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| Jamboree 2010 | |||||||||
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I remarked last time on cougars,
older women who play with younger men, and MILFs, which I conjectured stands
for Mother In Law Figures. Readers
corrected me and introduced me to the Urban Dictionary www.urbandictionary.com, which has
such definitions. It seems that cougars
may be so named because they tend to be evasive, hiding their nature until they
get a man isolated, or because they hunt and pounce. Why they should need to evade or hunt or
pounce I'm not sure; the average young man is eager to get into any
well-stuffed panties he can catch, age no barrier. And MILF stands for Mom I'd Like (to)
Fuck. Live and learn; I'm still doing
both. We finally saw a movie, the first
since our daughter died. We attended
with Daughter #2 Cheryl, who I think tracks every movie ever made. This was 2012, the date deriving from
the Maya Calendar, which ends in that year.
No, the Mayas did not predict the end of the world; it was merely the
completion of a long cycle that could mean anything, including destruction or a
new beginning. I have reference to their
complex calendar in GEODYSSEY #5, Climate of Change, due from TOR in
hardcover in Mayhem 2010. The movie
suggests that a burst of radiation from the sun heats the core of the world,
and the crust starts to melt and buckle.
The crust we live on. It's
standard formula, following a few individuals or families as they struggle to
win their way to giant armored arks that can ride out the deluge when the sea
heaves. Reviews said there was not much
plot, but terrific effects. Well, there
was enough story to carry it, and the effects were phenomenal, as they escape
in a car with the road buckling behind them and buildings falling before
them. Then in a small airplane as the
runway cracks asunder and the ground collapses.
And in a larger plane as the huge quiescent volcano that is the
Yellowstone national park revives and spews fire streams into the air. And a yet larger plane, crossing the world without
quite enough fuel. Evidently the
producer lacked the imagination to get more variety of dangers, but still, the
scenes are breathtaking. Just turn off
your thinking mind and go with the flow, like a roller coaster. I read I Sing the Body Departed
by J R Rain. A man discovers he is a
ghost, without quite remembering the details.
He must figure out who killed him and why, and resolve the mystery of a
young boy ghost he encounters. He can
draw limited power from living people or from electric circuits so as to become
faintly visible or audible or have some slight physical impact. A lady medium can see and hear him, and some
other living folk can perceive him if they try.
It's a murder mystery with a different kind of protagonist. I found it easy reading and interesting, if
not phenomenal. He's afraid to move on,
in part because he fears it is Hell he is destined for, and he does have some
grounds for concern. This strikes me as
a reasonable explanation for the ghosts we know of. I don't pay a lot of attention to
scandals of the moment, but do note that Tiger Woods got caught making out with
what, a dozen girlfriends? So they named
him athlete of the decade. I guess he
had balls, and found holes to fill. I read Feeling Lucky by
Walter Knight. This is a facile romp,
parodying the follies of recent wars and manners. The protagonist is a gambling addict,
constantly getting into debt and trouble, and as constantly wangling his way
out of both. At one point he takes an
enlistment bonus, uses it to win big money, then discovers he can't simply
repay it. He's stuck in the military
service, fighting spider-like creatures who invaded an Earth colony
planet. He and his men go on a
spider-killing spree until they get captured.
Then the spiders put him on trial, and we see things from their side: he
was wantonly slaughtering spider men, women, and children. They do have a case. As one of his men remarks, “Think about it. We killed over 300 spiders here today. Big spiders, little spiders, all kinds of
different spiders. And then, we ate
them. We cooked them and we ate
them. They're going to be real pissed
off about that.” He manages to get out
of that and go after an ant empire that was going to attack the human
empire. It's wild, improbable, but great
adventure. Its the first of a ten novel
series. www.PenumbraPublishing.com. They
are listed in my Survey of electronic publishers. I set up three main chores for
Dismember 2009: spreading more gravel along our long irregular drive,
reshelving and properly listing my collection of file copies of all my novels,
and setting up a new operating system for my writing computer. All were problematical in their fashions. I have a little wagon I use for moving my
archery targets and for gravel, and I used it, but a tire went flat, so next
day I used the wheelbarrow. A full load
there must weigh around 300 pounds, and I was really straining to lift and push
it along. I got the job done, but then
came down with hemorrhoids. O joy. That's a pain in the ass, and just in time
for Christmas Day. The shelving consisted of taking
down all my file copies of my own published novels in their American, British,
German, Japanese etc. editions, hardcover, trade paperbacks, mass market
paperbacks, several hundred copies in all.
