End of a long day

Have you ever gone on a date only because you feel like you have to in order to carry on a relationship that you think is over, but you’re not quite ready to drop it yet? That’s what writing yesterday’s entry felt like. And that’s what today’s feels like. I just re-read yesterday’s post, realized I didn’t complete a number of thoughts in it and only said about half of what I intended to say, and found myself not caring in the least.
Moodiness is a big part of who I am, and right now it’s showing big-time.

I probably spent a total of three hours on the phone yesterday, troubleshooting an ACT! problem over the phone. ACT!’s an extremely finicky program, caring about things it shouldn’t care about (for instance, you can sabotoge ACT! by putting it on a LAN with a PC that has an apostrophe in its computer name–ACT! isn’t even supposed to use Microsoft Networking for anything!), and an ACT! database can become corrupt as Warren G. Harding’s cabinet just from simple use. Sometimes the built-in tools can recover, and sometimes they can’t. Corrupt a database, and you start a vicious downward cycle. ACT! crashes because the database is corrupt, further corrupting the database in many cases, making future crashes all the more common and all the more destructive. Making matters worse, ACT! seems to affect other apps as well. When ACT!’s unhappy, the whole computer’s unhappy.

Career advice: If you want job security, learn ACT! It’s extraordinarily popular, and maybe it’s extraordinarily good for the things people use it for–I have no idea, since I’m not in any of the businesses that seem to be addicted to ACT!–but it’s also extraordinarily finicky and easy to break, and therefore extraordinarily profitable for anyone who sets out to learn how to fix it. I’d be willing to bet SalesLogix makes more money off recovering corrupt databases than they do off new ACT! sales. I know a lot of consultants charge upwards $400 just to run ACTDIAG.EXE (included with the program) on mildly corrupted databases and get them back in business.

Anyway… That was my day.

Gatermann sent me some of the pictures he took last week when we were up on the roof of Gentry’s Landing and elsewhere. They’re pretty spectacular. His site’s acting up so he can’t post them right now, but presumably he’ll send me a link once they’re up. They’ll definitely be worth a look.

And I’m wondering what would happen if we ever teamed up his camera with my words. Would we work well together? Could we find a project that brought out both our best?

I’m back.

Very interesting. Just as everyone’s proclaiming Linux dead, Red Hat goes and turns a profit for the first time. Yes, there are too many Linux companies. Yes, there’ll be consolidation. No, I’m not convinced that selling it at retail is necessarily the best way to proliferate the system.
I also find it humorous that people like ZDNet’s David Coursey can struggle all weekend setting up a Windows server, yet state that Linux is no threat to Microsoft, even as a server. The implication is that Linux is too difficult. Give me a weekend–actually, more like 5 minutes, if you’ll spot me TurboLinux and a 50X CD-ROM drive–and I can have DNS going on Linux, easy. Give me a day, and I can have a lovely mail server going too. (I intended to do that just this past weekend, actually, but I couldn’t come up with a working ISA SCSI controller to pair up with my army of SCSI CD-ROMs to make it happen.)

Needless to say, this past week I lost most of what little respect I had for Coursey. VMWare runs Windows under Linux better than VirtualPC runs Windows on the Mac, and Coursey’s obviously never heard of it (see that second link).

Don’t get me wrong, Linux setups drive me up the wall sometimes. But I’ve had instances where Windows flat out wouldn’t install on perfectly good hardware, for no good reason, too. And since Linux servers are unencumbered by a GUI, multimedia, Pinball, Internet Exploiter, and other desktop stupidity that has no business on servers, they’re a whole lot easier to troubleshoot. You’ve got a kernel, a daemon or two, and a plaintext configuration file. That’s not much to break. Actually it’s good engineering–a machine should have no unnecessary parts.

