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I am trying to figure out where I got the method for keeping a work to-do list that I find actually useful, and I am pretty sure that I got it at least 15 years ago from a programming blog post or something similar, but my web searches to try to find it again have come up completely short. (Maybe it's in a book of the era?) If anyone recognizes this, I'd be very grateful.

The gist is pretty much this:

  • There are three sections in the list: "TODAY", "LANDING PAD", and ... I'm sure there was a name for it, but it's basically "THE LIST".

  • Every morning, you go through THE LIST and select what you will work on that day, and move it to TODAY. Then you work on those things.

  • When you think of things through the day, you note them in the LANDING PAD.

  • At the end of the day, you take a bit of time to consider how the day went compared to the TODAY list, and whether you're expecting too much or too little. Then move whatever's left in TODAY back to THE LIST, along with whatever appeared in LANDING PAD.

  • On a regular basis, clear things out of THE LIST that aren't getting done and can be jettisoned.

One key piece is that there is no overall priority for items; the effort to try to assign that "accurately" is high and the value is low because things change often. There is also the key piece (for me) that managing the list happens in specific time blocks, not whenever one thinks of something to add. And the mindfulness of the beginning-of-day and end-of-day parts I find quite useful too.

The one thing I've personally added is a DONE list, where I move things from the TODAY list when I complete them. It's useful for writing up "what I did this week" logs and such, and for general satisfaction of crossing things off. (I think the original version of this was on paper, so the TODAY items would just be crossed off but still readable.)

Anyway, I would very much like to cite the source for this, but I can't find it, so hopefully someone either recognizes it or has better search-fu than I do!
brooksmoses: (Two)
Copying a comment I made on this Behind the Bastards vidcast episode on Thomas Kincade:
I think one interesting thing about Kinkade's art comes up in the juxtaposition of his goal "to make people feel good" while, as you mention about 44:30, the only emotion that he tries to put in to do that is "comfort". I'm looking around my dining room as I'm watching this, and on my walls I have three photographs and a pencil drawing that IMO are reasonably good art, and all of them are there mostly just make me feel good. But they have a range of emotions behind that feeling, and only a little of that is comfort.

It kind of comes off like Kincade is ... well, to allude to a Princess Bride quote, it comes off like he's selling something, and not just in the literal sense of selling the art. By forcefully denying that life contains other things besides absence-of-pain, his art is selling something that can be a lot the "be quiet and don't worry and everything is okay" sort of emotional direction that tempting fairy-tale villains use to seduce the heroes into their traps. I expect this is why it goes so well with the Chthuloid horrors and the Star Wars militaria.
It's an interesting episode, and I'd recommend it pretty highly. Also it guest-stars Randy Millholland, who I only knew from his Something Positive webcomic, and it turns out (as one might expect from the comic) he's a fascinating person. And he looks nothing like what I imagined him to look like from reading the webcomic, but apparently that's just me.

Also there's some interesting parallels between what Kincade was doing and what people who are generating a lot of viral AI-generated images that are going around recently are trying to do.
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Stewart Hicks just posted a interesting and also amusingly snarky but also thoughtful video on Mies van der Rohe's architecture at IIT and some of the surrounding and subsequent context, and I wrote a rather long comment that I'm archiving here and sharing for you all.

The video was a bit of an experimental format -- and you might want to go watch it before I spoil the details -- and commenters were mixed on how well it worked. I was responding to a particular comment that said it fell flat and also felt like a cheap take-down of Mies, and Hicks had replied to say that that hadn't been his intention.

My reply:
[profile] stewarthicks : I think in some ways the implementation was flawed, in that the "original" video often contained the contradiction of views within itself. You mentioned the tone being a bit uneven in a few spots, and I think some of that was that in parts of it you were genuinely talking about the good things in the architecture, and in parts of it you were talking about how "great" the thermal bridging and rust-stains were. And so the overall video contained a duality of being a "pro vs. con" video and being a "sarcastic criticism supported by thoughtful criticism" video.

