If I wanted your opinion…

November 6, 2009

I had a laundry list of websites that I assumed would become sentient and strike back at humanity, with Google.com, wolframalpha.com, and WNBA.com at the top of that list. While YouTube wasn’t at the top of my list, it may have to slide in just behind WNBA.com. Today, while searching for a refutation argument for Ray Kurzweil’s artificial intelligence predictions, YouTube offered a suggestion of its own.

My search: “artificial intelligence impossible.”

The result…

YouTube suggests: "Artificial Intelligence Possible"

 

 

 

Everyone’s got to get their two cents in.

Skynet became self aware at 2:14 am EDT August 29, 1997.”
-T-100


Grounds Central Station on Urbanspoon

Grounds Central Station

Hm, that jet tea thing looks interesting. Figures I wouldn't notice it when it was right in front of my face.

Despite rather glaring evidence to the contrary I’m not a morning coffee person. The vast majority of my morning coffee purchases end with an empty coffee cup, a groan, and a vow never to purchase coffee before noon ever again. Unfortunately my need to be a consumer tends to override my anti-coffee sentiment, just as my desire to burn time during the twilight hours kills off all hope of me seeing a sunrise. I’ve found that diluting the coffee in milk–hence my recent Au Lait kick–helps me handle morning coffee. Espresso, however, will handle me no matter how I dress it up. If I love my body, then naturally I would avoid any scenario which would result in wee-hours espresso, yes?

Come on. You know me.

confusing punch card

To say their punch-card system is damned confusing is putting it lightly. Shouldn't I have earned a free jacket or something by now?

Grounds Central Station on Fourth Plain Blvd. is entirely to blame for my morning indigestion. I, naturally, am not to blame since my being a consumer is a medical disability with which I have battled for most of my late adolescent and young adult life. Typically I stop in on “Tightwad Tuesday” for the ultra-discount espresso drinks, and maybe on Thursdays because it’s double-punchcard day. Not only is GCS inconveniently close to my workplace, but they also only serve espresso drinks. This is not surprising, since anyone who wants coffee bad enough to drive up to a wooden box in a parking lot at 7am probably isn’t looking for Decaf French Roast Folgers. Additionally, the no-drip option has had the added effect of making me sound like an absolute tool when I try to be kind to my system in the morning (“80z. 2% vanilla latte, light syrup”).

Anyways, once I finally earn a free kitten with this punch card, I’ll probably take a hiatus from obsessive consumption. I’ve been less inclined to compulsively spend money since I started treating my capitalism with mercury.

Hare: Waiter! There’s a hair in my soup!
Hatter: “Is it blonde?
We’re missing a wiatress!

Lenôtre (Paris) on Urbanspoon
In the midst of slot machines, fliers for strippers, and blue head dudes, the Las Vegas strip has no place for coffee culture. It’s like New York. There’s already enough culture and pseudo-culture overflowing the Las Vegas strip, and cramming a functional, welcoming cafe into the Vegas strip just feels artificial. If you crave a quaint, independent coffee stop you’ll have to do some real searching.

Don't remember what it was, but it was good.

Don't remember what it was, but it was good.

That’s not to say there aren’t places to get coffee that give you other reasons to be there. I enjoyed Le Notre, a fascinating little pastry stop near Paris.  This hip little mango-custard-fruit-thing went well with the abomination of steamed milk and espresso that got served to me under the guise of a “cappuccino.” The dessert selection, however, was out of this world even for a soulless anti-sugar freak like me. In spite of the blue serving trays  reminding me of my fruitless cafe crusade in Brooklyn earlier this year and the confusing silver Christmas tree, all-in-all the experience was aiight.

To be honest, I didn’t come to Vegas for the coffee anyways.

“Giggedy Giggedy.
-Glen Q.

