Diary of a Wolfeman

I don’t pay a whole lot of attention to the site here (as if you haven’t noticed) but Da Roomie is pretty good about not only keeping up with things, but posting about them as well, so I will end up finding out about it.

Since he went out and updated his site, I got to thinking about doing the same here. Well, it just so happens that I had an hour or so today where I could watch a progress bar crawl across my screen, or I could do something a little more useful. Hence, a fresh update to WP 2.5 and a new theme.

The old theme carried over fairly well, but I thought it was time for a change anyhow. Luckily, at least one designer out there has a proper sense of color and design (snicker) and I didn’t have to give myself a headache with tweaking CSS and whatnot.

Except, of course for all the snarky little quips in the forms. Those I had to add back in, which has kept me up way late. Goodnight, folks.

Man I made a terrible mistake tonight – I watched some of the news at 10. That’s a sure way to get my blood pressure up.

Some of the top stories:
A man drives into a residential neighborhood late one night, pulls over and tells a girl on the street that he has an emergency and needs to borrow her cell phone. He then grabs her and hauls her into the car, drives off and rapes her. Cops circulate an artist’s rendering, and the picture definitely looks like a black guy. They then describe him as white or hispanic… WTF!?! Were you not looking at the picture? Or was the artist talking to the girl and just drawing whatever he wanted?

Teens at Bridgeport Village Mall harassed another kid earlier this week. Once the kid got free of them, he went to a guard for help. The guard was less than helpful at first, but later at least tried to be useful. The kid calls his folks, and they come to pick him up – only to be attacked by the group of teens? A bunch of girls dog-pile on the mom, and then their boyfriends gang up on the dad when he wades in to help mom out. How the hell do children get the idea that they can get away with this shit? And why wasn’t the dad swinging harder!?

The Human Race is almost run. The vast majority of Americans are too bloody timid by far to stand up for themselves anymore, let alone stand up to their own children, and they’re being ridden over roughshod. That dad should have gone in with both barrels – if he had, chances are those kids would have freaked out when they met real resistance to their animalistic behavior. That girl’s parents should not have been letting her wander the damn streets at 1:30 in the morning.

I don’t care how freaking un-PC is is to say this, but parents: beat your children. And to the Welfare people: Let them! Crap like this didn’t happen on a daily basis back in the 50’s, because if you got caught, chances are whoever caught you would beat your ass, then frog-march you back home where your mom and dad would say “thanks” and then beat you some more.

Pain, my friends, is an excellent teacher. It is the parents’ responsibility to raise the child, not the State’s, and you need to get off your lazy ass and do it yourself. Yes, your children will be pissed when you do it, but they will eventually get the hint that the belt only comes out when they do something stupid and will start to think before they act.

And all of you bystanders out there trying not to be seen? Step up! If you see some kids doing something stupid or dangerous, get their attention and say something. Just shout “HEY!” at the top of your lungs and give them the evil eye – you’ll break their concentration and probably diffuse the situation with nothing else being said. Quit depending on the government to do everything for you and take some responsibility for your life, your own welfare, and your safety.

First, this is just too damn funny.

see more crazy cat pics

Okay, on to the long awaited …

A Post!!!!!1111!!ONE

Yes, I have been reading too many LOLcatz. Deal.
On to the show.

So as you know, I have been messing with leatherworking for over a year now, but I have only recently sat down and decided to do some carving. The whole “cut stuff out and rivet it together” part comes fairly naturally to me, having been trained as a metalworker back in the days of yore (and high school.) It was time I did something a little more challenging, so I sharpened up my swivel knife and got to some serious doodling. Take this, for example:

Now, detail is pretty poor due to me using my phone’s camera, but it didn’t turn out too bad for a doodle. And yes, by the time I am done doodling, I will have a new set of coasters for the coffee table.

Once I had carved the design, though, I realized there needed to be some sort of background treatment done to help it stand out – but I had neglected to buy any backgrounding tools. Tolerant, however, in her brilliance, gave me a Dremmel tool for Xmas, and I happen to have a couple of lag bolts lying around with no better use, so I put two and two together, came up with 5, and decided to shave that down to a proper 4. The result is too small for my phone to get a good picture, but the effect is visible in the skull doodle. A simple cross-hatch pattern that does a decent job of squishing the background into the background.

So, after much doodling on the little coaster cutouts, I decided it was time to graduate to something a little larger and I bought some good tooling belly to play with. It’s about twice the thickness of the coasters which allows me to cut a more visible picture and get some real depth to it.

Like Celtic knotwork.

If you think drawing knotwork can tie your fingers up, try carving it with a small knife sometime. This came about while I was designing a new set of arm bracers for myself – I wanted to put my stylized compass rose motif on them, but realized there needed to be a border of some sort.

