Encounters with Stupidity

What to do, as each day brings news of our crumbling Republic? And the rise of our new dictator, President Obama? Better to light a candle than curse the darkness, but what candle and how? I think many people are silent. The silent majority. They have jobs and families; they are trying to build their lives and essentially want to be left alone to prosper. Now some of these people are attending rallies - tea parties - to protest government spending, or our slide toward socialism. Or something. This outpouring of outrage needs to find a backbone; it needs to rest on some animating principles. Otherwise it's just frustration. Much of our recent history has lined up to deliver a fertile bed for a quick and dramatic move to the left, and Obama has seized many of the opportunities available to him. We have accepted government intrusion into economics; now we have more, but it's more of the same. Bush delivered an $800 billion package and all the democrats had to do was double or triple or quadruple it. Not a question of new ideas, just more government, more bailouts and more handouts. We accept government education for our children. Now we'll get a government-funded youth corps. And continuing pressure on the opposition, be it conservative talk radio (Fairness Doctrine) or "right-wing groups". More paving of the road, more laying of the bricks of a certain way of thinking -- a fascist way of thinking. Things not said clearly, but implied. These right-wing groups might be dangerous. Cast a pall over the entire right wing. Increase federal, state and local police attention on these groups. Never mind if they have actually commited any crimes, or have any truly criminal intent. For now, the opposition can speak. The world has an unprecedented level of free speech. Even China cannot stop its bloggers... but that's because it is losing the moral authority to do so. Thankfully, there is not just a single candle to fight off the growing darkness. I will be founding a new blog with a new name, and I will be dedicating it to the fight for preserving our natural rights to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Property.

The November 2006 Scientific American reports the results of a test conducted with psilocybin, the active ingredient of so-called magic mushrooms. In the double-blind controlled study, 36 volunteers took the drug, and 24 rated the subsequent experience as "among the most meaningful of their lives, comparing it with the birth of a first child of the death of a parent".

Charles Schuster (Wayne State University) is quoted in the article as saying: "Animals will take all the drugs that humans abuse, but they do not self-inject... psychedelics. This is a uniquely human phenomenon." I think this reflects on how fundamentally different humans are from most animals. We operate without instincts and therefore must change the world around us to suit our needs. We are the only organisms that do this to a major degree. I find it very telling that we appear to be the only animals that enjoy--or at least voluntarily endure--the effects of psychedelic drugs.

My advisor - who is from Canada - compares Tucson summer to arctic winter. You don't go outside. Today is supposed to be 107 F. Last week I was in the midwest for a wedding and family visitation. When I arrived back in Tucson and walked out of the airport doors, I felt the blast of heat, but it wasn't so bad. That's the way one feels for the first day or two of the heat. It's something new; maybe even a "nice change" from 75 degrees and 90% humidity. But the heat gets to you. It comes in through the cracks along the window panes and the gap below the door. It comes right through the brick walls that stay warm from the sun all night. It keeps you up, tossing and turning and sweating under a thin sheet as the A/C cranks along all night. In the morning the sun meets you with relentless, pounding intensity. Shield your eyes and your face. Scurry to the shade from the nearest trees. Feel each individual UV ray penetrating your skin and shredding your DNA. Get in the car and bake in the 170 F sauna until you run the A/C for a few minutes. Still, be careful of the steering wheel which could burn your hands for minutes to come. There is no escape except for a few moments in a cool shower or a pool, if you have access to one. As summer wears on, drags on, burns on, the temperature of tap water rises until even the "cool" shower loses it's appeal. It's a bummer to be trapped inside, but really the heat is just an excuse for interior activities, much like a rainy day in other climes. "Save up for a 105 degree day" should be the phrase in Tucson. Still, a couple 105 degree days aren't too bad if punctuated by cool nights or a few days of 90's. As I turn my geographic gaze to other locales, trying to decide where I might want to live after Tucson, I consider places with slightly less heat. Salt Lake, southern Utah, much of Nevada. Yeah, they hit 100 F, but it isn't the same when it's a day or two at a time. Then it's a rainy day and not monsoon season. Despite all this complaining, my fifth summer in Tucson isn't as bad as any of the others. But it is still only mid-June. Summer in Tucson really begins to drag sometime in late September or October when the rains are gone and temps are still touching 100 F and the A/C is still humming late into the night, sucking money from your paychecks. Summer is a psychological phenomenon - it's nature-derived torture - and it takes months to sink in and start really getting you down. As your insulation erodes the heat penetrates dangerously close to the core of your being. One advantage of summer - like those rainy days - is that it provides time to dream of outdoor adventures you can't do because of the heat. Of course, winter in Tucson has a disadvantage too - it can be downright cold. Then you can dream of the toasty summers...

This is one of my all-time favorite photos (above!). It's of the southern Galiuros, the range to the East of the Catalina-Rincons N, NE, and E of Tucson. This was last year, when I actually went outside. Sabkha and I haven't been hiking in a long time.

Lately I work late into the night using the Almega XR, an enclosed Raman spectroscopy system.


Weekends are a good time to use the instrument since other lab people tend not to be here on weekends. The UA semester is over, and with it ends my last class ever. I needed one more credit for the ole PhD.
I got a new computer when Dell had a 40% sale on desktops. Gotapex seems to be a front-page for Dell with their current short-run specials. If you're patient you can find good deals.

