Chicken Curry Inna Hurry

HA! No such thing, SUCKA!!! But, I give you my best effort at remembering my mom's curried chicken recipe straight from Trinidad & Tobago (by way of London, Lagos, Brooklyn, Nashville, Detroit...)! It has served me well in impressing dates, cheering friends, and smiting enemies (...with the 'itis!). Enjoy this rendition. If I had any readers, I'd worry that some of you would comment on how your mama has a better recipe and blah, blah, blah, but since I know that you're not out there, eat a habanero fool! Love, peace, and curried chicken grease!!!

Curried Chicken (serving 3-4)

Ingredients

• 1 whole cut up chicken (bone in) – if leaving skin on, try to use less oil: better with skin off
• 2-3 tbsp yellow curry powder (Avoid the “generics” – Durkee, Spice Island, etc.. You want de real ting, neh mahn! Go to your local “ethnic shop” – Indian, Caribbean, Middle Eastern, SouthEast Asian, or whatever passes in your area these days – and get what they’re selling. No, if you live in Weymouth and the shopkeep's from Holbrook, that doesn't count!)
• 0.5-1 tbsp ground cumin
• 2-3 celery stalks chopped or celery seeds
• 4-6 Idaho potatoes – skinned and cut into 8ths
• 1 red pepper chopped
• 1 yellow pepper chopped
• Chopped white mushroom (optional)
• 1 tsp. of habanero or scotch bonnet pepper sauce or 1 whole habanero or scotch bonnet pepper (optional)
• 1 whole medium onion chopped
• 2-3 cloves of garlic (crushed) or 2-3 tsp. minced garlic
• 1-2 spring onions
• Optional Seasonings: Thyme, marjoram, parsley, garlic powder, onion powder, chives, salt, paprika, red pepper, bay leaf (?-maybe 1)

Instructions

1. Prepare ingredients listed above (cut, chop, skin, dice, grind, etc…)
2. Pre-season chicken with: Worcestershire Sauce, 1 tbsp curry powder, 1 tsp ground cumin, onion powder and/or garlic powder, light celery salt, and optional seasonings.
   Place in container seal and shake around a few times.
   Preseason up to day before, leaving seasoning chicken in fridge.
3. In large pot, heat oil (olive or canola or whichever) just covering bottom of pot.
   Ready when piece of onion or celery dropped in sizzles immediately.
4. Add garlic and celery to the pot and heat in until you begin to smell them strongly.
5. Depending on size of chicken and amount of oil in pan, add 2-3 tbsp. of curry powder and 1 tbsp or less of cumin to heated oil and stir in thoroughly with oil (until mostly dissolved, oil deep yellow, and you smell the spices).
6. Add the onion, red pepper, yellow pepper, mushrooms, and optional seasonings and mix thoroughly.
7. Add chicken parts to heated oil.
8. Stir frequently.
9. Watch for chicken pieces to turn mostly white on outside.
10. Meanwhile: Boil kettle full of water.
11. Add cut potatoes to pot.
12. Add up to 2 cups of boiling water.
13. Stir ingredients together and watch sauce thickness. Want it to be gravy or thick soup-like, not thin. If too thin, add potato, or mix cold water and corn starch, potato starch, or wheat flower to thicken.
14. Add whole habanero or scotch bonnet to curry.
    Fish out when just beginning to soften. Keep a sharp eye out! DO NOT allow the pepper to burst, otherwise it will ruin dish.
    If using pepper sauce, add by the drops, stir in and taste frequently to make sure not adding too much.
15. Taste frequently, adding pepper, salt or other seasonings to adjust taste to your liking.
16. Cook partially covered for 10 minutes.
17. Check chicken and add time if not yet cooked through.

Goes well with:

• Fried plantain (like frying French fries. – until golden brown each side)
• Curried Chick peas – roughly same steps above:
  Reduce the ingredients in accordance with size of can of chick peas.
  Skip pre-seasoning and habanero/pepper sauce steps.
  Drain can of chick peas before adding to oil!
• Plain white rice
• Okra and rice
  Boil rice with 1-2 chopped okra per 2 cups rice, and pieces of ham (ham w/bone preferred if available) and pepper to taste
• Roti – you’ll have to buy this from a shop. There may be some Trini’s in your town if you're lucky. Maybe not. We're everywhere...just like us Nigerians. (Wait a second. Did I just refer to myself in the second person, plural? Separately? Twice? What would that be, the fourth person triplicate???)
• Curried string beans (see chick peas).

Bon apetit!

A Special Reminder to ALL Bloggers...

Through our scientific genius, we have made of the world a neighborhood; now through our moral and spiritual genius we must make of it a brotherhood.
- Dr. Martin Luther King

Buy an iPhone, Kill a Kitten

The iPhone craze with an Open Source viewpoint. Questions whether we are witnessing a new technological epoch or simply the results of staffing a well-funded marketing squad. Some of its points are known to many in the Open Source community and others remain in dispute. The dialog in the comments section is what's truly compelling.

read more | digg story

Free Your Mind, and Your iPhone Will Follow: an open letter

I wrote the following in response to an email I just received from freetheiphone.org c/o freepress.net. I applaud their efforts to pressure Apple and the FCC to play fair with the release of the iPhone on a proprietary network. Supposedly we own the telecommunications bandwidth and the companies are just renting, but for the past 6 years at least, it's felt like it's the other way around. As I said, I applaud their work thus far and I urge you to take the time to read up on the issues. But as you'll see below, I implore freepress/freetheiphone both that it's time we made our own game and instead let them play catchup.

Apple will continue to work with proprietary software and make sweetheart deals with whomever they choose as it suits their interests and those of their shareholders. As Microsoft didn't feel the pinch until Linux came along and exposed the naked emperor, Apple will sit on its pedestal meting out its favor to those who prostrate themselves until something puts the magnifier to its nethers and reveals that indeed there is no there there.

I give you, OpenMoko: http://www.openmoko.com/

Take REAL action. Create a fund to hire developers full time to make this a project real working reality - one that works with all GSM/GPRS networks globally, that is not enslaved to iTunes, MusicMatch, or the other media mongers, and that transcends whatever bandwidth the FCC (Federal Communications Cyndicate [sic]) seeks to control.

