Miscellaneous-Musings

There are people out there who really renew my faith in Darwinism. People who forcefully and surgically remove themselves from the gene pool through their own basic ignorance, stupidity, or plain bad judgement.

Normally, though, these people are somewhere "far, far away". Today, however, I came across an article in the paper edition of our little local paper (the Now newspaper).

It seems a fellow really, really wanted some copper wire...

So much so, in fact, that he broke into a CN Rail Yard, snuck stealthily about, and then grabbed onto his prey with a viper's grip. Unfortunately, the bare copper wire he grabbed was attached to a running generator...and was carrying over 27,000 volts at several amps at the time.

The resulting blast blew his boots off, and inflicted second degree burns to over 50% of his body. He was arrested without incident.

Here's a scan of the report...

There is a sad story today from New York regarding a city councillor there being gunned down in council chambers.

There is all sorts of irony to this story, but the thing that makes me shake my head is how the American news reporters seemed to miss the biggest irony...

The councillor who was shot, James E. Davis, supposedly was a "crusader against urban violence". But according to the story...

Davis, 41, a former police officer, was carrying a concealed 9mm handgun, but police officials said he never had a chance to draw his own weapon during the 2 p.m. attack.

Equally ironic...

''It's clear that Mr. Askew (the murderer) came in as the guest of James Davis and got around the magnetometer with James Davis,'' Bloomberg said.

...
"Bloomberg said he and councilors routinely bypassed the metal detectors, a practice the mayor vowed would end immediately."

So...the crusader against urban violence carried a concealed 9mm handgun and regularly bypassed the metal detectors around city hall...and was gunned down by a man carrying a 40 caliber handgun he escorted himself around the same metal detectors.

Its ironic that the anti-urban violence guy was gunned down. But to me, its a lot more ironic that he was carrying a concealed gun at the time, and that he regulary bypassed a security system intended to detect things like concealed guns. Crazy Americans...

Someone on one of the message forums I frequent posted a German "safety" video. You need Windows Media to watch it: if you have Windows, you probably are good to…

My back hurts at the moment. Really badly. Sort of on the right side, between the shoulder blades. Its bad enough that the pain shoots down my arm, and at times I feel like I can't breath.

Yesterday I couldn't even lift a coffee cup with my right hand. Reaching for the mouse on my computer hurt. I drove to a store five minutes away, and ended up having Irene drive back because I couldn't steer well due to the shooting pain.

Today its a bit better...a Tylenol 3, two Robaxecets, and a couple of Vioxx so far, and its only 2:30 PM. All of this pain is one thing, but what really bugs me is ...

...the fact that I can't point at anything I did and say "that hurt my back". I had a dream in the wee hours of Sunday morning in which I hurt my back. I suddenly woke up in pain, and sure enough, my back was sore. But what did I *do*?

Probably whatever it was wasn't very heroic. I likely bent over wrong, or picked something up that I can't remember...something dull like that. If I was into extreme sports, I could say something like I twisted my back while free climbing some 1000' sheer drop, but no, all I can do is look at how my posture when I reach for the mouse and stuff like that.

Oh well. On the plus side, I get to take large quantities of pain killers and lie on the floor a bit. Thats always fun...

I sometimes hear or experience something that cements my way of thinking. Sort of a "eureka!" moment, I suppose, but on a personal "philosophical" level. I had one of those moments earlier this week.

Someone made a comment, a standard cliche heard in corporate circles all the time: If we aren't growing, we are dying. Naturally, I've heard this comment before. And I've had a fundamental disagreement with it, but this time a bunch of thoughts came together at once for me.

I am a consumer. Not quite a BMW driving, Latte sipping, Armani wearing Yuppie, but sort of the techy equivalent. I don't feel a need to apologize for my life. But in recent years, I've made some decisions regarding the balance between "more!" and "happy!". I've jumped off the career fastpath, taken an effective pay cut, and started doing work I enjoy more. I haven't gone to live in a sod hut, or stopped buying computer upgrades: but I've made some changes. So maybe that's made me more sensitive to the extreme side of the capitalist/consumerist ethic.

So what bothered me about the "we gotta be growing or we're dying" statement? Basically, its at the root of the dotcom bubble, and its part of the "evil" of the stock market.

Ten years ago I disagreed with this statement, when my employer at the time started laying people off because we "only" grew our profit by 10% that year. Years ago, you didn't lay people off unless you were losing money. In the 90's, it became normal to dump people just because you weren't growing fast enough. But I didn't really meld this into a personal philosophy.

I think a better personal statement for me would be "if you aren't improving, you are dying". I don't think growth or expansion equals improvement. If it did, cancer would be the most successful form of life: it grows really well. An individual or a company that is becoming more efficient, that is learning and correcting its "bad habits", that produces a better product, that delivers faster and provides a more satisfactory solution to its client, that is "happier"...that company is better than a company that simply gets bigger.

I'd like to think that what I'm saying here is just common sense. But it doesn't seem to be that way. I still hear that cliche statement, and it continues to bother me...

