M, C, to the A

May 07 2012

Ever since the word broke on Friday about the death of Adam “MCA” Yauch of the Beastie Boys, I’ve been playing their music obsessively. I’ve been sad, but also grateful.

If somebody had told me around, say, 1986, that the Beastie Boys would prove to be the most groundbreaking and influential band of their generation, I would have asked them what they were smoking, and where I could get some. At this time, they were known primarily for their first album Licensed to Ill, and the massive hit “Fight For Your Right (to Party)”. It was fun, sure. And I could tell that there was a lot of talent behind the silliness. But I had no idea of what was in store.

When their second album, Paul’s Boutique, appeared in 1989, I didn’t know what to make of it. I didn’t buy it right away; what I heard (particularly the single, “Hey Ladies”) didn’t sound all that great compared to the big dumb fun of the first album. Now, of course, I recognize how utterly brilliant and ahead-of-its-time the album was; but it took years for me to recognize it.

The next Beastie Boys album I actually bought was 1992′s Check Your Head. It served as a major part of the soundtrack of my college years. The music was far more sophisticated than in their early days; in particular, they weren’t afraid to branch out and experiment, or to pull in influences from funk, and jazz, and anything else that caught their fancy. This was the album that earned my respect.

By the fourth album, Ill Communication, there was no question that the Beasties were among the most diverse and innovative bands out there. And also, by this time, MCA was firmly established as the heart and soul of the group. He had become a Buddhist by this time, and his newfound belief had been infused into the band for some time. But the track “Bodhisattva Vow” proved to be the pinnacle of his personal expression within the band; a true 20th-century sutra. Even now, after more listenings than I care to count, I still find something different every time I listen. (And I wasn’t even a Buddhist at the time.)

Over their remaining years, the Beastie Boys continued to produce fascinating, trailblazing music–that also happened to groove harder than almost anything else. Fortunately, I got to see them live in San Francisco in 2004, when they were at the top of their game; the show was every bit as terrific as I was expecting.

When Yauch revealed his illness in 2009, I was worried but not terribly concerned. I was in the same denial that all fans engage in when hearing that a favorite artist is seriously ill. But when he was unable to attend their induction into the Rock’n'Roll Hall of Fame last month, I started to wonder.

And now, of course, he’s gone. And the Beastie Boys, I expect, are over; no announcement has been made, but I honestly don’t know how they could continue.

I’ve spent the weekend revisiting their music. It’s been sad, of course, but I’m also grateful. The influence of this band has been incalculable. So much of today’s rock and hip-hop music grew out of their work. And, unlike so many groups, they never really went downhill; they kept producing interesting, vital music almost until the end. (Not to mention, of course, his vitally important work in raising awareness about the Tibetan cause.)

Thank you, Adam. May your next rebirth be favorable. Namaste.

No responses yet

A Victorian steampunk ditty

Apr 17 2012

And now, the other major bit of writing from my short-lived steampunk/retrofuturism blog, Leaves of Brass: a series of pieces about a popular Victorian song, “The Steam Arm”.

I enjoyed this piece of research, and I’d hate to see it disappear forever from the interwebz. This originally appeared on July 7, 2011. I did it in several parts, but here I’ll combine them.

 

The Steam Arm

From historian of fantastic Victoriana extraordinaire Jess Nevins comes this discovery: a proto-steampunk ballad from the 1830′s, “The Steam Arm”.

Oh! Wonders sure will never cease,
While works of art do so increase;
No matter whether in war or peace,
Men can do whatever they please.
Ri too ral, etc.

A curious tale I will unfold
To all of you, as I was told,
About a soldier stout and bold,
Whose wife, ‘tis said, was an arrant scold.
Ri too ral, etc.

At Waterloo he lost an arm,
Which gave him pain and great alarm;
But he soon got well, and grew quite calm,
For a shilling a day was a sort o’ balm.
Ri too ral, etc.

The story goes, on every night
His wife would bang him left and right;
So he determined, out of spite,
To have an arm, cost what it might.
Ri too ral, etc.

He went at once, strange it may seem,
To have one made to work by steam,
For a ray of hope began to gleam,
That force of arms would win her esteem.
Ri too ral, etc.

