes with the Monster, Hall of Fame or not, at least not when his former teammates are around, testament to the quality of both his pitching ability and his character.

Everyone in Red Sox nation as well as anyone who knows the game of baseball will miss Dick Radatz. He will always be Fenway's most famous and revered Monster, as far as I'm concerned.

RedSox.com Article
HOF Article
Boston.com article

Red Sox Reflections

My father dug this out from his email archive. It was something he sent to a friend the day after the Sox won the Series.

Buenos Dias

I hope your apartment stuff is going well. As I take a break from my first class this morning, I'm still pinching myself about what happened with the olde towne team this past week. I'd like to share some of my experiences with you.

Saturday, October 16th, as we're leaving the 19 to 8 debacle with the Yankees, Spencer says, "I hate the Red Sox. I hate baseball. I'm sorry you ever taught me to love them."

Dmitri the pizza guy was so excited last Wednesday night, he gave my meal for free. Top of the first, Sox go ahead. Middle of the third, Edwin calls, "Whaoaoao, youfuckhuhwawawa!"
"Hey Edwin, where are you?
"Hey brother, Amascarawcelebrateshithafucknyou!"
"Alright man, be careful, OK?"
"Whassamatta, How come you're not fucknawawawa, huh?"
"Call me back later, Edwin."
Click
Bottom of the sixth, Spencer calls, "Hey, you OK?"
"Everything's cool, what are you doing?"
"I'm at Al's place with a bunch of people. Dad, do you believe this is really happening?
"Not really; I think that's my problem."
"Call you back later."
"Cool. Bye."
Seventh inning stretch, during "God Bless America:"
Sister-in-law Denise calls, "Joe, I admire how you've done this over the years, every day, every night with this team. These past three weeks have been too much for me."
"It's a labor of love Denise."
"Why aren't you with Spence?"
"He invited me to be with him and his pals, but I think I have to do this alone."
"Are you going to be alright?"
"Sure. The pizza is already sliced. No knives necessary."
"Ha ha. bye."
"Bye."
Top of the eighth: Edwin: "Fahooshawooh man! Come on, bawashooma..."
"I have another call, Edwin."
"JOE! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN'?'
"Talking to someone I don't know."
"IT'S EDDY!'
It was Crazy Eddy. When I was a teenager, Eddy lived across the street. He had a great way of dealing with stress. When he became overwhelmed with everything, like a crazy person, he would run up and down the street screaming, "FUCK YOU, FUCK ME, FUCK EVERYBODY!"
"Hey Eddy, thanks for calling. Fuck you."
"FUCK ME? FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYBODY!"
click.
Middle of the ninth. Edwin: "Are you ready to scrawhoshowasalooga?"
"I promise, when it's over, I will."
click.
As soon as the game was over, I was stunned, as a matter of fact, I still am. I watched all of the post game hoopla until 3:00am. Edwin called twice more, each time more indecipherable than the previous time. Denise called one more time, just to check on my welfare.
2:30am- Spencer:"Dad, I'm on the corner of Boylston and Mass. Ave. I want to share with you just how great this is."
"Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate that."
"Dad?"
"Yeah, Spence?"
"I love you."

Ahhh...what a touching ending. Needless to say watching the Red Sox finally win a World Series was an experience abound with joy and anticipation (I even set up a video camera in the room in which we were watching the game and recorded us watching the ninth inning, just to capture the moment forever...call me geeky, whatever). Shortly after the game I called on Pop, and when he didn't answer I feared the worst: death by elation. Luckily, he called back a few minutes later, and we had a moment.

I also had lots of friends calling me that night, and it was great to hear from so many thoroughly jubilant people. The city was electric, and it was a no-brainer that if there was ever a night to hit the city streets and celebrate, it was that night in Boston. Horns a-honkin, hi-fives a-slappin, and a moutain of smiles were had that night, and I just had to call the old man, sleeping or not, to at least sort of be there with me.

