Gism Butter

Tue, 29 Jun 2004

They're already here, people!

When you get right down to it, micropayments have actually been around for quite a while. We just have to look hard to see them. I'm looking out my window right now, and I see one person who is payed by micropayments: my mail carrier. While she yaks on the phone, (non stop... seriously, how much does she have to say?!) she's also using micropayments: her phone company charges per minute, or at least they do when she's gone over her allotted time. Even gumball machines could be seen as micropayments.

Really, what is new here on the Internet is the idea of micropaymenting a piece of media. Comics, magazines, movies, and books just cost too much when compared to the amount of competition out there. When I buy bananas, there's a rediculously low price for them, because each banana cost some miniscule fraction of a penny to create en mass. well, DVD's aren't exactly expensive to produce either. Materials per disc and case can't amount to even a penny. The actual creeation of the movie behind the DVD is what we're paying for there, not the physical product. But it is often teh physical product which drives the purchase, despite the inadequecies of the product inside.

I can tell if I am buying a bad banana. I can squeeze it and feel if it's got any squishy areas inside. But you can't thump a video. You can't tell if you're going to like what's inside, just as you can't tell if you'll like the taste of the banana. When the bananas gone, I'm full. When the movies gone, it's 2 hours later. So if I didn't like the banana, I can buy another fruit, or try another brand of banana. generally there won't be much variance from banana to banana. Movies are unquantifiable. Reviews are subjective", and taste is relative.

Anyway, micropayments aren't new. We micropay for stamps. We micropay for long distance minutes. The only thing new here is that the leeches at the top are going to be flushed out when there's not enough money coming in to pay ther multi-million dollar sallaries. Maybe the rest of that money can be spent on healthcare for employees.

Sun, 27 Jun 2004

A long drive

I've said it a million times. Oil use in combustion engines is assanine. It's a great resource, with many uses, but just blowing it up in small quantities is retarded.

And so, in an effort to reduce the usable portions of gas remaining in the marketplace, Myself, V, and Chris piled into the car and drove about 300 miles. Well, only I drove. None of my friends EVER have drivers liesences.

We arrivd at Goat Head Rock Beach with a bag full of wobbly cheese, cucmbers, mustard, bread, and my camrea. V left her TV dinners in the car, where they cooked in the sun. She ate them on the way home, pausing only once to carry out an impromptu hit when we passed through the city of Tomales. The Hell's Angels were taking over the city. This was fortuitous, as V had been hunting the president of the Bodega Bay chapter for three weeks.

Chris spent the day poking dead things with sticks, except when he took the time and care to poke a live thing. From headless dead goats to dead miniature Portugese Man-O-War.

Fri, 25 Jun 2004

Back From The Vet

I just returned from the veteranarian office. They told me, in no uncertain terms, to go home and pop my cat's zits. Not lying.

Ok, hold still Ali....

Apple: Listen up:

Make the USB cables on your keyboards 3 times longer. No wait. Four times. This is a rediculous way to make extra money.

Thu, 24 Jun 2004

Short Rant on Piracy

Companies are very concerned about people stealing their things. They pay short, dumpy white ladies to wander around the toy aisles in Wal-Mart busting skinny blond chicks for stuffing $300.00 worth of makeup into their overstuffed slinky purses. Hollywood hires Macrovision to put 6 red dots in the middle of the movie. The United States sends thousands of troops to the middle east in order to depleat their oil reserves first, leaving them a happy dancing gas guzzling economy when the rest of the world has to come to them in 100 years.

But I digress...

Piracy will always hit a happy medium. No matter how hard it is to break that copyprotection, it will be broken. No matter how often those dots come up on the screen, the movie will still be on the Internet. No matter how often the dumpy theft-clerk confronts the skinny blond chick outside the store, the makeup will always be taken.

Does it look like Wal-Mart is starving? Doubtful. Is that skinny white blond chick starving? Of her own accord. But she's gonna go to Hollywood and become a super model without that expensive makeup? Probably not. With the help of her five fingered discount, and her utter lack of morals (brought on by years of suckling the nipple of television), she will get to that reality TV show. She will get her big chance. She will have an opportunity to become all that she's ever wanted to be.

