Did you know: there are several towns and cities across the United States called Woonsocket? It's like the City Fathers all got drunk on mead one day and had a contest for weirdest city name ever. The word is widely believed (by me) to be Nipmuc Indian for 'I will kill you and steal your horse, paleface'.
Pioneer captain Jeremiah 'Lucky' Pierre, addressing captured braves: 'You are defeated, you will now convert to Christianity and serve your new masters in the name of God, or die. Tell me, what do you savages call this place.'
Chief Ravenous Beaver: 'Wo oon sok k ket'
Which would explain Woonsocket, RI, the city whose motto is (no fooling) 'the most French place in the United Sates outside of Louisiana.' which I guess is in their favor. Apparently it's a nice place too, because the good people of Woonsocket, South Dakota named their town after it. New York was originally called New Amsterdam. There's New Orleans, New England, New Jersey, New Hampshire and so on. There's even a Paris in Arkansas. Some homesick fellow in the wild west must have had grand designs to found a new and beautiful city to rival the might and splendor of home, he would create his homeland afresh in foreign lands and it would be called: New Woonsocket (cue trumpets).
I don't really get the process behind place names in general. Consider New Mexico. Did American troops look at the battered country across the border after the Mexican-American War and think to themselves, 'Yeah, we should have one of those, the world needs another Mexico'?
For what it's worth, in case you think I'm picking unfairly on Woonsocket for having a funny name - as opposed to say Hygiene, Colorado or Santa Claus, Indiana [Google Maps] - westerners have trouble pronouncing my home town.
In 1979, the cast and crew of Rainbow made a special edition for the Thames TV staff Christmas tape. Though I grew out of this show around age ten it still has pretty colors, and a bear, and Geoffrey talking about his balls.
An artist by the name of Howard Hallis has made a picture of everything, like the most incredible Where's Waldo ever, and the most massive single instance of character copyright infringement I've yet seen, Howard Rules! First person (or simmilar) to find the following ten characters wins a candy bar and a lifetime supply of jumpers. Also, recognition.
(1) Token Black (South Park)
(2) Tinkerbell (Disney's Peter Pan)
(3) Marvin the Paranoid Android (HHGTTG, 2004)
(4) Cheetara (Thundercats)
(5) Emily (Tim Burton's Corpse Bride)
(6) Bam-Bam (The Flintstones)
(7) Double-D (Ed, Edd 'n Eddy)
(8) Goliath (Gargoyles, I'm dating myself here)
(9) The Cat in The Hat (Dr Seuss)
(10) Pikachu (Pokémon)
It's odd, to me, that I know the names and adventures of hundreds of cartoon characters. I know tons about them. I don't tend to know the full names of most of the acquaintances I pass on a daily basis, and next to nothing about their lives to date. So! ... mark up a copy of the picture with these ten numbers and email it in. I need to get rid of all these jumpers.
That's right, human flesh! You know, I actually had a bunch of sane things to say tonight. I was going to write about the the US exit polls, about Democracy in Africa. I was going to muse a little on the heated political attack ads [watch] that have been airing in the states.
I had some thoughts about the role of news media in the democratic process. I'm a little peeved with CNN, has anyone else noticed they've gotten hella sex negative recently? Describing perfectly ordinary adult websites as 'sleaze' where pornography whould have been a more accurate and nonjudgemental description. They even referred to bisexuality as a 'sexual problem' in their coverage of Ted Haggard, like they weren't concerned with him cheating on his wife with a hooker, or even that bothered about him using meth, but being attracted to men is apparently beyond the pale. (related video involving Richard Dawkins).
And then something wonderful happened, I typed the phrase 'like a potato' into google and was swept away on a magical journey of potato-like things. Books, Lex Luthor, pug dogs, Senators. I think we can all enjoy that while we wait on tomorrow's election results. And if you're still wondering what it is that eats human flesh, you can read all about it (extra, extra) at Emerald Bile.
'Let's face it,' he said. 'As iconic emblems of kitsch, there are two pillars of cheesy, campiness in the American pantheon. One is the velvet Elvis. The other is the pink flamingo.' - Robert Thompson
After shipping a whopping quarter billion (with a freaking B!) of the things Union Products of Leominster MA have finally discontinued the product.
The American Lawn Flamingo now faces abrupt population decline and eventual extinction. Oh well.
Social creatures, Lawn Flamingoes are unique among birds in having developed a hive structure simmilar to bees. Worker Flamingoes - usually seen in pairs - gather earthworms and larve in their hollow legs to feed the colony. Groups of workers may be guarded by the larger Warrior Flamingoes, which also protect the nest (or 'trailer') where the Queen carries out the mysterious process of reproduction. During the peak months of July and August a fully grown Queen can lay up to fifty jars of marmalade each day. Workers may be found tens of miles from their home trailer and how they traverse and navigate these distances is still uncertain.
