I went to Pan Morigan's voice workshop again this year. She began by asking each of us to tell her something about their voice, and she began with me. Everyone else said something negative or neutral about their voice but me, I said, "I have a nice voice. People like it."

Other than being almost entirely unable to sleep, I'm having a very good Wiscon.

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Read this. I don't give a fat fuck if you want to or not, read this: Sebastian Rotella, "Finding Oscar: Massacre, Memory and Justice in Guatemala," Pro Publica, 5/25/12. Oscar Alfredo Ramirez Castaneda was raised to love and honor, as his father and as a beloved role model, the man who did this to his real family:

The commandos herded the men into a school and the women and children into a church. The violence began before dawn. One of the soldiers, César Ibañez, heard the screams of girls begging for help. Several soldiers watched as Lt. César Adán Rosales Batres raped a girl in front of her family. Following their superior officer, other commandos started raping girls and women. ...

The commandos brought the villagers one by one to the center of the hamlet, near a dry well about 40 feet deep. Favio Pinzón Jerez, the squad's cook, and other soldiers reassured the captives that everything would be all right. They were going to be vaccinated. It was a routine health precaution, nothing to worry about.

Commando Gilberto Jordán drew first blood. He carried a baby to the well and hurled it to its death. Jordán wept as he killed the infant. Yet he and another soldier, Manuel Pop Sun, kept throwing children down the well.

The commandos blindfolded the adults and made them kneel, one at a time. They interrogated them about the rifles, aliases, guerrilla leaders. When the villagers protested that they knew nothing, soldiers hit them on the head with a metal sledgehammer. Then they threw them into the well. ... By the end of the afternoon, the well overflowed with corpses.

As with everyone who actually read multiple news sources at the time, I knew about this while it was going on. I linked, a couple of years ago, to the video for Bruce Cockburn's 1984 song and music video, "If I Had a Rocket Launcher:" this is what that article is about. And I knew it at the time. Bruce Cockburn was only one of hundreds of reporters and aid workers who had, for years by that point, been coming out of Guatemala, El Salvador, Peru, Honduras, Nicaragua and telling us that this, right here, is what Ronald Reagan's direct report subordinates, CIA director Casey and NSC director North, were doing there. More kept doing so, month by month and year after year, until well into the first Bush administration.

I was alive at the time. I was working and paying taxes at the time. I was working at a god damned defense contractor at the time, not one that was directly supplying material to the US backed death squads that were raping little girls and murdering nuns and stealing children to raise as pets, but still, I drew my salary at the time from a Reagan-era defense contractor. I paid some of the taxes that paid for this. I did this. It was done in my name, supposedly to keep me safe from Communism. I tried to stop it at the time. God's honest truth, I tried. It wasn't enough. Did I do enough? Do you think I did everything I could have done? Because I never will. I keep saying, not just about this but about a lot of things, that you can't be held morally responsible for something that you were physically incapable of doing. But there were things I thought of trying. And I didn't try them. They would have been risky things. They might well have cost me my life. They probably wouldn't have worked. But I'll never know if I could have stopped the man who murdered his entire village from keeping him as a trophy. All right? I can never know that.

But I know this: after the Iran/Contra scandal, when incoming President Bush had to pardon everybody involved for fear of how much more would come out if they were tried? I thought we were at least ashamed enough of what we'd done that we wouldn't do it again.

If you think that this shit isn't going on in Afghanistan and Pakistan and Yemen and god only knows where else that your tax dollars are being used to save you from Islamist terrorism? You're ignorant, at best. Are you doing everything you can to stop it? Are you sure you are? Or are there things you've thought of trying that you don't have the confidence or the bravery to try? Maybe they wouldn't work. But you're not trying them. Which means that when you are confronted, decades from now, with the memories of what you didn't do to stop the War on Terror, after Iraq and Afghanistan veterans came home and told you what was going on? When you remember, then, how powerless you feel now, but also remember that there are things you've thought of trying but don't have the guts or the faith to try right now? Decades from now, you'll understand, then, how I feel now.

