I know how cliche it is to post silly phrases from spam emails, but I’ve never seen one so spectacular before.
The subject line was “Start a Profitable Woodworking Business from Home!”, and it went on about woodworking for a time. Then, after the requisite “click this link to unsubscribe” link (I’m not clicking that link for all the money in the world), I suddenly got this…
Will the cabinet sector sauce the wetting cash? Around another external blade bubbles the sinister dog. A laid motor shies away in the observed gasoline. Whatever track dislikes the gateway under the indefinite pit. The male staggers!
The crossed mouth peers within the main chase. An important antidote tenders the mnemonic burden. When can the actor twist? The bobs libel crawls.
Why can’t the ruled component roll under a blanket? A shortened member runs with the cartoon. Does the spokesman lie beneath the charitable flower? Should a willed baggage progress with the ethic? The rack stares inside a buffer. Can the thrust swing?
The territory husbands the fire. Should the damned sigh a dropped bog? This fruit prosecutes beside the cartoon. How does the unnecessary initiative fence a tail world? How will the building angel screw the ordinary farewell?
A bond experiments below the seventh. How does a unexpected tile hunt the specimen? The academic decay rocks above every compromise. Your lens results outside the seventh!
A protein lusts around the principal. Our lifetime washes in the busy certificate. When will a departure ray another similar result? Inside the diverting festival reflects the flush unseen. A theft acts the concert. An expert barks the surgery.
The ruin coasts against our soap. Each discovery punts behind the perpetual departure. How can the idea pose? The recovering hardware bucks behind the self grief. How does the crass oar append the neglected bankrupt? The still courtesy crawls opposite the credible innocence.
The beloved lusts with the choice! The matched coin pales. A solicitor loses? A complex confines the sock. Can the defeated surname the worthless amplifier?
The military closes whatever wound deterrent over the hierarchy. An authorized altogether intervenes above the cartoon. The quiz rewards the fantastic culture. The static tunnels a bargain metric. The censor spins under the dread! A glory hurts the economic lemon.
How will a nest exaggerate the breathed glance? The concentrated antique muddles an opinion. The slippery tax camps into the convincing inertia. A fortune begs an engineer. The empire entrances the infant above the exhausting banner. A fold nickname licenses the number.
The readable aunt thirsts around my blurb. The fire needles the protest around the private episode. An obsessed terminology initializes a literary cube. A discipline swings over a wise telephone. The susceptible bomb cracks inside the worried fudge.
Next to the incomplete racist boggles the overnight track. The realm fries a postage beneath the grouped electorate. The mercury safeguards the constrained stone. The rattled famine enjoys an obvious enlightened.
Beneath a gasoline stretches the ist neighborhood. A bigoted native modifies the attending dance. The terror rolls near a substitute. On top of the smoker breaks a treat. Across the renewed romance bays the land volunteer. The sect treks a chemical.
Is this what living in the future is really like?
Last weekend, I had some free time to mess around with a very nice Perl iTunes XML parser.* I’ve been curious about messing around in Perl ever since working with it once at my job last year, so this was a great chance to get re-acquainted with the language.
I’m obsessive about rating my music in iTunes, and with a fairly large collection (almost 18,000 songs, which if played consecutively would take 53 days to listen to), I have a lot of data to potentially analyze.
With all this data, I wanted to answer two questions:
Now, a normal person would answer this question by reflecting on the matter for a while, but for me, my answer would change based on what mood I was in. I wondered what my ratings would tell me.
So, I spent some time messing around with some scripts. I tried rating artists by total stars given, but that rewarded artists with many short high-rated songs (They Might Be Giants), and punished artists who produced longer material (Steve Reich). I also tried ranking my favorite albums by average rating, but that seemed to reward albums that didn’t have a lot of low- or high-rated songs on them, rather than albums with a lot of high-ranked songs and a few long-ranked songs on them.
After some thinking, I came up with a different system, one I’m much happier with it. In fact, I’m so happy with it, I’m calling it my Awesome system.