You must leave the matrix to fight The Matrix. With mindfully dedicated backing Neo1973 (http://www.openmoko.com/products-neo-base-00-stdkit.html) can be that red pill.

I endorse your efforts to reign in the FCC and return them to service of the people, for the people, and by the people. Michael Powell is gone but his ghost yet remains. Exorcise him and the rest of the flunkies from all our airwaves and bandwidth!

As far as Apple and others like them are concerned, corporations are no longer beholden to the people who issue their charters and allow them their 14th amendment "right" to operate as citizens (http://www.thecorporation.org/), Thus, like any torch wielding mob does to unrepentant sociopaths, you've got to hit 'em where it hurts. Hit 'em hard. Then bite it off. I know a mad little window smashing penguin that'd be awful proud.

Yours,
The AFroNaut

Auntie Virus 2007

My dad just asked me what the best Anti-Virus software is now. "No %&#@$! clue," says I. (Not in so few words of course). Anyhow, I did some searching and found a buncha useful links that will help him make an informed Anti-Virus decision. The smartest one always being: wrap your tool, fool!

The following are the latest Top # Lists for Anti-Virus Software (in no particular order):

• Consumer Search's Antivirus Software Reviews
• About.com Top Windows Antivirus
• Firewall Guide's Recommended Retail Anti-Virus Software
• PC World's Top Antivirus Performers
• CNET 2007 Antivirus Performance Test Scores
• Computer Shopper Labs: Anti-Virus Software Ranking List

The only other thing I'll add is that most of the sites above have a shopping section where you can do your own side-by-side reviews and see what other folks using the given products have to say about them. You can purchase the products through some of these sites, but they should also include links to the home pages of the software companies or products themselves. What do I use?

• ClamWin (ClamAV for Windows)
• Comodo Firewall
• C(rap)Cleaner
• AdAware SE Personal

I'm cheap, they're free, and they do what I need them to so far. I particularly like ClamWin/ClamAV because they are Open Source, and their philosophy is that the internet is safer when everyone has high quality anti-virus tools. If you do download, give 'em a donation. May I suggest what you would have paid to renew your old Norton or McAfee license?

Schilling v. Bonds...part 1

The best thing about sports is that it gets everyone around the water-cooler sharing recaps and opinions on the latest happenings on and off the field. And there is no shortage.

Rather than add to the dogpile that is this particularly stinky episode between the Red Sox's Curt Schilling and the Giant's Barry Bonds, I'll just point you to my two favorite postings on the subject so far:

• CasuallyObsessed Blog: Won't Be Going out for Drinks
• KnuckleCurve: Bonds, Schilling, General Silliness

Okay okay. I'll add my opinion. Curt Schilling's a boob. Francona is right. Long live Big Papi!

P.S. Schilling's still a fucking boob!

Destroy the Draft...

...and replace it with something better.

I've been thinking about lifelong dreams and how to achieve them. Some of them, you can keep quietly to yourself, and through your own hard work, see come to fruition. Others, need the power of the whole cosmos to make it happen. Draft for Peace. I feel like this is one of them.

Why is it, that the only opportunity has to serve one's country, get trained, fed, clothed, and paid for it is through the military. There programs and organizations like The Peace Corps, AmeriCorps/CityYear, and TeachForAmerica. But neither individually nor combined do these programs have the span, the reach, nor the spending of the U.S. Military.

To think that when men and women were drafted for WWI and WWII, it wasn't just to serve as soldiers. Farmers were drafted to grow crops. Workers were drafted to build ships, vehicles, armaments, and other wartime supplies. So that the draft was not defined solely to place men in the battlefield.

I got to thinking. Why can't there be a similar selective service, draft, and for that matter full-fledged service corps to serve our society's needs and obligations (to democracy, social justice, and liberty) domestically and globally during peacetime? Is it only when our government fails - vis a vis failed foreign policy that creates the necessity for war - that we can find the funds, resources, and wherewithal to mobilize people to action?

Why is it that there should be any shortage of manpower to renovate schools, to update public utilities like bridges or sewer systems, to maintain a park, or sweep up a sidewalk? Why should non-profit public service organizations struggle to find willing capable individuals to help with projects or even operations?

I bet if you asked a young person if they would like to get paid to learn logistics and communications and give them the choice between implementing for civilian support (disaster and recovery, public events, recreational safety) versus battlefield support, the majority would choose civilian support.

The demand I'm certain is there. Where are the opportunities? Where is the communication and coordination that internet connectivity has enabled? I'm not the first person to have thought of this. The existence of the Peace Corps, Doctors Without Borders, and CityYear speak to the need for such citizen service. However, the recruiting, development, and maintenance of a standing citizen service corps is until now and for the foreseeable future no match to that of the military's.

Yet when we talk of defending Democracy, we immediately think war, guns, tanks, fighter jets, battleships, bombs, and waves upon waves of young soldiers. Yet the defense of Democracy takes place every day in civilian citizen actions, that far outnumber and outstrip any actions taken in aggression. This is what separates Democracies from Military Juntas and Dictatorships, yet to look at the investment our government and our economy makes in military aggression you would think that we as a nation defending a junta or oligarchy instead of a democracy.

Why do we fight? When there is so much work to be done? Soldiers do what they can, and in the desperate situations we place them in, they do what they must. But hammers are near useless with a phillips head screw. And it's plain to me that we are desperately short on phillips head screw drivers. And if that's the case, what really is there left for a tank or a gun to save?

Double the Standards. Double the Fun.

It seems that in the wake of the Don Imus dust up, an ongoing town meeting has been making the circuit across the media spectrum. Subject of this public referendum? Why do black rappers get a pass for insulting black women with offensive language while white infotainers like Imus are publicly cowed, forced to make apologies, then summarily shit-canned? Well, I guess Chuck D truly is prescient. His pronouncement that rap is the ghetto (read: Black people's) CNN has been seconded and carried. At least that's what I'm hearing if the talking heads at EVERY news organization from Fox News to NPR have been asking the question "Why does Imus get in trouble and Snoop Dogg doesn't???" And if that question sounds to you more like a self-pitying whine than a genuine intellectual curious query, then sister you ain't alone.

