I had a moment to catch up with the old blog before my Passport appointment at the Post Office. No travel plans. No emigration plans. But supposedly the Real ID thing will be Real this year and if I’m going to get a federal identity document, I’m going to get the one that can get me not merely to Nevada, but to Japan, just as well. I saw the other day that we were at 150 yen to the dollar! That would be a nice budget vacation for a solo traveler! But we’re going to Kentucky for a little family shindig later this year.
2025-03-05 Wednesday
A nice summary by Roger Farnworth about the Zelenskyy meeting, explaining how it demonstrates many dynamics used by abusers, and some advice on where we can make a difference in the world. Jon Stewart had a punchier analysis, using WWE to explain that “Trump turned ‘heel'” by nut-punching a good guy. America thus changed from a “Face” that everyone loves, to a bad guy “heel” that everyone loathes. This works if your ambition is to end the post-WWII international order, where the United States is a friend to democracy, and want to instead run the world as one of competing “Great Powers” that can bully their respective geographic Spheres of Influence.
You and I can’t end this Darkness from the top. But we can be agents of Light in our own lives, working from the bottom. I appreciate that Roger Farnworth listed organizations you can support. I haven’t done much, yet. Well, I do a lot in raising my boys, and the regular work of helping out around the community, lately more with Cub Scouts.
With the new car I figured out how to configure the “preset up/down” buttons to “seek up/down” buttons so when I drive somewhere I hear new voices and new music from the region where I live. We have two public radio stations, plus KPFA, and Stanford’s KZSU. This morning I caught the most uplifting woman on the Bollywood station. She wasn’t talking about The News. Just light, uplifting banter to help us all rise to the day. At the coffee shop, I skipped social media and found an email to send her a thank you. I’ve been giving money monthly to my mainstay public radio, KQED, for years, a bit higher in recent years. Well, a week or two back I ponied up $10/mo for KPFA. They were talking about Fredrick Douglas and I’m looking forward to receiving my Fredrick Douglas graphic novel as a Thank You Gift.
2025-03-19 Wednesday
I wonder if we are falling into a pace with the Trump Regime. The headlines are shifting away from Elon and towards the courts ordering Congressional funding restored and Federal workers back to their jobs. The madness will continue, but unless you’re Chuck Schumer, there is some balance in a vast number of people fighting back. Not just in the United States, but our allies boycotting American products to repudiate threats of Trade Wars and Shooting Wars. Solidarity all over the place. Unless you’re Chuck Schumer. Fuck that guy.
This weekend I drove past the Tesla dealership twice. The first time was too early: all quiet. The next trip was between 2-4pm on a Saturday when both sides of the street are lined with protestors. I was with the kid. We slowed with windows down and I tooted the horn. Two hours per week at the Tesla dealer isn’t the most radical protest but Sunnyvale’s a very quiet town and it helps.
The wife visited Target to get cash from the ATM. She said it was a ghost town with no checkout lines. I said they should have boycotts more often. We went off in search of kids shoes. The first local business was out of stock, but we got the hook up at Nordstrom. I have no idea of their DEI policies. What I do have an idea of is the CEOs of Amazon, Facebook, and Google stood at Trump’s side at the inauguration. I think we’re informally boycotting Whole Foods, cut back on Amazon, find local merchants … I’m still on Facebook but the wheels have been coming off that site more and more over the past few years … Google is not easily avoided. I like my Android phone and my Gmail but the momentum is changing.
There are a billion shades of grey, but come Collaborators put themselves out there. People whose desperation for power flagrantly outstrips their innate moral character. These are the people who choose the front row photo ops with the Next Autocrat. These are the people, who, when in a position to fight, tuck tail and sell out. These are the targets of our ire, and there is a lot of ire that needs expression.
Sunnyvale has no Trump Tower, but Elon Musk has conveniently opened a chain of MAGA Embassies throughout affluent blue communities to receive our ire. For two hours a week. Pace ourselves.
A week later, the older son and I spent a while at the Tesla protest down on El Camino. It was cathartic.
2025-04-01 Tuesday
For the record, the passport and passport card were received within a few weeks. We aren’t running. We are here for the fight.
The President gave a speech before a joint session of Congress on Tuesday. I normally watch such speeches out of civic interest, but I skipped, because I am exhausted from all the news, I expected no good news, and because he looks to television ratings for validation.
I did catch the beginning on NPR. I wasn’t paying attention. But I heard Al Green’s disruption. I tuned out shortly after, but hoped that Al Green was going to be only the first of many Democrats ready to fight with proper vigor against the dismantling of the Federal Government and our Constitution.
Well, not so much. Representative Green was censured for his actions. He gave a speech acknowledging his censure and proceeded to explain why he did what he did. I appreciated what he had to say to such a degree that I transcribed a portion to share.
Why, Al Green, would you come to the well, before your colleagues and the world, and commit an act of incivility?
Here is why. Because when the President of the United States, right there, at that podium, addressed the members of Congress–Democrats seated on this side, seated, many of them saying nothing–the President of the United States looked upon them, pointed toward them, and said–I quote–and said: “lunatics.”
The President of the United States, at a Joint Session of Congress, called members of Congress “lunatics.” That was an act of incivility!
Incivility! There comes a time when you can not allow the President’s incivility to take advantage of our civility. And that’s what’s happening in our country. His incivility is overwhelming our civility. We can not allow this. [My] act of incivility was in direct response to the President’s incivility.
Mister President: you sir, you were wrong, when you pointed to the members of Congress, and called them “lunatics”–Democrats, I might add–called them “lunatics.”
