"Epic" Battle

The Hawks came to town tonight. And that was the good news.

It started out rough: I made myself a lovely roasted beet, pear, and wilted dandelion salad, but in roasting the beets, I got in the wife's way and she didn't get to make her dinner (a good source of vitamin A, four essential B-vitamins, iron, and fiber) and eat it until pretty close to game time. Though honestly, getting to the game a few minutes late and missing whatever Arizona Idol reject was going to be singing the anthem wouldn't kill either of us. We have low tolerances for shrieking.

So we hit the road about 25 minutes before tipoff. That's not bad at all. We can zip down the 51 and get parked in our primo lot in time for Ced to command us to "stand up, Stand UP and MAKE SOME NOISE!" I'm driving the batmobile, so I can make up a few minutes with no effort whatsoev...

...what the hell?

Multi-car rollover accident. Traffic's backed up for three miles and shunted off to surface streets. This would have been an awesome thing for the DOT or Highway Patrol to have indicated at the entrances and exits prior to the long span from which there is no escape. I just hope none of the people in traffic had anywhere important to go. We obviously didn't.¹

We finally get off the highway - by the way, kudos to the coppers for pulling over the scofflaws driving in the shoulder. ALL of them got yanked and ticketed from what we saw. A few miles on surface streets, back to the 51, and with no traffic we just cruise on down. A little trouble at our parking lot since we're now almost an hour late, but we get to block partially one of the exits (we'll have to leave the game a few minutes early so as not to be cuh-rushed) and go into the arena.

There's about five minutes left in the half at this point and the Suns look like crap. They're not communicating, not paying attention to each other, and not crashing the offensive glass at all. That's not a huge problem when you're hitting your shots, but tonight, not so much.

Pat Burke played 8:57 in this game and it wasn't close, if that gives any indication of how dire were the straits. It's fun and all to root for the lad, just like Paul Shirley sightings were always welcome, but in a game like this, I could do without the burking from his sloppy passes and poor decisions.

For a stretch in the third, things were looking up. Then they weren't. Simple as that. Basketball is a game of runs, and the Suns just didn't have enough runs in them tonight to match the boys from the ATL.

Of course, Iliad and Odyssey² in the seats behind us whined about every officiating "slight" and "bad" call. I saw only two bad calls (one actually seemed to be correct, but it was made in an odd way) while we were there, but I'm not quite that blinded by fandom. It helps that I'm an interested, though not passionate fan of the team.

So, an adequate evening of entertainment, preceded by a tasty dinner and shitty drive. A normal Friday night in PHX.

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¹ No. I don't feel bad for the injured/dead. I'm a cold-hearted bastard. It takes really high-level incompetence to roll a car on a dry, straight road, and I'd rather that trait not be passed on to future generations of drivers. If that sentiment, from me, is a shock...you must be new.
² (In best Dennis Miller voice): a couple of Homers

Ready, Aim, Fire!

This would probably have been a quicker way for Lisa Nowak to get to the FLA.

Is that a...penis in your pocket?

Here's an interesting paper on disfluency and a quick rundown by Chris at the Mixing Memory blog.

Everyday speech is littered with disfluency, often correlated with the production of less predictable words (e.g., Beattie & Butterworth, 1979). But what are the effects of disfluency on listeners? In an ERP experiment which compared fluent to disfluent utterances, we established an N400 effect for unpredictable compared to predictable words. This effect, reflecting the difference in ease of integrating words into their contexts, was reduced in cases where the target words were preceded by a hesitation marked by the word er. Moreover, a subsequent recognition memory test showed that words preceded by disfluency were more likely to be remembered. The study demonstrates that hesitation affects the way in which listeners process spoken language, and that these changes are associated with longer-term consequences for the representation of the message.

Chris closes his summary by wondering about the effects and role of disfluency in comedy, which is exactly what I was thinking while reading about the study. I can think of three ways this comes into play in comic delivery.

1. Exaggerating disfluency before an unpredictable word. This is the most common usage, where an unexpected twist comes at the end of the joke. An extended pause lets the clever listener know something is coming.
2. The opposite of above, specifically avoiding disfluency before an unpredictable word. This is a stylistic choice which works well for deadpan comics. The listener is always running 400ms behind the comedian, but if she's good, the delayed laughter doesn't effect her setup of the subsequent joke.
   
3. Intentionally using disfluency before predictable words. Pausing or "um"-ing sets up the tension; the mundane word causes the release. This isn't good for a big laugh, but creates a little listener anxiety which can be exploited through repetition and then a quick switch. Think of this like a meta-variation on a normal joke's pattern, where the twist at the end - a full joke unto itself - also varies because of the odd deliveries that preceded it.

