So yeah, 11.04 has way worse problems than bad window button positioning.  You see, they moved from their old boring, functional, customizable “Gnome 2″ GUI to a new one, (ominously) called Unity.  Sure, Gnome is a dumb name, but it works, and it feels kinda like Windows, and I can get to my files and applications as if I were, you know, sitting at an actual computer.  In that, it performs its primary function well.  Gnome 2 might be boring, and “Gnome” might be a stupid name for anything except a small guy who sits on your lawn, but it was literally the only Linux desktop that really made sense.

The problem came when Gnome version 3 came out, and it was radically and awe-fully different than the reliable, computer-like Gnome 2.  This apparently drove the people behind Ubuntu so crazy that they were inspired to created something to compete with Gnome 3 (and KDE 4, that other Linux GUI overreach) in the category of awfulness.  So, in the bowels of Mount Doom, a GUI named Unity was forged.

What wrong with Unity, you ask?  Well:

1) It has a dock, a la OS X, that doesn’t do anything you want it to.  First of all, it’s on the left side, where Ubuntu apparently puts everything now.  You can’t move it from the left side, either.  Also, it’s default behavior is to hide behind open windows until you hold your mouse at the left edge of the screen for almost a second.  But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself…

1)  There is no bar at the bottom that holds your open application windows.  There is no way to GET a bar at the bottom that holds your application windows.  Because reclaiming that half-inch of real estate at the bottom of you monitor screen is more important than being able to switch between application windows in one click.  You see, with the combo of the hidden Dock of Death on the left side and the lack of a way to click on open windows, there is no way to go from window to window via mouse.  You have to move your mouse to the left side of the screen, wait for the Dock of Death to reappear, then click on the application you want to switch to.  And if that application happens to have more than one window open (like if you were –gasp — trying to edit two spreadsheets at the same time), then you have to click one more time on the actual window you want to see.  And you have to do that every time you switch windows.

2) There is no actual menu in Unity, and no way to get one.  I want to be very clear on this point:  There is no nested list of installed software to click on (and therefore run) with your mouse.  Now, I understand that some people hate menus, but they’re wrong.  A menu is the single simplest and most efficient way to organize a given computer’s entire set of installed applications.  Period.  If you don’t think so, you’re fooling yourself.  For the makers of Ubuntu, every day is apparently April Fools Day.

3) When you click on what you think is the menu (it’s in the top left corner instead of the bottom left one, but Ubuntu’s been that way for a while now — wait, that’s where it started!), you get what can only be described as the single most frustrating and counter-intuitive thing I’ve seen in a GUI since KDE’s plasma desktop.  Instead of a menu, you are greeted with a giant black window that somehow eats up your whole screen yet shows you virtually nothing.  There are three lists — one for your supposedly “favorite” apps, one for some of your installed apps, and one for random apps you don’t have installed.  There are only 5 of each application listed, with a tiny yet helpful-looking “see more results” to click on for each category.  Clicking on that will give you an alphabetical list of favorite, installed, or random apps, but the list is limited by the fact that only so many giant app icons can fit in the black window (even though it takes up the whole screen).  Let me say that again:  you’re 3 clicks in, and all you’ve managed to do is pull up an alphabetical list of your apps.

Now, there is a “menu” of sorts where you can filter the results by category, but that’s yet another click, and you still might not find what you want (especially if it starts with a “z”).  I found that the most efficient way in Unity of finding apps is searching for their name in the giant search bar at the top of the black Window.  That’s right, I have to f***ing use my keyboard to find my apps.  What is this, DOS 6.0?

I want to make this perfectly clear — I’m the laziest person I know.  This makes me a pretty good judge of efficiency in operating systems and user interfaces, because I can smell unnecessary effort a mile away.  And the last thing I want to do when sitting at my computer is click in a search box, take my hand off the mouse, type in words I have to think about, and hit enter.  If I have to search for something by name, you have failed as a GUI.  You have my apps.  Please give them back.

What they were trying to do is emulate your average smart phone’s screen (with the apps and the black Window), and they failed so miserably that you can hardly recognize what they were aiming for.   My iPhone shows me all my apps on the screen, and I can organize them in whatever way I choose.  Unity does the opposite of that — only showing a few apps, and not allowing me to organize them at all.