...on the classic computer front, for myself I bought an Amiga 500. I have no nostalgia for Amigas; I've never had one. But I thought it would be a fun system to learn about and I figured that I might be able to use it as a musical instrument.

The first thing that I noticed was that there was no obvious way to connect it to the TV. It turned out that the Amigas used very weird connectors, and making an adaptor isn't as trivial as with the TI. But it also turns out that the port labelled "MONO" isn't monophonic sound; It's mono video, so I *can* hook it up, just with no colour. So I did so, and got as far as a picture of a hand holding a Workbench 1.3 disk. Which wasn't included in the "complete" system, either.

I found a vendor online, and paid not-a-lot-but-more-than-I-would-have-liked to get a copy of the Workbench 1.3 disk. (You can download disk images online, but not only does my Mac not have a floppy drive, but even with a PC, you need a special device to hack your floppy drive to be able to write Amiga disks.) I also ordered, from Australia and at great expense, an adaptor that allows it to be hooked up to the TV and modern monitors.

The Workbench disk arrived the other day. I fired up the Amiga. It's neat! Except... the mouse doesn't work. The buttons work, but the directions don't. I've found all kinds of references online saying that the Amiga mouse requires +5V, and there are various components on the motherboard that can blow that will cause said supply to fail, but I tested the pins in question and they read +5V on my multimeter. So I'm not sure what to make of that. You can also test it with a joystick, but I didn't (then) have one. Now that I have the Atari stick, I might check to see if that works. However, barring all of that, I'm going to assume for now that the mouse is busted, which sucks in a big way.

Replacement mice aren't THAT expensive, but they're not super cheap either, and since the Amiga was mostly popular in Europe, they mostly ship from there are exorbitant rates. You can also get an adapter, which everyone seems to think is a good idea, that lets you use *some* modern mice on it. This adapter is very much not cheap, but maybe worth it. Then if it turns out that it's useful for music, I'll have to get a MIDI interface, and I don't even want to guess what that'll set me back (I did see one reasonably priced recently, but I don't know how common that is, and the seller noted that they weren't sure it worked).

I'll probably also need one of those SD-to-floppy things.

So yeah. Cute $30 computer, probably at least a few hundred bucks in replacements and accessories needed to make it work. Whee!

That about sums it up.

Okay, so a little while ago, the Brantford Personal Computer Museum was having a garage sale to raise funds. clawfoot and I attended. At said sale, she saw a TI-99/4A, which set her squeeing to beat the band, because she has a lot of nostalgia for the system from when she was a kid. I was verbally assured that it was complete and tested. The price was only $15, so I bought it for her.

On the way home, she told me many stories of having played MunchMan, a Pac-Man clone, for hours on it. We stopped at her sister's place and her sister's first question upon learning that we had it was whether or not we had MunchMan.

When I got it home, I noticed that there was a post-it note attached to the *underside* of the box that said, "NOT TESTED".

When we took it out of the box, we quickly discovered that the box contained only the system itself and a power brick/adapter. Notoriously missing was the video cable. However, the connector looked like a 5-pin DIN connector, so out of curiosity, I went a-googlin', and I found diagrams about how to build yourself a video connector. I have plenty of 5-pin DIN connectors hanging around because that's what MIDI cables use, and like most people with lots of A/V equipment, I have tons of composite cables, so I was able to crack out the soldering iron and build a video cable from scratch right there. And lo, it worked! I was very pleased.

However, it didn't take long to discover that there's not that much to DO with a computer with no storage whatsoever. I did pull up one of those, "games for your TI" magazines from the 80s on my iPad and I spent something like two hours studiously typing in a BASIC implementation of OTHELLO. Both clawfoot and I played it once (each), and then we turned the machine off, losing all that work, since there was no way to save it.

