tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-129062992024-03-07T18:26:23.987-05:00This Old Bloglife, the universe, and everything (although not always in that order)Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.comBlogger1537125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-90329883081876900072016-01-09T21:18:00.002-05:002016-01-09T21:20:00.575-05:00how the florida gingersnaps came to be<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/23635567893/in/album-72157612379090570/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Ponder and Greebo."><img alt="Ponder and Greebo." class="aligncenter" height="500" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1677/23635567893_706387a7a5.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The Florida Gingersnaps are a reaction to the loss of my Lucy (whose photo still adorns the header of my blog) and Max <a href="http://arcanesciencelab.com/2015/06/15/i-bid-farewell-to-two-of-my-little-ones-today/"><b>back in June 2015</b></a> combined with coming across <b><a href="http://whatever.scalzi.com/2015/12/26/the-best-sportball-t-shirt-ever-made/">John Scalzi's Ohio Scamperbeasts</a></b> on his blog Whatever. John Scalzi had also lost two pets, both cats, and his new kittens, named Sugar and Spice, were replacements. A reasonable one-to-one replacement I might add.<br />
<br />
But why Gingersnaps? Because they're both gingers, and because gingersnaps were my daughter's favorite cookies back when they were little little characters themselves.<br />
<br />
When I first lost Lucy (the cat) I never intended to replace her with any other animal, especially not another cat. And that's the way it stayed until October, when my oldest daughter's newest cat (which she'd rescued) delivered a litter of five kittens; three female calicos and two ginger males. Mom, going by the name of Sunshine, is an all-ginger female. It's funny how genetics works, and how the two males came out looking like mom, but not the females.<br />
<br />
Once the kittens were born, a mad scramble ensued to try and place them all in new homes. The females were fairly easy, although one of them wound up being promised out twice when the first people decided they couldn't take a kitten. And that's fine; rather know about such issues well in advance rather than later. But no one stepped forward offering to adopt the males. As it got closer to when those guys needed to be weened and moved to their Forever Home, my resolve about not having another cat wavered and finally evaporated. How I managed to volunteer for the both of them I still haven't quite figured out...<br />
<br />
Male cats have a (perhaps unwarranted) reputation for being, well, males. Their biggest sin is wanting to spray their urine on everything to mark it, and the smell of that urine. So far, as kittens, neither male is doing any of that, and they're approaching three months of age. But it won't be long before they're fixed. So far both males have been very affectionate to each other as well as to me and my wife. When it comes to socialization I can't tell the difference between them and Lucy. One other characteristic they share with my Lucy is their purring. They are as loud as she was, and getting both of them going is something to hear. My only complaint about them is their over-abundance of energy, especially at 3am in the morning when I'm sound asleep. They wake up and bounce around the bedroom and off of me. After about 30 minutes they finally calm down and go back to sleep.<br />
<br />
The names Greebo and Ponder are from the Diskworld series written by <b><a href="http://www.terrypratchettbooks.com/">Terry Pratchett</a></b>. I believe I've read (and own) just about every book he published. His passing back on 12 March 2015 was keenly felt by me. I never met the man except through his writings, but I certainly appreciated his sharp wit and interesting prose. And it hit that I'd never see another book from him again.<br />
<br />
When the opportunity for the two males presented itself, I immediately knew what one of them would be named: <b><a href="http://wiki.lspace.org/mediawiki/Greebo">Greebo</a></b>. Greebo is an interesting cat. Greebo was Pratchett's attempt to put all the myths about cats into one creature. I've never come across a cat quite like Greebo in real life, but I've seen similar, singular, characteristics present themselves on occasion in other more domestic felines. And for the record, my Greebo is nothing like the one in the book. He's shy and when he comes up for rubs he's as sweet a cat as you could wish for. Just like his brother Ponder.<br />
<br />
Ponder is <b><a href="http://wiki.lspace.org/mediawiki/Ponder_Stibbons">Ponder Stibbons</a></b>, the youngest faculty member of Unseen University and the creator of UU's supercomputer Hex. A supercomputer that incorporates ants as part of its mechanism. It was the computer link that sealed the deal for the naming of Ponder.<br />
<br />
I can tell the difference between the two. Greebo has the darker markings.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/21459163033/in/album-72157612379090570/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="momma guarding"><img alt="momma guarding" class="aligncenter" height="281" src="https://farm1.staticflickr.com/593/21459163033_9da118bf19.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/21457439694/in/album-72157612379090570/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="where is my mom????"><img alt="where is my mom????" class="aligncenter" height="281" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5699/21457439694_ef30335ab5.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It's good to have the two kittens, just like it's good to have Annie the Doodle. Which reminds me, I need to write more about Ruby and Annie...Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-35876881355331720702016-01-09T21:17:00.000-05:002016-01-09T21:20:00.570-05:00florida gingersnaps, one week on<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/24154207832/in/dateposted-public/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Ponder and Greebo."><img alt="Ponder and Greebo." class="aligncenter" height="281" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1456/24154207832_b32f4a9909.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The Florida Gingersnaps, Greebo and Ponder, have not only managed to survive their transplant from Gainesville to Orlando, but are thriving, having put on at least a pound since coming to live at Casa Beebe. I've kept them in a single large bedroom with their own three-level cat tree, plenty of soft towels, toys, food and fresh water. I spend as much time with them as possible, sleeping with them every night. Or, I spend the night in the same room with them. The sleeping part is optional.<br />
<br />
At night they love to go zooming around the room, using me as a trampoline as they bounce from the floor to the bed, onto me, to the bedside table, the dresser, then over to the cat tree, then down to the floor and under the furniture, then back up onto the bed. When they get tired they snuggle up next to me to get their second and third wind, then start it all up again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/23635574033/in/dateposted-public/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Ponder's pondering."><img alt="Ponder's pondering." class="aligncenter" height="500" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1545/23635574033_bdbe6c606c.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/23635567893/in/dateposted-public/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Ponder and Greebo."><img alt="Ponder and Greebo." class="aligncenter" height="500" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1677/23635567893_706387a7a5.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Starting this weekend we begin to introduce the Gingersnaps to the rest of the four-footed household. I have a very large cat cage on coasters that I can roll around the house with them inside. It has three interior levels with ramps so that they can move around. This weekend will prove to be interesting.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-4313161531963007062016-01-03T07:39:00.002-05:002016-01-03T07:39:18.928-05:00we're all a little less shy now, especially greebo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/24112770786/in/dateposted-public/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="greebo stands guard over ponder"><img alt="greebo stands guard over ponder" class="aligncenter" height="375" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1696/24112770786_cf94bcda8e.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Twenty-four hours after the Gingersnaps officially arrived, they're both coming out together. Greebo in particular is no longer moving around the room underneath the furniture. When I went to bed last night both he (looking) and Ponder (sound asleep) were up, together, cuddled together in a corner of the bed. For the curious that's Lucy's old blanket in the background... When I finally, carefully, sacked out then Greebo went to sleep as well.<br />
<br />
It would have been a sound sleep except that sometime around 3am I was awakened to small scampering feet across the top of the blankets and me. Then at 5am Ponder started his burrowing under the blankets trick again while Geebo stayed on top to pounce him, in their version of the bed mice game.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-29049902053776638922016-01-02T07:46:00.001-05:002016-01-09T21:20:00.565-05:00first night for the gingersnaps<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/24015740712/in/dateposted-public/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="ponder sleeping his first night."><img alt="ponder sleeping his first night." class="aligncenter" height="500" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1540/24015740712_7aedc909b7.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ponder discovers a pillow</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The first night has passed and the two have managed to survive, in spite of what their tiny hearts might have thought when first arriving. Greebo, the larger of the two, has been in hiding the entire time so far. Ponder has spent the time zipping in and out of hiding spots, checking things out, and learning just how comfortable pillows are for resting your head.<br />
<br />
During the night I felt the tiny body of Ponder hitting the bed as he leaped up on the side, and then climbed to the top to run around on top of me. At least once he play-attacked my fingers. He might be small but his claws are still quite sharp.<br />
<br />
When I got up in the morning the bowl of cat kitten food was fairly well depleted. It's been refilled and fresh water put in the big dish on the floor. I'm assuming that both Greebo and Ponder are feeding and drinking. I have seen Greebo under the furniture peeking out at me when I went looking for him. I'm leaving him alone while he continues to adjust.<br />
<br />
So far the guys have not wanted to stray out of the back bedroom, which is fine by me. I'd hate to have to go find a Greebo hiding place in the much larger house.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-78513816404520197532016-01-01T21:27:00.003-05:002016-01-01T21:27:40.434-05:00the florida gingersnaps arrive<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/23485686834/in/dateposted-public/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="greebo"><img alt="greebo" height="375" src="https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1519/23485686834_22ed569d4b.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greebo Ogg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/23746143959/in/dateposted-public/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="ponder"><img alt="ponder" height="500" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5639/23746143959_d0d1538346.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ponder Stibbons</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The kittens have arrived. Their visage is a bit formal in these photos, having just entered their new forever house and being gently deposited onto their cat tree. I can tell them apart because Greebo is the darker of the two while Ponder is the smaller. I can also tell them apart by their distinctive behaviors; Greebo wants to hide while Ponder walks right up to me, nuzzles playfully into my side, and purrs like a motorboat. Ponder's behavior is just like Lucy's. Greebo is shy, so I'm going to give him his space while he and I get to know one another a bit better. Both are as sweet and gentle as any two cats I've ever known.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-71730815292032982152015-04-25T03:03:00.002-04:002015-04-25T03:03:59.454-04:00a milestone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnlroWx6zqkEraiWX8TRqT8ixz6uFyHz2U4YwlYmInn0YrPXu-YtLBdUdJNnM62sIoXJdKCITZ_UvQPR2zzLq2mGzMjxPt1yWGbrZhCRT4tHg70AwWPsLoalbJVIPzAjBJM1Om/s1600/Stonehenge2007_07_30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnlroWx6zqkEraiWX8TRqT8ixz6uFyHz2U4YwlYmInn0YrPXu-YtLBdUdJNnM62sIoXJdKCITZ_UvQPR2zzLq2mGzMjxPt1yWGbrZhCRT4tHg70AwWPsLoalbJVIPzAjBJM1Om/s400/Stonehenge2007_07_30.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
This blog is now ten years old. A full decade. The first post has an official date of 8 May 2005, but I know that it's actually earlier than that. That's because when I first got into this blogging thing with Blogger, I was fooling around with some of the Blogger settings and managed to wipe out the original blog along with about a half dozen posts. Fortunately for me I still had all that content in a cache and thus reposted it all a second time. So when folks ask how old This Old Blog is (a.k.a. BlogBeebe) I just say a decade and then move on.<br />
<br />
Some folks, like Kirk Tuck, look at a lot of posts over a long period of time and announce that they're trimming the posts back a bit because they're old and as a consequence they're a burden on moving forward. I look at This Old Blog as a living historical document that shows my attitudes and the times they were shaped in over the last 10 or so years. Are some (many to be honest) of them embarrassing? Obsolete? Sure. But that's due to the passing of time.<br />
<br />
In a way, to understand me is to understand my blog.<br />
<br />
