Have another look at the world

Must be purty awful out there in Arizona, having to deal with all them iggnernt, uneddicated furriners:

Recently, the Maricopa County Attorney’s Office alleged Briseira Torres, a shy, 31-year-old single mom from Glendale, was here illegally and that Briseira Torres was not her real name.

She was accused of three counts of forgery, in part because her driver’s license had her real name on it, which the MCAO thought was bogus. Following her arrest, she was held without bond in Estrella Jail for 4½ months.

Seems that Torres, as a teenager, had briefly lived with her father in Mexico, and left just enough of a paper trail to confuse the hell out of — well, apparently anyone who’s inclined to be suspicious of someone for having the name “Torres.”

(Via Fark.)

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Must have been a big lunchbox

Stop me if you’ve heard this one:

A Clark County, Kentucky man has been arrested for stealing more than $56,000 in auto parts while he was briefly employed at the Toyota plant in Georgetown, KY.

According to an arrest warrant, Michael G. Kenny, 66, of Winchester, was a temporary employee of the plant between March 19 and May 15 of this year. Authorities said over the two month period, Kenny, at various times, took a total of 160 engine cylinder heads from the plant floor. Once out of the plant, Kenny would place items outside a fence on the property only to return later to load the stolen merchandise into his pickup truck and leave.

Johnny Cash, you’ll remember, predicted this kind of thing decades ago. “Well, I left Kentucky back in ’49 / And went to Detroit workin’ on an assembly line.” Only he snuck those parts out — the larger ones, anyway — in his buddy’s mobile home.

Now they don’t have cars in Ponyville — just as well, given the lack of pavement — but if somepony were to try a stunt like this, the result would be banishment by Princess Celestia herself.

(The preceding has been an effort to link to two entirely different pieces by Cameron Miquelon in the same post, and why not?)

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Whose fault is this?

This sounds really, really impressive:

The pair of quakes that hit near Yorba Linda Tuesday night and Wednesday morning were detected by a new earthquake warning system that was showcased at Cal Tech.

A 4.5-magnitude temblor struck one mile northeast from Yorba Linda at 11:23 p.m. Tuesday. Less than 10 hours later, a 4.5-magnitude quake struck two miles from the same location.

Having sat (uneasily) through a 5.6 in recent memory, I’m not about to mock a 4.5 in southern California. But this isn’t quite as reassuring as it’s supposed to be:

“In the case of the first event (Tuesday) night, here in Pasadena, we got about nine seconds warning before the strongest shaking was felt here,” said Douglas Given from the U.S. Geological Survey. “In the case of the second quake, it was a little bit less … about four seconds warning.” Experts said this prototype system is the first to ever pick up quakes before the ground started shaking.

Out here in Tornado Alley, where the warnings come 10 to 30 minutes before the actual funnels, we’re not likely to be impressed by 4 to 9 seconds — until the ground starts shaking, of course.

“I can’t see any practical use for it in the real world,” declares Bill Quick. Maybe he’s right. Where are our storm shelters? Mostly underground.

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True do-it-yourself music

Beck’s later-this-year album Beck Hansen’s Song Reader will be released in one format only: sheet music.

An explanation of sorts:

Song Reader is an experiment in what an album can be at the end of 2012 — an alternative that enlists the listener in the tone of every track, and that’s as visually absorbing as a dozen gatefold LPs put together. The songs here are as unfailingly exciting as you’d expect from their author, but if you want to hear “Do We? We Do,” or “Don’t Act Like Your Heart Isn’t Hard,” bringing them to life depends on you.

I’m waiting on the inevitable remix album.

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Quote of the week

Sarah Palin stumping for the Sarah Steelman campaignThe very first post I did about Sarah Palin was in early 2007, when she was so far under the radar she’d practically have to wear ridiculous shoes to be seen. The GOP attempted to buy her some sartorial splendor, evidently to negligible effect, since she seems to be transitioning to completely ridiculous outfits:

I’m not sure which thought bothers me more: that she chose to wear this outfit all by her lonesome, or that someone picked the outfit for her and she willingly consented to wearing it. This is not okay. This is not even close to okay. This is not even a trailer in the wilderness on the outskirts of the county of okay. This is somewhere between falling into the laundry pile in your fifteen-year-old daughter’s bedroom and the public speaking component of a VH1 reality show about alcoholic motorcycle cougars with social anxiety disorder.