So step one in making this a fun toy for clawfoot was to go on eBay and get a copy of MunchMan. This turned out to be really easy to do, setting me up for unrealistic expectations for the future perhaps.

It eventually arrived, and we fired it up, only to discover that it's next to impossible to play with the keyboard. Joysticks were needed.

It turns out to be very hard to get TI joysticks. On top of that, they're widely considered to be among the worst ever made. There are, however, ample instructions online on how to create an adaptor that allows you to connect a pair of Atari or Commodore joysticks.

In the meantime, I tried to procure storage. This turns out to be a ridiculous effort. The primary way to add a disk drive is to buy a gigantic chassis larger than most tower systems called a PEB (Peripheral Expansion Box), and then to buy a disk controller for the PEB, and then to buy a floppy drive for the PEB, connect all of them together, and connect this to the TI. For a machine we just wanted to stick in front of the TV for the occasional game, it wasn't going to fly. Also, all of this stuff is ludicrously expensive.

The other option is to buy a standalone disk controller. Then you can either hook up a standalone floppy drive to it, or you can buy a device that uses an SD memory card to emulate a floppy drive, reading disk images (which you can download from the internet). This is pretty much perfect, and nowhere near as massive as the PEB. The problem is that because back in the day most people serious enough to want a floppy drive bought a PEB, standalone controllers are exceedingly rare. One just came up the other day, and I bid $40 for it. I was winning (at $31) until 29 seconds before the end of the auction, then it jumped to $147.51. :/

Today, I managed to get down to A&C Games and procure an Atari joystick (actually, a third-party one that's compatible). I also went to an electronics shop in that area and got all the parts I needed to make the adaptor.

To say that the soldering job making the adaptor didn't go smoothly is the understatement of the century. The page I got the instructions from said it would take about an hour, and it took me something like three just to get a basic "wires twisted together, not in a case" test kit together. Just about everything that could go wrong, did, and I was pretty much ready to take up drinking. But I got it done, and the moment of truth came. We hooked everything up and...

...it worked! Kind of. Everything but "UP" worked.

So then I spent the next couple of hours testing everything meticulously. I took out the multimeter and re-did my earlier tests to make sure every pin and jack that I'd soldered had connectivity. I then connected them all again and did through tests. Then I tried it again. No dice.

I started connecting them with alligator clips, so I could switch things up easily. I couldn't solve the problem, but I also couldn't pinpoint it. I flipped the up and down pins, and discovered that I still couldn't go up, but I could go down. That meant that the "up" direction on the joystick worked. I checked my adapters again, everything checked out.

There was only one conclusion to draw. After all this, the TI's joystick port was busted. And to make matters worse, I had just spent a lot more than I wanted to buying two more games on eBay. (I had bid on four from a particular seller because they had reasonable shipping and did combined shipping, but I only won the two I wanted least.)

Frustrated, I decided to call it a night (almost 2am by that time). The next day I would pop it open to see if I could fix it. I was really annoyed and ticked off at this point, so I took some time to rant on Tumblr and Twitter and try to cool off. Then I decided to do some last google searches, mostly to see if I could find a picture of the joystick port and how it connected to the motherboard to get some idea of what the odds were that I could fix it if I popped the system open the next day and took a look.

And in doing so, I came across an article containing the following text:

"Port in the back is for the cassette cable to download Scott Adams adventure tapes and Teach yourself basic tapes etc. One on the side is for joysticks. With caplocks set joysticks still work but are limited. They don't go up or something like that. If you get nothing then its either the joystick or the TI."

I went and hooked everything back up, and carefully made sure that caps lock was disengaged... and it worked.

On the plus side, it works. We'll be able to enjoy all the games, and eventually this will just be a funny story in the past.

On the minus side, I'm just this side of homicidal with frustration, and it turns out that the past few hours of work were just because the TI joysticks don't work if you have caps lock depressed (which you do most of the time because in BASIC, you generally want it on).

So. Damned. Annoyed.

