While there's a lot I could post about, doing so won't change much - it would just add to a sea of voices that gets tuned out - or is that "drowned out" - on the regular by the minority, a Sad! state of affairs (I'm still trying to grasp how it's even possible, but yeah, somehow it is).
But after being reminded of this (the Orangado, among other things, boasting he gave the best damn Congressional speech eva!!!1!) I recalled having something to say about that. I watched the entire thing live on TV for however long it took, maybe two hours? Four? Five? It felt that long, because I'm not someone to sit around and watch him because I want to, but because I want to know.
Unlike most people, I'm nearly incapable of misunderstanding him (see word salads that flummox the world getting tossed for yourself) if only because he talks like the neighborhood one side of my family comes from (apparently the poor linguistics jumped the dividing highway more easily than the high incomes ever will - its kinda Sad! what's happened to the other side of Jamaica, Queens) so I figured I might be doing everyone a favor by tuning in, just in case I needed to go and get what he'd said again for other people's sakes.
MM the Trump interpreter, yeah. I get word salad, yo.
So, because mostly I get it, and rarely, if ever, fail to (as awful or completely bs as what I'm "getting" might be/generally is), I wanted to hear what he had to say with my own ears, no interpreting it for me the next morning thankyouverymuch. But no need to worry about word salad: he mostly delivered a canned speech from which he never once deviated nor went off-script. Which tells us a few things:
He can follow - and perform beautifully from - a script (at least, as long as S. Bannon or S. Miller aren't writing it for him. Their speeches would fall flat no matter who delivers them, because no one - except maybe a small subset of his darkest, most extraordinarily cracked followers - wants to hear all that Grim Reaper bullshit, anyhow). Yay!
I mean his performance was lush, it was gorgeous, it would make the showiest Declaration of Independence signer blush with recognition and cry over just how damn good his delivery was. It made some of Bill Clinton's most fiery speeches look like boring little fireside chats. The head Cheeto set a high bar for himself re how to perform, then blew past it and left everyone's expectations in the dust. It was, oh God... *winces as mocking tic comes on* THE GREATEST THE BEST EVER
By contrast, nothing he's said or done in the days before or since his speech has matched a single word he said throughout it. There's only a few ways to go from here:
- Cheetolini is blustery insincerity at its best. He can put on a show (likely for his daughter Ivanka, who likely had a huge hand in the wording of said speech), which should disabuse anyone of the notion he's incapable of thinking and acting deliberately or that he only knows how to react impulsively and without thought. He simply chooses not to think and plan his words and actions out most of the time, finding intellectual laziness vastly preferable to taking the time to learn the issues and act accordingly, from a place of both knowledge and principles. Or even, as he's so freaking fond of saying, with "heart".
- My takeaway: He might be willfully ignorant but he's not stupid.
- If he's impeached and eventually removed from office - as he should be - his public speaking gigs could rack up gagillions until he finally succumbs to his latest McDonald's treat - which I've got pegged as occurring no sooner than 10 years from now. Patience, peeps: I think the tears and prayers of the fundies are what's keeping him alive - it's certainly not the diet, sleep schedule, nor his stress levels.
- He has no relationship with the truth. Saying things he doesn't mean and bloviating oh-so-sincerely on topics he doesn't give a rat's ass about might be his way of jiving, maybe so the Dems - and his daughter in particular - can never accuse him of not saying something they/she wanted to hear, though what he actually thinks and feels is almost inevitably up to the last bidder against his emotional landscape or else up to his own particular whims.
I think I might feel sorry for his daughter Ivanka. He's manipulating her as cleverly as he tries to manipulate the rest of us, but because she's his daughter there's very little she can do (the rest of us can protest, make jokes, call/write/fax Congress - she has little choice but to keep quiet or lose face by admitting she's been wrong about him - which risks losing her inheritance and winning ostracization from the entire line of Cheetolini products, which I'd imagine she'd never willingly endure).
It seems Ivanka has a very fine line to walk: she can be as honest with him in private as she wants (so she says!) but if his public decisions don't even resemble the promises he's made, there's nothing she can do except shrug and move on - or else risk the loss of all she has at stake.
