Anyone know where I can find the thingy to edit Youtube videos with?

A few days ago, while googling something unrelated, I saw a mention of something that will let you cut only a section out of someone else's Youtube video. So instead of saying "Here, watch this, the part I'm talking about starts at 3:27," I could either link to or post just the section I'm talking about.

But I was looking for something else at the time, so I went "Oh, that looks interesting, mental note," and moved on.

And now I want to find that thing and I can't find it. Does anyone know what I'm talking about?

Pyrotelekinesis

Last night I dreamed I had a lighter in my purse. I was at work in the dream, and for some reason I walked out into the hallway and started playing with the lighter, flicking it on and off. Then several co-workers burst out into the hallway and yelled at me for smoking, speculated whether I was smoking cigarettes or pot, and threatened to tell my mother. I insisted that I wasn't smoking, but for some reason I kept the lighter hidden behind my back - I don't know if this was because a lighter was contraband, or because it's kind of stupid to be standing in the hallway playing with a lighter.

Then I woke up to the fire alarm going off in my apartment building.

Seriously! True story!

(And no, there wasn't actually a fire in my building.)

Tanlines

When I was in high school, everyone would roll up the sleeves of their t-shirts (sometiems clamping them in place with bra straps) when they went outside in the sun, so as to avoid farmer tan.

I don't know if it's a Toronto thing or a 21st century thing, but here and now no one does that. Not even poorly-dressed high-school students sunbathing in between classes. People wear t-shirts with the sleeves down, or people wear sleeveless tops. In my entire Toronto life, I have not seen a single person do this.

I'm disappointed about this. I hate having a farmer tan, but since I don't wear sleeveless tops to the office (both because it's very difficult to find a sleeveless top that's not overly sexy, and because I don't want to have to worry about my armpits looking professional), so most of my summer wardrobe does have short sleeves. I'd love to roll up my sleeves when I'm outside - and I'd even be happy to discreetly use my purse straps to hold them up rather than my bra straps - but literally no one else does it, so I'd be the only one. And, for all I know, that might scream "OMG, she's so 90s!" or "OMG, she's so 905!" (Funny that 90s and 905 look so similar)

Balance

I never realized how delicate a balance introversion is. Lately I've been more reclusive than usual, making no effort to initiate social contact with even my closest friends, and sometimes even avoiding social contact. At work, I've been thinking lustful thoughts about going home and just being inside my head for a while. I've been avoiding buying my lunch at places with chattier workers. And, as you've probably noticed, I haven't felt the need to blog nearly as much.

I just realized why all this is: a small (and, thankfully, temporary) change in the way things are done at work has me spending more time talking to other people, but under circumstances that are in no way rewarding. I'm getting more external stimulation than I'm used to, and less time with my own thoughts, but no intellectual or personal satisfaction. Now I have no objection to talking to other people, our conversations are perfectly pleasant, but it is draining me where I wasn't being drained before.

So yeah, I'm going to be quieter for the next few weeks probably. But I'm glad I've noticed this, because it's going to inform career decisions that I'll be making over the next 5-10 years.

Wherein Margaret Wente needs to back up her statements with more information

Margaret Wente on condos. Yes, this is a fluff piece, but I still need more information for this piece to even make sense.

It's called Condo Fever. The chief symptom is an irrational desire to dump your pleasant house with a back yard on a quiet street and buy a shoebox in the sky for twice the price.

I don't understand why a shoebox with glass walls is worth more than our entire house and our back yard

In my neighbourhood, a house goes for twice as much as a small condo. I seem to remember that Ms. Wente lives in the Beaches, which isn't exactly known for its low property values. In general, there's no such thing as a house for under $300,000 in Toronto, but you can get a condo for $200,000ish. If she's going to make these kinds of statements, she really should back them up with numbers or namedrop some neighbourhoods or something. Because from where I'm sitting, that's the complete opposite of reality.

It happens that a friend of ours is a condo lawyer. We call her the Condo Queen because she knows everything about them. One day I asked her for advice about buying a condo. "Don't do it!" she said. She herself doesn't live in a condo. She lives in a nice house with a big back yard.

Don't do it why? So you can have a backyard? What if you don't want a backyard? Or is there some other reason why a condo lawyer thinks people shouldn't buy condos? I'd like to know as I'm considering buying one myself. You can't just make a statement like this in a newspaper without elaborating!

Things They Should Invent: YouTune

When I want to link to a song, I most often search for it on YouTube (see below). This seems to be the easiest way to let people hear the song rather than just reading the lyrics, but it is bandwidth- and time-intensive for people who don't have a top-tier internet connection.

What I want is something like YouTube but for music. You look up a song, click on play, and just audio plays, no video. It wouldn't have to be downloadable or anything, just for linking and listening like YouTube is now, so I don't think it would be a huge copyright problem (although the music industry's lawyers would probably disagree - remember back in the 90s when they tried to shut down the International Lyrics Server?)