I was originally against the idea of knotwork due to another artisan on the Faire / SCA circuit who borders a lot of his stuff with knotwork. Besides – it looks so damned hard to carve :) So, I experimented with a few geometric designs that will probably work pretty well, but didn’t quite strike me as being very period.

While digging around on the Net for some examples of actual period stuff (and there isn’t much) I decided to go take a second look at the afore-mentioned “other guy’s” stuff – and discovered that he isn’t really even doing knotwork. He just does a three-strand plait. (See this reference for a complete description of a three-cord plait and knots.) On top of not really being knotwork, he never finishes it – it just runs right off the edge of the piece on it’s way back to Ireland, apparently offended at not being done right.

Well, if he’s going to cheat it, I can feel free to do it right! Here is most of the “Mark II” design for the arm bracers:

I have never claimed to be an artist, but I am a pretty decent draftsman – so I usually put things together on graph paper. Here you can see that I had to cut several pieces of graph paper out to get the knots suitably centered and rotated on the main pattern.

While it is not a terribly ornate design, I am pleased that both sides come out not as a three-cord braid, but rather a single strand woven back through itself from one side to the other. And, through the wonders of transparent tape and a scanner, I now have a re-printable pdf of the design complete with graph lines that I can use in future projects.

But, before I jump off the deep end and carve the actual bracers, I thought I should practice that knotwork. Here are a couple of small pieces:

Normal…

…and Inverted

The difference between the two is which part gets the beveling. Normally, you bevel outside the design so it stands out, and you can make it stand out further by using a background tool on the surrounding area. In Inverted, you (obviously) bevel the design itself, and leave the rest of the work alone. I will probably be using this second method for border designs. The only tricky part in using this method on knotwork is getting the ‘over’ strand to look like it is really crossing the ‘under’ strand. Obviously, more practice is required.

After much practice, I must report that the Ratboy has finally gotten his driver’s license. Be on the lookout for a white 1993 Toyota Corolla ;)

Funnily enough, he got the same score on his test as I did way back when, and for similar reasons – but those reasons have different causes. I was in a 1974 Dodge Dart Swinger Special, a 3000 pound car with no power steering that handled like a pregnant whale. Ratty’s car, on the other hand, has a slippy clutch. In either case, we firmly blame technical difficulties, not driver error.

2008 Dodge Challenger SRT

Please, Mommy? Pretty please??
Pardon me while I go get my drool bucket.

So I’m driving the Pookster to school this morning, minding my own business and listening to the radio when the ad hits the air. The voice is female, and from tone, inflection and grammar I suspect caucasian, mid-thirties, reasonable education. Your basic suburban soccer-mom. The kind of voice I typically ignore in a radio ad, because the chances of them shilling something interesting is pretty small – these voice talents usually push things like spa treatments and shoe sales.

And then what she’s saying sinks in.

“My husband has always had this small suspicion that our daughter isn’t his – I’ve always known he is the father, but he wasn’t always sure. Now, I can prove it once and for all with the $Company Home DNA-test Kit!”

Blink-blink. WTF?!?

That’s right, folks – you can now go down to your local pharmacy and get a DNA testing kit right off the shelf without having to go to the doctor. A couple of quick cheek-swabs, pack ’em off to the lab in the enclosed envelope, and in 3-5 days you can prove once and for all that you weren’t banging the postman.

And you used to worry about the “you’re gonna be naughty” looks you would get when buying condoms. Now you have the chance to get the “boy, did you fuck up!” looks.

Somehow, I don’t think the soccer mom trying to prove the mailman isn’t the father is their true demographic. I get the feeling that the real target audience here is perhaps a little less classy. To wit:

“That *bleep* Alphonse, he wasn’t ownin’ up to the fact that he was Shamiqua’s daddy and comin’ down with the *bleep* support checks, ya know? So’s I went down and gots me the kit from the pharmacist, and now I KNOW it’s his problem too, and he better be payin’!”

Or perhaps:
(Sound of banjo music) “Daddy’s been real mad since Junior came along, but now with the $Company Dee-Enn-Ayy kit I can show him that Junior is his son and not his nephew, and we can be a real family again!”

The mind wobbles.

Well, let’s see what this year brings us. Somehow, I doubt we’ll get flying cars and personal jet packs this year, but maybe we’ll see some movement on the civilian space projects.

A writer has been chosen to finish Robert Jordan’s work, so maybe we’ll finally get to end the Wheel of Time series.

Maybe I won’t spend the next two weeks scribbling out and correcting the date on my paperwork like I do every year.

Anyone taking bets?

