Miscellania

No, I'm not going to explain the title.

Just click on this link and all will be explained.    

I open up the Cake Eater mailbag this morning, and inside is a missive from "best"  Cake Eater Brother Timmy:

Subject: Putin

Where has he been?

Truth be told, it's (was) August: the slowest news month of the year because everyone (besides me) is on vacation.  But, never fear, we do have some newsworthy coverage from almost a month ago. 

Putin Strips for Stardom, Again

MOSCOW — Vladimir Putin drew scrutiny reserved for Hollywood action heroes this week, as Kremlin images of him fishing, swimming, rowing and riding bare-chested on a Siberian mountain were snapped up by media all over the world.

During a brief visit to the fields and streams of the Russian republic of Tuva, the Russian prime minister doffed his shirt to break cords of wood with his bare hands, ride a horse and swim a furious butterfly stroke, all for the benefit of government cameras.

Two state-owned Russian television channels broadcast video of Putin's leisure pursuits Tuesday night, and within hours everyone from the BBC to the tabloids seized on the story — perhaps grateful for something to cover in August, the slowest of news months.

The Western media seemed fascinated by the notion that the tough-talking former KGB lieutenant colonel, regarded as the shadowy power behind President Dmitry Medvedev's throne, would bare much, if not all, for an adoring public.{...}

Sexy beast, no?  And by that, of course I mean the horse.

"Da.  Dis is Brokeback Mountain.  Vhy do you ask?"

I don't know why, but I fear for the fish. 

In other, more current Putin news, he did his absolute darndest today, at the Polish commemoration of the 70th anniversary of the German invasion, to say:

{...}I want you to know that Russia has always respected the courage and heroism of Polish people, Polish men and officers who were the first to stand up against Nazism in 1939.{...}

Yeah.  Russia has always respected Poland and the Polish people. They really liked stomping hither and thither, loved the pierogies, and a deep respect for Poland and her people sprang up as a result.

In the words of Mr. Mackey, "Drugs are bad, mmmkay." 

Somehow, Vlad neglected to mention that Stalin, under his agreement with Hitler, invaded Poland two weeks later, and then when the Red Army strolled through again in early 1945, somehow, forgot to leave for the next forty-five years or so.  We're not the bad guys.  Really.  It was all about Hitler and how eeeevil the Nazis were.

Anyway, we live to please here at the Cake Eater Chronicles.  I hope you enjoyed the Vlad shots, and, no, I won't reimburse you for the bleach you bought to pour in your eyes after viewing them. 

Longtime devoted Cake Eater readers already know I'm a big, longtime, fan of Anthony Bourdain.  We went to The French Laundry based solely upon his write up of the place in A Cook's Tour.  If that doesn't get across to you that I'm a fangrrrrl, I don't know what does.  Every Monday night you can pretty much guarantee that I will be in front of the boober, watching this week's episode of No Reservations.    

Last night, Tony answered some "burning questions" the viewers had submitted.  While it's always entertaining to listen to him snark on, the show was completely stolen last night by Adam Lupsha, the visual effects editor. 

Fast forward to 6:46 and enjoy the laughs. 

And the laughs keep coming...

Heh.

It would seem as if I need to apologize to you, my devoted Cake Eater readers. 

I haven't been on the ball when it comes to approving commenting privileges, and people have had to wait days for approval. I am sorry for this.  The problem is thus: once I closed up anonymous commenting, people apply, and they have to wait until I bother to read my email to approve them.  Yet, since the bots that frequent this site also apply for commenting privileges, it takes some time to sort out the legitimate applications from the eeevil Russian-hacker-created bots who want access simply so they can spam me with suspicious links to lesbian pr0n. (Seriously, hackers, do you honestly think I'm going to approve someone who has .ru on the back end of their email address, given that your fellow countrymen hacked me in the past?  I think not.) Over the past couple of months, there have been way more bogus apps than legitimate apps, hence I've slacked on checking my email at all, assuming it will just be filled with spam. 

My bad.  

I'm very sorry and will attempt to do better in the future. 

A sorority sister posted this on her FB wall, and it was so hilarious, I couldn't help but swipe it. 

