Google vs. Microsoft, Again

Google recently announced their Chrome OS. In addition to upsetting my various friends who once worked at the company called Desktop.com that was trying to do the same thing (and which may or may not still be kicking around in some post crash form, I'm not sure), it is intended to scare the pants off Microsoft. I'm not terribly worried about Microsoft's pants, but some folks have pointed out some interesting questions about the Google project.

Week 4: A brief history of Push-Ups

For the benefit of those not in the know, I have researched the history of the push-up. It's original crude form was invented by ascetics in the 10th century as a form of self-flagellation. During the 20th century it was refined by the Nazis into a highly efficient means of torture. Adopted after WWII by U.S. Military will-breakers (aka. "instructors" or "Drill Sergeants") as a means of reminding green recruits that they're really not much better off than a Nazi prisoner, it subsequently came back into vogue amongst new-age self-flagellant sects going by such names as Fitness Fanatics and Health Nuts. The push-up is intended to not only cause pain, but guarantee humiliation, as onlookers realize the futile pursuit of the prone Atlas wannabe before them who -- at the whim of his "Personal Trainer," "Coach," "Drill Sergeant" or "Fitness Master" -- attempts to shove the entire planet away from them whilst holding the entire sky on his or her back. Preposterous.

On the upside, I apparently can now jump rope again. I suppose one should be thankful for small miracles. I celebrated by eating a burger and some fries, thereby guaranteeing at least one extra week of torture in terms of my quest to no longer look like the Pillsbury Doughboy. What the hell was I thinking? (A: I wasn't.)

Art Show Pieces

I am happy to say that prints of these two pieces are currently hanging (framed together) as part of a show of personal artwork done by technical artists at work:





They are digital photomanipulations, both working from WWII source imagery.

Happy Independence Day

Remeber to take time out today to celebrate and remember those who gave their lives to free The Earth from the tyrannical clutches of the Space Aliens, who did not permit Humans to send representatives to their Parliament, and whose taxation policies threatened to undermine Humanity's right to delicious, nutritious tea.

Comcast Sucks

We recently replaced AT&T and DirecTV with Comcast, mainly because AT&T would not allow existing customers to take advantage of the AT&T/DirecTV reduced priced bundle to renew their service, and Comcast offered a decently priced package deal. With Anu recently being laid off, reducing our overall Internet/Phone/TV costs seemed like a very good proposition.

Holy crap does Comcast suck!

Since we had Comcast previously in El Cerrito, which is less than five miles from our current place, we figured we'd be happy with them. This is not the case.

I have a class that is conducted via Skype. Today my connection was dropped more than 20 times during the 3 hour class. Not since the days of dial-up have I had so many connection failures in such a short amount of time. Sometimes the connection failure lasted over five minutes. And it was total failure -- I couldn't connect to any Internet service at all. And since Comcast is now also our telephone carrier, I had no phone service either. Not even 911 service.

This has been going on since the day of the Comcast installation. A classmate in the online class said he had a similar problem during his last Skype class, and Comcast was so unresponsive that he could only solve the problem by switching to AT&T. We're far away from any central office, and I know we probably won't get perfect service. We also had some connectivity problems with AT&T, but not even close to as bad as with Comcast -- I did four other Skype classes with the AT&T link with no big problems. This is so frustrating that I'm already considering switching back -- after less than a week with Comcast.

Week 3: The Slowening

It turns out that if you've been strenuously working out for 3 weeks (and you're me), that turns out to be the exact right amount of time for you to start getting slower and your aching to persist beyond the actual day of workout. Well now isn't that exciting?

We did pull-ups (which I never could do) using gigantic rubber bands as an assist. And you know what? Using that mechanical assist, pull-ups are... still are preposterously difficult, excruciating, and make me want to cry. As an added bonus, when I get worn out (i.e. after two or three wussy rubber band pull-ups), I lose the tension in my body and the rubber bands shoot my legs out in front of me and I have to cling on for dear life. Come to think of it, maybe that is secretly the exercise, and the pull-ups are an elaborate ruse.

On the plus side, I got new sneakers (New Balance cross trainers), so now my feet only feel like they've just been run over by a bus 50% of the time, rather than 100%. And a gym jacket. Now I look the part of a chubby wanker trying to play himself off as some kind of athlete.

And I finally did 15 damned rope jumps in a row, without tripping and stumbling. For someone as athletically challenged as I am, that's got to be some kind of progress. I just hope I can repeat it.

The Indie Auteur relaunch

I've relaunched my filmmaking blog, The Indie Auteur. The new host (Web Faction) seems a lot more stable, and responsive, than Yahoo! so hopefully this time it'll be up and running for a long time.