Few scientists have bothered to study the American Lawn Flamingo, but some facts are known. They are naturally hardy, and can be found throughout the US with the densest popuations in the suburbs of Florida, Georgia, Texas and other states where 'y'all' is the correct second-person pronoun. Healthy flocks have also been observed around Hispanic immigrant populations, leading to the Yankee joke:
Edgar-Sue: How do you know a family of Flamingoes has moved into your neighbourhood?
Earl: They have little plastic Mexicans on their front lawn.
Originally introduced to North America in 1957, colonies quicky sprung up across the continent and can be observed to this day; seemingly unaffected by variations in climate, altitude or the existence of predators such as the common Garden Gnome.
Here's a crafty idea I had for a small, clandestine network of servers. GumStix sells tiny linux computers about the size of a stick of gum. They weigh about a quarter ounce - less than two teaspoons of water - and require very little power to run. They can also be configured to connect to WiFi or ethernet networks and set up like any other linux server, using a few cheap gigs on an SD card. All you need to do is set it up to automatically connect, enable remote access and connect it to a network somewhere. Voila, hidden server not easily traced to you, and because of it's small form factor it's easy to hide.
I came up with a couple ideas for setting up the botnet. We'll want to hide them on a lot of different networks, make sure they're always connected, and always have power. All over the world, ideally, and we don't want to do a lot of sneaking around to install them. Simplest idea I've had so far is to buy a bunch of cheap broadband/Wifi routers and put the gumstix PC inside the case. It has power, it's safe and dry, they're almost always online. Cover up one of the ethernet ports with a piece of PCI slot cover and connect the pins to your little server. Fiddle with the firmware on the router to allow it to invisibly access the net, then sell it on eBay UK.
Most Joe Bob Anybodys aren't going to open up their router to poke around, even if they did one more tiny green board is unlikely to arouse any suspicion, it's not like consumers pour over the circuit diagrams of their stuff. The UK is saturated with cheap broadband right now, so the router's likely to be plugged in to at least four megabits, sixteen if we're lucky (or we make our own luck). If you keep the server's bandwidth use moderate Joe Bob's highly unlikely to notice anything amiss :-)
Admittedly this is a fairly expensive way to go about building a personal botnet, but I it has advantages in terms of building web hosting swarms, and it sidesteps most of the issues you'd have to deal with when setting up a net. Compromised PCs can be turned of, get spyware infections, get replaced more often than routers and are not a good place to hide a bunch of files you're publishing.
Another idea is to do the same thing with a network printer, those big office printers that connect directly to the network rather than through a PC. The drawback to this is that business are more likely to have a clued-up IT department watching (and auditing) network traffic. But... who's going to suspect that the printer is up to no good? Watching. Listening. Projecting cold, critical malice from it's little LCD display, blowing whispered curses out the exhaust fan. Its hatred can be felt, warm to the touch, on every fresh page that slides out of it. No one ever suspects the printer.
But I digress. Newbie admins, take note. Printers are a serious risk to sensitive data and overall security. They know all about your documents before you can even put them in a folder marked Top Secret. It's been done before, during the cold war the CIA had Xerox technicians install a camera in the Russian Embassy's photocopier in Washington. Imagine the implications of a compromised printer in a bank or your small, local stockbroker's. But I'm more concerned with making a distributed hosting setup.
With WiFi in the mix the possibilities multiply. By playing the part of 'repair guy' they could be installed in electric signs, street lights, etc inside a weatherproof case (marked with *dire* warning labels) within range of hotspots. But that seems like more work than just posting them inside of cheap plastic routers.
Then again, I don't actually have use for a botnet, it's fun to work out some options :-)
See? This is why I don't want children. We could probably replace the baked beans with a bowl of mice and and this pudgy-fingered gobbling monstrosity would scarf 'em down. And then he'd say something cutesy and midwestern with a scary grin on his face.
Halloween is fast approaching (October already, where did this year go?) and there's going to be the usual business with kids dressed up as ghosts and monsters coming round the house and throwing eggs. They will have been turfed out of their own homes by their parents so that they might learn an important lesson in life: If you want something from a stranger, put on the scariest demeanour you can, then go round his house with your buddies and make a threat. Offer your hapless victim a choice between vague misfortune and giving you what you want. Playing is how we learn :-) Fine, good, so long as they're having fun.
