Amazon EC2

I think I'm in love again.

Amazon Web Services (AWS) is an API that you can use to interface w/a suite of products including the mind-altering EC2 service, which allows you to boot up virtual boxes in the Amazon cloud infrastructure for, all things considered, very reasonable rates. I've just written my first AWS Python script, and I've booted my first EC2 image. It will be my always-on mail server, which will prevent the dilemma I'm in now from ever happening again.

Yes, my ISP is run by incompetents who did not realize that AT&T was going to drop me last night at approximately 2:30am, while I was just wrapping up a change window for work. I'm now without Internet, and they do not expect to have my service back up until tomorrow sometime, maybe. How am I writing this you ask? Well, my friend Tom was kind enough to donate his Cradlepoint to me, so I supplanted my own DSL modem with it, thereby putting me on the Internet via 3G, but since it works on what seem to be frequently changing IP addresses, I can't re-establish my mail server with it, so I had to urgently configure Google Apps as my email service and point my MX records to it, and manually enter in about 4 dozen email aliases. Not an ideal situation, because now my mail is being delivered to Google. It's nice to have some server accepting my mail, but it sucks to have it being stored on a different server than it usually is, because now it's split.

Anyway, check out my new EC2 server. This is a "micro" image. It's the smallest category of image they offer, and will run me about $18/month. The memory footprint is modest, but adequate for the image:

    [ec2-user@pyrocumulus ~]$ cat /proc/meminfo
    MemTotal: 610612 kB
    MemFree: 359064 kB
    Buffers: 6104 kB
    Cached: 205492 kB
    SwapCached: 0 kB
    Active: 88092 kB
    ...
    Committed_AS: 32908 kB

And the CPU provided is ostensibly a Xeon E5430:

    [ec2-user@pyrocumulus ~]$ cat /proc/cpuinfo
    processor : 0
    vendor_id : GenuineIntel
    cpu family : 6
    model : 23
    model name : Intel(R) Xeon(R) CPU E5430 @ 2.66GHz
    stepping : 10
    cpu MHz : 2659.996
    cache size : 6144 KB
    fpu : yes
    fpu_exception : yes
    cpuid level : 13
    wp : yes
    flags : fpu tsc msr pae cx8 cmov pat pse36 clflush dts mmx fxsr sse sse2 ss ht pbe syscall nx lm constant_tsc up arch_perfmon pebs bts rep_good aperfmperf pni dtes64 monitor ds_cpl vmx est tm2 ssse3 cx16 xtpr pdcm dca sse4_1 lahf_lm tpr_shadow vnmi flexpriority
    bogomips : 5319.99
    clflush size : 64
    cache_alignment : 64
    address sizes : 38 bits physical, 48 bits virtual
    power management:

And just look at this little tiny install image! I chose the standard Amazon Linux 64-bit AMI image, which they say is based on CentOS 5, but it has the RHEL 6 kernel:

    [ec2-user@pyrocumulus ~]$ df -k
    Filesystem           1K-blocks      Used Available Use% Mounted on
    /dev/xvda1             8256952    963668   7209400  12% /
    tmpfs                   305304         0    305304   0% /dev/shm
    [ec2-user@pyrocumulus ~]$ uname -a
    Linux pyrocumulus 2.6.34.7-56.40.amzn1.x86_64 #1 SMP Fri Oct 22 18:48:49 UTC 2010 x86_64 x86_64 x86_64 GNU/Linux

And there is a fully-stocked YUM repo handy, so I could immediately install Postfix with exactly what you would expect, "yum install postfix".

I guess it's about time something forced me to take a look at this stuff.

Inclination

Inclination is a dirty word in our coach's circle right now. But I am finally beginning to understand the principle in a way that I can vocalize.

Who here would deny that we learn every time we coach? Who here is the expert? I'm not. I'm constantly trying to understand the turn, the weight shift, the dance with gravity. Who here stands around during practice? No coach stands around. Drew might THINK we're standing around, but we're watching, studying. We're constantly studying the racers. What are they doing?? What are they doing right? What are they doing wrong? What can I say to that child to improve his or her technique?

