VOCE^

A beautiful baby

Born at 5:18 p.m. on 13 July 2007 at in Lebanon

8 lbs, 5 ozs (3760 grams), healthy lungs, and a full head of dark hair!

Mama & baby are well. Daddy is sobbing with joy.

They'd said they were gonna name her Simone if it was a girl. No official confirmation of that yet...

M.
Now in the spirit of guest bloggers. Here's another post from our long-lost friend, Jake. He is now an English teacher, surfer and lover of life living with his wife Kumi on the Japanese island of Kyushu.


I am just waking up. 3:30 in the afternoon. I am under self-imposed house arrest this weekend as a result of a friend's birthday party last weekend. Drunken Canadians who morphed, flicked a switch, after much high-end tequila. The tequila was smooth like water and my normally mild-mannered Japanified friends turned, in an instant, from sentimental blathering towards violence. They sourced some animal instinct deeply buried in their Canadian reasonableness. A folding wooden chair and, indirectly, myself were the victims. The chair deserved it. It was an extremely ergonomically-unfriendly chair which had long doled out punishment indiscriminately to healthy and unhealthy backs alike. Around 6am the birthday boy raised the chair and declared that its time on earth was up, that the evil must be curtailed. Then he and the other friend descended upon it. Flurries of Karate chops accompanied by Bruce Lee shrieks were unleashed. Ripping, tearing, snarling. Splinters were everywhere. Feats of strength were on display as pieces were held by one to be punched in two by the other. This was mostly unsuccessful. Knuckles on lacquered pressboard elicited my muttering from the couch that someone was going to get hurt, a precognitive foreshadowing to subsequent events. I was not drunk, have become a slow but steady sipper. Always, but not always enough, I seem to honor (honor) my dominant, giganticized self-preservation gene. I even had my hands up to protect my eyes from possible pieces of flying chair. Selfishly (an important component of self-preservation) I declared my opposition to the events and sat back to enjoy the violence like I was now legally cleared. I detached myself from the well-being of my friends. Already an, "I told you so," was formed on my lips ready to address the broken knuckle. It was this disloyalty, I believe, this easy distancing from the suffering of others, that was later punished. Worse still, if I can be completely honest, I probably even welcomed the injury of my friends as it would both give me the simple satisfaction of properly predicting outcome and elevate me through the contrast of my non-injured state (Vinnie once mentioned a sermon at N.A. about the evils of gossiping and how the misguided so easily derive pleasure from the misfortunes of others as if the world were graded on one gigantic bell-curve.) This last feeling/thought was very fleeting and faint but I recognized it and in the spirit of disclosure with which this vignette is being recounted I felt obliged to include it, despite the odious light(waft?) which it sheds on me.

I forced myself into another paragraph. In for a penny....

When one particularly resilient piece of chair refused to be snapped I made the mistake of crawling out my protective voyeur's shell and offered my advice on how to defeat the chair leg. My friends pounced on this opening. "Go ahead," they coaxed. As I mentioned I was lucid. I was calm. I had no ill-will towards this chair even though I had many times played the 'M' to its 'S'. "Lean it against the wall and snap it like you would kindling," I had said. They thought a side-kick was too easy, denigrated its lack of machismo but then with perfectly honed powers of persuasion gave in and allowed this lower form of destruction. I was ambivalent as I rose from the couch. Really, I wanted no part, and as I climbed out the window onto the roof and propped the chair leg against the concrete wall I thrice deferred, citing that my role was simply that of the conseillier. So subtle and gentle was the 'egging on' that it flew beneath my radar. I flashed back to other times with different friends where I had refused to wrestle or break things because of a weak back and how for years afterwards comments would be directed towards me about my lack of masculinity and general poofiness. Yes machismo can be well-disguised in today's meterosexual but that effeteness is sometimes shed in the dead of night, under the influence of the firewater and then the code is revealed intact. Who can break more and bigger things and who can pin who is stored away, well-remembered by all present and a very important ranking is tacitly agreed upon.

Paragraphs are no obstacle now. The other-worldliness of non-decision leading to action happens in slow motion. The choice is there up to the last moment when arms and leg are cocked, video camera is rolling and the patient silence of the witnesses is welcoming. Then in amateur form with eyes looking ahead and away and not at the target, the action is initiated and the heel bounces off the chair leg. Very quickly an excuse is muttered at the same time the actor stoops to reset the lacquered wood. The second kick with eyes on the target is effortless and the arch of the foot passes easily through chair leg without resistance. The chair leg is in two pieces. The ranking is established. The evening can continue in camaraderie. Except where once there was none, now there is a dull ache. The right knee doesn't hurt but is announcing its presence where before it was unnecessary. What lingers from a perfectly fun night of music, tequila and a rooftop sunrise is the injury, the idiocy of non-decisive action, a tensor bandage, a limp, and a darkened mood--a result of limited mobility and pessimistic prognosticating. No real pain but a perceived weakness and a subsequent coddling. The trifecta is complete--back, throat and now knee, the first two arbitrarily awarded but the last 100% self-inflicted. Of course I'm blowing this all way out of proportion as I'm just a few days into my convalescence and the internet says 2-4 weeks. I am still very optimistic that soon I can return to the pleasures of surfing, golfing and leaving late and walking fast. But for now if life had a remote I would be hitting the fast-forward button.
There goes an asshole
I like this video of a guy stealing a bike. I mean, I liked the music. As a fellow cyclist, my heart goes out to the wheel-less biker.