Here’s how it works. The units of measure are temporal, so we have Minutes of Awesome (MoA) and Hours of Awesome (HoA).
Before I go any further, I should explain my iTunes ratings. As you probably know, iTunes lets you rate a song anywhere between one and five stars. Here’s how I interpret the scale.
The basic idea is very simple. A 1-minute song rated at 5 stars is 1 Minute of Awesome. A 1-minute song rated at 4 stars is .5 Minutes of Awesome (30 Seconds of Awesome, in other words).
That’s it. Songs rated between 1 and 3 stars are completely disregarded.
This system evens out the discrepancy between artists like They Might Be Giants and Steve Reich, putting them on equal footing. It doesn’t count songs that I think are bad, mediocre, or merely good. I’m only interested in calculating Awesome, and the longer the awesomeness, the higher the rating. So an hour-long album with all songs rated at 5 stars would be 60 MoA, or 1 HoA.
So to rank my favorite artists, I simply added together HoA. This rewards prolific artists who have recorded a lot of music that I like. I don’t see a problem with this, but it definitely punishes “one and done” artists.
Now that that’s explained, here are my personal top 10 artists, by HoA…
1. Killing Joke: 2.97743736111111
2. New Model Army: 2.65715388888889
3. Steve Reich: 2.47266666666667
4. They Might Be Giants: 2.45228805555556
5. Nine Inch Nails: 2.41058444444444
6. Tori Amos: 2.2696575
7. Philip Glass: 2.23601
8. American Music Club: 2.23551444444444
9. XTC: 2.02524763888889
10. The Decemberists: 1.96034875
The top two aren’t a surprise, although I’d have expected them to be flipped. I’ve been listening to both of them for about twenty years.
Steve Reich hitting #3 is something that raised an eyebrow, but considering that he has some album-length works that I adore (Tehillim, Music for 18 Musicians), it’s not a surprise.
I’m not surprised by TMBG hitting the top 5, but let’s consider the accomplishment of an artist who reached 2.5 HoA when none of their songs are longer than five minutes. *APPLAUSE*
Nine Inch Nails rounds out the top 5, which isn’t a shocker; I’m a longtime fan. But #6 surprised my socks off.
I’ve always enjoyed Tori Amos’ music, but I’ve never considered her a favorite of mine. In fact, I have no music of hers rated 5 stars. This means that, with 2.27 HoA, I have ranked almost 5 hours of Tori’s music at 4 stars.
Impossible, I thought! But then I went through my library. Sure enough, there it was. If you’re still wondering why I do crap like this, this is the reason. I am now coming to terms with the fact that I am a Tori fan. I wonder if there’s a support group for this.
No rating system is perfect, of course, and this rating system punishes one type of artist: Someone who records similar music under different artist names. The artist in my library most affected by this would probably be Ben Folds. His work under Ben Folds Five ranks #104, with 0.644 HoA, while his solo material ranks #57 with 1.03 HoA. Combine those, and you get 1.67 HoA, good enough for #15 on my Favorite Artist list, sliding incongruously between Swans and Type O Negative.
Now, onto albums. There’s one adjustment I had to make here, and that’s account for the fact that all albums are different lengths. If I rank favorite albums by pure aggregate, then double-albums would beat all my other albums. So here, I had to make a concession to timing, and “normalize” the ratings to a 60-minute album.
In other words, a 60-minute album with all songs rated 5 stars would still be 60 MoA, while a 60-minute album with all songs rated 4 stars would still be 30 MoA. But a 30-minute album with all songs rated 5 stars would normally rank as being 30 MoA. If I double the rating to turn it into a 60-minute album, I now have it as 60 nMoA, which is where I want it. So now I can compare albums without worrying about their length.
One other thing: I define an “album” as a unified collection of songs by one artist with at least 5 songs, running at least 30 minutes.
