Briefly, I point you to a great saga of one guy's tech adventure to reclaim his sister's stolen iMac, using the power of Timbuktu and AppleScript.

Deep down I think a lot of people wish this happened to them, so they could really try out their hacking skills without fear of criminal persecution, because they're hacking into their own machine, stolen and placed somewhere else on the net.

The 2002 Bloggies finalists are in! Happily, Fury has been named a finalist in "Best Programmed Blog" and "Best Non-blog Content."

The first one I'm really happy about, especially since I'm in the company of notable sites like MetaFilter, and weblog-software developers Noah Grey, and DollarShort.org. Mena (dollarshort) brings up an interesting point about whether sites built on public engines should be in the 'best programming' category (wow Mena is altruistic!) but that's not for me to say.

Actually, the truly unexpected honor is getting nominated for best non-blog content. I started shifting into more personal storytelling a few months back, and I can't tell you guys how warming it is to know that you enjoy it. The distinction between a blog and a journal is a fuzzy one to me, but it amazes me that I'd get recognition as someone who's bridging the gap.

So go vote! And more importantly, go visit some of the other sites that people thought were good enough to warrant such recognitions. I like to think of the Bloggies as a swap meet where all the edges of the Blogging readership come together and say "This is cool, and have you seen that?"

The best part is finding out about other great stuff out there, and maybe have a few new people enjoying what I write. That, to me, means more than any award could. Thank you.

I'm loaning a friend my Vision Science book for her class in Visual Perception. I envy her this semester, taking Visual Perception with Stephen Palmer, and Mind & Language with George Lakoff. I remember when I was in those classes, and how clear it was that you were learning from two of the leaders in the field (and I mean that in the good way). She may also get the chance to study in a small neurology seminar with Rich Ivry. Ivry's great, not only because of his extreme knowledge (and ongoing research) in the field, but because he's easygoing.

Back when I took his Cognitive Neuroscience course (CogSci 127), I remember (and wouldn't you know, I've got the photos too) when he talked about Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation. Basically, a TMS is a solenoid that generates a very powerful, but highly focused magnetic field that disrupts the delicate electrical potentials within its reach.

The thing is shaped like a ping-pong paddle, with a wire going from the handle to a computer that controls the pulse duration and frequency. The flat paddle projects a disruptive field a few cenitmeters beyond its surface. Scientists use it to create temporary harmless brain lesions. Basically, this will stop a select few square cenitmeters of a person's cerebral cortex from functioning for under a second per pulse.

As we in the class are all amazed by this, he rolls out a cart with a laptop and a TMS paddle on it and asks his head TA if he could come to the front of the room. It sucks to be the GSI. But no, the TA was going to man the computer, while Ivry took the paddle in his own hand, placed it carefully on the right part of his skull (right forward parietal lobe, the motor cortex, a little off from the top, the part controlling the left arm and fingers), holds out his left arm, and signals to the TA.

Professor Ivry takes his role as an educator very seriously.

The class goes very quiet. Shuffling stops, pens stop writing, the 360 students in the room completely fixated on what's about to happen. A flashbulb goes off and 361 heads turn toward me as I sheepishly lower the camera and everyone starts laughing. Once everyone looks back to the spectacle-in-the-making, Ivry gives the sign and the head TA presses a few keys. Pulses accented by quick beeps pulse though the paddle, and every four seconds the professor's arm and fingers twitch. "Okay, now I'm going to concentrate on keeping my fingers absolutely still" he says, and there's absolutely no difference.

I snap another picture without a flash, just in case it looks better (it did).

It starts to dawn on some of the students that he could move the paddle a little along the motor cortex and affect other parts of the body, the face, the legs, the toes, and right next to toes on the cortex, the genitals. Scattered pockets of giggling ensue. Made bold by the professor's daring, a few students call out requests: "Can you put it at the back of your head?" (occipital lobe: temporary lack of vision for part of the visual field (not darkness, but a completel lack of awareness that it exists)), "Can you put it at the front?" (prefrontal cortex: temporary lack of personality), "Broca's! Broca's!" (Broca's Area: inability to formulate coherent words).

But no, even when a few students volunteered to be guinea pigs (err, monkeys. I think this thing could probably disrupt a whole guinea-brain at once, and that wouldn't be good) trying, no doubt, to remember where the pleasure center of the brain was. Besides, it wouldn't activate it, as an electrode would. It would just disrupt it anyhow.

I wonder if the grad students ever mess with the paddle after office hours.

Ahh, I miss Berkeley...

So you're a spammer. You have control over the big red button that sends a given email message to 20 million people who don't want it.

Before you press that button, wouldn't it be nice if you actually proofread your message? Or at least the first three words?

I got spam telling me to move to Austin in the mail yesterday, and again this morning. I see at least two big mistakes with it... Maybe I should just tell people that I moved to Austin, for practice...

(don't worry, I locally cached all the images. Following the link won't tell evil spammers anything about you)

Cake is playing a webcast concert in Yahoo's FinanceVision studios, which are literally two floors directly below my cube here.

As Dinah so eloquently put it, "You've got Cake under your butt!"

"Some days you find the content --
Some days the content finds you."
- Ancient blogging proverb.