I cleared new shelves to make space, checked the editions off on a
bibliography printout, and put them back in order of publication, with series
grouped. Straightforward, I
thought. Ha. Some copies were missing; it seemed I had
never received some author copies from my foreign rights agent. Too often publishers simply ignore
contractual details like author's copies, and the author who makes too much of
an issue can get blacklisted. I have
been there, done that. So I don't make
an issue unless they stiff me on payment, as they sometimes do. So I have missing copies, annoyingly. Then I reconciled the marked biblio with my
Master List, which is my file recording the novels I write, where I sell them,
how well they do, etc. So if a fan asks
whether there was ever a French edition of Omnivore, for example, I can
look it up and say yes, in 1973, but I have no copy. Well it had taken me about 11 hours to
reshelve the books. It took longer to
reconcile the lists. But I got it done. And the computer. T M and Michelle Chandrasekhar very nicely
sent me disks with Ubuntu and Kubuntu 9.10, and I installed Kubuntu. Sigh.
This is supposed to be one of the sharpest distributions of the Linux
operating system, but it turned out to be a monster. It wiped out my modem connection; I can no
longer go online. Oh, there are
instructions for how to get back online.
They begin by telling me to go online and download the program I need to
do it. I kid you not; it's Catch
22. Apparently no one at Ubuntu ever
actually tried to do it via dial-up on a new machine. Then I could not get my keyboard. I use the original Dvorak, but the computer
folk randomly moved the punctuation around so that for example my “don't” comes
out “don;t.” So I substitute my keyboard
variant and use that. What we do is put
it in place of the Denmark keyboard, because that abbreviates Dk, which then stands
for Dvorak. But Kubuntu has hidden the
keyboard files somewhere inaccessible to we can't access them, and I am stuck
using the wrong punctuation, then painstakingly correcting it “by hand,” as I
did when editing this column. Obviously I won't be typing a novel that
way. Kubuntu also has no games. They surely existed, but again, there is no
way to access them. I like to play the
card game “Grandfather” to unwind. Now I
can't unwind, as perhaps the ire of this paragraph shows. I have several macros I like to set up and
use, such as for Date, Time, and the degree symbol. But when I try to assign a macro to a key,
such as control D for Date, Kubuntu intercepts with a message that I need Java
to do that, then locks up my system including the keyboard, which I have to
crash and reset to get out of. Again, my
patience with this sort of thing is limited.
Nobody in Kubuntu has tried to post a macro? A prior edition of Kubuntu I used several
years back did not have that problem: why does it suddenly need Java, and why
won't it wait for me to try to get it?
And I normally back up my material several times a day, because when I
didn't, my system crashed and cost me irreplaceable material. But Kubuntu stopped letting me backup to my
disk, claiming it was read-only. So I
went to another disk and it worked several times, then locked up similarly. I
had to go to a third disk. Then another
day it started allowing me to use the first disk, a few times, before it locked
up again. But you can see how I am loath
to use a program that picks and chooses when it will let me back up. There are lesser nuisances, such as its
occasional refusal to let me copy in a file to a particular directory, and its
refusal to hold my defaults in the file handler Konqueror, and a very slow Open
File facility in OpenOffice that I timed at two minutes and six seconds to open
just one file. There are features I
like, and I think it could be a nice system.
