Last night my son saw some books on a shelf that he hadn't looked at yet.  So I took down volume one of USAAF Fighters of World War Two.  I didn't try to read it to him, but they have lots and lots of pictures that completely fascinated him.  We came across one plane that was fitted with pontoons, which I explained to him.  I told him that meant it could go on land or water.  "Then it's a amphibian airplane?" he said.  He was mighty proud of himself for figuring that out.

He kept asking to see his favorite, so I had to get down volume two to see "the one with the shark face on it."


Makes me nostalgic for the old days when I spent untold hours playing Aces of the Pacific and Aces Over Europe.  Sometimes I want to hunt down an old native DOS machine just so I can play Aces again.  I tried running it in DOXBox once, but it didn't work.  I couldn't get any sound.

I also had the AotP 1946 add-on.  The 1946 disk had the game continue under the premise that the two atomic bombs were never used, and Japan had to be invaded conventionally.  It had several new planes in it that were still under development when the war ended, and so never saw combat during WWII.  Some of them were still around during the Korean War, though.  There were a few extremely powerful kamikaze interceptors that I really liked.  I also tinkered with some of the settings just for fun.  Like I changed the P-51 so that instead of being armed with six 50-cal machine guns, it was armed with two 50-cals and two 20mm cannon.

Right at the very end of the 1946 campaign you got to fly a P-80 Shooting Star, but I never could get used to it.  It just moved too fast.

I think my favorite plane from the game was the P-38 Lightning.  I always seemed to be much more effective in it than in any of the others.  But then I also really liked the P47 Thunderbolt.

The good old days, when my biggest decision was if I should play Aces or Doom.  Sigh...

Shooter at parallax adjustment has posted an exercise described as, "tell why someone should let you into their survival retreat. Be sure to list any and all applicable skill sets, equipment carried (100 pounds or less), and any injury, allergy, illness, etc. that would make you a liability to the camp."

I have never considered myself as being especially skilled in such matters.  But this is something I've been thinking about since I read his post a few days ago, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

Like Shooter, I am an amateur radio operator so I have some skills in that area.  My license is of the old (now deleted) Advanced Class.  So I have knowledge of Morse Code as well, and though it is somewhat rusty right now I'm confident that it would come back very quickly if I started using it again.  I think that Code skill would be important.  When conditions are poor, code communications can get through when voice can't.  There are some other more sophisticated digital communications that can also get through during poor conditions, but they are mostly computer-based and computers require additional electricity and maintenance.  I can also build serviceable wire antennas from scratch, and I know how to scrounge up a makeshift code key if required.  I have equipment that would allow me to get on the air in several different modes, and of course I already have a code key.

Hunting/fishing.  Yep.  I also have bow hunting equipment although I have never used it for anything other than targets.  I used to be a very good tracker, although that's another thing I haven't had to do in a long time so I might be a little rusty.  I also know a thing or two about trapping.

Shooter says, "Give me a blade and I can sharpen it."  I guess it betrays some of my naiveté in that I thought this was something everyone can do, but maybe not.  I do vaguely remember my dad teaching me how to sharpen a knife, but I was so young that I don't remember exactly when.

I have some basic knowledge of electronics and am quite handy with a soldering tool.

I've also been wondering if people who could teach something, or people who just know a lot about something, would be worthwhile.  Will people eventually want anything beyond basic survival, or is this going too far?  I know that I could teach basic music theory including composition in four-part harmony.  Like I said, I know this isn't necessary for survival, and am just wondering if it's something that might still be considered valuable anyway.  You know, "for the children."

Would there be anyone who might want to hold worship services?  I have many old gospel hymns memorized, or nearly so, and I know that I could reconstruct the harmony on paper for numerous old songs if I needed to.

Besides, I think I could find room in my stash for at least one hymnal.

By the way, I've been wanting to write up some posts of the subject of hymns and hymnals, but so far all I've been doing is try to figure out how to start on it.  I'm sure that most readers of this blog wouldn't really be all that interested in it, anyway.

Via Say Uncle I found Foxit, which is a pdf reader.  I have always disliked how Adobe Reader bogged down my machine (Uncle called it "bloatware").  So now I have been able to get rid of that beached whale of a program and use Foxit.  It's way faster, and way smaller.  Unfortunately, it doesn't look like there's a Firefox plug-in for it yet, so as far as I can tell it can't be used to display a pdf within the browser.  I never do this anyway, because it always bogged down Firefox for so long that I've always just downloaded the pdf and then displayed it outside of Firefox.