The limb was finished, and fixed unto
His stump of a soldier neat and true;
You’d have thought it there by nature grew,
For it stuck to its place as tight as glue.
Ri too ral, etc.

He started home and knocked at the door,
His wife her abuse began to pour;
He turn’d a small peg, and before
He’d time to think, she fell on the floor.
Ri too ral, etc.

With policemen soon his room was fill’d,
But every one he nearly killed;
For the soldier’s arm had been so drill’d,
That once in action, it couldn’t be still’d.
Ri too ral, etc.

They took him, at length, before the mayor,
His arm kept moving all the while there;
The mayor said ‘Shake your first if you dare,’
When the steam arm knocked him out of the chair.
Ri too ral, etc.

This rais’d in court a bit of a clamour,
The arm going like an auctioneer’s hammer;
It fell in weight like a paviour’s rammer,
And many with fear began to stammer.
Ri too ral, etc.

He was lock’d in a cell for doing harm,
To satisfy those who had still a qualm,
When all at once they hear an alarm,
Down fell the walls and out popp’d the arm.
Ri too ral, etc.

He soon escap’d and reach’d his door,
And knock’d by steam raps half a score;
But as the arm in power grew more and more,
Bricks, mortar and wood soon strew’d the floor.
Ri too ral, etc.

With eagerness he stepp’d each stair,
Popp’d into the room–his wife was there;
‘Oh! Come to my arms’, he said, ‘my dear’;
When his steamer smash’d the crockery ware.
Ri too ral, etc.

He left his house, at length, outright,
And wanders now just like a sprite;
For he can’t get sleep either day or night,
And his arm keeps moving with two-horse might.
Ri too ral, etc.

Nevins dates this ditty to 1834-35. He doesn’t give his source (glaring oversight, that; I’ve asked him), but it sounds reasonable. Waterloo was in 1815, of course, and 20 years is more enough time for the battle to pass into the popular consciousness in this sort of way. And, as he says, the 1830′s are right at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, when the first stirrings of mechanization were being seen. (I also wonder if there might be a bit of a Frankenstein influence?)

I did a bit of poking around, looking for more information; in particular, I was interested in what the music might have sounded like. Lo and behold, it appears to have been brought to the US, possibly in the late 19th century, and altered to refer to the American Civil War:

In old Virginia he lost his arm,
Which caused him pain and much alarm,
Toori, loorie, lay.

This book also gives a melody. The verse structure is a little different here, so it wouldn’t be exactly what they played with the original; and there’s no way to be sure anyway, since folk songs have always freely traded lyrics and melodies. But, still, it might give an idea.

Nevins claims that this song may be the first appearance of a cyborg in popular culture, as well as the first appearance of a phantom-limb motif. I’m afraid I have to dispute the first claim. The idea of a soldier with a mechanical arm is very likely inspired by the story of Götz von Berlichingen, who lost his arm in 1504 and had a (quite advanced) mechanical replacement made. Goethe wrote a play about this early cyborg in 1775, predating the song by some decades.

(As for the phantom-limb theme, I can’t find a specific example at the moment, but I would be very surprised if it had not appeared in Gothic fiction at some point during the 18th century.)

Anyway. From what I can tell with my limited musical ability, it appears to be a rather catchy little tune. The book mentions a recording from 1984; I may have to track that down. Good material for your friendly neighborhood steampunk filk band, eh?

UPDATE! I heard back this morning from the good Mr. Nevins. He says his source was a songbook from the mid-1860′s called “The Billy-Cock Hat”, and his date of the 1830′s was based on the impact of steam power and when the song seemed to have appeared.

With that clue, I was able to find this essay on the song by Kirstie Blair, in the Journal of Neo-Victorian Studies (of which I was shamefully unaware). It’s a fascinating examination of the song’s themes of control and runaway technology. It also led me to the Broadside Ballads catalog at the Bodleian Library, Oxford, which apparently has several more copies of the song–a couple of which are dated by the Bodleian to between 1819 and 1844. Still no information about the music or the composer, which is hardly surprising.

But oh well. This is a delightful discovery. I will have to find that recording…

 

(later that day)

I have found music!

