Saturday, May 17, 2008

Gadget Whore

MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH


About 2 1/2 years ago, I got my first Apple product. It was a sexy, 30GB video iPod. Signifying just how lame I, er, still am, I had it engraved with the words 'luceo porro immortalis,' using Apple's free engraving service if you ordered it through their web site. It was, at the time, the best technological event of my life.
Then, a little over a year ago, wearied by the trials of my Windows machine, perpetually crashing like a planeful of jihadis, I decided to cast my lot with the sleek, seductively stylish MacBook.
I wasn't disappointed — The spare, yet classy design won me over from first click; my boot time decreased by what must have been an order of magnitude; and I was no longer forced to support Bill Gates' coke-off-a-Lamborghini's-muffler habit. I could even run Windows on the same computer — and did so for a while, until it was doing nothing but taking up space.
In January I was back in California trying to wash the cabbage smell out of my hair, entrusted by my roommate with $400 and instructions to pluck the latest fruit from the Apple tree, that is, the sumptuous new iPhone.
I never even knew I needed an Internet-enabled, music-device, touch-screen phone with a user interface that was smooth as as a ...
But enough with the smilies ... the point is that what I didn't know could have filled its 16 gigabyte flash drive. Before I was content in my ignorance, content to stay in touch with a device that in hindsight was hardly discernible in form or features from an overdone beef fillet... Smugly assured that I didn't need gadgets to give meaning to my life.
And that's the problem with ignorance: the self-satisfaction you gain from refusing to pluck the Apple of knowledge. Pride is, after all, a deadly sin.

Prometheus Unbound

Roboticists at the University of Pennsylvania create a robot that can self-assemble.



The Japanese love their robots, fine. But then they get the bright idea to equip them with lasers.



Via Endgaget.

Back in Blog

I haven't blogged in a while, largely because of being busy, but I also lost interest for a short time.
But anyway, I will try to keep up with my bloggy duties a bit more often now, especially in light of recent events.
In particular, I will be instituting a few new series:

  1. Prometheus Unbound: This series will chronicle humanity's foolish attempts to unmake itself as the moment of singularity draws nigh. In particular, we will follow the follies of those who have ignored the warnings of Terminator, Battlestar Gallatica and The Matrix and are making ever more powerful and intelligent robots.
  2. Inferno Politicus: This series will document the craven, power-mongering depravity of those who seek public office, with an imaginative appendix predicting precisely what their fate will be in hell. First up: Tom Harkin chained to the wheel of a moving tractor as steroid-enhanced hens peck at his eyeballs throughout eternity.
  3. The Russophone: Man, this country is bizzare. I should be writing about it more.

Friday, February 8, 2008

nomina nuda tenemus

Peter
Pete
Petey
Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater
Centimeter Peter
Pedro
Pyotr
Petya
France
Francy-Pants
Young Buck
Mini-Beast
Medved
Big Head
Chief
Weasel
Duder
Old Man Pete
80s Pete
Fat Feet Pete
Big Feet Pete
Poppet
Peter Piper

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Isolde u down teh rivers.

This is the most brilliant thing I have ever seen.
Ever.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

Dude

I'm not sure exactly how long I've been waiting for a movie that has Sam Elliott, Eva Green and bad-ass warrior bears all wrapped in to one awesome package, but I'm pretty sure it's been a long time.
Anyway, the time has arrived:



'The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe' got close with the polar bears that pulled the White Witch's chariot, but it didn't take the obvious next step - which was to have the yoke's bolts come loose somehow, and the terrible duo go on and wreak their ursine havoc on the advancing Narnians.

Creativity is hard like that. Things that seem so obvious to us now - Newtonian mechanics, sterilization, warrior bears - are in truth nontrivial summits to mount, requiring a few exceptionally inspired souls to look up from the confused morass that defines their world and step beyond.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Bold Move Pays Off


Bold Move Pays Off
Originally uploaded by 4durt

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Тест журнала Коммерсантъ ВЛАСТЬ

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Hmm...

