We were putting our clothesline back up today (the septic tank people took it out to do repairs, and then forgot to put it back up, and left with the excavator before we could call them on it). I should note, BTW, that putting a clothesline up sounds trivial, but is actually backbreaking labor. The wooden posts are very thick lumber, and that’s probably a good 50-100 pounds of wood each. But there’s also a collosal blob of concrete on the bottom of each to stabilize them. My dad and I tried pulling together to drag one of the poles and couldn’t even budge it. He tried hooking a rope up to his SUV, and the rope snapped. (And he used some decent rope, too.)

But that’s not the point. I did a lot of digging today. That, actually, isn’t the point either, but it leads into it: somehow, I remembered all the horrible stories that get told about people being forced to dig their own graves before being brutally executed and thrown into it.

I came to wonder something: why, exactly, would you comply? Sure, they have a gun, but it’s not as if you have the choice of digging the grave or getting shot. If you get this far, you’re going to be shot. No brutal dictator with any self-respect would ask you to dig your own grave and then say, “What a nice hole you’ve done. I guess I won’t kill you.”

I suspect the answer lies in two things… The first is that people probably don’t think too rationally with a gun to their heads. The other is that people probably want to buy themselves a little more time, even if it’s a couple of minutes.

Of course, there’s a very good reason to act like you’re going along with the plan: a shovel can make a good weapon. And I suppose that, if you know you’re going to get shot, there’s no reason (other than what’s basically irrational fear) not to try to take out your captors with it. Although I’d wager that anyone who’s having you dig your own grave probably has some experience, so they’d see that one coming from a mile away. (But again, you really have no incentive not to try. The worst-case scenario is that you get shot, which, in this case, is what would happen anyway.)

But if you don’t think the shovel defense would work, such as if the executioner/guard kept his distance, the alternative is to simply refuse. If I’m going to get shot to death, I figure refusing to dig the grave is killing two birds with one stone. (Err, no pun intended…) The last minutes of my life won’t be spent doing agonizing labor knowing that I’m going to be killed, and I could die knowing that my death would now be collosally inconvenient for my killer.

If you did it really well, I think you could use this to catch the guard, err, off guard:

“Dig yourself a grave!”
“But, err, with all due respect, what incentive do I have to do so?”
“I’ll shoot you!”
“But won’t you anyway?”
“Yes.”
“So I really have no incentive to dig a grave. My death would be quite an inconvenience to you.”
“Err, umm…”
“Perhaps you should just let me go and say I dug my own grave, and you buried me. I won’t tell.”
“Umm, fine. Begone!”

Along with speedreading, that’s a course I think should be taught in schools. Doing my periodic “follow Amazon’s recommendations down increasingly obscure tangents” dance, I came across a book about how people are surprisingly bad at understanding the practical implications of anything that’s not incredibly simple in math, such as probabilities.

Over on MAKE, they pose an interesting question leading into their article… Say you have two cars, one that gets 18 MPG and one that gets 34 MPG, and you have the money to replace one of the two. All other things being equal (e.g., cost, quality…), would you rather replace the 34MPG with a 50MPG car, or the 18MPG with a 28MPG car?

The answer is counter-intuitive: going from 18 to 28 (+10MPG) saves more gasoline than going from 34 to 50 MPG (+16). This perhaps explains some of what was previously a major pet peeve of mine: hybrid SUVs that moved from, say, 15MPG to 25MPG.

In totally unrelated news, MAKE also has details on a neat project that looks like a goalpost, but has a bunch of misting nozzles on it.

For a couple months, I was a hard-core Wikipedia editor. Academic life was moving at a fairly slow clip for a bit, so I had plenty of guiltless free time. I was putting in major hours cleaning up awkwardly-phrased articles, reverting vandalism in near-real time, and so forth. My usual ability to spot typos and grammatical mistakes was in overdrive, and I was perpetually on guard against bias creeping into things. I’d have an assigned reading in a textbook and find an oddly-phrased sentence, or go to take a test and find the classic, “Explain…?” mistake, where the ‘question’ is actually a directive, but nonetheless carries a question mark. I’d often find myself correcting it on the test before realizing what I’d done, and that the professor most likely wouldn’t appreciate it. Over time, work picked up, and what was once an unhealthy obsession faded.

