Rain in Spain

Okay, I can’t tell whether this is the goods or just another “it’s-close-to-April-1^st” story, but I’ll pass it on anyhow. Last week I learned of an alleged strike by Spain’s “high-class” prostitutes, targeting bankers specifically in what might in high-tech terms be called a Denial of Service (DOS) attack. (Thanks to Roo for passing on the news.)

The UK’s Daily Mail reports that they’re, erm, cutting off the plutocrats until the banks start opening up credit lines for Spaniards who have, as you know, been really hit by the economic turmoil. So far, Snopes hasn’t debunked it, but I can’t find any corroborating report on this, so I’m reserving any serious judgment on any of the stakeholders (as it were).

Now, true or not, this reminds me of Lysistrata. That 2000-year-comedy by Aristophanes tells how the women of the various Greek city states collaborate to end the Peloponnesian War. By basically depriving their men of any what you might call home comforts. Wives, mistresses, prostitutes—they all agree to a pre-emptive DOS attack in this regard.

When the men realize the real cost of the ongoing war, they negotiate peace. Exeunt omnes, as the Bard used to say. I personally find it hysterical—some of the dialog is serious LOL stuff—although, I dunno, maybe men wouldn’t find it quite as entertaining. Sourpusses.

But where I’m really intrigued by the current state of affairs in Spain is the call girls’ targeting bankers. Because in Lysistrata the way the women of Sparta, Athens, Corinth & the other cities first grabbed the minds of their men (preparatory to grabbing their hearts) was by seizing the treasuries. They cut off funds for the fighting. When the soldiers came home to ask “WTF?” they responded, “Um, no—none of that, either.”

(As an aside, Aristophanes stole my story line. I found this out sitting in a poly sci class one summer, kind of drifting, as you do, when the professor described the basic plot. I was incensed, but I guess it’s really a universal kind of story. As another aside, Aristophanes gave us “cloud cuckoo land”, in The Birds. Really—why are they not reviving his plays?)

At any rate, if the Spain sex & money story is true, I give major props to the ladies of the night. & maybe the Occupy movement would like to take a pointer from the classics.

Fool's paradise

April Fool’s Day has been around for, well, kind of ever. But it really does seem as though it’s come into its own as a steam-releasing valve for tech companies (And those ready to grasp the Internet as schtick). This year I give you a few samples:

Google, of course, tops the list. Every year these guys come up with something, last April it was Gmail Motion. But this year’s entry, Gmail Tap, is just super:

I actually twigged to the spoof before “Todd Smith” closed the deal. But one of members of a tech download I subscribe to (who likes to trail a string of initials behind her name) announced that she was considering setting aside Swype for Tap. Until someone else pointed out the date of the "release".

If you’re interested in the full feature set, it’s here.

The goofy Googlers also rolled out an 8-bit Google Maps version for those nostalgic for the Pac-Man days, and a Really Advanced Search function that allows you to seriously specify criteria (including rhyming slang) and to filter by embarrassing grammatical faux pas or font.

(Of course—try any search and you land on a SERP for April Fool’s pranks.)

But, as I said, it’s not just the high-tech corporations capitalizing on the day. Another entry is from the City of Philadelphia. They’re “trialing” a distracted pedestrian lane this week—dedicated sidewalk space for people who text while walking.

I’m sure it’s all to do with the whole Brotherly Love thing.

And then there’s Taco Bell, who've moved way beyond the chihuahua. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the TacoCopter, co-opting drone tech for civilian applications. It’s in “private beta”, in the Bay Area only. 

But a member of another of my tech downloads fell for it, too.

So, mission accomplished.

News of the good, Part 2

You know, I’m heartened by the news that, less than 18 months after her release from house arrest, Aung San Suu Kyi has been elected to the Burmese Parliament. This could mark the beginning of the end of the 50-year-old military dictatorship.

Well, that may be counting one's chickens before the eggs have been laid, but we can hope.

Not Maru, Part 4

I'll close out this posting week with something that doesn't involve anything more than possible feline humiliation with the paw warmers & headband:

Mandela archives

Here’s something by way of antidote to helicopter parents fighting each other over plastic eggs & political wangles over who should have access to the quality of life that decent healthcare coverage brings: Nelson Mandela’s papers have been digitized, & are now (as of Tuesday) available online.

The archive is a joint project of the Google Cultural Institute & the Nelson Mandela Centre of Memory. Letters, photographs, manuscripts, church membership cards videos—all available to anyone with Internet access.