Thanks to the husband's business partner, we were able to transfer some old VHS tapes we had lying about to digital format.  One of those tapes was our wedding, but the other was a quick bit from one of the Des Moines' tee vee stations about a rather remarkable individual the husband worked with in Des Moines. 

Watch. Yes, there are a few extra moments from the newscast I should have edited, but you can just fast forward through them. 

That's Karl.  And he's one of my heroes. 

At the time, Karl was a dishwasher/champion potato peeler at Jimmy's American Cafe in West Des Moines, where the husband worked for about two years before we moved to MSP.  A little web research tells me that Jimmy's still exists, but that Jimmy himself sold it off long ago. Which is too bad: that @#$#er didn't deserve to make dime one off that sale.  Jimmy, aka Jimmy Lynch, was a sodden, rat bastard extraordinaire, whose sole purpose for owning a chain of restaurants was, seemingly, so he could hold court in the bar, sucking down countless gallons of Dewars.  Sometimes he would leave under his own steam (and, yes, he drove drunk repeatedly, but the West Des Moines cops would actually escort him home) or sometimes he would refuse to leave and a discreet call would be placed to his wife to come and get him. He regularly mistreated his employees, robbed Peter to pay Paul (aka the Budweiser distributor), and managed to alienate just about everyone with his belligerent behavior. He even managed to have at least one sexual harrassment suit filed against him when he groped a female manager and then fired her when she refused to play nice. Yet, the one decent thing Jimmy ever did in his life, the one thing he can present to St. Peter at the gates of heaven, is that he hired Karl and kept him gainfully employed when a lot of other people wouldn't have bothered. 

Karl, as you can tell from the video, is autistic, and he was a wonderful individual who always brightened my day whenever I saw him. It was always a "happy day" for Karl. 

"How are you doing, Karl?" 

"It's a happy day."

Then he would waddle back to the kitchen to resume his dishwashing activities. 

While it was a pat answer that he picked up God-only-knows where, meant to satisfy people, it, nonetheless, was always a soul-lightener. Always.  He just couldn't help but brighten your day.  His life must have seemed so much simpler for so many people, even though in reality it must have been much more complicated just because of the way his brain was wired.  He came in, washed dishes, cleaned chicken bones, peeled potatoes and had his soup break.   If someone kidded him, he would kid right back.  He was used to it.  He would then go home to his mom, who still cared for him even though she was elderly, and would repeat the process the next day.  And the next.  And the day after that.  He had a purpose, and because of that purpose, it was always a happy day. 

For years, Karl worked at the Big Boy, I believe, which was next door to Jimmy's on 8th Street in West Des Moines.  Until, one day, Karl came back from his annual camp visit, and the Big Boy was closed.  I would like to believe that no one at the Big Boy had the heart to tell Karl that the restaurant was closing, but I don't know for sure.  Karl just turned up for work, per usual, only to find that the restaurant was closed.  Someone from Jimmy's found a bewildered Karl in the parking lot, and shortly thereafter he was offered him a job.  It was one of those serendipitous events.  

Karl worked the day shift in the kitchen, washing dishes through lunch and helping with the prep for stock and the garlic mashed potatoes before the rush.  Fastest potato peeler anyone ever saw.  Hands down.  He would get into a rhythm, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, his eyes intent on his work, and he would just go to town.  When the lunch rush was over, he would have his soup break, which was seen to every day by one particular server.  If this particular server was to be absent, someone else would see to Karl's soup, and it was arranged beforehand, to make sure nothing slipped between the cracks.  No one ever blew it off, because Karl needed it to be productive, he needed to stay on schedule, and everyone was happy to help with that goal.  The one day Karl's soup break was forgotten, hell was paid, in spades, to the miscreant from the top down, and they didn't stop taking hell for weeks about their slip.  Taking care of Karl helped Jimmy's employees bond; because of him, the staff had a greater goal than just making money or getting discounted drinks in the bar, and that kept them loyal to the place for much longer than they would have in ordinary circumstances. The rats didn't flee this sinking ship. That was one tight crew, and even though people did eventually leave, they stuck around for much longer than was normal, and part of that, I believe was due to Karl.  

