On Links

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A friend asked how I come up with these links, so I thought I’d share with you just what goes into this whole process.

I subscribe to 119 different RSS feeds, and I read them in Google’s Reader. To make the reading process most efficient, I’ve installed 2 GreaseMonkey scripts: Google Reader for wider screens, and Google Reader Absolutely Compact. These get rid of the frills and wasted space (and the stupid “like” button).

I go through usually by category (news, photography, food, etc.), popping things open in new tabs to read, then marking them with a “star” if they’re something to be shared out. Those things which get shared out are usually from the news category, which contains feeds from such sites as the Association for Computing Machinery, Der Spiegel, the SF Chronicle’s Technology section, and so on. (I had to abandon Science Daily, because the volume was simply too much to handle!)

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After I’ve let things build up for about a week, sometimes two, I harvest all of my “starred items,” organize them into categories, and pop them into a post. I used to gather up all of the links manually, which was incredibly tedious. I wrote a little .php script to do that for me, though, and now can just deal with categorizing them, which takes some time as well. So, every day I probably read news feeds for about an hour, and once a week I spend another hour or so gathering and sorting.

The links I select are usually ones which I think would be of interest to my department, but I also try to get things which are simply important to the world (live in the US and wonder about volcanoes? USGS can tell you which to worry about!).

Happy Sunday!

-D

[The first photo is of Lord Kelvin, “Revolutionary Scientist.” The second is Che Guevarra, wearing the famous See You Jimmy Hat (Tam-o-Shanter) with attached “ginger locks”; this is probably making fun of both Che and The Tartan Army.]

Glasgow: where the wee are really, really strong

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Some of the expressions of the Glaswegians are … well, odd. I’ve heard someone called “wee man” and “big man” … in the same conversation. Now, to me, “wee” and “big” are sort of opposites. Either something is “wee” or it’s “big,” but it cannot be both. The really strange thing was that, in the context of the conversation, it made sense. “How’s it going, wee man?” To this, our database administrator poured out his woes, detailing his long nights, lost weekends, and endless conversations with Microsoft. After that, something was said along the lines of, “oh, aye, well, you’ll sort it oot, big man.”

Now, the “wee man” I could understand: our man, here, doesn’t top 100 lbs / 45 kgs. He truly is wee. He’s a man who eyes my teacup with awe: he claims that, if he were to drink a full teacup, he wouldn’t be able to eat lunch. He only ever takes a half-full teacup.

The “big man,” though, I think … is something else entirely. It does beg the question, though, as to why it’s used so ambiguously. I’m never “wee man,” but am called “big man” by all sorts of people, most of whom I have never met before in my life. So. Right. “Big” and “wee” do not necessarily mean “big” and “small.” Or something.

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To continue with the linguistic odyssey, there is, apparently, a neighborhood in Glasgow in which everybody calls everybody “pal.” As in, “thanks, pal,” or, “how’s it going, pal?” To our ears, “pal” is … well, something out of a 1930’s gangster movie, probably something spoken by Bogart, out of the corner of his mouth, around a cigarette, and with menace: “watch your back, pal, ’cause I’ll be watchin it too, see?”

To have a coworker ask, “how’s you, pal?” Well, that’s a bit odd. To have a delivery guy say, “thanks, pal?” That’s downright bizarre. It happens, though, and it’s … disconcerting.

We continue to be amazed at this land. One last thing: Glaswegians? They’re otherwise known as “weegies.” Again, with the “wee.”

-D

Music Makes Home

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So, we’re having a relaxing evening, playing Lexulous with relatives, each of us on our own computer, listening to Putomayo Music’s Latin Playground (at the moment – awhile ago it was the Out of Africa soundtrack, before that the Brandenburg Concertos).

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I looked over at T., at the beginning of the last song, and realized: Latin music is home for us both. She was dancing in her chair, as was I.

Last time we were home, while T. was getting her hair done, I went out for lunch. I went to a little Mexican restaurant and actually sat in, rather than taking away – it was simply so familiar, and tugged at me to stay. It’s strange: the second culture of California said “home” to me in a way which was so much stronger than anything else, and I realized that I’d missed it terribly.

It’s the same, listening to this album, on a full stereo.

Home seems to be Latin America, or, at least, the music of Latin America.

