ecto Thus Far

There are still some oddities encountered working with blogging client ecto. But I’m getting used to it. The nag screen comes up every time I start the thing, but I’ve seen nags that are much more obnoxious.

Okay, 3,2,1 let’s jam.

iTunes: Cowboy Bebop: Tank! (Opening Theme): Cowboy Bebop OST [3:30]

First of all, I’m still not clear as to whether I’m saving a draft, or publishing to blog, or saving a whole new duplicate post. I’ve had a couple of dupe so far. It’s probably a force-of-habit thing that I’ll get over. I do like the “auto-save every X minutes” feature, I’ve lost more than one blog post by hitting the “back” button or something equally moronic. But I’m still sort of baffled over my draft/save habits on this thing.

However, it’s fairly good on the ease-of-use front. When I’m in MT, I’m constantly distracted by the urge to tinker under the hood. And the entry screen isn’t big, and I just don’t feel like “writing” with a flow. Also, the ability to customize snippets of HTML is VERY nice. And the image handling is pretty good. Even with my customized stylesheets, it’s pretty easy to set up images so they “come over” into MT properly.

I was tickled to see that macros for auto-linked text, acronyms, and other text doodads work fine.

I’m pretty sad about some of the Mac-only features that I don’t get to use, particularly easy button-pushes for Amazon and IMDB goodies. And of course, the iTunes thing is much cooler on the Mac side, I had to install a funky but lightweight little app called WMPtunes, but at least it’s somewhat customizable as to the text it puts in. Heh, I bet I can even style it with inline styles. Will play with that… later.

I was able to set up 3 MT blogs, at least one Blogger blog (can’t remember if I did all of them) and most importantly, the WordPress blog that David put together for Riley. Which means that I don’t really have to learn the rudiments of WP or remember another login/password combo. And I’m pretty happy about that. 😉

Ooh, that reminds me.. I wonder if I can add all my smiley shortcuts? That would be damn handy.

Very, very soon I’m going to be making a decision as to whether I’ll pony up and pay the registration fee. Thus far, aside from the duplicate post thing, it’s looking like a keeper, and it will certainly be nice to work with “on the road.”

Extra, Extra: Cartoon Flap Faked?

I ran across a couple of mentions that there were “extra,” extra-offensive cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him, if that is the proper phrase). The sources were a little too tinfoil for me to quote and link verbatim, so I went looking around.

Wikipedia led me in the direction of the Danish newspaper that originally published a set of 12 cartoons – the originals are reproduced (in a very tiny format) on the Wiki page. If you really want to see them, you may… especially for comparison purposes.

The Danish paper has an English-language section on the Middle-East/Islamic cartoon flap”:

Latest Jyllands-Posten

On 30 September last year, Morgenavisen Jyllands-Posten published 12 different cartoonists’ idea of what the Prophet Mohammed might have looked like.

The initiative was taken as part of an ongoing public debate on freedom of expression, a freedom much cherished in Denmark.
In our opinion, the 12 drawings were sober. They were not intended to be offensive, nor were they at variance with Danish law, but they have indisputably offended many Muslims for which we apologize.

Since then a number of offensive drawings have circulated in The Middle East which have never been published in Morgenavisen Jyllands-Posten and which we would never have published, had they been offered to us. We would have refused to publish them on the grounds that they violated our ethical code.

Related articles (in English) at the Jyllends-Posten are here.

Wikipedia notes:

A Muslim religious organisation in Denmark, Islamisk Trossamfund, played a large part in bringing attention to the cartoons to Muslims of the Middle East during a recent tour; allegedly, it added three additional images to the group and claimed that they had been published in Jyllands-Posten as well.[58]

These three images are all considerably more obscene than the published cartoons, and none of them had previously been published by Jyllands-Posten or any other mainstream media outlet. On February 1 BBC World aired a story showing one of these three images, and incorrectly claimed that it had been published in Jyllands-Posten. [59]

Akhmad Akkari, spokesman of the Danish-based European Committee for Prophet Honouring[60] which co-organised the tour, claimed to be unaware of the origin of the three pictures and said that they had been sent by unknown persons to Muslims in Denmark. Arkkari purported to justify the use of the three drawings as providing “insight in how hateful the atmosphere in Denmark is towards Muslims.” However, when Akkari was asked if the Muslims who had received these pictures could be interviewed, Akkari refused to reveal their identities.[61]

The bracketed note numbers refer to footnoted links on the Wiki page. Keep in mind that Wikipedia can be edited by anyone with a login, although they have a large group of volunteer editors who mostly succeed in keeping it factual.