The biggest problem with old posts is unfortunately stale links to referenced articles and photos. You can tell because there's just a lot of text and within the text references to images, especially screen shots. Clicking on old links takes you to empty pages. Oh well. That in itself is illustrative of the impermanence and overall fragility of the web. Many of those missing images were hosted in server space on my even earlier website at Geocities. Remember Geocities? I did that because in the very early days of Blogger, Blogger downsampled all images and they looked like crap. So I moved them off to my Geocities account and added a link in my Blogger posts back to them. But then Yahoo closed down Geocities and all those screen shots just went away. I backed up the Geocities site with the idea of rehosting and relinking, but I never did get around to that, and that's that. Oh well...<br />
<br />
No, the blog exists as is, with only one deletion out of thousands of posts (read the post right before this one). This blog stands as a living monument to my past ten years living in this part of the internet, however incomplete that may seem to you. In a way it's living up to what a web log was originally meant to do, and that's be a digital recording of life about the world on the web. It's incomplete and certainly imperfect, a reflection of life itself.<br />
<br />
Hail to This Old Blog. May the next 10 years be as interesting as the last.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-82175836529129120672015-04-25T01:56:00.001-04:002015-04-25T02:05:33.732-04:00still over the line<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_KYcn8cJAsFCVVc65i899kWPBKoc4RRHVDHzzKTFLOfAyxmZCs2eXxEYTj7nVVqrw2AiP0Z9hsQKaq_3iFILhP5yX90_FJkxNkFIsLxRiNnrj1r-1DdNQ8gX_lr284LZLy6qP/s1600/over_the_line_walter_lebowski_skiffleboom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_KYcn8cJAsFCVVc65i899kWPBKoc4RRHVDHzzKTFLOfAyxmZCs2eXxEYTj7nVVqrw2AiP0Z9hsQKaq_3iFILhP5yX90_FJkxNkFIsLxRiNnrj1r-1DdNQ8gX_lr284LZLy6qP/s1600/over_the_line_walter_lebowski_skiffleboom.jpg" height="500" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Not sure why, but a few a-hole sites out of Russia decided to ping my original post about referrer spam. So I removed the original post from back in late November 2013, right before I stopped posting to this blog for a good long year in 2014. I've waited about a week to see if the numbers would drop, and sure enough they did. A lot. Now that they're gone I decided to put it back up, more or less, with updates.<br />
<br />
And while I'm at it I decided to freshen up the content a bit, with a Youtube clip from where the lead photo came from.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jw6_f5gci28" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Referrer Spam</span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">What Is It?</span></b><br />
<br />
Referrer spam (also known as log spam or referrer bombing) is a kind of spamdexing (spamming aimed at search engines). The technique involves making repeated web site requests using a fake referer URL to the site the spammer wishes to advertise. Sites that publish their access logs, including referer statistics, will then inadvertently link back to the spammer's site. These links will be indexed by search engines as they crawl the access logs.<br />
<br />
This benefits the spammer because the free link improves the spammer site's search engine ranking owing to link-counting algorithms that search engines use.<br />
<br />
From <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Referer_spam">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Referer_spam</a><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">What Can I Do To Combat It?</span></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://blog.analytics-toolkit.com/2015/guide-referrer-spam-google-analytics/"><b>Guide to Removing Referrer Spam in Google Analytics</b></a><br />
<br />
More Google search results: <a href="https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=referrer+spam+google+analytics">https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=referrer+spam+google+analytics</a><br />
<br />
So go ahead my fine Russian friends, refer away. I don't publish any of those statistics. Watch more from The Dude (Nobody Fucks With The Jesus):<br />
<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GZR58d77a4A" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-3528305928293771142015-02-16T23:52:00.000-05:002015-02-16T23:52:21.108-05:00that didn't last long<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/16555505602" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="gas prices 16 feb 2015 by Bill Beebe, on Flickr"><img alt="gas prices 16 feb 2015" height="480" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7343/16555505602_a2f539b8ce_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Two weeks ago gas was $1.91 at this gas station. Today when I filled up the price was back up 37¢. Even diesel hasn't risen this much, only 15¢ during the same period. Yeah, those speculator-driven free markets are so wonderful.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-6878385881630266712015-02-01T23:15:00.001-05:002015-02-02T19:25:52.179-05:00the sudden collapse of gasoline prices<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/16423961605" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="gas price 30 january 2015 by Bill Beebe, on Flickr"><img alt="gas price 30 january 2015" height="600" src="https://farm9.staticflickr.com/8666/16423961605_c7c794f686_z.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<br />
On Friday 30 January I stopped by a local Orlando BP gas station (rather rare these days) and filled up my 2012 Prius with $1.91/gallon gas. Spending nearly $2/gallon is still a lot of money to pay for gas, coming of age as I did in the 1960s when gas was around 25¢/gallon (that's a quarter). As a middle-schooler I can remember filling up my gas can for my neighborhood mowing service for $1 (four gallons in a five gallon container), then spending the weekend earning that back at roughly $2/yard.<br />
<br />
That low price stayed pretty much the same when I bought my first car in 1971 before I graduated from high school. Gas stayed relatively cheap through 2003, when I purchased my first and only mini-SUV, the Kia Sorento. When I bought it gas was 88¢/gallon due to a local gas war (remember when gas wars were <i><u>only</u></i> about selling cheap gas?) Gas mileage on the Kia was round 20-22mpg, and filling its 20 gallon tank cost me less than $20/week.<br />
<br />
Then in August 2004 Hurricane Charlie hit central Florida, and the price of gas spiked above $2/gallon. That was a shock to me. Charlie was followed later that year by Francis and then Jeanne. After Jeanne gas prices began to slowly drift downward toward $2/gallon.<br />
<br />
But 2004 was just a rehearsal for 2005. That was the year Hurricane Katrina first hit Florida around Miami/Dade, traveled across the peninsula to the Gulf, re-intensified, headed north, and tore the hell up out of New Orleans. And in the process made a mess of Gulf petroleum and gasoline refining. And that's when the price of gas rode well north of $2 and stayed there. The price of gas would rise slowly, unstoppably, until 2008, when I payed $4.14/gallon near Labor Day. While it would eventually drop back below $4/gallon, it never dropped below $3, and I made a promise to the wife to buy my first Prius. I finally bought that first Prius for the family in 2009.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/6909052870" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Orlando Gas Prices 7 April 2012 by Bill Beebe, on Flickr"><img alt="Orlando Gas Prices 7 April 2012" height="600" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7185/6909052870_4050eba693_z.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<br />
In 2012 gasoline was making another surge to $4/gallon and higher. I took the photo above in early April, and <b><a href="http://blogbeebe.blogspot.com/2012/04/business-shutdowns-continue-and.html">wrote about how high it had gotten yet again</a></b>. In the blog post that included this photo I thought that gas would hit $5/gallon that year. Fortunately for me and many others, it never did. But it always hovered between $3 and $4/gallon.<br />
<br />
Then in a rather dramatic turn of events starting in November 2014, the price of crude began a huge drop, followed by drops in the price of gas. It has now been below $2/gallon since mid-January here in central Florida. I have even seen the price as low as $1.89. One of those gas stations where it's that low is where I once paid 88¢/gallon twelve years ago.<br />
<br />
Just as the high cost of gas seems to have had a dramatic negative effect on the Orlando economy, the impact of dropping gas prices has been equally, if more positively, dramatic. A lot more people are out driving these days, resulting in heavier traffic everywhere. I see a lot more people out shopping everywhere. I can't quote any economic statistics, but from what I see I believe that the region is prospering again. I see a lot of construction these days, especially huge apartment complexes, which I equate with affordable housing.<br />
<br />
I never saw this drop coming. I'm now paying less to fill the Prius every week than I did when I first bought my Kia Sorento, even at 88¢/gallon. The Prius holds 10 gallons, half what the Kia did. When I fill up I only have to fill six to seven gallons. I'm still commuting the same distance from where I live near Universal Studios across town to where I work near the University of Central Florida. It's taken a decade of car technological advancement (I now drive a 2012 Prius), as well as a change in driving habits (I'm no hyper-miler, but I don't lead foot it any more either) for me to realize these kinds of savings.<br />
<br />
I had to go through a lot of economic pain to get to this point. Hell will freeze over before I go get another gas-guzzling car like the Kia Sorento. In spite of gas being less than half the price it was back in 2012, I doubt a lot of other folks will buy a big car again, in spite of a reported surge in larger vehicle sales. No, I'm on my way towards a totally electric vehicle, or perhaps I'll move back into the city and just give up the car. Gas, maintenance, insurance and other expenses have made the modern car so unpalatable in the 21st century. I no longer enjoy owning and driving a car like I did when I was a teenage driver. The automotive thrill is truly dead and gone in me.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-69817733443117843032015-01-05T22:31:00.000-05:002015-01-05T22:31:10.331-05:00psa: what's not in project2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51ahe3Eq1_O9IHBEj5KmBbLXpkKaMDKVPkkECPhUR4yf7m7NO5JTbHMlkKCDlX5QfXcvwAcScFcs4HqDYxgqn35BBKj3Ba1Ny7Rwu34x6RpRN9FydecJjybQzykSCiG0panC-/s1600/Screenshot+from+2015-01-05+22:15:11.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51ahe3Eq1_O9IHBEj5KmBbLXpkKaMDKVPkkECPhUR4yf7m7NO5JTbHMlkKCDlX5QfXcvwAcScFcs4HqDYxgqn35BBKj3Ba1Ny7Rwu34x6RpRN9FydecJjybQzykSCiG0panC-/s1600/Screenshot+from+2015-01-05+22:15:11.png" height="356" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Last post I wrote about what I wanted in Project2015. This post is about what won't be here. In general, technology. Posts about Linux are a good example of this, as well as reviews of hardware (camera gear, primarily, followed by computers). I have a second blog, <a href="https://arcanesciencelab.wordpress.com/"><b>Arcane Science Lab</b></a>, that is specifically for my technology side. If you want to read what I have to say about technology they you should meander over there.<br />
<br />
I wrote this post after looking at the statistics on this blog and noticing that folks are still finding my old Linux posts. The last time I wrote about Linux was back in November of 2013. It was about Ubuntu 13.10, among other distributions. Since then I've moved on to 14.04 LTS, and now to 14.10. Ubuntu is my primary (my only, to be honest) Linux distribution. It works well and I know how to tweak it to do exactly what I want in a mere minutes after initial installation. It runs the latest Oracle Java, as well as the latest Android tools (see above), among other applications I care about. It just works for me, and that's all I ask of any operating system, no matter who makes it. It's now 2015, and that includes not just Canonical but Apple and Microsoft, critics and naysayers not withstanding. I have better things to do with my time that write aspersions about any contemporary operating system on any hardware platform.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-40097248323045514452015-01-04T17:23:00.002-05:002015-01-04T18:02:08.111-05:00what is project2015?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/15579568803" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="mcdonald's gainesville by Bill Beebe, on Flickr"><img alt="mcdonald's gainesville" height="480" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7554/15579568803_a0fdee96b8_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I have started a project for 2015 called Project2015. What is Project2015, you ask? Project2015 is one of those projects with very vague goals that just came sneaking in. It's so vague that when it's finished I can declare victory, no matter what, and say that the final results, however they turn out, were what I had in mind all along. Like many government projects it will be successful in spite of itself.<br />
<br />
It will consist of (more or less, generally speaking) a post/day, with at least one lead photograph. The lead photograph will have been taken sometime in 2015. This is not to say that this is a 365 project. I tried one of those back in 2012, and it just about drove me crazy trying to come up with something every single friggin' day. So this time I'll have a lead photo that was taken in 2015, with some words wrapped around it like this post.<br />
<br />
The posts will actually be something you recognize, such as this old-style McDonald's up in Gainesville Florida (at the Archer exit on I-75). I like this McDonald's because it's really old-school, not like the modern boxes that are now popping up all over the landscape in place of last generation's McDonald's. Even this one is not truly old-school. Walk inside and the interior is reasonably modern in layout and construction. Only the exterior sports the old-style golden arches. As far as I know it's the only one quite like it left in Central Florida.<br />
<br />
This should give you some idea of what Project2015 is all about. It's about life as I happen up it in 2015. It's about how people live and work and how the economy is operating (or not) all through 2015. Because I travel in my job to other parts of the country and the world, it'll include photos and commentary from those areas. The majority is expected to come from around Orlando and Central Florida, with smatterings from other locales in Florida, such as Gainesville and Tallahassee. Maybe the Keys and the Space Coast. Perhaps the odd jaunt to Tampa. Who knows.<br />