The President hasn’t been sanctioned. President hasn’t been reprimanded. No censure of the President. The President is above the law. Supreme Court has said as much. He can do things that no other can do.
Above the law as it relates to certain things, but not as it relates to all things, but not as it relates to all things. Not all. He is still subject to the norms of society. The decorum that you expect from me, you have to respect, and expect from the President. Why would we allow him to use his incivility, and expect me to continue to engage in civility as it relates to his incivility?
Mister President, there are some of us who are going to stand against your incivility. We have reached a point in our history where we have to harken back to that which got us to this point in our history.
I remember the 60s. I remember Dr. King. I remember The Movement. I remember what it took to get me in this House. I’m not here because I’m so smart. I’m not here because of brilliance or good looks. I’m here because people made great sacrifices.
And it was incivility. It was disruption. But they were prepared to suffer the consequences. We’re going to have to resort to the same tactics that we used in the 60s. But we did it for a worthy and noble cause. Calling the members of Congress “lunatics” was not noble, Mr. President. It was an ignoble–ignoble act of incivility.
But I remember how we marched and how we protested. And I’m prepared to do it again. If you treat me like you treated me in the 60s, I’m going to respond the way I responded in the 60s. It is time for us to use the same level of incivility that was used in the 60s for a noble cause: to save Medicaid, to protect Medicare, to prevent the demise of Social Security. It is time for us to take that stand!
Incivility emanating from the highest office in the land can not be tolerated and has to be negated.
You see, I picked up a very old 15″ MacBook Pro. Very Old like around a decade? I paid not more than $50. The battery officially “needs maintenance” but it is fine for web browsing or playing games while sitting on the sofa. Or it was, because Apple stopped supplying OS updates and then Google stopped supplying Chrome updates on the old MacOS and then Steam dropped support because it uses Chrome as an embedded browser. So, just slap Linux on there . . . but if we’re doing things in The Old Ways why not try FreeBSD?
FreeBSD was my first free Unix Operating System. I must have first used it in 1996? It is a great server OS, and made a fine desktop in the old days as well. Sometime in the aughts I transitioned to Ubuntu Linux, just because a more mainstream OS tends to have better support.
So, I busted out my old 4GB Cisco-branded USB key and tried it out. The crisp white fonts detailing the bootstrap felt comforting, probably from Old Days. The installer set up ZFS and added a user. From there I had to bust out a USB wifi dongle that had driver support. I worked my way through setting up nvidia drivers and X windows and KDE, and . . .
Once Plasma was running, it was easy enough to switch the display scaling to 150%. I was mostly home!
It was more effort just to get that far than I am used to with Linux. But, I enjoyed working my way through The Handbook like it was the late 90s all over again. That we watched an episode of “Babylon 5” while the system churned through a pile of Internet downloads really got that 90s vibe going. I couldn’t su. Then I recalled the wheel group, granted myself access, then installed sudo.
Alas, I got into trouble installing steam and google chrome because something was wrong with the Linux emulation required for both. And I had no clue how to get the internal wifi working. And the dongle was slow. Like 90s Internet. So, the next day, I busted out a 16GB Kingston USB device and brought kubuntu in. Quick work. ubuntu-drivers figured out how to activate the internal Broadcom wifi, though I had to manually sudo apt install nvidia-driver-470, but FreeBSD had given me the clue for that earlier:
So, you could say, the visit to FreeBSD had been worth the trip.
2025-02-07 Friday
Yesterday I set out to catch up on bills. First order of business was to wipe the old phone and put it in the return mailer to get some trade-in credit from Google. I then noticed that my personal workstation was lagging on keyboard input. I tried a reboot. It got stuck at boot and soon after, stuck at BIOS. Fearing the worst, I started removing components: video card, M.2 daughter card, RAM … not until I disconnected the 2TB SATA drive did the system show signs of health. That was my “mass storage” where I keep the Photographs and Video. I dropped by Best Buy and grabbed a 2TB M.2 card . . . because there are actually slots on the motherboard, then I began the process of pulling the backups down from rsync.net.
My troubleshooting was backwards, you might figure: why not disconnect the hard drives first? Well, in my work life, I encounter bum hard drives often enough, and normally what happens is the system boots, there’s a delay in mounting the failed device, and then boot completes with an error message. Not booting at all . . . I guess this is a difference, probably, between a server-class motherboard and the thing I have in my home workstation which has blinky lights on it to appeal to gamers.
Didn’t get through any bills. And I had a Letter of Recommendation to write — my first, which I apologetically delayed. This morning, I ran up to The Office for All Hands, which got postponed . . . doing Something New is always somewhat intimidating. I was tempted to ask an AI for guidance but I’m a Gruff Old Man from the previous century, so I googled up “letter of recommendation” and got a nice template to follow. Combining that with a little more research and a little bit of writing talent and a desire to Come Through for Someone I wrote up what I felt was a pretty decent Letter of Recommendation and I hope my grateful friend finds some success in their endeavor.
Yay me for personal growth. Yay friend if they get the position! (Or even if they don’t. Personal Growth all around.)
2025-02-21 Friday
This obsession with the immediate “unburdening” of a thing you created is common in non-Japanese contexts, but I posit: The Japanese way is the correct way. Be an adult. Own your garbage. Garbage responsibility is something we’ve long since abdicated not only to faceless cans on street corners (or just all over the street, as seems to be the case in Manhattan or Paris), but also faceless developing countries around the world. Our oceans teem with the waste from generations of averted eyes. And I believe the two — local pathologies and attendant global pathologies — are not not connected.