4)  It has become apparent that the only reason Ubuntu exists is to sell people on Ubuntu products, such as (the again ominous-sounding) Ubuntu One.  What does One do?  Well, for $3.99 a month you can store a bunch of data in their (presumably totally secure) cloud, and even stream stored music to a variety of devices.  Because using up bandwidth streaming stuff to your smartphone is better than just putting the actual songs on your phone, apparently. That’s why it costs money.

What Ubuntu Inc doesn’t understand is that I use Linux to get away from being sold things by the software that runs my computer.  That’s the whole point of open source and free software, right?

Finally, a serious point:  All the Linux GUIs seem to be hopelessly broken right now, and it’s put the whole idea of Linux in jeopardy, at least for me.  I’m using Linux Mint right now, but there’s talk of them switching to Gnome 3 next year.  Maybe Gnome 3 will improve enough to be usable next year, but I doubt it.  So my choices seem to boil down to:  Using Mint 11 for the next 10 years, or giving up on Linux entirely.  Maybe I should just get a Mac.

2009-2010 was a bad, bad couple of years for a lot of things, including me blogging.  “I haven’t felt like it” “The FBI thinks I’m evil” and “I really really haven’t felt like it” are the three main reasons for my internet silence.  If this bums you out, I apologize.  If it makes you happy, then I take back my apology.

I know I said I was going to make the NBA season a story, but that seems ludicrous in the face of my total lack of interest in it.  What story?  LeBron doesn’t care about Cleveland?  Players don’t care about you or me?  There will be a lockout next year because (in this terrible economy) the two sides of the NBA coin both are thinking they need more money?  I can’t even muster up indignation at the players — this whole thing seems very owner-driven this time.

So, screw that.

I read an enormous amount of totally useless stuff on the internet. You would not believe the stuff I read.  Much of it is to reinforce my beliefs, and much of it is to just piss me off.  This might seem judgmental, but that’s ok.  I forgive you for thinking that.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOO, lots of things go through my head that I’d like to share, but don’t seem appropriate for a personal blog.  They would seem more appropriate coming out of the internet mouth of one of my alter egos or something.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I’m going to start another blog, where I can explore these things that affect me so.

Epthnation.com will not cease to exist, but rather will become the mouthpiece of Michael Pape, aspiring author and soon-to-be-productive member of the Community of Books in America.

That means some fiction, and some writing commentary, but mostly…silence.  I’ll basically shut up until I have something to say.  Isn’t that a nice idea?  Now, if I write a book and SOMEHOW manage to snooker somebody into publishing it for me, that will be an example of something you could find out here.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, don’t delete this RSS feed just yet…please?

More details on the blog when it’s up and running.  It won’t be on the epthnation.com domain.  It’ll be somewhere else.

In the meantime, my Twitter feed is living and active and full of “win.”  I’m not sure if I’m going to also create a separate Twitter feed for the new blog (seems like a good idea, but also more work then I’m liable to be able to tolerate).  Twitter’s nice because it’s condensed and flippant, just like my brain.

Fountain Place is my favorite Dallas building.  May it stand forever.

Fountain Place, all cool and stuff

“Clinton says she won’t run for President again.”

Imagine my disappointment when all the so-called “China View” story had was a quote indicating that she didn’t, in fact, answer the clear yes-or-no question posed to her by Ann Curry.  All she said was that she liked being Sec. of State, and would like to retire at some point.  This is a woman for whom power is the only thing that has any meaning.  Do we really think she’s going to lay off running for the most powerful office in the world just because she’s 70?  Puh-lease.  I dug some more.  Going to a “real” news source, the so-called “Washington Post,” I found the whole exchange.  Here’s my paraphrase of it:

Curry:  Will you ever run for President?  Please pretty pretty please?

Clinton: No.

Curry:  No?

Clinton:  No and hell no.

Curry:  So it’s no, then.

Clinton:  No.  No.  No.  This gig I have is really, really cool.  I get to do all sorts of stuff without people hating me.

Curry:  So you’re ok with all the attention Obama has been getting.

Clinton:  (gritting teeth)  Oh, sure.  He totally deserves that Peace Prize thing, just for showing up to work every day.

Curry:  So, it’s no then, to the Presidency?  Like, forever?

Clinton:  Holy crap.

—————–

I don’t know what this means, I’m just glad the bullet of President Clinton II has been officially dodged.  And you thought the news was depressing.