<br />
Project 2015 and This Old Blog are my historical and sociological digital notebook for 2015. I recognize that 2015, for whatever reason, is a historical cusp for my life in particular and American society in general. Large forces are in play now, and they're going to have major effects on life as I know it. This is my personal document of the year that will be known as 2015. I hope you'll find it interesting, and I look forward to comments and criticisms, constructive or otherwise.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-46520528584630432012015-01-03T23:51:00.001-05:002015-01-03T23:51:08.271-05:00anthropomorphization<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/16005451417" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="asleep by Bill Beebe, on Flickr"><img alt="asleep" height="480" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7475/16005451417_c781cf3b37_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
anthropomorphization: noun: attributing human characteristics to something that is nonhuman (like an animal, such as a cat).<br />
<br />
We pet owners are a funny breed (non pun intended). We ascribe all sorts of human qualities to our animals. And how can we not, when we see them doing something not just human, but so very child-like? Lulu likes to sleep on the arm of the stuffed chair, with one paw stretched out and around the bottom. Kind of like a kid with a pillow.<br />
<br />
What makes this one particularly special is that the light came from the Christmas tree lights. Lulu has an affinity for that tree, more than the other two cats. Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-32878853577708446412015-01-02T23:30:00.000-05:002015-01-03T01:02:22.352-05:00things that make you go "hmmm"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/15994130840" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="best stores for the zombie apocolypse by Bill Beebe, on Flickr"><img alt="best stores for the zombie apocolypse" height="360" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7513/15994130840_87b5d4253c_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Seen while driving down Universal Blvd<b>, </b>stopped at the light at the intersection with Sand Lake. It's good to know you can get unlimited light bulbs with your zombie survival gear. You can always be guaranteed your lights will stay lit when the zombies come for your brains. Makes it easier to target the zombies before they get you. And always remember: <a href="http://www.zombielandrules.com/"><b>Rule #2</b></a>.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-75053706838964355362015-01-01T23:30:00.000-05:002015-01-04T08:39:45.970-05:00new year, new post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/14243716506" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="olympus 1.8/17mm by Bill Beebe, on Flickr"><img alt="olympus 1.8/17mm" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5529/14243716506_fc2830888a_z.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>
<br />
Happy New Year. Just a very quick entry to prove to myself that the one and only post for 2014 (and the last post chronologically) wasn't a fluke. It's also the briefest of outlines for what might be in store for 2015 and beyond.<br />
<br />
I've been collecting Olympus gear, specifically OM-D cameras and prime lenses. The one you see above is my last lens acquisition, the M.Zuiko 1.8/17mm. Since that time I've picked up two new camera bodies, a second E-M5 and an E-M10. The photo above was taken with the Panasonic GX1 and the Olympus 45mm.<br />
<br />
With the three OM-Ds I have enough bodies to mount all my favorite lenses, and to just roam about taking photos without changing lenses. Sometimes I'll just take one of the bodies with a specific lens and just use it exclusively.<br />
<br />
This coming year I intend to start another photo project using just the OM-D bodies (the GX1 was given away, along with the Panasonic 20mm). I want to do something along the lines of Matthew Robertson's 5Kphoto project. There's a link to it at the right, but unfortunately all the photos seem to have disappeared. But perhaps that's actually a good thing. The last thing I need is to use Matthews project as a crutch instead of inspiration, or to unconsciously plagiarise his work.<br />
<br />
Regardless I'm going to be posting in two blogs, this one and the <a href="https://arcanesciencelab.wordpress.com/"><b>Arcane Science Lab</b></a>. The photo project will be here, while the rest of my bloviating will go to the ASL.<br />
<br />
Here's to an interesting 2015.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-90545331369793779412014-12-30T16:34:00.000-05:002015-01-02T12:18:21.460-05:00it's a year later and yet another trip to japan<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wbeebe/15448466313" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="ikebukuro station train yards by Bill Beebe, on Flickr"><img alt="ikebukuro station train yards" height="480" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7487/15448466313_f631091f87_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ikebukuro, Tokyo, Japan train station</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
A little over a year ago I thought I had closed this particular blog down. Look at the posting history and you'll see I've written nothing here since December 22nd of 2013. I called that post "endgame" because I considered this blog truly at an end. But life never quite works out the way you plan.<br />
<br />
I moved over and created a new blog with Wordpress. I called it the <a href="https://arcanesciencelab.wordpress.com/"><b>Arcane Science Lab</b></a>. I expected to do Great Things on that blog, and I expected the world to beat a path to my new blog. After a year it's debatable what great things were done on that blog, and I can assure you that while I got a lot of followers, I saw no beaten paths leading to that new blog. If anything, while the traffic to this blog dropped considerably, it's still about an order of magnitude greater than to the newer blog on Wordpress. Considering the high hopes I had the and the hype surrounding Wordpress-based blogs I expected a lot more. While it's easy enough to blame Wordpress, I have to shoulder most, if not all, of the blame for its lackluster performance.<br />
<br />
I don't advertise, so it's not like I'm loosing money due to lack of advertising. I've never advertised, and if anything, because I'm using the free version of Wordpress, it's Wordpress itself that's inserting ads into my posts. I know, I've seen them.<br />
<br />
And so I'm thinking of moving back here, and opening up, this original blog again. And to get rid of some of the egoism involved, I'm renaming it (although the original link will have to stay, unfortunately). I'm also opening up commenting again, since I'll be keeping a more active "eye" on this blog. As for the Wordpress blog, I'm not sure what I'll do with that one.<br />
<br />
I could, if I wanted to, try to merge the Wordpress content back into this blog. That's would be a bit of a task, considering I wrote some 120+ entries on that blog, including images. I'd have to transfer everything over and then somehow decommission (delete) that blog. It doesn't make a lot of sense to keep both going, although it might be a good idea to have both to keep from putting all my blogging eggs into one platform basket. Sorry for stretching that particular metaphor...<br />
<br />
And so, in a way, I'm back, and the place is open for business. I'll be experimenting with layouts and what have you, as well as doing a bit of writing. Perhaps this will become the alternative to the ASL. I'm not sure what that means. Perhaps my photography and trips should go here, while my "science-y" stuff goes on the ASL. Lots to think about going into 2015 and beyond.<br />
<br />
Comments and thoughts welcome.<br />
<br />
Happy New Year.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-74390779832806047382013-12-22T21:55:00.001-05:002015-01-02T12:18:38.766-05:00endgameI have created a new Wordpress-powered blog called <a href="http://arcanesciencelab.wordpress.com/"><b>arcanesciencelab</b></a>. That's where I will be publishing all my words of wisdom in the future. If all goes according to plan, this will be the last post on this blog. Note that all commenting has been turned off and all comments have been hidden. You spammers finally won. As did Google's lack of caring for Blogger.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-59704631895493665382013-11-30T06:28:00.000-05:002013-11-30T06:28:28.516-05:00merry christmas from chitose<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bfK7zpNAdmsKtf18m3JNQXgyklXLO19K98WeMvn0yOghPFhmJ3uwensOHqc1G4zgkqH-GvofMbA1wexI8uzCN_25DbSwERAebXChd09YW91jcQgLBiHMYAsDc8Q6X7P7UZBh/s1600/PB290026-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bfK7zpNAdmsKtf18m3JNQXgyklXLO19K98WeMvn0yOghPFhmJ3uwensOHqc1G4zgkqH-GvofMbA1wexI8uzCN_25DbSwERAebXChd09YW91jcQgLBiHMYAsDc8Q6X7P7UZBh/s400/PB290026-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Colonel dressed as Santa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I don't know why but Chitose near where I'm staying has Christmas fever. There's Christmas decorations everywhere, and Christmas music (carols and other seasonal American songs) are playing in the background. This Colonel, at a Japanese KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken to all you old timers) was dressed out in a Santa suit right near one of the entrances into the store. I would have eaten there except they were cash (Yen) only and wouldn't take plastic. I've since fixed the yen problem, finding out that the hotel will exchange dollars for yen at the rate of 97 yen to the dollar. Tomorrow I'm going to have my Japanese KFC meal.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSoRV1E32jYTc2nl6EF73r1qvzp5zhPD41gsVKvGh-uuXDbjh29hSGyXYbgh-P26NIRb3vuffrXLURQCzSbWnxL4_1Wa3kxxYwQVErUvOrYXpCl3G2Y3pmzXNn-rYUX97OpsIJ/s1600/PB290004-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSoRV1E32jYTc2nl6EF73r1qvzp5zhPD41gsVKvGh-uuXDbjh29hSGyXYbgh-P26NIRb3vuffrXLURQCzSbWnxL4_1Wa3kxxYwQVErUvOrYXpCl3G2Y3pmzXNn-rYUX97OpsIJ/s400/PB290004-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down from the ninth floor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I walked around the hotel a bit, exploring the nearer blocks, keeping the hotel in view to avoid getting lost. So far I'm remembering landmarks, so that I can begin to walk farther and farther on my explorations. This view from the ninth floor gives you an idea of the weather here; it's cold and snowy. I haven't seen snow on the ground in years. It's been cloudy since I've been here, and early this evening when I went out for supper I walked through snow snowers.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30YhVWdDv1o_4mCvC8qVKSRfzeJc4il7PD1LgTY6okrKg5yqnroYNLplyPBVsIN1FlDAU6YPtPICuMhwVlUfImjR2daUuGzW0qtCNaYqIRWv-q9m1n4bZ8tEOb_tphHzgdAVO/s1600/PB290013-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30YhVWdDv1o_4mCvC8qVKSRfzeJc4il7PD1LgTY6okrKg5yqnroYNLplyPBVsIN1FlDAU6YPtPICuMhwVlUfImjR2daUuGzW0qtCNaYqIRWv-q9m1n4bZ8tEOb_tphHzgdAVO/s400/PB290013-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I've had a deep appreciation for Japanese car design, especially the more interesting designs. This Mitsubishi compact is a model not seen in the US (at least, I certainly haven't seen it). And there are models and entire car brands driving around Chitose I've never seen before. A lot of the vehicles have the same basic design as this Mitsubishi, a squared off vehicle devoted mostly to interior space, with just enough for the four wheels and a very small but efficient power plant. Front wheel drive can give you a lot of those design capabilities. It would appear from reading that all Japanese urban centers are dense, requiring an automotive solution similar to this. Not quite the same in the sprawling US urban centers, although those days are coming. Note that the Mitsubishi has four doors on the side as well as a hatch in back. I really like this car.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxavaCDMIuwXDeT5Pt9tAbc8Qy6nIQ30t7wmeuofogUCoONM22o8RbX902xq7ilyukIBqGIza6cQfuT-CTsqAw4lGnSM_3F805QXLwKta9ygirDGBnNZ_m4rGRH42vFAmVroS/s1600/PB300210-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxavaCDMIuwXDeT5Pt9tAbc8Qy6nIQ30t7wmeuofogUCoONM22o8RbX902xq7ilyukIBqGIza6cQfuT-CTsqAw4lGnSM_3F805QXLwKta9ygirDGBnNZ_m4rGRH42vFAmVroS/s320/PB300210-Edit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
My wife will kill me, but I ate at a local Japanese McDonalds tonight. And spent real yen (finally). What's surprising about buying food here is the price: it's no more expensive buying in Chitose than in Orlando, Florida. The food, interestingly, tastes exactly the same. I would have thought there might be some small Japanese touches, but outside of the printing and the menu (it's definitely showing different items), it's no different than any McDonalds I've eaten at in the US and Canada. Except this one minor detail. When at this McDonalds, don't ask for diet Coke, ask for Coke Zero. A 'diet' drink causes some confusion.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw6flY-W51jdLOwEeJF4MQrSiUNVJKC5JovuNnubZG-aVRFumuPut1OGXiL8BXNtT8_mjJJn75uh7-04H1siIxTEgKGa768eyC9SGteEg2Kkgliu5DQ1pLu8OMwXwt372kPAq8/s1600/PB300221-Edit-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw6flY-W51jdLOwEeJF4MQrSiUNVJKC5JovuNnubZG-aVRFumuPut1OGXiL8BXNtT8_mjJJn75uh7-04H1siIxTEgKGa768eyC9SGteEg2Kkgliu5DQ1pLu8OMwXwt372kPAq8/s320/PB300221-Edit-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The McDonalds is in a mall just down the street from the hotel. It's big and bright and colorful on the inside, a Japanese version of Toronto's former super store, Honest Eds. Honest Eds has gone the way of a lot of stores, but this mall will live on. One of the store-within-a-store sellers was this florist. Note the huge Christmas tree at the corner and all the ornaments, decorations, and themed floral arrangements. Christmas is Big in Japan.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-2499167824251587822013-11-30T02:27:00.001-05:002013-11-30T07:00:16.079-05:00blogging (nearly) naked in japan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeWoazq2Vy2XAm6u1UA5uYSTFJb8jWEocun6WoZ85glgOwcWs9cVQJzf-Ehoh2HEDPkReA0NSjzhAdh36IFzxOjG3n4qVcav7CX5Bskb5DGvNB5WZsHqSyVWi3xkBwFiiJLY-V/s1600/PB290196-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeWoazq2Vy2XAm6u1UA5uYSTFJb8jWEocun6WoZ85glgOwcWs9cVQJzf-Ehoh2HEDPkReA0NSjzhAdh36IFzxOjG3n4qVcav7CX5Bskb5DGvNB5WZsHqSyVWi3xkBwFiiJLY-V/s400/PB290196-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
