fil's mythos

'virtual film'

2011-10-18T03:14:00.001Z

'virtual film'

My 1950s Ansco Memar Pronto would be worth maybe $10 -- if the shutter weren't stuck. I only managed to shoot a couple of rolls with it before it fell off the top of a refrigerator about 13 years ago. That really sucked, because this is not something that is easily taken apart and having it fixed at a camera shop would have cost more than I felt comfortable spending on a hobby, at the time. During my short time using it, I found its 100% manual operation to be quite engaging...

Of course the shot of it above was taken with a digital camera, and yeah, I do like being able to see my shots as soon as they're taken, but it never ever takes the shot at the exact instant I press down on the button.

I'm sure there are digital cameras out there that give you the option of setting things 'manually', but I do have to wonder if any of them give you that instant response of manually operating a shutter...

---

A couple of years ago I had an idea. I knew I was probably not the only one to have had it, but I never Googled it to see -- until tonight. Turns out someone started a company over a decade ago to develop 'silicon film' -- but the company appears to have folded in 2006 or so...

The idea is simple. As small as digital cameras have become, there's no reason they can't be made to mimic a roll of film inside an old camera. You'd prime it by 'winding the film', and it would be ready to capture an image at the moment you open the shutter. It could immediately shut itself down, or preferably stay in standby mode for 20 seconds or so. It could beep to let you know it was ready, beep again (maybe twice) before shutting down.

Except for the beeping (which you could turn off), it would act just like a seemingly endless roll of film -- but then instead of having to wait for (and pay for) developing, when you take it out you can just plug it in with a USB cord and upload your images to any computer.

So you wouldn't be able to look at your photos right away. Would you really mind all that much? It wouldn't take all that long to pop the 'virtual film' out of the camera and connect it to a computer. Besides, the tiny monitors on the backs of digital cameras can't really represent your images all that well anyway. You don't quite know what you've got until you see it on a larger screen.

WHEN this kind of device is made available, those of us who used to enjoy manual photography but would rather not have to deal with actual film will be putting our vintage cameras back into service...

Article excerpt below (published February 2001) copied & pasted from:http://www.dpreview.com/news/0102/01021404pma04.asp

Silicon Film

Silicon Film, after many years of press releases and delays have finally brought working product to a trade show. At PMA Silicon Film finally demonstrated their EFS-1 digital film product (along with various add-ons). Essentially the EFS-1 is a digital insert which replaces film in a normal 35mm camera and records the images digitally.
There are still however several limitations, first of all the unit itself has a built-in capacity for 24 images (64MB) after which time it must be inserted into the E-Box and its contents either transferred to a computer or CompactFlash card. The second limitation is that the relatively small 1.3 megapixel CMOS sensor uses only about 30% of the center of the frame, this means that when looking through the viewfinder you have a small field of view (marked out by a supplied rub-on transfer) which equates to a 2.58x focal length multiplier, thus a 28mm lens becomes 72mm. Lastly it only currently supports certain camera models: Nikon F5, F3, N60/N90 and Canon EOS-1N, EOS-A2, EOS-5.
That said, Silicon Film have brought this product to market and we hope are capable of producing similar devices with larger sensors and more internal capacity (or wireless transfer to storage devices). We were lucky enough to be allowed to take a couple of sample images away from the stand, I'll let you decide for yourself.
Shooting an image writes an RAW file onto the EFS-1 which is then decoded by a Photoshop plugin which performs bayer interpolation, white balance, gamma and exposure compensation.


EFS-1 digital film insert	EFS-1 and its two batteries (good for several hundred shots)

EFS-1 being inserted into e-port	e-port (note PCMCIA connector, can be inserted directly into a PCMCIA slot for download)

e-port inserted into e-box for "in the field" download onto CompactFlash cards (Type I/II)	EFS-1 and e-box

EFS-1 inserted into camera	Photoshop plugin transferring three images

Three images transferred and ready for saving	A final Silicon Film image

External links: Silicon Film

---

I can't imagine this idea is dead and gone forever. Sure, it may be quite a while before someone picks up where Silicon Film Technologies left off, but I do believe it will happen...

Eventually.

[Screenshot from Pan Am, Season 1 Episode 4, Eastern Exposure, as seen on Hulu.]

filsmyth
17 October 2011

_____

the state of fil

2010-12-26T09:24:00.000Z

_____

the state of fil

_____

Relax -- I'm not about to declare a new micronation...

You know what, though, we might as well all be living in our own one-person countries. Everyone sees things from his or her own perspective, has unique experiences...

More than most, I live inside my own mind. While my social awkwardness continues to diminish with age, I still don't 'fit in', am still very much puzzled by the motivations of others.

Speaking of others, many over the years have accused me of a distinct lack of motivation. Ambition. Momentum. Work ethic.

To that last one? When I get focussed on something (like a carving project) I can doggedly pursue it for hours on end. Many reading this will have seen the results. Trouble is, something (call it life, if you will) always gets in the way. Thus my carvings most often get put aside -- for days, weeks, months, sometimes even years...

Would be nice if I had the space and other resources -- and more importantly, a lack of other responsibilities -- needed to complete my various creative projects.

Time. Space. Freedom.

_____

One of my favourite quotes is from, of all people, Teddy Roosevelt. He once said, "Do what you can, with what you have, where you are."

Well, here I have a computer (though I share it with the rest of my immediate family), and I can write -- so about 3 years ago, thanks to a then-new friend asking me what I was doing with my life, I decided to write a novel.

I keep saying that the time for me to jump into the process of the actual writing is imminent, after having built it in my head for so long -- and I still feel that way, more and more.

But, I need some things.

I need large blocks of uninterrupted time. I need a constant supply of cigarettes (made from additive-free tobacco), Twinings Earl Grey tea, dark brown sugar to sweeten it -- and at other times, beer.

Since I pretty much have those things, what I do not have is an excuse.

So, what I really need is resolve.

_____

But, how long does it take to write one's first novel anyway? It takes as long as it takes, and everyone's process is different.

I don't want to give away the story in this space, but the novel involves technology that could, if properly applied, transform our society and help us realize our potential. From very early on, after an intuitive leap, when I discarded the original premise of an unfinished short story I planned to extend, I realized my novel could potentially play an important role in our transition from the current paradigm of scarcity to a paradigm of abundance -- from the oppressive, fucked-up present to a prosperous, wonderful future.

My short story involved a solitary gamer who had been hermiting himself aboard a space yacht in Earth orbit. His physical needs were met by his ship, all the others via his holographic interface. Never mind what he was about to go through...

I was thinking about holography, you know, something like the Holodecks in various Star Trek episodes and films, wondering how anything artificial could feel real. What I realized in a sudden flash was that if a gaming system was ever going to successfully simulate real life in the way portrayed in Holodeck experiences, the gamer would have to enter a dreamlike state.

Virtual Dreaming! The possibilities began to open up, and an obvious title presented itself: Virtual Dreamer. My original short-story premise, in the light of what I began to imagine, seemed lame. The novel would have to center around the people involved in developing the technology...

Flash-forward to 3 years later (spoiler alert):

All this time I've been living with the idea of how Virtual Dreaming technology will change our world -- aware that it already exists on this planet, in secret, if not in the specific configuration envisioned.

It's like lucid dreaming, or a mushroom trip, except that you're in total control and things can be very concretely defined, recorded, broadcast, shared.

The system triggers an altered state of awareness, and responds to your thoughts.

It could allow us to simply hold a simulated telepathic dialogue with another person, or even more simply, commit thoughts directly to text.

For gaming, it would provide predetermined environments, objects, and scenarios, all shareable -- but possibly subject to change at the gamer's whim.

For design, beyond CAD we have VD/CAD, where you can build a virtual model of anything you want, assisted by artificial intelligence and possibly in collaboration with others. Technical specifications can be filled in for you, and all the while the thing is right there with you, in sight, touch, smell and sound (even taste, where appropriate). Want to design a car? You could sit in it even before it was finished, fully test it out during the design process -- and if you like, find out how it would feel to get run over by it.

Yes 'Virtual Dreaming' is shortened to 'VD'. Think it would be any less infectious? Yet, virtual sex becomes available -- the safest sex imaginable.

People could meet in a virtual space, and actually feel like they were there, and it would be the easiest thing ever to hold a telepathic conversation with anyone else in the 'room'. You would instantly comprehend any and all ideas offered. This would be extremely useful for achieving consensus for any public project or hearing. Such an event could be recorded for future reference, the 'reader' fully experiencing it except for the inability to interact.

Similarly, the memories of attendees of any past event could be pooled with existing footage, resulting in the ability for anyone to newly experience, say, Woodstock. The source memories would be far more explicit and detailed than what anyone could recall unaided.

For that matter, the technology could be used by any individual to revisit past experiences, in private. Just think of a moment, and you're there.

You could of course dream up anything at all, and live it, in private, or semi-privately, or as publicly, even virally, as the public allows.

Everything is connected, much more seamlessly than the experience of surfing the interwebs we enjoy today. This is the next step beyond internet, and it is a quantum leap.

Basically we would (will) become a telepathic society, with a little technological help.

This has many implications.

It changes almost everything.

It completely transforms governance. We will finally be able to have a government truly of, by and for the People -- everywhere. It will be completely transparent and nearly effortless, so that once we've got the hang of it it will be like having no government at all.

Eventually we will (re)gain the ability to access the altered states of conciousness necessary for all these activities without help, relying on the Intelligent System (IS) only to maintain virtual realms and supply connectivity with robotic devices.

_____

Maybe, after reading the above, you can see why it's been 3 years and I still have yet to really begin the actual writing of my novel. I've had to try and figure a LOT of things out, about how the technology is stumbled upon, how my characters deal with the implications, how they've made use of it, where it's all going -- and most of all, how to tell the story. During this time I've encountered several revelations that have blown the plotline to bits, leaving me with only a beginning reft with uncertainty.

Best I can do is present a character who is faced with explaining it all to someone else -- someone with a knack for producing video interviews. The reader, then, will learn everything largely through the interviewer.

I can only spoil the story so much, as it has not been written. My hope is that it will be entertaining, drawing the reader in. If it becomes popular enough, it would expose a segment of the population to the potential of the technology...

Perhaps that would spur (re-)development of the technology, turning fiction into fact...

...And THAT thought has been creating a certain amount of pressure on me over the last 36 months. Is this really my responsibility?!?

Could one man's first novel be that important?

_____

By the way, during this time I have also travelled 'down the rabbit hole' to a place where very few have tread. Using my intuition and discernment, I have acquired a worldview that would likely prove unpopular even amongst the most die-hard truthseekers.

I do not feel it is my place, at this moment, to reveal what I have learned. Too much of it flies in the face of what most accept as 'reality'.

Meanwhile, the veil continues to be lifted. Eventually, what I have learned will be evident to anyone not morbidly consumed by the non-reality fed to us over generations.

_____

I dream of creating music. I have carving projects to finish, and one to begin. Most of all I have this novel to write.

Wish me luck.

_____

filsmyth

December 26, 2010

_____

Water for Fuel

2009-10-31T03:18:00.004Z

_____

Since I named it after the ship from Star Trek -- Deep Space Nine,
maybe it should be called the Defiant II...

I got it about 4 years ago and barely got to enjoy driving it. The starter motor housing would become magnetized, immobilizing the motor itself. A couple dozen taps with a ball peen hammer were required for degaussing before it would start, almost every time.

Then one day it acted like it was starving for fuel -- and I thought I'd just found the spot on the gauge that meant the tank was seriously empty, and felt lucky to be able to coast to a pump...

NO. It had been sitting for years before I traded it for a six-pack of Guinness and had it flatbedded to a shop where the fuel system was cleaned out. Apparently they missed something. My best guess is that there's a clog in one or more of the injectors...

AAAAAAAnyway so the 1981 Toyota Cressida I call the DEFIANT has been sitting on the street in front of my house since then, slowly deteriorating while I've dreamt of converting it to electric. As an electric car, it would never have fuel or starter trouble.

NOT SO FAST.

I don't mean it wouldn't be as quick after such a conversion. I mean, recently I've been rethinking this...

More and more people around the world have been experimenting with GEET systems, and with 'HHO', with a certain amount of success. Some of them document their successes on YouTube -- meaning that these days, it's much easier to get an idea of how to take advantage of these alternative technologies.

A GEET system, simply put, adds water to the air/fuel mixture. With each combustion cycle of each cylinder, the water turns to steam -- and that expansion would be plenty, by itself, to run the engine. Of course you still need fuel, but you use much, much less (and emissions are greatly reduced).

Really, if I could just get my Cressida running again, without any starter trouble or fuel clog worries, that would make me pretty happy. Totally doable, and would have been done a long time ago if I didn't have something else to drive -- but I guess there hasn't been enough motivation...

'HHO' is simply H2O split into its basic elements. THIS IS NOT HARD TO DO, has in fact been done since the 1830s. If you make colloidal silver and have seen bubbles on your electrodes, those are bubbles of hydrogen on one and oxygen on the other...! All it takes is electricity and water, basically...

You may see fancy generators made with stainless steel cylinders arranged 'just so' -- but it doesn't have to be that complicated. I won't get into the details here, as I am not (yet) an expert, but I've seen a convincing demonstration (just search YouTube for 'HHO').

The result of the process is a gaseous mixture of hydrogen and oxygen. If you think that sounds dangerous, you're right -- potentially, it could be. However the volume of these gasses is kept low, the idea being to produce them just before they are consumed by the engine.

If you think you can't produce enough hydrogen to even keep an engine running, from an electrical system charged by that engine, you're just plain wrong. It's just, the technology has been suppressed (for obvious reasons, if you think about it)...

Now, especially if GEET and HHO are combined (meaning less 'fuel' would have to be produced), there really is no GOOD reason we can't all be powering our vehicles with water -- and the thing about it is, it's a lot less expensive than converting to electric.

Of course an electric vehicle still has far fewer moving parts, needs less maintenance, and is more reliable -- but I digress...

Ever use a dehumidifier? If so, you've seen how water can be extracted from the air. There are systems that use the same technology to provide drinking water, even some meant to be mounted in vehicles. Incorporating one of those, potentially you would never even have to add water...!

Summary:

Water contains hydrogen, which is highly flammable, and oxygen. There is no need to separate these gasses after the water is split, especially if they're to be combusted right away.

Water can be added to the air/fuel mixture in an internal combustion engine to increase its efficiency.

Water can be extracted from the air. There is a small amount of water vapor even in the air of desert climates.

The technology to do these things all in one vehicle is not complicated. Theoretically it could have been done a hundred years ago.

Having revised my plan of how to convert my old Toyota into something that doesn't use gasoline (and that moves) -- at a fraction of the cost of the previous plan, and without the range issue -- I find the epic road trip I've been wanting to take coming into clearer focus.

And, the car's nickname begins to make even more sense.

filsmyth AKA 'Phil Smith'
October 30, 2009

[reposted from Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/note.php?created&&suggest&note_id=316337835273 ]

_____

too much and not enough

2009-07-05T07:42:00.002Z

_____

I have too much going on and at the same time, not enough.

Soon I may have my own website... Maybe you think I already have one, the Nation of Earth member site -- but though I've probably been treating it as 'my' site, it's supposed to be for all sentient beings on and near Earth.

The new site is to be for me and my novel, Virtual Dreamer, and the idea is to present the novel online as it unfolds. What I want is for it to be a member site like NoE, but with a lot of its content restricted to a select few friends -- obviously I want the novel to be secure, but I think it would help my process to be able to 'publish' my writing online, and maybe even write it right there on the site.

Meanwhile I would like to use one forum section as my personal blog (yes, what Phil's Mythos, right here, serves as for the time being), while another section would be for discussion and feedback.

There may very well be a way to offer subscriptions and/or a pay-as-you-go, chapter-by-chapter purchase. Am I being presumptuous? I may be an unpublished author working on his first novel, but if the first chapter or two can be presented free-of-charge, I don't think it's unreasonable to expect that a certain percentage of readers would be willing to pay a small fee to not only experience more of the story, but to be among the first to do so.

Really, I don't have much of an understanding of what motivates people to spend, and the only motivation I myself have for even considering the sale of my work in this manner is that the possibility of even a slight income might help to get my family to allow me more computer time (we all share one device).

Just having a site on which to publish, I think, will help my process immensely. Money be damned.

Of course I could just write it all offline, with a file for each chapter in a folder, but what I've become accustomed to is composing posts ONline, out there and accessible. Even if I just copy & paste from an offline composition...

Anyway, back to the subject line: My mind writes checks that I as a physical being in this chaotic world have trouble covering. I have too many ideas and projects for me to be able to deliver on them all, and this problem is compounded every time I think of something new. Too much to do, not enough actual doing.

Yet the novel incorporates many of my daydreams, so it becomes an ultimate expression.

Is there a complete thought above?

I like beer. In the early stages, I'm loosened up and ready to share. As my writing progresses, with beer as my beverage it gets more and more difficult to remain coherent.

Regardless of whether any of this post makes sense, I've reached the point where making sense takes second banana.

Wish me luck in sleeping this off.

filsmyth
05July2009

_____

yep, I still want one

2009-06-28T23:17:00.003Z

I have my reasons.  The Ridgeline:
meets my passenger requirements
would put me at eye level with all those SUVs, minivans, and other trucks people are driving
has all-wheel-drive and decent off-road capability
has an open bed -- not full-size, but big enough
features a locking trunk under the bed, just forward of a tailgate that swings to the side as well as folding down normally
gets reasonable fuel mileage
is a Honda.
In short, it is the vehicle that would make the most sense for me to be driving, AND I happen to like it.

Don't get me started about how I'd modify and accessorize one...



filsmyth
28 June 2009


_____

Avanti and Pope Emo V

2009-05-03T05:00:00.001Z

beltane

2009-05-02T03:49:00.003Z

_____

Today (May 1st, Beltane) we got a pair of kittens, a brother and sister, bringing our cat total back up to 4.

Our impressive black tom, Velvet Jones, is now officially out on his own. Monterey Jack, who came with the house, lived to be about 20 but couldn't hang on. He got thinner and thinner, then sort of faded away, last year.