When I first heard about Imus's off-color (har-har!) comment, it steered me towards the ol' way back machine. I drifted back to the late 90's, back when our current president's dear old dad made the rounds on the news circuits deriding the "Welfare Queens", whose simpering gold-digging was sucking the lifeblood from our nation's T-bills. Their gaggles of bastard kids buying up Air Jordans and crack with food stamps. Their chinchilla coats worn to the welfare office to sign for their monthly checks and laugh in the faces of bedraggled case-workers who desperately pleaded for them to seek employment. The project palaces that beyond the graffiti-plastered piss-smelling hallways, held plush living quarters whose luxury Louis XIV had never even imagined. These nefarious welfare queens, these succubi, scourge of the government teats. They were not the white single parent women whose numbers were (and remain) far greater than the minority women populating the nation's welfare rolls. Of course not, nay. These women were the urban ghetto hordes descended from the slave plantations of the American South, the West Indies, and of Latin America. They had invaded our country with their questionable citizenship to shop, bank, walk, talk, eat, drink, and breath their lives away, all at the hardworking American taxpayer's expense. At least, this is what every segment discussing this on the nightly news and the evening news magazines sought to corroborate at the time with pictures that made it seem like only the swarthy urban poor bloated our overburdened welfare rolls.

Sure, old G. Herb Walker didn't call any of those women nappy-headed-hoes, but I guess back then, but I guess back then, folks were left with just enough room to draw their own conclusions. And if you look at the four year cycles of welfare reform rhetoric we've been subjected to since, he really left no room for guessing.

So maybe this just means that Don Imus's real mistake was not being President before firing off his missives. Or maybe that instead of going after something as demonic and loathsome as poor minority women struggling on public assistance to make a nasty oppressive life something more livable he instead went after young women (some of whom born of and raised by those in the aforementioned category) who are champion-level athletes, and who unlike their male counterparts have to make something real of their college degrees since multi-million dollar professional athletics and endorsement contracts await them at the end of their sophomore and junior years.

And even if Imus wasn't the president or the head of the RNC, why villify the man who isn't a real, truly responsible news media figure, but merely a source of bawdy entertainment sprinkled with commentary on current events and tacit nods from those in political power who time to time need to slum on shows like his to seem more like men of the people? Why harp on this poor soul making him lose his credibility and source of income and speaking platform into the cars homes and earbuds of millions of ClearChannel/Viacom/Sirius/XM public airwave consumers out there, when dastardly RAPPERS call not simply women, but Black African American Women People of Colors dirty words like hoes and bitches and a host of so many other naughty things that we dare not repeat except in gangster movies (gee, no paternalistic chauvinism in these choir boys!), college-panty-raiding comedies, public bathrooms, rest-stop bumper stickers, the in'ernets you've seen? Why should they get away scot free, their only punishment being to straighten up the house before the MTV Cribs camera crew arrives? Well, believe it or not, I've thought of several reasons:

1. Great Expectations. Once upon a time we could take an area of endeavor, say like news journalism and commentary, and say that we can expect the practitioners of said field to be held more accountable to antiquated ideas like professional responsibility and truthful reporting than say...hmm, let's see...popular music? Perhaps in this age of jaded cynicism, such perceptions would be deemed prejudicial if not simply naive. But if I had to bank $1000 as to the social acceptability of a given line in a popular rambunctiously-youth-oriented song than that of a talk radio program, perhaps it's the fogey in me, but I'd bet on the talk radio program. News radio, even talk radio, still depends on the FCC for use of its primary distribution channels far more than popular music. And moreso still than rap music which developed a long way away from the watchful ears of the FCC before breaking into the public airwaves. Considering it was roughly 3 generations back that issued the battle cry sex, drugs, rock and roll, it seems pretty funny to me that talk news programs seek to imply that expectations of an equal or greater sense of decorum should be placed on music (artists) as they are for talk/news (broadcasters). I hope they are expecting my reply that it takes huge balls for them to suggest something so self-serving.



2. Ignorant Assholes. They're not just for breakfast anymore. Nope, they are everywhere. In every field of endeavor. In business, in sports, in politics, in academia, in journalism, and yes, even in entertainment. Believe it or not, assholes have not yet seemed to overplay their hand. Nay, as a community, their currency, especially in the field of entertainment has only seemed to grow. The beauty of assholes is that they are equal opportunity. Doesn't matter how far you climb up the social strata they abound, and profusely at that. As for ignorance, one would think that the more one were educated in general knowledge and public manners required to hold conversations for longer than five minutes that the probability of wholesale ignorance would diminish at an equal rate. Naive optimism? Blind faith? Dumb luck? Maybe all three as it seems more than our fair share of talk radio personalities slipped through the cracks of what one would have assumed the simplest requirements of their chosen profession. And I put ignorance in there as a possibility, but was truly being generous. No one is so ignorant that they wouldn't realize that on talk radio, no matter how shock-jockey, would the expression nappy-headed-hoe be anywhere close to acceptable. No. This was strictly an asshole, move, because only an asshole could be so up on him or herself to believe that they could defy such basic rules of public decorum. And even if Imus were trying to sound street as it were, he was an asshole for thinking he, a half-century-old middle class white guy (Armenian? Yeah, whatever. He's white.), could pull off sounding street enough to say something insulting to a group of women he does not know from Adam, Eve, or the Queen of Sheba - all of whom were Black as it were.
   
   Here's the thing that white folks often fail to understand and thereby make themselves look/sound silly when trying to act cool around Black people. Even with something as seemingly crass, vulgar, and uneducated as sounding hood or street there are rules, a vocabulary, and a usage of said vocabulary that if you have not been around long enough to truly observe it (because, no, the book has not yet been written that will teach you - sorry, no foreign service tapes either...I've checked) then you will sound stupid, and very likely say something stupid and possibly insulting. Likelier still, that in your effort to monkey street slang, you will seem condescending and therefore be insulting practicing this behavior by default. It's not that it's a no win situation. There are plenty of white folks who, like ANY and EVERY minority person you've ever seen in the United States, grew up within a dominant ethnic culture other than their own and tacitly learned it's mechanics and how to manuever within it. Thus that Don Imus and the rest of the dominant news media are not versed in the verbal sparring that takes place within urban and rural Black American culture and have neither the grounding nor ethnic credentials (by virtue of birth or experience) to pull off such sparring, is not the acute racial injustice so many people are trying to make it out to be.