The other one I recently found is called MWSnap.  This one is for taking screen captures, and can save in a variety of formats including bmp and png.  Much better than the old one I was using that saved only in an extremely lossy jpg.

Both are freeware.

Something, er...interesting at Damn Interesting: 

The strikingly realistic robot has since been met largely with wonder and admiration, which could mark success for Ishiguro in more ways than the obvious. Although Ishiguro's earlier android projects were only a little less realistic, they tended to disturb viewers. This is consistent with a 1970 hypothesis by Dr. Masahiro Mori, another Japanese roboticist. Although not yet well-investigated by science, Mori's "Uncanny Valley" theory holds that as a simulation of a human being's appearance and/or motion becomes increasingly accurate, there is very suddenly a point at which humans' interest in the creation turns into utter repulsion.

Ishiguro was inspired to develop a mechanical double after becoming tired of his long commute from the little town of Keihanna to a teaching position at Osaka University. He sees the android double as an improvement on videoconferencing, allowing not just the speaker's image and voice to be transmitted but also his or her presence. In stark contrast with the Western fear that androids could become strong enough to overpower human beings, the Japanese forsee a future in which humans and androids work together amicably and productively.

However, the Uncanny Valley effect may prove to be an impediment to human-android interactions as androids come to resemble humans more and more closely. It's an issue that Ishiguro wants to help resolve. One of his early robots was based on casts of his four-year-old daughter. It was capable of only basic movements, and thus was not quite lifelike. Ishiguro's daughter was so terrified by it that she refused to set foot in Ishiguro's lab after seeing it. Later on, Ishiguro made a robot copy of newscaster Ayako Fujii; despite being equipped with a much more intricate system of motion, it was still described as "creepy". Ishiguro's double is even more of an improvement, and most observers have been amazed and intrigued rather than unnerved. This may indicate that he has found the level of detail necessary to cross the Valley.

I remember this concept being explored in a Doctor Who adventure from the 70s (the Tom Baker era).  And back then the "robots" in the story didn't look human at all, except in the most general sense.  But then, they didn't have the budget or the technology to do anything better, I suppose.I'm pretty sure I would find androids to be "creepy," at least.  Because I don't even like ventriloquist dummies.

Follow the link above for some "creepy" androids.

Now if they come up with something that looks like this:


I might be more interested and less creepified.  Yes, interested.  That's the word.

I watched this show for the first time yesterday.  He was spending a week in the desert in Arizona.  I thought it was somewhat informative.  Somewhat.  The parts that especially interested me were all the stuff he found to eat.  I was almost ready to try roasting some grasshoppers.  And I certainly will try some mesquite beans the next time I come across some nice fresh green ones.  But someone needs to clue him in on a few things.

1.  Javelinas absolutely do not under any normal circumstances attack humans on sight.  Like many wild animals, they will attempt to defend themselves if cornered and/or provoked.  Climbing a tree and speaking in hushed tones to avoid being attacked by one poor little javelina was just stupid.

2.  Javelinas are not "a kind of wild boar."  They are only very distantly related to pigs and cannot even interbreed with pigs.

3.  The word is "javelina," with an "a" on the end that is pronounced (but at least he got the "j" right).  It's not pronounced "haveleen."  But what can you expect from a guy who says "sahntimeter."

Well, there are a lot of things, mostly having to do with how people treat other people.  But this is about how people treat some animals.

Now, I realize that parts of San Antonio have varmint problems.  Squirrels are everywhere, Olmos Park is completely overrun with raccoons, and then there's possums and skunks.  I've seen coyotes up in the northwest off Tezel Road..  I understand the need to control these critters.  Furthermore, I have nothing against trapping as a means of control.  Heck, when I was younger I made lots of money from trapping fur-bearing varmints and taking the pelts to the furrier who came to town every other Friday during fur season.

People like to use cage traps because, I guess, they think steel traps are inhumane.  Maybe they are.  Something else that's inhumane is leaving an animal in a cage trap until it dies of dehydration.  I guess people are too wimpy to dispose of a pest swiftly and humanely, so they just leave it in the trap until it dies, and then throw it in the trash.  Disgusting.  Have the 'nads to finish it off so it doesn't suffer through three or four days of ravenous thirst before it finally dies.