That left us with Mr. Sushi and Princess Leia. Two cats are plenty, but we knew someone with kittens. Kittens are hard to resist. These were the last two, and we thought they should stay together...

The black male, our daughter named 'Pope Emo V' on the way home. While I insist on at least approving new cats' names (unless they're already named, like Mon and Leia), I eventually had to admit that POPE EMO the FIFTH is a damn cool name for a tiny ball of fuzz.

This left me to name the female calico, the only one in the litter with extra toes, two on each side, inner. The innermost are very small and the outer ones normal-sized, making it look very much like she has thumbs (or as if she's wearing mittens). After getting to know her a bit, I could tell how adventurous she is, so I named her Avanti (Italian for 'forward', or 'ahead').

Enough about cats.

Also, recently I bought four little 'Mr. Stripey' tomato plants (my favourite variety) and have been thinking about how to go about hanging them upside down...

I'm not about to go out and buy some expensive planting system, or for that matter whatever relatively inexpensive hanging planters may be available. I don't even want to look for them. No, I'd rather make my own...

I've got quite a bit of black plastic sheeting, and we always seem to have wire hangers that we don't use. I can do this.

Where to hang them? There isn't enough light on the porch, and the eaves of the shed don't quite reach out far enough...

That leaves the trees.

Stay tuned. I might take photos...

filsmyth
Beltane 2009

_____

changing my name

2009-03-04T18:40:00.002Z

_____

...Wha?

Wait -- let me explain. It's not a change as such, more of a refinement...

I am Phil Smith -- but then again, so are many others. I need to distinguish myself from all the other Phil Smiths out there (including the one who played saxophone for Haircut 100).

In recent years I've never had a problem registering 'filsmyth' as a username, anywhere...

I really have no use for 'Philip' (and people spell it wrong half the time anyway), let alone my middle name, 'Daniel'. I'm really not 'Philip Daniel Smith' anymore, if I ever was. I'm Phil Smith.

Or, filsmyth. Check it out -- it sounds just the same (click for audio): fil + smyth

Maybe there's a numerologist out there who will tell me I'm making a mistake with this change (haven't done anything 'legal' about it yet), but it feels right.

By the way, please don't capitalize it or separate it into two names -- but you can still call me 'fil' for short.

Stay crunchy.

filsmyth
04Mar09

PS The old me can now be seen in a video (smoking)...

_____

spoons delayed

2009-01-24T04:36:00.002Z

_____

The trip was delayed, indefinitely, so no -- the spoons aren't done.

These carvings can be difficult to let go, and that plus general procrastination partially explains why they take so long. I could go ahead and finish them, but seriously want to start getting decent images before they leave my hands. My friend has a camera that not only takes good macro, but does DVD-quality video...

Again, the moment of first oil is magickal. By shooting video I can share the moment and retain an excellent visual record of the carvings.

Patience...

Phil Smith
January 23, 2009

_____

Is it 2009 already?

2009-01-01T07:31:00.006Z

_____

Having a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that it's been almost a year since I decided to write a novel. Okay, so maybe I can't be called a novelist until it's done, and maybe only ONE person out there has an idea of how much work I've put into it -- though I have no permanent text to show...

Should I make a resolution? FINE. I will make just the one this year, to finish this thing. I think that ought to be enough. It's not like I'm a natural storyteller, or an accomplished liar, used to making shit up -- if I can finish this at all, it will be an accomplishment.

Things keep coming to me, that alter the overall story enough to keep me thinking the time is not yet right to begin the actual writing.

Virtual Dreamer is a work of near-future science fiction. I just about have to finish and publish it within the next year for it to mean anything -- plus there's the expectation that print will cease to matter, even within the timeline of the novel itself. If I'm to write it at all, yes, it needs to 'drop' before the end of 2009.

Within the next 2 weeks or so, I have to make sure I have half a dozen spoons ready for oil. The plan is to use a friend's video camera to capture the moment of first oil on several carvings, on the weekend of my 42nd birthday. Each of these carvings takes more hours than I can count, from raw hunk of wood to finished piece, some more than others...

At some point I need to pick up my bass again and work on my technique -- and find time to jam...

Nothing like the beginning of a new year to make you examine your work. I look back at 2008 and realize I've been slacking, even more than a confirmed slacker should.

By the way? The SLACKER button I have as my profile image was procured for me by a friend who has now passed. I don't have the actual button, probably never will.

Like many others, I guess, often I find myself in front of a monitor and keyboard, wanting to express myself -- and sometimes there's no one specific to e-mail... Here's hoping I get 'into the groove' enough with the novel, over the next few months, that my blog posts will become sparse...

Phil Smith

January 1, 2009

_____

another death, and an accidental shooting

2008-12-16T07:35:00.004Z

_____

The two (or three), by the way, are unrelated.

In August, a friend of mine passed unexpectedly. Last week another friend passed, and it was way overdue.

Frank Winans was an extraordinary man, to say the least. Quite a while ago he found Mark Wolfe left for dead in a ditch. The rest, as they say, is history...

Mark was never quite well, after that. Frank told me he had been clinically dead at least 6 times, and for some reason my intuition tells me it was 9. There was a certain amount of brain damage, and he had circulatory problems along with a host of other medical issues. Doctors couldn't explain how Mark remained among the living.

Frank kept him alive.

They were best friends.

In 2005, having known the two of them only online, I met them for the first time in person to go on a weekend trip -- to meet someone else we had only known online. Even though "Kortron" (rest his soul) turned out to be an aging punk, the trip was, overall, quite enjoyable. Despite how annoying Mark could be at times, he was very open and loving. There was something pure about him, and like Frank he possessed psychic abilities. He could see auras, told me mine was multicoloured, "like a rainbow".

On that trip, for which I did all the driving, I played a cassette from a local Parkersburg musician. One of the songs was Let Your Dog Out. On the night Mark passed, one of our mutual friends was awakened by her German Shepherd pup licking her feet. This puppy had been locked in a kennel as part of her training to become a K9 (police) dog, and could not have gotten out on her own -- and all the Humans in the house had been asleep. Mark had a K9 school dropout German shepherd, by the way, up until Frank's passing (Frank had moved Mark in to live with him, and when Frank passed Mark was put in a hospital, then moved to another, faraway hospital after Frank's funeral).

This dog (puppy) being let out was not only a message to our mutual friends, but to me.

While I was in college my father passed, and so did my girlfriend's grandfather. Dad's passing message came to me as a news announcement on an old-time radio in a dream: "Kenneth Smith, dead at 51..."... I woke up and took a shower, which my roommate interrupted with an important phone call. It was my oldest brother, and when he told me the news I said "I know...". Heather had a watch her grandfather had given her, and it stopped. When her grandmother pried the crystal off, the watch started running again. It had stopped because the second hand had somehow been curved upward until it met the crystal.

I have questions.

Mark, an ex-Marine, was left for dead in a ditch. Why?

Frank, as it happens, had a heart condition he didn't let on about. The official finding was that his body succombed to a myocardial infarction, and that was the cause of death -- but he also suffered a massive head trauma, and bled out. Did the heart attack cause him to slip and fall, as we are led to believe, or did the hit come first, and cause the heart attack? And, was it an accident or a blow from an intruder?

Frank, long ago, was one of the 'Nasty Nine'. They were a group of hackers who, back in the day, caused a lot of trouble. Frank was always on the right side of things, so I'm sure any trouble he caused with his hacking was well-intentioned. Later on he became a paralegal, and helped a lot of people win cases against a corrupt local system. I'm not pointing any fingers, but I suspect foul play.

With Frank gone, it was only a matter of time before mark was gone too.

Of course they're not really gone. They've merely shed the 'jackets' of the corporeal beings by which we knew them, and are now flitting about in the spirit world much as they used to, when they would indulge in astral travel -- but now without the burden of having to return to a physical body.

If I miss them it's because I'm not very well tuned-in to their plane of existence.

No, I'm stuck here in the 'real'.

Here in the 'real', on Monday my wife decided to go to a shooting range for the first time -- while I was sleeping. Text from our local TV station's website:

A woman was taken to an area hospital after being shot in the stomach this afternoon.

It happened at the Mountwood Park shooting range around 3:00.

The Wood County Sheriff's Office believes the shooting was accidental.

Officials say someone was putting a gun into case when it went off.

Officers say the bullet shot through the case and hit a woman in the stomach.

The victim was taken to Camden Clark Memorial Hospital.

Her name and condition have not been released.

Her stomach was not hit. That would have been bad. The bullet didn't hit any organs at all -- and today she's back at work, with large Band-Aids over her three little GSWs and a little .22-caliber bullet riding around inside her (it wasn't removed, and she may carry it for the rest of her life).

We don't have any firearms in the house -- the .22 pistol (a rather silly piece, if you ask me) was someone else's.

As an Army veteran I have a certain amount of experience with firearms, but have never fired a handgun and don't (really*) plan to own one. For that matter I've handled and set off explosives. Should I keep those in the house?

I believe in the Second Amendment. It's just my personal choice not to exercise my right to keep and bear arms. I don't hunt, and if I did I'd have a high-powered crossbow. Handguns? No thank you -- unless...

*If I had some extra money and was bored enough, I might like to get a Magnum 500, which is a five-shot revolver that fires .50-caliber rounds. It's the biggest, meanest, most ridiculous handgun on the planet, and I kind of want one. Sort of. Not really. Never wanted to own a firearm before...

"Violence is the last resort of the incompetent."

- Isaac Asimov

Phil Smith

December 18, 2008

_____

quitting cigarettes, but not tobacco

2008-11-11T01:07:00.002Z

_____

I've quit before, once for six months, then about three months later, for half that...

Yes, I'm a smoker, and have been for about 17 years (got a late start, at 24). Nasty habit, but it was a certain time in my life and... Well, let's not get into how I started (or why I started again, after quitting).

Funny thing about tobacco is that it's not as addictive as we are led to believe -- or even as detrimental to health as you might think. It's the additives that are the real culprit, on both counts.

What helped me quit in the past was gradually switching over to high-quality cigarillos. Eventually I was still smoking but not getting the additives, and if I never completely got away from tobacco, at least I wasn't smoking every day.

I simply forgot to smoke, because I had successfully weaned myself away from those addictive chemicals. My advice to anyone who would like to try such a technique is to never let yourself be around cigarettes when you've been drinking and/or in a foul mood, without a decent supply of better tobacco on hand.

Tobacco can be a habit instead of an addiction. No, seriously.

It is one of those things that is meant to be enjoyed in moderation.

So, aware as I am of how much I suck down the product of a cigarette industry run amok -- and as much as I may enjoy it -- I'm just about ready to quit again (or switch, if you want to look at it that way). Why now?

When I drink, I tend to pay very little attention to how much I'm smoking. A hangover is one thing, but several minutes of hacking up phlegm and as much as an hour of laboured breathing aren't fun at all. No, I don't enjoy feeling as though I need to be treated for smoke inhalation...

...and that's the thing: Tobacco smoke really shouldn't be inhaled, at least not very much.

It all started with pipes. Okay sure, no doubt it took the natives a while before they fashioned pipes to enjoy it in, but it was with pipes that it was introduced to the rest of the world. Anyway, I think I'm going to get a pipe. Might even carve one for myself, later on...

As I've been typing of course I've been smoking my Camels, and I haven't started switching over yet. Maybe the goal should be to be cigarette-free by the time I turn 42 (a couple of days before the inauguration). Sounds like a plan.

Phil Smith

November 10, 2008

_____

more Spore silliness

2008-10-24T05:02:00.002Z

Created a creature I call the Sabre-Toothed Alicorn...

There was nothing to use for a tail that looked natural, so I left it off -- and there wasn't a mouth that looked horsey enough, so I used one with tusks (hence, 'sabre-toothed'). An Alicorn, by the way, is an obscure cross between a Pegasus and a Unicorn. The story behind my beast, if there has to be one, is that it's a throwback from an earlier stage in Alicorn evolution -- or (more likely) a mutated version, adapted to survive in an 'extreme' environment...

Goofy, but fun to have around.

Had to revise what has become a favourite, in order for it to appear more as intended during gameplay (axle extensions are ignored, for one thing, in the necessarily lower-detail versions you see collecting spice):

It's a cross between The Car (a modified Lincoln Mark IV from the movie, The Car) and a lowriding pimpmobile -- and that's exactly what I wanted (and the simplistic, boxy body is intentional, as are the Impala-esque taillights). Spore won't let you save a creation without naming it, and it took a while to decide, but eventually a certain Ludacris song came to mind...

During revision the flamethrower exhausts got moved outward, because they were attached to the same 'chassis' as the wheels. Had to widen the chassis (and un-extend the axles) because the wheels were showing up inboard, like the thing was fully skirted. Tweaked it here and there (sorry, no 'before' images) and while I was at it, added the 'Nebulizer' weapon as a hood scoop -- this is also attached to the chassis so that only the upper portion appears above the body.

I may revise it again, adding a narrower element for exhaust mounting, so they can be farther inboard where they were originally placed (and where I think they looked better) or a wider one so they can be half outboard (which I also thought looked good, or bad) -- and I might change the grille.

Other Spore creations of mine will not be shared here, and it is likely that none of them will be shared with the Spore community.

I'm Phil Smith, and I approve this post.

October 24, 2008

_____

sporadic Spore addict

2008-10-16T17:22:00.019Z

_____

Took some screenshots...

Was building a City Hall in the Civilization stage, decided to give it the shape of one thing that is very, very important to civilization.

Discovered the 'Horseshoe Flyer' body when I went to build a land vehicle, and couldn't resist.

Carrying on with the theme, used it for aircraft as well...

...and yes, even for my spaceship.

Later, decided to try my hand at other land vehicles.

Of course during gameplay these are not seen with anywhere near this level of detail, but it's still fun to see them.

Will get bored with it before long...

Phil Smith

October 16, 2008

_____

Coffee and Sandwiches

2008-09-10T16:58:00.002Z

_____

Once upon a time, I attempted to be self-employed.

I got a membership to the Woodworkers' Club at Woodcraft and started to build things that I designed myself. A grand total of 3 furniture projects were completed before I was forced to quit.

Not satisfied with merely designing the look of these projects, I felt compelled to be innovative with joinery. The philosophy was to approach woodworking from a fresh perspective, largely ignoring traditional methods. Each project was successful -- or, would have been...

A complex combination of factors led to my ultimate failure. One of them, I have to admit, is my general lack of a work ethic. I take too long to finish things even when they're projects that I enjoy...

In the end the issue was time. For time spent in the shop, I was supposed to pay a monthly fee. For a while my fees were overlooked, but then someone decided to crack down -- and they wanted back dues. I forget how much it was per month, but over several months it added up to something I could not possibly pay. I could keep up with monthly dues, but that wasn't enough.

It might have been possible to complete those coffee tables before I was forced out. Even when I did manage to find a few hours to spend in the shop, though, there was no guarantee I'd find the space to work in, and often the equipment I needed was being used by someone else.

Another factor was my personal rule of not getting near power tools when I was pissed off. You have no idea -- or maybe you do -- how often a rule like that can impede progress.

Those coffee tables were set to become a pair of impressive pieces, and probably would have led to more consignments. I would still very much like the chance to complete the project, but I have no idea how that could happen. I don't even know whether my materials still exist as I left them.

All I can hope for is to one day be able to pay back the advances I was given, adjusted for inflation. Alternatively, if I had the space to start a woodshop at home, I could try to get my unfinished project back from Woodcraft (or start over) -- but considering how much time and money would be involved, I think the first option would be best.

It gnaws at me from time to time. Don't think I've forgotten.

Will I ever build furniture again? Maybe -- but probably not as a business venture.

Phil Smith
September 10, 2008

_____

I'm an Asshole?

2008-08-21T02:26:00.003Z

_____

I'm an asshole.

Apparently I can be condescending as Hell, and I bitch a lot.

Apparently I can also be funny and insightful, and certain people appreciate my genius, so things balance out...?

'Conceited'. That goes on the list. According to some I'm also pretentious, but no, I don't pretend. I'll admit to lack of knowledge where appropriate -- and that right there, being able to admit you don't know, being willing to learn, is the key to gaining knowledge. If you think you know everything, you cannot learn.

No one can ever know everything. To some it may seem as though I think I know everything, just because I have paid attention to a lot of things over the years, and I'm not afraid to voice my opinion.

'Opinionated'. There's another one. Maybe I do think I know better in a lot of cases, and everyone would be better off if they listened to me. You know what? Maybe I'm right, and everyone needs to fucking listen. In that case I have a few nuggets...

Don't talk on a cellphone while driving. If it rings, don't answer unless you're on a highway with very little traffic around you (or some similar low-pressure situation) -- and even then, keep it short. If you have hands-free, that's a different story, but you still have to remember that your most important task is DRIVING. Pay ATTENTION.
Don't get caught up in politics. In the United States of America at least, it's been proven that whomever has been chosen by the elite will win the Presidency. Even the very few we have to choose among have been preselected, and if by some chance the 'wrong' one gets through 'they' can still take measures... 3 letters: JFK.
Don't fall in love. Now, the last time I was in love I jumped into it... Let me tell you something: Unless the person you're 'in love' with is an actual soulmate, and there's nothing standing in the way of you being happy together forever, you have no chance. Eventually it will end, and your shattered heart will be in pieces on the floor. If you start having feelings for someone, please take a close look. Try to be rational. You may think you're in love, but you may have just not seen the things about the other person that would be dealbreakers. Enjoy the relationship, have fun with the sex, but try not to hang all your hopes on that person. If it works out, great. If it doesn't, at least you have fond memories...
If you have indeed fallen in (or jumped into) love with someone, despite all the warning signs, take a step back and look at the situation. Will you be able to maintain the relationship? Will you be able to provide everything the other person needs? I jumped into love, and was in bliss while I was with her, but in the end had to place family above all else. It was the most painful decision I ever had to make, but I let her go. I was a complete mess after that, mentally unstable for more months than I care to count. All prior heartbreaks seemed trivial. Please try not to fall, and be very careful when you think you want to jump.
Eliminate fear. I'm not sure when, but at some point I realized I was not afraid of ANYTHING. You can go ahead and be cautious, and by all means exercise restraint, use your judgment. Just, you know, have no fear. Live right, and you'll have nothing to fear anyway. Things have a way of working themselves out. Exercise trust.
Forget guilt. Have no remorse. Try to make up for the mistakes you've made, sure, but don't dwell on the past. What's done is done. If you made a mistake, learn from it -- and move on.

