Old Tomato Can

You know, my father used to drink coffee out of an old tomato can.

He always said, "The coffee couldn't kill you, but an old tomato can!"*

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* I didn't get that gag until I was about 30 years old. 

Consumption Culture

I'm already sick of ads about my "holiday shopping" and it's not even October yet. 

Just think how jolly I'm going to be by the time we turn the spooky corner into November.

I'll be so sick of it all that I'll feel like -- well, a new 21st Century meaning for "dying of consumption". 

There's money to be made

If you keep your eyes open while walking the neighborhood streets, you can find coins. Maybe not every day, but sometimes. 

Lately the coins I find have been ground against the ground so long they are barely recognizable. 

Are these even still legal tender? I have my doubts. Especially that clipped dime.

But twenty-two cents! On one walk! Such fun!

I don't do "To Do" these days

Back in my working-for-money days (not counting the lost year-plus when I was working the Job From Hell for The Company That Must Not Be Named), I would revise and print two simple to-do text files every afternoon before going home. One for work, that went on my ever-present managerial clipboard, and one for home, that got folded and stuck in a pocket and scribbled on over the next 24 hours as need arose. 

After I quit the JFH, and subsequently conceded workforce defeat and retired, I modernized to using Google Keep notes. For a few years I had a really neat working system of lists for recurring tasks, where I would turn individual tasks on or off for the given day. So clean! So organized! 

After some time in the summer of 2023 I sort of lost my grip, or even the desire to hold on, to the pretense of being organized and efficient at being a grownup. The panic attacks increased, and what with one thing and another, I chose the road of less toxic stress. 

Mysterious: the laundry still gets done. The supplies still get resupplied. I still cook a lot of dinners. Care gets given. And, like, wow! Without a to-do list! 

I even cleaned the toilet this morning! (I'm so proud of me!)

Herpetological Matrix Tanka

Out for my health walk

I see little fence swifts,

A type of lizard.

But there's always only one.

Are they all the same lizard?

Happy Birthday to Dad

Today is my father's birthday. 

He would have been 99 years old, if he had not lost his brief, brave fight against cancer back in 2005.

More than twenty years since his death seems impossible, since there are parts of that scar that have never really skinned over.

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"Alas! there are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured,” said Gandalf.

“I fear it may be so with mine,” said Frodo... 

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So. Today is a Sadiversary day.

Ambush

In Chapter 7 of J. D. Vance's book Communion: Finding My Way Back to Faith, he is talking about the birth of his son Ewan. He's talking about parenting advice fads, and so on. Then there is this:

"I felt one emotion above all others: fear. The way that I'd grown up had imparted a sense of fatalism. A despair that the worst parts of my past would define me." 

I can relate to that, in my own small way. An imparted sense of fatalism. Of never living up to expectations or my "great potential" as seen by others. Of always being measured and found wanting. 

Maybe I was born with an overactive flight response, and then grew up with no way to flee?

Childhood memories are crowded with episides of being told -- after the fact -- that yes, there had been expectations, that I had been told to do such and such (which I never remembered) and now it's judgment time and the verdict is YOU FAIL. I'm not blaming anybody, that's just what/who I was/am.

But then in the next paragraph after the Vance quote above, we read, "...perhaps grace was God making the impossible possible, but on His time, not ours." This is a remedy for the fatalism.

So I keep working on it. In the meantime, do excuse my reluctance about entering yet another ravine. It's just that I've been ambushed so many times.

As they used to say in the 1970s, "Please be patient, God is not finished with me yet." 

Autumn Equinox

[This post is revised and updated from 2015]

Wrap this around your mental astronomy phenomena spindle and see if you can make of it more skein than snarl!

The Autumnal Equinox in 2026 occurs at 5:05 PM PDT on Tuesday, 22 September 2026. (Please don't call it the first day of autumn or I will have to hit you with my Summer Solstice Is Midsummer bat.)

"Equinox"  means that, on that day, the time from sunrise to sunset should be equal to the time from sunset to sunrise, right?

