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<p align="right"><font size="6">[[Transition|<font face="Consolas, Courier new">claytoncastle.com</font> •  T R A N S I T I O N]]</font></p>
<p align="center"><font size="6">[[Transition|<font face="Consolas, Courier new">claytoncastle.com</font>]]</font></p>
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=[[2021.11.26 Slowness]]=
=[[2022.08.08 Wee Vanless]]=
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It's embarrassing to note that I'm just one day short of a year to finally finish the "latest" short story installment of [[The Massetin Vignettes]]:
Sold the kei-class Mitsubishi Minicab Bravo today.
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<big><b>[[2020.11.27 "Come on guys, it's OK."]]</b></big>
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Now, it's probably time to get on with finishing some of the novellas I started writing [checks] 4 - 13 years ago?  Oof.
It's possible that it is actually a victim of its own success.  The nominal purpose of the wee van was to haul mountain bikes, and if getting to ride in the wee van meant riding mountain bikes, both of my kids wanted in on the actionUnfortunately, the wee van only has room for 2 people + 2 bikesSo the wee van just isn't big enough to carry us all.
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=[[2021.10.22 Anti-Social Media]]=
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So, I've just deleted the Instagram app off of my devicesWhich is not the same as deleting my account, but puts Instagram in the same realm as my eternally-dormant BookFace account.
 
Back in the stirring age of web 2.0, I was an early-adopter member of The Facebook when it was first starting to really expand.  Hilarious to me now is that I hated it for snotty aesthetic reasons - I didn't like how it made everyone's content superficially similar.  Looking at my whimsical formatting of the frames-enabled version of claytoncastle.com from that era, I do question my tastes in that regard.
 
But it was the fakey-fakeness of Facebook that irked me most as it grew exponentially, and the fact that I felt required to maintain an account in order to stay in touch with the multitude of not-HTML-capable friends, family, and acquaintances I would otherwise never hear from.
 
It was my BiL that clued me into the less-rhetorical space of Instagram, where we could keep in touch via mostly pictures and brief text comments.  It was an amusing way to feel like part of the mountain biking community, as well as another touch point with all my arrayed people with whom other correspondence was extremely unlikely.  When the RooKwiki 1.0 imploded and with it cratered my ability to casually host images, I started leaning on Instagram for the photographic side of my social media.
 
Things have soured since thenOut in the world, Instagram became part of the Facebook fuckathon, which I hateEspecially the recent revelations about the probably-intentional harmful risks it runs with manipulation of younger users.  On a personal level, my social media existence became muddied during my divorce, and I feel uncomfortable with the degree that the feed feels like more of the fakey-fakeness I hate about its parent company.


So.
Plus there is the small difficulty with travelling at freeway speeds.  And a total lack of safety equipment.  And an inability to start in cold weather.  And a lack of basic creature comforts.


That leaves me back at this clunky thing, that I keep plugging away at.  Because it's the way that I feel most accurately reflectedPlus, Reddit.  Obviously.
Anyway, there needs to be a replacement crappy van to suit the increased crew + cargo requirementsThe hunt begins now for Project: DEATH BOX.
 
UPDATE: [[2010.02.13 Anti Social Networking | REFERENCE]]
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=[[2021.10.05 200,000 Dead From Stupidity]]=
=[[2022.07.30 München VS Portland]]=
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The US recently exceeded 700,000 dead from COVID-19 directly, and it is estimated that at least 200,000 of those were entirely preventable deaths of people who chose not to get vaccinated.
I really like Portland.  Lots of fun people, great food, and ready access to outdoor fun.  But there are definitely two things that Munich Germany does so well that it makes me wish there was some way to import to where I live.


It is hard work not to just lash out with rejecting hatred at all the anti-intellectualism.  But seriously, a big chunk of my soul just groans "good riddance, morons".
First: the subway system.  It's goddamn magical, how well-integrated it is and magnificently run.  Unfortunately, to have such a thing in Portland would involve an order of magnitude more investment than what we already struggle with to make our half-assed MAX system run.  But I really do think that if we had something as fundamentally wonderful as das Münchner U-Bahn-System, we Portlanders would find the value in it.
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Second: German drivers in generalAggressive but capableMore than a few assholes, to be sure, but at least they're gone fast. My very first driving experience back in Portland was an enraging reminder of how fucking unskilled and oblivious Portland drivers areNot really anything to be done easily about that either.
 
=[[2021.09.30 German Reflections]]=
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Having had some time to reflect on my time in Deutschland, it appears that my most poignant memories are actually juxtapositions that were only clear once I was back in the USThe general efficiency of the driving and roads and trains and pedestrian access was appreciated while I was there, but wildly accentuated once back in the chaotic bullshit miasma of American infrastructureThe no-nonsense methodical way in which everyone wore masks in public places didn't actually stand out much for me while I was there, but again it made for horrified acquaintance with the distributed idiocy of anti-maskers inflicting themselves on the public spaces here in the US.  There was also an important election that took place while I was there, the dignified lack of drama of which didn't fully sink in until I came back and saw some lingering MAGA hats at the Chicago airport.
 
As sensible and Clayton-approved as Germany is, I don't see myself going there purely for enjoymentWhile well-run and stable and historically interesting, there's just nothing that pulls my soul either.  Maybe if I had managed to find time to go mountain biking with Nial while I was there that could have been different.
 
Also, there's only so much ground/flattened overcooked meat that one can eat.
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=[[2021.09.26 Germany]]=
=[[2022.07.17 Joys Of Home Ownership]]=
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Here I am, in Stuttgart, Germany.   
Amy and I love our house, because of how perfectly it fits us and the kids, with a great walkable neighborhood, and a huge list of facets that make it lovely.  Except, as every homeowner knows, houses are not static entities - they're a constant grind of repairs and improvements fighting against the endless tide of entropyAnd when we bought The Battery (nickname brought to you by a dubious concatenation of initials) there was one big upgrade we intended to do: solar panels.


I was going to try to summon some observations, but after writing down some they seemed... boring? Maybe that is a statement unto itselfRegardless, aside from the gruelling work days, I have been quite liking it here.
It took a little while to arrange, but we settled on the Tesla solar system with a powerwall battery backup for the house (and a grateful nod to the federal 10k$ tax rebate to make it happen).  Significant delays were incurred as we waited for planning and approvals, but finally we had the system installed!  Except, not yet commissioned because it needs final inspection for powering up by PGE (our local power utility)Annoyingly, PGE never got around to upgrading our service meter to allow for 2-way power delivery, but the resourceful installers at Tesla installed a parallel meter system that should workHowever, this required completely re-wiring our breaker box - and it got pretty cramped.  Still, everything worked just fine - or so it seemed.
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A couple days later, apparently some yahoo crashed into a power pole a couple blocks away.  This knocked power out for the neighbourhood, but also sent a power bump at the same time.  The powerwall tried to cover for the lost power, but encountered problems.  The problem became clear when the main power came back on later that day - three of our circuit breakers were unable to be reset.  Along with it we were down the section of the house that powered the internet modem, our furnace controller, and dishwasher.


=[[2021.09.07 Cascading Similarities]]=
Some frantic calls to Tesla later, we were told they would get to us as soon as possible - after the weekend. So we limped through a warm weekend without AC, washing dishes by hand, and running an extension cord to power the modem. Monday came, and they verified that the breakers themselves needed replacement.  But they could not get parts until the next day - but they could re-purpose one of the working breakers to run whichever circuit was needed to make the HVAC work again.  So by trial and error it was determined that it was... none of them.  Something else was wrong with the HVAC, and the dishwasher.
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After the technicians left, we did some frantic research on what could be amiss. Everything we could find was fine - breaker on, reset switch reset, circuit board fuse was fine. So thought we had deduced that we had fried our smart thermostat controller.  I rolled to the only store locally claiming to have the same model, so that I could just plug-and-play a replacement, and they didn't have one.  They did have an upgraded version, though that required re-wiring the controls.  Screw it - whatever.  Bought it, installed it.  Still didn't work.


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We hoped that it was a combination of a fried control unit AND an unpowered circuit. Those hopes ended when the Tesla technicians showed up bright and early and replaced power to the whole house. Still no joy for the HVAC, or the dishwasher.  They were not really permitted to do anything beyond the power distribution system, but did us the favour of testing the high-voltage fuses for the AC - which turned out to be blown.