But errors still jump out at me. What I’ve noticed is that errors are practically universal. They exist not just in my late-night blog posts where I don’t proofread and when people post rants on forums, but they turn up in the middle of articles written by the Associated Press, and in headlines on the nightly news.

I often see Wikipedia bashed because the site lets anyone edit it, as if they were unaware that this is the site’s raise d’etre and that it’s a double-edged sword. The idiots of the world can come screw Wikipedia up, but obsessive-compulsive editors (like me) can just as easily clean things up. It’s almost a battle between good and evil, except a lot less dramatic. In my experience, good wins 95% of the time, but that 5% causes people to proclaim Wikipedia unreliable.

One of the major problems is disruptive editing. A lengthy article, potentially getting thousands of hits a day, might be edited by a sixth-grader, who replaces the whole page with the word “poop.” He is most likely unaware that Cluebot, one of the many user-run bots on the site, watches the Recent Changes feed for “bad words” and for major changes in page length, and that “poop” is, strangely, among the most common “bad words,” meaning that his change will be undone by a bot before any of us human editors can even click “Undo.”

The reason Cluebot exists is also the reason I don’t think we’ll see many “major” publications adopting a wiki model any time soon*. But one thing I’ve thought would be neat for a while was a sort of “moderated” wiki, where anyone could make changes, but they wouldn’t show up unless a moderator approved them. Thus, in theory, people like me, who spot errors in the AP, could have them corrected, while people who erase everything and type “poop” wouldn’t be able to bring anything down.

I still don’t see the AP, in particular, adopting this any time soon*. Print media like that doesn’t really have a, “Written in part by 75 different people” dynamic, and it’s probably not one that they’d be eager to implement right away. But I think the technology—a way to allow users to ‘suggest’ changes and have a moderator decide whether or not to apply them—could be useful all over the Internet, I think.

* Enormous tangent: I hesitated for a minute, wondering whether it was “any time soon” or “anytime soon,” but both terms have considerable usage from well-regarded, edited sources. I tend to think of “anytime” as meaning, “whenever,” or at an unpredictable time, and thus sticking the “soon” modifier on it seems strange: it could happen whenever, soon? “Any time soon” seems more pure. That said, I doubt that the difference one way or the other is significant.

PACs and 527s get talked about a lot in elections, but are terms that I suspect many aren’t familiar with.

Both are essentially “interest groups” (versus the campaigns themselves) which seek to have an impact. In a nutshell, PACs (Political Action Committees) directly advocate voting for or against a politician or bill—a committee running ads saying, “Vote for Obama” or “Vote against privatizing social security!”. 527s (the name coming from a section of the IRS tax codes) are more indirect. Wikipedia’s phrasing is that 527s “do not make expenditures to directly advocate the election or defeat of any candidate for federal elective office.”

While there’s a thin line between 527s and PACs in terms of what they do, the distinction is important. PACs are regulated by the Federal Election Commission, but 527s are not, and thus enjoy greater latitude.

The hard money vs. soft money matter is explained on Wikipedia, too. “Hard money” refers to money going directly to candidates or their political parties (e.g., the DNC and RNC). I donated the token sum of $15 to Obama’s campaign, which was hard money. Soft money refers to donations to 527s and the like: because they’re not regulated by the FEC, they don’t have donation caps (like the $4,600 figure you often see), and thus often receive multi-million dollar donations from politically-inclined millionaires (and billionaires).

Let me open by commenting that sunscreen works very effectively. It started out overcast but looked like it was going to get sunny (and the UV gets you even if it’s overcast), so I put on plenty of sunscreen. But I apparently missed the sides of my kneecaps, a pretty obscure spot. I know this because they’re now bright red and painful. (Also, a very small area along my hairline.) The rest of me looks as if it stayed indoors for the day.