Wal-Mart can only make her feel ultra guilty. The cyclical nature of reality can make her eat her own shit on live television when the entire country sees her vomit on Leona Helmsley while reaching for the next rotten crab in the long row towards the year-old cottage cheese with a key buried in it.

So, we've all been looking up into space. Cause that's where "they" are, right? What if "they" are somewhere below? If you look at the atomic structure, the distances between individual physical masses is incredibly vast. The force that holds an atom together is weaker than the force that keeps it from collapsing in on itself. If you push on the universe, it pushes back very hard. There's obviously something very complex going on down there, and the size-to-distance ratio offers much more room for exploration in our life-times.

Look, we pretty much know that going really far away in space is a time consuming task. So what if going smaller is the answer. If there are dimensions tucked around these little fellows, then they've got to have some manner of effect on us. 5th dimension, man! SHOUTS THE HIPPIE! as he melts into his couch.

It's gotta be quicker to go down than it is to go up. Someone needs to write a screenplay where a guy's dad goes to the basement and comes back 90 years old an instant later. There's something to it, I say. By gum.

And in conclusion, piracy will level itself off. Enough people will ALWAYS pay to support the stuff that's good. But there will always be enough theives out there to keep the executives honest. So, I say, STEAL FROM WAL-MART! Take them for all they're worth. Go down to your local branch of MCI and take an office chair. Dump your garbage in Waste Management's yard. The more loss you hand them, the more salary cuts the executives will need to take. If they fire the lower guys, rise up and stomp their heads in. You're unionized. Get it done!

And in closing, I need really cool cars. Someone in Oakland contact me about your bad ass car.

Accountants

As I walked into the basement meeting facilities of the Palo Alto Sheraton hotel, I was immediately accosted by a brightly colored blond woman that screamed "PR for Life." She asked me if I was press. I nodded.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked?

She nodded back and handed me a packet of releases and papers. I thumbed through them eading over the propoganda she'd put together to support her side of the expensing issue. Frankly, I could have cared less, since I do not own, nor will I ever be offer any stock options.

I read an extremely slanted op-ed piece from the Wall Street Journal that this woman had printed up on her computer, carefully removing all evidence of the piece being an opinion piece. I smiled, poured myself a cup of coffee and jangled it in the saucer as I walked into the roundtable room.

Inside, I was the least well dressed there, but no one seemed to care or mind. Technically, I was in Haycock, as per St. Andrews rule: colared shirt, courduroys, only one hole in either. As I sat on a media reserved chair near a power outlet, it suddenly dawned on me: I was the poorest person in this room. And not just the poorest in terms of current assets. I mean for ever and all time. These various CEOs, CFOs, SEC, and FASB people have now, in their posession, more money than I will ever have, for the rest of my life. Added all up together.

And yet, I was not intimidated. I sat and typed furiously capturing as many juicy quotes as I could.

Eventually, the proceedings halted and the dancing girls were sent in. They were helped up onto the square roundtable by smiling accountants with pocket protectors. The older of the two held onto his final girl's hand just a little too long there, letting a small pudle of drool drip from his lips.

Once they were in full kick lines, the banners and baloons dropped. It was a going away party for Michael Crooch, whos tenure on the Financial Accounting Standards Board is finished at the end of this year. He stood and humbly bowed as the numerous scantily clad ladies sat both on and around him.

Accountants are so silly, sometimes.

Tue, 22 Jun 2004

Slanting

The house has begun to lean a bit to the left. I tried to fix this by folding up a paper napkin and placing it under the rear corner of the building, but it seems to have made no difference whatsoever.

As I write this, the room is fully 20 degrees off kilter, and I have been forced to duct tape my monitors to the table. It is all I can do to keep myself afixed in front of the terminal to write this to you. I wonder how long I can keep this up.

Roses and Guns

Everyone in Oakland is packing heat. This can sometimes be slightly disturbing, as I have never even so much as fired a gun. I fingered James' glock once, fondled Chris' shotgun, and his other various arms of questionable legality (read: Howitzer). But when I'm walking down the street and I happen upon the various citizens of this fair burg loading and unloading their various firearms with the various hollow-point bullets they so often favor, I usually become unglued.