Maybe Fred isn't so strange after all...


Natural Born Killer?

Cats kill "not only for sustenance, but also seemingly for the sheer pleasure of it. 'Even when fed regularly by people,' Temple and Coleman wrote, 'a cat continues hunting.' ... Various studies credit alley cats with up to 28 kills [of birds] per year. Farm cats, Temple and Coleman observed, get many more than that. Comparing their findings with all the available data, they estimated that in rural Wisconsin, around 2 million free-ranging cats kill at minimum 7.8 million, but possibly upwards of 219 million, birds per year.
That's in rural Wisconsin alone."
-Alan Weisman, The World Without Us

Campaigning

Sick of the presidential campaign already? Not sure if you can take another 14 months of inane sloganeering and ridiculous posturing?
Then rejoice that you don't live in Russia, compared to which American elections look downright subtle and thoughtful.


"Putin's plan is the victory of Russia!"
-The United Russia Party

Milan Was Funny

Or maybe I was in a mood.

The Duomo
Brought to you by Marie Claire.


Milanese Fashion

Dude's reading a McDonalds health summary chart.


Not to put too fine a point on it...



...It's Super-Photographer

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Get Your War On

One of the unexpected results of living in Moscow has been a slight - how to say - realignment of certain ideas. Don't worry - I'm not talking about a creeping cosmopolitanism, no jejune cultural epiphany that has liberated me from my mental encumbrances and opened me to the wisdom of other cultures. In fact, if anything, it's just the opposite. Let me explain.

Russia has a holiday regimen similar to ours, if a bit strange. Our Christmas is divided into their New Year and Christmas. Their New Year's is when all the festivities happen, all the secular folderol that we celebrate on Dec 25, while their Christmas retains a strictly religious import. Then there is International Woman's Day - Soviet in origin, it is still a relatively important day in which all the men give gifts to the women in their lives. Its parallel is Defenders of the Fatherland Day, which has become equivalent to a 'Men's Day.' (I suppose given Russia's universal male service requirement, this is a reasonable extrapolation, however, the day was originally intended as a type of veterans day). Russia has an Independence Day (June 12) that, while a federal holiday requiring the day off, passes unremarkably. The big day, the biggest day of the year, the holiday to end all holidays comes on May 9. Victory Day.

It is impossible to overemphasize the shear scope of the 'Great Patriotic War' in the Russian imagination. If you sometimes balk at invocations of 'The Greatest Generation,' and sundry other forms of WWII mythologizing in the US... you ain't seen nothing.

'Is it true that Americans think that they won the war?' I've had this conversation a couple of times, and don't even bother asking which war.
'Well, yes, it's true that most Americans overestimate our role in the conflict, forgetting that we didn't even deal with the lion's share of the axis forces, nor were we the ones to sack Berlin. At the same time, it's not at all clear that the Soviet Union could have won the war by itself.'
'But we lost 11,000,000 soldiers, the U.S. only lost 11,000. [Yes, they really have casualty statistics memorized] You see, we beat the Fascists!'
Of course, were I a less diplomatic person, I would take issue with the invocation of military deaths as a measure of military strength, but at this point I usually defer, and leave my interlocutor confident in the superiority of their educational system.

Nor has the myth-making changed in the new Russia. When Putin called the fall of the Soviet Union "the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century," it was hard for us to understand how this could be anything other than naked Soviet revanchism. That's true to an extent, but only in the sense that the Soviet era is to many just one manifestation of a more foundational, epochal, Russian empire.

For these reasons and others, I've grown to a sort of loathing of national triumphalism. And it is in this context that I read one of the more odious statements of the U.S. presidential campaign so far.
Right says Fred:

Our people have shed more blood for the liberty and freedom of other peoples … than all the other countries put together.
Now, the falseness of this statement should be apparent to someone with even the most casual acquaintance with history. On this account, Larison supplies the necessary figures. But almost worse, in my estimation, is the sentiment.
What if it were true? Would it, then, give us the right to be proud? Could we swagger into the bar of nations, aura of martyrdom shining around us, and expect all our nation friends to quail in the shadow of our magnanimity?