Baseball, to me, is more than just something my father and I both enjoy; it's the one thing I affiliate most with him and my relationship with him. As happy as I was that night, I was more excited to think of what he was feeling, and suddenly I found myself thinking not of the victory at all, but rather about how lucky I was to have this guy as a parent, and a friend.


So, all the heartfelt stuff aside, here we are at mid-March, in the midst of spring training, and I still haven't completely accepted the outcome of the biggest postseason in Red Sox history. I mean, I know they won, and I've watched the highlight DVDs several times each since then, but in the back of my head it's so surreal it's as if it never happened.

It did, though...

The Red Sox finally won the World Series.

AIM Privacy Scam

Ah, the internet. Home to so much connectivity and convenience, so much ability and information. It seems as though everyone I know uses it in one way or another, if only to use email or check the local weather...even my father checks out sports stories, and my mother stays (somewhat) hip to the latest music. The ability to expoit the resources available is not merely limited to us end users, however, and AOL is taking its own advantage of the world wide web's relative childhood and unregulated nature.

AOL announced their new terms of service recently, in which they boldy declare that any information you or I send over AIM or any AIM-compatible service essentially belongs to them, and they can use it any way they want. This includes your "lol"s, your cameraphone pics, audio and video chats, and anything else you send across IM. We might as well grant the USPS the right to open every letter they handle and do what they want with the contents. I see this as a blatant, albeit not yet illegal, invasion of our privacy.

So how do we deal with the AOL eye looking constantly over our shoulders? There seem to be three basic choices: deal with it and don't send sensitive information over IM, encrypt everything you do send, or stop using AIM altogether. I am at a point where I rely on IM as a major means of communication, so I don't want to give it up, and I already employ a "no sensitive information" rule. My favorite client, iChat, has no kind of encryption capability (so far as I know), and some of the other mac-happy clients do not have audio nor video chat capabilities. Ugh...if anyone knows of an easy encryption method for IM, lemme know.

AOL is now more of a bullshit organization than ever. Do we need some new kind of onine legislation? If so, what should it address? In what ways would any new kind of regulation affect us, and what we currently are able to get away with?

Read the story

We all hate being wrong.

I came across this in a book I'm reading, and thought it worth archiving somewhere...

From The Mind in the Making by James Harvey Robinson:

We sometimes find ourselves changing our minds without any resistance or heavy emotion, but if we are told we are wrong, we resent the imputation and harden our hearts. We are incredibly heedless in the formation of our beliefs, but find ourselves filled with an illicit passion for them when anyone proposes to rob us of their companionship. It is obviously not the ideas themselves that are dear to us, but our self-esteem which is threatened....The little word "my" is the most important one in human affairs, and properly to reckon with it is the beginning of wisdom. It has the same force whether it is "my" dinner, "my" dog, and "my" house, or "my" father, "my" country, and "my" God. We not only resent the imputation that our watch is wrong, or our car shabby, but that our conception of the canals on Mars, of the pronunciation of "Epictetus", of the medicinal value of salicin, or of the date of Sargon I is subject to revision. We like to continue to believe what we have been accustomed to accept as true, and the resentment aroused when doubt is cast upon any of our assumptions leads us to seek every manner of excuse for clinging to it. The result is that most of our so-called reasoning consists in finding arguments for going on believing as we already do.

Heeyah and Theyah

For the record, having and using a Boston accent outside of Boston is a secret pleasure, particularly if you are meeting people for the first time. Sometimes you get a feeling that you are representing your hometown, and I am happy to represent Boston...every part of it. I also think I can do a much better job of it than, say, Ben Affleck or Rob Mariano.

You don't really notice how much of an accent you have until you travel, and sometimes being in other places subconsciously (and maybe even sometimes consciously) amplifies the phoenetics unique to your accent. At one point in a conversation tonight the perennial "I love your accent" comment was had. I of course loved the acknowledgment and smiled, but as soon as I was conscious of my "pahked cahs in Hahvid Yahd" I noticed them becoming even more pronounced, almost uncontrolably...I was in a rut for a few. This smacks of language cognition, and is worth more study....I'll put it on the list of shit to do.

