ndanger.organism

1. Uzumaki

In running for this year’s “least expected link source” award, Jace from the mudd up blog recommended Ito Junji’s Uzumaki. It’s an amazing combination of Edward Gorey, H. P. Lovecraft and Twin Peaks: intricately inked depictions of horrific events occurring in a remote Washington Japanese town. Unlike a lot of manga, Uzumaki has a plot and doesn’t waste time getting to it. It also has a surprisngly tender ending (kind of). For the cash strapped, you can always steal it.

2. Black Hole

Black Hole is an allegorical teen fable where sex with the infected results in mutation. Creepy & more touching than expected.

3. Maus

It seems shallow to put two twisted supernatural horror comics before a tale about both the holocaust and the complications of a father-son relationship, but basically this list is in arbitrary order anyway. Not much to say that hasn’t been said already.

4. Bottomless Belly Button

I feel like I should dismiss this as self-serving pretentious art crap (which is kind of how I felt about The Mother’s Mouth) but I really liked it. It’s about a maladjusted and self-deprecating 20-something and his dysfunctional/strangely-functional family. And it contains comic book sex.

5. Watchmen

I read it before the movie and thought it was pretty darn good. Then I read it after and the opinion was reinforced. In comparison to the movie, the movie ending seemed more realistic but the comic more believably portrayed the Nite Owl as a flabby middle aged dude with good tech. Remember in the movie where Nite Owl and Silk Spectre run down the jail hallway kicking rioting prisoner ass? In the book they punch two people.

6. FLCL

Angsty teenage boy + hyper(sexual) older girl with guitar + robot = insane manga. Maybe it’s my ADD, but I found it totally addicting. Stepping out of conventional, FLCL also plays around with the comic format, changing animation styles and making fun of the genre. The movie‘s good too. Read it for free.

7. Fun Home

Alison Bechdel’s autobiographical tale about her father’s repressed homosexuality and her budding lesbianism.

8. Sandman

Another classic. Great despite inspiring a generation of ankh wearing goths. Astute readers might note that the photo is not comic artwork but a rendition of Tom Cruise as the Corinthian. Thanks, internet!

9. Monster

A sprawling psychological thriller, Monster is engrossing through all 162 chapters. I read it in two marathon sessions (to the detriment of everything else on my todo list). Its only faults are the near canonization of protagonist Dr. Kenzo Tenma and occasional meandering sidestories. Read it free.

10. Rurouni Kenshin

Apparently a classic in Japan, Rurouni Kenshin is part teen action, part romance, part history lesson and part bushido love-fest. Despite heavy doses of melodrama, overly-cute manga moments and typical samurai schlock, it’s an engrossing story. Unfortunately it also weighs in at 255 chapters. You can cheat by watching the movie, which tells the back story of titular protagonist Kenshin. Read it for free.

11. Claymore

Gothic horror manga starring women with big swords. Claymore does an excellent job of creating mood. I found the plot kind of meandering in the middle, but it seems to have picked up. An ongoing series, it’s hard to say how it will end up. Read it free.

Inspired by DHD:

Days using twitter: 780
Number of updates: 33
Best tweet: 2009-03-16

Tired of the old republic? Now, thanks to Outloud Opinion you can get The New Republic podcast.

Thanks to Marin for the Facebook tip, though I guess she was promoting her article, Blowing Sunshine (mp3)

2008-09-22, Monday

Recovery day. Phone call from land lord @ 5:15am. IGNORE. Alarm I forgot to turn off @ 6:30. CRAP. I dinally woke up and aired out my gear on the back patio while reading some print outs of the web version of Real World Haskell. Ran errands. Ate left-over cous cous dinner then off to the Ocean Island Hostel to see Andrew(?)–part of Team Awesome–’s band. I talked to him for a second before going back to sleep.

2008-09-23, Tuesday

Woke up early and caught up on podcasts. Then cultural day: first stop, Miniature World. The pictures speak for themselves (though sadly all my pictures of “the world’s smallest operational saw mill” were utter crap; the sawmill itself, however, was marvelous).