Hah! Doesn't work that way.

Wednesday actually has about 5 more minutes of daylight than Friday. On Friday 25 September we actually get a length of day that is 12 hours 1 minute and 22 seconds. And Saturday 26 September has a time between sunrise and sunset that is 11 hours 58 minutes -- so Saturday the 26th is actually this year's winner in the Autumn "Day = Night"  contest.

Why?

First, the astronomical definition of equinox refers to the moment the earth, in its orbit around the sun, crosses a particular point in reference to what astronomers call the fixed stars. Plus, we must remember that "Day Equals Night" day wanders because of the earth's axis-wobble with respect to the earth's elliptical orbit. This wobble is known as the precession of the equinox. The precession happens ve-e-e-r-r-y s-slo-o-o-owly (!) but it it make a difference. At this point, a difference of some days. 

You're welcome.

Where You Were and When

Some years ago I started noticing the ads from the grocery store seemed to know when I went to the grocery store. Figures: grocery store "rewards card" pins it down, plus more recently I tend to connect to the store wi-fi. My choice. Creepy, but whatevs. 

A story on Slashdot opens up a bit of how creepy things are getting. Vandals tore down and stole a Flock camera, hacked the data it contained, and shared it with a cutout organization that in turn shared it with 404 Media and Wired. (Slashdot gives all the links, so go there for the details.)

From Slashdot: "...Flock has described its system as protected by on-device encryption, 'The hackers were able to copy the camera's storage and recover an encryption key stored on the device, which unlocked videos of thousands of vehicle detections.' "  More: "...software running on the camera explicitly detects people... When it spots a person, it records where they appear in the image and how confident it is in the detection." (emphasis mine)

Looks like somebody's making a jump from google ads toward Skynet.

Hundred Mile an Hour Tape?

Driving over one of our local bridges recently, a horrible noise started. Sounded like a demon had landed on top of my car and was vigorously whipping the car. 

It might have been demonic attack, but the proximate cause he used involved the disintegration of the aerodynamic rubber dingus connecting my radio antenna to the car top sheet metal. In certain conditions (65 plus or minus MPH ground speed plus a stiff head- or cross-wind) created a vortex in which the now-too-flexible antenna would rapidly smack smack smack smack smack the top. 

Quick solution: bamboo skewers and Gorilla Tape. In the old days the Air Force used a bullet-hole patching tape that was, I think, a self-adhesive aluminum foil. The metal tape was commonly called Hundred Mile an Hour Tape (actually used far in excess of 100 MPH). Will the Gorilla Tape fix hold up? I hope so?  And it ought to -- we're only talking about going freeway speeds plus maybe a 40 mile an hour cross-wind off the port bow. 

We'll see!

Circumlocution Office Language (re-post from 12/2018)

I have a small sampling of circumlocutions, collected haphazardly over the last twenty years or so, since I decided a sampler of 21st Century gibberish might be valuable. Today is the day I stuff and mount these husks for display in the Crowndot Circumlocution Museum.

The phrase that started all this is "knowledge amid general understanding." In 1998 the Republic Powdered Metals company, manufacturer of a waterproofing material for the interior rain gutters in metal buildings, included this documentation:

Part 1 General

1.01 Applicator's Qualifications

  1. Applicator shall have knowledge amid general understanding of building design as well as Republic's products specified for the project.

I imagine a committee trying to write a "Gutter Liner Specification" document. I imagine some overly honest member of the committee saying something to himself, only he actually said it out loud: "Well, they ought to know what the fuck they're doing in the first place..." Instead of being kicked out of the meeting, the chairperson agrees, and puts the question of how to say that without actually saying that. 

Another phrase that came into use around the turn of the millennium is "compatibility issues." In fact, the "Y2K" era was the beginning of describing a problem as an issue. If there's a problem, there's a possibility of blame. If there's an issue, gee, well, everybody's got "issues" and nobody's to blame, right? So if The End Of The World As We Know It happened one second after midnight on the First of January, 2000 -- well, there were some compatibility issues. That's all. 