It got me thinking about the Boston accent. I believe there to be various "dialects" specific maybe to region. North of Boston, south of Boston, even the classic Ted Kennedy / Mayor Quimby Beacon Hill "Brahmin" accent. What are the key differences? What do you look out for? How do you gather information? Why is it interesting to me at all?

Where is everybody?

Have you ever noticed that when you're flying in a plane, no other planes are in sight, ever? I'm not talking about the air traffic you might see when coming in for a landing...I'm talking about up in the air, thousands of feet up. To and from this last trip I had a window (and because the plane was so small it was also an aisle) seat, and I swear I looked and looked and not one plane could be seen. Exactly how many planes are in the air at a time? Maybe it's part of an elaborate set of safety precautions in the name of national defense; lawd knows there's a bunch of new procedures in place already. This is the first time I've flown in a while, and getting through security included everyone removing their shoes, electronics, even the testing of my laptop to make sure it was a computer (I guess). These aren't really complaints...more like observations. I like the idea of going through those motions, especially if it means a safer plane trip.

They did let me go by without ever taking off my hat, though. Who knows what I could have had in there?

I blame the President. Time to remove him from office, as he is clearly not the man for the task at hand...letting people get on planes with hats and all. How irresponsible!

I Know I Have No Wings

There are lots of things in this world of which I can somewhat confidantly say I have no fear. Cruising at 33,000 feet above the ground strapped into the human equivalent of a sardine can is not one of them. Smaller planes only make matters worse, and as you realize there are only 20-some odd people on the plane, you realize that if you do crash on some remote island, the chances of having a doctor or a survivalist or even a former hobbit present aren't as good as those on a certain ABC sitcom. The older I get, the more I am aware of the fact that there is no ground underneath...or rather that the ground is a long way down. As the old man says: Gravity will always win.

Title Town is right...

Nothing like 3 Super Bowls in 4 years...

What I still find surreal is the fact that Boston teams have been so successful of late. We just sandwiched a World Series title between two Super Bowls, becoming the second city ever in history to do so (Pittsburgh,78/79 I think). Amazing. You gotta understand, most cities never come close to experiencing the kind of sports fan euphoria in Boston right now. We as a city came close in the mid-eighties (1986 Pats lost, Celitcs won, Red Sox...well), but it was over a year pretty much, not over a bunch of years. Besides, I was only 10, so I really had no idea. It's had to put into words how good it feels to be here now, particularly after so many years of (sometimes gut-wrenching) heartbreak.

This is Title Town.
Another parade tomorrow.

AL-9000 Super Bowl XXXIX post
Bill Simmons Super Bowl Blog

Sexist at Heart

Amidst all the junk and jokes one recieves in the mail, there are occasionally prizes. I found myself in a similar situation last week, which prompted this post:

 A sign in the Bank Lobby reads: "Please note that this bank is installing new "Drive-through" teller machines. Customers using this new facility are requested to use the below outlined procedures when accessing their accounts. MALE & FEMALE procedures have been developed after months of careful research.

MALE PROCEDURE
1. Drive up to the cash machine.
2. Insert card into machine and enter PIN.
3. Enter amount of cash required and withdraw.
4. Retrieve card, cash and receipt.
5. Drive off.

FEMALE PROCEDURE
1. Drive up to cash machine.
2. Reverse and back up the required amount to align car window with the machine.
3. Set parking brake, put the window down
4. Find handbag; remove all contents on to passenger seat to locate card.
5. Turn the radio down.
6. Attempt to insert card into machine.
7. Open the car door to allow easy access to machine due to its excessive distance from the vehicle.
8. Insert card.
9. Reinsert card the right way up.
10. Dig through handbag to find diary with your PIN written on the inside back page.
11. Enter PIN.
12. Press cancel and reenter correct PIN.
13. Enter amount of cash required.
14. Check make up in rear view mirror.
15. Retrieve cash and receipt.
16. Empty handbag again to locate wallet and place cash inside.
17. Place receipt in back of checkbook.
18. Recheck make-up again.
19. Drive forward 2 feet.
20. Reverse back to cash machine.
21. Retrieve card.
22. Re-empty hand bag, locate cardholder, and place card into the slot provided.
23. Give appropriate one-fingered hand signal to irate male driver lined up behind you.
24. Restart stalled engine and pull away.
25. Drive for 2 to 3 miles.
26. Release Parking Brake

