7/4

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Careful, Chuck. Don't you have a Dell desktop, too? Have one each of the Dells. My unit has been a trooper but Ann's laptop is spitting blood. About a month ago I booted and got a bluescreen declaring "major malfunction" and about 4 pages of info I could not print (or commit to memory). At the end of the screen it said to reboot and if the same screen came back, say goodbye. The reboot worked but all processes take about 10 times longer now. Has she done a defrag? Or maybe a check disk first. If there's some kind of errors on the disk, you migh have to do a check disk first. Win will let you know...

Right. My tuning of choice for a long time would make it D,A,D,G,G,B,B,D,D OK! Interesting, but you're playing Jazz with this?

Of course, if you take three of the strings off a 12string guitar, the unused tuners tend to rattle. So maybe a custom 9 string guitar isn't a bad idea, root & 5ths power chords on the bottom with unison strings jangling away on the top.

It's a 12 string guitar that's missing three strings. Fender makes a 12 string strat that I wouldn't mind having someday. Only $729 at "Musican's Friend".

That's great mileage, my last machine lasted about 4 1/2 years.

So did you figure out WTF happened?

Thanks Bill. Another fine example of a real band!

Shocking. I never saw that coming.

Have some respect dude...it, like...what was I going to say...it...like...funded prog rock. Yeah. No. Yeah. No spectacular dells...uh, tubular bells, no Henry Cow, which was like real prog rock, not like those poser bands like Prink Floyd and Yes. Way.

That looks very interesting -- I have always had an ear for Morris' playing. I caught him at the Knit once with his trio. Very impressed, was I.

the UBIK Screenplay seems like something I'd check out.

Uh yeah...sure you're not, sure...

Just another good reason to wash your hands.

February 7, 2008, 9:54 am Philip K. Dick’s YA Novel By Dave Itzkoff, NY Times In my Book Review column last weekend, I looked at some issues that arise when genre authors best known for their adult fiction try their hand at writing for younger readers. Of course, science-fiction, fantasy and horror writers have been publishing YA fiction for decades: everyone from Robert A. Heinlein to Ursula K. Le Guin has done it; even Clive Barker has his own YA franchise; and there are those who argue that Orson Scott Card shouldn't be writing it. To my mind, perhaps the most unusual example of a well-known genre author crossing over into YA turf is a long out-of-print relic called "Nick and the Glimmung," written by none other than Philip K. Dick. Published in 1988, six years after his death, and never released in the United States, "Nick and the Glimmung" has the gentle pacing and simplified vocabulary of a young-adult novel, but its sensibility and subject matter are unmistakably Dickian. From the opening paragraphs of "Nick and the Glimmung" (a sequel of sorts to Dick's 1969 novel "Galactic Pot Healer"), you can tell we're in a vaguely sinister future dystopia: Nick knew exactly why his family intended to leave Earth and go to another planet, a colony world, and settle there. It had to do with him and his cat, Horace. Owning animals of any kind had, since the year 1992, become illegal. Horace, in fact, was illegal, whether anyone owned him or not. For two months now, Nick had owned Horace, but he had managed to keep Horace inside the apartment, out of sight. One morning, however, Horace climbed through an open window; he scampered and played out in the back yard which all the apartment-owners in the building shared. Someone, a neighbor perhaps, noticed Horace and called the anti-pet man. "I told you what would happen if Horace ever got out," Nick's dad said… A few pages later, Dick touches on another of his favorite themes: the idea of an authority figure - in this case, a schoolteacher - who propagates their power through the magic of television: "Good morning, Class," Miss Juth said - or rather her image on the big television screen at the front of the classroom said. Miss Juth, like all teachers, had too many classes to teach. She could not appear in person in any of them. Instead, she spoke to all her students, in all her classes, by means of a TV screen. In Nick's class there were sixty-five pupils, and Mis Juth (as she had told them) taught nine other classes, too. So in all, Miss Juth had about six hundred pupils. Nevertheless, she seemed to recognize each pupil. At least, Nick had that impression. When she spoke to him from the big TV screen she seemed to look directly at him, to see him as well as hear him. He usually felt as if Miss Juth were actually in the classroom. And here's an introductory lesson in ontology, made palatable for the kiddies, when the protagonist discovers a book that seems to have the ability to predict the future: Yes, there it was. Right in the book. A short but accurate account of Mr. Frankis' death. Had this passage been here yesterday? Nick wondered. Suppose he had looked this up, on the car trip to the house? Suppose Mr. Frankis had looked for his own name in the index? Would he have found this - and known what was going to happen to him? … What is there in the book about me? Nick wondered. The text which we read before, on the way here, after Glimmung accidentally gave the book to me? Or by now has it changed?