RoverPundit

My name is Dork, king of kings

Look upon my nerditude, ye mighty, and despair!

This is my latest acquisition. I figured that it was time to brush up my *nix skills, while simultaneously beefing up my home network. A co-worker had these sitting in the garage, and was only too happy to hand them down.

It's going to take a little while to figure out what's good and what's busted, and even more time to reacquaint myself with Solaris, but I'll try to keep a running account going. Unless that's too geeky to bear. Then I'll stop.

Equipment is as follows:

4 SparcStation 1
4 SparcStation 5
2 SparcStation 10
1 SparcStation 20
1 Sparcstation ELC
1 SparcClassic

8 External Drive Arrays

2 External CD-ROMs

3 Tape Drives

1 19" Monitor
1 17" Monitor

Celebration

Happy birthday, Steve!

Puppy

Some people have decried the obvious bias this site has against dogs, and demanded more puppy pictures. Well, decry no more. Alison is digging up some of Tyson's puppy pictures, and I may post one of my last dog. Until then I leave you with this link, sure to warm the hearts of geeks and dog-lovers alike.

Behold the CarCam!

This guy stuck a video camera on an R/C car, chased his dog with it, then posted the movies on the internet.

Hopefully, this will hold the decriers until I can scan the other pictures.

IMNSFHO, West Highland White Terriers are the second cutest critters in the known universe, right after Cairn Terriers.

Concert

My favorite local band, Battery Park, is going to be playing Josephina's in LoDo. They always put on a hell of a show, and best of all, there's no cover.

Here are some directions, and I expect they'll go on around 7:30/8:00.

Drop me a comment or an e-mail if you'd like come along.

Ow

The lovely and talented Vicky, who had the good sense to marry a Matt, had a little run-in with a rotty. Why don't ya'll head over and sign the Get-Well-Soon card? Dog bites hurt.

And people wonder why I'm a cat person. At least, I think they wonder...

Damn you, Andy!

Damn you and your quizzes and your trackback! Bah.

Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who!


What Monty Python Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I's just kiddin', Andy. I love you. See? I posted a kitten picture. I love everyone.

Therapy dogs

This is mostly for Ali, whose guide dog flunkee* Tyson, bless his pointy little head**, works as a therapy dog at Craig Hospital. Nice to see therapy dogs getting some press.

HEALTH CARE: Therapy dogs bring smiles to patients

JAMESTOWN, N.D. -Ferbie grew up on a farm near Windsor, N.D., where, like many other Shetland sheep dogs, he was to spend his life herding cattle. But Ferbie lacked the herding instinct.

And when Ferbie began teaching another farm dog how not to herd cattle, his owners called the James River Humane Society to see if it had room for him.

Kaye John, president of the society, had been looking for a Sheltie to train as a therapy dog. Ferbie was adopted immediately and, at age 3, he moved to Jamestown for a new career.

John, who works with preschool children at Head Start, had seen therapy dogs brighten the days of people in hospitals and nursing homes.

"I saw what these animals could do for the elderly people," John said.

At first, John considered using the shelter's dogs to visit residents at nursing homes and the Anne Carlsen Center for Children. The James River Humane Society could not afford liability insurance, so she decided to pursue the idea privately.

There's more, well worth reading.

*Tyson is a Golden Retriever who is unfortunately possesed of an enhanced prey instict and dominance issues. Basically, he chases anything that moves, and he doesn't listen. Alison raised him from a puppy, volunteering for Guide Dogs for the Blind, and truly delivered above and beyond the call of duty. It's just a fact of life that the vast majority of candidates don't make it through the training and are adopted out of the program. Some, like Tyson, become "career change dogs" and work as therapy dogs or canine companions.

**If I can get a picture, I'll post it. He is a cute dog, though the "pointy little head" remark is not mere hyperbole. He's like a memo spike with feet.

An unfortunate oversight

I realized that I've yet to Blogroll the amazing Zombyboy. This horrendous breach of blog-etiquette (bletiquette?) has been corrected, and the slave responsible is being beaten even as we speak.

