I suspected this. I knew that, were we to order a certain drink too many times, that it would immediately see a revival.
I recently wrote about a certain shared experience, wherein Liz needed a pretentious cocktail and after discussion decided upon the sidecar. It was appropriate for the occasion, being classic yet not terribly well-known despite its former ubiquity. This combination reliably produced a good drink devoid of embellishment, and reasonably priced. Yet this hidden gem apparently would not be content to stay in shadow, and as I perused the beer shelves at the grocery, saw this cocktail mockery…mocking me. MOCKERY!:
And like a fool, I encouraged this, because I bought it. Damn my curiosity!
But it was good. It was a hoppy ale with an orange accent, a significant improvement in orangy beer over that Blue Moon crap. Yet the seed hath been sewn, and I suspect that soon we shall see the humble sidecar rebirthed from ashes, off in a blaze of glory to mediocre Americana restaurants everywhere–ultimately to share in the cruel and adulterated fate of the Manhattan. Alas, sidecar, we hardly knew ye for what you were.
People are really weird about crystals. There’s the crystal cult goofs who I guess think they channel divine essence or something. And was it crystals that gave Merlin his magic? I dunno. I’m not terribly inclined to research it further.
But anyway, I was at some outlet with Liz and noticed a bin of geodes. I recalled geode-hunting once in New Mexico, an old memory from my Texas years, and while I found some fragments, no one in the group discovered an intact geode. And here was a pile of them as if they had been simply scooped up somewhere. Maybe they had. I didn’t know how common they were.
Wikipedia revealed the obvious answer: they are (the biggest one being a cave in Ohio) and no doubt $10 was a large up-charge for the small rock. Still it was cool and dredged up a childhood memory, so I bought it for the kid.
The cashier helpfully informed me that I should break it open gently, rather than wail upon it with a hammer, as they break easy and hitting it too hard would just crush it. Apparently that was a common complaint.
I had planned to saw it evenly in half, though it turned out that I lacked the equipment to do so. So I got a chisel and hammer. I held the chisel while the kid tapped the hammer, and the geode fell apart into 3 nice chunks.
It was a cool enough experience that even the kid exclaimed in delight, distracting her away from her tablet for minutes.
Then she put it back together.
Weird. OCD or something. I dunno where she gets that from.
To me, the printer is a medium. I use that word in a way that people who believe it’s possible to communicate with ghosts do. The printer in a means by which we can connect the material to the metaphysical. Information which only exists in digital form–a specific pattern of magnetized bits–can be made tangible via the printer. And despite everyone claiming that they want to live in a paperless world, the preference for paper media over digital for varying personal and/or practical reasons renders the printer a critical component to our collection of electronic devices.
So surely a device of such importance would be built well, with a reliable OS and hardware, built by trustworthy vendors.
Yet for anyone who’s ever used one of these machines, we know this to not be the case. Apart from the general user-end experience, when it seems invariably impossible to print something when it’s absolutely critical that that document be printed, printers are plagued by a number of more nefarious problems. Offhand, I can think of a few that have popped up over the years: proprietary ink cartridges embedded with chips to prevent the use of 3rd-party replacements, chipped cartridges coded with expiration dates that prevent their use after a specified date regardless the level of remaining ink, printers which cache all print jobs in non-volatile and unencrypted drives, printers with closed-source software containing obsolete encryption libraries…and so on. In short–printers are evil devices used only out of necessity, and this necessity is exploited by manufacturers.
Now for my personal story.
I needed a printer (see above). My laundry list included separate color ink cartridges and network operability, and after reading reviews I decided upon the Canon MP640.
Ultimately the scanner got more use than printing, amusing in that it more often converted analog media to digital than the other way around.