This is from Davidson’s Universal Melodist, published in 1853. It sets “The Steam Arm” to another comic song called “The Cork Leg”. It does indeed look like a fun little melody. I also found it in several period songbooks. The last of these sets both it and “The Cork Leg” to a different song called “The King and the Countryman“, which has a similar melody as the above. “The King and the Countryman” goes back to at least 1640(!), and seems to have been a popular melody for comic songs of all kinds. (Meanwhile, this copy credits the song to an H.V. Smith; I’ve not found any other reference to a 19th-century songwriter of that name.)

I also came across a discussion of the song in a rather marvelous journal called Notes and Queries, which contained discussions of all kinds. (It’s the closest thing I’ve seen to a blog on paper; I highly recommend it.) These two bits are from September 22 and October 20, 1888, and are worth repeating in full.

September 22, 1888:

OLD SONG.–Where can I read the words of an old song, which I have not seen or heard since my schooldays, now nearly half a century ago, which commenced thus:–

Oh! wonders sure will never cease,
For works of art do so increase,
No matter whether in war or peace,
For men can do whatever they please.

The song, I fancy, recounted the then recent introduction of railways, steam packets, and possibly the still more recent discovery of the electric telegraph; but, alas! my memory grows no better as I grow older.    E. WALFORD, M.A.
7, Hyde Park Mansions, N.W.

October 20, 1888:

OLD SONG (7th S. vi. 229).–The verse commencing–

Oh wonders sure will never cease,

is from ‘The Steam Arm.’ I distinctly call to mind that it was a great favourite at Vauxhall Gardens about the period of the ascents of the Nassau balloon, now more than half a century ago. This song recounted the misery that attended the ownership of a steam arm that, once set in motion, could not be put at rest; and which the singer demonstrated by the vigorous action of the limb that moved rhythmically to the music. Vauxhall Gardens, even at that period, were fading away, despite the “10,000 extra lamps”; and Mr. Simpson, the Master of the Ceremonies, that singular relic of the past, chapeau bras in hand, had made his last bow. At his death, as I recall, a wicker or wire-work effigy of the man, some thirty feet in hight, was erected in the gardens. This structure, when lighted with small variegated lamps, conveyed an excellent idea of this singular character, and attracted the town for weeks.    T.F.F.

The lines given are, I think (I am certain as to the first two), the commencement of the old comic song of ‘The Steam Arm,’ a skit upon the introduction of steam as applied to locomotion. I have the song, and a copy is at MR. WALFORD’s service, but am at present away from my books and papers.
R.W. HACKWOOD.

Good stuff. And, at last, we have enough for some enterprising musician to recreate the song–though probably not me.

(Thank you, Google Books; whatever would I do without you?)

P.S. Since I just can’t quit, a bit more info. The quote above about “the ascents of the Nassau balloon” likely refers to the flights of Charles Green in the Great Nassau in 1836 (departing from Vauxhall Gardens and flying to the Duchy of Nassau in Germany). So, even if the song is older, it certainly seems to have had its greatest popularity in the 1830′s.

2 responses so far

From the masochism department

Apr 08 2012

Because pain and humiliation are always a good entertainment value.

4 responses so far

On religion, science, and morality

Apr 01 2012

 

I found the above on Facebook the other day. I’m not sure who created it originally (although this is a strong contender). I took it and put it up on Pinterest, and both there and on Facebook it touched off some serious conversation. In particular, several people seem to be incapable of imagining morality without a moral authority.

I’m not going to reprint other peoples’ words without their permission, but I did want to repeat some of my responses in case anyone would be interested.

Well, there seems to be a consensus, across all religions and cultures–including atheists–that murder, rape and theft are wrong. That suggests to me that morality really doesn’t have much to do with religion, and is instead probably rooted in our basic human instincts. (Granted, many of us still do these things anyway, regardless of the punishments. But that also seems to be independent of religion.)

(snip)

I mean, some of the people in this thread clearly believe in God. But if it were somehow proven that God didn’t exist–never mind how that would happen–and that there were no eternal punishments or rewards, would those people suddenly start killing and stealing? I honestly don’t think so.

Another person said that I probably don’t know much about religion. I responded:

I think it comes down to the difference between knowledge and faith.

(Referring to the picture itself.)

