Journal – Page 49

Virtual Tourist

My brother and sister sent me Dallas Kachan’s Starship Diaries for my birthday last month. It’s a book about a guy who got lucky in the dot-com boom, bought an airplane (a Beech Starship, one of the most interesting aircraft of the late 20th century) and flew around the world in it.

It’s quite an engaging story, although my early impression was that Kachan was in need of an editor. He was always pulling back on the control “yolk,” and the passive voice was used extensively.

Then more things began to niggle. His description of air traffic control terminology seem just a tiny bit off. But what do I know, I’ve only put-putted around the Lower Mainland in a few lessons in a Cherokee. His exposition of linguistics was, well, eyebrow-raising, and his politics seemed naive.

And he wasn’t a terribly good pilot. He’d leave the cockpit to use the lavatory in mid-flight, he fell asleep at the wheel numerous times, and he’d forget to double-check essential calculations and almost run out of fuel over trackless wastes or open ocean.

Then he began to conflate entire countries in his narrative, visiting tourist attractions in one day that were thousands of miles apart in different countries. I found myself thinking “He couldn’t have just made it all up, could he?”

Heh. Turns out he did. He flew around the world on his computer, using Microsoft Flight Simulator, and then made up the grand tales of his adventures at each stop. It’s supremely gratifying that I started wondering about his story before I found this out :-)

Preconceptions

I suspect I may be seeing some visitors to this site from a certain group of friends who’ve not seen this blog before, or been exposed to the full intensity of my political ranting. Consider that we’ve recently been talking about reconsidering certain preconceptions that we hold dear.

Consider also that I grew up in a totalitarian dictatorship.

Now try to keep an open mind about the following statements:

George W. Bush is neither:
- a fundamentalist
- a liar
- an idiot
- a puppet controlled by (pick one)
  - big business
  - the religious right
  - shadow neo-con conspiracies.
Bush’s foreign policy deserves praise precisely because it does away with 50 years of Cold War realpolitik and amoral pragmatism.
Bush’s foreign policy has been directly responsible for amazing events in the world lately, including:
- Libya giving up its nuclear program
- Pakistan revealing the existence of the Libya-Iran-North Korea nuclear axis
- municipal elections in Saudi Arabia
- municipal elections in Palestine
- the Israeli pullout from Gaza, along with the recent thaw in Israeli/Palestinian relations
- massive popular revolt in Ukraine leading to real democratic elections
- mass pro-democracy and anti-Syrian protests in Lebanon, leading Syria to end its 20-year illegal occupation of Arab territory.
The American invasion of Iraq saved at least 10,000 more lives than it took.
Life in Afghanistan and Iraq is objectively better now than in 2000.
Of the conflicts of the last 20 years that have been successfully ended by international action, the UN has been responsible for none and the US at least 4.
The United Nations was complicit in allowing Saddam Hussein and the governments of France and Canada to siphon off hundreds of millions of dollars of aid money that was supposed to be buying milk for starving Iraqi children.
The Kyoto Accord is a pointless and hypocritical face-saving exercise. Oh, and it wasn’t George W. Bush who refused to sign it.

If you disagree with any of the statements above, what is your evidence for doing so? “Everybody knows” doesn’t cut it.

Party Animal

I finally got somewhere on my bike on Saturday — rode around Stanley Park. I’m so out of shape that the traffic jam of people walking, roller-blading and biking on the seawall served to make me moderate my velocity. I know I’ve said this before, but I always get a kick out of how diverse Vancouver is. I always hear a dozen languages, at least, out on the seawall. There’s people of all shapes and guises: dignified elderly couples out for a stroll, suited Japanese sararimen riding knock-kneed on rented classic bicycles, little white-haired ladies in tights, pads and roller-blades, kids on skateboards, parents pushing or towing strollers or carrying tired children, dogs scrambling to keep up or loping lazily along. And all in the bright sunshine, cool breeze, green trees, blue water, white sails. You couldn’t ask for a nice place to live, really.

The usual suspects collected here on Saturday evening for chocolate fondue and hot-tubbing. Much fun was had, and although we didn’t get into the usual heated philosophical or theological debate, it was nice to just hang out and talk of frivolous things. Like child care, as I recall. Since none of us have children, this would follow how, exactly?

Ken Shigamatsu preached an even more trenchant than usual sermon today. Strange how he’s probably the polar opposite of Ross Hastings, but I enjoy — is that the right word? — his preaching just as well.

So tonight I thought I’d make up for missing a couple of weeks of my one-night-a-week dine out policy. So I went to Capones, an Italian place just down the street. Ceasar salad, lamb & rosemary sausage penne, a nice glass of chianti and orange cheescake, not to mention the live jazz piano later, I’m feeling well sufficed.

Now to put away the groceries, read a bit, and to bed. A lazy and civilized weekend.

We Few

With apologies to the denizens of the Scary Devil Monastery:

This day is called the feast of Finagle:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will cringe in misery when the day is named,
And hide him at the name of Finagle.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil LART his neighbors,
And say “To-morrow is St. Finagle.”
Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say “These wounds I had from PC case.”
Admins forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll be post-traumatic till the end.
What feats he did that day! Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as aged scotch,
Simon the Bastard, Shmuel and Shaw,
Kami and Kaze, Holdsworth and Murphy
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d.
This story shall the bitter man teach none;
And Fingle’s Finagle shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the Unix over-roll,
But we in it shall be un-sober.
We few, we angry few, we band of Bastards;
For he tonight that bloods a server rack
Shall be my PFY; MCSE no matter,
This night shall agravate his disposition.
And gentlemen in England now abed
Will thank their lucky stars they weren’t on call,
And keep their sanity — they were not here,
Admin with us upon St Fingle’s day.