I'm no expert on inclination either, or really any particular aspect of ski racing, but I can explain what my current understanding of inclination is, and why it makes sense to me.

Gravity is our friend. But it must be tamed. Of course, taming gravity is a ridiculous proposition. Just an illusion, like any control you have in life, the only real control is how you respond to the world. So we control gravity by controlling our responses to it. It pulls us down the hill. It pulls us sideways, it pulls us in vectors relative to our stated direction.

What is the quickest way to get from 1000' to 0'? Free fall, with the lowest drag coefficient possible. Of course, we're required to follow a slope down, and we're required to make turns as we go, but gravity is our engine, and our goal is to be as close to a free fall as possible, while maintaining absolute control of our bodies.

Stacking. What are the five fundamentals of alpine racing?

Basic Skiing (Athletic Stance, Parallel Position)

Pole Plant

Carving Turns and Transitions

Gliding

Jumping and Terrain

What is the most important fundamental? Yes, we pick favorites, and it's Basic Skiing, of course, and the most fundamental element of Basic Skiing is the Athletic Stance. Why?

Why is the athletic stance so important? Because we are perfectly "stacked". Our whole body, all joints, bones, etc., is aligned in a way that maximizes our stability - our CONTROL over gravity - relative to the surface we're resisting gravity against. When we're standing on flat ground, gravity pulls straight down on us, and we therefore have the canonical Athletic Stance. However, when gravity is pulling in a different direction, we must adjust our stance in order to remain stacked. Shown here:

These flagrantly simplified drawings do not take into account movement, of course. While we are moving down the course, we're making turns: initiating turns, performing turns, completing turns, preparing for upcoming turns. These are all simplified drawings of positions that can only be explained in the context of a dynamic, modern turn, but the principle is clearly illustrated.

Gravity pulls our body in vectors relative to our stated position. Gravity is the engine that pulls us down the hill. In order to maximize our control over gravity, we must maximize our stability, and we do that by FINDING the Athletic Stance w/r/t our given position, which may be at an ANGLE or INCLINE relative to the surface we're gliding across.

Dogville

Altruism. Forgiveness. Motives.

Somehow these concepts kept showing up today, whether by choice or coincidence. I woke up this morning on the couch, fully clothed, except for my shoes. I had fallen asleep after three trials of a new (to me) cocktail called Sappho, and a review of season 1 of Archer, which I just got in the mail. There were many dishes to be washed, so I got right to work. And while I was doing that I tuned into a podcast of one of my new favorites, Radiolab. Specifically, I was listening to The Good Show, which explores the question of how to rationalize altruism with Natural Selection.

As is typical for Radiolab, the arguments were illustrated by poignant stories of research related to the question, and tales of altruism so touching I was actually moved to tears. There was a story of a college student who saved a woman who was being mauled by a bull, and another one about a man who pulled three drunk teens from a car engulfed in flames, and another one about a man who saved a stranger who fell into the subway tracks due to a seizure by laying flat on top of him while the train actually passed over!

The other side of hearing these stories is that you naturally must question your own moral composition. The problem with the question is that, as they suggest on the show, the only way you can be sure of the answer is if you've actually been faced with one of these situations.

Later this evening I made some dinner and felt the need to watch something strong. I had bought this Dogville DVD several months ago at a Blockbuster store closing because it was written and directed by one of my favorite directors, Lars von Trier. I guess I had never gotten around to watching it for one reason or another, so tonight seemed as good a time as any...

When we were freshmen, living in the dorms, I remember one night when Damian and I were rambling on, I said wouldn't it be weird if suddenly you could just see everyone without the walls around them? Like, neighborhoods, but the houses just disappear and everyone is just huddled about like they normally would be. We would all look so ridiculous! I remember years later Damian recalled the imagery, so I guess he thought it was an interesting idea. Well I'll be damned if that isn't EXACTLY what von Trier does in Dogville! Ha! So right off the bat I like this film. But it gets SO much better.