Normally, I find the nice folks that run the laundrymat across the street to be charming, cute, and generally harmless. The old man in charge can fall asleep standing up, the lady is always smuling, and the other fellow who works there during the mornings has only one functional eye and seems frightened at all times. He even keeps the door locked and checks whoever comes in with that remaining shifty glazy. But when I entered yesterday, the first gentleman was inside busilly aranging the .38 and bullets he obviously kept in his pocket at all times. He seemed worried about my noticing this, and he shifted the contents of his hand back into his pocket quickly.

Nevermind the open-carrying fellow who was at the house the other night.

But I have no fear, for my trained attack rats, Hanpan and Langston are always by my side, ready to protect me. They're faithful little fellows who generally wouldn't hurt a fly, but I've trained them to violently accost anyone I cast my special attack phrase upon. All I need to say is "G. W." and they set upon whoever is unfortunate enough to be in front of us at the time. Last month i accidentally set them upon the mailman, and the little gys eviscerated him rather thoroughly.

But that's why the Basil is growing so well now. Humans make good fertalizer, in case you were wondering.

A few weeks back, V picked up Use Your Illusion X, where x = either 1 or 2. I'm not entirely sure which one she got, but she's been playing Civil War non-stop for the entire afternoon. I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps she's got a bit of a thing for Slash. Having Guns and Roses in the house serves but to remind me of two things: the first is how much I hate Guns and Roses, and the second is how long I have until V buys Use Your Illusion Y, where y /= x.

Mon, 21 Jun 2004

For my folks

In the interests of keeping my best audience informed, here is what I'm up to this week. It's a doozy, and it's only gonna get worse over the next few weeks.

Tomorrow, I have a revision due on the UnityOne, which is kicking my ass. I knew it wouldn't get back to me till now, despite Suzanne's assurances that it would be here last Wednesday.

This morning, a bunch of email from Art clued me into the Federal Acounting Standards Board's round-table discussion this coming Thursday in Palo Alto. I am off to that on Thursday, and I will be covering the protests that take place during the lunch break. This will be interesting: the story is due at 6 PM EST that night, and I am desperately trying to get up to speed on what the fuck these people are talking about. I might get a chance to interview Cisco's CFO. I'd also like to talk to Joe Lieberman, who wrote some law in the 90's that effected this.

On July 2, Travis arrives. He's first off to Philly to see his brother, and Kim (Who's bringing a friend. Let's all home she takes one for the team!). Then he'll be here for probably 10 days to 2 weeks.

July 1 I have a story due to MacAddict, and July 15, I have a story on Rice Rockets due to Oakland magazine, my first glossy cover story.

Love you dad! I got yer letter and almost cried. You are so caring and wonderful. Thank you.

Xbox2 Dev Kit on G5?

Well, I just saw This story and was wondering if anyone can substantiate the claims made by it. If it's true, I'm boggled. Confused. Befuddled.

In other news, Cisco announced today that their next generation of routers will use chips manufactured by a joint research project from Motorla and Intel. Also, the San Francisco 49ers will be moving their team to northern Saskatchewan. Once there, they will be hiring a new head coach: Tyrel Owens.

President Bush also announced today that his chief of staff will be changing. After he wins reelection, he will be hiring James Carvell as his new chief of staff, and he will also be dumping Dick Cheney for Linda Rondstat. The Republican party was unavailable for comment, though unofficially, the verdict on these decisions is that "you can dance to them."

Michale Eisner, today, announced that Disney would be selling off much of its property to Ted Turner. The move would make Cartoon Network the single source for all animated entertainment, and allow the Georgia billionaire to file his tax returns in crayon.

Finally, in astonishing news, Osama Bin Laden has come out of hiding, and John Kerry announced that they are currently in negotiations to offer the Saudi terrorist leader the number 2 spot on the democratic ticket. Osama is evidently open to this offer, but has issues with the democrat's health care policies.