Moon

Moon was a much needed antidote to seeing Transformers 2. An excellent piece of Indie sci-fi, Moon evokes the feel of classic cerebral sci-fi like 2001, Solaris, Alien, and Silent Running (I've heard that several Silent Running SFX crew were brought on to help Moon capture that classic style). While its pacing and small scale won't appeal to most post-MTV viewers, I found it quite compelling. Made for only $5million, it's also a testament to the fact that you can make a great film for "hardly any money." If you enjoy thoughtful, slow-paced Sci-Fi, I highly recommend checking out Moon.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

Having read a number of reviews, and heard from folks at work who'd seen it before me, I thought I was fully prepared for just how bad this movie is. I was wrong, and I wound up walking out.

My expectations were: a mindless joyride with an incoherent plot and some decent action sequences. A thin, incoherent plot was definitely on offer, but surprisingly so was a hefty dollop of sexism (which I had expected) and racism (which I hadn't expected). I expected characterization to be idiotic, not overtly offensive. The action is more visually coherent than the first Transformers, but (if you can believe it) even less meaningful. There are also some sequences that violate whatever rules of the Transformers world had been established (spoiler examples: a Transformer that can disguise itself as a human rather than a machine, baby Decepticons being born in Aliens-like egg pods, and a dead Optimus Prime being brought back to life with an object other than a shred of the "All Spark").

The audience I saw the film with was audibly appalled at the scene where the two ghetto minstrel Autobots admit that they don't read. Since this was part of a "plot" point in which only ancient Transformers can read Cybertronian, some let it slide, though only those two say they don't read generally (as opposed to not being able to read ancient script). Even more appalling is the scene in which John Turturro's character is reintroduced, mainly because there's no real "plot" point to the stereotyping of Turturro's family and their dark-skinned employee.

It was not long after that scene that I left the theater.

Since the film was showing at work, I went back in to catch the last ten or so minutes. Not only could I pick the "plot" right back up having missed over an hour of the film, but I was also subjected to a "final battle" in which (more spoilers, in case you care) a newly resurrected Optimus Prime kills The Fallen and destroys his sun-destroying machine instantly. No gigantic robot battle of epic proportions. Just a few blasts from Optimus' big gun, and the fallen is killed. Then Megatron runs away. Optimus unceremoniously discards all the newly-integrated parts that another resurrected Transfomer had committed suicide in order to bestown upon him, and gives a speech. So even if you can sit through the whole thing, it's all for nothing.

There's apparently some plot involving humans, as well. Something to do with Megan Fox's breasts, I think. The emotion I felt most strongly about the part of the film that's not about robots (i.e. too much of it) was a confusion over whether to feel sorry for or angry with John Turturro.

It is a shame that Michael Bay uses his obvious skill at staging visually spectacular shots, and managing large casts and crews, to produce such utter rubbish.

The fact that this film is making such huge amounts of much money is a symptom of a number of reasons why my faith in audiences, and the human race generally, has been so shaken for so long.

Michael Jackson Dead

The King of Pop, and possibly the most famous person in the world, has died. It is unfortunate when anyone passes, especially for their friends and family. However, the adulation heaped upon dead celebrities, and the media frenzy that accompanies it, makes the event subject to critique in ways the private mourning of the family isn't. Though I still fondly remember Thriller (mainly for its excellent use of Vincent Price), the rest of Michael Jackson's career (both as a musician and a circus freak) had long ago ceased to interest me in any way. It is sad that he died so young, and it will be intriguing and perhaps even amusing to observe the inevitable process of Elvisification. But despite Jackson's tragic life and untimely death, personally I was much more effected by the passing of Ragnarok the Cat. Jackson's contributions to pop music, and pop culture (especially celebrity tabloid fare), are undeniable and worthy of a nod -- but the same can be said of so many deceased artists, many of whose work was more meaningful to me personally than was Jackson's. I wish that rather than heaping all the praise and remembrance upon superstars like Jackson, some of that attention could be shared amongst more of those incredible talents who passed in relative obscurity.

Week 2 of Pain and Misery

We just finished our 2nd week of torture/exercise at The Ice Chamber, and despite the excruciating pain in my back right now, I am somehow glad to be doing this -- though only after a couple hours have passed and the most immediate agony has subsided.

Normally, when Anu looks at me and smiles, it's a nice reminder of how much she loves me. When we're approaching or inside the gym, however, my brain (which is reflexively set to high school gym class mode by impending arrival at any athletic facility) maps her supportive looks onto perceived taunts about women naturally having more endurance and dexterity than men. Today I discovered that not only can't I do push-ups (never could), I also can't jump rope worth a damn (which was one of the few sporty things I actually could do as a kid, along with swimming and riding a bike).