While you're watching this film, which at first seems so strange, with the set drawn out in two dimensions on the floor of a stage, and the actors walking about, other characters visible in the distance, you become absorbed in the story and the town, so that you eventually realize that your mind is filling in missing imagery exactly as if you were reading a book! Holy shit! It's amazing! Even now, as I think back about what I saw, it's as if there was so much more, visually, but there wasn't, it was as minimal as possible, but the story draws in your imagination like a book, and only the objects that are actually necessary to tell the story are present, exactly like a George Saunders story. My god it's brilliant.

The story itself turns out to be a very subtly layered tale whose symbolism become more obvious as you get to the end of the story, and the final revelation of that symbolism is so skillfully and tactfull unveiled, you just want to turn around and watch the whole thing over again. It is my new favorite von Trier movie. I want to go back and watch it again, right now, even as late as it is. I want to talk more about it, but I don't want to spoil it in case you haven't seen it yet.

After the movie I finished the frames. The large one is made from that ash wood I recovered. These ones are all bridle joints. They recall Escher's ever-ascending/descending staircase. Each of the four pieces has one end a tenon and the other end a mortise. My house is in desperate need of more pictures, but I refuse to pay money for frames when I can make them myself... but then I never make them, so here are two. They just need to have the outside edges trued up with a plane, have the groove rabbeted in the back, and be varnished... OK, I guess I'm actually about half done.

A lyric

"Love, it will not betray you, dismay or enslave you, it will set you free to be more like the man you were made to be." - Mumford & Sons (Sigh No More)

I am utterly bewildered that a man of only 21 years could consider love with such maturity. That's about how old Marcus Mumford was when Mumford & Sons recorded Sigh No More. I'm assuming he wrote it. I'm just amazed at his perspective.

Of course, it's not the most graceful sentence, and I believe he is referring more specifically to a love of God, not a woman. Most of his songs have a strong Christian message, but if you listen carefully, those messages are often simply lessons in faith, not flagrant evangelization, and I believe those messages describe characteristics that I've seen in truly great men. So, for me, the love he speaks of in this song is any kind of love. He's speaking to the hesitancy or even fear that we feel when we deal with commitment and devotion.

I think one of the biggest dilemmas we must deal with in a post-religious, heterarchical age is how to retain and cultivate the advantages of religion. There are very strong, distinct benefits that come from having faith, and history has shown that people with strong faith are able to overcome devastating challenges where people who are not imbued with such faith cannot.

I just remembered a dream I had in college, and it might explain some of this. I was a boy back in summer camp. We were in the main building eating dinner, and every kid was seated at one of many banquet tables, digging into mashed potatoes and whatever else. The echoes of a hundred boys' and girls' voices bounced off of the shiny concrete floor. I looked up and saw two boys seated with their heads down, quietly saying grace. They were brothers and I didn't know them, but they looked a bit larger than everyone else and more neatly dressed. They even looked majestic there, although they made no effort to attract attention to themselves. Their presence was just that strong. I was astonished by their unashamed devotion, and I wanted to be just like them.

See, everyone at those tables knew that you should say grace before you start eating, but nobody wanted to be so uncool as to say grace when there were no adults around to mandate it. But those two strangers didn't look uncool at all. Instead they projected quality and strength. They were simply doing this thing because it was right.

That dream doesn't actually relate directly to the faith thing, but I'm talking about the kind of character I think could get lost in a post-religious society. Of course, it won't, as long as we don't let it. Maybe I'm just talking about myself.

On the other hand, just to reassure you that I am still me, despite this unprecedented public reflection on love and faith, I can't stand people who talk about their faith or put it on display or try to get others to be more like them or relate to their god the way they relate to it. It's shallow, vulgar, ugly, vain, and divisive.

At the risk of becoming backwards-looking

What is the word for backwards-looking?

I love how the word brûler means to burn, and in the aforementioned Jacques Brel song, Ne Me Quitte Pas, he uses the phrase "des terres brûlées". French poetry in the time of end rhyme must've been really something. I need to learn more.

