« Archives in September, 2006

True Love

I’m into the whole “minimalist wallet”:http://www.43folders.com/2006/04/21/minimalist-wallet/ thing — the slim look, the lack of pocket bulges (I get enough from my Treo), and the fact that I don’t schlep half of my office with me every time I leave the house all keep me happy. My last wallet, reasonably well-liked if not particularly perfect (the money clip thing was a good experiment, but not a success for me) fell apart and was discarded without too much fanfare or too many tears. Its replacement, however… well, I’m in love.
!/images/slimmy.jpg!
I’ve gone through many generations of minimalist wallets, ever since I discovered that I didn’t like a big, overstuffed thing in my back pocket during the very beginning of college. And it’s great — I don’t need more than a few dollars, a few business cards, a credit card, an ATM card, my ID, and my insurance card at any given time during the day.
Now, the problem is that, while the billfold has been extensively perfected over generations, these smaller wallets are all cutting-edge technology, which means many just don’t work. Too few of the minimalist looks ever worked properly, and some didn’t even last a few months. I got some with too few pockets, with pockets that were too tight, and even with coin purses that didn’t close completely.
But not the “Slimmy”:http://koyono.com/products/slimmy/description.html — it’s minimalist but it concentrates on just what’s needed in a wallet. It’s got enough pockets, but not too many; it holds its contents tight but not so tight you can’t get them out. It fits in my pocket comfortably and yet it lets me keep what I need with me. The leather has a great, supple grain, and the whole product feels soft and classy in my hand. I am definitely enthusiastic about my new Slimmy.















Will Somebody Please Explain to Me What the SVN vs. CVS Thing Is?

I discovered “CVS”:http://www.nongnu.org/cvs/ at the very beginning of this century, when I was doing Web dev. Getting past revisions? “Diff”:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diff? Little notes on what changes I’d made? Life-saver. Even after leaving the industry, I kept much of my work in CVS, because revisions and branching are useful even for binary file formats, such as Word .docs or Photoshop .psds.
But I’ve been fooling with “Ruby on Rails”:http://www.rubyonrails.org/ and it seems like all the cool kids are using “Subversion”:http://subversion.tigris.org/ these days. I’m probably going to have to grab myself a good SVN client anyway; should I just switch to Subversion for all my version control needs? I currently use “TortoiseCVS”:http://www.tortoisecvs.org/ to make my CVS live easy, and it looks like “TortoiseSVN”:http://tortoisesvn.tigris.org/ is similarly easy-to-use.
What does switching to SVN get me? Is it really _that_ much easier? Can I easily migrate my CVS repositories to SVN and keep all of my past revisions? What have people’s experiences been with the two technologies?
I know this is a pretty obtuse entry but I’m also pretty sure that there’s at least two regular readers who can answer all these questions.















