Turn it down!
Since extended warranties are claimed so rarely, the profit margins on them run as high as 40% to 80%, says Marlys Harris, finance editor for Consumer Reports. That can pad a company's bottom line nicely. During 2004, in fact, nearly 100% of Circuit City Stores' (CC) and 50% of Best Buy's (BBY) operating income came from extended warranties, say analysts. Is it any wonder that the big box retailers aggressively push these contracts?
Jul 8, 2005
The empty seat at the table...
I don’t try to mark time so much presently. Days go by, running together, passing at a faster and faster rate. I succumb to the denial all manage as we grow older, the point where you’re not anticipating another birthday, just trying to ignore it. Oddly though, much as life may inevitably change - much as you try to resist change, constants are still in every person’s life to contrast that change. One such constant for me has been and remains seeing family at the holidays.
I’m not the baby of the family anymore, graduating to the ‘grown ups’ table long ago but unquestionably, comfort is still derived in being around ‘your people.’ People you know and love. People connected by the ties of blood or marriage who accompany you for the better part of your ride through life. People you see each and every year at certain times. Those who can recall a time when you weren’t marked by the bumps and bruises accumulated during your time here on earth.
Family is important. I find as I get older, it becomes even more important to me. I never thought of myself as having much in the way of family so, I am thankful for what little family I possess. Ironically, as I grow to enjoy being around my family more, there is less time left to me enjoy their company.
Each family has its own traditions. One of ours is the post meal card game. I couldn’t tell you when the game really started but, I do remember joining in somewhere during my late teens or early twenties. Being able to play in the game was a special privelege, a great boon if you would, a rite of passage from the recesses of childhood into the adult world. Accepted into the pantheon that was the core of players. Over the years some came, others went but, a select few of our number wound up sitting down after dinner and before coffee year in - year out. Admittedly as the number of games mounted, I found myself increasingly looking forward to each game. Our tradition, the menfolk sitting down, pretending to be big shots among one and other in our high stakes game of quarters.
Play cards with the same people through the years and you come to recognize the kind of player a person is. You get surprised every now and again but it doesn’t matter because the game itself, the banter, the company, just being there is what’s fun. Also, age becomes less of a barrier as you rack up time on the planet. A gap of ten or twenty years doesn’t mean as much as it did when you were younger. You start seeing people as they are rather than what you imagine them to be.
Well, we lost a player last week.
I’m not good enough to be able to do a man justice and sum up his life in a few sentences. What I can say is our last card game was at Christmas. Christmas was at Bob and Linda’s house. Bob broke out the new tabletop he had gotten for a gift from his son-in-law. He beamed with pride over the big holiday score, along with the nice set of chips, it wound up being a treat for all of us, a step closer to legimitizing our game. We played, we joked, we did all the same good natured ribbing of each other we all enjoyed.
I may be mistaken but, I’m thinking Bob was the big winner that day. Now, six short months later he is gone.
We went to visit him at the hospital last week - appropriately enough on the day where the sky opened up with rain. Bob had been asleep since Saturday and my cousin had been at his side standing vigil. It was tough on her, she had hardly been away from his side since he was admitted to the hospital almost two weeks prior but, you spend thirty years with someone I imagine you don’t ever want to ponder a day when they won’t be with you anymore.
Bob didn’t look at all like the smiling man who gleefully piled his chips before him. There was an ever increasing wall as his winnings mounted. The happy, vivacious charlatan has been spirited away and replaced by a small frail figure. Occasionally, his slight frame evidenced a great shudder showing the incredible weight of his illness. Sitting in the small room it was hard to reconcile the man I knew with the ravaged figure before me.
There wasn’t a shortage of people though, well-wishers, friends, family. People whose lives had been affected by Bob, by his energy, his joy of life. It is at these moments bearing witness to a person stirring the last embers of a precious fire before it dims, you confront mortality, you wonder what the measure of a person truly is. How can success or failure be measured? What is the legacy a person leaves behind?
Sitting in his hospital room and over the subsequent days after Bob’s passing I came to realize the measure of life’s wealth and simply put it is in the lives we touch. As the fates would have it, Bob turned out to be one of the wealthiest men I have ever had the privelege to know and he will be sorely missed.
I don’t try to mark time so much presently. Days go by, running together, passing at a faster and faster rate. I succumb to the denial all manage as we grow older, the point where you’re not anticipating another birthday, just trying to ignore it. Oddly though, much as life may inevitably change - much as you try to resist change, constants are still in every person’s life to contrast that change. One such constant for me has been and remains seeing family at the holidays.