These lyrics...

Et quand vient le soir

Pour qu'un ciel flamboie

Le rouge et le noir

Ne s'épousent-ils pas!?

And there was much walking.

That weird b.o. & colored pencil shavings smell is trapped in the Pompadou, just like in the Getty. It was right in the entrance in the Getty, but in the Pompadou it's at the entrance to Gallery 1. Blegh.

After about four hours of walking, the iconic red-flecked exoskeleton of the Centre Georges Pompidou finally peeked around the corner! I could spend all week here! And I just might.

I was ecstatic to discover that one of the two current exhibitions is a combo Piet Mondrian/De Stijl show! I bought my ticket and headed straight to the Gallery, obliviously skipping over the largest modern art museum in Europe, right through that weird b.o./pencil smell and into the exhibition.

Holy crap! I didn't even get through the first room, of like 20, and all these ideas and revelations came busting into my head! I had to walk straight through the rest of the show and back down to the bookstore to buy a pen and pad.

I started writing them down here, but really it's like several pages, and there's a sketch of a frame, and I can't cherry-pick them. Maybe some other time.

Anyway, I stayed there for a couple hours then took the subway to an area foretold to have great bistros. It was about 6pm when I learned that most restaurants in Paris don't open for business until 7, so I had to wander utterly aimlessly around the 6th district for an hour.

I need to sleep now, but here's the rest... Sticking to my "platte du jour" strategy, I had a foie gras appetizer and blanquette de veau for the main course. I think the wine was a Côtes du Rhône.

I hope I can walk tomorrow.

Paris: Premier Jour

Aujourd'hui, nous avons dimanche.

Most places were closed, mais pas de la Tour Eiffel. J'ai dormi dans l'avion, alors que j'avais faim. So, j'ai d'abord pris le déjeuner, puis je suis allé à la Tour Eiffel.


My delightful concierge, Frederique, recommended little Italian place around the corner for lunch, and as instructed by my friend Holdly, I did order the Platte du Jour, and it was Boeuf Bourguignon served with bread and a side of green beens. Everything was delicious, including the green beans, which were sautéed in garlic butter. The Boeuf Bourguignon was actually a bit too salty, and reminded me of a salty version my own Beef Daube, although it was missing some of the more floral notes I use, namely ginger and lavendar. Still, it was very good, and filling.

Just around the corner was the Eiffel Tower, which on first approach, I realized that, having stupidly left my ATM card in my printer at home when I was making photo copies of all my valuables, I was without cash. And of course, when I got to the front of the line, the lady said she would not sell me one ticket on credit. Even though they're 5 Euros a piece., so back to the hotel I went, and actually that's when I ate, then I grabbed what little cash I had and had it converted by the rapeman behind the exchange counter. He transformed $25 into 14 euros, but that was enough.

The tower was beautiful and cold, and there were people from all over constantly taking pictures of it. The line to use the tram was ridiculous so I went to the really short line where you can just take the steps. I climbed up to the second level, as far as I could go. You need to buy another ticket to go to the very top.

Then walked across the Seine and bought a chocolate and banana crepe and a small coffee, then walked about the Trocadero eyeing people's wears (and wares), and finally stopping to listen to a small choir singing hymns and Chirstmas songs in French, German, and English.

After that I went back home and passed out about 7pm. Woke up at 12am, thinking it would be much later. Took a sleeping pill, and I'm still up. Tomorrow I need to get to a bank. I found an American Express office at 11 Rue Scribe, which is in Arrondissement 1. After that I'm taking a recommendation on Lunch, and then going to Le Marais, a neighborhood that has the Pompadou Centre, Notre Dame, and lots of exciting boutiques.

Oh yeah, and I almost forgot to tell you about bit of... not sure what to think of this, but you can actually order a hotdog at the Eiffel Tower's concessions stand. Yes, a hotdog. The picture of it on the menu shows it being served on a French Baguette, but still. It's a fucking hotdog! I'm so relieved to know that American Cuisine has found its way into the French capital with such sophistication et de charme!

