Posted on by mwhybark

… and some linkylove.

Eric Sooros at the Wired Fool points out some of the stuff that makes him (and me!) glad to have broadband to the home.

Deckchairs on the Titanic gets mad enough at Fast Food Nation author Eric Schlosser to state that “…he sucks.” This ire is prompted by Schlosser’s enthusiasm for In-n-Out Burger, as cited in an NYT story. I dropped a line a moment ago, enquiring why that makes Schlosser suck, haven’t heard back yet, but hope to! I enjoy Deckchairs, and this reaction was confusing to me, I must admit.

As I wrote, Andrew Boardman replied to my query: “The reason that I think that Mr. Schlosser sucks is that he has written a book essentially condemning the restaurants and the meat industry that they support — and the health problems that result.”

So there you have it.

Finally, I really enjoy Tod Dominey’s site, “What Do I Know”, as much for its’ understated elegance of design and presentation as fr Mr. Dominey’s thoughtful writing. Here’s a recent entry about why it’s fun to fix things in an old house, and why it’s good to live in an old house.

Posted on by mwhybark

the Hurlothrumbo

the Hurlothrumbo was Emperor Norton’s steamship. Who was Emperor Norton? Why, he was the Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico. What? You never heard tell of the fella?

This site will help, a bit.

A big TYVM to Richard Gillman’s Absolute Piffle.

(Updated with archive.org link February 2013, it seems the Clampers behind hurlothrumbo.org let the domain lapse.)

Posted on by mwhybark

blimp week followup part MCMLXXI

NYT: Big Blimp that apparently couldn’t is a story I noted in the Times just before we went to California in late May. I stubbed an entry on it here and forgot all about it.

The article details the mad vision, and apparent business failure, of Cargolifter AG and the company’s founder, Carl von Gablenz. Boeing’s investment of emergency funding into Cargolifter helped to inspire Blimp Week, in these pages beginning in spring 2002.

Attempts to visit the Cargolifter website via a Google search today failed. It would seem the endgame took place shortly after the NYT article was published.

Posted on by mwhybark

Well, that sucks.

Moments ago, I returned from running an errand in the neighborhood. I was musing to myself about the proliferating dog poop scene in my apartment building’s yard spaces, trying to not get all bent out of shape about it (one of our neighbors is temporarily fostering a pair of sweet little granny lap dogs; since they already have one dog, the three together are a challenge for them to manage when they head out to do some business).

As I was carrying a load of laundry downstairs, thinking of dog turds, I got a whiff of something really awful, much like raw sewage or a rotting carcass. I actually spoke aloud: “What is that smell?”

I got down to the entry to the laundry room, and heard a noise near to where I smelled the stench. I saw a person, standing near a starcase that leads to the upper deck on our building. At first, I shrugged and went to open the laundry room. Then I put two and two together. I looked a bit more closely, and had the traumatizing experience of seeing some homeless person wiping their ass after having just taking a huge, steaming dump in my yard, fifteen feet from my dining room window.

My inner Republican erupted: I immediately started yelling, “GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY YARD! GET THE FUCK OUT NOW! STAY OUT! DON’T COME BACK!” and walked right up to the wretched asshole, pointing, waving my arms, and shouting. The prick (no, make that the PRICK WHO SHIT IN MY FUCKING YARD) was so rattled by my angry rantings that he repeatedly failed to pull his pants up, while mumbling pathetically about “when he gets paid” and other sad things.

He finally made his shambling way down the street, a sad specimen indeed; meanwhile I had the exquisite pleasure of picking his smeary, steaming, still-warm dump up between sheets of newspaper and conveying it to the dumpster. Naturally, while engaged in this deeply fulfilling act of service to humanity, I noticed a secret dog-poop cache: at least one pooch has found the same spot as inviting a latrine as the-fuckwad-who-took-a-dump-in-my-yard, and yet, unaccountably, failed to inform their peeps of the event!

It should be noted that last summer I repeatedly chased junkies and teenagers looking for a spot to blow some spliff off the property as well.