With that said, I personally have two orthogonal appreciations for it. First, I enjoyed it as entertainment; it is a visceral delight to see some of these aspects of architecture being so well skewered in the ways that they deserve. Second, I appreciated it as an experiment; even though I agree with [the previous commenter] that it's flawed, it's trying something different and finding out what works and what doesn't, and making something new. That which doesn't change becomes repetitive, and I would guess that even if you don't do another video "like this one", your videos will still be more interesting in the future as a result of this.

Besides which, YouTube videos aren't public buildings; even if it is completely no good at all, it won't destroy a neighborhood in order to doom multiple generations of students to an uncomfortable, badly-climate-controlled, depressing, and terrible classroom experience. So you might as well try some things that are likely to be interesting failures every once in a while.

Meanwhile, I think this video succeeded in one of its goals: I now would be fascinated to see some deeper explorations of a lot of the topics that you touched on here. Certainly the practices of treating vibrant lower-class neighborhoods as tabula rasa to build a sweeping new vision of a mono-plan piece of city didn't start with Mies, or with the builders of IIT. Where did it start? What cultural and architectural forces fed it? Was it as big a thing in European cities as in the U.S., and if so, was it at similar times or much earlier because the cities are older? Then, with Mies and the "minimalist" movement: Insofar as the minimalist movement takes Meis as its patron saint, how much was and is it following what he actually intended, and how much is it a misunderstood and minimalized corruption of his ideas? What are the corruptions missing? This architecture seems to have some commonalities with the Craftsman ideal of "honesty of materials", but also differences in that some commenters mentioned that those steel beams are not actually structural in the way they appear -- how did Mies and its other originators think about that connection? Some other commenters mentioned that one of the things that distinguishes genuine Mies buildings from bad imitations is a precise use of proportion and spatial relationships -- is it perhaps that minimalist buildings are not so much inherently bad but inherently difficult, and so they show shortcomings in design and maintenance far more than maximalist buildings? And perhaps the failings of the IIT campus and surroundings are not because of the minimalism so much as because the minimalism lays bare the places where Mies's architecture missed the mark, and the places where the maintainers and city planners very definitely did?

In any case, I am fascinated by the video many paragraphs after having watched it, and I would be delighted if you were to produce videos going further into any or all of this. Even if, and perhaps especially if, the videos are their own experiments with their own unique and interesting ways of missing some marks.
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That was weird.

I was editing the previous post, and was adding a sentence starting with "I know", and had formed the words in the part of my mind that does the word-forming and where the "internal voice" comes from, but my fingers typed "I think".

That is clearly not a simple hit-the-wrong-key mistyping, or a spelling error. My perception is that I mentally formed the word "know", and I was aware of the shape of the spelling, and the roundness and sound of the "o" in the middle of it, as well as it being specifically the word I wanted. And what came out of my fingers was a related and entirely different word, as if whatever separate part of my mind is controlling my fingers was lagging behind and using predictive text to figure out what word to type next and simply made a reasonable guess and missed.

Which is probably not that far off of the truth, I imagine.

I think that this rarely comes up because often I think through the full sentence and then start typing, and I was typing sooner this time, and also the predictive text generator is pretty accurate.

But, yeah, that was weird to watch as it happened.
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In comments on this video by Ginny Di on cursed items in D&D and similar games -- specifically, the video is on why they often end up being annoying to players and detract from the game, rather than being something interesting and fun.

In the comments, someone mentioned that they'd like to do more with compulsions and fear and charm spells and such in their game, but any time they do that to the PCs, the players always try to talk their way out of it with things like, "But I'd notice this wasn't something I normally would do, so I'd recognize that I was cursed and ignore the compulsion" and such. To which I replied:
There's a certain amount of "if the players don't like playing with mental-compulsion effects, find some different kinds of tools to play with" that applies here, but I think you could also do some useful things with pulling from how ADHD and OCD and depression and other sorts of real-world compulsions and altered mental states affect people. Instead of simply saying "you can't" or "you must", give them some mechanical consequences.