The Affair of the Bottle

I did not — and this probably comes as very little of a surprise to most people who read this blog reguarly — spend much time in the Principal’s office in Elementary School. In all honesty, I simply wasn’t popular enough to have the chance to act out in a way that would gain the attention of the higher-ups.
And that was a good thing; the stern, strait-laced, British, Mr. Peerless, our Principal, rather scared me. I had been friends with his son Eric, and had taken French lessons from his wife, who was from Brittany (thus the circular white-with-red-center “Brest”:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brest%2C_France sticker on her car’s rear window), and who taught me a grating Breton accent that, fortunately, faded away in time. A day or two a week I’d carpool with Eric and his mother, and, if I somehow missed my carpool, would travel with Mr. Peerless instead; a ride with Mr. Peerless was a guarantee of a silent, nerve-wracking trip.
So, for five years, I’d avoided the impeccably-named Mr. Peerless’s office, but I blew it one windy afternoon. After Recess the teachers would line our class up on benches under a tree next to the side entrance; when we were all well-seated we’d be led into the school in an orderly single file. But this afternoon the wind was strong enough to push a too-tall, too-skinny fifth-grader around as it swirled between the Elementary and Middle School buildings. Somehow, this wind picked up a white plastic half-gallon bottle and sent it spinning around the benches on which we sat. Someone kicked the bottle, sending it spinning towards someone else, and then that person kicked it, and then a few of the kids were laughing and running in the wind, kicking the bottle between them.
I sat still, figuring the teachers would disapprove of this levity and want us to head in; but the teachers were nowhere to be found, and I was boring quickly. So I got up and kicked the bottle too, laughing with the popular kids and having fun, until suddenly those absent teachers did appear and put an end to our frolicking. For adults who had been absent for at least ten minutes, they were remarkably put out. Those of us who’d played with the bottle were lined up against the wall while everyone else was led back into the classrooms; then we were taken to Mr. Peerless’s office.
That’s when I knew I was in trouble. Looking at the kids around me, I realized I was the only one who hadn’t made multiple trips to the principal — frankly, I had no idea what to expect in Mr. Peerless’s office and no idea what to do when I got there. So I hung to the back of the group and, then, sat in the corner.
The office was decorated in yellows and browns, with a textured-pile carpet and curved-edge furniture made from a yellowish wood; only a few red and green books in the bookcase, and the bright white sunlight coming through the leaded window, broke the monotone. First Mr. Peerless berated us for playing with the bottle instead of sitting there like good little children, and I was relieved, because I assumed that some sort of scolding would be involved. But what came next? Would our parents be called? Would we lose recess priveleges? How did these things go? Was there a negotiation? Would the other kids sell me out? I kept my mouth shut and nodded my head. Then Mr. Peerless asked us, with purpose, “so what were you doing with the bottle anyway?” One kid, I don’t remember who, immediately confessed to playing with it, which was clearly the wrong answer. I think someone else might have also confessed to playing, but then another of us malefactors came up with the right answer: “I just wanted to return the bottle to its owner.” This right outcome-oriented reply sat well with Mr. Peerless’s firmly Quaker beliefs and he shook his head in approval. “Who else just wanted to return the bottle to its owner?” he asked, scanning the room with his little round glasses looking over his beard, a skinny, balding, dark blond Freud. I could tell a good thing when I heard it and I, along with almost everyone else, raised my hand. We were allowed to return to class, while the two kids who had been unfortunate enough to cop to the truth before someone was smart enough to find the right lie got some kind of punishment.
Because it was a lie; we were kids, and we were just having fun. That’s what kids are supposed to do, except maybe not at Quaker schools.















Those Who Fail To Learn From History Are Doomed To Repeat It. Oops.

One thing about me — a detail which makes me substantially less useful as a person from whom you can borrow a book — is that, like many geeky boys, I enjoy my military history books. My tastes in this genre tend strongly to more-technical works which completely describe the challenges individuals and states face and then give a complete history of how that challenge was surmounted (or not). Right now I’m reading a particularly interesting (to me), if perhaps somewhat detailed and dry, book, “The Arming of Europe and the Making of the First World War”:http://amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0691015953/ref=nosim/wadearmstrong-20. I’ve recently come to a chapter that describes the oft-forgotten Bosnian crisis of 1908, a historical event that, at the time, appeared to be a complete victory for Germany and Austria-Hungary but which turned out to be, unexpectedly, a complete disaster for those two Powers.
The story behind the Bosnian crisis was this: at the time, Bosnia was a Turkish posession, administered by Austria-Hungary, on the border of Austria-Hungary and Serbia. Serbia saw itself as the natural leader of all of the south Slavs and dreamed of adding Bosnia, Montenegro, and other neighboring areas to its kingdom; Austria had long been the dominant power in the Balkans and wanted to preserve its dominance in the area by adding Bosnia to its territory. At the time, Europe was in the midst of a technological revolution in its armies — they were adopting things like machineguns, magazine-loaded rifles (rather than single-shot rifles that needed to be reloaded after every shot), radio, telephones, and modern, faster-firing, more-accurate artillery. Germany and Austria-Hungary led most of Europe in equipping their armies with this technology, and, particularly, with modern artillery; Serbia was broke and had not modernized its army, its sponsor Russia had been crushed two years earlier in the Russo-Japanese war and had not yet recovered, and neighboring Italy had a small, under-equipped army. The Austrians really wanted the Bosnian prize and, with German support, threatened to fight Italy, Serbia, and Russia all at once to get it, banking on their military superiority to intimidate their opponents into acceding to the Austrian annexation of Bosnia. Outclassed, everyone backed down, and the Austrians got Bosnia. Germany and Austria conclusively proved that they were the strongest military powers in Europe — so strong that their opponents gave up without even fighting.
But the result was disaster for Germany and Austria. Just seven years later all of Europe would be sucked into the idiotic slaughter of the First World War, and Russia, Serbia, and Italy would all be prepared to fight in it. Humiliated, the Russian Duma voted massive new credits to rebuild their army and put a new, reformist general in charge who reorganized the whole organization. The Serbs bought modern weapons and quadrupled the size of their armed forces. The Italians strengthened their army and procured the most advanced field artillery that any combatant would use in World War I. Germany and Austria won a short-term victory but, in doing so, taught potential adversaries what they’d have to do to fight back successfully. Yes, the Serbs, Italians, and Russians were all decisively defeated by Austro-German armies in World War I, but they all stuck around long enough to prevent the Germans from dedicating enough armies to the fight against the British and French to win the war. Even worse, the German and Austro-Hungarian bellicosity in this crisis convinced other European Powers that, next time, there needed to be no backing down — these enemies needed to be fought to the death.
Now comes news that “the Iraq war has given Islamic extremists the chance to both learn what tactics work against the West and the chance to build pro-extremist sentiment worldwide.”:http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-intel24sep24,0,2161892.story?coll=la-home-headlines Neither Iraq nor Bosnia could ever have been a plum valuable enough to risk the future of the US or Austria-Hungary on, yet that’s exactly what we and they did — a potentially enduring advantage was thrown away for a temporary, small victory.
Three years ago, we were told that Iraq needed to be invaded to prevent the spread (and use) of weapons of mass destruction. When none were found, we were told that at least we were confronting Islamic radicalism in Iraq and not in the US. Well, Austria-Hungary confronted Russo-Serbian pan-Slavism (that is, these two Slavic powers wanted to create a strong south Slavic state to stand against Austria-Hungary in the Balkans) and Italian irredentism (much of what is now the northernmost parts of Italy was then part of Austria-Hungary) and defeated these two movements decisively in 1908. Unfortunatley for the Austro-Hungarians, this temporary victory sowed the roots of a defeat seven years later that was so great that the ancient empire was completely ripped apart into seperate states, one of which was Yugoslavia, the powerful, unified state of the South Slavs. This leaves one to question: do we have a plan that’s good enough to make sure that we aren’t providing our enemies with the training ground to develop tactics that can defeat us, and the allies worldwide to fuel a war using these tactics? Do we have a plan to rebuild our international reputation and prevent other nations from believing we need to be fought to the last man?
Oh right, we don’t have any plans at all. Duh.