So, here are my top 10 albums by nMoA (normalized Minutes of Awesome):
1. American Music Club - Everclear: 46.7580263055956
2. Pink Floyd - Animals: 43.6023205636406
3. Killing Joke - Night Time: 42.6553276058414
4. Neurosis - Through Silver In Blood: 36.9107668128577
5. Nine Inch Nails - Broken: 35.931577276988
6. Sunny Day Real Estate - How It Feels To Be Something On: 35.3211272730057
7. Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here: 34.6241832903066
8. Loreena McKennitt - The Book of Secrets: 34.0410866020781
9. Mr. Bungle - Mr. Bungle: 34.0136998864753
10. Killing Joke - Extremities, Dirt And Various Repressed Emotions: 33.8866561203438
The #1 album isn’t a surprise; it’s been one of my favorites since high school (and I should clarify: the band name is American Music Club, and the album name is Everclear. These are not the guys who did “Santa Monica”). But Pink Floyd sneaking two albums into the top ten is definitely a shocker, as is Loreena McKennitt, an artist I’ve always “liked” but not “loved,” sliding in at #9. But like I said before, it’s an album with a lot of high-ranked songs, and I love being forced to look at my music collection in new and interesting ways.
So there you have it: the results of a weekend of geeking out. I love the fact that I can now quantify how much I enjoy an album. For example, I can authoritatively say how disappointed I am in the newest albums by TV on the Radio (10.683 nMoA), the Decemberists (4.551 nMoA), and especially Radiohead (3.821 nMoA). And I am hoping that the year is redeemed by new albums from artists like Death Cab for Cutie (#135, 0.55 HoA) and Battles (#153, 0.483 HoA).
* You may be wondering why I didn’t just parse the iTunes XML with any old XML reader library. The answer is that Apple is very into a data structure called a plist, which, when set up as an XML, appears as a bunch of name-value pairs. This confuses most DOM and SAX parsers, so you have to have some special way of reading it.
At work today, I brought up my plan to eliminate New Jersey. I hadn’t thought about it in awhile, but I figure it’s worth telling.
No, I don’t mean to literally wipe the state off the map. I’m talking about removing New Jersey as a legal entity.
Here’s how it would work. Everything south of New Brunswick would be annexed to Pennsylvania. Everything north would become part of New York.
While we’re at it, we can make New York smaller. It would be Northern New Jersey, New York City, and Long Island. Everything north of Westchester would become a new state, which I would call “upstate.”
Yes, Upstate would struggle financially without New York City. Yes, auto insurance rates in New York would skyrocket. But other than that, isn’t it a brilliant plan?
Last week, I gave Peanut a bath, and I noticed blood oozing out of his left front leg. It turns out that he had a mast cell tumor there (don’t worry, MSTs are benign), and the bath had caused it to start bleeding.
I took him to an overnight vet, who suggested I have it removed. The problem is that Peanut is almost 9 years old, and a ferret’s life expectancy is 7-10 years. He’s an old man!
He went in for surgery yesterday, and thankfully, it was uneventful. He’s now trundling around like he usually does, and there’s no more blood.
He has another mast cell tumor on his leg, and I hope that doesn’t rupture too. The vet says it’ll be much more difficult to remove.
I promise more frequent updates to this blog, and I hope they’re not as gross as this one.
I’ve been a Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy fan since I was a little neurotic boy, so when I heard that Eoin Colfer had been tapped to extend the franchise, I was immediately interested.
I’m not a huge fan of the last couple of Hitchhiker books. I thought they read like contractual obligations. I was worried that AAT would turn out to be another forced, uninteresting book.
Well, it’s not uninteresting, and Colfer has a creepy ear for Adams’ literary voice. He uncannily channels the original author’s prose with incredible precision.
And listening to the audiobook version, I loved hearing Simon Jones (who played Arthur Dent in the original radio and television shows) take on all the characters with gusto.
But I thought the book suffered from a couple of things. They’re spoilers, so you’ll have to click through to read them.
Not basing these off of meaning, just how they sound. How they roll off your tongue. Spend five minutes repeating these words, so they lose all meaning, and you’ll have five minutes of pure joy.
