Holidailies asks, "Describe your best or worst memory from 2008."

Best is pretty easy. It would have to have been the trip I took to the Bay Area this past spring. I went to see a concert, but was also treated to great food, hung out with great friends, and also went to Alcatraz Island, which was pretty amazing.

Worst is less easy. I try to forget the bad stuff. Hmm, let’s see. There were a couple of times that I was expected to provide exceptional customer service (read: work all night) dealing with technology infrastructure failures that could have been addressed had the powers that be not been so embarrasingly cheap. But I must say that my very worst memory of 2008 happened during Comic-Con when I accidentaly annoyed my neighbors by talking during a panel. I’m sorry. I thought that it was over, but I was quite mistaken, as one rude— but politely rude— neighbor was quick to point out. Now that I think about it, perhaps I should just say that my worst memory of 2008 is of all the people that were quick to be "politely rude" to me whenever I made any sort of faux pas. For example, there was the gentleman who sneered "You’re welcome" to me and my guest as we exited a restaurant. Then again, there was no shortage of traditionally rude folks— all of the bad drivers, the people who talk during movies, and that one guy that interrupted my work so that he could make me stand and wait while he made a cell call. Perhaps my worst memory of 2008 should be of all the rude people running around that year, including (and I admit it) myself, on occasion, unintentionally.

Well, here’s to a more considerate and less uptight populace in 2009.

With just over 24 hours left in 2008, I thought it would be an appropriate time to look back and reflect on the year. Suddenly, a fantastic idea spontaneously occurred to me from the blue with no outside input whatsoever. What better way to to reflect on the past year, I thought, than by highlighting my most memorable or interesting posts of said year? Brilliant! Actually, that’s a just a wee bit of a fib. In fact, I stole the idea in its entirety from Dead Robot. You know what they say, "Good artists borrow, but great artists steal." Nevertheless, let the highlighting commence!

January

January’s winner is Faulty Analogies, in which I compare Windows and Linux to rooms in a house. I didn’t mention MacOS, but this was only because I’m not all that familiar with it. Would it be the home theater room, perhaps?

February

After careful consideration, I chose February’s winner based on coolness (read: robot factor.) Man From Mars  was about a photo of an Iron Giant promotional action figure that I took for a Photogamer challenge.

March

March’s clear winner is Breaking the Blogatorium, in which a poor, unsuspecting chain questionnaire is subjected to some well-deserved mockery.

April

April was the month of Letters, and as such provided many fine candidates. After careful consideration, I find I have no choice but to name An Open Letter To Noisy Eaters as April’s big winner. Noisy eaters drive me completely bonkers, as the letter clearly shows.

Honorable Mention: On the Evolution of Robotkind on its overwhelming robot factor.

May

May’s award goes to Weee? in which I shared my first impressions of the Wii and its various games.

Honorable Mention: Don’t Mosh Without It! Heavy Metal plus dangerous toys? What could possibly go wrong?

June

Friday the Memeteenth showed that I believe that one should be prepared for anything, or at least I like to talk about being prepared for anything.

July

July’s award goes to Crispy® Bacon on Lumpy Sandwiches, a contemplation of the sins of sandwichcraft.

August

August’s winning post is the one in which I discovered a Blog Excuse Generator. 

September

September’s award goes to OMG HAXORS! in which I ponder the way in which words change their meanings, and then go on to make a pun or two.

October

In October, I wrote An Open Letter to the Voters of California in which I attempted to reason with the voters of California to vote No on Propositon 8.

Honorable Mention: My Evil Plan to destroy the Earth by sabotaging the moon.

November

When October’s open letter failed to achieve the desired effect, I wrote a post In Which A Thanksgiving Season Rumination Goes Horribly Wrong 

Honorable Mention: Stupid Friday, in which another chain questionnaire is found wanting.

December

Project Weather Dominator attempted to identify the ideal winter holiday weather.

Honorable Mention: Wah Wah Wah for "most original sneering while suffering a cold."

Now Reading: Magic Kingdom For Sale– Sold!, by Terry Brooks.

Just Finished: Silicon Dreams, by Greenberg and Segriff.