I’m not the baby of the family anymore, graduating to the ‘grown ups’ table long ago but unquestionably, comfort is still derived in being around ‘your people.’ People you know and love. People connected by the ties of blood or marriage who accompany you for the better part of your ride through life. People you see each and every year at certain times. Those who can recall a time when you weren’t marked by the bumps and bruises accumulated during your time here on earth.
Family is important. I find as I get older, it becomes even more important to me. I never thought of myself as having much in the way of family so, I am thankful for what little family I possess. Ironically, as I grow to enjoy being around my family more, there is less time left to me enjoy their company.
Each family has its own traditions. One of ours is the post meal card game. I couldn’t tell you when the game really started but, I do remember joining in somewhere during my late teens or early twenties. Being able to play in the game was a special privelege, a great boon if you would, a rite of passage from the recesses of childhood into the adult world. Accepted into the pantheon that was the core of players. Over the years some came, others went but, a select few of our number wound up sitting down after dinner and before coffee year in - year out. Admittedly as the number of games mounted, I found myself increasingly looking forward to each game. Our tradition, the menfolk sitting down, pretending to be big shots among one and other in our high stakes game of quarters.
Play cards with the same people through the years and you come to recognize the kind of player a person is. You get surprised every now and again but it doesn’t matter because the game itself, the banter, the company, just being there is what’s fun. Also, age becomes less of a barrier as you rack up time on the planet. A gap of ten or twenty years doesn’t mean as much as it did when you were younger. You start seeing people as they are rather than what you imagine them to be.
Well, we lost a player last week.
I’m not good enough to be able to do a man justice and sum up his life in a few sentences. What I can say is our last card game was at Christmas. Christmas was at Bob and Linda’s house. Bob broke out the new tabletop he had gotten for a gift from his son-in-law. He beamed with pride over the big holiday score, along with the nice set of chips, it wound up being a treat for all of us, a step closer to legimitizing our game. We played, we joked, we did all the same good natured ribbing of each other we all enjoyed.
I may be mistaken but, I’m thinking Bob was the big winner that day. Now, six short months later he is gone.
We went to visit him at the hospital last week - appropriately enough on the day where the sky opened up with rain. Bob had been asleep since Saturday and my cousin had been at his side standing vigil. It was tough on her, she had hardly been away from his side since he was admitted to the hospital almost two weeks prior but, you spend thirty years with someone I imagine you don’t ever want to ponder a day when they won’t be with you anymore.
Bob didn’t look at all like the smiling man who gleefully piled his chips before him. There was an ever increasing wall as his winnings mounted. The happy, vivacious charlatan has been spirited away and replaced by a small frail figure. Occasionally, his slight frame evidenced a great shudder showing the incredible weight of his illness. Sitting in the small room it was hard to reconcile the man I knew with the ravaged figure before me.
There wasn’t a shortage of people though, well-wishers, friends, family. People whose lives had been affected by Bob, by his energy, his joy of life. It is at these moments bearing witness to a person stirring the last embers of a precious fire before it dims, you confront mortality, you wonder what the measure of a person truly is. How can success or failure be measured? What is the legacy a person leaves behind?
Sitting in his hospital room and over the subsequent days after Bob’s passing I came to realize the measure of life’s wealth and simply put it is in the lives we touch. As the fates would have it, Bob turned out to be one of the wealthiest men I have ever had the privelege to know and he will be sorely missed.
Jul 7, 2005
Meanwhile...
How stupid are these guys to actually believe this is going to serve any purpose other than to get people madder and united in their resolve to obliterate these morons - these fanatics?
I was trying to track down something regarding terrorism throughout history and it ineffectiveness as a means of achieving political aims. I remember hearing something about it not being a terrible useful tool (I am chagrined to admit is was during some dialog from the West Wing) when contrasted against non violence.
Then I came across this which I found interesting:
Suicide attack is an ancient practice with a modern history. Its use by the Jewish sects of Zealots and Sicarii (“daggers”) in Roman-occupied Judea [1] and by the Islamic Order of Assassins (hashashin) during the early Crusader times are legendary examples.[2] The concept of “terror” as systematic use of violence to attain political ends was first codified by Maximilien Robespierre during the French Revolution. He deemed it an “emanation of virtue” that delivers “prompt, severe, and inflexible” justice, as “a consequence of the general principle of democracy applied to our country’s most pressing needs”. [3]The Reign of Terror, during which the ruling Jacobin faction exterminated thousands of potential enemies, of whatever sex, age, or condition, lasted until Robespierre’s fall ( July 1794). Similar justification for state-sponsored terror was common to 20th-century revolutions, as in Russia (Lenin), Cambodia (Pol Pot), and Iran (Khomeini).