Ok, fine. I don't have any slaves. Instead, I'll glare cruelly at the cats. As if they care.

I tink I got a code...

Sorry for the lack of posting. I actually have several things I'd like to talk about, such as miniature tank combat and the implications of drunkenness thereon, nifty blognews, several wine/food recommendations, all the wonderful personal news that draws you here.

Yes, you. Don't look over your shoulder. I wasn't using the plural you. You're it. The only one who comes here. Simplifies apologies, let me tell you.

Hey, come back! Don't leave. It's cold outside, and the wolves are after me...

Anyway, I've picked up what may be the ultimate stealth cold. Noticed it a few days ago, when I had the slightest hint of a scratchy throat. It never progressed much beyond that, so I wrote it off to allergies, and would have continued to be blissfully ignorant had I not been ready to pass out at seven fucking thirty on Friday night. Struggled through the weekend, drank beer and ate good (read:unhealthy) food while doing phenomenally stupid things like playing frisbee in the rain. Duh.

Andy remarked

I'm rather enjoying this concept of not posting anything significant on the weekends. Maybe RoverP is on to something.

I rather think I am. During the week, time and health permitting, I try to maintain some low standard on this blog. Occasional bursts of creativity raise the bar, and those who start reading after seeing one of these bursts quickly stop after noticing that it's a one-hit wonder kind of thing.

Above all, I do this for fun, and to stay in touch with friends. Hence the weekend absences. I have a (very) active social life, numerous hobbies, and a fiancee that deserves the highest levels of personal attention (trust me, I don't mind). Since October of last year, I've been home for exactly two weekends. One, I was nursing a cold, and the other was enforced by the current cold and a decision that if I didn't clean my apartment soon my cats would become feral. Fat and feral. There's a fun mental picture.

So there you have it. It's not that I don't love you (I'm talking to you again...), it's just that I have a life of sorts, and enjoy it. I've found a groove that works for me, and I hope that you'll forgive my frequent absences.

Oh, and if you click more, there's a kitten picture.

'Cause I love you, that's why.

Quote of the day

"Being a sysadmin is like being the parent of a two year-old who never grows up"
Unknown

Song time

Again.

"Solitude" by Edwin McCain

Tim he was a good friend
Yea was a brother of mine
We were imaginary comic book superheroes
Kids wasting time
We were prisoners of our youth
We were growing up strong
'Til the day he was taken away
For something he did wrong

Tim came 'round just the other day
And boy he had some stories to tell
His mama kept him locked up in a rehab
Although the doctors said he was well
He said yeah I been through the anger
And the hatred towards my mom
And I put all that behind me
Just tell me what was it like to go to your prom

He said thank you mom for fixing
My clouded broken mind
But excuse me if I seem a little rude
While I was missing my childhood, my brother and my prime
You enjoyed the convenience of my solitude

Well growing up these days just ain't easy
And the kids they're doing the best that they can
So mama you better think twice
Before you lock your kid up and throw away the key
'Cause soon your little boy is gonna be a man

He said thank you mom for fixing
My clouded broken mind
But excuse me if I seem a little rude
While I was missing my childhood, my brother and my prime
You enjoyed the convenience of my solitude

Tim left town yesterday
He left me with these words
He said yeah I know this life's got a lot to give
But my childhood is gone
And I'm not afraid of dying
I'm gonna grab the world by the horns and learn how to live

He said thank you mom for fixing
My clouded broken mind
But excuse me if I seem a little rude
While I was missing my childhood, my brother and my prime
You enjoyed the convenience of my solitude

Some of us knew Tim, some of us were Tim, some merely watched Tim throw his life away from a supposedly safe distance. A few of us have done all three.

Late at night, Memnosyne is nobody's friend.

Ps. If you like this song, you've got to hear Battery Park cover it.

Still ain't dead

What a weekend. Christ on toast points, I had fun. The blogbash went swimmingly, though I caught a rather large ration o' shit from Matt and Zombyboy for leaving before pumpkin-time. Ah, well. It was good to see everyone.