So long, Cal Ripken. Cal Ripken announced he’s hanging it up yesterday morning. I had the pleasure of seeing Ripken play shortstop a couple of times in the early 1990s when the Orioles were in Kansas City. Today, in this era of A-Rod and Nomar and Jeter, Ripken’s offensive stats don’t seem so hot. But in the 1980s (and before), if your shortstop could hit .270 and steal the occasional base, you counted yourself very, very lucky. In those days, Ripken not only hit .270, he was consistently one of the best defensive shortstops in the American League. He was never as flashy as Ozzie Smith, but how many shortstops ever fielded .996? You’re happy to get that kind of a fielding percentage out of your first baseman, and first base is the easiest position to play. Not only that, Ripken was also good for 20-25 homers and 80+ RBIs. These days that doesn’t sound too impressive either, but remember that Ripken played the bulk of his career in an era when people rarely hit 40 homers–someone who could pop 30 was considered a real power threat.

And besides all that, Ripken played 2,632 consecutive games, shattering Lou Gehrig’s record of 2,130. Ripken played the majority of those games at shortstop (he also played some third base at the beginning and at the end). Gehrig played his games at first base and in left field, both much less demanding positions. And while Gehrig played every inning of every game just once, Ripken did it four times, in consecutive years (1983-1986).

Ripken’s really slowed down the past three years, but he did end his streak on his own terms before being cut down by injuries his final three seasons. He’s nowhere near the player he used to be. Then again, at the end of his career, Ernie Banks couldn’t hit or field, and he was playing first base. Ripken refuses to move from third to a less demanding position–partly out of pride, but partly because he’s still capable of playing third.

And we can’t forget his loyalty. Ripken’s played his entire career, from 1981 up until now, with Baltimore. You don’t see that much anymore.

I’m taking a couple of days off.

I’m taking a couple of days off. I’m overwhelmed. I very nearly forgot my sister’s birthday. I’ve made about $130 worth of mistakes in the past week. Due mostly to neglect, my apartment resembles the inside of the Cotton Belt Route freight depot, which has been a bonanza for vagrants for the past 20 years so you can imagine what that’s like.
I can’t afford to go on like this. Not financially. Not emotionally.

So I’m going to catch up. I’ll be back Tuesday. Maybe Wednesday.

If you’ve e-mailed me and I don’t respond, don’t take it personally. There are only 129 unread messages in my inbox. Buried in that mess, I know there are dozens of others I should respond to but haven’t.

Odds and ends

True tech support story. We’ve got a deployed user who’s having problems with his PC. I’ve been convinced for about the past three months that the problem is user-inflicted. I still don’t have any hard evidence of that, but man, did I get some circumstantial evidence this week. He’s always talking about how computer proficient he is, and how great his Gateway and Winbook PCs are (never mind how awful the Winbooks fare up in every reliability rating I’ve seen, and Gateway… don’t get me started).
Well, we had to help him get CompuServe set up. So we asked him for his CompuServe user ID and password, among other things. He typed it all up and faxed it to us. Right under his username was this:

Password: * (thirteen of these)

This self-styled computer genius thinks his CompuServe password is 13 asterisks!

Now, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with dedicating your life to knowing something else, like accounting, or music, or something like that. But don’t talk about how computer-savvy you are and question my computer competence if you think your CompuServe password is 13 asterisks!

Current events. I occasionally get e-mail about this or that. I think the most recent one I got was about public schools. I work hard to keep up on computers, of course, since that’s my career, and on issues directly related to Christianity, since that’s probably my biggest interest, and of course I’m comfortable talking music and baseball. But when it comes to things like gun control, or public education, or the death penalty… Yes, I have an opinion. No, it’s usually not strong enough that I’m going to make a big deal of it. No, I probably haven’t researched it enough to have anything compelling to say about it.

Do people want me to talk about this stuff? One of the things that annoys me the most is when I go to someone’s Weblog and all I find is links to a bunch of news stories and the author’s opinion of it, usually with lots of circular arguments. I’m quickly off looking for someone who’s a good storyteller or has content that interests me, preferably original stuff. So that’s where I naturally try to focus.

