Was it only six years ago that I had enough personal free time to play in a band and read a novel a week? Is it the terrorists, the capitalists, or the technologists that have stolen my time away? Who do I sue?
Islamic geometry
Here’s the Beeb on that story about the advanced geometry of Islamic art I was flappin’ my gums about at Greg and Stacey’s t’other day. The coverage doesn’t capture the “NO SHIT, SHERLOCK” sense I had as I listened to the coverage, but the last time I really had the same sense of the obvious was listening to Colin Powell lie his head off about WMD in Iraq to the UN. In each instance I was shouting at the radio.
Blow
The wind is growling around the house and through the trees. Our fire is keeping us warm and sleepy.
Attention Seafarers and Chanteyists
I regret to report that the New Yorker double-issue of this week, Feb. 19-26, 2007 contains a dynamite main course in Mark Singer’s long piece, The Castaways. Why the regret for a terrific piece? Well, it ain’t online, so I can’t extract or link. You, dear reader, will be forced to the extremis of commerce to chime with or reject my observations on the composition.
The issue is the annual Eustace Tilley cover number, for those taking note. Act now, supplies are limited.
In the article, Singer recounts the tale, verging on a year gone, of the Mexican Pacific Coast fishermen found over nine months adrift and five thousand miles west of their port, San Blas, Mexico. I recall reading the initial coverage of the rescued men and the nearly-immediate skepticism of the men’s tale in the press. Reading a long-form sympathetic retelling of the men’s months adrift is nothing sort of remarkable even if it does not provide a prescriptive verdict on the truth or fiction of aspects of the tale. The men appear to be the exception to those we build mariners’ memorials to, and the detailed recounting of their time adrift may serve as proxy for the countless others never found out upon the trackless main.
Warm and sweet
It was as warm and clear as promised, temperatures nearing seventy as the day wore on. Viv and I accomplished a great deal, with her attending a class on dogmanship in the morning while I did load after load after load of laundry. On her return, she straightened a couple rooms in the house and I tidied up the gardening area on the porch prior to departing for the long-delayed housewarming party of some friends.
While at the party we discovered not only that the dog trainer is someone we already have known peripherally for several years but that her husband is a project manager at the firm who did the house remodel. The remodel, by the way, was really stunning, easily one of the best domestic spaces I have ever seen and as spacious as one could possibly hope for.
Boolshite
Over the past few mumfs, I have been running experiments regarding media convergence in our home. I have a Mac Mini set up as a primary media server, connected to an eyeHome breakout box that runs media from the Mini over vanilla GB ethernet out to a variety of media, including a surround receiver via optical and to that projector I dumpstered a couple of years ago.
The Mini, a 1.42 mhz G4 with 1GB ram, is the second-most powerful computer in the house, after my main laptop, and has done a great job running the media streams. We’ve watched feature films and entire series, both legitimately converted from DVD formats and downloaded via miscellaneous services via the eyeHome.
However, after analyzing the amount of time needed to obtain and view film and television media online, offline on DVD and converted, and so forth, I had come to the conclusion that the quality degradation inherent in the uncertainty of the illegitemate downloads, in combination with the length of time required to download the assets, weighted the balance in favor of legitimate content downloads, but not in favor of legitimate content conversion Ripping a personal DVD up to the Mini for online playback and access, for example, can take four to eight hours of supervised computer activity. Downloading from filesharing networks may take days and days of calendar time but very little supervised time; I would guesstimate something on the order of 3 minutes per four hours of content downloaded.
The downside of the filesharing downloads is that the quality of the material may vary widely – I have seen what are called ‘cams,’ in which a videocamera was used to capture a public screening of a current film, DVD conversions of widely varying quality, from captures that preserve the full 5.1 surround to ones in which the mono audio capture is out of sync with the action on screen to ones in which the last few minutes of a television show simply is cut off.
Identifying and correcting these content-quality deficiencies is MUCH more time-consuming than the acts of capturing your own DVD content. Therefore, if one wishes to obtain quality assured content for computer-based playback, I reasoned, it would make sense to fork over the dough and save the time.
Guess what? The video content I purchased and downloaded from Apple a) is limited to the display resolution of the Video iPod, at 320×240 b) suffered a catastrophic download failure on my initial download attempt that resulted in the local copy of the file disappearing from the hard drive as iTunes attempted to finalize the transaction just as Qwest’s DSL service failed c) including the initial attempt, took nearly eight days to download and, as I learned tonight, d) WILL NOT PLAY BACK ON THE MINI.