Look at that.
So we went to an electrical supply store to purchase some replacement shotgun-shell-sized fuses.  And the HVAC still didn't work.  So we were left with having to call HVAC technicians, and the earliest available appointment was two weeks out.
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=[[2021.08.10 Hypertension]]=
Luckily, Pyramid Heating & Cooling called a couple days later to say that they had a cancellation, and they could come immediatelyWell, not immediately - because it was the afternoon and since our furnace is in the attic it would be horrific.  But they did swap us with another customer the very next morning.
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Couple weeks ago I had my blood pressure taken as a routine facet of going to the dentist: 154/103 mm HgFor years I've had mildly worrisome elevated blood pressure, 120-130 systolic and 80-90 diastolic.  But this is, well, woah.


Amy immediately obtained a blood pressure cuff, to monitor meAnd I need to consider the factors I can controlMost notably diet and exercise.
In the meantime, we got to work on the dishwasher, with the working assumption that it had a fuse of some kind that was also borked.  So we disconnected it and pulled it out to find that it has no such protection feature.  Time for a new dishwasher.  Which was fetched in the uber-charming wee van, to the delight of the Home Despot workers who helped us get itWhich in itself is a minor miracle, because it turns out that Home Depot doesn't stock appliances - except that happened to have accidentally been shipped the exact one we wanted.  Which was funBrought it home, installed it, and it works great.


On the diet side, the pandemic has led me to slide into low-energy state of ordering lots of food deliveredWhich is generally the worst possible thing diet-wise for hypertensionSo much salt and sugarAmy has redoubled her efforts to make me eat healthy, and I hope to be a bit more sanguine about my capitulations to my cravingsWe'll see.
Pyramid technician shows up and listens to our tale of woeHe said, "I have an idea"A few minutes later, "YEP - your transformer got burned out." Replaced it handily, and our HVAC comes to life and was working greatThe feeling of relief was a welcome change.


Exercise is tricky. Injuring my achilles tendons from running too much back during the separation was bothersome enough when I was underweight from the "crushing depression diet", but not it is even harder to avoid hurting myself. Plus, it really is hard to find time to get bike rides in when all the worthwhile riding is over an hour away by kei van, and foolish to do alone.
...


Ensuring daily walks isn't really enough, but I have started doing short runs (3km) every other dayIt feels weird to have such a short distance feel difficult when just a couple years ago running 10km felt like just long enough to work out the angstAnd my achilles recovery with just one day between runs is marginal, but hopefully sustainable.
Which lasted for a few daysThen yesterday we noted that the AC was not actually able to cool the houseWe futzed with sensors and settings, but the awkward truth is that it is running the AC and the blower fan and we're getting an insufficiently-cool draft.


It seems to be working.  When last we checked, I was down to 145/95, which is very much in the right directionMore needs to be done, though.
Time for another call to Pyramid.  When they open on MondayGAH.
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=[[2021.07.08 Cool Stuff Update]]=
=[[2022.07.10 Missing My Little Vampire Slayers]]=
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This was the first week of vacation, which I'm taking in alternating weeks while I've got the kiddos.  And we got to spend all of it doing all the things as well as lots of down timeBike riding, D&D, walks to the park, playing Magic, learning Python, beach trip, yardwork, and lots of naps.
"Life moves pretty fast.  If you don't stop and look around once in a while you could miss it.”<br>
<i>Ferris Bueller ('s Day Off)</i>
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Some great moments from the past week-or-so:
*A brief moment of air time in the wee van from a surprise yump on the shadow-dappled atrophied road by Mt. St. Helens.
*Simon's smug joy from getting birthday gifts from family and friends that show how we all know and love him.
*Actually catching people in regular cars on twisty roads while driving a 30-kW kei van - and cackling laughter that made Amy worry a bit.
*Riding bikes with Violet!!! And watching her endlessly circling the campground with joyful grinsI love it so much.
*After sleeping in the back of the wee van, waking up to make some coffee with the Aeropress on the Jetboil.  Simplicity is joyful sometimes.
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The week was somewhat impaired by a power bump and outage that revealed a flaw in our newly-installed solar+battery system (not yet commissioned) which left part of the house without power - so we've had to improvise powering the internet, be mindful of regulating the house temperature with airflow, and washing lots of dishes by hand.


=[[2021.06.29 Heat Wave]]=
The crescendo of the week was last night - as the Spice Girls (the party name for the D&D characters) stumbled upon the secret base of a vampire pirate ship.  In its entirety, the Pale Prow with its vampire spawn crew and its elven-vampire captain would have been wildly overpowered for the Spice GirlsBut they happened to poke them before sunset proper, which allowed them to face the crew separately from the master, and with a couple Daylight™ spells was enough to let them prevail.
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Back when I worked at the pulp mill in Castlegar as a "shift utility", one of the more unpleasant tasks was going up to the top of the power boilers and cleaning the flue grateThere was a mandated maximum time allowed to do it, because prolonged exposure to the 45°C temperatures was considered dangerous.


This factoid was amusing as fuck to recall this past Monday, as I walked from the TEC building to the parkade at the DTNA campus here in Portland, and there was a howling wind of nominally 44°C air roasting me in my business casualsMy eyes were reduced to narrow springs of tears that barely made it to the curve of my cheekbones before evaporating in the blowtorch-like galeHonestly, the heat has been otherworldly.   
We perhaps ran a little too late, but fuck it - it's summer time and they would be stuck in a car all day on a trip to Canada with SThey get to camp in a fun tent trailer, but are completely insistent that they can't do it because of the impossibility of being civilized to each otherI struggled with how to ease this ridiculous impasse, and ended up outraging Simon by belittling the difficultyHere's hoping he gets to sleep in the car.


It is tempting to go searching for all those climate change deniers nowThe same assholes who seemed to think that an unseasonable snowfall contradicted "global warming" should be convinced-as-fuck with massively record-breaking temperaturesRight?  (No, probably notTheir narrative is not one made of reason or understanding or objectivity.)
And now they're gone for a weekAnd I'm am heartbrokenI just immediately miss them a ridiculous amountI can't wait for our next week off together.


Note: Tesla's ability remote-operate the climate controls has been absolutely brilliant.  I took to leaving Ghost in "dog mode" to keep the interior suitably pleasant while parked for short spells.
It really puts the foolish work anxiety in to context.
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=[[2021.06.09 A Moment In Time]]=
=[[2022.06.15 Waiting For The Robots]]=
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We're in the Killingsworth condoI'm nominally working, but really just chasing emails until my crushing non-stop run of meetings later on today.  Amy is cooking something for lunch, before she heads back to the 'country house' to sleep for her next night shift.  Simon is doing schoolwork asynchronously.  Violet is doing a math test.
With a really cool science-fiction sounding title like that, you're probably expecting another AIF taleOr at least perhaps another nerdy chunk of fiction, as I am supposed to be practicing producing.


Violet is good at math, despite her challenges with keeping focusShe's hunched over her computer with intent focus, so unlike her usual modality, while her teacher watches patiently on the screenMy heart is nearly bursting with pride and adoration at her effortsShe is an increasingly-gangly elf person that I love more than I can possibly contain.
Except, nopeIt is literally what I'm doing.  At 20:30 every night, the floor cleaning robots start their sweep of the kitchen and dining roomThe vacuum isn't too noisy, but it's enough noise to make it difficult for my tinnitus-filled old man ears to hear tv showsSo when I settle down to contemplate what to do with the rest of an evening, I check to see how long until the robots are unleashed to figure out if I can binge a quick episode of something - either something fun with Amy, or something cute with the kids, or something horrifying by myself when the other two options aren't available or inclined.


Simon is working through the last shreds of homework, in an effort to nudge his last remaining non-A mark higher. He's such an easily-frustrated smart ass, and he's exactly like I wasLike I am, but without decades of coping mechanisms and life lessons layered over topEven so, he's a more conscientious and kind person than I started out as.  He's the perfect son for me.
But... there's not quite enough time this evening for thatSo I thought I'd retreat to having a bath and reading a bookThen the thought flitted into my head, "shouldn't I be trying to write something?"


Amy likes cooking, and she's good at itBut the way in which she naturally coordinated with the kids to arrange to make things they would like to eat - instead of enduring the endless delivery and basic stuff I fed them - is a lovely expression of how much she has become enmeshed with usI also deeply appreciate the way she makes time to spend with us, simply because she likes being with us, even when it would be easier not to during her work weekHopefully I'm as good a parter for her as she is for me.
And, well, yes - I shouldSo I gave myself the window of "until the robots start rampaging" to see what I could come up with.  Et voilàHere we are.