I've not yet experienced that endorphin high that athletes bang on about all the time, but presumably I'll eventually look forward to this rather than approaching each trip to the gym with the attitude: "well, I guess it beats dying."

Farewell Furry Friend

Ragnarok the cat was born in 1993, and passed away a few weeks ago at almost exactly 16 years of age. He and his sister Thelema were born to my friend Jason's cat Döden, and traveled with us across country from NY to CA in 1993. At truck stops along the way we'd do our shopping each with a kitten in his pocket. Ragnarok and Thelema were my constant companions from 1993-2001, when the demise of Webmind, Inc. forced me to send Ragnarok and Thelema to live with my Mom and sister Janine on Long Island. He spent eight happy years with them, staying there even after my Mom convinced me to let them continue living with here even after Anu treated her cat allergies.

Ragnarok was an impressive hunter, often bringing offerings of dead rodents to my door. He also enjoyed being a lap cat, sitting for hours on my lap or my mom's while we worked on the computer or watched TV (especially as he got older and less able to hunt). Anyone who isn't a "cat person" will probably find an obituary for a cat to be ridiculous, but Ragnarok and Thelema were with me during some very difficult periods of my life, and went on to keep my Mom company during some not necessarily great times for her, as well, and Ragnarok's head-nudges and soothing purr will be missed by all who knew him.

From The Lighthouse

We've returned from the East Brother Light Station, and it was a great time. Ed and Anne are fantastic innkeepers, and we not only had a great view and an amazing experience, but good food and wine as well. It's quite an experience to be about ten miles from San Francisco City (and less than five miles from our house), and yet feel so isolated. Being in a lighthouse on an island accessible only by boat really does feel like being "a world away" right in my own neighborhood. Especially enjoyable was sitting in the lantern room beneath the beacon and listening to mp3s of incredible readings of Edgar Allen Poe stories by Iggy Pop, Vincent Price, and Basil Rathbone. A visit to EBLS is highly recommended -- I'm sure we'll go back ourselves before too long.

Photo by Ed Witts.

To The Lighthouse

Today Anu and I, and some friends, are going to go spend a night at the East Brother Light Station in the San Francisco Bay. The Light Station was originally built in 1874 (though several of the buildings are newer) and is still a functioning signal facility, with a bed and breakfast that has four rooms in the lighthouse and one in the original Fog Signal building. It should be fun.

First, The Pain

This morning Anu and I finished our second personal training session at The Ice Chamber. It's exactly the kind of place -- supportive and non-judgmental -- that had my high school gym been, maybe I would have taken exercise and sports more seriously before now.

In being supportive Jessica, our excellent new trainer, often asks us how we feel or if we feel good. Frankly, at this early stage, I mostly feel like vomiting and then going back to sleep. But I'm inspired to continue by a mid-30s realization that I'd rather not die in my 50s like my father did, combined with the impressive results achieved over the last few years by my friend Max, a former chubby nerd who is now a triathlete nerd in active training for Ironman Arizona 09.

My next health step: kicking my Diet Coke habit. It's the one addiction that I've tried and failed to kick, and finally doing so is on my todo list. While I enjoy being in the company of other Diet Coke drinkers such as Bill Clinton and Harvey Weinstein, I still think giving it up is for the best. Frankly, I think that my excessive consumption of the stuff contributes to the stomach pain and gas I have when working out. So if my mom can quit smoking after 40 years, I can quit drinking Diet Coke in the next few weeks.

The Land Of Rape And Honey

I'm listening to Ministry's "The Land of Rape and Honey" right now, and for some reason I am reminded of hearing the album for the first time as a fifteen year old and thinking: "I didn't know anything this amazingly awesome existed in our musical universe." Between 1988 and now, I've probably listened to this album (or at least parts of it) well over a thousand times.

Even twenty years later, it still sounds fresh, its impact undiminished by years of subsequent "industrial" and "nu-metal" stuff that's come along in the years since.

If you've never heard it, you're in for quite a treat if you seek it out and listen to it now. And if you haven't given it a spin "in years," I highly recommend that you put it on right away and remember that once upon a time, what was called "industrial" music was angry and innovative (and like punk of yore, covered a lot of disparate musical ground, not just one single sound -- in the case of contemporary "industrial," it's four-on-the-floor dance beats for "dark ravers" and all else has disappeared or been reclassified).

A New Kind of Bit Rot

My screenplay Welcome To Akron, which quarterfinaled last year in the Blue Cat screenwriting competition (as well as quarterfinaling in the Austin Film Festival competition and Slamdance, and getting past the proposal phase of Sundance Lab), did not even quarterfinal in Blue Cat this year.