As you walk through the door, you see before you a counter with three Mexicans.  Two of them, a guy and a girl, are sitting there reading Al Dia silently.  The other one has on a chef’s hat, and is eyeing you as you stroll straight back to him.  You pass the Chevron clerk on your right, a fat man who is talking to his buddy.  They don’t look up as you pass.  You suspect them to both be of African descent, based on skin color and language.  This is all a lot of ethnicity for you, a white boy, to take.  Nevertheless, you are confident that this will be worth it.  You notice music playing faintly…it’s the Celine Dion song from the movie Titanic.  “Near, far…wherever you are, etc.”  Ugh.  Not even that can wreck your appetite.

MexiChef says “vaminos,” and the guy and the girl look up, smile at you, and scurry away.  The guy is wearing a wife beater and dirty jeans, and the girl is dressed in shirt that’s a couple sizes too small.  She’s still smiling at you as she walks past your extreme whiteness, towards the door you just came in.  The closer you get to the counter, the more it smells like oil and taco seasoning.  You take this entire paragraph as a series of good signs.

Glancing up at the handwritten sign behind the counter, you notice they’re serving two choices today:  tacos and “zinchronisaidas.”  Normally, you would take the safe route, but you’ve been tipped off.  MexiChef is silently waiting, pad and pen in hand.  Tacos are $1.25, and the food that starts with Z is $3.75.  It’s not every place that serves heaven on earth for under 4 bucks.  You are a lucky gringo today.  Your voice strains to overcome the Celine Dion and and African conversation, but you manage to get out, “I’d like a zinchroni…” before you stop, unsure of how to proceed with the rest of the word.  You’ve eaten a lot of Mexican food, but never one of these.  MexiChef is already writing it down though, and proceeds to finish the word for you out of mercy.  He then asks, “Wat kieend?”  Your brain takes a second to translate the question, and you remove your eyes from his and look back at the friendly board.  He takes over, pointing out your choices.  They are the standard — “pollo,” “barbacoa,” “beef,” and “pastor.”  The proverbial ball is in your court.

Anyone who’s spent any time in Texas knows what “pollo” is — chicken.  “Beef” is also self-explanatory, and apparently universal.  “Barbacoa” is a word that’s both intuitive and fairly common around these parts.  It simply means “barbeque.”  That leaves pastor, which the discriminating consumer of gas-station tacos knows is not a religious or nature-related term, but rather a special pulled pork.  Again, having been tipped off ahead of time, you know which meat to choose.

“Pastor,” you say confidently, pronouncing it “pa-STORE” as best you can.

MexiChef turns and immediately start getting ingredients out.  You will pay when he’s done, you guess.  You sit down on the stool the Mexican girl was sitting on and start looking at your phone.  A couple other white people have come in while you were ordering, and they’re getting sodas and coffee.  Everyone except you looks resoundingly blue-collar.  Your golf shirt and clean jeans would be making you feel slightly out of place, but nobody seems to notice you’re there.  Celine Dion is still oversinging.  What, oh what, would you do if you couldn’t look at your phone?

MexiChef gets you attention about 3 minutes later; apparently your zinchroni-thingy is done.  The bad thing about $3.75 is that tax brings the total over 4 dollars.  You’ll be exiting this Chevron station with a pocketful of change.  You can smell the food through the white styrofoam container, and you’re liking what you smell.  You hand over a fin and get your change.  MexiChef thanks you, and you thank him back.

Time passes quickly now as you walk back to your car and prepare to put heaven in your belly.  You barely notice the blue collar workers paying for their drinks, the African clerk, or the Mexicans coming back in to take their seats at the counter.  You sure as heck don’t know if Celine Dion is still playing.  Your car is like 150 degrees, because it was sitting in the sun for five whole minutes.  Thankfully, your A/C is robust enough to make quick work of even extreme Texas heat.

You decide to drive to a better part of town to eat your prize.  It’s a curious decision, because the anticipation is killing you a little bit every second you and the zinchronisaida are apart.  After a couple minutes, you’re in the clear.  You find a parking spot far away from all the other Dallas-ites, under some nice shade to help the idling A/C (which is not nearly so robust as the in-motion A/C).  You open the styrofoam container and see the Mexican concoction, which resembles a large quesadilla.  Why don’t they just call it that?  Must be something about how it’s made.  The tortillas are definitely a little fried on the grill.  Maybe that’s it.