The rest of the weekend alternated computer-rebuilding, home improvement, and drunkenness in about equal measure. "Cheese cookies" (long story) were created and devoured with wild abandon, and good wine flowed like, well, good wine that is trapped in a house with four wine snobs. Quickly, that is.

I achieved something that I had previously thought impossible: woke up Sunday morning with a very mild hangover. I was bouncy and full of energy all day. I remember a faint alarm bell sounding in my skull reminding me that this was a highly unusual turn of events, but the beautiful day and erudite conversation quickly erased all thoughts of future consequences from my empty little head. Woe, woe is me.

Now I know that the hangover was not absent, but merely biding it's time and gathering strength in preparation for a full frontal lobe assault. I have counterattacked with aspirin while converting my office into a cave of darkness where I will hide from the legions of trackshoe-shod dwarves who are dancing the watusi in my skull.

In short, I'm not feeling so hot.

Partay!

It's about that time, kids.

See ya there.

The Baghdad Bob Show

We Love the Iraqi Information Minister

Man, I hope he makes it out. He's been the most entertaining thing I've seen on TV in a long, long time.

Open letter

There's an open letter over at Andy's place. If this war was Not In Your Name, if you marched against the use of force, if you believed that it's all about oil, you really should sign.

Don't back down now. You fought hard for your beliefs, and I'm sure you meant well...

Go.

Update: Be sure not to miss the screaming of the troll in the comments. Mykey's providing me with material by the metric buttload.

Ugh

What an exciting day it's been already. Woke up (late) this morning, noticed that my car was shifting a little heavily. By the time I got to my exit off the highway, the clutch was completely non-functional. I mean, pedal-to-the-floor-and-nothing-is-happening-oh-shit non-functional. So I synchroshift to the shop down the street from my office, turn the beast over to them, and walk into work with visions of complete clutch replacement bills dancing in my head.

About two hours later, the shop calls me to let me know it was just the master cylinder for the clutch that had blown. Whew. At ~$165 it ain't cheap, but it's better than the $500+ that I was expecting.

I finally got off my butt and sent in my entries for the Pet Blogging Day that's going on over at Jay and Jane's place. Thanks go to Andy for the reminder.

The caption contest is going swimmingly, with about 10 entries received so far. I think I'll give it a couple more days to mature. Remember: mock early, mock often!

Maybe more today. Depends on how things go.

Contest Time

My good buddy Andy's blog has been suffering from a severe case of troll infestation. It seems the good Reverend Mykeru, fresh from being banned from the Straight Dope Message Board, wrote a woe-is-me story that suckered Andy in. In Andy's defense, the story was plausible (whatever his other faults, Mykeru IS a talented writer); when Andy learned the truth, he stood up like a man and apologized to the board. Unfortunately, it was far too late. Mykey glommed onto the WWR like some kind of psychic leech, and the damage was done.

The WWR was virgin ground for a troll such as Mykey. The debates, though sometimes heated, were civil; the commenters respected others opinions while seeking to persuade differently; all in all, a pleasant place to hash out the problems of the world. Andy worked hard to build it as such.

Mykey started off positively, then went off the deep end. His argument style is a mixture of ad hom, death pr0n, and unreliable sources. He constantly threatens to leave, then attacks anyone that reminds him that the door is just waiting to hit him in the ass. He has pissed at length into the soup that is WWR.

Which brings us to...

The Contest!

I've added a script that converts comments into Mad Libs. It can be found here. Click through on the link, follow the directions, copy and paste the results, and e-mail your best effort to dork-at-roverpundit.com. There are a total of three; to get different comments just refresh your browser. Do as many, or
as few as you'd like. Be nasty, clean, whatever. I have no interest in keeping this site family friendly. The goal is to mock Mykeru as much as possible; causing me to shoot beer through my nose is just a bonus.

The original comments can be found at The World Wide Rant.

The entries will be judged by whoever I feel like asking, and the best entry will receive a RoverPundit t-shirt. Other prizes may be awarded. This contest is for my amusement, and I reserve the right to end it at any time.

Good luck, and spread the news. This should be fun.