Luckily for her, she can afford to lose ideological battles with her dad. As a self-employed, rich, white, cis-gendered woman, she gets to skirt 99% of the problems the rest of us can often face: racism, poverty, classism, misogynistic effects upon her career and public persona, lack of health care, lack of reasonable housing choices, lack of reasonable child care choices, lack of equal standing under the law, over-taxation - her money, skin color, and apparent sexual orientation and gender identification confers 99% of the protections she needs but would not otherwise have as a citizen of her father's increasingly racist, ableist, classist, bigoted, elitist United States.
So while her dad might pander to her in private and has done so publicly with one grab-ya-by-the-collar-and-shake-ya-
You can't unbullshit a bullshitter - that's the reality all of us, including Ivanka, will just have to deal with.
But today I came home and walked Monty around the block and while I was down by the church to the south of our house I heard an utterly familiar (to me) "breet!" sound that is unlike any native bird. I managed a passable "breet!" response and got an extremely enthusiastic response, so we played Marco Polo until this old grey lady tried to fly towards me.
Her wings are clipped so it didn't work very well, but she's quite well-trained and civilized, so I got her to step up on my hand and walk up to my shoulder while monty had a complete emotional breakdown about not being allowed to eat the little bird, and brought her home. She's now sitting in the downstairs bathroom.
I don't have a list of changes for you yet, but most will fall into the following categories: things users have complained about to support volunteers, things support volunteers have complained about to developers, things denise has complained about not working the way she expects them to (and as we all know, The Boss is Always Right), and things that were printing warnings over and over in the production server logs, making it hard to spot when less frequent, more urgent errors were being printed. Oh, and also all the unused code I ripped out at the roots, which if you notice that, I did it wrong.
To sum up: we are rolling out a bunch of requested changes, so thank you all for your feedback!
If you're new to Dreamwidth and interested in tracking our development process, our commit logs are published to changelog and changelog_digest, and every month or so, one of our volunteers will translate those often-cryptic entries into witty, informative code tours! The most recent one was published on April 1, so we're about due for a new one. Hint, hint.
We'll update here again to let you know when the code push is imminent!
Yesterday I'm pretty sure woofelss followed through with a last-minute plan to meet up with someone we used to hang out with. Thinking the person has been trying to avoid me, I wasn't sure about the plan, but woofelss pushed the idea so I'd do something social. After all, he hasn't picked up any negative signs from that person, and I generally trust him more than I trust myself. We also went to a presurgery checkup earlier that day, and getting out of the DC area took two hours longer than expected this time. So we ended up only getting two hours with them, though they both got to see each other for a few hours before I showed up. That should've been fine, but paranoia isn't easy to control. It ended up being fun anyway--just probably spent more time feeling strong negative emotions before + after the event than positive emotions during the event (if my half-asleep words make any sense). I don't know if it was worth it.
Today, I signed a few documents on what is to be done when I am dead or unable to make decisions. woofelss showed up after his classes and is planning to spend the night and hang around the hospital on surgery day.
Now? I'm exhausted, and I still have more to do. I had to take a shower tonight and will have to take one at about 6AM tomorrow. (Before today, the plan was to leave around 3-4AM, so I just decided hat I wouldn't sleep. Apparently, that's when the doctors who are more aware of my conditions are available. Not sure how I feel about that change. I'll go along with, though.) Then I have take meds at a specific time. Blah, this is starting to look glitchy on my iPPad, so Ill probably just sleep now.
No Sarah, no comfy midriff workout tops for us. Here's Tom Schneider to 'splain it to our pretty 'lil heads:
Yet this is OK - though no one would wear it to a "church", "in-laws", "family gathering" or "someplace more conservative", ie "someplace where men are breathing":
Hypocrites, much? Every woman who uses that gym should boycott and picket it with posters like the one above - to prove a point. To address some of Mr. Tom's so-called "points":
"many folks that read my initial reply to Sarah think I'm some crazy conservative"...Naaaah, why would folks think that? Conservatives "crazy"? Why, that'd be like Trump changing his party affiliation from Democrat to Republi- OK...well, as they say, birds of a feather...
"The problem [note: he thinks there are lots of problems] is in our society we think that comfort means less."...No, "comfort" means "comfort". There's a reason we don't stuff ourselves into hot, restrictive, uncomfortable, bothersome things just to shield the Mr. Tom's of the world from dealing with where someone's sexualized-to-them bits fall on a scale of -1 to Whoa!.