And then there's meI find myself happily at the hub of a life I love living.
This was going to turn into an awkward section of "well, I did the thing, but I'm not out of time yet"But luckily the kids started fighting, and Charlie is scratching at the door needing tribute.  So that's run out the clock.  Cheers.
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=[[2022.05.28 Gun Safety?]]=
 
=[[2021.05.29 Boop Boop Beep Beep]]=
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Finally found time to drive the kei van down to the DEQ to emission testing, as a first step for getting it titled and registered in Oregon.  It's hilarious how fun it is to drive around on regular surface streets, madly rowing through gears and gingerly turning and braking while every little feature on the road causes it to buck and bounce.  The technician at the testing facility grilled me on all sorts of questions about VANTACULUS, apparently purely out of curiosity, because at the end he seemed to snap out of his childlike reverie and said, "Oh, right, well it checks out just fine - here's your papers."
The whole country is still just calming down from another massively horrific school shooting - "nothing could prevent this, says only country in the world where this regularly happens".


And, indeed, the ridiculous little van was running unusually smoothly, despite yesterday being tormented with a run over to the Rocky Point Trails system. It droned at its maximum velocity along the highway, but scuttled up the twisty access road like a champ. After I did an oddly-exhausting solo ride, having missed my riding crew, the van decidedly did not like winding back down the hill.  The weight transfer forward made the puny back tires feel like they were about the swap ends on me around every steep tilted corner (note to self - get better tires)More worrisome, it chuffed out significant quantities of blue smoke after being coaxed into providing motive effort againMost likely, the leaned-over bank of cylinders didn't like the steepness of the descent, combined with the twisty corners, and the compression braking I was asking of it.
Aside: that is the classic [https://www.theonion.com/latest The Onion] news headline that they used to post every time one of these happenedI wondered if they still do thatUm, I didn't find it, but I found some relevant gold:
* Scientists Discover 90% Of Earth’s Atmosphere Made From Thoughts, Prayers
* Tearful Uvalde Residents Thank Police For Protecting Parking Lot From Gunman
* Entire U.S. Police Force Flees Country After Hearing Gunman Inside Nation
* NRA Convention Applauds As Gunman Massacres Entire Crowd
* Wayne LaPierre States Mass Shootings Can Be Perfectly Safe When Carried Out By A Trained, Responsible Gun Owner
* The Pros And Cons Of Letting Children Die


The drive to RPT was prefaced by ending my days with the kids, and delivering them to their mom's houseThis was their first significant trip in VANTACULUS, having only been around the block in it beforeTheir giggling and continuous babbling of mirth as we wended our way through Portland to get to their mom's house really highlighted the fundamental purpose of VANTACULUS: enjoying silly fun stuff with them.
It is true to say that I'm still fuming over the idea that a fucking SWAT team stood around for almost an hour during the rampage "because they were worried about getting shot"It really goes to the cowardly, spineless posturing that is the heart of gun advocacyThe whole "good guys versus bad guys" is such bullshit - it's all just "assholes".
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Moving on, though, this outrage is entirely too familiar.  And we know from bitter experience that this by itself is simply not enough to persuade the political will in 'Merika to enact sensible gun control laws.  Every other country in the world is able to do it, but we can't in the US because... we suck.


=[[2021.05.15 Police - Bad Apples Welcome]]=
So, clearly it's time to try something elseAnd that something else that I hear people discussing is systematic gun safetyThe selfsame second amendment which has been twisted into this horror show clearly admonishes it be "well-regulated".
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Back in another life, I remember reading Jon Ronson's book, "[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Psychopath_Test The Psychopath Test]" and feeling a creepy sense of too much of it making sense (while also being entertained)The aspect that shook my view on reality the most was the hypothesis about the prevalence of high-functioning psychopaths in the upper echelons of big business, as this seemed entirely too plausible from my vantage in the lower echelons of big business.
 
The strict definition of psychopaths and sociopaths being highly correlated to impulsiveness that makes criminality extremely likely.  However, suppose there is a demographic of these low-empathy types who are self-controlled enough to avoid succumbing to overt criminality, but not quite high-functioning enough to succeed in a high-skill arenaWhere do these hypothetical entities turn instead to stroke their personal sense of power and dominance?
 
Imagine that there is a profession where one can be conferred significant authority without having to master any annoyingly difficult cognitive skills.  Plus add a bonus of having the ability to get away with some criminal activity, just in case the urge becomes irresistible.  It would seem that typical police work in the United States is a veritable honey-pot for these hypothetical middle-draft psychopaths.
 
Find me a hypothesis that better fits with the data, and I'll thank you for helping me struggle against my misanthropy.


The need to have licences is just the obvious beginning.  Much more important is the express assertions of the full force of the US legal system to enact financial consequences - letting people be sued for the pain and destruction of the effects of firearms.  And, as has been idiotically established, companies are effectively people.  Gun manufacturers should have their financial culpability considered for facilitating citizen-on-citizen violence.  Individuals should be driven towards needing insurance proportional to the potential destructive power of their toys (like we already do with cars) as they become directly responsible for what those toys are used for.  People become responsible for children under their care - and what they do with the things they sell them.
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=[[2022.05.14 Automotive Meta-Analysis]]=
 
=[[2021.05.07 Living In America - Part Huh]]=
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For many years, I've often joked that the vehicle you drive says a lot about youAs much as I hate to ascribe too much merit to stereotypes, and readily agree that general use of stereotypes is a bad thing, there are still clearly <i>messages</i> being sentThese messages need not accurately reflect the owner/driver of a vehicle, but they remain complicit in them nonethelessLike the clothing we wear, even if we don't intend to have a meta message, it's still like the tag line of a political ad: "I support this message".
 
[ramble=ON]<br>
[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Welcome_to_Wherever_You_Are Welcome to Wherever You Are] was a timely INXS album for me, as it marked my first fully-away-from-home life while going to university.  It's distinctive not-grunge sound is the soundtrack of my memories that I formed discovering Victoria.  Whenever I hear those songs I recall the sense of recognition of all the things that were fundamentally different about living in the island mini-metropolis from the remote mountain village I came fromEven long after the new environs became familiar and generally unsurprising, it helped me remember that there are still assumptions lingering in my existence that are not actually aligned with where I was.
 
I should re-listen to that album, after yesterday's reminder that I'm not in Canada any more.<br>
[ramble=OFF]
 
Just after noon yesterday, I was on a work call in my 4th-floor condo in semi-urban North Portland with my kids doing distance learning.  A small Black Lives Matter march with about 40 participants made a clatter as they went by on the street below.  It was frankly charming, with drums and singing, and I like that Portland is active in this way.
 
Then a commotion happened, and I missed the kernel of the event.
 
When I looked outside, there was a red minivan in the middle of the crowdIt was almost stopped when I noticed it, the tires I could see were flat, the drivers window was smashed, and the driver looked to be in distress.  But, honestly, what really caught my attention were the handful of people with what appeared to be AR-15 assault rifles pointed at the van - one obstinately standing in front of it with his rifle trained on the driver.
 
Confused yelling ensued, while at least one small person I could see was getting medical aid from somebody with a medical kit on the sidewalk.  Tensions ran high, but nothing more dramatic happenedPeople from the march started bringing bottles of water to the driver, who used them to rinse off his face - presumably he got a heft dose of pepper spray in the eyes.  Other marchers started re-directing traffic away from the scene, to alleviate the instant traffic jam.


Eventually, the armed marchers slung their rifles, and other people led the van driver to sit at a nearby bus stop to recover.  They brought him more water to rinse his eyes, and I noticed that a few other people were rinsing their eyes as well - suggesting that the cloud of pepper spray had drifted about somewhat.  After a few minutes, the driver got back in his minivan and drove it slowly away on 4 flat tires, and the rest of the march evaporated.
<pre>Turns out there's a few self-burns in here.</pre>
 
Some time to process it has let me consider a few things.
 
When I saw the rifles, I got off my work call to be able to call 911.  But I paused, considering, "Do I really want to call the police on a bunch of black people?"  It's a horrifying thing that this is a legitimate concern.  It makes me wish there was a non-police "people who can help" emergency number.  I should spin this thought into a separate Rant™.
 