I'll leave you with a picture taken from La Tour Eiffel facing south, along the Seine, and, if you know where to look, my little Hotel Eiffel Seine, just out of view around the corner from La Maison de la culture du Japon à Paris, which is that glass building just over the left shoulder of that curved building in the middle of the photo.

Black Swan

I really can't wait for this movie to come out, but here's the rub... Chances are it's not yet showing in your town, and it's definitely not in my town, BUT it was released in 8 American cities Dec. 3rd, and it WILL be released in two more cities on Dec. 10th... AND WE'RE ONE OF THEM! Oh yeah, the rub? Well, I'm leaving town on Saturday, but I think I might still be able to squeeze in a movie Friday night IF I can get tickets. It's only showing in one theater that I know of so far, and it's the rich people's theater. I mean it's in the rich mall w/the Saks Fifth Avenue and the Sur La Table, which, what a stupid name for a cookware store, and let me tell you they have a $300 omelette pan, but whatever, etc. (yawn).

I heard an interview with Darren Aronofsky on the radio last week and he said that while studying the story behind swan lake, it occurred to him that this is a story about a... wereswan! There! Excuse me? There swan, there castle. Why are you talking like that? I don't know I thought you wanted to. Suit yourself!

Can you tell I'm a little jacked up about this fil'm? I mean Requiem for a Dream is one of my favorite pictures of all time (yes, I've probably watched it a dozen times at least), and here comes this incredibly beautiful, dark, dramatic new work from Aronofsky that just happens to star the woman I'm going to someday marry, and then to top it all off they release these incredible promo posters.

Feast your famished eyes!

Uhguh!

I know, I want them to be bigger images too, so they like completely envelope you, but this blog sucks, so deal w/it.

Ne me quitte pas

Don't quit me! Don't quit me.

Je creuserai la terre jusqu'après ma mort
pour couvrir ton corps d'or et de lumière.

I'd scour the earth unto my death

to cover your body in gold and light.

The words are so intense, and Jacques Brel sings them with such complete devotion, the result is really a masterpiece.

The full lyrics here: http://frmusique.ru/texts/b/brel_jacques/nemequittepas.htm

It took me a long time to translate that first line ("I'd scour the earth unto my death") because the translations I found online didn't work for me. I think the words "scour" and "unto" are key.

I also think "don't quit me" or "don't give up on me" works best for "ne me quitte pas," although most translations seem to prefer either "don't leave me," or "don't go away," or something like that. I think that the obvious fact that "quit" is linguistically tied to the word "quitte", and works just fine in colloquial English, should be observed. (Not sure that it's even all that colloquial.)

This page explains the complexity of translating the phrase "jusqu'après" into English. There is a problem with translating between concepts of time here.

Overall This is the best complete translation I've found, and it does use multiple translations for "ne me quitte pas".

It's true that I was introduced to this song 16 years ago by Nina Simone on Verve Jazz Masters 17, but this version has become my favorite.

Attractive American

2 oz. Applejack
3/4 oz. Campari
1/4 oz. Crème de Violette

Pour over ice, stir well, strain into a cocktail glass.

Applejack is one of the earliest American distillates. It dates back to the late 17th century, predating Bourbon. It's apple brandy, although the 100% apple brandy version is only sold in small quantities. The type I am using is a blend of 35% brandy and 65% neutral spirit (vodka). Today it's sold by the only remaining distiller, Laird's. It's a superb and inexpensive spirit that you should definitely have on your shelf. It can be substituted into many recipes for whiskey, adding an interesting dynamic to old favorites like the Manhattan.

Crème de Violette was until recently considered to be a dead ingredient. It is now sold at many good liquor stores, and one bottle will probably last you a decade or two... or three. A little bit goes a long way and there's not a lot of recipes that call for it, although it is a divine spirit.