That was on Pinterest. Meanwhile, back in the Facebook thread, a discussion that had already been pretty active before I got there continued unabated. All the usual arguments; people talking about themselves or their children being good despite not being exposed to religion, or saying that our instinctive morality is devalued when people insist that it must come from outside ourselves. Others insisted that without God there can be no morality.

Because I sometimes can’t resist temptation, this was where I dove in:

“Without God you have no morality!”

One small problem with that: how do you know what God wants? Now, I know exactly what you’re going to say: the Bible says so. So now, you have another question: how do you know the Bible is a reliable guide to what God wants?

And the answer to that is, you have faith. (I think even the most devoted Christian would agree with me on that.)

So, now I have one more question for you, which I will leave unanswered: Have you ever considered the possibility that you might be wrong?

The last question comes from Peanuts creator Charles Schulz. It was his standard response to anyone who spouted dogma instead of using their brain.

But one person struck me in particular. He insisted that morality came not from religion, but from God… and then proceeded to use the Bible as justification. I imagine the contradiction was quite lost on him. He also said the Bible was true, and offered to prove it, asking if we wouldn’t want to know if the Bible indeed was true.

(Note to religious people using this approach: you can’t convince a skeptic by arguing the Bible’s authority, because that is precisely what the skeptic is questioning.)

(Y)ou say you’ve “looked into it” and found the Bible to be true. But I humbly submit that your faith is so strong that you’ve probably never seriously considered any other possibility.

(snip)

You can prove it? Yes, please do. This oughta be good.

(Not that having “proof” really persuaded anyone, of course. The evidence for evolution is about as clear and obvious as anything in science, but vast numbers of people still don’t buy it.)

At this point, he claimed to be able to disprove evolution using Darwin’s own words, claiming that there was more proof for the Bible than for any other theory; but then he acknowledged (with some insight, methinks) that we could keep bashing at each others’ beliefs and never made any progress. And asked again, if the Bible were true, wouldn’t I want to know it?

My reply:

You’re right, there’s no point in arguing about evolution. Because neither of us can convince the other, because we are approaching the issue from two diametrically opposed directions. You are taking it as given that your particular brand of creationism is true, and I honestly don’t believe that any amount of evidence would convince you otherwise. That’s faith: the belief in something regardless of the evidence.

I, on the other hand, am coming at it from the viewpoint that it’s possible to investigate the way the universe works and to find out what the truth is, without relying on the word of an authority which may have an ulterior motive, or of an ancient book which may or may not be accurate. That’s science–the only method we have for actually figuring out what the truth is. It’s not a perfect system–in particular, it’s impossible to completely eliminate human bias and misjudgments–but it’s the only method we have that seems to work.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with either of these systems, and they can coexist just fine–on the condition that they respect each others’ boundaries. For instance, science can’t say anything one way or the other about the existence of God. It’s not a question that we can directly investigate, and so scientists leave that issue for philosophers and theologians.

But when a religion makes a claim about the way the physical world works, that’s a different story. If you say the world is only 6000 years old, well, that IS a question we can investigate. And if you’re going to make such a claim, then I say you HAVE to pay attention to what scientists say about it. If you don’t, if you just deny all the evidence–centuries of it, gathered from all over the world, and involving at least half a dozen major fields of inquiry–then you’re guilty of the worst kind of intellectual dishonesty.

If you’re going to make a scientific claim, then you MUST listen to what scientists have to say. Simple as that.

To answer your other question: yes, if the Bible were true, I would want to know it. But since it’s filled with inaccuracies and logical fallibilities, I see no reason to take it any differently than any other ancient book. And since, to me, the world is perfectly explicable without it… Well, to quote Laplace, “I had no need of that hypothesis.”

As yet, there has been no response.

(Maybe I don’t really need to be repeating all this, but I think there are some good explanations here of my attitude toward these issues. So I thought I’d share.)

No responses yet

Traveling circus

Mar 18 2012

Well, that was interesting.

This week was the conference down in southern California, for my new job–my first business trip ever. The conference itself (training and updates on the database software we use) went just fine. So, as you may guess, it will not be discussed here.

No, this post will be about the travel itself, which turned out to be a long and seemingly-endless series of disasters.

