It appears as if I have started a meme. Someone please shoot me.

NP: Gazpacho: Night

When Graham Bell invented the telephone in 1876, he probably didn’t expect the rise of the cellphones we’ve been seeing over the last 20 years. At first, there were C-net phone too huge to carry, but mobile still, as they communicated wireless. Then, devices became smaller, networks faster and ubiquitous, and today, the number of cellphones sold worldwide has exceeded the population.

Much like everything else, “it used to be better back then”. When phone calls were still ridiculously expensive, people were able to enjoy their peace and life progressed slow for everyone to think enough, not do or say without engaging their brains. Then, when the first cellphones stuffed people’s pockets, they did their job pretty much from the start: you could make phone calls. Some genius discovered SMS as a splendid tool to rip off customers, so phones grew pager abilities, but other than that, they just worked; I remember my first phone, which didn’t break in years.

Obviously, if you’re a phone manufacturer, you don’t like that, because once you sell a phone that works, the customer won’t come back to give more monies in ten years. Clever as you are, you devised two schemes to ensure your cash flow: make phones more brittle and crap, so that they break within a year, at most two; and drag ever younger people into the debt trap. For the truly stupid, sites and services offer ring tones and games and what not, and the lesser challenged you keep close by the continuous addition of new features that noone needs.

So these days, almost every phone can play music files, which is mighty convenient to spice up your work commute with some tunes, but our youngsters are overburdened by that, it seems.

I almost soiled myself laughing at a group of five Italians at Ezeiza Airport in Buenos Aires, who were sitting around waiting for a bus, every one of them ear plugged and grooving to the beats (you know how dorky it looks when people silently sing along rap songs?). That’s not the funny part. The funny part is that every minute, one of them would say something, which would cause the others to unplug one ear, and form their lips to bleat “what” (making sure to add just a little bit extra of the tone of general disinterest, which is “cool”). This elicited one of two responses: either the original speaker would say “oh, nothing” and everyone nodded, or he’d repeat his wisdom, causing everyone to laugh and nod… before in both cases they replugged and returned to luff themselves. I wonder how they made it to the airport themselves, and why they travel as a group.

Worse than that, however, is that cellphone manufacturers remembered that their phones had speakers (for fancy ringtones) and consequently added the ability to blast tunes through them. As a result, groups of kiddies walk around or sit in trains, with one (or more) of those cellphones blaring into the environment.

Apart from being generally inconsiderate, what I don’t understand is how they put up with the sound quality. It’s mostly hip-hop music — you know that genre that makes some homies out there install 5000 watt subwoofers into their cars so make sure the windows rattle with the base — but these phones have a frequency spectrum comparable in width to that of your grandfather’s, way further up the scale (meaning they just don’t do base). Playing hip-hop through those is like putting a flute concerto on a subwoofer, just worse, because high-pitch tones are harder to filter by those who don’t want to hear them.

And yet, I see it all over the place, kiddies “listening” to music through cellphone speakers. Is it because silence would kill them?

NP: 65daysofstatic: The Fall of Math

When I got home last night, I couldn’t sleep and instead popped a DVD into the drive and sat back to watch an episode of the famous Tatort series (German only).

Tatort (“crime site”) episodes tell the tale of police investigations, but without stuntmen and special effects, without sci-fi elements or threadbare settings and stories, without technology and gadgets. In fact, it just feels plain as if it could happen next door tomorrow. The characters are normal as you and I, but played beautifully, with witty and enjoyable dialogues, which seem familiar and natural to me as a German, rather than trying to be funny or cool. Yet, the two main investigators, Batic and Leitmayr, are awesome and it’s good fun to watch them inch towards solving the mysteries.

I watched the episode “Norbert”, and I really enjoyed it. The plot is full of surprises, and the viewer is (purposely) mislead on various occasions. It was suspenseful until the end. I’ve seen maybe 20 of the thousands of episodes (it airs every Sunday night since 1970), and this one was so far my favourite.

Quality television! It’s a shame the (Dutch) DVDs I have do not have English subtitles.