So I was driving home from work tonight, and in the last mile, driving up Telegraph Avenue, I found myself driving behind an ambulance, 'off,' driving with traffic.

I noticed that the lights were on inside, and I could see the med-tech, leaning against the back (err, front) of the van, his back against the driver's seat, dozing.

A small part of me thought, "Wow, a long day for the EMT. He's probably catching a little shuteye while he can before the next emergency.

Ever the vigilant blogger, (err, journaller, err, blogger, err, documentor) I took my Elph out from my jacket pocket, waited until we were both stopped at a light (Telegraph @ Alcatraz, northbound, right lane), turned off the flash, and snapped a pic:

On preview (err, postview) I noticed the picture was a little blurry, so I wanted to take another. Of course, it would have to be without a flash. Two panes of glass, a dirty windshield, and 20 feet dont make for good flash conditions, and two moving vehicles don't make for good non-flash dark photography conditions. So I stayed behind them, waiting for the next stoplight.

Keeping my eye on the EMT, I caught a momentary glimpse lower into the ambulance, and I could see that he wasn't sleeping, but was slowly writing on a clipboard, always looking down at the paper, head unmoving, hand writing low on the form.

Webster; red light; no, green before we get there. Ashby is next, red light (and a long one). I get ready with the camera, but the ambulance turns its blinker on and edges to the right, never coming to a full stop. I can't get a good shot, and don't try. As it's accelerating out of the turn, pivoting up as it climbs onto the crowned road, I can see fully inside the ambulance. I can see that there's a patient on a gurney. I can see the face of a handsome black man in his late 20s. I see how his eyes are closed on an expressionless face, and his head lolls with the van. As the van edges up Ashby to Alta Bates, I realize that it was in no hurry. I realize that what I had originally assumed to be a resting EMT, then one filling out a little paperwork, is actually a man steadfastly keeping his gaze lowered to avoid the face of the dead man he's sharing the van with.

Just in case anyone (the curious reader, the occasional Yahoo! manager, etc...) should wonder how much time I spend posting at work, I'll let you in on a secret:

One of the features I put into Fury 3.2 is 'post embargoing' which lets me write a post, then specify how many seconds, minutes, hours, or days after submitting that the post should appear.

Why do I do this? Because a lot of the time I'll sit down and write, and I'll make like five substantial posts in an hour or two, and other times I'll go a day or two without posting. This way, if I'm going to be away or super-busy for a day or two, I can write up a several things on my mind and 'postpone' (pun not intended) publication of a post or two, so the posts flow freely and regular while I'm in silent-running, instead of in fits and starts.

I only bring it up so that people don't get the mistaken idea that I'm slacking and posting, when I'm actually at a doctors appointment (like this morning), or that I'm writing a huge story when I have a similarly huge deadline looming...

So I saw A Beautiful Mind this weekend and loved it. Nevertheless, despite the four golden globes it picked up tonight, I'm ecstatic that Moulin Rouge got three of its own.

In a year with a number of great movies (the aforementioned, Shrek, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and Memento), and no absolute standouts, the Golden Globes are an important preview for the Oscars. It looks like A Beautiful Mind and Moulin Rouge are shoe-ins for the Best Picture nomination. Let's just hope M-R doesn't get stiffed in the other categories (I can't wait to see whether M-R or LotR:FotR gets best costumes).

Oh, and I couldn't possibly forget Amelie.

Basically, more than any other year, 2001 was the year of movies whose DVDs I want to buy in 2002. That is, if I don't already have them.

So hey, the 2002 Bloggies finalists should be announced today, followed by one week of frantic voting.

Maybe if I'm lucky I'll get a mention for 'best programmed site' but even if, it's unlikely I'll get enough votes to win, my traffic not touching that of the kind of sites that were finalists last year.

Still, may the best blog win! You should check it out, and see what gems other people love.

A couple of asides: First, doesn't it seem silly that there's an award for 'best-kept-secret weblog' that's judged in a popular vote? By definition the most deserving sites would lose. Second, be wary of the competition's definition of a weblog. One of my favorites was inadmissable, because it doesn't have enough outbound links. Note to self: linkpimp:blog as stream-of-consciousness:journal. 'Weblog' looks to be a contested concept, to be sure.

...but never thought to ask.

the Sea Monkey Worship Page has an excellent FAQ, answering such stumpers as "Are there any countries that would prosecute me for owning Sea Monkeys?" "How do Sea Monkeys mate?" and "What are Sea Monkeys made of?"

For the more inquisitive Monkey-lover, there is also the Ask the Sea Monkey Lady Answer Page, which delves into such advanced topics as "How can I encourage my Sea Monkey to reveal his true orientation?", "How will my Sea Monkey change if I neuter him?", "Why are my Sea Monkeys floating at the top of the tank?", "Do Sea Monkeys feel pain?" and "Is it okay to kiss my Sea Monkey?"

Some of the answers are even funnier than the questions. Wow. I haven't wanted to recapture my youth (err, the young, young youth) so badly since that time I went online and bought a large supply of Shrinky Dinks! (Let me tell you, oven... toaster oven... completely different animals when it comes to Shrinky Dinks. Trust me.)