The modern condition consists of a constant self-infantilization, of any number of “non-adulting” activities. The main being, of course, plugging into a dopamine casino right before going to sleep and right upon waking up. At least a morning cigarette habit in 1976 gave one time to look at the world in front of one’s eyes (and a gentle nicotine buzz). Other non-adulting activities include relinquishment of general attention, concentration, and critical thinking capabilities. The desire for deus ex machina style political intercession that belies the complexities of real-world systems. Easy answers, easy solutions to problems of unfathomable scale. Scientific retardation because it “feels” good. Deliverance — deliverance! — now, with as little effort as possible.
The Modern People came here from across the sea. Where they come from, they had been punished for what they believe. They say this land has been promised to them by God, and that they and their children will settle themselves all across the fertile parts of the land.
But we live here, as our ancestors did. What of us?
The Modern People say we should sign The Treaty. We will leave the places where we live now, the lands our ancestors knew, and we will be given an area of less fertile land. The Modern People say that we can live in our own ways and make our own laws in our own new land. They say they will protect our right to live there, just as they protect their right to live in their new land. They say that they will look after us. We will have enough food. They will share their Modern Medicine. If our children wish, they may even learn the Modern ways themselves.
Our children and their children will have less than their ancestors had. They will lose the lands our ancestors knew. They will need to rely on the The Modern People who took away the land in the first place. They will need to trust these Modern People not to take more. And more. And more.
But our people will still be alive. We will still be us. What choice do we have? If we do not sign The Treaty, there will be War. A War we will not survive.
2024-05-22 Wednesday
Lt. ________,
I am contacting you on the advice of ________. I was voicing concern regarding a neighbor who, as an act of protest against the bike lane in front of his house at ________, deliberately blocks the bike lane with his waste bins. Pickup day is Tuesday, so starting on Monday night, he’ll place the bins in the middle of the bike lane.
I see no harm if someone wants to protest the system. In this case, one house is forcing cyclists to merge into traffic on a bus route approaching an elementary school. There’s plenty of danger. Often, when I pass his house, I pull his bins to the curb as a courtesy.
Yesterday, he came out of his house and started yelling at me not to touch his bins. I explained that blocking the lane was dangerous and that he could be sued for injury. He yelled insults and vowed to move the bins back to the middle of the lane.
I called Public Safety, but they seemed a bit confused. The desk officer said it is illegal to park a car in a bike lane, but bins? I suggested that deliberately obstructing a roadway and endangering public safety might be a situation that could be resolved by a calm discussion with a uniformed officer. I later learned that CVC 21211(b) covers this situation.
This afternoon, around 3 pm, I saw that he was using yard work as a rationale to place his yard waste bin in the middle of the bike lane. I respect his tenacity. However, if someone from Public Safety could convince him to facilitate a safe roadway, we would all be better off.
Thank you for hearing me out. I can be reached at ________ if you have any questions.
-danny
2025-01-27 Monday
May was a long time ago. I am amazed at people who have the tenacity to stick with the same hobby year after year, decade after decade. I tend to rotate around my interests. What is new becomes old, then gets set aside, and later becomes new again. The Blog is a thing like that. Is it new again? We will see.
My informal goal for the year is to get an ADU built in the back yard. I spoke with cotta.ge last May, and they suggested a good price that I don’t entirely believe, but it gave us a little confidence.
But it is also a huge project: financing, architect, general contractor! And while the ADU rules in Sunnyvale are permissive, they also prohibit short-term rentals, so the initial concept of a guest suite for relatives and others doesn’t work. Also, our lot is on the small side, so we would likely want an attached ADU. At that point, the project becomes one of adding some space to the house while also building an ADU: the ADU gives us more flexibility in expanding our house in exchange for providing a badly-needed housing unit! Back-of-the-envelope is the high rents around here should cover the high construction costs around here, so with any luck we could add a home office / guest room for family “for free” in exchange for becoming reasonable landlords to hopefully reasonable tenants.
I need to sustain the energy to measure and sketch something out and pick up a book on home improvements. I have a vision I just need to find some follow through.
Oh, here’s a test, by the way … I upgraded this blog’s OS and PHP so now I wonder if I can upload pictures without first reducing their size.
Maximum upload file size: 2 MB.
Buhhh, will need to work on that, yet!
. . .
Fix DNS on an Ubuntu VM that was originally built in 2016 … edit /etc/php/8.3/apache2/php.ini and finally systemctl restart systemd-resolved and …
Nobody reads my blog. And that’s okay. Nobody read my blog when I started back in 1996, either. For about a decade, blogs were a thing. Now they’re quiet again.
Now I am middle-aged, and life is full with family and work. There’s no time and need for a blog. But sometimes I feel the itch. I give it a scratch. Sometimes I look back on what I’ve written recently. It pleases me. That’s all we need.
An excellent headline. This shop is “just around the corner” from where I grew up, at least in Suburban terms. I went to a closer bike shop, though mainly I had access to an on-site mechanic I call Uncle John.
Ross found himself in the city because he fell in love with a Chicagoan and left his old life behind for her. Although she died two years ago, Ross can’t return to the Amish community he grew up in because he was shunned for choosing to marry her, he said.
“I was so blessed to have her in my life,” Ross said. “Even knowing how things turned out, I’d still make the same choices a thousand times over because I had never experienced love like that before. But, it’s challenging to live here without her to protect me. … I miss her constantly.”