How stupid are these guys to actually believe this is going to serve any purpose other than to get people madder and united in their resolve to obliterate these morons - these fanatics?
I was trying to track down something regarding terrorism throughout history and it ineffectiveness as a means of achieving political aims. I remember hearing something about it not being a terrible useful tool (I am chagrined to admit is was during some dialog from the West Wing) when contrasted against non violence.
Then I came across this which I found interesting:
Suicide attack is an ancient practice with a modern history. Its use by the Jewish sects of Zealots and Sicarii (“daggers”) in Roman-occupied Judea [1] and by the Islamic Order of Assassins (hashashin) during the early Crusader times are legendary examples.[2] The concept of “terror” as systematic use of violence to attain political ends was first codified by Maximilien Robespierre during the French Revolution. He deemed it an “emanation of virtue” that delivers “prompt, severe, and inflexible” justice, as “a consequence of the general principle of democracy applied to our country’s most pressing needs”. [3]The Reign of Terror, during which the ruling Jacobin faction exterminated thousands of potential enemies, of whatever sex, age, or condition, lasted until Robespierre’s fall ( July 1794). Similar justification for state-sponsored terror was common to 20th-century revolutions, as in Russia (Lenin), Cambodia (Pol Pot), and Iran (Khomeini).
Don’t be surprised if it turns out the London bombings were carried out by a single person.
Why?
A single person carrying out such a plot is less likely to have things go wrong in terms of choreographing the event. A lone bomber would be harder to guard against and catch. Look at the spacing of the bombings. The time between each explosion is relatively short and the three tube bombings all occur on trains running along parallell or intersecting lines suggesting one means of executing the attack could simply be a matter of leaving an unattended package aboard a very crowded train and setting it off via means of a timer or cell phone detonator. The person would just be catching another train and merely looking like a passenger who, in a rush, overlooked their parcel. The direction the trains were proceeding at the time of the blasts will determine whether or not this theory has any credence.
Now, that’s not to say they (the lone bomber) wouldn’t have had the support and cooperation of a larger group of people (co-conspirators) but, with the forethought the person charged with the actual placement of the devices would be committing suicide by blowing themselves up (making identification difficult) it would make the task of linking the bombing to co-conspirators all the more difficult. Three bombs are set off in the tubes, followed by a bus bombing which obliterates the physical remains of the bomber, scattering his body parts over a wide area. Bearing in mind, this kind of a ‘sacrifice’ on the part of the bomber, would be considered heroic on his part (as evidenced by prior attacks), the theory is not entirely implausible.
Why?
A single person carrying out such a plot is less likely to have things go wrong in terms of choreographing the event. A lone bomber would be harder to guard against and catch. Look at the spacing of the bombings. The time between each explosion is relatively short and the three tube bombings all occur on trains running along parallell or intersecting lines suggesting one means of executing the attack could simply be a matter of leaving an unattended package aboard a very crowded train and setting it off via means of a timer or cell phone detonator. The person would just be catching another train and merely looking like a passenger who, in a rush, overlooked their parcel. The direction the trains were proceeding at the time of the blasts will determine whether or not this theory has any credence.
Now, that’s not to say they (the lone bomber) wouldn’t have had the support and cooperation of a larger group of people (co-conspirators) but, with the forethought the person charged with the actual placement of the devices would be committing suicide by blowing themselves up (making identification difficult) it would make the task of linking the bombing to co-conspirators all the more difficult. Three bombs are set off in the tubes, followed by a bus bombing which obliterates the physical remains of the bomber, scattering his body parts over a wide area. Bearing in mind, this kind of a ‘sacrifice’ on the part of the bomber, would be considered heroic on his part (as evidenced by prior attacks), the theory is not entirely implausible.
Jul 4, 2005
You’d think I was making this stuff up...
During a simulated Chemical attack, Brian and few other soldiers were tasked to complete their mission, while wearing Chemical protective clothing. While wearing the clothing he released gas and noticed that he couldn’t smell any odor nor could anyone else. But it wasn’t until one morning when Brian’s wife had an episode of gas did Brian make the connection
...but wait it gets better, for those who blame the poor dog:
DOGGIE DIAPER MODEL AND A THONG MODEL
Many things may cause a dogs system to create excessive malodorous gas (farts or flatus) such as their diet, digestive problems, medications, or old age. Your dog may have gastrointestinal problems, just like a human. Age can also affect the digestive tract of your dog. Your best friend deserves to eat the food he wants. You should enjoy his close company and not be disturbed by his gaseous emissions. Flat-D Innovations has tested and developed two models of Canine gas odor control- No more stinky or smelly dogs! Pet and dog odor from flatulence are a thing of the past.