I should be writing other things (or maybe I shouldn't be writing anything at all in my present state, after X amount of beers)...

Stay crunchy.

Phil Smith
August 20, 2008

_____

mercy

2008-07-15T05:51:00.003Z

_____

Once upon a time, I met a woman. There was nothing about her I didn't like, and she was pretty far into me as well. At the time I thought I'd be getting a divorce soon...

...but it didn't happen. It was possibly the hardest decision I've ever made, choosing to stick with my family above all else.

Duffy - Mercy (Dunproofin's Thankful Mix)

Challenges are presented to us. This was a big one. I wanted to be with her forever, but I didn't want to be away from my children. Never mind the wife, I mean seriously. She's a train wreck, and I was ready to call the wedding off and never see her again -- but she was pregnant, so I manned up.

Don't get me wrong -- I do love my wife. She's family. I have to. Loved her enough, apparently, to grow our family to a total of 5...

...but we were going through an 'in-house separation' when I met the woman in question.

Duffy - Syrup & Honey

It was a beautiful love affair, from my perspective. In retrospect, it had to have been incredibly wrenching for her. Eventually I had to let her go, as painful as it was for me -- and I stayed in love with her for at least a year afterward.

Life sucks. And, it bites.

Am I over it? Yes and no. I managed to convince myself, over time, that I never REALLY knew her. She kept enough of herself private, probably in self-defense...

We'd both been hurt by love before, had both sworn we'd never fall in love again -- but the night we met, we held hands and jumped. And, it was bliss -- while it lasted.

Somehow Duffy gets close to expressing what it was like. Enjoy the videos.

Phil Smith
July 15, 2008

_____

What's Going On?

2008-06-24T18:45:00.005Z

_____

I've been feeling like I need to post something on the Nation of Earth blog, and something else over at Tellurian Motors... Really, I suppose, I've had the itch to write and am not quite ready to jump back into my novel.

I can feel it coming though, as the story keeps taking form in my head. It being set in the near future, of course I'm going to have to get serious about writing this novel very soon...

On the Nation of Earth blog I was going to write something about an intentional community -- or 'tribe', if you will, within the 'nation' -- but then got conflicted over where the post should appear. While the subject of a 'colony' that I would like to establish certainly falls within the subject matter of the Nation of Earth blog, the post I've been working up to probably fits better here at Phil's Mythos...

So anyway as a sort of update, I guess I'll tell you what I've been thinking (or daydreaming) about the place, and put off writing a full post until later...

While I still look at mountaintop removal sites as being nearly ideal, there is some concern about what the mining activity has done to the water table. A good source of clean water is an absolute must, and I'd rather not have to go to extreme measures for it...

There is a company in California that produces premanufactured homes that are about as 'green' as you can get, so as a measure of expedience I'd like to commission one to be sent to the site, shortly after the site is established. If you watch television at all, you may have seen commercials for steel Quonset-style buildings. I'd like to get a few of those as well -- and so right away you see that architectural planning has gone out the window.

The thing to do would be to make every effort to survey and plan for the future use of the grounds...

[break*]

...from the beginning, even without time for full architectural planning. My dream 'lodge' can be added later, but certainly not before the greenhouses go in.

Look for a new Nation of Earth post soon...

[*had to stop yesterday]

I'm the only one in our family of five who drives, for now, so I was pulled away from this blog to play chauffeur. Had to wait in the car for almost an hour...

Started thinking about my first flat-panel design, the Brubeck, and how it might be updated. Happened to have a pencil and a couple of blank, unlined 3X5 cards in the car, so... I did a few quick (and small) sketches.

The Brubeck was originally intended to be powered by a pair of largish bike engines (finally settled on Kawasaki ZX14s) fuelled by propane, as a sort of farewell celebration of internal combustion. Now, all the concepts for Tellurian Motors are electric -- and if there's going to be an electric Brubeck, I thought, it should benefit from the packaging advantages inherent to electric vehicles.

Meet the Brubeck 2.

The original is front-engined, and its proportions are reflected in that. The redux can have its electric motor mounted between the rear wheels, and its ultracapacitors can be tucked away in various places throughout the chassis. With electric vehicles, the packaging constraints designers have always had to deal with in order to fit in an engine and fuel tank are gone. What freedom!

The Brubeck 2 retains a long nose and short deck, but the base of the windshield can be brought farther forward, without having to worry about engine access.

What I had wanted to write about before, concerning Tellurian Motors, was the future availability of ultracapacitors (which can be fully charged in five minutes, and will eventually replace batteries in countless applications). I've learned that Zenn has acquired exclusive rights to purchase EEStor's ultracapacitors for a very wide range of civilian applications, including conversions and production vehicles.

This means that until someone else starts producing this key component, anyone who wants ultracapacitors for their vehicles will have to go through Zenn. Shrewd move on their part, but now they'll be even more difficult to acquire than I imagined.

Speaking of imagining, of course without a ton of money I'll never be able to establish a planned community, or build a line of electric vehicles there. No, for now I'll have to be satisfied with daydreaming and writing about them.

However there's no reason I can't incorporate these fantasies into my novel -- and so all the mental effort I put toward them will not be entirely in vain.

Meanwhile I continue to carve 'utensil art', and have been taking photos of my current work-in-progress...

Phil Smith
June 24 & 25, 2008

_____

the Biker

2008-05-31T06:21:00.004Z

_____

Learned to ride on a little hard-tired monstrosity, frame broke underneath me when I jumped a curb. Later, after a move, my brothers pitched in and built a bike for me, mostly from spare parts.

The frame may or may not have been from a (20") Schwinn Stingray. The handlebars were 'ape-hangers', and the fork was from a 26". The only new parts were innertubes and a striped banana seat. The older sissy bar eventually failed, at which point I had to bolt on a conventional saddle.

They had painted it flat black, and that used saddle was powder blue. Sure I missed my black banana seat with its offset stripes in 2 shades of orange, but its replacement gave me better control, and was lighter. Riding on my paper route, with the bag resting on the top tube when it was heavy, wore down the paint in one spot to show the frame's previous colours...

When I was 12 (and 5'10"), I used my paper route money to buy a new 27" Raleigh Rampar. $140 was a lot to spend on a bicycle in 1979, but I still have it, and would still be riding it today if it didn't have too many broken spokes on the front wheel. Should really get that taken care of...

As a teenager living far outside of town in the 1980s, I found nothing more entertaining than riding my bicycles. Plural, because as nice as my metallic red British ten-speed was, that old 20" junkyard special was still loads of fun. With the high handlebars and the long fork, and a loose front hub that gave a vibration over 10mph, the thing felt like a Harley to me...

And hey, there's something to be said for single-speed, coaster-brake riding.

I gave that bike to my oldest nephew eventually, and his dad (my brother Dave) at some point had to clear his basement of old bike parts, so it's gone.

Speaking of Dave, recently he's been gifting my family with bikes. Last year he gave us a generic Chinese-built mountain bike, has a quick-release on the seatpost so everyone in the family can ride, no problem. About a week ago he came by with a women's Huffy Saratoga and a Schwinn Suburban...

Never mind the Saratoga, for now. Its front innertube wouldn't inflate, got the wheel off today but darkness intervened... We haven't ridden it yet. The Suburban's front tube failed the day after we got it, but not before I got a serious taste...

Today I got to ride the Schwinn Suburban again. Man, I can't tell you how many hours I spent on the Raleigh, until it was an extension of my being, as natural as walking, but this Suburban is a different trip altogether. I probably rode something similar in 2 previous lives...

While I haven't had the pleasure, in this life, of riding this type of bicycle, it feels incredibly natural -- as natural as it felt to swing up into the saddle on the one and only opportunity I've had in this life to ride a horse.

On a bicycle you are completely in control. You're not prompting an animal, or an engine. You pedal, and it goes. It's a very simple device that you can largely maintain and repair on your own -- and yet it can take you places, or simply give you a ride for the sake of riding. Meanwhile, you're getting exercise.

My new-to-me old Schwinn has full fenders, so if I ride when it's wet I won't be damp all up my back.

Don't even mention fuel prices. If it's at all convenient for you to ride a bicycle instead of driving, why would you choose a motorized vehicle? And hey, if it's nice out why would you play video games or putz around on the computer when you could be riding?

If you don't have a bike, get one.

Stay crunchy.

Phil Smith
May 31st, 2008

_____

2Nite

2008-05-10T05:05:00.002Z

_____

Tonight I'd like to be inspired to write something ground-shaking, or to text-conference with friends I've made online. These things are not happening.

No, I'm just sitting here listening to surf music, from my own files and from MySpace, as my buzz increases...

Here is the image currently on my desktop:

I keep looking at it... Horrified as I am by the process -- and political conditions -- that allowed this space to be created, I'd like to be the person in charge of what happens to it next.

In the center is a prime spot for a flying saucer landing pad. Elsewhere there is plenty of room for a fully functional and self-sustaining 'intentional community'...

Just imagine, if you will, life in such a community. Though the landscape was altered by coal mining, all your electricity is provided by solar panels and windmills. Greenhouses provide much of your food, while many other needs are met through on-site production facilities. You know your neighbours, and are friends with them. You work side-by-side with them, producing the things your community needs and those things that will be traded with other communities.

Utopia? Yes, that is what this image helps me imagine. I'm one lottery win away from beginning to make it happen...

Phil Smith
May 10, 2008

_____

The Cellphone Number of the Beast

2008-05-03T02:45:00.002Z

_____

~~~This is a rant I started on the 3rd...~~~

WHY?

Why do you suppose cellphones have become so popular?

If you have to think about that for a moment, you might say that it's because it's very convenient to be able to make calls and receive them, no matter where you are. You might also mention texting, and GPS, and whatever else -- but those things are ancillary.

It just may be that there is something about cellphones that is like a drug.

Look it up for yourselves, for that is the best way to be informed. Haven't looked into it myself, to verify my suspicions, but there has been a lot of work with electromagnetic frequencies -- and I suspect that cellphone companies have tapped into that research.

There is a natural frequency that the Earth herself emits, and that keeps us on an even keel. Other frequencies can agitate us, or make us feel very loving, or anything in between. There are resonant frequencies, as scientists in secret government programs established decades ago, that are capable of inducing just about any emotional state you can name.

Music, just with its tempo, can effect our mood. Is it such a stretch to consider that electromagnetic frequencies might do the same?

Seriously, there were scientists who spent many years studying the various effects of different frequencies of electromagnetic radiation on human subjects, staring in the 1950s.

Now, I'll readily admit that I absolutely hate cellphones. It would be reason enough, if the extreme rudeness of users was my only gripe -- or that as a driver I see the worst infractions being made by other drivers who happen to have one arm dedicated to holding a cellie, seemingly oblivious to the rules of the road. Another issue, though, for me at least, is the radiation those things emit. I'm particularly sensitive to such things, and on one occasion experienced a very painful and sudden headache in a grocery store, only to examine my surroundings and find a woman out of my previous sightline, answering a call.

The one time I myself used a cellphone while driving, I was in an unfamiliar vehicle, and in answering the call experienced a level of disorientation hardly consummate with that particular combination of piloting a strange conveyance while, odd as it may have been, answering a phone. The disorientation I experienced was very much like being on some kind of mind-altering drug -- and then and there I vowed never to attempt to combine vehicle operation with cellphone usage.

I was more or less forced to put one of those things up to my head since then, a couple of times...

~~~and, break~~~

Should I even go back and read that before going on? Okay, I skimmed it...

Anyway, my point is that I seriously suspect cellphones, by the carefully selected frequencies with which they operate, act like a drug -- and a quite addictive drug, at that. There is no need, for most of those who carry them, to own these things. For the most part, their use is frivolous.

Yes, there are plenty of people who get legitimate use out of them, just as there are plenty who would never think of walking around a grocery store -- or driving -- while on the phone. I'm not saying these things can't be useful, and used responsibly and politely...

What I'm saying is that cellphones have turned into a craze, the level of which can't be explained by how 'cool' it may be perceived to be to have them.

Their minds already dulled by fluoride, their education artificially diluted, today's sheep carry devices that, at the touch of a button, subtly alter their brainwaves -- and (as always), they have no clue. They're being fleeced in a way that (almost) no one saw coming.

I just wish they had the sense not to drive under the influence of microwaves.

Phil Smith
May 6, 2008

_____

Loss?

2008-03-31T14:36:00.004Z

_____

I'm upset. I've been losing sleep, and don't feel like eating.

While I try to remind myself that it's just a thing, and that it's immature to get so emotional over the potential loss of a physical object, a big part of me says "Bullshit!"

We become attached to things. Some of them can come to represent much more than the sum of their parts. A vehicle, for example, is by definition something that takes you somewhere -- and that's not always a physical destination.

I have a car that doesn't run. It hasn't, in fact, run for years. Parked on the street, it has finally come to the attention of a certain member of the local police department that its registration has long since expired -- and today, unless something can be done, it is to be towed.

Others would have gotten rid of such a thing shortly after it was evident how difficult it would be to get it moving again. Others, however, have no clue about how that car moves me even as it sits.

When I got it, it was the first car I'd owned all by myself for about a decade. Never mind 'community property' -- it was my idea to get it, and it's titled in my name. When you share a house with a spouse and three children, there is great value in having something large enough to sit in, that you can call your own. Beyond that, of course, there has always been the promise of one day getting it running again -- or better still, converting it into an electric vehicle.

A large red-orange sticker was affixed to its rear window Saturday morning, with a hand-written notice at the bottom that it was to be towed "Monday, March 21st 2008" -- a date which, strictly speaking, does not exist. It's a simple typo, and the officer obviously meant today, the 31st...

...but it also has a number to call if you have questions. I've called, and been told to call back during regular business hours -- which I have done, and left a voicemail.

The first question that springs to mind is, "How can I possibly get my registration renewed over the weekend, to bring this car into compliance?"

\\\ cut to over 14 hours later \\\

It was late in the afternoon when the officer finally showed up, and WITHOUT a tow truck, um, in tow. He turned out to be very reasonable, giving me until noon on Thursday to get the car registered (while gently reminding me that our daily driver's registration is also about to expire). Of course a prerequisite for registration is insurance...

Pet peeve time. I can't believe the number of people who mispronounce that word. Somehow they manage to put the emphasis on the proper syllable with 'insured', but...

Anyway, insurance is something I've learned to live without for most of the year -- if only because there are times when one must choose which bills are most important. While it's a compulsory, legal requirement, I won't be convinced it's lawful for the State to require anyone to take out a policy with a private company. Now, if one could only manage to gain some kind of equity in an automotive insurance policy, I might feel better about it. Why shouldn't a portion of MY money accumulate until all I will have to pay for a certain level of insurance is a basic fee?

I have never been the cause of an insurance payout.

Accidents can be prevented, and/or avoided. I have many hundreds of thousands of miles behind me, and I always take the task of driving very seriously. You might think I'd be extra careful during those months I drive uninsured, but no. Am I just used to it? Maybe, but I really really don't want to hit anyone or anything, or be hit by anyone else. There are some incredibly bad drivers out there -- you just have to keep a constant vigil.

I've wandered off-topic...

This afternoon, for a while, the very thought of losing that car actually brought a bit of serenity. I thought maybe, if I could just let it go, something better would come along in my life to fill the gap...

Not long after, of course, I no longer had to concern myself with the possibility of such an event. As absurd as it may seem to insure and register a car that doesn't even run, I don't want to have to move it -- and as the officer explained, as long as it's registered it can sit there on the street indefinitely.

The automobile in question is the 1981 Toyota Cressida that I traded a six-pack of Guinness for in late 2004. I have nicknamed it The Defiant both in honour of the cloaked Federation warship on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and for my own determination to keep it, even though it hasn't run since December 2004.

I remain defiant, and the Cressida remains in my possession.

Phil Smith
April 1, 2008

_____

Things That Don't Exist

2008-01-12T06:42:00.000Z

_____

THINGS THAT DON'T EXIST

As some of you may already know, I'm working on a novel. It's near-future science fiction, so that means I'll be writing about things that don't exist...

Guess what? There are many things already that exist pretty much within my own mind, and nowhere else, except where I've been able to describe and/or sketch them, so that they can exist (to some extent) within the minds of others as well.

A short list of things that don't (really) exist:

The Nation of Earth
democracy
Tellurian Motors (and all the vehicles I've imagined I would like to build)
Nuts Behind the Wheel, which is more of a drivers' club than a car club
Spicy Encephalopods! (my band)
the technology that makes the world of my novel possible

To that list you might add the novel itself, but you see, I have a cover, so it has to be real:

...Right?

Anyway, by writing a novel I get to take all my visions (and some of my fantasies) and put them together under one roof. People can drive my cars, participate in my drivers' club, listen to my music, make use of this technology that I stumbled upon the concept of (almost as soon as I started to write this thing) -- the last of which will inexorably lead them to form something very much like the Nation of Earth that I've been prattling on about for the last few years.

I really shouldn't give more details in this space, even if you may be able to guess a few things from the title alone. It's not that I think some enterprising plagiarist will steal the idea and write it before I do, but that I'm not sure myself how the story will play out -- and I wouldn't want to give it away, even if I did.

THINGS THAT MAY EXIST

Now, something that MIGHT happen as the result of this novel is that some of my visions may begin to be translated into reality. First off, if it sells reasonably well I may be able to build at least one vehicle of my own design, and you know, really get the drivers' club going -- and have the time and money to spend on my band (which hasn't been able to get together yet, and needs equipment).

Secondly, it would only take a small group of the right people to be exposed to the technological concept that is the main driver for this novel, be inspired by it, run with it and make it work.

Thirdly, and with or without the development of that technology, readers will be exposed to the idea of the Nation of Earth, be inspired by it, run with it and make it work. It's not as simple as that of course, but the technology will help tremendously. You'll see.