This burned-sides-of-the-kneecaps thing is even more awkward-looking than my Washington sunburn, when I spent a couple hours on the top of an open-top tour bus without sunscreen, foolishly thinking that I’d be fine. Unfortunately, the left side of my face got pretty badly burned (except for the spot where my sunglasses where), whereas the right side got almost no sun. So I walked around for a few days with half of my face a totally different color. My best attempts to burn the other side to not look so ridiculous really didn’t go that well, although after a few days the burn faded and I started to look semi-normal.

Before the parade started, the Spartans’ bus went by…

This (the photo of horrible exhaust, not the difficulty breathing and absolute murder on the environment) reminds me of another thing I came to realize today… This was the first time I’d had an SLR at the parade. One observation was that using the nice long zoom lens, the depth of field was a lot less than the infinite depth of field I had on my old point-and-shoot, which resulted in a pleasing background blur in many photos. (Not the bus one, so much.)

But the other thing I noticed was that it makes it way too easy to take a lot of pictures. Taking a picture takes about as long as the mirror is up, which is to say, a fraction of a second. There’s no second-long shutter lag, and no five-second pause as it writes to disk. Point and shoot. (Boy, that’s ironic.) Hold the shutter down and it just starts taking them rapid-fire.

So in the car on the way back, I realized I took almost 600 pictures during the parade. Many were garbage and will get deleted. But more than 500 pictures. Doing some quick math, CVS has ISO 200 film, 24 exposures, for $2.99. That means I’d have needed 22 rolls of film, or $65.78 worth of film. (But if I were buying film, I’d probably opt for the Kodak-brand, which is $4.79 a roll, meaning I’d have consumed $105.38.) In any case, that’s before printing, which would probably double the cost or so. Suffice it to say that if I were shooting film, I probably wouldn’t be taking four pictures of the guy with a funny hat.

As always, the parade opened (well, aside from an obnoxious drink vendor and a couple police cars shooing everyone out of the road) with some veteran color guards:

They received a (much deserved) round of applause, as did the police color guards behind them:

(Actually, it appears the Fire Department may have been in it, too.) As an aside, I still find color guard to be a strange term, if only because it’s meant pretty literally. The Wikipedia page has more information than you’d ever want to know, some of which definitely doesn’t meet the eye: the flag is on the right as a sign of respect; I’d have put it in the center if I were in charge, intending it to receive the most attention and respect there. I’d have also never considered the implications of turning around and whether that would render the flag out of place. Perhaps that is why I was never selected to lead the Color Guard. That and, you know, the fact that I’m not in any organization with one.

The police assocation had a “Pipes and Drums” group there as well. This photo doesn’t do this guy justice: he was actively playing the drum and twirling the drumsticks. If I’d tried twirling the drumsticks, even without playing the drum, they’d most likely have gone flying into the crowd. The fact that he did that while playing the drums was pretty impressive.

There were plenty of clowns.

The Shriners were also there. This parade proved a good learning experience, as I just looked the Shriners up on Wikipedia, too. I was familiar with their children’s hospital (actually a set of 22, one of which is in Boston), but I didn’t know that they were properly called the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine, nor that they were Masons at all. (I’m still not entirely clear on what Masons are, but that’s a project for another day.)

Although I’m very respectful of the selfless services they provide, I’ve always found their mini-cars slightly annoying, just because they’re loud and fast, and, frankly, they seem to terrify a decent number of children. As you can see, this year they upped the ante and sprayed me in the face with a water gun, too. (Okay, they didn’t spray me in the face, but the point remains…)

This year seemed to have a little less of the “random SUV with a bow on it” crap, which I always thought was pretty pathetic: a parade is a great place to showcase all of the organizations that make our town great, not a place for random people to glue crap to their car and not even represent any group. This year, all we saw were a couple antique cars and this fabulous car:

A pure white car with a fresh coat of wax in direct sunlight, incidentally, is not easy to photograph. The people in it didn’t throw candy, display a flag, or even wave. But still, nice car.

This was a student driver vehicle (I didn’t pay attention to the driver, though I’d hope it was an adult: there seemed to be about 200 opportunities for collisions). I’ve also resented the random company presences, but these people did it well, with plenty of flags and celebrity appearances. The Obama mask does seem a bit of a caricature, but at least it wasn’t overtly racist.

