A few months ago the cherished if somewhat moribund forum for the Martian Cartel, the gaming group I’ve been part of since 1999 (!) went down with a database error. Since the forum gets little traffic these days it wasn’t a high priority for me to figure out what happened.
Tonight I finally decided to have a look. This is where the puzzle begins.
I am a database expert in the same way a doorstop is an excellent brain surgeon. My cursory appraisal confirmed the database was still there. Whether it was repairable or mangled beyond recognition I could not tell.
I had a Xenforo license kicking around so decided to install it and then attempt to import the vBulletin database from the old forum, a feature Xenforo handily supports.
Don’t be fooled into thinking I managed any of this with any sort of grace or intelligence. I bumbled around a fair bit, battling errors both obscure and infuriating. In the end the import completed without error. It also completed very quickly and with little data imported. I did a check and found the following:
0 subforums imported
0 messages imported
3 users imported
Well, the three users was something, at least. I checked them out and found one of them was me (yay) and the other two were spam accounts from 2012.
The year seems appropriate, somehow.
As of now I have a functioning if spartan Xenforo forum with a bunch of non-existent data imported from the downed database. It doesn’t seem like much given the hours I spent on this.
It was kind of fun working on it when I solved one dilemma and moved onto the next. It’s less fun to have nothing useful at the end to show for it.
But I have not given up yet! I have merely gone to bed. For now.
On Thursday I picked up my custom-made orthotics devices from Kintec to deal with the problem of my left foot. I’ve gone on about that pesky appendage before so the short version is this: the pad where the toes connect to the rest of the foot becomes sore after I’ve been walking or running for a varying period of time. That time depends on factors ranging from the softness of the surface I’m walking/running on, to the type of footwear to, possibly, the alignment of the planets or something because it can be a tad unpredictable at times.
My doctor and others recommended getting an orthotic so I booked an appointment, had my feet molded in foam (the pedorthist said I had the most relaxed feet she’d seen when making the mold) and on Thursday had the orthotics trimmed to fit nicely inside my normal walking shoes.
I was also handed a pamphlet on how to break in the orthotic. It’s intended that you wear them an increasing amount per day for two to three weeks and only use them when running after you’ve fully acclimated to wearing them in regular shoes. If they cause the feet to hurt, you’re supposed to remove them until the pain goes away.
When I tried them on at Kintec I did not feel any immediate bolts of pain, nor lose my balance and start knocking over displays. Pluses, both.
The next day I wore them all day just like I’m not supposed to do. But in my defense, they didn’t hurt at all. It was unexpectedly pleasant. The left foot did start to hurt a bit when I was sitting on a train riding the Expo Line home. It seemed strange that sitting made the foot hurt. The nominal pain went away shortly after getting home.
Here’s to the orthotic making complaints about that stupid foot a thing of the past. I don’t expect miracles but some improvement would be spiffy.
The Tyee story Postmedia Cuts Confirm Newspapers’ Days Are Numbered documents how Postmedia is planning on major cuts to its newspaper holdings across the country. Since buying the Canwest papers it’s been losing money and responding with cuts and more cuts.
From the Tyee story:
In Vancouver, the Sun and Province will merge newsrooms.
For readers, this week’s cuts mean poorer quality newspapers. Postmedia plans to have reporters file a single story, and then editors will create versions for the two newspapers. Short and snappy for the Province, longer for the Sun, for example. It’s not real competition, and fewer people will be available to cover the news.
This is not only not real competition, it’s not even good fake competition. It also makes no sense. Why have two papers that will literally print the same stories, just tweaked slightly to fit the given format of a broadsheet vs. a tabloid? If Postmedia wants to save money, they could just kill one paper entirely and allow the survivor a smidgen of integrity and perhaps an opportunity to develop a unique voice, perhaps even draw a few new readers. There are no other local major dailies in the Lower Mainland, so it’s not like they will lose out to direct competition (The Globe and Mail and National Post [the latter also owned by Postmedia] are nationally-focused so while they may eat into the readership of the Sun and Province, they target a somewhat different audience).