It all started when I arrived at the airport in San Francisco on Sunday afternoon for my flight to Ontario. Now, SFO apparently has a policy that you have to check in at least half an hour before departure. Unfortunately, I did not quite make this deadline, and so when I arrived at the United desk, they would not allow me to check in. I had to wait for the next scheduled flight–five and a half hours later. I didn’t get to my destination until midnight.

This was unfortunate, but still, it was only an inconvenience (and, really, it was nobody’s fault but mine). Little did I know that it was only the beginning.

Once I landed, I made my way to the Doubletree, where the district had reserved me a room. Now, I had been under the impression that the room had been paid for. But, as it turned out, this was not the case; apparently, there is a state law that bars the district from paying in advance for accommodations, and so I would have had to pay for the room myself and get reimbursed. However, nobody had said anything about this, and so I was not prepared to do so. (No, I don’t have a working credit card at the moment; I canceled it a couple of years ago when they raised the interest rate to an unacceptable level.)

There I was, stranded with nowhere to go, and exhaustion coming on fast. What to do?

After a fair amount of panic, I ended up going across the street to the Motel 6 (which, astonishingly, was by far the nicest example of that chain that I had ever encountered; I can recommend them unreservedly). In the morning, I renewed my stay for a second night, canceled the reservation at the Doubletree, and headed for the conference.

At this point, I was already feeling like I’d had more fun than the trip was worth. But the best was yet to come.

On Wednesday, the second and last day of the conference, I was scheduled to fly out at 6:50 pm. However, that morning, a major front was coming down from Alaska, and San Francisco was getting hit particularly hard. And SFO is prone to delays in bad weather. (My guess is that it’s susceptible to flooding because of its location on landfill right on the bay shore.)

So, at about 11:45 that morning, I got an email that my flight had been canceled–and my reservation moved to about 11:30 the next morning. Which left me with nowhere to sleep.

Naturally, I completely panicked. But despite my frantic calls to United, there was nothing to be done over the phone. So, after the conference was over, I returned to the Motel 6, picked up my bags, and headed for the airport to see what could be done.

As it turned out, I was able to talk myself into a seat on a slightly earlier flight (8:30 am). And, wonder of wonders, I got them to take pity on me and give me a discounted room at the Holiday Inn through a “distressed traveler” program. So, if nothing else, I was at least going to have a comfortable night.

Next morning, after a good dinner, a couple of movies and a sound sleep, I got to the airport well on time to catch my plane. What do you think happened?

That’s right. Delayed. I got to sit. And sit. And wait. And wait. The weather in San Francisco was seemingly not going to let anyone in. I kept checking the FAA weather alerts; they were talking about a two-hour delay, a three-and-a-half-hour delay…

I was well and truly exhausted at this point, of course, and ready to do just about anything to get myself a seat back to the Bay Area. The only stipulation was that I had to be able to get back to SFO to pick up my car. Unfortunately, none of the limited options were workable. Southwest was flying successfully into Oakland, but they apparently have no agreements with any other airlines and so I would have had to pay my own way. I also considered San Jose, but there are no direct flights there from Ontario–and the airport shuttle was $92 to take me to LAX or to John Wayne.

Seriously, if I could have afforded either of those, I would have just rented a car and driven home. So I really had no choice but to sit and wait. Finally, wonder of wonders, they called for boarding at 11:30. We took off at noon, and landed in San Francisco at 1:30. (And, yes, the rain was bad and there was water on the runway, so I guess the delay was justified.) I finally made it home at about 4.

After which I completely collapsed.

So. Lessons learned?

First, I should have been more selective about where I flew, and on what airline. Clearly, I should have taken Southwest out of Oakland. Chalk that up to inexperience; I simply went with the lowest fare Travelocity gave me. But now I know better. (In particular, I’ve relearned just how horrible United is.)

Second, I realize now that I should never make assumptions about how any part of my trip will be paid. Again, inexperience.

Third, I really need to have an emergency credit card. I will take care of that ASAP.

Anyway, I did survive, which is something. I even managed to learn a few things at the conference. With any luck, this first encounter with business travel will be the worst, and it’ll only get better from here.

But really, in the end, I think I should have known better than to set foot once again in the festering hellpit known as the Los Angeles Basin. Every time I go, I have a worse time than before. Eventually, it’ll sink in that I just don’t belong there.

Update: I took video of my landing in SFO. It’s now on YouTube.


