January « 2012 « Kenny Smith

January, 2012

When ex- isn’t necessary

Twitter is set to censor content to their service in some countries when necessary:

The company announced Thursday that it could start censoring certain content in certain countries, a sort of micro-censorship widget that would pop up up in a grey box on the Twitter feed.

“Tweet withheld,” it would read “This tweet from @username has been withheld in: Country.”

Twitter explained the change in a blog post on Thursday: “We haven’t yet used this ability, but if and when we are required to withhold a Tweet in a specific country, we will attempt to let the user know, and we will clearly mark when the content has been withheld.”

Twitter is growing up. There’s some censorship angst among the commentariat, but people have to remember: Twitter is a business. They’re not in the business of changing laws that we’d find unpalatable here at home.

When you look into the details there is a degree of transparency to the process Twitter is putting in place.

Information wants to be free. People need to speak with other people. This move by Twitter might limit this particular tool in times of domestic turmoil in hotspots, something else will always emerge. Or work arounds will be found. (Indeed, it seems that took just a few hours.)

In short, Twitter could have done far more here, which would have been far less.

This is reckless and frightening:

Hawaii’s legislature is weighing an unprecedented proposal to curb the privacy of Aloha State residents: requiring Internet providers to keep track of every Web site their customers visit.

The bill was introduced last week and a legislative committee met this morning to discuss the bill, which is even more far-reaching than the federal analog.

The legislation was abandoned by its author sometime around that committee meeting:

Rep. Kymberly Pine, an Oahu Republican and the House minority floor leader, told CNET this evening that her intention was to protect “victims of crime,” not compile virtual dossiers on every resident of–or visitor to–the Aloha State who uses the Internet.

“We do not want to know where everyone goes on the Internet,” Pine said. “That’s not our interest. We just want the ability for law enforcement to be able to capture the activities of crime.”

Pine acknowledged that civil libertarians and industry representatives have leveled severe criticism of the unprecedented legislation, which even the U.S. Justice Department did not propose when calling for new data retention laws last year. A Hawaii House of Representatives committee met this morning to consider the bill, which was tabled.

What will they think of next? Brain erasing? Oh yeah …

For decades scientists believed that long-term memories were immutable—unstable for a few hours and then etched into the brain for good. Research now suggests that recalling a memory causes it to revert temporarily to an insecure state, in which the recollection can be added to, modified, even erased. “Memory is more dynamic, more fluid and malleable than we thought,” says neuroscientist Daniela Schiller of Mount Sinai School of Medicine.

That idea, brought to the fore about a decade ago, has opened up a new controversial research area exploring the possibility of deleting, or at least muting, parts of human memory with drugs or targeted therapies. Some experts have found that a drug used to treat high blood pressure works to unseat recollections; others are testing novel biochemical means or behavioral interventions to interfere with unwanted remembrances

The application is still limited in trials, but the implications are fascinating.

Unemployment numbers: This came from Todd Stacy, an aide to Alabama House Speaker Mike Hubbard. The speaker presented numbers showing Alabama’s unemployment percentage diving below regional and national averages. One hopes the good news continues.

(Disclosure: Years ago Hubbard was my employer. Nice gentleman, too.)

I did not ride today. The Yankee pronounced it yucky, and I had no desire to ride in such a condition. (She did though.) Truthfully, the conditions didn’t bother me much, but I noticed my legs were sore before I even put my feet on the floor this morning.

Better to take the day off, I figured. Clearly I have a lot of work to do towards realizing my larger cycling goals. Tomorrow, though, I’ll have a big day in the saddle.

So I worked instead. Emails, syllabi, networking, reading. I do so much reading that someone should write a book about it. No one would read the thing, though. Except me.

The fun reading is fun, at least. Last night I finished Mark Beaumont’s The Man Who Cycled the World. Eyeing a plan of about 100 miles a day, Beaumont started in Paris, rode through Europe, the Middle East, across India and part of Asia. He suffered through the barren portions of Australia, raced through New Zealand and then crossed the U.S. (He got mugged in the States, perhaps making Louisiana as memorable as his experience in Pakistan.) Finally he made it to Portugal, Spain and back to Paris. He shaved two months off the world record.