It comes with a plastic fork, some napkins, and some green salsa.  The salsa’s never as hot as you think it’s going to be.  Nevertheless, you want to try this zinchro thing naked.  No, not you, the food.  Put your clothes back on.  What kind of story do you think this is?

You take the knife and fork and cut yourself a piece.  The tortilla is a little tough, but you manage to get it cut with not too much squooshing.  Stabbing the piece with your fork, you send it home, an involuntary smile passing your lips.  If this is a quesadilla, it’s the greatest quesadilla in the world.  The gobs of cheese and the pork have melted together in a pile of absolute gooey awesome.  Time stops, and your entire food paradigm shifts to accommodate this, it’s new leader.  Your entire life is divided into B.Z. and A.Z. now.  The best part?  You still have like 50 bites to go.

The only thing that could put a dent in your enjoyment is thinking about the amount of fat molecules it took to make something like that.  But you’re in Dallas, and therefore don’t tolerate that kind of sissy thinking.  If health exists, it surely doesn’t apply here.  The rules have changed.  You cannot un-taste zinchronisaida.

• The Mexicans are saying that the old flu shot, the one they give every year, is offering some help against the kinda deadly H1N1 “swine” flu.  This conflicts with studies from other countries, apparently.  In fact, an unpublished Canadian study suggested that the seasonal flu vaccine might conflict with the H1N1 vaccine, much like two car mechanics might fight over fixing your car.  Does the fact that its unpublished mean that it’s not true?  In this case, I believe the Mexicans.  I certainly didn’t think I’d be doing that when I woke up this morning.
• Scientists have discovered a massive ring around Saturn that’s going to make us rethink the way we think about rings around planets.  First Pluto’s not really a planet, and now we need to revamp all our drawings of Saturn to include a gigantic outer ring.  Next they’ll tell us Jupiter’s made of puppies.
• Thanks to the discovery of a buried stone circle, we now think the “mysterious” Stonehenge was part of a larger burial complex.  Spinal Tap is going to have to change the words to their song.  Somebody knows who they were, and what they were doing.
• Insane former Texas Tech wide receiver Michael “Trabtree” Crabtree has finally ended his holdout with the San Fran 49ers, ensuring that he’ll only have ruined his first NFL year, and not his whole career.  Remember, people — holdouts may hurt a team, but they’ll hurt the holder-outer more.  Time will tell if this means more or less inappropriate Deion Sanders jock-worship.
• Good news:  If you bought a copy of AutoCAD, and want to sell it to somebody else, you can.  Autodesk was trying to enforce their license agreement, which claims that the software is only “licensed” and not “purchased.”  Still think that copyright in America is working?  As long as companies even think they can prevent resale of something like software, the angels above will cry and we will not be truly free.

I'll Say

On days like this it’s small consolation that the Pack will always one day be Back. On days like this it’s hard to see the silver lining on the cloud, or the light that’s producing the shadow, or any of those other cliches that say that bad is actually good. It’s just horrible, and it doesn’t stop being horrible even though its technically “sports” and therefore not real.  Having said that, let’s go through some things, shall we?

