My aunt got a new laptop yesterday, and this is what the media player looks like:

I wonder how you say “usability testing” in Mandarin?

For the past few weeks, I’ve been receiving Slate’s round-up of the day’s papers in my e-mail. I don’t always read it (it’s actually better on the site, the e-mail version being truncated and affected with links that track what you click) but when I do I enjoy the way the authors manage to condense the issues at hand. Take this one, from a week ago:

The Los Angeles Times, Wall Street Journal business box, and New York Times all lead with GM’s announcement that it’s phasing out 25,000 U.S.-based workers by 2008. GM crowed that it will save $2.5 billion per year. But analysts weren’t impressed, saying the move doesn’t really address GM’s larger problem: Its cars suck. “Only new product can save GM,” said one industry observer.

Really cuts to the heart, don’t it? (By the by, does anyone else think that GM’s “Employee Discount for Everyone” is just embarassing? Or, as my father puts it: “Wow, what an interesting time to work at GM. Your job might be in jeopardy, and your number one perk is being given to anyone who asks.”)

A few weeks ago, Pech and I stood before an SR-71. With a top speed of Mach 3.3 (that we knew about, at least), the “Blackbird” is a plane, friends. It’s also old as hell: the plane’s first test flight was in 1962.

Seven years later, the famous Concorde was first tested, and by 1976 we civilians got the chance to soar beyond Mach 1.

Great achievements, all, but three decades later I ask: when’s the last time you broke the sound barrier? Concorde has been retired, the -71 is in mothballs, and the current state-of-the-art in airlines is basically a 747 with a tumor.

Which is why I’m thrilled to learn (via Gizmodo) that the French and the Japanese are cooperating in an effort to build a new supersonic airliner. It can’t come soon enough.

Now when do I get my jetpack?

Earlier this month, B-don was kind enough to point me to a free trial to Blockbuster Online, the rental giant’s Netflix competitor. I was a Netflix subscriber wayyy back in the day (when the logo looked like this) so I figured what the hell, I’d give it a whirl, see how the modern stuff compares.

And the answer is: so far, not so hot.

I’ve only been a member for 8 days, so I don’t feel comfortable commenting on shipping time and other availability questions, but there’s still plenty that could be improved. For example:

1. The links aren’t links. For some idiotic reason, they’re using JavaScript (specifically an onClick event) when you click the title. In addition to being generally dumb, this hampers people who prefer to open pages in new tabs. I know I’d love to take the “Award Winners” list and scroll-click the titles of interest, allowing Firefox to load them all in different tabs in the background. But no, I have to click, wait, read, back, click, wait, read…
2. ‘Remember Me’ doesn’t. Even when I’m actively using the site, I get the sign-in prompt far too often. It’s not clear how long a session lasts, but it’s too short. Either dump all pretense of “remember me” or give some specific message such as “Your session has timed out after 5 minutes of inactivity.”
3. I get weird errors. At the time of this writing, I’m actually locked out. I’ve gotten SSL certificate mismatch warnings, “Server returned an error” dialog boxes, and truncated responses. Growing pains, perhaps?
4. Descriptions are inconsistent. Consider Bent on Blockbuster vs. on Netflix. BbO has no information at all. No summary, rating, year, photo, related titles… Nothing. For shit’s sake, fellas, you’re the world’s largest video store operators. Run a query, and send some interns to look this stuff up. It’s embarassing.
5. The ‘most rented’ list is too broad. I’m (mildly) interested in the most popular movies, but not in a big list of the top 100 discs site-wide. Why not break down the lists by category, as Amazon does? Then I can find the top 10 rentals in, say, Anarchic Comedy.
6. The recommendations are…odd. Perhaps I’m a particularly challenging case, but whatever algorithms they’re using to suggest additional titles seem weird to me. How is “Band of Brothers” related to Y Tu Mama Tambien? A little refinement wouldn’t hurt.
7. I have no idea how returns work. I’m not going to comment about shipping in general, but I do note that I dropped off 3 discs around 8pm Monday night, bound for MSP, two mailing days away. The next morning (at 11:50), Blockbuster announced they had shipped a new title to me. Wednesday, at 4:39pm, I got a message that they shipped the second. The third was checked in today.
8. You can’t search your local store. Before the launch of BbO, it was a pain in the ass to search your local store’s inventory (you had to search for title, then enter a ZIP, then click your store) but you could do it. Now BbO has shunted all the physical store stuff to a low-profile position, and they require registration for access. I can’t figure out how to search inventory anymore. That’s dumb enough, but what’s really weak is how they don’t even integrate it into the BbO experience. If I’m viewing a title, why not add a little banner: ‘Carried at your local Blockbuster store’? I get the additional information with no extra effort, and who knows, it might just inspire me to go plunk down four bucks to rent the disc instead of wait for it to show up in my queue.
9. You must maintain separate memberships. Sign up for BbO, and you’re providing contact information and a major credit card. You’d think they would add a checkbox such as ‘Also enroll me at my nearest Blockbuster (at [blah address]).’ Then they could just stick the card in with your first shipment.
10. You have to print coupons. I get two free store rentals a month — provided I print out the barcoded coupons in the ‘My Account’ section. There’s no way to print multiple coupons on a single sheet, and more importantly they can’t seem to manage having them show up on the computer at the store itself: “Sir, you have two free rentals with your online account remaining, would you like to use one?”
11. Your store rental history doesn’t transfer. Once they get #6 sorted, I wouldn’t mind if they brought my store rental history over. I was a Blockbuster customer (by default) for many years, in their high-volume Rewards Gold category. If their recommendation system could analyze the hundreds of titles I’ve rented before and then make suggestions based on those, I’d be interested to see them.
12. They call their mailing list an “E-Newsletter.” That’s like two cliches in one.