I didn't change one word in the script between the two submissions. Therefore, I blame cosmic ray interference with my script.

This is my own personal example of how capricious screenwriting competitions are. Had my script been assigned to a reader more favorable towards it (and at least one professional reader who has read it has called it one of the best scripts he's seen in years) than the one(s) who read it last year, I might have placed higher this year. Instead, it went to a reader who was less favorably disposed towards it than the reader(s) last year, and it went nowhere.

So remember: the money you apply towards screenwriting competitions should be no greater than what you'd be willing to wager in Vegas, because once you've achieved a level of competence as a writer, what then constitutes a great script rather than just a very good one varies greatly enough from one reader to the next that placing in a competition is as much a game of luck as of skill.

Oh, Right... I Was A Blonde

In looking for photos of my late cat Ragnarok, to accompany his memorial post, I came across some photos of me as a blonde. I'd kind of forgotten about that period, even though I was blonde on and off for about seven years. It started with my manic panic blue washing out of my bleached hair, and eventually took on a life of its own. Personally, I liked the look, and it makes it very convenient to decide to go blue or purple, but bleaching really takes its toll on your hair and scalp. Nowadays I'm more likely to dye my hair black than to bleach it, but mostly I'm too busy with other stuff to pause and do anything fun with my hair at all.

I'm still trying to find some photos of Ragnarok, and then I'll post more about him, his eventful kitty life, and how much he meant to me.

(The synths in the photo are a PPG Wave, EDP Wasp, Memorymoog, and Nord Modular. I still have all four, though I haven't really had much time to play them since I started working in the film industry 7 years ago. Very sad. I need to rectify that particular scheduling issue post haste.)

Call Me A Nerd

Last night I heard an opinion piece on KQED / NPR the tagline of which was: "don't call me a nerd, call me an overachiever."

Call me nerd instead, thanks.

Nerds do whatever it is they're obsessed with because they love it. A nerd can't help their interest in computers, science, music, film, or whatever it is they "nerd out" about -- it just comes naturally. Overachievers are people who develop interests in subjects based on a deliberate analysis relative to some metric of achievement. They analyze the social landscape and their own abilities, then choose interests and activities based on what is most likely to help them "get ahead." It's overachievers that turn scientific and artistic interests into "horse races" with their obsessions with superlatives ("ten best whatevers!") and accolades such as Nobel Prizes and Academy Awards.

In this actuarial view of life, the joy of doing doesn't necessarily factor in. So call me a nerd. Personally, I'd much rather be associated with passionate endeavor than calculated gain for its own sake.

Post Party Depression

The last 3 weekends have been a lot of fun, as Anu and I have spread-out our 5th Anniversary celebrations over them. But, now that that's all passed, the high has worn off, and the crash has come.

First, we had a huge Memorial Day BBQ party at our house with about 60 attendees. I always get depressed after big parties, not just because of my usual post-party depression, but because I also regret not being able to spend more time with each attendee, and that leads to my second guessing myself about whether or not everyone had fun, and whether or not there was enough food for everyone. Perhaps, after the wrap parties on his films, Woody Allen has the same kind of neuroses about the success of the party.

Then we went to Lake Meade (and Las Vegas -- which was full of nothing but drunks and advertisements for hookers) with our families, rented a houseboat, and spent 2 days swimming in a cove and making more BBQ. That was awesome. As soon as we returned the boat to the Marina, I wanted to do it again. I spent most evenings the following week, after returning home late from all the overwork currently going on, falling asleep to the Lake Meade map, and dreaming about what other coves we might moor and swim in in the future.

Finally, we went to Los Angeles for the PGA Produced-By conference (yes, we spent part of our 5th anniversary at a conference). It was a great conference, and we met a lot of very nice, very interesting people. The weekend was packed with insightful information, amusing anecdotes, and hopeful musings about how the industry can embrace new ideas and new talent. I highly recommend the conference, if you're interested in film production. Now that I'm back up north, and back to the grind (and all the weird politics that conflates already difficult issues we need to work through, and quickly, for our next couple films), I wish I were back in any one of those three places: my BBQ, Lake Meade, or a big event in LA.

Notes on Notes #1: Reality

When giving notes on fiction, please keep in mind that fiction is about things that don't happen in real life. Therefore the statement "that doesn't happen in real life" is not a particularly helpful note. The statement "that is inconsistent with the fictional scenario you have established" is, on the other hand, a valid note (though it's better if you also explain why you think so). Thank you.

