I was going to start documenting my experiences with the Nikon D70 and Linux on a wiki of my own, but it looks like there’s a better place to do it: the Digital Photography and Linux wiki.
It’s slightly out of date, but we can fix that.
I was going to start documenting my experiences with the Nikon D70 and Linux on a wiki of my own, but it looks like there’s a better place to do it: the Digital Photography and Linux wiki.
It’s slightly out of date, but we can fix that.

I think this is out of copyright in Canada now, so please enjoy The Specialist, by Charles Sale.
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Okay, so maybe it’s a hydrogen gas station for a demonstrator fuel cell car, but it’s still a big ugly gas station. I think it spoils the lines of the park in which the WindShare turbine is cited.
More pictures here: http://scruss.com/gallery/wind
Since I now have a big DSLR, as opposed to a subtle wee rangefinder, I need a new camera bag. I like the one I have, so I went to the manufacturer’s website.
I knew that Crumpler was an odd company, but I wasn’t expecting demented music, a “Nerds” button which sprays poop over the screen, or animated chickens. The question is, would I trust my camera to these people? Could I trust it to anybody else?

One of these vehicles is a ridiculously unsafe vehicle that should never be allowed on the road. The other is a Speed Machine recumbent bicycle

… would be more fun than following the Olympics.
Seriously, if there’s anyone out there who thinks that the Limping Games is anything other than a cash grab for synthetic hormone-enhanced automata, I’d like to meet them — and mock them repeatedly with “You sad old man!” delivered in a scornful faux-Cockney accent.
Take the 400m race, for instance. If I stayed in exactly the same place, I’d be back where I started 43.18 seconds before the world record holder, and what’s more, I wouldn’t even be remotely out of breath. And we give medals to people who run round in circles? Jings!
The above image is a glyph from the Olympukes Light free font from fontshop. It speaks to my condition.
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I was very sad to hear that the UofT solar car crashed, killing the driver. I didn’t know Andrew Frow, but I knew some of the Blue Sky Solar Racing team from the sustainability/renewable energy project around UofT.
Catherine’s away on her travels until the 22nd, so I’m on my tod. The future holds moping and lots of take-out koththu roti.
I am doing my best to fill my schedule; there’s lunch and tabla on Sunday at the Harbourfront, then next weekend it’s the Ontario Renaissance Festival with Norvin & Blair.
“A new deep-fried Scottish delicacy has created a miniature moral panic among the UK’s diet-cops.”
What gets me is that no-one commenting on this knows (or has worked out) what the name of this snack means to the average Glaswegian. Let’s just say it’s rude. Very rude. You’ve probably received at least five items of spam about this subject today.

I saw my first in-the-wild preying mantis today. It makes this place so much more exotic than Scotland.
I got rid of nearly all my film camera equipment yesterday. Digital was calling, and I was barely using what I had. To Burlington Camera, I traded in:
… all towards a Nikon D70. I like it a lot.
There is some film equipment I kept, like the amazing 15mm f/4.5 SW Heliar lens. I even bought a Bessa L body from Cameraquest so I could keep using it with my Kaidan KiWi panoramic head. I also kept the Zero Image pinhole camera, as it’s too nice to sell.
Coming back from the camera store, the taxi driver was an artist fae Balornock. I guess there’s a lot more people fae Balornock than in Balornock.
Ever since Mozilla Mail Went Nuts, I haven’t had a Local Folders account to store general and unsent messages. It seems that Mozilla got all its mail server IDs in a fankle, and needed some help to find its way again. Here’s how I fixed it:
/home/user/.mozilla/default/hfwi7xsc.slt/Mail/Local Folders. Yours will be different.When you next open up Mail, you’ll find your Local Folders are back.
We were over at Cinders and Jules’s place last night. Jules said he used to hang out with Bert, a scary sculptor, while at Aberdeen art school.
Turns out that this Bert is the very same Bert Richard, Dalmallyfest impresario and sweary words enthusiast, who was a frequent visitor to 165 Nithsdale Rd back when we lived there with Neil Martin.
From Toronto to Dalmally; it’s a wee world.

This is the sign that used to be at the farm on the corner of Steeles and Warden. If you go there now, it’s just a mini-mall. The geese that used to roost there will be confused.
This sign is vaguely amusing if you know the famous Unix scheduling tool, cron.

(Photo Credit: Brian Gavriloff, Edmonton Journal)
Yes, I’ve been using mind-control techniques on squirrels to get them to erase the environmental and sartorial stain known as golf from the face of the earth.
Or alternatively, it’s just a picture from a silly-season story about Edmonton squirrels stealing golf balls. You decide. Remember, there is no conspiracy.
Thanks, 1and1! It’s taken me several hours to restore Gallery and Movable Type after you decided to delete all my dynamic content. Gotta love that customer service.