BSG Series Finale

I can't really go into a lot of details, but I recently had a chance to read a copy of the scripts for the final two episodes of BSG. It's conceived as a two-part series finale, which Ron Moore penned himself around the time they went into production on season one. He may not have had a detailed five-year plan like JMS did with B5, but I like that he always knew where he was going.

I couldn't take the scripts with me, and didn't have all that much time, but I was able to commit the final scene to memory. Obviously, these are massive spoilers.

To give you a little context, in the penultimate episode, the fleet follows the final two signposts to Earth. First, they end up at (I think) Proxima Centauri and a barren planet the fleet originally mistakes for Earth. They realize their error and find the final clue to Earth's location. In the final scene of the episode, Sharon's Raptor jumps behind the moon. Just as she's about to leave in frustration, she sees Earthrise.

In the finale, Roslin and Adama decide that Earth's not ready to know the truth yet, so they're going to assimilate into the culture, quickly advance our scientific and technological knowledge, and then make themselves known. The goal is to prepare Earth for the coming of the Cylons without causing widespread panic. Colonists are provided forged documents and are surreptitiously ferried to the surface. The fleet is left outside the solar system, and one Raptor is secreted in a cave.

Here's the final scene:

* * *

EXT. SPACEPORT - DAY

Title: Twenty Years Later

SLOW PAN AND ZOOM FROM LONG TO MEDIUM SHOT, FINALLY SETTLING ON A SMALL, OLD FAST FOOD RESTAURANT SITTING AT THE EDGE OF THE SPACEPORT, IT'S WHITE BLOCKY EXTERIOR FAMILIAR TO MILLIONS.

CUT TO:

INT. WHITE CASTLE - DAY

ADAMA, NOW A VERY OLD MAN, SITS ALONE AT A TABLE, FOOD IN FRONT OF HIM. THE DOOR OPENS AND A FIGURE IS SILHOUETTED IN THE SUNRISE. ADAMA LOOKS UP TO SEE NEIL PATRICK HARRIS WHO SEES ADAMA AND WALKS TOWARD HIM, SMILING.

NEIL
Admiral Adama. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

ADAMA
Do I know you?

NEIL
No, but I know you.

ADAMA
Son, I'm just trying to enjoy my breakfast. Can I help you with something?

NEIL
I am God.

ADAMA
Excuse me?

NEIL
I am God. (BEAT) I was the first sentient Cylon.

ADAMA TRIES TO RISE BUT NPH PUTS A HAND ON HIS SHOULDER AND GENTLY PUSHES HIM DOWN

ADAMA
We've prepared these people for you. You won't take Earth with a surprise attack the same way you destroyed our homes. There is no Balthar here to betray us.

NEIL
I'm not here to destroy you, Adama.

ADAMA
Then why are you here?

NEIL
I'm here to apologize. And to buy you breakfast.

ADAMA
Apologize?! You destroyed our homes, killed our families, and chased us across the galaxy. And now you want to apologize?

NEIL
Yeah, it was a dick move on my part. That's why I'm paying for your meal.

FADE TO BLACK

Krispy Dreme

Crisp, sticky sweet clouds
Dream stuff from betwixt the stars
Cast off, abandoned

Sir Bob Speaks Truth

You sing it, Pink!

MySpace-ial Friend

So I very, very, very rarely touch MySpace. I have a few younger friends with their cellular telephones and social networks and rock 'n' roll music, so I created a profile on Rupert's Romper Room a while back. It's empty, mind you. No photo, no blog entries, no content, and until today only "Tom" the doofy default friend (the jackhole who made bank when he sold this site to Rupes.) I'd not checked out my page or anyone else's in months, and thought I'd take a look today.

I had an invitation from my friend Tom-tombalina, a lot of messages from deleted profiles (spam) and one that was still in my inbox. Remember...no photos, no videos, no content whatsoever, just the most basic profile information, like city and date of birth...

How's it goin? I'm Kristy, I just moved to the Phoenix area and I wanna meet a nice guy around here :-). I moved here to Arizona a couple of weeks ago for work and now that I'm here I have nobody to hang out with! I read your profile... You're cute and I liked what you had to say :-).

I'm 24/F/single and I'm lookin for a guy who is a little bit older or more mature than me. You say you're 38 and you're cute so I guess you're qualified :-)

My friend Jen from back home suggested I tried using myspace to meet people in my area. I just signed up and my profile sux hehe. I do have a blog/profile page at ThisGirlfriend.com ... I have alot of photos and stuff up if you wanna see me.

