June 2003

Spammers are big fat hairy dirty liars

I keep getting all this spam for pills that promise to make my penis larger. (And, curiously, my balls too. I mean, who ever feels they need bigger balls?)

I know this is a scam. How do I know? Because penile enlargement drugs don’t come in the form of a pill. They come in an ointment that you rub on.


The crossroads.net domain-name registration was about to expire, so on a tip from Prentiss, I transferred the registration from the spooks at Network Solutions to Go Daddy. A stupid name, but for $7.75 instead of $35, I’ll put up with it.

Anything involving domain-name changes is always fraught with the potential for problems, and I was concerned when I saw what appeared to be a glitch in the making, so I called the Go Daddy domain-support line. A human being answered the phone on the first ring. Go back and re-read that sentence, and think about it for a moment. The guy was helpful and gave me relevant information. I’m sold.

Manor back loop

Rode the Manor back loop with DuShun. 34 miles; 17.7 mph average. Not bad–faster than it would have been if I were riding alone. The back section, on a stretch of road where the name changes every three miles, was wonderful–new pavement, few cars, and just enough of a breeze to take the edge off the heat.

I am a cultural imperialist and I’m proud

Nick Denton nails it

Even Western liberals, under a veneer of multicultural modesty, are cultural imperialists at heart. We believe, even if it remains tactfully unspoken, in the global conquest of sexual freedom, rock music, and science fiction. The more sensible liberal pacifism goes along these lines: no point in sending in the Marines, because Hollywood and the internet will do the job so much more effectively

I’ve never been so tactful as to leave it unspoken. Barrage them with Baywatch, bombard them with Sara Lee products, and they’ll come around.

The multi-culti, politically correct crowd might wonder “Isn’t this bad? If people around the world gobbled up Western liberal democracy, wouldn’t that endanger cultural diversity?” I suppose if religious zealotry, communist militancy, etc, are considered valid parts of “cultural diversity,” then yes. But I don’t accept that liberal democracy is somehow inherently “western,” that it forces cultures into some sort of straitjacket, or that the alternatives on offer are preferable.

360 ride

I stopped hitting the reload button in Friendster long enough to go on a good bike ride today. The 360 route northbound. 30 miles, average speed 15-point-something. It’s been too long since I went for a ride, but I felt pretty good and had fun. Traffic on 360 was relatively mild. I noticed a new stoplight had been installed (I can remember when there were none on 360).

One of the many good things about cycling is that it exposes one to so many little blog-worthy tidbits.

At Steck & Mesa, I stopped for a giant soda at the kwik-e-mart there. A Coke delivery man was making his drop-off–an entire pallet-load. Some observations: Lots of Dasani, only one crate of Evian. Bottled Coke and Diet Coke were roughly even, but in cans, there was only Diet (or Diet+Caffeine Free), ie, if you want a regular Coke, you get it in a bottle. There must be some sort of weird demographic phenomenon behind this. Harebrained speculation: Bottles are larger than cans (I think the smallest are 20 oz, vs 12 oz for a can). Larger quantities probably appeal more to guys. Diet Coke probably appeals more to women.

I stopped by Nelo’s shop and ogled a Merlin Cielo, an exercise in technoporn costing about $7400. I don’t dispute that there may be $7400 worth of technology, materials, and craftsmanship in that bike. But the law of diminishing returns must apply to this sucker in spades. My own bike was hardly cheap, but I can’t imagine getting a 2x or 3x advantage riding that thing.

Shortly after leaving Nelo’s, I (barely) heard my phone ringing. It was DuShun, calling to say he had just seen me from his car and congratulated me on getting out to ride.

At the end of my ride, I stopped by Chango’s for one of their excellent burritos. As I was eating, three EMTs stopped by to grab a bite. Two lit up cigarettes. I found this extremely bizarre and funny. I wonder if dealing with life and death crises every day gives them a cynical view of their own mortality.