I’ve mulled over the idea of opening up a message board dedicated to issues, but I’m torn. The gun control debate that popped up here earlier this year really alienated some of my regulars. One quit talking to me altogether, I suspect because I wouldn’t agree with him. I hacked off one or two others when I wouldn’t continue it, but honestly, if the debate had been raging on someone else’s site, I wouldn’t have been reading it. So why participate in something I’m not interested in reading? And I’ve seen mailing lists totally degenerate over debates regarding questions that no one has any clear-cut answers to. People want everyone else on the list to agree with them, and when they don’t, it turns into a flame war, and the list dies.

Then again, if I were to open up such a board, there’s nothing saying I even have to read it. I can open it and people can talk if they want, and can leave when they want.

Any thoughts?

Why am I afraid of heights?

Well, our last photo shoot in the warehouse district didn’t go so well. Gatermann got some great shots, but the negatives ended up really hot and the processing lab didn’t know what to do with them, so the result was a bunch of washed-out pictures. The dark areas like the building and my black t-shirt ended up fine, but lighter areas, like, oh, my face, totally washed out.
So Tom Gatermann and I headed back out yesterday afternoon, with our buddy Tim Coleman tagging along. Tim provided comic relief; mostly at our expense. They found me a summer home–what looked like an abandoned ticket booth that was missing a door–and a couple of cars. One was an early eighties-something Oldsmobile with no tires. There was also a later-eighties GM car of some sort, smaller and front wheel-drive, also without tires. And there was an old Dodge van that had to have dated back to the late 70s. It had–honest–a Reagan ’84 bumper sticker on the back. On the other side it had a Bush ’88 bumper sticker. Tim noticed it first. I had to take a picture.

The warehouse district just seems to be the place to ditch a car that doesn’t run anymore and you don’t want to pay to tow away. Trust me–when you do, it doesn’t take long for people to start pillaging parts from it. You ditch your car, then the vultures swoop in and take anything usable from them. Strange system.

We ended up back at the old Cotton Belt Route Freight Depot. We explored that until about 8, then went off to get some dinner. Tim had told us about the place he was house-sitting. It’s an apartment on the 29th floor of The Gentry’s Landing, a high-rise downtown. It’s a corner apartment, with a great view of downtown and the Mississippi River. Open up the windows, and you can see it all. So after dinner we headed back there to check out how awful it is to be Tim these days. The view was every bit as spectacular as he said, and the windows were huge. I felt my fear of heights kick in when I stepped too close.

Out of curiosity, I looked the place up when I got home. Their apartment probably costs right around double what mine runs. Then again, it’s a whole lot bigger too.

Tom and I marveled at the view (Tom from right up against the window, me from the middle of the room), and then Tim said we ought to see it from the roof. So we headed up to the 29th floor, then took a flight of steps up onto the open roof. I proceeded–slowly–behind them. At one point Tim turned around. “We lost Dave. Oh,” then he looked my direction. I had trouble keeping up with them, and it wasn’t the soreness from the softball games. I hate heights. It’s weird, because I love airplanes, but get me high up in a building, or, worse yet, on the roof, and I go nuts.

Don’t get me wrong. It was nice. The breeze was fabulous up there, and the almost unobstructed view of St. Louis was great. From that distance, the Mississippi River is gorgeous. Turn your head and you see the Arch, I-70, the Trans World Dome… And it’s beautiful. Even I-70 is beautiful from that distance. I never knew an Interstate highway could be beautiful. I admired it all from the steps up to the main rail-enclosed platform. I looked around, all the while gripping the railing on the staircase, my hands dripping wet with cold sweat, my heart racing, and my legs tingling weirdly.

When Tom and Tim said, “Let’s go,” I didn’t argue. And somehow I moved a lot faster getting off the roof than I did getting on.

Building a Win95 box

Building a Windows 95 box? Why? You nuts?
Why not? You’ve got old hardware, you’ve got a ton of licenses to run an obsolete operating system… It’s a good match. Remember, a Pentium-120 was a titan of a PC in 1995. You couldn’t get anything faster. Running Windows 95 on a Pentium-120 with 24 MB RAM, 1.2 GB HD, and 8X CD-ROM in 1995 seemed like running Windows 2000 on a decked-out 1.4 GHz Athlon today. Maybe it seemed even more extreme than that; I remember selling a good number of 486DX2/66s and DX4/100s in the summer of 1995. They were low-end, yes, but they were at that $1,000 sweet spot. You’d pick up a DX2/66 for $800 and a 14″ monitor for $200, and sometimes as a weekend special we’d bundle the two together with a printer for $1,099 or something.

