Just searching through some links from the Drupal website, the home of some weblogging software I’m considering using. The Drupal Sites page has a long list of weblog links on it. So long I got lost.

If the Onion hasn’t written about the weblog craze yet, they could write a headline along the lines of “Millions of Weblogs Available On Web. All Suck.” My thinking is that the huge list on this page doesn’t give much context for the sites.

It makes me think that Google’s purchase of Blogger had some actual purpose. There are plenty of fantastic weblogs out there but no good indexes or search engines to find them. At least, few that I’m aware of.

So what’s the best way to fish the best blogs out of the sea of mediocrity? Does something like this exist?

CNN is now reporting that Martha Stewart has just been indicted for securities fraud. While she may indeed by guilty (I happen to think she is), I can’t help but feel like she’ll have the book thrown at her while the big boys – the Enron and MCI folks who bilked far more investors than Martha ever did – will get off scot-free.

I’m still waiting for the current administration to restore the public faith in the economy by cleaning up ALL Wall Street excesses, not just the small-fish-but-easy-targets like Stewart. Too bad our fearless leader is too busy chasing shadows in the Middle East to notice that the economy is in the toilet. Hey Mr. Bush: the unemployed have plenty of time to go vote. Don’t forget that.

I wrote the ACLU a message on their website recently. I had received another mailing from them asking me for money. Like all the others I’ve received, it didn’t list even one victory ACLU has had against the ever-increasing security paranoia in this country. I expected some hard answers as to just what the ACLU was doing nowadays, other than soaking up money. After four days, I finally got a response from them. No one even bothered to personally reply: it was a form email.

A form letter. After four days. Way to make your case, guys.

On the other hand, I wrote to Earthlink’s Unlimited Voice to inquire as to when they would be offering service in the area. Unlimited Voice, if you aren’t familiar, is a voice-over-IP service that’s available nearly nationwide, but not yet available here in the Triangle. Not only did I receive a personal email reply from a real, live person, it arrived less than an hour after I contacted them!

Needless to say, the contrast is eye-opening. I’m not sure Unlimited Voice is making any money yet, while the ACLU is enjoying record donations now that everyone’s scared silly. You’d think they could take the time to send me an actual hand-crafted email. I mean, it doesn’t take long.

When I joined the Navy I found myself at odds with my membership to Greenpeace. I felt I couldn’t fund an organization that was harrassing the Navy ships on which I was a crewmember. I wrote them a three-page letter telling them my reasons for quitting. Rather than insult me with a form letter response, the head of Greenpeace himself sent me a passionate, well-written rebuttal. He didn’t change my mind, but he did make a positive impression on me. He showed me they actually cared about their customers.

They listened to them.

I was reminded today that the Raleigh International Spy Conference is coming to town in August. It is a few days of conferences featuring spy luminaries from both sides of the Iron Curtain.

For a former Cryptologic Technician, this kind of stuff really appeals to me. It also makes me uncomfortable. Having once held a security clearance, I wonder what I’ll actually hear in this public forum that will be worth hearing. But what really concerns me is … what if I do hear something I know to be classified? It was never easy tap-dancing around those types of situations. The line “I can neither confirm nor deny … ” was drilled into our heads as the only response to nuclear weapons questions, even though any id10t with a geiger counter would know instantly if the weapons we had were hot. Sometimes open technology makes official doublespeak moot.

My job in the Navy was not a cloak-and-dagger one by any stretch, though it had its interesting moments. My ship’s battlegroup was constantly shadowed by a Soviet intelligence gathering (AGI) ships, soaking up all our electronic emissions. But they stayed miles away from us.

There was also this incident that occured during my second deployment, at a hotel bar while we were in port in Oman. A drunk man and woman were striking up conversations with my buddies, openly admitting they were KGB agents. Whether or not they knew my shipmates and I held clearances or not, I don’t know. I could never figure out what they had to gain by blatantly telling us they were spies. Perhaps they were looking for work or had nothing to lose, since the Soviet Union was crumbling at the time. Or maybe the KGB determined the direct approach worked better. Either way, we reported the contact to the government of Oman, which promptly kicked them out of the country.

I’ve heard before that the Triangle area is a favorite retirement spot of members of the “foreign service.” The former State Department minion and suspected spy Felix Bloch, who was allegedly photographed handing a suitcase to a known KGB agent in Paris, has seen his lifestyle change considerably since he retired. Once he lived the good life in Zurich, wining and dining with diplomats. Now drives a bus in Chapel Hill (I am not making this up). Allegedly, Robert Hanssen, the FBI agent turned double-agent, helped get Bloch the bus-driving gig. Hanssen reportedly tipped Bloch off about his investigation before the FBI could nail him.