Thu, 17 Jun 2004

Kung Space Fu

Some time after the operation, V awoke with the passion and fury of an angry baboon. The animal heart beating within her caused her to grow stronger and more dangerous with the passing days. By thursday, we were forced to enroll her in training classes to hone her now deadly powers down to a sharpened point.

Tonight, she practiced her straight sword. Kick Boxing is on Monday. Shaolin Kung Fu is on T days. Ninja wall scaling and assasination classes are scheduled for this fall, but we're not sure whether we should choose them over the simultaneously scheduled scuba demolitions and underwater wrestling classes.

To V, however, I don't think it matters which she takes, as long as in enhances her ability to kill for international drug cartels. It's not a pretty business, but it certainly pays the bills. And every once in a while there are perks. The guy V offed in Panama last week had an iPod! 10 GB's! The three nuns she took out in Equador were carrying some very silky under garments, all with the tags still on them, and the visitng diplomat she offed in Singapore had tickets to The Lion King. Man, that was a good show.

The only real problem with having a deadly assasin in training living in your house is that you never know when the windows will burst violently open as ninjas invade our abode. This has become an almost nightly problem. Whch is why we use Ninja-Be-Gone. It's the only way to ensure the saftey of your family when the silent killers of the east are skulking about your doorstep.

But V protects me from them, usually. A few weeks back, one of my computers was hit with a throwing star, but I got a replacement drive cover, and V pulled the head off the guy who threw it. Unless she's tired, I can usually just go about my shiftless-lay-about-ery at all times. But that monitor mirror I installed has really made me feel less secure. I can now see behind me, and sometimes the violence comes a lot closer than it feels like when you're not watching.

Wed, 16 Jun 2004

Balancing Yes

It sometimes seems to me that life is but an act of balancing "Yeses." each "Yes" builds on top of it a tree of possibilities vearing off in any which diretion the laws of reality allow.

But "Noes" close. They cut off a limb, and deaden the many viens/vines of the tree.

Life is always simple on Wednesdays. Everyone sits in their office and works diligently after they realize how far behind they are since they slacked off on Tuesday. Either that, or they don't come in at all. Many, many people just ignore their jobs on Wednesday as well. Of course, this bodes poorly for the wayward freelancer, who likes to have his emails immediately responded to by the various editors that he bothers from day to day.

So, not a whole lot happened today. Got some new stories for some new outlets, one Monday. Turned in a whole slew of stuff on Friday. Yesterday I picked up a new Mac support gig. Janice needs me to come by again and fix her G3 or some such thing. I suppose i shouldn't complain, because I didn't reply to her yet either. Probably won't until Friday.

Nevermind. I just replied.

Tomorrow, I have to go fix a Mac up in the ritzy hills.

Tue, 15 Jun 2004

Pit Bulls

So, the guys behind us had two pit bulls. V's been watching the things since they were puppies, and the owners were complete scum. They never played with the dogs, just kept them in a tiny backyard. They threw food and water out to them, but never walked them, took them out, let them in the house.

For the first year, the constant barking was heart breaking. It was all loving and hopeful. They wanted inside, they wanted to play and cuddle with their masters.

By the second year, they were angry and usually very quiet. This was the third year. And the pit bulls had simply become mean and vengeful. They wanted to take out their anger and loneliness on anything they could. When V and I worked in our garden, the dogs yammered and clawed at the flimsy wooden fencing that blocked off their yard from ours. At one point, I had to bang on the house and get someone to come out and put more bricks in the divider, after the dogs pushed through the fence and were able to get their heads into our yard.

Today, I came home from the ACCRC at around 2:00 PM. When I arrived at 29th and Telegraph, I noticed that the entire block was covered in cops. 10 cars, three motorcycles, an ambulance, and an animal control car.

The officer on the scene was forced to shoot one of the pit bulls. The other was caught in the neck choker and taken away. There was blood all over the parking lot.

JavaOne Part 1

This year's JavaOne conference will be interesting in the same way dancing a jig upon the deck of the Titanic would be intriguing. Sun is definitely a sinking ship, and Java is a burbling, roiling, miasma of old standards and slow compile times.

