One year ago today: March 7, 2018, memory displacement.
Five years ago today: March 7, 2014, fun with Qbasic.
Nine years ago today: March 7, 2010, define 'approved", Amtrak.
Random years ago today: March 7, 2007, spiffy.
If I’ve done my homework, you should see a gif of watering the yellow-tipped mother-in-law tongues, a.k.a African spear plants and snake plants. This is new technology for me. It’s not like I have a bunch of school chums who learned it instead of arithmetic. Consider them stand-ins for videos. I have videos but they don’t always play right on some devices, and in general they are finicky to work with. Gifs, on the other hand, seem to work almost by themselves. So cut me some slack in the excitement department.
I won’t give away the process, but that points you in the right direction. My opinion remains the same, if you don’t want something copied, don’t place it on a copyable medium. I do see their point, but I think they are pushing it the wrong way. Nor do I like the way they claim that copying hurts the artist. Nonsense, by the time he’s produced anything worth stealing, he’s got his money and he’s long gone. And I’m of the opinion that real artists perform live, and live shows cannot be pirated. But the copyright people are trying to go too far. They are not the host, they are the parasites and in some cases the artists are not allowed to perform their own versions. As I said, too far.
Is it time to mention food? Why not? In a rush last day, thinking I bought two tubs of yogurt, I have one tub of, what is this? It’s got all the ingredients not good for you. The label calls it whipped topping. It’s water and hydrogenated oils of palm, palm kernel and cottonseed. I wonder why palm and palm kernel are not the same thing? They must know something we don’t. Anyway, the stuff is not whipped cream by any stretch. It won’t mix with cereal (it clumps), it takes forever to melt in cocoa, and curdles if you put it in coffee. So I’m using it as dip for ginger snaps. And it’s not bad.
I was up that way to get a bag of fertilizer for the plants, they have a twelve-week cycle. The instructions say use cactus fertilizer, which I can’t find. So, using millennial logic, cactus starts with a ‘c’ and so does citrus. I don’t think they needed fertilizer. Shown here are new sprouts already over an inch high overnight. That much growth in less than ten hours, half of it at night. And if I was going to write home about it, all but one of my gladiolus bulbs have taken root. This yard agriculture is pretty low-tech.
And the gif of me sharpening scissors is just to give today’s post a little feeling of motion.
Veer Cruiser, about $600.
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This is how our little box is looking these days. See the close-up of my box hinge. I had a lot of fun building this box. You bet I learned a lot. The box will probably wind up storing drill bits. I should be working on the spare room, but can’t get motivated when the weather is perfect for sprucing up the yard. Below I’ve included a picture of the plants that began sprouting within 16 hours of being transplanted. Mind you, these are known to be very hardy plants. And I read there are species of them that grow 12 feet tall. So much of what I had to say about house plants may not apply to this variety. See, I’ve got to learn that stuff, too.
I watched another hour of the Jensen Project, but it’s a bit much. Too many Disney scenes of teens alone together in the woods pretending you-know-what doesn’t exist. That type of movie is okay for the 1960s and the religious channels, but way too cheesy for me. The world was loosening up nicely by the time I got to my teens but now it seems swinging back the other direction. I know this happens all through history, but why so fast this time? I mean, the Victorian era lasted a hundred years, didn’t it?
You hear about new outbreaks of measles and such that have not been a problem in fifty years. Most of the people who are getting these diseases have not been inoculated. There are several ways to regard that. I just don’t want to contract malaria right when I find out I rather like yard work.
I need a nice long break. It’s one thing to plug away on the renovations here, but without music, life lacks the edge for me. I don’t like being just another schmeeb. Neither of the two guitarists in the loop lately have called. There’s a guy calling himself “an old bird” advertising just to jam. That usually means he’s a northerner who eventually wound up staying. I might check that out. Anybody who plays classics along with me quickly enough gets the brainwave that we could make money at this. It’s just if I take a break now, by the time I return it will be the onset of the brutal summer weather, which I have been trying to avoid for twenty years running.
As for “The Jensen Project”, my rating is don’t bother. It lacks novelty, every scene is predictable, and too much of the air time is spent with adults apologizing over their early mistakes. The rebellious teen, the female department head, careful casting of every major American ethnic, the evil scientist, it adds up to mediocrity on disk. None of the actors have that winning glint and the teenage lead isn’t even a blonde. The movie comes across as designed in a Disney laboratory.
I have a plea to contemporary movie makers worldwide. Please, please, no more lame footage of geeky teens with spiky haircuts opening electronic doors with a smart phone and some alligator clips. Jesus, can’t you people come up with something better than that? It’s 2019.
My favorite detective novels are the ones that challenge me to figure out the spy or the killer. One of the books on my shelf wasn’t fiction, but an account of various murderers who lived in Alaska. I don’t identify with boom towns, so the reading is just enough to distract me. It’s mostly hookers and strippers disappearing, so the murders continue a long time before anybody notices a pattern. That usually seems to happen when bodies start showing up. More interesting is the number of times the police had the killer and let him go. The booklet is “Murder at 40 Below”.
It kept me reading because this was the era when police began to implement computerized profiling. They have such faith in it because at first it worked incredibly well. But soon they were letting killers free because they did not fit what the computer said. Isn’t that an interesting portent. Another is the number of times they release people from asylums who are still certifiably insane. If there is one group to be flagged, it is inmates who have previously killed a stranger. The ones released with surprising frequency are those who’ve best learned to play the system. I wonder what my profile would be, since although I never found the right lady, I always conducted my affairs as if I had gotten married successfully in my 30s.
One good outcome of the situation is that while Alaska ended death sentences, insane people had to be confined as in no day passes, and if the were “cured”, they had to serve their prison terms on release. I think. The wording isn’t so clear.
