Paste Magazine ranks its 50 best albums of 1994. The music of our youth is truly the best music; there are some bands on here I’ve never heard of, which is why these stupid lists are sometimes valuable.
Here’s the video update from the last two weeks of work on the red bus.
→ This is a syndicated post from my Scout weblog. More info here.
Carole Cadwalladr in the Guardian:
2 Journalists are first, but everyone else is next. Trump has announced multibillion-dollar lawsuits against “the enemy camp”: newspapers and publishers. His proposed FBI director is on record as wanting to prosecute certain journalists. Journalists, publishers, writers, academics are always in the first wave. Doctors, teachers, accountants will be next. Authoritarianism is as predictable as a Swiss train. It’s already later than you think.
5. You have more power than you think. We’re supposed to feel powerless. That’s the strategy. But we’re not. If you’re a US institution or organisation, form an emergency committee. Bring in experts. Learn from people who have lived under authoritarianism. Ask advice.
7. Know who you are. This list is a homage to Yale historian, Timothy Snyder. His On Tyranny, published in 2017, is the essential guide to the age of authoritarianism. His first command, “Do not obey in advance”, is what has been ringing, like tinnitus, in my ears ever since the Washington Post refused to endorse Kamala Harris. In some weird celestial stroke of luck, he calls me as I’m writing this and I ask for his updated advice: “Know what you stand for and what you think is good.”
10. Listen to women of colour. Everything bad that happened on the internet happened to them first. The history of technology is that it is only when it affects white men that it’s considered a problem. Look at how technology is already being used to profile and target immigrants. Know that you’re next.
(via Kottke)
There’s always been something fascinating to me about the history of the U.S. Navy on the eve of and directly after the Pearl Harbor attack: a fleet of mostly obsolete ships manned by an understaffed and threadbare service, spread across a vast ocean in outdated facilities. As the Japanese war machine rolled quickly over European colonial holdings and then America’s bases, there was a frantic rear-guard operation to either stall for time or escape back to the mainland in any way possible. Among the horrific losses suffered in the Philippines and various tiny island holdings, there are stories of heroism and adventure. Years ago, a blurry picture of what looks like a ship lifted out of the water by either shell splashes or torpedo explosions caught my attention, and I tracked down the story.
The image is a still from Japanese newsreel footage taken in March of 1942. The ship was actually the USS Edsall, a 4-piper destroyer laid down in 1920 at the end of the building spree following World War 1. The Edsall was one of a handful of US Navy ships still left in the Southern Pacific, shuttling men and supplies to and from the bases we had left in the area, and on the day she was sunk, she was going to the aid of the oiler USS Pecos, which had been sunk by a huge Japanese task force. The Edsall blundered into the enemy formation and immediately took evasive action. Outgunned and slower than most of the enemy ships, all the skipper could do was evade and hope for a miracle. The Edsall zigged and dodged shellfire for an hour and a half, frustrating the Japanese commander. He then ordered 26 dive bombers from his carriers to attack, one of which finally hit and immobilized the ship, and she was quickly overwhelmed and sunk by gunfire. Her fate was unknown for years until Japanese records were translated and the story became clear.
The wreck of the Edsall was finally located late last year by an Australian research vessel, and they announced the discovery today. The ship is sitting upright on the bottom in excellent shape, in 18,000 feet of water south of Christmas Island. Godspeed, and thank you for your service.
I spent a beautiful Saturday morning at the pick & pull out out in Mt. Airy to find an electric steering setup for the Travelall before the cold weather really sets in. After I’d removed a complete unit from a bright red Nissan Versa and hauled it out to the car, I went back inside with some tools to walk the aisles and see if there was anything interesting to look at. Cash for Clunkers really thinned out the herd here in Baltimore so there isn’t usually anything older than 1990 in the yard, but every once in a while you see something fun.
I’d dressed for cold miserable weather—I wore my bike tights under my jeans and several layers of cold-weather clothing up top, but wound up stripping down to long sleeves as sunlight warmed up the day. Everything in the yard was covered in three weeks’ worth of dust, and my boots were covered in it when I left.
