Fully outfitted battlezone? Wait, that looks more like a — what?…

I’ve been wanting to make sure wordparts doesn’t get too negative.

I don’t think it tends toward the negative because I’m a negative person. [I like to think of myself as realistic but idealistic, which can be depressing.] But I think it’s just easy to be negative. You can always find something negative to rant about. People like complaining. People don’t notice the two hundred times their computer works perfectly — they notice the one time it fails. (Please substitute “five” for “two hundred” in the previous sentence if you use Windows. But I digress.)

Anyway, there’s a lot of negativity out there and I want to post useful, informative things. The Web doesn’t need any more bitching. It’s too easy.

So, without further ado, here’s an article about the depressing state of modern magazine covers. It juxtaposes recent newsstand covers with covers from those same magazines from years past. I’ve been trying not to post it for a week, under the “too much negativity sucks the life out of you and your readers” doctrine, but I just can’t help it, it’s too good.

How about this? We’ll try to use it as a lesson on how good the things we make can be if we try and if we care, not on how bad everything else is. Sounds good?

Rich people always get the good stuff… They’re the whiteys of the social classes.

— CACA! on fark.com

Well, that was invigorating. Annette and I just got through taking care of the aftermath of Julie throwing up, here at 4:45 on what looks to be an otherwise pleasant Sunday morning.

I guess it’s probably pretty normal, but to someone who is not the primary clothes washer, it was a bit odd to push vomit-covered George the [Stuffed] Monkey—whom Julie has anthropomorphized—head-first into the dark mouth of the washing machine. I was glad she was in the other room and didn’t get to see that… he was so sad looking.

Julie is an odd and charming child, and for some reason, she couldn’t stop giggling. (It’s okay to call your own child “charming” if you also call them “odd” in the same sentence, right?) At first she was giving a sad, pouty face to try to capitalize on her yakking; she’s quite the actress. I gave her what was meant to be a sad, comforting smile. She apparently interpreted it humorously, and it set her off laughing.

Well, before the surrealism fades, I’m going back to sleep. More ranting in the award-winning “Moral Imperative of Software Freedom” series in a few hours.

If nature has made any one thing less susceptible than all others of exclusive property, it is the action of the thinking power called an idea, which an individual may exclusively possess as long as he keeps it to himself; but the moment it is divulged, it forces itself into the possession of everyone, and the receiver cannot dispossess himself of it. Its peculiar character, too, is that no one possesses the less, because every other possess the whole of it. He who receives an idea from me, receives instruction himself without lessening mine; as he who lights his taper at mine, receives light without darkening me. That ideas should freely spread from one to another over the globe, for the moral and mutual instruction of man, and improvement of his condition, seems to have been peculiarly and benevolently designed by nature, when she made them, like fire, expansible over all space, without lessening their density at any point, and like the air in which we breathe, move, and have our physical being, incapable of confinement, or exclusive appropriation. Inventions then cannot, in-nature, be a subject of property.

— Thomas Jefferson

Yellow Prussiate of Soda.

Red Prussiate of Potash.

Wise ancient wizards in some second-rate fantasy novel?

Nope. Types of salt.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the Open Source movement. Or, as many would prefer—and I think it’s far more meaningful once you understand what it means—the Free Software movement.

Okay, halt! I’m stopping right there… go read this and then we’ll talk some more tomorrow.

And don’t think to yourself, “Oh, that’s some geeky programmer thing.”…it’s not just about software.

The sweet high end and the massive tight bottom…

— some guy that’s allegedly talking about speakers

I’ve been meaning to link to Cult of X for a while. Those of you who know me are probably pretty familiar with that phrase — “I’ve been meaning to…”. What can I say… I’m a dreamer. It’s better than having no plans beyond work, eat, sleep, repeat steps 1–3 for a long time (occassionally reproducing), die. Isn’t it?

Anyway, Cult of X is written by a family member of mine, Dallas Sneckner. I came across his page a few months ago while looking for his father’s e-mail address. I still haven’t e-mailed his father. But I did get inspired and go off and make wordparts, so that’s something I guess.

So check it out and add it to your bookmarks. He updates it a whole lot more often than I update my sorry excuse for a blog and he’s always got something interesting or thought provoking. And oftentimes probably something you’ll disagree with. No, it’s good for you.

Dallas, this entry struck a particular chord with me. Couldn’t agree more… and something I’ve been meaning to write about.

Our grief is not a cry for war.

— among others, Amber and Ryan Amundson, whose husband/brother was killed in the attack on the Pentagon, September 11, 2001

The New Jarvis Model HBD-1 – for the cutting out of hog bungs.

Not to be too cynical about everything that’s going on, but…

Here’s Ted Rall’s take on it.

And:

Americans love junk. It’s not the junk that bothers me. It’s the love.

— George Santayana

Okay, I think I’ve gotten that out of my system.

The world is like a ride in an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it’s very brightly colored and it’s very loud and it’s fun, for a while.

Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question: “Is this real, or is this just a ride?”

And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, “Hey, don’t worry, don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.”

And we kill those people.

— Bill Hicks

Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. Your normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side. This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop-heart. Make the bastard chase you. He will follow.

— Raoul Duke in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas