Archive for November, 2008

Nerdiness

Nov 18

Posted by jeff in Everything, Geekery | 3 Comments

I'm a nerd, there's no real getting around it. I cop to it pretty readily. The fact that I cop to it is also pretty nerdy, since it implies I'm under some kind of delusion that people don't already know it.

It's also a distinct possibility that I'm not a nerd (as Wodehouse once said, "I'm not a nerd... nerds are smart." Wait... or was that Milhouse?), but a geek. Regardless, I'm one of those guys who gets no play, except from arcade machines. And I don't even go to arcades.

Even with that said, you may not want to proceed any further, because the sheer force of geekery to come isn't safe for innocent eyes.

So last night, and over my lunch hour today, I was bored. When I'm bored, I tend to start thinking of ways to solve problems that aren't really problems. For Exhibit A, see my DIY soda machine from a few weeks ago.

Last night and today, my problem was the issue of security. I do a lot of work -- okay, more precisely, I spend a lot of time -- at local coffee shops, sipping cold coffee and sponging off of their free internet. The only problem is, since it IS free internet, it's unsecured. So I can't very well go and check my bank account balances, pay my credit card bills, etc.

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about: if you don't need a password to get onto a network, and you didn't have to plug any funny wires into your computer to get on it, don't do anything even remotely related to your money. It's like tea-bagging your home address in Morse Code on a Navy SEAL's face. You're just begging for trouble, and simultaneously providing everyone within range the means with which to supply it in enormous quantities.

So, don't believe those moronic online bank commercials (I think it's HSBC, or maybe ING), where a young, hip douchebag is bragging to a slightly less young, less hip douchebag about how he just opened a bank account online, on his douchey Mac laptop, in a public place, over an unsecured network.

Congratulations, you just had your douchebag identity stolen, and instead of paying for a new MacBook and feathered hair treatments, your credit lines are extending towards plasma TVs and new computers for the marginally smarter douchebag who was sitting on the other side of the room with a flaming skull sticker on his Dell.

Anyway, I'm all tired out now from writing about douchebags in commercials, so I'll cut it short. I did some super geeky shit, and the end result is that I can now use my home NAS box as an SSH-secure web proxy, which encrypts all my outgoing and incoming data, so people can't peek at what I'm doing on the network.

That's about it.

Don't look so pissed, I fucking warned you.

Work

Nov 16

Posted by jeff in BooBooBeeBoo (Angsty Melodrama), Everything | 1 Comment

I'm starting a new job (a contract, really) tomorrow. While I'm happy about it -- I like the company, the people I'll be working with, and the project itself -- I have mixed feelings about the ramifications.

I started working with computers because it was basically the path of least resistance. I was already a loner geek in my personal life, so it was really just a lateral shift into the workforce. Like many in my generation and socioeconomic stratum, I've more or less been raised to believe I could be anything I wanted to be. I've always kind of taken that for granted. Rather like an IRA account or 401K, you feel like it'll always be there, until one day you log into your account and discover the banks and government have combined in a shitstorm of ineptitude to destroy your financial solvency. Sorry... almost started a tangent there.

So now, it's several years later, and I'm still working with computer multimedia/programming. I'm not bad at it, either. But I don't feel invested. The guys in my line of work who get ahead love what they do. They design and program things in their spare time. They're always sending me links about this or that cool widget or new piece of software. I, on the other hand, don't really give a shit.

This is, I think, going to be the barrier to my moving forward in this line of work. I'm pretty much stuck where I am, because I'm just not motivated to advance. To be a coder, I think you really need to enjoy it. And I do, sometimes. There's something about seeing a piece of code come together that is extraordinarily satisfying. Stringing together sets of data to produce something useful and/or fun is great, but it's not something I get hot and bothered about.

This mild apathy, coupled with at least a middling sense of propriety, means that I end up passing on projects and contracts that I believe may be beyond my current knowledge set. Not because I think it would be too difficult, but because I know that my lack of ambition would lead to a substandard product.

To be fair, lately I haven't had a great level of interest in anything at all. Or I'll have a spike in interest, then become quickly relieved of my fascination -- kind of an emotional ADD. I don't think I'm particularly depressed or anything, I'm just... even. A zero sum. So I feel like I need a kind of jump-start somewhere to get me going again. Not sure what it is, but I'm still looking.

Mostly on Digg, which in all honesty hasn't proven an incredibly rich resource, but there's always hope.