This MG was the first classic I stumbled across, flanked by two late-model sedans; from the sag in the front fender I knew it was in bad shape even though all the parts were still there. Peeking inside the passenger door, I saw large areas of gravel underneath—the entire floorpan was gone, the seats barely attached to the remains of the body. The engine was mostly intact, but this car was only good for chrome parts and signal lenses. It seems like I always see an MG in the yard, no matter when I visit.
The next classic I saw was this giant Chrysler Cordoba, which looked to be a 1978 model from the front grille. A smogged V8 was hidden under a nest of vacuum lines, and the plush velour upholstery was actually in very good shape. I couldn’t see any damage on the outside, so I wonder why this beast was sitting in the yard…?
The third classic was this Datsun 280Z, which had led a hard life in the sun somewhere. The interior was cracked and brittle, the upholstery one touch away from bursting into a cloud of hazardous dust. I couldn’t get the hood up any further to look at the big inline 6, but most of the panels were in decent shape.
Finally, I passed this bright yellow taxi up on the hill and stopped to seriously consider pulling the roof cap off, but ultimately passed; it would wind up being another thing sitting in the garage taking up space, and I already have enough of that.
This week it’s Love Spreads by the Stone Roses. I actually bought their second album before I’d heard the first one; the sound of the band had changed dramatically between the two so I had no idea the same group had recorded Fool’s Gold or I Wanna Be Adored. John Squire’s guitar work is underrated, and the rhythm section is absolutely locked in. Breaking Into Heaven is the other standout track on this album. The band broke up after this album, reunited in 2011 for a tour, and quietly disbanded again in 2017.
I’m trying to find other things to occupy my mind instead of doomscrolling, and I’m not winning the battle just yet. Many of my projects are on hold waiting for parts or shipments, so I can’t do much right now. The key is to stay off the internet as much as I can and focus on things I have some control over.
My anxiety levels are rising.
Sometimes while walking the dog, you stumble upon LEGOs on the side of the road.
I have no idea what this was supposed to be; it was at one point some kind of buggy powered by a V-4 engine with articulating steering and a transfer case, but the weird arms in the front don’t make any sense to me.
With the re-opening of our local library, I’m able to check out and sample video games without making expensive mistakes. I’ve been bored with Starfield, which I’ve played through completely, and casting about for a new challenge. One of the titles the library had available was Star Wars: Fallen Order, which was released five years ago to decent reviews. I loaded up all eleventy-billion gigs of files, had it run the updates, and started playing last weekend. It’s a fun game so far, and a lot different from the Bethesda-style games I’ve been playing lately: a third-person puzzle/action game leaning heavily on exploration and jumping, punctuated with lightsaber combat that I haven’t really gotten the hang of yet. I’m at the point where it’s still very challenging to get past the basic bosses without dying because I haven’t gotten the hang of the controls, but I’m enjoying the puzzles and exploration. I’ve got another couple of days to keep it and then I’ve got to decide if I’m going to purchase it, and I’m leaning towards yes.
I’ve been doing a ton of video editing over the last year and a half, and one of the sad truths I’ve come to realize is that my year-old MacBook Air (M2/8GB/500GB) is just not fast enough to work with the files I’ve been generating. Final Cut Pro tends to slow to a crawl when encoding or rendering large previews, and I like to work fast. For the past few months I’ve been considering buying a faster newer laptop and selling this one (or giving it to Finn to use for school) but Apple just released their new Mac Minis yesterday, and I like what I see in terms of specs and price. For ~600 I could get a M4/16GB/256 Mini, which would easily outrun this laptop for half the cost of a new one. I work from an external drive so I’m not worried about space; I just need inexpensive horsepower and I don’t mind having something small on the desk to do the job. Filing this away for future reference…
NPR is reporting that over 200,000 subscribers have cancelled their subscriptions to The Washington Post after Jeff Bezos prevented the Editorial board from endorsing a candidate for the first time since 1980. This is how democracy dies; people fail to stand up to racists and dictators. Bezos is one of the richest men in the world; the paper should have been set up to weather this kind of thing in spite of his ownership.
Seriously, how hard would it be to set aside a half a billion dollars of that incredible fortune as an endowment for an independent press organization? Why are we consumed by the business-school idea that everything needs to pay for itself or turn a profit, like a business? What if they are just things we pay for that benefit the public?