I garnished this with a lemon twist, spraying the oils onto the surface of the drink, but I'm not sure it really needs that. The bright yellow provides a nice contrast to the dark, wine colored drink, but spraying the oils should probably be avoided because the drink works perfectly as is, although it's also good... hm.

Gibberish

I've been up since about 9:30 yesterday working, and yesterday I woke up so late because I had been up until 4 that morning, and so it's been all week. I was just writing the description field for an RPM spec file and drifted off... I snapped to and found this dream-induced flotsam floating in the field:

"This is the base install for APM IEM port configuration. It is composed primarily of canisters of food. They contain living headlamps!"

I was dreaming that I was part of some peaceful, itinerant alien civilization.

Gloria

Gloria. Laura Branigan. Is there any song that captures the loss of innocence in America quite like Gloria? You may think it happened long before that, like after the Cuban Missle Crisis, or after WWII, or after WWI, or after the dark ages (how old are you?), but I submit that there was a certain self awareness missing from life before mass communication really exploded, and we can probably blame that mostly on the Internet, both a blessing and a curse, and the 80s were the last decade to show people unaware of the camera on them. Even those who were on the stage of the world were not truly on the stage of the world like we are today. They would never move like that, never talk like that. It's quaint. Pre-papparazi, pre-post-mtv.

Laura Branigan looks like a prototypical Irish-American woman too, so that probably helps enforce my sentimentality. I have a huge crush on her. It's silly.

So the analogy... Gloria. You are the innocence we lost. In the new world, there's just no room for you anymore. You're the movie where we all identify who we are. You're the thought that we're all unique. You're the assumption of difference. You're the assumption of stereotypes before we started analyzing them. You're everything before we analyzed the shit out of everything and then pushed it out the back door. You got pushed out too. We know everything about everyone now. You're just too simple, too unaware of the world around you, but that is why you were special. Now you only exist in children before the age of like 10... and that age continues to recede. I guess you also exist in religious fanatics. You'll soon be pushed out of even children, if you haven't already been.



If everybody wants you, why isn't anybody calling?

Because even though you're desireable in a sentimental kind of way, nobody wants to be that oblivious.

It may cause a little wistfulness, but not so much that I don't want everyone else in the world, and I'm talking to you, you poor ignoramouses who still live in a feckless cloud of self-importance, to be aware of how small and ridiculous they are. It may be difficult to deal with but we all dealt with it, the self-examination, and I think we're all that much closer to accepting everyone for whoever they are as a result of it.

And I believe some have pushed beyond it to another bad place. Some are aware of the whole world, but still refuse to accept its homogeniety. Like Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin, Sean Hannity... etc. How could you be a demagogue if you respect your audience? The answer is you can't be. If you sling zenophobia for a living, you do not respect your audience. You consider them to be a bunch of idiots who can't see the world as a place where human beings exist. You erect fences in the most primitive way. You drag your knuckles and beat your chest. You yell loud on TV - good! TV yell good! Lots of people beat chest, sneer at neighbor. Me win money, still world turn.

Have these drinks... on me... I'll pay when I get there.

Elizabeth's Highball
On broken ice...
3-4 shakes Fee's rhubarb bitters
Fresh lemon juice
2 oz Square One Botanical
1/4 oz (a dash) of Luxardo Maraschino
Fill with seltzer
Stir well

Garnish with a lemon peel first heated w/a lighter to bring out the oils, and then wiped around the rim

Serve in a tall, slender glass.

Didn't try some fresh mint in there, but it would look nice... might taste good too.


The Asshole
On broken ice
3-4 oz Plymouth Gin (the smooth gin)
1/2 oz Chartreuse (green)
3 shakes Fee's rhubarb bitters
Splash of absinthe
bit of simple syrup
fill w/seltzer or just plain water
stir well

"Were you boooooooorn an asshole, or did you work at it yer whole life? Either way it worked out fine, 'cause yer an assssssshooooole tonight."

A few dashes of Regan's Orange Bitters do fine w/this mix. Looks like Mountain Dew.