Life’s been pretty hectic, so no new material sadly. An associate (actually two) of mine, however, recently reported purchasing a Nintendo Wii and having wicked fun with it. Regardless of whether or not I believe the Wii is wicked fun or not, this prompted me to revisit one of my favorite posts from the old Extroverted Introversion site, which I’ll likely be putting a wrecking ball sometime soon. Anyways, without further ado, I present:

Top 10 Wii-related accidents (as reported by wiihaveaproblem.com).

1. Crack in television

2. Hole in window

3. Wiimote-shaped dent in wall

4. Shattered 4-inch PDA screen

5. Severed blade from ceiling fan

6. Broken chair from Zelda fishing

7. Hole in mother-in-law’s china cabinet

8. Four stitches in index finger

9. Black eye on girlfriend

10. Bruise on infant son’s head

Impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the Playstation3-related incidents (as reported by juliosus.com):

1. Impregnation of virgin girlfriend.

2. Sold nuclear weapons to North Korea.

3. Psychological trauma suffered by PS3 deconstructing the nature of your reality and existence during a par-4 in Tiger Woods 2009.

4. Near-appointment to highest position in the Holy Catholic Church.

5. Created, destroyed matter.

6. Impregnation of virgin boyfriend.

7. Following a power outage, powered self using electronic energy of inhabitants of household while simulating an imperceptibly similar virtual reality to keep them oblivious to their enslavement.

8. Defeated Chuck Norris in unarmed, hand-to-hand combat. Ate him to absorb his power.

9. Demanded animal sacrifice before loading game data.

10. Deletion of Turbografx 64 from past or future existence.

“…a bold effort perhaps to do away with the grind of random button mashing, but in practice its really only replacing it with random stick waggling.”
“Yahtzee” Croshaw

I’m slowly coming to the conclusion that most patrons of Mugs Coffee are generally younger and hipper than me. The girl who just woke up from napping on the couch reminds me of my days of casual loitering at Cosmo’s Coffeehouse in Bowling Green.

Matcha Latte (Grean Tea & Steamed Milk) at Mugs in Vancouver, WA

Matcha Latte (Green Tea & Steamed Milk) at Mugs Coffee in Vancouver, WA

“It is green.”
Lt. Commander Data

I’ve added a new post category entitled “cultural sinkhole,” as I feel the need to document further evidence of our cultural decline. Since I’m already a regular contributor to it, the least I could do take a few photos for posterity. Once you know what a embarrassing fascinating spectacle our society has become, it doesn’t take much effort to see evidence of it everywhere. Actually, it’s incredibly easy.

I’ve really got no transition for this, so…

It's a combination between bewilderment and anticipation. Yoga for guinea pigs (guineoga) can't be far behind.

It's a combination between bewilderment and anticipation. Yoga for guinea pigs (guineoga) can't be far behind.

“It was lunacy,” Ms. Apro recalled. “Peanuts, my retired racer greyhound, didn’t participate at all. Instead, I did downward-facing dog while he ate the most treats he’s ever had in a 60-minute period.”
NY Times article on Doga.

While there’s all kinds of reasons not to love franchising, it does allow you to get on a plane in New Jersey, land in Singapore, and still be able to satisfy your Double Whopper with cheese craving. Sure, I’ve never had that craving myself, but there’s something to be said for dependability. With so many franchises, regions must establish their individuality by filling in those spaces between with local flavor. The danger, however, of too strong a sense of identity, is that the local flavor falls into monotony that could make even Starbucks feel fresh (and by the way, this new Via tastes better than their normal brew…).

Masks. How expectedly random.

Masks. How expectedly random. The conveniently located power strip, however, is quite original.

The Portland condition seems to be defined by a push toward the kooky side of liberal. In fact, some locals run the risk of throwing their back out trying so hard to be individuals. Unfortunately, when everyone is weird, the dude on the corner decked out in LL Bean stands out. In the effort to become hip and 3dgy (because “edgy” just doesn’t cut it anymore), many Portland…ok, ok, Northwest coffee hotspots have begun to feel blandly predictable. The bouquets of event flyers, local artwork, eclectic color schemes, veggie vegan food selection, Voodoo doughnuts, chalkboard menus, and yard sale tables and chairs have all become…routine. What else can you offer me?