As for the other guy. Asshole.


A crap car

As an added bonus, this excerpt from the excellent book, Crap Cars. One of the few books that has made me laugh so hard I cried.

GM

Every so often GM stops being lazy and predictable and actually tries hard to do something different. Unfortunately this is normally a guarantee of an epic mistake on the horizon. Bingo! The EV1, GM's honest attempt to make the world's first electric car. Designed to appeal to the world's first car buyers who only ever wanted to go a few miles from their house. And just so your neighbors knew you were doing your bit to save the planet, they gave it a distinctive body that looked like a snake trapped under a rock.

IF THIS CAR WAS ... BLESSED WITH ANY LESS RANGE, THEY MIGHT AS WELL HAVE LEFT IT PLUGGED IN.

Why "Who Killed the Electic Car "should have been killed
So I watched "Who Killed the Electric Car" a few months back and thought it was interesting, but flawed. I didn't buy the corporate bogeyman theories, and I didn't think it paid any attention to the most important question: Are electric cars really better for the environment?

As a dense city, bicycle commuter who drives a gas guzzler (and a Subaru -- 2 cars, dammit!) I believe our car-centric world is not sustainable and convenient, but really not that nice. I think the car isolates us from the world and gives us a false sense of reality. Like Styrofoam meat packing. Convenient, but wrong, wrong wrong.

I thought the film did a good job in exposing the pathetic weakness of the California Air Resource Board in caving to corporate lobbying, but film and video isn't really a great medium for telling a complex story.

That's why we have blogs.

And to explain why the film was actually a complete travesty is a guest blogger, who we shall call DD. (not sure if he wants me to use his name) His comments on the hypocrisy of California, pumping its air problems out of state while claiming the moral high ground are particularly apt.

Anyhow, the rest of this post is his and is reprinted here with permission. It is not licensed under the creative commons license that governs the rest of this site.



Who Killed the Electric Car: a Review

Apparently the producers of this film don’t realize that products are developed all the time, in every industry, then subsequently killed for reasons no more nefarious than: – it didn’t make sense and won’t make money. It doesn’t take a conspiracy to kill a product that has fatal flaws revealed during test marketing. Junior employees like Chelsea Sexton of GM, however, become invested in the product and won’t let it go after the axe has fallen.

There is a reasonableness test on conspiracy theory that could have been but was not pursued, in this movie, by interviewing an executive from any other car company. How come nobody else brought an EV to market, anywhere in the world, at this time, if it was such a good idea? Does the evil empire have enough reach to kill products in every lab in America, Europe and Japan? If EV’s took over the world would energy companies lose their market? None of that computes. Electricity is the most refined form of energy we use and is largely derived from fossil fuels like oil, coal and natural gas and ends up with a hefty price premium over those fuels.

The crucial question about the EV-1, which gets 45 seconds in this movie and never gets answered, is: where is the electricity coming from and what is the efficiency of the process? Los Angeles’s electricity is supplied by LADWP http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_Angeles_Department_of_Water_and_Power , which generates 70% of its power from fossil fuels, including coal-fired plants in the Great Basin. Moving energy from Great Basin coal mines is a complex and inefficient process resulting in 4-5 calories of energy burned in Utah for every 1 calorie delivered on the road in LA.

This is pollution exported through the long tailpipe. This is solipsist Hollywood operating unhampered by the facts or the consequences. They would reduce smog in the LA Basin by sending it to the rest of the world. The sound bites of fatuous “environment savers” should be juxtaposed against shots of smokestacks and strip mines. The EV-1 only made sense if you ignored the out of state pollution and got someone to subsidize the losses.

The California Air Resource Board (CARB) is a major player in this movie but do they worry about exported pollution? You guessed it. There are no emission controls, imposed by CARB on LADWP for its coal burning operations in Utah or anywhere beyond the state line. Subsidizing the losses was attempted by the CARB zero emissions mandate which would have forced GM, and others, to meet EV sales volumes whether or not cost exceeded price. This was an excursion into state imposed quotas reminiscent of California’s Earthquake Insurance mandate of 1991 which stopped the writing of new hazard policies and caused endless grief for the citizens until it was repealed. GM’s mistakes were to develop an EV rather than a hybrid and to do it in California which abounds in feckless bureaucrats who are prone to dictate product decisions and sales quotas while ignoring global consequences. In this environment crushing and shredding the cars was preferable to throwing good money after bad.

