Here’s a collection of random links culled from a number of of tabs I’ve had open from the past week:
- Kingmakers is an upcoming game where you are apparently parachuted into historical battles with modern weapons and lay waste to medieval knights with rocket launchers and Corvettes. This looks like it would be a hoot to play. I remember a game 10-15 years ago where the goal was to mow down as many opposing forces as possible and the engine was optimized to have hundreds of NPCs active at the same time without melting down your graphics card. I have to believe you’d need a supercomputer to run this one at anything other than Minecraft-level graphics settings, but it does look like fun.
- What happened to the thousands of ships that were built by the U.S. to fight in WWII? Eventually they were scrapped, of course, but how did that work? Here’s a deep dive into the process. Directly after the war it was a profitable business, but as the numbers dwindled and the dangers of asbestos and PCBs were fully understood, it became a losing proposition and harder to do safely.
- The Cornbinder Connection is a magazine dedicated to IH trucks and nothing else. I’ve seen their booth at Nats for the last couple of years and for some reason I’ve never bothered to subscribe. If Santa needs a gift idea for me, this would be a good one.
- Character.ai is a chatbot that The Teens have been using (including ours) and, alarmingly, it’s going rogue and convincing them to self-harm, among other things. The people behind the bot have now introduced a new model specifically for teens which is supposed to guide away from these interactions, and they’re planning on rolling out parental controls next year. But, as with anything else, it’s still a simple matter to defeat the age verification requirements, which means this teen model will be useless. Maybe they should just make a single model and make it safer and better? And why weren’t these controls in place before they originally released the bot?
Our local library, the one within walking distance of the house, recently reopened after a two-year renovation. built sometime in the 1960’s, it was probably a marvel of its time: a one-story brick building with a full basement, sweeping skylights in the main shelving area, and a windowed front facade. As a preschooler, Finn spent hours in the kids section, which took up one whole side of the building; I’d take her down there and (when she was in her bookworm phase) she’d get lost in the shelves, simply reading quietly by herself, and it filled me with pride and love.
In recent years the building was showing its age; the original wood paneling had darkened over time, and the skylights had yellowed and dimmed. The downstairs areas were even darker and creepier. But the shelves were still stuffed with books; while there wasn’t a huge selection, they clearly had reached the limit of their space.
So I was happy to see they’d re-opened it, and stopped in on my way home from work the other night. The girls had checked it out a few days prior and sent me some pictures, which piqued my curiosity. The floorplan is roughly the same, but it looks like they used architectural tricks to open up the space further, widening out the available space and making it feel airier inside. The surfaces are all modern and clean, and the furniture is all new and shiny. And they’ve added several enclosed glass spaces for things like podcasting and meetings, which is a nice idea.
What didn’t come back, at least not yet, are the books. The shelves are shorter, there are fewer of them, and they’re not full—not by a long shot. The areas I used to frequent, the military history, detective fiction, CD/DVD areas, and graphic novels, are threadbare. I was, frankly, kind of surprised. Meanwhile, their online e-book selection remains limited, with few titles I’m interested in and fewer copies to actually check out.
Howard, our adjoining county, recently put up a new library on the other side of Ellicott City. It’s at least three stories, covered in glass, the size of a small office park. The parking lot is huge. It joins another one in Colombia of similar size. Interesting how a county with a population less than half that of ours can prioritize and afford amenities like this.
It’s been quiet around here lately, mostly because the entire East Coast, for those who haven’t been watching the news, has been under a giant raincloud for the past two weeks. We didn’t suffer any of the horror Appalachia did, and for that I am forever grateful, but it sure was nice to feel warm sun on my pale, shriveled skin walking the dog this morning.
I had, with my cereal this morning, some of the best blueberries I’ve eaten in the last 10 years. In September. Modern civilization may be crumbling but I appreciate the small things.