One option, drawing somewhat from depression, is "you believe that this line of thinking is entirely in character." When the character is compelled to act a certain way, what happens is that the reasons they would do that thing feel very important and easy to imagine, and all the reasons that they would not do that thing feel very unimportant (if not entirely false) and difficult to imagine. The world to you looks like a world in which doing the thing is something you would completely-in-character choose to do. (But I'd notice that something has changed? Maybe, but this affects how you perceive the past as well as the present. Roll a wisdom check to see if you actually can tell something's up. And even if you pass, the world still looks very wrong so it's quite difficult to figure out what's real and what's compulsion, especially since it's mostly in gradiations of things.)

Another, drawing somewhat from OCD, is sure, you can avoid the compulsion. Roll a willpower check to do anything else. Difficulty increases each time you do. Fail the willpower check, and you don't do anything. Take disadvantage to intelligence and perception, because you're distracted, and that gets worse the longer you avoid the compulsion. Soon you're also taking constitution hits, because the stress levels are making you physically ill. If you successfully avoid it long enough, you're a shaking immobile lump. But, sure, you can avoid it if you want to.

Or, drawing somewhat from ADHD, doing anything else requires fighting distraction constantly, and fighting minor physical discomforts, and those distractions always lead back around to thinking about the thing you're being compelled to do. Alternately, if you are thinking about that thing, there's a penalty to perceiving anything that would be related to doing something else. Your party member is yelling at you not to put the chalice on the altar? Yes, they're right next to you -- but you still have to succeed on a difficult perception check to notice that it's not just some random unimportant noise. Waving hands in front of your face, or holding you back? Perception check to notice that there is some meaning attached to the gesture rather than just an annoying impediment with no more meaning than mud on your glasses or a stuck boot.

Hypnosis and mind-altering drugs of various sorts could also be relevant here, as sources to pull from. Can you ignore the hallucination? Sure you could -- but would you, in character, actually ignore a ten-foot-tall fire-breathing evil paladin bearing down on you with a greatsword and screaming "die" in ways that are causing rocks to literally fall from the ceiling? And, if you do, are you then able to ignore the feeling that your arm has been cut off, with consequent gushing of blood and feelings of faintness? Maybe if you crit on a perception check to tell that this is a hallucination, and also crit on a willpower check to believe it, but even so, that hallucinated paladin is still going to be remarkably distracting and affect your other rolls.

But, yeah, if the players just want to argue their way out of the hallucinated paladins and warped perceptions rather than having fun with the consequences, maybe for that group of players it's better to stick to the real paladins attacking them.

I'd be curious about thoughts and expansions on this. (I know the "somewhat"s in "drawing somewhat from" are doing a lot there to cover for broad-brush and simplistic interpretations, especially for the things I haven't experienced firsthand.)
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From elsenet, 40 random questions. At least, it's described as being 40; I didn't count to see whether the list had mutated since that description was written!

memery behind cut-tag )
brooksmoses: (Brooks and Suzanne)
I happened to find the live feed from nasaspaceflight.com a few minutes before the official "go for launch" poll to take the spacecraft off of the T-10 minute hold, so Suzanne and I watched it from there to about 25 minutes after launch.

It was a glorious and absolutely nominal launch, at least up to the current point. The first stage has separated and is continuing up by momentum to about 1800 kilometers in altitude before coming back down, hitting the atmosphere at orbital speeds, and splashing whatever doesn't burn up into the Pacific somewhere between here and Hawaii. The second stage has spread its solar arrays and is about ten minutes away from a small orbit-adjustment burn, and some longer time (an hourish, I think?) away from the long burn to get it heading to the moon.