I'm happy with the Dell (Dimension E510). It has a Pentium D 820 2.8 GHz (D for dual core) and 2 GB of RAM, but it doesn't seem much faster than my 2.5-year-old Dimension with a non-HT 2.8 P4 and 1.25 GB RAM (visible on the floor below my desk). I have a dual-drive RAID which is nice... automatic backup. Part of the second drive is partitioned for manual backups. Main complaint: noisy, hissy headphone jack.

My Raleigh has recently found a new life as a single speed. I bought it in '94 or '95 as a "retro" road bike with all Campy Record parts, down-tube shifters and the like. It was a relic even then. According to a not-friendly guy I met on RAGBRAI (why go if you aren't friendly?), the bike was new in 1985 or 86 (he was riding the exact same model, sofaras I could tell). The frame is beat up, but still pretty (beausage). It's cherry-ish red, with 1/2 chromed fork. Nice normal pointy lugs (what! but lugs aren't normal!). The Raleigh has long been my freak bike. After buying it I stripped off all the parts, most of which ended up on a Trek road bike I gave to Kerrie. Later the bike got build up with top-mounts used as bar-ends, and a mix-match of parts, including the Evil Brooks B.17 from Rhino that gave my such ass pain on RAGBRAI. More recently I took the cassette off the old Ultegra-Mavic wheels and unscrewed it (not riveted) and put on some spacers and made it a single speed. That's all the craze now, sure, but I'm not doing it to keep up with Modern Bicycling Trends. I'm doing it for fun. It's fun to have different bikes with different handlebars, gears and geometry. My first gearing attempt created a heinous 46x15 or something. That sounds easy for flat paceline tailwind downhill crusing. But try starting from a stop sign with a bagful-o'-stuff on your back, with a pickup approaching from the side because you're going too slow through the intersection. So I backed off, gearing-wise, to a 32x17? It's nice, a bit on the hard side but that lets me go fast on the way home from school. Other features. I put on Nitto Moustache Bars, acquired in the old Bridgestone days. I wrapped 'em in white cork tape and on that put about 3 coats of orangey-brown shellac. It looks pretty good, despite my poor taping job. The M'tache bars plus the 29 cm (?) Cinelli stem make for a stretched-out cockpit, but it's not as bad as you'd think. Wow that stem is long (but not 29 cm...). So now my Raleigh is my preferred bike for riding to work! It's smooth and quiet (except for the 1 bpr (beat per revolution) that I think is coming from the bottom bracket). I bought some tyres from Specialized -- I'm in love with Armadillos (the tyres). I got 38 c's and they're HUGE! But -- here's the amazing part -- they still fit on the Raleigh, even with the stock Campy Record sidepulls! Wow! My newest bike, a Schwinn middlin' roadie, has 25c Armadillos and the clearance is whisker-thin. Holy cow! Not much clearance. Isn't it nice to be able to put 38c's on a racy road bike?

Have you noticed that forest rangers are becoming more militant in their enforcement of minor infractions? Last weekend at the Empire Ranch Score-O, the Tucson Orienteering Club was fined about $120 because one of the meet directors forgot to bring the event permit. Um, why do we even need a permit? One of the laughable truths about public land: it's not really public, and you can't really do what you want, even if it isn't hurting anyone else. I'm against public land "ownership" -- and this is just one example of what goes wrong when land is in the commons. Everyone wants to use it for widely varying purposes, most of which are not mutually exclusive, but many of which are perceived to be mutually exclusive. In the end, the group with the most money and/or political pull usually gets their way. And the groups who get beat up the most in the mainstream media (e.g., dog owners, quad riders, shooters) get screwed. Back to the militant rangers. Maybe it can be expected in southern AZ what with all the illegal immigrant and such, right? Well, isn't that primarily the job of the Border Patrol? On that note, during my 2-hour Score-O competition, I got ogled by a BP agent. I crossed a dirt road and headed up a hillside looking for control #30. About 300 meters off the road I hear something behind me, turned and saw a BP pickup checkin' me out. Yep, I looked pretty border-crosser-esque with my Tilley hat, blue gaiters with Ex Officio khaki shorts, and medium black dog on a retractable flexi-leash... I still haven't gotten to those militant rangers, though. A few years ago I was in Eugene, OR and went up to Cougar Hot Springs (?) with a few friends who will remain unnamed (not nameless, because they do have names). They went up to the springs (maybe 1/2 mile from parking area?) and I hung around the vehicle and walked up the road a bit. A ranger came and waited for friends to return and ticketed them (we didn't pay the parking fee). Ok, I'm in favor of user fees if we have public lands. We should've paid. But this guy got militant when he tried to ticket me, for sitting in the parking lot. Um, ok... I didn't get a ticket, but the guy was a real ass about the whole thing. He ruined the whole experience, and the whole point of having public lands to "enjoy". Also, isn't there something more important to do? It seems like the most resources get allocated to some of the smallest problems. Thank goodness that most government land-management agencies (Nat Forest Service, BLM) are so underfunded they can't do much law enforcement. However, NPS may be an exception. I've already noted that law enforcement in popular National Parks is wayyy higher on a per-capita basis than outside the parks. "Welcome to your national park, where you're very likely to get busted for speeding and possession of anything illegal! Most of your rights are stripped away here!" Another unnamed friend (who knows) says that NPS rangers look for "natural products" in vehicles at trailheads, especially certain types of vehicles with certain types of stickers (I'm guessing Grateful Dead, Phish and the ilk). So if you've got some natural leafy substance, don't have other natural products (e.g. pinecones, rocks) on display in your car in a National Park. Also, it's a good idea to have NO stickers on your car.