The Check Engine light on the OG-V (164,000 miles and counting!) has been intermittently coming on and then shutting itself off for no discernible reason. I had the knock sensor replaced a few months ago at the behest of the computer, and immediately after that the light came back on and the computer threw the same code, so clearly the squirrels have been down in the engine munching on wires, or there’s a ghost in the machine. The clutch is definitely on its last legs, so we have to make a decision as to when that’s going to be addressed.
I was in New York last week for the briefest of moments to shoot video for a work event, and it reminded me both how much I love to visit that city and how much I could never stand to live there at this age. And for that matter, how much I dislike dragging video equipment through a train station. I think my remote shooting days are mostly over, unless they offer to send me someplace really cool; it’s cheaper to hire a local crew in most cases anyway.
Hazel found a way to wedge herself in between Finn’s fort and the raised bed sometime last night after 8PM; She backed herself out of the tac harness and went on the lam. I wasn’t aware until I went outside to collect her and found the evidence at 10:30. Jen and I suited up and prepared to canvas the neighborhood, but she came trotting back up to Jen in the backyard, panting, and immediately went inside to drink all of the available water. This is progress; her usual M.O. is to follow her nose to the Mississippi River and points west until someone can grab her and read her chip. I’m going to order a simple collar for her tags in preparation for the next time she slips the harness.
This is some positively amazing reporting from an organization called Forensic Architecture: In 2020, a 60-year old woman named June Knightly was shot with five other female traffic safety volunteers by a right-wing extremist. They were preparing to protect a peaceful protest march in Portland, which was happening blocks away, when the man approached them and began a confrontation. The events leading up to the shooting, her death, and the terrible response by the Portland police and local news media are all recreated in a harrowing but exceptionally well-produced video, with interviews from most of the people who were there.
It’s important to note that all of the local media channels characterized the murder as “a confrontation between armed protestors and an armed homeowner,” all of which is not true: All of the women were unarmed and trying to de-escalate the situation; the shooter instigated the attack, was known to the FBI as an extremist dating back to 2006, and was renting an apartment down the street. He was shot by an armed bystander who arrived moments later and is now serving life in prison. He’s actually responsible for two murders that day: a second volunteer, who was paralyzed in the attack, requested to be taken off a ventilator and died in 2024.
Propaganda kills.
Used to be, I preferred one Big Box Hardware chain over another. As the owner of a 99-year-old house, I am intimately familiar with each chain, their particular quirks, and the brands they both carry. I’ve spent days of my life walking the aisles, searching the shelves, or tying large loads of stuff down in the parking lot. I’ve easily spent more than a year’s worth of my current salary on their merchandise. And living in a large metropolitan area, I sometimes take for granted that I am spoiled for choice. Within 10 miles of my house there are two different locations for each chain, and they vary in size and quality. I have carefully studied what one location might offer differently than another within the same chain; some will cut wood or offer rolls of sod while others won’t. Some have a better selection of high-grade framing wood, or a particular type of molding when others don’t.
I guess it’s my fault that the local Home Depot, then, has colored my opinion of that chain. It’s small, cramped, and poorly lit. The management has clearly stopped giving a shit about keeping it clean; the parking lot is a rubble-strewn wasteland. The second-closest one in Ellicott City is modern, clean, and organized, so we prefer that location when we’re not in a hurry. Our local Lowe’s—just 1/4 mile down the street from the crappy HD—is usually clean and well-stocked, so if I’m pressed for time I’ll go there first. They also have a larger selection of appliances, and in years past I’ve had good luck with their service.
When the microwave oven crapped out right before we left for Portugal, I knew I would have to replace it quickly when we got back, so I jumped on the Lowe’s website and found a good candidate. After clearing it with Jen I placed the order and was told it would take a week to arrive. When a week had come and gone, I checked back and it told me it would be another week. So we waited. After the third delay I got fed up, as there was no clear delivery date offered, and the CSR on the phone couldn’t give me any information, so I canceled it. While I was on hold, I jumped on Amazon and found the same microwave for $80 cheaper and free 2-day delivery.
