Or, Another Real Conversation That Really Happened
MRS. CONTAINER: ... I'm just trying to get you to be human.
ME: ... As opposed to what?
MRS. C: A huge geek.
ME: Oh. I thought maybe I could be an awsome robot from the future.
MRS. C: No. You cannot be an awsome robot from the future.
ME: What about Sweden? Can I be an awsome robot from Sweden? Sweden is like the future.
MRS. C: Well... okay. You can be an awsome robot from Sweden.
ME: Hrm. Actually, now that I think about it... Information about Sweden takes time to get to us, right?
MRS. C: Right...
ME: So the Sweden we know is actually Sweden from the past.
MRS. C: . . .
ME: And since it would take me time to go to Sweden, when I arrived I'd be in Sweden from the future.
MRS. C: Okay, time to go to work. Make sure you have your cell phone, pager, laptop, badge, wallet, and lunch.
ME: Lunch... from the future.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Too Big To... Wait, What?
Or, I know I know but still
So I hear that GM is now gonna be mostly owned by the UAW and the Federal Government. Which, I figure, means that the Federal Government will continue to prop it up for years to come. This got me thinking.
First, it got me thinking, how does this happen? How does a company that employs so many people, that comprises such a large fraction of the nation's economy, suck so badly that it's about to fail?
Bench duck is suspicious.
I know, I know. If I were to ask my go-to econ guy George, I'm sure he'd have all kinds of explanations about how big companies can fail just as easily as small ones. But still... Really? Really? Is this really how it's supposed to be? Big company, big payroll, big business... failing?
Which brings me to the second thing it got me thinking: Is this really the kind of company I want to own? Is it really the kind of company I want the government to own on my behalf, with my money? I mean, I'm pretty sure it's not even the kind of company I'd want to work for.
The third thing I was thinking was... about this whole "too big to fail" thing. How does that work, exactly? I know, I know. If they fail, they take down too much of the economy with them. But still. It kinda seems like a lame excuse, if you ask me.
"Too big to fail." It's weak. Weaksauce. You know what I want to hear? "Too awsome to fail." "Too busy eating the competition's lunch to fail." "Too successful to fail." I mean, if I'm gonna own some companies, I want to own the ones that aren't, you know, failing. I dunno. That's just me, I guess.
Finally, it got me thinking about how whenever there's a big union strike, like at Boeing or wherever, I always wonder if, since Labor seems to think it knows better than Management how to run a company, why they even bother having Management at all? Why work for Boeing, if Boeing doesn't know how to run an airplane company? Why not take those union dues, buy your own factory, and manufacture your own airplanes? You know?
Anyway, now that the UAW pension fund owns 55% of General Motors, I guess I'm kinda getting to satisfy my curiosity: does Labor really know better than Management, or not? I just wish they'd try out this little experiment without using my money for it.
My economic prediction: continued growth in the Thumbs Futures market, over the next several quarters.
So I hear that GM is now gonna be mostly owned by the UAW and the Federal Government. Which, I figure, means that the Federal Government will continue to prop it up for years to come. This got me thinking.
First, it got me thinking, how does this happen? How does a company that employs so many people, that comprises such a large fraction of the nation's economy, suck so badly that it's about to fail?
Bench duck is suspicious.I know, I know. If I were to ask my go-to econ guy George, I'm sure he'd have all kinds of explanations about how big companies can fail just as easily as small ones. But still... Really? Really? Is this really how it's supposed to be? Big company, big payroll, big business... failing?
Which brings me to the second thing it got me thinking: Is this really the kind of company I want to own? Is it really the kind of company I want the government to own on my behalf, with my money? I mean, I'm pretty sure it's not even the kind of company I'd want to work for.
The third thing I was thinking was... about this whole "too big to fail" thing. How does that work, exactly? I know, I know. If they fail, they take down too much of the economy with them. But still. It kinda seems like a lame excuse, if you ask me.
"Too big to fail." It's weak. Weaksauce. You know what I want to hear? "Too awsome to fail." "Too busy eating the competition's lunch to fail." "Too successful to fail." I mean, if I'm gonna own some companies, I want to own the ones that aren't, you know, failing. I dunno. That's just me, I guess.