"You could have easily wore a dry-wicking shirt from Nike over your sports bra [..]" In other words, if you don't have the money to buy top-of-the-line workout clothes, don't try working out.
"and been covered up"...Again, the Mr. Toms of the world suffer over how hard it is to not manufacture certain temptations and then blame other people for them, and their self-control is your problem, not theirs, so fix that up for them right quick, and get their coffee light and sweet - thanks.
"we wore the gear in Afghanistan and it got up to 120 at times."...In other words, the Army/Navy/Air Force/Marines paid for you to wear it: troops don't generally purchase their own "gear".
"The problem is, skimpy clothing for ladies and their chest hanging out in sports bra shouldn't be considered workout gear"...yet men in ballet tights, tight little swim trunks and walking around bare-chested is proof of the holy Lord moving amongst us in sacred male form or something, amirite?
"and still worked out in your yoga pants and not been hot"...Notice he's actually predicting what her body temperature in certain workout clothes will be as though he would know and telling her what to wear and not wear? Your tightly outlined butt is alright. Your any-outlined tata is not.
"....Nike makes HeatGear just for that reason...."...
It's not just a classist statement he keeps coming back to, it might be proof that besides being a sexist asshole that he also works for Nike.
"it's just like you wouldn't wear a bra to workout, right?...Wait, now it's *not* a bra? Wasn't that exactly what he was just haranguing her for...wait, it's a shirt, it's a bra, it's a shirtssiere!...(there's got to be a meme in here, somewhere)
"it's no different, but our fitness industry has made it acceptable and think it's OK, but it's really not."
...You know what Mr. Tom, you're right: it's really not OK to run around in those obscene tights, dear little swim trunks and sweet, tartish little Scottish kilts that show off so much of that long, yummy leg, so why don't you and the entire "sports industry" knock it off? You don't want me remembering that you guys have some junk in your trunks because then you'll blame me if something goes "wrong", won'tcha...
But then I'll just turn around and blame you, because the temptation was just too damn much!
In looking through support requests tonight I ran across steve98052, which turns out to be pretty neat, because after five minutes of staring at his username I finally recalled we used to hang out on LJ. Thanks to the nature of his support request, I initially thought he was importing his LJ (but he hasn't, and to judge by things, probably won't be anytime soon) but I clicked through to make sure, only to see an empty DW.
Then I looked him up on LJ, where in fact he's still updating.
Then I checked his friends list, because it's been bugging me for weeks that I had a friend on LJ who's username I can't recall (well, half of it: I can recall half of it, but that hasn't helped) who doesn't seem to be here or there now, but once I saw Steve's name, it occurred to me I think I shared (might have even met this friend) through him. Her and wuchan (also gone) were my closest friends on LJ, and sometimes (OK, I've spent six years in this condition) I miss not having them here.
But this all went nowhere fast. Turns out, checking Steve's friend list, that I probably met him through bob_deloyd, but other than that, this was sort of just a half hour of me chasing my tail. Oh, well.
Steve's support request is interesting, though, and I'm sorry it didn't/probably won't get much attention, because his request (to find a link rewriter in the importer to point internal LJ links to corresponding internal DW links, or to write the code to do so himself, then give the code to DW!) is much needed and HE'S OFFERING TO WRITE THE FEATURE HIMSELF so why aren't we welcoming volunteer baby devs like this with open arms? It seems not having this feature might be stopping him from moving here, which is really not cool.
(Not to mention I could have SO used this feature before my own import occurred in 2010 - I had to rewrite dozens, if not hundreds, of links over the years, post by post, totally and completely by hand, with all the attendant time waste and errors that involves. It sucked.)
Not that he needs the defense, but he's a Silicon Valley (and/or) Redmond WA guy, and is pretty cool all around....which makes me think Dreamwidth can be totally at odds with what I would expect them to want to do, sometimes.
I faint a lot, but usually what that means is I stand up, get dizzy, grab the wall, and have to sit down for several seconds.
This was a complete blackout, fall through the shower curtain, and stay on the floor for quite a while until N had pulled the curtain off me and started checking for a pulse.
It may be the same low blood pressure problems I've had for years: standing in a really hot shower is the sort of thing that leads to fainting.
Nevertheless I'm going back to the doctor.
Anyway, I took the day off because I had an awful headache. Apparently I hit my head pretty hard.