I get a kick out of throwing things away. (And don’t tell me the landfills are almost full. They aren’t, we’ve got tons of space, and trash compaction methods are getting better, blah blah. In the future it will make more economic sense to reuse more stuff. Then we will.) When the stuff is actually removed from my property I imagine the land rebounding like after the glaciers melted away from the Midwest. Some areas are still rising at rates up to ~1 cm per year. That doesn’t really happen here, on a scale as small as one house. But less junk means less to worry about, store, clean, and pack next time I move. Somehow I’ve accumulated about five containers of hand soap. Gradually I’m using them up, beginning with the emptiest one first. When gone I get to toss the container and remove those 75 grams from my life. Constant readers of Encounters with Stupidity will remember one of the first entries, where I discussed the dissolution of a tenacious bar of soap. Now I’m working on the replacement of that bar, a scented bar I bought in Cyprus. Behind it are a still-wrapped bar of Lava soap (79 cents at Fry’s, I couldn’t resist) and a lovely Chamomile-scented bar from Body Works that I got from Erik and Sara as a thank-you for watching their dogs. I fret that I won’t be able to use up both bars and the five hand soap bottles before I move on next year, but I'm going at full speed, sometimes washing my hands twice just to use more soap.

How many different substances go into the trash? Every time I toss something, I think about how many compounds it contains. I like to get as many different chemicals as possible into the trash. Right now there are various types of plastic, eight or ten different minerals (from some gravel I had in the cuffs of my pants), plant material, thorns from Sabkha’s fur, fur, various foodstuffs...

On another subject:

Do Americans ever learn to spell? I’ve been browsing around on some online dating sites, and I’m appalled. Not by the pictures – by the writing. If you are going to introduce yourself with a 400-word write-up, don’t you think you’d at least use spell check? Or consult a dictionary? Or go back to third grade and learn to spell? And it’s not tough words like “piece” or “misspelled”. Those give me trouble too. The problem is, I don’t think people ever learn. One of the symptoms of our failed government-run (aka “public”) schools.

If you resent the big bite our various governments take out of the money you make, you’re probably interested in living below the radar. Government, like most idiotic and half-blind hunters, tends to go after the biggest and easiest targets. If most Americans have something or want to do something, expect those somethings to be most heavily taxed. The big two somethings most people have are vehicles and homes. No surprise that from these two things spring forth most property taxes. To avoid property tax you could try to avoid owning property, at least in the forms of homes or cars. Unfortunately, in most of the USA it’s unrealistic to go without a car. Some people can do it in San Francisco or NYC, but elsewhere you’ll need a car to get anywhere interesting. You can, however, live without a house. And you can dodge most car taxes too. Here’s how to live below the tax radar:

1. Drive a used car. In most states, your annual car tax (aka “license plate registration”) varies greatly depending on the age of your vehicle. In Arizona, a new $25,000 car costs about $500 a year to register. A 10-year-old car is around $40. Another Arizona bonus: you don’t pay sales tax on person vehicle transactions. Time to hit the classified ads. Another advantage of a used car: ditch the comprehensive insurance and save hundreds every year. If you car is worth $3000, it’s probably silly to pay $300-600 a year to protect it from theft and collision. Stash that money in the bank, earn interest, drive safe, use a steering wheel lock, and “self-insure” for collision/comprehensive. (Not liability. Get that. Keep it.) Live with door dings. If your car does get stolen, tap into the money you socked away. You’re likely to come out ahead in the long run.
2. Don’t own a house. Conventional wisdom says that owning a house is smarter than renting. If you rent, you’re “throwing your money away”. But keep in mind that paying a mortgage is also “throwing your money away” – to the bank instead of the landlord. It’s true that you’re building up equity in your property – but that equity is not liquid, since it’s hard to tap without hefty fees (on a home equity loan). Also, unless you’re lucky enough to live in an area with a real-estate bubble, property doesn’t historically appreciate very quickly. It might keep pace with money markets or CDs – 3-5% a year – but not with the stock market, which averages closer to a 10% return. Other disadvantages for the footloose below-the-radar types: homes are stationary. If you own, it’s hard to hop ship for a different neighborhood or city. Maintenance isn’t to be taken lightly either. Painting, yardwork, and caulking the bathroom tub, or hiring a handyman to do it, are part of owning a home. But the biggest drawback is taxes. Annual property taxes vary widely, but in Tucson a $150,000 property will be billed around $1200 per year. In some parts of the country the bill could be closer to $3000 for a similar property. This money goes largely to the support of public schools, which won’t benefit you as a childless tax-dodger. You’re too smart to avoid the expensive trap of children.
3. Live with others. If you don’t own a house, where to live? If you can stand it, sharing a place makes a lot of sense. Not only can rent or mortgage payment be split up, but utilities are usually much cheaper when shared. Some services have tiered pricing structures to penalize heavy consumption (e.g. in Tucson, water). However, many services are still cheaper on a per capita basis since connection and service fees are fixed. Also, many services have untiered fees, like cable TV, high-speed internet, phone and garbage pickup.
4. Shop online. Not only are prices usually cheaper, and free shipping often available, but sales tax is rarely collected. In places like Tucson, sales tax eats 7.6% of your purchasing power. Parts of California and New York reach around 10%. So far, most online retailers who don’t have a brick-and-mortar store in your state don’t collect sales tax from you. Amazon.com is one of my favorite online retailers since orders over about $30 ship free, although slower than regular orders. Prices are usually 10-25% lower than local outlets, in addition to the 7.6% no-sales-tax reduction. Some states require that you remit sales tax from online purchases on your own...
5. Don’t earn much. This last one is the most difficult. Income tax is difficult to dodge, which is why the government relies on it so much. No matter how frugal your lifestyle, you’ll still give up at least 30% if you have any normal kind of job. I’m not giving advice on tax loopholes, and not only because I don’t know of any. As far as earnings, there is no easy way to live below the tax radar.

