The Clever Badger To add insult to injury, the platypus is leading.

12Aug/108

Retro

I distinctly remember the afternoon of my 13th birthday.  

I bolted home from the bus stop, because I knew that waiting for me at home was The Most Awesome Video Game Experience Ever!  

The object of my obsession was a new offering for the Atari 2600 console, Haunted House.  

Haunted House could be thought of as Resident Evil -20.  The graphics, though looking a bit dated today, were pretty damn stunning at the time.  Since I no longer have access to a functioning Atari 2600 console, I'm unable to get my own screenshots, but I found one that I think beautifully captures the graphic artistry that was possible in home video games circa 1982.  

8Aug/104

Sharktopus. Really. I’m Not Kidding. And A Special Treat.

Just when I got comfortable thinking that Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus set the low water mark for entertainment, SyFy comes along and produces Sharktopus.  (Thanks, Miss C.  Thanks SO much  ;) .)  I knew it was coming, but some small part of me held out hope that it would never see the light of day.  No such luck.

Apparently Eric Roberts hasn't had much to do lately.  My  best info is that Sharktopus will grace our screens in September.  I know I'll be watching.

Now, as if this wasn't enough, SyFy has also seen fit to give us Mega Python vs. Gatoroid.   Here's a preview:

Mega Python vs. Gatoroid, based on the preview, seems like not much more than an opportunity to get 80's singers Debbie Gibson and Tiffany onto the screen at the same time.  (Gibson, if you recall, was the female lead in Mega Shark.)  If they can find a way to get a cameo by Kylie Minogue, they'd have a trifecta.

I'll probably watch this, too - I'm particularly impressed by its sharply written dialogue.

It's apparently going to grace us with its presence in 2011.

So many bad movies.  So little time...

-Jay

10Jul/106

The Mailbox

My neighborhood, like many, has a set of deed restrictions - a list of Thou Shalt Nots that the Neighborhood Association hopes will keep property values at attractive levels.  Some of the more amusing ones in my case stipulate how many and what types of plants I must have in my landscaping, and what sort of animals I'm allowed to have.  I can have normal "pet" animals, but I can't (for example) raise chickens, nor can I keep reptiles.1

Some people on the Neighborhood association take these deed restrictions very seriously.  There is at least one lady who roams the neighborhood with a notebook and counts shrubs, and there is one gentleman who set up a motion-activated video camera in his living room to catch teenagers walking in the neighborhood after dark.  Apparently walking while young is a problem that most of us weren't aware of.  He was quite concerned when he offered to give his taped evidence to the police so they could investigate and was met with an official "Meh" from law enforcement.

Right.

We also have an official neighborhood mailbox style.  It's a decorative, cast-metal job with pineapple-looking things (or they could be alien eggs...) on top with some fancy scrollwork.  They are, per the unchanging law of the deed restrictions, painted white, and must be maintained in "attractive" condition.  Once a year, usually about this time, we all get a letter from the Neighborhood Mailbox Compliance Officer, letting us know that some people have allowed their mailboxes to get a little rusty and because of that we all need to get off our asses and clean them up.

This makes perfect sense.  Personally, whenever I drive through any neighborhood, the first thing I do is evaluate their mailboxes.  In fact, just the other day, I cut through a nearby subdivision on the way to Target, and what kept going through my head was:  "This place is going to hell in a handbasket because that dude there has a skanky looking rusty mailbox.  I should stop the car and get whoever owns such a shoddy looking mailbox to come out and fix it up right now!"

According to the letter, it should take no more than 30 minutes for anyone to bring his mailbox into full compliance.  Clearly, the Mailbox Compliance Officer's approach to doing this is to pick up the phone and call someone to do the work, and the 30 minutes includes the time it takes to write a check to the workman.

I prefer to do it myself, which takes a little longer.

Right off the top, I'll say that whoever selected a cast-iron based mailbox with lots of scrollwork and crevices for water to catch in was dumber than a box of toenail clippings.  There is no freakin' way to keep rust from forming on them.  You could encase them in concrete and they'd rust.  This is Kentucky.  It gets humid.  Our rain is acidic.  Stuff rusts.  You can paint it all you want, but it's gonna rust.   Hell, I start to rust if I stay outside too long.

But, metal is what we have, so I try to make the best of it.

The first step in bringing my mailbox into compliance is to clean off any loose rust with a stiff wire brush and a lot of profanity.  The profanity is required because of all the crevices.  These are typically so narrow and deep that no normal wire brush can get down into them, so you end up scraping into them with a nail.  At some point, one of three things will happen:  the bristles from the wire brush will get driven into your hand, a dislodged chunk of rust will somehow get past the perimeter of your safety glasses and end up in your eye, or the nail you're scraping with will break off in one of the crevices where it will form the anchor for next year's crop of rust.