I still have no idea whether this was a deliberate vehicular assault by the late-middle-aged white male in shabby clothes and crappy minivan, or an oblivious driving error while turning through an intersection.  However, I'm simultaneously impressed and mortified at how clearly ready to respond to exactly such an assault the mark participants were.  The rifles were over-the-top in my opinion, but it's hard to argue against desire to counter the deadliness of a vehicle driving through a crowd.  But the slashing of the tires, the smashing of the driver's window, and pepper spraying the driver all happened in a way that seems like a prepared reaction.  If the driver merely blundered into that crowd, I confess that getting pepper sprayed and some mild damage to his vehicle seems like not the worst repercussion.  If the driver drove through those people intentionally - fuck that guy; I hope he goes blind.
 
Co-morbid with both my reluctance to call the police and my disdain of the weapons present is yet another demonstration of my deeply ingrained privilege.  In that: when I saw people with assault rifles on the street in front of me, I didn't think "DUCK".  I just hung out on my balcony, gawking.  Completely assured that I was not a target, or at risk.  It's probably good that I can exist like this, but maybe it shouldn't be an exceptional thing.
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=[[2021.04.20 Slayer Slayed]]=
=[[2022.05.05 Cinco De Covid]]=
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Tuesday night I had an oddly scratchy throat, and Wednesday morning it was still there so I did a quick COVID test while I readied my stuff to bike into the office - and the damn thing came up positive.


Yeah, I sold the Slayer.
While I did work remotely somewhat on Wednesday, I took it easy.  Today I'm still without fever, but I am definitely ill.  Fortunately, I am fully vaccinated and boosted, so it's not likely to become anything more than annoying flu-like symptoms.


Logically, it made a lot of sense - in several ways. 
The urge is to write something cutesy-poignant about finally meeting the global pandemic up close and personal, but it's way too late for thatThe world has changed, but it's also grown weary of this bullshit. And it's hard to focus on these now-mundane global catastrophes with fresh horrors being summoned by human shittiness.
# First of all, the Slayer as an enduro sled has pretty much the same utility envelope as the Commençal META Power.  Except, you know, every so slightly less awesome.  So the Slayer was likely just going to sit in my bike closet being sad and pathetic.
# This also happens to be a magical time for bike value.  I got 50% more for it than I would have guessed in a normal year, and it sold in just one dayIn retrospect, I should have asked for more.
# Plus there is the very real fact that after 4 years of solid use, it would soon be time to dump a bunch of money into the Slayer to keep it up to snuff.
 
That being said, I was very sad to sell it.  For the usual reasons - that I feel genuine attachment to mechanical things that have helped me, and saved me occasionally, and generally enabled a bunch of great memories.
 
I fully plan on getting another bike, to round out where my Enduro Monster Truck is less well-suited. Probably to enable bike-commuting, but hopefully also for riding less-technical trails.  We'll see. 
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=[[2021.04.03 Bikes and Vans and Stuff]]=
=[[2022.05.04 May The Fourth Be With You]]=
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As is standard for the past year, I'm not spending much time writingWhich isn't because there isn't anything happening, but rather because there's too much happeningOr, really, a combination of a lot of things happening, and my overwhelming state of satisfied happiness.   Which makes for odd and boring blog entries.  
What I used to do was write regularly, with the conceit that I had potential to get good at itAnd my visual creativity was overflowing with ideas after decades of collaborative storytelling with my comradesAs I went along, the catharsis of expressing myself became important by itself. It started feeling like craft.


BUT! There's still a couple things to mention, as a matter of record here.
Which, I suspect, is when I started making excuses to be critical of my own work. So my budding capability for writing has suffered the same fate as my drawing: me poking at it fondly, but not really following through with most ideas.


===1: I broke the Kei Van===
The rare exceptions keep me wistfully thinking about it, though.
It had problems on a return drive from Sandy Ridge in a downpour, then wouldn't start again after we stopped at the Gnarthaller's.  Subsequent inspection showed it was dangerously low on oil (facepalm), even though the oil light never came on.  Will be working on resurrecting it soon.<br>
UPDATE: VANTACULUS LIVES!!!  Thanks to help and support from @gnarthaller.


===2: E-Biking is almost too much fun===
The drawing is a less-dear skill to put down and occasionally pick back up simply because I get so much satisfaction from drawing-like work as an engineerAnd, frankly, the fantasy of becoming a comic artist is not the shining hope it was when I was a kidBut being an author, however...
Blasting a biggish lap out at Sandy Ridge yesterday was very soul-nourishingBut even more telling was last week's "easy ride" turning into a 3-hour marathon with some very fast riders wasn't a problem, thanks to the little extra boostThe twin joys of having fun going uphill plus also not being overtired during descents are really great.


===3: Vaccination Imminent===
...that continues to flicker seductively to my career-frustrated moth mind.
Have an appointment for my first Pfizer jab in a week.  The future is bright.
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=[[2021.03.16 Mitsubishi Minicab Kei Van]]=
=[[2022.04.16 Apathy]]=
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I've been wallowing in that place where I know that I need to be writing, and want to make progress on a couple stories, but seem to always run out of time.  And it's clearly true that my life is very busy these days, packed full of work and parenting and a life with my vampire life partnerYet it's also true that when I do dig out some time to recuperate, I let myself vegetate online.
 
BEHOLD!  The (tentatively titled) VANTACULUS Splinter Van!
 
Reactions to this vehicle usually fall into two basic categories: "AWWW!" and "What the hell?"
 
The easiest way to answer the latter is to refer to the former.  But there is a lot more about this odd emergence of reality, and seeing as how this is my medium for documenting all the publicly notable experiences it seems fitting to elaborate about that.
 
Backing things up a bit, there has definitely been a hole in my vehicular capabilities ever since I sold the Tyrannosaurus (1984 Toyota pickup).  This was well-compensated for with the Schleppenwagen (Mercedes Metris van), but nothing since has been as suitable.  For a few years I've made-do with either a roof-rack on the ex's Subarus or disassembling my bike and jamming it in the back of my Tesla.
 
Much of my bike-hauling needs have been actually satisfied of late with my bike-valet and riding buddy, Friar Gnarthaller and his various bike-shuttling vehicles.  But it is left to me to limp along begging for help when taking Simon for a ride, and annoying whenever I want to go for a simple ride by myself.
 
So I've been contemplating a van for a while now.  Why a van?  Firstly, because having had a couple pickups, I recognize that the "haul dirt" function is incredibly rare for me.  And secondly, having tasted the sweet nectar of full van-hood, I know the joy of having my stuff locked away by default, and protected from elements.
 
Also, specifically, I've been looking for a vehicle I didn't have to care too much aboutOne of the great freedoms that the Tyrannosaurus provided was not worrying about much.  A dent?  Don't care.  Dirty?  Don't care.  Something broken?  If it doesn't stop if from working, don't care.  Like that.
 
The prime target has been used work vans.  Sure, I'd eventually have to add seats if I wanted more than one passenger, but whatever.  The temptation of used minivans was ascendent for a while too - because of the ability to also haul larger groups of people by virtue of stow-and-go seating (in addition to the primary bike-hauling purpose).  And also somewhat greater reliability of Japanese builds.
 
Then I and my array of van-enabling friends noticed kei vans.  They are hilarious!  Oh, but they're way too expensive for my "not caring" budget.
 
Until this "cosmetically challenged" Mitsubishi Minicab popped up online at The Import Guys near Bellingham Washington.  And the rest was a PayPal purchase sight-unseen, a train (and bus) ride to Bellingham, and finally nerve-wracking hip-flexor-straining 95 km/h 6-hour scream down the I5.
 
So, here we are.  Ready to rock.  And ride.<br>
And, yes, the kids lost their damn minds when they saw it.


Was it a wise purchase?  No.<br>
So it goes.
Is it likely to be a memorable experience?  Absolutely, yes.
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=[[2021.03.05 E-Bike Babbling]]=
=[[2022.03.13 A Terrifying Absence of Fury]]=
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Is it so wrong that I just want most of the world to just shut the fuck up and focus, quietly, on why they are so fucking stupid?
 
So, way back before the pandemic, I rode some e-bikes.  I've been curious about electric motor assisted mountain bikes for a while.  That interest, to be clear, is because I spend most of my time riding with people who are both more skilled than I am and in better physical condition.  There had been a running joke that I was "allowed" to get an e-bike when I turned 50 - or if I had some permanent ride-impairing injury.
 