Finally, it got me thinking about how whenever there's a big union strike, like at Boeing or wherever, I always wonder if, since Labor seems to think it knows better than Management how to run a company, why they even bother having Management at all? Why work for Boeing, if Boeing doesn't know how to run an airplane company? Why not take those union dues, buy your own factory, and manufacture your own airplanes? You know?
Anyway, now that the UAW pension fund owns 55% of General Motors, I guess I'm kinda getting to satisfy my curiosity: does Labor really know better than Management, or not? I just wish they'd try out this little experiment without using my money for it.
My economic prediction: continued growth in the Thumbs Futures market, over the next several quarters.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thumbs!
Or, A Real Conversation That Really Happened
Sometimes my frustration levels get so high I start exaggerating for comedic value. So no, I don't seriously think the people responsible for the current economic crisis should cut off their thumbs and mail them to me. But if I did...
MRS. CONTAINER: Yeah, I'm seeing a severe shortage of thumbs in the future.
ME: Right, because I'm going to have them all.
MRS. C: No, I meant you're going to have a thumb shortage, on account of I don't think wrongdoers are actually going to send you their thumbs.
ME: Well, they should. In fact, in the future, there's going to be a massive thumb shortage, because I'll be stockpiling them all.
MRS. C: . . .
ME: In fact, I'm going to harvest so many thumbs, that in the future the human race will evolve to not even have thumbs, just to avoid the hassle of getting their thumbs harvested by my thumb-bots.
MRS. C: . . .
ME [making pinching motions with my thumb and forefinger]: That's what I'm going to call my little crab-robots that go around snipping thumbs.
MRS. C [making pinching motions]: Ironic that they'll need thumbs to do it.
ME: But not opposable thumbs. More like mandibles. Only, at the end of their arms. So really, handibles. That's what I'll call them. Handibles.
MRS. C: Handibles.
ME: Totally. My most popular model will be the Lecter 3000.
Okay, parts of this conversation have been exaggerated for comedic value. But get it? Handibles! Lecter! I feel better already!
Sometimes my frustration levels get so high I start exaggerating for comedic value. So no, I don't seriously think the people responsible for the current economic crisis should cut off their thumbs and mail them to me. But if I did...
MRS. CONTAINER: Yeah, I'm seeing a severe shortage of thumbs in the future.
ME: Right, because I'm going to have them all.
MRS. C: No, I meant you're going to have a thumb shortage, on account of I don't think wrongdoers are actually going to send you their thumbs.
ME: Well, they should. In fact, in the future, there's going to be a massive thumb shortage, because I'll be stockpiling them all.
MRS. C: . . .
ME: In fact, I'm going to harvest so many thumbs, that in the future the human race will evolve to not even have thumbs, just to avoid the hassle of getting their thumbs harvested by my thumb-bots.
MRS. C: . . .
ME [making pinching motions with my thumb and forefinger]: That's what I'm going to call my little crab-robots that go around snipping thumbs.
MRS. C [making pinching motions]: Ironic that they'll need thumbs to do it.
ME: But not opposable thumbs. More like mandibles. Only, at the end of their arms. So really, handibles. That's what I'll call them. Handibles.
MRS. C: Handibles.
ME: Totally. My most popular model will be the Lecter 3000.
Okay, parts of this conversation have been exaggerated for comedic value. But get it? Handibles! Lecter! I feel better already!
Monday, April 20, 2009
Why Crows?
Or, What is the Deal With Crows?
Our go-to reference on crows.
Our go-to reference on crows.It all started a couple years ago, at our local drive-through coffee joint.
Drive-through coffee, by the way, is one of civilization's great little achievements.
Anyway, our local drive-through coffee joint shares a parking lot with a fast-food restaurant, a 24 hour convenience store, and a few other similar establishments. Every morning we'd be down there, getting our coffee, chatting with the proprietors... and after a while, I began to notice the crows.
Like often happens once I get around to noticing stuff, I began to wonder, what is the deal with all these crows? I mean, think about it: They're scavenging the dumpster for hamburger wrappers and sipping dirty, oily water from parking lot puddles. Hardly a healthy diet. Yet there's tons of crows, and they all seem plump and glossy. So clearly this lifestyle must be working out for them in some way.