Next stop, the Royal BC. Bought a ticket for the mountain climbing IMAX and helpful ultra-canadian cashier woman told me to hang on to my ticket, because I could get a discount if I came back that night to see Dark Knight. I took her up on the offer and bought my discounted ticket.

The museum proper is nice, one of the most impressive parts is the historical recreation of old-tyme Victoria.

I was done with enough time to get a panini and some ice cream before coming back for the awesomeness that is the IMAX version of Dark Knight. Evidently everyone knew it was going to be awesome because it was a full house. I was wedged between a middle-aged couple and a crew of 16 year old boys where I dutifully fulfilled my role decreasing the slope of the age gradient.

2008-09-24, Wednesday

I spent the rainy morning doing more Haskell cramming. Once the weather cleared I started walking towards The Castle. Halfway out Fort St. the rain returned with a vengeance; my jacket kept my body dry, but my jeans were quickly soaked and I abandoned. If only I had my Tyvek pants!

It must have been around 3 because the walk back was flush with teenagers. My first real clue was the girl walking around nervously with a backpack and cat ears. Next I saw a Chevette hop a curb and knock over a stop sign. Two girls jumped out, switched seats, and started backing back down off the curb. The Victoria Police “Crash Van” showed up, slowed, then drove off. Apparently, it was under control.

I ended the walk in the Wildfire Bakery, the hip/hippie bakery/cafe across the street from my hostel. Good hot chocolate and a loaf of bread to go. Later I ate the bread with some “free” peanut butter from the hostel’s free bin; I learned there’s no such thing as free peanut butter, just free rancid peanut butter.

…Are you assuming malice or incompetence where none might exist?

Chris Winters, Bitter Discourse Indeed

Occasionally, and often related to language wars or Zed Shaw, the internet realizes that there is a stunning lack of online decency. A backlash occurs. In one of these exchanges I read a blog post–the source of which I’ve unfortunately forgotten–that crystallized my opinion: practice the principle of charity.

PS: Speaking of bitter discourse and moral codes, I highly recommend Doubt.

The Texas Board of Education will vote this week on a new science curriculum designed to challenge the guiding principle of evolution, a step that could influence what is taught in biology classes across the nation.

The proposed curriculum change would prompt teachers to raise doubts that all life on Earth is descended from common ancestry. Texas is such a huge textbook market that many publishers write to the state’s standards, then market those books nationwide.

“This is the most specific assault I’ve seen against evolution and modern science,” said Steven Newton, a project director at the National Center for Science Education, which promotes teaching of evolution.

Texas school board chairman Don McLeroy also sees the curriculum as a landmark — but a positive one.

Dr. McLeroy believes that God created the earth less than 10,000 years ago. If the new curriculum passes, he says he will insist that high-school biology textbooks point out specific aspects of the fossil record that, in his view, undermine the theory that all life on Earth is descended from primitive scraps of genetic material that first emerged in the primordial muck about 3.9 billion years ago…

The textbooks will “have to say that there’s a problem with evolution — because there is,” said Dr. McLeroy, a dentist. “We need to be honest with the kids.”

Stephanie Simon, Texas School Board Set to Vote on Challenge to Evolution

Emphasis added.

Maybe it’s because I just finished The Omnivore’s Dilemma, but I find the inclusion of the scientist and pasteurizing plant strange and refreshing.

Inspired by Maria spreading the economics podcast love, I’m recommending Russ Robert’s EconTalk. Roberts is a professor at George Mason and an unabashed Austrian but is open to the ambiguities that surround economics. One of the most interesting podcasts is on the balance between empiricism and theory. RECOMMENDED.

Speaking of economics and podcasts, I’ve been listening to The Adam Carolla Podcast, which is recommended for those that miss their smart-ass friends from high-school. It’s also interesting listening to the first few episodes where Carolla & his guests try to figure out how to (segue) monetize podcasting. It’s a reminder that successful artists (ignoring those that are just lucky/crazy) have a core of solid hustler. The downside of the show is that the mp3′s all have the same ID3 tags, which is seriously going to mess up my last.fm stats. ALSO RECOMMENDED, THOUGH NOT AS INFORMATIVE ABOUT ECONOMICS.