 

No responses yet

Your opinion, and my opinion of your opinion

Mar 11 2012

Over at the Whatever a few days ago, the always-excellent John Scalzi wrote a simply glorious essay about the often-expressed lament made by ignorant bigots (usually, but not always, of the right-wing persuasion):

“I’m just expressing my opinion, and I have a right to do that.”

The post focuses on former child star and current toxichristian Kirk Cameron, and the richly deserved mocking he’s gotten lately for his blatherings about the supposed “unnaturalness” of homosexuality. You should go read Scalzi’s post for the whole thing, but basically, Cameron whines that he should have the right to express his ignorant and bigoted opinion without being called out as ignorant and bigoted.

To which Scalzi replies, quite truthfully,

The First Amendment guarantees a right to speech. It does not guarantee a right to respect.

Seriously, go read it.

It occurs to me that this applies just as well to the current furor over Rush Limbaugh’s jihad against Sandra Fluke and the resulting horrified exodus of his advertisers. Limbaugh’s followers, predictably, are screaming “CENSORSHIP!”, like so many do when people take action against speech they disagree with.

But, as usual, they completely misunderstand what censorship is. The First Amendment only binds the government; a private entity is perfectly free to choose what speech it will support.

In Limbaugh’s case, nobody is actually trying to shut him up, least of all the government. What is happening is that he said something ignorant and offensive (and then repeated it, dozens of times, over days), and his sponsors decided as a result that maybe, just maybe, it might not be a good idea to associate themselves with his bigotry. They may be doing it for their own peace of mind, or they may (more cynically) be concerned only with the possibility of losing customers. But nobody is forcing them to make this decision.

Put another way: large numbers of people have decided that they don’t like what Limbaugh is selling, and so they’ve decided to stop buying it. So what you have working here isn’t the government, but the much-vaunted free market.

And the same applies to Cameron, and the Republican candidates, and just about anyone else who expresses an opinion. The public square is a market, too; in fact, it’s the original market. And when somebody opens their mouth, it’s up to the people nearby to decide whether to listen–and to support that speech.

Now what, I ask, could be more American than that?

 

In other news, I’m leaving in about an hour on my first business trip ever, a software conference in Ontario–not the Canadian province, sadly, but a little blob of generica lost in the festering hellpit of the Los Angeles basin.

Fortunately, the airport, the convention center, and the hotel are all right next to each other, literally within walking distance. So I really won’t have to deal with SoCal at all. Which is more than fine with me.

As for the conference itself, it’s about the database software that we use at my work. It’s been very interesting, learning about this stuff; databases are a vast and important topic that, it turns out, I knew very little about. I know more now; for instance, it’s been slow lately, so I’ve spent the time educating myself about SQL. It’s been far more fun than I would have guessed.

So, despite having to spend two days in one of my least favorite places, I’m expecting to enjoy it. We will see.

 

No responses yet

Foolishness and idiocy

Mar 03 2012

Pardon me, but I need to rant for a minute:

Why, in the name of all that’s holy, are the Republicans picking a fight about freakin’ BIRTH CONTROL? That issue has been settled for forty years! Do they honestly believe they’re going to get anywhere with this? What on earth makes them think it’s going to have any effect at all other than making moderates run screaming?

Jeez. Like I’ve said so many times: Never, ever, EVER, assume that you’ve seen the bottom of the well of Republican stupidity. Because they’ll prove you wrong every single time.

 

2 responses so far

Get yer hot links here

Mar 02 2012

Honestly, I’m not terribly anal about copyright; the gods know, I’ve grabbed way too many torrents for that. I think exposure and attention are worth far more than any money I might make from my blatherings–at least, at this extremely marginal stage of my creative career. Far as I’m concerned, I don’t mind if somebody wants to spread my stuff far and wide. (Although, if they sell advertising space next to it, I’d kinda like to get a cut.)

However, I do have to insist on one thing–credit. Having the stuff out there doesn’t do much for me if nobody knows I wrote it, right?

So, I checked my email today to discover pingbacks for two posts I made last year, about Chinese seals. When I looked at the referring site, it turned out to be a blog, ostensibly about Chinese art and culture, that had taken the text and photos from these posts and published them itself.

Without attribution. And one of them didn’t even get the whole post!