-D

Photographic Lunch

Every few weeks, my coworker A. gets his hair cut. I’ve told him that he could do just as well by buying a set of clippers, but he doesn’t listen. No matter, though, as I usually take the opportunity to go with him, and to wander around downtown Glasgow while he’s wasting his money. It costs me £1.50 or so, and I get a good half-hour of photography in.

Yesterday was a fabulous day for it, as it was quite sunny (in between showers), and the clouds were phenomenal. Taking pictures in high contrast situations, though, is a special kind of thing. To demonstrate the challenge, look at the two images below.

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The image to the left is “what the camera saw” … but it’s unfortunate, because it washes the sky out, and doesn’t show the beauty of the building at all. The one on the right, though, is a composite image: I took three photos, one overexposed (to show the building), one properly exposed (to get most of the content), and one underexposed (to get the sky). These three images were then blended together to give you the image to the right.

This photography technique (High Dynamic Range) tries to mimic the way the eye actually sees the world: when your eye focuses on something, your pupil dilates or contracts, to “meter” the area in focus. So, you’re constantly making the world more balanced, in terms of contrast. Doing this photographically, though, is rather a challenge. Some of the attempts I’ve made have been really eerie, and some have been absolutely stunning (or, at least I think so). Take a look at my photoset, and let me know what you think.

-D

Radio Interview

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I’ve just been on the phone with Mark Horwich, of American Public Media’s Marketplace radio show. What was supposed to be a ten minute conversation turned into thirty minutes.

We discussed my recent abandonment of FaceHook, just what’s wrong with the site, where they might end up, how they’ve conducted a bait-and-switch with their users, how the site has been designed to dissuade people from managing their privacy and their content, and how the site has locked people in by actively preventing communication. He wanted to know whether I was successful at getting anyone else to leave with me (“I have no way to check”), and whether I thought there was a future for FaceHook.

He also asked how I thought that FaceHook could make money, to which I responded that people would probably have been just as happy to have “instant personalization” if it had been on an opt-in basis, rather than having it forced upon them. Plus, the poor timing of it, as it came with sweeping changes to privacy, have conspired to bring both of these problems to people’s attention.

Have a listen, if you’re anywhere near one of their stations, or listen to them online. I hope to be included in the final broadcast, and will post again when they have a podcast up.


In related news, the Government of Norway claims that FaceHook has been reselling personal information. Does that surprise anybody?

-D

Guinness Cake, Redux

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So, when wee Alex had his birthday, he came to me. What did he say? “Can you make me a Guinness Cake? Please?” Once again, this cake met and exceeded expectations of wonderfulness – not too sweet, not too dry, and wonderfully overwhelming. Alex, of course, is in his 20’s, and refers to his hands as paws, and is certainly not wee. He’s even engaged to be married! (shh! he’s not telling too many people, as it’s an international thing, and nobody knows when they’ll be able to sort out the visas and all that)

This time I followed the full recipe (plus vanilla bean, cinnamon, and nutmeg) instead of Anne’s Version, and baked it in the 16-inch, square pan. I then cut it in 4, layering ganache in between, and coated the whole thing in ganache. It barely fit into the cake keeper.

In the office, there was a whole 5 minutes in which nobody talked, and all that could be heard was Jim, humming away happily. It was quite amazing.


It was 21°C / 70°F today, in Glasgow. With 69% humidity. It was horrifying. How will we ever adapt to California again?

May 20, in retrospect

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On May 20, all we seem to have is the year 2008. How distinctly odd! Well … D. wasn’t always snapping away with hundreds of photos a day. Sometimes he must have had to study or something. Maybe look for a new flat? On May 20, two years ago, we found what we thought would be a wonderful flat. It was in a converted church which had for years been a bookstore. Or had stored books. Or something. In any event, the place still had the stained glass windows, and it looked clean, and was quiet.

This was such a change from the Cranston Street flat that we leapt at the offer. We were so wrong about the silence, it’s not even funny. Not to be bitter about it all, but … well, if you don’t own your flat in the UK, you don’t really have much leverage when it comes to getting people to shut up.

Our neighbor downstairs was “studying to be a sound engineer,” which meant that he had massive speakers in his living room and would start to party when his girlfriend got home from working at the pub. So, come 4 a.m. and the party would start, the speakers would rock … and we’d call the police. They’d tell us to call some other public office, who would come out and measure the level of noise. They’d then ask – every single time – if we were the owners of the flat. When we said that, no, we were only renting, they’d apologize and say that there was nothing they could do.

Owning property makes you something special in the UK. So much for feudalism.