Oh, and the dog looks so happy now too!
During a simulated Chemical attack, Brian and few other soldiers were tasked to complete their mission, while wearing Chemical protective clothing. While wearing the clothing he released gas and noticed that he couldn’t smell any odor nor could anyone else. But it wasn’t until one morning when Brian’s wife had an episode of gas did Brian make the connection
...but wait it gets better, for those who blame the poor dog:
DOGGIE DIAPER MODEL AND A THONG MODEL
Many things may cause a dogs system to create excessive malodorous gas (farts or flatus) such as their diet, digestive problems, medications, or old age. Your dog may have gastrointestinal problems, just like a human. Age can also affect the digestive tract of your dog. Your best friend deserves to eat the food he wants. You should enjoy his close company and not be disturbed by his gaseous emissions. Flat-D Innovations has tested and developed two models of Canine gas odor control- No more stinky or smelly dogs! Pet and dog odor from flatulence are a thing of the past.
Oh, and the dog looks so happy now too!
Jun 30, 2005
You can’t make stuff like this up...
If you think Tom jumping up and down on Oprah’s couch was strange, take a look at this...
Xenu was about to be deposed from power, so he devised a plot to eliminate the excess population from his dominions. With the assistance of “renegades,” he defeated the populace and the “Loyal Officers,” a force for good that was opposed to Xenu. Then, with the assistance of psychiatrists, he summoned billions of people to paralyse them with injections of alcohol and glycol, under the pretense that they were being called for “income tax inspections.” The kidnapped populace was loaded into space planes for transport to the site of extermination, the planet of Teegeeack (Earth). The space planes were exact copies of Douglas DC-8s, “except the DC-8 had fans, propellers on it and the space plane didn’t.” DC-8s have jet engines, not propellers, although Hubbard may have meant the turbine fans.
When the space planes had reached Teegeeack, the paralysed people were unloaded and stacked around the bases of volcanoes across the planet. Hydrogen bombs were lowered into the volcanoes, and all were detonated simultaneously. Only a few people’s physical bodies survived.
The now-disembodied victims' souls, which Hubbard called thetans, were blown into the air by the blast. They were captured by Xenu's forces using an "electronic ribbon" ("which also was a type of standing wave") and sucked into "vacuum zones" around the world. The hundreds of billions of captured thetans were taken to a type of cinema, where they were forced to watch a “three-D, super colossal motion picture” for 36 days.
Now the rant with Matt Lauer about psychiatrists takes on a new light.
If you think Tom jumping up and down on Oprah’s couch was strange, take a look at this...
Xenu was about to be deposed from power, so he devised a plot to eliminate the excess population from his dominions. With the assistance of “renegades,” he defeated the populace and the “Loyal Officers,” a force for good that was opposed to Xenu. Then, with the assistance of psychiatrists, he summoned billions of people to paralyse them with injections of alcohol and glycol, under the pretense that they were being called for “income tax inspections.” The kidnapped populace was loaded into space planes for transport to the site of extermination, the planet of Teegeeack (Earth). The space planes were exact copies of Douglas DC-8s, “except the DC-8 had fans, propellers on it and the space plane didn’t.” DC-8s have jet engines, not propellers, although Hubbard may have meant the turbine fans.
When the space planes had reached Teegeeack, the paralysed people were unloaded and stacked around the bases of volcanoes across the planet. Hydrogen bombs were lowered into the volcanoes, and all were detonated simultaneously. Only a few people’s physical bodies survived.
The now-disembodied victims' souls, which Hubbard called thetans, were blown into the air by the blast. They were captured by Xenu's forces using an "electronic ribbon" ("which also was a type of standing wave") and sucked into "vacuum zones" around the world. The hundreds of billions of captured thetans were taken to a type of cinema, where they were forced to watch a “three-D, super colossal motion picture” for 36 days.
Now the rant with Matt Lauer about psychiatrists takes on a new light.
Ah, you’ve got to feel sorry for the ladies...
...the average self-flagellating female, swimsuit shopping is as pleasurable as paying taxes and getting a root canal. Most styles are designed for porn stars or nymphets...
...the average self-flagellating female, swimsuit shopping is as pleasurable as paying taxes and getting a root canal. Most styles are designed for porn stars or nymphets...
I’m indulging myself today (so please your pardons). I have finally installed Tiger on the two main machines - after much procrastination. Now, I am enjoying playing around with Safari and finally getting a chance to use all those cool things previously denied me because of my stubborn reliance on old software.