Of course, in Alaska they dress in the dark six months out of the year, or something like that. As Allison Iraheta might say, “Don’t waste the pretty.”

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Handle with rather a lot of care

As you may remember, the nation’s mobilization for World War II meant temporary shortages, if not outright disappearance, of popular household goods. With nylon diverted to parachutes instead of hosiery, textile mills resorted to alternative fibers like rayon. Unfortunately, rayon is less than ideal for stockings and such:

The durability and appearance retention of regular viscose rayon are low, especially when wet; also, rayon has the lowest elastic recovery of any fiber.

Once in a great while, a manufacturer would actually admit to this:

Rayon hosiery ad by Cannon circa 1942

Says the lovely Susann Shaw:

“You’ve just got to treat Rayon Stockings with extra kindness the moment they get their feet wet! The same Rayons that wear beautifully when dry, are apt to go to pieces if handled roughly in water … obey all washing rules. And don’t ever, EVER put on your Rayons till they’ve had at least 36 hours to dry.”

Miss Shaw herself held up pretty well. This shoot was done in 1942; she died in 2009 at the age of 90.

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See you later, aggregator

Something I’ve always wondered about:

A goal of mine … is to write down my thoughts so that I can get a grip on my life and get my crap together. Speaking of crap, I’m not sure who coined the term “get your crap together”, as if having all of your crap in one big pile is far superior than having crap all over the place.

Well, it works for garbage, as Arlo Guthrie once noted:

Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the side road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of the cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we decided to throw ours down.

Beyond that, I decline to speculate.

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New depths of ingenuity

Let’s see if I have this straight: I can get the two-year product-replacement plan for $6.24 — or I can not get the two-year product-replacement plan for a mere $4.99. That’s what it says, anyway:

Office Depot screenshot

Actually, this is an example of bad design, not of bad faith, but still, my first thought was “Charging people to decline an option! Brilliant in a sick and twisted way!” And when I think with exclamation points, there’s a reason for it.

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The Kings will not rest

The Kings are evidently prepared to endure all manner of indignities to remain in Sacramento. It was a matter of time before the “Power Balance Pavilion” name came off the door, Power Balance itself having gone bankrupt. Now Kings ownership is looking for a new naming-rights deal, and one of the contenders, reports the Sacramento Bee, is Sleep Train Mattress Centers.

Sleep Train! So much for the Kings’ fast break. If they paint this on the floor, and you know they will, first time a Sacramento player gets that deer-in-the-headlights look anywhere in the vicinity of the logo, he’s going to be image-macro’ed into infamy.

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Speaking of spam

From Coyote Blog, an old idea that I wouldn’t mind seeing renewed:

My sense is that this is one of those classic tragedy of the commons issues, which happens when valuable resources are essentially free. I had an idea years ago, that I still like, that charging a tenth of a cent to pass each sent email would shut spam down. You and I might spend five cents a day, but spammers would be hit with a $10,000 charge to email their 10 million name lists, which would kill their margins. Don’t know if there is a similar approach one could take for bots.

Exactly how this would be implemented remains to be seen. I can assure you, though, that back in the middle 1980s, when I was on MCI Mail, which charged 50 cents for every email, the only Spam® we knew was a pork product in a can. (At the time, both sender and receiver had to be subscribers; you could send to someone off the network, but it would be printed at their facility and then sent snail-mail, for a buck fifty. This was still probably cheaper than a stenographer.)

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Further evidence that bots can’t read

Deposited here on a wholly unrelated post, and trapped by the despaminator:

thank you for your advice. I was taking a speech class and you helped me overcome my fears of nervousness.

Expecting me to help with stage fright is like expecting [name of politician] to have principles: not too likely.