But, oh, in years past, the conference was so much fun! free videogames everywhere, bean bag chairs and movies to watch with free lunch, free pigs, a nifty bag with your name embossed in gold lettering upon the butt of it. For an extra $20, you could get the name embossed on the butt of the pig too.

I often forget that developers are expected to pay thousands of dollars for the privlidge of sending their coders off to learn about this stuff. So the after parties and freebies are expected!

This weekend, we went to the Haight Street fair, a rather crowded afair. There were all manner of people selling things in the street, such as water, candy bars, cookies. Fun cookies. Wink wink, nudge nudge, is your wife a cookie, eh? know what i mean know what i mean?

Sun, 13 Jun 2004

Off to Hippy Land

We're out the door and on the road to Haight street for the Haight St. festival. No time for a link now. Find it yourself. Be resourceful for a change. I can't be expected to send you willy nilly whenever I see fit. It's too much effort. Clamboring to the top of the Internet coolness ladder is a full-time job.

I'd rather just play Idle RPG Anyway, the Del.icio.us links are back, and there are lots of new ones over there for you to play with.

Maybe I can be relied upon. But don't tell anyone. The last thing I need is everyone bringing their bologna over to my house to hide it when the Oscar Meyer Nazi's show up and demand to see proof of ownership.

Thu, 10 Jun 2004

Shwag

I went to the BIO conference this past Wednesday, and it's the reason I haven't updated the Blog. Instead of blogging, I made this page chronicalling the shwag available at this international bio technology conference. Now, this shwag page have been BoingBoing'd, so things may get a hair slow today.

It was really an interesting show. Bayer was handing out nifty little vials filled with ebola virus, Xenogen had free biohazard bags filled with unidentified body fluids, and Recombinant Captial offered pens that had been extraccted from the anuses of local hospital goers.

I have to write up 500 words on the conference for Cox News by tomorrow, 6 PM EST. Not so bad, except that the people I need to quote will probably not go to their offices tomorrow, since they're all on planes today. No problem. I'll get it done on time.

In other news, Travis is still coming, and I've got a runny nose thanks to the extrememly furry and always talkative, Ali cat.

Sat, 05 Jun 2004

Wandering Around San Francisco in steel toed boots.

I didn't take advantage of it enough while I was there, but I did walk everywhere once V found me. She dragged me out onto the town and took me to nooks and crannies of the city that I had never been to.

Tonight, Chris arrived at the 2600 meeting so late that he didn't arrive a the 2600 meeting at all. He arrived at Powell street station, and the two of us walked to Tommy's Joint where Dan jumped down upon us from a great hight. His agile, but small, form sprang from the impact crater and fired immediately skyward once more. Chris left a message. Two, actually.

Chris bought me dinner, a good thing since I had been wandering through the bowels of the Hyatt at embarcadero searching for table leavings. I got a glass of water while lawyers in the next room watched a man on a television set and took notes. I sipped my water, then poured the rest back into the pitcher. I then went to poop just before the lawyers had a bathroom break. I sat and shat whilst all around me not a single person knew who I was. But for that moment, I was one of them. I was drinking their water, and pooping in their bathroom.

Only one of them saw me, and we intersected at the sinks. My sink had no soap. I was forced to move closer to him, breaking the Men's room code of ethics. I rinsed the soap off my hands for a good long time, giving himj plenty of space to use the only towel dispenser. My hands still feel clean as I write this.

I've written something very naughty, but I shant link to it. Those who know can look at my Slashdot Journal. It is, indeed, rather naugfhty.

Anyway, back at Tommy's Joint, I inhaled corned beef, but they had no cabbage. I was insensed. Aside from that, it was wodnerful. Barrel of free pickles, horseradish and hot mustard on the table. Giants beating the piss out of the Rockies on the TV.

I miss my Orioles. Even when they're down, I love them dearly, but that fucker John Miller is out broadcasting the games here now. It's nice to hear that firmiliar voice. If you squint real hard at the Giants, their stadium looks like Camden Yards. And the Giants wear that orange and black. Good old orange and black.