I suppose if even Da Roomie has updated, maybe I should too (snerk).

So anywho, I am posting this from Tolerant’s new computer that I gave her for X-mas. (Part of the deal was if she got DSL, I would build her a computer that could actually use it.) And wouldn’t you know it, the silly thing seriously crashed Firefox on me about 15 times in a row – now I’m going to have to throw some diagnostics at it.

Mom was rather pleased with the basket that I made her – once she got up the nerve to ask me what it is :) She was apparently confused because her cat… (Monkeyface. She named her, not me. Funny though, because Trouble Underfoot’s brother is called Minky, which is Illyana-shorthand for Monkey.) …almost claimed it for herself. As soon as Mom unwrapped it and set it on the table, MF almost curled up in it. Mom thought it might be a kitty bed.

Pookie got buried in loot again this year, even with the restrictions the EMC put upon the relatives. She’s a good girl though, and made sure to play with the stuff that we got her first ;) Ratty has been out of work for a few weeks, so all he wanted was cash. The gift that always fits! I’ll be using what I was going to give him to help him get his license sorted out. Tolerant figured if he is going to be driving, then he should have a highway safety kit. So now he has jumper cables and a med-kit.

On Christmas Eve, we went over to Tolerant’s sister’s house for a little family party, and I realized her nephew AJ is one of my mortal enemies: he is very firmly ‘ninja’ to my pirate. I think I know what he’s getting next year. (Heh heh heh.) Yarr.

Okay, I be punchy now. Time to quit the typy-typy.

Uh, yeah. Sorry ’bout ‘dat, I really should ramble more.

Entertainment of the Week: 5 (count ’em, 1-2-3-4-5) 45-mile round trips to a rural client. One trip was used to install RAM in 4 machines and replace a power brick on a laptop.

That one was funny all on it’s own. Box was delivered to user and open on her desk when I got there. What was the laptop pluged in to? You guessed it, the bad power brick. Fucking nitwit.

So, what were the other 4 trips for? Rebuilding a single computer.

That’s right, something like 15 hours of labor for ONE FUCKING MACHINE because the owner of the company is such a FARKING PERFECTIONIST that he is truly incapable of using a computer unless it works EX-FUCKING-ACTLY like the previous model.

Okay, some of that labor was spent in an Edisonian pursuit: I found a method to do something that doesn’t work the way I wanted it to. Restoring an Acronis image to another machine can be useful, but when the original machine has a few problems related to Windows, you’re better off building it from scratch. This solution is best used in “Oh fuck! The server is tits-up!!” situations, not mere workstation migrations.

But I swear to you, if I hear that ancient little frog mutter “this is unacceptable” one more time, I’m a-gonna break his legs.

The bitch of it is, the guy retired from an engineering job. I KNOW he has a decent brain in his skull, and at one point in time he was exceedingly capable of figuring shit out. (There is a circuitboard mounted in his living room with about a half-mile of solder trace on it, and he commented once that that board had kept him busy for a while.)

So why in HELL’S half-acre can he not deal with change on a computer?

I think the worst part of this is the fact that the Bossman has been enabling this client for years and not putting the smack down on him earlier. Most of these headaches would be greatly lessened if Bossman had simply said “it will take you ten minutes to learn how to do this differently, and it will take me three hours to break this new machine the same way the old one was. Which is more efficient?”

Of course, Bossman is also the guy who wrote our 398-line login “script” at the office…

Shit just seems to piss me off a little more easily nowdays, but I think I have my reasons.

I admit it: I am a dirty smoker. I understand, however, that most folks around me are not smokers, and adjust my habits accordingly. I only smoke outside the house and the office, and I go someplace where it won’t bother others. Yet I get the stink-eye from people who drive gas-guzzling SUV’s bitching about the secondhand smoke I am making sure they are upwind of – and their completely unnecessary Urban Assault Vehicle produces twice the carcinogens as I do and drinks petrol at twice the rate my car does. Fuck off.

I understand that Portland is supposed to be a pedestrian- and bicycle-friendly town, but since when does that mean that jaywalkers get to glare and cuss at me for (heaven forbid!) actually wanting to go on a green light? Listen, fuckwad – if I still had my ugly old Plymouth, you would be a wet smear beneath my tires by now. Get the fuck out of my road.

The bicyclists are getting to be the worst though – I can’t tell you how many times I have seen some asshat peddle through a red light and nearly get creamed – then have the gall to yell at the driver who just saved his life by not hitting him. Excuse me? Where is it written that only cars have to follow the rules of the road? As far as I am concerned, that cyclist should be on his fucking knees apologizing to the driver for nearly inflicting an accidental death on the motorist’s conscience.

Bah!