But... tomorrow is another day, I guess. Tomorrow, now that I've verified that it works, I can trim off the cables that aren't needed (several pins are left disconnected), get the last connections soldered and sealed in with heat-shrink tubing, and try to find a tiny box (like an Altoids box or something, or a small plastic project box from an electronics shop) to put the adapter in. And when that's all done, I'll probably feel better about the whole thing.

(Presuming I don't go ballistic trying to find a way to cut the holes for the ports.)

A friend was telling me today that he's having something of a midlife crisis. I confessed that I've never really understood what that means. He said, "It's like I'm looking around at my life and thinking, Is this all there is?"

I told him that by that definition I don't expect to ever have a midlife crisis.

We were walking down Sixth Avenue toward Bryant Park. Being there reminded me, as it always does, of the year I spent as a secretary at BPRC, struggling in yet another job that didn't suit me, thinking This is it. I'm done working for other people. It never works. It reminded me of how miserable Josh was back then, how we desperately tried to find local friends and community, how Xtina and I wrestled with the transition from long-distance to medium-distance and wondered why seeing each other more often wasn't making us happier, how money was always tight.

And now I have everything. So much more than I ever thought I might have. I hear there are kids who plan their futures; I never really did, or not in any plausible way. (I wanted to be a detective. I wanted to live in a self-sustaining agrarian commune. I wanted to create a language that everyone in the world would speak. But those are dreams, fancies, not plans.) I'm not sure I believed in the concept of myself as an adult. Somehow, without a blueprint, this amazing life has built itself around me. Such riches, such beauty, such wonder, such love! To contemplate it is to be both uplifted and humbled. I look around at my life every day and I'm blown away by how much there is. I don't expect to feel the slightest bit different when I hit "midlife", whenever that is.

I guess I got my crises over with early. Can't say I'm the least bit sorry.


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It is a fairly timid cat and I didn't get a good look at it when I dropped by to pick up the keys. My expectation is I would not see it at all.

What actually happened is I unlocked the door and the cat came charging into the room, meowing its head off. Then it saw who I was and a long, uncomfortable pause ensued. In the end it decided to keep meowing at me.

I could not help but notice it stopped being interested in socializing with me the second the wet food hit the bowl....

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

About to find out — possibly the hard way — whether six hours' cycling (2h today, 4h tomorrow) is TOO MUCH for one weekend.

Yeah, the inhospitably radioactive surface of the Earth is pretty much never actually inhospitably radioactive.

Also, announcer Fred Collins sounds a lot like Phil Hartman when he delivers the line

These are stories of the future; adventures in which you'll live in a million could-be years on a thousand may-be worlds.

I am aware of the order of events and I do know it would be more correct to say Hartman sometimes sounded like Collins.

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

Well, well. The FFix returns! And just in time, too; I've been having withdrawal symptoms again.
John Purcell

Today is my grandma's 80th birthday. We're having a big party for her on Sunday--where by "we" I actually mean my folks are doing all the work--but today is the official date. I don't mostly put birthdays on here because I don't want it to seem like a statement if I miss one. But 80, 80 is a big, round number. Eighty is a thing.

Grandma is my last grandparent standing. I mean, I have Grandpa Lyzenga, but I married into him when I was full grown rather than having memories of walking with him when I was tiny; and as much as I will sometimes introduce Aunt Ellen and Uncle Phil as my Lingen grandparents, and as much as they are doing their darnedest, they are in fact a really really special great-aunt and -uncle, which is its own thing and not to be denigrated.

But Grandma has enough personality for four grandparents all by herself. (So, I know firsthand or hear quite vividly, did each of my other grandparents in their own ways. Lack of personality: not an issue in this family.) Grandma is an Energizer bunny. I wrote in her birthday card that she embodies the adage about blooming where one is planted, and I really think that's true. She does well with new people and new situations. She just dusts herself off and tries again, whatever she needs to try again, and I have never once heard of a situation she couldn't eventually make that work in. Never once. Her persistence inspires me. I hope it lasts long past 80.