When the books are finally sorted, at sometime in the future, Jimmy will wind up owing Karl much, much more than Karl owes Jimmy for his job. 

I hope he's having a happy day, wherever he might be, and that someone his seeing to his soup break. 

Great fare-thee-well op-ed from the BBC's North America editor, who is leaving DC to head back to London. 

A small sampling. 

{...}The English understand that we are all falling down. Dust to dust, we intuit. Americans do not. They have not got there yet.

Truth be told, I would rather be them than us. I admire the concern over the chimney and the belief that the problem can be fixed.

I sit on the porch, in the growing evening heat of the Washington spring, the cicadas chirruping and the sound of lawns being mowed, and yearn to be staying. It would be so easy, so uncomplicated, so safe.

{...}I deplore the superstition and the eating competitions and the tatty dreariness of so much of America, and I note that the new president is also unimpressed by the infrastructure and not a fan of fat but, after more than seven years living here, I am increasingly convinced that these elements of the nation are not the flip side of the greatness of America, they are part of that greatness.

There is something about the carelessness of America that gives space for greatness.{...}

As the man said, go read the whole thing.  He takes a pretty objective look at this country of ours, and, despite the warts, finds something to celebrate. 

God, that's nasty. 

So, Apple, reportedly, has come up with a Tablet PC, which will be unveiled in September along with a way to purchase albums from iTunes. 

I don't really care.  And I fail to see why I should care.  Tablet PC's have been out for ages---and they're getting better and better with each iteration.  This is nothing earth-shattering, although I'm sure there are a bunch of Mac worshippers out there, foaming at the mouth this morning, searching the web for more leaks on the subject, and will be first in-line to buy one, once it hits the market.  There won't be any more leaks---this one was timed to get the in-crowd primed.  I don't know why people like to be easily maneuvered by Apple.  Because that's what they do.  They maneuver you into the position where they want you: drooling over gear that doesn't have nearly as much functionality as they want you to think it does. 

Why do you people fall for it, again and again?  I don't understand it.  You're not idiots.  If you can work a computer, surf the internet, manage your music collection and use a smart phone, you have a decent level of intelligence.  Why do you want people telling you where to go on the web, what programs to use, what gear to have?  Why do you have to have your world nicely slotted, with Apple pegs to fill said slots?  I just don't get it.  Why do you keep going back to a company whose default position is that you're an idiot?

Look, I know there are a bunch of Mac junkies out there who would swear to their dying breath that Macs are better for any number of reasons---the ease of use, the compatibility with the iPhone and your iPod, that nothing seemingly ever goes wrong (which, the husband will tell you is a lie, because he gets Macs into his store all the freakin' time.  Which, of course, doesn't mention the rise of the "Genius Bar" in every Apple store across the world.  Why do you need geniuses if everything magically works?) that they're so much cooler, etc.---but, really, I don't give a flying fuck about your excuses as they're easily rebutted.  You cannot freakin' right click on a mouse with a Mac unless you buy a mouse that was originally intended to be used with a PC.  Do not tell me that Steve Jobs is a genius because he came up with GUI---because he didn't; he stole the idea from Xerox Parc, and everyone knows it.  Do not tell me in a smug tone, either, that you'll never get hit with a virus on your Mac.  That's not a selling point in my book because it means that, ahem, there aren't enough Mac users to justify hackers spending time on violating your precious graphic design files, not because you have some superior security systems in place.  Apple is an iPod company; it just needs you to have a computer because that's how you sync all your toys. Once they no longer need the computer to accomplish that task, Macs will go the way of the dod.  Why?  Because iPods are where it makes its money, and some day in the future, you're going to find yourself SOL.  They will get there.  Mark my words. 