I’m not sure what group this person was from, but that is a big bubble.

The Spartans were there too; quite an impressive show. Although as long as my post seems to be a sort of critique of the Independence Day parade…

The Spartans are excellent at presenting a highly-polished appearance, with suits that are perpetually in excellent condition, incredibly well-rehearsed formations and step, and even meticulous instruments. And then there’s this random dude in a Disney T-shirt walking alongside them, who seemed to be a part of their group. Seriously? (Hope he’s not traveling!)

The MHS Cheerleaders were in attendance as well. While I’m perpetually terrified that they’re going to miss and the poor girl is going to crash into the pavement, they’re quite good at what they do. I’m loving this as a “freeze-frame” shot. (Even at ISO100, this was a 1/1,600-second shot.)

The Twizzler and Oakleys seem a bit anachronistic (I haven’t had a chance to use that word in years?).

This guy did a much better job.

As always, we had plenty of political groups on hand. We were fortunate (as we often are) to have many of them there in the flesh:

Governor Lynch is great. As he walked along waving to everyone with his characteristic happy smile, this lady came running out to him. (The plainclothes officer behind him didn’t react, which would have made things much more interesting.) Governor Lynch stopped—in the middle of the parade—to pose with her for a photo. What a sport!

I’d been invited to march in the Obama section of the parade, but decided to take it easy this 4th of July. As it got closer I was feeling a bit guilty, worrying that the turnout wouldn’t be so great. I was pleased to see that I was wrong. (That isn’t everyone, either: they continue out to the right.)

This is a strange photo, as I have no idea what is transpiring. No one had as big a crowd as did Jeanne Shaheen, former governor. She ran before in 2002, when she was narrowly defeated by a Republican, though a massive phone-jamming effort (than sent someone to jail for three months) is sometimes blamed for her narrow loss.

Mike Kaelin, running for NH State Senate. I haven’t brushed up on all of his policies yet, but he seems like a great guy, and has that, “Just an ordinary hard-working New Hampshire citizen” attribute that I really value.

Jeb Bradley, considered a moderate Republican, was swept out of office (US House of Reps) by Carol Shea-Porter in 2006. He’s running for office again, though I’m a bit uneasy about his stance on automobile safety.

John Stephen is the third-party other Republican candidate. I haven’t had a chance to review his stance on the issues yet either, but my mom (special ed teacher and lifelong advocate for special education issues) has expressed her concerns about him based on his past actions.

The Register of Deeds seems like a hotly-contested seat. It’s worth noting that the person heading it actually appears to be the Registrar of Deeds, a distinction I’d really hope those running would get.

Joe Kenney is running against Governor Lynch for governor, whose slogan seems to consist of saying, with a sense of urgency, that New Hampshire is becoming Massachusetts. The reader is left to infer meaning, though as someone born in Massachusetts, someone who recently finished four years of college in Massachusetts, and may well end up moving to Massachusetts when he gets a job, I’m not quite sure I see where he’s going. His campaign website text also fails to impress me, with things that sound more like trolls on the Internet than things I’d like to see from our governor: “John Lynch keeps trying to blame the national economy for his lack of priorities and decision-making. However, the national economy is not the problem! Rather, the problem is the over-spending and pandering to special interests.” And, “It’s very nice to go up and greet workers when they lose their jobs, but how about bringing some companies in so they can find a new job? Joe is a very kind person and was the first one on the scene when a plant in his district closed.” Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, I just wouldn’t vote for him to be governor.

Lady Liberty turned her back on me!

Uncle Sam, though, kept a watchful eye on me.

It’s been a while since I delved into a tangent about research I did on Wikipedia, so here goes: I have gone 22 years of life without ever so much as hearing the phrase, “Royal Rangers” used. And if you asked me, I’d have guessed that it was an elite form of military, perhaps equivalent to the Navy SEALs, in Britain. In actuality, it turns out that the Royal Rangers are essentially a religious organization (meant for boys) kind of like the Boy Scouts. (This photo, obviously, is of one of their leaders, not a member.)