Fraud upon Fraud

I'm less sick now, so merely making it to work no longer consumes all of my energy.

I received a scam e-mail today that is interesting in that it is an attempt to use an infamous prior fraud as a hook in attempting to commit a subsequent fraud. It's similar to the "aide or family member of deposed despot trying to smuggle money out of the country" e-mails I've received in the past. But it's timeliness, and that it's an American personality cited in the purported deal, caught my attention.

Here is the message:

 I looked up your contact details and I am contacting you because of the urgency this situation demands.I am Mark Madoff son of Bernie Madoff founder of Bernard L. Madoff Investment Securities PLC.

My father is currently involved in a $50 billion Usd swindle with investors and the U.S government has decided to confisticate my family empire worth billions of U.S dollars.

We need your assistance to  help us receive and conceal 45 million Usd ($45,000,000,00)from one of our family offshore accounts as we are currently under pressure from the U.S government to give up all family assets.

For your efforts my family is willing to compensate you with 35% of the total funds. Note also that we have to be careful due to the huge nature of the funds.I will update you with more details as soon as I confirm your commitment to this deal.

Should you be interested please send me your details via email to enable us work on this together.

1:Full Names
2:Occupation:
3:Private Phone Number:
4:Current Residential Address:

Regards
Mark Madoff

Brazen and shameless. You'd have to be an absolute idiot to fall for this, given that you'd be willingly walking into a deal with someone who has given you a proposal based on the claim that they are involved with defrauding tens of billions of dollars from others. Do people really fall for this sort of "trust me, I'm an experienced criminal" type of hooks?

First Illness of 2009

As per usual when I am in NY in the winter and/or spend a lot of time traveling by air, I got sick. Fortunately, the worst of it arrived late New Year's Day, after all the holiday shenanegans were over. Honey lemon tea and spicy stuff hasn't been quite enough to clear my sinuses and sooth my throat. Anu taking me out to buy my first major wardrobe overhaul in at least five years has, at least, distracted me from being sick. But being sick is not all bad -- it was a good excuse to just relax, take naps, and eschew stressing about anything for the last 3 days (and that is what it takes to get me to fully relax, otherwise I'm perpetually thinking I should be working on something).

Happy New Year's Day

Here's hoping 2009 is much better than 2008 was.

New York Is Dead

Coming back to NY is always nostalgic, but as the city continues to get more expensive, and only cater to the wealthy, more and more of old NY disappears. In once affordable, interesting, artsy neighborhoods like Soho, Greenwich Village and The East Village the assortment of artists and countercultural misfits have been replaced with hipster yuppies that dress like Weezer and the teacup poodle set.

Great places like 99X (where I bought my first pair of Doc Martens), The New Music Distribution Service, and Rocks In Your Head already closed over a decade ago, but each time we return to NY the list of iconic NYC places that are still open gets shorter. Religious Sex already closed a few years ago, as did Second Coming Records (where I bought about 40-50% of my entire 80s and early 90s record collection). Accidental CDs Records and Tapes is now gone as well. And while CBGB's demise and the troubled decline of the Limelight have been well chronicled by many, the death of a slew of smaller clubs and bars haven't been, such as the excellent experimental music venue Tonic and the wonderful Avenue A dive, The Korova Milk Bar. On this trip the death list continues to grow: Love Saves The Day (which will keep it's New Hope, PA store open) is closing in January and Pongsri Restaurant is gone without a trace. Urban Outfitters has become so much a clone of The Gap that its previous existence as a quirky NY venue is pretty much moot. So many small art galleries and music venues died when Soho became an upscale shopping mall, I can't even remember most of their names -- and the larger, wealthier galleries wiped-out most of the remains of the Meat Packing District club scene. Meanwhile, entire working class neighborhoods like Hell's Kitchen no longer exist.

A few survivors still hanging on: Exit Art, The Kitchen, Bleecker Bob's, Trash & Vaudville, The Strand, St. Mark's Sounds, and Forbidden Planet, Katz's Deli, East Village Books, and St. Mark's Bookstore. If you're in New York, help keep these places open by giving them your business. There might be no way to make NY affordable for working class people, artists, writers and musicians again, and bring back its cultural vitality, but maybe a few vestiges can be kept intact.

UPDATES: Mondo Kim's is also closing, leaving only a video sales shop on 7th. Their entire rental collection will be given to any NY film school or rental shop that agrees to continue to allow Kim's customers to rent from them.
And yes, by New York I mean Manhattan. In fact, I basically mean Soho, East Village/Lower East Side/Bowery, Greenwich Village/Chelsea/Meat Packing District, and environs. Even though I lived in Brooklyn for a few years, and Williamsburg / Greenpoint seems to be thriving -- that's all new stuff as far as I'm concerned. And while I'm all for new stuff that's interesting (i.e. not corporate cookie-cutter crap), I miss the old New York.