Chris ate an entire turkey leg -- though haunch was more acurate -- a french dip steak sandwich, and a bowl of tomato salad. And then we went to the Mission.

I made a point of walking Chris past the Power Exchange to prove to him that he really had no clue where it was. We then walked past the condemned armory building in which the 6 foot rats and homeless people live. Those that are not six feet are required to live on the streets near 15th and Mission. There is even a little sign that says "you must be this tall to enter this crackhouse."

Leif and Jesse were off at Planet Work setting up the wireless network for them. They came and got us. It's ncie to have young friends who are willing to drive for you. When we arrived back at the Presidio and swapped cars (After curry), two racoons accosted Chris and Leif. Chris' reared up and snapped at him like a thing posessed. Leif's rolled over and asked for a belly rub, which Leif gave it happily. Then Chris' attacked a wooden beaver that was protruding from the lawn in front of the conference, and across the street from Internet Archive. After a few moments, the biting began to turn into what looked much more like a leasurable experience for both the beaver and the racoon.

Finally, it dropped to the ground, chittered and gave Chris the finger. Then it ran into the bushes. Chris looked after it, raising, his own hand and flipping the thing off into the dark Presidio sky. "Keep Voting!" He shouted at it.

Indeed, Chris, indeed. Keep Voting. Keep on Voting.

Hububullubulbulblubulbulb

Thu, 03 Jun 2004

Thursdays

When I was a kid, I hated Thursdays. They were the worst, and I always seemed to take th most abuse from my classmates on these days. It was just so close to the weekend, and to Friday, the half day. And yet, it was also so far away: a full day of classes and a 2.5 hour gym class rife with ridicule and angst.

But today, I finally realized that, in the life of a freelancer, Thursday is the best possible weekday. Today, I picked up three new stories. Two are basically the same thing stretched out across two mags, but of these three outlets, two are new. New magazines, too. I added another new mag last week, so I am really rolling right now.

I don't know exactly how she managed to do it, but V crammed 2 cubic yards of vanilla pudding into an unlubricated Trojan. She then hung this slimy thing from the lamp post on the corner and proceeded to shoot holes in it with her high-powered BB gun.

This sent a rain of yellow, viscous liquid down onto those that happened to be ambling down Telegraph Ave. I swear, that lovely lady is completely crazy. I caught her buying chocolate pudding this morning, and I think I saw a fresh box of Trojans in her purse. I sincerely hope she's out of BB's, because the neighbors and shop keepers in this neighborhood are all sticky with anger.

They did enjoy the pudding, however.

Wed, 02 Jun 2004

Threw out my Back

I think I threw out my back. It's not in any of the places I normally put it. I tried under the bed, below my shoulders, next to the cat box, in the mail slot, under the table, inside the blender, over the doorway, and behind the drapes.

It's really unfair that I would lose it right now. Were it not for this persnickety back, I could be playing soccer right now. Instead, I am forced to sit here at the apartment and clean up the red trails of blood and organs I've been dripping down the hallways and through the various rooms.

As much as I hate to admit it, it looks like I might have to go rooting through the garbage to see if I can find some trace of it.

If anyone happens to come across a badly sunburnt white back with damaged lateral muscles, please mail it to me, or contact me via this website. Comments may be posted below under "Writeback."

Tue, 01 Jun 2004

Sun Burnt

So we are both still brunt to an absolute crisp, but the redness is finally peeling back and giving way to a golden brown tan. I should expect that we spend a good deal of time this summer increasing this golden hue. It's really the first time I've gotten so much sun in many years.

Time was, back at the ACCRC that I could go for days without even going outside, let alone seeing the sun. Ah, the good old day.s

Today, I went over and helped install some new iMacs at the Ruckus Society. Nice kids, but they don't really know where their towels are, if you know what I mean.

V found her towel about 75 feet from the impact crater. It had taken the poor, dirty thing six years to orbit the moon and return to us. I don't rightly know what posessed her to launch it into space, but when that beautiful girl gets an idea in her head, she tends to follow it through to its conclusion.

Now, should we wash the towel, or fire it back into space for a loop around Mars?