But as it stands, it's a nest of scorpions, not at all suitable for
serious use by a non-geek. Yes, we
bought huge Ubuntu manuals; no, they didn't help. I expect to try Ubuntu next, to see if it has
similar problems: if it does, I'll have to return to my years-old Xandros,
which at least does work, if creakily.
Meanwhile I had to do the Survey update on my wife's Windows
computer. I believe I have remarked
before on the folly of Open Source driving serious users back to
Microsoft. I suspect I have fans at
Microsoft who are seriously entertained observing my efforts to flee their
corral. I also wrote an erotic story,
“Medusa,” 10,000 words, to donate to eXcessica, which covers its operating
costs by selling anthologies of donated stories. This publisher seems worthwhile, so I support
it in this manner. “Medusa” is the story
of a member of HETA—Humans for the Ethical Treatment of Aliens—who takes a job
with the space service to care for and study a captive alien (to us)
creature. She is tiger-like, and has
tentacles on her head to hold what she eats, thus the nickname. She comes to trust him, and reveals more of
her nature: she is near-sapient, and she is a versatile shape-changer. Not instant, but in the course of hours she
is remarkably apt. She assumes the form
of a lovely human woman, offering him sex in exchange for his help for her to
escape before she gets killed. He
sympathizes, and he knows HETA will be really interested, and she is damned
tempting. But if he enters her cage,
will she instead kill him? There is no
fool like a stiff with a stiff penis.
Thus proceeds the story. Mundane incident: we got a flat
tire on our Prius, an unrepairable blowout.
I got out the manual and started in to jack up the car and replace the
blown tire with the temporary spare kept under the back deck. The job took an hour and a half, including
pumping up the spare, as I felt my way through step by step, and then it was a
four hour round trip to the Crystal River dealer to get a new tire and general
service on the car. Ours was not subject
to the recall as it did not have the floor mat that could lock the accelerator
on. So the matter consumed much of the
last Wednesday of the year. But,
surprise: everything was in order. The
tools were where the manual said they were, the jack worked, and they even had
straps to fasten down the blown tire.
The temporary tire worked perfectly.
Once again, Prius showed it was crafted with the user in mind. Maybe Toyota should set up a school for
computer programmers... Last column I remarked on the
several hair conditioners I use, now that I have long locks. Readers sent in suggestions. I really don't need more brands, but am
willing to experiment. So I tried Mane
'n Tail, which is for horses and for people.
Okay, it makes for a full-bodied mass, yes, like a horse's tail. I prefer the more controlled look I get with
VO5, but there's a case to be made for the horsey look. So I recommend it for filly fanciers who want
to resemble their steeds, or maybe for men who want to attract horsewomen. It's a huge bottle that will last for a long
time. My daughter also found SMOOTH AS
SILK conditioner for me, which you apply and then rinse out. That's even more fluffy, making me look as if
I have three times as much hair as I have.
Well... We have a Kindle Reader, and a Sony
Reader. We bought a third, the Foxit
eSlick, to compare. Well, the Kindle was
easy from the start; the Sony was a struggle but finally worked. The eSlick is a monster that we have yet to
tame, complicated and balky. So my wife
reads novels on the Kindle, I read manuscripts on the Sony, and maybe
eventually we'll tame the eSlick and find out what it can do. Meanwhile it seems that five publishing
giants are banding together to develop a new electronic reader that will
display color and work on a variety of devices, hoping to challenge Kindle. Well, we'll be interested, when. But they had better make it easy to set up
and operate. That means they should ban
computer programmers. NEW SCIENTIST reviewed a book
titled Storms of My Grandchildren: The truth about the coming climate
catastrophe and our last chance to save humanity by James Hansen. The reviewer says it is the most frightening
book he has read. I can see why. It says that our overuse of fossil fuels,
combined with the brighter sunlight, will trigger a runaway greenhouse effect
that will ultimately lead to the oceans boiling away. This won't happen in our lifetimes, but it
does suggest that life on Earth as we know it will inevitably perish. Our contemporary governments are more
responsive to short term special interests than to the common good, and will not
halt the deadly process: international efforts are not effective for that
reason. Unless we have a literal green
revolution overthrowing the present system, and soon, we are doomed. Okay, this could be an exaggeration, but the
author's prior predictions, such as about the rapid melting of the ice caps,
are proving out, and he's probably right this time. We will continue in denial until it is too
late. I'm glad I am not living in my
great-grandchildren's world. Here's something to consider:
according to the book Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer, animal
agriculture is the leading cause of climate change. It makes a 40% greater contribution to global
warming than all transportation in the world combined. Driving a Prius helps (we do), but if we're
eating Big Macs (we don't) we're hurting the environment more. Farmed animals produce 130 times as much
waste as the human population, and it is not treated; it is sprayed into the
environment. The livestock industry consumes 70% of the water in the American
West. If irrigation supports were
removed, ground beef would cost $35 a pound.