3. It takes one to know one... One of the most basic comebacks of the playground insult games, whether or not you grew up calling it the dozens, or capping, or bagging, or just good old fashioned teasing. For me to call another Black person nappy-headed would be like me calling them darkie or thick-lipped. In American cultural parlance, these descriptors ceased a long time ago to be about actual physical traits and were instead fashioned into some of the many pejoratives used to refer to Black people. As I have distant white ancestry in my background, my hair isn't as kinky, and my skin isn't as dark as some Black people. But little does that matter where these particular words are concerned. They refer to what Black (Americans in particular) may consider the royal we. Therefore any Black person trying to hurl these as insults can be regarded as ridiculous. The trouble with white people saying such things is that it makes them sound hateful. Whether or not it actually insults me (far from, since I like my nappy hair, my dark skin, and thick lips), it does a whole lot more to make me despise a person who'd say that. If they mean it as an insult, then I feel sad and hurt that they have prejudiced themselves to judge me and therefore close themselves off to me socially because of who I am being a Black person (yeah, I could say just because of my skin but biologically and metaphorically speaking, my skin is a huge part of who I am and how I exist in the world, so far be it for me to use diminutive language in describing it). There's nothing you can really do about that. And it's problematic for them for you, and for society. And when you face a problem that you can't really do anything about (anything to fix, that is) you really get frustrated. At least I do. Alternatively, if the person is trying to be funny and familiar, then they've done exactly the opposite. Apart from the immediate affront of having someone try to act more casual and familiar with you than they really are (how many of us would walk up to a stranger, fake like you were going to knee him or her in the groin and shout Think Fast!!!? Not unless you're dumb as a brick or a huge asshole would you try to pull that one off. It's the same thing!). It's problematic because, here's someone who's trying to be clever who is showing complete ignorance and putting you in the terribly awkward position of telling him what he should know better. Again, frustration, which leads to anger which leads to a lot of Black people who simply say fuck white people mean it sincerely, and call it a day - which also frustrates the hell out of me and makes me more acutely aware of how fucked up this country can be.



4. Your kids hate you. Because of your stupid double standard that you think allows you to call women bitches and hoes, call any and all middle easterners potential terrorists, welcome to America! every white person with a European accent...basically all that stuff that you get embarrassed about when one of your older relatives does it around you and you can't correct them because their older and family...you should and more than likely will be ashamed of yourself. And if you're not ashamed now, then that shame kharma, when it comes around will hit you like a fucking freight train. The rule applies equally to rappers as it does radio personalities.
   
   I think of Common and Kanye West. Two Chicago emcees. Fellow Mid-Westerners. Both in recent years have become highly outspoken about the use of gay-bashing language in hip hop. I say from experience that I go home and still hear the words fag, faggot, and homo used there for describing anyone or anything that's corny, stupid, or otherwise distasteful. I see it among Black and White people there equally. I try to tell folks, but most of the time I just cringe. Well. It doesn't surprise me, that Common and Kanye would be among the folks in Hip-Hop to start raising attention and awareness on the issue since like me, it's something that hit close to home with respect to our geographic culture. And they could see how the language shaped the attitude and therefore the callousness and ambivalence if not outright disdain felt towards gay people out there.
   
   What am I saying? Your kids know better than you. The sons and daughters of your loins, of your soul, or of your soil. They know better than you and will be and are sorely ashamed of you when you fuck up. It doesn't matter whether you're a blinged out rapper or a boozed out shock jock even though your kids may still love you (if they do) you're ignorance is giving them plenty of reason to and plenty of fuel to want to disown you, and leave you in the nursing home stewing in your own crap-filled diapers when you need them most. So whine about what's fair and what's not but remember that you're playing yourself in the end. And when that end has been covered in pee and diarrhea for more than a couple hours that rash turns into a MRSA ridden bedsore pretty damn fast.

There's a lot more where that came from, but I've gotta fuckin' get to sleep. Don't feel sorry for Imus. And don't be so quick to think those rappers just get a pass. Chances are the one's whose songs you've actually heard whom you hate with a passion, most Black people hate with a passion too. Mostly because rappers that have outgrown the 3rd grade name-calling and girl-hating and toy-showing-off don't get radio/MTV-play, and we're stuck having a bunch of shitty, no-talent bastards represent a whole group of artists more mature and creative and skillful than they'll ever be. But unlike sports, who crosses the finish line first in the whimsical world of pop entertainment doesn't coincide except rarely with who has the talent. All the more reason why Don Imus can go to hell, since the women he saw fit to try to be cute with had proved their mettle in the one arena that wasn't as subject to prejudice as all the others they'll face in life. And there he goes, stealing their thunder of their accomplishment and salting their wounds with his bullshit. Way to go you wrinkle-assed fuckface!!! And no, Don, I'm not trying to be cutesy and familiar. I mean that from the bottom of my nappy-headed heart.

Let Your Google Calendar Evolve

I successfully added my Evolution (desktop-based) calendar events to my Google calendar with a few very easy steps (see below). To see how to view your Google Calendar from Evolution, check out Johnny Jacob's fantastic tutorial Johnny [Life & Code]: Google Calendar in Evolution. Got me fixin ta git me summa them screenshots an' purty up my page. Geez, Johnny. Make the rest of us look bad, why don't ya!