Thoughts on Socialization

This is just a braindump of questions and hypotheses that have probably already been examined...

Do animals that are more independent when they are young (i.e. less dependent on others) become less social as they age? Are animals that are more dependent in youth remain social in life? Where does a need for society come from? The need for social interaction drives civil behavior, which needs to be a part of any AI participating successfully w/the human race.

Capabilities: A being who is dependent on others to succeed must learn how to interact with civility. A being who is underequipped to deal may develop feelings of hostility from inadequacy (Adam and Eve). A being overequipped may become hostile from arrogance. Are all human beings restricted to this region of capability, or do the least capable and most capable of us possess feelings of hostility that are caused by that condition?

Would an independent AI that developed far beyond human capabilities retain its empathy for mankind if it evolved as mankind does, as a completely dependent being (a baby) into a mature, independent being? Humans remain dependent on society throughout life to survive, but could conditions intersect that would enable an AI to become completely independent from society?

An independent source of energy. Ability to self-replicate. ...

Facing Heaven Peppers

In my journey into the world of Szechuan cuisine, there is one ingredient that I have until now been unable to find, and is absolutely essential for producing the Real Deal, and that is... The Facing Heaven Pepper.

I've wandered through dozens of Asian and international food stores in St. Louis and Los Angeles, calling "Nǐ yǒu cháo tiān jiāo ma?" and I've scoured the web for leads, but the one thing that finally came through for me was to phone a friend. Or actually send the friend a Facebook message (I mean using the phone to talk is so passé...), and that friend lives in Toronto, Ontario, a multicultural mecca for North America. Seriously, if you've never been there? In some parts of town, Toronto actually has street signs with Mandarin translations. Plus I had the best Szechuan food outside of China there, and actually it may have even been slightly better than the stuff I had in China, so if any town would have them, Toronto would have them. And now, without further ado...

I give you the Facing Heaven Pepper:

Note the Chinese characters on the bottom right corner: 朝天椒. Recognizing those characters is the only way you would know that this is the right chili, unless you could identify them visually.

The beauty of this pepper is that it gives its unique flavor and heat over to the dish, and then just goes to the background, providing exactly the right amount of heat to complement the NUMBING sensation of the Szechuan peppercorns. The overall effect is addictive. ADDICTIVE I TELL YOU!

Even as I write this I am germinating some of the seeds to see if I can grow this beauty in my backyard. Can you even germinate seeds from dried chilies? I shall soon find out...

I think we should start stalking other people (you don't stalk me like you used to)

I want to hurt you because i love you.

If i want to eat your arm, it's because i love you.

You make me want to puke

and kiss your sweet face.

New drink: 21st Century

Equal parts Square One Botanical and Lillet. Add about 3-4 dashes of Angostura bitters.

This is possibly a bit TOO smooth. Goes down like water. I recommend the following modifier:

Healthy dose of green Chartreuse, and all of its "130 Alpine herbs".

I haven't tried it yet, because I don't have any Chartreuse, but I have a feeling it's right on the money.

New favorite drink: Botanical Cocktail

About two weeks ago I received my copy of Gaz Regan's new book, The Bartender's Gin Compendium. I've been on a huge gin kick ever since my friend Adam introduced me to the Martinez. In the early pages of the book, Mr. Regan describes a drink common to the latter half of the 1800s called the Gin Cocktail. He sketches out a recipe of gin, simple syrup, bitters, and "perhaps a little curaçao or or absinthe." Sounds good!

So, a few days ago I was browsing through the gin section at my local Wine and Spirits retailer, and I saw this thing I had never seen before called Square One Botanical.

From their website:

"Square One Botanical is a bold organic rye spirit, infused with a striking blend of 8 organic botanicals - pear, rose, chamomile, lemon verbena, lavender, rosemary, coriander and citrus peel. This enticing composition of organic fruit, floral and herbs creates a captivating fragrance and offers a seductive taste experience in cocktails."