Diva is Jean-Jacques Beineix‘s stylish thriller/love-story/treatise on art. Other than a French leaning towards style and cinematography vs. realism and some pacing problems in the last third it’s perfect. Highly recommended.

I’ll be in Boston, but my dirty Icelandic postcards will be on display at Fun a Day 2009. I even cut my own mat… and it shows.

But the other projects look good. Plus there’s free food.

If you want to understand the plot of The Sword of Doom, Wikipedia and IMDB have good summaries. But really, don’t bother: the movie’s not about plot, instead it’s all about Tatsuya Nakadai’s character portrait. The ending is often criticized as too abrupt, a by-product of the movie’s status as part one of an unfinished trilogy. I think it’s one of the best movie endings of all time. Rather than obsess over a finished plot it instead puts the final polish on Nakadai’s character arc: from invincible stoicism to beaten and bloodied madness.

That’s about how much I know of Inkscape and the GIMP. So when Elaina said something looked pathetic I thought “I can make that more pathetic. And vectorized.”

Sandtarts: a Gingrich family tradition. Also a test of rolling feats. Grandma can get them down to gold leaf dimensions, I’m not that good, but am within tolerance.

Via Bill Higgins’ comment on Joe Gregorio’s reiew: the How Buildings Learn BBC miniseries. It’s not as comprehensive as the book and Brand is a bit awkward as a narrator but the visuals and interviews with tenants are interesting. RECOMMENDED, BUT NOT AS MUCH AS READING THE BOOK

Does you have it?

I do.

On Daniel Burka’s recommendation (at MeshU) I checked-out a copy of How Buildings Learn from the Carnegie. Summary: RECOMMENDED.

In the book, Stewart Brand–of Whole Earth Catalog fame–looks at the evolution of buildings, a subject he claims is sorely under-researched. He first establishes his framework, the six S’s: site, structure, skin, services, space Plan, and stuff; and then outlines the major archetypes of buildings: high-road (cathedral), low-road (warehouse), and hollow-souled sell-out architectural-digest pornography (most everything else, incidentally it was the high-road/low-road distinction that Burka used in his talk), Next he descends into detail. Finally he provides some hints for designing for change. And then, for emphasis, he re-states everything in the appendix and ends with a final plea for everyone to start paying attention to how things change in the long term, damnit.

Like anyone who’s learned software patterns, I know of the Christopher Alexander classic. But I put it off in favor of reading books about, well, software. How Buildings Learn frequently references Alexander’s works. It also shares a lot with software design: Brand advocates less up-front design, direct client involvement, choosing processes and artifacts that provide feedback and “short” iterations with rapid deliverables–basically Agile. (He also advocates spending time & money on a solid foundation and “documentation”: he lauds John Abrams “as-built” photo documentation. These could be interpreted as “anti-agile”, but as James Shore points out agile is no excuse for irresponsibility.) Unlike books on Agile software, How Buildings Learn benefits from being about something tangible: buildings. I spent my freshmen year in the University of Pittsburgh’s Litchfield Towers (picture above) and I currently work in a new office building that has the perfect triumvirate of leaky roof, non-function HVAC and architectural awards. It was easy to understand Brand’s examples. It took me much longer to actually understand–not just parrot–Agile. Such is the power of metaphor.

So recommended. Even if you’re not a programmer.

2008-09-21, Sunday

Let’s hope that’s not a portent.

After 4km of forest trail, I headed out to the shelf at kilometer 66. From there it’s only 1.5 km to Owen Pt, though between avoiding soaking my shoes in tidal pools and drowning in huge surge channels, I walked about 2.5. But other than rocks slick with invisible algae, it’s an easy walk. It’s also beautiful, in a post apocalyptic sort of way. I present the following two examples of the beach:

And this one looking back into the woods, which is more “post-apocalypse by Tolkein:”

I reached Owen’s Pt. sometime before 10:14 am, which, according to the tide table was the only time it was passable. The tide table was half right: it was passable if didn’t mind walking through ankle deep ocean water. Instead I peeked over the edge into the eroded-cavern-thing. It was… drumroll… anti-climactic. Maybe it’s nicer if you jump down and marvel. Instead I took advantage of the overland route someone had made out of well knotted nylon rope. On the other side of the point the shelf became soft sand. Just as I was cursing sand walking, it turned into rocks.