What's that? You're wondering why democracy is on the list? At best we have a representative democracy (not a bad thing, if handled properly), and if you can see things objectively you know that things are not at their best. This world is controlled by cryptocratic oligarchy -- but not for long, at least in my novel.

Am I saying my novel will change the world? Well, the world will certainly be changed WITHIN the novel... What I'm hoping is that I'll be able to write it well enough that yes, millions upon millions will read it, and that it will change the outlook of each reader to some extent. I would very much like it if those millions could begin to share my optimism for the future of Humanity. After reading the story, perhaps they will find my vision of the future plausible...

...And, you know, if and/or when the technology is developed there'll be no turning back. It will be incredibly transformative, and in a positive way...

So you see, after having imagined all this there is no choice but for me to write it, and to write it to the very best of my ability. In order to do so I'll have to retreat a bit, delving more and more into the fictional realm I'm creating -- you probably won't hear from me as much. I don't have a remote cabin and an Underwood, but I can and will reduce distractions...

Wish me luck.

Phil Smith
January 12, 2008

_____

eNeRGy

2007-11-15T04:03:00.000Z

_____

This post is related to both the automotive industry and the Nation of Earth -- however I'm posting it here, as I feel it will take on the form of a personal rant...

eNeRGy

Among the tabs I have open in my browser are a couple of items from Autoweek. Both are about vehicles planned to be released sometime next year -- and in my opinion, both of those vehicles miss the mark...

The Chevrolet Silverado Hybrid, scheduled to be ready for the 2009 model year, is little more than yet another hybrid entering the market -- and by that I mean yet another hybrid that isn't a PLUG-IN hybrid. The simple facts are that no method of wheeled vehicle propulsion is more efficient than electric motors, and most drivers hardly ever need a range beyond what a battery-powered electric vehicle can provide.

When they do, they need a range extender. It would be nice to be able to rent a generator on a trailer -- and when a significant percentage of drivers own electric vehicles, that kind of rental service will be widely available. Meanwhile, if you go to a car dealership, the closest you're likely to find to an electric vehicle will be a parallel hybrid.

Parallel hybrids, instead of relying mainly on electric propulsion, use electric motors to augment propulsion. They are a step in the right direction, but in an unnecessary circle, walking backward. While many, the Silverado included, offer an electric-only mode, they all rely completely upon their internal combustion engines.

Some of these hybrids are being converted. With extra batteries, modified controllers, and charging ports, they become plug-in hybrids and then don't necessarily need their engines. Unless their motors are upgraded, though, they suffer from poor performance. The electric motors fitted to hybrids, after all, were meant to work in concert with internal combustion engines.

Parallel hybrid vehicles are only a little better than internal combustion vehicles. SERIES hybrids, on the other hand... A series hybrid is basically an electric vehicle with an onboard generator...

The Honda FCX Clarity will be available for lease in southern California next summer. As a series hybrid, it is closer to what we ought to be seeing in showrooms everywhere. It has a fuel cell to generate electricity, which is a good idea -- but what is NOT a good idea is that it uses HYDROGEN.

The use of hydrogen as a fuel is, excuse me, just plain stupid. Use all the safeguards you want, I don't care, because safety isn't the issue. Go ahead and build all the hydrogen fuel stations you like -- once again I don't care. Fuel availability isn't the issue either.

The problem is that somewhere, somehow, the hydrogen has to be generated or extracted -- and it takes more energy to generate or extract than you'll ever get back out of it.

Considering all the added expense, including the trillions it would take just to set up a distribution system, it baffles me that hydrogen is being pushed as the fuel of the future. Equally baffling is all the time and money being spent by automotive manufacturers to develop hydrogen-powered vehicles.

I'm downright confounded at the industry's refusal to offer pure electric vehicles.

The good news about the FCX Clarity is that it would be relatively simple to replace its tank and fuel cell with more batteries. As conversions go, it would be an easy one. The bad news is that these cars will be leased, not owned -- so if anyone is going to convert them (even by replacing their hydrogen cells with ones that use a different fuel), it is going to have to be Honda.

Here's hoping they use the FCX platform for a pure electric, somewhere down the line...

RANGE

The ONE disadvantage of electric vehicles is slow recharge. When you reach the end of your range, it takes hours instead of minutes to restore. Even when range is increased to over 200 miles (as Tesla Motors has done with their Roadster), recharge time becomes an issue. As stated above, it would be nice if drivers could rent trailer-mounted generators (perhaps fuelled by propane, using exchange tanks designed for outdoor grills) for longer trips -- but there are other solutions.

If electric vehicles were designed so that their battery packs could be easily removed and replaced, and enough battery-swap stations were established, range would no longer be an issue. We'd want these packs to be standardized -- one size would have to fit all -- but some (larger) vehicles could use more than one pack. For that matter, most could use two smaller packs, and smaller vehicles could operate on one.

You're absolutely correct if you think that would be a huge undertaking. It would take years of planning and require cooperation among dozens of corporations. Here's the thing: If the electric car hadn't been driven to near extinction during the last round, and this plan had been implemented, by now we'd have those standardized battery packs ready to go in swap stations all over the world...

...but that would be a world where the most sensible actions are the ones that are taken -- a world without 9/11 and the Iraq war, without Katrina and other engineered disasters, without an unelected puppet in the Oval Office -- not the world we find ourselves in today.

What those who run everything from behind the scenes don't seem to realize, or care about, is that many of the things that have been held back would be extremely good for the economy. The only reason we aren't moving more quickly toward a changeover to electric vehicles charged by solar panels, windmills, and micro-hydro is that THEY want to continue to control energy and keep making money hand over fist.

They try to tell us that WE are the cause of global warming (when we would all know, if the information were broadcast, that every planet in our solar system is experiencing global warming) and that global warming causes more extreme weather (when they've secretly developed weather engineering so precise as to be able to generate a massive hurricane and deliver it to a specific target -- and could instead be using the technology to combat damaging storms, bring rain to drought-afflicted areas, et cetera).

They foster violence in an incredible range of manifestations to frighten us into giving up our civil liberties, and try to tell us that the unlawful invasion of a foreign country is in our best interests -- when we know, or should know, that freedom is in no way being defended. Can't everyone see how much money is being made through all this killing?

In case you've forgotten, or don't know me very well yet, I happen to be an Army veteran. I was quite young and didn't know better, had just dropped out of college and didn't know what to do next. Almost all of our armed forces personnel join at a very young age, technically adults but not wise enough yet to see things for what they are. They do not get paid well, and have to jump through hoops to receive medical care (if you can call it that) from the Veterans' Administration. Military personnel are cannon fodder -- expendable Humans...

Now, see? I start by revealing why a couple of upcoming 'green' vehicles aren't what they should be, and end up ranting about oligarchic cryptocracy. But, you know, it's all tied together. When there is power without accountability, everyone suffers.

Phil Smith
November 17, 2007

PS Look for a post on the Tellurian Motors blog in the next few days about my truck concept, the original version of which was to be powered by steam. I updated it to be an EV, but after writing the above I feel it should be a (plug-in) series hybrid -- with a propane-fired steam turbine generator...

_____

Festivus

2007-11-12T16:47:00.000Z

_____

I could hardly believe it.

Today, ten days BEFORE Thanksgiving, I stopped by the grocery store for some juice -- only to be confronted with the incessant annoyance of a Salvation Army bell.

My senses and sensibilities assaulted, I marched past the offender with a scowl, shaking my head at him. The mental message: "You ought to know better. It's too soon!" I might have added, in the thoughts I was trying to send the guy, how I never ever want to hear the sound of that bell again, and that if it only had a more pleasant tone their collections would doubtless increase, but I was in a rush...

It's not that I was in too much of a hurry to think about donating. I was just trying to get past the noise as quickly as possible -- a noise that, at the very least, no one should be hearing for a couple more weeks. As much as I felt like asking him how much it would take to make the noise stop, I couldn't have gotten close enough. It's horrendous. What I really wanted to do was grab the damned thing and silence it, shouting something in his face about how it was much too soon...

It's enough to make me drive farther, to another store, for my groceries. I've done exactly that in years past.

I know they're collecting donations to help the less fortunate. I know they mean well. I just wonder what measures I have to take, to keep from seeing and hearing Xmas-related things before Thanksgiving! Seems there's nothing for it but to go on a month-long hermitage near the end of October.

I also wonder, seriously, what kind of mindset it takes to look so forward to Xmas that you start shopping for decorations in October -- and if retailers ever think about the possibility that some potential customers might AVOID their stores when they decorate too soon.

I know I'm not alone. A LOT of people get depressed during 'the holidays', too many for it to only be about lack of sunlight. There's the sheer pressure of not being able to escape the commercialism, the near-constant reminders of a day you are pretty much forced to spend time with people you'd rather not see -- never mind the expectation of gifts, to give and receive, trying to make people happy, whether you want to or not.

Checking Wikipedia, I was somewhat astonished. It seems nearly every culture has, or has had, a midwinter celebration of its own. Can we hope that, after an end to the rampant commercialism that has ruined the season, people will use this time of year to embrace their heritage and celebrate as their ancestors did?

Now ask yourself: How soon do you think people began decorating for those celebrations? A few days? Maybe a week?

I look forward to the Thanksgiving when I'm able to give thanks that I haven't been bombarded with Xmas crap before the 4th Thursday in November.

Phil Smith
November 12, 2007

PS YESTERDAY was Veterans' Day, and I see no good reason to ever 'observe' it on a day other than 11/11...

_____

Limbo

2007-09-16T23:56:00.000Z

_____

Maybe I'm supposed to have taken control of my life by now -- but you know, all my life it seems I've been waiting for something...

What that something is, I couldn't tell you. I feel lost -- adrift -- and it's nothing new.

I love having creative projects to work on, but it's hard to maintain focus on them in this house, as part of a family of five. Writing? Yeah, writing I can do, but I can't tell you how many trains of thought have been derailed in that realm -- how many words, sentences, paragraphs have begun to form in my head only to be blasted away by some random (non-) emergency. Writing is the easiest thing to get back to and the best kind of project to be working on while staying connected to e-mail and instant messaging (while drinking, smoking, and listening to music).

Yet, working on fiction requires the same kind of solitude I can't seem to find in order to work on my music...

What I need is to be able to wake up when I want to, with no one around to bug me, and an open-ended frame of time in which to create. Novelists often go off somewhere to work in private, and other artists have studios. I have a crowded house, and only a few hours at a time by myself. There's always some demand or other on my attention. When I do get to be alone, in the back of my mind is an expiration date on that solitude -- one I often can't read...

One great fantasy that I share with countless millions is winning the lottery. But, would that solve my dilemma? Only if I made it a priority, naturally. I've told myself that, if such a windfall does come, that will be my chance to finally build (electric) vehicles of my own design. Wouldn't that be a way to not only make a significant creative contribution, but help change the world as well?

I'd also like to set up shop, picking up where the late Jim Cadle left off, producing copies of the Flag of Earth to sell. Seriously, I still think it's an image, just when people see, it, will help bring us all together. Mugs, T-shirts...

Is that it? Am I waiting for a lottery win, so I can do whatever the bleep I want? Sounds pathetic. So what if someone once told me (and repeatedly confirmed) that it was in the cards for me? Should I really take that on faith, or should I be taking hold of my own destiny, making things happen for myself?

It's all too easy to dream of the things you'd do, if you could pretty much do anything you wanted. It's all too easy, for that matter, to sit here and write about it.

Maybe I'm waiting for The End of the World As We Know It, the inimitable change that will happen at the end of this particular Long Count of the Mayan Calendar. I'm quite convinced the world will be a much better place after that, one I'm much better suited to. Maybe then, and only then, will I be able to reach my true potential.

Maybe all the experiences I'm having in this life are leading up to that, preparing me for something I can only dream of...

But what of the next five years? What will I do until then?

I need to get organized, and doggedly apply myself to the project at hand, whichever project that is at the time. I need to stop dreaming long enough to DO something.

Yeah, sure, I'm doing something right now. I be bloggin'. Big whoop.

One of my favourite all-time drivers, Colin McRae, bit it this weekend. He crashed his helicopter, taking his son, and his best friend, and his son's best friend with him. Ouch.

I once asked myself how long I'd live, and the answer came back so quickly and clearly that I can't doubt it: 147. I'll live to be 147 years old, this time around. Plenty of time to make some sort of impact, one might say, but it's tough to be 40 and try to rely on the next 107 years for my life to begin to mean something.

Yeah, here I am, kicking myself in the head. Self-admonition...

I have too many unfinished projects to count. I have spoons to carve, to sand, to apply oil to. I have an abandoned novel, and a short story that was supposed to have been the beginning of another novel. I gave up on a career in furniture-building, mid-project (in my defense, there were circumstances beyond my control). I have several automotive designs in my head, and way too few visual representations of them. I'm supposedly in a band, but I have yet to compose anything for it or teach myself to play my bass guitar.

In short, I have little to show for my life, so far. Colin McRae was 39. Even closer to my age, at the time, was Kurt Cobain. If I were to suddenly be no more (which I won't -- see above), I'd hardly be missed.

No biggie, no pressure, more than a century left. Right? Not exactly.

There will be those who will say that my being a part of a surf band (even if we create a new genre, 'electrosurf'), at my age, is evidence of a 'mid-life crisis'. Bleep all those people -- I won't reach 'mid-life' until I'm in my seventies.

Yeah, maybe I'll look back at tonight, and this post, glibly. I'm looking forward to that. You're reading the post of someone who is about to BURST. I can't take it anymore.

Something's gotta give.

Phil Smith
September 16, 2007

_____

Ear Candy

2007-07-16T07:07:00.000Z

_____

In the late Eighties, I got together with a couple of friends in the forming of a 'band'. Before we could get beyond a few experimental recordings -- we would simply set things up and start rolling tape -- in 1991 my fiancee pulled something worse than 'a Yoko', leaving me for another member of our little trio. Not only did she break up the band, but she took a close friend away from us.

Gary was gracious enough to give up all rights to the existing material, so now Patrick and I can do whatever we want with it. So far, that has amounted to bupkis. However, since that time, technology has caught up with us. All we have to do is get the material from cassette to digital...

...and then we can grab those occasional brilliant bits and use them as the basis for several brilliant tracks. There is at least one, for that matter, that can stand on its own.

Meanwhile, Patrick has been producing music using computers, gathering all the necessary software and pumping out some very interesting stuff -- that he mostly keeps to himself. For my part, a few years ago I bought a bass guitar...

...but then, after idly messing around with it for a while, I came up with a new concept for how to play a bass that, quite frankly, intimidates me. I can hear how it will sound, in my head, but I haven't attempted it. In fact, my red & white Peavy Fury (named Christine, after Stephen King's Plymouth Fury) has been largely confined to her case ever since.

Oh sure, I found a site where I could compose music online, and created a track that some of you reading this have heard. Big deal. I like it, and my son likes it, but that track will go down as a footnote if anyone remembers it at all. The program was very limited. I did my best, at the time...

Yes, it is possible for one person to author music and make it successful. Dave Grohl, for example, after drumming with Nirvana wrote all the music and played all the instruments for the first Foo Fighters album. The thing is, it really really helps to have someone else there to tell you whether it's any good, and/or to add something. There is a reason that we (mostly) listen to music created by bands rather than by solitary composers.

Not that I know what it will sound like, exactly, but Patrick and I have been talking about collaborating on new music for quite a while now. There is, of course, apprehension, as we know it will take untold hours and the creative process will temporarily eclipse everything else in our lives.

Tension builds. This fall, Patrick and I will have known one another for 25 years. A quarter-century is nothing to sneeze at. When my kids are back in school at the end of August, I'll have some time alone in the house to finally approach my so-far-conceptual bass method without interruption.

Actually I may try to tackle it before then, or at least grab hold of it and wrestle it to the ground. We'll see...

One may think that a slacker like me would have plenty of time for creative endeavours, but you have no idea of the demands on my existence that keep me busy. I'm the only driver in a family of five, for one thing...

One thing is clear: When we have music to share, it will be available at no cost, downloadable from whatever site we set up. Not that we won't pursue CD sales, but Patrick and I both feel that copyrights and litigation are bullshit. It may be a while, but you may eventually find a link in this space to some mind-blowing ear candy.

Phil Smith
July 16, 2007

_____

Saying Goodbye To an Old Friend

2007-06-15T03:18:00.001Z

____

Old brown chair, you were a good friend...

...but the time has come, to say goodbye.

_____

Spoon Season

2007-06-01T02:51:00.000Z

Spoon season is in full swing. I've got a crop of 3 at the moment, one left over from last season.

What is spoon season? I create wooden utensil art, far removed from traditional spoon carving. If I carve inside, there's a mess to clean up. Outside, I can literally let the chips fall where they may. Spoon season covers those months where it's warm enough to carve outside.

Problem is, creative projects often get quite a grip on me, so it can be hard to quit when it gets dark or starts raining. As I type this, there are some wood chips under my chair...

The one left over from last season is fairly large, and of furniture-grade cherry. I knew it would take a long time. By the way? It wasn't always the case, but nowadays I carve these things completely by hand.

My main carving tool is a utility knife. This season I treated myself to some new steel -- a folding, one-hand action, quick-change Craftsman with Brazilian cherry (a hardwood from Brazil that merely resembles cherry, and is much harder -- many owners of this model knife likely mistake it for plastic).

I've carved Brazilian cherry before, but not by hand. I like a challenge, but...

The other two spoons I've got going right now are of wild cherry -- but get this: As unusual as you might think wild cherry is, this wood is special.

Let me tell you why:

One night last year I had a sudden urge to run out into the woods behind my house (I live in town, but near a steep ridge). I was in some sort of state of heightened awareness. Found a log and rushed back to the yard with it, stuck it in the shed.

Next day I brought it out to look at my prize. It was damp, had some white rot fungus on it. Peeling back some of the bark confirmed its species. Back in the shed it went, to dry...

The first I've started with this wood, I'm not sure of yet -- but the second? One of the best I've done, so far...

Images when available.