The story’s writer, Paul Willcocks, doesn’t offer possible solutions to the death of newspapers, but cites a need for an urgent discussion on the matter, bringing up the old “bad for democracy” bit–which is certainly valid when news (in all forms, not just newspapers) either dries up or becomes so thoroughly controlled by a small number that it no longer focuses on anything but serving its own agenda–but I don’t think we’re there yet.
And frankly, I don’t think there is any way to save the traditional paper. People get their news from TV and the Internet now. They get quick, bite-size chunks in free dailies like 24 Hours and Metro. Will they get the same depth and breadth of coverage as they would have during newspapers’ heyday? It really depends on the source. A paper like Metro doesn’t try to be comprehensive. A web site like The Tyee does, but the fear there is that without a sustainable revenue model, Internet-based news providers will also fail and whither, just like newspapers.
On that point, people want to read content for free and without ads. To that end, they resist pay walls, they use ad blockers, they get their news from Facebook or Twitter. We are in a time of transition and there’s no clear path going forward on how news will survive, especially quality long form and in-depth reporting that simply can’t be done for free.
But however news reporting moves forward, I don’t think it will be through the traditional newspaper. It’s dying and there will be no miracle revival.
Prediction: Postmedia will formally merge The Sun and Province into one paper within a year. Likely name: The Sun-Province. [UPDATE: As of October 8, 2017 both newspapers are still sputtering along, so resist the temptation to make wagers based on my predictions, unless your intent is to lose money.]
As a postscript, the rise of the Internet has not only hit newspapers hard, but other print media, too. A few days ago I walked by Mayfair News on Broadway for the first time in quite awhile. This was once one of my favorite places to buy magazines as they had a huge selection. Today they have what appears to be half of one aisle devoted to magazines, about 1/6th of what they used to have, with the rest of the store converted over to a dollar store model, shelves stuffed with cheap plasticware and other small goods. On the one hand, it makes me sad to see the change, but on the other I admire their resilience and ability to adapt to a changing market.
In 1970 I was six years old. Candy bars cost ten cents and I had a monster green tricycle that could easily have been featured in a kids horror movie. Maybe any horror movie. It was a terror to behold and to ride.
But for all the nostalgia I have for those formative years from age six to sixteen, there are a few things I’m happy to have left behind:
the 8-track tape. I’ve written about this before so suffice to say that as a music format it was terrible.
long hair. What was I thinking? I was not thinking.
Today I returned to work, though it’s safe to say that I am not exactly 100% yet. I felt like I was spreading my illness every time I touched something. And really, I probably was. Apologies to everyone I may have gotten sick through all of my egregious touching. That sounds dirty and in the germ sense it totally is.
Last night I opted to forgo another ftom-behind-the-counter decongestant tablet in favor of the more all-encompassing solution of Nyquil Complete. Unfortunately the decongestant part kind of stopped working around 3 a.m. This meant about three hours of mostly not sleeping, combined with more mouth breathing and yucky dry mouth. I had the foresight to go to bed extra early so it could have been worse.
The day was characterized by intermittent coughing, general tiredness and everything continuing to taste like cardboard.
On a scale of one to ten coughed-up lungs, I rate today six coughed-up lungs. It could have been worse but boy howdy, it could have been better, too.
I promise the next blog post will not be about my sinuses, mouth or any other part of my body or its current condition.
Last night started with me experiencing the chills, not out of fright, but due to my stupid cold/flu/germs from outer space/whatever it is. That didn’t last, though, as by midway through the night I was hot and sweaty instead. Oh, and my nose was so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe. Or sleep. Not sleeping when sick is not a good way to speed recovery.
I managed to catch an hour or so of uninterrupted sleep around 7 a.m. when I finally dozed off, likely from exhaustion. When I awoke I discovered that I’d been breathing through my mouth (the only handy breathing orifice), said mouth was parched and my lips were almost chapped from. They still feel funny this evening.
I went to ye local drug store and got a not-over-the-counter decongestant. While it hasn’t completely unplugged my sinuses, it’s partially done so and more importantly, they are staying partially unplugged when I lay down, meaning I should be able to sleep tonight without being a mouth breather and get actual rest.
To balance this positive news, I am now coughing and sneezing a lot more.