Rocks rocks rocks. Big rocks, small rocks. But pretty much all sharp rocks. Definitely too much for my aged New Balances and probably the most painful part of the hike.

3.5 km later the rocks became a beach. There were 4 men waving madly at the ocean. “How much further to Thrasher?” I asked. “This is Thrasher” the Bamfield Coast Guard hat-wearing guy answered. With that out of the way, I talked to them and found out that two of them were guides and the other two were French film-makers. They were worried about missing the 5pm ferry and consequently the frenchmen’s 5am flight the next day. They were trying to signal the ferry-man for an early pick-up. I tried my cell phone but got no signal. Finally they picked up their 40 kilo packs–no exaggeration, they had some big damn cameras–and started up the ladders to the main trail.

I took advantage of the peace and tranquility to relax.

Something must have worked because when I came out the world was unbelievably beautiful:

The sunshine was a good excuse to take off my shoes and eat some macadamia nuts.

20 minutes later, I started up the ladders. Monique had warned me that it was “an hour of ladders” She was wrong, but it was a climb. And after the ladders came a series of extremely steep switchbacks to get back to the main trail. The trail itself was all ups and down, it included the highest point in the entire trail and, unsurprisingly, ended at sea level. I wasn’t surprised when it only took a kilometer to catch the filmmakers; my pack was only 8 kilos.

4 kilometers later I hiked down to the shore and hoisted the orange buoy. The ferry driver showed up in a few minutes. He said it’s can be a beautiful trail but “Some people hike it in 4 days, that’s just stupid!” Since I had just finished in 4 days, I chose to interpret him as saying “You should enjoy what the trail has to offer.” I agree.

Back to Victoria

It was only a 5 minute ferry ride across the mouth of the river and then a 100 meter walk to the camp office. While I was walking towards the office a bitchin’ Camero pulled up and out stepped–if I remember his name correctly–Glen: a tall, tribal fellow. He also had a bleached mohawk and was wearing knee-high waders. He had seen be get off the trail and asked about the filmmakers. He had been working at the Nitinat ferry and had hiked out, Sherpa-ing some dead batteries for the filmmaker’s in the process. I told him they were a few kilometers behind me and he headed into the warden’s office.

I followed and gave the warden my registration info so she’d know I wasn’t dead in a surge channel or eaten by wolves. She also gave me some information on the Juan de Fuca trail and the local town. I sat down and in a head-cold haze tried to put everything together: I could camp in town that night then start hiking the next morning… but I had to get to an accessible trail head by Wednesday, since that was the last day the trail bus ran… so I’d have to figure out where I’d get out and call ahead and make a reservation… but I still needed to refill my water and maybe get a little more food… or maybe I should wait and see if I could get a ride with Team Awesome, they were talking about driving back to Victoria…

Chris and Fabian saved me. While I was blindly staring at the Port Renfrew map a tall red-headed German man (Chris) and a short blond Swiss woman (Fabian) walked up. The man said they were headed back to Victoria by way of Cowichan Lake and they’d be happy to give me a ride. “Happy” seemed a bit optimistic, since I smelled terrible, but I accepted.

They were both students at an English language school in Victoria. Chris had just bought the car from his host family so they went for a weekend trip. They had camped in Port Renfrew the night before; it involved rain, a crazy man, and dual nightmares about a firing squad and being in a tent on fire. They still seemed pretty pleased, I assume because there was some hot make-out action they had elided.

We stopped at Lake Cowichan to eat some of their left-over food. Chris used his well engineered German stove to boil water for their tea and coffee. It was cold so Fabian put on the most awesome vest ever: it was shearling and had “Hoochie” written on the front in gold script. I then noticed that Chris was wearing FUBU cargo pants. I wonder if he knows that he’s not the Us they’re referring to?

Then it was just a short drive back through the surprisingly sprawling suburbs of Victoria to the Turtle. I insisted Chris and Fabian take 20 CDN.