;-)

1. Export Selected Evolution Calendar to Disk
   1. In Evolution, under the Calendars button in the left hand navigation frame, highlight and right-mouse click the the name of the calendar you wish to export to google.
   2. From the pop-up menu, select "Save to Disk".
   3. Within the Save dialog window, select the "iCalendar format (.ics)" from the list of file types at the bottom of the window.
   4. Enter a name for your calendar export file. **Be sure to append the file extension (.ics). Evolution will not add it automatically.
   5. Select filesystem location easy for you to remember and click Save As.
2. Create and/or Select the Google Calendar to Receive Import
   1. In your Google Calendar account, if the calendar you wish to receive the import already exists, skip to the next numbered step. If you do not have a calendar to which you will import the new calendar file (see step 5), follow the appropriate links or help instructions on the Google Calendar site to create your receiving calendar.
   2. Click the "Manage Calendars" link at the bottom of the Calendars nav box in the left-hand navigation column.
   3. Click "Import Calendar" tab (link)under Calendar Settings.
   4. Click "Browse" button next to "Step 1: Select File" field and navigate to the calendar file you created in step 5.
   5. Use the select box in "Step 2: Choose Calendar" to select the Google calendar to which you will import the new file.
   6. Click "Import" button next to "Step 3: Complete Import". If successful, the page will refresh with a message saying "X events were imported into ______ Calendar". (not a direct transcription of actual message, but the gist of it nonetheless.)
3. Check Your Work
   1. If successful, go to the Calendars box in the left nav and make sure that check box next to the calendar name is checked.
   2. Click the calendar's name and navigate through the calendar to make sure the new "events" have been added. **I've noticed it can take a minute or two for new entries to update. Refreshing the page or switching your calendar view seems to refresh the page and reveal the newly added data.
4. Comments and Caveats
   • I noticed that the times in my entries shifted back 3 hours. I'm on EDT and the site is hosted in the Pacific timezone. Google's import code is probably adjusting the time displayed to the server's timezones. It's the same data, just assuing that you want to see it in California People Time - CPT ;-)
   • I haven't completely troubleshooted the transfers I've made so far, the items I have checked seem to have come over almost perfectly. There's some occasional wierdness in the formatting or character selection in the Comments section (e.g. a pair of TAB characters from Evolution were converted to lowercase letter "t" on import). Not sure if it's the Evolution export or the Google import that catches the blame for that one.
   • Several events on my exported calendar were recurring (repeating over a given date range daily or weekly). I'm happy to note that they carried over into Google as recurring events. In which case you are able to update or delete one and Google will ask if you wish to do the same for the repeats.
   • Finally, so far so good as far as all fields and event properties (e.g. location, show time as, privacy level...) appear to have carried over from Evolution to Google (individual and repeat events alike).
5. Additional Testing and Follow-Up
   • Haven't tested this yet, but would really like to know what happens when you update your Evolution calendar, create a new export file, and import the newer file to Google. Does Google prevent double entries for the same event? Will it prompt you to overwrite (or not) the existing event with the event info from the latest copy?
   • I have successfully made changes (e.g. correcting the event times) in the imported events. However, I have not tested uploading an updated event from Evolution to Google. Will Google do a "diff" between the data file and the data on their site? If so, will it choose the authoritative version automatically (which one)? Will it prompt you to choose? Will they give you an option to merge the data from both where possible?
   • Finally, (as if you couldn't tell before) this is a workaround. Despite looking clunky and laborious in all its steps, I was surprised at how relatively quick, easy, and painfree the effort was. (For example: I still haven't managed to sync my WinCE smartphone to Evolution. <Wince!> indeed!).
     That said, the standard protocols and an API for Google Calendar already exist, putting the pieces in place for an update for Evolution popping up in our respective package managers in days, if not weeks. Should I be predicting wrong, then I challenge all the sharp hackers out there to turn away from Unreal Tournament and WoW for 10 minutes and bring your prodidgious grey-matter to bear on what would seem such an academic exercise in coding. Imagine, fifteen minutes of lightwork, and the love, admiration, cell numbers, IMs, MySpace pages... of the world will be yours. Think about it!

As always, Peace & Blessings.
(Now more than ever!)

Little Duck, Huge Flavor

Little Duck, Huge Flavor

Review of: Little Duck Thai Restaurant

By: Alozie Nwosu

Rating: 4

Read review on Judy's Book.

If you're sick of Applebees and Boston Market for dinner, try out Thai Little Duck over on Granite Ave. Small and inobtrusive almost to the point of being invisible, this tiny humble establishment hides a formidable menu of tasty healthy delights to any and every palate.

If this would be your first adventure into the land of Thai cooking, then their Pad Thai is a great introductory dish (unless you have a peanut or seafood allergy). If your feeling particularly adventurous, give their spicy Tom Yum Noodles a try. Available as a soup as well as "dry" (without broth). Both styles are out of site. The running favorite for all to whom I've recomended Thai Little Duck is the Basil Fried Rice.

Many veggie dishes to choose from that are more than satisfying to a voracious carnivore like myself. Large portions for short money. The value can't be beat. You can get it take out or have it delivered if you live nearby. Go on in though. Even though it's small, the friendly faces serving and cooking are as satisfying as the delicious meals they provide.

On days that I get out of work late and don't feel like cooking, I bypass Wendy's, keep heading down Newport all the way down to "The Duck". Eat in, take home, or delivered: anyway you choose to get it, do yourself a favor and grab a Little Duck.

ERROR: cannot find -ldb1

Caught the error above running 'make check' to install Glitter, a GTK+/Gnome news reader.

After some to-ing and fro-ing, I searched and found that this error referred to a missing libdb1.so "file" which in fact is a link file pointing to /usr/lib/libdb-1.##.so. This file is installed with Berkeley Database. What I found was that I had the "DB1" package installed, but not the "DB1-devel" package.

As I run SUSE 10.0, I ran my trusty dusty YaST2 Software Manager, installed the "devel" file (and the other DB packages - DB4, DB41, etc... for good measure). I made clean with "make clean" reran "configure", and "make check". Both worked smoothly. After that, "make install" installed Glitter to my system smooth as ever.

Hope this helps you if you ran into the same problem. Leave a note in the comments section if this helped your particular problem. Note what you were doing (e.g. installing program X) in case anyone else doing the same thing runs into this problem. Thx!

SavetheInternet.com

Are our troops in Iraq getting wounded maimed and killed to protect our Democracy or a Kleptocracy? The cable and phone companies seem to subscribe to the latter. There are bills up for consideration in both houses of congress which will allow the big Internet service providers (the keepers of the trunk lines) to charge a premium for full bandwidth access to domains. Meaning?

The speed with which you get your websites, your email, browse your newsgroups, listen to iTunes, and watch YouTube videos? Forget it. Unless the hosts of the websites, email, newsgroups, etc. are willing to pay the premium, they will get a smaller bandwidth, therefore SLOWER access to the Internet. If you own a website. Guess what? Pay up or slow down.