As you can tell, it surprises me how poorly Blockbuster has integrated their online and retail arms.

Here, from that same issue, is a perfect example of what annoys me about the magazines targeted at a gay audience:

The scan/masking job isn’t so great, and I apologize, but I ask you instead to focus on the ad itself: what do you reckon they’re selling?

I’ll update later with the answer.

Update [17:01]: Renamed image file so as not to run afoul of adblockers.

Update [Thu 17:20]: Got your guess? Sadly, Mr. Moore’s right, it could be anything. Take a look and see.

Can you believe that the shirtless, slightly hairy man that promised to have what you want, baby, was selling mortgages? Me neither.

By the way, sorry that took longer than I expected. I was in transit today and actually tried to post from a newly wireless-enabled Iowa rest stop, but I would have had to fill out a registration form and the Sister was ill-pleased as it was.

For a variety of reasons, I very rarely go for magazines targeted at a gay audience. Despite this longstanding policy, I found myself unable to resist a recent issue of the Brit mag “Attitude”, for who should be on the cover but Prime Minister Tony Blair.

I bought the issue, and imagine my surprise when I found inside that not only was Tony featured, but so too were the leaders of the other major parties (that would be the LibDems and Tories, or if you’re the formal type, the Liberal Democrats and the Conservatives.) All were stumping for votes and eager to prove that their parties had important and productive gay members.

I try to imagine Bush on the cover of “The Advocate” with Kerry and Nader inside, all trying to make themselves look like they’re the most gay-friendly, and my brain just shuts down: does not compute, it seems to be saying.

Instead we have things like this recent Houston Chronicle article:

TRENTON, N.J. – A millionaire businessman won New Jersey’s Republican primary Tuesday and will face Democratic Sen. Jon Corzine in November — the state’s first gubernatorial race since James McGreevey resigned in a gay-sex scandal.

Umm, a gay sex scandal? Howzat? Now McGreevey had an extramarital affair (with a man), yes. He may have improperly given his (male) lover a job and/or benefits, true. Yet had he done the same with a woman, would they even call it a sex scandal? No — because the scandal was corruption, not sex.

Clearly, we’ve got some catch-up to do.

I had a fuckin’ raging headache last night so I went to bed at the totally atypical hour of 9pm.

As a result, I was up at the equally odd time of 7:45a, and I even had cereal! (What’s this? Breakfast food?)

