That Lurching Feeling

My better half's truck crapped out a few days ago. Apparently it either decided it was just too nice at the drug store to leave, or it took one look at rush hour traffic and said NO. Can't say that I blame it. Phone calls are made, meaningful and expensive items are transferred to my faithful steed, and the tinkering begins.

Me, I'm not Sherlock Holmes. I like to think I'm observant enough to get by, though. Popped the hood on that truck, and couldn't spot anything wrong; No dangling wires, belt was in good shape, no corrosion on the battery, no obvious leak points on the head or exhaust manifolds, fluids at good levels. Turning the key gets a *click click click*.

Near as I can figure, the truck has spark, has compression, has no issue with the battery or the alternator. After having attempted the near sisyphean task of shoving the lame beast uphill (Got about three quarters of the way up hill before Random Old Guy gave a helpful shove with his car bumper), we know that the engine isn't knackered because we got it to roll start. So, it's either a computer issue, or the starter motor is going pear-shaped. I say going because apparently it works when it feels like it.

Side note: Pushing around a truck on level ground isn't that bad. Pushing a truck down a hill feels like you are deliberately trying to screw up your vehicle, except you know someone you trust is inside to stomp the brakes if things get hairy. Pushing a truck uphill has a suck factor of say, 4. I've done things that I hated more, but it's noteworthy. But there's no-way you can physically push-start a truck with one guy without having a nice hill to give a gravitational assist. We ended up using my car to shove the thing around until it finally lurched to life during the roll start. I saw the thing jump some as my better half dumped the clutch and I mentally subtracted a 500 miles from the expected lifespan of the transmission box. Not something I'd recommend relying on permanently.

Figure we can't trust the truck if it's being so willful, so right now it's grounded at the top of the steepest portion of the driveway just in case we have to nudge it back to life again.

Squirrel Aggression

Squirrels have a special place in my life. Specifically, I like them field dressed and cooking over a spit.  Brush on a little garlic and butter, serve on rice. I haven't met a squirrel yet that I wouldn't prefer to have either actively cooking, or zip-locked in the freezer waiting to be cooked. When I see a squirrel, my eyes glaze over in bushy-tailed wrath. The urge to bulldoze entire forests overcomes me. I envision sitting on my porch and taking them out, one by one, sniper style, from cover with a .22 loaded with sub-sonics. If it wasn't a waste of meat, I'd use frangibles and blow their little squirrel asses away. Nothing but a pink mist and a bushy tail bouncing down from the limbs. Beady-eyed little bastards.

This is a relatively recent opinion of mine, though. I used to like squirrels (other than when they are over a fire, of course). What has caused this sea-change of private opinion? Well, it comes down to squirrel communications. Squirrels have three modes of communication; dead silent, chattering, and repetitive shrieking. The squirrels around my place must be a rather special breed, because all they do is shriek. They hang outside of my window, and inform me of all the injustices that plague their rodent minds. It's like the Secret of NIHM, except with squirrels that are only intelligent enough to sit in one spot for hours and say "Poop" over and over again before they lick the windows of the short bus on their way home.

5 AM and a cat is nearby? Let me sing you the song of my people. One of the nut bearing trees has dried out? Let's cuss about it for four hours. Songbirds hanging around? Let's join in and get a jazz session going. These squirrels are busier than a coms center in WWII, and I can't help but think of the amount of nuts they'd have stored away if they spent less time bitching and more time being the gatherers that they are supposed to be. Most likely they're just pissed at all the stray cats, but in their endeavors to tell the cat exactly where they are, they are also pissing off me.

And man is the most dangerous predator of them all.

I've gone full gangsta twice in the past few weeks and capped two squirrels for trying to send word on the grapevine for hours on end. Both ended up on a plate. Revenge, it turns out, is a meal best served hot and with a salad.

Back to Basic (computing)

Some times I like to crack out my old Asus Eee 900, just because. To be fair, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the old war horse.. It still boots up, holds a 6 hour run-time charge, connects to the WiFi and gets me online. I've booted it up to type this blog entry, matter of fact. The only problem really is that I've got enough spare tech laying around that I don't generally think about cracking out the Asus unless I really need to, or I just feel like putzing about on it. It's the tech equivalent of dicking around the woodshop, to be honest.

Talk about first world problems. I'd really like to find a use for the thing. I might just be able to use it at UGA, provided I can get the browser updated (not an issue) and get some basic capabilities put on it (like reading .pdf's, also not an issue). It's not really much of a jump from .docs to typing things up in Google Drive anyway, and it gives me some measure of being able to roam about campus as I need to, without worrying about my nicer laptop getting high-graded.

Atta Boy, Utah

Browsing through news reports before going to class, I happened upon this gem. I heart civil disobedience in the face of national government stupidity, so the folk in San Juan county get a gold star in my book.

Never understood of public lands being closed to the public anyway. Let me just sign a waiver that says that if I die it's my own damn fault for being stupid and let me go in. That way no one gets sued. If folks have got the money to go, and the land is still physically there, I don't see what the problem is.

A German Nigerian Prince Wants to Publish Your Thesis!

Got an email over night from a publishing company out of Germany. Some person I don't know sent me this passive aggressive email, being all butthurt that I didn't respond to their first scammy email. And make no mistakes, there are scams aplenty for recent grad students to blunder in to.. Fake honors societies (make a one time donation to become a member!), publishing companies that would like to be so generous as to offer to publish your thesis for exorbitant fees and full sign-over of rights..

Critical thinking and common sense are not currently in vogue with the masses, and that's doubly true for the students that have graduated in the last couple of decades. Triple true for any politician, since creating unique problems to provide solutions for is more profitable than solving existing problems. So, it makes sense that these sorts of scams have popped up over the years, especially since emailing because cuts their advertising budget down to practically nil as long as they have a decent front*.

Here's the thing though; grad students are supposed to be well versed in critical thinking. It's one of the requirements of putting out innovative material; you've looked at all these papers and looked at your data and synthesized it into something new. I guess I'm just a little sad that there's overwhelming evidence, in the form of scams, to tell me that these same grad students are shutting off their critical thinking skills when they aren't looking at papers.

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