In fact, here is a real quote from a British credit card company spokesman when 20,000 of their card-swipers failed during a "Pre-Y2K" test on 27 December 1999:

It is a software time and date related issue, which will be resolved and we're entirely confident that terminals will revert to full functionality.

On 20 March 2002 I first encountered the term "Open Issue" (meaning unresolved problem" in the readme.txt file distributed with UPS Online WorldShip software. "We still have some open issues..." means "Shit keeps happening and we have no idea what the hell we're going to do or when or if the problems are going to be addressed!"

A story on Slashdot.com posted by Zonk on 6 January 2006 and titled "Microsoft Censors Chinese Bloggers" quotes a Ziff-Davis article saying "Occasionally, as in China, local laws and practices require consideration of unique elements..." Unique Elements. Which means, Microsoft never did hold any values above $ale$ Dollar$.

Product descriptions, formerly in print, and now online, receive ever less editorial scrutiny. A listing from CDI in January 2006 for the Ultra ATX 600-Watt SATA-Ready power supply lists among specifications, "Low Acoustic Noise." As opposed to electomagnetic "noise" I guess? It also boasted "Thermal Overload Cutoff Protection" which sounds like it means that it protects the circuit breaker from cutting off in the event it overheats. 

Circumlocution is nothing new. Read Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens (Really -- it's a great book!). Dickens invented the term. One of the great practitioners of the past was "journalist" Will Duranty, who sang thus about the Holodomor while telling his readers that there had indeed been "serious food shortages" in the Ukraine: there was "no actual starvation" and furthermore "no deaths from starvation" -- merely "widespread mortality from diseases due to malnutrition." Oh. All right then. 

In 2011 I was told by a customer at the Valero refinery in Benicia, "We are rapidly becoming critical path on our coker!" Me no know what that mean. But I assume he means that if the repair schedule isn't shortened to IMMEDIATELY!, bad shit is gonna happen -- and when it hits the fan, there will be plenty to spread around to everybody.

In 2012 the Obama economy got worse and worse. A spokesperson for the president insisted the economy was not in a recession or depression; it was not contracting, in his view, it merely showed numbers "consistent with a weakening growth backdrop."

In August 2016 it came to light that Defense Department intelligence assessments about ISIS had been skewed to downplay the threat and the White House (remember the "Junior Varsity" comment?) incompetence. "The facts on the ground didn't match what the intelligence was saying out of the United States Central Command," said then-Representative Mike Pompeo (R-Kansas), adding that the intel had clearly been "manipulated." In response, one Lieutenant Commander Patrick L. Evans spoke from the Pentagon to say that the intelligence community assessments were "based on multifaceted data related to the security environment." Whatever that means.

I got an email from FedEx on 13 May 2017:

FedEx experienced interference with some of our systems which caused disruptions to the FedEx Express Memphis Hub sort operations. We immediately implemented contingency plans to minimize the impact to our customers. We regret any inconvenience this may have caused.

The email concluded by reminding us that, "consistent with the provisions of the FedEx Service Guide, the money-back guarantee is not in effect for FedEx Express packages due for delivery on May 13, 2017." Great money-back guarantee, that.

Democratic Socialists

REVOLUTION 

RevOluTion

RevOlTin

R O T .

The Funnel

This picture is a common representation of the gravity field of a black hole. I think the intention is to show that if you try to walk from east to west straight across the x-y "plane" at the top, you're going to fall into one of the biggest ant lion traps in the cosmos. 

If we cut the tip off the sharp end of the hyperboloid, we get a cool funnel. You may have fed coins into one of those mesmerizing funnels where the coin rolls around and around faster and faster, in smaller and smaller orbits, until it plunks into a collection box at the bottom (ideally for charitable purposes).

I have recently decided that life is like the coin's trip down the hyperboloid funnel.

When I was not many years old, a year seemed just shy of infinitely long. Personal potential was so much greater than actualized personality. Birthdays and holidays took a long, long time to arrive.

