It's marketed as a bike tire pump, but...

When I got a flat tire a few months ago, the first thing I did was call my dad and sheepishly ask if he could bring over his electric air compressor.

He was busy, and couldn't come for awhile. I waited for a a few minutes, then I realized I had a solution right in front of me. I called him back and said "never mind." Why did I need an air compressor to do this job? I decided I was being a wuss. And a wasteful one, at that.

My car was on the street with a flat tire at the time. I brought the bike pump out and started pumping up the flat. Andrea was so embarassed at me that she ran inside. (It takes a long time to pump up a flat, and some of the neighbors were outside. I didn't care.)

I never borrowed the air compressor, nor did I buy one of my own. And why should I have? Using a bike pump may take longer, but it's better excersie, and more rewarding. And it doesn't overheat, make loud annoying noises, or break down.

Simplicity at its best.

Distasteful Jokes

Recently a family member forwarded me the following joke:

For centuries, Hindu women have worn a dot on their foreheads. Most of us have naively thought this was connected with marriage or religion, but the Indian Embassy in Washington, D.C. Has recently revealed the true story.

When a Hindu woman gets married, she brings a dowry into the union. On her wedding night, the husband scratches off the dot to see whether he has won a convenience store, a gas station, a donut shop or a motel in the United States. If nothing is there, he must take a job in India answering telephones giving technical advice.

To me, it's one of those jokes that not only is not very funny, but makes you roll your eyes in disgust. Every day I work with a diverse group of people, including the targeted group... so perhaps I highly respect their cultures in a way that others don't. So I turned the tables and reformulated the joke as follows:

NEW DELHI (AP)--For centuries, American women have worn crosses around their necks, depicting a man being tortured to death. Most of us have thought that this has been connected to some kind of social status symbol, or religion. But the United States embassy in New Delhi has recently revealed the true story.

When an American woman gets married, her family usually pays for the wedding, and the groom's family pays for the honeymoon. On the first night of the honeymoon, the couple buries the tortured man under a pile of rocks. The next morning, if the man is gone, the couple is saved and will live happily ever after. They will be so overjoyed by the miracle of resurrection that they can ignore the unsustainable life they live, and be happy as they warm up the planet for their children. If the man remains, the husband's fate has been sealed: most likely as a fast food worker, Wal-Mart employee, gas station attendant, gang member, or construction worker.

In retrospect, I guess "American" doesn't fit that well... I should have mentioned one of the predominant religions here.

If you find one of those "jokes" funny and not the other, you may have a cultural bias. Your culture is not more or less special than anyone else's. Get over it.

Oh, the Irony

Does anyone else find this picture the least bit ironic? The placement of the "Choose to Reduce" sign couldn't have been a more stark contrast to the trash can filled to the brim with the foam bowls, plates, and containers which cannot be recycled... despite the misleading, feel-good "recyclable" icon. (A couple years ago I tracked down one of people on site who deals with this, who informed me that after they have been contaminated, there's no choice but to toss them straight into the landfill. They can only recycle the foam used for packaging material.)

This is a typical scene in the cafeteria at the end of lunch time, every day.

What's not shown in this shot are the two other almost-filled trash cans to the left of the recycle bins. The other trash cans are actually blocking the reusable dish return carousel... as if to say "who needs that, anyway?"

Of course the implication of this scene is that people must get their lunch in foam containers, and eat it in the cafeteria dining area. Otherwise the foam would be in everyone's individual trash cans next to their desk. So my question is, why are people getting "to go" containers and sitting down and eating with them in the cafeteria, then throwing them away?! It makes no sense, and we need to find the root cause.

The only rational explanation I can think of is that the cafeteria ran out of reusable dishware. I can't imagine that anyone would actually want to eat out of a piece of foam. Even if they are taking this stuff "to go", there isn't a good excuse for the waste: there are plenty of dish drop-off areas.

I'm going to go sulk now.

Rest in Peace, Larry

Here lies Larry the Lizard. Larry passed away today (Sunday June 24th, 2007).