Each week I ride from my house out to Sabino Canyon. Sabino is a deep gash in the south-southwest face of the Santa Catalina mountains. From the parking lot, a paved road continues 3.7 miles up the canyon into the heart of the mountains. Cyclers turn around here for the fast ride back down to the parking lot. Last week I rode out by myself into a cold sustained headwind. Five miles into the ride, my right knee started to hurt. I realized I was fighting my SPDs, trying to bring my heel in more than the pedals allow. Mine have about six degrees of float -- not enough. Or maybe enough if I could adjust the cleat angle, but that's not possible. I think six degrees is fairly standard. By the time I got to Sabino my knee was killing me, and I thought I could actually see some bruising on it. On the way home I swore I'd look into some full-float pedals. An email to my brother and a search on the web pointed me toward Speedplay. But their two lines of road pedals (the lollipops) require standard road shoes with a 7- or 8-bolt pattern (I can't remember). Speedplay's Frog off-road shoe fits standard 2-hole (SPD-style) shoes. They have "unlimited float", but that's not really true. On the bike, your heel cannot rotate inward more than a degree or two. It can rotate out 20 degrees before releasing. There is no spring, and nothing prevents your cleats from releasing except your muscles holding your heel in line with the bike (within 20 degrees). When I first figured out how they work (sitting on my couch playing with the pedals) I was surprised -- they aren't really "clipless" pedals at all. They're a different animal... a cross between a platform pedal and true clipless, like SPDs, where you are actually attached to the bike, with spring tension preventing your cleats from releasing. I was disappointed. $130 for what are really just platforms? The packaging suggests 2-3 weeks to get used to the pedals. I installed them and went for my Sabino ride. It took me about 2-3 minutes to get used the pedals, and I actually like them. It's very easy to "clip in" -- just put your foot down. Also easy to clip out -- no spring tension holding you in. Just swing your heel out. No sound. It just releases. It's clever, but it makes me wonder if I need clips at all. Rivendell generally thinks no, they're silly. Rhino likes them. I like them. With clipless, I don't have to worry about where to place my foot on the pedal fore/aft or side to side. Just plop. Otherwise I'd be moving my foot around all the time, being rather flippant.

I'm always searching for something to rent at the local movie place. They have 2-for-1 on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Supposedly, they have around 30,000 titles (including the ones in the "special" back room?). Over the last five years, I've worked my way through most of the movies in the store (but not the back room). At least it feels that way. If there really are 30,000, averaging 2 hours each, it would take almost seven years of solid viewing. I've watched almost all of the AFI's top 100 (overall a good list), and most of the Academy Award winners. The two lists overlap a lot. Since I've seen almost everything, a visit to the video store can be an arduous one. I walk up and down the aisles, looking in vain for something I haven't seen before and isn't totally cheesy. Recently I discovered television... on DVD. Since the local FOX station replays the same five episodes of Seinfeld over and over, I can now rent and watch all the episodes on Seinfeld in order. The problem is, I don't like Seinfeld (much).

Sometime last year I was at Matt Fab's house and we watched part of an episode of Monk on USA. It didn't hook me at the time. However, months later at Casa Video, I picked up Season One, Disc One. I was hooked. Each DVD has four 42-minute episodes. I can easily watch a DVD in one sitting. Addictive... time consuming... bad. All I need is another excuse not to go running at night.
Monk is a clever show, but not too clever. Some parts of it are downright cheesy. But the characters make it brilliant entertainment. In particular Monk, played by Tony Shaloub, will make you feel ok about every little neurosis you've ever had. I won't prattle on about the show here. Just go down to the video store and rent a disk or two. Please steer clear of Civilization, however. The nice thing about TV shows is that there is a finite number of episodes. Civilization can be played forever.

Last night I watched the final available episode of Monk (season 3). Season four is currently about halfway through on USA, but I don't have cable and won't anytime soon. It's the end of an era. Back to work.