1. I’ve become a firm believer that most football games are decided by 5 or so plays that could go either way — turnovers, holding calls on big gains, 3rd-down defensive stands, and their ilk.  Last night’s game was decided by Rodgers’ interception, Favre’s ridiculous touchdown strike to that #18 Minnesota WR down the middle of the field, the bogus offsides/defensive holding calls that canceled out Woodson’s late interception in the end zone, and like 50 other Packer failures.  But still, they had a chance to win at the end.  I don’t know what that means, but I like it.
2. Sure, Aaron Rodgers holds the ball too long much of the time; He’s still really, really good.  The fact that his O-line is comprised of dudes who ate too many crayons when they were kids is the REAL problem.  People say Rodgers is just a “stats” quarterback, that his stats don’t mean anything.  Well, stats are stats for a reason, and that reason is that they mean something.  Bad quarterbacks don’t put up any stats.  If they protect this guy, they will succeed.  Period.  It’s funny that they went out and hired the worst offensive line they could find, then, eh?  No, it isn’t funny at all.
3. How can you really blame Ted Thompson for getting rid of Favre?  No 40-year-olds in the history of mankind have ever played like the Mississippi Mauler did last night.  He was sharp, confident, and able to make some amazing throws.  He was, as always, a true pleasure to watch.  Who could have anticipated this turn of events?  Steroids?  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
4. As harassed and helpless as A-Rod was, Favre was that comfortable in the pocket.  The Packers need to figure out this thing they call defense, since it is 45% of the game and all.  As one of my friends said, on one play they appeared to drop 11 men into coverage.  That doesn’t make sense.  If this is what the 3-4 reaps, then let’s sow ourselves back to the 4-3 and kick Dom Capers and Kevin Greene to the curb.  This isn’t Charlotte, for pete’s sake.
5. In a world of decent punters, the Packers somehow ended up with an indecent one.  He’s terrible.  What were they thinking?
6. I never thought I’d think this, but I can’t wait to get Atari Teenage Bigby back from injury.
7. Why do the Packers have so many white linebackers, anyway?  Because Kevin Greene was a white linebacker?  It doesn’t make sense.  Whither Nai’l Diggs?
8. I don’t know what dance Jared Allen was trying to do after his 8 sacks yesterday, but he needs to remember what happened to Mark Gastineau when he started doing elaborate sack dances.  One step away from being pummeled in boxing matches, that guy is.
9. Donald Driver needs to start catching every ball that’s thrown to him.  Also, he needs to not hug evil opposing quarterbacks at the ends of games.  If Donald Driver doesn’t comply with our demands, we will take away his record.  This isn’t a game.  Well, it is, but it’s not that kind of game.
10. Word to your mother, Vikings fans:  We have seen this play before, and it’s a tragedy, not a comedy.  Favre will not keep this up.  This game will only encourage him to try more impossible throws.  Stop, collaborate, and listen:  you will fail.
11. I thought Favre’s family wanted him to retire?  They seemed pretty happy in their Tinkledome box.  Traitor family.
12. This is the kind of game that makes one irrational.  I now have an irrational hatred of stupid horns, the state of Mississippi,  bad offensive lineman, the state of Minnesota, and Monday Night Football.
13. Jon Gruden wasn’t bad last night, and provided lots of colorful information about many of the game’s participants.  He still looks insane, though.  Does he drink 10 Red Bulls before the show starts?
14. Frank Gifford is getting a bit old for this.  I know, it’s mean to say, but he can’t even pull off being Frank Gifford anymore.  Ok, that’s meaner to say.  What I’m trying to say is that I’d like to never see him on TV again.
15. I forgot how great it is to watch a game without the Fox Robot doing karate after every commercial.
16. So Favre is nearly crying after the game in his interview with Michelle Tafoya, and yet he’s still trying to say all the right things.  He’s a slick one, this devil.  I’d give him credit for taking the high road, but then I remember — this is the Vikings, and there is no high road.  He’s a sports traitor, plain and simple.  I can’t wait until he starts regretting what he did, because you know he eventually will.  It has to be eating at him that he turned his back on an entire state.  This isn’t the WWE.  There will be consequences.
17. Adrian Peterson?  The book is out on how to stop him now, apparently.  Just study what the Packers did the last three quarters last night.  I think it has to do with spare linebackers drawing taunting penalties.

Thiensville, the so-called “mile of service and smiles” (formerly just smiles, but then I guess they decided they wanted people to stop at their businesses and not just drive on to Cedarburg, where the quaint shops are more famous) is where I’m living initially. There are pluses to this as well — it’s beautiful, there’s a path nearby that goes all the way to Sheboygan, and there’s a siren every day that let’s you know it’s noon. Also, the people are very nice here. This is as opposed to Milwaukee proper, which, well, can have smiling issues sometimes. It’s still 100 times better than Dallas, though.

I’m enjoying ESPN360 for the first time in a long time, which is awesome. I forgot how fun it was to not have Time Warner “we don’t make deals with anybody” cable. The house I’m staying at doesn’t have cable, and yet I’m still watching Wisconsin and Minnesota fight to a draw in their battle for Paul Bunyan’s Axe. It’s the longest-running major college football rivalry, did you know that? And somehow Minnesota and Wisconsin usually end up playing the same weekend the Packers and Vikings lock horns, so it’s like this big two-day interstate fight. Today is the day we find out if Wisconsin is for real or for fake. I’m guessing fake, but sometimes I can be needlessly negative.

Anyway, I’m here. Hit me up. Of if you’re in Thiensville, just go from house to house, because there’s not that many of them and I’m probably in one. Everyone’s smiling, so it won’t be that bad. Well, except for the people at the Wisconsin Synod Seminary down the street. They’re presumably frowning.