So here I am in Chitose, Japan. This is the first time in my life I've ever traveled this far, although I've certainly had my fair share of air travel within CONUS. Even my few trips across the border to Canada and south into Mexico (back when Mexico wasn't nearly as dangerous as it is today, and well before 9/11) don't count.<br />
<br />
Oddly enough this is the first time I've used my passport, the second update to a passport I originally obtained back in the mid-1990s for travel to Japan. I worked for Mitsubishi Wireless up in Lake Mary, Florida, and I was meant to travel to Japan on a business trip. But the trip never came about, and I left the company. Now, almost 20 years later, I'm using the passport for (almost) its intended reason, but for a far different company and set of circumstances.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMas-mG0EVuji_2oun3GC07TBylxqeL0SupZC3pcrEECI_ccb2hmdjqIG9XqfkDddoPkNxfOzW9c7BRCnuseejHVwFZa0iUF8DZgf3PJkXS8aokZP2dTjJr6Ul0PlCt70Xu34O/s1600/PB280174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMas-mG0EVuji_2oun3GC07TBylxqeL0SupZC3pcrEECI_ccb2hmdjqIG9XqfkDddoPkNxfOzW9c7BRCnuseejHVwFZa0iUF8DZgf3PJkXS8aokZP2dTjJr6Ul0PlCt70Xu34O/s400/PB280174.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting in Houston to board a flight to Tokyo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My trip from Orlando to Chitose started around 6:30am Thursday morning, and didn't end until 10pm Friday Chitose time. The flight itself took a solid 24 hours across three individual flights, the longest being about 15 hours from Houston to Tokyo-Narita. That flight, fortunately, was on a Boeing 777-200. Even though I was in the back (no business class for this guy!), the seat was still roomy, and miracle of miracles, it wasn't a full flight; the seat next to me was empty. So I could stretch out a bit more than I would have if the seat was filled. The other two connecting flights were completely full 737 commuter flights.<br />
<br />
I'd like to stop for a moment and observe how polite the Japanese are, almost to a fault. Not a single Japanese individual I've had direct interactions with so far have been impolite. One of the most intense interactions came at Narita where I transferred to Chitose.<br />
<br />
Based on instructions with the tickets, I was under the impression my one checked piece of luggage would automatically be transferred from the Houston-to-Tokyo flight to the Tokyo-to-Chitose flight. Unfortunately for me it did not; I was required by the Japanese to pick up my one piece of checked baggage from the carousel and walk it through customs just like I had done with my carry on luggage. With a 3 1/2 hour layover in Narita I had more than enough time to do that. Instead, I went through customs with just my computer and overhead bag, and headed over to the gate to board the flight to Chitose.<br />
<br />
About two hours later, a very polite Japanese voice called my name over the intercom to come up to the gate. It is interesting to hear the Japanese call your name. To give them credit, they did a better job at it than I usually have gotten right here in the US with native English speakers. At least they got the syllable break. That's when they informed me about my luggage, still sitting on the other side of the security barrier back at United Air.<br />
<br />
And so, with a little more than an hour before the Chitose flight left, I had to leave the gate, go back through the security area, back through customs, pick up my piece of luggage, back through customs for a third time, then have it checked on the Chitose flight, then back through security again, and finally back down to the gate. All that time, apologizing to everyone I met for being an idiot. At no time did anyone become an obstacle to me. The Japanese officials I came across all seemed to understand what I needed and were most helpful. It took very little time to correct my mistake, and I was able to get to Chitose with all my luggage, which is a nice thing to happen.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguGk7Xp41stmm3h_rluzH9OllRuYnb3ad8H3dl9st7uWhKLl-T3DDZxQ41guv-BD5O1w-sLqIJ_ZO5C0kldvf1Mv-tLgMXvY-LTi31XWI7QIIxByyYEplSBaMAEZuU0T62x1x7/s1600/PB290182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguGk7Xp41stmm3h_rluzH9OllRuYnb3ad8H3dl9st7uWhKLl-T3DDZxQ41guv-BD5O1w-sLqIJ_ZO5C0kldvf1Mv-tLgMXvY-LTi31XWI7QIIxByyYEplSBaMAEZuU0T62x1x7/s400/PB290182.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Please refrain from using your mobile phone"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After getting to my hotel, I went out for a Real Meal (I'd had two airline meals on the Houston to Tokyo run, and that was it). I wound up at a little place across from the hotel called Royal Host, a Japanese family restaurant chain, where I ordered a Japanese turkey and BLT, which tasted remarkably like an American turkey and BLT. Hey, it was late, and I was really tired.<br />
<br />
They also ask you not to use your mobile phone, at least not for voice. There were lots of Japanese using there smart phones for every thing else. I noticed the "Please refrain..." notice on all the tables, and I noticed they were all printed in English, not Japanese. Which makes you wonder...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3lhAzGko7mGYJI_mXpc6CZMjKuGqUjKEAfQBqbKp72BqBefKxlIs3KPvtrXzDQJEsEeGRGppGfYjy0dfhOxvYMNP4zYlguX3Q4QdH1ZSHuOp5f28pYLuCgEil7q4jWXCRG5Rw/s1600/PB290188-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3lhAzGko7mGYJI_mXpc6CZMjKuGqUjKEAfQBqbKp72BqBefKxlIs3KPvtrXzDQJEsEeGRGppGfYjy0dfhOxvYMNP4zYlguX3Q4QdH1ZSHuOp5f28pYLuCgEil7q4jWXCRG5Rw/s400/PB290188-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I also noticed I was in Japan, even at a restaurant that looked very American, by how the table was set out for me. For example, I've never had a napkin and silverware placed before me in a box. The drink portions, in this case a diet Coke, came in very small glasses. We Americans are far to fat because our portions are far to large. I've had several more meals since Royal Host and I've noted the small portions, including glasses of water.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHD2A7_6msPRz96-UxPPwpQwHjG-ZNEpls6C2Sup6deSRHgvZorgmqb6Te2B5ME4QjXYZ04GL77US9Y7EzWnbVMXu8IWWqip66p6sXKA5O7xoSo879HJWPhZtyofroK0GTy55/s1600/PB290190-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHD2A7_6msPRz96-UxPPwpQwHjG-ZNEpls6C2Sup6deSRHgvZorgmqb6Te2B5ME4QjXYZ04GL77US9Y7EzWnbVMXu8IWWqip66p6sXKA5O7xoSo879HJWPhZtyofroK0GTy55/s400/PB290190-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
What drives home that I've come to a different land was the packet of "French" mustard written in "Engrish." I point this out not to cause any embarrassment, but to show how vital clear communications are. In a perfect world, English would translate to Japanese and back to English again with no loss in understanding. It also shows how a Japanese illiterate, such as myself, is so dependent on any scraps of English. Back in the mid-1990s, when I was originally headed over here, I took a pair of Japanese language courses to become somewhat literate. But I never used it and I've just about lost everything, especially the ability to read some Japanese. Sounds like it's time for a few refresher courses when I get back home. I supposed to return to Tokyo next February.<br />
<br />
Today, Saturday, has been my travel recovery day. I tried not to sleep at all today, but failed, and took a two hour nap mid-afternoon local time. Now I'm awake again. If you're wondering I started writing this early this morning local time.<br />
<br />
Sunday starts a long thirteen day, 12 hour/day, work marathon. It should be interesting.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-4387978364494274162013-11-26T12:51:00.000-05:002013-11-26T17:31:46.907-05:00day 2 with the olympus e-pl3<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_42wQWxcfWTQSVC6Whlkf3virQC6inH_KRcGvryUtC4iEt3eKcUX94-9ZoTFh8UCincpTp8-Q_j-dRVr0IQxLFDYsVnaGX1D4_TEKJHKPElMTnu4gw-V85FokZ7KSHgKvbrb/s1600/PB260037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_42wQWxcfWTQSVC6Whlkf3virQC6inH_KRcGvryUtC4iEt3eKcUX94-9ZoTFh8UCincpTp8-Q_j-dRVr0IQxLFDYsVnaGX1D4_TEKJHKPElMTnu4gw-V85FokZ7KSHgKvbrb/s400/PB260037.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">two seniors say hello</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's Thanksgiving week. I'm taking a few days of personal time before Thanksgiving Day because I'll be flying on business to Japan on Thursday. My wife and I are running around trying to get as much done as possible before I leave her alone with the two Labs and the three cats. She'll have our two daughters to come and visit as well as all her friends and our neighbors, but still, I worry. And because I worry I plan accordingly.<br />
<br />
One trip was to our vet with Max and Lucy. Max needed his ears checked, and Lucy needed to have a minor operation checked to see if she was healing well. Both little guys came away with flying colors. Max in particular is happy because his ears are in great shape. Max is a Lab, and Labs are Hounds, and a Hound's ears are very important to them.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2CtA7bTzfS3XR9oxUNemyFaYkJjK2szf79KQLtXsLf90TyPjz-8VAT8FAzGdZr3iOMGTPfU6YFhUnzdk563OJFrCm3hCUrySHgSAVbv_pnda5aqP6FlN2PTB6D510RxmiDrp/s1600/PB260041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2CtA7bTzfS3XR9oxUNemyFaYkJjK2szf79KQLtXsLf90TyPjz-8VAT8FAzGdZr3iOMGTPfU6YFhUnzdk563OJFrCm3hCUrySHgSAVbv_pnda5aqP6FlN2PTB6D510RxmiDrp/s400/PB260041.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">you don't smell like a puppy...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
While we were in the waiting room for out turn with the vet, many little characters, large and small, came over to pay their respects to The Man. Max was very laid back with all the greetings. No barks or growls from any of the parties involved, just a lot of sniffing and tail wags.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4t_r16yrOKbKP1T4V3pUNaL99e6bcBevub1DmXkmxXtdr9r9kWSBKFuf_6YiE7TwToahWIYeUd66KvlXGDEMxraNe0J9zXWjwy2shYd3z1fWYgVQDZelHb2iAoe2qlmcN_6tm/s1600/PB260048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4t_r16yrOKbKP1T4V3pUNaL99e6bcBevub1DmXkmxXtdr9r9kWSBKFuf_6YiE7TwToahWIYeUd66KvlXGDEMxraNe0J9zXWjwy2shYd3z1fWYgVQDZelHb2iAoe2qlmcN_6tm/s400/PB260048.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">very dirty paws that need a good bath</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-RSJSE87DLM_llJp5qUBdiFp3j3IwgZqz-hQKb-GH3hJAw73LSYlSq8KLlJBqeRK8SuPLlL6yNAZ4cSvdON68YT-ozwHhiaIw9_RF1fBsrUfwSTvgto-KNNLZszIwHKEXu8j/s1600/PB260083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ-RSJSE87DLM_llJp5qUBdiFp3j3IwgZqz-hQKb-GH3hJAw73LSYlSq8KLlJBqeRK8SuPLlL6yNAZ4cSvdON68YT-ozwHhiaIw9_RF1fBsrUfwSTvgto-KNNLZszIwHKEXu8j/s400/PB260083.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">why yes, I'm doing quite good for 13 1/2</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Max passed his exam with flying colors, and Lucy was showing pretty good progress. Max was most happy because he wasn't poked or prodded or shot. The only intrusion into any of his body canals was the quick look the vet took into both of his ears. After that Max was a happy camper.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6DkhLYBnvWaYwXZwHgGQSyQl7_F0lJPJUBxD1T8hvEfImuGQ-T8I-EwYNi0f4NsDxDTI3PV0h0mkmVkpzLW5jmttHqGGj3Fx7ed6jIKgrfnLSQZ64HfA7lFaW60kTM3LAuiSe/s1600/PB260137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6DkhLYBnvWaYwXZwHgGQSyQl7_F0lJPJUBxD1T8hvEfImuGQ-T8I-EwYNi0f4NsDxDTI3PV0h0mkmVkpzLW5jmttHqGGj3Fx7ed6jIKgrfnLSQZ64HfA7lFaW60kTM3LAuiSe/s400/PB260137.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I took both of the characters back out to the car. Lucy, in her carrier, went into the back seat. Max went out around the side to check things out and leave his calling cards for any other four-footed characters. After taking Max back to the car I went over and played a bit with the E-PL3 and the Lumix 20mm. I liked the ethereal lighting of this shot the most.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5SDqjC6kwqh8fFAACHMJ1wY4QPsBK2SHVMVWES7Gun44h8CPsZpm4IETNMUqD1JNI1RMcl79SGotnWGkeg1-AOfR9MHsOb4mgtX5o3CS9s34v4uG1UY8DLntiy5jlJ5f_GNgp/s1600/PB260157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5SDqjC6kwqh8fFAACHMJ1wY4QPsBK2SHVMVWES7Gun44h8CPsZpm4IETNMUqD1JNI1RMcl79SGotnWGkeg1-AOfR9MHsOb4mgtX5o3CS9s34v4uG1UY8DLntiy5jlJ5f_GNgp/s400/PB260157.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
No post of mine would be quite complete without a downer comment concerning the economy. In this specific case, the one-week rise of gas in Orlando from $3.04 to $3.45. I have no idea what the problem is, but this rise in prices is the fastest I've ever seen. My wife says it's to take advantage of Thanksgiving travelers. That's as good a reason as any, and wouldn't surprise me if that were the real reason.<br />
<br />
<b>Technical</b><br />
<br />
Taken with the Olympus E-PL3 and Lumix 20mm. I've set the camera up to shoot square (6:6), and created a custom color profile. My custom profile starts with muted (#4), then sets contrast to -2, sharpness -1, saturation -2, and gradation to high key. This gives me a visual effect similar to the light tone art filter (#4) on the E-M5. Oh, and I kept the warm tone on the white balance.<br />
<br />
As I promised yesterday everything straight out of the camera. No cropping, no scaling.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-41592155177814598332013-11-25T21:58:00.001-05:002013-11-26T16:40:12.726-05:00can't get enough - olympus e-pl3<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-xeyCk45dkWKnJBSBbRHm9r80Z3UaV9AFjBffgQXxwT8REJed0cdXWS1RpdcHkFhSfWzgy8HhZxMjp3wmnpDZcTtkEhEM6s_pBczKCIHd9AbPMvsASd7QwB4GVynHxEdTSRL/s1600/PB250016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-xeyCk45dkWKnJBSBbRHm9r80Z3UaV9AFjBffgQXxwT8REJed0cdXWS1RpdcHkFhSfWzgy8HhZxMjp3wmnpDZcTtkEhEM6s_pBczKCIHd9AbPMvsASd7QwB4GVynHxEdTSRL/s320/PB250016.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">E-PL3, Lumix 14mm, and FL-FM1</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Some men pass the time by chasing women. I did that and wound up married, and we all know how expensive that gets, especially when you add in some children. Some men pass the time with hobbies like fishing or golf, and wind up spending considerable sums on expensive boats, expensive fishing gear, or expensive golf equipment (some very expensive). Some men even have photography as a hobby, and we all know how expensive that can get.<br />
<br />