5. Anthropomorphic.
4. Soffit.
3. Homunculus.
2. Discombobulated.
1. Wimple.
You know, it’s not just a matter of remembering something. You have to remember it at the proper time.
Let’s take pants, for instance. It’s not just a matter of remembering to wear pants. You need to remember to wear pants as you’re getting dressed.
Remembering to wear your pants when you’re in the shower, or remembering when you’re in the car driving, are both useless.
That’s why I don’t like it when people ask me if I remembered to do something. The answer is always “yes.” They should be asking if I actually did what I remembered to do.
N.B. Don’t worry. I have not failed to wear my pants so far this year.
The good news is that I have the day off from work. The bad news is that it’s Passover.
Well. That’s not bad news. It’s just that I have to drive to see my family.
And don’t get me wrong. I love my family. It’s just that there are, well, so damn many of them. I know that should be something to celebrate, but I get overwhelmed very easily, so I find these family gatherings quite difficult.
Then there’s the driving bit. I dislike driving through traffic, and Passover traffic is quite bad around here. I have to drive to Dix Hills, Long Island. That would normally be a one-hour drive, but the fact that ONE OF THE WORLD’S LARGEST CITIES is between here and there tends to drive that time up.
So I’ll be leaving early to spend the day with my relatives, who will constantly ask me how I’m doing. The only answer I can give them is “good,” because if I say anything else, they’ll start giving me advice, and their advice tends to miss the mark quite a bit.
I think the crux of the matter is that what makes them happy (family, children, the beach) is very different than what makes me happy (music, games, creativity). So wandering on their turf is inherently uncomfortable for me. Add in the traffic, and you have the beginnings of a nervous breakdown.
So there you have it. I love my family, but only in small doses. And they tend to only be available in very large doses.
Last year, I found tweeting my angst helped, so I’ll be doing that again. As long as someone finds my pain cathartic… okay, I’ll take amusing, I’ll be happy.
This morning, I returned to my apartment for the first time since the flood. I’d been staying with my friends Krys and Ted in Bayonne, because they had heat and hot water, and I didn’t. Plus, they were willing to take the ferrets in, which was awfully kind of them.
Now, the water didn’t threaten my apartment at all, but my garage was a different story. I’d kept my extra games (the ones I didn’t have room for in the apartment) and all sorts of personal effects in the garage. The games were in fairly waterproof buckets, while the effects were in plain cardboard boxes stacked on top of the buckets. The idea was that if the water got up as far as waist-high, the game buckets would be underwater, but they’d keep the games dry, and the boxes would never touch the water.
When I opened the garage door, I didn’t know what to expect. Would water come sluicing out? Would everything be just as I left it?
It turns out the tidal power of the water had been more powerful than I’d expected, and the boxes had been thrown all over the place into the water. There were a few things I lost that I wish I didn’t, like my old collection of baseball cards. But I didn’t lose anything life-threatening.
Oh, and the games. I wasn’t expecting to be able to salvage anything, but it turns out that the games are dry as a bone! Most of them, anyway. One of the game buckets opened, and I lost a couple of out-of-print games (for those in the know: among the games I lost were Betrayal at House on the Hill and, ironically, Survive).
It took a few hours to clean out the drenched effects from the garage, but I got a lot of help from generous folks in maintenance and my neighbors. Right now, the garage floor has been bleached and squeegeed dry, and the door is open to let it air out. Mold within the wall isn’t too much of concern, since the walls are rock and concrete.
So now I’m chilling at home for the first time in a couple of days. Man, it feels good.
I just saw a play on Broadway called A Behanding in Spokane. It was great to see the play, and to see my brothers and Marra again. My younger brother had been raving about the play’s author, Martin McDonagh, who’s also known for writing and directing the black comedy In Bruges.
It was a fun time, although plays aren’t really my thing. I’d much rather be gaming. So it goes, with geeky me.
The play was good to watch and quite funny, although (warning: spoilers below)…