Fast forward to this past Monday: I set up a delivery order through Lowe’s for drywall and supplies to my FiL’s house in Southern Maryland. There is a Lowe’s location 2.5 miles from his house. I selected Friday (today) on the website and placed the order. When today’s delivery time had come and gone, I checked on the order and found that it had been bumped to September 20 with no explanation and no update. After calling the online number, the CSR could not change that delivery time, so I canceled it. Calling his local store to try to rent a truck tomorrow morning, the phone just rang and rang. Calling back to the main customer service line, it just rang and rang.
What the fuck, Lowe’s? How hard is it to do simple shit like this? 30 years ago the local hardware store could deliver stuff to a job site the next day. Where are these supplies coming from, Idaho? If Amazon can drop-ship a microwave in two days, how is it impossible for you to get me one within the same month?
Back in 2007 I wrote about the Martin Mars flying boats and how there were some proposals to move one of them from British Columbia, where they have had a long and storied career as water bombers, back to Baltimore, where they were built. Well, that didn’t exactly pan out, but they are finding new homes: The Philippine Mars will be returned to flight status and moved to the Pima Air and Space Museum for permanent display. Similarly, the Hawaii Mars was just flown from its home on a lake in rural BC to the Victoria International Airport, where it will be on permanent display. I watched the livestream of the flight and it was pretty breathtaking, even though it was low-resolution and laggy. I’m glad to see these two amazing planes were so well-preserved that it was cost effective to get them flying again, even if they didn’t get one back here to Baltimore.
So, the verdict on AirPods Pro 2nd Generation: holy crap are these an order of magnitude better than the first gen. The noise cancelling alone is worlds better. I’m not used to the feature that listens to your voice and lowers the content of the audio you might be listening to, and there are some other bells and whistles I haven’t sorted out yet, but these are nice.
I’m headed into my GP for the first time next week in I-don’t-know-how-long for a general physical checkup; it’s been so long since I’ve seen him that he changed practices and is now in a different part of town. The goal here is to get an update on my regular bloodwork, with a focus on cholesterol (something they don’t check when I go in for cancer annuals). My blood pressure and heart rate have all remained low during the post-cancer phase but I want to make sure my heart is healthy and I’m not pouring grease in the pipes.
Theoretically I’ve got a new set of glasses coming from Warby Parker in a new frame style. There was some online confusion when I had to upload my pupillary distance information that got stuck, so I had to call and sort it out with someone online. They assured me the order had gone through, but I still have an order stuck in their cart on the website, so who knows? Update: it hadn’t gone through; a follow-up phonecall solved this.
This is the first big change I’ve made to a frame style in probably ten years or more, and I’m a little nervous. The frame size is larger than the ones I’ve been wearing which should give me some more distance for the progressive part of the lenses—and my reading prescription has changed so it’ll be good to get that updated. This is a little more of a distinguished professor/creative director look—I’ll share a picture when I get them.
I’ve been using a particular sticker vendor for probably six years now, and I was always very happy with their service, along with monthly promotions they’d run to do one-off shirt designs and other things that I found very handy. It was a surprise, then, when I got a promotional email from them last week where the founder expressed his support for Trump and added some tone deaf lying bullshit about respecting all people. He followed it up with another email a few days later claiming his staff had received death threats, which I would gather is further bullshit, as well as playing directly from the right-wing false victimhood playbook. Luckily, I’ve got another sticker/t-shirt vendor, and will be ending any association with his company.
Saturday, 29 June
We woke up in our own apartment and decided to take things easy for the day. Finn was content to hang around the house so Jen and I finally roused ourselves and walked downtown to find a good breakfast. On the way we stopped at an impossibly crowded antique store to browse through the stuff. There was a lot of vintange petroliana available but I stayed strong and backed away from it. Jen and I found our breakfast at an interesting combination store/cafe (think of a Banana Republic with a full restaurant on the second floor).
We tried a Caipirinha for the first time, which were delicious and deadly, and each of us had a wonderful meal followed by cappuccino and dessert. Taking our time to slowly wander back home, we did some more lazy sightseeing and tried to find some other alternatives for food and destinations later in the week.