Again, its difficult to say what's worse about national myth-making: its fraudulence, or the supercilious Christ-complex it promotes.
"If it weren't for us, those cheese-eating surrender monkeys the French would all be speaking German," is a refrain I've heard more than once.
Nevermind the fact that France and the Low Countries shared a long, unobstructed border with the greatest martial power ever to exist at that point; nor pay heed to the fact that Naziism was never linguistically imperialistic, preferring the German tongue only be used by pure-blooded Germans. Nor, finally, that we fought to save half of Europe from a maniac who slaughtered people for their race, only to give the other half to a maniac who slaughtered indiscriminately.
We're practically Christ: We died to save the world from harsh gutturals.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Dyin' Ain't Much of a Livin', Boy

These words from "The Outlaw Josie Wales" have been the only non-essential bit of information on my Facebook profile for at least a year now, and now I see that it has been brazenly robbed by Andrew Sullivan for his series: "Best. Movie. Line. Ever."
To the victor and all that...
But the link to the YouTube clip may have been worth it.

Friday, August 3, 2007

Interesting

So I saw Harry Potter today.
Before I get to the film, some background. All movies in Russia are dubbed. Actually, from what I hear, all foreign movies in most countries are dubbed, and America and a handful of Western European countries seem to be alone in preferring subtitles, the clearly superior way of consuming this medium. If that doesn't spur your nationalistic pride I'm not sure what will.
Anyway, it has only been since films began to be distributed digitally that the dubbing has even been worth a damn. Before, the local studios basically received a product with the audio tracks already integrated, so in order to keep the sound effects, you had to retain the voice tracks as well. Watch any movie on TV more than a few years old and you get this ridiculous mish-mash. For 1.9 seconds you hear the actor's original voice until the dubbing kicks in and almost drowns it out. Now, for someone who has to concentrate to understand the dubbed language and who fully understands the native language, this makes the movie watching experience something akin to watching those war sequences in Saving Private Ryan. (You can talk as much as you like about it conveying to the viewer the confusion, brutality and senselessness of war; I call it shaking the camera around really fast: A technique my dog Max could surpass with a camera tied to his back, thanks to the mollifying quality of his canine corpulence). Anyway, Harry Potter was rather well dubbed, so three cheers for the digital revolution.

Secondly, I noticed that Voldemort's name in Russian is Volandamort. The first two or three times that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was... well... named, I thought I misheard. But then, I got it. Voldemort, to our Anglophone ears, is a very sinister sounding name: partly from the deep, round, o sounds; partly from the Latinate influence (from mors, mortis meaning 'death'). But Russians don't have the same associations that we do (whether conscious or not). So, the question is, how does a Russian translator make the name sound sinister to the popular Russian imagination?

Volandamort.

Thirty-two brownie points to the person who guesses why.

God Damn It

If you'll recall, among the topics I enumerated in my list was an in-depth from-the-trenches report on Moscow's Mullets, the hairstyle of the new elite. Well, I see that The Exile has not only scooped me, and has probably done a better job than I would have, but it was published on the same freakin' day that I made that post. Oh well. For those who can't be bothered to click through, here are the money quotes:

To understand the Russian mullet, you have to go back to the early 1980s, to the beginning of Russia's "rock renaissance." Specifically, to Viktor Tsoi, the legendary dead front man of Kino, who sported a classic 80s I-used-to-be-stadium-rock-but-now-I'm-New-Wave mullet of the sort you'd see on a Steve Perry of Journey or a Billy Squier. The mullet somehow vibed with Tsoi's Asiatic features (he was half-Korean) and immediately spawned a trend among his millions of fans.

When the Soviet Union broke up in 1991, the mullet collapsed like so much inefficient state industry, giving way to the worst of the West's imports: the eurofag techno hairstyles of the 90s. Like, who can forget the Caesar?

