H8ers again

According to various strings hidden hither and yon in the operating system, I’m running Windows 5.1. (You may know it better as XP.) Windows, say the wags, runs the opposite of Star Trek films: the odd-numbered versions are good, the even-numbered versions (like Vista, which was 6) not so good.

Warren Meyer of Coyote Blog complained about Win8 last year:

Like Windows Vista, it is an absolutely awful OS that our company has banned any employee from using on a company machine.

He kept it out of his house, too, until his son needed a new laptop. And now he reports that it’s even worse than he thought:

The system boots up into a tiled mess that looks like some cheesy website covered in moving gifs and viagra ads. To make matters worse, nothing on this tablet-based interface is organized at all logically. The interface is like the room of an ADD child that dropped all of his toys and books in random spots. I am sure these tiles have some sort of navigation paradigm, but it is completely different from any used in past windows versions. I could not, for example, figure out how to easily exit the store except to alt-tab out (there is no exit or quit option and right-click context menus which are one of the great advantages of windows over mac don’t seem to work a lot of the time). Again, I am sure there is some way to do it, but I have no idea what it is and no desire to learn new navigation commands. Perhaps Microsoft intends that one use a gamepad instead of a mouse — I would not be surprised at this point.

There are, I’m sure, third-party tools to avoid this particular pixelgasm, but I’m not sure I’d want to install them on a machine used by a tot.

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This color seems familiar

Once upon a time there was a lad named Orchis, son of a satyr and a nymph, and once at a bacchanal he’d indulged a bit too heavily and forced himself upon a maiden, who turned out to be a priestess. Bad move, which resulted in his being torn limb from limb; after watching the replay, the gods decided to reconfigure the young fellow as a flower.

And a darn nice flower he was, it seems, though I have to wonder how much influence he has on 21st-century Pantone:

Pantone 2014 Color of the Year - Radiant Orchid“While the 2013 color of the year, PANTONE 17-5641 Emerald, served as a symbol of growth, renewal and prosperity, Radiant Orchid [PANTONE 18-3224] reaches across the color wheel to intrigue the eye and spark the imagination,” said Leatrice Eiseman, executive director of the Pantone Color Institute®. “An invitation to innovation, Radiant Orchid encourages expanded creativity and originality, which is increasingly valued in today’s society.

“An enchanting harmony of fuchsia, purple and pink undertones, Radiant Orchid inspires confidence and emanates great joy, love and health. It is a captivating purple, one that draws you in with its beguiling charm.”

Hmmm. Have I ever been captivated by purple?

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Degrees of guesswork

I’ve looked at dozens of wind chill charts, both the old formula and the new one, and they always leave me scratching my head: “What does this really mean?” The answer, it appears, is “Not a whole hell of a lot”:

The weatherman’s favorite alarmist statistic has been around for more than 60 years. Its ignoble history began with a pair of Antarctic explorers named Paul Siple and Charles Passel. In 1945, the two men left plastic bottles of water outside in the wind and observed the rate at which they froze. The equation they worked out used the wind speed and air temperature to describe the rate at which the bottles gave off heat, expressed in watts per square meter.

In the 1970s, the Canadian weather service started reporting numbers based on Siple and Passel’s work. These three- and four-digit values meant little to the average person, however — the “wind chill factor” might have been 1,200 one day and 1,800 the next. American weathermen took a more pragmatic approach, converting the output from the Siple-Passel equation into the familiar language of temperature — statements like “it’s 5 degrees outside, but it feels like 40 below.” What exactly did these phrases mean? The meteorologists would figure the rate of heat loss in watts per square meter and then try to match it up to an equivalent rate produced in low-wind conditions. For example, the rate of heat loss in 5-degree weather and 30 mph wind matched up with the one for minus-40-degree weather and very little wind. So, 5 degrees “felt like” 40 below.

This might make sense, maybe, if we all felt the same way. But we don’t, and frankly, I am uncomfortable with substituting “To me, it feels like …” in the place of actual data. A corrected version was conjured up. Now just imagine why this might not apply to you:

[T]hey geared their calculations toward people who are 5 feet tall, somewhat portly, and walk at an even clip directly into the wind. They also left out crucial variables that have an important effect on how we experience the weather, like solar radiation. Direct sunlight can make us feel 10 to 15 degrees warmer, even on a frigid winter day. The wind chill equivalent temperature, though, assumes that we’re taking a stroll in the dead of night.

