Sign of the Times

‘Kay, there’s plenty of news to talk about, but this just stopped me cold. I saw that Farrah Fawcett lost her battle with cancer, so I went to her hometown paper to see what they had to say.

Imagine my, well, surprise at finding what the LA Times thinks is good (or even appropriate) context-generated advertising. (I’ve highlighted the relevant offenders in yellow.)

In case you’re unable to see in this rendering, I’ve cut out the offenders for separate viewing:

As if the text ads weren't bad enough, we also have:

What you can’t see here is the changes in the caskets that are displayed, so there is this constant neon-light-like flashing in your line of vision.

I understand there’s an algorithm that matches ads with content, but you’d think there’d be some adult supervision in the equation somewhere.

Evidently you’d be wrong.

Jabberwocky

One of the first books I unpacked in my recent move was my copy of The Annotated Alice, which comprises Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. So I reread them both.

I used to say of my previous employer that I’d fallen down the rabbit hole, but I admit that where I am now is definitely looking-glass world. Everything is distorted, nothing is as it seems, in order to get somewhere you must go in the opposite direction, and the shortest distance between two points is never a straight line.

In fact, there may not be a connection at all between the two points, so you’d better not set your heart on that.

I’m working on a product that’s been in “development” since March and the configuration of v1 still hasn’t been anointed.

That’s because we’re still taking guesses at who the target market is and what use they might get out of this.

(And, no—that’s not how you’re supposed to build new applications. But this only came up because management made a deal with a data source and then we had to dream up something to use the data on.)

Unsurprisingly, launch date keeps being pushed out quarter by quarter.

I have to say that knowing things aren’t going to make any sense doesn’t make it particularly easier to navigate the landscape, but there it is. A slithy tove is a slithy tove, wherever you encounter it.

The writing on the wall

Oh, no—another American icon is biting the dust. Eastman Kodak is discontinuing Kodachrome.

Kodachrome is a wonderful slide film—if you were shooting anything with warm tones, from fall foliage to kids’ birthday parties, Kodachrome gave you an edge. (If you were going after blue-green landscapes, you went for Ektachrome, a lesson I learned the hard way. But at least I learned it early.)

I’ve shot hundreds of rolls of this luscious stuff. I went through at least 20 in a single two-week trip to the battlefields of France. Another 10-15 at Renaissance Pleasure Fayres over the years. I started shooting it on my old Nikon rangefinder—where I had to use an external light meter to set the shutter & aperture. (If you wonder where the title & URL for this blog originated, just think about it.) Those photos have held up well through the years, too.

I loved looking at the slides through the viewer or on a light table—just for the colors. It’s entirely different from viewing thumbnails on a monitor. There’s something big time about sorting slides on a light table that I miss. Over time, I’ve whittled down my collection to a mere handful, but the ones left are definitely old friends, & they haven’t faded in the least.

I’ll confess that I have played my own part in Kodachrome’s demise. About the time I moved to the UK & I realized processing slides was going to be a pain, I switched to color negative film. & to Fuji, because I liked the depth of colors better than the Kodak products.

(Also, Fuji 35mm canisters are great for pill bottles—unlike the black & grey Kodak ones, they’re translucent, so you can tell if you’ve got the ibuprofen or the Zyrtec in a particular container.)

Then when it became damned near impossible to find it in the ASA 100 speed film (giving you room to slow the shutter & get some motion effects), I started eying digital cameras. So while I used to schlep through Europe with three cameras (one for color, one for B&W & one for quick snaps), I now just have a digital point-&-shoot & a digital SLR. I joined the Dark Side.

During this last move, I hauled the plastic bag of film from one refrigerator crisper box to another. I suppose I should have some sort of Viking funeral for the stuff. (What I’ll do with the six or so film 35mm cameras, I don’t know. I haven’t reached the point where I can bear to part with any of them because of the partnership we’ve had ever since I was in high school.) Perhaps I should just make some sort of objets-trouvés art piece out of the boxes & rolls.

But it’s the end of an era, so join Paul & me in a chorus:

Time, gentlemen

Oh, my fur & whiskers—Eric Felten is hanging up his booze spurs.

Even though he thinks Laphroaig is fit for anything but cleaning out your crankcase, & that vodka is fit for nothing but cleaning out your crankcase, he’s always come up with interesting stuff about spirits & cocktails.

(I did have a Lemon Drop once; the folks at the booth next to ours at a high-tech trade show were offering “martinis” & cookies, & on my last day of booth duty I opted for the Lemon Drop. It was something Hercule Poirot would have enjoyed.)

Seems he’s moving on to American culture as a whole. Although I’d think you’d get a pretty good grasp on that from a bar stool.

He says he’ll still write the occasional drinks column, but it’s going to be a long, dry summer.

Swedish puzzles

I swear—moving hell just never ends.

I bought an IKEA six-drawer dresser a few weeks ago—I figured I might as well let the movers schlep it up to the third floor in flat packs and I’d put it together after I got in.

Well, that was the plan, anyhow.

I got the frame set up, finally. But when time came to assemble the drawers, I just lost the plot. And IKEA’s text-less “instructions” are about as much help as a chocolate teapot.

I’m just flummoxed. The bottom of the drawers doesn’t actually attach to anything. It slides into a groove at the front & back and that’s somehow supposed to keep it from sagging when you put all your socks in there. Then there are these white plastic screw-like things you’re supposed to somehow get into the sides and rear pieces. They’re screw-like, but there’s no slot or hatch on the head to insert a screwdriver.

And the text-less instructions only tell you you’ll need Phillips and slot screwdrivers and a hammer for the whole project. The particular picture just shows the screw-like things going magically into the holes.

I guess I’m going to have to make a run down to IKEA to see this thing on the hoof and try to extrapolate how I make it happen.

Meanwhile I have a bedroom full of IKEA pieces.

Deep joy.