Home For The Holidays

I'm in New York visiting family for the holidays. Since living in California and working a demanding (time-wise) job means I rarely get to see them, I will most likely be back to the blog in 2009.

Sonoma County Wine

Anu and I went up north Sunday, into Sonoma County, Napa's lesser known sibling region. While everyone seems to know about Napa wines these days (we recommend V. Sattui, Praeger Port Works, Heitz, and Grgich), Sonoma is only starting to get the recognition it deserves. There are too many really good wineries up there to list them all, so I recommend repeated visits, and a trip to the Sonoma County Harvest Festival (each October) to sample a range. Here, however, are a few of our favorites:

Amphora
Winemaker Rick Hutchinson is a heck of a nice, friendly guy, and Amphora is one of the best places around to go for barrel tastings because of that. Rick makes one of the only Chardonnays I'll even drink at all, never mind enjoy, and his reds include excellent Zinfandel and Cabaret Sauvignon, as well as Merlot, Syrah, and Pinot Noir (all varietals I don't normally care for that much, but all of which are excellent at Amphora -- I've even bought futures on Pinot and Syrah there). We drink way too much Amphora wine to really have a favorite.

Suncé
Hailing from Croatia, winemaker Frane Franicevic makes California wines in an old world style. While I'm not normally a big fan of non-German whites, their Pinot Gris is particularly good (as are their German style whites: Riesling and Viognier). Their reds include a particularly good selection of California-Italian style wines: several Zinfandels, Barbera, Sangiovese, and also a very good Bordeaux-style Meritage wine, and several Pinot Noirs. My particular favorite on the red side is the Meritage, though really even their least interesting wine is above average. The staff is friendly, and Suncé's barrel tasting days also involve good food as well as great wine.

Camellia Cellars
Winemakers Bruce Snyder and Chris Lewand run a small, homey shop and are also friendly folks. Camellia makes some good Zinfandel, Sangiovese, Syrah, and even a Dolcetto. Their blends, Damio Grazie and (when it's available) Lost Barrels, are both excellent. Lost Barrels is a favorite of ours, though that blend is always an experiment and is only available when Bruce decides that he's got a blend worth releasing -- and that's not every year.

Deux Amis
This small winery run by Phyllis Zouzounis and Jim Penpraze specializes in Zinfandels -- they have five different Zins, one Pinot Noir and one Petit Sirah. You can really taste the difference between their Zinfandels, and all five are good. Tasting is by appointment only, though, so call in advance if you're going up to Sonoma and want to visit this winery. It's worth the bother.

Martin Ray
Formerly Martini and Pradi, Martin Ray has restored the M&P red jug wine, and while it is no longer unsulfited, it still tastes very much like an Italian working class table wine, which is great. The large jug wine is, in my opinion, superior to their smaller jug wine called "Red" in the fancier bottle. They also have a good Cab and some other decent wines, but the jug wine is really the main reason we go to Martin Ray.

Trendadue
Another winery that we go to primarily for one thing, Trentadue carries the sparkling wine that the once great, now defunct Topolos / Russian River winery used to sell (it is made by the same winemaker, who was a subcontractor to both wineries specifcally for this sparkling wine). Trentadue also has one of the few Rosé wines that I can drink, and good selection of decent red wines, and some nice Port style wines (including one made from Viognier, which is unusual and tasty).

Even though there is good stuff to drink right here in Alameda County -- such as Rosenblum (who also have a shop in Sonoma), Periscope (who share a space right here in Emeryville with another good winery, whose name I can't remember, but if you go to Periscope you get to try both), and St. George (who make spirits, not wine) -- we still like to go up to Sonoma, a growing region where you can see the vineyards and make a day of it.

Unfortunately, the consolidators, and bus tour operators (who charge for tours but don't share proceeds with the wineries, and therefore drive the wineries to charge for tastings because tour visitors rarely purchase wine), are starting to ruin Sonoma like they have Napa. If you want to establish relationships with winemakers and tasting room staff, and enjoy all the benefits that provides (friendly service, interesting discussions, barrel tastings, sit-downs with snacks and wine, etc.), you had best start heading up to Sonoma now, before it's too corporate for anyone to have a good time other than the company accountants.

Wally's Cafe

Wally's Cafe in Emeryville is one of my favorite restaurants, and I highly recommend going there if you're in the area and like Middle Eastern (Lebanese in this case) food. Wally's is a mom-and-pop joint which has a totally different atmosphere and style, but still reminds me of the sadly defunct Bistro E. Europa with Gypsy Flavor in San Francisco. Both restaurants were run by immigrant couples making traditional, delicious, and not-at-all-fancy dishes. And in both cases, the friendly owners are as much of a draw as the food.