I, on the other hand, with my limited budget, have a hobby collecting and using older cameras that have passed their prime (no pun intended). So I wait, usually several years, until all those former new hotness cameras become old and busted in the eyes of the market and they go on considerable markdown. The Olympus E-PL3 is one of those cameras.<br />
<br />
Introduced the latter half of 2011, it was the last of the 12MP µ4:3rds cameras (the other two being the E-P3 and E-PM1). The next cameras to come out of the Olympus camera chute, in fact the very next camera, was the 16MP E-M5. And I have one of those.<br />
<br />
I have this <u><i>itch</i></u> to collect still-new cameras in original packing that hit the $200 or less price point. The E-PL3 is the third such Olympus camera I've purchased like this, the other two being the E-PL1 ($140) and the E-PL2 ($200). I even purchased the Panasonic GX1 for $200. The E-PL3 is unique for two reasons:<br />
<ol>
<li>While I purchased all the other low-cost cameras body only, the E-PL3 came with the third generation 14-42mm kit lens, the II R. And the seller, Newegg, threw in a free Toshiba 8GB SDHC Class 10 flash card. How could I resist the E-PL3's siren call to my wallet?</li>
<li>It's red. Very, very red. I like red. A lot. Much, much better than, say, yellow.</li>
</ol>
There are all sorts of oddments and perceived issues about this camera, and they're all pretty much true. I'd be concerned, except the low low price forgives all sins. I mean, if I wanted the perfect camera I'd get myself a perfect camera like the Nikon Df.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir66svHvyviOVNyja5UQ7C1lDaKXgu42iFe4npXWTyf3RHAnY_HCYzxtrvFsTyaA7v5DdHd5SMPyhZMGo_2_qKfHSryb2F3Dkp_0oGKVFQ-Y07NH-HPpVBLfMmR2861SlCJ27Z/s1600/PB250021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir66svHvyviOVNyja5UQ7C1lDaKXgu42iFe4npXWTyf3RHAnY_HCYzxtrvFsTyaA7v5DdHd5SMPyhZMGo_2_qKfHSryb2F3Dkp_0oGKVFQ-Y07NH-HPpVBLfMmR2861SlCJ27Z/s400/PB250021.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kit zoom, 42mm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It took me no time to slap in a battery (it takes the BLS-1 and I have plenty of those), grab a cheap SDHC card, program the bits out I don't care about (such as the low-light focusing aid, an LED that shines annoyingly out of the front of the camera), and start clicking away like a tourist with a red compact camera.<br />
<br />
Folks seem taken with the red camera. They certainly don't seem intimidated by a little red camera. So much for the commandment that thou shalt take thy street photographs with a black camera and have all the white bits taped up.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshm09WMDbBj0bWEPR0-58l2iiHbuTb1i0jhzQjI7HhrS-1Lxijx19jD4c2D4AiYi0IT510_UXbBLOxURcActkFWJ1OKXiI8nPWBJOrFFYcBBZnu2SPdQ_RFV_Eq7k5uV1Aj6n/s1600/PB250018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshm09WMDbBj0bWEPR0-58l2iiHbuTb1i0jhzQjI7HhrS-1Lxijx19jD4c2D4AiYi0IT510_UXbBLOxURcActkFWJ1OKXiI8nPWBJOrFFYcBBZnu2SPdQ_RFV_Eq7k5uV1Aj6n/s400/PB250018.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kit zoom, 14mm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbGw1I-z_0UWPpfzywMasO3rRGUpAgYoYvXYezC6ZQndbvtglXGA1RXNdzvuVMgqhsxks2BEP1PEMM87V9hk2LworeX3X-1eTXd6bEzB0CoOzvZpWZKnMbvS6r2Y6vZnyvx9D/s1600/PB250026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbGw1I-z_0UWPpfzywMasO3rRGUpAgYoYvXYezC6ZQndbvtglXGA1RXNdzvuVMgqhsxks2BEP1PEMM87V9hk2LworeX3X-1eTXd6bEzB0CoOzvZpWZKnMbvS6r2Y6vZnyvx9D/s400/PB250026.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">paparazzi cat - Lumix 14mm and FL-FM1 flash</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The camera comes with a clip-on flash, the Olympus FL-FM1, the earlier version of the clip-on flash that ships with the E-M5, the FL-FM2. The FL-FM1 has a small push-in lock to help the flash stay clipped in place so it won't get knocked off. With the flash head popped down the E=PL3 looks a bit taller, but not nearly as tall if the VF-2 EVF were plugged in its place.<br />
<br />
It's a fun camera, and it has a feature that makes it quite useful - the flippy LCD display on the back. It isn't a touch screen, but if there's anything the NEX 5N and the E-M5 have taught me, it's that a flippy display is something very nice indeed to have on the back of your camera. It makes it easy to hold at your waist, where nobody seems to notice that you're operating a camera. But then I'm sure when they spy my little Very Red camera, the thought immediately goes through their minds, "What self-respecting photographer does Artistic Street Photography with a Very Red camera?" Whom, indeed?<br />
<br />
I will be rolling about the countryside with this camera, and I will be shooting fine JPEGs straight out of the camera. I need something light and light hearted that won't drive me to Lightroom and all the convoluted post processing "work flow" I've been chasing since 2009. I'd use my cell phone for that, but I can't stand the ergonomics nor the output of my Samsung S4. And I'm not all that crazy about the other giants of the cellphone camera field, especially the Apple iPhone.<br />
<br />
I also refuse to review this camera. I did that with several of my earlier purchases, notably he E-P2 and GX1, and while it's fun, it also detracts from the real reason for owning any camera - to use the bloody things. There are too many reviews of cameras out there already, sucking the life and fun out of every one of them. If you want a formal review for this camera, you only have to google for them.<br />
<br />
I'm out to have some fun. For the foreseeable future I intend to keep the 14mm stuck to the front of the E-PL3 and pretend it's a Ricoh GR. That's assuming Matthew doesn't burst my bubble.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-85127414041095579422013-11-24T08:11:00.000-05:002013-11-24T16:24:13.732-05:00scroogled<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOYTvH7EEo0Wi-rR43oNDXVDlyeMqCrEOBNI2Co7ppnF0q0GFFjEPLyXNC2tqa9U9PM349yGZMqIxByTADFfIql-HIAKb-uKv10roZ0O7Ri4HzQziVR9j4VQhosaKw1uH9wZY/s1600/7275043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOYTvH7EEo0Wi-rR43oNDXVDlyeMqCrEOBNI2Co7ppnF0q0GFFjEPLyXNC2tqa9U9PM349yGZMqIxByTADFfIql-HIAKb-uKv10roZ0O7Ri4HzQziVR9j4VQhosaKw1uH9wZY/s1600/7275043.jpg" /></a></div>
You're looking at the cover of a short story written by Cory Doctorow in 2007. That's a good six years ago. Note the title of the story. I've known about "Scroogled" since 2009 when I first stumbled across it. So it's not like Microsoft or anyone associated with them came up with the term.<br />
<br />
Lately, Microsoft has been <b><a href="http://www.digitaltrends.com/web/google-scroogled-merchandise-from-microsoft/">selling merchandise</a></b>, titled appropriately enough, Scroogled. You can get tees and ball caps and coffee mugs and other paraphernalia with Scroogled emblazoned across each item in the Google logo colors.<br />
<br />
And everybody has been making fun of the Microsoft efforts, including, interestingly enough, <b><a href="http://boingboing.net/2013/11/23/microsoft-video-attacks-google.html">Cory Doctorow via BoingBoing</a></b>. But as Cory writes in his latest article on the subject:<br />
<blockquote>
<i>It's a clever parody and Microsoft's point is actually a good one, but Microsoft doesn't have much moral high-ground here. The company's long history of dirty tricks against free and open source software, its role in patent trolling, and <b><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/jul/11/microsoft-nsa-collaboration-user-data">its eager cooperation with NSA surveillance</a></b> and surveillance by the secret police in China -- see, for example, the creation of back-doors in Skype -- mean that Microsoft's positioning itself as a champion of digital ethics rings hollow.</i></blockquote>
I have to agree with Doctorow. Talk about a particular pot calling a particular kettle black. No, if you really want to read something truly chilling, then you should read <b><a href="http://craphound.com/scroogled.html">Cory's story "Scroogled" from 2007</a></b>. If this <i><u><b>might-be</b></u></i> from six years ago doesn't leave you chilled about how close the story is to the current state of the commercial surveillance system, then nothing will. It's our willingness to essentially ignore what Google and Amazon and Apple, and yes, even poor little Microsoft, have done with our Holy Metadata from our search and web surfing activities that underpins everything that the NSA has been and is doing today.<br />
<br />
I think the answer to the question on the cover has already been answered. Google is, in various ways, controlling our life, because we allow it. After all, how bad can free really be?<br />
<br />
<b>Footnotes</b><br />
<br />
Hate Google? Microsoft Has Some ‘SCROOGLED’ Goodies For You! -- <a href="http://www.digitaltrends.com/web/google-scroogled-merchandise-from-microsoft/">http://www.digitaltrends.com/web/google-scroogled-merchandise-from-microsoft/</a><br />
<br />
Microsoft video attacks Google's Chrome as surveillance technology -- <a href="http://boingboing.net/2013/11/23/microsoft-video-attacks-google.html">http://boingboing.net/2013/11/23/microsoft-video-attacks-google.html</a><br />
<br />
Microsoft handed the NSA access to encrypted messages -- <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/jul/11/microsoft-nsa-collaboration-user-data">http://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/jul/11/microsoft-nsa-collaboration-user-data</a><br />
<br />
<b>Update</b><br />
<br />
After going back and looking at Doctorow's story on Craphound, I've decided to copy the entire story here and clean it up a bit. Apparently, when Cory dropped a copy on his website, he just dropped a copy-and-paste version of it in plain text, which left broken sentences all over the place. I hate that. So, being the anal-retentive type I am I've copied the story here to give it a bit of a cleaning up, to make it easier to read.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: left;"><br />
"<b><a href="http://craphound.com/scroogled.html">Scroogled</a></b>", by Cory Doctorow<br />
<br />
<i>"Give me six lines written by the most honorable of men, and I will find an excuse in them to hang him."</i> Cardinal Richelieu <br />
<i>"We don't know enough about you."</i> Google CEO Eric Schmidt<br />
<br />
Greg landed at San Francisco International Airport at 8 p.m., but by the time he'd made it to the front of the customs line, it was after midnight. He'd emerged from first class, brown as a nut, unshaven, and loose-limbed after a month on the beach in Cabo (scuba diving three days a week, seducing French college girls the rest of the time). When he'd left the city a month before, he'd been a stoop-shouldered, potbellied wreck. Now he was a bronze god, drawing admiring glances from the stews at the front of the cabin.<br />
<br />
Four hours later in the customs line, he'd slid from god back to man. His slight buzz had worn off, sweat ran down the crack of his ass, and his shoulders and neck were so tense his upper back felt like a tennis racket. The batteries on his iPod had long since died, leaving him with nothing to do except eavesdrop on the middle-age couple ahead of him.<br />
<br />
"The marvels of modern technology," said the woman, shrugging at a nearby sign: Immigration Powered by Google.<br />
"I thought that didn't start until next month?" The man was alternately wearing and holding a large sombrero.<br />
<br />
Googling at the border. Christ. Greg had vested out of Google six months before, cashing in his options and "taking some me time" which turned out to be less rewarding than he'd expected. What he mostly did over the five months that followed was fix his friends' PCs, watch daytime TV, and gain 10 pounds, which he blamed on being at home instead of in the Googleplex, with its wellappointed 24-hour gym.<br />
<br />
He should have seen it coming, of course. The U.S. government had lavished $15 billion on a program to fingerprint and photograph visitors at the border, and hadn't caught a single terrorist. Clearly, the public sector was not equipped to Do Search Right.<br />
<br />
The DHS officer had bags under his eyes and squinted at his screen, prodding at his keyboard with sausage fingers. No wonder it was taking four hours to get out of the god damned airport. "Evening," Greg said, handing the man his sweaty passport. The officer grunted and swiped it, then stared at his screen, tapping. A lot. He had a little bit of dried food at the corner of his mouth and his tongue crept out and licked at it.<br />
<br />
"Want to tell me about June 1998?" Greg looked up from his Departures. "I'm sorry?" "You posted a message to alt.burningman on June 17, 1998, about your plan to attend a festival. You asked, 'Are shrooms really such a bad idea?'" The interrogator in the secondary screening room was an older man, so skinny he looked like he'd been carved out of wood. His questions went a lot deeper than shrooms. "Tell me about your hobbies. Are you into model rocketry?" "What?" "Model rocketry." "No," Greg said, "No, I'm not." He sensed where this was going. The man made a note, did some clicking. "You see, I ask because I see a heavy spike in ads for rocketry supplies showing up alongside your search results and Google mail." Greg felt a spasm in his guts. "You're looking at my searches and e-mail?" He hadn't touched a keyboard in a month, but he knew what he put into that search bar was likely more revealing than what he told his shrink. "Sir, calm down, please. No, I'm not looking at your searches," the man said in a mocking whine. "That would be unconstitutional. We see only the ads that show up when you read your mail and do your searching. I have a brochure explaining it. I'll give it to you when we're through here."<br />
<br />
"But the ads don't mean anything," Greg sputtered. "I get ads for Ann Coulter ring tones whenever I get e-mail from my friend in Coulter, Iowa!"<br />
The man nodded. "I understand, sir.And that's just why I'm here talking to you. Why do you suppose model rocket ads show up so frequently?"<br />
Greg racked his brain. "Okay, just do this. Search for 'coffee fanatics.'" He'd been very active in the group, helping them build out the site for their coffee-of-the-month subscription service. The blend they were going to launch with was called Jet Fuel. "Jet Fuel" and "Launch" that would probably make Google barf up some model rocket ads.<br />
<br />
