Month: November 2004

  • Astronaut

    The lead-off single, Sunrise, from the new Duran Duran album has been kicking around the airwaves for quite some time now. Now that the album’s out (and my workplace was kind enough to kick me over a copy), I’ve had a chance to see if the rest of the album lives up to such a peppy, catchy selling track.

    I’m not sure how best to put this, but how about I just say that as a pop record, it succeeds on its own merits.

    I should explain. I generally listen to two types of music, much to my dear father’s chagrin: Rock, and Pop. The line between the two is often muddied, and I tend not to really care one way or the other which is which. The only real distinction between the two in my mind is that of Safe versus Risky. I don’t care how many guitars are playing, if the song is crafted so as to appeal precisely to a core demographic, it’s Pop. (Insert diatribe about so-called edgy “alternative rock” bands here.) Rock, admittedly, usually involves electric guitars. The Pet Shop Boys don’t exactly write what most people would consider “rock music.”

    Like I said, the line is often muddied. But bear with me, here.

    Astronaut is a very good pop record. It’s neatly, almost lovingly produced. There are nice variations in tone and tempo and effect. However, there’s not a risk taken anywhere. This thing is instantly recognizable as a Duran Duran record, and at no point is there a surprise track. Maybe your experience was different, but I was pleasantly surprised by some of the tracks on The Wedding Album. I’m thinking both of the two hit singles (Come Undone and Ordinary World) and some of the unaired tracks (Love Voodoo and Too Much Information). They sounded, of course, like Duran Duran… but they were just different enough to make me think, “Hey. Not bad. Way to do something unexpected, guys.”

    I listened to this new album all the way through and while at no point did I think that a particular song sucked (oddly enough, this too is unlike my experience with The Wedding Album), none of the songs stuck in my mind either. Are the lead-off tracks good? Sure, they’re catchy and peppy and all that, but a year from now nobody’s going to be listening to them.

    The closest thing to “something different” comes at the end of the album in the form of Still Breathing, a dark-ish piece that includes the idea of burning down one’s hometown. Now if only it was a more memorable song, I’d be more excited about this.

    By comparison, the Franz Ferdinand album is also a very carefully crafted pop record, but it works in a way Astronaut entirely fails to. If I was a more knowledgeable sort, I suppose, I could put my finger on exactly why, but there you have it. This is why I don’t write for Rolling Stone, Pulse, or that neighborhood rag you see at the store but never bother picking up.

    I’ll say it again: This is a very good pop record. If you like Duran Duran at all, this is not a bad purchase. I actually suspect that a few of these tracks would make outstanding remixes. But… I wanted something I could really get stuck in my head and enjoy the hell out of, and this ain’t it.

  • Now watching for falling pig feces…

    The workday wasn’t too terrible, and in fact I accomplished a number of nifty things. A not-so-nifty chore I wasn’t looking forward to, though, was setting up our Office Manager on a new network arrangement that includes an HP print server (since she now has to share her printer with her new cubemate). Traditionally the job of making HP JetDirect servers talk to Netware fileservers has been the stuff of ulcers.

    I didn’t have much choice this time, though, so I went ahead and ran the installer off of the CD-ROM, figuring that in the worst case scenario I’d at least be able to find out what IP address the print server had taken, even if no other part of the install worked as advertised.

    Not only did it work — the first time — but it did so with almost no required input from Yours Truly. I’m not kidding. The only thing I changed was the print queue name (to something slightly less cryptic, given the way XP names network printers… argh). The test page printed. Installing the new print queue on the end-user computer was also flawlessly smooth.

    So, uh, who let the flying pigs out? ‘Cause this is freaky, man.

  • More Aftermath

    More bullet-points from the field of battle:

    • First I had to add shell info to each of the user accounts before FTP would work. Then I had to tell ProFTPd where it could go stick its notion of defaulting to a chroot home directory login for all users. On account of this, RDS info for many of our stations’ websites was nonexistent until midday. Argh.
    • The default Apache config file in Fedora Core 3 is set not to run CGI scripts. Um, what? (This broke Mari’s and Dawn’s sites. Argh.)
    • The upgrade to a newer version of PHP somehow managed to leave our comments script mysteriously broken. Luckily someone posted a simple and effective fix on the dotcomments support group. Whew. I’d never have figured that one out on my own.
    • While trying to solve the previous mystery, I discovered that ‘jhead’ was missing on the server. This is a JPEG header information program that Gallery uses… and we have Gallery installed a few times on this server, donchaknow.

    I’m sure there’ll be more. There’s no way I can be allowed to get more than three consecutive hours of sleep, after all…

  • Whoops, (near) Apocalypse

    So the next time I get a bright idea in my head to upgrade the webserver, remind me what a disaster this turned out to be. Please?

    Let’s see how many things can go wrong in one server upgrade:

    • Grub strangeness post-install, requiring use of the “rescue” mode of the install CD.
    • An intensely frustrating experience trying to make networking work, solved hours later by the discovery that SMP kernels don’t like APM/ACPI on some motherboards. Oh, isn’t that nice. By the time I got this one figured out it was too late to catch a bus home.
    • The VirtualHost directive in Apache 2.x is ever-so-slightly different from what it was in 1.3. Just enough to give me the better part of an hour’s frustration.
    • When you’re already tired (and very hungry), trying to make Qmail work isn’t the easiest thing in the world. It doesn’t help when you’re a doofus who forgets to turn off Sendmail before firing up Qmail. Ouch.
    • Courier-IMAP gave me similar headaches.
    • I couldn’t figure out for the longest time where the ‘maildir’ script came from that I was using in my .qmail files. Oh, turns out it’s actually ‘safecat’. Duh?

