khaosx.com

Specifically, my cat pisses me off.

This is comfortable cat position number 3. It’s the one where the cat stops walking and falls down into what looks like an insanely comfortable position.

Lots of people hate cats. I don’t hate them per se, I’m just really annoyed that no matter what position a cat is in, it’s the most comfortable position imaginable. Oh yeah, and the stretching thing – no human can possibly have as satisfying a stretch as a cat.

Newegg did their usual good job getting the case to me on time and in good condition. From there on, my experience turned to worms.

First impression after opening the box: This thing is cheesy. Cheap. Flimsy. Poor cover-to-chassis fit. No manual. More sharp edges than Hannibal Lector’s knife drawer. Prudence requires that one wear welder’s gloves to be in the same ZIP Code as this beast.

The finish is what I’d expect from a very bored 8th Grader with a slab of tin and a can of cheap spray paint. Still, I figured that I’d at least peek inside before getting an RMA. Whew! The factory guy that put this monstrosity together must have had a two horsepower screwdriver to hog the case fasteners into place. It took me about that much effort to get ‘em out.

Do I expect more for eighty bucks? You bet I do. The fit and finish standards adhered to by, just to name a couple of chassis manufacturers, Antec and Thermaltake are not that difficult to attain.

I had planned on building two of these toasters for a client who has an upscale interior decorating firm. His standards, like mine (and, I suspect, yours), are as they should be; high. Uncompromising. I had this box out of the shipping carton for a good two minutes, 90 seconds of which were debating with myself whether or not I could peddle it. Answer: No and still be able to maintain a reputation for quality work. Even with all the Kiwi in the world, you can’t put a spit shine on a cow flop.

Final word: it’s too flimsy to be a good door stop, too poorly finished to be kept in plain sight, and too many sharp edges/corners to have it sitting where little kids might be tempted to touch it. Add to that, other reviewers comments about the cooling, power supply, and general agreement that it’s as strong as tissue paper and your decision should be an easy one to make.

I’m kicking myself for having bought it. I’m supposed to know better. I hope that my loss is your gain.

No, really. It makes me laugh. It made my friend (who IS a ninja) laugh even more!

Note: This is a creative telling of the time I almost drove JStagg’s Celica into the Occonee river. This story is true. Friends, don’t let friends drive tired.

The Occonnee River Saga
(to the tune of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald)

(Reprinted with kind permission from J. Stagg.)

The legend lives on from the Perimeter on down
To the big riv’r called the Occonnee.
A Celica so blue with a tired crew of two
Makin’ tracks for old towne Savannah.

The fog was so thick that Kris couldn’t see a lick
Particular the edge of the roadway.
Jim was asleep in the passenger seat
Unaware that fate was a knockin’.

At 4:00 am, Jim woke and said,
“Kris, what was that horrible thumping?”
Kris said “Not now. We have many miles to go.
Later, I’ll tell you ’bout the river.”

Jim said, “Okay,” and returned to his haze
Where he had been quietly sleeping.
At 4:01 am, it occurred to Jim
That something really bad had almost happen’d.

So he awoke and said “Tell me what broke
Or what did you do to my car?”
A cunning evader, Kris just mumbled “Later.”
And stared intently at th’ roadway.

Jim said “No way. Tell me, okay?”
I swear I won’t do you no damage.”
Kris said “it’s like this. We almost fell in the drink.
I had a small nap at the wheel.”

“I felt a bad rumbling, no, more of a jarring
And that awoke me from slumber.
As I opened my eyes, a terrible sight.
A sign saying ‘Occonnee River’.”

“I realized just then ‘We’re on the median’,
And swerved back just before the bridge start’d.
Disaster avert’d. ‘Holy shit,’ I blurted
And realized our close brush with heaven.”

Jim sat in his seat, quietly mused the feat
That had almost put them in the river.
He turned to Kris, said “I can’t be pissed.
At least you didn’t dent my car.”

… I’ve ever read in a techinical forum.

"Wow, I didn’t realize DeVry had a short bus."

Q. So, why don’t you put more graphic content or nifty animation on your site? Do you, to put it mildly, suck like an Electrolux as a web designer?

A. No.

As a matter of fact, I am a pretty damn good web designer. I learned layout and design the hard way – working at a newspaper. I am knowledgeable in the use of colors, fonts, spacing, and proportion. I even understand that white space is my friend.

I understand marketing and advertising, and all the tricks that can be used to get a message across visually. I am conversant in most web technologies, and if I don’t know how to do it, you can bet your sweet bippy that I can learn it from a manual in five days or less.

I am also highly creative. In short, I can build a graphic-intensive, bleeding-edge-technology website that will stun, amaze, and possibly send you into convulsive spasms of joy. It would be beautiful and terrifying to behold.

And I used to build those monsters regularly.