The concept of it being allowable itself come from some stigma that e-bikes have in the mountain biking community.  And I myself had some doubts about whether I should give up the level of effort typically required, for fitness sake.  The way in which I too-often was over-tired grinding up the hill so that I was unable to ride down technical trails cleanly, at least not without an extended period of gasping and draped limply against a tree.  So, the allure, while obvious, has for a while been greater for me than many of my decades-younger-than-I riding crew.
 
The first test ride was an eye-opening revelation full of giggling, and deeply planted seeds of desire.


A second test ride was a more focussed investigation of capabilities, and a goddamn handful of nails in the coffin of my reluctance.
Before this phase, I wrangled philosophically about what is the most effective way to make the world better.  I generally came back to the idea of improving education everywhere - that knowledge would elevate everyone.  Not that we would all agree, or anything as impossible as that.  But just that by every slight increment in understanding collectively would share with everyone a sense of the innate wastefulness of most of our conflict.


Part of the confluence of capability and desire is my riding style, which I sometimes refer to as "aggressively mediocre" and "old man fast"My riding lacks much finesse, so I have gradually leaned towards the full-enduro end of the bike spectrum in order to get enough plushness and stability to accommodate my need for speed and inability to avoid rocksSo not only does the thrust assist help my increasingly feeble ability to climb, but the extra heft of e-bikes doesn't significantly impair any light poppy skillful line choices.
It doesn't bear admitting how I stupidly use to rage at the unfairnesses and inequities, because pretty much all young people doThe idealism is usually blunted down down from cocksure generalities by experiences with complicated realities.   


As a tangent - I have a wee rant about the Specialized Level SL.  It's a low-power small-battery e-bike that is an attempt to be as much like an acoustic trail bike as possible.  It's awful.  If you really want to have a light, playful bike to float down trails... yeah, no.  It's still has a motor and batteries.  But that motor and battery are incapable of creating the same quality of giggles, and of annoying less quantity.
There also appears to be a strong trend for people to idealize what was familiar when they were younger, project from there hurtful justifications as excuses to cling to their revisionist fantasies.


Bada-bing bada-boom - I became the proud owner of the Commencal Meta Power pictured aboveMore, and more specific, riding impressions to comeHopefully soonish.
And I'm just tired of wrangling with all this bullshitIt worries me to reflect on how hopeless I am about humanity having any possibility of tackling global climate change without massive suffering.  Much less face any other challenge on a global scaleWe suck too much as a species, having no apparent appreciation for all that we have to lose.
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=[[2022.03.02 Ukraine]]=
 
=[[2021.01.27 Clearly Not Doing This Right]]=
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The whole point of being all reclusive for the pandemic is to have to find things to do while stuck at home.  Which in my case should have involved a fuck tonne of writing and drawing.
It's been a week of Russia's invasion of Ukraine, and like virtually everybody in the world, I have thoughts and feelings about it.


NOPE.
Firstly, it really does seem like Putin has marinated in his crazy long enough to believe his own bullshit.  For a while it seemed like blustering to distract from the crumbling Russian economy, but the bullshittery rolled on way past just being distracting.  To get people to actively protest in modern Russia is a testament to how fucked up the actions are.  Now it really does just feel like the desperate death throws of a dying husk of a superpower.


My life is pretty full, though, with working from home and having the homeschooling kids during most of the weekdays.  Any time not spent productively being an engineer or parent I while away being a boyfriend.  And I cherish this time, even though there's not much to mark it by.
The bravery of the Ukranian defenders was very moving - the Ghost of Kyiv downing 6 Russian jets, the 13 defenders of Snake Island telling a warship to go fuck itself, the old lady handing sunflower seeds to Russian soldiers and telling them it's so they'll grow when they die, that farmer stealing a Russian tank with his tractor, and President Zelensky being such a ballsy rock of defiant leadership.


Life is good.
And holy shit did I feel humbled when Trevor Noah pointed out the raging racism of the world's reaction to a "white country" facing violence versus what has been done to "other" countries.
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=[[2020.11.27 "Come on guys, it's OK."]]=
=[[2022.02.05 Disillusionment]]=
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"Come on guys, it's OK."
Here I am again, staring down the cold hollow of my ambition.  I'm not really good at giving up, and scheming is part of my core nature, but it is awkward to consider lately. Yes - I do think I would be a good leader; yes - I want to be "in the room where it happens"; yes - access to a higher pay scale and a company Mercedes would be nice.  But the fact that management has de facto told me not to bother trying to be a manager <i>should</i> really be a really strong counter-argument.


A terrible idea occurs to me as I listen to the professional goon begging in the airlockIt is most definitely not OK, and I repress a grin as I slip out my tool kit.
Stubbornly, the plotting mechanisms in my brain keep considering possibilities for "management" to change its collective mindWhich is actually kind of important for me, spiritually, because I enjoy trying really hard on things that are difficult - and without the ambition-class reasoning for it, I fear it would wither into a dull grey existence.  So I haven't officially banished my quiet stirrings of ambition.


There's a reedy inflection in comm that I'm not sure is accurate or affectation"You sure didn't look like things were OK back there."
There are counter-arguments, however.  Firstly, I do legitimately love actually doing engineering, especially 3D CAD design - and managers don't get to do that.  Secondly, there is a tonne more hours expected of an E4 manager, and they are clearly the sphincter of the management beastIt's a hard job.  OK, quandary there - I already put in a tonne of hours, and I actually relish the challenge.  The circumstantial consideration of this should be indexed with facts that the kids are still interesting and present, plus I have a lot of outdoor playing to do with my mountain biking crew, and dialling effort down would also make more time for all the good times with Amy (my Vampire Life Partner).


You could almost hear the goon's shoulder's slump.  "Yeah, it was pretty tense."
This week, I also had renewed insight to even more problems with my managerial ambitions.


"You're, ah, looking pretty zarking unscathedYou knowConsidering."
While I firmly believe I am a great team player and dynamic contributor, I definitely lack much ability to "play the game".  The game being to earn management's trust, and as open communicator I am often perceived as being challenging.  Years of me helpfully suggesting progressive ideas that the company is structurally impaired to consider has me brightly marked as a problemTo change this would require, well, not being meTough one, that.


"...Yeah.  I don't know how I'm not dead."
There's also the reality that much of the "management" side of the E4 job is painfully tedious administriviaA budget meeting this week where I was sitting in for my recovering-from-brain-surgery boss highlighted how very much it's more reassuring storytelling than it is useful planning.
 
This pause in the conversation sure sounds like other people conversing off-circuit.  I wonder if it's accessible...
 
"Guys....?"  Ooop, sounds like the goon is thinking the same thing as me.
 
"Just hang on a moment, Garvek." Ah, goon's name is GarvekOr, at least that's what the reedy-voice being calls the goon.  Might not be a reliable source.
 
"Not to be too pushy, guys, but I think we should get out of here before my luck catches up with us."
 
Oh, I think they're over there...
 
"...and it's bad for recruiting if we just ditch a crewman."  Don't recognize that voice.
 
"Recruiting?  Are you zarking with me?  Potential security personnel on another planet aren't going to give a flying zark about what happened to this idiot."  Well, at least reedy-voice is just as unpleasant with others, and not just poor Garvek.
 
"For any old lump of cannon-fodder while we're still making a name for ourselves, sure.  But once we start needing really top-notch people, this sort of shit will stain us for a long-ass time to come."  Hm.  I think I like this guy.
 
"Shut the zark up, Krunks."  Ouch.  Someone knows they're wrong.  Wonder if Krunks is going to stuff a fistful of righteous insight down Reedy-Voice's throat...
 
"As you wish, captain."  Disappointing, but I guess I don't know the circumstances here.
 
"Orders?"  That's a third voice, reptilian, who sounds like they were having trouble with the awkward pause.
 
"Gah!  Let the impossibly-lucky goon in."
 
There might have been a grunting noise, but immediately afterwards we can feel and hear the heavy ship bulkhead door cycle.  I wish we could get a peek into that big central corridor...
 
<pre>...in process...</pre>


Lastly, due to the gravity of it, is the hard truth that management is where a lot of assholes are.  Not that I'm entirely against assholes - I've been one myself more than I wish I had.  And there are definitely assholes everywhere - or, more correctly, people willing to act in assholish ways.  But the problem is that acting like an asshole is actually a successful management technique (from a career-observational standpoint, not a holistic one).  That philosophical argument can linger seductively, but my point is more about how much one has to interface with assholes.
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=[[2020.11.27 Time Machine]]=
=[[2022.01.11 Night Shift]]=
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Hello future-Simon and future-Violet when you're (a bit) older and reading stuff your dad wrote to find out what he was like outside of the interactions that formed your memories.
One of the odd rhythms of life now is interfacing with Amy working night shift.  It means some long overlaps of time together, but also a chance for some intervening solitude.  It has also provided for some reflection.