One other thing:  when I find a trapped animal in someone's backyard, I release it.  Those animals are not caught during the daytime (except for squirrels).  They are nocturnal and are trapped during the night.  If you have traps set, you check them first thing in the morning and dispatch any varmint that was caught.  Check them before you leave for work, before you take your morning shower.  Turn on the coffee pot and go check the trap.  Finish that poor beast off so it doesn't have to suffer.  You don't leave them in there until you think they're dead enough to throw out four or five days later.

I have found far too many animals dead in an allegedly "humane" cage trap.  Including squirrels.  That's why I release them.  If you don't have the guts to take care of them quickly, leave them alone.

Also, if you are going to set a steel trap, a word advice.  You aren't going to catch anything with a steel trap set in the wide open, on top of the ground, without any bait in sight.  The 'coons are just going sit on your fence and laugh at you all night long.  All you're going to do is piss off the meter reader when he climbs down off your fence and nearly steps in it.  And you're liable to discover that your steel trap has mysteriously been sprung and hung from a rafter on your back porch.

Cartoon Network is going to start showing the run of the Trinity Blood anime again starting tonight.  That is all.

Well.

One house I went to today was really remarkable.  And by "remarkable" I mean "if I was as explicit as I want to be, some of you would quit reading this blog because you didn't think I used language like that."

The small driveway and small front yard were both filled with potted plants.  Everywhere.  Sitting on the ground, hanging from the trees, hanging from the rafters, sitting on the porch.  I could barely find the front door, and when I did find it, it was standing wide open.  There was no gate into the back yard.  I rang the bell and did a very fast backing retreat because the sound of the bell brought me sound of more than one large dog going into full freak-out mode.  Out came this little old man, although I don't suppose he was especially old.  Fiftyish, sixtyish, who knows.  "I've been expecting you," he said.  My first thought was, "Jeez, what a flamer."

He had to let me through his garage, then into his house, into the back yard.  He opened his garage and I was overwhelmed with animal smell.  His garage was jammed with several cages holding about a dozen enormous parrots, the air filled with their stench.  Holy...I thought.  I kept one hand on my Nextel, so I could at least scream the address to someone so they'd know where to find my remains.

Inside his house he kept a Chihuahua and three enormous poodles.  Not the rinky-dink poodles that everyone makes fun of, but the big ones that make Great Danes look like wimps.  I have run into several of this kind of dog in the past few years and not one of them was friendly.  The smell inside his house made his garage seem like an alpine meadow.  He somehow managed to corral them into his living room so I could get through.  His tiny back yard was another maze of potted plants, with a narrow passage between them and an ancient pool filled with what I estimated was probably about a 50 hit dice green slime.  I read his meters, and as I teetered along the brink back to his house, something moved in the pool.  I tried not to look at it too closely.  The Chihuahua kept running under my feet so I had to keep from tripping over it and falling into something.  He had built a wall inside the original wooden fence of his property.  I couldn't tell exactly what the wall was made from, but it was about 10 feet high and could not be seen through.  His big dogs were still in freak-out mode, and he kept telling them "Oh, now you behave" with a mincing tone, like he was talking to some kids who he was afraid would eat with their fingers while company was over.

Since I'm writing this, it's obvious that I made it back out unscathed.  Someday he'll probably turn up on the news, having been found dead, buried under a pile of his garbage with his starving dogs eating what's left of him.  Man, I just don't get some people.

The dogs woke me up at 12:30 this morning, not with an all-out "intruder alert!" bark, but more of a "we found something we've never seen before and it's probably not dangerous but we thought we should wake you up in the middle of the night and let you know about it anyway" bark.  A peek out the window revealed that they had something on the ground, but they weren't excited enough for it to be a snake.  It was a little cool for night-time snakes anyway.

I went outside to check, and in the bluish lambency of the security light, could see nothing special.  It was probably just some large flightless bug, lost in the shadows of the miniature sand dunes of the driveway.  I sifted the sand a couple of times with a rake, anyway, just to show them I was paying attention.  They were content with that, and went back to sleep.