Don’t get me wrong. I respect the hell out of people like Eric Hunsperger (shameless plug for a buddy). His design has always been innovative, and downright beautiful. And he manages to pull that off in spite of people who just don’t get it. Seriously, if you need a web presence for your company, he’s your guy. And I also understand that sometimes you have to bludgeon people with technology to prove that you know technology. As a business, it’s difficult to stand out in a forest where every tree looks just like you without blowing some visual trumpets. But…

I started having an ongoing debate with Jim Stagg. One of many ongoing debates with Jim Stagg. Our debates usually go something like this:

J – No really, you should give X a try. It’s pretty cool.
K – I don’t know. I’m pretty comfortable doing this task like this.
J – Yeah, but you could do it better this way.
K – I don’t know. I’m pretty comfortable doing this task like this.
J – C’mon. You know you want to do this.
K – I don’t know. I’m pretty comfortable doing this task like this.
J – Ok, fine. I’ll sit right here and show you how freakin’ cool this is.
K – I don’t know. I’m pretty comfortable doing this task like this.
J – See, this little button does this.
K – Hey. I could build a mega-bad-ass coffee maker with this.
J – Woah, cheetah. I’m just trying to show you how to use a pencil instead of chiseling in slate.
K – But…

And it goes on from there. Someday, I’m going to catch Jim while he’s wrong about something, and I’m going to ridicule him mercilessly for about a decade..

The debate of the moment was on the positive benefits of a minimalist approach to web design. Jim is a firm believer in the less-flash, more-usability school of thought. We had the usual rounds of sparring, and out of that conversation came what I am going to call Newman’s Law™.

Newman’s Law™ states: The quicker someone can get the information they need, the quicker they can get on with utilizing that information. The quicker they can get on with utilizing that information, the more comfortable they’re going to be. And the more comfortable they are, the more likely they are to use you to fulfill their information jones.

How does this rule apply to a personal web site? Well, it actually applies to everything except sex. Shopping in a grocery store, using software, calling your Mom for advice.

And in my case, a personal web site. You see, I really do build this site for other people to come and visit. It gives me a charge to know that people view my site, even if it’s just a few close friends. My web sites are just that – MY web sites. I’m not trying to sell you something. I don’t need to grab your attention with Shockwave and hold you captive while a full orchestra plays background music on a 56k stream.

My sites are content driven, and actually have something to say. If you’re at my site, I want you to read what I’ve written. And you’re more likely to do that if you can get to it quickly, and then be on your way. If I can get you here, and then have you reading something in two seconds on a slow modem, then I’ve done my job correctly.

Hey, I don’t think you should shun all graphic content. Sometimes a picture really IS worth a thousand words of copy. Sometimes, you can do more with less. It’s a tradeoff. I think the best approach is to understand your content, AND your audience. Once you understand those, using X to build for Y becomes a simple equation. It’s a damn shame I don’t use that approach in writing these essays…

For more information on usability, please visit http://www.usit.com.

That’s what I want to know from you. Yes, you. The idiot in the Chevy Suburban that I was following this morning. Don’t you understand the fundamentals of driving in an urban environment?

For those of you who don’t let me provide my own little top ten list. From the home office in Sugar Hill, Ga.

Newman’s Top 10 List of Things that will make you a better driver

1. Since you obviously can’t do more than one thing at a time, hang up your damn cell phone and drive your car.
2. When you are driving 5 miles under the speed limit in rush hour on a two lane road, and the roads turns into a four lane, GET IN THE RIGHT-HAND LANE. You are slow. You are impeding my progress, as well as the 50 cars lined up behind me waiting on your slow ass.
3. If you see a large green SUV coming at you at high speed, I encourage you to try to make that turn in your Yugo. This won’t make you a better driver, but it will take you out of the gene pool.
4. Suburban house wives take note: The fact that hubby can afford a land mass with wheels doesn’t mean that you can drive one. If you’re a crappy driver in a Honda Civic, you’re only going to imperil other drivers when you get behind the wheel of a truly destructive machine.
5. Pay attention to the traffic light. When it turns green, you’d better be moving.
6. No, really. I can see you picking your nose. (It doesn’t have anything to do with your driving ability, but it does make you look stupid.)
7. Hey! You idiot kid! Stop trying to race me in your Geo Metro, and start learning how to drive. Turn the radio down too. Your music sucks to everyone but you.
8. Understand that if it were not for nimrods like you, there would be no traffic.
9. Rubbernecking an accident makes traffic go slower. If you’d just understand that, your life would improve ten-fold.
10. Understand that I probably drive better then you. Get out of my way, and try not to be surprised when I cut you off or go around you. It’s because you are stupid.

Now, having said that, I have to harken back to the wise words of…well, of someone.

"The one thing that all human beings share, without regard to class, race, or religion, is that we each think we’re better drivers than we actually are."

I think I am an exceptional driver. At high speeds or tricky manuevers, I’m convinced that I’m the love child of James Bond and Mario Andretti. My father, who IS an exceptional driver, is convinced that I cannot drive anything more complicated than a tricycle. The truth probably falls somewhere in the middle, which makes me an above-average driver.

So I feel qualified to point out your shortcomings. I’m not talking to everyone here, just the idiots. And you know who you are. You drive 45 in a 50 zone. You drive in the left-hand land on the interstate at less than 75 miles an hour. You back into parking spaces, and straddle the line in the attempt. You know who you are.

And you’ve got to stop it. Really. Like now.