This is the current chart:

Wind chill chart circa 2001

Note the formula, which very nearly defies comprehension.

My own quick-and-dirty routine, which I’ve used for at least a decade, seems, if Wikipedia is to be believed, to have an official name: the McMillan Coefficient. Take the temperature in degrees Fahrenheit, subtract the wind speed in miles per hour. If it’s 25° out and you have a 10-mph wind, it’s gonna feel like fifteen.

Coming this summer, maybe: why the heat index also sucks.

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Reverse that scoop

“Graphic necklines,” said InStyle (2/14, page 100), and asked “Are you ready to dip?”

This is evidently the inverse of the classic sweetheart neckline:

Dakota Fanning in Valentino

Valentino has worked well for Dakota Fanning over the years, but this may be overdoing — or pretending to be overdoing — that whole “modesty” bit.

God (or Saks) only knows what the dress (from the fall ’13 collection) cost, but the shoes, also from Valentino, can be had for a mere $895. Stylebop says it’s a kitten heel, but if so, that’s a damn big cat.

(With thanks to Because I Am Fabulous.)

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Nanoe, nanoe

With any hair dryer, the operative syllable is “dry”; that’s what it does to your hair, and that’s also what it does to your hair, if you know what I mean.

Well, delete “any,” and say hello to Panasonic’s EH-NA65-K, which you can call “nanoe”:

Our unique nanoe™ technology takes the moisture from your hair and in the air, and uses it to create tiny, moisture-rich particles that are small enough to penetrate the shafts of your hair, helping to strengthen and protect it against damage from heat and brushing.

Just remember that it’s three syllables: na-no-E.

Geeknado reports from CES:

Panasonic will be showing off the $179 blowdryer at its CES booth, where journalists can spare a few hotel towels and have their hair dried at the conference instead.

“Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I think we’re the first to offer a salon service on the CES floor,” said Julie Bauer, President of Panasonic Consumer Electronics, who clearly wasn’t lying earlier in the morning when she said Panasonic was more than just a TV company.

They also make digital cameras, one of which I have owned for several years now.

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Sub-rosa spaceway

He’s not saying that they’re aliens, mind you, but — oh, wait, he is saying that they’re aliens:

It’s not necessarily shocking to hear somebody claim that at least four different species of aliens have visited the Earth, for thousands of years. But it is somewhat more shocking when that person was once in charge of much of Canada’s military, Paul Hellyer. In a wild interview with Russia Today, the former Canadian Minister of National Defense said that aliens would give us more technology if we would be less warlike. As it is, they are concerned about the effects our nukes might have on the universe.

And apparently the visits have become more frequent since Hiroshima:

There has been more alien activity since the first nuclear bombs were detonated in 1945, he said. “They are very much afraid we might be stupid enough to start using atomic weapons again and that would be very bad for us and them as well.” If we were more peaceful, they would be more willing to share their technology with us, he said. According to his website, in September 2005 Hellyer “became the first person of cabinet rank in the G8 group of countries to state unequivocally ‘UFO’s are as real as the airplanes flying overhead.’”

Klaatu was not available for comment.

Incidentally, Hellyer, if asked, will tell you that the most important issue of the age is monetary reform; perhaps the Canadian dollar will soon be convertible to quatloos.

(Via this Jennifer Ouellette tweet.)

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It’s an email from your pot roast

Wait a minute. Isn’t the whole idea of a Crock-Pot to avoid constantly fiddling with dinner?

If ever there was a sign that the “Internet of Things” is finally here, it’s the internet connected Crock-Pot Smart Slow Cooker launched at CES in Las Vegas this week.

Costing $99 (£66) when it launches in the US in the coming weeks, the internet-connected slow cooker uses Belkin’s WeMo connected tech to connect to the internet and then be controlled via your phone when you are out of the house.

Once it’s connected to the internet, you have full control over the cooker via the WeMo app, be that in your home or anywhere in the world for that matter.

I dunno. Goes against my grain, I guess.

Goes against Bill Quick’s grain, too, but for a different reason:

Great. Now the NSA will be monitoring what you’re having for dinner tonight.

They’ll probably just hand it off to HHS, so Sebelius can see if you’re eating an Approved Diet.

But yeah, that’s enough to kill the deal right there.