You won't find anything at Wally's made with organic whole kale with extract of ginseg root, or that sort of thing. There are no special light, Atkins, vegan, macrobiotic, raw, or whole options (though a vegan could happily eat the Hummous and Babaghanouj with pita, or the excellent Lentil Soup). No, this food is traditional style Lebanese comfort food. I was in fact introduced to the restaurant by a Lebanese colleague who, rarely able to find food that reminds him of home, discovered Wally's the week it opened.

My favorite dish is the Pomegranate Chicken, which is done in a style which I've never had anywhere else, and I consider to be up there with the best dishes of much fancier Middle Eastern restaurants in the area. The Gyros, Kafta, Shawarma, and other dishes are also excellent, and the Baklava and Hibiscus Iced Tea are both must haves.

Ejected from his homeland by war, Wally has come to the U.S. to try to have a better life, like my own family after WWII. Restaurant work was not his first career, but this is his third restaurant, and the experience certainly shows in the excellent food. At least one review has called the Yelp kudos for Wally's Cafe "overly enthusiastic given the category." What I think this reviewer is missing is that the category itself is part of the positive vibe around the place. Wally and his wife Angelica are friendly and unpretentious, and so is their restaurant. Given the sometimes obnoxious tone found in the abundant hipper-than-thou Bay Area restaurants, Wally's is a lungful of fresh air.

Located behind a dingy bar (The Bank Club) with which it shares bathrooms, Wally's is very much in the style of what New Yorkers affectionately call a local dive. It's the kind of place that you're not sure if you should let people know about. I want Wally to have as much success as possible, but on the other hand I don't want a bunch of schmucks to start showing up and ruining the place for the rest of us. I'll err on the side of drumming up business for him, though, and say that in these tough economic times small businesses like Wally's really need your support. So when you're in the Emeryville-West Oakland area and are thinking about grabbing lunch, go grab it at Wally's. You won't spend much more than at, say, the nearby Denny's or IHOP -- but the food and atmosphere are 1000 times better.

Depression Depression

Maybe it's cyclical Christmas blues, or maybe it's the impending economic Depression, but I've been depressed even more than usual the last 3 weeks or so. The Bay Area doesn't have very ambitious weather, and its idea of winter is rain, which I love, so it's not like that's to blame.

I'm going to go with the impending economic Depression theory. I've blogged a bit about the economy over at TFG, but it's getting to me enough that it's interfering with my real life, not just agitating my political braincells, and stepping all over the mental space needed for the things I'd normally write about here.

In fact I've been unable to write anything at all of much value since the week before Thanksgiving, which just makes me angrier. I find myself more worried than excited about anything and everything lately (even more so than usual).

Our house is now likely worth enough less than we paid for it that if we sold it we may not even be able to pay-off our mortgage and wind up making monthly payments on something we don't even own anymore. This means we're stuck here no matter what, for quite a long time.

None of the personal projects I'd hoped to get third party investment for are going to be looked at right now, either. Everything is our lives are in stasis as we slog through these wretched economic times (and meanwhile various CEO types are going around defending bonuses that vastly exceed all the money I've ever earned in my life).

They're even aggressively, preemptively cutting costs at work, something they've never done before. I'm lucky to have a job at all. But I don't want to feel that way. I want to feel excited about my work, and the economic situation is making that very difficult since I feel like there's a gun to my head to work or else (which makes it pretty hard to actually enjoy it).

All in all it's very unsettling to be so excessively -- settled. And yet, while a bad economy makes work start to feel more like a prison, at the same time it makes that security seem so precarious. It's a very aggravating contradiction to feel like the situation both traps you somewhere, and at the same time makes you feel like that place ejected you that you'd be totally lost.

Now I know why they call it a Depression.

Contributing to Two Books for 2009 (maybe more)

Ben Goertzel and I will be rewriting "The Path to Posthumanity" into a book we hope will actually sell this time, along with new co-author Lisa Rein who lends her needed experience as an editor to the project. Right now we're still in the preliminary phases of getting into the rewrite, but the book will be out by mid-2009 if our publisher agrees to release it at a reasonable price point. Ben and I have at least four other books we're supposed to be working on together, and I'm hoping we'll get cracking on at least one of them in 2009.

I am also contributing to a forthcoming handbook of Visual Effects production, an outline for which was just submitted to a publisher. That book is an edited volume, and will have around 30 authors or so. I doubt anyone outside the industry will have any interest in the book, but it should be pretty good for industry folks (hopefully meaning not just TDs, but artists, producers, directors, cinematographers, and others as well).

