Well, looky what I got today
And I’m pretty sure Uncle B gave it to me, too.
No, no…penicillin won’t be required — it’s a counterfeit £1 coin. The one on the left; there’s no writing along the edge. I was about to pass it to a shopkeeper when I noticed.
The pound coin has been counterfeited pretty much from the get-go. A pound is worth a buck sixty or so at the moment, so I guess the economics work out for somebody.
Upwards of one in thirty-six pound coins is a fake, despite banks and post offices pouring incoming coins through automated systems that detect fakes by weight. So somebody’s seriously pumping bad coin into the system.
Tips for detecting fakes are hilariously impractical: make sure the date on the front matches up with the design on the back, the two are properly aligned and the motto around the edge is correct for that year. Like I’m going to glance at my handful of change and exclaim, “my god, it’s got a Scottish Lion on the back, but the motto around the edge is ‘DECUS ET TUTAMEN +’ instead of ‘NEMO ME IMPUNE LACESSIT +’! Plus, the date is 1998! And the Queen’s head is rotated 20° relative to the design on the back! BAH! Obvious forgery!”
Well, actually, these are Brits we’re talking. Maybe not so impractical. The geek gene runs powerfully through these people.
Mine is a weird one. The design on the back is correct for the date on the front and the two sides are in correct alignment, but the forger hasn’t attempted the edge motto at all. Also, the casting is a little soft and the color is a little brown. But, honestly, if they’d made ANY attempt at the motto, I would never have noticed.
It’s a crime to pass a counterfeit along once you’ve noticed; I’m supposed to get it to the Royal Mint somehow. So I’m out a buck sixty.
July 20, 2011 — 9:25 pm
Comments: 19
Fortress of Banjitude
Welcome to the Inner Sanctum.
What? Lots of people play in the bog. The acoustics are excellent, and we have this a little loo at the back of the house where I can bang away unheard. Bonus: built in seat!
Left to right, that’s a little practice banjo Uncle B bought me for my birthday one year, when I was stuck over here banjoless and my banjo finger began to itch. It’s made of particle-board or something similar, but it’s great fun. Short neck, low action, soft sound, light and tote-able, will take a bit of rough trade.
Next over is a Hayne’s Bay State banjo, circa 1890. Sweet little instrument from the era of parlor banjo (from Boston, would you believe!). It would have been played in the classical finger style, or possibly minstrel style. I replaced the calfskin head and put new strings on it yesterday. Nylgut is a new material that is supposed to mimic the sound of gut strings better than plain old nylon. This banjo would have been strung with gut initially. How does it sound? Like thumping a bag of wet mice with a tiny rubber hammer.
Next over is a British zither banjo, also circa 1890. Well, of course I bought one. Took me forever to take it apart, clean it and put it back together again. All those fiddly bits. I splashed out and bought a set of historically accurate strings for this one: steel, steel, real gut, wound on polymer, steel.
This one would definitely have been played classical style. It has a lovely mellow sound and is a treat to play. The head could use tightening, but I don’t fancy messing around with the brackets again any time soon. I’ve had to replace a few bits already, and some of these wouldn’t be easily replaceable.
And finally, my proper bluegrass banjo. A 1980s Epiphone. It’s a decent banjo pretending to be a fantastic one — solidly built, highly playable, but all gussied up with fake abalone inlay and shit. It was my first banjo and I knew it was a tart when I bought it, but I was desperate for a decent instrument to learn on. I’d driven all over Nashville looking for something suitable and, last stop out of town, I found this ugly pig at 70% off.
How does it sound? Uncle B describes it as two dustbin lids banging together. Yeah, it’s loud. And tinny. And it’s developing a bit of fret buzz. And the sound in a tiled bathroom is indescribable. I love this nasty boy.
Sooo….am I any good? No. No, I’m not. When I reached my teens and a serious musical plateau (on guitar), I realized I was never going to be Joni Mitchell. At that point, I stopped taking any of this shit seriously. Eh. I’m a happy noodler.