As we age, the decisions we make and the roads we go down mean an infinite (that is, indefinite) number of choices and directions have been left behind. We become more and more Who We Are, and our orbits down the funnel become smaller and smaller.

Also faster and faster. Seems that way at least. "Age and age's evils" that Hopkins wrote about in his Leaden Echo suddenly surround and overwhelm us. There seems to be less and less time between Christmases. Church on Sunday keeps feeling like didn't we just do this a moment ago?

At my age I'm heading into those dizzying narrows.

Is there any way to focus, hold on, slow down? "Is there any, any, any...?," I ask with Hopkins. There's gratitude, for one. There's the kind of prayer that notices and memorializes moments of beauty. There is the calm that comes from making peace with the fact that some day we must surely die. And until that day, there's leaning on the everlasting arms of Jesus.

From the Mighty Oak...

...The tiny acorns grow. 

It's that time of year. 

To me the scent of autumn has more to do with the tannin smell of oak and other leaves, and not so much to do with industrial grade "pumpkin spice".

Numbering our days

"Teach us to number our days,

    that we may gain a heart of wisdom." 

          -- Psalm 90:12

Sunday 13 September 2026 is, in the Roman Catholic Church, the Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time. Before the calendar was revised, it would have been known as the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost. 

The "Ordinary Time" system makes it easier, I suppose, to find the set of readings in the Lectionary book. The old system made it easier for the faithful to locate themselves within the liturgical year. 

Which is more useful? Which is better? 

I guess that depends on who you are. But I have a feeling the "Ordinary Time" system is leaning a bit toward the clericalist end of things. 

Torchlight II

Here we see Yuki_Senpai some weeks ago as a level eighty-something Embermage, dual-wielding wands and taking in the vista at a scenic overlook in the Temple Steppes outside of the Estherian Enclave in the universe of Torchlight II.

One of the endearing things about T2 is that it still runs on my not-so-new laptop. Another endearing thing is I get to kill monsters. The monsters are all very unambiguously Bad Guys. My character is the hero saving this world from the tyrannical ambitions of the Evil Overlord. 

I try not to think too much about the number of hours I have spent playing various characters over the last -- oh about eight years? -- on three computers? Judge not.

Some people play Bunco. Some people go to the Spa. I blow up monsters. It refreshes the soul. You may call it habit forming, but at least it's completely free of sugar or alcohol!

The Dark of the Moon

 New Moon is Saturday, 12 Aug 2026 10:37 AM, PDT.

Why does it matter? The brain is mostly water, you know. So whether you live near saltwater coasts or not, the pull of sun and moon at New Moon time affects us all more than we would like to admit. At least that's what I tell myself. Brain Tides. You have been warned. 

Also, it's going to be extra dark in the dungeons the next couple of nights, so take extra torches or brush up on your Lumos spell. Stay safe, adventurers!

Nine Eleven after 25 years

Yes I remember exactly where I was when I heard a plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers. News about the attack flowed out. Much of the horror only came before my eyes in the following days.

More than two hundred of the people in the no-exit top floors of the World Trade Center decided to jump to their deaths rather than suffocate or be burned alive.

The death cult that continues to perpetrate terror attacks (you know the one I mean) delenda est. Hopefully the elimination of that evil will not take the 1200 years or so that it took to get to this point. But I feel like our response in these past twenty-five years has been much too soft. 

No Nutmeggy Anything Please

The-Whiteboard.com is a web comic I have followed since way back when it was in black and white! 

In this frame Pirta (the snow leopard) is at the coffee shop run by Cara (the polar bear). Pirta's order for plain black coffee is what prompts Cara's question. 

Oh how I can relate to that rejection of "Pumpkin Spice" season! Pumpkin spice should be reserved to pumpkin pie. Even the pie should remain forever free of nutmeg!

How does my garden grow?

One of the healthiest plants I see around Casa Crowndot is spurge.

The Euphorbia genus is one of the most prolific and successful kinds of plants on Earth. They grow just about everywhere -- at in my yard.