Phil Smith
June 1st, 2007

_____

MOTHERSHIP NEW CHICAGO

2007-05-23T16:26:00.001Z

_____

MOTHERSHIP NEW CHICAGO

Jane hadn't been abducted, exactly. Things had been explained to her, after a fashion. She had known what she was getting into, sort of.

She looked around the main room, still unsure whether she should call this place her 'quarters' or her 'apartment'. Over on the desk were her MacBook and iPod, the two things she was most glad to have been allowed to bring along. One small bag, she had been told, and those had been stuffed into her backpack first.

There was a cover story Jane was supposed to keep using while in contact with friends in ‘Old’ Chicago and elsewhere on the surface, but her disdain for dishonesty kept her offline most of the time and caused a shortage of details in her instant messaging and e-mails. She was somewhat out-of-touch. Her blog page had been virtually abandoned.

Maybe it was time for a new blog. The mental question was sent out, and the immediate answer was yes, as though they had been waiting for her to ask. Maybe it was to be one of her duties all along. Jane couldn’t be sure.

In the background of that answer were what could be referred to as a set of instructions. Jane immediately sat down at her computer and created a new Google account to work from, then went to Blogger and began to compose her first post to the Mothership New Chicago blog, calling up a playlist after deciding on a title. With some of her favourite music to keep her company, she was soon finished. Then she asked another mental question and contacted the half-dozen other Earth Humans on board, inviting them to become contributors and alerting them to her alternate address.

It was nice, after three months, to be able to honestly share some of her experiences. Her only complaint, really, about life aboard the mothership was the veil of secrecy. Who would believe her, even if she were to try to tell them?

As the replicator produced a flip-top bottle of Grolsch at her request, Jane asked another question. Yes, there were three, but only three, of her previous contacts that she could e-mail with her alternate Gmail address and new blog URL. The replicator had to produce another pint before that message was complete, but it was soon sent...

...and then they would know. Meanwhile she had gotten responses from a couple of her shipmates, who both wanted in on the blog action. Awesome, but then she had to arrange for them to do so while her buzz intensified. No big deal, done and done.

With the absence of a proper day/night cycle, Jane’s body clock had set her on a 30-hour day -- twenty hours awake, ten hours of sleep. She’d had to check her computer clock for Chicago time and date before publishing her blog post, and now realized her e-mail had been sent out at a crazy hour. She made a mental note to tell them about her new schedule in the next message, then rocked out to the sounds of her iPod docked into the incredible sound system her place had come with, losing track of how many Grolsch bottles she’d put in the sub-molecular recycling unit.

Ten hours of sleep are a big help when you’ve reached a point of near-oblivion with alcohol. As Jane made use of her alien-alloy lavatory, the details of the previous ‘night’ slowly came back to her. Showering could wait. Her replicator produced black Columbian coffee at the perfect temperature for drinking. She powered up her MacBook, signed in with her new account, and re-read her blog post.

This ‘morning’ was a good one, one to go down in the books. Virtual windows around her simulating a beautiful post-dawn, Jane cupped her mug lovingly and basked in the telepathic approval of the beings who had brought her here.

It was a wonderful moment.

Soon, the silent voices in Jane’s head began to speak again. Her role in upcoming events became more clear. She was compelled to message her shipmates again, to stress the responsibility they had all taken on with the blog. Her mug drained, Jane got up to get another and mulled things over.

She was here on Mothership New Chicago for more than one reason. To begin with, as a former resident of ‘Old’ Chicago she was expected to be a barometer for what Chicagoans would expect from an orbital (and incredibly mobile) version of their city. Also, with her telepathic abilities, she was expected to be a sort of ambassador between her people and the rest of Galactic Society. As it turned out, the blog she had just created was to be the first of many.

Soon Jane was online with the contacts she had been given from other motherships. She sent messages to New London, New New York, New Tokyo, on and on until the silent voices finally shut up about whom she ought to alert. Though the messages were all in English, all the recipients instantly understood. Within hours, pages in many languages were published, recounting the experiences of those involved and giving the people of Earth a taste of what was to come.

Breakfast. Brunch. Lunch. By teatime Jane’s inbox was full of messages containing links to new pages where people could learn about how Humanity was to enter into Galactic Society. As she went out to tour the robotic construction of New Chicago’s interior, Jane was filled with the unparalleled sense of accomplishment that can only come from the approval of an entire telepathic delegation of a more-advanced race.

Dinner? Forget dinner. Time to send out a telepathic invitation to the few other Human residents of New Chicago for a party. Might as well invite the Syrians too. Jane is told to move the event to a larger space, and a mothership connection ensues.

Fortunately, Jane has ample George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic available on iPod for this extraglobal celebration...

Phil Smith
May 23, 2007
Earth (just west of Appalachia)

_____

Phil of the Future

2007-05-17T03:26:00.000Z

Am I a 22nd Century man?

(For those of you blissfully unaware of cable television, there is a show on the Disney Channel with the same title as this post...)

Anyway yes, I do expect to live until the year 2114, so I will be a 22nd Century Man -- or if you entertain the idea that time is only linear from our current, limited perspective, maybe I already am.

Does this qualify me to perhaps be in some sort of contact with my future self, in order to lay down a few foolproof predictions? In a word, no. My writings on the future are merely based on my personal impressions of how things will go, extrapolations from the information I have at the moment...

While I find it quite annoying that people began to discuss the 2008 election even before November 2004 and have barely taken a break since, I can't help thinking about it myself. Never mind that I've never voted and don't plan to -- unless they bring up a vote to dissolve the Federal government. Looking at the candidates, and having gotten a better feel for the pulse of the American people, I have a prediction.

A prediction, I might add, that I made in November 2004; During an instant messaging session, or in an e-mail, can't remember which (nor to whom I was typing), I said, "looking forward to the Giuliani Presidency"...

It's not that I'll think he'll do the best job, or that I like him better than all the other candidates, but simply that I think he has the best chance of getting elected. It seemed inevitable 2 1/2 years ago.

I look for John Edwards to either win the Democratic primary or repeat his role as Dem VP candidate. As for Giuliani's running mate, I won't venture a guess at this point...

...But you know what I'd like to see? I think it would be only fair if the 'first loser' in the race got to be VP. Second place, second-in-command makes sense, yes? And then maybe the Prez and VP should take turns making Cabinet appointments, like team captains in dodgeball...

Next elections after 2008 will be in 2012, and since "the end of the world as we know it" is scheduled for the Winter Solstice (December 21st) 2012, it might not matter. Our next President -- or at least whomever holds office at that time -- will be the one to deal with it all. Perhaps Giuliani will gain reelection...

My thoughts on the future are many and varied. The above represents but a single aspect. If anyone out there has a question for me about the future, please leave it as a comment on this blog. If so inspired, I'll answer as a subject of the next post here...

Yours in time,

Phil Smith
May 17, 2007

PS Today is the 37th anniversary of the day Jim Cadle first flew the Flag of Earth...

http://www.setileague.org/general/whatflag.htm

_____

Who Needs 3 Blogs?

2007-05-01T08:00:00.000Z

The image above is a capture from the Pinzgauer factory video.

There's no denying it; The Pinzgauer 710K definitely played a part in the inspiration for EXOVAN (it's a 710M in the capture, but never mind that). Other vehicles that can be credited are: the Tesla Roadster, various extreme rock-crawlers and, believe it or not, Grave Digger...

Now to the question posed, "Who needs 3 blogs?" Well I'm sure lots of people feel they do, though a couple of years ago I myself would've thought it excessive. This one here was my first, and then my baby Unified Settlement / Nation of Earth needed its own, and now with the advent of a concept that just begs to be built, all of a sudden we have the Tellurian Motors blog as well.

Last night found me at work on my 3D CAD model of EXOVAN. I cropped screenshots and posted them along with some text. There are people out there who are excited for me, in that I've realized I AM an automotive designer and am now applying myself in that field as never before, so if nothing else the 3rd blog represents a link I can provide to them for updates (having 2 Google groups helps here as well). The main reason for the Tellurian Motors blog, however, is to give me a web* presence as a designer.

Now, if I want to contact someone in the business about one of my designs, I have a URL to direct them to. I can even provide a specific link to the post I'd like them to view. Suddenly, 3 blogs doesn't sound like too many.

By the way, I've decided to alter the EXOVAN concept a bit by moving the forward portal (a 2-part hatch, much like the ones on the sides, with drop-down pneumatic steps and a glass upper that slides electrically up between the body and exoframe) over toward the passenger side. This offset is meant to allow better visibility for the driver. As a welcome side-effect, EXOVAN becomes somewhat asymmetrical, adding to its outlandishness. Expect the next Tellurian Motors blog post to show this feature...

Phil Smith
May 1st, 2007

*I refuse to capitalize 'internet' and 'web'.

_____

Design of the Times

2007-04-14T01:23:00.000Z

All my life, I've been an automotive designer. In public school, no one ever encouraged me to pursue it as a career. Had I been encouraged, I might have lived a very different life thus far.

Just because I wasn't, and just because I didn't pursue it later, doesn't mean I'm not still an automotive designer. And, just because I do not hold a degree in Industrial Design, that doesn't mean I don't have the talent and passion for it.

There is nothing that holds my attention more than automotive design. I continue to think about it every day, and I continue to come up with new designs of my own. Can I be forgiven for not being interested in employment? The one thing I'm meant to do, I've been unable to. It's not an easy industry to crack your way into, now is it? And, at this point in my life, there's no way I'm going back to college.

HOWEVER.

However, having recently come to terms with this dilemma and realizing that I should make it a definite goal to get at least ONE of my designs built, I've come up with something new...

...and this latest design just happens to be something that a couple of companies may be interested in building -- and so, if I can present it to them well enough, I just may be able to finally break my way into the world of professional automotive design. Better late than never, right?

EXOVAN

It's a vehicle designed specifically for Mattracks -- rubber tracks made to replace wheels and tires on four-wheel-drive vehicles. To my knowledge, no one except the Mattracks company has built a vehicle with those tracks in mind -- the Gladiator. I actually didn't know about Mattracks' little TUV until after my own tracked utility vehicle concept had taken shape in my mind.

The other company I'd like to involve is Tesla Motors. They are demonstrating, with their Tesla Roadster, how well electric vehicles can perform. I understand they're working on a sedan, but haven't heard of anything for off-road.

It's important for EXOVAN to be electric -- I've given up on internal combustion for new vehicles (though not, it must be said, for customs and hot rods I'd like to build). The Brubeck twin-engined sports car (conceived while listening to Dave Brubeck albums on vinyl) may be the last of my designs to use internal combustion. The future is electric, and Tesla Motors is leading the, um, charge.

My concept is called EXOVAN because it's a van with its frame on the outside. For me, and for this vehicle, the term 'exoskeletal frame' is shortened to 'exoframe', and it's more than a rollcage added to the outside of a rock crawler's sheetmetal. Any serious off-roader can expect a certain amount of body damage -- this vehicle is designed with its frame on the outside to minimize such damage while avoiding the extra weight of a body-on-frame or unibody with an external rollcage added on.

The name also refers to the outside, as in 'the great outdoors' and/or 'outside the realm of experience'. Photovoltaic panels in the roof may offer only a very slow charge, but a properly outfitted EXOVAN could theoretically travel far into the wilderness, having been charged perhaps at home but returning on power harvested from the Sun -- or for that matter travelling a great distance without once having its charging port opened.

One area in which the Tesla Roadster excels is in its range -- up to 250 miles per charge. For this and many other reasons, you can see why Tesla Motors is the company I want to deal with.

And what about the other company, Mattracks? Just take a look at the videos presented on their site. Vehicles can do astonishing things when their wheels are replaced with Mattracks. Plus, they look really cool...

This vehicle represents a real challenge, as there are two distinct layers of exterior design. I intend for the exoframe to stand on its own (which will be a good thing, as one version of EXOVAN has no body at all, open to the air for the dunes) with sweeping curves of tubular steel -- while the body, in stark contrast, will be comprised of flat glass and flat aluminum panels, and flat solar panels. Now that I think of it, the open version will have the option of some roofing, in the form of those solar panels.

I had indeed worked up a preliminary sketch of a flat-panel van with Mattracks before, and not too long ago. It made me think of a van design I used to draw way back in the 8th grade, and it was yet another thing I'd like to see and own and drive -- but it didn't have the cachet of the EXOVAN.

Since it IS a van, EXOVAN can be built in any number of configurations. It can be an ambulance, a party car, a small camper, or a cargo hauler. Anything you want. And, it can go anywhere (if relatively slowly, since Mattracks can't take sustained highway speeds). The layout I keep thinking of, though, is 8 seats with the rear 6 on swivels, packed to the rafters with electronics.

At least 2 more companies can be brought in on the project, those being Skyjacker for the suspension and Rhino Linings for the tough coating (in any colour) that the exoframe should have.

This is a vehicle that should be the star of SEMA and gain attention at many other auto shows, attention that will be beneficial for any company involved.

It is a vehicle for these times, the early 21st Century. It is the very model of mobility and eco-friendliness (one thing about Mattracks, by the way, is that they scar the landscape much less than tires do).

I've got much work ahead, doing pencil sketches to scan and manipulate with a few graphics programs before I actually approach Tesla Motors and Mattracks. An image or two may show up here on this blog before I send them anything at all.

It won't be for everyone -- no vehicle is -- but if I'm right about it, it will damn well get built and cause a minor sensation. If it ever reaches (limited) production, my guess is that each example will go for somewhere over $100,000 and be greatly prized by each and every owner.

It's up to me to turn this dream into a reality. I've left a few details out of this blog post, partially because of the time it would take to describe them. EXOVAN may not be the best design I've come up with, but it's the ONE that will get me noticed as a designer.

Slacker I may be, but this is my life. Automotive design is one thing I truly care about, and this is (finally) my chance to make a contribution.

This is something I feel strongly about, something I have to pursue. Someday I'll be designing flying saucers, but EXOVAN is the thing that will have people asking me to pen those space yachts for them.

Nation of Earth? Will anyone ever credit me for thinking of something that is inevitable? Do I even THINK of being credited for things? No, I only want to CREATE, which in the world of automotive design is not an easy thing to do. I've built furniture of my own design, which was immensely rewarding in its own right, though a few projects got left undone. Over the decades I've drawn countless automotive designs, but only several furniture designs.

Automotive design is my passion. Maybe, just maybe, I've come up with something that someone else will care enough about to build. I was barely able to build wooden furniture of my own design -- no way I could construct an entire VEHICLE myself.

This is it, this is my chance. Wish me luck.

Phil Smith
April Fourteenth, Twenty-Oh-Seven

_____

The Great Indoors

2007-03-30T19:22:00.001Z

_____

Lately (and again) I find myself guilty of escapism.

There are e-mails from caring friends that I've left unopened, but I can tell from what I see of them in my inbox that they're in the category of small bright things in this dark dark world -- and not wanting to be reminded of the dark dark world, I just don't want to look.

Instead I visit other realms, chief among them The Sims 2 for PC and Gran Turismo 4 on PlayStation 2. While I'm playing God, creating and controlling Sim-ulated people, and when I'm racing cars I could never afford in events I could never attend, I can forget...

Forget about politics and the politicians themselves. Forget about what capitalism has done to this world. Forget how hard it seems it will be to fix everything. Forget that a major part of the problem is the LCD, lowest common demonitator of human intelligence -- I keep having to remind myself that the majority don't have the capacity to think for themselves, and that's seriously depressing...

No, I disable my connection and load the disk, or in another room I insert a different disk and grab the controller. Hours of fun can be had.

Should I feel guilty? Oughtn't I be out in the world (or at least online) trying to make a difference? Or am I merely preparing myself for a future in which gaming is how we occupy our minds, when everything is running smoothly so long as we're all in our respective saucers in orbit and not down on the planet damaging the ecosystem?

My son coined a new term: "disencouraging". To me it means, instead of a youthful alternative to "discouraging", a negative effect on the ability to be encouraged. This, to my mind, puts a mirror up to the state of Humanity. There is so much to put us DOWN that it's hard to see the UPside of things.

Upside is, once the technology is available we'll all be doing as we please, without ecological impact. We will have left the planet, orbiting or zooming off somewhere in everything from motherships to space yachts. Everything we could need or want will be either replicated or simulated. Work? Computers and robotics will take care of all the actual work, except where we want to do it ourselves, and except for those of us who wish to maintain the computers and robotics or get our hands dirty doing things they could take care of.

There will be room for a segment of the population to live like the Amish or similar agrarian societies, because we as a species need to keep in touch with the skills necessary to flourish without advanced technology, should advanced technology fail.

Meanwhile our personal environments will be as fantastic as we want, or as realistic as we want, or actually real -- and even our real environments can be rich with objects either salvaged or replicated, or even brought to existence out of our own original thoughts. Good thing, too -- because the preservation of this planet (and therefore the survival of our species) demands our removal. Cooped up in a flying Winnebago or in quarters aboard a floating city, we'll need to be able to entertain ourselves...

Which reminds me: Another escape I have is writing an as-yet-untitled science fiction short about a man who has spent ten years alone in space...

Phil Smith
March 23 + 30, Twenty-Oh-Seven
_____

A Slacker Looks at 40

2007-03-24T04:33:00.000Z

Faded Memory:
Me at 23 or 24, looking toward the future.

Procrastinator?  That's what I used to call myself;  The public school system labelled me an "underachiever", which must be a "politically correct" term for SLACKER.

I meant to write this post before I turned 40 -- I'm about 3 months behind, so there you go.  SLACKER.

What did I think my life would be like at 40?  Didn't think about it, didn't set any goals.  So I sit here in my Hawaiian shirt with a week's worth of stubble, idly musing -- and generally happy.

They say stress is a factor in male pattern baldness.  My already-high hairline has receded a bit, and I can tell things are getting a bit thin up there, but I've hung on to much more of it than any of my brothers had when each of them were my age.  I've got some grey, but who cares?

From my last post, you can see what I've been up to.  I've also got a spoon in front of me that I began carving about a year ago.  Now that it's Spring (I carve outside) I'll be getting back to that -- when I feel like it.

Stress is bullshit.  I don't give in to it.  That ends up pissing a lot of people off...

SLACKER.