Now just to get all the other software installed and running properly!
Now just to get all the other software installed and running properly!
My life as furniture...
I was at a function over the weekend where I was asked ‘what I was doing,’ to which I replied, ‘nothing.’ That’s not entirely true when I pause and give it some thought. I’ve found a new career as furniture for the cat - it would appear there’s nothing better than using me as a warm place to sleep.
I was at a function over the weekend where I was asked ‘what I was doing,’ to which I replied, ‘nothing.’ That’s not entirely true when I pause and give it some thought. I’ve found a new career as furniture for the cat - it would appear there’s nothing better than using me as a warm place to sleep.
Jun 29, 2005
Finally there is proof!
...or is there?
Came across this today and the first thing which struck me was maybe it’s not so much the drug as the condition that results from taking it:
Last month, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration said it had 38 reports of blindness caused by a a condition called NAION or non-arteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy among users of Viagra.
...or is there?
Came across this today and the first thing which struck me was maybe it’s not so much the drug as the condition that results from taking it:
Last month, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration said it had 38 reports of blindness caused by a a condition called NAION or non-arteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy among users of Viagra.
Jun 27, 2005
Memories of another childhood hero...
Passed along to me by The Beck was the sad news regarding the passing of Paul Winchell:
At 82 Paul was still active and was working on streaming video that would showcase full half hour children shows from the 50’s and 60’s. Not just his shows, but as many performers as he could get that had wholesome children's programming. He wanted it all to be free to the public.
Clicking on the link or image above will take you to the man’s site - he lead an amazing life.
In 1963, he patented an artificial heart that he said was a collaboration with Henry J. Heimlich, inventor of the maneuver for choking victims. Mr. Winchell’s device was considered the prototype for the one designed by Robert K. Jarvik that was successfully implanted in a human in 1982.
Heimlich later said: “I saw the heart, I saw the patent and I saw the letters. The basic principle used in Winchell’s heart and Jarvik’s heart is exactly the same.”
Passed along to me by The Beck was the sad news regarding the passing of Paul Winchell:
At 82 Paul was still active and was working on streaming video that would showcase full half hour children shows from the 50’s and 60’s. Not just his shows, but as many performers as he could get that had wholesome children's programming. He wanted it all to be free to the public.
Clicking on the link or image above will take you to the man’s site - he lead an amazing life.
In 1963, he patented an artificial heart that he said was a collaboration with Henry J. Heimlich, inventor of the maneuver for choking victims. Mr. Winchell’s device was considered the prototype for the one designed by Robert K. Jarvik that was successfully implanted in a human in 1982.
Heimlich later said: “I saw the heart, I saw the patent and I saw the letters. The basic principle used in Winchell’s heart and Jarvik’s heart is exactly the same.”
Jun 23, 2005
Picking up speed...
So, it’s official - I’m over the hill. Along the road of life, I climbed, crested and now am on the downward slope. I don’t feel that way personally but, I have heard from someone recently I was ‘too old.’
It was shocking really.
After having been ‘too young’ for things, I never realized I had progressed into that age bracket where I was ‘just right.’ I guess I blinked and I missed it.
Now, I’m too old.
I don’t think you’re ever too old myself. I don’t feel any different mind you. I don’t feel as if some bridge has been crossed. Certainly there are ways in which my body reminds me of the passage of time.
- Things don’t heal quite as fast as they might have years ago.
- My energy level (which was never something to brag about to begin with) hasn’t noticeably diminished but, I do notice a fatigue on those days after I’ve done something like walked a few miles around the city on a hot day lugging around the city with the always too heavy bag full of stuff (people wonder what’s in that bag, wouldn’t you all like to know).
- And of course, there’s the seemingly growing array of various noises and aches my body subjects me to over the course of the day.
These are the only ways I would have acknowledged that the years have gone by.
Oh, and of course whenever I see one of those ‘candid’ pictures someone snaps of you (when you really don’t want them to take your picture). I see a person who I almost don’t recognize. Some lines on the face, some gray in the hair, a bit of paunchiness and some bags under the eyes - who is that person anyway?!?! Yes, it’s the person masquerading as me.
Like I said, inside the house that hosts my consciousness - nothing feels like it’s changed - only the image staring back from the mirror each day is different.
So, I was told I’m ‘too old,’ what to do, what to do?
Of course, the person who told me this is someone who is considerably my junior. This is something which I found a little ironic. Over a decade separates me from the arbiter of my fate. Strangely enough, these kinds of judgments are never made by someone who is older than you, only by someone who is younger.
