Is my conference from hell finally over?

About a year and a half ago, I had an absolutely miserable experience. A student and I were going to the American Arachnology Society conference at Cornell University; we paid up the conference fees, made a lovely poster, booked our flights, and traipsed down to the Minneapolis airport…where we sat for two days, watching our flight get delayed and delayed, and eventually, finally, they gave up and told us that our flights were cancelled, we should go home.

That was terrible enough.

All this was paid through university travel funds, and I did all the responsible stuff of getting our registration fees reimbursed (I thought), and while we were miserable and disappointed, we were done. Except…my nightmare had only just begun.

You see, all travel expenses at my university go through some accounting software called Chrome River. We didn’t go? We spent less than we’d told it we were going to? Some of the planned expenses were bouncing back with reimbursements? Total shit fit. I’ve been dealing with its conniptions ever since, getting cryptic demands and threats by email.

What totally threw the software was a) Cornell said we were getting reimbursed, but we didn’t, and I only just got a check for the registration fees this week, and b) the rotten airline did not reimburse us at all, but instead billed the university for $60 for flight cancellation. That’s right, they cancelled the flights, but we got charged extra for the inconvenience.

Chrome River has been dunning me, personally, for the money for the past year. If I didn’t cough up something in the next few days, I was going to be held responsible for spending less money than we had planned, and was going to have to pay up or else. All year long, I’ve been getting these horribly opaque machine-generated emails from some evil accounting software.

Well, I think I’ve finally jumped through all the flaming hoops they’ve demanded of me, getting all the ridiculous paperwork filled out and filed today. I’m done.

Except…I’m told that tomorrow I have to log on to Chrome River and press three buttons to finalize everything. I’m terrified. I’ve seen how Chrome River reacts to tiny deviations from its required protocol. What if I press the wrong button, or press them in the wrong order, or fail to show the proper respect while following its demands? This hell might go on even longer.

I think I might have to retire sooner than expected just to avoid dealing with Chrome River ever again.

Act now! Everything must go!

Do you want any of this crap? InfoWars is being liquidated, you’ve got to get your bid in by 8 November.

There’s probably some worthwhile electronics in that batch, but I’m not at all interested in picking up their domain names or media rights or backlog of bad videos. I’m just happy to see that morass of lies and misinformation being dissolved.

Do Facebook and Twitter next.

I was once a tech for some fancy computer gear, a VAX 11/750. It got way too expensive to maintain, but we couldn’t get rid of it — no one wanted it, and it had a university ID tag on it. So we stored it in an old quonset hut that was scheduled for demolition, and whoops, where did it go? There’s a solution for the InfoWars set.

Except that they need to get money for it, to repay all the victims of Jones’ lying depradations.

Posole morning

On Saturday mornings, I try to make a big pot of something that will last a few days, because Mary works such wacky hours and we usually don’t have dinner together. Today I made posole.


(Note: we’re vegetarians, so I didn’t make it with pork, just Impossible Burger. I didn’t add jalapenos, since my wife has a more delicate palate.)

This got me to wondering, though: why do we USAians associate hominy with the South, and why don’t we eat more of it, since we’re swimming in corn in this part of the world? Hominy is just nixtamalized corn, very healthful, since it enables better digestion of tryptophan and assists in the production of niacin, but it’s an Aztec/Mayan food. Are Southerners more obliged to contributions from our Mexican neighbors than is commonly acknowledged?

Also, Minnesotans should be pre-adapted to like hominy — lutefisk is just nixtamalized cod, after all.

Please, tell me more

I can sometimes see the appeal of conspiracy theories.

SMBC

Think about it. He’s called Captain Hook, but there’s no way he was born with the name Hook. He was born with hands. And what character 21 years earlier and was about 21 years younger? Long John Silver’s coxswain: Mr Israel Hands.

There’s something compelling about connecting the dots and seeing the pattern, even if it is deeply stupid.

Important facts

Consider this:

  • It is almost my granddaughter’s birthday.
  • It’s the month of Halloween.
  • If I don’t get my shopping done in a timely manner, Christmas is the fallback holiday.
  • Her parents aren’t allowing her to get an animal pet.

Swish those facts around in my head, and then put this before my eyes.

There is a reason my wife does all the shopping for gifts, I guess.

Oh well, there’s still my grandson’s birthday in November. He’d love this.

The most ghoulish use of AI so far

A lot of people think I’m batshit crazy, says Justin Harrison of Grieftech.

I don’t. I think he’s a delusional ghoul.

Harrison has cobbled together a chatbot that uses an imitation of his late mother’s voice and predictive text built from her online communications, and he thinks that it is a cure for grief, because it enables him to talk to his “mother”. It doesn’t. There is no person there. It’s a kind of selfish version of grief, where he can deny her death and pretend it’s OK because his superficial, fake emulation of his mother can pay attention to him. It’s gross and creepy.

In the last few years, I’ve lost my mother and a brother; in years gone by, I’ve lost my father and a sister. They’re dead. The grief comes from the loss of living, human, thinking, behaving human beings who can’t be resurrected by some fraud with a collection of words they may have uttered. But this shallow idiot thinks a chatbot is a substitute.

Harrison is being interviewed, and he thinks he’s being clever by throwing some publicly recorded videos of his interviewer into the chatbot’s database, and then conversing with the computer. The interviewer is not impressed. So Harrison and some other team member argue with him to say that the computer used a spot-on turn turn of phrase. I guess if all we are is a series of turns of phrases, then the simulacrum is perfect. Except we aren’t. There’s no person, no thinking mind, behind the chatbot.

Then the interviewer goes off to talk to a series of people: one who imagined seeing a dead person after taking drugs, another who dreamed that they were visited by the ghost of their father, a medium who claims, with many weird jerky expressions, that they can communicate psychically with a friend. They’re all the same thing: frauds, liars, or deluded people who have convinced themselves that their loved ones are nothing but superficial reflections of their own minds. Justin Harrison is just more of the same, a phony like all the other phonies who have leeched off other people’s honest grief for profit.

After I’m dead, at least I’m reassured that no ghoul is going to be tormenting me with banalities; I’ll be gone. Don’t be fooled that my chatbot copy’s banalities are coming from me, though.

Do they just hate animals?

Kevin Roberts, president of the Heritage Foundation, promoter of Project 2025, and generally evil dude, murdered a neighbor’s dog. Just flat out killed it with a shovel.

Speaking to the Guardian, then-chair of the history department Kenneth Hammond, along with other witnesses, described the story as unsettling but noted that they did not press Roberts for further details at the time.

Hammond told the newspaper: “He was discussing in the hallway with various members of the faculty, including me, that a neighbor’s dog had been barking pretty relentlessly and was, you know, keeping the baby and probably the parents awake and that he kind of lost it and took a shovel and killed the dog. End of problem.”

Marsha Weisiger, another professor at the university, recalled Roberts sharing the story at a dinner: “My husband and I were stunned. First of all, that he would do such a thing. And second of all, that he would tell us about it.”

She added that Roberts also mentioned considering killing the dog’s puppies.

He wanted to kill the puppies?

OK, now the story about Haitian immigrants makes a little more sense. It didn’t happen, it’s just projection and fantasies of a gang of animal-hating monsters.