Inside, Sue set me up with a room. Then we talked for 20 minutes: turns out she used to be a programmer in China. This set off a string of complaints about the stress of programming, which is why now she owns a hostel. Perhaps that’s what I should do with my life?

It was dark by the time I’d showered and settled. I headed out for comfort food and settled on over-priced mediocre pizza. I watched drunk Victorian college students and felt out of place and culture-shocked; hiking was a distant, pleasant memory. Instead of owning a hostel, I might stick with my original retirement plan: mountain man.

2008-09-20, Saturday

It was a foggy, overcast morning so I decided to pack my rain gear near the top. GoLite‘s end of season sale was a good excuse to finally get a Virga and I splurged and bought some Tyvek pants at full price. It was great except that the pants were on my living room floor. But had I worn them I probably would have looked something like this:

Sans pants (rain pants, I was still wearing my trekking pants), I walked back to km 43 and headed out to the beach. I could hear sea lions barking but the fog was too thick to see anything. I contented myself with following some pretty awesome bear tracks. I walked beside them until the stairs to civilization: Carmanah Lighthouse. It was a quick walk up the steps. Then a confused wander around. Then a trip down some steps. Then back up. Then back down. Then down the beach until I found where I was supposed to have come down. Then halfway back up those steps, then thinking about getting stuck in the rain because I spent half-an-hour going up and down stairs.

Then another kilometer to Chez Monique’s:

Monique is a french canadian and wife of a Ditidaht (I believe). The reservation comes down to the water and she’s set up shop. A cheeseburger and pop was $19 but conversation was free–it’s a good deal per word. My pre-hike research turned up that she was a programmer, so we talked a bit about Fortran. Then politics came up and I was saved by the arrival of two Americans. It was refreshing to see them: they were the only other sane lightweight hikers. I let them carry the conversation while I watched Monique and her sous chef. It turns out that every summer Monique has hired (or maybe just free room and board) help. The French girl chopping our tomatoes found out through an organic farm. I have yet to tell him, but this is definitely a job for Nick.

The next stretch of beach held several signs of “P” life:

Predator:

Prey:

Seagulls, Poop-load of:

The back into the woods and my hiking zone. The beach might be beautiful, but if you’re not actually on the shelf it’s slow sand walking. Frustrating. I powered down the trail except for a slip on a muddy log bridge that landed me on my bum and a disturbing clanging noise while I was crossing a suspension bridge. Mechanical failure! I thought until I noticed a hiker climbing down the ladder on the other side, pots hanging off his pack and banging together loudly. I couldn’t tell if it was an intentional anti-bear technology or just lazy packing. Either way it was annoying.

Next stop was Culite Creek for some food/foot repair/bio break. Inside the fancy solar composting toilets I realized that I’d forgotten something else: my toilet paper. It was probably in the outhouse past Nitinat (forgot to mention the boat ride across the Nitinat narrows. The ferrymen said the second largest douglas fir grew near Cheewhat Lake. Apparently it takes two dozen middle school kids hand in hand to circle the trunk). Luckily, I had brought along Roy Fielding’s doctoral dissertation. I don’t know Roy and will never tell him this story, but I hope he enjoys knowing that his table of contents is hibernating on the Juan de Fuca coast, waiting until the beautiful moment when it can metamorphosize into dirt.

It was a short but muddy 4 kilometers to Camper Creek (62 km). There I met Team Awesome, 3 ex-biology students, and their trail buddy, an ex Washington-state sheriff. I set up then headed back to eat by their fire. They were great company, they even shared some chicken of the woods. They seemed content to stay up talking, but I had sleeping plans.

My cold acted up while sleeping and I had the vivid flashing light / geometric / spatial disorientation dreams I get when feverish. I woke up a few times thinking I was standing, something that would have been difficult in my tent.

Photo by mithrandir3

Thanks to Stevil for the link to True Norwegian Black Metal.

Awesome. Maybe the most awesome thing on the internet ever.

At least it was a nice break between watching Jerry “does that make sense to people?” Cain (incidentally also a Richter Scale) and Gurren “guilty pleasure” Lagann.

It also takes the “awkwardly long pause in a documentary” award away from Franc G. Fallico’s performance in Grizzly Man