So – where did those 3 cartoons come from? Were they really sent anonymously to Muslim Danes? Or were they inserted to ginger up the rest of the collection? Admittedly, the image of the Prophet with the bomb in his turban is considered one of the most offensive, and it’s definitely one of the original cartoons.

The other question being batted around by the more… reality-challenged of the blogosphere is the mysterious availability of Danish flags to burn in a variety of Middle Eastern and South Asian countries. Who knows? It does seem surprisingly well-orchestrated, although it took several months to really heat up.

Continental Hold Music Is Teh Brainsucking Evil

“most annoying hold music” – Google Search

I’ll add to this Google search on the “most annoying hold music” by saying that Continental Airlines’ agency desk (where travel agents call and request help with pricing and ticking issues) is teh brain-sucking evil.

Its print equivalent would be saying “doot!” several thousand times, to a mindlessly peppy and very short tune. Thus, you hear the same short musical phrase dozens of times while waiting to find out from the agent if they can help you or not.

Sometimes, it’s a dog’s life being a travel agent.

That is all.

Twenty Great Songs The Grammys Missed

Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune noted “Twenty great songs from 2005 that the Grammys missed” in this order:

1. “George Bush Doesn’t Care About Black People,” the Legendary K.O.
2. “When God Made Me,” Neil Young
3. “When the President Talks to God,” Bright Eyes
4. “Come Save Us,” Warlocks
5. “Devil in My Car,” New Black
6. “The Good Ones,” the Kills
7. “Here Comes a City,” Go-Betweens
8. “Bucky Done Gone,” M.I.A.
9. “Career Finders,” Perceptionists
10. “It’s for You,” Out Hud
11. “Everyday I Love You Less and Less,” Kaiser Chiefs
12. “Not About Love,” Fiona Apple (unreleased Jon Brion version
13. “Jumpers,” Sleater-Kinney
14. “The Bleeding Heart Show,” New Pornographers
15. “Sister Jack,” Spoon
16. “It’s Alright,” Redwalls
17. “Medicine,” Sons and Daughters
18. “West of Town,” Tom Brosseau
19. “Silver Rider,” Low
20. “I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got,” Bettye LeVette

I downloaded a few songs – mostly from iTunes, plus a couple more that I ran across. Listening to some of Kot’s picks, I wasn’t as impressed as he was, but I appreciate the pointer to the first three on the list- definite keepers. I didn’t listen to all of them, just a selection.

I decided to give a few a listen via iTunes and other sources, and although I mostly didn’t care for some of Kot’s choices, I did like the top three – they’re keepers.

Betty Friedan

Well, she’s gone. I never read “The Feminine Mystique” for some reason; maybe it was considered “old hat” or something when I was taking Women’s Studies classes.

I had a personal encounter with her several years after college: I was drunk, silly, and sitting next to her in First Class on a flight home from a SABRE training class in Dallas. Ms. Friedan asked the flight attendant to move me far away from her, and be quiet.

Heh. Well, I guess that was the real reason I never read her book, even though I respected her as a pioneer. But I don’t know why it wasn’t a required text in the classes I took.

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Ouch! My Poor Paw!

“Ow! Ow! YEEEOW! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYOWTCH!!”

Yes, I did indeed vocalise in this very vulgar manner tonight. I was quite overcome with pain. My furry human was busying himself with doing something about the monkey chow they eat at night, and I was in my usual position right at his feet. Well, I was only offering to take care of any little fishy tidbits that happened to find their way to the floor.

And then he stepped back and put his big monkey food down HARD, RIGHT on my little paw, and it HURT. I screamed loudly and ran away.

My monkeywoman came quick! She ran right up from the other room and they both approached me as I stumbled away in some pain and confusion. It was like reliving a nightmare, but then they both stopped and spoke softly and gently to me and to each other.

I shook off my pain-befuddlement and moved as quick as I could up the stairs to the sleeping room, in some embarassment for being caught out. I had shown fear, and I felt very small and vulnerable again. They followed, carefully.