It takes 26 calories fed to an animal to produce 1 calorie of animal
flesh. So its really a colossal waste of
food. Also, there are health advantages
in vegetarian diets. And, I add, it is
no longer necessary to give up the look, feel, and taste of meat: there are
vegetable substitutes that seem very similar to the originals. So there's really not much excuse, is
there? Vegetarianism is the wave of the
future—if there is to be a livable future on this planet. And another: a man named Stan
Ovshinsky is doing something tangible to help the environment. He developed the technology and designed the
production method that made it possible to produce solar cell material “by the
mile.” In Auburn Hills north of Detroit
is a plant with a machine about the length of a football field running
continuously, turning out miles of thin, flexible solar energy material from
which solar panels can be sliced and shaped.
Affordable power from the sun: this is getting there. The same man invented the nickel metal
hydride battery that hybrid cars use, and he has a hybrid hydrogen prototype
car using a safe solid-state hydrogen storage system he invented. Now there's a car for the future! Item in THE WEEK: Religion today is
increasingly a do-it-yourself approach.
Folk pick and choose beliefs regardless of the religions they profess to
belong to. For example, 22% of
Christians believe in reincarnation, which is part of Buddhism and Hinduism,
not Christianity. According to JFK and the
Unspeakable: Why He Died & Why it Matters, by James W Douglass,
President Kennedy was slain as a warning to future presidents and members of
congress not to challenge the military-industrial complex. Kennedy tried to thwart the efforts of top
military officers who wanted to make a first nuclear strike on the Soviet
union, and he withdrew defense contracts from US steel companies that reneged
on their promises not to raise prices, and he made a treaty with the Soviet
Union to ban atmospheric testing of nuclear weapons. But his worst sin was secretly reaching out
to Russian leader Nikita Khrushchev to explore ways to make peace. The huge profits are in war. So Kennedy was killed. Do I believe this? I wouldn't put it past the profiteers, but I
don't see evidence that they actually did it.
He was killed by a lone gunman.
I'd like to know more, in part because I have a thing about Kennedy: he
was the first president I got to vote for, after achieving my US
citizenship. I think it's a shame that
he was killed. There are ways in which
President Obama reminds me of Kennedy; I hope the parallel does not extent to
his assassination. We're on the University of Florida
mailing list (not the only one we're on, dating
from the days when we had more money and donated more generously for
projects we supported), so we get their slick magazine EXPLORE featuring their
research. It can be impressive. Their research on human lice offers insight
into the development of clothing. That's
one of my interests, because I believe that clothing was integral to mankind's
development of hairlessness: as I have mentioned before, he had to have lost
his fur in conjunction with the wearing of clothing. So what does this have to do with lice? Well, there are head lice and body/clothing
lice. The latter could not have emerged
until clothing existed (duh!), so if we figure out when those lice evolved, we
will know when clothing did. And a study
of the mutation rate and DNA of modern lice suggests that the two types diverged
about 650,000 years ago. The accepted
figure for clothing has been 100,000 years: so much for that. It also seems that when Neandertal man
diverged from modern man, so did his body lice.