There were copious fire trucks towards the end, many from other towns. Most of all, though, I was fascinated by this banner:

The SPAAMFAA, or the [deep breath] Society for the Preservation and Appreciation of Antique Motor Fire Apparatus in America. The good news is that there’s no ambiguity about what this group stands for. The bad news is that, like a novel that starts out with some boring scene with characters that haven’t been introduced, I lost interest in reading it.

Oh, and I saved the best for last:

Team 166, Merrimack’s FIRST team (called “Chop Shop”).

Did anyone actually make it all the way to the end of this post?

I’m reading rumors that Obama may hold his ‘nomination acceptance speech’ (from the DNC) in the Invesco Field, the positively-ginormous home of the Denver Broncos seating 76,000. That would be a momentous occasion.

It also turns out that it’ll be the 45th anniversary of MLK’s I Have a Dream speech, which is an awfully fitting time to usher in the nation’s first black candidate confirmed by a party.

I saw this on CNN’s Most Popular: Accountant for Rachael Ray show claims anorexia bias. This leads to a few questions on my part:

• How the @#%@ did this become the most popular? I’m not interested in Rachel Ray, but I’m very not interested in the office politics of her show that don’t even involve her?
• “The comments included, ‘Anorexics are sick in the head,’ and, ‘Anorexics should not be able to work,’ his court papers say.” — Does that sound like something a real person would say? I hardly know all the facts, but doesn’t it jump out at you as something a 4th grader would write if asked to make up a discriminatory quote about anorexics? I think I could be the biggest anti-anorexic bigot in the world, and I still wouldn’t hold the view, “Anorexics should not be able to work.”

I’ve always thought I was pretty good at reading a piece of text and knowing who wrote it. Obviously it doesn’t apply to everything I’ve ever read (I can’t pick up a book blindly and think, “Ahh, vintage Chaucer!”). But for people I know well, or people’s writing I read often, I can often tell who it is without seeing them named. We all have our own little idiosyncrasies that make our writing a little different from others. On the main page here, I can often tell whose post I’m reading before I get to their name.

I used to use “n1zyy” as my username everywhere, but eventually got creeped out by the fact that Googling it turned up basically everything I’ve ever done. Not that I have anything to hide, but it was a little creepy. I now have a handful of names (short and predictable, but I’m not nursing any major secrets online) that I use, which were deliberately chosen to be devoid of any real meaning and common enough to blend in.

Kyle eventually joined Metafilter after catching my obsession with Ask MetaFilter. I believe he knew my username, though there was never any great outing ceremony of my true identity. One day he was reading an answer and asked if the user that posted it was me. It was.

Metafilter’s a site composed largely of people who write well. I think good writing helps ‘hide’ people, as there are fewer “quirks” in the way people write. Still, Kyle had read enough of my writing to pick up on subtle cues and figure out who I was. (Even though I still maintain he already knew!) Really bad writing does the same—wen u right like dis its hard bcz evry1 duz it now.

I’m now posting a bit on a forum where a lot of people (including me) post anonymously, but there are some obvious trolls. I was talking with another member tonight about the suspected identities of a few of them, and he said he had reason to believe that two users were the same person. After about 60 seconds of reading the writing style in the two posts, I was convinced. The user(s) had a fairly peculiar writing style.

For fun once, I tried taking on an alternative identity somewhere I was fairly well-known as a member. The hardest part for me was the simple act of writing, because I worried that my use of a different IP and username linked to a different e-mail would all be undone when people noticed that I wrote the same way. So I spent an indordinate amount of time working on writing differently, which is somewhat like trying to walk differently. The inclination is to do it weirdly, which is the only easy “different” we can do. It was actually a pretty challenging exercise.

And created a Tumblr blog.

(Actually, I revived my year-old one that I never used.)

You might be a geek if…

• You have a hard drive hanging out of your computer, and, since you couldn’t find the needed jumper, you have a screw jammed in just the right place. And it works beautifully.
• The system with the screw for a jumper in the hard drive hanging out the side… Is an improvised SAN to back up a corrupted hard drive to.