Meet the New Look, Same as the Old Look

Well, ok, it’s not the same, but, well, it sounded like a catchy headline. Anyway, welcome to my new look. It’s big, and it’s dark grey, and it’s got my moblog right at the top, and I love it.
So, what’s new here? Well, like I said, there’s the moblog right at the top. The photos are now big, rather than postage stamp-sized, which will hopefully force me to work harder on my composition. Plus on making little vignettes from big-sized photos.
The blog content on the side is now large enough to read, which, hopefully, will incline people to actually read it. Also blog entries now have comments turned on, which I know will please at least one, or 25%, of my readers.
And, yes, I know that in general the text on *everything* is big. I’m into big these days. Maybe it’s because I like leaning back on my couch, putting my laptop on my legs (it’s too hot to sit over the ‘ol package) and read, and that’s much easier with big text. But, in general, big type is a trend and that’s one trend I like. After all, this here blog is all about content, and so the content should be big and readable. And if you don’t like the big text then get Firefox and resize it, because I like the big text. Can you tell that this has been the most unpopular feature with beta testers? Yeah I’m maybe a little defensive.
I also get rid of the poorly-conceived unified archives, not like anyone browses the archives anyway. But now the moblog, blog, and diary are all broken out and easily browseable. With everything broken out, there’s now a seperate blog and diary RSS feed, so make sure to update your subscriptions appropriately.
Speaking of feeds, there’s a feed of new WadeArmstrong.com and Cleverbird.com entries now on the front page, so if you’re interested in those sites you can keep up and, if you’re not, you can feel free to ignore.
And there’s a new color, blue, which is the color of the skin around Junior’s eyes. The yellow is now closer to the yellow on Junior’s feathers, and the text is now white, like his feathers. It’s nice to have a palette that walks and talks.
Anyway, sorry this redesign took so long; I lost days trying to figure out a mostly undocumented change in the way Movable Type handles comments, but at least I actually like the change; it makes my life easier. I’m also too lazy to switch to WordPress.
My badass gangsta neighbor is listening to “Holiday” by Madonna. I think that’s my cue to wrap this entry. Thanks for sticking around, readers.