But you don’t have to be a serious musician to get the instrument bug.
July 19, 2011 — 10:27 pm
Comments: 28
Anybody want to buy some rat meat?
You reckon Patrick Stewart is ever sorry he took that Star Trek gig? He’s done the voiceover for about half the games I’ve bought in the last ten years, including Emperor Apple Doll here.
Not knocking Oblivion, which is five or six years old. Even the latest and greatest games, they still haven’t got people quite down yet, especially faces. Dead Space 2 that I’ve been raving and drooling about is good in some scenes (the back of Isaac’s head looks spectacularly real) and creepy in others. I mean, unintentionally creepy (the intentionally creepy faces are excellent).
For the just-released L.A. Noire, they famously strapped real actors into chairs and made them act for some computerized facial scanning doohicky that reproduced the expressions later on game characters. Being able to perceive a liar is apparently important to the gameplay. Yet in all the trailers I’ve seen, the faces look ultra creepy.
I’m a great believer in the Uncanny Valley. Things that look alllllmost but not quite human are guaranteed to give people the jim-jamms. We’re wired to read changes in facial expression that can be measured in millimeters. It’s going to be a while before modeling programs get that good.
Though it would help if 3D modelers would stop making teeth and eyeballs self-illuminate.
July 18, 2011 — 11:35 pm
Comments: 18
Nice one
I dunno, this just popped into my head.
Per the article I linked yesterday, Obama supposedly warned Cantor “don’t call my bluff.” I’m sure he meant to say “don’t think I’m bluffing” because the Smartest President EVAR surely knows that the absolute crucial element of a successful bluff is to convince everyone around the table you totally, totally ARE NOT bluffing.
Right?
Good weekend, all!
p.s. I’ve just finished my third round through Dead Space 2 (loved it!). Help me choose my next computer game (platform: PC). I want something that’s been out for a while (no monies), something immersive and visually stunning. I choose things getting killed over puzzles; spooky games over pretty ones. Hate side-scrollers, love first person shooters. But I’ll adore anything that’s a pleasure to look at.
Despite the high ratings, I thought Amnesia looked stupid (if I get bored in the middle of your trailer, you’re doing it wrong). I’m leaning toward Batman: Arkham Asylum (£14.99). Or maybe Machinarium (£7.49). But, really, I’m kind of virgin territory for modern games — I haven’t played any of the major franchises since, like, Quake.
p.p.s. Christopher Taylor has a new book ($1.99) — and this one is for e-reader, finally!
July 15, 2011 — 9:06 pm
Comments: 67
Takin’ his ball, goin’ home
Sung to the tune of “fired up, ready to go!”
The backstory: Obama may (or may not) have stormed out of the budget meeting last night. Ace thinks it was premeditated theater, but I’m not so sure. That weird remark to the effect that “Ronald Reagan wouldn’t have put up with this”…what was that about?
Me, I think it made him look petulant and amateurish, but I suspect his side is eating it up. In fact I know so. Here’s my takeaway from the Politico article:
“Obama lit him up. Cantor sat in stunned silence,” said an official in the meeting. “It was incredible. If the public saw Obama he would win in a landslide.”
Bolding mine. Two things strike me about that: 1) they see everything — absolutely everything — through the lens of Obama’s re-election bid and 2) they think America would just love-LOVE-LOVE to see President Prettyniceguy morph into President Screamingjerk.
They’re wrong on the second point, and the first point scares me juiceless. Take it from a small, damp island on the edge of Europe: we are all of us together, trembling on the edge of an utter economic meltdown. And nobody has the slightest idea what that means.
Addendum: the word has gone out to hang the budget impasse around Eric Cantor’s neck. Let’s hope that works as well as that time they sank Limbaugh and that other time they made Palin irrelevant.