Food Culture

Nov 15

Posted by jeff in Everything | 1 Comment

A friend sent me a link to a blog called "Dyske" this morning (which I didn't get until this afternoon, since I was up until 6am playing Fallout 3). Rest assured I'm not trying for any kind of logical progression or sensible discussion, I'm just a little annoyed and having fun.

My primary reaction while reading this, after rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, was a growing sense of irritation. The impression I got -- accurate or not -- was of a cultural narcissist who regards Japanese food culture as something sacred, and not to be tainted by outsiders.

Coincidentally, this is something which has always kind of annoyed me about Japanese food. It can be likened somewhat to Apple fanaticism in my eyes. That is, people are so consumed by the culture and hype surrounding something that the object becomes its own virtue. They forget that it's an uncooked slice of fish on a plate, or an MP3 player that costs twice as much as it should. It becomes a symbol of what you want in a meal or a consumer electronics device, a surrogate for objective valuation.

Along with that comes a kind of insider's attitude (which kind of reminds me of some Linux communities). If you don't know the exact traditional way in which to appreciate Japanese food, then in some circles and/or venues you're an object of derision. If your meal has a "proper" and "improper" way to be eaten, then it's not a meal, it's a ceremony. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but one shouldn't presume to mock the people who just want to eat, and aren't interested in playing along.

This is an attitude I see everywhere regarding Japanese food. It's also an attitude that has likely tracked along with America's various food culture obsessions that have come before it. It's possible (well okay, I'd say probable) that I just don't get it. Perhaps it's some latent remnant of my Chinese heritage, which has a very practical approach to food.

My parents, for example, know what Chinese food should be like when done right. They're not transported to a sublime plane when they encounter excellent Chinese food; they're happily content, and mildly irritated when it's not as good as it should be. It's not an insult against the motherland, it's just not a very good meal.

Sometimes this can be frustrating; the few meals I've cooked for them have been greeted with a kind of reluctantly benevolent acceptance. However, it also illuminates this point: Chinese food isn't a transcendent experience, it's just good food. That's why many of the very best Chinese restaurants are greasy hole-in-the-wall places with tatty furniture, bare walls, gruff service, and unsung masters churning out excellent meals to a knowing patronage.

He asserts that Chinese and Koreans who serve Japanese food are just in it for the money. What the hell does he think Japanese restaurateurs are in it for?

Another thing -- and this is the fundamental flaw in his diatribe -- he is comparing low-end Chinese and Korean owned restaurants with an ideal "proper" Japanese establishment. All right, let's take a look at how accurately some craphole Japanese greasy spoon whips up a plate of gnocchi or a lamb biryani.

What really gets me about the article is that the author comes across as such a narcissist both about himself and his own people, and creates sweeping generalizations about Koreans, Americans, Chinese, and Japanese while holding himself up as the ideal in his own personal pantheon of good taste.

Anyway, that's my cathartic ranting for today. Wow, that's exhausting.

Shrinkage

Nov 14

Posted by jeff in BooBooBeeBoo (Angsty Melodrama), Everything | No Comments

I've been in a funk lately. There really isn't any one specific cause -- my emotional dirty laundry is far too ponderous and embarrassing to air here-- and were I in my right mind I'd probably view it as just one of those things. But seeing as I'm in a funk, I've been giving some thought to seeing a therapist.

This is kind of a shaky step for me, since I can't really rid myself of the feeling that therapists are basically whores for the mind. I don't say that to cast aspersions on them or what they do, but more as a way of explaining why it's so difficult for me to even consider seeing one.

Just as with prostitutes, with a therapist you are paying a professional to provide you a measure of personal catharsis, and giving quite a lot of yourself to do so. On the other hand, I have always tried to be fairly independent. I hate being dependent on anyone, and I hate being subservient to people. I suspect I inherited this need for personal control from my father.

Hmm... classic self-psychoanalysis going on here, so I'll nip that line of discussion in the bud.

Back on topic, it seems like admitting defeat. I'm unable to find a satisfying resolution to my own problems, so I have to turn to a surrogate. If this were applied to something like figuring out how to put together a piece of Ikea furniture, it would be aggravating enough. When that failing is as fundamental as knowing how to be content in my own skin, it's a fairly disturbing situation for me.

So, I'm trying to see it in an alternate way. I could either pay a therapist some money and get my emotional rocks off that way, or I could continue in this rut, and eventually become that attention whore that sends "sigh" in messages to his friends all day.

Or someone who posts this kind of shit in a weblog.