We enjoy net neutrality. On the Internet, Fox News and Democracy Now! are at the same level as Grandmas-boring-home-movies-someone-please-shoot-me.com. It's the last bastion of democracy. Not simply national democracy, but GLOBAL democracy* (*offer invalid in China, Iran, Turkmenistan, and Utah).

Please go to savetheinternet.com, sign the petition, get the details, contact your representatives and senators, and tell Senator Ted Stevens (R-AK) to go suck an egg. Don't let Bush and his whoring-family-values-gestapo-cronies louse up yet another democracy, PLEASE!!!

If You Wouldn't Hire a Fox to Guard Your Henhouse...

...would you hire a rat to inspect your cheese? I think no. But apparently that's exactly what we've done.

Consider reports that since 2001 President Bush has made signing statements on over 750 bills passed by congress, including language that effectively nullifies the very intent of said laws. Check out these reports and share my blistering outrage:

Examples of the president's signing statements - Boston Globe, April 30, 2006

Executive Authority: How Bush redefines the intent of the law... - San Francisco Chronicle, May 6, 2006

Slate's Jurisprudence: Presidential Signing Statements - NPR's Day to Day, January 24, 2006

Expanding Executive Power via Signing Statements - NPR's All Things Considered, January 11, 2006

P.S. For all you smart asses out there, it's only my outrage that's blistering. All else is tip top. You freaks!

"The sleep of reason produces monsters"

~Francisco de Goya

But the ongoing life story chronicled at kddallam.com shows a rare instance where the monsters brought on by the sleep of reason (and very wakeful greed and neglect) failed to completely triumph.

Katie Dallam is a remarkable woman for whom tragedy struck in the boxing ring in her debut match. Through the utter callousness and neglect of the referee, fight doctor, and fight organizers that fateful night, Katie faced a much more experienced fighter who doled out punishment over 4 and a half brutal rounds (which included 141 blows to the head) that could easily have sent her to a much too early grave but for the grace of God. Though the ruptured cerebral artery that the beating and slow response of the ring doctor and staff on the scene left her with did not take her life, it certainly shattered it.

A born fighter, having fought all her life from troubled childhood until that fateful night, she fought through what was certain death, and awoke from her coma thus beginning a much tougher fight for recovery. From the resultant traumatic brain injury she had to relearn all aspects of her life, from who she was, to how to take care of herself. Her frustrating war with words and recovering her verbal expression turned her towards artistic expression, which prolific during her recovery and rehab eloquently describe her inner world.

I found Katie's site and her story completely by accident (started looking up information about an upcoming fight, and eventually ended up here) and it couldn't have been a happier one. I stumbled across this site from simply looking up the date and card information of a women's boxing match taking place in Providence later this month. Drawn by the sexy allure of tough women, brutal yet feminine tomboys, I kicked around Google and the pages of wban.org until I quite inadvertently stumbled across Katie's website and her story.

Thus what started as idle post-workday browsing the web for titillation in the end brought me to one of the most incredible stories I've ever read. It brought me tremendous inspiration and hope. Read her story, look through her tremendous artwork and be inspired yourselves.

Missed Appropriation

Note to Bravo Network:

It's not strong BLACK woman. It's strong black WOman.

Nuance and subtlety, my dears. Without it, what was elegant and clever becomes clumsy and just plain amateur.

In the latter, strong and black are peers. They accentuate the woman, the subject of the show, thereby driving home the irony and humor. In the former, the way your announcer says it, the woman, thus the person, is rendered moot. Black is now the subject. The show might as well have been titled Look at Me, I'm BLACK...no not really.

Let me say right now, it takes a brave comic, especially one who's not a Black Woman, to title her show Strong Black Woman. Complements to Kathy Griffin. I hope the special is as good as its title.

Bravo? Coach your announcer. Or better still, hire a strong Black woman...in fact, hire two. Then maybe you'd have understood the subtle genius in the setup and not flubbed it in the delivery.

Edgy humor done well is genius. Edgy humor done poorly is just fucking annoying.

In a word...

truthtastic! Thank you Mr. Colbert.

Proof of Life

When I saw the MTV news bulletin a week ago saying that Proof had been shot and killed the night before, I was struck dumb. I was just coming to learn how various friends from home were professionally, creatively, or socially connected to him. My first thought was on them and the loss of their friend, the loss of a cool person whom I might have had the opportunity to meet on my coming trip home. Juxtaposed to the cold passionless details of a news update, the sense of loss echoed. Then I thought of another news update I had heard not too long before.

When Jay Dee's passing due to kidney failure was announced, I was sad and hurt by life's seeming injustice. That a man my age would be taken down by an old man's disease. And the additional tragedy of a struggling community trying desperately to rebuild itself, losing such a talented member. But then I was oddly heartened. I dared to think that maybe a page has turned, and that Hip Hop's age of untimely deaths due to violence may have finally passed. That we would embrace the sadness and tragedy of Jay Dee's untimely passing and those who were otherwise inclined would come to value their lives and to value and respect the lives of others more. Maybe in the person of Jay Dee, God had sent Hip Hop a rainbow signifying the end of the violent flood.

Khary Kimani Turner, also a Detroit emcee-poet and a contributor to the Detroit Metro Times, tells of a Proof in the midst of personal transformation. He had begun to restore control over his affairs, mending fences with well-known rivals, solidifying his business endeavors, and reconciling with his estranged wife and mother of his children. In effect, he, like so many of us in our generation, had tired of an over-extended adolescence, and was truly crossing the threshold to adulthood. A line in The Desiderata reads "Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth." It's the folly of youth, with envy, acrimony, and guns formed the brutal mixture that halted Proof's transition before it could truly begin.

The Hip Hop catalog is dotted with paeans to our better natures, to peace, respect, and community. But alongside the bevy of more visible, and more popular songs, nearly pornographic in their portrayal of sex violence and consumption, these embattled songs and artists of substance ring hollow, even disingenuous. Pleading "Stop the Violence" on one hand, many laugh their way to the bank on the tired worn out backs of "fuck that bitch" and "blast that nigga!" Ironic that a once guerrilla industry fueled by bravado, defiance, creativity, independence, originality and authenticity, now rests contentedly cowed and neutered under the wing of a corporate-controlled music industry that had written it off as a fad thirty years ago.