Oh no! For a moment I was afraid of even my beloved monkeys! I shuddered with fear, but it lessened as I realized that already my paw hurt less and less. Not a serious injury, then. Of course, I should have realized that when I was able to run up the stairs, but still.

You may kiss the paw

I jumped, rather gingerly, up on to the bed to my secure place, a blanket placed for my personal use at the foot of the bed. My monkeys came close, reassuring me that they meant me no harm. My lady petted me softly and felt my legs and paws gently. She seemed relieved, and then she petted my furry one, and he seemed even more relieved and petted me over and over again. It was clear that abject apologies were being offered, and so I accepted with a tentative “bump” to his paw. And then all was loving and good and I was not scared any more. I love my humans, but they certainly are clumsy.

I recovered my sang-froid, and later was able to play a couple of good games of Stringfish! and Get That Red Dot!!1! with my furry man. Friends again. However, I shall be much more cautious about those big feet-things they have. I’m fine now, although you may kiss the paw if you wish.

I don’t think I like feet much at all. My monkey lady has big purple fake feet on her back paws right now and they make a scary SHH! – SHH! noise. I did not think it was amusing when she approached just now to play a game of I’m Coming To Get You!

If I could talk Gibberish (the language that they speak) I would tell her “Lose the purple feet, please.”

Perhaps I shall have to take drastic steps to render them…unwearable. More on that later.

Chris Isaak:Somebody’s Crying

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A Few Things That Have Been Bothering Me Lately

Right, enough incessant style-twitching and markup-tweaking for a while. Now for a few things that I’ve been turning over in my mind lately, kind of like when you’re out back digging in the garden in early spring, and you turn over a forkful of earth and find a lot of worms and goo.

Thursday night, I stopped off at a nearby mega-supermarket to pick up a few items for dinner. I’m always on the lookout for odd experiences there ever since the Screaming Child incident, and generally I am rewarded with minor annoyances; they have far more “scan your own groceries” stations than they have staffed checkout aisles, which is fine if you’re not juggling a small amount of groceries with a few items of clothing. Anyway, that night I had a mixed load of food and pet items, and I didn’t feel like wrestling with the scanner, so I got in line for checkout. And waited, and waited and waited.

I had plenty of time to peruse the magazine racks, and noted with interest that once again the Air Force had fought off the aliens. Ho, hum, they do that all the time, it’s beein overdone on Stargate if you ask me. Still, it made the papers:

Aliens!

Nice to see that the men and women in Air Force blue are keeping the world safe from extra-terrorestrials.

Anyway, eventually even this diversion palled, and I started checking out other people’s groceries. The lady at the head of the line was taking the Devil’s own time – some problem with her credit card. Anyway, then it was the man’s turn, just behind her. He was wearing a skullcap; not sure if the style of it signified anything, but it covered more of the head, and sat farther forward than a yarmulke does. For some reason, because he was very distinguished looking, I thought he might be a rabbi. He had an air about him of scholarship, rather than an ordinary, observant businessman.

So the thing that bothered me was this: As he was finishing his transaction, a young man in an oversized starter-type jacket with a big hood went slouching by, walking along in front of the checkouts toward the doors. He had reflective tape on the jacket, and I thought he might be the kid that brings in all the carts. And as he went by our aisle, he looked back over his shoulder, staring at the man in the yarmulke with an intensity I’d never seen in an ordinary, hum-drum setting. And he was sneering, which twisted his face in a parody of thuggishness. He looked like the bastard child of Billy Idol and Eminem – or maybe he was a of the two.

And then as he walked, his focus shifted, and I was staring into his eyes. He glared angrily at me, defiant in being caught mid-sneer. I held the gaze, and he continued on out the door… and then the older gentleman finished up and walked off with his purchases in the same direction.

For some reason, I felt very uncomfortable. I wanted to run after the older man and strike up a conversation, just so he wouldn’t walk out in the dark with that kid alone. I’m telling you, it was irrational, and I probably misread the situation completely, but… my heart raced as I silently urged the checker to finish scanning my salmon and cous-cous.

Off I went at last, hurrying a little. I was relieved to see that the older man had been detained, chatting with someone. So I was able to catch up and follow along behind. I had the oddest feeling that I was inserting myself as a silent guardian in order to keep something unpleasant from happening.