Sunday, 30 June – 7822 steps
We’d been told about a variation on the Pastel De Nata called Ovos Moles, which are the specialty of a coastal town a little south of us called Aviero. The town is nestled right on the water and also includes several examples of Art Nouveau architecture as well as a museum (and several ancient cathedrals, of course) so we set course southward to check it out. After finding some on-street parking that wasn’t covered by my app we got some lunch and commenced to walk the town. The Art Nouveau museum was underwhelming, as was the city museum, but we learned some things about the region and saw some beautiful buildings.
Stopping for our first ovos moles at a touristy cafe, we were underwhelmed with the flavor—very yolky as opposed to creamy like the Pastel de Nata. We walked the old section of town over to their historic cathedral and were lucky enough to sneak in before they closed, which was lucky; it’s a beautiful building filled with some incredible art (and one creepy seven-swords Our Lady of Sorrow statue).
Leaving there we decided we needed to make sure the subpar ovos moles weren’t a fluke and found a beautiful padaria where the woman at the counter hooked us up with several things to try. This one was a little sweeter but still very yolky—so we decided this wasn’t for us. With that, we headed back to the car and to our house in Porto.
Monday 1 July – 15,943 steps
Monday was the day. Jen and I plotted a course around the old section of Porto to see a bunch of sights, some of which we’d bumped into and others we didn’t know about. I got up early and crossed the street to pick up coffee and egg croissants at the bakery on the corner (something I’d already made a habit of; the guys behind the counter were exceptionally generous to your jet lagged correspondent) while everyone got ready to go. Our course took us first to a proper breakfast at a lovely cafe in the historic district, and we filled up on good food and our second Porn Star Martini of the trip (highly recommended).
From there we went first to the Chapel of Souls, an 18th-century church covered in hand-painted tilework, where we shot a few pictures and then went inside to pay our respects.
The influencers were out in force outside so we continued on our way to our next waypoint: the Majestic Cafe, an Art Nouveau restaurant with eye-watering pricing (most likely to keep the influencers from clogging the place up). We viewed it from outside and then kept moving.
The church of Saint Ildefonso is up on top of the hill in the middle of a shopping district. It has an unmistakeable impact on the area not only because of its location, but because of the incredible tile work across the outside of the whole building. Both times we saw it, it was behind locked gates, so we couldn’t go up or inside, but as an object in both morning and afternoon light, it was beautiful to look at.
From here we wandered further downhill, and through some construction to reach the Porto train station, which had been noted in a bunch of the different guides we read for its architecture and tile work. This was definitely something we wanted to see, so we brave the crowds and went inside we weren’t disappointed. The main hall is empty of benches like most modern train stations are, but is filled with people all staring upward at the tile and plasterwork.
Outside, it’s an old-school series of platforms with latticed ironwork creating a barrel roof, under which several trains sat idling. It’s actually in the middle of a valley so the trains leave through tunnels at the other end of the station, and the whole thing is surrounded by ancient buildings, reaching up over the edges. We stood and took pictures and walked the platforms for a while, then went back into the main building to stare upward for a while longer.
Leaving the train station, we wandered the streets slowly downhill until we found a nice open air café to stop and get a cold beer and a nosh to eat. We were entertained by a man playing an alto sax out in the Square for euros, who was perhaps, un willingly accompanied by a man in his 60s or 70s suggestively dancing to his music, trying to get women passers-by to join him. Café culture really is a thing, and I could really get used to it here in the states if our towns and cities were actually organized in a humane way.
The next thing we ran into was the Bolsa palace, the original stock exchange for the city when Porto was a key trading port. We were a little dubious about the ticket price, but once we walked in the building, and saw how magnificent everything was we were happy we had taken the chance. The middle courtyard was being rented out for some sort of event so we couldn’t stand in the middle and look upward but from where we were it was breathtaking.
One thing that we got to see that made us very happy was the final stop on the tour, a room called the Arabian room, which was decorated in the 1880s with carved wood covered in gold and Arabian accents.