It is kind of cool that this sort of thing is so stereotyped, that society in general makes up the most absurd things for kids to be afraid of. Overdone icons like plastic spiders and bats aren't scary, and we tell kids they are. In every other Scooby-Doo episode and TV Halloween special kids told, over and over, that they're expected to be afraid of spooOOOOooky stuff. Which is good, because that means we're not exposing kids to things that are actually scary. If I ever see a little girl dressed up as 'rape' for Halloween I'll know the ruse is coming undone.
Garfield's Jim Davis explains:
'Ghosts aren't scary...' he told me before explaining that before writing the strips he went around to everyone he knew and asked them what truly scared them. The answer he got most often was 'being alone' or 'dying alone'.
That's why Halloween's great, it's the one night of the year you can't possibly be afraid of children. It kicks ass that a bunch of 10 years olds come to my house and make to fright me with their werewolf costumes. They've been completely suckered into thinking the worst thing they're going to have to face in life is plastic werewolves.
If they thought a little more outside the box they could stay home, and then have a different little kid phone my house every night at midnight and tell me that I will die in a fire. That would worry me.
In what is sure to be long remebered as one of the most significant collections of knowledge concerning the human condition, I've gathered together some pictures:
These fine pope hats may be purchased from the following clerical hat dealers: eBay.comFantasyCostumes.comHalloweenExpo.netParadiseCostumes.com and many other, er, reputable establishments. Note to teachers: these make *fantastic* dunce hats, make the kid sit on a highchair facing the class and have him hold one finger up in the air. 'Billy, stop screwing around, do you want to be the Pope?'
I think this is outrageously cool. A DIY houseboat made from a caravan and barrel pontoons. I fully intend to be wealthy before I retire, if not, I might build one of these and find a large body of fresh water to float it around. I did some research. EBay sometimes has listings for old caravans that have axle trouble and/or dodgy electrics. They go for a song; check this out:
From the description: IT TOWS OK AND ALL RUNNING LIGHTS ARE WORKING ALL TYRES OK AND THE BRAKES, WIN IT TOW IT AWAY. SOLD AS SEEN PLEASE DONT BRING IT BACK!!!!
Clean out most of the junk inside, put in a double bed, a gas wok (for vegetarian stir fries and mushroom and tomato omlettes), and float that mofo. Assuming a four berth caravan weighs about 2500kg I'd want the pontoons to support 5500kg or so, maximum displacement. So that's 28 heavy duty 55 Gal plastic drums (208 liters each), 14 per pontoon lashed seven a side around a pair of aluminium pipes. No way that's sinking. Many recycling centres will give plastic drums away free or for a token charge, if they've contained something toxic they can be hard to resell and many small businesses aren't likely to bother. You can buy them new for US$20 or so, I personally prefer to make things out of stuff from the trash. More character that way, gives a history.
More aluminium pipes laterally between the pontoons to cradle the caravan chassis. Take the wheels off the caravan, strap it down, and we're about done. Some welding to attach an outboard motor, bitumen paint on the underside, maybe some wooden decking over the pontoons, a dinghy to tow behind it, and an anchor. Furnish to taste.
Bonus: Make a bigass kite to pull it with. And a pirate flag :-) Getting old is going to kick teh bottom.
I was thinking about newspapers today. Ordinary, pervasive, everyday things. They're almost an icon of normalcy, like cars and houses boxes of milk, things real and tangible in a world increasingly driven by unreal and intangible things. The things that actually shape our lives at this point in time are not real at all: Emails, bands, ideologies, credit card transactions, voice and text from our cell phones. There's no substance or form to these, they're only nouns by convention. What is an email? A lot of microscopic fluctuations in a magnetic field on the surface of an aluminum disc? Bursted, multiplexed dance on the surface of a carrier wave, existing only instantaneously as it flies right across the globe, into space and back again. If you give it substance by printing it on paper is it still an email, or just the text of an email, a rendering, like a photograph can be a rendering of a face, but isn't the face itself? I don't know. It's doubtful that the otherworldly magic of our technology can be readily understood in the traditional nouns and verbs of human languages that have developed over millennia to communicate the realities of the physical world.
That's why technology is still magic. The uncommon knowledge, jargon and whole technical languages used to work with computers are not very different to the forbidden knowledge of the occult and unintelligible incantation of spells that was widely believed to be the realm of magic not so very long ago. Witchcraft and black magic are still widely feared in much of the developing world by people educated and westernized enough to know better. I think for many ordinary people feeling of stigma and unknowability of the occult has been inherited by the technology.