You can have too much music in your life. Who has time to listen to it all? A few days ago I bought a satellite radio and signed up for a free 3-month trial. The receiver was free too, with a deal my brother found on fatwallet.com. Actually, with rebates I'll end up making about 25 bucks. My brother is always finding deals like this, where he can do this and that and send in these rebates and end up with $100. Even though it was free, the satellite radio had a negative side effect: it brought me past the brink of music overload. Let's take stock of my current musical options. I'm a dedicated NPR listener, so that or KXCI is usually on in my car. I also listen to NPR in the mornings while reading The Economist as part of my new morning routine (see separate post). At home I also have a few hundred CD's, and an old 10 gig ipod with FM transmitter with another 3000 songs. At work I have my computer with an undisclosed number of tracks. And for good measure, throw in my trusty 512MB Creative Nomad, basically a non-white (ethnic?) Shuffle.
On the rare occasion I stay in a hotel good enough to have cable TV, I'm overwhelmed by the options and invariably get Channel Anxiety. Now I get to experience Song Anxiety every day of my life; in my home, in my car, and at my desk at work. It's important, however, to keep things in perspective. I'm not suggesting that choice is bad, as some researchers are now doing (see recent Scientific American article). Choice is the result of free minds operating in a free market. The best thing about choice is that one can choose to have more or less. When my free trial is up, I'll dump XM radio and 200 choices along with it.

I moved into my current house about four and a half years ago. At the time, both my East and West neighbors appeared to be owner-occupants. Within two years of my arrival, however, both houses became rentals. The East house was sold and then stood vacant for many months, but finally became sporadically occupied in August. The new renters came and went, never staying for too long. It appeared that a group of college guys had preemptively rented out the house for the school year. Until school started, they were using the place as a party house and occasional crash pad. In September, a few weeks after they actually moved in, a Cox cable guy came 'round, apparently installing cable TV. I noted this in the back of my mind somewhere as I had a series of thoughts: Cox cable... college guys... they'll have high-speed internet... it's a 4-bedroom house (I think)... installing wiring is a pain... since they don't own the house they'll likely go wireless... and something like 90% of wireless routers and not secured... probably 99.9% of college kid's wireless routers...
I should say at this point that I do without an internet connection at home. Two summers ago I got a cell phone and ditched my land line, severing the possibility of dial-up or DSL. I've never had cable or dish... too expensive for a one-person household, and way too much of a distraction for an already-distracted grad student with a known weakness for shows such as Junkyard Wars and Chop Shop, not to mention History Channel WWII specials of any kind. When I need the internet, I either travel the 3.5 miles to my office or I walk the 3.5 blocks to the public library near my house.
This brings us to one night in early October, when I sat at my desk in my room working on my laptop. Actually, I was probably either writing a blog entry or playing the heroin-like computer game Civilization III. Earlier that day I had carried my laptop to work and used it at the local coffee shop to surf the web while drinking my Illy double Espressicano (my name for an Americano with so little water, it's closer to espresso). After surfing, I neglected to disable the wireless radio on my laptop. Back at home that evening, the radio was still on, and *viola!*, it picked up a wireless signal. Barely. The signal was very weak, and I didn't have time to even check my email before it kicked me off due to a weak signal. I unplugged my laptop and moved onto my bed, next to the window, which is about 15 feet from my neighbor's house. Now I had moved from "Very very weak signal" territory into "Low signal" territory. Now I could pop onto Pine to check my email.
This is technically poaching. But is it stealing? My neighbors have failed to secure their wireless router, which is very easy to do. But that's like saying it's ok to rob someone's house if they don't lock the front door. I'm not systematically downloading music or large image files (ahem). But I'm still using a service they pay for. Right now, this problem is pretty low on my list of ethical dilemmas. If my neighbors didn't wake me once or twice a week at 3 am with car alarms and yelling in their front yard, and if they didn't toss beer cans and cigarette butts into my yard, I might feel a little bit bad. But the way it is, I don't.
On a related (wireless) note: I'm now picking up a full-signal wireless network called "Free Public WiFi" at my house. This started just a few days ago. However, it doesn't actually work. If I start up a web browser or SSH (to use Pine), I get nuthin. A web search doesn't show any city-wide WiFi in Tucson. Only hotspots here and there. By the way, I'm all for citywide wireless, but it shouldn't be a city-funded utility. Let it be run by competing providers! Let them use any business model they like: free with advertising, or a subscription service or whatever. Don't make it a city utility and make everybody pay for it regardless of it they use it and regardless of the quality of the service. I don't understand arguments to make *any* services into municipal monopolies, besides police services. Fire, ambulance, garbage, water, sewer, phone, and WiFi -- they should all be privately offered services.