A century from now, expect my autobiography:  A Slacker Looks at 140.  Margaritas will be served at the launch party.

Phil Smith
March 30, Twenty-Oh-Seven
(despite what the timestamp might say)
_____

Tat-Tuesday

2007-01-20T03:39:00.000Z

Scott Lure is purported to be the best tattoo artist in the Mid-Ohio Valley. Since I've only had the one tattoo done, I have no reference for comparison. HOWEVER... If my experience is anything to go by, I'd say that's a fair assessment.

LURE TATTOOING AND PIERCING

He said it would feel something like a scrape or a sunburn for a while afterward, which it does -- somewhere in between those two. The process itself wasn't as painful as one imagines. Now, three days later, there is still healing to do, but thanks to liberal use of a salve called Tattoo Goo it's coming along quite nicely.

It was very odd to have a perfect rectangle of swelling on my shoulder, and it still sorta looks like something temporary, but I could tell when only about half of the black was done that it was going to look awesome -- and, it does. I guess I hadn't been able to imagine quite how it would appear, and so it exceeds any expectations I might have had.

I can tell it's going to peel soon, and the colours still aren't what they will be after that top layer of skin with blood in it has shed (the yellow is more orange than it will be, and the white is still dull and pinkish), so I won't try to photograph it just yet. I'll post a photo here soon.

As for the white band on my right arm for Arms Against War, it'll have to wait -- and then I might have to start with a thin black outline of it, as my skin is pretty white already. Time will tell, but as anyone who's been inked will tell you, tattoos can be addictive. This Flag of Earth on my shoulder may be my first, but it won't be my ONLY tattoo forever...

Phil Smith
January 19th, 2007

___

The Lure of Ink

2007-01-11T21:44:00.000Z

Today (which would have been my father's 72nd birthday) I finally went to the Lure website, called their number, and then sent them an e-mail.

http://www.luretattoo.com/

They used to be located just around the corner from me, and if they hadn't moved I might already have one if not both of the tats I've been wanting for months (and months and months, for the first one). I'll be entering another zip code, a drive that will take longer than my walk would've, but Lure is still my choice.

In a week I'll be turning 40, and I'm determined to have at least the Flag of Earth inked on my left shoulder by then. If I can get the white band around my right bicep (for Arms Against War) done within that time frame also, I'll be very happy.

An update will follow, with photos if possible.

I can almost feel them already, such is my anticipation...

Phil Smith
January 11th, 2007

___

Return of the Grey Ghost

2006-11-30T09:41:00.000Z

__

Got an e-mail today about an upgrade to a forum I'd almost completely forgotten I'd joined. My old Toyota Cressida is now officially a 'classic', and it's a damned shame it's had to sit for almost 2 years, shortly after sitting for about 5 before I acquired it.

Here's a link to my first post at the new Toyota Cressida Forums: http://forums.toyotacressida.net/forums/showthread.php?p=135031#post135031

Phil Smith
November 30th, 2006
__

things tend to continue

2006-08-12T05:45:00.000Z

things tend to continue
(a body in motion tends to stay in motion)
(a body at rest tends to stay at rest)

Yep, I'm still a slacker -- or at the very least, an extreme procrastinator...

Then again, there are many interests pulling me in different directions...

...and that's the real problem.

However the Nation of Earth vision still stands, and I will (I promise) be posting again soon @
http://unifiedsettlement.blogspot.com/

Seriously.

Phil Smith

August 12, 2006

Dreamer

2006-06-19T22:38:00.000Z

____________

What would you do if you won the lottery?

Some people ask that question to gauge character. I don't give a shit about that. I've always been a dreamer, finding fun ways to occupy my imagination. Some people like to keep their hands busy -- for me, it's my mind that always needs something to do...

...and the question of how to spend a sudden massive windfall is a fun problem to solve.

Many would just go crazy, buying all kinds of expensive stuff and partying until they soberly realize they'll have to sell most of it just to survive. Others (inexplicably) stay on at their jobs and try to pretend nothing happened. Sure, you need to provide for your future, but those people are occupying jobs they don't need, while too many go unemployed.

Those of you who know me well enough already know what's important to me. You can guess that I would spend time & money to further the cause of the Nation of Earth -- but you might also (correctly) guess that I could quickly amass an automotive collection more impressive than Jay Leno's, if I only had the resources.

Of course, not all lottery winnings are equal, and since the first thing I would do is get a divorce, whatever I might get would quickly be cut in half. The problem to solve now becomes, "What would I do with a large but LIMITED amount of money?"

The second thing to do is acquire some land -- because one of my dreams is to design and build my own place, on substantial acreage. The main building would not be a mansion, but more like a lodge -- because a small intentional community needs a center. New millionaires like to surround themselves with friends, and we would all certainly be living a good life, but there would be a lot of (satisfying) work to do. I'd like Airstream trailers for temporary on-site housing (one benefit of this is that people would be able to utter the phrase "I'll be in my trailer", just like movie stars), but RVs from other manufacturers would be considered.

The first building would be a steel structure, because they go up quickly. It would be used for a woodshop, and to store construction materials & equipment, and used for a garage later. There's no telling how long the lodge would take to build. Small cabins might be built -- they would give me something to practice on, for one thing.

Vehicles? There's a 1951 International pickup on a local lot that I've had my eye on, and I've wanted a Honda Ridgeline since they were introduced, but I don't even want to think about a possible collection right now. If I were to compile a wish list, I could go on for days...

In fact if I didn't have the Nation of Earth and my intentional community to think about, cars & trucks would probably be my main focus. In any case, one of the best things about such newfound wealth would be that I could finally build vehicles of my own design, and have my own private test course for them.

Yes, of COURSE I would travel, and of course I would help my family and friends. Charity? The Nation of Earth is my philanthropic measure -- perhaps it will include an organization that people can contribute to and volunteer for...

...but I would still be found in Levi's and Flag of Earth T-shirts most of the time -- and NOT along with a diamond-encrusted watch. I don't even WEAR a watch...

To sum it up, I wouldn't spend just to spend. I would spend CREATIVELY, and spend for the future -- mine, and Earth's.

Phil Smith
June 19, 2006

_____________

spam

2005-12-28T15:25:00.000Z

___

It's amazing.

The spam I receive in my e-mail, every bit of it, is for things I do not need and will never buy.

One of those 2 things is software. I'm a Linux user, which means there is no application I'll need that I'll ever have to pay for. Games? Maybe -- but I don't get spam advertising games.

The other is a pharmaceutical product that I've been assured is completely unnecessary, and which I'd rather not mention.

I guess I should treat spam just like the junk mail that the postal service delivers...

...but unlike junk mail, spam can't be bundled up and burned in a woodstove.

The South Park Connection

2005-12-27T06:15:00.000Z

__________________

[Blogger's note 03_21_07: I've come close to deleting this post on several occasions, but it DOES offer a sideways glance into my mind -- as it was at the time. I look back now and see that when I've gone off the deep end, so to speak, it's been when I've placed blind faith in something...]
__________________

Comedy Central's South Park, a stop-motion animation cartoon using construction paper cutouts, is as inspiring to some as it is offensive to others. One thing that bugs me about it is that the character named Kenny gets killed in, as far as I know, EVERY SINGLE episode.

“Oh my God! They Killed Kenny!”

“Bastards!”

As it happens, my late father's name is Kenneth Deane Smith (AKA 'Kenny' or 'Smitty'), and I came to the realization within the past couple of years that his death was quite likely not a natural one. He was an electrical engineer working for the military contracting arm of Westinghouse in the 1960s. There was a certain circuit that caused trouble with the Minuteman missiles in which it was installed, as it was outputting more energy that was put into it and blowing out other circuitry down the line. http://www.cheniere.org/misc/minuteman.htm (scroll down past the references for the remainder of that article)

Dad's life went quickly downhill somewhere around 1970. We, his family, up and left him in 1971. He was given an 'experimental anti-alcoholism drug' that resulted in severe neurological damage, rendering him officially (and permanently) 'disabled'. He was in our lives somewhat, but had a palsy and slurred speech, which sort of made him appear drunk even when he was not.

Since his death, Dad and I have been closer than we ever got a chance to be during his sad and tortured life. I think his greatest regret was that he never got to know me, his youngest son. I feel that he is here with me right now, approving of this post as I write it...

Also, I feel he has helped me to connect with certain people over the 'internets', especially the dowser whom I have had several revealing sessions with, and whom Dad used to work with. My intuition (perhaps fed by Dad's knowledge) and the unusual questions I pose, plus my dowsing friend's answers and his questions that fill in the gaps, result in some astounding revelations.

Sometimes we get sidetracked into tangents that seem silly at first, which then turn into evidence that truth is very very much stranger than fiction. These are wild stories that no one would ever believe – yet there they are. They unfold quickly and with much detail. There is no reason for them to exist except to reveal secrets – BIG secrets.

To make a long story short, we found out that South Park is a show with a target audience of exactly one – ME. I thought he was joking, but he was dead serious. Apparently Trey Parker and Matt Stone were given the opportunity to air their show only if a few conditions were met, among them creating a character named Kenny that would get killed in every episode. [Bastards.]

In case you were wondering, the character of Philip is also a jab at me, though I have no idea who Terence is supposed to represent.

Now of course you are asking what makes me so important, that someone would go to so much trouble just to cause me a slight amount of consternation.

Perhaps there is some shadowy group within the tentacles of would-be world-dominating powers that recognize that I'm a threat to their plans.

I have a vision of a future wherein war has become a thing of the past and people are finally free from government oppression. I share that vision with anyone who will listen. I've recognized my mission in life, and it is to work toward full disclosure of the secrets 'they' have been keeping, and to show the way toward dissolution of government.

DISREGARD THE ILLUSION – THE SOLUTION IS DISSOLUTION

I've founded a global nation for this purpose, and adopted a powerful symbol – the Flag of Earth – for that nation, the Unified Settlement.

Dad was not only involved with that overunity circuit – he designed it, using knowledge gained during a secret government project. I'm sure it pissed 'them' off when he regained that particular bit of his supposedly 'erased' memory. When he wouldn't stop trying to share his knowledge, 'they' poisoned him with a dose of radiation and finished him off with another dose of it in a Veteran's Administration hospital, making it look like lung cancer.

I was one of the people he showed his circuit to. At the time, I had no knowledge of electronics whatsoever – he had to explain to me what a DIODE was, for Pete's sake (a one-way gate) – so all I ever knew about it was that it was IMPORTANT, until my own research into 'free' energy led me to that page on Tom Bearden's site, and I began to connect the dots.

If we'd had more time to spend together, I'm sure he could have taught me how to build circuits like the one he showed me – and then I would most definitely have been a major target, and would probably not be sitting here right now.

I can't reproduce that circuit, but I know people who can... Understand, this is 'forbidden' technology.

I actually enjoy South Park and recommend Parker & Stone's puppet movie, Team America: World Police. Maybe 'they' thought I would latch onto the whole Kenny thing and self-destruct in a cloud of half-baked conspiracy theory. Maybe they thought the show would be instrumental in driving me stark raving mad. Perhaps 'they' hoped I would be committed to a mental institution, where I could be closely monitored and drugged into a drooling stupor.

No such luck. Anything 'they' attempt against me will backfire.

Am I really that important? I don't think so, but I know that my WORK is.

I would like to thank everyone who lends their support to the movement, and everyone who shares my vision. Our future is much brighter than most would have us believe.

Phil Smith

December 27, 2005

Redirection

2005-12-12T04:13:00.000Z

____________

Since shortly after the demise of the Unified Settlement website, I've been writing for a new blog, Nation of Earth.

As the novel Starliner is set in the near future, recent developments keep making me rethink the story. I've put it on hold for now, but may soon publish a couple of the chapters that have been gathering virtual dust here soon.

Meanwhile, 'their' efforts against me have only spurred me on to create incendiary posts for the Unified Settlement blog -- and this is where my creative energy is being spent these days.

In other news, a Miss Unified Settlement has been crowned, and I hope to meet her later in the week. It's a long story. Stay tuned for future posts on that subject.

Oh yeah, and I'm now officially an anarchist...

_______

PRELUDE (not a Honda)

2005-06-14T07:13:00.000Z

Here on the western edge there was no one, not a soul. There the car sat, on the rise, in the middle of this curve in the track.

But what track was this? Where had he gotten the unfamiliar helmet hanging from his left hand -- and the car, was that really...?

Yes, it was. Great Googly-Moogly, it was. Lines more impossibly crisp than anything else out there, unfinished brushed aluminum gleaming in the not-quite sun. The Brubeck. The car Max had designed and...

...but he hadn't finished building it yet. This couldn't be.

This could only mean Max was dreaming, and that this was one of those tenuous moments where he realized he was dreaming -- which meant he could do anything he wanted, as long as he didn't let it slip away.

He looked around. Hills with trees. No yellow or white lines painted on the edges of the track, and no red-and-white berms on the insides of the corners. A nice bit of architecture -- a house -- at the end of a driveway that met with the track.

Okay, that's pretty interesting, Max thought. Yet, he'd better not dwell on it, or he'd lose control and this would no longer be a lucid dream. What do I want?

I want to drive that car... was the answer. Funny -- that thing has been in my daydreams for years. It's less than half finished, on my garage floor... And yet there it was, even better than he had pictured it. Its otherworldliness extended beyond the fact that it was part of a dream.

In an instant he was behind the wheel, only vaguely aware of the experience of donning his helmet, opening the door, and climbing in. His right hand hovered over two red START buttons. There was no key, as he knew there wouldn't be. Max pushed the left one in, lightly pressing the left throttle pedal down. 1000cc's of motorcycle engine barked to life, belching propane exhaust out the upper pair of pipes in the tail.

Max played with that throttle a bit, then eased his foot over to the right and pressed the other START button. Another thousand cubic centimeters of motorcycle engine came on, exhausting through the lower pair of quad pipes out back...

Just as it should be.

He rocked his right foot back and forth over the thin twin accelerators, playing motorcycle music from behind the wheel of a sports car.

His car. Not just a car he'd bought, not merely one he'd meticulously rebuilt and modified, but one he'd designed and built from the ground up.

Just as it should be.

He engaged twin clutches and the Brubeck jerked a bit -- but neither engine stalled and he was on his way. Down the short straight into a decreasing-radius bend that took him back uphill into gentle esses -- but just as he passed the unlikely driveway Max realized he'd forgotten to fasten his belts...

...and the dream was over. He was awake -- but not before finding himself out of the car, standing at the entrance of that driveway, peering toward the house.

That image was the one he woke with. His mind was too foggy to be sure he'd been driving his Brubeck, and he had no idea the dream would be the cause of a serious case of deja vu while scrambling to fasten his belts, foot off the throttles in 3rd gear, on a secret track in the middle of nowhere, months later.

In the Garage

2005-05-18T17:33:00.000Z

Readers, dear readers...

The process of coming up with a novel, as with any creative endeavour, is as individual as the writer. As it happens, I possess very little training in any area beyond my own self-education...

...and so, on any given project, I take my own approach. I haven't read any manuals on the craft, haven't taken any classes since I attended WVU, nearly 20 years ago -- and the few short-short stories I wrote back then (for Creative Writing, and for Science Fiction As Literature, or whatever it was called) represented the extent of my literary work (unless you count the abandoned, disjointed, roughly illustrated Spaceman Smith stuff I began in the Army) until I was inspired to hack out BROADCAST and AIRWAVES, both found on these pages.

For Starliner, a much larger and more daunting project, there came a point where I had to simply jump in and start writing. Sure, I knew anything I put on the page was going to be subject to revision or deletion -- the question was, how much time and effort would be wasted?

When my computer crashed, I was saved from the fate of plodding down a temporary plotline. Given a bit of distance, I began to revise, expand, and flesh out the story, if only in my mind. Every day I dream up something new -- and so it has seemed imprudent to actually write anything. After all, what's the point if I just have to go back and change this, rewrite that, and throw out the other?

However, the time has indeed finally come for me to 'get my hands dirty' once again, as story elements have begun to sprout scenes, settings, new characters, and dialogue, all tenuously floating about in my head.

Max and Bob are going to have to spend more time at Max's place, so that Bob (and we) can take a look at Max's small but extraordinary collection -- which includes his own kustom kreations and one krazy (but tasteful -- and tasty) hot rod built by his late father -- before hitting the road, and then Max will have to spend a night or two at their destination.

Max's garage is filled with a few of my own vehicular fantasies, and it will take him some time to show Bob their features. As Bob is a certified gearhead himself, it makes no sense for him to whisk Max away without first checking out the machinery.

We may also do away with the extensive list of rolling stock to be added to Bob's clients' collection. Instead, he is given an inventory of it along with a short wish list, and will be asked his opinion on what may be missing... Good thing the diner serves breakfast all day.

And so, you see I'm going to have to go back to the beginning. I think the changes will mostly be insertions, though, not outright revisions.

Back to the drawing board!

The Day After Yesterday

2005-04-12T05:46:00.000Z

The Day After Yesterday is the name of the novel Miles has written in the movie Sideways. If it is to ever be published, however, it will be with the help of his friend Jack -- the publishers just won't take the risk...

I've just finished watching Sideways, along with all the special features -- an excellent film, and one, as a budding novelist, that gives me pause...

Of course, I can't let anything like that get to me. I KNOW it's a cutthroat world out there, and that it's not easy to get published as an unknown author. WHAT THE FUCK EVER. This novel is in my head, and has been for some time, and it has to get out.

It's been a while since I've committed anything to the page, but even though my big excuse for that was a computer crash, can I say the interruption derailed the project completely? NO! The story keeps developing in my head, and soon I'll get back to it.

Apologies to those who were hoping to read more soon. As with any project, I feel it's best to work on it only when I'm inspired...

...and I feel the inspiration coming on -- so, patience, please...

STARLINER, Chapters One and Two

2005-03-08T05:36:00.000Z

Yep, these chapters are short. Chapters, like paragraphs, can be of just about any length, right? Right. In any case, this is what I have so far, and y'all are free to read away as I drink more Columbian coffee and jump into writing the next chapter, which I think will be longer than five pages. Fasten seatbelts... (and bear in mind that this is still a first draft, subject to revision)

IGNITION ON

Out in the middle of nowhere in the high hills and low mountains of West Virginia, there is something utterly remarkable and as absolutely right as it is totally out of place. It is something that a relative few people gave a good deal of effort to create.