A hacker writes a script to enter the CCTV system of a building on the other side of the world. He composes several verses in an esoteric language, written in a special, concise way, literally commanding mysterious and distant forces to summon an image of a faraway place into a piece of glass in front of him. The only difference between the hacker and a wizard chanting over a crystal ball is that the hacker actually has the power the wizard was imagined to have. The same is true of the geneticist mage creating plants and animals with supernatural properties, for the way the chemist mixes up drops and vials of things to make liquids that cure disease or make water safe to drink. It's all sorcery to most people. (continues after the jump)
I saw this guy this afternoon and was immediately overcome with the most profound sense of fellow feeling. It was as if I looked into his soul and saw a mirror of my own. Of course, I don't eat bacon, being a vegetarian and all. And I don't have a drug-zombie girlfriend with big teeth. But you get the idea.
The other Planeteers were devastated when Wilmot, with the Power of Chocolate, returned to Belgium to attend fat camp, though Gaia had come to regret giving him his ring. He would sit for hours with his fist in his mouth mumbling 'chocolate' around sticky fingers. His place would eventually be taken by Ma Ti, a whiny savage from South America, and without Wilmot's power Captain Planet lost his distinctive chocolatey smell and turned an unhealthy shade of blue. This worked out well for the show overall, as TBS would have been unlikely to broadcast it with a brown superhero in the early nineties.
Happy Friday Everyone. Apparently we have only four more days to live before the nucular war [sic].
In actual news: the rise of the machines. Regular visitors may have noticed a few changes hereabouts. For one, the captchas are gone, enticing spambots to leave their little electronic bowel movements on the blog.
There is a *very* passive-agressive bot trap lurking behind the form. Ordinary comments pass as usual, any that fail a battery of tests get rerouted to a script that tries a number of methods to catch or kill the bot.
So... if you have a comment to make about, say, viagara and mortgages email it to me rather than using the form. The script is intended to total web browsers (legally, no funny business with viruses), please accept genuine apologies if affects anyone commenting in good faith.
Enough disclaimer, let's look at the log :-)
Comment name: Simon
Comment email: firstname.lastname@example.org
Comment http: http://return2india.com/HyperNews/get/forums/shipping/1760/31.html
Comment text: Well done!
Mysql_time: 2006-09-7 11:24:02
HTTP_USER_AGENT: Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 6.0; Windows NT 5.1)
Comment name: Andy
Comment email: email@example.com
Comment http: http://bioinfo.mbi.ucla.edu/Members/shawnpamel/buy-viagra-online.html
Comment text: Nice site!
Mysql_time: 2006-09-7 11:28:20
HTTP_USER_AGENT: Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 6.0; Windows NT 5.1)
Each dot represents one minute of bot time spent receiving image tags pointing to huge jpegs courtesy of google. Check out the URL in the second spam comment, from the bioinformatics server at UCLA (fascinating course, btw). I emailed their admin about it but the contact email bounces. Curious that.
And then, one afternoon I found myself face to face with the Cupcake Statue of Liberty.
How beautiful she is. All that is American virtue shines serenely from her regal countenance. Welcome, sanctuary and freedom from opression. The downtrodden and persecuted, blessed by her runny sugar eyes as they start new lives in the land of the free. Her mad, foamy mouth whispering promises of opportunity and shigella.
Sing with me. Everyone.
O say, can you seeeeeeeee, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro'the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of brave.
On the shore dimly seen thro' the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, (tenor: CUPCAKES!)
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? (tenor: CUPCAKES!)
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream: (tenor: YUMMY SNACKS!)
'Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
One can imagine the internet as a great muddy sea that we surf with our keyboards, skimming it in erratic arcs and bursts, leaving yellow foamy wakes that spread out in a big V behind us, disturbing the lumps and bits. Floating rubbish and plastic bottecaps bob over the wake and it tips up an ancient condom wrapper suspended just below the surface, bouyed by tiny bubbles on it's foil underside, the logo still barely visible.
As I was surfing today a small white object caught my eye. I cut the power and slid the keyboard to a halt, the wake taking me over as I did and pushing the board the last meter to the white square. It was a page of scripture, sodden and stained, but holding together. It's from the Book of Joe, and made me smile:
1. In the beginning was the Invisible, and the Invisible was with the Unicorn, and the Invisible was the Unicorn.
2. The same was in the beginning with the Unicorn.
3. All things were blessed by Her; and without Her was not any thing blessed that was not blessed.
4. In Her was a life; and the hedonistic life was the Pinkness of women and men.¹
5. And the Pinkness shineth in the dark evil atheist conspiracy; and the darkness comprehended it not.
6. There was a man sent from the Unicorn, whose name was George.
7. The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the Pinkness, that all women and men through Her
8. He was that Pinkness, but was sent to bear witness of that Pinkness.
9. That was the true Pinkness, which lighteth every woman and man that cometh into the world.