The more I thought about it, the more interesting crows seemed. I began to notice them more and more. And more and more, I began to appreciate all their little antics and shenanigans. In the air, black silhouettes against the sky, they seemed striking and iconic. Strutting about on the ground, they seemed comical. I'd see them perched on streetlights, sidling up to each other, cleaning their beaks, flicking their wing and tail feathers. Throwing their whole bodies into their hoarse calls.
We started watching crows whenever we could. We'd scan parking lots, cheer them on (quietly, from a respectful distance) as they worked at extracting ranch dressing from a single-serving plastic fast food container. We'd see them walking up and down the sidewalk, looking for bugs in the grass border, or scanning the gutter for who-knows-what crow delicacy. We'd see them harassing hawks along the freeway, or playing tag with each other around an office building. We'd mourn the tragic loss of any small animal struck by a car and dead in the road, and at the same time celebrate the good fortune of whatever crow might happen across such a feast (it turns out we are ruthless in our appreciation of crows).
We started to notice the vast flocks of crows that would fly south every morning, and north again every evening ("crowmmuting", we call it). We realized they must be sleeping in a communal roost overnight. One evening we followed them at dusk to the parking lot behind a shopping mall in North County. As the sun set, the trees in the lot filled with thousands of crows. A hundred different caws filled the air, all overlapping in one huge chorus. Then, as night came on, the trees began to empty, and the crows all moved northwards, across the creek, and into the park.
In additiont to some tennis courts, baseball diamonds, and picnic areas, the park boasted a fairly dense wooded area, which is where these thousands of crows spend every night. At least a couple times a month, we'll get up before dawn, drive down there, and walk the trails while the crows wake up. They'll fill the air with their noise. First by ones and twos, then by the hundreds, they'll rise up out of the woods, and scatter to the four corners of the county, intent on their crow business.
Incidentally, this is how we ended up buying the robot. We discovered that our cheap little pocket camera flatly sucked at taking pictures of crows. Especially moving crows. Especially in poor lighting conditions. So we asked around, did some research, and got a camera that can actually do the job. We just went "crowing" on Saturday. I'll try to upload some of our pictures this week.
Drive-through coffee, by the way, is one of civilization's great little achievements.
Anyway, our local drive-through coffee joint shares a parking lot with a fast-food restaurant, a 24 hour convenience store, and a few other similar establishments. Every morning we'd be down there, getting our coffee, chatting with the proprietors... and after a while, I began to notice the crows.
Like often happens once I get around to noticing stuff, I began to wonder, what is the deal with all these crows? I mean, think about it: They're scavenging the dumpster for hamburger wrappers and sipping dirty, oily water from parking lot puddles. Hardly a healthy diet. Yet there's tons of crows, and they all seem plump and glossy. So clearly this lifestyle must be working out for them in some way.
The more I thought about it, the more interesting crows seemed. I began to notice them more and more. And more and more, I began to appreciate all their little antics and shenanigans. In the air, black silhouettes against the sky, they seemed striking and iconic. Strutting about on the ground, they seemed comical. I'd see them perched on streetlights, sidling up to each other, cleaning their beaks, flicking their wing and tail feathers. Throwing their whole bodies into their hoarse calls.
We started watching crows whenever we could. We'd scan parking lots, cheer them on (quietly, from a respectful distance) as they worked at extracting ranch dressing from a single-serving plastic fast food container. We'd see them walking up and down the sidewalk, looking for bugs in the grass border, or scanning the gutter for who-knows-what crow delicacy. We'd see them harassing hawks along the freeway, or playing tag with each other around an office building. We'd mourn the tragic loss of any small animal struck by a car and dead in the road, and at the same time celebrate the good fortune of whatever crow might happen across such a feast (it turns out we are ruthless in our appreciation of crows).
We started to notice the vast flocks of crows that would fly south every morning, and north again every evening ("crowmmuting", we call it). We realized they must be sleeping in a communal roost overnight. One evening we followed them at dusk to the parking lot behind a shopping mall in North County. As the sun set, the trees in the lot filled with thousands of crows. A hundred different caws filled the air, all overlapping in one huge chorus. Then, as night came on, the trees began to empty, and the crows all moved northwards, across the creek, and into the park.