Elsewhere in the Appalachians, where the Potomac forms the border between Maryland and the eastern panhandle of West Virginia, a relatively young man lives and works in a century-old brick building overlooking the river. His late father wasn't nearly as into cars as he is, but still managed to name his son after a V8 engine.

This is the story of part of the life of Max Wedge. We will begin with the morning of the arrival of a special vehicle, and follow Max's journey from there. Sure, his life has been fairly interesting up to this point, but it is about to get much more eventful and more wonderfully strange than his most pleasant dreams...

TURNING THE KEY

Several late nights in a row had led to an all-nighter, after which Max had given up, showered, and gone to bed shortly after dark. Now here he was, up much earlier than usual and not sure what day it was or what to do with himself.

A splash of cold water to the face, clean jeans and T-shirt, steel-toed workboots and a warm coat -- out the door on a cold March morning to the corner store, as there were not enough grounds left in the coffee can to brew a pot (When did they stop putting scoops in?) and only two cigarettes left in his last pack.

Max liked this little town, liked being able to walk a short block to a family-owned place that was once a general store, where they never stopped carrying all the little things that people needed or liked to have. He crossed in the middle of the street without looking, because it was quiet enough to hear traffic coming from a good distance.

The stack of papers on the counter told him it was a Monday, which seemed about right, he guessed. The girl at the register looked much less ready to face the day than he felt, didn't ask why only one pack instead of his usual carton. He was glad not to have to explain how he was planning to switch to organic tobacco, and didn't mention that this was the last can of the Columbian coffee he'd asked them to stock -- he'd just remind the owner next time the old guy was in.

On the way home, dawn was just a bit more evident, a bit more bluish light making the fog glow, a bit more sparkle to the frost.

Upstairs in the kitchen, a heavy sigh as he spooned (Why had they stopped including scoops with coffee?) both fresh and not-so-fresh grounds into the last filter. It was always something, wasn't it? While the rich aroma began to waft about, Max walked over to his desk, started his computer. He found no new e-mail, shrugged his eyebrows, got back up and poured a cup, decided to watch the sunrise while he sipped.

The spot he chose to do this from was back downstairs, in his shop. Cocking his head to see past the steam his coffee put on the garage door window, Max played a game he used to share with his father. His brow furrowed, however, as this approaching pair of headlights and acompanying silhouette didn't match any 'headlight signature' in his mental database.

Now, this was really saying something, because Max had spent his life around cars, both up close and in magazines, compiling a rich compendium of automotive knowledge that served him well as a broker of collectible cars. Maybe he just wasn't awake enough yet, he thought, and gulped the rest of the mug down.

"You win this time, Dad," he muttered as the '53 Studebaker cruised up and pulled into the small lot in front of his building. Setting his cup on a shelf, Max thanked himself for placing the coatrack he'd made from exhaust header mistakes near the door.

Still, with the haste he was making to get a closer look at the Stude, the cold morning air got a good chance to bite one of his bare arms as he flailed into his coat.

Blue. A nice, soft, light blue, matching the original colour perfectly, as did the much darker shade of the same hue on the roof -- but in a pearly suede instead of the simple gloss finish from five decades ago.

A deep, mellow rumble which could only be a 'nailhead' Buick V8. Interesting choice, Max thought, as his eyes found actual magnesium wheels (Halibrands), bumpers without guards, and curiously enough, headlight dagmars, clear bullet-shaped covers that matched the half-dozen custom bullets in the grille. Max had seen a few Starliners in his day, but most of them were either bone-stock or mercilessly modified into drag cars. This was a tastefully done mild custom, its sleek, low lines undisturbed. Just about perfect.

Twenty seconds or so was plenty of time to survey the vehicle, and for its driver to put the transmission in Park and shut the engine down. The click of Max's Zippo as he lit the day's first Camel, fished from the near-empty pack he'd slipped in his coat pocket before heading out earlier, coincided with the much, much smoother sound of the Starliner's door mechanism. A large pair of black wingtips met the pavement, and a tall, silver-haired man in a grey suit and black overcoat angled himself up out of the low-slung Stude.

"Nice car," Max said, high praise coming from him, even if he felt he was stating the obvious. The man smiled.

"Glad you like it," the man replied, closing the door with a gentle click. They both stood admiring it for a moment, as the fog began to clear in the morning sun. Then he turned, offered his hand, and said "Bob."

"Max." Firm, brief handshake. "Coffee?"

"Why not?" Bob countered, but still they stood there, hands in pockets, listening to the slow ticking of the cooling V8 and gazing at the car for another moment, despite the cold, until Max finally took one last drag off his cigarette, tossed it in the iced-over sand bucket by the door, and, with a shiver, waved his visitor in.

Max watched as Bob hung his overcoat on the exhaust pipe coatrack, to see whether he would react to it as others did, but Bob appeared to merely acknowledge it. Instead, what drew his attention was the work in progress in the middle of the shop floor. Both men walked over to it, Max stealing sideways glances at Bob's face as his eyes scanned the square tubing, fully independent suspension, and dual motorcycle engines.

Just as they had done a moment before, however, the two merely stood in silence, gazing, without a comment from either of them. After a bit, they both looked up from it and headed to the stairs. Max led the way to his balcony office, gestured toward a chair, and ducked into his kitchen for the coffee. He'd left his mug down by the door, on that shelf (dammit) but managed to find two more clean ones.

He set one mug in front of Bob on the desk, without having asked whether he took cream or sugar. This was not an oversight, but a test. Max had guessed right, it turned out, that Bob took his coffee black. He just picked it up and sat there, legs crossed, warming his hands with it as Max took his seat and slid his laptop aside.

"I suppose you're wondering what brings me here, so early and unannounced," he said, drawing the steaming brew up to his face.

"Now that you mention it, I guess so," Max replied, "though anyone driving a car like that is always welcome. A '53 Starliner, right?"

"Exactly right. Quite perceptive of you, Mr. Wedge. I know, I know," he continued, as Max held a hand up and began to correct him, "you prefer 'Max'. I've gone to certain lengths to find the right broker for my clients, so I already know a bit about you -- enough to know you're the man for the job."

"Okay then." This was an odd morning, Max thought, but business had been slow and he wasn't about to object to the prospect of moving a few cars. He pulled his laptop back over and opened up a new file, fingers at the ready. "What can I find for you?"

But Bob was holding out a disk. "The list is on here." Max accepted it and slid it into the drive. "Before you go over it, let me tell you -- it's extensive. My clients are putting together a collection, one that should take a few months to complete."

"Okay then," Max said again, smiling. "You do understand that I review each vehicle's history, to make sure I'm not trafficking in stolen goods? Of course you do," he added, taking another sip, "As you said -- you know a bit about me." He put his mug down and stood. "Excuse me for a moment." Coffee being a very effective diuretic, Max suddenly felt a semi-urgent need that would allow him a moment to collect his thoughts.

At the urinal (one advantage, for a man at least, to living in a converted warehouse, small as it may be) he could tell he wasn't still dreaming. This was, indeed, his own bathroom. He hadn't had any trouble finding it, none of the fixtures were overflowing, and there wasn't a pictogram on the door indicating the other sex. No one walked in on him, either. His image in the mirror was quite clear and all too real as cold water ran over his hands. Nope, not a dream.

Back at his desk, he saw that Bob had drunk half the mug and set it back down, precisely where Max had put it a few minutes ago. "You were saying?"

"Go ahead and take a look at the list. I'll wait."

"Okay then." As promised, it was an extensive list, suitable for an impressive collection. "Some of these may be a bit difficult to acquire... but then I see that many of them are fairly common, if not here in the States... Looks like someone has done his homework."

Another slight smile from Bob. "We have a modest collection as it is, if you see any gaps in the list. Perhaps you would like to see it for yourself?" Somehow this stranger, from some strange land as far as Max knew, seemed to be aware of just how slow things had been.

"Sure. I don't suppose you have it in a photo gallery, on a website?" No, Max didn't suppose that at all.

"No, but it's not far. We could be there by noon, and you could be back by dark." Bob didn't say that he meant today, but that's what Max inferred, somewhat uncomfortably. There was something about this man's ease that made one uneasy. He was a bit too familiar, too assuming, but at the same time completely non-threatening, and this whole thing was moving way to quickly.

Yet there was no reason other than distrust not to go along with it, and Max could see no reason not to trust this mysterious representative of his new, even more mysterious clients. "Okay then," he said for the fourth time, starting to feel like a broken record, and not the kind one might witness at the Bonneville Salt Flats -- though at the speed these dealings were progressing, Max half expected to hear a sonic boom at any moment.

All he heard, though, was a stomach grumble, telling him that breakfast would not be a bad idea. "There's a diner up the street. Mind if we continue our conversation there?"

"Not at all."

Eggs over medium, buttered toast, and sausage links were soon placed on the table at Max's favourite booth, along with four glasses of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Apparently, Bob wasn't hungry. Either that, or there was nothing on the menu that he would allow himself to eat. "Just the juice for me, two glasses please," was all he said after the waitress, with a wink, rattled off Max's usual.

Bob gave him a few details, among the small amount of small talk, answering pertinent questions that Max found he didn't have to ask. Subjects such as payment arrangements and other incidentals were covered, and after Maximillian Oscar Wedge learned that he was to deliver the vehicles personally, which is why Bob wanted him to visit the collection's location, one last detail almost made him choke on his juice.

"As part of your advance, if you like, we can include the Starliner." Bob revealed this very matter-of-factly, as though it were a completely normal thing for someone who was amassing a collection to give what could be considered an important part of it away. "If you decide to accept it, that will simplify our transportation for the day."

"You mean, we both drive down there, we transfer the title, and then I drive it home?" Max considered this. That Studebaker was a damned nice ride, he had to admit, and would be a welcome addition to his own small collection. "...and the trip down can be a sort of test drive?"

There was that slight smile again. "Is today good for you?"

[ ...It has occured to me, that by living out certain daydreams in the novel and sharing the chapters as they are completed here, I may be giving readers a better 'sideways glance into the mind of Phil Smith' than I could otherwise... ]

AIRWAVES

2005-03-08T05:30:00.000Z

AIRWAVES
sequel to BROADCAST
by Phil Smith
Sat, 11 Sep 2004

X sat in front of his monitor, staring at the blank e-mail window, trying to put his thoughts in order -- what on Earth was he going to say? He typed 'sixdegrees2' into the Send to box, backspaced over the 2, then instead of hitting shift+2 for the 'at' sign, hit clear. Maybe later.

Hacking into the National Weather Service had been simple. Hacking into his local network affiliate's telepromptor was more of a challenge -- and more of a risk. He'd been lucky that no one seemed to notice his alteration, and was glad for the inspiration to have made it such a small one.

X cued up the tape again. As he did so, his resolve to take it to the next level was reinforced. No, messing with telepromptors and trying to organize a satellite hack were futile -- and possibly dangerous -- endeavours. He had a new plan: Celebrities must be contacted, educated (enlightened), and recruited for the cause. Time on the airwaves could be paid for -- what local affiliate or cable company would refuse payment for airtime?

...Yet the disclosure campaign must be carefully orchestrated, so that the message could reach the populace before the propaganda/censorship machine had a chance to quash it. Several spots would have to air within a short time frame, each with a powerful bit of truth for the public to consider. Then, if the operation were shut down, the spin doctors would nevertheless be making themselves dizzy with all the explaining they'd have to do.

If there was a reason that X could see for his plan to fail, it would be his own inaction and/or lack of dedication to the cause -- therefore he had to overcome his inertia and, as this was the next step, write that e-mail.

Operating on the questionable principle that there are only six degrees of separation between any two people, X had managed to gain the private electronic address of a celebrity. Ironically, it happened to be the star of the film, Six Degrees of Separation. He ran through yet another test of the game, "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" in his head, becoming more convinced that this was possibly, for various reasons, the best celebrity to approach.

~o~

He wrote it, sent it, then sweated over it. Called it up from his Sent folder a dozen times, looking for reasons for it to be disregarded, hoping he would be taken seriously. Nothing left but to pop open a pint of Grolsch and put on some vintage Dave Brubeck vinyl... X dropped the needle carefully in the groove of Time Further Out, lit a candle, and sat back in his recliner. Weary from another week of slogging away at his job, one pint, one album, and one pull of the lever on the side of his chair was all it took...

~o~

Late Saturday morning shocked him rudely. He wasn't in his bed, and an empty Grolsch bottle rolled off his lap as he sprang up to answer the telephone. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this X? Did I wake you?" asked an oddly familiar voice. What time was it?

"Yes, and um, yeah -- but that's okay..." he replied, trying to ignore what his bladder was telling him.

"I got your e-mail. Brilliant. Count me in." Suddenly X remembered having included his phone number in the message, and realized who he was talking to...

~o~

[This is a work of fiction. No Kevin Bacons were harmed (or even contacted) in the process of its composition, which was completed 11 September, 2004. If this becomes a series, dear readers, you will know that the plan is being put into action... Feel free to distribute this story widely, but please keep it intact, with no insertions.]

BROADCAST

2005-03-08T05:21:00.000Z

BROADCAST

A short, short story

By Phil Smith
Thu, 5 Aug 2004

He started by hacking into the National Weather Service's Emergency Broadcast System, waiting until a severe thunderstorm loomed to insert a single word into the text that was to be spoken by the computer's synthesized voice. Pacing back and forth while the sky darkened and his television blared, his thumb aching to press the 'record' button on the remote in his hand, he mumbled incoherently, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

There it was! Regular programming was interrupted with the storm watch notice, and he almost forgot to begin his recording. He sat down on the edge of a chair and waited for the computer to utter the single, innocuous word that would prove his success. When it was over, he played it back time after time, finally sinking back into his chair as the adrenaline subsided.

He had no one to share his success with. That night, he celebrated alone with a select microbrew and a DVD of The Lone Gunmen, laughing despite himself at the pilot episode, which originally aired in Spring 2001 and featured an airliner being flown into the World Trade Center.

The beer calmed his nerves enough to allow him to fall asleep before dawn.

~o~

X (as his friends called him) awoke in early afternoon to a ringing telephone. He hit the 'talk' button, and hearing only silence after saying "Hello?" twice, knew it must be another recorded sales message, or a telemarketer waiting to key in. He hit the button again, cursing the depths such people had sunk to, before the spiel could begin.

Ruminations and reminders in a hot shower. Coffee brewing as his computer greeted him with a custom WAV file and a black-and-white image of an odd-looking fish by a microphone on the desktop. Steam from the small glass mug briefly fogging up his glasses as he sifted through posts from radical message boards...

He knew what the next step was, and steeled himself for the task. X brought up an mp3 of the Beatles' Why Don't We Do It In the Road? and began to hack into his local network affiliate's system. Luck! There in front of him, telepromptor files for this evening's news program, ready to be altered.
He searched for a single word in which a single letter could be changed, that would change the meaning of the sentence or even the entire paragraph, as he'd seen typos do in the past. It was found. The change was made. He watched the local news, and recorded the strangely attractive anchorwoman cluelessly bending to his will.

This time, he slammed the beers down so fast that he couldn't concentrate on any films or television shows, and drifted off to a Foo Fighters CD.

~o~

Another phone call woke him, but he simply turned off the ringer after checking the caller ID, reminding himself to flip the switch back later. More sleep seemed like a promising option while he swayed to and fro over the porcelain fixture for a length of time that he found dimly amazing, but moments later X found himself sitting in front of his television again with an open, dry, sour mouth, reviewing the tape of his subtle crimes.

What to do now? He knew, but the task was too monumental. There was a message to be relayed, but first he had to find a way to hack major communications satellites, figure out exactly what must be said, and determine the best time, the proper format, etc.

His computer, X left dormant. The endless questions, the enormity of the implications and consequences, swam furiously in his head as he dropped backwards onto his bed, wondering how he was going to face his stupid, pointless job the next day, Monday, the beginning of another useless week of participating in a capitalist society...

~o~

What will happen to X? What is his message? Will he manage to get it to the many millions tuned in to whatever it is they like to watch? Apologies, dear readers, but these are questions you will have to ponder for yourselves. Please do so, and respond with your thoughts...

Multiple Outlets

2005-03-08T04:51:00.000Z

1953 Studebaker Starliner

Starliner is the title of the novel I'm working on. The premise and title have been in my head for a few short years now. I dabbled in composition in my youth, decided to give it up until such a time as I had enough life experience to work with...

'funkmaster fil' WAS the name applied to the music I've begun to do, using the free editor found here: http://www.beaterator.com/ -- the name is terribly cheesy, so I'm changing it to Phil's Mythos, same as this blog [this edit was made July 3, 2005]. I'm listening to Arrival at this moment, cranked up in my headphones. I had no idea of the depth of the bass as I was piecing it together... To fully appreciate it, I'll have to plug my bass amp into the computer... At some point I imagine I'll do one called Departure, and put it at the end of my CD... (getting way ahead of myself, as usual)

Maybe I can figure out how to share the mp3 here... Sharing my writing is no problem, though, so the next few posts will be a pair of short-shorts followed by the two short chapters that begin Starliner. Please bear in mind that earlier posts are found at the bottom of these pages, latest at the top...

Dee Hunter

2005-02-22T03:34:00.000Z

Well, here we go.

Hunter S. Thompson was suicided this weekend -- how poetically ironic that he would die on the same day as Sandra Dee...

I cannot think of anyone less likely to commit suicide. You would think he'd go down with the ship, cursing the shitstorm loudly with his last breath. If you've never read his ramblings, copy & paste this URL into your browser: http://espn.go.com/page2/s/thompson/010918.html

I doubt one will find a single example of his writing, however, that would have tipped the scales in favour of his termination. No, my guess would be that there were semi-private conversations that prompted the decision.

Then again, he may have actually done himself in -- a surprise move that he must have known would create exactly this sort of speculation.