He headed right toward my car, so we loaded our things and off we went. I spotted the kid, and he was, indeed, bringing in a long line of carts.

No telling whether my crazy intuition was right, no telling whether the kid would have mouthed off. But that expression on his face was no accident.

No Time For Bullies

I have no time for bullies. I think they’re a completely useless variation on the human model, and I’m irritated that evolution and the survival of the fittest are probably responsible for their presence among us.

There are all kinds of bullies running things nowadays: government and society are rife with them. A bunch of the religious sort ganged up on a “not-bad TV show” () are now congratulating themselves on its cancellation. A bunch more of the political kind shut down commentary at a public meeting from people opposing a conservative-sponsored, undocumented alien tuiton bill. And elsewhere, all kinds of other bullies are doing their unsavory work in the name of God or Mammon

I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I do know that I’m damn tired of living in a bullyocracy.

Reptile Palace Orchestra:Enchanted Reptile Palace:Iguana Iguana[4:00]

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Ahh…

Picture of David

David, on Day One of our last trip to Maui.

Really, this is more of a test post, I’m checking out ecto, and the iTunes plugin associated with it. I’ve managed to get it working and it appears to be mostly harmless. There’s a support forum,

Time for the acid test. I may be cracking open a beer in a second, but will there be much joy? or no joy?

Ledward Kaapana:Whee Ha Swing:Hawaiian Slack Key Guitar Masters[2:37]

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Smoking Gun, Smirking Bastards

Guardian Unlimited Politics | Special Reports | Bush told Blair we’re going to war, memo reveals

smirkingbastards.jpg

Tony Blair told President George Bush that he was “solidly” behind US plans to invade Iraq before he sought advice about the invasion’s legality and despite the absence of a second UN resolution, according to a new account of the build-up to the war published today.

A memo of a two-hour meeting between the two leaders at the White House on January 31 2003 – nearly two months before the invasion – reveals that Mr Bush made it clear the US intended to invade whether or not there was a second UN resolution and even if UN inspectors found no evidence of a banned Iraqi weapons programme.

The diplomatic strategy had to be arranged around the military planning“, the president told Mr Blair. The prime minister is said to have raised no objection. He is quoted as saying he was “solidly with the president and ready to do whatever it took to disarm Saddam”.

Look at them. Look at them. So smug and full of secrecy, because they’re going to war and the Hell with anyone else, but no one else will know that the diplomacy and the appearance of getting the UN’s approval was a sham. And they’ll make sure the

Except that we pretty much did know, and we always knew, that there was something not quite right about going to war in Iraq. The intelligence was always pointing the policy that way, but the policy was always making damn sure that only the “right” intelligence was used. Thousands of people, military and civilian, have died, and God only knows how much money has been wasted on an incapably fallible Dope’s errand. Money that we could use to rebuild the Southeast. Manpower and equipment, ditto.

I really hope that the wheels come off the Right’s little red wagon, maybe by this fall (or the next big storm). And I hope that no more soldiers, sailors, Marines, Iraqis, or American citizens neck deep in dirty water die needlessly… because I think entropy, anarchy, and the rot are setting in, thank God, at last.

Elegant Napalm

IMproPRieTies: reax

Of all the tedious media coverage of reaction to the SOTU I saw, I most respected Renee Montagne’s visit to three New Orleansians in a FEMA trailer in the darkened eastern sector of the city. These people watching the Bone tossed from the House, sailing through the deluxe mediascape, landing with an thud in that dark abandoned wreck of the town. Hearing the President ignore not just the city, but his federal administration’s obscene failure to address the city, and now the failure to address that obscene failure, which is apparently the only way Mr. Bush knows how to implement anything at all in a realm in which accountability is not fudgeable by bogus fear and strategically invoked terror.

Now this, THIS is a SOTU post. I just wanted to haul it back here and be able to re-read it at my leisure.

It’s the written equivalent of napalm, elegantly and generously applied.

Then I listened to Renee Montagne’s piece. At the time of the SOTU speech, I thought it was bizarre and disturbing that so little time was spent talking about Katrina and the aftermath, and that there was absolutely no responsibility taken whatsoever.

In spite of ‘s prediction, no drink.

June (and hurricane season) is just around the corner. Maybe we ought to get a new groundhog.