So I did a bunch of housework, got the new DSL modem FINALLY hooked up and functioning, cut down a bunch of stupid elm trees that keep coming back every year, watered all the plants, walked the dog several kilometers. Not much involving power tools.
Greyhound legs look particularly alien.
I went over to the junkyard to get steel for the deck railing and found some drillbits that were more than two meters long. I kind of want one.
Some newspaper blew into the yard. It's had a long journey.
I set up the foundry and did some more casting, just scrap processing.
In doing so I found the last bits of the Subaru engine block I broke up and mostly melted down years ago.
Whilst organizing the workshop I got out the old glass annealing oven. I recently bought a fancy PID controller for it, that'll replace the kind of scary triac-based control system I built for it many years ago. That's the last step I need for the 3d-print-to-aluminum-casting toolchain.
Is this the major source of the UK being awful at providing a safety net at the moment? Or are there other things that play a significant part in exacerbating the situation?
And are those figures comparable? In the UK that 34.4% has to cover the vast majority of healthcare, while in Germany healthcare looks to be largely on top of that - which would have an effect there (Although that would make the overall figures even higher in Germany).
I'm not actually sure how much I trust the figures in this case either. That page has the USA at 26%, whereas the figures here show total US taxation as either 18% (Federal), or 42% (Federal, State, and Local).
*All figures from here.
Both these were basically 2 meters tall.
Two of my coworkers have bought the same model of 3d printer that I have. One printed a tiny crossbow, that is almost entirely a single print: all the moving parts (and there are several) were printed in one go, assembled, relying on flex to enable it to work.
I think it's funny that so far he has printed a fidgeter (a weighted spinny thing) and the plastic equivalent of brass knuckles and a crossbow and a skull. I have printed a testbed for one of my circuit boards, an enclosure for another circuit board, an intake manifold, and motor hold-down brackets. The other guy has printed a klein bottle and another mathematical oddity, related to a moebius strip. We all seem to be quite consistent in our choices, although they are all quite different.
I bought a pipe nipple and cap, intending to weld them together to make a small heavy-duty crucible for melting and casting brass, insofar as my aluminum one is intended for much larger volumes and much lower temperatures. The nipple and cap both claimed to be galvanized steel. I sat them in hydrochloric acid for about 20 minutes and then went to weld them. The HCl did not sufficiently strip off the zinc in 20 minutes: I should have left it in there for an hour.
This is what it looks like when you try to weld something galvanized.
Zinc fumes are bad for you. Avoid doing this.
As it turns out, even though they both claimed to be galvanized steel, the cap was in fact cast iron. I should have tested it before trying to weld it.
This is what happens when you use standard welding rod to try to attach steel to cast iron.
See that big old crack horizontally right down the center of the weld? The cast iron has melted and run up to that point, but because it is brittle, when it cools it contracts and cracks. (Steel is ductile enough to stretch just a little as it cools.)
This is definitely not going to hold liquid brass without leaking everywhere.
I'll fabricate another one later.
This collection of essays was published by Penguin UK a couple of years ago as part of its Great Ideas series. It consists of two long and five short and humorous essays, including the title essay. In "Books v. Cigarettes" he determines that his yearly cost of buying books is less than the amount he spends on cigarettes and alcohol, and argues against those who claimed that the cost of reading was prohibitively expensive for the average working man. Other short essays include a hilarious look at the life of a book reviewer, and his barbaric treatment in a Paris hospital.
The two longer essays make up the majority of the book. "The Prevention of Literature" is a critique of left-wing postwar orthodoxy, which at that time strongly favoured Soviet communism and limited intellectual freedom. "Such, Such Were the Joys", which chronicles his experiences in a boarding school in late childhood, comprises over half of the book. His middle class parents are unable to pay full tuition, and he is allowed to attend the school at reduced fees, due to his academic promise and the expectation that he will gain a scholarship to a prestigious private school—or so he claims. He and the other lower tier boys are constantly tortured and belittled by the headmaster, his wife, and the older boys in the school. He has nothing good to say about anyone there, and you can't help but think that it couldn't possibly have been that bad. His experiences at St. Cyprian's appear to be the genesis for his interest in social justice and anti-totalitarianism, as he expounds upon the lessons he learned during that time at the end of the essay.
This would a worthwhile read for anyone interested in Orwell.