(PS) Unlike Andy, who runs his site to encourage open debate between commenters, I run my site to amuse myself. Trolls will be banned, returning trolls will be reported to their ISP, and those who persist after all that face the possibility of legal action. This is my kingdom, I rule with an iron fist.

(PPS) If you have any comment gems you'd like to run through the wringer, send 'em in to me. I'll hack 'em up and post 'em for all to enjoy.

Contest, Part 1

Andy is running a caption contest over at his place. Why don't ya'll drop on over and tell him to let me win?

I mean, you'd do that for me, right?

Right?

Anybody?

Hungover

Again. Yay.

I swear, one of these days we're going to get together with our southern friends and somehow avoid the skull splitting, life draining hangover.

It's not that I can't handle it. I assure you, I can. It's that any self-respecting hangover should be done tormenting me in 12-24 hours, which is exactly how long it took this one to get warmed up. Hopefully I'll feel human this evening.

Oh, hell

I'm sorry. There's no way I'm going to have everything ready for my little contest today. Please forgive me.

I'm off to E-Days at the Colorado School of Mines. Tomorrow, a half day walking the plank, followed by dinner and drinkies with the best friends good wine can bribe, is going to preclude me from making any progress. Maybe Sunday?

Don't hold your breath, though. I've had several opportunities to bend an elbow with Steve and Melissa before, and I always greet the next day with a hangover of monumental proportions. No reason this weekend should be any different.

Wheeeee!!!

A mean spirited contest is coming up soon. Stay tuned...

Busy, busy, busy

Sorry about the recent hiatus. I'm a little bogged down, and this weekend is just gonna get worse. So bear with me, sign the Get Well Soon card, and I'll be back soon.

Linkies!

With that out of the way, I'd like to announce some new additions to the mighty RoverRoll. These are the sites that were kind enough to link to this post and/or give me a spot in their blogroll. So, without further ado...

The Command Post
Winds of Change
Keep the Home Fires Burning
Joanne Jacobs
Crazy Saddam
ConfigSys.boy!
Epistêmê
Expat Yank
Peoria Pundit

If I missed anyone, please let me know. Always nice to find new sites to read.

Update: Of course, I missed one. Sorry
Daghtator Blog

The Skiers Code

If you're a skier or boarder, or you know someone who is, have them read this. If you have children, read this to them. Make sure this is understood.

The Skiers Code

Respect
Do not endanger others.

Control
Adapt the manner and speed of your skiing to your ability and to the general conditions on the mountain.

Choice of route
The skier/snowboarder in front has priority - leave enough space.

Overtaking
Leave plenty of space when overtaking a slower skier/snowboarder.

Entering and starting
Look up and down the mountain each time before starting or entering a marked run.

Stopping
Only stop at the edge of the piste or where you can easily be seen.

Climbing
When climbing up or down, always keep to the side of the piste.

Signs
Obey all signs and markings - they are there for your safety.

Assistance
In case of accidents provide help and alert the rescue service.

Identification
All those involved in an accident, including witnesses, should exchange names and addresses

All the above rules are binding by law and apply to both skiers and snowboarders.

Finished? Excellent. Rant starts now.

While waiting for Ski Patrol to come, we set out skis and the board to block the trail and jump directly uphill from Dawn. According to the rules, when you see crossed skis and planted boards, you come to a halt and render assistance. Even if your assistance is not needed, you come to a stop, observe the accident scene, and detour around it slowly. Anything else puts the injured and uninjured in danger.

Of the 30 or so people who passed us while we were waiting for Ski Patrol, only 3 stopped. The rest either ignored the skis, or didn't understand what they meant. One particular fucktard went over the jump anyway and came within 5 feet of hitting Dawn and Ali.

Sad to say, the majority of these assholes were children on snowboards. Sometimes, their parents were right behind them. So this message is primarily to the parents.

Control your spawn. Take some time and learn how to behave on a slope, especially when there is someone hurt on it. Then teach your precious child that these rules must be obeyed. If you're too fucking ignorant/stupid to handle that, turn in your seasons pass and your fancy gear and GET THE FUCK OFF THE HILL! I swear, if you or your child hurts someone because you're too damned lazy to teach them to be courteous skiers or learn yourself (and some of you obviously are, judging by your sprogs atrocious behaviour in restaraunts and movie theaters), and I'm nearby to see it, I will personally follow you down the hill, personally take your pass, and personally beat your ass. I'm tired of you self-absorbed schmucks putting me and mine in danger.