Instead, I’m treated to a delightful slideshow of approximately one frame for each FIVE MINUTES OF SCREEN TIME. The assets being under the vigilant protection of FairPlay is also limited by design to play back only within the loving, and in my experience otherwise quite snappy, confines of QuickTime Player and iTunes, meaning it’s impossible to troubleshoot the slow-play source by examining the asset under to hood, as it were.
Naturally, such securely swaddled content is not legitimately enabled for playback via eyeHome, either.
In light of this, it’s clear to me that DRM represents as huge a marketing misstep as anything ever slapped ass-wise on the face of this good Earth. The sales and pricing logic are clearly in place to drive busy consumers toward legitimately-provided content; but when the acknowledged wizard of the burgeoning direct-media market cannot successfully deliver useful content to an informed and technically-ept consumer, piracy can only be regarded as a public duty in defense of family values, democracy, and the marketplace. Of course, saying so in a public forum is a statutory violation of acts lately passed with the intent of making it illegal to provide support for terrorists, so make of my speech what you will.
Thank you, and good night.
The Admiral's Panties
League of Intoxicated Gentlemen January 2007 Ballard Meeting, courtesy Manuel.
I was EXTREMELY locquacious Friday night. As Manuel took this pic, I was channelling the Deadwood character E. B. Farnham for reasons absolutely unknown to myself even at he time. By the end of my disquisition, I even had William Henderson’s unmistakable speech pattern and accent down.
Also, for whatever reason, the fezzes were incredible chick magnets, as attested to by the magic of photography. As all Brethren in attendance that night are spoken for with the exception of our youngest member, we spent a great deal of the evening genteelly directing the attention of the ladies toward him.
Additional fantastickall events unveiled themselves in the course of the evening. I enthusiastically narrated of a series of absurdly improbable events, including but not limited to the tale of the Hurlothrumbo, how a celebrated Capitol Hill mansion was built on a turn of the century pyramid scheme before playing host to some sort of pre-new-age White Russian crackpottery, and , I think, something else (oh yes, it was the tale of the Oddfellows bustout a decade ago in my beloved Capitol Hill). The spontaneous invention of a fezzification ritual which explains why our fezzes are betassled also occurred. We were witness to the narration of a member’s single-handed campaign to combat the scourge of pr0nography, a campaign that engendered no mean quantity of incredulity. Most importantly, we obtained valuable fez wisdom in the form of the crucial information shared with us by a fellow-denizen of The Smoke Shop that our fezzes were, that night, “just like the Admiral’s panties.” Said ethanol philosopher then quite refused to elaborate the source and meaning of the remark, but as the Smoke Shop is the final remaining fisherman’s bar in Oulde Ballard, there’s a real probability that the remark encapsulates some hidden or forbidden seaman’s lore.
Additionally, we resolved to investigate the doins of E Clampus Vitus at first hand.
Dawg and Pengie
This blog has now officially entered post-apartment-dwelling life. Viv and I are welcoming Rocky, a 10-month old border-collie mix, into his new home with us tonight. Poupou offers some helpful links.
Rocky was the very spirit of good behavior last night as we hosted Chris, Sabrina, and Cooper as the boys narrated their Antarctic adventure over the Christmas holidays. A 10-month old dog that barely makes a sound! What a wonder.
Learning about the trip was wonderful as well, as both gents produced compelling imagery. A bonus thrill was the ease with which we were able to route their computers into our household LAN and thence upstream to the projector and A/V amplification center. Given Chris, Coops, and my own interest in technology I was reasonably concerned that the attempt to present pictures and movies digitally via the LCD projector would degenerate into hours of attempting to route around ill-documented and competing media asset standards. But NO! It was really quite smooth and effortless, all things considered.
We were so enjoying our direct conversation with our guests that we failed to rise from table until nearly 11:00pm, and the slide show ran far into the wee hours of the night as a consequence.
Said guests were slated to spend the day pursuing the fabled snow goose in the environs of the lovely Skagit river valley. As today was a stunningly clear day with temperatures in the low fifties, I am sorry that it was the better part of prudence and canine management responsibilities to decline their kind offer to participate in the birding.
Dubya Tee Eff
Driving up Aurora at 6:00 tonight we pulled off just before crossing the high bridge to gape at the massive and mysterious firework show flaring over Lake Union and cracking booms into the night sky. It was quite a show; wonder what the heck it was for?
Deenis
Grrrr. My DNS provider was under a DDoS attack for most of the preceding 48 hours. As of today, I have backups in place. Argh.