We had a Pentium-120 to rebuild at work, and we had its Win95 license, so it made sense to just rebuild it with the stuff it had. I know Jerry Pournelle had a really hard time building a Win95 box a few months back. I didn’t have much trouble at all, so I might as well document the pitfalls.

First of all, I used vintage hardware. That helps. Win95 was designed for 1995-era hardware. This PC probably dates from 1996 or so; it has the strange pairing of an Intel 430HX chipset and a Pentium-120. The 120 was more frequently bundled with the earlier 430FX chipset; by the time of the HX, the 133 was considered low-end, the 200 high-end, and the 166 was mainstream. The video card was a plain old Cirrus Logic-based PCI card; no issues there. AGP sometimes threw Win95 for a loop. None of that here. While DMA drivers certainly improved the 430HX, they weren’t necessary for stable performance. In other words, a 430HX-based board with a Cirrus video card works acceptably straight out of the box, with no additional drivers.

Other hardware: A Mitsumi 8X CD-ROM. I don’t remember exactly when 8X came out, but for the most part an IDE CD-ROM is an IDE CD-ROM, from a driver standpoint. A Creative Labs Sound Blaster 16. That was a very common, very well-supported sound card. A DEC 450 network card. Those DEC cards can be a real pain to get working sometimes, but Win95 surprised me and detected it straight up.

But Setup wouldn’t run initially. It took some figuring, but I solved that problem. My colleague had booted with a Win98 boot disk I made over a year ago. He did an FDISK and format to wipe the drive, but he formatted the drive FAT32. The original Win95 didn’t know about FAT32, so Setup was throwing a hissy fit when it saw it. I did another FDISK and format, switched to plain old FAT16, and Setup installed very happily.

Once I got Setup to run, it installed, and quickly at that. And with absolutely no issues. Remember, Win95’s footprint was only about 35 megs. It doesn’t take long for an 8X drive to deliver 35 megs. And the system booted quickly. I didn’t sit down and time it, but I’m used to calling a minute a reasonably fast boot time, and this thing didn’t seem slow to me at all. A little optimization would help, of course. A little logo=0 in c:msdos.sys goes a long way.

Running Win95 on newer hardware is possible, but remember, it’s been nearly four years since it was the mainstream OS. And you can have a lot of headaches trying to do it. Windows 3.1 is in the same boat–it’s downright hard to find device drivers for modern video cards. Then again, I can think of circumstances under which I’d want to run Win95. I can’t think of any compelling reason whatsoever to run Win3.1 at this point in time. (And there wasn’t any compelling reason to run it in 1994 either.)

If I had to build up a Win95 box today and could have whatever components I wanted, I’d probably look for an Asus P55T2P4, easily the best Socket 7 motherboard ever manufactured. (In 1997 when I was in the market, I opted for an Abit IT5H instead and I’m still kicking myself.) That board is most naturally paired with a Pentium-MMX/233, but with unsupported–but widely-documented online–voltage settings, you can run more recent K6-2 CPUs on it. The P55T2P4 allows an FSB of up to 83 MHz, but for stability’s sake, I’d keep it at 66 MHz, or possibly 68 MHz if the board supports it (I don’t remember anymore). You can run a K6-2/400 with a 6x multiplier at either of those settings and be very close to its rated speed. Then I’d use an ATI Xpert 98 video card. Yes, it’s a bit old, but it’s probably the best all-around PCI card that’s still reasonably easy to find. Win95 won’t recognize it without manufacturer-supplied drivers, of course, but that’s not so bad. This combination would give you surprisingly good performance, stability, and minimal difficulty of installation.

