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
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.
 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
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.
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...
 | Ah, Liam. Old Man. Oldie. Happy 30th to ya pal.
Whaddaya know, you're old... |
 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.
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.
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.
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.
 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....
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.
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 sweets...I hope you like your gifts.
Nice hoodie!
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