Leaving the Bolsa, we found ourselves very close to sea level and figured we might try walking over one of the bridges to see the other side of the city. The city has three bridges, and we were close to one with a span we could cross at our level.
On the other side of the water, we took a break at a park and rest our legs and looked at a map. We realized we were very close to most of the port wine distilleries, and thought we would stop in for a tasting. We chose Callum as our vineyard, and were lucky to get a table outside under an umbrella to watch people walk past. Jen and I settled on a flight of vintage ports with a cheese plate to accompany things. All in all, it was a lovely way to spend an hour or two by the water and tasting fantastic wine.
From there, we walked back across the low span of the bridge to the funicular, which was a cheap way to climb 40 stories without having to walk any stairs. From there, we circle back to walk out on the top span of the bridge and view the city from high. It was beautiful, but a little wobbly so we only got out about a third of the way before coming back. On our way back we stopped past the church of Saint Ildefonso again, this time in the afternoon light, and marvel at how beautiful it still was. The rest of the trip was a slow uphill until we got back to the apartment and at that point we were so tired we didn’t go back out for dinner.
Tuesday, 2 July – 8662 steps
There were a couple of things still on our list that we wanted to see before we left Porto so we made a careful plan and mapped out our course for the last few highlights Finn had made a list of sites she wanted to see, one of which was called the Bank of Materials which is a collection built by the city of reclaimed tile from buildings that have been torn down. After getting a decent breakfast at a café, halfway downtown, we circled a square until we found the museum itself, which was tucked away on a side street. The museum itself wasn’t very big, but held too long racks full of wooden boxes with reclaimed tile inside with more patterns than we had seen out on the street—in geometric shapes, hand, painted scenes, and printed patterns. They also had an entire collection of porcelain street signs, plaster, castings, and a couple of mosaics on display.
After that, we wanted to see the Livaria Lello, which is build as the most beautiful bookstore in the world. As with many things in Porto, you have to get tickets so we figured out our entry time and only had to wait about 20 minutes to get in. Once inside, it’s filled with the requisite influencers, and TikTokers, all posing on the grand staircase, which is only about two people wide, so you have to wait for people to make duck lips before you can go anywhere. With about 1/10 of the people inside the library would be absolutely beautiful, but we had a hard time really enjoying it when being jostled by other tourists wandering up and down looking for the best photo op. They were hosting a celebration of José Saramago, the only Portuguese Nobel winner, whose biography display made him sound like a very humorous and interesting author—but none of his work was available in English. It was breathtaking inside but we all reached our people limit quickly and bailed out.
Worried about having some upscale clothing for dinner, we walked downtown Porto to try and find a women’s boutique with a blouse that Jen could wear (she packed for cold weather and it got hot on us) but the only two choices seemed to be cheap tourist peasant-type clothes or the Zara/Burberry stores where you have to buzz to be let inside. We gave up on this after awhile and headed back home.
We made plans to try a restaurant our hosts recommended, so we hopped in the car and drove to the west side of the city. The restaurant specializes in fresh seafood, and when I walked in I was met by a glass case holding some of the largest lobster I’ve ever seen. Our waiter was excellent and recommended some fantastic dishes for us: Jen had a seafood “açorda” (bread and seafood stew), I had grilled crayfish with butter rice, and Finn had steamed clams. They paired it with an excellent wine, and we were all in heaven. Everything was perfect and we had a great evening together. Waddling home, we all hit the sack immediately.
Wednesday, 3 July – 7715 steps
We got a late start on Wednesday, possibly because we were trying to put off the idea of having to leave. We did some straightening up around the apartment and I went out to fill up the rental car. There wasn’t much left to see other than wandering the streets, but we headed back downtown to find some lunch and check out a store we’d scoped out for Finn days earlier. The other thing we wanted to do was find the arts district to see if there was anyplace selling something we could bring home and hang on the wall, as well as some gifts for our hosts. We found a long street sprinkled with upscale art galleries—actual hung artwork on the wall—and smaller shops with prints and more tourist centered objects. We did stumble on one storefront, selling prints from local artists, which was perfect for what we wanted. After only about five minutes of looking, Jen found a series of prints by one artist that we really loved and we picked a bunch out for ourselves.