If you think I'm being too hard, tough. Sitting uphill from a dear friend who appeared to be seriously hurt AND the woman I love more than life, and watching yard ape after yard ape blast past them completely out of control and with no regard to their safety made me want to kill people. You do NOT put my loved ones in danger. If you do, and I catch you, I will hurt you. Badly. End of story.

Ok. Rant over. I'm still fuckin' pissed.

Update: Ali sez...

For anyone who has half a brain, it is clear that skiing is a dangerous sport. This will be supported by the ski patrol, who keep very busy, the numerous poor souls that find out the hard way, and the orthopedic surgeons they keep in business.

I have been fortunate and have only had one major injury in my 15 or so years of skiing. In those 15 years, I have become capable, confident, and a fairly decent skiier. I enjoy spending my day on the long bump runs or back bowls... places not meant for beginners. And most of the time, this is the case; only the ones who are good enough to ski (or board) the terrain tend to go there.
However, in order for the "expert" skiiers to get to the places they like to play, they usually have to go on one or two beginner or intermediate runs. This is where I see the most idiocy.

When on a run, not only should you ski in control and be aware of other skiiers, but you need to ski at the level of the run you're on. By this I mean that the "expert" skiiers should ski at a beginner speed and level of caution on a beginner run... same as on a intermediate runs. These runs also tend to be the most crowded. It's just a disaster wating to happen when some punk-ass "expert" is bombing down the green slope at 45 miles per hour. So, all I'm saying is to please ski at the ability level of the run... and the same should go for the beginners who want to venture down a double black, although that doesn't seem to happen much, probably due to common sense. Maybe some common sense should be given to the hundreds of people a day who cause accidents on the slopes. Be careful, people, and use your head for something other than hitting a tree.

Oh yeah... and get well soon, Dawn!

Get well soon

As I stated below, weekends are my boarding and drinking time. This one was no exception, with excellent wine and silky smooth powder. In fact, I should have realized it was going too well.

Sunday, last run of the day. Ali, Dawn, and I detoured through the terrain park on our way to the base. We're goofing off, taking jumps and laughing at each other, when we see Dawn go down. She doesn't appear to be getting up, so I race down to where she fell while Ali climbs up.

Dawn had gone a little too high on a jump, came down at an awkward angle, and was lying in the snow holding her left knee. Not a good sign. We set out the crossed skis (more on this later) to warn other skiers, then I called Ski Patrol while Ali kept her company.

Scott, the Ski Patrol guy, came pretty quickly. He sized up the situation, put a splint on her leg, loaded her in the sled, and took off for the clinic with Ali and I bringing up the rear. She was loaded into an ambulance which took off before we could get to it, but it wasn't a long walk to the clinic.

Got to the clinic. The doctors examined her, and found that she had torn both the ACL and MCL ligaments in her knee. They braced it, advised her on treatment, gave her some pain pills, and off we went. She will require surgery in the next week or so, along with a few months of physical therapy, before the knee is usable.

I thought that I'd take advantage of my soapbox to set up a digital Get Well Soon card. If you could leave a comment, in a week or so I'll print off what I get and give it to her. She's having a bit of a rough time, and I think this could help cheer her up.

Thank you.

Bring me the head of a Honda engineer

I like Hondas. I've owned three or four of the things, and have had good luck with all of them. In fact, one saved my life about nine years ago.

What I want to know is this: What kind of idiot engineer designs an engine compartment in such a way as to necessitate removing both the battery and the radiator reservoir in order to change a friggin' headlight? I mean, come on. Even the rover, that paragon of British engineering, is easier to work on than this thing.

I guess I could forgive them if this car were the tiny Civic, but it's the full size Accord sedan. The engine's not that big.

So bring me his or her skull. I wish to fill it with ice to soothe my scraped and bruised hands.