I wish to live in a house of my own design and construction. So far I have only built portions of the house, and then only in my head. Some parts are easy to build, and some solutions are obvious. Floors will be polished concrete with embedded local stone. Heating will be through pipes laid in the floor. Windows will be large and numerous, be able to open where possible, and be as unencumbered as pratical with crossbeams, supports, or anything obstructing vision. The roof will be of some relatively uncorrodable material, be it aluminum for cost and lightness or copper for durability and beauty. Roof panels can be welded together in such a manner as to create an extremely durable, waterproof and fireproof, if heavy, roof. It is my vision to create a house that has and retains a natural beauty with as little maintainence as possible on the part of the homeowner. This means employing unpainted, durable materials wherever possible, and also materials that look well with weathering and fit into the surrounding environment. A copper roof would serve nicely in this way, weathering to some type of green color after a number of years. I’m not sure what effect the metaliferous runoff would have, over time, on vegetation surrounding the house. Aluminum may produce a chalky white staining, and could also kill plants (though it has extremely low solubility, thus the production of bauxite in tropical climates). To achieve harmony with the environment and locale, stone from the region should be incorporated into some part of the exterior and interiour, and not in a superficial way or as a façade. No part of the house should serve only the decorate or “beautify” unless it is an integral part of the structure and physical purpose of the house. Economy is another major factor (especially in my first house). Wherever possible, recycled materials should be used and simplicity of design should be employed to produce both cost savings and simplicity of final form. To take this to an extreme, one envisions a house as follows: Two simple boxy sections, one situated higher than the other (most of my mental house plans are split level. It adds some interest to the house, allows it to lie in interesting terrain (e.g., a hillside) which in turn allows the architect some control over sun exposure (important in Arizona where I now live) and effects a split between living quarters and dining/entertainment quarters. Some overlap also leads to efficiency in heating/cooling like a 2-story house has (in theory). My ideal design involves a “tower” or an elevation, rough or many-sided section. Above would probably be a study with a view in some desireable direction. The roof would be fairly flat. If it must be sloped due to snow loads, perhaps it could be sloped in one direction (NOT peaked). or in two, with each half sloping a different way (of course this would create some problems). I envision the house being supported by a welded steel framework, not wooden studs. This could be accomplished by welding a series of standard sections, lifting into place, or could be engineered on the scale of the house. The other walls could even hang from a centrally grounded support column. Regardless, I envision walls made like a sandwich: outside of plywood, interior of several inches of (insulating) foam with an optional layer of another type of insulation, and an interior of some dense, tough material that is either able to take a finish or can have drywall screwed to it or plaster applied. Ideally, it would be directly finish-able to save much cost and hassle associated with hanging and finishing drywall/plaster. The pre-assebled panels should overlap in some ways to keep out the elements and allow strength in the assembled unit. For example the exterior plywood and interior finishing layer could each be offset several feet in opposite directions so the pieces fit together rather like puzzle pieces. The strength of the wall would be provided by the panels themselves, attached to a steel superstructure, over even cables suspended from a structure above. The floors could be simple poured concrete, stained or colored, with aggregate, polished fairly smooth. Walls painted and trimmed with metal or light wood to match light switches.

Last December, the day before my trip to Pasadena, my house was broken into. That was my first experience with Tucson's infamously high property crime rates. They didn't get much, but the things they did get were annoying to replace. The total value of stolen goods was less than the deductable on my home insurance, so it wasn't worth making a claim. Plus, making a claim would increase my rates, making it a dumb move. In general, making small claims on insurance of any kind isn't smart. Insurance is for big stuff. It's for when your house burns down, and you're out $150,000. Or when your car is stolen. Or when you're diagnosed with cancer and facing years of chemo and radiation treatments. Insurance doesn't make much sense for small stuff because the insurance companies will, on average, charge you more than you'll ever get in benefits. This occurs for two reasons. First, insurance companies have overhead to run their businesses (employees, buildings, phone bills). Second, you can lower your risk below that calculated by the insurance company. In this way, over the long term, you'll save money -- even if you get some things stolen. The money you save from not paying insurance premiums makes up for that.

I've taken some security measures to make my house safer. No more break-ins so far.

Two weeks ago I came home from work and parked my car in my carport. I had my road bike on the back, on a hitch rack. When I drive to work (rarely), I park about 1/2 mile from campus, so I ride my bike from the parking spot to save time. So my bike was on my bike rack. I've always figured my front yard is a pretty safe place, especially when I'm at home. The yard is flanked by high walls, so anyone coming into the yard has to make a frontal approach, and is greeted by automatic motion-sensor floodlights. I parked my car, went inside and worked on my computer. I left my bike on the rack. An hour or so later I went outside and the bike was gone. I stared in disbelief. The thief had to waltz into my front yard under the glare of the floodlights and spend probably 60-120 seconds unhooking the bike from the rack (it was held on with an awkward screw mechanism). In addition, my front door was open and my two dogs were "on patrol" in the living room, about 4 feet from my bike as the... fly flies. Now that takes guts. Breaking into someone's house while they're at work isn't too risky. But stealing a bike while they're home... that's a different sort of crime.

To top it off, I went into my back yard to do some yard work last weekend. I looked high and low, but couldn't locate my aluminum step ladder. It's no longer located in my backyard, so it, too, has been stolen.

Sometimes I really hate this town.

I’m an American and I like Halloween. Halloween is thought to have started out around 2,000 years ago in Europe (Celtic Britian and Northern France). However, The Economist recently reported that many Europeans are boycotting the holiday, and trying to convince others to do so. Several municipalities in Germany passed resolutions against Halloween on the basis that it’s a repugnant commercial holiday trumpeted and blown out of proportion by Americans. Did they ban trick-or-treat-ing? That wasn’t clear from the article.