Neandertal is gone, but his lice survive as a subspecies on modern
man. That indicates that the two
man-types did interact socially. Hell,
they probably had sex, though they couldn't breed, and the lice transferred
when the bodies were in close contact.
The lice reveal the ancient scandal.
Somewhere the ghost of a Neandertal maiden may be blushing. Which may relate: today's youth
fashion is Hooking Up. That is, having
casual sex without expectation of any larger commitment. It seems that about 75% of college students
hook up by their senior year, with an average number of 6.9 partners. Six and nine tenths? I'd be nervous about having sex with a girl
who was only nine-tenths there. But of
course I'm well into old fogeydom and don't understand contemporary ways. Still, since Neandertals were more solid than
Moderns, maybe nine tenths of one of their girls would seem to be all there
anyway. But no, I'm not actually old
enough or young enough to know from personal experience. They may be on the verge of
developing an effective anti-computer-virus vaccine. This will intercept any file or attachment
that could possible hold a virus and attach a code to it that will disable any
virus it contains. It won't need to know
what virus is there; it's a general purpose treatment that will nullify any
virus. Will it work? I have always felt that the servers could
eliminate viruses if they really wanted to.
So they may balk at this. We'll
see. I mentioned having a number of
teeth out, to make way for partial dentures.
It turns out that the process will take months, as they do things one at
a time. I have had two root canals in
supportive teeth, and one tooth has been prepared for a crown. I am belatedly realizing that I may have
blundered into the most time consuming and expensive option. I didn't want to sacrifice teeth that were in
good order, just take out the bad ones.
My wife say I should have had them all out and gotten full dentures; it
would have been faster and cheaper.
Maybe so. At any rate, now I am
chewing on about four teeth, and it takes me 1.5 to 2 hours to complete
supper. Sometimes I start falling asleep
before I finish. I bite my tongue too
often; it seems my tongue gets carelessly into those spaces between teeth. So I supplement with what I call
“glop”--nutritive drinks. Publix had a
half price sale on Boost, and Nutrament at a dollar a can, and their
store-brand equivalent is relatively cheap, and Sam's Club is cheaper, so we
have plenty. But I look forward to the
time, still months distant, when I will have a full set of teeth again and can
chew efficiently. We had a quiet Christmas day. Usually we have had visits and/or calls from
the daughters and families, but this time one daughter is dead and the other is
in Oregon helping that family. So we
were alone together. It reminds me of
the general course of our marriage, wherein for the first decade or so it was
just us, as we suffered miscarriages of our first three babies. Then we had two decades of family, until the
second daughter departed for college.
Then twenty years alone again, but the daughters were in constant
touch. Now it is quiet. I think of how late in 2008 I had the
devastating “Reclast Flu” a non-illness that nevertheless had me in a fever for
18 days and took me months to recover from.
But late in 2009 was worse. My
wife was on the phone, and when I came she passed me a note: PENNY DIED. And the bottom fell out of that portion of my
existence. We are coping, but that's a
wound that will never heal completely. Life continues. We have assorted plants, and each has its
nature and its history. One was a
Christmas Cactus whose pot I set near the back screen door until we decided
where to plant it. But when weeks later
I went to pick up the pot, it fell apart.
The plant had rooted to the pavement.
So we left it there, and it has prospered. This year I counted 115 flower buds forming,
and they bloomed profusely in December.
The last one opened on Christmas day, vindicating its name. We are boarding Chery's cat Stagecoach, so
named because she found him lost as a month-old kitten on Stagecoach Road,
about a decade ago. He has come to know
and accept us, knowing that Cheryl will return in time. And the last day of the year I repaired a blown
wagon tire. Little successes like these
brighten my dull existence. Sure, I'd
love to have a blockbuster movie made from one of my novels, and become famous
again for a few months, but until that happens, plants, cats, and tires are
about my mundane speed. My best to all of you for the year
2010. | |||||||||
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