NP: Dimmer: I Believe You Are a Star

From Berne, the Swiss capital, hails a band I really like by the name of Züri West. The name itself is a pun: the folks from Berne love their city (rightfully so!) and join the rest of Switzerland in looking down a bit upon Zurich, which is “metropolitan” and “hip” and has often been considered the real capital of Switzerland. Located west of Zurich, Berne is thus “Züri West”, and by using this name, the Bernese band ridicules the Zurich folks a bit. Well, that’s my interpretation anyway and I make no claim over its correctness, and I surely don’t want to get mixed up in local politics!

Where was I? Oh yeah: Züri West (Flash-using homepage] make rock music, and they’re good with their instruments. The result are groovy and melodic sounds, which everyone in Switzerland knows.

What I find particularly amazing about this band are their lyrics. Kuno, the singer, sings almost all songs in the Bernese dialect, which I’ve learnt to the point of understanding it, though I can’t speak it yet. It’s a beautiful dialect, and Kuno displays magnificent control over it.

When I say beautiful, I do not only mean its sound, but also the way it allows one to express thoughts, situations, feelings, etc.. It’s very lyrical, often poetic, but always very much to the point. It sounds natural, yet not at all blunt.

In addition, Züri West’s songs display no haste. Again, this is a bit ironic since the Bernese are said to be slow, but what I mean is that the band is unafraid to take their time to recount what they have to say. Forget 4/4 beats and verse-chorus-bridge-verse-chorus, it’s a lot more as if the band shaped the music around the story they’re telling.

(Of course I have no reason to claim that the Bernese are actually slow. According to my dear (Bernese) friend Isabel, they are just considerate to give the rest of the world enough time to parse and understand their sophisticated verbal and non-verbal output).

I won’t be able to convey all of the lyrical beauties of their music to you, but what I want to do is translate my favourite of their songs, which is based on a story by Peter Bichsel and it’s called “America does not exist”.

Keep in mind that their version rhymes, which I won’t be able to achieve in the translation. I’ll try to keep the flow though. Imagine a jazzy, slightly Latin groove to it. And it’s sung, not spoken.

This is the story of Colombo
not the one from the TV show
but of a guy who once lived in Spain
and who was a bit of a freak
capable of nothing
and always telling weird stuff
without giving it much thought
until one day someone told him: you’ve got to learn a trade
you have to live your life
nobody takes you for real like this
and most just laugh about you
what are the options
he asked - what do you do
I’m an explorer - the other guy said
I sail my ship out to the sea
through the various parts of the globe
that sounds very interesting - I’d like that too
and so Colombo said - I’ll become a famous explorer

And he told it to everyone
and everyone just started laughing
and he said: just wait and see
and the people didn’t believe him
and he got sulky
and the people almost died laughing
and he left the town
and hid somewhere in the forest
where he remained for 13 weeks - 13 weeks in the shrubs
and the people searched and felt ashamed
and noone knew where he might be
and noone laughed anymore when suddenly on a wonderful morning he was back
then everyone rejoiced
and when he said: i told you so
I discovered a new land
it’s out there somewhere in the sea
then everyone listened
and was kind to him
and tried hard to make some dreadfully serious faces

The explorer from the first verse
Amerigo Vespucci is his name
just happened to be in town
and said: good for you, but I won’t believe you until I see it myself
and went off to set sail immediately
and after exactly 13 weeks and a day and a night he was finally back
and the people all went down to the port
and Colombo was nervous, almost ill because he had lied
and he was horribly frightened
and pale
and looked noone in the eyes

But Vespucci smiled and stood in front of the people
and blinked at Colombo and told that he had found it
and Colombo was so glad that he didn’t tell on him
and called out Amerigo Amerigo and the people joined in

And Colombo became famous and until the end of his days
he was never actually sure and never dared to ask
whether America really existed
over time, more people went there and when they came back
they told stories and they tell the same stories until today
and noone knows anything more than he knew before
and everyone saw exactly the same
and that sounds very dodgy
and tastes a bit like screenplay and Hollywood

America doesn’t exist
they never found it
America doesn’t exist
it’s all just a tale
America doesn’t exist
it’s all lies and made up
America doesn’t exist
America is just a rumour

NP: Züri West: Züri West

Last night, my flatmate asked the question of whether it is possible to do anything in a selfless way, or whether everything one does can be traced back to one’s own interests. I am not fit for these kinds of philosophical arguments anymore, so we pursued another topic instead.

