I expected this, but it’s now official: the wonderful Convergence convention has been postponed for a year.
I guess I’ll see some of you in 2021!
Related but unrelated: Uncle Hugo’s and Uncle Edgar’s legendary bookstore has been burned to the ground. I regret the loss, but blame it on a few centuries of injustice.
I was in the lab feeding the spiders, and on the may out I decided I ought to check my mailbox — it’s been a month and a half! I discovered that a reader sent me a copy of his grandson’s favorite book, The Bugliest Bug, and mentioned that he “waits expectantly to see the photos ‘below the fold’ on [my] blog.” Whooops. I’ve been trying so hard to avoid scaring away readers with my spider pictures, I didn’t stop to think I might be depriving children of the information they need.
That settles it. The spiders are coming back. In moderation, of course, and always below the fold. I will not disappoint anyone’s grandchildren!
I’m about fed up with the crap going on this year.
A troop of monkeys in India attacked a medical official and snatched away blood samples of patients who had tested positive for the novel coronavirus, authorities said on Friday.
The terrible thing is that every year since 2016 has been an escalating nightmare, and there’s no reason to expect 2021 to be better.
My next house has to have a Viking grave beneath the floorboards.
Hey, maybe my house already has one! Some people believe the Vikings were waltzing all around Minnesota, you know.
I wonder if Mary would object if I took a pickaxe to the basement floor…
The cat weathered my absence for a few days without a problem. She greeted us at the door with her “FEED ME!” yowl.
black cat on a black blanket (she prefers to sleep on dark objects, the better to sneak up on you)
She’s also pleased that she now has two humans to annoy.
As a person who mostly skipped any engagement with comic books in the 80s and 90s (my sons got into them a bit during that period), this short video seems to perfectly encapsulate my experience with them. Rob Liefeld and Todd McFarlane are shown creating a new superhero character while Stan Lee kibitzes. The amazing thing is how Lee zeroes in on the deficiencies of their creation — all flash and glitz, no story and no character — and closes with words of prophecy.
“The kids like it!”
After our long, long drive yesterday, I thought this would be a good day to rest and recover. I forgot that I’d brought Mary home. She was out in the garage at 7:30 fueling and oiling the lawn mower, eager to get to work cutting grass. I was not. I have more sedate plans.
I was up at 6 tinkering with computers. I’ve mentioned before that my Mac is on its last legs, with keys falling out and mysterious errors cropping up now and then, but the price of replacing it was prohibitive, especially since my disposable income, which wasn’t much to begin with, is flowing outwards to deal with legal debt. After a few days in my daughter’s Reality Distortion Field, in which she pointed out that I could get a high-end Linux machine for a thousand bucks less than my Mac upgrade, I decided to tinker. I installed the free Pop!_OS on an old Windows machine that I found intolerable — Windows is an ugly abomination — and brought it back to life. I’m going to work with it for a while to see if my old brain can readjust itself to use Unix instead of the MacOS, which I hate to say has become increasingly ugly over the years. I despise iTunes almost as much as I do Windows.
I’m going to spend some time in the lab this morning giving loving attention to my spiders, who have been neglected now for almost a week. Baby want a snackums? I have some nice flies for you.
I will obey my mistress after the spiders are made content. She has assigned me the task of cleaning out and sterilizing the car we spent 14 hours in yesterday. This may require fire.
I’ve got this working Raspberry Pi with a NOIR camera that we had set up to take pictures, and I’ve got this spider cage here at home, and now I have to figure out how to mount the camera above it at a reasonable distance that encompasses the whole field of view with reasonable resolution. Alternatively, I may have to build a dedicated cage of smaller size that will compromised between freedom of movement for the spider and adequate field dimensions for this camera. I’m thinking ring stands, tripods, hot glue, and popsicle sticks, because I’m focused on cheap and easy.
Mary has been looking at this bachelor pad I’ve been occupying with a glint in her eye. Who knows what she’ll order me to do next?
I’ve got some weekend cooking to do. I’ve been frustrated by the lack of garam masala in Morris, so I’d ordered a bunch of it online. Yes, I have a 5 lb bag of garam masala now, in case anyone needs to borrow a cup of it. I hope Mary likes curry.
I’m back! We drove home from Colorado today, and now I’m all worn out.
You know, the grandparenting thing is great because you don’t have all the responsibilities of a parent, but the bad part is that it breaks your heart to leave, and Mom & Dad won’t let you smuggle the baby home in your luggage.
Last night, I walked in the door of Iliana’s home. She was taken aback — there’s a strange man in the house! Then she figured it out. “Bopba?” she said. Then, “Phone?”. Once she figured out I was just the manifestation of the floating head she sees on the phone, she was alright with me. Also, I brought toys.
This is a weird time in human history.
As I’ve mentioned before, my wife has been isolated in Colorado — bad timing, she was visiting our family in late February, and all the stay-at-home orders started crashing down in mid-March — so yesterday was the day I was finally free of other obligations to make the long drive down to bring her back home. So here I am. Yeesh, was it a long drive. 14 hours from my door to Longmont, Colorado.
I had something to entertain me, though. The dullest portion of the trip was several hundred miles on I90 in South Dakota, which ought to be embarrassing to South Dakotans, since it exposes the soul of the state. It’s nothing but billboards, big ugly billboards, and they’re all advertising garbage. The most frequent billboards along that stretch of highway are:
I’ve been there, once, almost 20 years ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall in the middle of nowhere. It’s a rustic strip mall, splattered with kitsch. No, you do not want to visit Wall Drug, unless you have a burning desire for a plastic key chain with your name on it, or want to buy a bad cup of coffee for 5 cents.
1880 Town. Never been there, but jeez they must be desperate. So many signs begging you to come see their blacksmith shop or kids, come get a deputy’s badge from the sheriff.
The Gutzom Borglum Story. Apparently, he has a museum somewhere near Mt Rushmore. It’s apparently very patriotic. I guess you could say the creator of that iconic eyesore is patriotic, if taking over native lands, appropriating a beautiful natural mountain, and dynamiting it until it looks like a quartet of politicians is a sublimely American version of patriotism. Been there once, too. Never again.
It does tell you what works in advertising, though. It’s not quality, or cleverness, or information — it’s just straight up mindless repetition. Drill your brand into people’s brains until they think it’s only natural to stop at Wall Drug and see what all the fuss is about. It’s awful. I hate it. It’s a blight on a lovely countryside, and I guarantee you that if those businesses didn’t have thousands of signs poisoning traveler’s brains, no one would bother to stop at those pointless places, and they would dry up and blow away. The demand is entirely artificial.
Which makes it amusing that as I got closer to each of them, their billboards started sporting “CLOSED” notices.
Also amusing: frequently, but with nowhere near the frequency of those tourist traps, landowners along the route started emulating the capitalist advertising policies and putting up their own little advertisements: “JESUS DIED FOR YOUR SINS” was popular. The comparison does not help their cause. It seems that repeating a meaningless mantra is effective at getting people to parrot it back, but it also cheapens it. Jesus is the Wall Drug of religion: cheesy schlock for the masses that is ultimately disappointing, building a following on empty reiteration of slogans.