How wrong can they be? Halloween is the most unusual of American holidays. In a country supposedly overrun by Christian Fundamentalists, it’s conceded to be an anti-Christian, pagan-based holiday when the goblins and ghouls get to take over for a night, God-willing or not. True, the holiday involves a $2-billion-in-one-night industry in candy give-aways. Give-aways might be typical of the American welfare state, but on this particular holiday, individuals voluntarily invite kids, teenagers and other strangers onto their private property to give them candy. Americans are stereotyped as greeting strangers at the door with double-barrelled shotguns – but not on halloween, when we’re more likely to sport a skull mask and wield nothing more dangerous than a large salad-bowl-turned-candy bin. Americans are often critised for our “lack of community” – but Halloween is the one holiday when we throw open our front doors and greet our neighbors, even if they are dressed as vampires and proceed to commit extortion by delivering the threat of unspecified property damage. We applaude these kids for looking truly horrible – sporting tatoos, piercings, blood and make-up (as long as it’s all rub-on, clip-on, or otherwise temporary). Any other day we’d call them antisocial and send them to counseling.

It’s baffling why Europeans are against Halloween, which is such an atypical American holiday. If they’re so anti-commercial, why not eschew Christmas? If they’re so secular, why not skip Easter? And don’t tell me Europeans are against overdosing on carbohydrates – if so, how can they condone Oktoberfest?

Have you ever stuck a CD into a microwave and hit "start"? The resulting glowing crackle disintegration of the aluminum oxide layer on the CD is very cool. However, such foolishness just scratches the surface of what can be done in one of these amazing devices. EMPTY microwave ovens can build up rather large voltages. As you know from high school or college physics, most substances (such as air) have a certain breakdown voltage, at which point the material is no longer able to act as an electrical insulator. The material becomes conductive (or rather, the conditions are such that the material is conductive). To explore the fascinating world of microwave-related feats, I wholeheartedly recommend this excellent website. Please follow this guy's safety instructions, and don't use a microwave you don't want to destroy. (Translation: use a microwave you want to destroy).

There are some valuable tips to learn from that site. The most important involves the phenomenon of the superheating of water. "Superheating" refers to a condition where a material is heated above its boiling temperature. This is a metastable condition, meaning that some minor stimuli is needed to allow the system to move from metastable to stable, accompanied by a release of energy. In the case of water in the microwave, what happens is this:

1) you put some water in a mug and into the microwave, planning to make some tea or cocoa. 2) you heat up the water reeeeeal good, but you don't see any boiling action. 3) you think "Oh well, it's been in there for five minutes, I bet it's hot enough." 4) you remove the cup from the microwave and toss in some sugar (or cocoa powder, or even a tea bag or spoon). 5) the water erupts forth in a furious boil, possibly scalding you and/or innocent bystanders.

What happened? The water was heated above 100 C (or the boiling point at the altitude of your stove depending on weather conditions and ion content of the water -- salty water boils hotter). It didn't boil because, for some reason, bubbles couldn't form. When you put the cocoa powder or sugar into the cup, a bunch of tiny bubbles formed. The water could then "boil" as liquid water turned into vapor across the bubble-water interface. This is all explained quite well on the website I recommended. Check it out.

Here is my current computer setup, with two side-by-side Samsung 213T monitors. Samsung is coming out with a new 21" model, the 214T, with better refresh time and contrast ratio. So Marcus sold me his old 213T. It's a nice setup -- I'm a fan and proponent of dual monitors. However, two 21.3"-ers is almost too much. They dominate the desktop, of course. For single-window tasks, like reading email or writing this blog, the second monitor is worthless. In fact, it's detrimental, because you have to keep track of where your program window is going to open, and move it if necessary. The productivity gains come in when doing a task like programming. Then, I can have a window with code on the left, and the input or output file on the right monitor. That is very useful. Also, it's nice to have Itunes open on the right and always visible, along with your email inbox and an Explore window. No more searching the taskbar for your programs. Of course if you're a dedicated alt-tab user (to switch between programs in Windows) then dual monitors won't be as much of a boon.

In other news, it's hot in Tucson -- hovering around 100 F when it is supposed to be topping out around 91 or 92 this time of year. My favorite Tucson weather site is the University of Arizona Atmospheric Sciences website. They don't give a forecast, or radar images, but they give data-filled graphs of temp, precip, wind and other fascinating things. The big advantage for me is that the instruments measuring this information are about 400 feet from where I sit. An accurate micro-local picture of the weather.

Hershey's has a T-shirt deal going. Save up 15 candy bar wrappers and you can get a free T-shirt -- one of five styles (Hershey's, York, Reeses, Almond Joy...). I went to Fry's and bought 66 candy bars (11 six packs). They were buy one, get one free, so total chocolate cost was about $15.00. I went home and unwrapped all the bars, storing the chocolate in Ziploc bags:


Be careful not to tear the wrappers -- they are supposed to be intact with full UPC symbol. The unwrapping took longer than expected, maybe 45 minutes total. Print the order form from Hershey's website. Maximum shirts per address is five, so you can get one of each style. I layered 62 wrappers in a Ziploc and compressed it flat for mailing. (I included 6 extra wrappers in case some are rejected by Hershey's, since a few were torn. I kinda doubt they'll even count the wrappers. Can you picture some poor employee in Pennsylvania counting thousands of candy wrappers? Not likely. Better to weigh them.) These went into a 9x12" envelope with a check for $7.00 (shipping and handling). Total per-shirt cost = $4.40. That is not counting the value of the chocolate (if you plan to eat it), nor the value of your time (an hour or so, including the trip to the grocery store).