The device came with two NICs–ethernet and wireless, and from day one I had trouble with the ethernet. The wireless worked okay, but I’d rather of used the ethernet for the usual list of reasons. But the ethernet NIC was IP-sticky, seemingly ignoring NAT assignments and demanding that it be given .1–which was a problem because .1 was the router’s IP. So the wireless was used instead, but years later I wanted to explore the wired again. I disabled wireless and plugged in the ethernet. Then, for whatever reason, I became distracted with other things and never got around to fighting the printer.
Then, a few days ago, I noticed the main network switch downstairs furiously blinking. Every connected port’s corresponding status light was flashing simultaneously…as was the living room’s, and the center room’s. That didn’t seem right, obviously.
But the switches are unmanaged and data wasn’t passing through the edgerouter which does DPI, so I couldn’t readily deduce the problem. Still, everything had connectivity, so I let the problem go. But there was an obvious lag, so I had to figure it out.
So in the dark hours of the night, which is when I do this sort of work, I began my super-technical investigation by systematically unplugging cables until the flashy lights stopped. As this is a residential network, it didn’t take long to narrow down: the guest room cable. This jack is connected to an older router, which is acting as a non-NAT access point. Wireless devices jump on and off as they roam, but I had also plugged the printer into it. Recalling my past troubles, I unplugged it and the network instantly fell back into its normal patterns.
I’ve debated getting a new printer, but then I considered the work Xeroxes–multi-thousand dollar machines with regular servicing, and even those won’t cooperate with the network on a regular basis.
I don’t know why these machines won’t play nice. Maybe one day, when my consciousness has been entirely converted into a digital signature, I’ll no longer have need for a printer. For now, I suppose I’ll just have to grin and bear it.
It’s a bit of a mixed blessing, but it can be a tad irritating when a company decides what’s best for me without my consultation. To some extent, we opt in, either through conscious choice or implied by purchases; and in so doing, we are putting our trust in the companies we choose. But there’s a fine line and it’s easy to cross.
For example, given the ongoing drama surrounding internet encryption standards and certificates, a certain trend has developed in which browser vendors have leaned towards becoming a tad…snarky with their judgments. For example:
This connection most certainly is secure, to which the browser will even attest upon closer examination:
Large cipher block, perfect forward secrecy, current protocol version, large hash bit size. This is an excellently secure encrypted connection.
However…
Without authentication doth not exist security, irrespective of the level of encryption. And since the certificate for this site is self-signed (due to a lack of practical alternative options–since it’s my edgerouter), the browser cannot effectively authenticate the source of the encrypted connection. Therefore, said encryption is useless if one cannot confirm to whom they are communicating.
Except…
I know the certificate and server are legit, and have accepted the certificate as de facto trusted and indicated such to my browser. Yet the browser has the audacity to assert that the connection is not secure despite this.
It’s a step too far I say! I angrily shake my fist at the monitor and log in anyway. Fuck you!
[Candid screenplays as derived from real social encounters]
FADE IN:
INT. BEDROOM – EVENING
In the suburbs, a man confronts his wife with pressing news as she’s otherwise engaged in domestic routine.
MAN, weary from a day of work, holding iPhone.
MAN
“Well that’s irritating, I updated my VPN app, and there’s apparently been an Apple framework change to how VPN sessions are handled.”
Man glances to wife to see if she’s listening. She gives no overt indication that she is.
WIFE
“Grab that blanket and pull, will you?”
Man grabs sheet and stretches to side of bed.
MAN
“Before, it used to keep an open tunnel when transitioning across cellular and WiFi, but now it seems to lock the session.”
WIFE
“No, the blanket, not the sheet.”
Man grabs blanket.
MAN
“I bet it’s a security restriction, that it’s now locking the client IP per session. If I disconnect and reconnect, it establishes a new session just fine.”
WIFE
(Gesturing) “Pull the blanket to your side.”
MAN
“It’s just irritating that I can’t roam between access points anymore. I guess there’s no real reason to have it running at home, but that’s less convenient. I wish I hadn’t updated.”
WIFE
“Pull the blanket.”
Man pulls blanket.
MAN
“Are you listening to me?”
WOMAN
“I don’t use that and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