Anyway, that adventure reminded me that a Pentium-120 can still be a viable computer. Vintage software like Win95 runs well on it. Office 95 has more features than most of us use, and it’s faster and more stable than the recent incarnations. It also has fewer strings attached. IE 5.01, although recent, would run decently on a P120, as long as you left out Active Desktop. Acrobat Reader 3.0 will still read the majority of PDF files on the Web, and it’s smaller and faster-loading than more recent versions. Do a Web search; you can still find it online.

Don’t get carried away with what you install, and a P120 can certainly surprise you.

Ugh. I’m finally home.

Yep, finally home. I was coming down off a big high–we won a doubleheader; I went 2 for 3 the first game, 1 for 3 the second, scored all three times I was on base, and had an assist and a putout.
But I got my come-down. Tonight was the final, I-really-am-leaving-tomorrow get-together for my friend John and the group of friends he’s assembled here. And that was tough. We gathered at a pub, had some beer and potato chips and other bar fare, and just enjoyed being together one last time. I see most of these people a couple of times a week anyway, but John kind of became the heart and soul of the group. Well, that’s not entirely true. John was probably the soul. We’ve still got the heart, and she’ll be around a while.

John said a lot of things that made me think, but I’ll save those things for another time. Suffice it to say, for now, he’s going through a lot right now, and they’re things we all need to consider, and he looks at those issues from a perspective I’ve never seriously considered before. Right now, frankly I need to just cry and get it over with, but it’s been a really long time since I’ve been able to just do that.

There are some friends you just wish you spent more time with when you had the chance. It’s not like I’ll never see John again–he’s got family here, so he’s been coming to St. Louis a couple times a year his whole life and doesn’t expect that to change. But it’ll never be quite the same again.

I need to find a way to not make that same mistake twice.

Conspiracies, conspiracies everywhere

The topic of the day yesterday was Timothy McVeigh. I’d forgotten that yesterday was his day–I saw the lead story on The Kansas City Star announcing McVeigh was dead yesterday morning when I went to read up on the day’s events.
McVeigh raises a lot of uncomfortable questions. So let’s go back to a year after the Oklahoma City bombing, because that was when I got my wakeup call.

I was a crime reporter for the Columbia Missourian, a flaming liberal little daily newspaper in, frankly, what would be a worthless little town if it weren’t for the University of Missouri being there. But Columbia is situated in the middle of nowhere; aside from Columbia and Jefferson City, Central Missouri has no good-sized towns, and those two “cities” are cities only by Missouri standards. St. Louis has suburbs bigger than either of them. Central Missouri is backward, or rural, or backward and rural, depending on where you go.

Well, a guy by the name of Don Albright drove to Columbia one night and got drunk. He was pulled over, ticketed, and charged with driving while intoxicated. Albright maintained it was his constitutional right to drive drunk. Actually, he said his constitutional right to travel was being violated. “A driver is for hire,” Albright told me. “A traveler is a private citizen.”

I had a very long conversation with Albright. Albright was one of the biggest conspiracy theorists I’d ever talked to. He believed the United States was still technically a collection of British colonies; that there are actually two United States of Americas; that the Civil War, World Wars I and II, the Great Depression, and the Kennedy Assassination were all directly linked and part of the same conspiracy, and other bizarre beliefs. Another belief he shared with me was the New World Order, a belief Timothy McVeigh shared.

He was also militant. He took out liens on judges and prosecuting attorneys. And, on the first anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing, Albright, along with others, threatened to attack government buildings as well as press organizations that didn’t “tell what was really going on.”

By this time, I was on Albright’s black list. One of his friends anonymously called me one day and told me to watch my back, so I took the threats seriously. I consciously avoided the newsroom, courthouse, post office, and police station that day. Fortunately, nothing eventful happened.

I suspect Albright’s motivation was primarily racial. During that single conversation, he brought up plenty of racial overtones. When we investigated him further, what we discovered was a person who didn’t want to accept any responsibility for his own past.

