Since moving into our new home, we’ve been trying to sort out our home audio situation. We listen to a lot of music[1] around here. Though we were feeling cramped, one of the nice things about our condo’s small footprint was the fact that that the music could be heard throughout the house without having to “go to 11″. The iMac was hooked up directly to the stereo and one click in iTunes and we had music.
Though we love our new place, things are significantly more disconnected: the iMac is in the office, the stereo is in the family room, and we spend most of our time upstairs (where there is but an old shelf system with a broken CD player but a working tape deck). We’ve made due with the aux inputs and old iPod minis. But it’s not quite the same.
Our preference would be to ape our previous situation as much as possible[2] and some kind of wireless situation seems to be the way to go. But wireless systems out there all seem either woefully inadequate
In that way, “oddly enough” an Apple hardware-based solution has seemed thus far to be the way to go. Airport Express
There’s just one important (to us) question:
When I play a song via tv is it going to increment that song’s play count in iTunes (like an iPod syncing back to the mothership)? or is it going to give me the audio but that’s all (like iTunes sharing over WiFi)?
Thus far I haven’t found a straight answer to this[4]. And as I look further into this, and as the answer to my question starts to look more and more like a “no” then the chief advantage of the tv seems to have gone out the window.
Without that synchronization of the play counts, ratings, etc., then there is effectively nothing that the tv can give me (at “just $229″ USD, MSRP) that I cannot get from a shared-over-WiFi iTunes library and the MacBook (and/or Pro) we already have in the house. And if we want to add video, a mini DisplayPort to HDMI adapter
“Did you ever hear the word ‘derivatives’?” he said. “Do you think our guys could have invented, say, credit default swaps? Give me a break! They couldn’t have done the math.”
Fucking smart guys…
…and here sit the 28 percent of the American people who still thought Mr. Bush was doing a heckuva job at the end, gnashing their teeth, hoping and praying for something horrible to happen such as an infestation of locusts or the disappearance of the sun, something to make the president look bad, which is not a good place for a political party to be, hoping for the country to slide into chaos. When you bet against America, you are choosing long odds.
Dear CostCo folks—
My shopping experience with you has been pretty satisfactory so far.
First off, I’m not in it for the aesthetics—the warehouse space is clean but can be a bit overwhelming and crowded and maybe even bewildering. And that’s OK—it’s become something of a joke[1] which eases the tension enough for us to deal.
Second, we’ve figured out the pricing scheme well-enough to not get totally screwed. We figured out which of the perishable items we can eat fast enough. We’ve figured out where we’re saving 5-15%, where we’re saving that awesome 20+%, and where we’re paying basically the same[2]. So we’re on good footing there.
What’s bugging me though… Why so lax on the quality of certain food items? In particular, let’s focus on the foodstuffs targeted at and/or intended for kids. Example: tonight we decided against purchasing a metric ton of apple sauce because it contained high fructose corn syrup. Seriously, what adult is eating apple sauce out of a little three ounce container? That there is for kids. Ditch Mott’s and give us some organic Kirkland apple sauce[3]. Example: we don’t buy our frozen orange juice there because it isn’t calcium fortified. Granted this one cuts across both children and adults[4], but all the more reason to calcium-fortify that OJ. The war for healthy bones starts early! Example: WHERE IS THE FREAKIN’ 100-COUNT RICE CAKES PACKAGE?? I would seriously stock up on rice cakes if you carried them.
That is all. For now.
Thank you for listening,
—me
And that is why I will accept this award as a call to action — a call for all nations to confront the common challenges of the 21st century.
When you walk away from Robocop, there is a temptation to describe it as a Dickian film.
Certainly the elements seem to be there: a man with a subsumed identity and a concealed past, struggling against forces larger than him—perhaps even controlling him—in a bleak dystopian future setting. The looming megacorporation that wipes out his memories? His access back to those memories from his dreams? It all seems very Dickian.
But Robocop may more appropriately by the anti-Dickian Dickian film.
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It’s you and me baby. The way we used to be. But older. Wiser? That’s debatable. Our conversations meander just as much. Maybe more? We avoid the important questions. Same as we always did? More so? The air is thinner. Thinner than you used to be. You’re not that thin anymore. The air between us is doing that. It stole your look just like it steals our questions, steals our transitions. The question went unasked, the move unmade, and we find ourselves in a different place. Only you’re missing and instead it’s them. It’s us. The way we used to be. But older. Sillier? There’s an urgency to wrap this up. It’s not to close it off but to bring it around. The way it used to be. Making juvenile jokes. Juveniles pretending to be adults. Only when you are the adult, casting your lot with the juveniles feels wrong. So we turn instead to other topics, other discussions. Sports. And what would happen if a lacrosse player fashioned a baseball glove? Funny how it looks a lot like a hockey goalie’s glove.
“…several months ago I was approached by an individual who I have reason to believe belonged to a cover organization involving politics, illegal weapons, etc….”
Dare we say that if it were anyone else we would believe him to be crazy? (And how does that preclude us from believing PKD was crazy?) It also provides a little context for the title of this Wiley Wiggins’ collection.
It’s important to underscore that this isn’t a philosophical argument—it’s a neurological argument. Motivation is experienced in the brain as the release of dopamine. It’s not released like other neurotransmitters into the synapses; instead, it’s sort of spritzed into large areas of the brain, which enhances the signaling of neurons. The motivated brain, literally, operates better, signals faster. Kids learn better.
Looking back, it is easy to see where Schwarzenegger’s optimism sprung from. California has always been a special place, with its own idea of what could be achieved in life. There is no such thing as a British dream. Even within America, there is no Kansas dream or New Jersey dream. But for California the concept is natural. It has always been a place apart. It is of the American West, the destination point in a nation whose history has been marked by restless pioneers. It is the home of Hollywood, the nation’s very own fantasy land. Getting on a bus or a train or a plane and heading out for California has been a regular trope in hundreds of books, movies, plays, and in the popular imagination. It has been writ large in the national psyche as free from the racial divisions of the American South and the traditions and reserve of New England. It was America’s own America.
A number of reviews that got posted to Goodreads.com earlier this year but never made it to here:
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