It is an interesting premise, and a Herculean feat of speed and endurance. The read becomes a bit repetitive. That’s hardly a fault, though. The guy is writing about the most repetitive thing one can conceive: “I pushed my feet around in circles for six months. And, also, saddle sores!” So the intriguing part is the mental grind, and that’s probably one of the hardest things to write about. By the time he reaches the southeastern U.S. his point is made.

There are a few inaccuracies in his recounting, and it feels like he was still writing the thing while trying to overcome the bicycle burnout. The thing that amazes me is how much of his trip he managed to not research, because you think you would devote a great deal of time to that.

I was hoping for more people and vivid descriptions, but he’s an adventurer who wrote a book rather than an author who developed great calves and cardio. If you aren’t intrigued by cycling or ultra-endurance sport this book probably isn’t for you.

Had dinner with Shane and Brian tonight. We visited Logan’s, where they have a new menu. You can gorge on peanuts and rolls and get the marrow of a steak bone along side a sodium supplemented potato, all for $7.99.

I told a joke.

Shane: “Country people don’t say ‘extension’ they say ‘stension’.”

Me: They don’t need ‘straneous letters.

The waitress thought the joke killed. Of course, she was new. Maybe she didn’t know any better.

Samford / Wednesday / cycling / journalism — Comments Off
25
Jan 12

Where I almost define systematization

“We have more audience than ever,” she said. “If the industry actually was dying, I wouldn’t have signed on for this.”

Encouraging news from Caroline Little, the president and CEO of the Newspaper Association of America Foundation in a story about the merger of the NAA and the American Press Institute. The audience has moved to different places is is just moving to different places. We have to move with them, alongside them or, when possible, before them.

The new outfit will “create a dynamic new organization focused on meeting newspapers’ crucial multimedia training and development needs,” according to the press release. The attitude behind Little’s quote is the most encouraging part.

Cycled 26 miles at 15 mph yesterday. It was inspired pedaling, really. Got aggressive through the gears, raced the computer, ignored the lack of oxygen in my lungs and pressed on.

The CatEye computer I received for Christmas has been a great present so far, giving me empirical data to consider. There is a lot of time in a ride to ponder lots of things, including the numbers that pop up on the tiny LED screen. And because of that, and a naturally competitive nature, the CatEye might have been a bad gift. There’s nothing to do but try to top those numbers, after all. So that will be tomorrow.

Today was a syllabus day. Class starts back Monday and there is plenty to design and rework, even for a class I’ve taught before. I enjoy this particular class because it brings in a lot of outside experts to interact with students. That involves some orchestration, of course, and that’s also been a big part of today and, probably, the rest of the week.

Logisitics: the art of moving puzzle pieces into any number of permutations that demonstrates “I don’t have all of the pieces.”

Tuesday / cycling / journalism / links / video — Comments Off
24
Jan 12

Yes warning

As you might have heard, there were deadly tornadoes across the South on Sunday. At least two people in Alabama were killed. As always, the tragedy could have been much more costly, despite the devastation of property. There were, experts now say, at least six twisters in Alabama. The fatalities were low because of the excellent and hard work of the National Weather Service and the local meteorologists.

Only ABC did not get that memo:

ABC 33/40 meteorologist James Spann — the best in the business and there’s no discussion on this — took his national network to task. He suggested Diane Sawyer “get a clue” and challenged her to a debate on the issue. His audience were also indignant, writing first on the local site and then at the ABC homesite, where the chastising grew even louder. Those comments are worth a read.

We live in a dangerous area when it comes to spring weather. December and January are dangerous here too. Storms fall out of the sky. Tornadoes flare up and destroy property and sometimes take lives, but the technology and science now allow meteorologists to give days worth of advance warning. Forecasting that was not available a generation ago saves untold numbers of lives every year.

And so Spann took umbrage. His colleagues at KATV in Arkansas, where other tornadoes touched down, did too.