Albright had numerous supporters in and around Columbia. I spoke with a number of them outside the Boone County courthouse on the day of one of Albright’s scheduled court appearances. The only one who would give me his name was a guy by the name of Hobbes (I think his first name was Ken). An older woman, who would only go by “Mrs. Hobbes,” (I assume she was his mother), talked to me a little bit less. They were certainly fundamentalist Christians. They gave me pamphlets, a Constitutional Driver’s License (whereby I could grant myself the right to travel the nation’s roads freely), a copy of the Constitution, information on how I could secede from the United States and become a sovereign citizen, and other materials. But they sang exactly the same song Albright did, though Albright appeared to be racially motivated.

In 1992, while a senior in high school, I met a conspiracy theorist of another feather. He was a fervent believer in the writings of George Adamski, a UFO author who claimed he had been visited by beings from a yet-undiscovered planet in the solar system. Adamski, as I recall, had been widely discredited in the 1960s. But this guy’s beliefs (I don’t recall his name anymore, unfortunately) fit these others like a hand in a glove. He, too, spoke of the New World Order, the Trilateral Commission, and other oddities.

So… There are plenty of kooks like McVeigh out there. Some of them, like the last one I mentioned, are quirky but harmless. Albright, I believe, could be extremely dangerous. And, interestingly enough, although each type begins with a different premise at heart, they all come to nearly identical conclusions.

The common thread is that none of them trust the government and none of them fully understand the world around them. That’s fine. I don’t trust the government and I certainly don’t understand everything about the world around me. You can do one of two things when that happens. You can just accept that you don’t know everything and you never will know everything, and just try to understand the things that interest you or the things that affect you as best as you possibly can.

Or you can explain it all away as a giant conspiracy. Of course you can’t be the one that’s messed up. The rest of the world around you is messed up. And they’re doing it on purpose!

Time for a reality check.

Hard Fact Number One: Members of the hard left are every bit as disillusioned as members of the hard right. Most of my college professors despised Bill Clinton every bit as much as I did. They were liberal. We’ve got people on the hard left who can’t get what they want. We’ve got people on the hard right who can’t get what they want. [observation]Isn’t that called compromise?[/observation]

Hard Fact Number Two: It’s difficult to get people to cooperate with one another. It’s even more difficult to get organizations to cooperate with one another. If you spend any length of time within an organization of any considerable size, you begin to wonder how it keeps from unraveling just because of internal politics. And these are people who share the same interests! Want an example of how conspiracies are so difficult? Fine. Here’s one: Oracle and Sun and the United States Government against Microsoft. Remember how they bungled that one? And why? None of the parties could figure out what exactly they wanted on their own, let alone what they wanted collectively.

Conspiracies can happen. But they’re rare and generally short-lived.

McVeigh killed 168 people. Or, at the very least, McVeigh participated in the killing of 168 people. We don’t know if he and Terry Nichols acted alone. Probably not–there was a John Doe No. 2 who was never found. But McVeigh did kill innocent people, and he did it willfully and he expressed no remorse.

Yes, the United States Government is partially responsible for that. The Clinton administration did a lot of detestable things. Part of that was because Bill Clinton is and was a hopeless idealist, and he surrounded himself with the same types of people. They didn’t know how to handle people who didn’t share their worldview. And most of them probably didn’t forsee the possibility of a McVeigh-like backlash to Waco and Ruby Ridge. Holding the government accountable for those actions is necessary. Not handing the presidency to Al Gore is a good start, but that’s only a start. And the country was bitterly divided over that.

If you want to take that argument to its logical conclusion, who was it that put that administration in office? Hint: If you live in the United States, scroll up to the top of this page, get a good look at my picture, then go look in the mirror. You and I did that. But you didn’t vote for him, you say? Neither did I. Fifty-seven percent of us didn’t. The problem was, the 57% of us who wanted someone else couldn’t agree on the someone else to put in office, and we paid the price. But the fact is, most of us don’t care. So, since we put this government in place, aren’t we also responsible for its actions, especially when we refuse to fundamentally change it?