Getting better, not necessarily richer...

Earlier today I was deep in thought trying to get a computer system to cooperate here at the home of the Fur Olympics. The doorbell rang, which always irritates me when I have a computer in pieces and its not behaving properly.

In that frame of mind, I opened the door. A white haired gentleman was there, and he immediately began to berate me. Apparently, he and his wife had been walking by our house, and the lawn clippings on our sidewalk offended his sensibilities. He also informed me that he "knew the man who owned this house before...", as if this would somehow cause me to quiver in my boots.

I assured the fellow that I had just finished mowing the lawn an hour or so earlier, and planned on sweeping up. He then told me that no one else on my block had such rude grasskeeping habits as I, and that he had seen my despicable behaviour before. He again reminded me that he knew the man who owned my house before.

Well, I swept the sidewalk. But let me tell you, I really wanted to find that old guy again and belt him one. So I had some grass clippings on my sidewalk. Unlike my neighbors, I mulch, which saves nature etcetera. It also saves me from having to bag lawn clippings, but apparently it offends this old fellow.

But what really bugged me about what he said was his "I knew the man who lived here before you..." line. Exactly why should I care? I own the house now, I pay the mortgage, the taxes, and the other sundry bills. If he finds my sidewalk keeping habits unsatisfactory, well whoopdee fricking doo. I'm happy to hear a polite opinion, but this wasn't an opinion, it wasn't even remotely polite. I've never complained about our neighbor's howling dog, or the 2:30 AM backyard beer fests their teenagers have. I don't get go across the street and tell Mr. "I've got a leaf blower and I'm going to find something to blow around every blasted weekend" to shut his noisy contraption off. And now he has a gas powered pressure washer...

But right about now, I really figure I should start complaining. Apparently, once you reach a certain age, that becomes your right. Just walk right up, and piss some one off with your useless, self-absorbed, myopic, and basically irritating opinion. And frankly, I've about had it up to here (points somewhere above the top of his head) with retired wastes of good oxygen telling me how offensive my grass clippings are.

The moral: if you come to my door, with some complaint about something as earth-shatteringly critical as my lawn keeping habits, then I strongly advise that you approach it with some degree of subtlety, wit, and friendliness. Otherwise, keep your trap shut and find something useful to do with your life.

You may recall my story about the amazing stock trader, Andrew Carlssin, who claimed to be from the future.

Well, I was fooled. I didn’t read the fine print regarding where that story came from. It originated on Weekly World News, and was reprinted all over the net. Apparently, the SEC and FBI were flooded by calls from news agencies to verify the story, so at least I wasn’t the only one who got sucked in. (more…)

Warning: the following is my current opinion. As my sagely nephew often says, Opinions are like a$$holes...

George W. Bush ("Dubblya" to his friends) said that the American people had to strike against the "axis of evil". Thousands went to war, and I think the battle went as cleanly and quickly as any of us could have hoped. But what was it about? And what happens now?

Continued on the next page

There is a guy currently in jail in New York for the crime of making too much money too quickly on the stock market. He started with $800 and, in two weeks, had a stock portfolio worth over $350 million. He did this on in a mere 126 trades, every single one of them successful.

But that isn't the interesting part. The interesting part is that he says he's from the future...

Andrew Carlssin says that he's from the year 2256, and that he travelled back in time with the knowledge that our time period was one of the low points in the stock market's history. He also had a list of the key stocks and dates to buy. All he wants to do is go back to his time machine and travel back to his own time: if he's set free, he'll reveal the location of Osama Bin Laden, and will provide a cure for AIDS.

Okay, the guy is nutty as a fruitcake. But the claim that he is benefitting from insider trading seems pretty darned far-fetched as well. 126 perfect trades? 126 different stocks? This guy must have a freaking huge list of "insiders", all of whom know exactly how some announcement or another is going to drive their stock. Doesn't this seem just the teensiest bit unlikely?

So, how did he make 126 perfect and ultra-highrisk trades in a row? Furthermore, there is no record of this guy existing prior to December, 2002. Maybe he is from the future...

The little cat Irene brought home seems to have been a feline version of Typhoid Mary. She came complete with some sort of upper respiratory tract infection that has spread through our other cats.

I can hear you saying "but don't you keep new cats in isolation?" And the answer would be "uhm, yeah, sort of, well, for a few minutes, maybe." I think there was an element of "the kitten is cute: she should meet the other cats" mixed with "it sure would be nice to get past this awkward stage where our house is totally disrupted" feelings. Anyway, she was only in isolation for about 24 hours. And she was sick within 48. Here we are a week later, and half the cats in the house are under the weather.

Rommel, of course, is the worst hit. I say "of course" because I am a firm believer in Murphy. If you are about to go on a long car drive, that's the day your car will break down. If you have nearly maxed out your credit cards, thats just when you'll lose your job. And, if a cat is going to get really sick, its naturally going to be the cat that is the worst possible patient.

Continued