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Jazz handle it

This can’t be the same Utah Jazz who lost 25 of their first 36 games, can it? But here they are, up 30-28 after 12 minutes, 59-47 at the half, 90-74 going into the fourth after leading by as many as 24 — and then Something Happened. Were there gloves, the gloves would have been off. Both sides were out of fouls within three minutes. Just after the halfway point, Oklahoma City pulled to within eight; they would close to within five before a pair of Gordon Hayward treys put it permanently out of reach. Final: Utah 112, OKC 101.

In fact, Hayward managed to make a 48-point Kevin Durant performance look insignificant: the Jazz swingman rolled up a career-high 37 points, including 17 in a row, on a mere 16 shots and 13 free throws. What’s more, he gathered 11 rebounds and served up seven assists. And five other Jazzmen scored in double figures; the only player who didn’t make at least half his shots — the Jazz were over 50 percent all night and finished at 59 — was rookie point guard Trey Burke, and he still collected 10 points and six rebounds while delivering six dimes.

Admittedly, the Jazz didn’t have to get past Serge Ibaka, who was sidelined with flu-like symptoms. Perry Jones III, who got the start at power forward, is, to be charitable, green: in the 15 minutes he played, he got three rebounds and three fouls, and missed his only shot. And missing shots was something OKC did a lot of: the Thunder took 25 more shots than the Jazz, yet hit five fewer. That’s 39 percent, folks, and if that looks bad, look beyond the arc: six of 34. Miss Beveridge’s School for the Deranged can hit six of 34. If you’re keeping score, Durant’s 48 came on 14-34 shooting, Reggie Jackson was 6-14 for 20, and nobody else broke even ten.

Meanwhile in Denver, the Nuggets were thrashing the Celtics, 129-98. Guess who’s going to Denver Thursday night? Prayers may be in order.

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Degrees of inaccuracy

Lynn could perhaps be a little happier with the weather, or at least with the predictions thereof:

You know what bugs me most about modern weather forecasting? Not that it’s wrong sometimes but that it is, most of the time, too accurate. Yesterday they said that this morning’s low would be 0°F. It was exactly 0°F when I got up at 6:30 this morning. It is now -2°F. So they were off by 2. So far.

Then again, at 6:30 it was still an hour before sunrise. (At Wiley Post Airport, the nearest NWS reporting station to me, the low on Monday was 3°, which happened around a quarter to eight. Sunrise was 7:40.)

I don’t follow NWS Tulsa very closely, but NWS Norman has a habit of recalculating the predicted high for the day right before noon — and often as not, they were right the first time. Then again, clouds and winds don’t respond to our entreaties, or theirs.

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It’s a mature market

I am on record as saying that the Big Blog Boom began on 12 September 2001, for reasons which should be evident. Instapundit was about a month old at the time, though there were some hardy souls out there long before. Much has changed since then, and Julie R. Neidlinger, one of those hardy souls, has taken notice:

The biggest explosion of blogs, however, wasn’t moms or food. It was the blogs that talked about blogging and how you should blog to make money with your blog. These bloggers built their “platforms” by telling people how to build platforms. They built their blog by telling people how to blog. They sold ebooks and training on blogging on their blogs and it became a kind of self-feeding ponzi scheme. An entire industry of bloggers making money off of other bloggers telling them how to make money blogging.

Now I’m the last person in the world to object to turning a buck from this enterprise, especially since I never have. And I don’t think it’s gotten down to Ponzi level just yet: there’s always room for a new voice if it’s saying something people want to hear. But I admit it’s amusing to sit in #blogchat Sunday evenings (9/8 Central) just to watch the questions flow. And Mack Collier, who moderates the chat, is definitely on the side of the angels — it would never, ever occur to him to crowd out us nonprofit types — but hey, he’s got to make a living too.

Still, Julie says:

Blogging, to me, is still (and always will be) what it used to be. I have begrudgingly added the things I’m told I need to add in order to get an audience, but each day I wonder if I really want to start down this spiral or if I was happier blogging as I used to, typos and all, as if it were a public draft of my thoughts.

I haven’t added much over the years. I used to get almost 800 people a day through these digital doors; now I get 300, but 700 take my RSS feed. And it still tickles me a bit to know that a thousand people a day are wanting to know what I have to say about something.

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A slightly bigger horseshoe

Oklahoma City had 4,151 people in 1890, and was divided into four wards. (The popular histories say 10,000 showed up for the Land Run, but that was in the spring of ’89 — and between then and the 1890 Census was a little something called “winter.”)