July 14, 2011 — 4:23 pm
Comments: 28
I gotcher three words right here
What did we do before the internet? How on earth did we disseminate badly drawn comics with brain-hurty punchlines? Because I live for this shit.
Really. I derive huge enjoyment from entertainment products that would never have survived the tender mercies of a proper editor. In a better world, I would drunkenly browse LOLcats and homemade YouTubes until my mousin’ finger fell off.
Anyhoo, this is from a webcomic called Three Word Phrase. Must be fairly recent; I read through the whole collection in a half hour. The dog one isn’t my favorite (though I like it), it’s the one that best shrunk down to Weasel Blog size and stayed legible.
I think this is my favorite. Or this one. For the first couple of years I used email, I was pretty sure this is exactly what happens after you hit SEND. Or go here if anyone has ever patiently explained to you that the Death card doesn’t mean what you expect it to.
He relies heavily on the Five P’s – pee, poo, puke, penises and pudenda, so it’s also a mind-expanding intellectual romp.
To be fair, it’s more about butts than anything else, but that would’ve screwed my alliteration. And no, thank you, I didn’t want to use “posterior.”
By the way, I am so stealing “I want this because of reasons.”
July 13, 2011 — 10:23 pm
Comments: 20
Um hm. I expected as much.
Much to the surprise of absolutely no-one, the fox came back last night. I set up the wildlife cam to point to the chicken runs, knowing the likelihood.
Click the picture to be whisked away to YouTube and see for yourself. It’s cut together from five clips (the camera shoots 15-second chunks), all in quick succession around 3am.
He’s a handsome brute, isn’t he?
July 12, 2011 — 7:51 pm
Comments: 26
Why did the chicken cross the road?
To get away from the thumping great fox.
No, no…everyone’s fine. Just. The chickens let out a terrible squawking a few hours past, and I ran to the window just in time to see Lucia flap by, followed by Vita, followed by a sleek young fox.
I yelled “FOX!” and hit the door, which was enough to turn him around. Bastard. He was within inches of getting one of my nice birds.
I scooped up Vita, found Violet (O clever bird, she had flown perpendicular to the commotion), checked that Mapp was in her usual place (sitting on the nest trying to hatch a lump of wood), but of Lucia…nothing.
She had lit out up the stairs and into the driveway into forbidden territory. Our drive is fairly long and lined with trees and shrubs and long grass and stinging nettles. There must be a thousand places a panicky chicken could lay low. We spent an hour walking up and down the drive calling her name and listening for the cluck before Uncle B spotted her — clear across the road, over the fence and into a sheep field.
Busy road. Lucky chicken. She was allll kinds of freaked out when I went to collect her and did a little panic dance every time a car went by. So really, having no other tools at my disposal, I shoved her under my shirt to get her back across. I’m not sure either of us will recover from the indignity.
Got back to find our outside cat, the unfixed male, had peed a streak of scent mark right across the face of my banjo. Is that a compliment?
July 11, 2011 — 9:10 pm
Comments: 29
Scientists discover the point of sex
Apparently, it helps us survive the cooties. Where would we be without science?
Yeah, that’s all I got. It’s Friday. I’m going to go play video games.
Good weekend, everyone!
July 8, 2011 — 9:52 pm
Comments: 28
I’m slipping…
If they really do off the guy tonight, I can’t see any way around it — steel cage match. Oooohhh…there’s so going to be a new Rule Zero next time.
Y’all are lucky I put my zither banjo back together tonight after weeks of gluing things and polishing bits. The head finally dried this afternoon, ready for stringing.
Turns out, gut strings aren’t tied off for you and you have to learn to tie knots.
Yeah. Kinda busy.
Update: ruling — nah. Dead Pool is still on. Allen reminds me I smacked him upside the head for trying to pick a death row inmate once before.
REPEAT: DEAD POOL STILL ON.
July 7, 2011 — 10:34 pm
Comments: 45