Some Girls

nuvo.net / Some Girls rock harder than others, headlines Dale Lawrence at great length in a recent ish of the Indy alternative rag Nuvo.

Some Girls is a one-off project that brings Blake Babies Juliana Hatfield and Freda Love together with Indy bassist Heidi Gluck; Freda is also an old high-school chum of mine.

Although they only offer one tune on their website, i have heard a great deal of the album by listening to Bloomington alt-public station WFHB in iTunes recently, and boy, I really like it.

I’m excited to see the band on Thursday at the Crocodile (despite the Croc’s inability to provide an October gig calendar, prompting eye-rolls from your humble correspondent).

Got that? Thursday night. The Crocodile. Some Girls. Don’t make me repeat myself.

No Safari timeout

No Safari timeout (posted in April) points to a widget to slap Safari around and cure the stringent 60-second timeout that is inbuilt in the thing.

This comes up because, as increasing numbers of folks are realizing, the default architecture of MT is begining to display an inherent performance limitation as blogs age and the program has to cope with numbers of entries and files in the thousands.

No extra credit will be given for guessing the priority solving this will be assigned chez SixApart.

UPDATE: Okay, so maybe it’ll get discussed. But don’t tell the money boys, kids! It’ll give an existing consumer base one less reason to climb aboard the upgrade if you fix the bug!

This is the end

Right on schedule, our winter rain arrived.

It’s chilly and damp and dark and the clouds and fog are like a blanket that inverts the usual function – pull it up around your shoulders as your body heat is sucked away from you.

But by god it beats the snows of my childhood.

For a couple days before the wet arrived, Seattle had a fall that smelled like California and looked like Indiana, though. It was damn pretty.

Continuing my execrable habit of multi-subject posts, I should note that I’m nearly done with Mark Twain’s first book (I think – gonna have to dig up a comprehensive biblio and annotations one of these maundering days), Roughing It, which covers his early years in the rough-and-tumble world of Virginia City, Nevada during the Civil War.

There was a war on, but for “Virginia”, it was the height of boom times, and Twain recounts stories – such as freely-given stock in token of oh, simple affection or as a marker of regard and social utility – that echo loudly in the dot-com vet’s ears. The whole sequence of chapters reflecting on his experience of a boom town whose inflationary economics far outstripped that seen here a few years ago is recommended reading, and having come across it just as the wave of release-based local adulation crests about the shoulders of Jonathan Raban for Waxwings was something I chucklingly savored.

Another local author, David Guterson, who wrote Snow Falling on Cedars back in the day and then later East of the Mountains (which I prefer – it casts the Dry Side as the Peloponnese in a sort of pocket Odyssey that captures something of the beauty and solitude of my father’s birthgrounds) also has a new book out. It’s called Our Lady of the Mountains and concerns, if I have it right, a miraculous apparition of the Virgin, again on the Wet Side but this time Out There.

Sounds like a fine topic: what on Earth did you think Bigfoot was, anyway? Chopped liver?

It is dinnertime. Exeunt.

If in doubt, give a shout

buffoonery endorses this lovely little bit o’ flash, a prime slice of Czech surrealism, and I’ll second that.

Mr. Elope may amused to hear that I am experiencing the creeping feelings of entertainment paranoia that accompanied my first season of watching the X-Files as a result of paintover.net and attendant commentary.

AAAnd in other other other news, we’re maybe going to ship on time. I think. Which will be nice, ‘cuz my forearms hurt. It’s times like these when I realize a) working really cuts into my blogging time and b) working at home is so much better than working in-house and c) yet, stable revenue is certainly convenient.

time itself

So, this morning, a recap of the John Titor hoo-hah over at Idle Words amused me. In Titor’s case, the idea of using usenet to create participatory fiction online – uh, not the Kaycee Nicole variety – intrigues me, and I think it reflects my lately ranted-on interest in Star Trek bands and the like, and even maybe ties into Sherman Alexie’s bit at the Hugo House this weekend, “D&D Saved My Life.”