They say that Botanical is not vodka. Because of its complex infusion, it is essentially a gin, but without the juniper. Gin is defined by its juniper flavor. In fact the word gin is actually a corruption of the British slang word gen, which is short for genever, which is the Dutch word for juniper. Genever was once a style of gin (now beginning to make a comeback) that had a very malty, almost whiskey-like palate, unlike today's highly refined gins. It is also the earliest known style of gin to become popular.

Anyway, not to bore you w/the details (although I do recommend that book), but this new spirit by Square One is distilled identically to gin, but w/out the juniper, which some are saying is a revolutionary idea, and possibly a completely new type of spirit. I'm actually pretty excited about it. So... on w/the cocktail:

Botanical Cocktail
2 oz Square One Botanical
1/2 oz simple syrup
1/2 oz absinthe (been using Pernod)
3-4 dashes of bitters (been using Angostura)

Stir well in broken ice and strain into cocktail glass. Amazing!

Notes for ripping your own logs with minimal setup

If you're like me you have a very small workshop and therefore must be extremely discriminate about what large tools you fill it with. I have finally developed a fairly reliable process for ripping logs found in neighbors' yards after they fell a tree for whatever reason using only one major power tool: the bandsaw.

You need:

14" bandsaw w/6" riser block (Or bigger. I use a Powermatic PWBS-14CS.)

Wood Slicer resaw blade (The biggest one that will fit on your bandsaw. I use 3/4".)

14" chainsaw (Or bigger)

Scrub plane

Jack plane

Jointer plane

1. Square up the log as well as possible w/the chainsaw. Be very careful to get the surfaces as flat as you can manage, which is not easy w/a chainsaw. I set the logs on end on a sort of makeshift platform so I can cut all the way to the bottom w/out hitting concrete. Another key element here is to nail a scrap piece of wood to the bottom of the log like an arm, and then lay a bag of dirt, or some kind of dead weight, on the arm. This will keep the log from turning as you saw through w/the chainsaw, which creates a tremendous amount of torque.
2. Once you get the kind-of squared up log into the shop, use the planes to flatten the flattest side of the log to the point where it will sit stably on the bandsaw's deck while you push it through.
3. Tune your bandsaw to use the Wood Slicer, which is the most awesome bandsaw blade ever created. If properly tuned, it will cut through like butter. I mean really take your time here or you will be extremely pissed when your blade drifts diagonally into your log. Set the tension high and make sure you have enough clearance. Oil the bearings, whatever you need to do to make that bandsaw cut straight.
4. Place the log flat side down on the bandsaw deck and rip as straight a line as you can. Repeat this process until you have four flat sides
5. Now rip your well-squared log into rough boards.
6. Dimension the boards w/your planes.

You might not need to do the whole chainsaw bit if you can come up w/some great log jig for your bandsaw. I haven't figured one out yet.

This may all sound easy, but it is extremely time consuming to flatten the faces, and the bandsaw ork requires a very good understanding of the bandsaw. Read up everything you can on compensating for drift and properly tuning the bandsaw or you will just waste a lot of potentially great wood.

Ripping found logs is fun, because it's usually really old growth hardwood, which can be ridiculously expensive to purchase, but one problem I keep running into is that the tree was usually cut down due to some kind of insect invasion. You might have to throw away several boards due to bore holes, but there will be some gems in there too.

Ahh, that legendary pugnacity!

From the Online Etymology Dictionary:

Irish

c.1200, Irisce, from stem of O.E. Iras "inhabitant of Ireland," from O.N. irar, ult. from O.Ir. Eriu (acc. Eirinn, Erinn) "Erin," which is from O.Celt. *Iveriu (acc. *Iverionem, abl. *Iverione), perhaps meaning "good land." Meaning "temper, passion" is 1834, Amer.Eng. (first attested in writings of Davy Crockett), from the legendary pugnacity of Irish people. Irish-American is from 1832; Irish coffee is from 1950. Wild Irish (1399) originally were those not under English rule; Black Irish in ref. to those of Mediterranean appearance is from 1888.

Aye, 'tis both a gift and a gallows.