In additiont to some tennis courts, baseball diamonds, and picnic areas, the park boasted a fairly dense wooded area, which is where these thousands of crows spend every night. At least a couple times a month, we'll get up before dawn, drive down there, and walk the trails while the crows wake up. They'll fill the air with their noise. First by ones and twos, then by the hundreds, they'll rise up out of the woods, and scatter to the four corners of the county, intent on their crow business.
Incidentally, this is how we ended up buying the robot. We discovered that our cheap little pocket camera flatly sucked at taking pictures of crows. Especially moving crows. Especially in poor lighting conditions. So we asked around, did some research, and got a camera that can actually do the job. We just went "crowing" on Saturday. I'll try to upload some of our pictures this week.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Container Spotting: Ships at Sea Edition.
Cosco ship in Puget Sound, from the beach at Edmonds.
Yang Ming ship in Puget Sound, from a vantage point in downtown Edmonds.Crowspotting: Seattle
Went to Seattle recently. Found some crows on the beach. These guys were seriously unconcerned about people, and let me get incredibly close to them while they crowed about doing crow stuff. I think the robot did a pretty good job recording them.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
In Dreams
Last night I dreamed that a high-ranking British civil servant lost his hat on the way to work one morning.
Not any particular real-world high-ranking British civil servant; I don't even think I know any. I imagine they exist, though, and apparently they've populated my dream world.
Anyway, as this civil servant walked the streets of London, his hat was snatched from his head by a fairy. Faerie? He didn't know it was fairy, though, because it was disguised as a very short man. As fairies often are.
Seriously. "A very short man." I woke up from this dream, and that's the best way to describe the impression I had of this fellow. Not a midget. Not a child. Not a shorter than average man. A very short man.
Anyway, the civil servant chased this very short man through the streets of London, trying to retrieve his hat. Eventually he lost track of the hat thief, gave up, and set off towards his office. Then, immediately outside his office, he saw in front of him the same very short man, walking down the street, wearing his hat. He rushed up and snatched his hat off the very short man's head. But the very short man snatched it back, and disappeared once again.
Now very frustrated, the civil servant went straight to the nearest magistrate, and brought charges against the very short man. However, once the magistrate had heard all the details of the case, he refused to take any action, because the very short man doing very important and very secret work for the crown, and must not be interfered with in any way.
At this point, the very short man and his very short wife entered the magistrate's office and returned the civil servant's hat to him. Then they went out to the street, climbed into their limousine, and as the limousine drove off they tunneled through the limousine back to fairyland, where they both returned to their true fairy forms. This part of the dream was animated by the guy who animated MTV's Liquid Television.
Because apparently, in my dreams, MTV's Liquid Television was all animated by one guy.
Not any particular real-world high-ranking British civil servant; I don't even think I know any. I imagine they exist, though, and apparently they've populated my dream world.
Anyway, as this civil servant walked the streets of London, his hat was snatched from his head by a fairy. Faerie? He didn't know it was fairy, though, because it was disguised as a very short man. As fairies often are.
Seriously. "A very short man." I woke up from this dream, and that's the best way to describe the impression I had of this fellow. Not a midget. Not a child. Not a shorter than average man. A very short man.
Anyway, the civil servant chased this very short man through the streets of London, trying to retrieve his hat. Eventually he lost track of the hat thief, gave up, and set off towards his office. Then, immediately outside his office, he saw in front of him the same very short man, walking down the street, wearing his hat. He rushed up and snatched his hat off the very short man's head. But the very short man snatched it back, and disappeared once again.
Now very frustrated, the civil servant went straight to the nearest magistrate, and brought charges against the very short man. However, once the magistrate had heard all the details of the case, he refused to take any action, because the very short man doing very important and very secret work for the crown, and must not be interfered with in any way.
At this point, the very short man and his very short wife entered the magistrate's office and returned the civil servant's hat to him. Then they went out to the street, climbed into their limousine, and as the limousine drove off they tunneled through the limousine back to fairyland, where they both returned to their true fairy forms. This part of the dream was animated by the guy who animated MTV's Liquid Television.
Because apparently, in my dreams, MTV's Liquid Television was all animated by one guy.
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