So when I stumbled across an interesting Metafilter link that pointed to a corporate info site called Metacortex and pointed out some interesting related sites such as the nearly-complete underwater Greek resort of Aquapolis and so forth, I was amused enough to chuckle and click into some of the sites.

Metacortex, you see, is the company that one Thomas Anderson was working for, several years ago, when all sorts of unexpected things began to happen, involving a movie, then another movie, and soon, yet another movie.

I noticed with interest that the MeFites fingered the project as being in some way related to an online mystery-slash-role playing immersive headbender they referred to as an “A.I.” game. I did not make the connection to the Spielberg/Kubrick film, I just assumed they meant something kind of complex that involved pretending that computers were intelligent.

So I slapped the link in an email to my favorite Matrix fan and went about my bidniss. Hours later, what do I find but a plaintive lament. Said Matrix fan once participated obsessively in the online game that was entitled the Beast and developed at Microsoft by Sean Stewart and Elan Lee, as a marketing tool for the film, one that seems to have somehow escaped the farm, and while seated at a downtown Boston bustop, was finally tranquilized by marketing-campaign control officers.

Fortunately, a helpful link to the Cloudmakers, the ad-hocracy of participants that organized to solve the game illuminates what all the fuss is about, and possibly what the woe will be about.

An apparently Germany-based site has sprung up to begin the coordination process. I think it’s very interesting that the prior game was developed in Redmond, and that the new game’s geographic referral points are to Redland, apparently the home of Metacortex. The telephone numbers, word is, are operable. Call now! Operators are standing by.

ARG forum Unfiction has a slew of boards set up. And here’s a guide, in progress.

Can anyone tell me if Neo appears in the movies at any time wearing a black turtleneck or carrying a certain variety of fruit? One or two of my readers were conclusively identified as working over very near Redland when my site’s referrer logs were subpoenaed under the Patriot Act last Wednesday recently by means too top-secret to be disclosed – what’s the good word?

(Although, despite the 206 numbers, I’m thinking this is NOT running out of MS; the servers are all Apache/Linux, they’re using MT – if this was an inside job that stuff’d be IIS/ASP all the way.)

And in conclusion, I had no idea about Mr. Elope’s past brushes with ARG abuse, or I surely would have held my peace.

An unexpected passing.

I just got a high-school friend’s obit via email from another old pal; it’s put me in a musing state.

The decedent was someone who utterly transformed after high-school, from a prototypical stoner kid into an academic superstar whose career trajectory, according to the obit, had most recently involved work in the DC area, bridging government and academe. The obit specified no cause of death, and email correspondence with others revealed that it was uncertain.

He was in his early thirties and although I can’t swear to it, I believe I understood that his early college career was founded on a track scholarship. Which leads me to impute a later-life level of health-consciousness on his part, and that leads to the sort of “he just… died?” thoughts that are dancing about my pate at the moment.

mmf.

UPDATE: An hour later, another passing. Another friend of ours, in California, died in a diving accident yesterday. Both men were redheads, I just now realized. My high-school friend didn’t seem to have left a wife and kids, but our California pal does.

It’s a sad day.

Dock Blogs

Your Dock, if you please (kottke.org) sez Jason, and lots and lots of folks share.

After reflection, I realized that I should actually just post full screeencaps because of the way I have the Dock and other stuff configured.

On my left screen, I have DragThing hidden to the bottom, sliding up when I mouse over a tab; it also runs a process dock down the left side of the screen, and provides me with an old-school desktop trashcan. I also use ASM to bring the old system menu back.

On my right screen, a vanilla Dock runs exposed at all times. That screen is displayed on an aged 21-inch fixed-rez RasterOps monitor, so I use it as my document screen when working in Photoshop or other graphics-oriented apps.

Others have been listing apps, but I’m not gonna; I’d be here all night.

leftscreen.jpg rightscreen.jpg

(bonus points for the person that gets the joke in my title for this entry)