But blaming the United States Government for Timothy McVeigh’s actions is childish. When I was in fifth grade, another kid named Benji used to act up and then blame his poor behavior on the outcome of the 1985 World Series. There is no difference. Benji wasn’t mature enough to deal with his disappointment about the baseball season in a socially responsible manner. Timothy McVeigh wasn’t mature enough to deal with his disappointment with the government’s behavior in a socially responsible manner. The St. Louis Cardinals didn’t make Benji misbehave, and the U.S. Government didn’t make McVeigh blow up that building. The victims of McVeigh’s atrocity deserve better than that kind of logic.

Yes, the government is partially responsible because McVeigh’s actions are the consequence of some of its own actions. And the government’s job is to clean up its own mess. I’m not convinced it’s totally done that. But McVeigh was guilty, and he even admitted his guilt. The U.S. Government did what its laws call for it to do. So it actually owned up for once.

Don’t get used to it. Except for it only partially cleaning up, that is.

And, like it or not, McVeigh is now a martyr in some circles. Actually he’s been a martyr since the day of his arrest. But there’s a grain of truth in McVeigh’s beliefs. Our government is out of control, it’s irresponsible, and it’s not accountable to anyone.

But that’s our fault. Our government is supposed to be accountable to us, and as long as our Congressmen send plenty of pork back home, we keep them in office. And we vote for our presidents whimsically. The government knows that as long as they give us bread and circuses, we don’t care about much else.

And if we want to keep this kind of crap from ever happening again, we’re going to have to start giving a crap about more than just food and entertainment.

I’m not holding my breath.

Back behind the camera again

Yesterday was interesting. I’ve been learning how to operate a video camera. I’m not talking a $399 camcorder from Best Bait-n-Switch here. Those are toys. I’m talking a real, live, camera, like you’d find in a TV studio or a sporting event. A camera that gathers up all available light possible, encodes the picture digitally on ridiculously expensive mini-DV tapes, and gives an absolutely gorgeous picture in most possible conditions, provided there’s a competent operator behind it who can find things compelling enough to shoot and keep them in focus. No autofocus here. It displays what you shoot with it, how you shoot it, whether idiotic or inspired.
I’m also afraid to take the thing anywhere because it costs half as much as my car. (No, I didn’t pay for it. And no, it’s not mine.)

I’ve shot video with it exactly four times now. One of those projects never saw the light of day. Two of the others won’t see the light of day until we get some semi-professional-grade video editing equipment. Yesterday was the first time my camera skills (or lack thereof) were on display, because I wasn’t taping–what my camera saw was projected, live, onto TV monitors throughout the building and two huge projection screens.

I hate TV, so I’m a bit surprised that I enjoy doing this. I guess it’s not video that I dislike after all–it’s how video is misused that I hate. Sticking a microphone in some distraught soul’s face after a tragedy and asking how they feel, then putting it on TV where some game show host-types can comment on it and act sad. Cheap, mindless, crude, lowest-common-denominator art.

The first thing I noticed is that the viewfinder is fine for finding yourself crudely, but under these lighting conditions it always pretty much looks in focus. I haven’t exactly developed an eye yet to tell from the viewfinder how things will look. We’ve got a little 9″ composite monitor hooked up to it to help–what you see there is roughly what you’ll see on TV. It’s a higher quality display than some cheap TVs, so if it looks good there, it’ll look good on any TV. Those projection screens are a challenge. They’re higher resolution than TV, so a slightly out-of-focus picture that still looks perfect on the monitor can look like garbage on the screens. It’s disconcerting to get what looks like a great shot, then cut to it and see it look awful on the screens. All I can do is make a quick adjustment off the screen and go.

I approach camera work from a print journalist’s perspective. When you’re recording events, you develop a gut feeling for what people find interesting, whether your medium is the printed or spoken word or still or moving pictures. That’s learned but can’t really be taught. From my design classes I know that the visual center of everything is slightly up and left of center. When you center something perfectly, it doesn’t look quite right. Also from design classes I know the rule of thirds–divide a picture into thirds, and those intersections of the lines are the points that people generally find interesting, so when you compose your shot, you want to put the important things in those areas. Once you know what you’re doing, you completely forget the rule of thirds and go with your instinct. I’m not there yet.