Ross has remained committed to his faith and still follows many of the Amish traditions he grew up with. His wife helped him learn to use a phone and navigate public transportation, but she “respected that [he’d] always be Amish,” Ross said.
The couple’s strong bond “developed naturally,” and they easily found ways to co-exist, Ross said. For example, Ross won’t take any photos that show his face, but he got pretty good at snapping pictures of his wife. When Ross proposed, he gave her a ring as she expected. But instead of wearing one himself, he honored Amish traditions by growing out his beard.
Fixing electric bikes helps Ross “keep his mind off things,” he said. He also finds a lot of joy in caring for his dog, Lucy, who he brings everywhere with him.
“I just keep to myself and let others deal with people,” Ross said. “My favorite part of my work is designing a concept, then bringing it off the page into reality, and seeing how happy and surprised the customer looks when they pick it up.”
Relatable guy.
2024-04-08 Monday
2024-04-09 Tuesday
Sometimes your local Planning Commission is a forum for personal frustrations. We call this Democracy.
2024-04-12 Friday
Some people’s best angles are behind them.
2024-04-12 Friday
I was walking to the train station but it rolled up early. The gates came down and the train rolled into the station. A few young women went around the down gates to make their train. I wanted to Follow The Rules and wait for the gate, but experience has taught me that Caltrain can not be trusted to wait. I looked both ways and joined the crowd rushing to board the train. We got up the steps and the train was rolling ten seconds after the scheduled departure time. I have read that in Switzerland the trains depart at 59 seconds after. (I can not verify this information … Swiss trains appear to depart at the top of the minute.) I found an article that in New York, trains unofficially depart one minute after the official time. But I learn Caltrain doesn’t treat the timetable as a schedule and that passengers are recommended to arrive ten minutes before the posted time because trains will totally leave early. (A coworker shared a story of missing an 11pm train that had left early. Ouch!)
Then there was a 35-minute delay at California because of a “trespasser” incident. Someone had died on the tracks. Probably a suicide but I was upset that the railroad’s practices induce reckless behavior. Had I waited for the gate to raise, I would have missed my train, and had to wait 45 minutes for the next train, which was itself delayed another 20 minutes.
My train home departed 30 seconds before the timetable. In Japan, this would warrant an apology. But with Caltrain, passengers could have just waited around for another twenty-ish minutes for the next train. After all, it is rush hour! The train “ran hot” down to Mountain View, where the conductor explained that you could get off the train to catch the express to San Jose, because as early as our train was, it was going to have to wait at Lawrence for the express to pass.
So … why?
After the stress of running across the tracks in the morning, because the railroad doesn’t care about the passengers and then catching sight of someone’s Last Day, I needed to take a walk. I did spy a diesel train pulling an electric trainset up the tracks. The progress made me happy. We’ll soon be running Swiss trains. Maybe we can run on Swiss schedules.
2024-04-13 Saturday
The taxes are done now, which is important because we are having a nice overnight trip with the in-laws on Sunday.
Thursday was nice. Older kid graduated across the Arrow of Light into Scouts BSA. What we called “Boy Scouts” in my day but now that girls can join “BSA” is like “YMCA.” I’ve volunteered with the Cub Scouts so I went down to the Scout Shop and picked up a tan shirt and patches to wear at the ceremony. Baby Adult Leader. The guy at the shop said if I volunteer with Cub Scouts and BSA I can get velcro from the craft store to facilitate swapping-of-patches without having to buy two shirts.
I googled and found lunch at the nearby Uncle John’s, which is a pancake shop in this hip San Jose neighborhood. I ate and walked across the street and visited the Bike Store, called Upshift, formerly La Dolce Vella. They had Bianchis out front but I was curious to “ask about bikepacking” and so I did and the deal is you roll up with a sleeping bag and $100 and they’ll roll out to the State Park in a group and spend the night and feed everyone. I need to get on that.
On my way out through the gorgeous mansions adjacent to the hip shopping district I saw what I thought was an Estate Sale but turns out it was a rummage sale for the local Neighborhood Preservation association. If you weren’t a registered NIMBY it was $5 admission. I had somewhere to be anyway so I left peacefully.
We had Pho for dinner, because it was across from the Auditorium, and because we love us some Pho. My belly is still full from drinking the broth. Elder Son walked across the bridge, and the guys from his new troop adorned him with a fancy new bi-color kerchief. It’s weekly meetings from here on out, but led by the boys, and I have some Tigers to lead. Life is good.
2024-03-13 Wednesday
Last night on the TV, a “man on the street” Trump supporter explained that yeah he would love for Trump to be a dictator for four years. I had to pause the video and rant. “That’s not how dictators work, dumbass!”
I think the majority of Americans still figure Democracy is good and worth keeping but this is going to be a year that tests our faith.
2024-03-14 Thursday
Pi Day. Yesterday, in “Ministry for the Future,” a Science Fiction novel about Climate Change, I got to the chapter where they saw the first anthropogenic YoY drop in Carbon Emissions. They achieve sequestration at 475 ppm. What’s that from where I sit? I looked it up. We’re at 420 ppm, going up about 5 ppm per year. At a constant rate, that is … eleven years from now? 2035? Maybe if emissions start to slow, but they seem to be picking up. (The book notes a decade of levelling, so 2045.) What I saw yesterday was that we’re at 1.6 degrees C, or about 80% to the 2.0 C threshold where we become more likely to hit tipping points that lead to an irreversible transition towards a jungle planet. An uninhabitable zone around the equator, and a truly massive extinction that takes a few million years to recover from.