A gratuitous link followed, and then this:

I really don’t see how Twitjobsearch have solved any spam issues. Almost every job I click on is from… a job board. Do they let some job boards in and some not? What kind of reputation system are they using to filter jobs? I don’t know how they filter, so I could be off but… for me this is an even worse kind of filtering – at least job boards are transparent on how they control spam (simply by requiring $$).

Okay, show of hands: how many of you are actually looking for a twit job? And what are the requirements? (Besides the obvious ones, I mean.)

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Just a few sips

Ford’s C-Max hybrid people mover, on the standard EPA mileage test, scored 47 city and 47 highway, for a combined figure of, wouldn’t you know it, 47. (Why, yes, this does sound rather like the results for the Honda Civic Hybrid.)

After several years of reading automotive message boards, I am persuaded that there are two types of drivers: those who beat the EPA numbers by a little, and those who fall short by a lot. The few hybrid owners I know tend to fall into the former group; perhaps hybrid drivers, who more or less by definition are seeking better mileage, are a trifle more conscientious than some of us.

I consider my conscientiousness in such matters to be no better than average. I avoid, for instance, so-called jackrabbit starts, though my motivation is less about saving fuel and more about avoiding torque steer, an inevitable consequence of having a couple hundred ponies pushing the wrong drive wheels. Nonetheless, I have beaten the EPA numbers by a little, three cars in a row.

And I suppose I need to ask our Canadian friends: Is it still called “mileage” even if you measure in kilometers?

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Sentimental heart

It is not necessarily a good thing to get article ideas from Zooey Deschanel.

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What does “orange” mean?

Well, yeah, it’s the color of an orange; but if you’re in the business of putting together a dictionary, that definition might seem remarkably unspecific. For comparison, Kory Stamper of Merriam-Webster on “coral”:

[S]ense 3c yielded up the fresh wonder, “a strong pink that is yellower and stronger than carnation rose, bluer, stronger, and slightly lighter than rose d’Althaea, and lighter, stronger, and slightly yellower than sea pink.” Carnation rose was clearly the color of the pinkish flower on the tin of Carnation Evaporated Milk, and Rose d’Althaea was clearly Scarlett O’Hara’s flouncy cousin, but it was the last color that captivated me. “Sea pink,” I murmured, and incurred the harumphing wrath of my neighbor. As he stalked off to find a quieter corner, I wanted to stand up and shout, “I grew up 1500 miles from an ocean! I didn’t know the sea was pink!”

Depends on how early in the morning you see it, I suspect. (Then again, I live 1500 miles from an ocean, and I sleep late when I can.)

Oh, and “orange”?

“Orange” in our Learner’s Dictionary is not a color between red and yellow, as it is in the Collegiate. It is the color of fire or carrots.

Or, presumably, carrots on fire.

(Via this Nancy Friedman tweet.)

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Broadcast news

For some reason, people think I’m in a position to promote stuff. Or maybe they figure I’m starved for content, which might be closer to the truth.

Anyway, this landed in the mailbox yesterday:

My name is James Pelton, I am a member of Indian Hills Community Church in Lincoln, NE.

My church has been looking around for some time for a ‘Text Alert System’ to allow the church to send out SMS text messages to its members cell-phones letting them know about upcoming events, choir rehersals, weather closings, etc. We looked and looked but have not been able to find this kind of a system for less than $50-$60 per month.

So, I have developed my own text alert system. I thought I would check around with other churches and organizations to see if they are in need of a similar system.

Contacting people this way is ideal for churches, especially high school and college groups, as well as choirs and orchestras.

This is not something that I need, particularly, but I’ll post the link, just in case you might. (And hey, people will think I’m in a position to promote stuff.)

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At this point I should probably retire

The last of the six chapters of The Sparkle Chronicles has been posted on FIMFiction. Unless something remarkable happens — for instance, getting promoted to the Featured Box, which seems exceedingly unlikely given its less-than-superior reception — I can pretty much leave it alone from here on out.

Which leads to the next dilemma. This is my first actual piece of fiction, ever, to go beyond short-story length. (Word count: 18,582.) Do I have another one inside me anywhere? I honestly don’t know. I am, for now, putting off the question with a jest: “This is my first story in 58 years. I liked it so much I’m going to do one every 58 years from now on.”

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