    And that’s just the stuff that takes me to, oh, right now. That would be 2:30 in the Ayy Emm, thank you very little.

    Bah. I couldn’t get home now if I wanted to…

  • NaNoMore

    See, it’s like this. I cranked out nine thousand words. That’s a good thing, yes. The problem is that I’m not having fun. I’m not getting anything out of it. I’m writing for the sake of generating words, not because I think I’m going to do anything with those words once I’m done.

    I have nothing to prove, except possibly that 2002 wasn’t a fluke. But you know what? If that’s the only reason to do it, then it’s not a good enough reason.

    What have I learned this time? I think it’s mainly that what I’m good at is dialog. I mean, c’mon. Look at my NaNo excerpts over the last, oh, two years and some-odd. It’s all dialog-driven. I suppose the difference now is that I can actually say I’m good at something without feeling like I should turn around and beat myself up about something else to make up for feeling good about myself. If that makes any sense, well, good for you.

    I want to work on projects that actually have some hope of bringing me joy when I’m through. I have an AMV for which I finally came up with a solid concept about two weeks before NaNoWriMo kicked off (and so I didn’t start on it because I didn’t want to halt mid-production for a bunch of writing). There’s my videotape-to-DVD archive project to work on. There’s, oh, actually having the time to read books again.

    That’s right, I selfishly have decided that I want my free time back. Ah well.

    So I’m going to leave you with one final excerpt, my last NaNovel writing. Period. Enjoy?

    “Good? How is this good?”

    “They’re taking you seriously. And, hey, all things considered you didn’t handle yourself too badly. There’s a good chance that next time you’ll give this loser the thorough beating he so richly deserves.”

    “He tore my jacket! He nearly killed me!”

    I shook my head. “He didn’t as nearly kill you as you think. He just wants you to think that way so you’ll be too scared next time to do anything. Oh, and the jacket will be repaired correction, replaced, the next time you transform.”

    “So, wait I read about this in my Social Studies class. It’s, ah, psychic warfare, right?”

    “Psychological. But yeah. He’s psyching you out. Don’t let him.”

    “Easy for you to say. Nobody shoots at the cute cuddly puppy dog.”

    If she was up for cracking jokes, she was getting over the worst of her fear. “I can’t help it if I’m just too adorable, darlin’.”

    “Uh huh. Whatever.”

    “Seriously though, what you’ve just met is what we in the business call a ”˜lieutenant.’ He’s smarter, tougher and better dressed than the regular riff raff you’ve been facing up ”˜til now. He may even be one of the guys who summon or otherwise control those low-level creatures. Never forget, though, that they’re still just overdressed henchmen. They’re merely different faces to hide and protect your real opponent.”

    “And who would that be?”

    “I don’t know. You’ll meet him, or her, eventually. I suspect you’ll have to face a few of these lieutenants first.”

    Lacey started to panic again. “A few! Are you serious?”

    “Absolutely. Now, this guy’s a pushover. All you have to do is appeal to his vanity, and hit him when he’s distracted.”

    “Uh, how do I do that?”

    I cocked my head and just looked at her.

    “No way!”

    “He’s a boy. You’re a girl. Don’t tell me you’ve made it to fifteen years of age without knowing how to distract a boy.”

    “Oh.”

    “I can modify the outfit a bit if you”””

    “That’s okay! I’m sure I can handle it without um”

    “Revealing too much?” I suggested helpfully.

    “Yeah.” Then she had a bit of an epiphany. “So, is that why they picked a girl for this job?”

    “That’s part of it. There are other very good reasons, not quite so blatantly tactical. Most of them also have to do with the stereotypical differences between men and women, however.”

    “I’m supposed to be all caring and nurturing and stuff.”

    “Sometimes, yes. And while that’s not a guaranteed factor in any given female, it’s statistically more likely to find a girl willing to express those traits than a boy, if you don’t mind me oversimplifying what is actually a very complex and tricky bit of sociological math.”

    “Uh, right.” She thought some more. “So what you want me to do is try my own kind of psychological warfare? What do you think would work better, playing weak and dumb or doing a tease?”

    “Honestly? He’ll try to kill you at the first sign of weakness, this one. He’s pretty but there’s not a bone’s worth of kindness anywhere in him. His ego, however, seems to know no bounds. I bet the tease would work.”

    Oddly enough, this prospect pleased Lacey immensely. “This is great! I get to flirt for the sake of humanity!”

    At that moment, to tell the goddesses’ own truth, I didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or fear for the safety of the planet. “Well, if you want to look at it that way”

    If you’re lucky, you won’t be subjected to any more of my attempts at creative writing. See? I’m all about the silver linings, baby.

  • So much for “catch up”

    600 words yesterday, 2100 today. It wasn’t quite the nose-to-grindstone weekend of writing I originally had planned. This morning I just couldn’t write. I tried, stared at the screen, listened to music, tried again, gave up and played City of Heroes, took a short nap, and finally I was able to write.

    Bleah.

    I may try to crank out another few hundred before I go to bed, but first I’ll be engaging in the traditional Sunday evening game sessions. Wish me luck on both counts, eh?