But it reminded me that it's getting to be that time of year when I might ought to keep one of the .22s on standby loaded up with my favorite shotshells.  Because who wants to work up a sweat whacking a snake* with rake at 12:30 in the morning when you can just whack him with some #12 shot and go back to sleep?

*My generic use of "snake" refers specifically to the copperhead.  If it's any other snake I'll specify.  And if it's non-venomous, I'll try to shoo the dogs off and let it be.  I'm especially partial to king snakes and bull snakes.

We picked beans at my dad's house today, and got several pounds.  Then we took a look at the deer.  The first doe has fawned twin does!  We got to see a fawn up close, and that was pretty cool.  By this time next month the other five does should have fawned.

During the week there probably won't be much going on here.  I might post a couple of pictures or something.

Getting all caught up this weekend since I have nothing better to do, and I finally noticed that the National Hurricane Center's newsfeed has become active again.  And, while I wasn't paying attention, the first named storm has already come and gone.  It was Andrea.

Fodder prompted me to look myself up on the Wayback Machine.  My earlier websites never got archived for some reason, but the link is to some sites from 1999.  My first web page was on AOL in 1995.  We are probably fortunate that it is lost forever.

I was amazed at what was still there.  I created two Doom *.wads back when I was a Doomer, and they are still there!  Amazing.  It would have been really cool if all the images and backgrounds were preserved by Wayback, but I guess that would be too much to ask.  The home page had a background that I made by scanning some blue jeans with a hand scanner.  And I always thought my Doom page was especially artful.

I was really surprised by this find:


I remember submitting this to AOL's old user gallery, and it was rejected because it didn't show my entire face.  Yet, they happily publicized all those raunchy looking you-know-whos with no hesitation.

There's also this, which was sort of an early attempt at blogging before I had ever heard of or understood the phenomenon.  But then it was at least 10 years ago that I wrote those things, so I guess there wasn't really much blogging going on anywhere back then.

How exactly do you get a ringtone from a medium that has no audio?

Read this short piece by Crispin Sartwell:

The idea that opposition to authority is a psychological disorder is one that would, of course, only occur to authoritarians. And the claim that this resistance can be broken not by torture but by Seratonin Reuptake Inhibitors is one that would occur only to authoritarian psychologists. Today's Siberias and re-education camps are the professional suite and the treatment facility. And today's Patrick Henrys are no doubt busy composing their new slogans: "Give me liberty, or medicate me." This not only makes our schools more orderly, it stimulates the economy by shoveling all the world's cash in the direction of large drug manufacturers.

So that's it.  My daughter apparently has this disorder.  And all this time I thought her behavior was only because she is the most recent in a long line of people who:  left their home country because they didn't like being told what to do, avoided living in cities because they didn't like to be told what to do, gravitated toward jobs that mandated little supervision because they didn't like being told what to do, and had/have an almost pathological fear of having to rely on someone else for help, because they didn't like being told what to do.

My daughter drives me absolutely nuts sometimes.  Her independent streak is so fierce that she sometimes even scares me.  Her self will is so dominant that...well, I don't know how to keep going on this.  But at the same time that she is making me crazy, she makes me love and admire her more and more.  I both dread and anticipate the time when she grows up and is forced to deal with other people out in the "real world," if there is any such thing.

Someday her irresistible force will collide with the immovable object of the world and she is going to fully understand why her father could write the words:  Give me liberty, or kill me.

But until then, she will have my love, understanding and admiration and no one will ever temper her drive with drugs.  They will have to kill me first.

Link above via Kent's Hooligan Libertarian Blog.

Montebello, California:

A circus trapeze artist working without a net fell 40 feet to his death during a performance, authorities said.

Roberto Valenzuela, 35, of Brownsville, Texas, fell headfirst and died Monday night, said Sgt. Jacqueline Gonzalez of the Los Angeles County Police Department.

He was performing with Circo Hermanos Vazquez (Vazquez Brothers Circus.) The troupe had traveled from Mexico for the show at the Whittier Narrows Recreation Area, Gonzalez said.

County firefighters happened to be at the show to monitor the act following Valenzuela's, which involved fire, Gonzalez said.

The firefighters tried to help Valenzuela, but he died at the scene, she said. The sheriff's department was investigating.

On the one hand, he was probably an experienced trapeze artist (I would hope so, anyway), who thought he knew what he was doing.

On the other hand, I think the Darwin effect may have been at work here.