I know our society emphasizes youth but, as I lap years I can’t help but look back on the past with a certain wry appreciation of my own naivety. I imagine each generation suffers from the same plight - that certainty they’ve seen it all, done it all and are that much more tuned in to the world than those who have come before.
So, after my initial indignation, my next thought was: hee, hee, hee... boy, if you aren’t in for a surprise.
So, my youthful judge you’ll have excuse me if I don’t go out and buy the plot just yet.
So, it’s official - I’m over the hill. Along the road of life, I climbed, crested and now am on the downward slope. I don’t feel that way personally but, I have heard from someone recently I was ‘too old.’
It was shocking really.
After having been ‘too young’ for things, I never realized I had progressed into that age bracket where I was ‘just right.’ I guess I blinked and I missed it.
Now, I’m too old.
I don’t think you’re ever too old myself. I don’t feel any different mind you. I don’t feel as if some bridge has been crossed. Certainly there are ways in which my body reminds me of the passage of time.
- Things don’t heal quite as fast as they might have years ago.
- My energy level (which was never something to brag about to begin with) hasn’t noticeably diminished but, I do notice a fatigue on those days after I’ve done something like walked a few miles around the city on a hot day lugging around the city with the always too heavy bag full of stuff (people wonder what’s in that bag, wouldn’t you all like to know).
- And of course, there’s the seemingly growing array of various noises and aches my body subjects me to over the course of the day.
These are the only ways I would have acknowledged that the years have gone by.
Oh, and of course whenever I see one of those ‘candid’ pictures someone snaps of you (when you really don’t want them to take your picture). I see a person who I almost don’t recognize. Some lines on the face, some gray in the hair, a bit of paunchiness and some bags under the eyes - who is that person anyway?!?! Yes, it’s the person masquerading as me.
Like I said, inside the house that hosts my consciousness - nothing feels like it’s changed - only the image staring back from the mirror each day is different.
So, I was told I’m ‘too old,’ what to do, what to do?
Of course, the person who told me this is someone who is considerably my junior. This is something which I found a little ironic. Over a decade separates me from the arbiter of my fate. Strangely enough, these kinds of judgments are never made by someone who is older than you, only by someone who is younger.
I know our society emphasizes youth but, as I lap years I can’t help but look back on the past with a certain wry appreciation of my own naivety. I imagine each generation suffers from the same plight - that certainty they’ve seen it all, done it all and are that much more tuned in to the world than those who have come before.
So, after my initial indignation, my next thought was: hee, hee, hee... boy, if you aren’t in for a surprise.
So, my youthful judge you’ll have excuse me if I don’t go out and buy the plot just yet.
The return of Mac clones?
Or cheaper Macs? Interesting article about the implications of Apple’s switch over to the Intel Processor:
Apple also could eventually feel financial and consumer pressure to license the Mac OS after the Intel switch because consumers will be better able to compare Windows-based PCs with Macintosh computers and determine the premium paid for the Mac OS and the computers’ design. That transparency could well force Apple to bring computer prices more in line with those of its PC rivals, which, unlike Apple, typically sell their machines at thin profit margins.
Or cheaper Macs? Interesting article about the implications of Apple’s switch over to the Intel Processor:
Apple also could eventually feel financial and consumer pressure to license the Mac OS after the Intel switch because consumers will be better able to compare Windows-based PCs with Macintosh computers and determine the premium paid for the Mac OS and the computers’ design. That transparency could well force Apple to bring computer prices more in line with those of its PC rivals, which, unlike Apple, typically sell their machines at thin profit margins.
A revised opinion...
The Yankees don’t play in Flushing and
The Mets are in the toilet.
Just a painful June. The Astros came to town and the Mets went south it seems.
There are four guys I am hoping the Mets will pursue - I doubt they’ll get them but I certainly hope they do.
The players are:
__________
Sean Casey
__________
Alfonso Soriano
__________
Eric Milton
__________
Mark Redman
Casey is a first baseman from Cincinnati who apparently can “be had” and should combined in a trade to allow Cincinnati to get out from under the contract for Eric Milton (which they must be having second thoughts about).
The Pirates are always trade partners and rumors are that Redman is available for the right package.
Soriano is too keen on his sojourn in Texas (according to the rumblings) and a change of scenery could only benefit Kaz Matsui - plus with the abundance of starters currently it would be very possible for the Mets to package Zambrano or Ishi to get a decent second baseman.
We’ll see.
The Mets are in the toilet.
Just a painful June. The Astros came to town and the Mets went south it seems.
There are four guys I am hoping the Mets will pursue - I doubt they’ll get them but I certainly hope they do.