They were in the home stretch when the carved man found the Halloween photos. They were buried three screens deep in the search results for "Greg Lupinski." "It was a Gulf War themed party," he said. "In the Castro." "And you're dressed as...?" "A suicide bomber," he replied sheepishly. Just saying the words made him wince. "Come with me, Mr. Lupinski," the man said. By the time he was released, it was past 3 a.m. His suitcases stood forlornly by the baggage carousel. He picked them up and saw they had been opened and carelessly closed. Clothes stuck out from around the edges. When he returned home, he discovered that all of his fake pre-Columbian statues had been broken, and his brand-new white cotton Mexican shirt had an ominous boot print in the middle of it. His clothes no longer smelled of Mexico. They smelled like airport.<br />
<br />
He wasn't going to sleep. No way. He needed to talk about this. There was only one person who would get it. Luckily, she was usually awake around this hour. Maya had started working at Google two years after Greg had. It was she who'd convinced him to go to Mexico after he cashed out: Anywhere, she'd said, that he could reboot his existence. Maya had two giant chocolate labs and a very, very patient girlfriend named Laurie who'd put up with anything except being dragged around Dolores Park at 6 a.m. by 350 pounds of drooling canine.<br />
<br />
Maya reached for her Mace as Greg jogged toward her, then did a double take and threw her arms open, dropping the leashes and trapping them under her sneaker. "Where's the rest of you? Dude, you look hot!"<br />
<br />
He hugged her back, suddenly conscious of the way he smelled after a night of invasive Googling. "Maya," he said, "what do you know about Google and the DHS?"<br />
She stiffened as soon as he asked the question. One of the dogs began to whine. She looked around, then nodded up at the tennis courts. "Top of the light pole there; don't look," she said. "That's one of our muni WiFi access points. Wide-angle webcam. Face away from it when you talk."<br />
<br />
In the grand scheme of things, it hadn't cost Google much to wire the city with webcams. Especially when measured against the ability to serve ads to people based on where they were sitting. Greg hadn't paid much attention when the cameras on all those access points went public there'd been a day's worth of blogstorm while people played with the new all-seeing toy, zooming in on various prostitute cruising areas, but after a while the excitement blew over.<br />
<br />
Feeling silly, Greg mumbled, "You're joking." "Come with me," she said, turning away from the pole. The dogs weren't happy about cutting their walk short, and expressed their displeasure in the kitchen as Maya made coffee. <br />
<br />
"We brokered a compromise with the DHS," she said, reaching for the milk. "They agreed to stop fishing through our search records, and we agreed to let them see what ads got displayed for users." Greg felt sick. "Why? Don't tell me Yahoo was doing it already..." "No, no. Well, yes. Sure. Yahoo was doing it. But that wasn't the reason Google went along. You know, Republicans hate Google. We're overwhelmingly registered Democratic, so we're doing what we can to make peace with them before they clobber us. This isn't P.I.I." Personally Identifying Information, the toxic smog of the information age "It's just metadata. So it's only slightly evil."<br />
<br />
"Why all the intrigue, then?" Maya sighed and hugged the lab that was butting her knee with its huge head. "The spooks are like lice. They get everywhere. They show up at our meetings. It's like being in some Soviet ministry. And the security clearance we're divided into these two camps: the cleared and the suspect. We all know who isn't cleared, but no one knows why. I'm cleared. Lucky for me, being a dyke no longer disqualifies you. No cleared person would deign to eat lunch with an unclearable."<br />
<br />
Greg felt very tired. "So I guess I'm lucky I got out of the airport alive. I might have ended up 'disappeared' if it had gone badly, huh?" Maya stared at him intently. He waited for an answer. "What?" "I'm about to tell you something, but you can't ever repeat it, okay?" "Um...you're not in a terrorist cell, are you? "Nothing so simple. Here's the deal: Airport DHS scrutiny is a gating function. It lets the spooks narrow down their search criteria. Once you get pulled aside for secondary at the border, you become a 'person of interest' and they never, ever let up. They'll scan webcams for your face and gait. Read your mail. Monitor your searches."<br />
<br />
"I thought you said the courts wouldn't let them..." "The courts won't let them indiscriminately Google you. But after you're in the system, it becomes a selective search. All legal. And once they start Googling you, they always find something. All your data is fed into a big hopper that checks for 'suspicious patterns,' using deviation from statistical norms to nail you."<br />
<br />
Greg felt like he was going to throw up. "How the hell did this happen? Google was a good place. 'Don't be evil,' right?" That was the corporate motto, and for Greg, it had been a huge part of why he'd taken his computer science Ph.D. from Stanford directly to Mountain View.<br />
<br />
Maya replied with a hard-edged laugh. "Don't be evil? Come on, Greg. Our lobbying group is that same bunch of crypto-fascists that tried to Swift-Boat Kerry. We popped our evil cherry a long time ago."<br />
<br />
They were quiet for a minute. "It started in China," she went on, finally. "Once we moved our servers onto the mainland, they went under Chinese jurisdiction." Greg sighed. He knew Google's reach all too well: Every time you visited a page with Google ads on it, or used Google maps or Google mail even if you sent mail to a Gmail account the company diligently collected your info. Recently, the site's search-optimization software had begun using the data to tailor Web searches to individual users. It proved to be a revolutionary tool for advertisers. An authoritarian government would have other purposes in mind.<br />
<br />
"They were using us to build profiles of people," she went on. "When they had someone they wanted to arrest, they'd come to us and find a reason to bust them. There's hardly anything you can do on the Net that isn't illegal in China."<br />
<br />
Greg shook his head. "Why did they have to put the servers in China?" "The government said they'd block us otherwise. And Yahoo was there." They both made faces. Somewhere along the way, employees at Google had become obsessed with Yahoo, more concerned with what the competition was doing than how their own company was performing. "So we did it. But a lot of us didn't like the idea."<br />
<br />
Maya sipped her coffee and lowered her voice. One of her dogs sniffed insistently under Greg's chair.<br />
"Almost immediately, the Chinese asked us to start censoring search results," Maya said. "Google agreed. The company line was hilarious: 'We're not doing evil we're giving consumers access to a better search tool! If we showed them search results they couldn't get to, that would just frustrate them. It would be a bad user experience.'"<br />
<br />
"Now what?" Greg pushed a dog away from him. Maya looked hurt. "Now you're a person of interest, Greg. You're Googlestalked. Now you live your life with someone constantly looking over your shoulder. You know the mission statement, right? 'Organize the World's Information.' Everything. Give it five years, we'll know how many turds were in the bowl before you flushed. Combine that with automated suspicion of anyone who matches a statistical picture of a bad guy and you're "<br />
<br />
"Scroogled." "Totally." She nodded. Maya took both labs down the hall to the bedroom. He heard a muffled argument with her girlfriend, and she came back alone. "I can fix this," she said in an urgent whisper. "After the Chinese started rounding up people, my podmates and I made it our 20 percent project to fuck with them." (Among Google's business innovations was a rule that required every employee to devote 20 percent of his or her time to highminded pet projects.) "We call it the Googlecleaner. It goes deep into the database and statistically normalizes you. Your searches, your Gmail histograms, your browsing patterns. All of it. Greg, I can Googleclean you. It's the only way."<br />
<br />
"I don't want you to get into trouble." She shook her head. "I'm already doomed. Every day since I built the damn thing has been borrowed time now it's just a matter of waiting for someone to point out my expertise and history to the DHS and, oh, I don't know. Whatever it is they do to people like me in the war on abstract nouns."<br />
<br />
Greg remembered the airport. The search. His shirt, the boot print in the middle of it. "Do it," he said. The Googlecleaner worked wonders. Greg could tell by the ads that popped up alongside his searches, ads clearly meant for someone else: Intelligent Design Facts, Online Seminary Degree, Terror Free Tomorrow, Porn Blocker Software, the Homosexual Agenda, Cheap Toby Keith Tickets. This was Maya's program at work. Clearly Google's new personalized search had him pegged as someone else entirely, a God-fearing right winger with a thing for hat acts.<br />
<br />
Which was fine by him. Then he clicked on his address book, and found that half of his contacts were missing. His Gmail in-box was hollowed out like a termite-ridden stump. His Orkut profile, normalized. His calendar, family photos, bookmarks: all empty. He hadn't quite realized before how much of him had migrated onto the Web and worked its way into Google's server farms his entire online identity. Maya had scrubbed him to a high gloss; he'd become the invisible man.<br />
<br />
Greg sleepily mashed the keys on the laptop next to his bed, bringing the screen to life. He squinted at the flashing toolbar clock: 4:13 a.m.! Christ, who was pounding on his door at this hour? He shouted, "Coming!" in a muzzy voice and pulled on a robe and slippers. He shuffled down the hallway, turning on lights as he went. At the door, he squinted through the peephole to find Maya staring glumly back at him.<br />
<br />
He undid the chains and dead bolt and yanked the door open. Maya rushed in past him, followed by the dogs and her girlfriend. She was sheened in sweat, her usually combed hair clinging in clumps to her forehead. She rubbed at her eyes, which were red and lined. "Pack a bag," she croaked hoarsely. "What?" She took him by the shoulders. "Do it," she said. "Where do you want to...?" "Mexico, probably. Don't know yet. Pack, dammit." She pushed past him into his bedroom and started yanking open drawers. "Maya," he said sharply, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on." She glared at him and pushed her hair away from her face. "The Googlecleaner lives. After I cleaned you, I shut it down and walked away. It was too dangerous to use anymore. But it's still set to send me e-mail confirmations whenever it runs. Someone's used it six times to scrub three very specific accounts all of which happen to belong to members of the Senate Commerce Committee up for reelection."<br />
<br />
"Googlers are blackwashing senators?" "Not Googlers. This is coming from off-site. The IP block is registered in D.C. And the IPs are all used by Gmail users. Guess who the accounts belong to?" "You spied on Gmail accounts?" "Okay. Yes. I did look through their e-mail. Everyone does it, now and again, and for a lot worse reasons than I did. But check it out turns out all this activity is being directed by our lobbying<br />
firm. Just doing their job, defending the company's interests." Greg felt his pulse beating in his temples. "We should tell someone." "It won't do any good. They know everything about us. They can see every search. Every e-mail.<br />
<br />
Every time we've been caught on the webcams. Who is in our social network...did you know if you have 15 Orkut buddies, it's statistically certain that you're no more than three steps to someone who's contributed money to a 'terrorist' cause? Remember the airport? You'll be in for a lot more of that."<br />
<br />
"Maya," Greg said, getting his bearings. "Isn't heading to Mexico overreacting? Just quit. We can do a start-up or something. This is crazy." "They came to see me today," she said. "Two of the political officers from DHS. They didn't leave for hours. And they asked me a lot of very heavy questions."<br />
<br />
"About the Googlecleaner?" "About my friends and family. My search history. My personal history." "Jesus." "They were sending a message to me. They're watching every click and every search. It's time to go.<br />
<br />
Time to get out of range." "There's a Google office in Mexico, you know." "We've got to go," she said, firmly. "Laurie, what do you think of this?" Greg asked. Laurie thumped the dogs between the shoulders. "My parents left East Germany in '65. They used to tell me about the Stasi. The secret police would put everything about you in your file, if you told an unpatriotic joke, whatever. Whether they meant it or not, what Google has created is no different."<br />
<br />
"Greg, are you coming?" He looked at the dogs and shook his head. "I've got some pesos left over," he said. "You take them. Be careful, okay?" Maya looked like she was going to slug him. Softening, she gave him a ferocious hug. "Be careful, yourself," she whispered in his ear. They came for him a week later.At home, in the middle of the night, just as he'd imagined they would.<br />
<br />
Two men arrived on his doorstep shortly after 2 a.m. One stood silently by the door. The other was a smiler, short and rumpled, in a sport coat with a stain on one lapel and a American flag on the other. "Greg Lupinski, we have reason to believe you're in violation of the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act," he said, by way of introduction. "Specifically, exceeding authorized access, and by means of such conduct having obtained information. Ten years for a first offense. Turns out that what you and your friend did to your Google records qualifies as a felony.And oh, what will come out in the trial...all the stuff you whitewashed out of your profile, for starters."<br />
<br />
Greg had played this scene in his head for a week. He'd planned all kinds of brave things to say. It had given him something to do while he waited to hear from Maya. She never called. "I'd like to get in touch with a lawyer," is all he mustered. "You can do that," the small man said. "But maybe we can come to a better arrangement." Greg found his voice. "I'd like to see your badge," he stammered. The man's basset-hound face lit up as he let out a bemused chuckle. "Buddy, I'm not a cop," he replied. "I'm a consultant. Google hired me my firm represents their interests in Washington to build relationships. Of course, we wouldn't get the police involved without talking to you first. You're part of the family.Actually, there's an offer I'd like to make."<br />
<br />