And the refugees! There are so many already and we’re trying to keep them “under the rug” but the number will only grow.
I live in one of those cool bubbles where … we are trying. I saw that near 40% of new vehicles sold in the San Jose metro are EVs or at least plug-in hybrids. That’s something. Incentives to electrify your house. There are trends around the world that may cause the tide to flip. But will it happen in time?
Last century had the Pandemic at year 18. By year 45, they had concluded The Ultimate Battle Between Good and Evil. Their First Battle started in year 14, and that’s when Putin took Crimea. If the Ukraine Invasion counts as the start of our Ultimate Battle … 2028? This century has been gentler than the last, so far. So far.
In year 45, I’ll be an Old Man, if I am still around. I hope to be. I hope along the way to be a force for good. It is my Sons I worry about. They’re growing into Interesting Times and I hope The Ancestors can guide and comfort.
We have been watching “The Bear” which is, imho, incoherent and overrated, but the scenes are spliced together with L trains and skyscrapers. I get a nostalgia for the Old Country. RJ says that people from Chicago who settle elsewhere always feel an instinct to return. The instinct is not found in suburbanites or people from downstate. The instinct is for the children of the city. I count myself among them. I feel the pull. But I’ve also settled in California. Married. Bought a house. Once I suggested we look at a house in Chicago, just to see. My son was not having it. “I don’t want to switch schools,” he said. Fair enough. I am a Californian. There’s a sense of The Future here. The air and the politics tend to be clean, and there’s little crime in my suburb. But not much character, either. The sprawl has a monotonous consistency that reflects the weather.
But today it is raining, so anything is possible.
2024-02-02 Fr:
There’s a sense that educated, middle-aged people who buy houses and raise families in the suburbs should naturally become more conservative and vote Republican. The bread and butter of the GOP. But it turns out all us would be Republicans like stuff like healthcare, racial diversity and bodily autonomy, so there’s a bunch of missing Republicans, more Atheists, fewer white people, and now pop stars are corrupting our football heroes!? If this keeps up the only people left who can be relied upon to vote Republican will be racist basement trolls, evangelical Christians, and crypto Libertarians.
This demographic is the bread and butter of any fascist movement. Donald understands this on an intuitive level and he lacks the capacity for shame. He will take this group as far as he can. The adoration of a culture’s worst people is one hell of a drug.
2024-02-05 Mo:
It has been rainy and windy. Yesterday, our power went out. On a tip from a neighbor, I walked down to where the line had failed. It was easy to spot, thanks to the fire engine and the tape. There was a burning smell in the air and a spot in the park strip that was smoldering at the end of what had at some point been a live wire. I stood nearby with a couple of other onlookers and we caught video clips as the man in the bucket was lifted into the air, then carefully trimmed back the remaining pieces of the broken wire.
I correctly deduced that, because there were a lot of power outages, this crew was just a first responder, clearing away the danger, and another crew would come out for repairs when they could. I got home, dug out the flashlights, and as the evening came on, we went downtown for dinner. The street where the line had fallen was open, and I pointed out the missing wire. On the way back, the street was again closed and we saw two bucket trucks and two light trucks getting ready for action. The lights were on a couple of hours later.
2024-02-06 Tu:
At first they were just itchy spots. We could feel them here and there, with greater frequency. Too small to see. But before long I could see flocks of the buggers scurrying across the floor. There was nothing we could do to get rid of them, we knew. There would just only ever be more of them. I found a fly in my drink. I tried to ignore it, knowing the futility, that little grubs were surely suffused throughout the glass, like so much microplastic. When I decided to try and fish it out, it had become two flies, thrice the size, just floating contentedly on the surface, confident in their inevitable triumph.
When I awoke, I figured the dream was about cancer. I feel a tender spot beneath my eye, and I choose to believe that I recently got bumped in the face at some point I don’t remember. Stray elbows in the night.
2024-02-14 We:
I noticed this mild-looking guy had a large, black tattoo shaped like Texas on his forehead. Then I remembered it was Ash Wednesday.
2024-02-23 Fr:
Q: Anything else you would like to tell us about the check-in process for flight number 1093 from DEN to SFO departed on 02-22-2024?
A: I got hit with the “carry on bag fee” which I have avoided on previous flights. Since enforcement is lax, opting in to the fee is pointless, and when you do have to pay you just feel like Frontier Airlines is overall this weird gamble for people who are trying to save money but maybe have to occasionally and randomly cough up an extra $200 because they wanted to read a book on the plane, and because their kid’s plastic carryall is an inch larger than the sizer. It feels like some weird immigration checkpoint designed to remind people who don’t have a lot of money that they will always be subject to random cruel indignities.
To be sure, this reminder is probably appropriate given our xenophobic tendencies and flirtation with fascism.
Q: Anything else you would like to tell us about your experience at the gate at the DEN airport on 02-22-2024?
A: Oh shit this is not about the carry-on fee but the actual check-in. I travel with my kids, and every time I check in, we are seated apart, then the gate agent has to go and fix the seat assignments. You don’t make any money on this: you are wasting labor. Program the damn computer to “randomly” seat children with their parents and you’ll be a more efficient and profitable airline.
The article “Teenagers’ accidents expose e-bike risks” published on July 30 is a master class in victim blaming. We are provided several examples of someone riding an e-bike who is then injured or killed when being forced to mix with motorized traffic.
The problem isn’t e-bikes, the problem is that we have chosen not to provide safe routes for people to get around on bicycles. E-bikes magnify this failure by making it easier for more people to ride.