(I hate to give them traffic, so I’d really prefer you didn’t click on these links to see what they did. But here you go, if you must.)

Naturally, I was somewhat miffed. My stuff may be priceless, it may be merely interesting, it may be boring, it may be a few drops of mindless drivel lost in an ocean of the same–but, goddammit, it’s MINE.

So, what to do about this? I considered leaving comments pointing out where the content had come from–but I quickly realized that, in all likelihood, the only one who saw them would be the operator of the site, who would probably delete them right away.

Then I noticed that, wonder of wonders, they hadn’t actually bothered to copy the images, but had hotlinked them instead. That is, they simply left in the links, so that the pictures would get pulled from their original location–right here at brianeisley.com.

I smelled an opportunity.

An hour later, all the pictures in my own posts had been renamed and relinked, and the original references pointed to something like this.

So now, anyone who visits those pages will know exactly where the content actually came from.

And the best part? It will probably be a very long time before the site’s operator finds out–if ever. Which means far more people will learn of their thievery than would have from any comment I might have made. A pretty good deal all around, eh?

You know . . . considering how satisfying that was, I think I might have been adequately compensated after all.

(P.S.: Yes, I’m well aware that by writing this, I’m sending them pingbacks of my own. With any luck, they won’t be paying attention. But if they do see it, then they’ll probably take down the pages. Either way, it’s a win.)

 

No responses yet

Anticipation

Feb 21 2012

So, the 12 days since I learned about my new job have been a bit of a whirl. So much to do in preparation.

Finishing up the old job. Filling out paperwork. Shopping for clothes.

Also celebrating. Lots of that.

And freaking out about how our lives are about to change. This is a big deal. I’ve been thinking that I found this job just in time; we were really beginning to skate close to the edge, both financially and in terms of emotional stress. And, now, all of a sudden, that huge burden has been lifted. We’re finally able to make some real plans again.

It’s also occurred to me that I really haven’t been at my best psychologically during this last year or two. I’ve been stagnating. I’ve had so many ideas for things I wanted to do–writing, playing music, learning Chinese–but the truth is, I really haven’t done very much. And it’s been hard to keep up my motivation for job-hunting, too.

We tell ourselves about all the wonderful, creative things we’d do if we didn’t have to go in to work every day–but when we actually have that chance, I think many of us don’t actually do them.

And now, ever since I landed this job, I’ve felt my energy level increasing. I’m obviously going to have less time to do interesting stuff–but I’m guessing that I’ll get a lot more accomplished.

Anyway, I’m rambling. The new job starts tomorrow. It’s going to be scary and chaotic, but I think it’s going to be very good to me. A fine start to the second half of my life.

Oh, and they already want to send me on a business trip, in March–my first ever. A software user’s conference in Ontario, down in Orange County. I’m not crazy about having to set foot in the festering hellhole of Southern California, but oh well.

All right. Enough of this. The future awaits. Watch this space for further thrilling developments.

 

No responses yet

Escape from limbo

Feb 08 2012

Whew.

I am pleased to announce that, at long last, my un- and underemployment is coming to an end.

I had an interview this morning for a position as an educational data technician with the same school district for which I’m currently working as a library assistant. The interview felt pretty good, but I was working really hard not to get my hopes up, so as not to be crushed if they said no. I expected to hear back in a day or two.

A mere four hours later, they called. I got it. Must have made an impression on them.

It’s not a library job, but it is far more tech-oriented than anything I’ve been paid for in the past. And there’s no start date yet, but that’s okay. I’m perfectly happy to wait. (Not too long, though.)

Anyway. I finally have a full-time job. With excellent bennies, even. I think a big sigh of relief is warranted.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I and my honeybun need to go insane with celebratory joy.

 

2 responses so far

Older posts »

  • A freelance writer and perennial student, with an utterly insane variety of densely interconnected interests, carefully plotting his course through the Singularity.

    If you came here via the link from loureedmetallica.com and are looking for my thoughts on Lulu, that article is here. (I moved my site to a new host and the link was broken.)

    Please visit this page to send me a secure message.

  • My profiles

  • Twitter

      Go to my profile

    • Last.fm

      Go to my profile

    • From my library

      Go to my profile

    • Archives

    • Categories