__________
Sean Casey
__________
Alfonso Soriano
__________
Eric Milton
__________
Mark Redman
Casey is a first baseman from Cincinnati who apparently can “be had” and should combined in a trade to allow Cincinnati to get out from under the contract for Eric Milton (which they must be having second thoughts about).
The Pirates are always trade partners and rumors are that Redman is available for the right package.
Soriano is too keen on his sojourn in Texas (according to the rumblings) and a change of scenery could only benefit Kaz Matsui - plus with the abundance of starters currently it would be very possible for the Mets to package Zambrano or Ishi to get a decent second baseman.
We’ll see.
Jun 21, 2005
What better remedy for the first day of summer...
...than to put up a link to a Christmas card gallery.
Below is the infamous and unforgettable “Reindeer by Committee” holiday card by my friend Mark Favreau. Nothing has ever captured the lunacy of working in the industry quite like this card. The gallery of his various holiday cards is worth a look (Mark’s a terrific artist) and Mark’s a multi talented guy having done everything from a CD ROM game (back when it was a trailblazing thing to do) to all kinds of design work.
1989. Furthering the point, this card was picked up by bunches of folks and organizations who, apparently feeling neglected that they were not consulted during its creation, wanted copies, permission to reproduce it, claim it as their own, rip it off, improve it, revise it, and otherwise participate in the creative process after the fact.
Check out his site. Better still hire him for some work!
...than to put up a link to a Christmas card gallery.
Below is the infamous and unforgettable “Reindeer by Committee” holiday card by my friend Mark Favreau. Nothing has ever captured the lunacy of working in the industry quite like this card. The gallery of his various holiday cards is worth a look (Mark’s a terrific artist) and Mark’s a multi talented guy having done everything from a CD ROM game (back when it was a trailblazing thing to do) to all kinds of design work.
1989. Furthering the point, this card was picked up by bunches of folks and organizations who, apparently feeling neglected that they were not consulted during its creation, wanted copies, permission to reproduce it, claim it as their own, rip it off, improve it, revise it, and otherwise participate in the creative process after the fact.
Check out his site. Better still hire him for some work!
Jun 20, 2005
Pardon me, my mouth went off and I didn’t know it was loaded...
Blog Sensei is feeling remorse. She wrote something which apparently got someone else in trouble and now she feels terrible about it:
Because of flippant, arrogant comments I made someone is else is being made to pay a very high price, which is worse to me than if I was fired because of something I said.
Working from the assumption (as I do), I manage to piss off most of the world at any given time I find myself unencumbered by the pangs of conscious.
Most of the time that is...
I still write what I want but, you’ll see those little apologetic after words if I think I might have stepped over the line and offended someone else’s delicate sensibilities. Which is surprising, I never get the sense there’s this great movement out there going on sacrificing for the sake of my feelings but, living in a politically correct society as we do all language has become somewhat akin to walking amidst a minefield. You never know when what you say will set a bomb off.
Of course, I have to say that I take great pleasure in reading the musings of my Blog Sensei. While it hasn’t made us grow any closer as two people, I find her to be an intelligent, thoughtful, sensitive and graceful person. There aren’t a lot of people who I would proscribe those qualities to but in essence, I think that goes to show you what a special person I believe her to be.
Consequently, anything that would stifle her from voicing her thoughts really is bothersome and angers me. It angers me in the futile way men get angry, that stupid yell at the sky kind of rage that just makes a person look foolish and is usually unwelcome.
All I’m getting at is Blog Sensei is a pretty quiet person for the most part, quashing her beautiful means of expression is a crime. Probably one of the reasons I like and respect her so much is that I know she really is sorry for whatever did happen which is probably a lot more than can be said about the person or persons making an issue of the whole thing.
At the end of the day, it’s all just speculation on my part. Just another instance probably of me sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong but for those of you that do know her, I hope you’ll take it as a cue to do something nice for her if only to make her feel a little better.
Blog Sensei is feeling remorse. She wrote something which apparently got someone else in trouble and now she feels terrible about it:
Because of flippant, arrogant comments I made someone is else is being made to pay a very high price, which is worse to me than if I was fired because of something I said.
Working from the assumption (as I do), I manage to piss off most of the world at any given time I find myself unencumbered by the pangs of conscious.
Most of the time that is...
I still write what I want but, you’ll see those little apologetic after words if I think I might have stepped over the line and offended someone else’s delicate sensibilities. Which is surprising, I never get the sense there’s this great movement out there going on sacrificing for the sake of my feelings but, living in a politically correct society as we do all language has become somewhat akin to walking amidst a minefield. You never know when what you say will set a bomb off.