Larry was a brave reptile, who valiantly slayed the pests in our back yard. Until this afternoon, when he was tragically "played with" by our new puppy, Luna, who apparently didn't realize that she can't bite the lizard as hard as she bites Gimli when she plays with him.

I buried him in this little lizard grave, marked with some clay soil and rocks. Then Andrea and I paid our respects by holding a short funeral service.

In life, Larry served our back yard well. I hope I have properly honored his ultimate sacrifice. Larry, you will be missed.

My take on Religion

To me, the concept that unifies (and at the same time, some might argue, makes meaningless) all religions is this:

The definition of god (or any other higher consciousness/power that we can not perceive) is that which has the ability to influence what we perceive to be random.

That solves the problem of free will, intelligent design vs. evolution, ... et cetera. And it doesn't require anything complicated like an all-powerful God, yet still lets you believe one exists, if you want to. You can think you're part of this consciousness if you believe in free will, or not part of it if you believe we're all just "moist robots", reacting to stimuli as it comes in. Or you can believe in the Mischievous Pixie Queen. It doesn't matter, because it's all the same: that which has the power to influence perceived randomness.

Maybe you think your God has other super-cool powers, like causing huge floods and turning water into wine. That stuff might have just been made up to make your God sound cooler than the other competing Gods... but it still doesn't matter, because nothing within the realm of physical possibility is off-limits! If all that water really turned into wine due to some fluke of quantum physics, maybe the guy who did it was just really in touch with his consciousness and could influence randomness at his whim. Either that, or they lied in that precious book of yours. Pick one.

Now that everyone's happy, let's move on to real world issues that affect people, instead of arguing over meaningless concepts. I would appreciate that.

So, to summarize: God == Consciousness == Influence of Randomness. Problem solved.

Phrase of the Day

Today as I was walking back to my office from the cafeteria, pondering Kantian ethics, I came up with an idea for a phrase that needs to guide humanity.

Knowledge not shared is knowledge that is permanently lost.

I wrote that on my whiteboard when I got back. And it is truly the only way I think we will survive as a species.

If sharing knowledge (let's assume knowledge about productive concepts, like planting an organic garden in your local climate) became a universal law of nature, nothing but good could come of it.

New Addition to the Pontillo Family

Meet the newest member of our family:



Name: Luna Galadriel Pontillo
Birthday: April 1st, 2007
Breed: Half Queensland Heeler (mother), half Border Collie (father)
Gender: Female
Place of Birth: (near) Elk Grove, California

She may be cuddly and adorable, but she keeps us awake all night and has no problem going to the bathroom in the house! (Amazingly, I think she has "done her thing" outside more often than inside, though.)

I tried to work from home yesterday, but it's awfully difficult while she's either misbehaving or squirming on my lap!

I'm not insane

Really, I'm not.

That's why this blog is subtitled "from the edge of insanity", and not "from the insane asylum". It's a verifiable scientific fact that I'm writing this from the comfort of my own home. Well, in a sense -- I guess technically the bank still owns it. But I'm working on that.

But I've got to be a little bit insane to ride my bike to work every day, where I hack ANSI C code. Hell, the highlight of my day is often when I look at the route table on my switch and see that the routing protocols I'm verifying have done their job. This kind of stuff doesn't make most anyone else feel a sense of accomplishment, does it? So I must be a little bit insane.

"I won't be needing a bag", I say at the supermarket, as I reveal my trusty backpack. The clerks usually smile and nod. But I know that somewhere, deep down inside, they must think there's some insanity there. Even I admit that no matter how many times I make a zero-carbon trip to the supermarket, there are hundreds more shoppers and employees with their cars in the parking lot. And a big-ass truck in the back unloading goods from half way across the world.

"Drink the kool-aid", they say. So what if the world is going to hell all around you? "There's nothing you can do, so relax", they say, as if that should be comforting. Somehow, I have still managed to reject that concept.

And that is why I am on the edge of insanity.