Well, life is really fucking¹ good, honestlyIt's horrific to think that maybe it takes 9 months of hiding during a pandemic and almost 4 years of racist/fascist Tumpocalypse to really appreciate where I am and what I haveI like to think I would be thankful anyway, because I'm insightful and zen... but whatever.
I've worked night shift before, myselfNot just the gruelling all-nighters that were too common during engineering school, but shifts labouring in the pulp mill at my home town while I was saving up for schoolAll of which completely failed to help me be empathic about the struggles of shifting sleeping schedules, because it mostly happened in a period of my life when sleep seemed largely optional anyway.


Being able to hole up with you two for homeschooling in our airy little condo is just fantastic.  I love this time with you, and will cherish it always.  You are both adapting and overcoming this strange time better than I could possibly have hoped.
More tellingly is how I have found myself smothering the kids when they're here, to keep them from disturbing Amy while she (might be) sleepingDiscussing my overenthusiastic guarding of Amy's sleep sanctorum, I unearthed the memory of my dad working shift work while I was a kid.  He worked hard, and it definitely resonated with me as a sensitive little kid to be worried about my dad's wellbeing.


Hearing you giggle while you melt your brains with youtube videos is one of my favourite sounds everHaving you joining Amy, my Vampire Queen girlfriend in her anti-running rebellion was also amusing, but going for our group PE runs feeds my soul.  And the best part of getting a robotic vacuum wasn't the automatic floor cleaning, but sharing your delight with watching it charge slowly about and piling your stuffed toys on it.
Ironically, this cascaded to a memory of a time when I did accidentally waken my dad while he was trying to sleep between night shifts.  I had stumbled into the door of home in Castlegar after school, desperate to look at my wristwatchA wristwatch that I had not on my wrist, but in my pocket, because that's where I stuffed it after picking it up off the street.  Which is where I had to retrieve it from hurriedly, lest the kids that were chasing me managed to catch me.  And it had only flown off my wrist because I had swung my arm to break free from one of the kids grabbing at my backpack.  So when I finally managed to get home, and discovered that my wristwatch that was a gift from my dad, was broken in a way I couldn't fix, I let out a scream of frustration.  This woke my dad, but instead of being angry with me for disturbing him he was worried about me.  And even then, I could bring myself to tell him that I was being systematically bullied at school - for fear that he would be disappointed in me for not being tougher.


I've just gotten a new mountain bike, this time with an electric motorWhich I'm looking forward to using to tow Simon on his mountain bike up the hill once the weather gets nicer.
One of the things I have found myself doing at night, though, is writeSo, here we are.
 
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Oh, and the hilariously annoying VAN, Volkswagen, snotty Volkswagen, and I-can't-believe-it's-not-a-van game everywhere we go these days.
 
And it's so fun for me to watch the new episodes of The Mandalorian with you.  You both make great little nerds.


You probably saw bits of my work during this time, and mostly just saw me as being stressed by it.  Especially all the meetings.  But you should also know that I really love developing all these new truck systems and mentoring new engineers.  Plus also helping out with the new electric trucks, and the autonomous truck project.  Being fulfilled by work is a satisfaction that I hope I can model for you well, so that you can find it for yourselves.
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¹ <small>Yeah, you probably remember that your dad swore a fair amount.  But he liked to think it was just nicely seasoned for emphasis, even though you thought it was too much at the time.</small>
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=[[2020.11.13 United States of Assholes]]=
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The deep and profound relief at the (eventual) election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris is thankfully still salving the past four years of horror.  Emotional, philosophical, spiritual, pragmatic utilitarian horror.  But the gestalt horror is not forgotten.  And, worse, the visceral terror of the implications of the numbers of the election cannot be un-discovered.
People looking at the title of this post might be triggered, classifying this as just more of Clayton's typical pro-Canada elitism finding an opportunity to gloat.  And it's a fair comment.  But the United States really is magnificent, and Portland in particular is full of all kinds of awesome.  I've been here for almost 2 decades now, and have a lot of important roots, and that deepens how significant what goes on in the US is to me.
With that in mind, the fact that about 70 million people voted for Donald Trump in 2020 is... sad.
Even acknowledging the extreme polarization, it still means that almost twice the population of Canada worth of people were willing to at least "put up with" a fascist racist lying failure of a president.  And why would they do this?  Well, last month I speculated that it functionally makes them bad people - but virtually nobody does anything with the specific intent to be bad people (Mitch McConnell excepted).
I think the reason comes down to how the US is systemically structured to facilitate assholes.
It has gotten better over the centuries, but fundamentally it's still about harnessing the power of assholes.  It's not that everyone in the US is an asshole, or that only assholes thrive.  It's more that being an asshole is a distinct advantage in most aspects of living in the US.  And even further, the pitting of people's stoked avarice against each other allows for considerable achievements.  It just so happens that those achievements are usually at considerable human expense.  This every-asshole-for-themself individualism was key for expanding through a wild continent.  But it is now very much out of step for the interests of living with ourselves in civilization.
The divide politically is most obviously displayed with the geographical results - urban versus rural.  Many of the conservative people I know all have worries about reality where the only solution they can conceive of is raw independent self-sufficiency.  Even when I snarkily suggest adjusting shared societal factors to eradicate the selfsame problems.  However they insist such ideas are impossible - because there are too many assholes.  Which, inevitably, means that they have to pre-asshole to out-asshole the hypothetical assholes. 
The trouble with assholes, aside from the inherent assholery, is the tendency to assume that everyone else is an asshole too.  Perhaps more than just a tendency for some, but a full blown paranoia that the world is stuffed full of dicks out to fuck the unwary.  This causes them to forgive all sorts of crazy shit for the purpose of supporting political forces they think will be the right kind of assholery.
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Some people need to find the edges of things, instead of assuming what they might beI like your style.
So, good job on the scrolling.  Sadly the secret message at the end this time is... filler.  There, I said it: the cool [https://waitbutwhy.com/ turtle-link-class] zen morsel I try to work into the end just isn't up to snuff this timeSorry.
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Revision as of 04:10, 9 August 2022

claytoncastle.com



2022.08.08 Wee Vanless

Sold the kei-class Mitsubishi Minicab Bravo today.

It's possible that it is actually a victim of its own success. The nominal purpose of the wee van was to haul mountain bikes, and if getting to ride in the wee van meant riding mountain bikes, both of my kids wanted in on the action. Unfortunately, the wee van only has room for 2 people + 2 bikes. So the wee van just isn't big enough to carry us all.

Plus there is the small difficulty with travelling at freeway speeds. And a total lack of safety equipment. And an inability to start in cold weather. And a lack of basic creature comforts.

Anyway, there needs to be a replacement crappy van to suit the increased crew + cargo requirements. The hunt begins now for Project: DEATH BOX.


2022.07.30 München VS Portland

I really like Portland. Lots of fun people, great food, and ready access to outdoor fun. But there are definitely two things that Munich Germany does so well that it makes me wish there was some way to import to where I live.

First: the subway system. It's goddamn magical, how well-integrated it is and magnificently run. Unfortunately, to have such a thing in Portland would involve an order of magnitude more investment than what we already struggle with to make our half-assed MAX system run. But I really do think that if we had something as fundamentally wonderful as das Münchner U-Bahn-System, we Portlanders would find the value in it.

Second: German drivers in general. Aggressive but capable. More than a few assholes, to be sure, but at least they're gone fast. My very first driving experience back in Portland was an enraging reminder of how fucking unskilled and oblivious Portland drivers are. Not really anything to be done easily about that either.


2022.07.17 Joys Of Home Ownership

Amy and I love our house, because of how perfectly it fits us and the kids, with a great walkable neighborhood, and a huge list of facets that make it lovely. Except, as every homeowner knows, houses are not static entities - they're a constant grind of repairs and improvements fighting against the endless tide of entropy. And when we bought The Battery (nickname brought to you by a dubious concatenation of initials) there was one big upgrade we intended to do: solar panels.