So before "Self-Destruction II, The Payback" gets underway, I hope folks will take a minute to think about Proof's life interrupted. A bright guy, funny and sharp-witted. Straddling two worlds, and trying to reconcile them within himself: what to leave behind and what to take from either. A guy who's own choices and the choices of those he was with, on a night of relaxation and leisure, left him with no further choices and took him from our world all too soon.

Thinking about this, maybe folks will finally figure out that it will take more than eulogizing songs, newspaper clippings, mural pieces, and blogs like this to honor him. That showing their love and respect requires a deeper and more personal commitment. Like accepting and undertaking the transition to adulthood that Proof didn't get to finish. Tending to family, working hard, making peace with estranged friends and rivals alike, developing and sharing talent, growing up, and being a man. Then, if you wonder whether you've honored him properly, and the many others so carelessly lost before him, look to the lives of those who follow us, and there's your Proof.

error code -8075

Have you been getting this or a similar message when you try to visit secured (HTTPS) websites? I was having this problem with Mozilla Firefox. Here's how I fixed it:

1. Select Preferences in the Edit menu.
2. Select Advanced from the Preferences window navigation bar.
3. Under the Security preferences group, select all the security protocols (SSL 2, SSL 3, and TLS 1).
4. Under Certificates/Client Certificate Selection, choose Select Automatically.
5. Under the Validation/OCSP section, select the Use OCSP to validate only certificates that specify an OCSP service option.
6. Click OK to close and save your changes to the Preferences window.
7. Close all of your browser instances (and quickstarter) and open a new instance.

I believe line item 5 above is what most directly affected the error message in question. The other settings that I think, but am not sure are associated to this problem. If you try this fix, leave a comment and let me know whether it works for you.

Recovered Some Much Needed Space

Last night, fed up with seeing the root partition of my laptop (OpenSUSE on HP Pavillion dv4150us) nearly full at 93%, I decided to take some drastic action. I had ~18 GB on a couple left over partitions I'd created for installing secondary and test operating systems. I never got around to installing said systems (was gonna have another OpenSUSE install for testing upgrades, and an OpenSolaris install just for laughs), so killing those partitions (/secos and /testos respectively) was no big deal. Now the question was: what could I move off of the root partition, and more importantly, how could I do it safely.

Who Gets the Axe?

Well, technically, no one was getting the axe. But I did want to move the directory that was the biggest memory hog on the root partition OFF the root partition. Here's my partition setup after freeing the 18 GB mentioned above:

Device              Mount Point           FS Type
/dev/hda2           /                      ext3
/dev/hda3           /data                   reiserfs
devpts           /dev/pts              devpts
/dev/cdrecorder   /media/cdrw         subfs
/dev/dvdrecorder /media/dvdrecorder subfs
proc             /proc                   proc
usbfs            /proc/bus/usb        usbfs
/dev/hda5           /rescue                ext3 (unused)
/dev/hda1           swap                   swap
/dev/hda6        /tmp                   reiserfs
/dev/hda7        /var                    reiserfs

Now I needed to create a new partition, /dev/hda8, but before doing that, I needed the target directory so that I could determine the size. So being lazy, I went to the GNOME File Browser and simply displayed the properties of the main directories residing on the root partition. I also did a df from the bash command line, but this only gave me info for the partitions and not the directories themselves. Anyhow, here were the directories I had to choose from:

/etc
/bin
/opt
/sbin
/srv
/usr

It was no contest. /usr blew the others away by a mile at ~5 GB in size. Knowing this, I decided to create a new reiser partition at 8 GB and mount it to a new directory called /usr2.

The Old Bait and Switch

So now that I had the new partition mounted:

/dev/hda8        /usr2                   reiserfs

I needed to transfer the data from executing the following as root from the bash prompt:

/usr to /usr2.  cp -ax /usr/* /usr2

took care of that. Needless to say, 5.0G took a bit to copy, so I watched the progress in another terminal using:

watch df

Just a nifty way to refresh the view of the partitions about every 2 seconds to track the change in the new partition's size. Probably slowed the progress of the copy itself, but I'm an impatient masochist who insists upon watching pots boil. When the copy from /usr to /usr2 finished I did a diff -qr between the two:

diff -qr /usr /usr2

Any vet will tell you (as I quickly found out) a diff on two huge directories takes a buttload of time. In hindsight, I would instead select a few key subdirectories to compare unless I've really got a buncha time to waste.

A few minor differences between the directories (a handful of missing files and differing attributes), but otherwise, a-okay. Okay enough for me to risk the next step.

DDRR: Delete, Dismount, Remount, Reboot

Here's where I really got scared. Could I now unmount the new partition, copy /usr to yet another backup (like the now empty /usr2 directory), delete the contents of /usr, and mount the new partition to /usr? I wasn't sure, but I gritted my teeth and went for it, and...

...well? Here's the deal. All of the above worked fine. It was the rebooting that was the catch. I restarted my system and almost immediately got a fatal error. X couldn't start. Files missing. However, fear not! A login prompt requesting my root password was provided so that I could try to fix the problem and reboot. Beat that, Windo$e!!! Anywho, I logged in, checked out my /etc/fstab file and immediately saw the prob:

/dev/hda8         /usr2                   reiserfs ...

So the new partition was still mounting to /usr2, hence empty useless /usr directory hosing up the works. Simple fix in vi changed /usr2 to /usr. Reboot, and what the hell!?!? It actually worked!!!

Eureka!!!

Archimedes couldn't have been happier than I am. I'm now sittin' pretty with an extra 5 fat Gigs on my root partition, and /usr sitting in it's own 8 Gig partition. If I feel like it, I can even expand /usr to 10 Gig or more should the mood grab me. Yea!! I can start installing all kinds of Beta-ware again!!! The villagers rejoice, the kingdom is happy, and all is right with the world once more :-)

Upon Further Reflection...