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Turn and Face the Strain...

Changes are in the cards for your humble blogger...
Having been somewhat dissatisfied with my job for a while (due to a number of issues, the chief among them being the rather ridiculously high work/pay ratio), I decided to drop that business like a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind.
I sent a letter of resignation giving one month's notice on the 19th of July and for nearly a week received no reply, despite several follow up emails, until one of my colleagues told me that she was taking over my classes and asked me why I was leaving. Stay classy, Language Link.
The same day, finally, my supervisor called me and said that, instead of staying for the rest of the month, it would be easier to replace me at the beginning of August. Fair enough... it is a rather difficult juggling job to seamlessly replace teachers, especially for those that teach In Company.
Long story short, I'm still waiting on a second letter from the director (who seems impossible to get a hold of by other means) confirming that I can have the full month that I gave as notice to stay in my apartment as well as some questions about visa issues.
In any event, I got a job as a copy editor at the English language paper in Moscow, The Moscow Times. I've been working there for a few Sundays and think it will be something much more to my taste and skills. Also, it won't inflict the stress that traveling all day on the Moscow metro entails.
I also found a new flat, as my current abode is controlled by Language Fink Link. Its a bit nicer than my current place, and in a somewhat nicer area.
Lastly, in changing employers, it is necessary to get a new work visa, which can only be done by leaving and re-entering the country. Italy will probably be my mandatory vacation destination as I can stay with a friend there. I'm still waiting (see:above) to find out if I can stay until the 28th on my current visa or if I have to leave on the 18th.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Scary Picture of the Day - Part 2!

So I charted the places I've been onto this Facebook application, and the picture that emerged in Europe was a little strange.



Flip it along the y=-x axis and you have a perfect sickle and hammer (minus a hammerhead).

On the other hand, I just finished reading Foucault's Pendulum a few hours ago, so maybe I am a little susceptible right now to hermetic and occult inferences.

Update: It just occurred to me that today's date on the Julian Calendar is 2/7/2007! Add the digits together and you get 18 - the only number that is twice the sum of its digits. And those digits together and you get 9 - the maximum number of cubes that are needed to sum to any positive integer! 9! The number of circles of hell and spheres of heaven! 9! The number of planes of existence according to our Norse fathers!

Is anyone else, like, totally freaked out?

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Friday, July 13, 2007

A List

Of topics that have occurred to me for blog posts that I haven't gotten around to making yet:

  • An in-depth 'from the trenches' report --- Mulletology: A Hairstyle and the Moscow Elite. (With Pictures!)
  • Why doesn't the Blogspot built-in dictionary recognize the word 'blog?'
  • The evolution of titling schemes over the centuries.
  • What I've learned after (almost) 6 months of teaching English.
  • Nostalgia Blogging: What ever happened to heads of state leading their armies into battle?
  • What Russian Women Want.
  • Why Russian Women Are Wanted.
  • Political Incorrectness and English Language textbooks.
  • Alcoholism in Russia. (NB: I really don't have anything to say about this, so it would, sadly, only be pictures of men passed out a variety of places and positions at 10 am).
  • Why the Die Hard cycle is the best thing that ever happened to movies. Ever. (NB: this isn't some counter-intuitive argument about how its badness acts as some kind of cure for the malaise that contemporary cinema finds itself in. It's about how hard Die Hard rocks.)
  • Why the Beatles really suck. (And why George Harrison was their only redeeming quality (though insufficient to counter the John-Paul axis of stupid)).
  • The peculiarities of Western art penetration into the former Soviet Union. Why are Deep Purple and O'Henry huge over here, but no one has ever heard of the Who or Melville?
Since it is doubtful that I will ever write all of these, I am soliciting requests.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Invention

If God didn't exist, it would be necessary to invent him.
-Voltaire

If Dick Cheney didn't exist, he would be invented by a communist propogandist.
-Me