Note: there is a website called YouTune already, but it does something else. I can't seem to find any website that do what I have in mind.

Things They Should Invent: The Galaxy Song in metric

Monty Python's Galaxy Song (lyrics) (Youtube) is very helpful. You learn the song (songs being very easy to learn) and you have all these numbers that you need in introductory astrophysics. Unfortunately, it's in imperial units, and the vast majority of the world does physics in metric. I have a vague idea of the relationship between metric and imperial units so I could use it as a sort of backup checkpoint in physics class (if my numbers were way off from a rough conversion of the song, I'd double check my work), and it still sometimes helps when playing Jeopardy, but it would be far more useful in metric. Someone should rewrite it into metric, while keeping it tuneful and everything. (I've tried, but I can't keep the tune.) This would be far more useful to society in whole.

I called it!

This is SO Norbert!

I SO called it!

Try!

An oft-repeated bit of dialogue in Star Trek:

A: "I can't remember!"
B: "Try!"

Yeah, because it never occurred to them to try.

The problem with the whole Rogers customer service setup

I currently have TV, Internet, and home phone through Rogers. This was not my idea, but they made me an offer I couldn't refuse. The problem is that whenever you go to customer service, they ask which service you're calling about. Since I'm calling about billing issues, I'm calling about all the services. But they don't give me this option! It is an option in the very first voice menu, but it's not an option in subsequent menus or on the website. Very frustrating.

What shall we do with a drunken sailor?

Section 238 of the Canada Shipping Act. Bold is mine.

Canada Shipping Act
PART III: SEAMEN
Protection of Seamen from Imposition
Punishment when drunk, etc.
238. Every person is guilty of an offence and, without prejudice to the right of recovery from him of any amount payable by him as fare, liable to a fine not exceeding ten dollars, who

(a) being drunk or disorderly, has been on that account refused admission to board a steamship by the owner or any person in his employment, and persists in attempting to board the steamship;

(b) being drunk or disorderly on board a steamship, is requested by the owner or any person in his employment to leave the steamship at any place in Canada that is a reasonably convenient place to leave the steamship, and does not comply with that request;

(c) after warning by the master or other officer of the steamship, molests or continues to molest any passenger;

(d) after having been refused admission to board a steamship by the owner or any person in his employment on account of the steamship being full, and having had the amount of his fare, if he has paid it, returned or tendered to him, persists in attempting to board the steamship; or

(e) without reasonable excuse, proof whereof lies on him, fails, when requested by the master or other officer of a steamship, either to pay his fare or exhibit a ticket or other receipt, if any, showing the payment of his fare, as is usually given to persons travelling by and paying their fare on steamships.

R.S., c. S-9, s. 238.

Today I am a comedian

In bilingual environments, I have English days and French days. On English days, strangers with no external cues speak to me in English. On French days, strangers with no external cues speak to me in French.

Today I seem to be having a third kind of day. Today I am having a comedian day. Everything I say with even the slightest element of humour gets a laugh. And by humour, I don't mean that I was telling a joke. I mean that there was some element of understatement or irony or some other literary device in my statment, and it would get a laugh. I have no idea why, but that happened all day today.

Edited to add the relevant Python.

Do I know anyone at Ryerson?

My call display is full of calls from 416-979-5000. There are no corresponding messages on my voicemail. Google tells me this phone number is Ryerson. Do I know anyone at Ryerson?

Make-up

A Toronto Star letter to the editor claims that the fact that Afghan women have started wearing make-up is oppressing, not liberating.

You know what? I find wearing make-up liberating. Instead of being oppressed by my genetics, it gives me the freedom to look like I want to. Instead of small, squinty sallow-greenish-hazel eyes surrounded by big dark circles, I can have wide, bright eyes in the most fascinating shade of pale green. Instead of shiny, oily skin with uneven skintone, pocked with acne scars, I can have smooth, even skintone in a nice matte. Instead of strange dry pink lips that don't match my skintone (really - I've been told that shade of pink looks awful on me while walking around without any lipcolour on) I can have shiny lips in a subdued reddish earthtone that goes with both my natural and my made-up skintone.

Is my make-up actually that miraculous? Who knows? But I think it is, so I face the world with the confidence of big bright green eyes, smooth skin, and dewy lips. I am no longer my parents' daughter, the spawn of two people to whom it never occurred that their child might inherit their more unattractive physical features. I am my own person, with my physical appearance at least hinting at the person I want to be.

I wear make-up for myself, sex appeal doesn't enter into it. But suppose it does make me more sexually appealing. That doesn't make me feel exploited or oppressed. Unwanted sexual attention happens whether I'm wearing make-up or not, but I can initiate positive social interaction (whether sexual or not) with greater confidence when I look like I want to look. The big green eyes and smooth skin also seem to have a molifying effect on potentially contentious social interactions. If I'm in a situation where I'm awkward or uncertain, people tend to be more trusting of my made-up self, give her greater benefit of the doubt. Whether I'm passing through airport security or asking the saleslady to remove the beepy security tag from these pants before I try them on so I can see if they gap in the back, people are more likely to be nice and friendly and not at all suspicious if I'm wielding the big green eyes. Professionally, I feel more confident and pulled-together if my complexion is smooth. And, of course, I always have the option of not wearing make-up at all if I don't feel like it, or putting it on but not taking advantage of the extra powers it affords me, instead just being quietly gorgeous.