Either way, he's martyred now, and there are many, many who will never forget him -- and his fans will doubtless insist that their friends read his latest (last) book, Fear and Loathing In America.

Perhaps the whole thing was faked, and HST is alive and well. Truly, there is no way to know, at least for the above-average guy on the street...

These are indeed very troubled times, and reality itself is in question, more than ever before.

Been There, Done That, Got the T-shirt

2005-01-14T07:12:00.000Z

It's official -- I've become an entrepreneur...

Early in the run of Vehicle Magazine, an e-mail 'publication' I used to send out (still planning on a farewell mailing), one issue was titled 'Inevitable Merchandizing', wherein mocked-up images of Vehicle Magazine T-shirts were presented to the couple of dozen readers I had at the time.

Now, once again, I've mocked-up some T-shirts, but this time the images are available on the Web, @ http://www.unifiedsettlement.org/apparel.html . On Thursday the 13th of January, 2005 (today to me, but technically yesterday, especially considering that post times here are recorded in UTC), I contacted not one, but two local printers about Flag of Earth / Unified Settlement T-shirts. The first offered me a great price, and the second promised to match it -- and thse prices are competitive with what I would get from large Internet-based companies...

Now, all that stands between me and a half a gross of shirts is a sum of $522 -- and demand for these shirts, at least among the few I've 'spoken' with about them, is high.

This is how I'm to be somewhat reimbursed for my time spent developing the Unified Settlement. One in each of the 4 colours of the Flag of Earth for me (I'll wear them often), a few given away, and the rest sold at a profit, sent around the world, generating income.

People like T-shirts, sometimes treasuring the ones that show everyone else what they believe in, often loving the ones that are comfortable and have colours and designs that make them feel good... The Flag of Earth is a design that we should all feel grateful to Jim Cadle for authoring way back in 1970 -- a simple, geometric representation of where we are from in the larger sense. I've felt for months now that it would look great on a T-shirt, and that those shirts would sell much better than actual flags -- those flags (sewn, not printed, in 2 sizes), lapel pins, and window decals being the only merchandise Jim offers on www.flagofearth.com ...

I'll be sending one in each colour to Jim -- and if he should choose to, he can order some from my printer to offer on his site, without having to pay the 'art & screen' charge. If he would rather not do this, I'll send him more shirts as a thank-you, along with a paid order for some of his stuff (I want to wear the pin, fly the flag, and stick the decal on my car anyway -- and I'll want more of these items to give as gifts).

Another shirt will eventually follow, with a large f.i.l. on the front, 'freedom is life' (and perhaps other f.i.l.
acronyms along the same vein) and the Unified Setlement URL on the back...

Click on the title of this blog entry to access my site, and please (if you have something to say) click on the number of comments at the bottom to leave a comment of your own.

"I'm Phil Smith, and I approve this T-shirt."

Time Out

2005-01-04T09:18:00.000Z

The BRUTRUCK is meant to be a brute of a truck. Though its design elements are taken from my concept for a small sports car, the Brubeck itself is one tough-looking two-seater...

SKETCH

Once again, I started with MS Paint and moved on to Serif Photo Plus. Using these programs to create new images becomes easier with practice, and the results gradually come closer to the images in one's mind's eye. When it comes to angular designs, an image created on the computer can actually be superior in some ways to a freehand sketch.

The angular nature of the Brubeck and BRUTRUCK concepts makes them difficult to draw with a pencil and paper, but then there are subtle proportions that can get lost in the process of laying down straight lines. The image above, to me, seems awkward -- the wheelbase is a little too long and the front bumper (yes, it does fully surround the grille), along with the farside front wheel, are not in proper perspective with the rest of the truck. Then again, it could be the greenhouse (top of the cab) that isn't quite right...

In any case, I'm pleased to have been able to adapt the elements of the Brubeck -- which I haven't been able to get out of my mind for two years straight -- to a different type of vehicle. Now I have a second concept begging to be built (the flat panels make body construction a relative breeze), with a third in this theme forming in my head.

The next one will be a Brubeck sedan -- not to be called 'the Brubeck Sedan', but, I think, Time Further Out, as an homage to one of my favourite Dave Brubeck albums (the name also hints to transcending the 4th dimension).

But you ask, "What's with this angular, flat-panel design theme? Why do you persist with it?" All right then, since you asked...

Angularity was toyed with most successfully by Chrysler (plus Plymouth and Dodge) designers in the mid-Sixties -- I will point specifically to the Plymouth Fury, model year '64, but there are many others. One can also look to the original Willys Jeep Wagoneer and other purposeful vehicles of that nature, such as the Pinzgauer, even to a particular Voisin design from the late Twenties. Making a vehicle look good when all or even most of its panels are flat is not an easy thing to do -- it represents a design challenge. I like challenges.

Beyond that, while the trend is slowly reversing, there are so many vehicles out there these days with bloblike, amorphous forms that it's getting hard to tell them apart -- even for a lifelong automotive enthusiast like me. To be specific, BMWs, Mercedes, and even the formerly 'Boxy But Good' Volvos have gained sickeningly melted forms -- and don't even get me started on the dementia of the current crop from Chrysler...

To be truly different in these times, to really stand out among the crowd, a vehicle has to be as angular as it can be -- but then, as I mentioned, it isn't easy to make it look good with all flat panels. One has to take a geometric approach, playing the angles against one another, moving the lines by degrees, doing one's best to give a good appearance from any direction. This is quite different from working with curved lines and surfaces...

And yes, flat-panelled bodies are much, much easier to build, which brings the dream of seeing one (or more) of my designs realized as a drivable vehicle that much closer.

How does this tie in with the Unified Settlement? That will be covered in another entry, perhaps the next..

Now, if you will excuse me, this concept has kept me up most of the night (post times are Greenwich Mean, though I live in the Eastern time zone) and I need to get some sleep. I may lie awake thinking of various things for a while, but that is often part of the process. Give me 30-hour days, and I may be able to keep a regular schedule...

The Blur of Time

2005-01-02T04:13:00.000Z

ABLUR

Yes, my son took the picture, with his new camera -- but the blurring was done on purpose...

Personally, I believe he has a bright future ahead of him in photographic expression. This is not only good alternative framing -- the car almost looks NEW. (Photo not cropped or otherwise altered -- only resized.)

Where does time go?

Time, the 4th dimension, is systematically being obliterated by the 5th...

Will entering the 5th dimension feel anything like drinking a fifth of vodka?

2005 is going to be INTERESTING.

No Pressure

2004-12-30T04:16:00.000Z

Amazing. I first photographed the Cressida way back in May -- meaning the offer stood for a full six months before I was able to act on it...

ORIGINAL ALLOY -- MAY 20, 2004

Walked up to the convenience store / gas station to try starting it again today. Starter working fine, no hammer taps needed, but still no fuel to the engine. Then, while at the counter buying a bottle of Tradewinds tea, was informed my Toyota would be towed if it sat there much longer (what ever happened to SERVICE STATIONS?).

Called the one out of five of my siblings who lives in town. Dave has a lot of experience with cars, has owned a Toyota pickup for many years. We went over the relevant pages of the Haynes manual, drove up there, were able to determine that the fuel pump is working, but no start...

Plan B called for being pushed through traffic -- a new meaning to the phrase 'bumper-to-bumper' for me. Let's just say I'm glad there wasn't more traffic, that it was a short distance, and that only slight grades (no hills) were involved.

Ha! But next time a vehicle needs to be pushed that way, I'll volunteer to do the steering. Unexpected fun. Driving the pusher is probably more worrisome...

He lent me a floor jack and a pair of jackstands, in case I need to get at the fuel pump -- or for when I decide to remove and replace that wheel bearing on the Cadillac. He's also promised to bring metric line wrenches so I can track down the suspected clog. THANKS DAVE!

The weather is mild, so maybe I'll have the Cressida running again before next year.

No pressure.

stamped steel

2004-12-27T05:19:00.000Z

In the future, plates like this one will be on more and more vehicles.

BRUTRUCK

2004-12-27T05:17:00.000Z

Did you know I was an amateur automotive designer? I sometimes forget...

A couple of years ago, I entered a Peugeot design contest, then worked on a couple of things for a Mitsubishi contest (that never got sent in). One of them was a neat little sports car I called the Brubeck -- Over the past month or so, I've been thinking of how its design elements would work on other vehicle types. The BRUTRUCK is the result.

It just happens that the Flag of Earth is proportional to the doors on this beast...

Herbie the Humbug

2004-12-24T20:11:00.000Z

Herbie the Humbug -- or The Ghost of Cressida's Past???

If it's possible that cars (like the fictional Disney 'Love Bug' portrayed by a series of 60's Volkswagen Type Is) can have souls, I think my Cressida might be one of them...

[I know, I know, I keep going on about my non-Beetle beater, and you may wish I would write about something else, but if this blog is a sideways glance into my mind, that's what you'll see these days.]

Mysterious things keep happening with this car, as though it were not merely a collection of connected systems integrated for the purpose of transportation. It most certainly has character; Sometimes you would swear it has an attitude...

Without speculating too much about spirits and what they may or may not do, I'd say it's unlikely that a car would be 'born' with a soul -- that being the premise of the Herbie films. However, post-corporeal spirits have been known to do a number of very odd things, and if one were to decide to attach itself to a vehicle (or, alternatively, 'imprint' it), should we be surprised?

Now, before you start thinking this is some horror story like Stephen King's Christine, or an attempt at humour like the old television series My Mother the Car, stop. I am neither joking nor trying to spook anyone. Seriously, I suspect that my Toyota is more than the sum of its aging parts.

Today it started with only a few taps of the hammer (though the front passenger door, which gave me so much trouble yesterday, still refuses to open), then started normally (no hammer required) after a short trip to the grocery store. THEN, close enough to my favourite gas station to coast in, it quit. The fuel guage isn't working, so I figured we'd burned up a full tank already -- not so much from driving, but by leaving the engine running so many times in case getting it started again would prove to be troublesome.

SO. While I was pleased to find that the remote fuel door release still functions, after pumping in ten dollars' worth it was apparent that the tank had not, in fact, been emptied so quickly. Several successful tapping sessions allowed me to TRY to get the engine running again, but sorry, no fuel seems to be finding its way to the injectors.

Somewhere, it seems, the line is clogged. This is a risk you take when you rescue any gasoline-fired engine from years of being left stationary without fuel preservative. Yes, the lines and the tank were cleaned -- apparently, not well enough.

There was a space at the station for me to push it to, and that's where the Cressida sits, until I can walk back up there and disassemble certain bits -- after more study of the Haynes manual, of course. Oh yeah -- and I'll try spraying starter fluid into the intake, hoping the system will build up enough pressure to unclog the line. And -- first I'll try again normally, because you simply never know with this thing.

Humbug? Next on the agenda was yet more Xmas shopping -- I call it Xmas (sometimes FNXmas) because the holiday never seems to have anything to do with Christ... For that matter, it has little to do with Saint Nicholas -- but I digress. No, it's all about stress, stress, and more stress, which I have little of myself -- but I still suffer when those around me succomb to it.

Our kids already have much more than I ever had at their ages anyway, and there are plenty of presents under the tree. More and more, I resent this holiday for the mad consumerism the masses submit to, playing right into the hands of their capitalist overlords.

If my car IS haunted, perhaps that spirit shares my feelings (about more than this wretched holiday -- hint: front passenger door)...

Vroom vroom, beep beep. Happy New Year.

Gaussing and Guessing

2004-12-16T23:09:00.000Z

I TEND to think it was an accident. A vandal would not be likely to wipe years of algae growth away to see how much damage was done (time that could have been spent busting out another section).

AARRGH

THERE WAS, however, no note -- so either it was blown away in recent brisk winds, or it was never composed, never left. Which level of carelessness was it? No way to know, and besides, I'll be trolling the junkyard for parts anyway. I may even find an intact pair of taillights from a slightly newer model, and decide I like them better...

YES I finally have my project/getaway car legal and on the road, but yes, it still has the problematic starter which sidelined it half a decade ago.

WHICH IS why I travel with a hammer. The remedy, you see, for a starter with a stuck solenoid is to tap the housing -- fortunately Toyota starters of that era are mounted high enough to be reached from above the engine (but be careful with that claw when you pull the hammer back out).

BUT WHY does this work? Personally, I didn't see why it would, even after a few successful whacks -- that is, until I noticed a magnetic attraction between the housing and my hammer...

A SOLENOID is a very simple electrical device that uses an electromagnetic field to move a steel core in one direction, usually with a spring to push it back (this is the mechanism in a standard doorbell). Somehow, my starter's housing is becoming magnetized, and this interferes with the function of the solenoid (which moves a gear into contact with the flywheel, so that the starter motor can turn the engine over). Whacking the housing with a hammer doesn't physically unstick the solenoid -- rather it degausses (nullifies the magnetic field of) the housing. With the interfering magnetic field removed, the solenoid can function as it was intended to.

A REBUILD of this starter will not solve the problem. Oh, it might behave fine for a while, but sooner or later the magnetic field would generate again. A replacement starter may behave in the exact same way -- as past replacements seem to have done on this car...

THIS SORT of thing isn't covered in the Haynes manual I picked up today, but my limited knowledge of electromagnetics gives me some clues. Though it wasn't meant to, the starter solenoid is generating excess magnetism, temporarily magnetizing the housing. The housing's field degenerates over time (or abruptly, through judicious use of the hammer), but not at a predictable rate (variables such as temperature and humidity are factors). There may be a low amperage short somewhere, giving the solenoid enough charge to slowly build a larger and larger magnetic field, until the housing becomes gaussed enough to keep the solenoid from functioning.

THAT SHORT, if it exists, will be tracked down and corrected. If one cannot be found, the solution will be to rig up some kind of anti-gaussing device -- perhaps an induction coil...

THE MECHANIC who nursed this Cressida back to life reported a short (which he could not locate) that drained the battery over a few days, but something tells me the key was left in the 'on' position during that time -- it did not drain a second time when left to sit again. If there is indeed a short in the starting system, that was likely the culprit -- not the glovebox light, which is on only when parking lights and/or headlights are on. Then again, it might have been indicator lights in the instrument panel...

"BUT HOW does it drive?" you ask. Well, it goes really well, and stops just fine, and the ride and handling aren't bad either. For now, at least, there doesn't appear to be anything mechanically wrong with it -- except, of course, the starter.

DON'T GET me wrong -- there are plenty of problems, but none of them get in the way of getting down the road (once it's been started). Power windows, doorhandles and locks, rear armrests, and the glovebox door will all need attention, as will the fuel guage...

OH, AND the steering column surround is cracked -- leading me to believe that someone, at some point, tried to steal (or succeeded in stealing) this Toyota sports sedan.

IT HAS more wrong with it than I thought, but nothing that can't be taken care of, certainly nothing that will make me regret spending what I did to get it going again.

THE SHAKESPEARE play? I tried, but could not slog through the flowery dialogue, and found nothing to support the idea of the title characters -- either Troilus or Cressida -- being ghosts, beyond one line with a reference to India... Oh, never mind. I skimmed over the Cliff notes. BFD (yawn).

AS WITH any project car, this one may never be 'completed'. However, it could theoretically be driven coast-to-coast as it is now. Seriously -- it is that solid.

FUTURE ENTRIES here will be from the road...

The Grey Ghost

2004-11-24T10:53:00.000Z

Not yet a classic, quite likely never to be revered as one -- and that's fine by me.

TAKEN ON THE EVENING OF FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2004

You may ask, "What's so special about an old grey Toyota that's been sitting for five years?"

Several things:

inline 6
rear drive
not too heavy
crisp, well-executed body lines
original alloy wheels, nicely designed
rare, but not flashy (and in grey, nearly invisible)
traded for a six-pack of Irish Stout

...but perhaps most importantly, this is the first vehicle in a decade that has my name on the title. I've enjoyed the other cars I've driven in the meantime, but this one is -- and will remain -- MINE.

It was parked because of repeated and seemingly unending starter trouble, becoming an obstacle that had to be removed. My old friend's offer came along just as I was tiring of the seven-liter Cadillac I've been piloting -- a sublime yet ridiculous land yacht whose fuel consumption is merely its most obvious problem. With this Cressida, I expect twice the fuel mileage...

...that is, once it's back on the road. Through the week of Thanksgiving, I must wait patiently as the mechanic I entrusted it to spends his time in the woods with a compound bow, hunting for deer. On the plus side, this gives me plenty of time to work out the legal hassles and seek out the Shakespeare play, Troilus and Cressida...

The title characters were ghosts -- that's all I know so far.

Stay tuned.

- Phil Smith

"Of course, he only had the two arms, and the one head, and called himself Phil..."

2004-11-07T01:28:00.000Z

Yes, because of that line in Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the girlfriend I had in the mid-Eighties called me Zaphod. I, in turn, called her Trillian... But no, I never took to wearing the orange sash of the Galactic Presidency, and I never stole a spaceship. Not one. At least, not yet...

So who am I? Merely the founder of the Unified Settlement, a new nation created for each and every Citizen of Earth. Now, hang on -- that may never be quite as important as it may sound. I'd be quite surprised to find that more than a thousand individuals are aware of the Unified Settlement, and I'm pretty sure only 60 or so understand what it's about.

I'm just a guy in his late thirties, with a small family and a struggling marriage (struggling, that is, to find a way for us to be comfortably divorced), trying (but not hard enough, apparently) to be self-employed -- and planning for the future.

My trouble has always been that I look too far into the future, and that I'm always looking at too big of a picture. Then again, if I hadn't been doing that, I would not have come up with an idea that may, if I can get it across, finally bring World Peace.

The idea is pretty simple. People are people, and if they were allowed to decide for themselves, would not choose to go to war.

The solution, however, is incredibly complex and difficult -- or is it? Sure, governments and corporations, steered by the Machiavellian machinations of secret societies, have a stranglehold on the world -- but they have no power over anyone without consent.

Visit http://www.unifiedsettlement.org/ to find out more. I've got a lot of building to do on that site, so check again, and again and again, over the next few months -- and sign the guestbook if you have something (anything) to say.

If you REALLY want to know more about me, well, there's not much to tell. "Zaphod's just this guy, you know?"

- Phil Smith