Suzanne also told me about the story of how it got named. Usually the naming of these things takes many meetings and much discussion. This one apparently took a few minutes -- there was a bit of opening discussion, someone said "we're sending women to the moon, of course we're naming it Artemis, right?" and that was pretty much the end of the discussion.

Oh, and we're about to the orbit-adjustment burn. ... Sounds like that was as expected as well; they had live video from the solar array that didn't have an angle to show the engine or exhaust, but did show that the camera mount (and presumably the array) was waving back and forth a bit from being shoved by the thrust. We're a half-hour or so from the lunar injection burn.

Anyway. Just a few weeks short of 50 years since we launched the previous human-rated rocket to the moon, and a whole Space Shuttle program and a lot more in the interim, and we are back to this point again.

There is something reassuring about the fact that, when we are building rockets this way where the goal is not "iterate on a lot of launches cheaply and collect data from the failures" but is to use well-tested technology and NASA-grade "waterfall" development processes and plan the everliving heck out of things, we can make a thing that works like this.

And, yeah, it's spaceflight; it's not going to always work like this even with the best of reliability design and planning, I know. It's going to be subject to the same sorts of failings that brought us the non-sealing o-rings and the assumptions that ice falling on the heat-shield tiles wasn't a problem, and beyond those to the things that can't be prevented, because this is pretty close to the largest amount of power that any human-made system ever tries to control, and space is an unforgiving environment, and there are still unknowns.

But right now, we have a rocket that has gone through an hour and eight minutes of flight on its way to the moon, and its successors will be capable of taking humans on that ride with them and bringing them home, and I am feeling really happy about that. Thousands of people chose to spend a significant fraction of their lives on making this thing happen, and millions of us have had at least some little part in it, and it flew. It is flying.
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I was having a conversation with a friend to generate some ideas for a game they are running in which one of the characters (an archivist) is experiencing a hallucination, and one of the kernels of dream-logic conversation ended up with me writing a bit of librarian horror, which I am sharing here now that the players have actually played through the relevant scenes and so this won't be a spoiler for them.

Horror behind cut tags. No jump-scares involved. )
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I posted this in a YouTube comment -- "That Chemist" is collecting firsthand stories of chem-lab disasters and near-disasters and narrating them -- and I thought some of my readers here might also enjoy the reminiscence. This doesn't involve any disasters (except for one experimentally-invalid lab design in a college lab class), but other commenters had mentioned cases where a "fill up a balloon with acetylene and ignite it" demonstration was rather more exciting than expected.

Chemistry behind this solvent-proof cut-tag blast shield )

Random Rush

Apr. 3rd, 2022 12:53 am
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So, I ended up wandering a bit down an internet rabbithole this evening (thanks to a link off Tom Scott's excellent newsletter), and ended up at a rather amusing instance of what modern computer technology can generate to entertain us. In particular, I fed it some appropriate Rush songs about paths created by randomness and about things being eternal, at least for a while.

And then I was reminded that I really would like some good fanfic about "Dreamline". There doesn't seem to be any yet, but I did come up with something tagged with the phrase, "This fic draws some inspirations from the music of Rush and the writings of Ayn Rand."
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It is a source of annoyance that nominal atmospheric pressure at sea level in metric units is about 101 kPa, or 1.01 bar in informal metric units, rather than being equal to a nice round "one bar".

However, today I discovered that -- making allowances for imprecision of topographical maps of Paris and of interpolating on atmosphere-vs-altitude charts -- the nominal atmospheric pressure at the International Bureau of Weights and Measures in Paris is, in fact 100 kPa to at least three digits of precision.
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Those of you who know Alma Alexander, or who know of her, are likely to be interested in this kickstarter she is running.
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Since it is the season for these things.

I lived in Mountain View, CA, and slept in our house there.
I visited my mother in North Myrtle Beach, SC, and slept in her condo there.
I visited Guerneville, CA, and slept in a rented vacation house there.