Perhaps you find make-up oppressing yourself. And that's fine, you don't have to wear it. But stop telling me that it's oppressing for me. From the moment at the age of 13 when my mother gave me my first tube of concealer, it has always been a liberator for me, empowering me, giving me control over my own body.

How to make a liberal adult

A new study suggests that a more stressful childhood produces liberal adults.

As with everything, I found myself thinking about this through the lens of my own experience. Any liberalism that I might have is the result of what conservatism my parents have. (They are conservative in some areas but not in others.) I find their conservatism very unattractive and unpleasant. Whenever they demonstrated conservatism, my train of thought would be "This is ugly and unpleasant. I don't want to be that kind of person. I want to be better than that." And so I do my best to be the kind of person I want to be instead of the kind of person I hate being around.

Now, I don't know if other people are liberal because they are repulsed by the conservatism they see in their parents. But nevertheless, this all led me to a follow-up question: Does having conservative parents produce a stressful childhood?

What, only $5 million?

According to the front page of some supermarket tabloid, Jennifer Aniston is writing a tell-all book for $5 million.

The cast of Friends made $1 million each per episode. I don't know the filming schedule for Friends in particular, but my understanding is most sitcoms film an episode a week.

Would you write a tell-all book about your private life for only five weeks' pay?

The problem with automatic rent payment

On Thursday I went to the ATM, took out some money, and got a slip showing my balance. So I knew how much was in my account. Today I happened to log into my online banking and OMG THE BALANCE IS OVER $1000 LESS THAN I EXPECTED!!! OMG SOMETHING HORRIBLE MUST HAVE HAPPENED! OMG CLICK ON VIEW ACCOUNT TO SEE WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED TO ALL THAT $$$$ AND oh it's just my June rent was deducted.

Things They Should Invent: lightsabre cellphones

So you take a cellphone, and you install whatever technology they use in Wii controllers. Then on the end of the cellphone you put a laser where you can see the whole beam like a lightsabre. It will have to be a magical laser that doesn't damage people's eyes.

Then people can use their cellphones to have lightsabre fights, and bring back the social convention of challenging people to a duel.

Wherein I sacrifice one of my core principles in the name of good translation

One thing they made clear to me when I was hired is that there is no room for one's personal values in translation. My first duty as a translator is to accurately render the full meaning of the source text into the target language, and no matter how provocative the subject matter I was not to impose my own values upon it.

Not the most comfortable rule in the world, but I figured that the vast majority of the material I'd be asked to translate is not contrary to my values, and if I did find my values being compromised, I could always resign. So I accepted the conditions of my job. A couple of texts have pushed, but not crossed, the line, but overall nothing in the past four years has caused me to compromise my principles.

Until today.

In what was otherwise a perfectly innocent text, there was a pun. A horrible, terrible, ugly pun. A pun that made me recoil from the computer screen. Once I had recovered my wits, I analyzed it linguistically, showed it to some of my learned colleagues, and decided it was untranslatable. There's no shame in that, most puns are untranslatable. So I put in a pun-free translation of the phrase in question, and continued on my merry way.

Until it happened. Suddenly, unintentionally, against my very will, a solution came to me. An accurate and effective translation of that horrible pun, producing an even worse pun in English. The English pun caused me to make a face like I'd accidentally eaten an olive. But as soon as it came to mind I knew it was the best translation humanly possible of the full denotation and connotation of the French phrase.

So now I was in a dilemma. On one hand, I certainly had the option of disingenuously using a literal, pun-free translation. Certainly no one would blame me for not translating a pun. On the other hand, I did have the best possible solution, and I knew it. The source text's intentions were clear, the ethical dictates of my profession were clear. But was it really worth sacrificing my long-standing noble principle of not inflicting horrible puns on the general public?

Once again I consulted with my learned colleagues. I took a strategic approach: I printed out the section with the pun and shoved it in their faces, hoping to shock and disgust them. After all, if they reacted with the same visceral disgust that I did, I might be able to get them to agree that we really can't inflict such horror on the unwitting public. But they are older than me, and their additional life and translation experience seems to have grown impervious to such horrors. They looked the pun in the eye unflinchingly, with complete sangfroid, and confirmed that it was indeed the best possible translation, so I should use it.

So I swallowed my principles and my pride, inserted the pun, and submitted my text. So now, somewhere out there, is this horrid, wretched pun, just waiting to be unleashed on innocent civilians. And it's all my fault.

I think I'm going to go take a shower.