It's frustrating: when I try to grow the more glamorous (to me -- can I help it that I like thorns?) varieties of Euphorbia, they end up dead. But the ones that plant themselves? Thriving. Simply thriving. Even in the heat!

My body is trying to kill me.

In diverse ways. For years. Sometimes the world really is trying to kill me -- like in a near-miss traffic situation. What happens is, once I am well and truly out of that situation, the stress-response hormone (adrenalin?) kicks in, and the brain and gland chemical firehose starts going full blast, with all the secondary symptoms of pulse and blood pressure and probably a headache. Not fun. I would much rather the world just left me alone. 

I'm Retired. Don't Bug Me.

When I don't feel up to anything else, I play. On my phone. 

Spider Solitaire (one suit).

Or Freecell (I'm getting better at that one).

Or crossword puzzles.

I guess we'll see, won't we, whether this activity helps keep my brain from aging. Or whether this activity is a sign that it's already too late!  

Manual Transmission

I took my driving test in 1974 in my Dad's V8 Fordamatic, but truly I learned how to drive in my Mom's 1972 Toyota Corolla rear wheel drive with the long shift knob that went down to the drive shaft hump between the bucket seats. 

I have a preference for manual transmissions that was only strengthened by some years driving a Ford LTD company car station wagon that had a vacuum-advance carburetor spark adlustment and a slow responding automatic transmission. When you tromped down on the gas pedal because you needed to get out of a tight driving situation, you could count on several long seconds before it downshifted. 

The Wall Street Journal (link) says that right now in the USA only a dwindling fraction of drivers can drive a car with a clutch. To make matters worse, the WSJ article says, "In 1980, some 35% of cars produced in the U.S. were manuals. Today that figure is closer to 1%..." 

Yikes! When it comes to that, maybe putting an unreasonable amount of money into auto repair on my stick shift 2007 Mazda3 will be a good investment. ...Assuming there will be any mechanics left that can work on it!

(Ichi, ni, san, shi, go!  -- my Japanese shift knob!)

Lucky Cat Dish

Sometimes Neko-san holds my teabag. These days I use more loose leaf tea than teabags.

But lucky cat is not unemployed. Most evenings he holds my dinnertime medications and supplements. Having a happy friend hand me my pills makes me happy.

Also I have it on good authority that the cuter the food, the better it is for you. That *must* be true for the health benefits of medication, right? 

Thank you, Neko-san. 

           ☺️

Autumn brings baking weather

Banana muffins happened.

Mashing together the bananas and sugar is avery good excuse to use the immersion blender.

No pumpkin spice is used. Cinnamon and allspice, as the Creator intended.  Mmmm!

Hospital Tanka

You are prepped and tubed,

Waiting for the surgery.

I should be thankful

That the minutes feel so long.

At our age clock hands move fast. 

Will there always be an Ireland?

"For where there are Irish there’s bound to be fighting,

And when there’s no fighting, it’s Ireland no more!

Ireland no more!" 

-- Rudyard Kipling, "The Irish Guards" 

Overrun by Mohammedan hordes? Want to take your country back?

It's hard effectively to "speak truth to power" with words or deeds once you've been censored and disarmed by some species of totalitarianism. Just ask the people of Iran. 

The computer in my pocket

I am in ceasefire negotiations with the part of me that always said I needed a full size keyboard if I was ever going to write anything. I think the parts of me are almost ready for a prisoner swap as a show of good faith. 

I had that old me over a barrel because he needed me to rescue the notes and tag ends of brainstorms from the ruins of that Ubuntu laptop the he was trying to use to write that Young Adult semi-SciFi time travel novel. *I* had the tech savvy to download the text artifacts. I turn over the e-archeological remains, and in return? I get to post short-format stream of conscientiosness fluff. Pennies down the wishing well. Roses tossed on the current of the Thames. Japanese poetry in English. Memories. Memento mori. 

If the habit forms it could be quick and fun to check in. No plans, just hopes.