Have I been here before?

Have I been here before?

The clever places manage to follow the PDX template, but find unique ways to fill it in that aren’t always as obvious as “weird.” Tiny’s Coffee on MLK wins by being serving up a helping of accommodating eclectic with a side dish of eclectic accommodating. While my first impression of Tiny’s was all that I would expect, upon closer inspection, they found unique ways to color within the lines.  I had more electrical outlets than I could ever need (Seriously. Over a dozen), a menu more than happy to serve carnivore needs, lots of floor space with plenty of tables, arcade pinball,  and an ATM in the corner which was also a nice touch. The layout also does some fascinating work with levels that I don’t quite understand (“Is that a window? Is that a window? Is someone watching me from up there?”).  Tiny’s certainly has the Portland look and feel, but has an identity all their own…well, except for the other Tiny’s on Hawthorne.

Okay, I tried.  Lets move on.

That coffee table looks suspiciously like a baby grand piano.

That coffee table looks suspiciously like a baby grand piano.

Elevated Coffee on way north MLK took a whole new route altogether. Like Tiny’s, they serve Stumptown Coffee (*yawn*), offer free WiFi (no-brainer), and adorn their walls with art (actually, you can’t really go wrong with that). The main difference is the decor, and I’ll be honest here: It’s been some time since I’ve seen such a well-decorated café. The black and white scheme and new(!) furniture stopped just short of swank, and settles nicely into sleek. The internet terminals , bookshelves, and local art provides a personable balance to the white baby-grand piano in the corner that provides a dollop of chic. Arts-wise, Elevated Coffee reaches out to the jazz-ish crowd, with shows on Saturday and Sunday, and I may just break my futon again just to have an excuse to stop by and stare at their decor. Seriously, this place is gorgeous.

…if only they could do something about that Twitter foolishness.

“Let’s get ‘er done!”

September 25, 2009

Continued reminders of what two posts on my blog have generated the most traffic. Of course, given the cultural milestone we reached today, I shouldn’t be surprised.

Statistical proof of my contributions to the intellectual backslide of our society.

Statistical proof of my contributions to the intellectual backslide of our society.

“We’re talking about a society in which the name Newton is now more often associated with a fig-filled dessert than the scientist who revolutionized modern thought.”
-Howard Thurston, Biologist.

Here’s That Rainy Day.

September 19, 2009

Cafe Au Lait at Southwest Grind on a rainy morning.

Cafe Au Lait at Southwest Grind on a rainy morning.

The best Italian cheese money can buy.

"The best Italian cheeses money can buy."

I’ve been living in Vancouver for four months, and any day now Comcast is going to hike my introductory cable internet rate up and I’ll respond by heaving a cinder block through the window of their business. Also in that time, I’ve discovered a few primo dining establishments. Now, I’m not a food reviewer nor do I aspire to be one, but I am a huge fan of Pizza Paradise on the corner of Evergreen and Main Street. Sure, their pizza is fantastic and I love that they go to the effort to use green leaf lettuce instead of iceberg for their salads. The free wireless makes them the perfect spot for a lunch break as well. What I truly love about Pizza Paradise is that they prepare their pizza with Grande Cheese. Not just the cheese, mind you, but the slogan:

Grande cheese: The finest Italian cheeses money can buy!

I’m not going to deny it, that cheese is damned good, and with good reason. That’s not my issue though. My question is, if you’ve truly got your hands on “the best Italian cheeses money can buy,” what’s to stop you from having the best Italian cheeses money can’t buy? I mean, if I knew that there was cheese so good that standard currency is insufficient, who knows what lengths I’d go to get my hands on it? Just picture it:

Grande Cheese: Too good for your money. You want our cheese? Give us your kidney.

Now that’s marketing.