Not even four hours have passed, and now I’m both dying for lunch and bored off my ass.

Honestly, how do you people cope with mornings? Oh, that’s right: you have jobs. And co-workers. And money.

Sigh. I guess I’m going to have to do some reading.

Anything seem familiar about Gizmodo’s reporting on an alleged PowerBook G5 press release?

Yes, that “reader ‘John'” quoted at the bottom would be me. (After all, who else would consider the misuse of “it’s” to be convincing evidence?)

That’s fun by itself, but I’m also amused that I sent the message at 12:41am, and it was on the site barely an hour later.

Clearly, somebody there is having a weekend as cool as mine. Nerds of the world unite!

• Did you know the back of the ticket says you agree not to provide any data about the game? I wonder if “moblogging” counts…
• I wish the people who designed movie theaters’ stadium seats actually designed, er, stadiums’ seats.
• You can’t go to a game and doubt that wristbands are well and truly played out. (I saw one kid with 14 bands on his right arm.)
• Together those dudes in gray made more in a year than the people of Palau. Everyone knows that, but it’s still amazing.
• I wonder: if the “Kiss Cam” showed two guys smooching, how would the crowd react? What about two girls?
• Music selection continues to have all the subtlety of a Mack truck: for the visitors, “Under Pressure” for mound conferences, then “They’re Coming To Take Me Away Ha-Haaa!” for pulling the pitcher, but “New Sensation” for the home team’s substitution.
• Is it just me, or do hot guys travel in packs?

Wow. Northwest was offering 3 fl. oz. of water or orange juice. That was it. A lousy third of a cup of liquid in foil-topped, Jell-O style containers. (Strangely, Northwest Airlink, the regional operator, offered a salty snack and choice of soft drinks.)

I wonder how long it will be before the toilets are coin-operated.

Megabucks, what did I ever do to you? Boomtown, indeed…

When I was in college, there was a service called MovieCritic.com or something similar (B: do you remember?) where you could rate movies and it would recommend titles you might also enjoy. Nowadays, this is a fairly common feature, but I remember this site in particular because after I rated some 500 titles, they basically said “We really have no idea what you would like.”

That service came to mind when I tried the new Yahoo! Movie Recommendations service. I rated 260ish movies, and made it clear that I tend to skew towards art house/international.

Y! Movies replied by predicting that, of films currently in theaters, based on my ratings I would likely enjoy:

• Madagascar
• The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants
• Cinderella Man
• Unleashed
• Kingdom of Heaven
• The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie
• The Interpreter
• The Longest Yard

There is one movie in that list I would consider seeing. (To be fair, their DVD/Video recommendations were closer to the mark.) Clearly, some refinement of their engine is in order…

Tonight, I called 911.

Just a few hours ago, I was lazily computing away when I heard an overworked engine mixed with the sound of spinning tires and gravel. They’re doing some work on the water mains throughout the neighborhood, so I at first put it down to some kids joyriding, kicking up some of the fresh construction material as they took a corner too fast.

But this was something else entirely. The noise got louder, more insistent. When I heard a loud bang, I sprang to the window. As I looked down from my second floor position, I saw to my shock that a van was driving off my lawn at high speed. In fact, in the intervening seconds, the van had jumped the curb, rocketed through a narrow passage between a hydrant and a telephone pole, then circled through a turn that brought it so close to the house that the van’s left tread disappeared into the garden before scraping against the front step with such force it sheared off a large chunk of concrete. Even after this collision two feet from my front door, the vehicle was moving so fast it left treadmarks on the concrete walkway.

After watching the van bounce back into the street, I paused in surprise. What the hell was that? I thought at first. I rushed around to other windows to see if I could still see the van. Instinctively, I doused the lights as I did so. No sense revealing my position if some maniac ran aground nearby — and perhaps I was imagining it, but didn’t it sounded as though the racing engine was still close?