The middle trip involved plane flights, SFO->CLT->MYR and MYR->CLT->SFO. I may have napped during the plane flights.

That is all.

Well, almost all; in non-overnight trips from home, I drove as far south as Gilroy (45 miles), as far east as Oakland (45 miles), and as far north as San Rafael (60 miles), and as far west as Santa Cruz (40 miles). For values of "north", "east", "south", and "west" that are appropriately skewed to Bay-Area-logical rather than the compass directions, of course.

I went to my office in Sunnyvale twice. This is the first year of my life that I have not been on our farm in Virginia.
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Sometime in the last month or so, someone wrote a post commenting about the "The Flash" movie not being the movie they wished it was (or something like that?) and then either linking to or including a fanfic about time travel and the things that require a villain rather than a hero to save the world.

I want to share it with someone, and I haven't been able to find it. Does anyone else remember and have a pointer?
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This is purportedly from the Railway Review, August 26th, 1893. It's both an example of the sort of hazards that could befall a person riding on a train at the end of the 1800s, and also of the way that newspaper people wrote about such things. (The paragraph breaks are mine; if there were any in the original, they were lost somewhere before the text got to me.)

One of the Pennsylvania fast trains that do good by bringing Philadelphia within suburban time of New York, remarks the New York Sun, is known to the railroad people as the "7:30," because it leaves Philadelphia at that hour in the morning. It runs without a stop, and takes water on the run out of a long trough between the rails near Edgley. A scoop is let down from beneath the tender into the trough.

Yesterday morning the first coach of the train contained about thirty passengers. Some of them were women... Well, no one was thinking about water trough or the water until suddenly the front door of the coach next to the engine was burst in by a broad stream of water, like that thrown by a water tower at a fire. In just one second every man and woman was standing, and in another they were all sitting, sitting on the backs of their seats to keep their feet out of the stream of water that rushed along the car floor with such force as to roll the isle carpet up into a wet wad which landed against the rear door and dammed the flood there, and also prevented the door from being opened.

No one had the remotest idea what was going on. The passengers were all getting a shower bath and the car was rapidly being converted into a pond. There were a great many cries of alarm, but no one offered any advice, for a huge stream of water pouring thru the front door of a lighting train on a cloudless day offered no suggestion to even the most expert advice giver. It was very lively while it lasted, but was all over in 20 seconds. Then the water drained out of the car and the passengers began making investigations.

The water tender had been filled before the end of the trough had been reached, and while the scoop was still down. The force of the water had knocked off the cover of the manhole in the center of the rear end of the tender, and the speed of the engine directed the stream from the manhole against the front door and the force was so great as to knock in the door. When the scoop was lifted up the shower ceased. Then the people began mopping themselves with handkerchiefs and some said they thought it was funny. They were the ones who sat in the rear seats.
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The five-year-old wanted cheese toast for lunch, since I was having some.

V: I want jam on it!

Me: Jam? On cheese toast? I'm very dubious about this.

V: Yes!

V pokes around in the fridge, pulls out one of the little sample-size jars from last year's advent-calendar of jam.

V: This one! Lemony-limey jam!

Me: Hmm.

V runs off to wait for cheese toast to be done.

I look at the jam, which is in fact "apricot-bergamot", and poke around in the fridge and also fetch out the "mango-peach-lime" and the "lemon-yuzu" jams.

V comes back in when the cheese toast is ready.

V: Why are there three jams out?

Me: Because you said you wanted lemony-limey, and this is apricot bergamot, so I got out the mango-peach-lime and this one is lemon-yuzu.

V: Oh. Can I try a taste?

I get out a dab of the apricot-bergamot, and put it on the corner of the cheese toast.

V: No, I didn't want it on the bread! Just a taste by itself!

V nonetheless eats the corner of the cheese toast.

V: Not that one.

I get out a spoon, and give her a dab of the mango-peach-lime. She dips a finger in it, and tastes it.