Here’s one, a letter to his daughter, Zeni, from his prison cell; blue ink on ruled paper, dated 1 March 1979, remembering Zeni’s birth:

“Your birth was a great relief to us. Only three months before this, Mummy had spent fifteen days in jail under circumstances that were dangerous for a person in her condition. We did not know what harm might have been done to you and to her health, and were happy indeed to be blessed with a healthy and lovely daughter. Do you understand that you were nearly born in prison? Not many people have had your experience of having been in jail before they were born. You were only 25 months old when I left home and, though I met you frequently thereafter until January 1962 when I left the country for a short period, we never lived together again.”

It’s always amazing to sift through archives, to go to the primary source. To have these materials, on this man, available at the click of a mouse is…well, where I come from, that would be called a real mitzvah.  

Smells like rotten eggs to me...

You know, every time you think you’ve reached the absolute pinnacle of parents behaving badly, you find that you’re only at the base camp & still have 6500 feet to climb.

I’m referring, this time, to the cancellation of this year’s Colorado Springs, Colo., Easter egg hunt primarily because last year there was basically a parental riot.

There was a roped-off area with little plastic eggs scattered over the grass of a local park. But the Lexus Louts apparently swarmed over the ropes to scoop up the bunny booty for little Brittany & Harley.

It’s not like the eggs were hidden—the biggest danger to the little ones would be stepping on the eggs. & it’s not like the eggs had any intrinsic worth—they were stuffed with candies & coupons from local businesses.

It’s all to do with the adults’ unbelievably skewed view of what’s owed to them & their spawn, & their determination to make it happen, regardless of how reprehensible their actions may be or how cringeworthy they look.

I never got that whole “Baby on Board” sign thing—that proclamation that the greater world should somehow cede right-of-way because your Range Rover is transporting a child. It was immediately clear to me that the “baby” involved was behind the wheel.

& now, apparently, they’re spilling out onto the fields of plastic eggs.

I suppose people should feel relieved that they weren’t armed with lacrosse sticks.

Supreme health care

Can I be the only person who finds the juxtaposition over the case currently before the Supreme Court & the news that Dick Cheney had a heart transplant Saturday…well, a little cherce?

I mean—three days of argument around whether all Americans should have access to health care, even if it means government stepping in, versus a 70-year-old guy having no problem getting his health insurance to foot the bill (around $250K for the procedure alone; tens of thousands to follow) for a heart.

Doesn’t it seem like the argument for having universal health care is made by that surgery right there?

I’m leaving aside the issue of why Cheney needs the heart now, since he’s obviously managed to survive 70 years without one.

Whorls & wars

Okay, now I'm starting to wonder about the Discovery Channel franchise's hiring practices. I was surfing the other day and was struck by this caption as I was passing by the Military Channel:

"Worl War II" is certainly in the same sloppy bucket as "Beast of the Bulkens".

Can it be possible that they've off-shored the task of writing up programming information?

Are you feeling lucky still?

As follow-up to the CBS Colonoscopy Sweepstakes story, here’s a piece from NPR: healthcare insurance companies are squawking at paying for anesthesia during the procedure.

No surprise there that carriers are looking for ways to cut costs wherever they can. I’m just wondering if CBS will fork over for the anesthesia if you win the sweepstakes?

Sweet sourdough

One of NPR’s science writers takes on the foundations of making sourdough bread, which makes me think of a couple of things.

I’m a good baker of cakes, pies and cookies, but I’ve never had luck with making bread. (Well—I did manage monkey bread, but it was under someone’s direct tutelage and it was in the last millennium.) I think one of the major issues is the temperature in our kitchen—I just couldn’t get anything to rise.

But back in the 70s, when my dad was an engineer for the Wolf Range company, he studied the science of heat distribution in ovens, and took up bread baking. He got to be quite adept at it, and was making whole-wheat sourdough bread before you could find it anywhere else.

He solved the temperature issue by rigging a 75 watt light bulb in one of the cabinets. It gave off just enough heat to effect the rising of the dough. For him it was an engineering problem.

(He also, after consulting the county agricultural expert, used to bake dirt for potting soil, to get rid of nematodes. But that’s a different story.)

The other thing NPR’s story reminds me of is the advantage of living in California—there’s almost no restaurant that won’t give you the option of sourdough toast with breakfast. They have varying degrees of sourness, of course, but it’s really nice to have that tooth enamel-cleaning sensation of chewy sourdough toast.

Yum.