Greg turned to the coffeemaker, dumped the old filter. "I'll go to the press," he said. The man nodded as if thinking it over. "Well, sure. You could walk into the Chronicle's office in the morning and spill everything. They'd look for a confirming source. They won't find one. And when they try searching for it, we'll find them. So, buddy, why don't you hear me out, okay? I'm in the win-win business. I'm very good at it." He paused. "By the way, those are excellent beans, but you want to give them a little rinse first? Takes some of the bitterness out and brings up the oils. Here, pass me a colander?"<br />
<br />
Greg watched as the man silently took off his jacket and hung it over a kitchen chair, then undid his cuffs and carefully rolled them up, slipping a cheap digital watch into his pocket. He poured the beans out of the grinder and into Greg's colander, and rinsed them in the sink.<br />
<br />
He was a little pudgy and very pale, with the social grace of an electrical engineer. He seemed like a real Googler, actually, obsessed with the minutiae. He knew his way around a coffee grinder, too. "We're drafting a team for Building 49..." "There is no Building 49," Greg said automatically. "Of course," the guy said, flashing a tight smile. "There's no Building 49. But we're putting together a team to revamp the Googlecleaner. Maya's code wasn't very efficient, you know. It's full of bugs. We need an upgrade. You'd be the right guy, and it wouldn't matter what you knew if you were back inside."<br />
<br />
"Unbelievable," Greg said, laughing. "If you think I'm going to help you smear political candidates in exchange for favors, you're crazier than I thought." "Greg," the man said, "we're not smearing anyone. We're just going to clean things up a bit. For some select people. You know what I mean? Everyone's Google profile is a little scary under close inspection. Close inspection is the order of the day in politics. Standing for office is like a public colonoscopy." He loaded the cafetière and depressed the plunger, his face screwed up in solemn concentration. Greg retrieved two coffee cups Google mugs, of course and passed them over.<br />
<br />
"We're going to do for our friends what Maya did for you. Just a little cleanup. All we want to do is<br />
preserve their privacy. That's all." Greg sipped his coffee. "What happens to the candidates you don't clean?" "Yeah," the guy said, flashing Greg a weak grin. "Yeah, you're right. It'll be kind of tough for them."<br />
<br />
He searched the inside pocket of his jacket and produced several folded sheets of paper. He smoothed out the pages and put them on the table. "Here's one of the good guys who needs our help." It was a printout of a search history belonging to a candidate whose campaign Greg had contributed to in the past three elections.<br />
<br />
"Fella gets back to his hotel room after a brutal day of campaigning door to door, fires up his laptop, and types 'hot asses' into his search bar. Big deal, right? The way we see it, for that to disqualify a good man from continuing to serve his country is just un-American."<br />
<br />
Greg nodded slowly. "So you'll help the guy out?" the man asked. "Yes." "Good. There's one more thing. We need you to help us find Maya. She didn't understand our goals at all, and now she seems to have flown the coop. Once she hears us out, I have no doubt she'll come around." He glanced at the candidate's search history. "I guess she might," Greg replied. The new Congress took 11 working days to pass the Securing and Enumerating America's Communications and Hypertext Act, which authorized the DHS and NSA to outsource up to 80 percent of intelligence and analysis work to private contractors. Theoretically, the contracts were open to competitive bidding, but within the secure confines of Google's Building 49, there was no question of who would win. If Google had spent $15 billion on a program to catch bad guys at the border, you can bet they would have caught them; governments just aren't equipped to Do Search Right.<br />
<br />
The next morning Greg scrutinized himself carefully as he shaved (the security minders didn't like hacker stubble and weren't shy about telling him so), realizing that today was his first day as a de facto intelligence agent for the U.S. government. How bad would it be? Wasn't it better to have Google doing this stuff than some ham-fisted DHS desk jockey?<br />
<br />
By the time he parked at the Googleplex, among the hybrid cars and bulging bike racks, he had convinced himself. He was mulling over which organic smoothie to order at the canteen when his key card failed to open the door to Building 49. The red LED flashed dumbly every time he swiped his card. Any other building, and there'd be someone to tailgate on, people trickling in and out all day. But the Googlers in 49 only emerged for meals, and sometimes not even that.<br />
<br />
Swipe, swipe, swipe. Suddenly he heard a voice at his side. "Greg, can I see you, please?" The rumpled man put an arm around his shoulders, and Greg smelled his citrusy aftershave. It smelled like what his divemaster in Baja had worn when they went out to the bars in the evening. Greg couldn't remember his name. Juan Carlos? Juan Luis? The man's arm around his shoulders was firm, steering him away from the door, out onto the immaculate lawn, past the herb garden outside the kitchen. "We're giving you a couple of days off," he said.<br />
<br />
Greg felt a sudden stab of anxiety. "Why?" Had he done something wrong? Was he going to jail?<br />
<br />
"It's Maya." The man turned him around, met his eyes with his bottomless gaze. "She killed herself. In Guatemala. I'm sorry, Greg." Greg seemed to hurtle away, to a place miles above, a Google Earth view of the Googleplex, where he looked down on himself and the rumpled man as a pair of dots, two pixels, tiny and insignificant. He willed himself to tear at his hair, to drop to his knees and weep.<br />
<br />
From a long way away, he heard himself say, "I don't need any time off. I'm okay." From a long way away, he heard the rumpled man insist. The argument persisted for a long time, and then the two pixels moved into Building 49, and the door swung shut behind them.<br />
<br />
Licence:<br />
Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/us/">http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/us/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-33889628184684008272013-11-22T22:36:00.000-05:002013-11-23T08:48:01.972-05:002012 nexus 7 updates to kitkat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhop70rIXLm7AFBKVXRqcCk8WC2StnAv5m-PjQry1J-KT0JWUnnbfmu2td1_S9R3CZ0ASIByEQiIw_xYqauAu79s5kCysdRmztfvTaPR_tFUlKrRR_dWdkd_mjOyfn6ADQjPQPj/s1600/Screenshot_2013-11-22-18-16-21.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhop70rIXLm7AFBKVXRqcCk8WC2StnAv5m-PjQry1J-KT0JWUnnbfmu2td1_S9R3CZ0ASIByEQiIw_xYqauAu79s5kCysdRmztfvTaPR_tFUlKrRR_dWdkd_mjOyfn6ADQjPQPj/s400/Screenshot_2013-11-22-18-16-21.png" width="250" /></a></div>
My 2012 Nexus 7, which is barely a year old, updated over-the-air to Android 4.4 yesterday. This occurred after a long home commute across Orlando through some fairly heavy (and welcome) rain. When I finally plopped down in my La-Z-Boy and reached for my tablet, I was greeted with a notification that the full upgrade had downloaded to the tablet and the tablet was ready to reboot and install Android 4.4.<br />
<br />
It took around 30 minutes for the installation to finish, but when it was done the Nexus 7 actually looked a bit better and was better behaved than it had been when I first bought it back in October of last year.<br />
<br />
My tablet, which has been discontinued and replaced by the 2013 version of the Nexus 7, has been faithfully upgraded by Google over the past year. The 2012 Nexus 7 first shipped with Jelly Bean, Android 4.1. Since that time my Nexus 7 has been upgraded with every successive release of Jelly Bean. Over the year I've owned it my 7 has been the best value for a tablet I've ever owned.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbLmAfzeamMQDTnWx6w7M9UfFBAefP1lUY1E1mLtmUpT4KuXaeP5IEIqSoC25QtZ-cpSy11MG18LNpxjqZ0bUSPGFvvh21KeDaDY1e5bMcKc49CtRpV8NMAeDqrcTfWoZvBU-/s1600/Screenshot_2013-11-22-18-16-38.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmbLmAfzeamMQDTnWx6w7M9UfFBAefP1lUY1E1mLtmUpT4KuXaeP5IEIqSoC25QtZ-cpSy11MG18LNpxjqZ0bUSPGFvvh21KeDaDY1e5bMcKc49CtRpV8NMAeDqrcTfWoZvBU-/s400/Screenshot_2013-11-22-18-16-38.png" width="250" /></a>I was pleasantly surprised when KitKat landed on my 2012 Nexus 7; I wasn't expecting that to happen as it has been discontinued. I'm sure that the 2013 Nexus 7, with more advanced hardware, is a better, faster tablet. But the 2012 version is still doing quite well, and if anything, KitKat has added new value to this "old" hardware. I don't know if I'll get the 2013 version, but I'll probably get the 2014 version, if and when it's announced.<br />
<br />
It also illustrates why I won't buy another handset from Samsung. I currently own the Galaxy S4, which has the older Jelly Bean, Android Version 4.2.2. Keep in mind that Jelly Bean spans three simi-major releases from 4.1 to 4.3. The only time I've seen Samsung upgrade Jelly Bean was a minor point release from 4.2 to 4.2.2. Samsung was supposed to release their version of 4.3 on 20 November to support their Galaxy Gear watch, an item I have absolutely no desire to purchase anyway. <b><a href="http://www.androidpolice.com/2013/11/18/att-temporarily-pulls-android-4-3-update-for-samsung-galaxy-s4/">The upgrade has been stopped on AT&T due to issues with Samsung's version of Android 4.3</a></b>.<br />
<br />
In spite of the fact I've only had my Galaxy S4 not quite three months, I'm seriously contemplating purchasing the Nexus 5 and putting my AT&T SIM card in the Nexus 5 and selling my S4. The Galaxy S4 hardware is excellent, but the software support is atrocious. I'd rather have native Google hardware than anyone else's if that's what it takes to get reliable Android updates when they're released.<br />
<br />
The only other vendor with this kind of service is Apple. And if I had to make a recommendation, it would be between the Apple iPhone and the Google Nexus line.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-59599558055618082802013-11-17T10:31:00.002-05:002013-11-19T22:20:15.607-05:00a tale of two distributions: linux mint 16 vs. fedora 20<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQX50Uf0-pV8UmNauMKig2y7I5n1900jxtfet4Vy6-1ab8yjDyaQBCEWgxeT3QNfwKiCN-5Fzw2DfyeFET6JR6ds95cniHXpAJiKW9zrRSZSyUD13lzhaeG1q09UME8SjTd0Cj/s1600/mint16_01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQX50Uf0-pV8UmNauMKig2y7I5n1900jxtfet4Vy6-1ab8yjDyaQBCEWgxeT3QNfwKiCN-5Fzw2DfyeFET6JR6ds95cniHXpAJiKW9zrRSZSyUD13lzhaeG1q09UME8SjTd0Cj/s640/mint16_01.png" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Linux Mint 16 RC VM running Java 7 u45, Apache ServiceMix 4.5.3, and Google Chrome 31</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I've installed two more Linux VMs on my little ol' Windows 8.1 notebook using VMware Player 6.0.1. They're Linux Mint 16 RC and Fedora 20 Beta. No need to clog the entry with numerous installation screen captures from both; if you've worked with either Linux Mint 15 or Fedora 19, then there's little if any difference between the two. The primary reasons for moving up to the next release are the software updates.<br />
<br />
I installed both with the Cinnamon alternative desktop. From a <i><u>personal</u></i> perspective I prefer Linux Mint 16's Cinnamon over Fedora's because of Mint's leaner window decorations. When I can change the desktop wallpaper and be done with personalizing for productive use I call that a small personal victory. That happened with Mint, but I still wanted to find a way to narrow the rather large window top, and paradoxically, widen the rest of the window borders to make it easier to grab and resize with Fedora's Cinnamon.<br />
<br />
Having made that observation, I also have to observe that Fedora 20 has the latest tools, specifically <b><a href="http://clang.llvm.org/">clang/llvm</a></b>. Mint 16 has clang version 3.2 (like it has with Mint 15), while Fedora 20 has version 3.3. Clang v3.3 is <b><a href="http://clang.llvm.org/cxx_status.html">C++11 feature complete</a></b>, which is what I'm looking for. While both distributions have gcc 4.8.1, and gcc became C++11 feature complete with the release of 4.8, I'm looking to see if I can move off of gcc and onto clang. My reasons to do so have to do with technology as well as my dislike of gcc politics. Since Mint 16 is a release candidate, it is what it is. I'm going to investigate a sane and rational way to step up to clang 3.3 on Mint 16.<br />
<br />
<b>What They Both Have in Common</b><br />
<ol>
<li>Both distributions allowed the installation of VMware tools within the VM. In the case of Fedora, I had to uninstall the open-vm packages first. All modules compiled, which means that both Mint 16 and Fedora 20 mount the Windows 8.1 host shared folder. This is a Good Thing.</li>
<li>Both distributions have the latest Java 7, update 45, installed. In the case of Mint 16 it came with Java 7 update 25 out of the box, which is not so good, as that's two releases behind the current update 45. I even installed Java 8 build 115 on Mint 16, but Apache ServiceMix 4.5.3 failed to execute under Java 8, which I suspected might happen. I may grab the ServiceMix sources and attempt a rebuild under Java 8 just to see if that works. Otherwise, all my Java tools work just fine on both distributions.</li>
<li>Most of the common packages I checked (with the notable difference being clang) are at the same versions or very close not to be noticeable (again, with the notable exception being clang). So it's a tossup between very specific needs and personal tastes as to which one to choose.</li>
</ol>
This is worth a re-visit when both distributions are fully released.<br />
<br />
<b>Peculiarities</b><br />
<br />
My biggest set of peculiarities was experienced with Mint 16 and Java. As usual I uninstalled Mint's version of Java and installed the Oracle version from the tarball, using the following set of steps:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>cd /</li>
<li>sudo mkdir -p /usr/lib/jvm</li>
<li>cd /usr/lib/jvm</li>
<li>sudo tar xzf /mnt/hgfs/Share/jdk-7u45-linux-x64.tar.gz</li>
<li>sudo ln -s jdk1.7.0_45 java</li>
<li>sudo update-alternatives --install "/usr/bin/java" "java" "/usr/lib/jvm/java/bin/java" 1</li>
<li>sudo update-alternatives --install "/usr/bin/javac" "javac" "/usr/lib/jvm/java/bin/javac" 1</li>
<li>sudo update-alternatives --install "/usr/bin/javaws" "javaws" "/usr/lib/jvm/java/bin/javaws" 1</li>
</ol>
In order to get to the point where I was able to install Oracle's java I had to uninstall Mint's pre-installed Java 7 update 25, which was a two step process. That's because when I uninstalled Java 7 some dependency forced gcj (Java 5 pseudo-Java, heaven forbid) to be installed. When I uninstalled gcj, I finally got rid of everything.<br />