After today’s social media uproar ABC News decided to interview Spann today. It was scheduled and then canceled and rescheduled. Somewhere in there ABC had to stoop to spinning their own newscast:

“The report that aired Monday was referring to the fact that many families were surprised because they were asleep when the tornado hit in the middle of the night,” an ABC spokesperson says. “‘World News’ will cover the latest on the aftermath of the tornadoes tonight and will clarify the warning and advance forecasts given.”

Not even especially good spin, but there it was all the same.

Their newscast this evening?

Spann wrote on his site that he was grateful for the interview and that the important message about the outdoor sirens was shared, but …

There was no apology, or mention of the botched story yesterday when Diane Sawyer said the pre-dawn tornadoes Monday were a “surprise” with “no warning”. A little odd how you just go from that one day, to a story on how good the warning process was the next day. But, I am not a journalist and maybe that is just the way you do it. Seems strange. I would imagine Diane actually didn’t write that copy, but she will probably think twice about fact checking on lead story intros.

[...]

My frustration with the situation yesterday is shared by ALL of those hard working people involved in the warning process. The National Weather Service, the EM community (emergency managers), and broadcast meteorologists. I felt that these people were devalued and insulted yesterday.

It has been an interesting day in local-national media.

The storms missed us entirely, all going far north. We had some much needed rain and that’s all. We’ll get some more later this week, hopefully without the storms. I’m sure ABC hopes that’s the case.

Beautiful day today. I got in a 26 mile ride at a nice, even 15 mile per hour pace. Now let’s see if I can do that again tomorrow.

Got a lot of work done otherwise, and made a handful of phone calls. More work tomorrow, more emails and reading and some time on the bike. We’re expecting 72-degrees tomorrow for the first time this year. Of course I’ll be riding …

Monday / errands / memories / music / video — Comments Off
23
Jan 12

A do over

Today, I decided, would be the day that I would fix a few things that need fixing.

I should have picked a different day.

So I set out to Walmart, where they have many things I don’t need, but exactly one of the things I do need. (One thing I need but could not get at the store: batteries. This should have been the signal to go do something else, anything else.)

But I did find a specific headlight bulb. The gentleman working in automotive had to unlock the bulb — which cost $7.88 — from the display hook. The cardboard, he said “has some sort of security device in it.”

They’re like currency on the inside.

He did not laugh, and so we know he doesn’t watch movies set in prisons. He was a very nice guy. I’d picked the wrong bulb and he patiently explained the difference between the two and then had to unlock the proper bulb. I learned more about halogen in one box store conversation than I’d ever thought possible.

They did not have the other things I needed, so I returned home to improve my headlight situation. Only I can’t, because I drive a Nissan, which means to get to the headlight you have to go through the wheel well.

There are three rivets that must be removed from the wheel well — and, truly, if you find instructions for headlights beginning with “Turn the wheel all the well to the right” just stop. When you’ve removed the rivets you must pull out a screw that attaches the wheel well from the bumper.

I’m changing a headlight.

You peel back the wheel well. From there you crane your neck, turn your flashlight to anti-gravity mode so it floats in just the right spot and, well, good luck.

This is where the directions diverged from my car’s reality. And I can’t take the entire plastic light globe off. This is important because I have some fancy 24th century headlight that requires a perfectly dry operating environment — because they are more efficient — or it kills the bulb. And my globe has moisture in it. So I have to take it to someone to fix.

I called a dealership about this, and the polite word for this procedure is extortion.

So I put the wheel well back inside the bumper, reapply the screw holding the two together and then insert the three rivets to their mounted position. I turned the wheel back to the standard position and went to the hardware store.

Imagine walking into a place with saws and drills and drywall putty with this playing over the speakers:

I did find the sink repair kit. We have a slow drip in the kitchen. If you hop on one foot and the wind is blowing out of the northwest you can find a sweet spot and stop the leak. Otherwise you’re going to hear a drop of water every so often.

I pick up the set of springs, washers and other things. Having watched a video, and read the instructions, I’m confident this is a quick fix, somewhere in the easy category.