New URLs and Hosting Changeover

After many years sharing a colocated server hosted by Silicon Valley Colocation (formerly part of Meer.net), I have unfortunately had to switch over to a shared managed server hosted by Webfaction. This was not my choice, but the server was once shared by four paying contributors, and the last one decided to opt-out a month ago, leaving me responsible for a $200/month bill which, since my web sites earn no money, I couldn't really afford, despite that being a great price for great service.

I will miss SVcolo and the server itself, but so far the transition to Webfaction has been very smooth, and their prices are very reasonable for the services provided. My only complaint so-far, besides only being able to afford a shared server (my problem, not theirs), is that SFTP transfers are very flaky and unreliable, and that DNS override changes take a while to propagate even into WF's own DNS servers. I've also not yet heard back to my support request about SFTP (and one about e-mail services), but have heard back in less than 24 hours for the other four or five support requests I've made, which is a very good response rate for a shared server account at any company.

Because DNS changes are trivial using Webfaction's server control panel, I've done some things I'd been too lazy to until now, including pointing www.lhooqtius.com at this blog, and www.feralgovernment.com to The Feral Government. While I'm not thrilled about losing the freedom associated with a colocated server, the upside is that what little system administration (which I was sick of doing years ago) I have to do for my own sites is trivial, and everything else is Webfaction's responsibility. Downtime due to someone else's code run amok on the server is a real concern, but it's a risk I have to take at this point due to the economics of the situation. Hopefully things at Webfaction will be as trouble-free in the long-term as they have been over the last few days.

Slumdog Millionaire

While some people think this year has been a bad year for films, I've seen some really fantastic films this year: Let The Right One In, Death In Love, Ponyo, and now, Slumdog Millionaire -- Danny Boyle's best film, at least equal to and perhaps even better than Trainspotting (which is one of my favorite films), and a great film not just in the "Oscar worthy" sense, but also in the "people will still be watching this film in 100 years" sense.


Part love story and part social commentary, Slumdog Millionaire is a postmodern parable, a fast-paced, relentless story about struggling against seemingly insurmountable odds. Based on the novel Q&A by Vikas Swarup, it traces the tragic life of Jamal Malik as he attempts to explain to a police inspector how he came to know the answers that led him to 10 million rupees and the upcoming final question on the Indian version of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?" This conceit is a brilliant hook, as it provides a tension line -- will Jamal be exonerated by the police, win the money, and get back the girl of his dreams -- that gives the already poignant flashbacks an added sense of urgency, and allows them to succeed in driving the main plot forward rather than seeming like pointless digressions.

The acting is excellent, especially star Dev Patel (adult Jamal) and child actors Ayush Mahesh Khedekar and Azharuddin Mohammed Ismail (as youngest Jamal and his brother Salim, respectively), and Director Danny Boyle creates a sense of time and place that feels very genuine. Despite the fast pace, the editing is masterful, and there is neither staccato cutting nor excessive shakycam in an attempt to give false urgency to boring scenes. There's no need, since there are no boring scenes, and the urgency seems all too real. Sound and music is also carefully integrated, helping to craft both setting and theme, without turning any of the film into a music video (a potential Bollywood "homage" thanfully avoided by Boyle).

Some have given this film negative reviews based on what appears to me to be the flawed belief that any film which shows poor people managing to (even momentarily) be happy despite their circumstances is unrealistic. This leads to the ridiculous claim that this film which depicts squalor, murder, child mutilation, child prostitution, and a litany of other social ills is somehow soft-pedaling poverty -- presumably because it hasn't utterly destroyed the spirit of Jamal and everyone else in his class, and because no enlightened white saviors arrive to set things right and assuage their historical guilt. Since this film is a parable about the indomitability of the human spirit, there is some degree of the fantastic. But that element is restricted almost entirely to the Millionaire conceit and the endgame of Jamal and Latika's romance, rather than whitewashing the depictions of a life of poverty.

If you get a chance to see this film, do so immediately. And hopefully you will have the chance. Fox Searchlight, who showed their marketing prowess with Sideways, Napoleon Dynamite, Little Miss Sunshine, and Juno (none of which made under $40M domestic), has inexplicably restricted this film's release to 49 theaters for Thanksgiving Weekend despite the fact that it's pulling in an average of $10,000/weekend night at the theaters it's in. People do want to see this film. It's not a narrow demographic indie film (which I personally like), but a universally appealing, Dickensian story of rags-to-riches fortune, good vs. evil, and true love.