When in doubt about what to read next, I try to reach for an anthology of short stories. The less interesting stories can be endured briefly or even skipped entirely without fear of missing a detail that may be important later in the book. Although it is possible that a good editor may be selecting and arranging the stories with an eye toward comparing and contrasting, or to elaborate upon a running theme, I like to think that such an editor would not choose stories so excruciatingly dull (or poorly written) that I would skip any of them. Of the stories in this volume, the most memorable to me were "Freddy Nearby," in which a man purchases a robot hairdresser that is programmed to kill; "Keepers of Earth," which was sort of a darker version of Wall-E; and "Take Two," which takes the idea of automated production to an extreme. While the collection was thought provoking, it was not remarkably so, but it did keep me entertained at the laundromat and on the airplane.

Here’s the story. I traveled for Christmas. I went to the Sierras. I was going to use my Bluetooth trick to stay online, but that didn’t quite work. I was staying on the outskirts of town where the cell signal was weak to begin with. On top of that, the building that I was in was basically a giant Faraday cage. I was in a giant dead zone, but without a cast of oddball characters to warn me away. ("The towels are scratchy! And the yard has crabgrass!") I did find a place that had a sketchy WiFi signal, but I didn’t want to stay there too long, so I didn’t.

Anyway, I did not get my wish for a Christmas fogstorm. Instead, I got the old White Christmas treatment.

dayafter

The next day, I almost went spelunking. Unfortunately, the trip was not as well planned as it should have been and the place was closed by the time we got there. As a consolation prize, I was taken this morning to a gigantic sporting goods store that featured not only an electronic shooting range and a Ferris Wheel, but also a Hall of Presidents type of exhibit.

Lincoln

I didn’t really get a chance to get a full overview of the place’s wares, as I had to go catch my flight. The airport was being remodeled, and as a result, an unusual poster had been posted in a couple of places.

So...

There are plenty of places where a beefy construction worker waving a wand wouldn’t look out of place. Maybe for my next vacation, I’ll go somewhere like that.

Yesterday, I concluded that a fogstorm would be my ideal holiday weather forecast. Today, I realized that "clear with a chance of monsters" could also have a certain appeal…

Monster Christmas

Holidailies asks, "What’s your ideal holiday weather report?"

I’d say my ideal report is that a storm of some sort is coming in. Hear me out. Not a raging destructive typhoon, of course, but just something that reminds you that it’s there, and that the place you want to be is inside. Something that sighs through the trees and pitter-pats on the roof and windows. While rain would the bill, it tends to make things soggy and muddy after a few hours. Roads in particular could become quite treacherous. Guests, assuming they arrived safely, would do so in a damp and disheveled state. So rain would not be my first choice.

How about snow, then? No, it’s such a cliche that I am compelled to dismiss it. In fact, not only do I dismiss real snow, I dismiss any depictions or simulations of snow in a non-snowing climate. It just looks out of place. If you’re assembling a winter-themed display and a girl asks you why there’s coconut all over everything, snow should not be a part of your holiday decor. Poinsettias, holly, mistletoe? Great. Candy canes, nutcrackers, and trains? Fantastic. Angels, wise men and mangers? Fine. Fur socks? You’re pushing it. Snowmen? Nope.

Then there are the hybrid forms of precipitation, sleet and hail, both of which combine the worst qualities of rain and snow. Both are generally disagreeable. While hail would give the nice pitter-pat, falling ice pellets tend to cause a lot of damage. As for sleet, even I don’t like the idea of slush falling from the sky. Unless it were flavored. But no, then we would have a sticky mess outside instead of just a muddy mess. And could you imagine the ant problem there would be afterward?

There is one more option— fog. I think fog might be ideal. Although, like snow, fog lacks the audible reminder that rain brings, but like snow, it can have the same dampening, hushing effect on the world. Unlike snow, there’s no plowing or other cleanup. Like rain, it can make driving treacherous if thick enough, but unlike rain, guests won’t arrive soaked and disheveled. Unlike rain, children can be sent outside to play in it, but unlike snow, they probably won’t be making fogmen or throwing fogballs. But if they do, two words: YouTube.

Now Reading: Silicon Dreams, by Greenberg and Segriff.

Just Finished: Circuit of Heaven, by Dennis Danvers.

I liked this book, with some reservations, which I’ll get to later. It was a story of what happens when humanity gets the choice to live forever as data in a simulation of a perfect world, or to live and die in an empty, post-apocalyptic wasteland. In this way, it reminded me of But What Of Earth, though in that book, humanity was leaving Earth to colonize the galaxy, not to live in a dream world. It also reminded me of Diaspora, though in that book, humanity went on to explore the universe and beyond, despite having been digitized.