I find the batteries I need that Walmart did not have. I check out.

I return home to the dripping sink and assemble my tools. The first step is to remove the handle from the rest of the apparatus. One allen wrench later and the handle is in the sink. Success! Now the cap assembly must come off so that we can find the parts that need to be replaced.

The cap assembly will not come off. It seems that the water has fused one piece of metal to another. Twisting, turning, banging, spinning, muttering, nothing would set the thing free. I torqued it so hard that I could turn the entire faucet assembly from the sink. This is where you hear your parents voices in your head: Don’t force it.

So the repair kit is going back to the store and I’ll just blame my impressively hard water and the curse of whatever spirits we’ve angered that live on this property. If you’re keeping score:

Thermostat

Shower head

Refrigerator

Dishwasher

Dishwasher again

Cable, multiple times

Garage door button

Air conditioner contact

Two separate minor plumbing issues

The sink of doom

We’ve lived here 17 months.

Finally, I replaced the battery in the key fob to my car. There’s a telltale in the dash that tells you when the battery is low. This is a precise operation. In fact, operation is a good term, because you need to work in a completely sterile environment and operate your Fulcrumbot 6000 with a precise caliper measurement to remove and replace the batter. And, I guess also because my car is a Nissan, it requires a battery that merely glancing at with human eyes “significantly reduces the battery’s charge.”

Having separated the fob, prying free the dying battery and maneuvering the new battery into place with a complex series of electromagnetic acrobatics, I have gotten at least one item off the list. Go out to the car, crank the engine and … the low battery telltale is still on.

Also, I received my third piece of correspondence telling me that I wouldn’t be paid for an article I wrote last year. For a publisher that is apparently shirking their responsibilities while going out of business they certainly are prolific.

And my day was nothing like this guy’s:

The tornado ripped the roof and wall off of half of the the Snider’s home, including their baby’s room. He credits the siren with saving their lives, particularly his daughter’s life.

“If that siren had not gone off, my baby would have been gone,” he said. “The crib was still there, but it sucked the sheets off of it.”

Lucky guy. You aren’t supposed to depend on those outdoor sirens as a warning — they aren’t designed for indoor alarms or to wake up people in the middle of the night, but are rather intended to get people back inside to safety — but Charles Snider will never live out of earshot of one.

Auburn / memories / photo — Comments Off
22
Jan 12

Catching up

There’s an unrelated story below the pictures. Keep on reading.

She’s all rah-rah:

So is she:

Auburn on the floor against Georgia:

They are getting really close to a shocking upset. In their home opener, and posting a season-high score, the Tigers narrowly fell to the Gym Dogs, 195.975-195.600.

I like to think she’s yelling “MERCY IS FOR THE WEAK!”

I mentioned this on Thursday and have received the nod to tell the story on the grounds that it is funny now, but it wasn’t then.

(It was marginally that day, too.)

Just after we got married The Yankee was throwing something into the outdoor garbage cans one fine, sunny afternoon. In that house the large cans lived outside along a brick wall. She walked out the door, bag in hand and around to the large rubbermaid can.

From inside I heard a shriek. Through the window I could see her doing what can only be described as the “Ewww! Ewww! Icky!” dance. The neighborhood noticed.

At least I know she is not hurt, I thought, but just merely disturbed. I walked out to investigate.

“There is something in the can!”

Besides the garbage bag?

“There’s something alive in there!”

It was daytime, so it probably wasn’t a raccoon. But the can was upright, so there was no way to know what was really in there. My lovely bride had not bothered to consider the animal’s taxonomic nomenclature and was no help.

I really didn’t want to lean over the garbage can, find a cornered skunk and get sprayed in the face. I fetched my camera and assumed the outstretched arms, blind shot posture. After two tries I had a picture and could identify the invading critter.

It was a possum, baring his teeth, scared out of his little varmint mind.

City girls.

Picking up the almost empty can I carried him far, far away. Flipping the can on its side — I don’t know if possums can climb slick surfaces — the little guy scampered off, shot her a look and scooted up a tree. I bet he was somehow involved in this.