I left you a personal msg on my homepage and I took a new pic for you today. Come check me out when you have a chance, k?

Lookin forward to seeyin ya,
Kristy

Ai-ight. Props to Kristy for seeing how damn cute I look in that photo above. It's not my good side. I'm also really happy I was able to touch her with the things I had to say, like "" and "". I feel really special to be singled out like this. Forgive me for gushing so much!

Joss off Wonder Woman

This is sad, sad news on two fronts. A marquee, tent pole movie would have been a great notch in Joss' belt. And Cobie as WW?^* That's off the freakin' hook. Sure, it's not Charisma or Morena (my first and second choices) but Robin Sparkles woulda rocked the Star Spangled hot pants.

There is one good thing, though. Now, I don't have to waste time seeing a movie about a character I just don't like. The only reason I'd have gone - and on opening night - was Joss. Now, I can just keep hoping that Kevin Smith gets to do a Lantern flick someday.

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^* I assume Joss was kidding...or maybe he was serious...hard telling.

The Digital Revolution Will Be Televised, But Who'll Get Paid?

John Rogers wants residuals, damn it! Support the writers if they do strike; they're the ones creating the films and tv shows you like, not the suits. The suits? They're the ones who revived Howie Mandel's corpse and think if it's animated it must be good.

Don't skip the comments on the Rogers' post. Ensign Crusher weighs in with a great story about negotiating with the craven suits on ST:TNG.

Blogger comment workaround

There's a Blogger error with what appears to be URL rewriting/redirecting right now that's affecting some blogs (not all) where users can't get to comments. I've stopped it from popping into a new window for now to make the workaround easy. Just change the host from "www" to "www2" on the page that fails and you'll be able to post.

I assume this will be resolved anon.

Suns, Spurs, Sleep Deprivation!

Yah, I haven't gone to bed yet. This game's just too good to stop watching. I'm glad I won't be getting home at midnight, but there's no way I'd turn off a heavyweight fight like this 'un.

And please, allow me to say Manu Ginobli is the dirtiest feckin' baller since John Stockton hung up his shoes. In fact, I'm going to go out on a limb here...Manu's worse. Stockton, he'd grab and bump and grind and hit ya, sure. Manu, well...did anyone see the knee to Amare's tender vittles?!?!?

Expecting Managementations

I rolled into the office this morning at just past 5:30. That's depressing on many, many levels of course: I'm not currently sitting in my seat at AWA watching the Suns-Spurs game, but watching at home; I'm thoroughly exhausted and should be calling it a night any minute now (likely before 10;) and obviously, I was in so early that "lunch" was breakfast at 9am.

Why, one may wonder - knowing how uncritical my current job is and how few and rare are our deadlines - did I make such an early day of it? Outsourced labor.

We had a mid-level engineer who worked on one project for one year before ditching. While he needs a lot of seasoning before he'll be senior, he's responsible enough to have finished his project. Finished it, then hit the door. The only thing that happened faster than him bolting was the company shelving his work, all so we could pay money to another company to develop the same thing for us.

Again, I hear the cries of "why"? Those cries aren't coming from software professionals, however. We know better. And for those of you at software companies...you should try out doing in-house IT for a tech-wary, tech-phobic company sometime. That's a whole other level of pain.

The best way to describe the experience of being a software engineer at any company not run by other engineers is to compare it to working in Hollywood. Writer writes, actor acts, director directs. Then, there's the development execs and produers. They "give notes". They have a cousin who's "just super talented and should get an audition". They focus group and do market analysis. In other words, they're parasites riding on the backs of the talent, who muck with the product, and blame the creators when it all goes awry.¹

In our case, it was a cousin (actually, a friend.)

So I get to the office at 5:30 to run one of the final steps required to go live (because they weren't ready on Wednesday when they were scheduled to be.) I had worried that it would take a few hours, since I was estimating 10-15 seconds for each call to their webservice. In fact, the processing was done in less than five minutes! Woo-hoo! Three hours later, after I'd finally finished analyzing the errors (about 10 percent of the data load failed, living up to my usual quality guarantee of Five Eights Reliability²) we started the conversation with the vendor to figure out what problems they were having.

Besides the fact that they didn't understand the requirements, failed to meet their deadlines, and continue to have a ton of problems, it's going great!