As for the reservations? Well, I figured out fairly early on the true nature of the heroine. I also had a pretty good idea of exactly where the story was going to go. While this didn’t ruin the story for me, it did make me a bit impatient with the author for dragging it out for so long. Let me put it another way. I lent a friend of mine my copy of Corum: The Coming Of Chaos, a book I’d read back in high school. While my friend enjoyed the book, he had an interesting observation about it. It seemed to him that storytelling styles had changed over the past thirty years, that in one chapter, Corum would talk to a king, then sail a boat, then kill a monster, then kill the king. A more modern series would take quite a bit longer than one chapter to tell the same story. Now, it’s possible that all my friend really noticed was the difference in storytelling styles between Michael Moorcock and, oh, I don’t know, Terry Goodkind. But I think that Circuit of Heaven is an excellent example of someone taking a long time to tell a short story.

Where did the time go this week? It seems like just yesterday, it was Monday. Now, it’s practially Saturday. I suppose I can attribute this to holiday obligations, gift-making, travel preparation, et cetera. Sigh. At any rate, it’s now Friday, the day upon which I would normally do something memetic. But it appears that my bluff has been called and I am now honor bound to write a sour and misanthropic description of what I had for lunch. Well, so be it.

Did you know that it’s rained every other day this week? Big deal, some of you might now be saying, In my neighborhood, it’s twenty below with the wind-chill factor. You have my carefully crafted semblance of sympathies. And yet, I imagine that your neighbors know how to deal with weather. Here, we have one sort of weather. When that goes away, people panic. They don’t usually panic for too long, since the rain or whatever usually only lasts for two to three hours. It does not, as a rule, last for an entire day.

Apparently, our fine civil engineers haven’t even considered that possibility since the late Forties, since the streets were seething with water. Let me tell you that San Diegans don’t know how to drive when the road is slightly dampened by a heavy fog. So you can imagine the sort of havok that was wrought when water flowed down the asphalt like a river.

As for what I had for lunch, I vaguely remember that I ate at a Chinese chain restaurant. The food itself was unremarkable, but for some reason this particular eatery always seems to be out of trays. I’m therefore expected to carry a floppy paper plate full of saucy food in one hand, and a drink, fortune cookie, fork and napkin in the other. Humph. I’ve just lost all faith in humanity. (That there was your sourness and misanthropy, unless I’m mistaken.)

Join us again tomorrow, when I either complain bitterly about holiday parties or warmly endorse something else entirely.

A study suggests that installing blue street lights may reduce crime rates and suicide attempts. Though there are figures to support the correlation, we should not jump to any hasty conclusion about causation. That having been said, I find the weird amber light of sodium lamps to be unpleasant and depressing. Let’s get rid of them once and for all!

Dear Santa, I want a water jet machine! And a 3-D Printer! And I want to put them in a secret room behind a secret door bookshelf! Or if that’s asking for too much, you can get me the keyboard from outer space.

And finally, for your listening pleasure is a wonderful rendition of Late Night Science Fiction Picture Show that’s been tormenting the inside of my head for at least a week now. Some recommend countering such an earworm with a rousing rendition of Spider Man or Yellow Submarine, but I find that sometimes you just have to play along until you know how to end the song. How about you, dear readers? Do you have any unusual earworm cures?

Now Reading: Circuit of Heaven, by Dennis Danvers.

Just Finished: Star Trek Vanguard: Harbinger, by David Mack.

Rebooting a series by introducing new characters is something that we occasionally see in series fiction. Sometimes an author loses interest in his original characters, but has a contractual obligation to grind out a total of ten books. Sometimes the original characters’ story is told and done, and not all of them survived, but the fans cry for more and more. Sometimes it’s easier for an author to build off an established foundation. And sometimes it’s all three.

Vanguard is a Star Trek series set at the beginning of Kirk’s captaincy of the Enterprise, though the familiar captain and ship only make brief appearances. Instead, most of the action focuses on Starbase 47, aka Vanguard Station, which was hastily built on the border of a mysterious and supposedly empty sector of space bordered by the Tholians, the Klingons, and the Federation. Complete with alien ambassadors, smugglers, crime lords, and nosy journalists, the setting was rather reminiscent of Babylon 5, though Vanguard managed to be reminiscent without presenting itself as an obvious knockoff. On the other hand, there was a scene at the end that seemed rather familiar, though I suppose I’d have to read the next book in the series in order to decide whether it was a "borrow" or just a nod and wink.

On the whole, not bad.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...