<br />
If you're wondering why the java softlink, it's so I can easily switch to a different release (such as Java 8) for development and testing. The single softlink makes switching dead simple.<br />
<br />
<b>Overall</b><br />
<br />
Minor nits notwithstanding, it's a good time to be working with Linux, at least from the perspective of Ubuntu/Mint and Fedora. And I have a reason for this...<br />
<br />
<b>One Good Reason to Use Linux</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgIvPYeNHmSfvY3cID5unIQg_8PkFPqlLvgCkL-oA2XZ-XhQ8uv8Dla7ixWEEBtaPOIgnKkYXgaULvo62kbuCaVyMVm9SGN1aUgU3YTYDdJbE3McCQLSo_Y8ORGPEFB5bMHEx/s1600/the_nsa_rectangle_car_magnet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgIvPYeNHmSfvY3cID5unIQg_8PkFPqlLvgCkL-oA2XZ-XhQ8uv8Dla7ixWEEBtaPOIgnKkYXgaULvo62kbuCaVyMVm9SGN1aUgU3YTYDdJbE3McCQLSo_Y8ORGPEFB5bMHEx/s320/the_nsa_rectangle_car_magnet.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></div>
<br />
For years I've read five- and ten-reason-articles about why you should dump Windows for Linux. And every time I've read those article <b><a href="http://blogbeebe.blogspot.com/2010/07/ten-reason-to-ignore-ten-reasons-to.html">I've wanted to grind my teeth in frustration</a></b> because they were written by well-meaning but naive Linux advocates who didn't understand either operating system very well and spewed a lot of poor facts. But now I have one singular reason for possibly considering Linux over Windows.<br />
<br />
The National Security Agency - NSA<br />
<br />
I don't trust Windows, and I'm not so sure I even trust Linux. I've thought long and hard about BSD, especially Open BSD, but I don't know if I could set up an Open BSD system to support the kind of development I'm interested in, which includes the latest Oracle Java, Java tools such as Tomcat 8 and Apache ServiceMix, IDEs, and the latest C/C++ compilers. And throw in Google Chrome for good measure.<br />
<br />
I have no <u style="font-style: italic;">critical</u> need for multimedia support, but it sure would be nice to have, not to play back MP3s and ripped movies, but because audio and video are application mainstream. And then, of course, there's the driver support issue. BSD is a huge unknown for me, and I don't have the spare cycles these days to sort it all out and then go out hunting/creating solutions for the important, but missing, bits.<br />
<br />
Whatever, sooner or later (probably sooner I fear) I'm going to have to sort this out. It's not that I feel Microsoft is in cahoots with the NSA, it's that the NSA is lying to everyone and has been secretly collecting zero-day Windows exploits in its ongoing <b><a href="http://www.wired.com/opinion/2013/11/this-is-how-the-internet-backbone-has-been-turned-into-a-weapon/">weaponization of the Internet</a></b>. I keep every tool and operating system up-to-date, all patches, complex and differing passwords, and in general try my best to practice good common sense use of the Internet. But there are a lot scary bad crazy smart people working at the NSA, and I have no doubt that given a half-way reason to do so they could exploit the hell out of my systems and there'd be almost nothing I could do to stop them. And I hate that deep feeling of fear.<br />
<br />
I used to feel that kind of fear about the Chinese. Now I find there are even more of those crazy smart evil bastards working at Ft. Meade. I need a hardened defensive computing posture against just about everybody. And I need it now.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-51316073346136415432013-11-09T19:50:00.001-05:002013-11-16T07:18:39.073-05:00why we'll never have a true digital nikon fm3a, and why the nikon df is wrong for me<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9p1yA2JDkPyGovrIs8D-wfrJ9SwOyjYrYHvblzdUJjyU4IXjYKTVHx0bzJFVNGkGH9W_uGRVDdKsUUU1VXb_0cePhpxQ4GxfjSEOgdV_i00miYxfBIJgSuNRwqADSctdvoe42/s1600/6a00df351e888f8834019b00d0f432970d-800wi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9p1yA2JDkPyGovrIs8D-wfrJ9SwOyjYrYHvblzdUJjyU4IXjYKTVHx0bzJFVNGkGH9W_uGRVDdKsUUU1VXb_0cePhpxQ4GxfjSEOgdV_i00miYxfBIJgSuNRwqADSctdvoe42/s640/6a00df351e888f8834019b00d0f432970d-800wi.jpg" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top view: Nikon Df vs. Nikon FM3a (via <a href="http://theonlinephotographer.typepad.com/the_online_photographer/2013/11/the-ideal-retro-camera.html"><b>TheOnlinePhotographer</b></a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I came across this scale comparison on the Internet's today. In one simple picture it summed up why the Nikon Df isn't the digital FM3a so many want it to be. It also illustrates in part why (outside of the price) I won't purchase the Df.<br />
<br />
If you look at the top plates of both cameras, you can see the top plate outline of the FM3a literally sticking up from the Df body. The Nikon Df is much deeper than the FM3a from the front (the lens mount) to back (the LCD).<br />
<br />
What we have here is an odd-ball digital camera design that appears to have bits and pieces of the FM3a stuck on it like a collection of spare parts someone had lying around at the time.<br />
<br />
When old people like me say they want a digital Nikon FM3a (or in my particular case, a digital Olympus OM-1), we want the <u><i>film sized body</i></u> with a same-sized <u><i>digital sensor</i></u> replacing 35mm film. And as the Nikon Df illustrates so eloquently, that won't happen, at least not with this version of Nikon technology.<br />
<br />
If you're wondering why the Df is so deep compared to the FM3a, it's because of the thickness of the sensor with its filter (AA or not), attached to a circuit board, and in turn probably attached to some sort of heat piping to pull heat away from the sensor. Add the LCD on the back of the camera, and you've got a fairly thick camera.<br />
<br />
The only way to get around this kind of thickness is to create a new mount that has a shorter flange-to-sensor distance than classic film designs, and in the process remove the reflex mirror. Now you have what Olympus, Panasonic, and especially Sony, have created. In fact if you look at the new Sony α7/α7R from the top, it echoes the same <u><i>flange to camera back distance</i></u> (not flange to film surface distance) that many classic film cameras have, such as the Nikon FM3a, Olympus OM-1, and the Minolta SRT-100 series.<br />
<br />
When you go to the trouble of creating a digital equivalent to film cameras based on size as well as the use of a 24x36mm frame size, then you have to make some hard engineering choices that in the end force you to create a new mount and subsequent new lens formulations. Like Sony is doing right now with the α7 pair of cameras.<br />
<br />
The Nikon Df isn't a poor camera like some that have been released in the past (such as Sigma's SD1 APS-C DSLR, <a href="http://www.luminous-landscape.com/reviews/cameras/sigma_sd1_review.shtml"><b>originally introduced at the ludicrous price of $9,700</b></a>). It's just not what some purists like me had in mind for this type of camera.<br />
<br />
The Nikon Df is the clearest illustration yet of why you can't go home again to 35mm film-sized cameras with OVFs, reflex mirrors, and have 35mm sized digital sensors. I've always realized this in the back of my mind, which was why I haven't been crying out with the rest of the Internet for a "true" digital OM-1. And why I was more than happy when I purchased my E-M5, which, while a little smaller, is pretty close to the OM-1 in physical size.<br />
<br />
From my experiences with 4/3rds and APS-C size sensors (E-M5 and NEX 5N, respectively), current digital technology is exceeding older 35mm film in quality by a wide margin. With the lenses I can get for either µ4:3rds or APS-C E-mount I've made a complete transition from 35mm film to digital, and for me there's no need to look back. The Nikon Df is Nikon's fan's attempt to have it all; the same svelte 35mm film camera married to today's Nikon digital sensor technology on the F mount, and it isn't going to happen. Certainly not at the relatively low price of $2,799 MSRP. If you want that kind of <u><i>physically small</i></u> camera, then invest in one of the mirrorless cameras from Fuji, Olympus, Panasonic, Samsung or Sony, and move on.<br />
<br />
Why is the Df wrong for me?<br />
<ul>
<li>First is the price: at $2,750 body only, it sits too close to a Nikon D800 and too far away from a far more affordable Nikon D610. I understand the D4 sensor is in the body, and as Thom Hogan explained, the D4 16MP sensor is a high quality sensor and 16MP is better for older lenses. I buy the argument, but not the price, because:</li>
<li>It has a single SDXC card in the same slot as the battery. Every <u><i>other</i></u> FX camera has its card<u><b>s</b></u> (two) behind a separate side door for easy access, except the Df. Having the card in the battery compartment is a feature you find in budget digital cameras, not a nearly $3,000 Nikon DSLR.</li>
<li>The general look of the body. At the very least they could have simply pulled the rear edges of the top plate back to line up with the rest of the rear. They could have spent a bit more time eliminating a few lines. I read somewhere they spent nearly four years designing this camera. I think they spent too much time for what they produced.</li>
<li>The dials themselves. This is as much aesthetics as practicality, but look at the FM3a dials with white lettering on a black background. I much prefer the lettering on the older camera dials, especially for these tired old eyes. Yes, I know you can get it in all black and that solves that problem. I actually prefer the older chrome designs. It's the modern cameras I prefer all-black because anything else looks so bad.</li>
<li>An external interface that's just too busy. It's a complaint I level at Olympus and Panasonic as well. Too many dials, too many buttons. Older cameras were fun because it took very little to set them up and use them. This, again, may be the nature of the digital beast, but I strongly believe we've gone too far with all the controls we've layered on our digital cameras. We really do need to dial (no pun intended) a lot of this back, on just about all our cameras.</li>
</ul>
Other issues like a lack of video are irrelevant. I've realized that if I want to shoot video then perhaps I should buy a camera better suited to just shooting video. Right now I've been studying the <a href="http://www.blackmagicdesign.com/products"><b>Blackmagic Design video cameras</b></a> that are aimed specifically at shooting video with the µ4:3rds lenses I currently have. I'm horrified at all the external junk you have to buy and attach to all of today's video-capable DSLRs to supposedly record "good" video (like Zacuto). For that kind of money I'd rather buy a Black Magic body, and keep the change.<br />
<br />
And for those folks who believe it's just a small matter of firmware, it isn't. Today's video requires support in silicon (usually a co-processor built into the camera's SoC) as well as some hefty firmware to support it, and oh, by the way, a license fee (tax) to be paid on every device. Modern digital video ain't free and it ain't cheap.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906299.post-14374779751978743482013-11-07T20:05:00.002-05:002013-11-07T20:16:58.766-05:00cat-in-a-box channels greta garbo<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAcPb5rzRYb6EIpiNgrkmE4Fg8x-rJhSSeTRh1AL9jesQBwzxqUlOCR_jVceo8bZfJ0MdUFncyk4UsQsXfoV9iHmwKP0T4K_keNVVwbLWnMMYOEEUr0_sm69IvSsI1vFWjlTzW/s1600/P1000727-Edit-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAcPb5rzRYb6EIpiNgrkmE4Fg8x-rJhSSeTRh1AL9jesQBwzxqUlOCR_jVceo8bZfJ0MdUFncyk4UsQsXfoV9iHmwKP0T4K_keNVVwbLWnMMYOEEUr0_sm69IvSsI1vFWjlTzW/s400/P1000727-Edit-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing in an open box...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQOzFKsD80NXSIYgDw1ZeRgNnoJE0p5lv9rF1SJTE_62rE-pg6ZMXb3dnAF-F7-oLihyphenhyphenmzONvsryHwlRXIuITFGsl_JsiSWn2qXOleBSuwS4-G7SSdh-TF4T9jkYkzSTYWccT/s1600/P1000720-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQOzFKsD80NXSIYgDw1ZeRgNnoJE0p5lv9rF1SJTE_62rE-pg6ZMXb3dnAF-F7-oLihyphenhyphenmzONvsryHwlRXIuITFGsl_JsiSWn2qXOleBSuwS4-G7SSdh-TF4T9jkYkzSTYWccT/s400/P1000720-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh dear, I've been spotted!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cC64xPnlOB3C1Ixgvnq2ZGHODcwYkzzBdgwNQhAyjbq0faA0jQxiazWSfJNPyGcZXWOj5ap8Q7rDTKC-BW7_rbywa-DymuyURaEnQWR6oOvp_IQOFyyyiI0xtNrPKvMABqi4/s1600/P1000731-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cC64xPnlOB3C1Ixgvnq2ZGHODcwYkzzBdgwNQhAyjbq0faA0jQxiazWSfJNPyGcZXWOj5ap8Q7rDTKC-BW7_rbywa-DymuyURaEnQWR6oOvp_IQOFyyyiI0xtNrPKvMABqi4/s400/P1000731-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I want to be alone...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So I'm sitting at my computer, when I start to notice a racket in back. I ignore it for a while until I hear a load "thump!", as if something had been dropped on the floor, followed by a lot of loud rattling. I turn around and see Lucy in the box just having a grand old time, rolling around and rattling that box a good one. I grab the GX1 and snap a few shots before she notices me and the camera, then leaps out and back into her chair (which used to be my chair before she decided it was her chair).<br />
<br />
Just like caring for Katie my black Lab taught me about dogs, caring for Lucy is teaching me about cats. She finds me fascinating, as I do her. And she expresses great affection and love toward me without coaxing. I try to return the affection and love, but she is a cat, and she takes a bat at me on occasion, although I think that's just her being playful. She always has her claws in when she does that.<br />
<br />
She sits next to me during the evening in her chair while I sit in mine. When it's time to go to sleep she comes and rubs around my feet and ankles, then when I finally get the hint and go back to bed she leads the two of us. How could anyone be cruel to such little creatures, but then, I have her because her original owners turned her out...<br />
<br />
Panasonic GX1 with Panasonic 14mm. Post in LR 5.2 (cropped 1:1) and Silver Efex Pro 2, Film Noir 1 filter, adjusted and sepia toned. They are blurry and grainy and heavily contrast, and the edging came with the filter. And I love the way they look. I'm after essence and emotion, not super-sharp perfectly exposed technique only photographs. Photographically I'm after the kind of look you get with sanguine Conté crayon on medium tooth drawing paper. So grain doesn't bother me.Billhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06749942763035029635noreply@blogger.com2