It took a little while to arrange, but we settled on the Tesla solar system with a powerwall battery backup for the house (and a grateful nod to the federal 10k$ tax rebate to make it happen). Significant delays were incurred as we waited for planning and approvals, but finally we had the system installed! Except, not yet commissioned because it needs final inspection for powering up by PGE (our local power utility). Annoyingly, PGE never got around to upgrading our service meter to allow for 2-way power delivery, but the resourceful installers at Tesla installed a parallel meter system that should work. However, this required completely re-wiring our breaker box - and it got pretty cramped. Still, everything worked just fine - or so it seemed.

A couple days later, apparently some yahoo crashed into a power pole a couple blocks away. This knocked power out for the neighbourhood, but also sent a power bump at the same time. The powerwall tried to cover for the lost power, but encountered problems. The problem became clear when the main power came back on later that day - three of our circuit breakers were unable to be reset. Along with it we were down the section of the house that powered the internet modem, our furnace controller, and dishwasher.

Some frantic calls to Tesla later, we were told they would get to us as soon as possible - after the weekend. So we limped through a warm weekend without AC, washing dishes by hand, and running an extension cord to power the modem. Monday came, and they verified that the breakers themselves needed replacement. But they could not get parts until the next day - but they could re-purpose one of the working breakers to run whichever circuit was needed to make the HVAC work again. So by trial and error it was determined that it was... none of them. Something else was wrong with the HVAC, and the dishwasher.

After the technicians left, we did some frantic research on what could be amiss. Everything we could find was fine - breaker on, reset switch reset, circuit board fuse was fine. So thought we had deduced that we had fried our smart thermostat controller. I rolled to the only store locally claiming to have the same model, so that I could just plug-and-play a replacement, and they didn't have one. They did have an upgraded version, though that required re-wiring the controls. Screw it - whatever. Bought it, installed it. Still didn't work.

We hoped that it was a combination of a fried control unit AND an unpowered circuit. Those hopes ended when the Tesla technicians showed up bright and early and replaced power to the whole house. Still no joy for the HVAC, or the dishwasher. They were not really permitted to do anything beyond the power distribution system, but did us the favour of testing the high-voltage fuses for the AC - which turned out to be blown.

So we went to an electrical supply store to purchase some replacement shotgun-shell-sized fuses. And the HVAC still didn't work. So we were left with having to call HVAC technicians, and the earliest available appointment was two weeks out.

-sigh-

Luckily, Pyramid Heating & Cooling called a couple days later to say that they had a cancellation, and they could come immediately. Well, not immediately - because it was the afternoon and since our furnace is in the attic it would be horrific. But they did swap us with another customer the very next morning.

In the meantime, we got to work on the dishwasher, with the working assumption that it had a fuse of some kind that was also borked. So we disconnected it and pulled it out to find that it has no such protection feature. Time for a new dishwasher. Which was fetched in the uber-charming wee van, to the delight of the Home Despot workers who helped us get it. Which in itself is a minor miracle, because it turns out that Home Depot doesn't stock appliances - except that happened to have accidentally been shipped the exact one we wanted. Which was fun. Brought it home, installed it, and it works great.

Pyramid technician shows up and listens to our tale of woe. He said, "I have an idea". A few minutes later, "YEP - your transformer got burned out." Replaced it handily, and our HVAC comes to life and was working great. The feeling of relief was a welcome change.

...

Which lasted for a few days. Then yesterday we noted that the AC was not actually able to cool the house. We futzed with sensors and settings, but the awkward truth is that it is running the AC and the blower fan and we're getting an insufficiently-cool draft.

Time for another call to Pyramid. When they open on Monday. GAH.


2022.07.10 Missing My Little Vampire Slayers

This was the first week of vacation, which I'm taking in alternating weeks while I've got the kiddos. And we got to spend all of it doing all the things as well as lots of down time. Bike riding, D&D, walks to the park, playing Magic, learning Python, beach trip, yardwork, and lots of naps.

The week was somewhat impaired by a power bump and outage that revealed a flaw in our newly-installed solar+battery system (not yet commissioned) which left part of the house without power - so we've had to improvise powering the internet, be mindful of regulating the house temperature with airflow, and washing lots of dishes by hand.

The crescendo of the week was last night - as the Spice Girls (the party name for the D&D characters) stumbled upon the secret base of a vampire pirate ship. In its entirety, the Pale Prow with its vampire spawn crew and its elven-vampire captain would have been wildly overpowered for the Spice Girls. But they happened to poke them before sunset proper, which allowed them to face the crew separately from the master, and with a couple Daylight™ spells was enough to let them prevail.

We perhaps ran a little too late, but fuck it - it's summer time and they would be stuck in a car all day on a trip to Canada with S. They get to camp in a fun tent trailer, but are completely insistent that they can't do it because of the impossibility of being civilized to each other. I struggled with how to ease this ridiculous impasse, and ended up outraging Simon by belittling the difficulty. Here's hoping he gets to sleep in the car.

And now they're gone for a week. And I'm am heartbroken. I just immediately miss them a ridiculous amount. I can't wait for our next week off together.

It really puts the foolish work anxiety in to context.


2022.06.15 Waiting For The Robots

With a really cool science-fiction sounding title like that, you're probably expecting another AIF tale. Or at least perhaps another nerdy chunk of fiction, as I am supposed to be practicing producing.

Except, nope. It is literally what I'm doing. At 20:30 every night, the floor cleaning robots start their sweep of the kitchen and dining room. The vacuum isn't too noisy, but it's enough noise to make it difficult for my tinnitus-filled old man ears to hear tv shows. So when I settle down to contemplate what to do with the rest of an evening, I check to see how long until the robots are unleashed to figure out if I can binge a quick episode of something - either something fun with Amy, or something cute with the kids, or something horrifying by myself when the other two options aren't available or inclined.

But... there's not quite enough time this evening for that. So I thought I'd retreat to having a bath and reading a book. Then the thought flitted into my head, "shouldn't I be trying to write something?"

And, well, yes - I should. So I gave myself the window of "until the robots start rampaging" to see what I could come up with. Et voilà. Here we are.

This was going to turn into an awkward section of "well, I did the thing, but I'm not out of time yet". But luckily the kids started fighting, and Charlie is scratching at the door needing tribute. So that's run out the clock. Cheers.

2022.05.28 Gun Safety?

The whole country is still just calming down from another massively horrific school shooting - "nothing could prevent this, says only country in the world where this regularly happens".

Aside: that is the classic The Onion news headline that they used to post every time one of these happened. I wondered if they still do that. Um, I didn't find it, but I found some relevant gold:

  • Scientists Discover 90% Of Earth’s Atmosphere Made From Thoughts, Prayers
  • Tearful Uvalde Residents Thank Police For Protecting Parking Lot From Gunman
  • Entire U.S. Police Force Flees Country After Hearing Gunman Inside Nation
  • NRA Convention Applauds As Gunman Massacres Entire Crowd
  • Wayne LaPierre States Mass Shootings Can Be Perfectly Safe When Carried Out By A Trained, Responsible Gun Owner
  • The Pros And Cons Of Letting Children Die

It is true to say that I'm still fuming over the idea that a fucking SWAT team stood around for almost an hour during the rampage "because they were worried about getting shot". It really goes to the cowardly, spineless posturing that is the heart of gun advocacy. The whole "good guys versus bad guys" is such bullshit - it's all just "assholes".

Moving on, though, this outrage is entirely too familiar. And we know from bitter experience that this by itself is simply not enough to persuade the political will in 'Merika to enact sensible gun control laws. Every other country in the world is able to do it, but we can't in the US because... we suck.

So, clearly it's time to try something else. And that something else that I hear people discussing is systematic gun safety. The selfsame second amendment which has been twisted into this horror show clearly admonishes it be "well-regulated".

The need to have licences is just the obvious beginning. Much more important is the express assertions of the full force of the US legal system to enact financial consequences - letting people be sued for the pain and destruction of the effects of firearms. And, as has been idiotically established, companies are effectively people. Gun manufacturers should have their financial culpability considered for facilitating citizen-on-citizen violence. Individuals should be driven towards needing insurance proportional to the potential destructive power of their toys (like we already do with cars) as they become directly responsible for what those toys are used for. People become responsible for children under their care - and what they do with the things they sell them.

