Category: Uncategorized

In the 1930s, Joseph Stalin introduced the giant Pacific Crab to the northern coast of the Soviet Union. Now the crab’s ancestors, now called the Kamchatka or Red King Crab have mobilized and are marching south along Norway’s coast, devouring everything in their path.

They now number more than 10 million and have reached the Lofoten Islands off north-west Scandinavia, leaving in their wake what one expert described as “an underwater desert”.

In a graphic display of the extent of the crab’s submarine domination, some photographs of the ocean floor in Kirkenes in northern Norway show a writhing mass of the ugly, spiny animals.

Northern clams and other shellfish, once so numerous that divers could scoop up handfuls, have been all but eliminated.

That article would be so much more improved if there was a Thomas Nast-style “artist conception” of a giant crab emblazoned with “C.C.C.P.” and a hammer and sickle on its back marching on Europe.

Because I’m such a “valued customer”, AT&T Wireless has decided to send me an “improved” T226 phone to replace my “old” T68i. Apparently there is something critically wrong with them because their definition of “improvement” is clearly suspect because when comparing the two, the T68i is clearly superior.

I’ve never really had many complaints about AT&T’s service, but clearly the fever has reached their head and they need to be put down.

Ladies and gentlemen, the drum solo. All of them.

It’s no great secret that I hate the Baby Boomers – in short, I despise their self-righteousness, their sanctimoniousness, their whining sense of entitlement, and a series of economic, social, and political plagues that my generation (and the ones following) are going to have to mop up. I can’t help but snicker at any “stick it to the Boomers” story, so when Alan Greenspan’s comments to the House Budget Committee hit the news I happily pictured him as a cackling Richard Widmark in Kiss Of Death kicking the Boomer wheelchair down the stairs.

The Long Beach Press-Telegram had a superior headline in their print edition: “Greenspan to Boomers: We Can’t Afford You”

(nota bene: I fully expect Social Security to be a non-entity by the time I’m old enough to be eligible for it. I’ve resigned myself to accept that the money I’ve paid into Social Security is lost and if given the choice I’d rather not pay into it at all.)

For the first time in well over sixty years, a new character will be added to the Morse Code. Not surprisingly, it’s the code for the @ sign, so Morse users can finally tap out their email addresses. The code is dot-dash-dash-dot-dash-dot which is a combination of the signals for “A” (dot-dash) and “C” (dash-dot-dash-dot) with no space between them. The new “@” character goes by the name of “commat.”

Or else the CPRR, sorry, the Central Pacific Railroad Photographic History Museum will literally beat you senseless with their twenty pound terms-of-service agreement.

I dare anyone to post an inline image from their site.

I make my living as a network admin/tech support manager and this article in the New York Times is completely on the money.

Many of the computationally confused say they suffer from genuine intimidation and even panic over how to handle the mysterious machines they have come to rely on for so much of daily life. Virus writers, spammers and scammers, they say, are the ones who should be held accountable for the chaos they cause.

But as the same people equip themselves with fancy computers and take advantage of the Internet for things like shopping and banking, critics say that their perpetual state of confusion has begun to get tiresome. And while the Internet’s traditional villains remain elusive, those inadvertently helping them tend to be friends and neighbors.

…..

And some, tired of being treated like free help lines, are beginning to rebel. They are telling friends, relatives and random acquaintances to figure it out on their own.

More to the point, I think it’s simple common courtesy. It’s not acceptable to approach a doctor or a lawyer outside of their office for free advice and I see no reason why IT folks shouldn’t be treated the same way. Otherwise I’ll be happy to help… at a price.

Meanwhile, this person strikes a blow again gender stereotyping:

But his girlfriend, Miriam Tauber, 24, makes no apologies for her lack of computer knowledge. To her, computers are like “moody people” who behave illogically. If people like Mr. Rubenstein expect her to understand them, she suggests, perhaps they should learn to speak in a language she can understand, rather than ridiculous acronyms and suffixes.

“There are these MP3’s and PDF’s and a million other things that you don’t even know what they are,” Ms. Tauber said. “I don’t feel like I need to figure out computers, because my instinct is there’s just no way.”

Then may I suggest that you don’t use a computer ever.

It’s been a couple weeks since the last squid story, therefore:

A squid that shines like a torch could lead to a new generation of optical tools. Scientists have been studying the Hawaiian bobtail squid which aims a beam down from its belly as a searchlight when looking for food. It also helps protect the squid from predators by reducing its tell-tale shadow on the ocean floor. The creature’s light-producing organ is powered by glowing bacteria. But the beam is produced by stacks of reflecting plates which surround the it.

I don’t wish for a lot of things, but I will make an exception here. I sincerely wish that in the next couple years it is discovered that low-carb diets cause a wide-range of health problems. Low-carb zealots have hell to pay for unleashing this food atrocity upon the earth.

And in Escondido, Calif., John Pontrelli, owner of Pit Stop Pasta, offers what may be a traditionalist’s worst nightmare: “pizza in a bucket.” It has all the pizza toppings placed in a crock or, for takeout customers, a metal can.

While it’s not a big item, he said, some people have asked for it, and “Our motto here is: you want to say no to people as little as possible.”

Happy birthday Macintosh – you are now no longer a teenager! Thanks for providing me with a job and career for the past 16 years.