There are others in the area, too. A friend of mine who has become a Linux luminary is rumored to have retired from the CIA. I wonder if he’ll be at the conference.

The price of the conference is steep, but it is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to rub elbows with the movers and shakers who’ve lived life in a shadowy world. The spook in me can’t pass it up.

I bought my new Sanyo SCP-4900 Sprint PCS phone yesterday and called Sprint today on my new phone to activate it.

When the Sprint rep began asking me for my “vitals” (SSN, birthdate, address), I was a little unnerved. It wasn’t that she needed them, but the way she asked for them.

“Your address, sir?”

(I read her my address. There is a long pause.)

“Can you spell your street for me, please?”

(I spell it and its on to the next question.)

“Your name, sir?”

“Mark Turner.”

(silence)

“Uh, sir, can you please spell that for me?”

At this point, I’m thinking. . . I am now signing up for what is allegedly the latest and greatest in cell phone technology: the “Free and Clear” plan or whatnot. The “so-clear-you-can-hear-a-dadgum-pin-drop-on-frickin-Mars” plan, right? So, uh, why isn’t the rep understanding what I’m telling her?

I’m hoping the problem is in her headset and not my shiny new cellphone service, or its going to be a long year, indeed.

…but its hard to tell which is which, isn’t it?

A British soldier has been arrested for developing pictures apparently showing the torture of Iraqi prisoners of war.

One picture is reported to show a PoW, gagged and bound in netting, dangling from a forklift truck driven by a soldier. Other photographs taken in southern Iraq apparently show soldiers performing sex acts close to Iraqi prisoners.

Kind of tough to win over the respect of the Iraqi people with behavior like this occuring. Expect some severe courts-marshall for these idiots.

Should also be interesting to see how the liberal media handles this story.

And in the morning
He dress and go to hell.
All activated by
A little timer bell.
-Spin Doctors Forty or Fifty

While putting Hallie to bed a little while back, I began to muse about what life milestone really marks the death knell of the fun of childhood. Two ideas came to mind (and one promptly turned around and left. Maybe I should muse on what marks old age, eh?)

Hallie’s world is so different from mine because she is not yet a slave to the clock. Infants don’t schedule their lives around what time it is. They don’t wake up to the sound of a jarring alarm clock: they wake up when they wake up. They don’t eat at a regular time: they eat when they’re hungry. What we experience as 30 minutes of playtime, she experiences as a virtual hour of fun.

While I was unemployed I had the chance to relive life unbound from the artificial stresses of time. At least to some degree, anyway; everyone has their committments. It was a refreshing break to say the least.

We are so rigid with the parceling out of minutes and days. You must work at least 40 hours a week. We must be at work by nine o’clock. Dinner will start promptly at 6 PM.

The third millennium is so much different than the second one.

Sorry, don’t have time for the gym tonight.

Just don’t have the time.

Where does the time go? Does it ever really get here?

I came across a serendipitous article today in the local Business Leader magazine. It sums up my thoughts very well:

For almost all of human existence, time was measured by the calender, not the clock. We charted our lives by the moon, the sun, the seasons, and the migration of the animals. Almost all of the noises and sounds to which we are accustomed did not exist for our great-grandparents. And almost all have to do with transportation, communication and time – getting you and/or your information to someone else on time.

Just think, quietly for a moment, about the stress in your life. How much of it is caused by time? Bedtime, alarm clock, rush hour, appointments, meetings, time clocks, etc. You’re scheduling, or worse, someone else is scheduling, your life around time.

Well, in our little world which we have created for ourselves, we certainly can’t do without accurate time, but it might do you some good to remember it doesn’t really exist. We made it all up. So, some quiet peaceful morning, say to yourself, “Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?” Then, for a while, just be. You’ll find it refreshing.

Next week, the little girl who’s world knows no time will turn one year old. We’ll throw her a big party, cheering her on as her first birthday becomes her initiation into the world of time, one from which she may never escape. Soon she’ll be scurrying from one place to another, beckoned by the hands of the clock.

I hope she’ll be smart enough to take her eyes off her watch once in a while and simply enjoy life.

I got my first paycheck from my new job at Oculan today. It covers four days, and was totally unexpected. I never get on anyone’s payroll this quickly, but since Monday was Memorial Day, the payroll processing company Paychex had a later deadline for payroll this time around.

Though the check is lightweight, it is nonetheless money. It also means that I only missed one paycheck during my time spent unemployed. I could also say I never went a month without a paycheck.

I am well aware of how incredibly fortunate I am. My thoughts are with my friends and relatives who are still out looking.

After posting about the Stones and the music industry, I remembered one of the many quotes from Keith Richards. Keith knows where its at:

Nobody starts off to play an instrument with the idea off making money. You learn the guitar because you have this burning desire.

Even as a senior citizen, Keith Richards kicks ass!