E-bikes can also lead to the fix: as more people ride bicycles, there will be more pressure to build safe routes for people to get around on bikes. More bicycles means fewer cars on the road, reduced Carbon emissions, and less road congestion.
We need to stop blaming our children for our failures and get to work.
I wait in the lobby, sprawled on a bench. At one point there’s more of a crowd. I sit up and set the carrier on the floor.
I wait. And I wait. Staff have called in sick, but the triage nurse is on top of things.
I watch the parade. A family comes in with a dog. The dog is in trouble. They go back right away.
I wait. And I wait. Another family comes in with another dog. This dog is in trouble. They go back right away.
I wait, and I watch the families return, one by one, teary eyes. No dog.
I wait. The front desk quietly chatter about clients selecting urns.
I wait. The front desk staff leave.
It is 2am. I see the Doctor. We run through The History together. I am not very good answering questions. My middle aged mind doesn’t run full tilt at 2am. The bulb on the cat’s nose that is filled with puss, one can squeeze like a zit. “Your cat is not very happy with me now.” Fair enough. A prescription for something that can stimulate appetite. Wear gloves and rub it in the ear. Alright.
We get home. The cat is hungry. I feed her. I may not need to rub medicine in her ears.
I have friends who in 2023 have occasion to leave their house and they return with breathless reports of how few people at the airport were wearing masks. They cluck to each other at how sad it is that humanity seems to have given up the fight against the Coronavirus. Meanwhile my prison friend says that he’s probably had Coronavirus a half dozen times. He says he doesn’t want to get a vaccination because he really doesn’t trust the government.
Rags
Time Magazine likes to talk about how great it is to have been Time magazine in the past. An attentive reader is in and out in fifteen minutes.
The New Yorker Magazine will explain that living in New York today has it’s moments, but that the world is full of meaty goings on and it can be fascinating to explore a few of these things in depth if you have a few hours to kill. Or just look at the cartoons. This is New York, after all.
Detour Spiral
Public Transit advocates are concerned that because of a lack of funding and a lack of riders, public transit could soon enter a death spiral which means they cut back services so fewer people ride so they cut back services, etc.
This morning, the highway was closed down on both sides because of a multiple car pileup. Death Spiral. My children and I rode our bikes to school. On the way back some douchebag in a truck felt obliged to honk his horn at me because he had to detour around the Death Spiral and what kind of jerk rides a bicycle down a narrow neighborhood street?
SFO Outbound
On our way to the gate, we saw a pack of soldiers, dressed in fatigues. I got excited, a tingle, to see they were Ukraine soldiers. “Slava Ukraine,” said I. I noticed at least three prosthetics among them. A nice blade foot and two guys with claw hands. My guess is that they hadn’t come to the US for training, but for some leave, earned hard.
They got their bearings, turned around and returned in the direction they had come. Were they coming or going? When people are surviving a war, the future is especially hazy.
Any Questions?
“Any questions,” asks the waiter.
“… why is it so expensive?” Asks our older son.
“Questions about the food,” we prompt him.
But his is a good question. The food is expensive, but we have money. But when I was growing up, we wouldn’t eat at a place this expensive. We had money but not the kind of money his family grows up with. He is aware of his privilege. We want him to grow up not to be an entitled jerk. If he is occasionally questioning the Price of Things, I guess we aren’t doing so bad?
He knows he has Privilege. Why does his family have more money than others, I ask myself. Shouldn’t we all make the same … shouldn’t we be equal?
I think to myself, I have said it before, for the same money, I would wait tables. Computers are engaging but helping people is emotionally rewarding. The market economy says pay the computer technicians more to incentivize them to use the rare skills we all so desperately need. You can’t have all the computer guys wandering off to serve in more emotionally rewarding roles!
Or can you? Necessity .. invention ..
Ursula Le Guin. I think of the novel about a planet where the people have no gender, except for the brief periods where they need to mate. Their planet is Socialist. Or was it Anarchist? People are assigned jobs for a period of time by a computer. A fair system. Maybe not as efficient as we prize.
I think I would enjoy not doing the same career forever. But the money … I can not complain too loudly. This frustration is enviable.
Helping people is a reward in itself. Early on, I preferred IT. Or, as I called it: Information Services. But the economic path of the profession seeks to divorce itself from the “cost center” of “helping people work more effectively” to the prestige concept of “Engineering” … Systems Administrators call themselves DevOps now, which is a nonsense word that connotes “Developer Operators,” I guess?
I was thinking about National Service the other day. I have long thought it would be maybe not such a bad thing if we “earned” the right to vote by demonstrating our personal commitment to our collective success. But it needn’t just be a year or six months in your youth. The tree of liberty needs constant watering. Every decade or so, spend a few months helping out. In the classroom. In the streets. On the land. Cleaning a public restroom. Doing what needs doing. Helping a family with paperwork at the hospital or the funeral home. Learning the skills we will all need at some point.
The people who run the computers. The people who run our businesses. The people in charge. The People with Privilege. These are all folks who could use some better context in their “day jobs” just as anyone and everyone could use an open pair of eyes. To ask the questions worth asking.
Under Water
I have a friend who posts trench warfare videos on his Facebook. I see a lot of Russian soldiers get killed each week. I take a dose of joy and sadness at the same time.
My sympathy for people who had everything and paid a bunch of money to a charlatan and signed all the disclaimers for the adventure of riding in a janky submarine … good for them. They died as they lived. Lives of privilege. They have no need of my sympathy.