Today I am sitting on a Swiss flight and am being bombarded by commercials on the stationary television screens they use for safety instructions and the onboard entertainment.

Swisscom purchased advertising space, and there they proudly let us know, in German, English, and French that “1 million kids in Switzerland jump for joy as Swisscom brings free Internet access to their schools. Simply so.” (sic).

When I read this, I first though: why the heck are Swiss schools still in need of Internet connections? Why do we tolerate an economy or situation in which the Internet isn’t ubiquitous yet?

And then, my mind suddenly made the connection to last night’s discussion on selflessness: even though Swisscom is trying to communicate that they’re being selflessly good by providing access to the school’s, they obviously aren’t, or they wouldn’t be using the factoid for advertising.

The curious aspect is that I wouldn’t normally have absorbed their message or linked it to last night’s discussion. The reason that I did is because of the gross errors in their English translation.

The German “einfach so”, which I think they translated wrongly, suggests that they did something without any particular reason. I am not a native English speaker, but “simply so” doesn’t exist, and it (thus) doesn’t have that meaning.

Dear Swisscom, and all other companies who think that English is hip, or who actually want to reach out beyond the borders of four-language-Switzerland: consider employing someone who can speak the language to help with your marketing. Even if you want to let the world think that what you do is without commerical interests.

NP: The Flower Kings: Unfold the Future

Update: initially, I criticised Swisscom for using “jumping for joy”, which makes no sense to me. Apparently, however, it’s an idiom. I should have checked, especially since I am criticising the use of a language non-native to me. Thanks to the various people who wrote in for kindly pointing out my mistake.

In certain geek circles, especially those centred around IRC channels, it seems common practice to refer to each other by nicknames, even during real life meetings. This drives me crazy.

I’d like the world to know that I am Martin, unless you speak to me on IRC. This also means that I am Martin on mailing lists and any other form of communication, except IRC.

Love,
Martin

NP: Pulp: Freaks

I don’t visit YouTube. Part of that is because I have better things to do with my time, and the other is that most of the content is just shit.

But every now and then, I’ll be forced by someone else through a flick and don’t regret it. There is some incredible stuff out there (and yet I won’t become a regular Tuber).

Gian-Marco introduced me to Jeff Dunham and I won’t lose any words, so meet Achmed, the dead terrorist and hear him sing Christmas carols.

And if you like that, Jeff’s got other friends too, like Peanut and Walter.

Impressive.

NP: The Phoenix Foundation: China Cove

As during previous keysigning events, such as DebConf7 and DebConf6, I turned up to the LCA 2008 keysigning event with my ID card issued by the Transnational Republic.

Previously, this act has caused people to to get rather upset. I have explained my motivation and rationale in response to the thread; yet, my reputation as “keysigning subverter” precedes me. I maintain that I am not subverting the web of trust in any way.

I conduct this “experiment” mainly out of interest, and to sensibilise participants of the web of trust. Even though I stated previously that I would no longer attend keysigning events, I couldn’t pass up this opportunity on the other side of the planet.

Fifty-seven people exchanged data and glances at ID cards with me. In total, 9 people asked about this ID card, mostly out of curiosity, but only one person flat out refused to sign my key. This leaves 47 who apparently accepted it.

If you disagree with my approach, please do not sign my keys, 0x330c4a75 and 0x667c7088 (but do read my arguments, please). I will not import signatures I receive for a while, so if you have already sent your signatures by the time you read this, send me a note and I’ll delete them.

Keep in mind that you are not authenticating the ID. You are authenticating my identity. And unless we’ve interacted or you otherwise know who I am and that I am the same person as is using this key for the work through which you know me, you should not sign my key.

Also note that I continue to stick to my policy and will only sign keys of people that I “know”. Thus, if you want my signature and we have not previously interacted, you have four more days until the conference is over.

Update: a couple of people replied, including Paul Wayper. I’ve since had an interesting discussion with him but still want to address two points in his post here:

The ID presented is not “fake”, it is simply issued by an entity that is not considered “official”. Its data are all correct, which I am happy to prove to anyone who cares.