(via ashbet)

You need a 2 liter jug, a pyrex jug, a lemon squeezer, 2 big or 3 small lemons, 2 limes, 1 orange, a tray of ice, 2 oz of sugar, and lots of cold water. Takes 5-10 minutes.

Put the sugar in the pyrex jug. Boil the kettle. When the kettle boils, cover the sugar with boiling water, stir to dissolve. You don't need to make syrup or anything, but you want the sugar dissolved.

Meanwhile, put the tray of ice into the 2 liter jug. Squeeze the lemons, limes and orange in, getting out all the juice and pulp you can and avoiding adding the pips. Pour the dissolved sugar and water in. Top up with cold water. Shake or stir. Drink, with ice. It'll be cold enough. I used to refrigerate it for a while first, but then I had to make some in a hurry and it was just fine.

This is very refreshing and about as isotonic as you can get. I sometimes add mint or basil to the sugar in the boiling water when I have that growing outside. If it's too sweet, use less sugar next time. I figure this has about a teaspoon of sugar per glass.

The other thing you can do, right now while limes are nine for a dollar, is just squeeze half a lime into your glass of water and ice. Kids won't drink this, but it's good.

Yesterday I ate mac and cheese with salad (at Noodles, since I didn't figure anyone else would want to go there socially). Then there was NAPPING.

I had my alarm set for 5:30 so I wouldn't miss the GoH reading, but when my roommates Betsy and Matt arrived five minutes before the alarm I realized that half-price margaritas sounded a lot better than the reading, so I did that with them and Joanna. Regrettably, Frida's where margaritas used to be had has gone, and we went to Moe's, where there are four flavors of margarita and some slightly fancied-up pub fare. Good pulled pork, amazingly boring french fries.

Wiscon karaoke was next! I wore too many clothes because I was worried I'd be cold on the way home, which was foolish. Fun as always, with new people and people from last year. I sang "Dress You Up" and "She-Bop" creditably, but got lost during the Prince-freaks-out-and-screeches-a-lot section of "Little Red Corvette". The first part was good! I was tired and drunk enough not to be able to recover from losing my place, though. Annoyingly, I could intermittently hear someone in the audience singing it fine -- come up to the stage and help, then.

On my way home: Feral rhubarb next to the sidewalk at Gorham and Broom. Chautara restaurant's traditional chalk drawing for Wiscon being worked on by the artist.

Today we had roommate breakfast and then my day was All Clothing Swap. It went great, with huge volumes and lots of volunteers. We have an entire car full of donations that we need to take to Goodwill at some point; the front desk printed us directions to a drive-up donation center. (Previous years have gone to St. Vincent de Paul, but they apparently don't accept underwear, and there are some good bras here.) Currently I am exhausted, with hip, knees, and feet that are being very sad at me. I probably should have eaten lunch. The Gathering cookies disappeared before I got there. I probably should go get dinner now.

But I got such the best skirt, and some other good stuff too. I am still not convinced this very 80s top fits me as it should, but it is hot pink zebra print, come on. The octopus T-shirt may be appropriated by hattifattener when I get home, so I'd better wear it before then. And!!! A swap volunteer I met at karaoke last night not only had a Rarity toy as a keychain on his bag (<3 <3 <3) but will give me his extra one.

Tonight my plan is to curl up at the vid party for the entire night, which will be (1) awesome and (2) roughly my physical and interaction capacity.

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OMG YOU GUYS I AM UNPACKING THE BASEMENT STORAGE HOLY CRAP YAY

And it's taking forever. Mostly because every single thing I unpack is absolutely filthy with drywall dust, so I attack it with a duster to get the worst off, then I wipe it down completely with a damp cloth, and if it's wooden furniture (which a lot of it is) I then Pledge the damn thing to within an inch of its life.

I smell like lemons.