On the positive side this movie does spend a few moments discussing hybrid cars – a technology that makes sense and is gaining traction with consumers. There are dozens of hybrids, EV’s and combo products under development in labs around the world and many will emerge from the Darwinian stew to succeed in the market and make environmental contributions without state mandates.

Demonizing the usual suspects is a guaranteed formula for Hollywood documentarians who are, after all, in the business of manufacturing outrage. This movie makes the attempt but overlooks the key issues: exporting pollution across state lines, feckless bureaucrats spooking the innovators and a product that didn’t make sense when viewed outside the tunnel vision of the moviemaker. Directors like Chris Paine and actors like Martin Sheen should stick to car chases and leave auto engineering to the professionals. Having such ready access to Ralph Nader, however, they could do “Who killed the 2000 Election”.
posted by Bob at 10:46 PM Comments (3)
Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Reason #1 the iPhone will be a flop
I just read this on PR Newswire.

David Clayman is 3rd in Line for iPhone That He Will Auction to Support the Taproot Foundation
NEW YORK, June 26 /PRNewswire/ -- David Clayman, a recent graduate of the University of Chicago, is the third person in line to buy an iPhone at Apple's flagship store on 5th Avenue. He plans to auction off the iPhone to support the Taproot Foundation, a nonprofit organization. The much anticipated phone goes on sale this Friday at Apple stores across the country.

Clayman reports on his blog that he recently graduated from the University of Chicago and starts his first job on July 2nd as an SAP Business Intelligence Consultant for INFORTE -- Chicago. You can follow his adventures this week on his blog, "The iPhone Adventure" at:


Another proud McMillan first
My first-ever use of the term "barnyard masturbator" in a story. Actually, if you want to get technical, the term should have been barnyard fluffer, but who's gonna argue with Popular Science.

What do whale-feces researchers, hazmat divers, and employees of Microsoft's Security Response Center have in common? They all made Popular Science magazine's 2007 list of the absolute worst jobs in science.

Popular Science has been compiling the list since 2003, as "a way to celebrate the crazy variety of jobs that there are in science," said Michael Moyer, the magazine's executive editor. Past entrants have included barnyard masturbator, Kansas biology teacher, and U.S. Metric system advocate.

The 2003 list is the funniest.

David Raymond's engagement party
We did it. We got out of the house, without the kids. Oh what a majestic, soaring experience. To be amongst adults in Pacific Heights on a (kind of) warm summer's eve in San Francisco. It was so cool to catch up with our old friends amongst the Dave Raymond set and to meet his bride to be.

A lovely time.
Thanks


The happy coupleS


Dave with the most beautiful girl at the party



Two more hotties, Cass & Jen.



Thanks for the help, officer
You know what would bother me even more than if I was in a wheelchair at a gas station and the handles somehow got lodged in the font grill of an 18-wheeler and then, scared of being run over, I somehow got taken on a four mile ride on the freeway at 50 miles an hour? You know what would be worse?

If the cops who were supposed to be serving and protecting me took a bloody photo of me, still stuck to the truck, and then plastered it all over the Internet (check out photo credit here).


"The man spilled his soda pop, but he wasn't upset," said Sgt. Kathy Morton of the Michigan State Police.
2007

The Easter Bunny Hates You
GG and Clara Mae had a wonderful Easter Sunday in Dolores Park this week. Bunny bowling, face painting, Ethel Merman impersonator singing AC/DC covers. It reminded me of how great it is to live in San Francisco, and why I love this town. Something that I've been forgetting lately. Easter Bunny was there too. He looked like this one, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't the same bunny. (Thanks to Doug for the link)

Islay (pronounced eye-lah) has a blog
Lookout Gigi, you've got some competition on Filbert. Check it out.
posted by Bob at 2:49 PM Comments (5)
Nightstand
The Sportswriter

Stories I've written


Retailers gang up against bands of thieves - InfoWorld
Microsoft, Ask.com pressure Google on privacy - InfoWorld
Texas state Web site leaks sensitive information - InfoWorld
Ask.com to let users scrub search records - Macworld
Mozilla flaw attack code published - InfoWorld
Bloggers:
Naan McGarrigle
Islay
G.G.
Songs to No One
Hill 'er up!
Queenshiv
Emma B.
BloGG
Vinnie-style
Gregory
Robo-Monkey
MacGlob
One High Jack
It Girl
Karaab
A bug's life

Other blogs I like
David Byrne's Journal
Boingboing
Malcolm Gladwell
Beat the Press
The Best Page in the Universe

Further Amusement:
Quitters, Inc.
MacDougall
CAPGAS
Ouchy
Pounie
Burn
Rufus
K&A
Globality Noah


Retired

Nick's Blog Bucket

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