Once the loose rust has been removed, it's time to take a shot at the more tightly bound rust.  This is done by liberally painting the surface of the mailbox with Naval Jelly.

Naval Jelly, for those unfamiliar with it, looks like nothing so much as hot pink, corrosive snot.  When you're done with the first part of this effort, your mailbox will look like it has been sneezed on by a unicorn with a severe sinus infection.2

Let the Naval Jelly set for a while, go drink a beer, and get ready for the next part.

For the next step, you'll need a pressure washer and a blowtorch.

The pressure washer is necessary because the force from a normal hose is completely insufficient to rinse off the Naval Jelly, particularly out of the crevices.

The blowtorch is necessary because once you've rinsed off the Naval Jelly, you have water sitting on exposed metal that you've just gone through the effort of de-rusting.  The only way to quickly remove this water from all the nooks and crannies is with heat.  I think many of my neighbors skip this step.  The decorative parts of my mailbox do accumulate rust, but it's relatively minor compared to a lot of the boxes in the subdivision.  I think they're getting water trapped under the paint.  I suppose you could drive the water off of the mailbox by rinsing the whole thing with acetone or something, but that's not nearly as fun as fire.

Once you've rinsed and dried the thing, the remaining steps are simple:  use a good rust-inhibiting primer paint and cover the entire mailbox.  Twice.  Then deploy at least two coats of white outdoor spray paint.

There you go.  Fried gold.

If you're lucky and didn't inadvertently fail to cover a spot, you should be able to get 2 years out of such a treatment.  Realistically you'll get one, because by the time you've finished the first coat of primer, you'll start rushing and will do something completely boneheaded like not paint the bottom of the mailbox, and by the time you notice that you've got a bunch of rust stalactites growing off the bottom and your brother in the next subdivision over is telling you that they can have wooden mailboxes and they don't rust.

-Jay

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1I've always been a little puzzled by this one. Was this a pre-emptive clause? Or was there someone in the early phases of the neighborhood who did something to prompt such a restriction? There are whispers of the Gila Monster Incident of '91, but nobody wants to talk about it...

2Learn from my mistakes. Wear gloves when using this crap. The happy hot-pink color belies the fact that Naval Jelly is a fairly potent acid. If you get it on your hands, you won't immediately notice it but within a minute or so you'll feel the burn. And don't forget safety glasses. You don't want this stuff in your eyes.

8Jul/109

Surviving Childhood

This afternoon, an office conversation took place between a co-worker and me that ended up being more or less a couple of 40-somethings reminiscing about things we did in our youth that we probably shouldn't have lived through.1

It has been said that fortune favors the prepared, but she also apparently has a soft spot for stupid teen-age boys.

In the spirit of the earlier conversation, I present you with the following tale from my youth:

There were about a dozen boys in my  neighborhood within a couple of years of each other in age, between around 11 and 13.  There was very little through-traffic in my neighborhood, so riding one's bike in the street really wasn't an issue.  There was a small forest at one end of the neighborhood in which older kids with dirt-bikes had made paths, and we spent a fair amount of time riding around back there.  Most of us had BMX bikes by this time (mine was very much like this one, but orange.  And with wheels), which, of course, made us nearly invincible.2

Towards the back of the woods was a wash-out that drained into the runoff creek.  The washout was about two miles wide and at least a thousand feet deep 12 feet across and maybe 8 feet deep (it's actually still there, amazingly, and hasn't been developed into a subdivision...), and after months of being content to ride our bikes through the wash-out, we came up with the totally brilliant idea of setting up a ramp and jumping over the gap.  We envisioned something like this:

Look At Me! I Can Fly!

The reality was rather different:

That's Gonna Leave A Mark...

See, what did us in was physics.  It never occurred to any of us that there was no freakin' way any of us were going to be able to get up enough speed pedaling a bicycle for 40 feet to jump off a foot-tall ramp made of a piece of plywood and a cinder block and have any hope of doing anything more impressive than verifying that gravity still worked a third of the way across the gully.

The saddest part is that each of us had to prove that for ourselves.