Of course, I have to say that I take great pleasure in reading the musings of my Blog Sensei. While it hasn’t made us grow any closer as two people, I find her to be an intelligent, thoughtful, sensitive and graceful person. There aren’t a lot of people who I would proscribe those qualities to but in essence, I think that goes to show you what a special person I believe her to be.
Consequently, anything that would stifle her from voicing her thoughts really is bothersome and angers me. It angers me in the futile way men get angry, that stupid yell at the sky kind of rage that just makes a person look foolish and is usually unwelcome.
All I’m getting at is Blog Sensei is a pretty quiet person for the most part, quashing her beautiful means of expression is a crime. Probably one of the reasons I like and respect her so much is that I know she really is sorry for whatever did happen which is probably a lot more than can be said about the person or persons making an issue of the whole thing.
At the end of the day, it’s all just speculation on my part. Just another instance probably of me sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong but for those of you that do know her, I hope you’ll take it as a cue to do something nice for her if only to make her feel a little better.
Jun 19, 2005
The next big thing?
I remember back in ancient days ('94?) reading about technologies that would replace SCSI. Things like USB and Firewire where you wouldn’t be limited to a seven device chain. People forget about the SCSI limitation nowadays but, it’s one of a number of tech standards that have come and gone over the last decade and a half (floppies, Bernoullis, Syquest, Zip, Jaz, CDs - anyone? anyone?). Well, I was doing my morning reading and came across this article and thought I would pass it along - the clincher in this case of course is the thing about the tech being on the market by ’06 pr ’07. Imagine 25 DVDs on a stamp!
One of IBM’s more promising near-term technologies is its Millipede data storage technology. The device — which works on a principle similar to those old data punch cards that those of us who are 40 or older used in the 1970s — employs atomic-sized tips to create pits about 10 nanometers wide that are then read as bits of data. This technique will allow a device the size of a postage stamp to hold the equivalent of 25 DVDs. If IBM can bring the technology to market in 2006 or 2007, as expected, it could represent a new way to store massive amounts of data and fuel wide-scale use in next-generation cell phones, digital cameras, and PDAs.
I remember back in ancient days ('94?) reading about technologies that would replace SCSI. Things like USB and Firewire where you wouldn’t be limited to a seven device chain. People forget about the SCSI limitation nowadays but, it’s one of a number of tech standards that have come and gone over the last decade and a half (floppies, Bernoullis, Syquest, Zip, Jaz, CDs - anyone? anyone?). Well, I was doing my morning reading and came across this article and thought I would pass it along - the clincher in this case of course is the thing about the tech being on the market by ’06 pr ’07. Imagine 25 DVDs on a stamp!
One of IBM’s more promising near-term technologies is its Millipede data storage technology. The device — which works on a principle similar to those old data punch cards that those of us who are 40 or older used in the 1970s — employs atomic-sized tips to create pits about 10 nanometers wide that are then read as bits of data. This technique will allow a device the size of a postage stamp to hold the equivalent of 25 DVDs. If IBM can bring the technology to market in 2006 or 2007, as expected, it could represent a new way to store massive amounts of data and fuel wide-scale use in next-generation cell phones, digital cameras, and PDAs.
Jun 15, 2005
More on the Wal-Mart virus...
The thing that got me looking into this was Frontline’s excellent program on Wal-Mart’s impact on America. If you haven’t seen it, it is really worth trying to catch. Frontline has a lot of the video and related materials up on their website but, you’ll need a big pipe for the streaming video.
Last year we imported $36 billion of goods from China. We exported only $3 billion and most of what we sent out was raw materials to service China’s production boom. “We export cotton; we bring in clothing,” Smith explained. “We export hides; we bring in shoes. We export scrap metal; we bring back machinery.”
Add it all up and you get a record trade deficit with China that will likely exceed $150 billion this year. “You definitely see the imbalance in trade when you come down to the port,” says Smith.
The thing that got me looking into this was Frontline’s excellent program on Wal-Mart’s impact on America. If you haven’t seen it, it is really worth trying to catch. Frontline has a lot of the video and related materials up on their website but, you’ll need a big pipe for the streaming video.
Last year we imported $36 billion of goods from China. We exported only $3 billion and most of what we sent out was raw materials to service China’s production boom. “We export cotton; we bring in clothing,” Smith explained. “We export hides; we bring in shoes. We export scrap metal; we bring back machinery.”
Add it all up and you get a record trade deficit with China that will likely exceed $150 billion this year. “You definitely see the imbalance in trade when you come down to the port,” says Smith.
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