I couldn’t see anything, so I decided it was time to call the police. I walked downstairs and began to flip through the phone book excitedly. Is this an emergency? What’s the non-emergency number? Is it under ‘Police Department’, ‘City of’, or in that blue government section? I flipped the pages in a hyper fashion. Fuck it, I decided. Time is of the essence.

I dialed 911, and though excited, tried to be brief and professional: someone drove through my lawn, yes, a van, no I’m not sure of the color… I gave my address and the nearest cross streets and listened as the dispatcher put out a call for a “possible 1055,” then told me to call back again immediately if I saw him again.

A few minutes later, as several cruisers converged on the intersection two houses down, I slipped out onto the lawn and surveyed the damage — but was immediately distracted when I noticed that the van itself was just up the road. After peeling out of our lawn, he’d careened off a tree near the corner house, finally slamming so hard into a hydrant that even after slipping a heavy chain around the back axle, a tow truck couldn’t disengage the two. In yet another close have, the van had just missed the newly installed hydrant that crews hooked up last week. Had he stopped three feet to the right, there may have been water works.

I say ‘he’ for convenience, as the driver was missing. As the cruisers zipped around my block, I got the story from the police captain: someone had stolen this van from a house 20 blocks south, and in fact may have stolen another car before that (there were reports of an entirely different van: white, no plates) in another part of town. As barefoot neighbors streamed out of nearby houses, the story spread. Everyone gossiped excitedly about the car thief who was clearly drunk, probably injured, and last seen entering the woods behind my house. Several late arrivals trooped down to get a look at my “stoop.”

Interest soon waned once it became clear the man wouldn’t be found. After the tow truck took a different approach and managed to extricate the van, everyone returned to their beds to sleep.

But I didn’t. I turned on the exterior lights and walked the Wonder Dog around the house, then returned to my desk. And when, a short while ago, I heard the sound of sirens and speeding cruisers once again, my first thought was: I hope they caught that fucker.

I was generating church signs*, if you can believe it, when I clicked my way across to the George Says It site. With all the tools at hand, I just had to give it a go:

Another service from the fine folks who brought you GodHatesShrimp.com (love the banner ad.)

(* My sign actually has nothing to do with my kind of pink. It’s actually a reference to the recent pregnancy of my friend Georgie, who had pink hair the first time I met her.)

Single blond enjoys costume jewelry, airbrushing, and rubbing her face with huge burgers.

Paris Hilton. Under normal circumstances, she falls in the category of “things that I know exist, but will pretend otherwise.” Sort of like Southern Baptists. Or Olestra.

Yet somehow, the recent coverage of the underchested heiress’ new burger ad pierced my protective shell, and I found myself curious enough to visit the site and watch the commercial.

Curious, you understand, not just because of what the overwrought Parents’ Television Council calls its “raunchy, sexually graphic” content, but because of the incongruous nature of the elements: waif-thin honorary anoxeric pitches burger with 72g of fat. It would be like making Bush the dean of Oxford: comedy gold!

Surely they were making it to play up this contrast? Sadly, no: the commercial disappoints. Except for the great bit when she randomly interrupts her washing to take a tiny simulated bite from the monster burger, it’s like every cheesy Ferrari/model poster you’ve ever seen (except Paris manages to look less sultry.)

All is not lost, however, for those with a sense of humor — check out the supporting materials. There’s the “corporate commentary”, which is unintentionally hilarious. Watch as the company marketing director, who’s billed as a “mastermind” by the link, says they picked Paris because her “signature line is ‘that’s hot,'” and the burger is, too! Snicker as the pointy-haired director calls Paris perhaps “the biggest blond female celebrity” and bills the 2 seconds of burger time as a chance “to see who’s hotter, the burger or Paris.”

Then there’s the best bit: downloadable backgrounds. Here’s an excerpt:

Is that not the least hot thing you’ve ever seen? Oh my do I laugh every time I see it. Can’t you just picture some marketing exec saying “where’s the burger? We have to see the burger!” Yet they want the holy “buzz” of Paris. So they make this bizarre burger/bitch/Bentley combo.

Wouldn’t you just love to meet the person who would actually want that as a computer background?

Hmm. On second thought, perhaps not.