The four wards remained intact until 1966, at which time the city went to an eight-ward system, mostly because it had been annexing land left and right. The city is actually slightly smaller now in terms of area, but the population has nearly doubled in the 48 years since then, and way back in 2006 Ward 4 Councilman Pete White was saying he’d like to see a 10-ward system.

It’s now 2014, Pete White is still representing Ward 4, and City Council will hold an unusual Wednesday meeting to take up the idea of adding two wards. If Council doesn’t act, White says he’s ready to start an initiative petition to get it on the municipal ballot.

Tulsa, with two-thirds the population, has a nine-ward system. When I brought this up in ’06, Tulsa political blogger Michael Bates said:

At the last census, Tulsa had about 43,000 people per council district, which is still too big in my opinion. A district for representation at the city level ought be no bigger than a district for representation at the state level.

The state has 3.8 million people and 101 House districts; to match up with this scheme, we’d need sixteen wards, which strikes me as an unwieldy number.

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My car says it’s cold

Yesterday Jalopnik asked people to send in pictures of the temperature readouts from their cars. By the time I saw it, though, it was already about five degrees warmer than the single-digit low I’d seen that morning, and besides, I figured no one in the Frozen North would be at all impressed with anything above zero.

That said, I do know how far down the little ambient-temperature gizmo goes, and it’s on the cusp between -3° and -4°: at that point, it switches constantly from one reading to the other until it warms up to a nice balmy -2°. They also sold this model in Canada, so I assume there’s some internal toggle to set it to Celsius.

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Up from under

The Satanic Temple, which has applied to place a monument of His Devilish Majesty at the Oklahoma State Capitol, has released the design for the proposed statuary:

Proposed statue of Satan

The Capitol Preservation Commission, which receives such applications, has declared a moratorium on such things until a lawsuit over the extant Ten Commandments monument is resolved.

Meanwhile, the Temple, through Indiegogo, hopes to raise $20,000 to cover the costs; at this writing, they’re a little over halfway there.

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We are none of us immune

Saturday in rural central Ohio:

A two-vehicle accident on Saturday resulted in multiple injuries, with one patient transported to by Med Flight.

Witnesses at the scene report that a 2009 White Ford Lincoln was traveling west bound near 5708 State Route 229 when it lost control on a curve about 12:18 p.m. The vehicle traveled left of center and was struck broadside by a Maroon Hyundai Sonata.

Three occupants of the Lincoln were transported to local hospitals, one was transported via Med flight. An unknown number of occupants of the Hyundai were also transported.

I like that: a “Ford Lincoln.” Jack Baruth might have been amused by it, but it was his Ford Lincoln Town Car that went off the road, so he has more immediate concerns.

I heard about it from TTAC writer Caroline Ellis on Twitter; TTAC posted a story yesterday, incorporating a statement from Baruth from his Facebook page:

This is Rumor Control. Involved in 40mph offset today on rural road. Wasn’t speeding, the other car wasn’t speeding, we just hit some ice. My son’s fine. My partner is in the proverbial dire straits. I had spleen surgery and I’ve broken the stuff I broke in 1988 — minus the neck.

We do, of course, wish him and his — and the occupants of the Hyundai — the fastest possible recovery.

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Won’t you be my killjoy?

EPA, evidently desperate for something to do, issues a Valentine’s Day ukase:

The Environmental Protection Agency is offering Americans “Tips for February Fun,” encouraging them to think outside the flower box on Valentine’s Day.

On one of the busiest days of the year for florists, the EPA says Americans should consider buying long-lasting silk flowers, potted plants, or live bushes, shrubs, or trees that can be planted in the spring.

And instead of visiting the card shop, consider sending electronic valentines — or recycled cards, the EPA suggests.

You’ll notice that the word “Valentine,” being the name of an actual saint fercrissake, doesn’t make it into EPA’s title.

This doesn’t affect me directly — I go into semi-seclusion in mid-February for reasons I shouldn’t have to explain — but it should not be necessary for a governmental agency, especially a governmental agency which specializes in being a pain in the neck, to issue instructions for every occasion.

(Via And So It Goes in Shreveport.)

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Make him put a ring on it

This may not be a new scheme, exactly, but it’s not something I was expecting in the 21st century either:

The wondrous part, of course, is the standard Craigslist “Avoid fraud, deal locally” footnote.

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