2022.05.14 Automotive Meta-Analysis

For many years, I've often joked that the vehicle you drive says a lot about you. As much as I hate to ascribe too much merit to stereotypes, and readily agree that general use of stereotypes is a bad thing, there are still clearly messages being sent. These messages need not accurately reflect the owner/driver of a vehicle, but they remain complicit in them nonetheless. Like the clothing we wear, even if we don't intend to have a meta message, it's still like the tag line of a political ad: "I support this message".

Turns out there's a few self-burns in here.


2022.05.05 Cinco De Covid

Tuesday night I had an oddly scratchy throat, and Wednesday morning it was still there so I did a quick COVID test while I readied my stuff to bike into the office - and the damn thing came up positive.

While I did work remotely somewhat on Wednesday, I took it easy. Today I'm still without fever, but I am definitely ill. Fortunately, I am fully vaccinated and boosted, so it's not likely to become anything more than annoying flu-like symptoms.

The urge is to write something cutesy-poignant about finally meeting the global pandemic up close and personal, but it's way too late for that. The world has changed, but it's also grown weary of this bullshit. And it's hard to focus on these now-mundane global catastrophes with fresh horrors being summoned by human shittiness.


2022.05.04 May The Fourth Be With You

What I used to do was write regularly, with the conceit that I had potential to get good at it. And my visual creativity was overflowing with ideas after decades of collaborative storytelling with my comrades. As I went along, the catharsis of expressing myself became important by itself. It started feeling like craft.

Which, I suspect, is when I started making excuses to be critical of my own work. So my budding capability for writing has suffered the same fate as my drawing: me poking at it fondly, but not really following through with most ideas.

The rare exceptions keep me wistfully thinking about it, though.

The drawing is a less-dear skill to put down and occasionally pick back up simply because I get so much satisfaction from drawing-like work as an engineer. And, frankly, the fantasy of becoming a comic artist is not the shining hope it was when I was a kid. But being an author, however...

...that continues to flicker seductively to my career-frustrated moth mind.


2022.04.16 Apathy

I've been wallowing in that place where I know that I need to be writing, and want to make progress on a couple stories, but seem to always run out of time. And it's clearly true that my life is very busy these days, packed full of work and parenting and a life with my vampire life partner. Yet it's also true that when I do dig out some time to recuperate, I let myself vegetate online.

So it goes.


2022.03.13 A Terrifying Absence of Fury

Is it so wrong that I just want most of the world to just shut the fuck up and focus, quietly, on why they are so fucking stupid?

Before this phase, I wrangled philosophically about what is the most effective way to make the world better. I generally came back to the idea of improving education everywhere - that knowledge would elevate everyone. Not that we would all agree, or anything as impossible as that. But just that by every slight increment in understanding collectively would share with everyone a sense of the innate wastefulness of most of our conflict.

It doesn't bear admitting how I stupidly use to rage at the unfairnesses and inequities, because pretty much all young people do. The idealism is usually blunted down down from cocksure generalities by experiences with complicated realities.

There also appears to be a strong trend for people to idealize what was familiar when they were younger, project from there hurtful justifications as excuses to cling to their revisionist fantasies.

And I'm just tired of wrangling with all this bullshit. It worries me to reflect on how hopeless I am about humanity having any possibility of tackling global climate change without massive suffering. Much less face any other challenge on a global scale. We suck too much as a species, having no apparent appreciation for all that we have to lose.

2022.03.02 Ukraine

It's been a week of Russia's invasion of Ukraine, and like virtually everybody in the world, I have thoughts and feelings about it.

Firstly, it really does seem like Putin has marinated in his crazy long enough to believe his own bullshit. For a while it seemed like blustering to distract from the crumbling Russian economy, but the bullshittery rolled on way past just being distracting. To get people to actively protest in modern Russia is a testament to how fucked up the actions are. Now it really does just feel like the desperate death throws of a dying husk of a superpower.

The bravery of the Ukranian defenders was very moving - the Ghost of Kyiv downing 6 Russian jets, the 13 defenders of Snake Island telling a warship to go fuck itself, the old lady handing sunflower seeds to Russian soldiers and telling them it's so they'll grow when they die, that farmer stealing a Russian tank with his tractor, and President Zelensky being such a ballsy rock of defiant leadership.

And holy shit did I feel humbled when Trevor Noah pointed out the raging racism of the world's reaction to a "white country" facing violence versus what has been done to "other" countries.


2022.02.05 Disillusionment

Here I am again, staring down the cold hollow of my ambition. I'm not really good at giving up, and scheming is part of my core nature, but it is awkward to consider lately. Yes - I do think I would be a good leader; yes - I want to be "in the room where it happens"; yes - access to a higher pay scale and a company Mercedes would be nice. But the fact that management has de facto told me not to bother trying to be a manager should really be a really strong counter-argument.

Stubbornly, the plotting mechanisms in my brain keep considering possibilities for "management" to change its collective mind. Which is actually kind of important for me, spiritually, because I enjoy trying really hard on things that are difficult - and without the ambition-class reasoning for it, I fear it would wither into a dull grey existence. So I haven't officially banished my quiet stirrings of ambition.

There are counter-arguments, however. Firstly, I do legitimately love actually doing engineering, especially 3D CAD design - and managers don't get to do that. Secondly, there is a tonne more hours expected of an E4 manager, and they are clearly the sphincter of the management beast. It's a hard job. OK, quandary there - I already put in a tonne of hours, and I actually relish the challenge. The circumstantial consideration of this should be indexed with facts that the kids are still interesting and present, plus I have a lot of outdoor playing to do with my mountain biking crew, and dialling effort down would also make more time for all the good times with Amy (my Vampire Life Partner).

This week, I also had renewed insight to even more problems with my managerial ambitions.

While I firmly believe I am a great team player and dynamic contributor, I definitely lack much ability to "play the game". The game being to earn management's trust, and as open communicator I am often perceived as being challenging. Years of me helpfully suggesting progressive ideas that the company is structurally impaired to consider has me brightly marked as a problem. To change this would require, well, not being me. Tough one, that.

There's also the reality that much of the "management" side of the E4 job is painfully tedious administrivia. A budget meeting this week where I was sitting in for my recovering-from-brain-surgery boss highlighted how very much it's more reassuring storytelling than it is useful planning.

Lastly, due to the gravity of it, is the hard truth that management is where a lot of assholes are. Not that I'm entirely against assholes - I've been one myself more than I wish I had. And there are definitely assholes everywhere - or, more correctly, people willing to act in assholish ways. But the problem is that acting like an asshole is actually a successful management technique (from a career-observational standpoint, not a holistic one). That philosophical argument can linger seductively, but my point is more about how much one has to interface with assholes.


2022.01.11 Night Shift

One of the odd rhythms of life now is interfacing with Amy working night shift. It means some long overlaps of time together, but also a chance for some intervening solitude. It has also provided for some reflection.

I've worked night shift before, myself. Not just the gruelling all-nighters that were too common during engineering school, but shifts labouring in the pulp mill at my home town while I was saving up for school. All of which completely failed to help me be empathic about the struggles of shifting sleeping schedules, because it mostly happened in a period of my life when sleep seemed largely optional anyway.

More tellingly is how I have found myself smothering the kids when they're here, to keep them from disturbing Amy while she (might be) sleeping. Discussing my overenthusiastic guarding of Amy's sleep sanctorum, I unearthed the memory of my dad working shift work while I was a kid. He worked hard, and it definitely resonated with me as a sensitive little kid to be worried about my dad's wellbeing.

Ironically, this cascaded to a memory of a time when I did accidentally waken my dad while he was trying to sleep between night shifts. I had stumbled into the door of home in Castlegar after school, desperate to look at my wristwatch. A wristwatch that I had not on my wrist, but in my pocket, because that's where I stuffed it after picking it up off the street. Which is where I had to retrieve it from hurriedly, lest the kids that were chasing me managed to catch me. And it had only flown off my wrist because I had swung my arm to break free from one of the kids grabbing at my backpack. So when I finally managed to get home, and discovered that my wristwatch that was a gift from my dad, was broken in a way I couldn't fix, I let out a scream of frustration. This woke my dad, but instead of being angry with me for disturbing him he was worried about me. And even then, I could bring myself to tell him that I was being systematically bullied at school - for fear that he would be disappointed in me for not being tougher.

One of the things I have found myself doing at night, though, is write. So, here we are.













































































































So, good job on the scrolling. Sadly the secret message at the end this time is... filler. There, I said it: the cool turtle-link-class zen morsel I try to work into the end just isn't up to snuff this time. Sorry.