Last summer I had an eye examination at Sam's Club here in Tucson. I got my contact and eyeglass prescriptions. I ordered contacts right away, but put off getting glasses. This summer, just over a year later, I returned to Sam's to get glasses. The eye technician looked at my prescription and said, sorry, this is expired, you'll need a new exam if you want glasses. This is stupid. Why should an eyeglass prescription ever expire? I can't think of a single reason. It is illegal for someone to make glasses for me with this prescription. The government forbids it. Why? Am I really better off with glasses that are four years old? That is what I currently have, and they are barely usable for getting around my house in the evening. They don't work for driving -- that is why I need new ones. The government, in its infinite collective wisdom, says I'm better off with old glasses than a prescription that is over 3 years newer. I think I know why this law exists. Undoubtably, there is a state licensing board for optomitrists and eyeglass providers. This board almost certainly went begging to the legislature to create just such a law: prescriptions expire after one year. They put a guise on it: it's for the benefit of the people! We don't want them to get bad prescriptions! Shouldn't that be my decision? Why do I need a nanny state to protect me from my desire to wear glasses ground to a one-year-old prescription (or a 40-year-old prescription, for that matter)? The eyeglass lobby created this stupid Arizona law. Such is the typical function of such industry regulation groups: figure out ways to get the government to coerce more money from everyone else. Such use of the government is unethical. Another example of why government must stay out of economics, and deal only with the legitimate task of providing for defense from external and internal threats and uses of force.

Today I attempted an Epic. An Epic is a big undertaking -- the kind of adventure you remember for years, if not the rest of your life. Climbing the 6-pitch route "Moby Dick" -- my first multi-pitch climb -- was an epic. Hiking Tanque Verde Ridge with Casey, Brant, and the late Robert Fromm was an Epic. We Walked dawn to dusk, covering about 25 miles. I like doing Epics because they stick in my mind and give me a long-term sense of accomplishment. I don't usually remember the details of 5- or 10-mile hikes in the Catalinas. They occasionally pop into my mind when something reminds me, but on a typical day I don't think much about my hikes along Crystal Springs trail, or Butterfly, or even Oracle, Red, and Samaniengo Ridges.

Today's failed mini-Epic was to be a ~15 mile hike in the Santa Rita mountains, 35 miles SSE of Tucson. We (Tess, Erin, Sabkha and I) planned to hike up Florida Canyon to the main ridge of the 'Ritas, then up to Mt Wrightson (the high point of the 'Ritas) and down Madera Canyon. We stashed a mountain bike at the Madera Canyon trailhead, intending to ride the bike about 8 miles to Florida Canyon and retrieve the car. This "bike shuttle" can be pretty useful, avoiding non-scenic multi-mile hikes along roads (ugh).

We dropped off the bike, locking it to a handrail outside the pit toilets at the tippy top of the revamped Madera Canyon parking and picnic complex. Then we drove over to Florida Canyon. Unfortunately, the entire area is closed due to the large fire that burned in the 'Ritas earlier this the summer. It is not clear why the trails are closed. The typical rationale I hear is: "to protect visitors from falling branches and unstable trails". Uh, ok... hiking is inherently risky, so what's a slight increased risk of falling branches to worry about? More important, since when is it the federal government's job to worry about my personal risk-taking behaviour? To continue: so I can smoke, hang glide, drive a car, but I can't hike under some charred branches -- oh no! Disgusted with the USDA, we returned to Madera Canyon and found that virtually all trails in the central and eastern Santa Rita Mountains are closed. This includes both trails to Mt Wrightson (Super Trail and Baldy Trail). The trail to Aqua Caliente Saddle was open, so we started up that direction. The rain poured down, it got cold (at least I got cold) and we turned back, covering perhaps three miles round trip. Sabkha had a good time as usual.

I'm leaving Tucson (for good) in under 1.5 years -- my goal is to be out by Christmas 2006. So I begin to think of what Epics I'd like to remember Tucson by. I've got a cache of ideas. One long-standing Epic idea of mine is "Door-Mount Lemmon-Door". This would involve stepping out my front door, hiking to the top of 9300-ft Mt Lemmon in the Santa Catalinas, and returning to my door. A long slog, and about 15 miles of it would be through the city (from my house north to the mountains). Total round trip would be around 50 miles, with over 15,000 feet of elevation change! Even an ultramarathoner would probably have difficulty doing that trip in under 24 hours. It's probably not a realistic Epic for me in the next 16 months. A better one might be: stash bikes atop Mt Lemmon. Hike door to Mt Lemmon, ride bikes down.

Other Epic ideas include:

1) Rillito-Tanque Verde Wash Walk (up the Rillito to Tanque Verde Canyon, a favorite spot of mine). This would check it at about 45 miles round trip (but mostly flat).

2) Catalina Bike Circumnavigation: ride bikes through Oro Valley and Oracle, up the Control Road, and down the Catalina Highway. Mileage: around 100. Probably do-able in 24 hours, but very challenging.