Not quite. But I could easily write that one.
It would be the f-word, "HDCP," and then a paragraph's worth of the f-word being used in its adjectival, nominal, adverbial, and verb forms to describe the technology, its creators, its implementors, and its shortcomings.
HDCP has bitten me in the metaphorical ass numerous times, both at home and at work, and only while trying to do stuff that was utterly non-infringing: I don't get bit by HDCP when I'm trying to copy protected content, I get bit by it, repeatedly, while trying to play HDCP sources in boring ways that were non-issues in the Analog Era. It has cost me (and thanks to my professional capacity, taxpayers) a disturbing amount of time, energy and money.
Inspired by last year's summary, here's what I did in 2011:
In January, TLO bought us a car, as we finally surrendered to the reality that our semi-beloved New Beetle was not reliable, and between me and our mechanic, we had neither the will nor the wit to make it right. The Versa has been a quiet charmer: surprisingly comfy seating for four; flip the rear seat, and it eats bikes with no wheels off, no bad habits, driving-wise, and the cupholders can actually hold cups, unlike the comical VW cupholder parodies. (We also sold the Beetle, of course).
In May, my parents invited us to join them for a four-day cruise, which was a first for TLO and I. It was something we will do again.
A friend shared this link covering the dubious financial prospects for professional writers (in Quebec, but I'd bet the prospects look about the same in the rest of Canada, and indeed in the rest of the first world). My response to her seemed to amuse others, so now I'll share it more widely:
Published authorship is a star system, and it sounds like cynical craziness, but widespread literacy means a lot of people have the basic tools to become a writer, which means supply swamps demand at the non-superstar end of the market (think of pro sports, in terms of the rewards at the top, the relative lack of depth in the middle, and the total lack of demand for mediocre athletes) except with a less-clear system for detecting and recruiting superstar talent.
Philosophically, I avoid meddling in the affairs of political jurisdictions where I don't have a franchise, but I'm making an exception here to endorse my friend and club-mate, Alex Pope, who has put himself forward as a candidate for the town council in Maple Ridge.
So here's Alex running for a job as a public servant, and where the decisions are important and have deep consequences*, in a community where transportation is a major civic issue.
I assure you, he's the right man for the job.
Ever since I've known Alex, he's been helping out with things he wants to make better. We met as fellow members of a cycling club that requires members to volunteer in support of races. And Alex did, putting in as needed, at every level of the sport from laying out traffic cones before a race to sitting on the board of Cycling BC.
Rebecca gave me an adventure for my birthday. Just after midnight, she gave me an envelope with tickets to Serifos, a very small island. We went for a day trip on my birthday, and rented a scooter. It was also a great chance to use my other present, a pancake lens for the Pentax. All-manual, it was the only lens I brought. I needed noting else.
We saw the island's lovely chora, another hilltop town with house upon house and only narrow pedestrian walkways and stairs between them, high upon a hill, overlooking but quite far from the contemporary port. Typical pirate-resistant town planning.
A local group who prefers to remain somewhat anonymous (let's just call them the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen) decided to put on a very low-key Gentleman's Race, based onthe idea promulgated by Rapha.
I put together a team. The last member joined up, literally, the day before the race, but in the end I had a full team of 5:
Doug Brons
Aidan "Mocha" Mouellic
Cam "maillot pois"
Dan "Buttercup" Spry
Me
We had our share of excuses (interrupted training, new to pacelines, fat, underfed...), but we were game.
I've been ranting online meditating about level and non-level playing fields in sports lately.
Item: Oscar Pistorius, the fastest man on no legs, is in the news again because he is on the verge of qualifying for the 2012 Olympics in the 400-metre event. I see this as being parallel to the previous stories of Caster Semenya and Michelle Dumaresq: in the latter two cases, the question was "who gets to compete in women's events?" (and implicitly, it was "what is the purpose of a separate women's category?") In the former case, it's "who gets to compete in men's events?"
Claude Adams, an excellent writer, tells the sad, funny story of the day he lost his job because the dog didn't die. (And let me just say up front that I feel sad for Claude, but his mistake totally sounds like a firing offense to me).
Regarding his larger points about the decline of TV news, I don't think the arrow of causality points the way Claude thinks it does.
TV news does a very good job at displaying visually compelling news. Not surprisingly, most TV News shows focus on the visually compelling.
Ever felt that there should be a greater embrace of the absurd in life? Ever found yourself thinking this was a decent plan, only to be repelled by the fact that the actual absurdist movements of the last 100 years (notably Surrealism, Dadaism, and even (to some extent) Absurdism itself are enrobed in political clothing?
These things normally start with a Manifesto. But if one is attempting to disavow political trappings, a manifesto is a bad place to start. Also, it does not suit the aesthetic of Wired Cola. Therefore, this thing will start with a Mission Statement:
The Room explained. Again, a bit salty.
Tag cloud courtesy TagCrowd
Wait, Wordle may be a better tool...