Second: if the web of trust were to die if everyone did what I was doing, would it “live” forever and improve continuously if we continue such mass signings based entirely on IDs? Noone can know how to verify IDs from all countries that issue them, introducing “fakes” is trivial (as my experiment and this message hopefully show). I think it’s a case of quality versus quantity. Whether you buy my point that you need to ask yourself what you are actually proving to the web of trust with your signature (and sign (or not) accordingly), or whether you are signing an identity (what is identity?), I would suggest to concentrate more on educating people. At the keysigning at DebConf7 in Edinburgh, we split people into smaller groups around well-connected keys. Within each group, prior to the keysigning, experienced key owners would take a short time to talk about the process and explain its goals. Specifically, they would make it explicit that there is no obligation to sign ones key, similar to what Jonathan said in this message prior to the LCA keysigning.

My experiment yielded a small discussion on the LCA chat mailing list, which is worth a read if you haven’t seen it yet.

Here’s an important lesson I learnt today: if you are in Thailand and still feel the effects of a not-so-recent knee and wrist injury, you should, before the massage, learn how to say in Thai: “please, go easy on my knee and my wrist.”

The rest of my body likes brutal Thai massages (well, learnt to like them), but when the knee is bent and twisted and my face inadvertedly morphes in agony, the typical massagist will apologise furiously and take it easier from now on — not what I want, at all.

Three Thai hanging out on the street, asked individually, could not translate “I like it rough but my knee does not.” Instead, they just giggled and wanted to know where I was from and where I was going and whether I wanted a massage or attend porn shows or buy drugs or… well, that about lists it all.

No blame for the average Thai’s broken English, it’s still better than my command of their language.

Due to popular demand and a related story, I am herewith sharing my recipe for what I consider to be among the best types of food available: the Bircher Müesli.

As you’ll see shortly, I am talking about mush, about a creamy, cereal-and-fruit-based mix of all kinds of ingredients. Its creator, Mr. Bircher designed this Müesli to release the contained energy into the body very slowly. Thus, with some Müesli in the morning hours, I can easily make it through to dinner without losing blood sugar or feeling down. And from the recipe, you’ll be able to conclude that it’s also, in fact, quite healthy.

My recipe started out from a recipe by Aline’s mother, but it bears little resemblance to the original, I’ve spent two years experimenting on it. No kidding. This also means that you don’t have to copy the recipe, but you can freely replace, add, or leave out ingredients to your liking. Especially the ginger, kardamon, and chili aren’t exactly what the Swiss would put in there… (I almost never use ginger or chili anymore, but kardamon works really well).

Without further ado:

martin’s Müesli

Ingredients (4-6 servings)

• 1 large banana, mushed
• 2 apple (not too sour) or pear, grated, but not too fine
• 1-2 kiwi fruits, cut, not too fine.
• Optionally a mango or papaya, mushed or cut to small pieces
• 175g frozen raspberries
• 125g frozen blueberries
• 30g ground hazelnuts
• 30g ground walnuts
• 500g single-fruit or plain yoghurt (can be low fat; alternatively quark, fromage blanc, cottage cheese)
• 100-150ml milk or cream (can be low fat)
• 200g oat flakes, fine
• several squirts of lemon juice
• a bit of lemon peel, ground
• a slush of orange juice
• kardamon, ginger, grated; chili powder

Preparation

1. Combine mushed banana and grated apple into tuppaware container, squirt lemon juice and mix to prevent discolouring.

2. Add yoghurt, kiwi fruits, nuts, lemon peel, frozen berries, and mix.

3. Stir in oat flakes, use milk/cream and orange juice to balance viscosity, which should be a bit thicker than the fruit yoghurt. Keep in mind that you can always add a bit of milk when eating it, but you can’t really make it less viscous later. Also, the oats soak up a bunch of liquid, so it’ll be more solid the next morning anyway.

4. Add kardamon, ginger, chili powder according to taste.

5. Seal tuppaware container and leave in fridge for several hours.

Now enjoy; the Müesli is best if consumed within 3-4 days.

As per suggestion of my flat mate, try a bit of aromatic cheese (such as Appenzeller) with the Müesli. That’s what he always got from his mother, and I am starting to like it a lot.

NP: Dream Theater: Octavarium

Update: because licences suck, I am releasing the recipe to the public domain. Yet, if you make any worthwhile changes, I’d appreciate if you fed them back to me, and if your Müesli wins a price, at least note my name in the acknowledgements of your biography.