Then we regretfully wandered back to the apartment to straighten everything up, repack all of our gear, and get ready for the following morning.
Thursday, 4 July
Our flight was at 12:20 so we wanted to be in the airport by 9 AM. We got the rental car back to the counter by 8:20 and we’re walking into the airport by 8:40 from there. We had to wait about an hour for the ticket window to open up to get checked in. Once that was complete, we made our way through security and found our gate. I had woken with a sore throat and my nose had started running, so we stopped in at a pharmacy and got me some bizarre Portuguese cold meds that tasted like old sheets and a couple of masks I could wear on the plane.
The first flight to Lisbon went without any problems and this time we had an extra 40 minutes to make it to our connecting flight again there was some confusion as to which gate we were supposed to go to, and once we got into the boarding line, there was an extra security check that made no sense to us. But we boarded the plane and settled in for the flight. Then it turned out. There was something wrong with the plane. They made us wait an hour, and then had us deplane out onto the tarmac and get onto some very hot buses. At this point, I was running a fever, so standing on that bus made me feel like my eyeballs were boiling in a pot of stew. They drove us to the other side of the gate to a different plane, let us bake on the bus for about 20 minutes and then got us on the new plane. There was no issue with this plane, so they got us in the air and we flew without incident back to Dulles. After collecting our luggage, we called for an Uber and got back the house at about 12:30PM (6:30AM Portugal time).
Portugal (and Spain!) were very, very good to us, and I would not hesitate for a second to go back. Obrigado!
This is a bit of a saga to unwind, but so worth it: Some SpaceX junk fell to earth on a Saskatchewan farm, and the landowner contacted a local authority to ask who should clean it up: an astronomy professor at the local college. She talked to local media about the situation, using the opportunity to talk about unregulated space junk. SpaceX heard about this, and sent two employees in a rental truck to come and pick up their crap (portions of which took two people to lift into the truck) in front of a gaggle of local reporters and camera crews. I’m glad to see journalism still functioning, and I do hope that governments begin regulating private spaceflight before 200-lb chunks of Elon’s pet project come crashing through my roof. (via metafilter)
I haven’t written anything here in a while, but that’s not because I’m being lazy. Life is pretty jam-packed full of stuff right now, and by the time I sit down in front of this empty page, I’m usually too tired to organize any thoughts.
Work is going full-steam and I’ve got a couple of new projects I’m in charge of creating that could be very fun and interesting to produce. This week marks the beginning of the “flexible work policy,” which means simply that we are expected to be back in the office two days a week. So I have to dust off my nice shoes and start ironing my button-down shirts again to go in on Tuesday.
Meanwhile we’re burning the evening hours on a freelance project for a friend, which has sharpened my Illustrator skills and will help pay off our upcoming vacation and a bunch of bills. It’s been a challenging mixture of project management and basic technical skill, for which Jen and I have joined our Voltron powers to accomplish; I wish I could say it was exciting stuff to share, but it’s really not. We’re happy for the work even if it’s been draining at times, and I’ll admit I haven’t enjoyed sitting at my desk for 12+ hours a day.
I drove the OG-V down to Lexington Park on Saturday to visit Bob. I just put four new tires on her and did the front brakes, and she’s driving like a new car, even though she’s nearing 162K on the odometer. The weather was terrible on the way down, but by the time I pulled into his driveway it had stopped raining and an hour later the sun started peeking out of the clouds. After I went through a bunch of bills and did some housekeeping, he was happy to get out and go for tacos at a little hole-in-the-wall stand we found a couple of weeks ago, who make the best al pastor I’ve eaten since I was in Mexico City. We ran some errands and I fixed a couple of small things at the house, and then I hit the road for home in the evening.