V: Yum! That one! But on the back of the bread.

Me: On the back? That will be hard to hold without getting your fingers messy.

V: No it won't. I'll hold the cheese on the bottom. Easy-peasy!

I spread the mango-peach-lime jam on the back of the bread.

V hands me the spoon, and helpfully says, "I didn't lick it."

V takes the double-sided toast, and eats half of it ferociously, and slows down and stops about halfway through.

V, sadly: I actually don't like this very much.

Me: I could peel off the cheese.

I peel off the cheese from a bit, and hand it to her.

V, trying it: I think I just don't like this jam.

Me, thinking to myself: This is why I shouldn't have spread jam on the whole piece of toast at once.

...time passes, inevitable things happen...

Me, thinking to myself: Hm. Actually, this cheese toast with apricot jam is pretty tasty....
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Yesterday afternoon I moved the last of the stuff out of my small storage unit into a large storage unit, so that I won't have to pay rent on both next month.

This turned out to be more work than I expected, in a rather amusing way: One of the shelf-racks-on-wheels that I had bought at an auction yesterday morning had a bent wheel, and of course I noticed this after loading it. It turned out, rather to my amusement, that because of the particular stage of the moving process that I was at, I had all of the tools readily available to fix it properly.

I retrieved my spare car jack from the small storage unit to lift up the relevant end of the shelf, and then took the circa-1890s adjustable wrench of serious size (it's 18" long, and has a capacity of about 4 inches) out of my car where I had it because I couldn't find my normal pipe wrench a couple of weeks ago when I was obtaining a sink from a different auction, and used the wrench to unscrew the caster from the bottom of the shelf. As I expected, the screw-thread part of the caster was quite bent. Also, the threads on it were rather chewed up.

The next step was to go back up to the small storage unit, and retrieve the various heavy antique bench vises (circa 1930s-1950s, I think) that would already have been the next load to bring out. I clamped the caster in the heaviest vise, and used the adjustable wrench to bend the screw-thread part back straight.

Then, I considered the damaged screw threads -- and the fact that, in the load of stuff before I'd discovered this problem, I had brought down a box of thread-cutting dies and handles. And, indeed, it had several dies of the right size, including one helpfully in a plastic bag labeled "lefthand thread" as a caution not to accidentally try to use it for normal threads. Unfortunately, most of the handles had allen-wrench set screws to hold the dies in, and allen wrenches (being more common tools) were not a thing I had handy. I did, however, find a rather cheap and beat-up die handle that had lost its set screw and had it replaced with a normal screw with a flathead-drive head. I didn't have a screwdriver either, but the box next to the thread-die box had hammers in it, and one of them had had the nail-pulling end sharpened to a tip that was about the right sharpness to be a functional screwdriver substitute.

That left the problem that this beat-up die handle was also just enough out of round that the die wouldn't fit into it. Conveniently, I had a small arbor press on the cart with the bench vises, and that made short work of squishing it back round enough for the die to fit into. And so I cleaned up and recut the screw threads to fix the damaged bits.

After that, it was a simple matter of screwing the caster back into the shelf (which was quite easy since the screw threads were all properly cleaned up) and setting the shelf back down with the jack, and it was nearly as good as new.

Other than that, the move went pretty much as expected, and I got the last load moved to the larger storage unit at 8:45, well in advance of the "gate close" time of 9pm.
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In response to a thread about someone's reactions to long-ago abuse in the form of being unreasonably punished for minor accidents that were theoretically under their control, it occurs to me:

It's really important to be able to say, "Yes, I am responsible for that problem, but what you are demanding in recompense for it is outside the bounds of my responsibility."

And thus it's also important, when we teach our kids to be responsible for their actions, that we also pay attention to what we're teaching them about what that responsibility means, and what it doesn't mean.
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Should I wash my truck?

I mean, on the one hand, the moss is looking awfully dry.

On the other hand, though, it might damage the lichens.
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