Some guy from a rust belt mining town in the Ural mountains who signed up to die in a shit-stained trench in a propaganda video on Facebook. He made a bad choice among bad options. My feels for that guy, and his family.
I wondered about the name “Las Vegas.” I am a California resident who dabbles in Duo Lingo. “Las Vegas” means “The Meadow,” named by a Spaniard who enjoyed stopping over at this grassy meadow in the desert. A meadow fed by natural springs. Later, the Americans would come and build pumps, draining the springs, and leaving the city to sink several feet into the desert sand: vegas no más. Other minds beheld this sunken place near the Hoover Dam, nodded at the lack of prohibitions on gambling, and began building casinos. The casinos begat a nice airport. Other minds contemplated diversification: cheap power, cheap land and easy logistics are all good for the datacenter business. The party will last as long as the Colorado River flows. It is a visit to the dimmed lights of the datacenter that brought me.
When America allows itself to take all its worst instincts and run with them, we get Las Vegas. The City feels like any suburb in America: a series of large shopping malls in the middle of town sealed in to their own reality, surrounded by humbler strip malls where the locals satisfy their day-to-day commercial needs. All generously connected by a grid of six lane roads and choked highways. The area leading to the Buy N Large datacenter is rocky desert strewn with trash. A developing country missing its stray dogs.
It was from the driver of the rental car shuttle bus that I gleaned a potential use for Las Vegas. As we rode from the Airport Terminal to the Car Rental complex across the street, he took to the mic to entertain and inform. The weather was in the fifties that day, but in a few days the forecast called for ninety. He then explained that the airport had recently been renamed from “McCarran” to “Harry Reid” and fortunately most of the signs have been changed, but for the first year a lot of folks had been confused. Our driver then informed us of a list of national parks and how many hours of driving they were from Las Vegas: Bryce, Zion, Death Valley, and the North Rim and the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Ah, I thought: as an air hub, Las Vegas could be a good spot to fly to with the family to rent a car and explore. Coastal Northern California is surpringly far from The West. Perhaps I would be back.
An early morning line at the airport Starbucks, where I’m pretty sure I won’t be served.
The morning was long. I had been up at 5:30 to shower, drive, park, and catch my flight. I had hoped for a pastry and coffee at the airport Starbucks, but the line was long and moved at zombie speed. I stood patiently for a few minutes until the airport loud speaker announced that my plane was now boarding, and I had the length of the terminal to cross. On the plane, the pilot announced that due to the unusual presence of Weather in California, the flight could be choppy, so no “service” would be attempted, for safety. At Harry Reid’s rental car terminal, there was a big Starbucks in the middle, but I had an orientation to get to at the Buy N Large datacenter, and at that point I had achieved my “cruising altitude” for the morning and didn’t need anything. I made my way to the cars and picked the Blue One. When asked to choose a rental car, I try to go for the most unusual color, in hopes of remembering which car I was driving.
Driving rental cars is its own pleasure for me, because at any given point in my life I am probably driving an older car. Behold, the crisp video feed from the backup camera! How does the cruise control work? Lane keeping! That’s neat. Where do I put my phone for easy navigation. Once I discover that I can pair my phone to the car’s video screen I am in a good place. At some point I ask myself whether I might want to be the kind of person who always drives a newer car. And I explain to myself that sounds nice but what is even better than that is to be the kind of person who doesn’t spend enough time driving for car quality to be important.
The Buy N Large datacenter has several entries in the Maps App. Because I had shipped some hardware last month, I recognized the street name of the one I needed to get to. I met my colleague and an armed security guard gave us the orientation, and guided us through our navigation of the sectors. Buy N Large is the largest data center I have ever worked in. It is one of those monuments which people in my line of work are likely to visit at some point in our careers. I recalled an old colleague who gave up living in Oakland, because The Company was content to have him work remote near the datacenter. He was content to rent a Large House to share with his cats, and drive out into the desert some nights to look up at the stars. Las Vegas was a home base from which he could visit The Universe.
Between orientation and getting work done I needed to eat. I asked The App for Brunch and settled on a place called “Mr Mamas.” A diner in a strip mall. Clean and efficient and delicous, with American portions. I had French Toast and eggs and a lot of coffee and was in a great mood for an afternoon of Moving Cables Around. At one point, I realized I would need More Cables which can be a problem because after all, Fry’s Electronics is no more. But the app suggested that Kiesub Electronics was on the way to Grainger. I hopped in the Blue Car and found The Cables that I needed at Kiesub. I had wanted to buy Extra but they had exactly Enough for my purposes. I got to chatting with the guy and he noted that while Fry’s had come and gone, Kiesub had stood for fifty years. We chatted some more. He inquired about me and I enumerated my blessings, and noted that for me, everything was pretty great. For Now. I’ll always remember the Lean Years after 2001. The guy had been married some decades and explained that while Marriage is Work, it really helps if you don’t take yourself too seriously. Amen.
Back at Buy N Large, I got the cables moved around and around 5:30pm, I called it A Day. I checked in at the hotel and asked for advice regarding dinner. The clerk kindly explained her favorite options which I duly checked out but I just wasn’t Feeling It. I wanted to sit at The Bar, somewhere quiet. I resorted to asking The App for Irish Pubs. After all, that is our comfort in Sunnyvale, which is the name we settled on when the Post Office told us we couldn’t call our town Murphy. The first on the list was in Mandalay Bay, which is a massive golden cube. I drove up to it, and pulled into a driveway. I passed a line of taxis wondering what the parking situation would be. I was deposited back out onto another six lane street. I asked The App again, and scrolled West into the Sprawl. I found my way to an Irish Pub in a Strip Mall. The parking lot was full, but a local vouched that the No Parking Tow Zone filled with parked cars was a place he parked Every Week. For tonight was Trivia Night.