The only thing that would have made it worse is if there had been girls there, since by then we were all hitting that part of a teen-age boy's life where our main goal in life was proving to teen-age girls that we weren't all rock-stupid idiots.  (Ironic, isn't it, that the sort of things we did to prove that we weren't rock-stupid idiots are precisely the same things that are likely to have removed any doubt about the matter...)  For illustrative purposes, this is what teen-age boys in 1980 wanted girls to see them as:

One Of The Original Movie Bad-asses

The reality was probably more like this:

Yeah, They're Cool...

Eventually, we figured out that impressing the girls was much more effective if we actually survived to benefit from the results.

-Jay

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1I should acknowledge the patience of my other co-worker who patiently endured all of this with little more than an occasional eye-roll and head-shake. I see that look a lot from her, actually. She knows me well. ;-)

2Nearly invincible is teen-age boy for not very good at thinking things through.

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29Jun/100

The Badger’s Guide to Internet Fauna, Volume 2

Today we'll look at some more of the exciting denizens of the internet.  Classification of internet fauna can be tricky, because different species often share characteristics that, at first glance, seem remarkably similar.  The key to successful classification rests in being able to determine which of these characteristics are derived characteristics and which are examples of convergent evolution.  Another way of considering the matter is that while assclowns may behave similarly, there are a lot of different ways to get to that point.  

If you have spent any time at all on internet discussion boards or on blogs with topics that are in any way controversial,you've probably seen discussion participants who tend to get argumentative, in the manner of the characters in Volume 1 of the Guide to Internet Fauna.  Typically, these gits will eventually get banned, but that's often not the end of them.   

Enter...  

The Sock Puppet - Representative Generic Specimen


The Sock Puppet - 
This pernicious pest uses a variety of techniques to create new identities from which he can continue his asshattery.  

These techniques can vary depending on whether you run a blog or a forum, and whether or not you require registrations.  There are several categories:  

The Premeditated Sock

The Premeditated Sock - This subspecies of Sock will register for your site, and then (possibly over a period of weeks or months) create several different identities.  The more advanced Premeditated Socks will use multiple IPs and e-mails to conceal their common owner.  These sleeper Socks may remain dormant for years, or they may be active throughout their lifetime, chiming in on discussions from time to time.  It can be extremely challenging to positively identify such users as Socks.  Often it takes comparisons of writing styles or trends within discussions to ferret them out.  An infestation of such Socks can be a nightmare for the administrator of a large blog or forum, since they able to hide effectively amongst the normal users.  One helpful clue is that if you ban someone who has been a heavy participant in discussions, and a user who has rarely or never posted turns up loudly defending the banned individual, you might be dealing with a sock. 

The Impulsive Sock. Note the slovenly appearance

The Impulsive Sock - This variety of Sock is usually easier to detect.  Typically, a participant gets banned, and within a day or so a new user appears that interacts much like the banned identity.  Often, an administrator can figure out what's going on just by comparing IPs or the registrant's e-mail address.  While stamping out Impulsive Socks isn't typically as challenging as dealing with the Premeditated sort, it can be no less frustrating.  Often what the Impulsive Sock lacks in sophistication he more than makes up for in tenacity.  

The Multiple Personality Sock

The Multiple Personality Sock - Occasionally you'll notice several commenters that always seem to interact with each other, sometimes in rapid-fire succession.  They may all agree, or there may be one hold-out that the others gang up on, but you can pretty much count on the fact that if one comments, they all will.  This may be a case of the Multiple Personality Sock.  A recent example of this (which actually inspired me to write this)  is illustrated here.  If you observe what you think might be a Multiple Personality Sock, you can have a little fun by trying to provoke the various faces of the Sock into arguing with each other.  

The Agent Provocateur Sock

The Agent Provocateur Sock - The last sort of Sock to mention here is the Agent Provocateur.  These are rare, but dangerous, and tend to emerge during times of strife.  Despite their innocent appearance, their sole purpose is to foment discord.  Typically, they'll initiate their troublemaking with a private message or an email, maybe something like "I just wanted to tell you that  you're doing a really good job of moderating the Godzilla Back Scales forum.  The other mods are real hard-asses, especially Fire_Breathing_Mama."   Your alerts should start triggering at this point, because: 

 

It's very, very likely that you're dealing with an Agent Provocateur Sock.  It may be someone who, in fact, doesn't like Fire_Breathing_Mama and is trying to dig dirt on her, or it might be Fire_Breathing_Mama herself trying to figure out who her friends on staff are.  Or it could just be someone trying to stir up trouble.  Don't take the bait.  It's much better not to let yourself get dragged into the middle of internet drama. 

And with that, we complete our brief survey of Sock Puppets.  For our next installment, we'll be looking at the vast and varied world of Trolls. 

-Jay