A lot of the camera work is a no-brainer. You find the person who’s speaking, then keep the speaker in the frame and in focus. But at one point the speaker focussed on an object, so it was pretty obvious–to me at least–what to do. Get off the speaker and focus on that object for a minute. The problem was, that object was directly behind the speaker, and huge! Switching focus smoothly from the upper three feet of the speaker to a 15-foot object a few feet above and behind him… Well, I couldn’t do it too well. I shot violently upward with the camera, and violently back, and I still didn’t have the object filling the frame. I moved a bit more smoothly back, and then somehow got it in focus. I stayed there for a minute, then I trained back on the speaker. In retrospect, I should have cut back even further, brought him into the frame, then slowly zoomed back in on him. I’ll do that next time.

But that was an inspired move, I think. The speaker wanted the audience to focus on that object. If they weren’t focusing on it before, when they saw the movement on the projection screens, I got them to pay attention to it, if only for a moment. People instinctively pay attention to things that move, particularly when they’re focussed on something else. That’s one of the reasons why animated ads on the Web are so annoying. It’s hard for us to focus on anything else when ads are blinking at us.

Maybe I’m being pretentious. I was shooting a church service. Many in my audience see 50 of them a year. A fair number of them see more than 100. But I don’t like being competent at something. I don’t even like being good at something, usually. I want to be one of the best, so I’ll try to do the things that the best do. Given the choice between looking incompetent trying to do something the very best would do and looking competent by not taking any chances, I’ll take my chances each and every time.

Building a dual-boot W2K/Mandrake 8 box

We descended on Steve DeLassus’ place yesterday afternoon for a hair-pulling configuration adventure. Steve introduced me to two Linux gurus he knows from work, Adam and Jamin.
Steve told me once that there’s a story with Jamin’s name, but I didn’t think to ask Jamon for his version. No surprise; we had battles to fight and eventually win.

Adam’s big story is his degree. He put in his five years and completed all of his coursework, only to find that it’s necessary to file an intent to graduate. I seem to remember that where I went to school, signing up for the required classes and then showing up served as ample intent to graduate, but maybe my school wasn’t that enlightened. So, since Adam didn’t find out until it was too late that he had to file a piece of paper before he could get that piece of paper that tells people you know something, he’s enrolled in summer school, taking zero credit hours. But he filed his piece of paper, so another more expensive piece of paper should be coming his way soon.

I gave Steve’s new FIC AZ11-based Duron PC a once-over in the BIOS. I disabled all the ROM shadowing and ROM caching, since neither Windows nor Linux make use of it, and why waste cache bandwidth–even just a little bit of it–on something you’ll never use? Then I put in some more aggressive memory timings–CAS 2, turbo, FSB+33 MHz (since this is PC133 memory on a Duron).

Then, since this is a dual-boot system, we installed Windows 2000. While Steve wasn’t looking, it asked for locale settings. I decided to be nice–I could have set it to Hebrew, Arabic, or all kinds of goofy stuff. I set it to Zimbabwe English. I didn’t specify a timezone, so for whatever reason, it defaulted to Tijuana.

Steve saw it later because Windows put a locale icon in the toolbar. He hovered over it and it said “Zimbabwe English.” He said something, with some new word I’d never heard before that starts with “f,” and it appeared to be every part of speech in the sentence. I’ll have to ask him sometime what that means.

With Windows installed and properly configured for use in English-speaking Zimbabwe, we turned to Mandrake 8. All went well until the time came to configure LILO. The defaults would have worked but they seemed wrong, so we changed them. The machine booted into Windows. We booted off the Mandrake 8 CD and chose recovery mode. We spent half an hour dinking around and not really getting anywhere. So Steve and I made a boot disk with his other Mandrake box (the mkbootdisk command is your friend). Adam was adamant that we didn’t need that. We’d fixed the textfile that needed fixing (/etc/lilo.conf) but running LILO to activate it was the problem–we couldn’t mount the drive at /. Finally Adam or Jamin stumbled on the -r switch for LILO, which fixed the problem.