Fantastic Four Movie

I came across this
...looks good. Will it take the title of "Best Comic Book Hero Movie"? Who has the title now? Spiderman?
Batman? Maybe you're more of a Captain America type?!?

Blizzahd of '05

Wow. I wasn't in the country for the blizzard of 78, but I've heard all the stories from family and neighbors. I'll tell you what though, there was a HELL of a lot of snow here a couple of days ago. I just saw a story on the local news about a guy who attacked somebody on Beacon Hill over a parking space. I can't imagine what kind of bloodshed there was in ol' East Boston because of "throwing snow on my property" or "messing up my pile" or the most traditional "I'm reserving these five spaces". See the "space wars" post for more...

There isn't a place to put it all. Out here there is a constant pile of snow 3 feet high along all the roads and sidewalks. Some of the drifts the morning of the blizzard were higher than I was (I speak of my height, of course). I must admit, though, it wasn't devastating around here, particularly since the snow was somewhat light and easy to move, at least that morning. It just kept snowing and snowing and snowing. Fluffy, but ample. It was the drifts that had the biggest effect. The Cape, on the other hand, got absolutely slammed.

Then there are those people who for one reason or another just don't know how to deal with snow. When I stepped out Sunday morning, there was this guy with his hazards on blocking the entrance to my complex. It was obvious he was very stuck. I recruited a neighbor and we went over to help. It turned out this guy was Brazilian, new to the country, and driving an extremely light car, complete with balded tires. Great. After an hour, we got him back out onto the road, and into one of the few plowed lots nearby. Since the blizzard was raging strong, I got a good amount of snow stuck to every hair on my face....and I had the great idea of trying to grow a full beard...

Looks like we'll have 7-10 more inches tonight, though it's negligible relative to Sunday. Eh, I have my space...

P2P Scapegoating

This is ridiculous. "A bill introduced in California's Legislature last week has raised the possibility of jail time for developers of file-swapping software who don't stop trades of copyrighted movies and songs online." Why not...we as Americans have already established a pattern of blaming and going after whoever we can when it comes to losing money. In regards to a manufacturer's culpability for illegal use of their product, however, another standard has already been established.

Do we go after the makers of VCRs because their technology can be used to duplicate protected television programming? How about computer companies who include CD and DVD burners that can be used to dub songs and movies? How long have we been taping things on the radio, making mix tapes, and passing these tapes out to our friends? It's one thing if somebody is, say, running a dub-house, trying to turn a profit on copyrighted material; it's another if we want a friend to listen to music with us.

So, sure, the bill doesn't try to hold the makers of file-swapping software responsible for illegal use of thier product. It rather tries to make them financially responsible for potential losses because they don't apparently prevent it from happenning. Hmmmm. Uh, yeah, there's a clear difference there....

They go so far as to claim that the only use for file-swapping software is to trade copyrighted files illegally, and that's what makes this case different than the others. The fact is, we need file sharing software. As our usage, even reliance, on communcating with each other through various technologies increases, so too should the efficiency with which to do so. This leads to the development of things like recieving email on a cellphone, text messaging, instant messaging, voice and video chat...the point is we pass information on to each other all the time, whether it's your voice, a paragraph, a picture, or a song, and we need to be able to do it efficiently. Swapping copyrighted material is NOT why this software was made.

If people choose to use something as a means to illegal ends, why should the inventor feel the repercussions?