Was this in fact the best way to go about this change? I really dunno. As you can tell from the story, I more or less winged it, and ultimately got lucky. If you are in a similar bind and see this as your only way out, I accept no responsibility for what may or may not happen. This would truly be an instance of the blind leading the blind. If there was a better way to have gone about the changes above, or at least some refinements you could recommend for the process I described, please leave them in the comments section. I thank you, and the hapless souls stumbling upon this site seeking guidence from my fumbling-stumbling-SysAdministrations thank you! Thanks and best of luck to all.

Judging a Film by Its Book Cover

I wonder if studios know how tough they make it for themselves when their reps give you a survey before you walk into a theater. As soon as I get one of those creamy, would-be soothing sheets, my senses go on alert. My skin draws into goosebumps. The hair on the my nape goes on end. It asks me my sex. A woman yammering behind me distracts me for a second and I check female (MISTAKENLY). It asks me my age. Range. Ever since I was 3 I've been thinking of my age as a precise crisp number, not a range! What's with the trick questions!?! Race. Of course. Hollywood bastards. That way they know which opinions to put in the throwaway pile. Well at least they put "Black/African-descent", and not "African-American" like some stupid forms.

[Imagine the indignity of a Nigerian or Kenyan, just visiting the country and deciding he wanted to check out a movie, only to have a form shoved in his face that tells him he's "African-American." Who pulled the switch on my passport? Or think of the Brit or Italian national for that matter (yes, there are Black Europeans! Even a few whose forebears went there voluntarily!!)? Or how's this for mindbending: you're an Indian from Uganda. What do you say then? Huh? Or how pray tell should Theresa Heinz-Kerry answer on such a form? Didin't think of that one now, did ya??? Silly surveys, trix are for kids.]

But even this little entreaty cannot thwart the coming of my hypercritical self. Like some angry green giant of a movie critic lurking in my subconscious. Mild mannered Bruce Banner that I am would normally be amused momentarily with ridiculously huge mustard yellow polarized glasses. Even the stubby little pencil that comes with the form hearkens back to simpler days when there was nothing one couldn't do with a pencil. No stray mark was indelible. No mistake permanent. Alas, such bliss was only momentary. A palliative, soothing the conscious self to relinquish its hold as monster beneath secured glasses to their perch whilst thumbing the top of his ballpoint like some terrible inky detonator. This friends, was my tenuous grip on reality as I sat down to see the long awaited "V for Vendetta".

For me, two books-made-film have been the standard bearers for said genre: "Lord of the Flies" (the original black and white version), and "Fahrenheit 451". One could argue "Grapes of Wrath" or "The Godfather", and I know the Frodo for President crowd is out there gnashing its teeth in anticipation of locking down on my throat, lithe and tender like a goose. Sorry, Charlie. Get in line behind the "Bridges of Madison County" fans. This is my inch, and I ain't givin' it. Okay. One exception. "High Fidelity". But only 'cause it's John Cusack.

Needless to say, this raises the bar damn high. And 9 times out of 10, even the best (adapted) movies, are mediocre in comparison to the novel. Perhaps even more so with a graphic novel, because unlike a text novel where one must completely imagine settings, and faces, and actions, a graphic novel lays all these out with precision that defies the sharpest camera lenses. Hell, why even make a graphic novel into a movie? Good question.

Well, having eagerly anticipated and now seen "V for Vendetta", I can say why the adaptation is worth the effort.

1) Living parable. Science fiction stories are our modern-day parables. It draws together magic and wonder to warn us of our very mundane human frailties. The story of V is about creating freedom in a society that out of fear has forsaken it in deference to "security". And this was written in the 80's??? Taken as is, the story in its original form is as timely as ever. Well worth a (re)read, even after seeing the movie. However, there is something quite jarring when one sees news footage of the day, OUR day, cut into this fictional cautionary tale. And such a skillfully executed update infuses the parable with new lifeblood. Making a powerful message even more potent by connecting to the accepted and turning it on its head.

2) Flesh, blood, and tears. I don't go in much for movies with a lot of crying. I'll admit it. It scares me. I don't like to cry, and I find the weepy tearjerkers totally manipulative, and I leave them feeling violated. That being said, the most powerful scene in the movie and graphic novel involves Evey Hammond (played by Natalie Portman, "the actress that defines our age" said one WAY too enthusiastic moviegoer walking out behind me when the movie ended) reading a letter she finds in her cell and sobbing and kissing it when she finishes it. These were tears of tremendous sadness and an eternity of pain, but also of defiant and unconquerable love. Her tears are painful, wrenching, triumphant, and joyful. And to have such a scene played by a tremendous actress like Portman (yes, MagnoliaFan walking out behind me was right, but he should have come to that conclusion after seeing "The Professional", as any TRUE Portman fan would have...hah!) is like having a chiropractic adjustment administered to your heart. A visceral moment on paper given bone, flesh, and tears on an IMAX screen no less. My eyes mist and my heart swells simply thinking about it.

3) The Boom Bip. A dark mysterious figure emerges from the shadows. In an elegant frenzy of motion the villain and his henchmen lay thwarted in broken messy piles. We all derive a satisfaction from seeing the truly wicked get their comeuppance. Better still when this vengeance is served in digital surround sound stereo. The snapping of long bones, the swift cuts of the blade, the resonant thud of boot heel to sternum, a triumphant symphony of justice being dealt. One can always imagine using the freeze-frame images a graphic novel provides. But the wonder and magic of the samurai is in that split second pause between his killing stroke and his victims collapse where you can study his face transformed by anger, fear, determination, and possible death. Swiftness of motion, or the illusion thereof, and the power and fury of the bone-crunching deathblow are what make any action comic fan yearn for his favorite books to be made into films. Besides, what's an homage to Guy Fawkes without the thunderous, seat-rumbling, Parliament-leveling fireworks?

Final verdict. Go see it. Then I strongly recommend reading it. Both experiences will change the way you look at your surroundings, the way you breath the air around you, the way you share your life with others (or begin to if you haven't yet started). I have my gripes, of course, having read the book first. And having heard the author's (Alan Moore) own infamous misgivings about the production I didn't want to let Hollywood off too easy. But even in its shortcomings, the filmmakers succeeded where so many others have failed, and attempted and succeeded at things that neither directors, actors, artists, nor writers have dared try. And it's about fucking time.