The first computer I ever used was an Apple II.  Then I worked my way up to the IIe.  I learned to code on these computers, and I am forever grateful for that experience because, while I was in reality just coding a program in Basic to make a pixelated dog walk across the screen, it unraveled the mystery of computers for me. I have worked on Macs over the years, and I will admit I was grateful that they were easy to use, because, at the time, I didn't have the time to figure out how to use a PC to accomplish the relatively easy task of writing and printing out a paper.  But nowadays PCs can accomplish anything a Mac can do---and will do it better, faster, for less money, and with less interference from the maker.  This intereference is something I find overwhelmingly intrusive, and I don't understand why more people don't find it to be so. I do not want someone dictating to me what I can and cannot do with my computer. Yes, a PC will come preloaded with a large amount of Microsquash software; yes, it will try to tell me that this is the preferred way of doing something, but, at least with a PC, I have options, which is not something you have with a Mac. I will choose my internet browser.  I will choose my operating system (and, yes, that means I have the ability to stick with XP, because it's incredibly stable, even though Vista has been on the market for years and will shortly be overtaken by Windows 7.).  I will choose how to organize my music, and if I want to put a CD on my computer and my mp.3 player, I don't have to upload it to iTunes, and put it in a format that does not work with the gear I currently own---or want to own, because it limits my choices.  I have the freedom to choose; it would appear as if Apple users don't. 

Of course there are some dog PCs out there.  Believe me, I hear about it every day of the week from the husband.  He claims that eMachines keep him in business, and is currently rethinking his position as a Dell re-seller because he's had so much trouble ordering from them lately. And, yes, they are vulernable to malevolent intrusions.  I'm not denying any of this.  But these concerns aside, the cost of entry is much less with a PC than it is with a Mac; your options, again, are greater as far as what you can do with it, and if there's a better software option available, you'll be able to get it more readily with a PC than a Mac; but most of all, you don't have to buy a boatload of proprietary gear to get the full benefits of modern computing. 

Again, I don't really care about Apple. It's the greater phenomenon associated with the purchase of such a machine that interests me.  I just don't get why people seemingly enjoy having their choices ripped away from them simply because they got hacked one too many times when they owned a PC.  The husband will tell you that, most of the time, if your machine got hacked, or is incredibly slow because it's loaded with spyware, it was, most likely, your own damn fault. You went somewhere on the internet that you knew damn well you shouldn't have gone; you downloaded something that you shouldn't have; you opened an email attachment you shouldn't have; you allowed some nefarious program to make changes to your registry, etc.  Some spyware asks for your permission to work, and you, not really paying attention to whether this would be good or bad, are caught up in the instant gratification and, in a silly fashion, allow the changes.  He's more tactful, of course, when he explains this to his customers, but thems the facts. 

The husband's top two tips for safe surfing are:

1. Do NOT download ANYTHING from sites for kids.  And, yes, this includes sites you see advertised on Nick and Disney programs, because they are loaded with spyware.  He recently had a very satisfying moment when the mom of a pair of twins asked him to lecture these twelve-year-old girls after she'd paid hundreds of dollars for him to clean off their slow-running laptops.  Which had been purchased at the end of the school year. They'd gone nuts at these sorts of sites, downloading this freebie or that game, and had bogged up the works entirely in less than a month. He patiently explained that these games and freebies were put there specifically to put software on their computer to follow them around the internet, to spy on them.  They payed attention when their mother threatened them that if they did it again, and their machines had to go into the shop, the next bill was on them.   

2. This should go without saying, but avoid pr0n, because, again, those sites are loaded with spyware and that's where some of the malicious stuff on the internet resides.  

Safe surfing aside, why is it that people would rather not admit that they were foolish, once upon a time, and learn from the experience, hence making them a wiser user, but would rather switch to a system that doses the pabum in a shiny, easy to use, spoon---having their choices for something that's potentially tastier ripped away from them in the process?  Why would they choose to be used?

It doesn't make much sense to me.

Just in case you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, depend upon me entirely for your news, today, July 20th, is the 40th Anniversary of the moon landing. 

And they did this all with less computing power than is in my cell phone. 

Amazing. 

And for you conspiracy theory nuts who keep insisting that the moon landing never happened, that it was all staged on a set in Burnbank, that flags don't wave on the moon because there's no atmosphere or wind and THAT PROVES IT DEFINITIVELY (even though that was a result of the effin' rocket wash, you dolts!) you should shut your pieholes, definitively, or I'm going to send Buzz Aldrin after you.

Nicely done, Buzz.