I sat at the bar and the menu bragged that the Fish and Chips were the best in the US in 2019. I had travelled to an inland desert and I ordered The Fish and it was tasty. As suggested, I filled out the trivia cards. Brian the Owner stood near and we chatted. I told him about Buy N Large and he recounted a friend who was gifted in the ways of computers who had a confidence that he could talk himself out of anything, who had met a violent end from a neighbor who had mental problems. It was Halloween, and another Body in the yard had initially been mistaken by the kids as a decoration.
Come morning, I surveyed the Hotel Breakfast. Eager guests fed themselves off styrofoam plates, as is The Custom at American Hotel Breakfast Buffets. I allowed myself to recoil and to drive back over to Mr Mamas to enjoy the same damn meal I had enjoyed the day before. It did not disappoint. I dropped by Buy N Large to check on my colleague. My work done, I dropped in at a local coffee shop, which was okay. Back to Buy N Large, to bring my colleague to the Rental Car Return and on to the airport, where we parted ways, to our different airlines serving different sectors of the Bay Area.
I had a few hours to kill. I walked the length of the terminal, studying my options for sustenance and souveniers. I eventually settled on a $4 Nathan’s hot dog and discovered another Irish Bar next to my gate. A guy left a Blue Moon at the counter, which the barkeep acknowledged would be an insult in Ireland. I took this neglected pint under my care, which I nursed alongside my own Goose Island IPA. Another Illinoisan from Naperville who had matriculated from the same High School as the girl I had once dated from Naperville asked the Irish Bartender what he thought of the mixed drink known as an “Irish Car Bomb.” The bartender named a woman who he had known who got blown up in the early eighties. “It wasn’t intended for her, but her boyfriend, an English soldier.” If an Irish Pub promoted “Car Bombs” you could tell it was run by Americans. Conversation passed well through a third beer.
“Nevada” means “snow” and this year the “Sierra Nevada” lives up to its name.
The flight home was pleasant. I was served a Coke and a snack and had time for the buzz to recede so that I could drive home safely from the Long Term Parking, and help my sweetheart put our boys to bed.
Part of my day job involves looking at Nagios and checking up on systems that are filling their disks. I was looking at a system with a lot of large files, which are often duplicated, and I thought this would be less of an issue with de-duplication. There are filesystems that support de-duplication, but I recalled the fdupes command, a tool that “finds duplicate files” … if it can find duplicate files, could it perhaps hard-link the duplicates? The short answer is no.
But there is a fork of fdupes called jdupes, which supports de-duplication! I had to try it out.
It turns out your average Hadoop release ships with a healthy number of duplicate files, so I use that as a test corpus.
> du -hs hadoop-3.3.4
1.4G hadoop-3.3.4
> du -s hadoop-3.3.4
1413144 hadoop-3.3.4
> find hadoop-3.3.4 -type f | wc -l
22565
22,565 files in 1.4G, okay. What does jdupes think?
> jdupes -r hadoop-3.3.4 | head
Scanning: 22561 files, 2616 items (in 1 specified)
hadoop-3.3.4/NOTICE.txt
hadoop-3.3.4/share/hadoop/yarn/webapps/ui2/WEB-INF/classes/META-INF/NOTICE.txt
In the ls output, the “2” in the second column indicates the number of hard links to a file. Before we ran jdupes, each file only linked to itself. After, these two files link to the same spot on disk.
> du -s hadoop-3.3.4
1388980 hadoop-3.3.4
> find hadoop-3.3.4 -type f | wc -l
22566
The directory uses slightly less space, but the file count is the same!
But, be careful!
If you have a filesystem that de-duplicates data, that’s great. If you change the contents of a de-duplicated file, the filesystem will store the new data for the changed file and the old data for the unchanged file. If you de-duplicate with hard links and you edit a deduplicated file, you edit all the files that link to that location on disk. For example:
Both files are now 4 bytes longer! Maybe this is desired, but in plenty of cases, this could be a problem.
Of course, the nature of how you “edit” a file is very important. A file copy utility might replace the files, or it may re-write them in place. You need to experiment and check your documentation. Here is an experiment.
> ls -l hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd
-rwxr-xr-x 2 djh djh 1640 Mar 23 16:19 hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd
-rwxr-xr-x 2 djh djh 1640 Mar 23 16:19 hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd
> cp hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd
cp: 'hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd' and 'hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd' are the same file
The cp command is not having it. What if we replace one of the files?
> cp hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd.orig
> echo foo >> hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd
> ls -l hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd
-rwxr-xr-x 2 djh djh 1644 Mar 23 16:19 hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd
-rwxr-xr-x 2 djh djh 1644 Mar 23 16:19 hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd
> cp hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd.orig hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd
> ls -l hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd
-rwxr-xr-x 2 djh djh 1640 Mar 23 16:19 hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/hdfs-config.cmd
-rwxr-xr-x 2 djh djh 1640 Mar 23 16:19 hadoop-3.3.4/libexec/mapred-config.cmd
When I run the cp command to replace one file, it replaces both files.
Back at work, I found I could save a lot of disk space on the system in question with jdupes -L, but I am also wary of unintended consequences of linking files together. If we pursue this strategy in the future, it will be with considerable caution.
