Antisocial Bookmark Tagging Extension

Bookmark Tags, a Firefox extension, is all the awesomeness of tagged bookmark storage a la del.ico.us, without the hassle of your bookmarks being on someone else’s computer instead of your own, and without sharing your hard-earned bookmarks with the undeserving masses.

I just installed it, so I can’t say whether or not it is great in the long run, but it looks promising.

I’ve pretty much given up on using any other browser than Firefox. There are very good alternatives available on the mac, but I can’t live without my extensions.

Temperament

I just took the Kiersey Temperament Sorter test and discovered that I seem to have flipped very decidedly from one quadrant to another — NT to NF. I’m wondering if that’s supposed to happen?

I was thinking it might just reflect a shift in values that’s taken place in the past few years, but maybe a shift in values is part of a shift in temperament.

Of course, I’ve spent my whole adult life moving myself into the perfect job for an INTP — computer programmer. I don’t know what INFPs are supposed to do. Kiersey calls them “Healers.” He says Albert Schweitzer, George Orwell, and Lady Diana are amongst them.

My general impression is that the ideal INFP career path would be healing injured baby animals.

Patton Oswalt’s Notes on Ratatouille

aspecialthing.com :: View topic – Pixar + Patton = Ratatouille:

Some other things to look for and marvel at:

The way the landscape looks as the rainstorm is starting, near the beginning of the film. The animators captured the way a summer storm looks — sunlight in the distance, raindrops smacking onto dry grass and leaves, and making them shake. It’s eerie and beautiful. It took me back to when I was a kid in Virginia, and those violent storms would hit after a sweltering day.

The floor of the kitchen. Warped and bent — it’s got a biography of hot things spilled on it, cold winters, scrubbings, more spills, etc. Also, check out the scuff marks where the freezer door’s been opened and closed over the decades.

When I hug Django and Emile (my father and brother, played by Brian Dennehy and Pete Sohn) Brad Bird really hugged me when I said the lines.

The fact that most of the chefs are ex-criminals with murky pasts. “If you can make a cake, you can make a bomb”. Pixar had originally staffed the kitchen with all French characters but, after doing research in actual kitchens in France, found out that kitchen staffing is one of the last true meritocracies left in the world. Their ONLY criteria is whether or not people can cook. It’s a skill that cuts across all divisions of race, religion, sex, creed, economics — and criminality. Read Anthony Bourdain’s first book about the drug-crazed, false passport-wielding lunatics he’s worked with, and Colette’s throwaway line about “pirates” will make a lot more sense.

Will Arnett’s cold, frightening, and hilarous read of Horst, the German chef, the most criminal of all the kitchen criminals.

Colette, like all great chefs, carries a “holster” of custom knives. Like the city design in MONSTERS INC., or the Gulf Stream in FINDING NEMO, it’s another perfect bit of background research that’s there if you look for it, but pretty much thrown away.

Remy’s little rat heart beating like a triphammer after he runs away from Linguini, and then pauses to look back. Look at his chest.

That first shot of Paris, which got a round of applause in Austin.

Everything that Ian Holm, as the evil Skinner, does — especially his teetering-on-the-edge-of-insanity rant to his lawyer about that “rat” that no one else sees but him. The animators I talked to had so much fun rendering his lines — “An animator’s dream”, according to one of the character design staff. Also, the animators used his toque like the shark’s fin in JAWS — you always see it moving closer among the stoves in the kitchen. Hilarious.

The disparity of light and noise between the kitchen (LOUD, OVERLIT) with the dining room (quiet, muted). Also, the animators nailed how, in four-star restaurants, the lighting is dimmed, but each table is “spot-lit”, like a little stage.

Sharon Calahan, the director of cinematography and lighting, deserves an Oscar.

Peter O’Toole, as Ego, saying, “How can it be POP-u-LAR?” That piece of audio was the Glengarry lead for all the animators — they couldn’t wait to render it.

Pay careful attention to Ego’s typewriter and the shape of his office.

There’s a crucial dish near the climax of the film that was designed by Thomas Keller of the French Laundry. When it makes its “debut” out of the oven, he teared up a little bit (according to producer Brad Lewis).

Lou Romano (Linguini, the inept chef) and Pete Sohn (Emile, my non-discriminating brother) were, indeed, Pixar animators who’d laid down scratch tracks and, after long and fruitless searches for the right voices, were given the roles.

Found these on mc chris’s myspace blog where you can also find various notes from/about the animators & animation.

Weird mood, and programming

I’m in a weird mood lately on a lot of levels. In the computing-for-fun world, I find myself wanting to get to know Python better, and uninterested in what’s usually my favorite language, Ruby.

I started learning Ruby and Python at about the same time, back in ’99 I think; at the time Ruby was cooler in some ways that mattered to me and I took a dislike to Python for not being Ruby.

I don’t know why, but I want to do stuff with Python now.

Of course, I’d really like to learn Haskell. But I think that it might be a bit beyond me. I like the idea of pure functional programming; my own programs even in imperative languages tend towards the purely functional. It just reduces confusion. But to learn Haskell well you have to learn about monads, and monads still make my head hurt. I get them in a vague basic way but when I try to get the details into my head it doesn’t work.

The same thing is true with continuations in Scheme, another language good for pure functional programming, though not to the same degree as Haskell. I understand the basic idea of what a continuation is, and I’ve even been behind a rewrite of a large chunk of our code at work in a continuation-passing style (long story why I did that but as far as I can tell it was the only non-insane way to accomplish what we needed to accomplish). But every time I try to actually play with Scheme’s “call-with-current-continuation” form it doesn’t work and I don’t understand why.

I sometimes like to imagine to myself that for a self-taught guy I’m a pretty sophisticated programmer, I like cool, obscure, conceptually superior languages (besides Ruby, Python, Haskell, and Scheme, I’ve messed around with Smalltalk, Common Lisp, Io, and even Prolog). Sometimes I manage to convince other people of that sophistication. But stuff like the monads and continuation thing makes me think maybe I’m not as sophisticated and cool a programmer as I imagine.

I look back on my life and there were a lot of times where I read a book or twelve on a topic and thought I really knew a thing or two about it but I look back on it and I really had just read some books. I used to think I really knew something about cognitive science, about linguistics (OK, I still think I really know something about linguistics), and going back farther about philosophy of language and literary criticism, semiotics and the like, and further back than that, I thought I knew a lot about Christian apologetics cause I read a lot of C.S. Lewis (and G.K Chesterton).

I don’t think of myself as an knowledgeable in any of those areas anymore, well, except maybe linguistics, a bit. I don’t read a lot about them or think about any of them anymore.

Maybe my conception of myself as knowing something about sophisticated programming topics is destined to fall by the wayside the same way.

Maybe I never will master Haskell or advanced Scheme techniques, and I never will do anything significant in programming outside my job hackin’ the Perl.

Maybe that’s OK.

I dunno, it’s just a weird mood.