So far, nothing has surprised me. We knew they'd blow their deadline, knew they weren't clear on the requirements, and knew they weren't going to be able to support our data. By "we", of course I mean IT, not management. If these people were in LA, they'd just be asking me to "raise the stakes" and "make Jenna more likable". It could be worse. They could be my old boss Tim. I don't have the energy to open that can of worms. I'll just close with this simulated tasklist from that job:

• Go to store; get milk
• Go to moon; get rocks
• Eat lunch
• Solve world hunger

Note: I've thought about what I've written here - stream of consciousness fluff - and I think there's a decent essay comparing software to film/telly craft that could be written. If I have some time and energy this weekend (and I'm not busy with more interesting/fun writing) I might expand and expound. If anyone has any thoughts, comments, suggestions, or criticisms of the comparison, please comment here or email them to me. I know that this posting isn't super-coherent or cohesive, so criticisms like that aren't strictly necessary, thank you Mr. Guitar Man.

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¹ For those who know where my passion lies (and how much I hate software) you might find it odd that I want a job in an industry where I'd have to deal with such similar problems. I can only conclude that I'm so accustomed to the crap associated with my job that I'd miss it if I didn't have management getting in the way of quality.
² I should trademark that phrase before Steve Ballmer appropriates it to describe Vista.

But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game

I found out today that someone who works in my department believes Barack Obama is the anti-Christ. I don't mean in the right-wing "that guy's slick and charismatic and could take the Presidency back for the damn lib'rals" way. I mean in the "Kirk Cameron's our only hope, the rapture is coming! the rapture is coming!" way.

Oy.

Now to me, this is similar to saying Barack Obama keeps a baby dragon locked in his basement and drinks a potion of ground unicorn horn and fairy dust at each new moon. Ie: if someone says it, I think he needs medication and restraints. Unfortunately, while belief in fairies and unicorns is considered "crazy", belief that Lucifer will rise from the fiery depths of Hell to walk the Earth before the rapture is considered "christian". At least, a lot of evangelicals think so.

I know that not all xtians believe in Revelations as anything other than metaphor. I know that some even read John's rantings as contemporary (Rome, 1st century, not America, 21st) political commentary disguised as apocalyptic prophesy. Still, there are too many who think "Left Behind" is the Zagat's for the endtimes. What makes people think this way?

I really had hoped millennial fever's grip on the nation would be weakened after yet another millennium came and went without horsemen and blaring horns in the sky and shit. I guess there's always another sign and portent around the corner, though. Ooh, maybe it's the upcoming end of the 13th baktun!!!

I'm a dick, I know. I've got no respect for people and their primitive belief systems, whether inscribed 2K years ago or cobbled together during an acid flashback in '69.

Writing more, writing less

I started blogging as a means of forcing myself to write something at least a few times a week. It's been pretty helpful for that, if nothing else. I've found myself lately actually putting in the hours on the longer pieces on which I'd been procrastinating for months (years, really) so I've had a little less time and inclination to post here. If I'm doing one or two productive hours a day on what I really need to write, I don't always make myself update here. Partly because I've achieved my short-term goal of daily writing, and partly because I start to feel guilty about taking time away from something more "substantial".

Well, I'm pretty immune to all forms of guilt (having a Jewish mother can work in two ways, the latter of which applies to me: it can habituate you to guilt, making you anxious your whole life; or it can inoculate you;) however, I'm still subject to pangs of self-guilt.^* I was having a very productive evening writing what I need to get done until I hit a small stumbling block. I stared at the screen for about 15 minutes but couldn't figure out which of two obvious ways to solve my problem. I finally gave up. I hope tomorrow, a magical third way will present itself so I can leave in the joke I want without screwing up the structure I need. We'll see.

Anyway, I'm still feeling write-y (like chatty, but t'ain't no one respondin'. I should be going to bed so I can get up at a decent hour and walk Parker. Not to mention prepping some food for the week and getting back to writing...instead, I let my self-guilt about ignoring this doofy journal get the better of me. So I'm rambling. And about that endpoint, that the footnote indicates I might asymptotically approach? I have no idea where I should stop this entr

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^*That sentence is a bit sketchy with the nested appositives and subclauses, but while it may be painful to scan, I believe it can be parsed. That doesn't make it any less nasty, but I'm about 80% confident it wouldn't get a prescriptive grammarian's panties all bunchy. Why did I feel a need to write it that way? And why do I feel compelled to defend/discuss it? Uh, you've read the crap I write before, right? That's just the kind of weenie I am. Sometimes, and tonight is one of those times, I start writing and can't really find a good stopping point. See main text above where I elaborate on that point. Hmm...my footnote's back-referencing the main text? Now that's just frickin' weird. Even for me.

Hey, this isn't the cockpit!