The Day After Tomorrow

I finally got around to watching "The Day After Tomorrow", the newest member of one of my favorite genres of movie: The Disaster Movie. This one had it all, and though panned by many critics, I think it may be the best Disaster movie yet.

This flic comes from the makers of "Independance Day", which in my opinion indirectly helped start the Disaster movie renaissance almost 10 years ago, packed full of computer-aided graphics/destruction and a classic scene where we saw the White House obliterated by a massive alien death beam. Technically not a Disaster movie, the film did make one thing clear: people like to see things get blown up in a big way.

That year another movie came out that set the bar for modern natural disaster movies: "Twister". Yeah, this is a movie I'd watch more than a few times, but, like so many other Disaster movies, it focuses only on one type or another. By the end of "The Day After Tomorrow", I'd seen not only the best simulated tornado sequence ever but also a brief but potent lightning storm, a couple of deadly hailstorms with bowling ball size hailstones, rapture-worthy hurricanes and blizzards, a mammoth tidal wave of water that sweeps into and wipes out the entire East Coast, and an unprecedented movie natural disaster: the fast moving, invisible wall of "insta-freeze" conditions, where the temperature drops down to 150 below zero in an impossibly short amount of time, ultimately freezing just about everything north of the . We're talking about stepping outside and being frozen solid within seconds, mammoth stylee. I swear I even saw a quick earthquake in there at one point too.

The only glaring natural disaters missing in this one were death by lava and death by asteroid, but hey, we can't have everything we want all the time. Interestingly, these two types of earthly devastation were the themes of 1997 and 1998, respectively, and a part of a Hollywood trend to release multiple movies with the same theme in the same year. We'll get to that in another post.



1997 saw a couple of volcano movies, one the aptly-named "Volcano", and the other "Dante's Peak". Neither was much to write home about. The Tomy Lee Jones/Anne Heche team up was a match made anywhere but in heaven, and Pierce Brosnan would do better sticking to british spy movies. Both had plots that were less than engaging and effects that were less than memorable...go ahead, try to name a scene from either. "The Day After Tomorrow" blows them both out of the water, or out of the crater, whatever...

In 1998 we saw a great tandem of Disaster movies, the star-studded, extinction-level, asteroid-obliterating duo of "Armageddon" and "Deep Impact". The former gets lots of props from people, and I'm no exception. It definitely ranks highly on the list of Disaster movies and once you get past Ben Affleck, you get a good 2.5 hours of entertainment. One thing "Armageddon" has that most Disaster movies don't is a good dose of comedy, and that's a big part of its appeal. As far as actual disaster footage, however, this movie doesn't have a whole hell of a lot of it. That's good in that substance is what makes it likeable, but bad in that it loses Disaster movie ranking points. Above all, you gotta love the idea of a Texas-sized piece of rock slamming into the planet, and a wiseass cast of characters ultimately saving the day. (Let's hear it for Mr. Pink and the Davie guy!)

"Deep Impact", on the other hand, was a great movie (part of my collection), but its plot had too much buildup and too little payoff. WAY too much Tea Leoni. This movie does win the prize for best tsunami in a movie, as a 50-foot tower of oceanic death came crashing into the east coast travelling faster than the speed of sound....yowsa. Too bad it's over in less than 4 minutes. I guess the producers were counting on Frodo and Yar to get the butts into the seats! You do have to give it up to Morgan Freeman as a cool, calm, and collected US President, though, and Bobby Duvall leading the ultra-heroic team of astronauts who ultimately save the world was worth it too.



"The Day After Tomorrow", based on pure disasteredness, is clearly the best natural disaster movie of all time. I even think the ending is the best. Instead of narrowly avoiding disaster or rebuilding thw white house, etc, this movie ends with the better part of North America buried under ice...and it seems it will stay that way for a while. What better way to set up a sequal than to end a movie with the remaining population of the United States being forced to move to and live in South and Central America? Here's a title" "The Dia After Manana - Montezuma's Revenge Was Nothing...".