I am not a fan of this head cold. No sir, not a fan at all.
This head cold I’m currently fighting is like what you get if you crossed a head cold with Africanized bees. I’m tired, I’m achy, my sinuses are so plugged up it’s like my nose went on vacation. If I get a little cold (ho ho) I start shivering as if I’m standing starkers on an ice floe.
And today it feels like it’s moving into my chest, so coughing and wheezing are what I can likely look forward to for the rest of the week.
I don’t like this. Please send a healthy body for me to occupy ASAP.
The alternate title for this collection of short stories could be Old, Dead or Dying.
That said, Bazaar of Bad Dreams is not quite as grim as you’d expect for a bunch of tales that largely center around death in its various forms, both real and unreal. As King gets older it’s clear his mind is turning more and more to the twin topics of old age and death and he presents visions of each that are at times hopeful and, unsurprisingly at others, horrifying.
I had read a number of these stories before as many appeared previously in magazines or other formats (like the formerly Kindle-exclusive “Ur”, which I ironically read on a Kobo ereader) but King explains that many have been revised or polished further. Writers love tinkering with their stories.
There are no duds here, though if pressed I’d say the two poems are the weakest points of the collection. King writes poetry the way I do, less as poetry and more as differently-formatted prose. There’s no real meter or rhythm to be found, no clever or trenchant word choices, just old-fashioned stories told through a framework of structured prose. But even the poems have their merits.
Highlights for me include “Mile 81”, featuring yet another of King’s sinister car-like things. It’s a good ol’ goofy horror romp. “Ur” marries modern tech (the ereader, which may already be going the way of the CD if the big publishers have their way) to the classic “try to stop terrible future event” trope and does so in fine style.
“Bad Little Kid” has the feel of a dark Twilight Zone episode–one rated M for language. The titular bad little kid has an enthusiastically vulgar vocabulary.
In the intro to “Blockade Billy” King implores the reader to have a look, even though it’s a story about baseball, noting that it’s still a King story. King’s absolute love of the game gives the tale a richly authentic feel as he carefully builds on the “all is not what it seems” of the title character.
A lot of these stories don’t score high on originality but King’s typically deft hand with characterization propels them past such trivial concerns. He even has a few good endings (not a giant spider in sight).
There is a pleasing variety of styles here, ranging from the light “Drunken Fireworks” to the melancholy “Summer Thunder” and with a number of stories drawing specific inspiration from other authors. For fans of King, this collection is a no-brainer. For someone looking for stories that tackle the subjects of aging, loss and death, both with and without supernatural elements, Bazaar of Bad Dreams is still a very good choice.
Today I spent some time editing a Word document. This is not an extraordinary thing on its own. In the year 2016 it is quite mundane.
However, I wasn’t just making a few simple changes to words or phrases, I was trying to edit a table. In one instance I was editing a table that was within a cell of another table.
I do not recommend doing this in Word unless someone is actively threatening you with a firearm or if refusing to do it would lead to something worse than Hitler.
Even then I would give it some serious thought.
I made the analogy to a co-worker that editing tables in Word was like driving a car with square wheels. Sure, it might be possible, but would you really want to do it?
No, you would not.
(The $9.99 in the title is the monthly price for the most popular Office 365 subscription, which gets you Word along with several other programs that might also drive you crazy if you try to create or edit tables in them.)
Some believe that when you die you go to Heaven. Some believe–including, but not exclusively those of the aforementioned group–that if you’ve been bad you’ll probably end up in the land of brimstone, damnation and fun instead.
The sticky part, of course, is that no one really knows because we’ve yet to see definitive evidence of someone keeling over dead and then shambling back from The Great Beyond to give us the inside scoop on the whole afterlife thing.
Assuming there is something that persists beyond the physical body, what would prevent those who have moved beyond physical form from stopping by to hang out and maybe explain that mysterious what-happens-after-you-expire thing? Would it cause the two realms to spontaneously poof out of existence? Are our physical brains too dumb and silly to comprehend the next phase of reality? Is The Other Side just too cool to share with lowly mortals? Do we need to patiently wait until we’ve evolved to look like those giant-headed brainiac aliens on the original Star Trek?
